#......i sure do think the words 'I wanna throw myself off a cliff' kind of a lot

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[bi-bard]

We’re Two Worlds Apart - Tenth Doctor Imagine (Doctor Who)

Title: We’re Two Worlds Apart

Pairing: Tenth Doctor X Reader

Based On: Astronomy

Word Count: 1,067 words

Warning(s): argument, yelling, pretty sure attempted kidnapping is the right warning here

Summary: After all that he’s lost, the Doctor was hoping that (Y/n) would stay with him. When they decide that’s not the best decision for them, the Doctor ends up scrambling to hold onto them.

Author's Note: Yeah... I'm sorry.

SUPERACHE - CONAN GRAY WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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

I felt like I was ready to throw up as I walked into the console room.

"Ahh, you're awake," the Doctor said once he spotted me. "I swear, you lot sleep for ages."

"8 hours is recommended," I muttered, trying to ignore the weight in my stomach. I forced a chuckle. "I don't usually get that much."

"I'll have to fix that," he grinned at me. I grinned back at him. "You're upset."

I hummed, eyebrows furrowing.

"I can see it," he explained. "We've been traveling together for a while now. You think I can't tell?"

Another chuckle was forced out.

"(Y/n)... what's wrong?"

I let out a sigh and looked down. I heard the Doctor walking over to me. I didn't look at him until I saw the tips of his shoes. He had his eyebrows drawn up as he frowned at me.

"Talk to me."

I took a deep breath. "I... I think I should go home."

"For a visit," he asked. A smile started breaking out. "That's fine. You've just gotta ask."

He walked to the console.

"I'll take us there right now and you can have a nice visit-"

"I meant forever," I cut him off. He looked up from the controls. "I... I wanna go home."

He stared at me for a moment before furrowing his eyebrows and looking down. He was trying to avoid showing any kind of extreme reaction. I had been with him long enough to know that.

"Why," he asked after a few moments of silence.

I bit my tongue.

"(Y/n)?"

"I... I'm scared," I said. I felt pathetic saying it out loud, but it was true. "I can't do this anymore. I need to stop running. I need to feel safe."

"I can keep you safe."

"I can keep myself safe on Earth," I replied. "But here... I can't do this anymore, Doctor. I'm sorry, but I can't."

"But the adventures," he stepped toward me again. "The planets and the history and the amazing sights-"

"Don't outweigh my fear," I stopped him. "I walk out of those doors and my heart drops. I... I can't commit to helping and being with you if I can barely handle being outside of the TARDIS."

He didn't speak. He just looked at me.

"I'm sorry-"

I was cut off by him reaching over and flipping a switch. I jumped to grab the console.

"What are you doing?!"

"I'm reminding you why you decided to go with me," the Doctor said, pointing at me. "I... I can't let you leave."

"Doctor, no!"

"Here."

The TARDIS landed harshly.

"Come on."

"No."

"It's a planet where there are cliffs made of pure crystal. The sun catches it just right and creates this gorgeous-"

"Doctor, stop," I said as he tried to grab my arm.

"You're right," he nodded, stepping back. "I have a much better idea."

"You aren't listening to me-"

I latched onto the console again. I closed my eyes as the TARDIS landed. The Doctor was ignoring me. He was so focused on this that he was ignoring what I was actually saying.

"Planet that is basically one giant garden. Beautiful flowers from every corner of the universe; all of them sitting here to make sure none of them go extinct."

He grabbed my arm, pulling me out of the TARDIS. I hissed a little. It hurt. He had never hurt me before.

He started pointing at plants as he dragged me away from the TARDIS. He was moving quickly. He was barely keeping himself from just running. He was trying to make sure that there was a considerable distance between me and my only ride home.

"This one genuinely smells like a campfire, which isn't great, but you can understand why it looks like flames."

"Doctor-"

"This one produces almost four times the oxygen as the average tree on Earth."

"Doctor-"

"This one is actually edible-"

"Doctor, stop!"

I finally managed to pull my arm away from his and stopped running. He stared back at me with wide eyes. I felt my heart breaking all over again.

It was silent. Tense. For the first time, he was the thing that scared me. And he knew that.

"I... I wanna go home, Doctor," I said as tears filled my eyes. "I've been thinking about this for weeks. I know what I want. No more running, no more convincing. I want to go home. Please. Let me go home."

He blinked a few times before looking around. It was like he was suddenly realizing what he had done today. I looked down, blinking away the tears.

"I... I'm sorry," he muttered. "(Y/n). I'm so, so sorry."

I stepped back when he reached for me. He froze and stepped back again.

"I'll take you home now," he promised. "I... I'm sorry."

I just nodded.

It was silent on the trip home. The only noise was the engine as we landed. I stood up and walked toward the door.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I... I just wanted to get you to stay. I thought if I convinced you, then I wouldn't have to be alone."

I stopped with my hand on the door. I walked back over to him. He was looking down as I pulled him into a tight hug. He slowly hugged me back.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"I'm not leaving because I'm angry or because I hate you," I mumbled before stepping back. "I'm leaving because this world isn't meant for me. But I know that it's perfect for you. You are always going to be that man running around with his police box that saves everyone he can. And I have had an amazing time traveling with you. I'm not trying to make you lonely, but we are on two different worlds... figuratively."

"I know," he nodded. I closed my eyes as he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

I stepped back, walking backward toward the door. "Goodbye, Doctor. And thank you... for everything."

"You're welcome," he grinned. "And goodbye, (Y/n).

As the TARDIS door closed behind me, I felt a pressure roll off my back. As much as I knew I would miss the Doctor, I knew this was for the best.

For a moment, just for a moment, I was able to feel safe.

Even if that meant that the Doctor and I no longer saw eye-to-eye.

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

Masterlist (Includes links to All Writing Challenges)

What I Write For

Some Original Characters

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Resurrect Me: Part 2 (N.R.)

Part One

Huge shoutout to @confusinggemini612 who requested this a loooong time ago and I’m just now getting to it (I am so sorry for the wait). I hope this is what you had in mind :)

Warnings: swearing; PTSD; mentions of suicide/self-sacrifice

Word count: 2.6k

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

The cool breeze blows through my hair, the hand in mine being the only source of warmth in the chill of the Russian countryside. As we walk closer, a chorus of pigs snorting fills my ears. Natasha had given me a brief rundown and a quick pep talk before taking me to meet her family. Now, it was game time.

“Are you ready?”

“Not in the slightest,” I respond to the redhead.

“Let’s do it then,” she says with a smirk, to which I reply with a scoff.

We walk through the gate and enter the small house, immediately hearing three distinct voices, each laced with a thick Russian accent. The voices hush as the door closes behind us, and a blonde woman is the first to greet us.

“Ah, сестра! Mom and Dad are flirting again, let’s make a run for it,” Yelena whisper-yells.

“So put a sedative in their vodka or something, I don’t know,” Natasha replies. I’m not sure if I should introduce myself or not, so I just stand there awkwardly.

“They are both spies, they’re not going to fall for- actually, Alexei would, but Mom would never fall for that,” Yelena pauses as she notices me. She looks me from head to toe and squints before her lips quirk into a smirk. “And who might this be? Is this your little girlfriend?”

“Yelena, don’t be an ass,” Nat grumbles with a scowl.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Yelena hums before turning back to Natasha. “She’s definitely your girlfriend.”

“Oh shut up,” Natasha whines, walking further into the house. I look at Yelena and nod in confirmation before following Nat. I hear her whisper “I knew it” from behind me, causing me to laugh. Natasha turns to give me a questioning look, but I just brush it off with a shrug and a smirk. She narrows her eyes and opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off by a deep, booming voice.

“Natasha! Welcome home! Look at this, all my girls back together again! It is so nice to see you,” Alexei says, moving forward to pinch Natasha’s cheeks. She gently pushes him away with a scowl, and I can’t tell if she’s really uncomfortable or not. Either way, it brings my guard up, ready to defend her.

“And who might this be?” Alexei questions, turning to face me.

“Dad, this is Y/N,” she says before I can answer. I offer a kind smile.

Yelena, who had made her way to the kitchen table with a bottle of vodka, says “She’s Natasha’s girlfriend.”

“Thank you for the input, Yelena,” Natasha says with a tight-lipped smile.

“Girlfriend, huh? When did that happen? Natasha, I was not aware that you, uh, how do you say? Swing that way?” A dark-haired woman slaps his arm for his comment and he exclaims, “Ow!”

“Pay him no mind, Natasha. He is a bit slow, but Mama always knew. You were not very discreet about the way you looked at that Hannah girl in Ohio. And as for you, it is nice to meet you. I’m Melina, what is your name?” Her demeanor is friendly, but her gaze is skeptical. She’s probably already planning how to kill me if she decides that I’m not good enough for her daughter.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, too,” I say with a nervous smile.

“Alright, guys, that’s enough. Please stop harassing my girlfriend,” Natasha says with a sigh.

“Come, sit,” Yelena commands with a wave, still sitting at the kitchen table.

I sit across from her and Natasha sits next to me. Melina and Alexei follow soon after, with Alexei sitting at the head of the table and Melina sitting next to Yelena.

“Here you go,” Yelena says as she slides me a shot glass full of vodka. I clink it against hers in the air and down it in one go, grimacing at the burn. “Are you alright?” Yelena asks with a smirk, clearly enjoying my agony.

“Oh, yeah, I’m great. Just not used to Russian vodka, that’s all.” Yelena nods, satisfied with my answer, before going to pour me another shot.

Natasha stops her by saying, “Yelena, no more vodka. You’re going to kill her.”

“You’re no fun,” the younger sister says, but complies, nonetheless.

“Natasha, you are slouching again. Sit up straight,” Melina interjects.

“Mom, I’m not slouching. I told you I don’t slouch,” Nat protests.

“So how did you two meet?” Yelena asks, interrupting the banter.

“Oh, we met in New York during the invasion, when the Avengers were formed,” I answer.

“You are an Avenger! I knew you looked familiar. Tell me, does Captain America ever mention me, the great Red Guardian? I could kick his ass, you know. I’ve done it before,” Alexei says, causing the three Russian women to groan and complain.

“That never happened, Dad,” Yelena mumbles at the same time Natasha says, “He doesn’t talk about you because you guys have never met.” 

I raise my eyebrows at them. They seem awfully familiar with this conversation; how often does Alexei say this crap?

“So, Y/N. What happened when you guys brought everyone back? How did you do it? Natasha won't tell me,” Yelena questions. I chuckle nervously, glancing at Natasha, who is clearly uncomfortable with this topic of discussion.

“Um, I don’t know if I should… It’s complicated, really,” I say, trailing off.

“Yelena, stop. It doesn’t matter. And don’t put her in the middle of things,” Natasha responds, defending me. An awkward silence fills the room until Alexei speaks up again.

“He really hasn’t mentioned me? Have you even asked him about me?”

<//>

“Why won’t you tell them what happened?” I ask quietly. It’s nighttime now, and I’m lying in bed next to Nat in the guest room. She seemed so uncomfortable, and it’s been worrying me since.

“They just don’t need to know,” she replies shortly

“But they got snapped away, Natty. Don’t you think they deserve more of an explanation than what they’ve seen on the news?”

“Don’t tell me what to do with my family, Y/N.” Her sharp tone feels like a blade to the heart, but I take a deep breath and soften my resolve, knowing that she’s only snapping at me because something else is upsetting her.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push. I just, I can tell that something is upsetting you. You can’t just bottle stuff up, Nat. It doesn’t have to be me if you’re not comfortable, but you need to talk to someone about it.”

She doesn’t respond immediately. “I’ve told them. I gave them the basics: Thanos snapped people away, we time traveled, got magical stones, snapped people back, and then killed Thanos. That satisfied my parents, but Yelena wants to know the whole story.”

“And you’re not comfortable retelling it?”

“Parts of it are bearable, but… I can’t think about it. You almost killed yourself for me, Y/N. You did die for me. I can’t think about that day, let alone tell my baby sister about it,” she says. Her voice is quiet, breaking as the tears flood her eyes. I pull her head into my chest and run my fingers through her hair.

“I’m right here, Natty. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. You don’t have to tell anyone about what happened. I was terrified of losing you on Vormir. I hate talking about it, too.”

“Is that why you went to Dr. Garcia?”

“Partly. There were other reasons, too.” I hesitated before continuing. “I kept hearing the tortured screams. When I slept, in my head, everywhere I went. I heard them all the time. And I would get random whiffs of burning flesh. As you know, I went to the Underworld when I ‘died’ and I guess it just affected me more than I had originally thought.”

“Angel, why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve helped.”

“I didn’t want to worry you, or freak you out. The whole thing was pretty weird. For a while, I honestly thought I was haunted. It was probably pretty selfish, but I didn’t wanna scare you away.”

“You could never scare me away. But just to be clear, you aren’t haunted, right?”

I laugh quietly. “No, I am not haunted. A mild case of PTSD, but I’m doing better now. The therapy helped a lot.”

“Do you think it would help me? I still get nightmares sometimes...of you going over that cliff. I just, I close my eyes and you’re gone, and I hate it.”

“I’m so sorry, my love. I hate how much pain I’ve caused you. But I do think it would help. We can find someone when we get back home, yeah?”

“Yeah. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Natty.”

<//>

“Just do it! It will be fun! I will go easy, I swear,” Yelena begs.

“Okay, fi-”

“No! No way in Hell. You are not sparring with her,” Natasha argues.

“I’ll be fine. Worst case scenario, she kicks my ass,” I say.

“Actually, I’m pretty sure the worst case scenario would be if I accidentally killed you,” Yelena says flatly. “But that won’t happen! Please, Natasha. I want to see what she’s got,” she pleads with a pout.

Natasha sighs and rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath about us being a bunch of children. “Fine, but if you so much as scratch her-”

“Y/N will be fine. Come on,” Yelena says, grabbing my hand and dragging me into the backyard.

Thirty minutes later, I’m flat on my back in the grass, wheezing. I groan as I attempt to sit up, the whole world spinning as I do.

“Yelena! What the hell did I say?! You literally threw her,” Natasha yells.

“No, no. I’m good,” I say weakly.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting her to be so...defenseless.”

“I am not defenseless,” I counter.

“You cannot even throw a punch,” the blonde deadpans.

“That doesn’t make her defenseless,” Nat says as she helps me to my feet. “She could take every single one of you out right now without even moving.” 

From a few feet away, Melina quirks an eyebrow and Alexei mumbles “she could not take me out.”

“You are delusional, Natasha. How are we supposed to trust this woman to protect you when she cannot even protect herself?” 

“She can protect both of us just fine, Yelena. Not that I need anyone’s protection.”

“Your sister has a point,” Melina tells Nat. “Sorry, Y/N,” she adds. I open my mouth to speak, but don’t even know what to say. This is my worst nightmare.

“You must be able to punch when you are in trouble! Much like I did to Captain America back in the day,” Alexei adds.

“Alright, enough. I’ll have you know that Y/N is one of the most powerful Avengers. Actually, she’s a literal goddess,” Natasha snaps.

“Well, of course you would think so. You are her girlfriend,” Melina says.

“Guys, I’m being serious!”

“Do not get snappy with us. We are just looking out for you,” Alexei says.

“I don’t need-”

“Somebody has to be there to keep you safe, and this girl could not bring harm to a plant,” Melina remarks. 

“I’m literally standing right here,” I mumble under my breath.

“She literally saved my life! How is that not keeping me safe?!” My eyes widen; what happened to not revealing that tidbit of information?

“What do you mean? You saved her life?” Yelena asks as she turns to address me.

“If it wasn’t for her, I would be dead right now. And you guys never would’ve come back,” Natasha retorts, clenching her jaw.

“What? Why? What happened,” Yelena rambles. I can see the worry etched on her face, and it makes her look oddly childlike. It almost makes me want to pull her into a hug, but I’m fairly certain she’d throat punch me if I tried.

“On a planet called Vormir. A life needed to be sacrificed to get one of the Infinity Stones. It was me, Clint, or Y/N. I tried, but Y/N stopped me. That’s what I mean.” Natasha is seething. She clearly didn’t appreciate her family’s doubts.

“You tried to kill yourself?” Yelena addresses Natasha, but no one has the chance to answer her before Melina speaks up.

“If you sacrificed yourself, then how are you here?”

“It’s complicated,” I say with hesitance. “I am technically a goddess. I have many different powers, but most of them deal with death. When I died, I went to the Underworld, where I met my mother, Hecate, who is a goddess. Then, I came back. Resurrection is one of my powers. I know it’s a lot to take in, but that’s the truth.”

It’s silent for a minute as everyone processes my words. Everyone is staring at me with bewilderment, except for Yelena, who hasn’t taken her eyes off of her sister. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and a deep frown rests upon her lips.

“You tried to kill yourself?” Yelena repeats, this time only a whisper. Natasha finally turns to look at her younger sister and her mouth bobs open and closed, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“I didn’t have a choice, Yelena,” Natasha finally says.

“You saved her?” the blonde asks me.

I hesitantly nod my head. “Yes, I guess I did.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, giving a curt nod before turning and walking mechanically back into the house. I awkwardly clear my throat and turn my gaze to the ground.

“Will you show us?” I raise my head to look at Alexei, confusion crossing my features at his request. “Will you show us your powers, I mean.”

“Dad…” Natasha warns.

“No, it’s okay. I can show you a little bit,” I say, right before teleporting away. I watch from a hill in the distance as Alexei looks frantically around him. I can hear him asking where I went, which makes me laugh.

I teleport into the house and walk around, looking for Yelena. I walk into a bedroom and find her sitting on the floor with a bottle of vodka. “Hey, are you okay? We didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m fine. Because learning that your sister almost died and there was nothing you could’ve done to prevent it is so much fun,” she scoffs.

“I’m sorry. We probably could’ve broken the news a bit softer.” I sit on the ground next to her, leaving about a foot of space between us.

“It’s not your fault,” she murmurs. “I’m sorry for doubting you.”

“Don’t be. I am a horrible fighter,” I joke. She chuckles slightly, nodding in agreement.

“That you are. Can I see some of your magic, or whatever it is?” I hold out my hand and black mist dances above it with eerie elegance. I close my fist as it fades away, lowering my hand.

“Cool,” she says with a crooked smile. We hear the front door open and three sets of footsteps entering the house. I hear Nat calling my name.

“You okay?” I check one last time.

“I’m good. Thank you, Y/N, for saving my sister.”

“I’d do anything for her, Yelena. You don’t have to thank me for it.”

The bedroom door opens and Natasha’s head pokes in. “Y/N, we thought you’d completely left for a minute. Everything okay in here?”

Yelena and I look at each other and I look back to Natasha, overwhelmed with love for the redead. I smile and say, “Yeah, everything is just fine.”

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

  “ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

   ‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem. 

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

     The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

  “Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

  “Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

  “You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

  “John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

  “Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

   You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

  “Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

  “Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

  “It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

  “Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

  “Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

  “You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

  After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

  “Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

  “Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

  “I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

  “Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

  You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

  “Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

  The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

  You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

  Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

  You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

  You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

  Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

  Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

  Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.  

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

  He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

  “C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

  The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

  “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

  “Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

  The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

  “We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

  “Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

  “I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

  To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

  On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

  He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

  “Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

  “You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.  

  “Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

  “You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

  “Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

  “As in bi-curious?”

  “Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

  When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

    ||\\

  It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

  “Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

  She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV.  “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

  “Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

  “Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

  It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

  The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

  Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

  “Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

  “Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

  “C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

  “Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

  You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

  “Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

  “Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

  “Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

  Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

  Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

  “Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

  He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

  “He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

  “None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

  When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

  “Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

  “You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

  Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

  “Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

  He’s lying. You can tell.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

  “Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

  He’s angry.

  You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

  “Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

  He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

  “Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

  As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

  Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

   Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

  The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

  “Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

  “Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

  You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.    

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

  You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

  “I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

  “Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

  He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

  Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

  “Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

  “Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

  “It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

  He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

  “Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

  “I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

  “Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

  “Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

  “Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

   She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

     You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

  At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  “Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

  “You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

  “It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

  “I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

  “Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

  “Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

  “I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

  “Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

  Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

  As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

  You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

  “Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

  “What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

  “Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

  “Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

  “Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

  “You’re bossy today.”

  You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

  “Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

  “I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.  

  All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

  “Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

  “I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

  “Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

  “Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

  “Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

  “I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

  “I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

  “Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

  “Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

  “I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

        ||\\

  You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

  “I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

  “I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

  “Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

  “I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

  “How can you even say that?” he barked.

  “Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

  He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

  “Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

  “Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

  “I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

   A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it. 

   And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close. 

   Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together.  You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

  “Hello?”

  “Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

  “How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

   He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

  “I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

  “You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

  “That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

  You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

  “It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

  “You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

  “It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

  “Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

  He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

 “Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

  “I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

  “Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

  Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

  As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

  Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

  She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Last time you said that…”

  “I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

  “Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

  He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

  “Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

  “Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

  “You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

  “Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

  “Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

  “I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

  Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

  “What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

  I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

     You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

  But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

  “Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

  “Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

  “I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

  He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

  “I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

  “So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

  “I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

  “Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

   He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

  “Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant. 

  “Yes?”

  “Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly. 

  That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

  “For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

   By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

  “That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

  “What about you?”

  “Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

  “But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

  “That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

  Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.  

  You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

  He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

   Well, shit.

  He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

  You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

  You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

  “You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath.  You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

  You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

  “Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

  “What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

  “We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

  “Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

  You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

  “Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

  “Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

  ||\\

  He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

  He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

  He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

  So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

 ||\\

    “What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

  Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

  You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

  “We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

  “What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

  “Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

  “Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

  “Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

  “Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

  As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

  “Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

  “Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

  He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

  Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

  “Yoongi, what-“

  “Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

  No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

  At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

  “Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

   Brother?

  “How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

  “Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

  “Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

  “People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

  “I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

  “Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

  “I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

  “Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

  “Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

  “It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

  Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

  “Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

  “Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

  Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

  “Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

  Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.    

  There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

  “How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

  He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

  “I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

  “What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

  “Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

  This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

  You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.  

  “Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

   ||\\

                                                       “Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

     It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

  No. He promised.

  You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

  Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

  Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

  You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

  “Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

  “When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

  “I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

  “Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

  He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

  “I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

  “What, now? Y/N-“

  “I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

  Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

  “No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

  He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.”

  As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

  Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

  You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

  You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

  “Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

  He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

  “Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

  Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

  “Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

  “No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

  When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

  Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

 ||\\

    The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

  During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

  “Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

  The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

  “Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

  “Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

  “It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

  “You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

  You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

  “It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

  Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

  Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

  Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

  “Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

  You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

  “Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

  You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

  “So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

  “Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

  “I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

  “Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

  “I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

  “Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

  “Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

  Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

  “H-How come?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

  You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

  “Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

  “That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

  “Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

  “I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

  You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

  “Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

  Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

  “If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

  He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

  “Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

  “Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

  “Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

  “Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

  “Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

  That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

  Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

  “No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

  “Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

  “No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

  He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

  “You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

  You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

  “I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

  You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

  Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

  Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

  During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

  You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

  “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

  “She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

  As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

  “Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

  All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

  “Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

  “We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

  “Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

  “Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

  “Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

  “I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

  “Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

  “I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

  “Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

  Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

  You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

  “Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

  “Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

  “Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

  “Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

  “Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

  “Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

  “What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

  His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

  “Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

  He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

  “Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

  “That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

  His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

  “Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

  He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

  “Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

  “I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

  A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

  “Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  “My place.”

  Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

  “Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

  The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.  

  Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

  He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

  “Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

  He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

  “Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

  You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

  “Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

  Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

  “Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

  His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

  “When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

  “A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

  “Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.  

  “How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

  It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

  “Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

  “I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

  “We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

  “Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

  “You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

  “Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

  “I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

  “Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

  “If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

  His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

  “I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

  “Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

  He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

  “I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

  He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

  You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

  “Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

  “Not even then.”

  “How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

  The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

  “Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

  Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

  Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

  Alright. Great.

  As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

  Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

  “It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

  You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

  “I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

  “Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

  “It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

  Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated  guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

  “Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

  You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

  “Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

  You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

  “It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

  “This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

  “Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

  It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

  Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

  “How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

  His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

  “Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

  As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

  “Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

  “Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

  “Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

  “Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

  “B-But the protocol-“

  “Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

   He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

  “That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

  “If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

  “Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

  Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

  “I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

  “W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

  “Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

  He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

  “You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

  “Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

  “An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

  “You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

  Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

  “My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

  “It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

  “So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

  “Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

  “So you rebelled?”

  “No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

  “I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

  “Because of the devil, right?”

  “Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

   Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

   When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

  Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

   You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

  “I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

  “But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

  “Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

  “I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

  All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

  “Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

  “No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

  You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

  “You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

      There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

  “I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

  “I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

  “Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

  “I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

  “Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

  Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

  You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

  Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

  Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.  

  Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

  “Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

  “Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

  “It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

  By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

  “I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

  His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

  “You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

  “Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

  That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

  “Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

  Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

  “It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

  “Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

  While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

  When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

  “Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

  By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

  “I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

  “Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

  “Can we go home, please?”

 The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

  “Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

  You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

[miioouu]

Birthday Girl...

So what if I want a suna x reader x terushima for my birthday? I’m gonna write it myself and no one can stop me ok? Ok! Also, I know some people don’t like the whole stoner idea, but…I’m not one of these people so… anyway! Happy (late) birthday to me!

Warning: smut, threesome, anal, mention of alcohol and weed…

When your friends said they were throwing you a party for your birthday, you thought of a small one, just between your closest peers. But obviously, it’s not the case. The house filled to the brim with people, you’re barely able to breathe, faces you’ve never seen before, you can only assume they’re here for the free alcohol and drugs, and you can’t blame them. Music that was definitely not your preferred genre blasting through the speakers, but right now, with all the booze flowing through your blood, drowning you out, you couldn’t care. It’s not always you get to be the center of attention, and honestly you always avoided it, but it’s a special occasion and how mean of you would it be if you didn’t enjoy your friends’ effort and kindness to the fullest?

That’s what you’re telling yourself, when halfway through the night you found yourself grinding against a much taller man; one of your hand in his fake blond hair, the other holding a red solo cup. His, were on your waist, pulling you oh so close you could feel everything. His breath smelled like a mix of alcohol and smoke, his hands large and hot caressing your skin leaving you burning, his eyes, golden brown had you drowning in their artificial sweetness, but all of that didn’t compare to the way his knee was between your legs. Your clothed cunt pressed on his muscular thigh, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing on your clit had shivers running through your body. You were so close to losing your mind, so close to falling into insanity, if it weren’t for a foreign voice breaking the two bodies apart. “Hey Terushima, having fun with the birthday girl?” He sounded teasing, his words slurring together; you had to concentrate hard enough to understand. The man glued to your side, Terushima you learned, rolled his eyes, mischievous glint in them, taking the joint from the dark-haired boy’s grip, taking a hit and blowing it to your face, laughing as you glared at, but other than that he ignored you, too interested in answering the other male. “Mhm, man, Suna… you should join! What do you think special girl?” Locking eyes with him, red and hazy, though you can tell he’s checking you. Tongue wetting his lips, taking a step closer to you and breath hitting your face making you rub yourself on the leg still between yours. His voice low and smooth as he growled in your ear “I think that will be a fun present, don’t you think?” Without second thought, you nodded your head, it’s all they needed to go for it.

Walking over each other, hands roaming on each other’s bodies, how you made it to a room without tripping was beyond you. Though that didn’t matter right now. The teeth sinking into the tender skin of your neck, cold metal swiping over it contrasting perfectly against the heat radiating from your body. Nimble hands on your sides, brushes of the tips making you shiver in need as he took off your shirt. So lost between the two of them you couldn’t help but moan, quiet yet passionate eliciting something in them that you were just about to discover. Suna detached himself from you, taking off the rest of your clothes, both whistling as they saw the string of arousal stretching from your heat to your panties as they were sliding down your legs. He then threw Yuuji a look that you couldn’t quite decipher, all you knew is that it got your knees weak in lust. Pushing you back till you were sitting on the edge of the mattress, giving you a kiss and blowing smoke filling your lungs, before backing away slightly, moving his hips to the feint rhythm of the music as he started taking off his own clothes. Giggling a bit, though you followed his every move, drooling as he exposed his abs to your eyes, filling you with the need to glide your fingers against him, but before you get up, Terushima pinned you to place, before joining Suna in his lap dance. Humming along, showing you his pearly whites in a smile as he shimmied down his skin tight jeans, tripping a few times, laughing with you whenever he did so and sending Rintaro a sly smirk when he facepalmed at him. The way their bodies moved and twisted, so gracefully to the beat and slowly making their way to you, had you unconsciously rubbing your thighs together, pussy drooling at just the sight of them. Standing tall and proud, just waiting to be buried inside your holes and the idea of it has you moaning in impatience. Rin was the one to lift you up, sitting down only to drop you in his lap. Your back pressed tightly against his chest, feeling ever ragged breath he took, hearing each and every little groan that let his lips. His hands parting your legs, holding the steady as he watched Terushima kneel before him, his piercing shining under the low light at his tongue poked out, licking a strip between your folds, making sure to pay extra attention to your bundle of nerves. His eyes on your face, watching, observing each of your expressions, the furrow of your brows, your teeth digging into your lower lip, trying to keep the moans at bay but failing miserably as they got louder and louder whenever he sucked on that special pearl. Your body squirming and jumping, grinding and pushing back against Suna’s dick, driving you closer to the edge whenever you felt it twitch. His mouth leaving hues of blues and red on you neck and collar bones, his free hand twisting your nipples, pinching and pulling at them. It was the combination of Terushima’s skillful tongue and Rin’s praises that pushed you over the edge, off of the cliff and drowning in pleasure. Reaching your high, your juices dripping from Yuuji’s face, pooling on Suna’s thighs, and as mind crashing as your orgasm was, you wanted more.

It’s like they could tell. From the grin on their faces, the glint in their eyes, their whole aura had your heart beating faster and heat rushing to your core, again. Pulling you up, the blond’s fingers sending shivers down your spine as they brushed against your skin, placing below your ass to lift you up. So gentle, so uncharacteristically from him, it got your heart squeezing in a foreign feeling. His lips on your neck, peppering kisses and bites. His cock twitching against you, making you moan and whine for more pleasure, and you almost forgot that you weren’t alone when you heard the other man chuckle. Before you could even look at him, the sound of spitting resonated through the room, his dick glistening as he pumped it, spreading his pre all over it before he got up and made his way over. “Such a pretty girl… Tell us, you want to have both of your holes stuffed? Wanna have them both dripping our cum. That would be an amazing sight, what do you think Yuuji?” You couldn’t help but whine, begging them to give you more. His words alone had you clenching around nothing, grinding down and trying to shove the pierced cock inside you, but he squeezed you tighter, preventing you from moving. “Don’t worry baby, you’ll get what you want eventually, just be patient!” With that being said, you felt a finger pushing against the tight walls of your asshole. Slowly making its way deeper into you making you throw your head back and let out a cry in both pain and pleasure, and even more when the high boy inserted another one, scissoring them inside you to stretch you open. The ache slowly became extasy, you soon began to beg for more and more, your walls fluttering around nothing, and the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes was all it took for Terushima to lower you on his dick. Sinking so deeply inside you, he couldn’t care when you told him to slow down, too eager to be balls deep in you. Your nails digging in his shoulders, creating blood crescent you bet he’ll be flaunting around the next day. The fingers in your back hole coming to a stop and withdrawing, Rintaro couldn’t help the deep breath he took, the shiver flowing all through his body while seeing your empty hole clenching. His hands on your hips, holding you still for a moment while he started pushing his length in. inch by inch, the pain was becoming too much, your tears rolling down your cheeks, an agglomeration of both their names leaving your lips in a discomfort whine. They both slowed for a bit, giving you time to adjust; the shorter of the two dipping down and pressing his lips to yours, cold metal swiping across your lower lip, granting him access and letting him discover and explore each and every corner of your wet cavern. The other one, the man behind you, looped his arm around you, slipping it between your and the blond’s bodies, travelling south, between your folds and finding your clit. Pressing on it, circling it languidly as way to distract you; and it worked. Your moans getting louder, your body squirming and moving like it had a mind of its own, asking the males to just get on with it. And how could they refuse you; you are the birthday girl after all! Picking up the pace, both of them thrusting into you, rearranging your insides. Still sensitive from you last orgasm, you couldn’t help your walls fluttering around them, tightening around them. So lost in the pleasure, you mind going blank, incoherent string of words leaving your lips and echoing through the room, thank god for the loud music outside or it would’ve been so embarrassing. Mixed to that was their groans and heavy breath, the sound of skin clapping adding to the symphony. And you can’t help it, none of you could. When the knot inside you broke, your eyes rolled back and tongue lolled out, your head thrown back and your nails clawing, you reached your high, probably the most intense you’ve ever had. And soon after, Yuuji came, painting your insides white with praises falling from his lips like a mantra “You’re so good baby, gosh you’re so fucking tight… gosh you got

me going crazy” His words had you whimpering, eyes fluttering you could barely look at him. And Suna didn’t too long, with a moan of your name he reached climax, pulling out to see his seed spilling out of you. “You naughty girl, you liked having both of your holes destroyed? Don’t worry, the night’s not over….. Enjoy your birthday babe”

[impala1967dwinchester]

Dean Winchester: Change is due

*Credit to gif owner*

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader

Pov: Reader

Warning: Fighting, Swearing, fluff, angst, Dean being a douchebag, guilt.

Summary: What about talking instead of fighting.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/n- This is for band-pyschos 1.5 followers bingo writing challenge. This makes me sad, but whatever.

Square- "Stay with me"

Dean Winchester Master List

Main Master List

Tag list: @akshi8278 @deanswaywardgirl @wonderfulworldofwinchester @doctorlilo @hit-meup69 @fofisstilinski

The drive to the bunker was quiet. The rev of the engine. The downright scariness of the way that all I could hear was the passing of other vehicles on the road. That sound too eventually stopped as the driver back to the bunker was much longer than originally anticipated.

Dean had a temper like nobody's business. The temper of a wild dog, or maybe it was a wild bear. Regardless Dean's temper was downright scary most times. But then again most times that temper of his was never directed towards me.

Yes between miniature fights, and getting annoyed with each other fights did occur, but nothing too bad. You see, three years into hunting and now living with the famous Winchesters. I had fallen deeply for Dean Winchester.

Falling for someone is an already dangerous game, but falling in love with a Winchester. The most hunted after, hunters of them all that was a dangerous game to start playing.

I played the game regardless. Can you imagine falling for someone so much that your worlds just connect so well? Like amazing jigsaw puzzle pieces. Or maybe falling in love was like finally figuring out the correct word in a crossword puzzle.

Like Forrest says "Life is like a box of chocolate, you never know what you're going to get." I would have never been able to tell you that when I was a little girl playing in my room running around in the pure white dress that I would one day grow up kill the monster that haunts this earth, and fall for the most righteous man, the fallen soldier, the best hunter I had ever met.

Could you imagine a six-year-old, coming up to their parent and saying that one day they'd fight monsters, and fall in love with the greatest monster hunter of them all. In your dreams.

Life with the Winchesters was most of the time pandemonium. Life with them was like living in the thunder dome. Like driving on the icy roads and hoping that you don't fall off the cliff. But life was calm sometimes, being able to have a half-assed normal life was good for all of us.

Sam was the best brother a person could ask for. The best friend a person could ask for. I think the moment I met the Winchesters, Dean and I were like magnets dragging each other together. Slated to be together for the rest of our lives, soul mates if you will.

This last hunt was nothing like we had ever dealt with before. So many children had been killed. I had put myself in the way, getting hurt instead of letting more children get hurt. A natural mother... or maybe just a natural instinct of a woman.

Dean, of course, was anger like normal, but usually, his anger would blow over and we'd either make-up or like the band, AC/DC says "You shook me all night long".

this night was different though. Something was off, something felt wrong. Yes, the drive was long and very fucking quiet but something in the air felt wrong. I'd like to think that I'm a tough cookie, a queen disguised as a princess.

I always think that Dean forgets that the reason he and I get along so well is that we are almost alike, in almost every way. We act the same way, love the same things, react the same way. Two peas in a pod if you will.

Dean tends to forget that when he gets angry, but comes to his sense rather quickly after, he either gets blown off, or the subject gets changed, something that he does often to Sam or me. In the situation where he knows he has no control, or where he is uncomfortable, feeling like he's being pushed into the corner.

I used to let Dean act like a douchebag. I let Dean get mad, yell, throw things, get in my face. But recently. Dean's anger has been out of this world, too much to bare, too much to handle. he almost turns into the hulk. It's like he forgets his normal manners and just wants to hulk smash literally everything around him.

How do you make someone realize what they are doing? How do you show someone how they are acting is affecting you?

Finally after what felt like days, but was really just hours of driving we pulled into the garage, the sound of the engine bouncing off of the cinderblock walls. During said drive Dean and I made eye contact once, his green ember eyes staring deep at me through the rear-view mirror. My own eyes making sure to stare at him with just the same amount of deep soul searching Dean was.

Sam steered in his sleep, the coldness of the garage and the car smell waking him from his sleep. Not a single word was said. Sam was the first one out of the car, opening the impalas back, grabbing his bags, and making a rather quick exit of the garage.

Neither of us moving from our spots. We sat in silence. A silence that's a funny word if you think about it. It the most screamed word when you're being told to be quiet. But it weighs heavy between two people.

Fighting was and has never been my style with Dean. Dean wants to yell and be an idiot then I'll let him be, but I won't go without saying my peace. I'll get up and leave if I want to. There's nothing holding me to the man, an argument is just a battle of words.

Finally, Dean moves, moves to look in the back seat. His eye passes over my figure like always. Passing by over my crisscrossed shins up to my jean-covered thighs, over my hips, up my t-shirt and flannel covered belly, up to my tall shoulders, and to my face.

The little light that was streaming into the impala's backseat. "Why?" Was all Dean said, staring at me. I chewed my lip thinking of anything to say. "Stop chewing on your lip. It's finally started to heal." Dean said.

Still, my body stuck in my crisscrossed position. I heard the creak of the impala, as I saw Dean shift from the front seat to the back seat. "I'm pretty sure that I just told you to stop doing that." He said bringing his thumb up to my lips, gently pulling down releasing my bottom lip from my teeth.

"What were you thinking?" Dean asked picking once again at the issue at hand. "I was thinking about the children," I said looking at the man next to me. It was quiet for a moment, then a heavy sigh filled the air.

"The children?" Dean said questioning me. A cocked-eyed eyebrow raised in confusion to my answer. Sometimes it's like my answer is either not good enough, or isn't the right one. "Yes, the children," I stated calmly.

"I'm getting confused here Y/n," Dean said shifting causing the smallest of creak from the old impala. "I stepped in front of the children," I said.

"Yeah, I kind of figured that but why?" He asked. This firstly is going calm, and Dean's asking questions just before assuming shit, but why does this seem odd, kinda like all of the sudden protecting the young kids isn't enough to get a few scrapes and bruises.

"Did the great Dean Winchester just ask me that?" I said now turning the tables and questioning him. "Yeah, I did." He said so cut and dry-like. "You really wanna know why?" I asked

We were still sitting in the back of his precious car. I had rested my head on the headrest, closing my eyes. Dean was just staring, it had become a bad habit of his after we got together.

"Because Dean those kids didn't deserve whatever that monster did to them. Hell, I just pulled ten kids out, you and sam pulled at ten each. Can you even imagine that, because I can. Being so scared that I can't even protect myself." I said.

Taking a deep breath in and sighing loudly.

"What are you talking about Y/n?" Dean asked, looking at me now with more intent. Wanting yearning to get to the bottom jar of worms we had so carefully opened.

"You know what ignore me, it doesn't make any difference," I said uncrossing my legs and turning to unlock the back door. I was stopped before my fingertips even grabbed onto the cold metal on the handle.

"Do you remember that promise you made me? All those years ago." Dean said, pulling me into his warm touch. His scent of bourbon and wood fell down around us. "No, I don't Dean," I said honestly confused about what I had promised.

"You promise me that whatever was on your mind you would come to me and talk about it. I know six years is a long time, but that day you promised that you've never broken that promise." Dean said while he drew small circles into my lower back.

"Tonight though right now, you're breaking that promise. You don't have to give me every single detail but just don't go walking in front of a monster because you don't know what else to do. You know that you can talk to your boyfriend right?" He said questioning me towards the end.

I only shook my head in response Dean took that as his sign to continue talking. "I just, I'm fearing that you're starting to drift away, and honestly Y/n. Honest;y Y/n I don't think I would know what to do without you." Dean said.

This is different, new, and odd. This Dean is someone who only comes out when the world is ending or the tears are about to be shed for the umpteen amount of time. This Dean, this is the Dean I fell in love with. "So make me this promise now, stay with me," Dean asked.

"Stay with you?" I asked, "Of course stay with you, I guess I just have to learn to be able to ask for help, right Dean." I said hugging him from the awkward position we had fallen into when he pulled me away from the back door.

"No more running, no more fighting alone. We do everything together now." Dean said, cupping my slightly tears stained cheek." Bumping our foreheads together in a sign of good faith you could say. I hummed and returned the favor.

Moments like this the calm, and the quiet. These were those times where I felt at home. I've realized with this job, hunting home isn't a place with four walls and a roof over your head it's about the people in your life. Make a home with the people who care about you. Make a home with the people you would fight anything to hurt, Make home able to be anywhere.

And when you can do that finally you can make home turn into love, and love into strength. Having all three makes you happier I'd like to think in the long run of things. So just "stay with me" that's all I'm asking of you, the rest we can do together.

Completed on: 05/06/2021

*Happy Throwback Thursday*

[nancywheelxr]

i'm not sure if you prefer more specific prompts but if you have any interest, something canon-era (compliant or divergence) in the realm of "ye baiyi & every- or anyone"? whichever characters you wanna include; a moment or moments where he feels like maybe there is a little more to the rest of his life than duty and death. it's not only warm food he's been starved of for decades. your writing is great, i hope you're having a good day!

hi! thank you sm! i love getting prompts regardless, honestly, the only difference is that more specific ones tend to get done faster if only bc I already have a loose idea where to go with it! anyway, this somehow turned into a fix-it. that being said, I hope you’re having a lovely day too!

*

i.

They’re so painfully young.

A bird chirps in a tree somewhere nearby and around the fire, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple throws the blanket on the Wen brat’s face. What set off his sensibilities this time, Ye Baiyi doesn’t know, it might have been the perceived coddling, it might have simply been the fussing– either way, it’s pointless. Does he not know the brat will simply wait until he’s asleep to cover him? Does he not know their ridiculous dance around each other is nothing but time wasted?

How do the young ever get anything done?

Foolish. Have they ever been that foolish? Changqing, he knows, was a most ridiculous man with even more ridiculous ideas– who’s the bigger idiot, then, the fool or the one who loves him? 

“Ye-qianbei,” the boy appears at his side, wide-eyed like a newborn deer and with legs as shaky as one too, “if you’re cold, we have more blankets.”

The absurdity of the situation– to ask Ye Baiyi if he’s cold! What’s the night chill compared to the snowy grounds of his mountain? To him, is this not warm weather? “Little fool,” he says, shaking his head even as he laughs, “you’d do better worrying about your idiot master and his idiot friend.”

The kid looks across the fire, grimaces. “I don’t dare, I don’t dare! My brothers used to tell me not to get in the way when my parents were arguing!”

What a ridiculous child. Ye Baiyi laughs again. “They’re not arguing, they’re being dumb. Watch this,” he flicks a little rock at them, hitting Qin Huaizhang’s disciple in the forehead and earning an outraged glare from the Wen brat. “Qing Huaizhang’s disciple, your disciple is freezing off while you’re fooling around. Is this how you the two of you are going to raise your child?”

Beside him, the kid makes a startled little noise like a scared little rabbit before launching into a stuttering denial, but it’s too late, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple has already turned to focus on him as if smelling blood. “Chengling, are you cold? Why didn’t you say so?”

“Ah, no, no, I’m really not,” he tries, but he is, he wouldn’t have known to worry about others if he hadn’t been feeling the chill himself. “Ye-qianbei! Ye-qianbei–”

“Ah, ah!” Wen Kexing interrupts, shaking a finger in his direction, “why are you calling him? Come here, have this blanket since your Shifu is being stubborn.”

The boy goes obediently, shuffling around and nearly tripping on the log, and allows the Wen brat to wrap the blanket around his shoulders. Predictably, once he’s tucked in, the kid beams, pulling it tightly around himself. 

“Chengling, if you’re cold, you have to tell us,” says Qin Huaizhang’s disciple as if that’s a scolding, as if he’s not fussing over the child himself, stoking the fire and throwing in more kindling. 

A silly child with even sillier parents. Ye Baiyi snorts, shaking his head, and for a fleeting moment, he imagines walking this path alone– searching for the truth on his own, a silent forest stretching all the way to Longyuan Cabinet, only his footsteps left behind to prove he was even there at all– whatever. Picking up Qin Huaizhang’s dumb disciple and his dumb companions might not have been his worst decision so far. 

Maybe he could have found the place already if he were on his own, but at the very least they’re entertaining. Ridiculous, he thinks fondly, shaking his head at the blanket the kid has left folded at his feet.

*

ii.

What a mess.

Rong Xuan, you little brat, he thinks. How long has it been since the boy had first toddled up to him, little hands grabbing fistfuls of his robes? Too many, an eternity, and now nearly all of the boy’s friends are dead, all but one, and Ye Baiyi has to pay his respects to this freshly dug grave in his place. 

What a mess.

If you were in trouble, why didn’t you come back? Questions, questions, it’s too easy to ask them now. Why didn’t you ask for help? Why didn’t you send for us? Why did you think it would accomplish, running away? Stupid child, did you think we would turn you away? 

No, there’s no use asking them now, no point in dwelling in the past. What is there to change, after it already happened? Life is a very long road and the past is a land too distant to travel back to; Ye Baiyi would rather focus on the now.

Avenging their child had not been part of the promise he made to Changqing, but Ye Baiyi found the truth of this matter as he told him he would and the truth of it is that someone poisoned his disciple, his child. This cannot go unpunished, so for a while longer, he’ll live.

Further still, a little ways down, is Wen Kexing, whose parents died for Rong Xuan’s mistakes. A child growing up in a harsh world on his own. This debt, he’ll repay too.

For all that he gives his promises away like currency, Ye Baiyi is not sure how he feels about the piling of them– they stretch his finally numbered days, always pushing the deadline further. After the Heroes Conference, he’ll be done with the Ghost Valley. After he finds Rong Xuan’s murderer, he’ll be done with this mess. After he repays Wen Kexing, he will be at peace. 

And then–

Well. And then wine. Warm food. That was the plan, was it not? Heavens, he’s beginning to sound like Qin Huaizhang’s silly disciple, isn’t he? This won’t do. Changqing, even you would laugh at them. Tell me, then, if you were here, what would you do? Ah, something nonsensical, most likely, like go watch the plum trees bloom.

Ye Baiyi shakes his head, laughs. Changqing ah, won’t you tell me what to do? Maybe this time I’ll listen to you.

*

iii.

What kind of nonsense is this?

In all fairness, as much as his opinion of Wen Kexing has been as changing as the seasons, his uncanny ability to be an annoying nuisance has never flickered. He was annoying when he was staring down Ye Baiyi’s sword and he was annoying when he kneeled on the forest bed in apology and plea. 

Surely, it’s no surprise that he is annoying now, allegedly dead.

And yet, Ye Baiyi had not anticipated this level of stupidity from him: the brat did not tell Qin Huaizhang’s disciple of his plan.

Children, honestly. 

Now, the hem of his robes is wet and a few feet away, Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is wasting perfectly good wine in an unnecessarily dramatic manner. “Whatever stupid thing you’re planning,” Ye Baiyi says, eyeing the broken jar by the rocks, the dullness around the brat, “don’t.”

Zhou Zishu whirls on him with all the grace of a dying wet cat as if he’s in any condition to be fighting anyone, as if his hands weren’t shaking and his steps didn’t falter. The sword, once elegant and proud, wavers. Stupid boy. “Ye Baiyi, you–”

“Have you lost your manners down that jar? Or just your common sense? Put that away before I knock it off your hand myself,” he sighs, shaking his head. He should have stayed in his rooms, like planned, until the Heroes Conference; none of this has anything to do with him, his role in this play is mostly over, he just has to wait it out the intermission. And yet. “What kind of nonsense were you thinking? That fool, Wen Kexing, ran around for days like a headless chicken trying to save you and for what? You to throw it away?”

“What’s the point?” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple laughs, cold as the mountains, “what’s the point if he’s not here? Tell me, qianbei, why should I care to live if my soulmate is gone?”

His sword is dragging up the mud and Ye Baiyi wants to call him disrespectful for it, but the sight of it alone dredges up a well of grief that drowns the words in his throat. Why, indeed. This terrible emptiness, Ye Baiyi knows well– the hollow silence that comes where once a familiar voice called your name, the cold where once there was warmth, a hand never reaching back. Snow, all through summer and spring.

“Because that dumb disciple of yours will not last a day on his own,” he tells him, watching the water run towards the cliff’s edge, “because Qin Huaizhang has only you to pass on his legacy. Because that ridiculous hairpin on your head.”

“That’s not fair,” Qin Huaizhang’s disciple says, sounding exactly like he had been about to do something incredibly stupid earlier that would render this entire charade pointless from the start.

Truth be told, few things are, least of all, fate. Ah, but Ye Baiyi had unchanging decades to come to terms with that, perhaps he should spare the boy the heartache, unfounded as it is. “It’s not, but enough is enough. What are you crying for? Did you think it’s that easy to get rid of that pest? He should be ashamed if a little tumble is all it took.”

“Qianbei… you mean?”

Ye Baiyi heaves a pointedly tired sigh. “Yes, yes, the brat is alive. Probably holed up somewhere in that blasted valley of his.”

Qin Huaizhang’s disciple is as wide-eyed as his baby-deer disciple and if he actually starts crying, Ye Baiyi will drag Wen Kexing out of hiding kicking and screaming just to push him down the cliff again for making him witness this. He’s too old, he has little patience for the dramatics of the young, and he’s supposed to be drinking the best wine from the Yueyang area. 

So before he’s pulled even further into their nonsense, Ye Baiyi turns away, back to town and his quarters where he can drink and meditate in peace and really, Qin-xiaozi, your disciple is even sillier than you. 

At his back, he hears Zhou Zishu call, but his voice is lost to the waterfalls and Ye Baiyi makes no real effort to catch the words. What’s there to say? Pah, he’s already done more than his share on this, at no point did he promise to intervene on their pointless little dance. Once this is all over, that brat has better pay for all the wine in the land. And make those dumplings, too, for good measure.

*

iv.

Nobody told him whose wedding this is.

Considering they are in this thrice-damned place, he’s assuming it’s one of the ghosts, but Ye Baiyi figures the brat would be more annoying if it was his and Qin Huaizhang’s disciple’s. Then again, his own presence here is unfathomable, as is the insistence with which the little idiot had asked him to come. What on earth has Qin Huaizhang’s disciple told that child? Give someone an inch and they’ll take a mile, truly– now that boy is running around thinking Ye Baiyi cares about these lunatics.

“Who let him in!” Wen Kexing is screeching from somewhere, and Ye Baiyi mourns his peace as the brat approaches with his purple shadow trailing after. Had she been there this entire time? He squints. No, he would have noticed it, she’s very loud. “Old toad monster! Why are you still here? Who allowed you past the gates?”

“Who are you to tell me where to go?” He scoffs, flicking his sleeves as he crosses his arms. Nearby, a ghost hastily scurries away. “And it was your dumb disciple who begged me to be here. For what? Will there even be a banquet? And you call that decorations? That lantern is so crooked, it’s offensive!”

The purple child bristles. “Ah! And who does that silly boy think he is, inviting people to my wedding! Old man, you! Of course there’s gonna be food! Master and Luo-yi have been–”

“A-Xiang!” The brat cuts her off, closed fan tapping her forehead, as if everyone and their grandmothers don’t already know he’s been running around making preparations. What face is there to save, shameless as he is? If Ye Baiyi was a lesser man, he might have rolled his eyes. “Stop running your mouth, what is your husband going to say? And you! What crooked lantern? You’re going blind in your age!”

Still, even as he speaks, a pointed glare sends the ghosts scattering like mice, rushing to check on the decorations. Ridiculous. “No wonder the girl has no manners. What, you only know how to be polite when asking for something?”

Wen Kexing grumbles. “This one apologizes, qianbei.”

Well, that’s certainly worse. Unsettling. If even Wen Kexing starts being deferential, then what has the world come to? No, Ye Baiyi finds he’d prefer the brashness. Stupid child, what’s the point in changing his tune now? Pah. “Girl,” he says to that purple wisp of a thing, “your master is a pest. Where’s the wine?”

Baffling enough, the girl laughs, tugging at her master’s sleeves. “Master, master, Zishu-ge was right! You did make a friend!”

“What nonsense is this! Don’t you know when A-Xu is teasing? Friends! As if–”

“What rubbish have you been filling these children’s heads with?” He shakes a threatening finger in their direction. Not that it matters, considering the girl has already stepped back, giggling as she sidesteps Wen Kexing’s fan. 

Leaving them to their childishness, Ye Baiyi slips out of the crowd, picking a jar of wine as he goes. The alcohol is good, burning down his throat, and he hadn’t thought he’d step foot in the Ghost Valley, not like this. Something in him will always recoil at this place, always lay the blame at the valley’s mouth, a yawning jaw that’s swallowed whole the people most precious to him with no mercy. 

And yet, Changqing ah, you bastard, look at it. They’re holding a damned wedding, and here Ye Baiyi is, drinking their wine. Are you happy now? Did you become a bodhisattva yet? Fate makes fools of them all, there’s no way around it. He pours the wine over the rocks, lets it spill and run like blood. Xuan’er, did I not tell you not to climb so high? That shifu wouldn’t always be there to catch you if you slip on the ice? Ye Baiyi laughs at the memory– always clear in his mind, suspended in time, unfading, even if his sight blurs with tears– that boy, always scaring them half to death, climbing up the frozen mountainside as a child, then crying in fright once he looked down. 

“Look at the mess you’ve both left me,” he says out loud, downing the rest of the wine, and the silence is never quite as loud as in the hollow space where another would speak. For so long, Ye Baiyi knew to leave room for Changqing’s teasing, for their child’s incessant questions, even Rong-furen’s tired voice. Then, nothing. “What do you have to say for yourself, hm? Typical. I’ll drink for all of us this time, then, how about it? Changqing, I’m keeping my promises, so you’d better keep yours or I’ll–” 

The jar breaks where it falls from his fingers and he shakes his head as if dispelling the murky thoughts from his head. Perhaps, coming here was a mistake. The ashes have already been sent back to Changming, so what business does he have in this place? To see it closed with his own eyes? Besides, a wedding or two, a handful of people, are not worth the bloodshed creating the valley has brought, no matter what Changqing might say. 

Is this a comforting story to be told later, if– by the bridge, in case– 

His thoughts grind to a halt, veering off suddenly into attention to his surroundings. Someone is coming. Indeed, from his place near the entrance, Ye Baiyi can see in the distance a mob climbing up the path, silent as thieves in the night, with only a blue streak of disciples in plain sight at the front.

So much for avoiding bloodshed. Did they even wait for the dust to settle after the monks left town? And what kind of harebrained scheme is this? Has this generation been born with no brains? Such a reckless, petty move! No honor, agreeing to something and then plunging the knife behind their backs. 

There is little time to curse their dishonesty, though, with their numbers fast approaching, so Ye Baiyi swipes a last look at the desolate landscape and slips back inside to sound the alarms. After all, heaven knows that little purple girl will be terribly loud if she doesn’t get her wedding, and Ye Baiyi is not looking forward to remembering what headaches feel like. Honestly, if these people would stop nearly dying for five fucking minutes–

*

v.

Today, the mirror showed a new patch of white hair, faint lines at the corner of his eyes. 

Time, it seems, is catching up to him.

It’s exhilarating.

The plum trees have already lost their blossoms, winter gone as swiftly as it came, the cold melting to the lingering warmth of spring. Today, he walks past blooming azaleas, purple and red radiant against the blue backdrop of the sky.

It brings him to little Qin Huaizhang standing beside Rong Xuan, trying so very hard to impress his friend’s seniors with all the desperation of youth. The poetry he had waxed about his sect’s gardens– Four Seasons Manor, blooming all year round! Ye Baiyi had found him so silly, blabbering while Rong Xuan beamed, so quick to pick the fights Rong Xuan dropped. 

At the time, had he not thought history was repeating itself, if kinder? The Baiyi sword, gifted with the promise to keep his dumb disciple out of trouble? He still remembers Changqing’s face, the hypocrite. So exchanging swords for cursed books is fine, but anything else and you draw the line? At least promises were as reliable as the person making them. 

Now, he has to admit, the silly boy had not been wrong– Four Seasons Manor stands in more color than Ye Baiyi had thought possible. If he’ll have time to witness all its blooms, he doesn’t know, but this spring, he’s here, and isn’t that enough?

At the gates, the young disciple lets him in without a word, bowing respectfully like his seniors have never done. Good. At the very least, those two good-for-nothing brats had the decency to forewarn their juniors of his arrival. How long has it been since Qin Huaizhang’s disciple woke up from the procedure? Aiyah, Ye Baiyi can’t remember, he had been traveling south at the time. 

Well, it’s long enough to be past the need for coddling, that’s for sure. “Qin Huaizhang’s disciple, what kind of Sect Leader are you that you won’t come greet your esteemed guest?”

“Not really a Sect Leader,” comes the voice from his left as Zhou Zishu rounds into view, his silly disciple trailing faithfully after him. He looks better now, death no longer draped over his shoulders like a shroud, smiling like he found peace somewhere in the months since that disastrous wedding. “Qianbei, this one is honored to welcome you to our house. You’ve come at a good time, A-Xiang is visiting with her husband too.”

“Who’s an esteemed guest here? All I’m hearing is a bunch of freeloaders!” says Wen Kexing from somewhere inside the building, just as loud and brash as always, and following his words, the thundering footsteps of children. 

Ye Baiyi snorts, shakes his head. Changqing ah, wait a little while longer, will you? I’m on my way, but I have some places to visit first. Meet me by the bridge, I’ll tell you all about it in a bit.

[ateezmakemeweep]

you’re the one that i want (part 24)

word count: 5k

fluff

(part 23) (series masterlist)

it was crazy how long days used to feel during this time just last year, after winer break started and the draining third and forth marking periods of school started.

usually, you’d be crumbling. 

working your hardest to maintain your grades while also dealing with a toxic home environment. you loved school because it served as a safe haven away from that but it also drained and exhausted every bit of you.

but four months of your life now passed by unbelievably fast and you were handling everything well, good people around you that made schoolwork just a little more tolerable. 

when you were struggling with math, mingi would help you during lunch. if you needed someone to test you with flashcards, yeosang would reward every correct answer with a piece of food. when a particular teacher gave you shit for anything, wooyoung was quick to cause some sort of chaos even if it meant getting detention. 

and when everything just got too overwhelming and you never wanted to look at another book again, seonghwa was quick to clear your desk and drag you to bed. lay you down and hold himself above you until you were smiling and giggling as he pecked kisses down your neck.

you think it was solely because of him and the others and your aunt that june came so fast, only two weeks left of school and everyone buzzing with excitement; even with the whines and arguing coming from your lunch table.

“you’re really gonna make us stay in a hotel for the whole summer?” wooyoung asked, looking at seonghwa with distrust and hurt in his eye. “i thought we had fun at your house that time.”

because with only two weeks left of school meant only two weeks left of you and seonghwa commuting back and forth.

of seeing wooyoung, san, mingi and yeosang every day who have really grown to love this dynamic; so much so, they’ve been all but begging to spend the whole summer there with you two.

but to no one’s surprise, seonghwa wasn’t for the idea.

“no, you guys had fun. i was one second away from flinging myself off a fucking cliff.”

“that’s not fair,” san whines. 

but the dirty blonde only quirks an eyebrow and asks if it was fair that he had to sleep on the floor on his own bedroom every night. or be rudely woken up and forced to make breakfast. or share his girlfriend and-

“no hotel, you guys could always stay with me,” you interrupt sweetly, a small smile on your face that only widens when you feel seonghwa glaring at you. your head cranes over to look him up and down, a smirk crossing your face as you shrug your shoulders carelessly. 

“what?” 

“yeah, what?” wooyoung asks, mimicking your higher voice causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“really? what?” seonghwa asks, annoyance and exasperation in his tone. “i don’t want you burning my girlfriend’s house down, that’s what.” 

“girlfriend, this. girlfriend, that. we all know you have a girlfriend, okay.”

“what? girlfriend? i don’t have a girlfriend.” 

everyone’s heads snap to the side when a new voice stammers those words out, yeosang finally arriving and standing there looking incredibly panicked and guilty.

it makes you in particular cock an eyebrow, the other boy’s “where the hell did you come from” and “we know you loser,” quickly turning back into whines and protests to seonghwa. 

but for the the rest of lunch, you could only focus on how...odd yeosang is acting.

peeking at you every now and then before smiling awkwardly, checking his phone and trying to hide his smile, needing mingi or san to repeat themselves several times because he just seems so dazed and out of it.

when lunch ends, seonghwa is quick to stand up and grab your hand as per your usual walk to class together. but you take your hand from his hold and place it on his arm, standing up on your tippy toe to peck his cheek.

“can you go without me?” you ask softly, using a voice you know will always get him. “i wanna talk to yeosang for a second.” 

“oh?” he mumbles, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear casually. “what about?”

“i don’t know, he was acting strange,” you say quietly, turning to see him gathering his stuff and checking his phone once more. “i wanna make sure he’s okay.”

the dirty blonde looks to yeosang and hums quietly, looking over his friend who meets his gaze.

“what?” 

“why are you being a weird fuck?”

“seonghwa!” you squeal, smacking his chest before quickly ushering him away.

he lets out a loud chuckle before squeezing your hand once more, telling you he’ll meet you at the end of the period and meeting yeosang’s middle finger with one of his own. 

“your boyfriend’s such a dick.”

a small smirk crosses your face as you shrug, looking the boy over with a suspicious look in your eye. a look that he catches and turns an endearing but humorous shade of red because of.

“why are you looking at me like that?”

“because i think you got yourself a girlfriend,” you say, poking his arm as you two walk through the crowded, bustling hallways. he lets out a scoff before bumping into you, remembering to be gentle;

because the last time he did that, you smacked into a wall and he paid for it dearly - curtsey of seonghwa’s fist in his stomach.

“what makes you say that?” 

“just a vibe,” you say, the sweet smile on your face morphing into a teasing one when he raises an eyebrow. “and you’re little ‘who me? i don’t have a girlfriend!’ was the icing on the cake, really.”

he stares blankly at you causing you to giggle, shrugging your shoulders as you promise you won’t tell anyone if that’s the case.

and it takes a little bit of persuading, just a pout on your lips before you remind him how mean he was to you when you first met for good measure.

“that’s not fair,” he sighs out, a smirk on your face as you shrug your shoulders. 

and just as you knew you would, you find out he’s been seeing a girl for a few months. that they’re not official or serious, only having been on a few dates but enough time for him to really like her. 

“she kind of scared the shit out of me at first,” he laughs out and you have to suppress the squeal threatening to leave your lips at the sappy look on his face. “she still kinda does but she’s also really fucking cool. i don’t know, i just like her.”

and once he sees the bright smile on your face, he knows he made a grave mistake. 

“but don’t tell those shitheads yet, i wanna ask her out first.”

“oh? when you are going to? today? oh, my gosh and how?” you squeal excitedly, the initial budding of a romance something that always makes your heart soar. but it proves to only make yeosang roll his eyes, the sound of the bell blaring through the hall saving him.

“perfect timing,” he quips, your arm shooting out to push at him before he rushes down the hallway to his class.

“perfect timing.”

san narrows his eyes at you a few hours later at the cafe, a smirk crossing your face when you see wooyoung wave to you from the window; it’s almost the 6th shift in a row the boy has made him late for but he looks all too pleased with himself.

“he has no shame,” you hum lowly, giggling softly when you see a blush cross san’s face. “and neither do you, apparently.”

“stop,” he whines, hitting you lightly in the arm. “you have to be nice, we only have a few weeks left together here.”

because as much as you love san and this cafe, commuting during the summer would’ve been an absolute nightmare. and his parents had been the ones to suggest it, telling you they would never in a million years fire you but wanted you to enjoy your summer.

“and you can’t do that if you’re trapped in a car ten hours a week,” they said, before taking notes from their son and promptly pushing free cookies and cakes down your throat.

but you’re really gonna miss this place. even if you’re only away from it for a few months, it acted as a safe haven when you really needed one. was one of the only places where you’d have a smile on your face and not feel like your life was falling apart at the seams.

“what do you mean? you guys are staying with me,” you say, looking at him like a confused puppy in a way that makes him smile. 

“seonghwa’s not gonna allow that.”

“well luckily, it’s not up to seonghwa. it’s up to me and my aunt.”

san bites the inside of his cheek to hold back his smirk, looking at you with a quirked up eyebrow causing you to mirror his expression.

“what?” 

“just keep that energy when he’s around too,” the boy teases before his eyes dramatically bat and his face becomes one of a lovesick teen. “but seonghwa, pleaseee,” he whines, doing a lousy impression of your voice that makes you smack his shoulder.

but your fight and quarreling is quickly interrupted by the uncharacteristically abrupt entrance of bo-ra, the once shy girl coming out of her shell a little bit more everyday. 

you were happy you were able to keep your friendship with them despite the fact they were at different school, always having at least two customers a day who you could guarantee would make you and san smile. 

“you guys will never believe this.”

and right when bo-ra tells you jojo has been seeing a boy for a few months now, you almost don’t believe it. not only because of the crazy coincidence that yeosang, too, has been seeing a girl for the past few months but because it might be jojo. 

it almost seemed as if the girl had sworn off any and all high school boys because they are “mean, idiotic assholes who think with the wrong, less impressive head.” 

and yeosang being the one to change that perspective? you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all. 

how yeosang, at one point, was the exact description of that. how, really, all of them were like that except the sweet blonde throwing his head back in laughter at this information.

“no way, who is he? and what’s wrong with him?”

you both let out a snort and hit the boy playfully, bo-ra putting a finger to her lips as she looks at san chastisingly. 

“stop it, they’re coming any second now! i ran ahead because i could not stand to watch them awkwardly bump arms and blush any longer. but act natural. pretend i didn’t tell you. in fact, maybe you guys should act like you don’t even-”

but the second the door rings open, san is up and over to them in a second. he’s so hot in pursuit he doesn’t even realize it’s the familiar brown-haired boy, teasing eyes on jojo as he greets them with a tray of cookies.

“i gotta give it to jojo, i never thought  anyone would be able to-”

and it’s at hearing the lowly mumbled “shit,” under his breath that makes san stop talking, snapping his head over to see no other than yeosang looking at him with a half annoyed, half guilty expression.

“yeosang?” 

the last two weeks of school for you, and mostly everyone else, were great. the work was light, the teachers were lenient and every single person was in good spirits and anticipating the fun and relaxation that came with summer. 

the last two weeks of school for yeosang, however, were...disastrous. because not only was everyone giving him shit for having a girlfriend, they were chastising him for keeping it a secret.

“it wasn’t a fucking secret! i just hadn’t asked her officially yet and i wanted to wait until-”

“we went through this shit before and we’re not about to do it again,” mingi says, whacking the top of the brunet’s head before looking at you and seonghwa. “no offense guys.”

“none taken,” you giggle out as you shake your head, seonghwa rolling his eyes before pulling you into him further. you smile softly against him and meet his gaze, smirking at the look on his face and leaning up to peck his cheek.

it’s a look that only gets more annoyed and tense as the conversation goes into summer, his arm still tightly around you serving as the only thing to keep him grounded and sane. 

the same way you’re the only thing keeping him sane now, you in the front seat of his car while wooyoung, mingi, san and yeosang all flail around and hit each other in the back. the trunk is full of suitcases and bags filled enough for two months because, of course, he had lost that battle. 

“i’ll definitely be a better surfer, are you fuckin’ nuts?” 

“no fucking way, you’re too lanky.”

“well you’re too short! did you stop growing at age eight?”

seonghwa looks over at you, a pained expression on his face at the juvenile conversation in the back and you can only tighten your hold on your intertwined hands.

look down and smile at not only the banter of the boys and your boyfriend’s utter annoyance but the way his hand holds yours so securely.

how they fit together perfectly as you trace your other fingers over the black rings and veins of his hand. 

“it’s gonna be fine,” you tell seonghwa softly, surprised he can even hear you despite the chaos in the back. “they could always stay with me if you need a break.”

but he only looks over at you and shakes his head, bringing your hand to his lips before he tightens his hold on you. 

“absolutely not, i could never put you through that.”

you let out a snort before wooyoung’s head is directly between you both, his arms on the console and neck snapping back and forth as he begs seonghwa for surfing lessons to prove mingi wrong.

and much to the taller boy’s dismay, wooyoung actually did prove to be the better surfer. 

because after only two days of you guys going down to the ocean, seonghwa’s reluctant help in teaching him, though nowhere near as thorough as the lessons he provided last year, proved that the brunet was just somehow naturally gifted at it.

“how does it feel to fucking suck?” wooyoung laughs at mingi, watching the boy roll in clumsily after being knocked by waves. his wet hair’s a mess of tangles and seaweed and yunho can only watch from the beach with a frown on his face.

“he’s trying though,” the tall boy whines to you, a giggle leaving your mouth as you shake your head. 

“i know, he really is,” you say, the two of you laughing again as mingi jumps up and tries to dunk wooyoung under water. you two watch as the shorter boy gets away, much to mingi’s annoyance, and he looks at you two with a dejected look.

“come here,” yunho yells down to mingi, his large hand flagging the boy over. but he only lets shake his head and tells him to go there, that he needs his help now and is gonna cry if he doesn’t.

and what mingi wants from the boy, he gets almost immediately. because you don’t know if you’ve ever seen yunho move so fast, rolling your eyes at how easy he gives in before you lay back down and enjoy the warm sun on your skin - but only for a few moments.

because then you feel a familiar pair of arms around you, your eyes shooting open just in time to see you’re being thrown over seonghwa’s shoulder as he’s heads to the ocean. you squeal and hit his back and tell him he better not throw you in but you don’t even have to see him to know there’s a smirk on his face.

he goes in until it’s waist deep before promptly throwing you down, the freezing june water making you squeal out before popping up with a gasp.

“seonghwa!”

“i’m sorry, baby, but i had to,” he whines, circling his arms around your waist. you narrow your eyes but welcome his touch anyway, even jump up and wrap your legs around his hips in a move you’re all too familiar with in this ocean.

“you really didn’t,” you whine softly but he can only kiss your salty lips and you smile against them, meeting the chaste, sweet kiss back immediately. your arms wrap around his neck when his tongue slips in just a little teasingly, pushing yourself further into him and smiling when he pulls back.

“it’s broad daylight,” his deep voice chokes out warningly, your one hand snaking down to trace the lines of his stomach teasingly.

“you started it,” you quip back playfully, trying so desperately to remember there are far too many people around to repeat what happened several times right in this ocean.

but how could you forget? especially with the scoffs and splashing coming from just a few feet away from you.

“hey sickos, i’m pretty sure you can get arrested for that,” yeosang yelps, seonghwa pulling away to sneer at him while you hide your face in embarrassment because he’s probably right. 

you can feel the dirty blonde smile against your head as you hide in his neck, seonghwa’s fingers threading through your hair before pulling your face back to look at him.

he can’t help but snort when he sees the pink flush on your cheeks, knowing it’s not from the sun because he made sure to put sunscreen on you before coming down to the beach today.

“did you put on sunscreen?”

your face drops and the guilty look in your eyes causes him to groan. he drops his board and takes the black bag from his back, zipping it open and pulling out a bottle of sunscreen.

“here.”

and you already know better than to refuse, taking it with a wince and quiet “thank you.”

he watches you rub it over your arms and shoulders, feeling your cheeks warm as his eyes stay on you. “did you put some on?” you ask, in an effort to distract yourself from his piercing gaze.

but he only nods his head, picking his board up and dusting off some sand and dirt as his eyes remain on you. you squirt some more on your hand before giving it to him with a grateful smile, rubbing it in and then wiping the excess on your face.

“thank you,” you tell him. “i always forget to put it on which would explain why i’m a little-”

“missed some,” he hums lowly, his hand slowly reaching out so his thumb can rub in the lotion on your cheek.

he does everything so smoothly and nonchalantly while you inhale sharply, your lips parting and watching him with wide eyes. it was the first indication that his touch was gonna be gentle this week, his hands softer than you expected. his eyes meet yours when he pulls his hand back, raising his eyebrow when he sees your face.

“you good?”

yeah, i’m good, you think, i just have a handsome boy touching my face about to put me in cardiac arrest.

he plays the memory over in his head and can’t help but smile, your eyes catching his dazed look along with the softer look in his eye. 

“what?” you squeak, cocking your head to the side in confusion.

“nothing,” he says, shrugging his shoulders before tightening his hold on you. “i just love you.”

because he can’t help but think about those times last year, when he was bitter and jaded and so closed off to feeling anything positive. it’d all been a mask, of course, but he’d worn it for so long he didn’t know if he’d ever learn how to be without it.

but that was until he saw you, started everything with you right here in the form of soft, guiding touches that lingered just a little too long and shy looks back and forth that should’ve made him realize this was gonna be the result. 

him so easily telling you he loves you, with any and everyone around to hear him say it so surely. biting back a smile and feeling his heart lurch in his chest when your face softens and mouth drops open.

because even though you know he loves you, know that he says it several times a day and means it every time, it’s these random little moments that make your heart flutter the most.

when he’s saying it for no other reason than that he wants you to hear it, that he becomes fully consumed by the feeling just from watching you smile or feeling you against him.

but you still can’t help but blush as you softly tell him you love him too, his skin littered with water droplets and the sun shining behind him so devastatingly familiar and handsome. 

your arms tightly wound around his neck before he twirls you around and nearly sends you flying under water, your giggle and seonghwa’s deep chuckle echoing through the salty air. 

but it’s quickly cut off by another voice, one much harsher and not so giddy.

“jesus christ,” yeosang grumbles, you and seonghwa snapping your heads over to see him looking at you both. “please don’t tell me i’m gonna look this pathetic.”

“fuck off,” seonghwa snaps. but you can only smack him lightly and look at yeosang with a raised eyebrow, because you’ve actually seen him and jojo together and can confirm they’re just as pathetic as you two.

“of course you do,” you say, your eyes moving back to shore as a small, teasing smile crosses your face. “because look, jojo just got here.”

and the way yeosang’s face brightens and his head snaps to the side is the first indication you’re absolutely correct. his eyes roaming the beach and softly spoken “where is she?” making you feel just a little bit bad for lying. 

the girls did, however, make it just a few days later for a weekend trip. yeosang greeted jojo just as pathetically as he feared to look, his arms wrapping around her body and pressing a kiss to her head like they hadn’t seen each other in months. 

mumbled that he missed her and how pretty she looked and you had to turn your face into seonghwa’s chest so you didn’t squeal. 

it was nice to see them both so vulnerable. when you first met them, they were harsher and colder, with walls not so easy to break down that always made them sneer in the face of love. made them question couples that made it seem like the end of the world when they were apart.

but now, they’re going through that dilemma firsthand with all the other couples, when talk of a girl sleepover and boy sleepover happen, san being looped into the former purely due to bo-ra’s request.

“what, no,” wooyoung whined, arm reaching out to pull the blonde back by the shirt. “he has to be with us. he’s technically a boy.”

“technically?” san asks, snapping his head to the side to look the pouting boy.

"but there’s already too many of you, yunho’s parents will go crazy,” you say, walking over and smacking wooyoung’s hand off the blonde. “and you get to see him all the time. bo-ra and jojo are only here for the weekend.”

“b-but,”

“i’ll be back to you in the morning, drama queen, since i’m only technically a boy,” san says, secretly far too excited with a night away from them; he loves his friends and woo but sometimes they get even a little too crazy for him, having grown used to spending all his time with you. 

and of course, you don’t miss your own boyfriend’s reluctance to let you go but can only assure him with a sweet smile and teasing shake of the head before you all run inside and lock the doors.

it takes your aunt all of two seconds to fall in love with your new friends, a spread of dessert and soda in wine glasses (except for her own) keeping you occupied well into the night.

you all laugh until tears are in your eyes and your sides hurt, the boys just a house away hearing the ruckus through the open windows.

“do you think...they’re talking about us?” wooyoung asks seonghwa and yeosang, the dirty blonde rolling his eyes as yeosang’s mouth drops open.

“oh, my god do they do that?” the brunet asks, shock and horror in his voice as both boys turn to look at seonghwa.

the dirty blonde is tapping on his phone before he feels eyes on him, looking over to see his two friends staring at him wildly.

“what is wrong with you guys?”

“let’s sneak over. i can’t take not knowing what they’re laughing about.” 

“what if they’re talking about our...”

another loud chorus of giggles and cackles rings through the window and it causes yeosang and wooyoung to shoot away from the window, paranoia quickly creeping up on them. 

“shit! they’re they go again. what the hell could be so damn funny?”

“they must be getting details from jojo now,” seonghwa says casually, wooyoung snorting as yeosang’s head snaps to him in outrage.

and while you guys might’ve been talking about them a little, you’d never let them know that. you’d never let them know you actually shared about how sweet and thoughtful they could all be, even given their flaws. 

but somewhere between talking and laughing and then going out in the pool, stormy clouds rolled in and before you knew it, rain and thunder was pelting against your window. 

blankets and pillows were sprawled out across your aunt’s couch as you all laid there cuddled into one another, san’s head on your foot while your head rested on jojo’s shoulder.

it took one movie to knock them out and then another for last girl, now just you with the darkness and roaring weather outside quickly making you miss the boy next door.

you’d gotten used to having him every night; more often than not, you slept together and woke to one another and now you’re feeling just a little hypocritical for tearing wooyoung and san away from each other so easily.

because you’re quick to sneak away from your three sleeping friends, cover them with blankets and turn of the tv, before sneaking into your room.

one particularly loud crack of thunder causes you to jump, cursing yourself when you check the pockets of your pajamas and realize you forgot your phone downstairs. 

“shit,” you mutter under your breath, about to turn around and make your way back down when you hear a knocking on your balcony door. 

and then suddenly, your life feels very much so like a horror movie - no means to communicate with anyone, the howling wind and darkness outside, a mysterious knocking at a door that the character is stupidly going to investigate.

but maybe it’s because, somehow, you knew your soaking wet boyfriend was gonna be standing on the other side. 

“i texted you,” he says simply, like he’s not standing out in the pouring rain or giving you a mini heart attack.

“you could’ve rang the doorbell!” you whisper-yell, pulling him inside before telling him to stay there. you run frantically around your room for a towel and an extra set of his clothes you ‘borrowed’ before throwing them at him.

“why did you do that, you’re gonna get sick!”

and despite your rush of adrenaline to save him, another crack of thunder causes you to jump and he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face. 

“you’re really asking me that?” 

“i told you i’m not scared of thunder,” you say surely, taking his wet clothes and hanging them in the bathroom before seeing he made himself quite comfortable in your bed. 

it’s upon hearing another boom outside, shaking the house and causing a squeal to leave your mouth, that you quickly scurry in next to him. cuddling yourself into him and resting your head on his chest as he wraps an arm around you tightly. 

he smiles against your head and doesn’t comment on the pounding of your heart against him, how any time a loud crack of thunder comes, you cling onto him just a little tighter the way you always do during a storm. 

“i’m not scared,” you insist, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. 

“i know, baby, i just missed you,” he mumbles against your head, bringing your face to his so he can place a kiss on your lips. he tightens his hold on your hair when you deepen it, reach up and part of your mouths before moving up to straddle his hips. 

and despite the growing hardness you feel underneath you the more you kiss, he never tries to take it further. you just kiss and giggle and smile against the others mouth until you rest your head back on his chest, the feeling of his hand rubbing your back and softly spoken “i’m here, baby,” lulling to the sleep despite the storm outside. 

even though you’ll both be awakening to a different type of storm tomorrow, when wooyoung and yeosang discover seonghwa had snuck out and made his way to the house next door. 

(part 25)

tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes​ ; @jisungity​ ; @skz-on-my-mind​ ; @nlost21​ ; @myonlyaurora​ ; @closer-stars​ ; @kuaenam3g​ ; @byungaji​ ; @floweryjh​ ; @joeycheungg​ ; @lostscenarios​ ; @atinyxtopia​ ; @sanisms​ ; @kpopnightingale​ ; @simpforhyunjin​ ; @89staytinyzen21​ ; @lokicaramel​ ; @hwaxbum​ ; @sakura-uji​ ; @songsoomin​ ; @toffee-hwa​ ; @deobitiful​ ; @hyunjeansuniverse​ ; @chrryhwa​ ; @i-know-you-know-lee-know​ ; @tiny-whatsername​ ; @fairieofeternity​ ; @yixing-jaehyun​ ; @sleepyseonghwa​ ; @revehosh​ ; @atletino​ ; @yeol-wish​ ; 

[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #788: After a Cliff Falling Experience (SSBU X Persona 5)

3:40 p.m. at Smash Mansion's Living Room.........

It was a relaxing, peaceful day at the mansion for the Phantom Thieves (Shiho and Lavenza included) as they watch some TV together. That is until......

'Door Open'

Pit: (Weakly Made his Way to the Living Room While Being Covered in Ashes) I'm.....hoooooome......(Fells Down on the Floor in Exhaustion)

'THUD'

Phantom Thieves: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock Once They've Seen Pit Lay on the Ground) PIT!?

Makoto: Oh my god! (Immediately Makes her Way to Pit Along with the Others) Are you okay!? (Starts Helping Pit Back Up With Ren's Assistance)

Pit: ('Groans a Bit in Pain') Yeah......I think so....

Futuba: Dude, what happened to you?

Ann: Yeah. And why are you covered in ashes?

Lavenza: Were you hit by a nearby fire perhaps?

Pit: Not exactly.....I was uhh....(Starts Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth While Chuckling a bit Awkwardly) Kind of, sort of got thrown off a cliff......

Phantom Thieves: You WHAT!!?

Yusuke: Who on Earth would do such a thing!?

Pit: I dunno....Some guy name Kazuya or some-

Ryuji: Waitwaitwait! You said Kazuya?

Shiho: As in THE KAZUYA MISHIMA!?

Pit: Uh....I think that's what his me is, yeah.

Ryuji: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock as He's Almost Speechless) Holy fucking shit.......

Shiho: (Covers her Mouth in Complete Shock) Oh my god.....

Ann: (Turns Ryuji and Shiho in a Not of Confusion) You guys know him or something?

Ryuji: KNOW HIM!? That's the guy from Tekken!?

Shiho: He's the guy with literal devil powers!!!

Lavenza: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) Oh my.....

Ren: Ah yeah.....Tekken. (Turns to Ryuji) I remember you telling me about it that time school. (Turns to Pit) What makes you wanna go after that guy?

Pit: Well, for starters, we really haven't heard from Ganondorf all day yesterday. So Kirby and I decided to look for him all night. Once we eventually arrived at this....Volcanic Mountain looking place, the first thing we saw was that Kazuya guy carrying Ganondorf to a cliff and throwing off there.

Ryuji: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) FOR REAL!?

Haru: (Couldn't Believe What She's Hearing) I-I don't understand! Why would he do such a thing!?

Pit: I'm not entirely sure myself, but he did say something about wanting to fight worthy opponents or whatever.

Yusuke: So he's like Ryu then?

Ryuji: Yes......

Shiho: ......And no..... He's way more cold and ruthless than Ryu is in his Messatsu Form.

Ryuji: And that's all because the whole Mishima Family in general was messed up from the start.....

Ann: (Turns to Ryuji and Shiho) How do you two know all of this?

Ryuji: Shiho and I used to play a lot Tekken growing up.

Shiho: (Smiles Softly at her Girlfriend) You should play it with us sometime, Ann. It's really fun.

Ann: (Shrugs While Smiling at her Girlfriend) Sure. I'm down.

Makoto: Guys, we're going off topic here! (Turns Back to Pit) How exactly did you gotten yourself like this? Did you.....

Pit: Yeah....I tried to fight myself, but...beat me to the punch. (Winces a bit in Pain While Placing His Hand on his Stomach) literally.... And then after that, he tries throwing Kirby off the cliff too-

Everyone: He WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?

Pit: (Gets Startled by Everyone's Sudden Outburst Before Speaking Again) Y-Yeah. After I got beaten up and thrown off a cliff, he immediately grabs Kirby by the head and threw him out there too!

Futuba: (Had Enough) OKAY, SERIOUSLY!? What is with this guy and throwing people off CLIFFS!!!?

Pit: That's what I wanted to know!! It's like he has some kind of sick, twisted enjoyment out of it too! I even saw a glimpse of him smirking while I was falling!

Ryuji: I mean, he was thrown off a cliff when he was six. So.......

Futuba: (Starts Pinching her Nose in Disbelief) Oh my freaking God........

Makoto: (Turns to Pit) Pit, do you have any idea where Kirby must've fallen down to once you were on the ground?

Pit: I.... can't say that I do really. All I remembered is seeing was Kazuya preparing to toss Kirby off there with me. After that, I blackouted....

Ren: Wait a minute. Couldn't Kirby fly or-

Ann: I'mma kill him.

Ren/Makoto/Pit: (Slowly Turn their Heads at Ann with a Surprised Look on Each of their Faces) What?

Ann: (Turns to the Trio With Anger in Her Eyes) You heard me. I don't know who this Kazuya guy is and I don't care at this point!! I am going to find the jackass and pulverize him myself!!

Shiho: (Turns to Ann with a Determined Look on her Face) I'll go with you.

Ann: (Gently Grab Both of Shiho's Hands) No, Shiho. I don't want him to hurt you.

Shiho: (Gently Squeezes Ann's Hands) It's okay, Ann. I may not have Personas like you guys, but I've been training for a while now. I can fight too.

Ann: ('Sighs in Defeat') Fine. But you are staying right by my side in all of this, alright?

Shiho: (Nodded in Agreement) Right.

Ryuji: (Turns to Girls With Anger in his Eyes as Well) I'm going too! I don't give a damn he has crazy devil powers! Ain't no way I'm letting him get away with hurting our friends like that!!! And maybe even Ganondorf!!

Yusuke: You know.....(Puts on a Dark Look in his Eyes) It has been a long time since I've used my blade in action.....

Haru: (Has a Darken Look on her Eyes as Well) Couldn't agree more.....My axe has gotten quite dull as of late.....

Morgana: Normally I don't join in on the violence bandwagon immediately....(Puts on a Anger, Determined Look on his Face) But patience be damn! That devil's paying the piece!!

Haru: Well said, sweetie!!

Morgana: (Turns to Lavenza) Lavenza, you're coming with us?

Lavenza: (Already Has a Darken Look on her Face as Well) Of course.....I will punish thee for his cruel and thoughtless actions that was stow upon our two companions. And I will not hesitate to use my full potential in the process. In other words.....(Summons a Blue Colored Chainsaw on the Palm of Her Hands With a Loud Ripping Sound to Boot) The bastard will pay.

Futuba: (Angrily Pumps her Fist Up in the Air) AH YEAH! Let show that punk who's boss!!

Morgana: (Turns to Futuba) Futuba, you don't even know how to fight.

Futuba: (Pours at Morgana) Oh yes I do! Big sis Sae has already taught me the ropes of Self Defense and everything!

Ryuji: We can talk about that later! Right now..... (Points at the Front Door Fiercely) LET'S GET HIS SORRY ASS!!

Everyone: YEAHHHHHHHH!!!!

Makoto: THAT'S ENOUGH!

Makoto stomps her feet to the ground loud enough to get the rest of the Phantom Thieves' attention.

Makoto: ('Sigh') Calm down and think rationally on this, people! We can't go out there and recklessly fight him like that! He could be powerful enough to stop ALL OF US for all we know!

Ren: Makoto's right, guys. And fighting him is not our main focus at the moment. What we need to do right now is find Kirby and bring him back home.

Lavenza: (Stares at the Couple for a Brief Second Before Sighing in Defeat) The Joker and Queen are right....(Makes the Chainsaw Magically Disappear Out Thin Air) It would be foolish of all of us if we rush in without a proper plan of some kind. We must find Kirby at once.

Ryuji: But how are we gonna him in a huge ass town like this? He could anywhere for all we know!

?????: Poyo!

Ryuji: Hey, Kirby. But as I was saying, I- ('GASPS')

Everyone in the room immediately turns around and sees Kirby happily waving at them.

Kirby: Poyo! Poyo!~

Everyone: (Smiles Brightly at the Smiling Pink Puffball) KIRBY!!~

And with that, everyone (with the exception of Ren, Makoto, and Pit) immediately rushes over to Kirby and express how worried and happy they are about his whereabouts and return.

Makoto: (Watches Everyone in the Background While Sighing in Relief) Well....at least Kirby's back home.

Ren: (Smiles Softly) And not a spec of ashes in his body.

Pit: ('Sighs in Relief and Happiness') I'm so glad......I thought I would actually lose him forever. I would've been really pathetic if that were to happen....

Ren: (Eyes Widened at What Put Just Said) You would've been what now?

Makoto: (Turns to Pit with Worry in her Eyes) Pit, what are you talking about?

Pit: Oh....Well, before or....maybe after Kazuya threw me off of a cliff, he...calls "pathetic".......(Starts to Frown Sadly) And I'm starting think he's rig-

Ren/Makoto: NO HE'S NOT, PIT!!

Ren: Don't believe a SINGLE word from his mouth!!

Makoto: You are NOT pathetic, Pit! And you never will be!

Pit: B-But I lost a fight against him! A-And I wasn't even strong enough to protect Kirby.....

Ren: But Kirby's fine now. He knew he was able to float and use that opportunity to fly away safely.

Pit: I-I mean.... You're right, but-

Makoto: (Gently Place her Hands on Pit's Shoulders) But nothing, Pit. We know what happened to the both of you last night was terrible, but you still did everything you could to stop that man regardless of how strong he was at the time and we couldn't be anymore proud. So please.....(Gently Hugs Pit Lovingly) Don't ever think that way about yourself again.....

Pit: (Almost at a Loss of Words) You guys.....(Tears Starts Falling Down From his Eyes) ('Sniff') I'm sorry.....('Sniff') We didn't mean to worry you....

Ren: (Joins in on the Hug) Hey man, you have nothing to apologize for here.

Makoto: Ren's right. We're just happy that you and Kirby are back home safe.

Ren: We love you, Pit. (Kiss the Top of Pit's Head) Always.

Pit: I....('Sniff') (Gently Hugs Ren and Makoto Back) I love you guys too.....('Sniff') So much.........

@keyenuta

@princekirijo

@caleb13frede

@26shann

@cyber-wildcat

@albion-93

@ma-lemons

[thelastspeecher]

Pirate AU - Shore Leave

A coupla times this week I randomly got inspired to write some Pirate AU stuff.  And I got some good news yesterday, so I decided I’d post the stuff I wrote.  Like a gift to myself, that kind of thing.

So here’s some more Pirate AU content, but most importantly, some Pirate AU Stangie content.  Plus a bit of bonus Shermie content.  Enjoy.

(For context, this takes place a few years after this ficlet.)

——————————————————————————————

              “Thanks for watching the kids, Maria,” Stan whispered. “You can head home.”  Maria got up from the kitchen table.  On her way out, she tsked at Angie.

              “You know better, mija.  Be smarter and faster next time.”

              “Of course, Maria,” Angie said.  Maria shook her head disapprovingly one last time, then left.

              “Sit down, you gotta get off your feet,” Stan instructed his wife.  Angie obediently took a seat at the table.  Stan sat next to her.  “Angie.”

              “It’s a good thing I’m pregnant,” Angie said jovially.  Stan scowled.

              “Then we must be defining ‘good thing’ differently,” he growled.

              “If I wasn’t pregnant, I wouldn’t have been able to delay ‘em hangin’ me,” Angie said.  “Without that, you ‘n the crew wouldn’t have rescued me from the clink in time.”

              “You got caught pirating!” Stan snapped.  “You were about to be hanged!  Yeah, you were able to delay it this time, but next time?” Silently, he thanked whatever deity he believed in that day that they had come back from the rescue mission late enough the kids were asleep.

              Don’t want ‘em to see their parents fight. And judging by Angie’s already frustrated expression, this was definitely going to be a fight.

              “There won’t be a next time.”

              “You’re damn right.”  Stan met Angie’s eyes squarely.  “‘Cause you’re giving up piracy.”  Angie’s eyes flashed with anger.

              “You have no right-”

              “To what?  Want my wife safe?  Want my kids to grow up with both parents?  Angie, I can’t- I can’t live like this anymore!  I can’t watch you go to sea, knowing that you might not come back.  I love you too damn much to let you keep throwing your life away like this!”

              “This is the first time I’ve been caught,” Angie said, but her voice lacked some of the bite it had earlier.

              “Now that it’s happened once, it’s gonna happen again.”  Stan reached out and took ahold of one of Angie’s hands.  He rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb, feeling the thick scars from years of piracy.  “There are some injuries that, when you recover from ‘em, you’re never the same. You’ve had a lot of those.  It’s already started catching up with you. You know that.”  Angie looked away.

              “I…”

              “Give me a single reason you can’t leave piracy.”

              “You know my reasons.”

              “They were reasons you had when you first started. But they don’t matter anymore, Ang! Your name – your real one – got cleared. You’ve got a family and a home. You’ve got money.  Give me a reason that still applies.”

              “I…”  Angie looked down at the floor.  After a moment, she sighed.  Without saying a word, she got up and walked away.

              Shit.  Did I overstep?  Stan started to get up.  No. He sat back down.  Give her a bit of space.  You know how she is.  When a few minutes had passed, Stan couldn’t hold himself back any longer.  He followed her outside.  In the light of the full moon, he could see her talking to Dan. He walked over.

              “Thanks fer savin’ me,” Angie said quietly.  “Not just- not just tonight.  All those other times.  I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t fer you.”  Wordlessly, Dan enveloped her in a hug.  “Take good care of her, Dan,” Angie said, her voice cracking with emotion. They broke apart.  Dan ruffled Angie’s hair, nodded at Stan, and began to walk down the road that led to town.

              “What was that about?” Stan asked.  Angie’s shoulders shook.  “Ang, is everything all right?”

              “No!  I’m- I’m pregnant, I’m sure it’s twins again, I was almost hanged tonight, and I just gave up everything I spent most of my life buildin’ up!” Angie snapped.

              “You…”

              “Dan’s goin’ to run Sweet Viola fer a few months before easin’ her out of the game.”  Angie’s head drooped.  “This pirate king is hangin’ up her crown.”

              “Angie.”  Stan tilted Angie’s chin to look into her eyes.  Eyes the color of the sea.  “Thank you.”

              “You never thank folks,” Angie mumbled.

              “That’s how you know I’m serious.”  Stan grinned.  “And you’re not giving up all the shit you spent so long on.  You’ve still got me.  You’ve still got the kids.  All five of ‘em.”

              “No, darlin’, it’s definitely goin’ to be six,” Angie insisted.

              “What makes you so sure?”

              “A woman knows.”

              “If you say so.”

              “That’s no way to talk to yer captain.”

              “You just gave up your ship,” Stan pointed out. Angie looked away.  Stan wrapped an arm around her shoulders.  “I’m just kidding, babe.  You’ll always be my captain.”

              “Damn straight,” Angie muttered.  “By the way, I might be givin’ up piracy, but I ain’t givin’ up thievery.”

              “Good,” Stan said.  “I’m gonna need your help to keep the shop stocked.”  Angie managed a soft laugh.  The two stayed outside.  Their home was atop a seaside cliff, from which they could see the dark ocean reflecting the pale moonlight.

              Angie buried her head in Stan’s shirt, crying, as her ship disappeared over the horizon for the last time.

-----

              They walked past a shop with a number of nice dresses in the storefront window.  Promptly, Danny and Daisy made a beeline for it, cooing over the fancy fabrics.  The whole family was in town to run a few errands.  Stan glanced at his wife.  Angie wasn’t happy she had been dragged out of the house, but Emmett refused to go anywhere without her.

              “Mama, look!” Danny said excitedly, pointing at the dresses.  Angie forced a smile.

              “Yes, dear, they’re very nice.”

              “You should get it!  It would look so pretty on you!”

              “She’s got a point,” Stan whispered to her. Angie sighed heavily.

              “It would be nice to have some more clothin’ options.  I noticed the other day that I don’t have many dresses.”

              “What are you talking about?  You’ve got plenty!”

              “Yes, fer this!”  Angie gestured to her enormous baby bump.  With how big she was getting, Stan had finally begun to agree Angie was likely right, that they were having twins for a third time.  “But after I give birth?  Most of the clothes what ‘ll fit me were fer workin’ on the ship.”

              “So, something that a nice housewife wouldn’t wear,” Stan said.  Angie nodded. “Well, want me to treat you to somethin’ nice?”  Angie rolled her eyes.

              “I don’t think even you can steal a whole dress in public without bein’ caught, darlin’.”

              “I wasn’t gonna steal it.  I was gonna buy it.”

              “Buy it?”  Angie put her hands on her hips.  “Who are you and what have ya done with my husband?” she asked, aghast. Stan laughed.  “It’s prob’ly expensive.  I’m fine.”

              “After the kids are born and you’re back to normal, I’ll get you somethin’ fancy, okay?” Stan said.  He held out his arm.  Angie took it with a smile.

              “All right.  If ya insist.”  She leaned in to talk quietly.  “Darlin’, in all seriousness, yer okay with buyin’ somethin’ rather than stealin’ it?”

              “Ang, I haven’t done much crime ashore.  Only small stuff I know I can get away with. I didn’t wanna risk getting caught and leaving the kids all alone while you were at sea.”

              “…Right.”  Angie sighed again.  “I keep forgettin’ how little I’ve been on land with you ‘n the kids.”

              “You’ve got plenty of time to catch up on everything.”

              “Yes.  Since I’m now permanently on shore leave.”  Angie raised her voice.  “Girls, leave the dresses alone, we have to go to the market.”  Reluctantly, Danny and Daisy abandoned the dresses and ran back to their parents.

              “Papa, I wanna piggy-back ride,” Daisy whined.  From his perch atop Stan’s shoulders, Emory blew a raspberry at his older sister.

              “Emory’s got littler legs than you do,” Stan said. Daisy crossed her arms.

              “Emmett’s walking just fine!” she argued, gesturing at Emmett, who was holding Stan’s hand.

              “What have we talked about?” Angie asked patiently. Daisy pouted.

              “Being a good big sister,” she muttered.  Angie ruffled her hair.

              “Don’t worry, honey, when we get to the market, you can do some more pocket practice,” she cooed.  Daisy’s eyes lit up.  She nodded. The family continued walking down the street, Danny and Daisy running ahead eagerly.  Stan grinned cheekily at Angie.

              “You’re getting lazy, having the kids pickpocket for you,” he teased.

              “I’m too pregnant to be quiet and get away fast,” Angie said.

              “Fair.”

              “I’m glad that even if yer not willin’ to do much crime lately, yer not extendin’ that to the kidlets.”

              “It’s a lot easier to brush off a six-year-old taking something than a grown adult.”

              “Mm, true enough.”  Angie smoothed the fabric of her dress.  “Once I’m shipshape, I’ll get to restockin’ the shop, darlin’.”  She smirked.  “I’m damn fine at sleight of hand.  Not to mention, no one would accuse the sweet housewife of larceny.”  Stan chuckled.

              “I knew I married the right woman.”

              “Mama, what’s larson?” Emmett asked abruptly. Angie smiled at her son.

              “A grown-up word ya don’t need to worry ‘bout.”

              “Like ‘damn’,” Emory said helpfully.  Stan and Angie grimaced.

              “…We should probably work on cleaning up our sailors’ mouths if we wanna avoid attracting attention,” Stan said quietly. Angie nodded.

              “Agreed.”

-----

              Shermie walked up to the unassuming house.  A large sign outside read “McGucket’s Marine Antiques”.

              This is the right place, then.  Good.  Being a merchant, Shermie had to spend a lot of time away from his family, so he made sure to bring back souvenirs from each trip.  This trip, to a small town called Gravity Falls, had been woefully bereft of potential souvenirs.  As such, he’d been relieved when a local told him about the store on the edge of town full of fun and sparkly things.

              “Ma’am,” he said politely to the woman sitting on the porch, supervising two toddler boys playing on the front lawn.  On either side of her was a basket holding a young infant.  The woman looked up at him curiously.  Recognition flickered in her eyes.  She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, one of the infants began to fuss.  The woman quickly began to soothe the infant.                 Shermie ducked into the house.  The room he was in looked like a proper shop.  Shelves lined the walls, groaning underneath the merchandise.  Some larger items, like a rusted anchor, were set on the floor, with price tags that seemed far too high to Shermie.  Two young girls in the corner giggled to each other as they picked through a box on the floor full of even more small items.

              “Welcome to McGucket’s Marine Antiques!” a voice boomed. A familiar voice.  Shermie’s eyes widened.  He turned.  Behind the store counter was a face he hadn’t seen in over a decade.

              “Stanley?” Shermie croaked.  His little brother gaped.

              “…Shermie?”

              “Stan, what are you- how- you-”  Shermie ran his hands through his hair.  “The people in town said the man who ran this store was named Stan McGucket, not Stan Pines.”  Stan grimaced.

              “Yeah.  Uh…” Stan looked over at the girls in the corner.  “Danny, Daisy.”  The girls looked up.  One had the distinctive Pines nose.  “If anyone comes in, go get your ma and have her handle the customer.”  The girls nodded.  “All right, Shermie, come with me, I’ll answer all your questions.”

              “You better,” Shermie mumbled.  Stan pushed open a door located behind the counter. Shermie followed him into the house proper.  The living room they walked into was cozy and nautical-themed, full of décor that looked like it came from a ship.  Stan gestured to a couch.  Shermie sat down.  Stan sat in a chair across from him.

              “The people in town said this place was run by Stan McGucket because it is.”

              “But how-”

              “I’ll tell you everything, but first, what do you know?” Stan asked.  Shermie raised an eyebrow.

              That’s…interesting.  Stan’s careful dodge reminded Shermie a lot of how his brother would construct lies as a teen.  He would ask what someone knew, then build his lie around that information.  Asking first allowed him to avoid contradicting something known to the person he was lying to.  Hopefully he’s not lying to me now.  I’ve fallen out of practice seeing through Stan’s lies.

              “You were captured by pirates over a decade ago,” Shermie said, deciding to take Stan at face value.  “At some point after you were captured by pirates, Stanford disappeared at sea.”  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah, that’s right.”  He sighed.  “Ford actually caught up to the ship I was captive on.  I got free in the fight, but Ford…he…”  Stan looked down at the ground.  “Well, I didn’t see his body, so I’m holding onto the hope that he’s still alive.”

              “Stan…”

              “The people in town know me as Stan McGucket ‘cause that’s my name now,” Stan continued, talking over Shermie.  “While I was captured by pirates, one of them decided he liked my name and took it.  I didn’t like the idea of sharing a name with a pirate, so I took my wife’s last name.”

              That smells like a lie.  Shermie’s brain caught up with what Stan was saying.  Wait, what?

              “You’re married?” Shermie asked.

              “Yeah.  You saw Angie – my wife – outside.  At least, I hope you did.  She said she was watching four of the kids out there.”

              “I…”  Shermie kneaded his forehead.  “Okay. Now I need to know how you met your wife.”

              “After I escaped from the pirates, I decided to stay at sea to look for Ford.  I didn’t- I didn’t wanna come home without him, y’know?”

              “Yes, I do,” Shermie said quietly.

              “I managed to get a spot on board a merchant ship where her brother, Lute, was first mate.  He was looking for her after she got captured by pirates.  Eventually, we found the ship she was on and rescued her.”

              “You…you rescued your future wife from pirates?” Shermie asked, dumbfounded.  Stan nodded. “Why am I not surprised?”  Stan smirked slightly.

              “We both stayed at sea as merchants,” he continued, “and fell in love pretty quick.  After we had the first set of twins, I decided to move ashore with ‘em. Angie, she, uh-”  He laughed quietly.  “She decided to keep sailing.  Even after we had another set of twins.”

              “Really?”

              “What can I say?  I married a free spirit.”

              Makes sense Stan would find someone like himself.

              “When she found out she was pregnant for the third time, though, we had a long talk, and decided that she’d move ashore with me permanently.  I like having her close by.”

              “I’d imagine having her help with the kids would be nice as well.”

              “Eh.  We’ve got some former crewmates in town that love watching the kids,” Stan said with a shrug.  “That’s why we settled here.  With that help, keeping track of the kids wasn’t what I was concerned about.  I missed my wife.”  There was something more, though.  A haunted look lingered in Stan’s eyes.

              “You were worried about her safety,” Shermie said. Stan looked away.  “I can’t blame you.  It’s dangerous to be a merchant.”

              He’s already lost his twin to the sea.  Of course he doesn’t want to lose his wife, too.

              “Yeah, well.”  Stan cleared his throat.  “I’ve got Angie on shore with me now.  We’ve got six great kids.  Life’s pretty good.”

              “Yes.  I can see that.  Mom will be relieved to hear you’re fine.”

              “She’s gonna show up within a week of you telling her,” Stan mumbled.

              “Can you blame her?” Shermie asked.  Stan shook his head.

              “Not after having my own kids, no.”  The door opened.  The woman from outside, who Shermie now knew to be Stan’s wife, Angie, poked her head into the room.

              “Darlin’, should I be plannin’ on an extra person fer dinner?” she asked.  Shermie tried to hide his surprise at Angie’s strong accent.

              “No need,” Shermie said, getting up from the couch. “I need to be going back to my ship before long.  But before I head out, I should do what I came here to do.”

              “What’d you come here for?” Stan asked, getting up as well.

              “To buy something for my kids.”  Shermie raised an eyebrow.  “Might I be able to get a family discount from my little brother that disappeared for ten years?”  Stan sighed heavily.  “If I get a good deal, I might forget to mention you to Mom for a few days…”  A twinkle appeared in Stan’s eye.

              “Make it a week, and I’ll see what I can do.”

              “Deal.”

[the-bee-graveyard]

The Fine Line

Chapter One

Wow, you stayed around long enough to read chapter two, thank you! Warning, this chapter’s going to be angsty because we’re getting more Brenda and Teresa interactions, you have been warned. 

It will usually take me about a week for each chapter, but I was really excited so I wrote this one quickly. Sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes. 

Chapter summary: Minho and Sonya hold their plotting circle on the beach, and Brenda and Teresa are forced to be there together. Their plan has a very, um, what’s a good word, interesting outcome. Platonic Thomas reunion. Sonya and Minho finish each other's statements a little bit. This chapter’s going to be a bit longer because I wanted to do a few different events in this chapter, but usually I’ll try to stick to three parts/POV’s per chapter.

Let me know what you guys think! I love feedback!

TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added): @izzymultifan

Chapter Two: The Fine Line Between Hatred and Hesitant  Friendship

Part One: Teresa’s POV

Teresa had been an only child before the flare destroyed her life, but she was convinced that fate gave her Thomas to fill in the role of her brother. Sometimes it felt like she loved Thomas more than herself, more and more as she realized all the horrible things she’d done. 

That's why it killed her knowing Thomas was mad at her.

He didn’t notice her standing near the tables meals were ate at, he sat with his back to her next to Newt. Frypan, Gally, and Minho saw her though, Frypan waved to her. She spoke to him yesterday, and he’d been quick to give her a second chance, and she was grateful to him. She needed the win yesterday after Brenda blew her off quickly.

She saw Brenda eating at a table with Jorge, glaring at her as she walked over to Thomas. Frankly Teresa didn’t care, she didn’t need Brenda’s permission to speak to Thomas, and Brenda couldn’t force Thomas to stay away from Teresa. He probably wanted to do that enough on his own anyways.

“Tom,” Teresa said, tapping her old friend on the shoulder, her voice small. “I’d like to speak to you for a moment. In private.” Newt looked up at her first, glaring at her. Thomas looked up at her next, his expression less rebate than Newt’s.

“Of course Teresa,” Thomas said, getting up off the bench. They walked over to the edge of the group of tables.

“I wanted to apologize,” Teresa said. “I tortured Minho and I got almost the whole right arm killed and I hurt you in a way I can never heal, and I can’t take those things back. I’ve wanted to so badly but I can’t. I understand if you never want to see me again, if you hate me, I can live with that. I just want you to know I regret it. If I could do it all over again I’d kill Ava Paige myself Thomas, I swear.”

Thomas didn’t speak for a moment, it had to be the most suspenseful moment of her life. 

“I don’t hate you Resa,” Thomas said. “You saved Newt, I can’t hate you after you did that. And it’s not just that. I can’t hate you because I see me in you. I can see how easily I would’ve done the exact same thing you did, most people would have. You were manipulated Teresa, I can’t blame you for that. And I’ll never forget what you did, and I can’t speak for everyone else here, but I’m willing to forgive you.” Teresa pulled Thomas into a tight hug.

“That’s good to hear, because I’m pretty sure Brenda and Newt have already made up their minds on me,” Teresa said. Thomas chuckled.

“Newt’s the kindest person I know, and you saved his life. He’ll come around, Minho did, and you did worse to Minho than you did to Newt. Brenda’s stubborn, but she’ll come around too. She just needs time, everyone does. You can't expect everyone to just welcome you back with open arms, even if you did make the cure.”

“I’m surprised Vince even let me stay.”

“Oh he didn’t want to, Jorge fought on your behalf. Jorge said you’re just a child, and that Mary would’ve forgave you. He doesn’t like it, but he let you stay.” Teresa closed her eyes for a minute and pictured the kind doctor that saved Brenda’s life, Mary. She saw Mary’s lifeless body. She did that.

“I’ll make them forgive me one day Tom, I’ll do something.” Thomas offered her a friendly smile.

“I know you will Resa, you always do.”

Part Two: Sonya’s POV

They’d formed a circle on the beach. Sonya sat in between Aris and Harriet. Minho, Gally, and Frypan sat on the other side of Frypan, Minho and Gally’s hands intertwined. Brenda and Teresa sat on the other side of Aris, as far apart as two people next to each other could be. Harriet had her head rested in Sonya’s lap.

“Are we ready to start?” Minho asked. Everyone nodded, including Sonya. 

“I assume you’ve all figured out why we’re here based on the absence of two people,” Sonya said. “Minho and I talked, and we’re sick of Newt and Thomas dancing around each other, so we’ve decided to do something about it, but we’re going to need your help. We’ve already discussed a plan.” Frypan raised his hand. “Yes, Frypan?”

“Is anything going to be against the rules?” Frypan asked.

“Absolutely, but nothing that big. We’re breaking the rules right now so don’t give me the speech,” Minho said.

“So what’s the plan?” Teresa asked. Sonya didn’t know how she felt about Teresa. Teresa had gotten Mary killed, both Aris and Sonya herself captured, and almost got her brother killed, but she also saved Newt’s life and everyone else seemed to have forgiven her.

“Our plans in phases,” Sonya said. “We’ll start phase one tomorrow morning. Minho’s going to go talk with Thomas later, and get him to talk about Newt. Minho’s going to have a walkie-talkie behind his back. Gally’s going to have the other walkie-talkie so Newt can hear everything nice Thomas says about him. Any questions?” Brenda raised her hand.

“What if Thomas doesn’t say nice things about Newt?” Brenda asked.

“Bren, sweetie, you’ve spent five seconds around Thomas before. You know he will. I officially declare this meeting of the get Newtmas together club disbanded, we’ll regroup tomorrow to discuss our progress,” Minho said as he stood up.

Part Three: Brenda’s POV

“Brenda! Wait!” Oh dear lord. Brenda sighed and turned around to see Teresa running towards her.

“What do you want?” Brenda asked as she kept walking, but Teresa had already caught up to her.

“I just wanted to tell you Thomas forgave me.” Teresa didn’t dress like most of the people at the safe haven, she wore a blue and white dress and her black hair down, because everything about her had to be special. Brenda rolled her eyes. Someone needed to give this girl a job and a reality check.

“Yeah, I know. He’s an idiot, that’s old news.” Brenda tried to walk faster to get away from the girl, but Teresa had longer legs and caught up with ease.”What the hell do you want from me?”

“I want you to like me,” Teresa blurted out. “Or at least, I want you to not completely hate me. We could’ve been friends Brenda, I want that.”

“If you don’t remember, since you seem to have very selective memory loss, WICKED killed my father and brother. My brother probably died in your precious mazes. If Jorge didn’t smuggle me out of WICKED when he worked for them, I would have died in your precious mazes,” Brenda lashed out. Forgiving Thomas for building the mazes was one thing because his apologies were genuine. Teresa was only sorry because everyone told her she ought to be. She didn’t see her fault in anything. 

“I was a child Brenda, and I did what I was told. If Jorge told you to build a maze, you’d do it, wouldn’t you?” Teresa said. 

“Don’t you ever compare Jorge and me to those heathen’s and you,” Brenda snorted. 

“Please Brenda. One chance, that’s all I ask for,” Teresa pleaded, her big blue eyes starting right into Brenda’s soul.

“Fine,” Brenda sighed, already regretting this. “One chance. If you ruin that I’ll push you off the cliffs, I swear.” 

“Thank you!” Teresa said, throwing her arms around Brenda, who shoved her off quickly. “Too soon.”

“Forever is too soon for that Teresa,” Brenda replied, trying to ignore the sudden coldness in the spots where Teresa’s arms had previously been. 

Nope. 

Not today fate. 

Not this one. Literally anyone but this one.

Part Four: Newt’s POV

“Heyyyyyy there Newt,” Gally said, putting one of his arms around Newt.

“What are you up to?” Newt deadpanned. He’d known Gally long enough to know when the builder was up to something, and he was absolutely up to something now. 

“Jesus, can’t a guy come talk to his friend who almost died without getting shucking interrogated?” Gally snorted. “I hid a walkie-talkie in Minho’s coat pocket, and I taped down the speaker button. Wanna hear what he’s up to?” Whatever Newt thought Gally would be up to, it wasn’t that.

“I mean, sure?” Newt replied. He didn’t know what the right answer could possibly be to the question, because the fact the question was even asked seemed pretty bad to Newt. Gally pulled the walkie-talkie out of his pocket and turned up the volume.

“Hey Thomas,” Minho’s voice said on the other end of the walkie-talkie, quite clear for something that was supposedly in his coat pocket. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course Minho,” Thomas replied. Newt loved the sound of Thomas’s voice. He loved everything about Thomas really, but he had a nice voice. He always spoke softer with Newt, even when he was angry. he’d been one hundred percent aware of how in love with Thomas he was since the day they met, and not just the day in the maze, the day Thomas pulled back that curtain in the WICKED lab. Newt had pretended to be asleep,  but even then Thomas’s inquisitive nature had made his heart skip a beat.

“Don’t you think Newt’s hot?” If Newt had been drinking water he would have spit it out.

“I thought you and Gally were a thing now.” Thomas sounded even more confused then usual, so he must be pretty damn confused.

“I wasn't asking for me dumb shank. Yes or no?”

“Of course I think Newt’s attractive, everyone thinks Newt’s attractive.” Newt’s heart skipped a beat.

“What do you think his best quality is?” Minho asked.

“His hair. Or hands. Or eyes. Is this a trick question?” Thomas replied.

“Thank you for your input Tom, really helpful,” Minho said. Newt couldn’t listen any more. He looked up at Gally and solemnly spoke,

“Gally, I’m sorry mate.”

“What?” Gally said.

“I can’t believe Minho would lead you on like that. Don’t worry, I’ll reject him, I’m not interested in him anyways.”

“Newt, what the hell are you talking about?”

“Well I thought it was clear, but I’ll give it to you straight: Minho’s clearly into me, not you.” 

[jothzuko]

To Chip Away

Read on AO3

Summary: Suki's spent a lot of time excelling at acting like she's fine. She's a leader; it comes with the territory, and pretending to be fine after escaping the Boiling Rock is just the next logical step. They've all got bigger problems, anyway. Still, it turns out she's not fooling Sokka quite as well as she'd hoped.

It takes Sokka a while to notice Suki’s gone, which he’d prefer to attribute to her stealth skills rather than his own failings. He’s let his guard down a little at the Air Temple, has stopped mentally doing headcounts every couple minutes, although he maybe should resume those with the way people keep disappearing on them (if he and Zuko had been the last ones missing, surely they could be forgiven, since they’d come back with more people than they’d left with).

Either way, he’s halfway through talking to his dad when he looks around at some point and realizes she’s not with the group. “Did you see Suki leave?”

Hakoda takes a second to catch up with the sudden about-face in the conversation, but then he says, “Don’t think so. She can’t have gone far, though, the flying bison’s still here.”

“He has a name, Dad. Did you forget Appa’s name?”

“There have been quite a few new names to keep track of, and aren’t you trying to find your girlfriend?”

Sokka nods. “I’ll be back, I still wanna hear about Kallik spitting on Fire Nation troops.”

“That’s pretty much the whole story,” Hakoda says, but Sokka’s already up and heading off to find Suki.

His dad had been right, there weren’t a lot of places she could’ve gone without some serious climbing, and only a few were out of view from the space where they’d set up camp. There’s a ledge, though, high enough up the cliffside trail that someone could remain unseen, and that seems like as good a guess as any. He follows the path up, sticking close to the cliff wall and, spirits, he’s not particularly afraid of heights, but he still wishes the Air Nomads had built these paths a little wider. Not that they’d needed them, of course, but it would’ve been nice.

He crests the hill, only a little winded, and finds her there with her back to him, staring off into the distance. She doesn’t seem to hear him at first, so he kicks a pebble against the rock face because startling someone on a mountain ledge doesn’t seem like the world’s best idea.

She turns at the noise, already on high alert, and then she relaxes. “Sokka.”

“Hey.” Sokka comes to sit next to her, swinging his legs over the side of the ledge and ignoring just how nervous that makes him. Like with the paths, there’s fear of heights, and there’s a much more reasonable fear of falling miles to your death, and he’s not really ashamed to say he has a healthy dose of the latter. “Just came to check on you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Of course I am.”

“You don’t have to be.”

“I’m fine,” she says, the words a little razor-edged.

But if Sokka doesn’t press, no one else is going to, and it seems like someone needs to. “You were in prison.”

“And now I’m not in prison. So I’m fine.” She’s trying hard enough to be convincing that Sokka almost gives up and believes her, except that he remembers holding her, kneeling on the floor of that cell, her breath catching in her throat and her tears soaking the shoulder of his stolen guard uniform. That, and the fact that she’s out here alone in the first place.

“Alright, fine. I won’t keep bothering you about it, I just… I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep it to yourself, you know?”

“I don’t,” she says, but there’s something in it that tells him to let the quiet stretch out between them, and then she shakes her head a little. “Maybe I do. I don’t want to start breaking down now if I’m not sure I can put myself back together fast enough.”

“You’re not doing it alone.”

“I’m not used to that. Or- I don���t know. It’s different.”

Sokka tips his head and asks, “What do you mean?” and he thinks maybe he knows the particular kind of loneliness she’s talking about, but he can’t be sure.

“I was never alone when I had the rest of the Kyoshi Warriors, but I was their leader, you know? I didn’t want to seem like I wasn’t sure of myself because I wanted them to be able to trust me. And I guess they shouldn’t have, but…”

“They absolutely should trust you, are you kidding me? They couldn’t have a better leader.”

Suki looks away, pulling her knee up to her chest and rubbing at a barely visible smudge of dirt on her shoe. “I couldn’t protect them. Not that they can’t protect themselves, I know they can, but I should’ve- I don’t know, I should’ve fought harder. There had to have been something.”

“I know you, okay? I know you would’ve done everything you could, and they know that too, probably even better than I do.”

“I guess,” she says, but she might as well not have said it at all with how little conviction there is behind it.

“I’m serious, it’s not your fault. Losing to Azula and her friends is pretty much a rite of passage around here. They’re scary.”

“I love the way they fight, actually. It was nice to have it not directed at us for once when we were trying to escape.”

“Yeah, I’d kind of like to learn how to throw knives now, but that’s a whole other thing.”

She’s quiet for a minute, looking at something or nothing off in the distance, and then she says, “Do you know me?”

It’s an unexpected step back in the conversation, one Sokka hadn’t been ready for, and he can’t say it doesn’t sting a little. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t mean that in a bad way, I promise. It’s just that sometimes it feels like I’ve known you forever, but then I total up the days we’ve actually spent together and it’s not very many.”

“Well, yeah, but sometimes you can just… get people.”

“I know.” She shakes her head. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. It was just a weird thing to realize.”

“Well, short time or not, it was enough that you knew I’d find you,” Sokka says, but a half-second later he’s seized by doubt. “Unless… that wasn’t true.”

“I meant that. I wasn’t about to lie to you when you were in the middle of trying to rescue me. It’s just a little more complicated than that.”

He reaches out for her hand, lacing his fingers through hers. “So tell me.”

Suki’s expression goes unreadable for a second, back to staring at the horizon, but then she says, “I believed you’d come for me. I really did. But there were bad days when I thought… I don’t know. I guess I wondered if I’d ever make it outside again, because even if you did try to rescue me, so much could’ve gone wrong. Sometimes I almost hoped you didn’t come because I couldn’t watch you die.”

“I was always gonna find you. No matter how long it took.”

“I know. But some days I hoped you didn’t, because then I could keep believing in something. If you got killed trying to rescue me… that would have been it.”

“That’s…”

“Yeah, it’s dark, I know.”

“No, I mean- well, yeah, it is dark, but I get it.” And he thinks he does. He thinks he’d feel the same way, honestly, if it was Suki or Katara or his dad or anyone else risking their lives to save him. It’s something he’d never voice to the rest of the group, too much to put on the people he tries to protect, but it feels safe in the space between the two of them. “I can’t imagine not having anything to do but sit there and think about that.”

“Can’t say I recommend it,” Suki says, and she’s clearly trying to keep her tone light, but it’s not working all that well. There’s too much strain in her voice for that.

“If you wanna tell somebody about that, I know a guy.”

“Oh yeah?”

“His name is Wang Fire. He’s the personal therapist to the Avatar.”

“I don’t know the backstory there, but I’m gonna guess it’s you in disguise,” Suki says, with just the faintest hint of a smile.

“You… would be absolutely correct. But in my defense, I rock a good fake beard.”

Suki makes a show of studying him. “I think I like you okay without it.”

“Okay, well, I’m a little hurt. But the point is, I’ve got two functioning ears and nowhere else to be.”

Suki turns her eyes to the horizon again instead, swinging her legs so her heels kick back against the stone. “I don’t know what there is to say, honestly. I sat in a cell and I tried not to lose my mind. I tried to keep some structure at first, and I’d do some training or try to plan an escape or whatever, but it wears you down after a while. I’d have entire days of just staring at the ceiling trying to remember how to even feel like myself.”

And yes, okay, logically Sokka knows that he hadn’t known where she was, but that doesn’t mean the guilt of not breaking her out sooner doesn’t make it feel hard to breathe. He wants her to keep talking, though, because hopefully getting it all out will do some good, so he just squeezes her hand and waits for her to continue.

“The other prisoners didn’t mess with me or anything- one of them did tell me they thought it was cool that I was an enemy of the state as a teenager, so that was kind of funny- but we weren’t exactly friends, either. It was just… really lonely. I’ve never spent that much time away from the other Warriors, let alone completely on my own.”

“I really can’t imagine. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not like it’s your fault.”

“If I ever figure out something better to say in a situation like this, I’ll let you know. Probably become world famous for it, honestly. I think there’s a real market.”

“Don’t forget me when you’re a celebrity.”

“I could never.” Sokka hesitates for a second, unwilling to shatter the little bit of lightness in the conversation, but he needs to ask the thing he’s been too afraid of. “Azula said- she said something about you being her favorite prisoner. She made it sound like she’d- I don’t know, hurt you, or at least was out there being horrible to you. Was that true, or was that just to throw me off?” Suki hasn’t mentioned it, sure, but maybe it was the type of thing that was too awful to talk about. That’s what it had been in his nightmares, at the very least.

Suki shakes her head. “She was messing with you. She wasn’t pleasant when I got captured or anything, but I didn’t have information she wanted. Once she figured that out, I wasn’t worth her time, and she definitely wasn’t going all the way out to the Boiling Rock for my sake.”

Suddenly, Sokka can breathe a little easier. “I really hoped, just- it’s Azula. Even Toph doesn’t know when she’s lying.”

Suki frowns. “Is Toph… supposed to know when she’s lying?”

“Oh, right. You weren’t there for that, but yeah. Turns out she can tell when someone’s lying because their heartrate picks up.”

“Didn’t know that was possible, but that’s kind of just an everyday thing at this point.”

Sokka sighs. “Tell me about it.”

They sit in silence for a little while longer, but this time there’s less tension to it, not nearly as much hanging in the balance and waiting to be spoken. Maybe Sokka does feel less like he knows the girl next to him than he used to, but maybe that’s not a bad thing, because if he’s lucky he’ll get to know her. He has to believe they’ll have time, after the war. He has to believe they'll make it until after the war.

“Thanks for coming to find me,” Suki says after a while.

“Feel any better?”

“A little.”

“For what it’s worth, I still think you’re the coolest, bravest, toughest person I know.”

She tips her head onto his shoulder. “You’re sweet.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“Oh yeah? When?”

“Uh. By you, right now.”

“You’re also ridiculous.”

Sokka turns and kisses the top of her head. “I can live with that.”

[sml8180]

CiN Behind the Scenes ~ Ch 3: Infiltration

Original Upload Date: 9 September, 2020

Length on Google Docs: ~11 pages

Docs Word Count: 3,651

Reference Tally: 3

NOTICE: This chapter contained content featuring Janus’ father, who is Homophobic and Transphobic. As such, he misgenders and dead-names Janus throughout their conversation, and things do get physical between them at the end of their argument. I’ll be putting bold notices by any sections talking about this content, so that you can skip those sections if you so choose.

1) This was, obviously, a pretty long chapter. I think the average chapter length for this story was around 8 or so pages, with a few breaking 10 pages, and at least one hitting 12+.

        A) Fun Fact: This entire universe was originally going to be a 10-chapter idea and end at that. Obviously, I got really into it, considering Chaos is Normal on its own ended up 22 chapters.

2) You do not wanna know how much I looked into different types of hidden/wear-able cameras for this chapter. You really don’t. I did learn some really interesting stuff, though.

        A) The cameras Remy and Remus wear in this chapter are based on some stuff I found. Technically speaking, neither camera (nor any of the others I feature later in the story) are really out of the realm of possibility in the real world. Maybe a bit advanced, but they could be possible.

3) The team trying to get cameras going and clear, along with audio stuff is honestly fun to write. Similar segments pop up in other chapters, and it’s always amusing to me, for some reason.

4) “I was born first and you know it, Remus” is a line I forgot I wrote, but adore, honestly.

        A) My older brother and I have a 10-year gap in age, so I was literally winging every single sibling moment that goes down between the twins. Hopefully they mostly came out okay.

5) Apparently there’s still a typo in the original Doc that I managed to correct immediately before posing. Uh....

Dunno how I didn’t catch that going through before I got it into the Ao3 editor, but I did catch it before actually hitting Post on the chapter. So... At least there’s that?

6) I love writing Janus and Virgil being good friends/caring about one another. It’s just something I love.

7) Having Virgil and Janus get spotted by Remy and Remus (as well as by Logan, and Roman, via the camera feeds) is honestly something I originally didn’t really intend to put in. But, I felt like having these passing glimpses of the teens made things feel a little more connected when I went through and added it as an experiment, so I kept it in.

8) Giving Remy and Remus their various nicknames and codenames in this chapter was too fun.

        A) Calling Remy “Sandman” was something I really wanted to do at some point in the story, and the opportunity seamlessly presented itself here, so I couldn’t resist.

        B) Later in the chapter, Remus claims that members of the Venom Order (who all use a sort of codename, to protect their identities; hence why Virgil goes by Spider and Janus goes by Deceit) call him “Beetlejuice” literally came from the fact that while writing this chapter, I was listening to the “Beetlejuice” musical soundtrack a lot, and uh... Yeah, it kinda just happened from there. Opened up the perfect opportunity for a joke in a later chapter, too.

9) Logan having to divide their attention between the cameras, Remy and Remus’ audio, and having to listen to make sure Patton and Emile are alright is something I planned from the start of the story. I wanted this to happen at least once. Logan has been protective and even at times a bit paranoid over Patton’s safety for most of the boy’s life, and this is an example of them doing their best to make sure he’s safe, despite the fact they’re doing something extremely dangerous just upstairs.

10) I can’t help but headcanon that Janus almost always wears layers not just to help with dysphoria, but also because he fidgets with the top layer of his clothes when he gets nervous. As such, he has a lot of hoodies, jackets, and vests in his wardrobe.

        A) He also wears layers because he just likes how it looks. Yes, this is me projecting. I like layered looks, okay?

NOTICE: This is where I’m covering the conversation between Janus and his father. This section does describe Transphobia, abuse, and emotionally-distant “parenting” (if you can call anything Janus’ father does parenting at all). There will be a second notice once we are beyond that particular section, so simply scroll to that point if you don’t wish to read these next few points.

11) I wrote Janus’ father as being a very cold sort of parent. If he weren’t a Homophobic, Transphobic, all-around piece of shit, he’d still be a bad parent. He hardly gives a damn when his son does well, and only ever really responds if he feels Janus has done something wrong (like, y’know, existing, since Janus is trans, and Joseph refuses to see him as his son).

12) Joseph repeatedly misgenders and dead-names Janus throughout the conversation, and it was really hard to write. I had to check my work several times to make sure things were “correct”, and I didn’t have any slips that Joseph wouldn’t make.

        A) If any of you hated Joseph immediately once he opened his mouth, then I did my job. I wanted everyone to hate this asshole. I hated this asshole, and I created him. So, yeah, fuck Joseph “Viper” Prescott.

        B) Luckily, I didn’t need to write a ton of Joseph in this story (and likely won’t need to in future stories), because I really hated him from the start, in the “I created you to be awful, and god damn, you are awful” way.

13) Janus telling Joseph off by saying “I am your son! If you can’t see that, then you’re fucking blind, old man!” was a line I wanted to include some form of from the start of the chapter, and it went through a few different iterations before I finally decided I liked this one best.

        A) Also, Janus immediately realizing he went too far with that statement is intended to be a relatable moment (as we’ve probably all had that moment of, “I shouldn’t have said that”), but also intended to show that Janus knows how his father reacts to that kind of thing, and the resulting “Anxiety vs Might as well go all in” sort of conflict Janus has is there to hint that things really aren’t good at home, and it really has changed the way Janus tends to think and approach some situations.

14) Depicting the very quick emotional shifts with Joseph was another thing I had trouble with, but for a very different reason. I have ADHD (I don’t keep this secret, I’ve posted about it and make an effort to be open about the various ups and downs I deal with as a result), and it has a big impact on my writing style. It’s why I try to be descriptive (especially when it comes to places and character body language, expression, emotion, and clothing), since the details help me keep track of tone, location, and the like.

With Joseph, though, I had to throw some of that out the window. I try to keep emotional shifts for characters consistent, and at least hint to them coming up, to make it easier for myself (and other readers who might also have a hard time with sudden shifts and cues like that) to keep track of things. I couldn’t do that with Joseph. Because of how I wanted to portray him in this story (especially this chapter), I had to make things sudden. Hence the sudden and quick way he lashed out (though the inciting force is “clear”; he was angry concerning Janus’ comments), and the rapid shift to him once again being cold and stoic once he’d struck Janus and the teen was on the ground. It was hard to keep it draft-level quick, rather than going through and “refining” it.

NOTICE: We’re done talking about all the really bad stuff. There’s some talk of the aftermath, but all the really explicit things are out of the way, so it should be safe to continue.

15) Virgil is basically me at any gathering. Just, stick to the edges, people-watch, and silently panic if anyone approaches.

16) I think this is the closest Virgil gets to really flying off the handle in this story. I don’t think I ever have him get this close to going and physically fighting someone at any other point, and damn do I wish I had, honestly. Virgil is really protective of Janus, and seeing his friend (read: crush) in his current state sets him off. He’s still fuming when Janus gets his attention again and is clearly desperate to just get out of there, but he pulls himself together and helps Janus out, because he knows that going after Joseph won’t be the helpful thing in this situation.

17) Logan flexing their fingers before starting to really get to work once Remy patches them into the Order system is honestly something I have a habit of doing when I start writing, especially if it’s cold, since the joints in my hands tend to get stiff and lock up a little. Also, I really couldn’t resist the really obvious spy/hacker bit. The opportunity was right in front of me, and you all know by now I take the opportunities when they come.

18) I originally didn’t want to leave the chapter where it ended, since it was a pretty decent cliff-hanger and felt like an awkward stopping point at the time. That being said, I’m glad I did it. This and most of Chapter 4 were going to be one entity, but that would’ve ended up way longer (Chapter 4 ended up roughly 8 pages on its own), and it would’ve been a lot of fairly heavy content all in one go, so it was better broken up. It made me very glad for the little POV shifts throughout, because it gave me a clean place to cut the chapter apart and made it a little less awkward.

And, I think that’s about it for this one! This was a really long chapter (probably the longest I’d ever written as of when I wrote it), and it was full of stuff to help kick off future interactions in the story.

[maribatshipper]

Ice Age reader insert Chapter 2

Y/N shivers slightly until she passes by two Rhinos. She recognises them as the Rhinos that will want to kill Sid. She speeds up past them and they ignore her. Thankfully.

"How the heck am I gonna survive? I'll have to go vegetarian. That'll kill me." She whispers.

"Something I still can't seem to do. If I kill you, I can't take over your body."

Y/N ignores the annoying voice in her head and trips over a piece of wood, scraping her arm.

"Blast it!" Y/N mutters, gaining the attention of a certain mammoth.

She tears off some of her shirt to bandage the wound.

"You okay there?" A voice asks.

Y/N looks up and frowns at the mammoth, "Well, considering I just tripped and gave myself a scrape, I'd say I'm just fine."

"You can talk?" The mammoth asks, surprised.

Y/N realises no other humans have actually spoken in the movies. Best to play along and keep the future secret.

Y/N sighs, "Apparently. Before you ask, I guess I talk the same way anyone else does I guess. You pick it up."

Suddenly, Y/N hears a screaming as something rams into Manfred's butt. He turns and Y/N looks over to see Sid.

"Oh, I love this bit."

"HEY!" Manfred exclaims.

Sid begs, "Just pretend that I'm not here."

Y/N looks over to the Rhinos mutters, "Too late for that."

"That's okay, Frankie. We'll have some fun with him." Carl smiles.

Y/N contemplates asking if they're brothers or a couple, then decides against it.

Sid yells, "Don't let them impale me, please! I wanna live!" Clutching Manny's leg.

Manfred frowns, "Get off of me!"

"Come on, you're making a scene." Carl frowns.

Frankie smirks, "We'll just take our furry piñata and go, if you don't mind."

Something stirs in Y/N making her glare at the two rhinos, who don't know she understands them.

Manfred frowns, "Hey, buddy, if it's not them today, it's just someone else tomorrow."

Sid replies, "Well I'd rather it not be today!"

Y/N shrugs, not saying a word.

"Look, I'm gonna break your neck so you don't feel a thing. How's that?" Carl smirks.

Y/N glares harder at the rhinos.

"Wait a minute, I thought Rhinos were vegetarians?" Manfred asks.

Y/N points at Manfred in agreement, her face saying everything she needs to say.

"An excellent point!" Sid pipes up.

"Shut up!" Manfred frowns.

Y/N just gives Sid a look that says that it's for the sloth's own good.

"Who says we're gonna eat him after we kill him?"

"Yeah, come on, move it!"

Y/N holds her backpack straps threateningly.

Manfred frowns, "You know, I don't like animals that kill for pleasure."

"Save it for a mammal that cares!" Carl growls.

Sid pipes up, "I'm a mammal that cares."

Y/N nods, "I agree with the mammoth and am a mammal that cares. Don't know why I care though. Sloth needs a life adjustment though."

The sloth and rhinos stare at the human in shock.

"What? If it makes you feel better, just pretend I'm any other mammal that walks on two legs." Y/N glares.

Manfred frowns, "Okay. Look, if either of you get across that sinkhole in front of you, you get the sloth."

"That's right, you losers! Take one step and you're dead!" Sid yells and throws a rock.

The rock lands on the "Sinkhole" and bounces a little, causing Y/N to facepalm and glare at the sloth.

"You sure you don't want me to take over? I can actually help you here."

"You were bluffing, huh?" Sid says, terrified.

Manfred nods, "Yeah, yeah, that was a bluff."

Y/N takes off her backpack as the rhinos charge. She pulls out a blanket and smirks.

"That's a horrible plan, N/N. I need your body alive!"

Manfred stands his ground as the rhinos ram into his trunks. Y/N goes around them, a crazy idea on her mind as Sid screams from fear of falling off the cliff.

"Oi! Ugly! Over here! Pick on someone who isn't being protected by a mammoth!" Y/N smirks.

That gets the attention of Frank, who turns around and charges and Y/N, angry. Y/N smirks and holds her blanket like a Mexican bullfighter. He charges at her and she dodges easily, blinding him slightly with the blanket.

"Olé!" She exclaims.

Manfred pushes Carl away from him, causing Sid to whoop, only to scream as the rhinos charge again.

"Eyes on me, uglys! I got a sassy attitude and a blanket! Who wouldn't want to fight me?" Y/N smirks.

"Got me there. I'd fight you just to shut you up."

Y/N deadpans at E/N, then dodges Carl, who almost nicks her hair. Carl doesn't stop, going right towards Manfred, who picks him up with his trunk and swings him around, throwing him away, and a thud is heard. Y/N notices Frank coming right at her and throws the blanket into the air and dodges, getting a scrape on her left knee. Frank aims for Sid only to be picked up by Manfred who then throws him towards his buddy. Y/N quickly grabs her blanket and backpack and runs towards Manfred.

"We did it! We did it!" Sid exclaims, jumping on Manny and Y/N.

Manfred slips off the edge, causing the trio to tumble down the cliff.

***

Y/N groans and collapses face first into the dirt. She gets back up fast and spits out the dirt. She then groans in pain as the adrenaline wears off. She looks at her knee to see a pretty big scrape.

"You have beautiful eyes." Sid smiles.

Y/N turns to see Sid on Manfred's face. She sticks her tongue out in a "Bleh" fashion as she shakes out her blanket and puts it back in her backpack.

"Get off my face." Manfred glares as he gets up, causing Sid to slide off the mammoth's trunk.

Sid smiles, "Wow, you and me, we make a great team! I mean, what do you say we head south together?"

Manfred sasses, "Yeah, great! Hey, jump on my back, you can relax the whole way."

Sid asks, "Woah, really?"

Y/N glares, "No. He's being sarcastic. None of this would've happened if you didn't antagonize the rhinos! If it weren't for the fact I have more self control than them, I'd kill you now just for getting us into the situation, Sloth!"

Sid then notices something odd about the way the human and mammoth are going.

"Hey, wait, aren't you going south? The change of seasons, the migration instincts? Any of this ringing a bell?" Sid asks.

Manfred smiles, "I guess not. Goodbye."

"I have no intention of going south just yet." Y/N frowns, annoyed at the sloth.

He was funny on TV, but now she's there with him she just wants to rip his head off. Must be E/N's influence.

"Why thank you."

Sid smiles, "Alright. Thanks for the help. I can take it from here." and walks away.

Y/N smirks to the mammoth, "He'll be back in three, two, one."

As if on cue, Sid turns back and chuckles, "Ohoho, that whole south thing is way overrated, the heat, the crowds, who needs that? Isn't this great? You and me, two bachelors-"

Y/N clears her throat, reminding Sid she's there.

"And a human, knocking about in the wild." Sid finishes.

Manfred scoffs, "No, you just want a bodyguard so you don't become somebody's side dish."

Y/N snickers.

"You're a very shrewd mammal. Look at you lead the way mister big... uh..." Sid trails off, not knowing the mammoth's or the human's names.

"Y/N."

"Manfred."

Sid groans, "Manfred? Yuch. How about Manny the Moody Mammoth or Many the Meloncholy, or-"

Y/N glares, "His name's Manfred. It's not a bad name. Get lost."

Manny glares and tells Sid, "Stop following me."

Y/N nods, "You're too talkative."

Sid tries to negotiate, "Okay, okay. You got issues. Look, you won't even know I'm here. I just zip the lips and when I say-"

Y/N sighs, droning him out, "This'll be a long walk."

***

Y/N plays music from her memory in mind as the trio continue walking.

"You do know that when you drone something out, I'm stuck listening to it, right?" E/N asks her.

Y/N smirks, glad to annoy the voice in her head.

"I can hear every thought you say, you know."

Y/N knows. She then notices Manfred picking up logs. She quickly realises what she needs to do. She collects a few logs herself, helping Manfred build his hut.

"I'm wiped out." Sid frowns, exhausted from carrying a stick.

"That's your shelter?" Manfred asks in disbelief.

Y/N rolls her eyes and starts building the shelter.

"Hey, you're a big guy, you need a lot of wood. I'm a little guy." Sid replies.

Y/N scoffs, "You have a twig, sloth. Half a stick!"

Sid smirks, "Well, with my little stick and my highly evolved brain," He pokes himself in the eye, "I shall create fire!"

Y/N and Manfred exchange bored glances.

"Fascinating." Manfred frowns as he and Y/N continue building his hut.

"We'll see if brains triumph over brawn tonight, now won't we?" Sid smirks as he snaps the stick in half.

Y/N frowns, "It's gonna rain. You can tell by the clouds, sloth. I can even smell the rain from here. Should be here within a few hours."

***

Sid is still rubbing the stick halves together while Manny and Y/N are protected by the hut. Y/N huddles underneath the blankets she kept in her backpack.

"Hey, I think I saw a spark." Manfred teases.

Y/N yawns, "Leave the sloth alone, Manfred."

Sid asks, "Any chance that I could squeeze in there with you two?"

Y/N shakes her head, "No can do, sloth. I'm only in here because I helped Manfred build it."

Manfred asks, "Isn't there someone else you can annoy? Friends, family? Poisonous reptiles?"

"Oh, my family abandoned me. They just kind of migrated without me. You should see what they did last year." Sid frowns as he tries to get in. Meanwhile, as Sid talks, Y/N's eyes darken, memories bubbling back through. "I mean, they woke up early then they quietly tied my hands and feet and they gagged me with a field mouse and barricaded the cave door and covered their tracks, went to water so I'd lose their scent... who needs them anyway?"

Y/N hides underneath her blankets and eats some cold garlic bread that was in her backpack as she tries not to cry, remembering her own family betraying her. Manfred throws Sid off his tusks.

"So what about you, you got family?" Sid asks.

"No!" Y/N growls, curling into a ball, saving some food for later.

The next opportunity for food will be a watermelon in a few days, if she remembers correctly. She feels herself being picked up and peaks out to see Manny has moved her as he turned around. She huddles back underneath the blanket, silently crying. She hears Sid saying something, and then hears hail. She soon drifts off to sleep.

***

Y/N opens her eyes to find herself in an unfamiliar place, then everything comes back to her and she remembers something.

"The baby." She whispers to herself.

She pulls the blankets off and shoves them in her backpack. Sure, they're probably in need for a wash, but she needs warmth more than cleanliness. She then looks in a puddle to see her hair is all messy, she even has a cowlick on the right side of her head.

"That's new." Y/N mutters.

Manfred gets up and notices Y/N's moved and is trying to fix her hair. Although he thinks it's fur. He starts walking and taps her, then moves forward, away from Sid, who's still sleeping.

"Oh forget it. That's not gonna smooth out." Y/N frowns.

Sid wakes up and notices the two other mammals are leaving. He then quickly follows them, and starts talking. Y/N tries to drone him out.

"UGH! He's giving me a headache! How much longer, Y/N?" E/N groans.

Y/N shrugs, hoping it's only a few hours. He mentions something about mating dances and having the same colour pelt, which makes Y/N's eyes widen.

E/N cheers, "He's gonna stop soon! That lisp was giving me a headache!"

Manfred frowns, "Hey, if you find a mate in life, you should be loyal. In your case, grateful."

Y/N nods, "True. Mine left me for someone apparently better looking and with more benefits. I've been alone ever since because I don't trust my own species anymore."

Manfred frowns to Sid, "Now get away from me."

"Well I think mating for life is stupid." Sid frowns, causing Y/N to curl her fists, ready to punch his guts out. "I mean, there's plenty of Sid to go around-"

He then crashes into Manfred who's stopped and Y/N stares ahead with Manny.

"Manny?" Sid asks as he goes in front of them.

Sid looks ahead to see a human female in the water, holding something. The woman uses the log she's holding onto to get closer to land and tries so hard to push the thing she's holding onto land. It starts rolling when Y/N and Manfred grab the thing. Y/N's eyes show kindness to the woman as she holds her hand out to the woman wordlessly. The woman closes her eyes with a smile and leans against the rock, her strength seeming to have expired. Y/N retracts her hand and looks into the bag to show a baby. Sid walks over and sees it too.

"Look at that. He's okay!" Sid smiles.

Sid, Y/N and Manfred look up to see the mother is gone.

Sid frowns, "She's gone."

"She used the last of her strength to save her son. She couldn't fight against the current any longer." Y/N explains quietly.

Manfred looks down then turns around to walk away, pulling Y/N along slightly, surprising her.

Sid exclaims, "Manny, Manny! Are you forgetting something?"

"No." Manfred frowns.

Sid frowns, "But, but you just saved him!"

Manny retorts, "Yeah, well I'm still trying to get rid of the last thing I saved."

Y/N pulls away from Manny and picks up the baby.

Sid frowns, "You can't leave him here!"

"Look, I may hate my own species, but the child's done nothing to make me hate it yet." Y/N frowns, causing Manny to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

Sid looks to the top of a cliff and points, "Look, there's smoke, that's his herd! Right up the hill! We should return him!"

Sid takes the baby from Y/N, making her roll her eyes as she walks to the stream.

Manny glares at Sid, "Let's get something straight here, okay? There is no "we". There never was a "we". In fact, without me, there wouldn't even be a "you"!"

Y/N nods as she cleans her wounds from yesterday with the stream.

Sid frowns, "Just up the hill-"

Manny interrupts, "Listen to me very carefully, okay? I'm. Not. Going!"

"Fine, be a jerk! I'll take care of him." Sid glares as he walks towards the cliff.

Y/N rolls her eyes as she walks back to Manny.

"Oh, yeah, that's good. You'll take care of him, you can't even take care of yourself! This I gotta see." Manny scoffs.

"You know he's gonna get himself and the baby killed, right?" Y/N mutters.

Manny just watches Sid with an unimpressed face. The two watch as Sid climbs the cliff very unsuccessfully.

"Now this is just embarrassing." Y/N frowns, twirling her hair around her finger.

Manny agrees, "You're an embarrassment to nature, you know that?"

Sid smiles, "This is Cake! I'm fine, I'm fine!" He then whimpers, "I'm gonna die."

Y/N shrugs, "He's gotten further than I thought he'd get. But if he tries to come down, he's gonna get serious bodily harm."

Suddenly, the packet the baby's in opens in the bottom, causing the baby to slip out. Sid catches the baby's shirt with his foot. The baby laughs.

"MANNY!" Sid yells, terrified.

Y/N picks at her fingernails anxiously. She knows what's gonna happen, but it's extra nerve-wracking in person. The baby slips off Sid's foot, causing Manny and Y/N to try and catch him, only for the baby to be caught by a familiar saber toothed tiger, causing the baby to squeal. Y/N picks up a rock and aims when Manny manages to get the baby off the tiger, holding him with his trunk. The tiger growls, only to get a glare from the mammoth.

The tiger clears his throat, "Um, that pink thing is mine."

Y/N scoffs as Sid comes down the cliff, painfully.

"Uh, no, actually, that pink thing belongs to us." Sid says.

He then crashes his head into the cliff a few times, then lands on his head.

"Us?" The tiger asks. "You two are a bit of an odd couple."

Y/N snickers as she's handed the baby.

"There is no us!" Manny glares at Sid.

"I see. Can't have one of your own, so you want to adopt." Tiger smirks, then sees Y/N and adds, "More."

Y/N scoffs, "Oh please. If anything I've adopted them."

He stares at the talking human in shock. He's never heard a human say anything, let alone something half intelligent.

Sid interrupts, "Look, I'm sorry to interrupts your snack, but we gotta go."

"The baby? Please, I was returning it to his herd." The tiger scoffs.

Y/N narrows her eyes at him.

Sid smirks, "Oh yeah, nice try, buck-tooth!"

"You calling me a liar?"

Y/N smirks, "Well, we ain't callin' you a truther!"

Sid frowns, "I didn't say that!"

"But you were thinking it."

There's a moment of silence when Sid whispers to the human and mammoth, "I don't like this cat. He reads minds."

The tiger stands up and smiles, "Name's Diego, friend."

"Manfred. And I'm not your friend." Manny frowns.

Y/N smiles, "Y/N. Also known by my own species as, "Freak", "Weirdo", "Get off my lawn", and a few other unsavoury names. But I prefer N/N or Y/N. The sloth's Sid."

Diego frowns, "Fine, Manfred. If you're looking for the humans, you're wasting your time. They left this morning."

Manny frowns, "Thanks for the advice. Now beat it."

Y/N smiles, "I'm sure we'll find some clue to where they've gone if we go to their last camp. Thanks, Diego."

Manny frowns to Sid, "Alright, I'll help you take it to it's herd, but promise me you'll leave me alone after that."

Y/N sighs, "This'll be a long trip." as the trio and baby start their trip towards the camp.

"Okay, okay, deal! But what's your problem?" Sid asks.

"You are my problem." Manny answers.

Sid smirks, "Well I think your stressed, and that's why you eat so much. I mean it's hard to get fat on a vegan diet."

Y/N whacks Sid over the head. "He's not fat! He's just the right size for a mammoth."

Manny agrees, "I'm not fat. It's all this fur. It makes me look poufy."

Sid shrugs, "Alright you have fat hair-"

Y/N takes the baby, "For that, you're not carrying the baby until we get to the human camp."

[spectralscathath]

ROSE-6 drabble: Uncle Qrow

With the first fight of the Vytal Tournament under team PSCS’s belt and a ship flying in from Atlas, Winter takes her team leader to see the shipment of extra Atlesian Knights arrive in.

And then Qrow shows up. 

----- Penny yelped as Winter grabbed her hand and practically skated on a line of glyphs, aimed directly at the Atlesian airship landing in the docking bay.

Winter slid to a stop, not a hair out of place as Penny was not so fortunate,  landing flat on her face beside her. "Winter?"

"Shh, it's an Ace Operative!"

"Winter, I think I may have developed whiplash," Penny said with full sincerity as she sat back up, fingers brushing against her neural implant to make sure it wasn't scuffed.

Winter hushed her again, gloved hands folded behind her back and toe tapping in a way that Penny had realised was Winter-speak for 'bouncing excitedly in place'. "That's Clover Ebi, captain of General Ironwood's Ace Operatives. They're the elite of the elite, best Huntsmen in the world."

She looked at the man currently involved in a friendly discussion with his pilot, her eyes glowing faintly as her semblance logged his appearance into her mind permanently, ready to obtain more information. "He seems nice."

"You're hopeless."

Clover finished his chat and collected the Atlesian Knights, cracking his neck as he paused to look off the cliff's edge, letting out a long whistle. He turned back towards the school, spotting them there and giving them a wave, an easy-going smile crossing his face. "Hey, mind telling me where General Ironwood's camping out?"

"Of course!" Winter straightened her already-straight posture, white hair tied out of her eyes in a severe bun. "His airfleet is parked above the Emerald Forest, on the other side of the school. I apologise for Beacon not sending an official welcome party to greet you, so I took it upon myself to do so in my school's stead," she smiled, very proud of herself. 

Penny waved back at him. "Hi!"

"Hidey-hi, I'm Clover. Nice to meet you both."

"Winter Schnee!" Winter announced herself. "My father's got a partnership with the military. In fact, I aim to join the Atlas Specialist Unit upon graduation, I've always admired the work of the operatives involved." Winter glanced at Penny as she stood up, Penny took a moment to pat down her skirt. "Oh. And this is my Huntress partner, Penny. And team leader."

"Salutations!" Penny beamed at him. "It's a pleasure to meet you." 

“Can’t say I’ve had too many welcome wagons pulled out,” Clover grinned as he strolled down the path, the squadron of Atlesian Knights whirring in step behind him. Winter practically skipped to keep up with him, Penny walking alongside her. “So, you wanna join the Atlas military?”

“Absolutely, I would have gone to Atlas Academy if my father didn’t send me to Vale for ‘worldly experience’, Winter scoffed, before tossing Penny a very faint smile. “I’ve made do.”

“Well, you’re not required to have gone to Atlas to join,” Clover shrugged, lacing his hands behind his head as they walked down the Beacon Courtyard, the sky painted with pink and orange hues. “Still, I wouldn’t go locking in your future straight away. There’s a lot of options for Huntsmen to take, even in Atlas.”

“Well- yes- I’m sure,” Winter blinked, looking like he’d thrown a wrench into her carefully-laid plans. “But surely you must agree that Atlas’s military is the most efficient way of- OW!” Winter’s potential spiel was cut short as something round and metallic crunched against the back of her head, falling back behind her heels.

“Hey!” A gruff voice called from behind them, grabbing their attention. The three turned, the body of an Atlesian Knight held in the grip of a grizzled man and another sparking in a heap at his feet, Penny’s semblance analysing his somewhat ramshackle appearance and the weapon sheathed on his back, coming to the conclusion that he was a Huntsman returning from a mission. “I’m talking to you, fish bait.”

With that he tossed the headless Knight away, the neck sparking. Penny looked down, the Knight’s head dented inwards like a deflated soccer ball from where it had made contact with the back of Winter’s head, Clover raising a clenched fist to stop the other robots in their tracks.

Winter was already stomping forward. “Excuse me, do you have any idea who I am? How dare you throw something at me!”

“Whatever, ice queen,” The man placed a hand against her forehead and rudely pushed her aside, and Penny could practically hear the steam coming from Winter’s ears. “I ain’t talking to a Schnee.”

“You’re always so rude,” Clover rolled his eyes, hands on his hips. “Would it kill you to be nice, Qrow?”

Penny glanced between them. They knew each other? 

Qrow scoffed and cocked his head, a pale red stare piercing through Clover. “So: running errands for Ironwood again? Delivery boy’s a real downgrade from ‘best huntsman in Atlas’.” Qrow made air quotes, sarcasm dripping off his tone.

“Couldn’t resist the opportunity, Vale’s gorgeous this time of year,” Clover gave him a grin, teal eyes hard. 

Qrow snorted and squinted at him, placing a foot on a destroyed Knight and stepping his foot through it with the screech of metal. “None of your lil fan club around, boy scout?”

Clover’s grin slid off immediately. “You know you just destroyed Atlas military property. Right?”

Qrow looked down at the robots and stepped back, faking a look of surprise. “Ohhhh, I’m sorry.” His grin came back, and this time it was cutting. “See, I mistook this as some kind of... ‘sentient’ garbage.”

A muscle clenched in Clover’s jaw. “Thanks for checking up on things. We’ll be on our way now.”

“You Ace Ops think you’re so great, huh?” Qrow sneered.

“I mean, ‘ace’ implies that, if I recall correctly.” Clover gave him a mock salute, the fake smile back on his face

“Yeah, big talk coming from a bunch of attack dogs.” Qrow crossed his arms. “Buncha sell-outs and bootlickers, just like ol’ Ironwood.”

“I’d be careful about what words you’re going to say next, Qrow, you’re not painting a good picture of yourself.” Clover warned, his fists clenching where they rested by his hips, the leather creaking from the force

“Careful, huh? Big talk coming from you lot.” Qrow blinked innocently at Clover, his smile sly and mocking. “How’s Atlas’s newest prototype, by the way? Still on the sixth shot or did it need an upgrade already?”

“If you don’t shut up right now,” Clover’s hand rested on his weapon. “Then I’m gonna knock you off the edge of that cliff.”

Qrow pushed his hair out of his face. “Make me.”

Clover took the bait, his weapon in hand and being slung towards Qrow faster than Penny could make out. It was only when she saw the familiar glimmer of razor string that she recognised the thin wire Clover used, specifically to yank Qrow towards his waiting hook.

Qrow barely managed to slide under it, skidding past the other huntsman in time  for the back end of Clover's weapon to shoot out, the harpoon clanging against the weapon Qrow carried on his back.

Qrow smirked and pulled it out with a flourish, catching the massive broadsword with his left hand like it was a child's toy. He grinned at Clover as the fishing hook and harpoon reeled neatly back into Clover's weapon, Clover giving him an unimpressed look. 

Qrow attacked, spinning into a series of strikes that were all blocked with enough force the impact blew Penny's hair from her face. She watched, barely able to keep up with the speed of the Huntsman, but ready to replay it later to herself at a slower speed.

Winter stomped back over, fists clenched at her sides. “The absolute nerve- how DARE he treat me like that?”

“Hey, Penny, what’s going on?” Penny turned and waved at Yang, inviting her over.

“Greetings, Yang! These two men have started a brawl!” She informed her, looking back in time to see Clover dodge a literally earth-shattering blow. 

“Some- some vagabond gutter rat started attacking an esteemed specialist of the Atlesian military!” Winter crossed her arms. “And the roach threw something at me!”

“Wait- did you say vagabond?” Yang looked past Penny and her lilac eyes lit up with childish excitement. “That’s my uncle! HI UNCLE QROW!”

“Of course you would be related to that cur,” Winter grumbled.

“Yeah, he’s kind of a disaster.” They watched Clover’s fishing hook tangle around Qrow’s arm and send him flying into Beacon’s colonnades. “Who started the fight?”

“Mr Clover,” Penny tilted her head. “Is that unusual?”

“Yikes. Qrow must have said something really bad to piss him off.” Yang crossed her arms. “Ten bucks he wins.”

“I- what?” Winter puffed up. “Fine! Ten on Captain Ebi.”

Penny tilted her head. “They’re coming back.” She could tell by the path of destruction they were carving into the grounds. 

Clover punched Qrow across the face, Qrow shooting him at point blank range before Clover managed to hook his line around the broadsword and throw it away. The chance at victory was short lived, as at that moment Qrow twisted his hand, causing him to drop his own weapon. They two began to brawl as Yang and the rest of the students goaded them on with a chorus of ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’, punches, kicks and elbows being traded before another voice made them both freeze.

“What is going on here?” General Ironwood snapped as he walked up, Ruby skipping along behind him. 

Clover looked up like he’d just gotten caught with his hand in a cookie jar, holding Qrow in a chokehold as Qrow had his teeth sunk into Clover’s forearm. “General Ironwood, sir.”

Ironwood pinched the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh. “What happened.”

Clover dropped Qrow and shoved him away like he burnt him, picking up his weapon and neatening his uniform up. “He started the brawl, sir.”

“That’s not true, boy scout here made the first strike.” Qrow stretched out, rolling his shoulders as he hunted for his weapon.

“Is that true?” Ironwood looked tiredly between them.

A muscle twitched in Clover’s jaw. “... Yes, sir.”

Ironwood looked around, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth as Yang waved cheerfully at him, Penny mimicking her to be nice. Ruby hid behind the General, peeking out at her uncle with worried silver eyes, her gaze flicking to the destroyed robots as her mouth gaped in horror. 

Qrow’s grin fell off his face, pale red eyes burning a hole into Ruby’s head as he glared directly at her. “Brought the whole circus with you, James?”

Ironwood stepped to the side, cutting off Qrow’s line of sight to Ruby. Penny and Winter glanced at each other in confusion, Yang looking away as her shoulders slumped, robotic hand coming up to play with a few strands of her golden hair. “What are you doing here.”

“Came to see my niece fight in the tournament, why else would I be here?” Qrow tossed a mocking salute at Clover as he walked past Ironwood towards Beacon Tower, the squad of Atlesian Knights following him with two of their numbers already gone. Penny couldn’t help but think it was wasteful. Surely those robots could have done good protecting people instead of being destroyed so carelessly?

“What a wanker,” Winter muttered, distracting Penny from the arrival of Ozpin and Goodwitch. 

“I’m sure he’s not so bad,” Penny hiccupped, finally making the connection between his comments on makes and models and sentience, and how Ruby looked at him like she was guilty for existing. 

Winter gave her a disbelieving look. “Right. Well. I hope that Captain Ebi doesn’t get punished for taking such a correct action.”

“He started a fight, however?” Penny pointed out.

“That hooligan deserved it!”

“Probably did.” Yang stretched, the yellow-painted metal of her arm gleaming in the setting sunlight. “Anyway, I’ll have that tenner whenever you’re ready, Winnie.” 

“What? Absolutely not. They had a draw, at best.” 

Penny gave Ruby a comforting wave, mouthing ‘salutations’ at her to try and cheer her up. Ruby gave her a tiny smile back, staying safe behind General Ironwood to avoid Qrow’s ire. Personally, Penny agreed with Winter. Qrow absolutely deserved to be taken down a peg for what he was saying about Ruby. 

It was like he didn’t think she was as human as the rest of them. 

How could one of her own family be so wrong?

[pastel9girlbunny000die]

(Y/n) POV:

I never had a happy childhood as long as I can remember, not even a decent childhood memory, my mother never once care for me much less said a nice word...

my father his.. Let's just say... His never around, but when he is he used me as a personal punching bag or so.

I don't have any siblings and there's not much to say about my life.

Everyone i get closed to seems to distant themselves... when i turned out not being "worth it" ?

In the end I just got used to it.

Until...

One day the tables turned, I got into U.A the hero course.

It was pretty crazy first the USJ got attack by the Lov, then the festival after that out of the blue Katsuki demanded that I date him, then he got kidnapped by the Lov.

Thats just how crazy my life has gotten.

Present Day still (Y/n) POV:

I have been having a lot of doubt lately about katsuki, my boyfriend.

It wasn't to long ago he demanded me to date him, since than we haven't spend a lot of alone time or for that matter kissed.

"..." I sigh rolling my pen between my fingers staring blankly at my dorm room wall. "I guess it was all for show." I mumbled.

Suddenly knocking was heard on my door more like loud banging

"Oi! Extra, open up!" Katsuki's loud voice rang through my ears. I got up curiously opened the door letting the blond ash king explosion murder walk pass me.

He has an irritating look on his face?

"You know its late? I was about to sleep." I decided to go sit down next to him on the bed.

...

"So exstra, what do two people do when their in a relationship?" Katsuki question letting it sound more like a demand

My eyes widen at the little blush on his face.

A few seconds passed leaving an akwared silence.

"I don't know? I've never been in any kind of relationship at all."

"Right..." ... "What about we go get something to eat tomorrow?"

"Katsuki, why do you like me? I have nothing spacial nor do I have a amazing quirk. So why?"

"Your... Nothing tomorrow at 9 meet me at the dorm gate." Katsuki ordered walking out but stopped "and don't be late!" He growled slamming my door shut.

"What was he going to say?" I question brushing it off, laying down while falling at sleep in the process.

Who knows? I'll ask later.

Time Skip...

Its been quite some time since I started dating katsuki, its been a wild ride since that day in my room,

Its more like 5 months since he invited me out.

It all started with that one dinner and great memories, we got to know more about one and other what we like and dislike.

I learned how easy it was to handle the angry pomeranian, I also learned how good at cooking he can be and all his other talents and good morals.

But he can still be a little overprotective when it comes to me I don't really mind it as long as I can get a kiss or a hug out of it.

When the others found out I became Katsuki's girlfriend\boyfriend they where suportive but kaminari and mineta started whining about how katsuki got a lover before they did, I also had to avoid Izuku cause Katsuki literally tried to kill him the last time I talked to him.

Beside all that I really love being with katsuki he can be loving from time to time.

But its all seems too good to be true, a loving boyfriend and supportive friends. I doubt it from time to time?

Present time:

"Class dismissed." Mr.Aizawa said falling on the ground in his iconic yellow sleeping bag crawling out the door followed by some other students heading out.

"Finally, my butt feels numb." I yawned standing up from my desk

"Oi, babe wanna hang out in my room later?" Katsuki asked walking over to me with his bag hanging on his shoulder and a calm look on his face.

"Sure, katsu I'll just grab my stuff." I said in a smiling manner giving him a small pack on the cheek about to take my bag.

"Oh, hi (Y/n) Your still here, do you mind, like helping a girl out I got a few books I wanna return to the library, can you give me a hand?" Mina question holding a mountain of books.

"What the hack Mina." I fast walked over to her grabbing a few books before they where about to fall.

"Hey exstra do it yourself!" Katsuki barked at Mina who stayed unfuged by the angry yelling it's a daily thing so everyone is basically used to it by now.

"Chill down katsu, I'll be back in a minute." I winked at him walking down the hallway chatting a bit with the alien queen.

Little Time skip:

"That took longer than expected, I wonder if katsu is still there?" I mumbled to myself heading back too class.

I suddenly heard something getting knocked over, I rushed over the class room door.

The sight before me scared me shirtless.

Katski was on the floor with a girl I didn't know, maybe from another course but that wasn't the main issue they where kissing...

In the moment

I've become emotiontless because nothing can be worse than this feeling.

I feel the pain eating me up inside until I become this hollow soul of pain and nothing else, my heart broken into million pieces.

I wish I could turn back time, never agree to be this cheater girlfriend\boyfriend

I should have known, everyone the same

First mom than dad... Now katsuki their all the same, just a bunch of liars.

My tears built from deep inside and flowed down my cheeks, my tears spilled down my face like a waterfall running down from high cliff. My body started trembling compared to how messed up my mind was.

I couldn't stay here any longer, I turned running out the school while my tears spilled out my eyes.

I no longer feel like living. I can't. Its all over.

Nobody's POV:

The ash blond growled shoving the girl off him wiping his mouth off, an angry look spread on his face meaning his not very please at the moment

"You, fucken extra, touch me again and I'll kill." Katsuki barked with little explosion blasting from his palms.

"I-i Sorry!" The girl stuttered running away for her life.

"Damn, where's (Y/n)?" Katsuki mumbled taking his and his lover's bag walking out the class.

Meanwhile (Y/n) was in his\her room baling her\his eyes out wrapped up in tons of blankets.

"Hey, (Y/n) you in there?" Katsuki voice called out from the closed doors, but (Y/n) ignored him trying to block out the blonde pomeranian loud banging on the door.

Katsuki had enough he was worring and angry at his lover for making him concern that he decided to blast down the door, stepping over the broken wood he head over to (Y/n) bed.

Katsuki kneeled down in front of her\his bed thier all crawled up into a ball and pillow stuffed over thier head.

"... whats wrong?" Katsuki sighed questioning his lover who remained silent.

"I won't be able to help if you don't tell me." Katsuki said yanking the pillow off.

"You jerk, give me back my pillow!" (Y/n) said in anger trying to grab it but katsuki just throws it behind him.

"So you can talk." Katsuki smirked grabbing (Y/n) hand pulling her\him off the bed letting her\him fall onto katsuki.

"Ouch." (Y/n) mumbled realizing she\he was on katsuki (Y/n) wanted to get off immediately, but katsuki trapped her\him locking her\his waiste between his legs and holding a iron grip on (Y/n) arm and a hand holding pressing her\him against his chest.

"Now you can't get away from me, and i have your full attention. Whats wrong?" Katsuki smirked at (Y/n) but sounded worried.

"Y-you cheater!" (Y/n) yelled her\his tears dripping down her\his cheeks, the teary eyed vision of katsuki lover made him angry, no one hurts his only love and gets away alive, but it confused him more that he was called a cheater knowing fully well that he is forever committed to only (Y/n) alone.

"(Y/n) what do you mean? Cheater?"

"Don't l-lie to me I-i saw you, k-kissing that girl." (Y/n) voice cracked making it bearly hearable. Except katsuki heard every word that came out off (Y/n) mouth.

... Silence filled the room with little hiccups coming from (Y/n) where she's\he's pressing thier face into his chest trying to save little bit of the last warmth she\he might ever get from katski.

It was nice while it lasted. The words ranged over and over in (Y/n) mind, katsuki will leave her\him after he/she found out that katsuki knows that (Y/n) knows he's been cheating, than he'll go to be with his real love.

"You-" Katsuki paused with a deadly gaze in his eyes it scared the hack out of (Y\n) when she\he looked up into katsuki's eyes.

"You honestly think i'd leave you. Or fucken cheat on you?! Your my one and only bitch! Your the one and only exceptional exstra in my life, the love of my life. (Y/n) I fucken love you." The words katsuki angrly barked out touched (Y/n) deeply, who knew katsuki could actually feel, Much less love, and here (Y/n) was ready to give up on ever loving again as if katsuki would leave her\him for another.

His not like (Y/n) mother or father, katsuki cares and loves deeper than any average person.

"Bu-but you where ki-" katsuki stopped (Y/n) from finishing her\his sentance by forcing his lips onto (Y/n) lips, a innocent kiss quickly turned into a heated make out session. Katsuki and (Y/n) partened catching thier breaths, (Y/n) shyly gazed into katsuki's crisom eyes.

"I dare you to finished that sentance or ill take you right here and now."

"What happened?" (Y/n) asked wanting to know how katsuki ended up on the floor with the girl kissing him.

"That stupid exstra doesn't know how to tie her shoes, the low life tripped knocking me over landing on me and we accidentally touched." Katsuki said looking irritated.

(Y/n) didn't know how to feel, should she\he be mad or happy on one had a girl kissed her\his boyfriend and on the other hand katsuki wasn't cheating.

"Katsu, I'm sorry. I misunderstood. I-" katsuki placed his finger onto (Y/n) lips shushing her\him.

"I love you.. (Y/n) ❤" katsuki says giving (Y/n) a soft passionate loving kiss.

"I wuv you too, katsu~" (Y/n) mouned in the kiss wrapping her\his arms aroud the blonde neck letting katsuki hug her\him tighter.

In the end it was all a misunderstanding.

The end.. Haha xox

P.S sorry i couldn't stay on the only girl version & i had to rewrite the end cause it was supposed to end with (Y/n) running away never being seen by anyone again, but it was too sad, I'm a sucker for a happy ending.