#3. the past is in the past it was a yucky never to be tried again relationship and you regret it

[da-pretty-bunbun-pupper]

KINK JAR EXPLANATIONS HEHE :33

spanking; yes but rarely ever harsh, spit; YES AWA AWA EVERYWHERE PLS, slapping; yes but again depends on how harsh, ownership; i luvv being sumones pet bf n i like the idea of having a pet bf but i rlly couldnt do that full time lol, breeding; only in the sense of animal play, rope bunny; i luvv ropes n chains n bondage BUT i hateeee the idea of my legs being tied to sumthn past my knee point my only exception would be like rlly interesting bondage or shibari, wax play; luv but im also a pussy when it comes to pain lol, affectionate cruelty; LITERALLY YES its prolly the main way i dom and i cant make relationships if i cant be a lil mean to u lol i feel like this also ties in w faux sympathy which is my favvvv both to give n receive, orgasm denial/control/chastity; i could only do that to a sub or if i rlly rlyy trusted my dom, edging; im new to it but it seems fun :3, ordered to masturbate; LOVE i luv luv luv it in any way ever (tho public play fantasies r great but rarely ever sumthn id consider doing), punishment; it depends i do like harsh punishments occasionally but still it depends on the dom, funishment; yes pls always <3, manhandling; YES PLS i always want sumones hands all over me n i can neverrrr take my hands off u if i like u, pain; once again luv but im a pussy lol, bondage; yes pls always, knifeplay; i am obsessed w the idea of doing it to a (masc) sub but id rlly have to trust my dom if i was receiving, brat; im more of a tease rlly and as a 4'11 person it can be a bit hard to brat tame but i still luvvvv it, obedience; im naturally pretty obedient n i luvv seing how happy it makes my dom n i think easy going obedient subs r jus sooo cute!, humilation; this one depends but still yummy, degradation; YES as long as everyone is comfortable i luvvvvvvvvvv degradation but i think theres always stuff that should be off the table but like i said i literally cant have a relationship w u if a bit of meanness isnt involved, exhibitionism; rlly depends only public exhibitionism in fantasy never irl, somno; literally soo yummy but it makes me uncomfy if the sub isnt like explicitly told after lol even if its already been a conversation still not my thing lol, body worship; i dont like using the word 'worship' in my kink stuff since i am religious but i will always luvvvvv adoring my partners body i cant even help myself n im kinda opening up to a partner doing it for me, rough sex; depends on the kind of rough but yum lol, being babied; OFCCCC i literally cant function w/o being babied n i cant have a sub if i cant baby them ive tried n i got pissed lmao, roleplay; mhm mhm ofc :3, dd/lg; for me its dd/lb but still one of my all time fav kinks, cnc; yes but only in certain ways like 'oh well maybe i did want this' is yucky to me, intox; YES PLS, switch; hehehh :33

cumslut; YES PLS lemme make u cum multiple times a day have it be our only lube put it in all my food n drinks make it my new skincare routine awa awa, outdoor play; i luv the idea of backyard stuff or on hikes or sumthn but like i said not much public play lol, rules; depends but i do always like having ground rules like if u have certain chores for me or dos n donts as a lil etc etc, im new to primal stuff, never preggo stuff ever yuck, marks n bruises; YES i luvv bruises n burns on me and i luvvv cvt marks and burns on my subs, nipple play im still new to n im still getting comfy w my chest, impact play; yes but again im a wuss for pain lol, home videos; I thinkk this means ur own personal porn u made?? Lol but I’m always down for any sort of filming, oral fixation; ABSOLUTELY it’s one of my biggest issues n stims n I can actually get upset if I don’t have sumthn to entertain my mouth w lol, corruption; it depends I think I’m more of a “bending/turning into the sub ur don wants u to be” rather than “lets make it worse” idk, free use; YES but it depends on the situation bc im free use as in “whenever u want wherever u want” and not “whoever wants to use me” lol sounds adorable to watch on a sub tho, authority figure; depends rlly like teacher? Yes! Boss? Probably? Religious figure? Absolutely not!, age gaps r yummyyyyy but I think it would feel uncomfy to have a big age gap w a sub (like more than 5-8 years), no breastfeeding yuck yuck yuck, i luvvv gags, petplay; SOOO OBVI N ALWAYS A NEED, praise; i luv luv luvvv it and i cant even express how much i luv giving it, face sitting/fucking; as a virgin i cant comment on it much ig but it sounds hot lol, clothes i like but dont have a specific thing for, still new to rimming n stuff, anal; yum yum yum >//< feels sooo good, watersports/piss; YES DUH but i think id feel awkward doing it to sumone else lol but i would rlly like to see a sub chug my piss at sum point lol, threesums/foursums/more numbers lol i luvvvvv im obssessedddddd the best the best, monsters; YES i luv water monsters (but not tentacles) and land monsters n demons/shadows, feet is a massive no, size difference; as a small sub i luvv but as a dom idc lol, overstim; YES i actually dont considerate cumming unless i overstim lol, caging/confinement; im still new to that but it sounds cute! n ofc i luv pet cages too lol even tho thats prolly not what theyre talking abt

anyways enjoy my yap shesh! bye bye ! :3

and heres the empty version too

[fatuismooches]

SMOOOCHES!! Hii my lovely dove!! ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ʚ🍓ɞ

Okay okay! I know I’m flooding your inbox again but I have some fluff! (With angst) so if you don’t mind! —Okay I just have to say that soft Dottore is <3 especially since he’s cold and serious all the time (and doing evil man things) so him being soft for his lover could make me cry!! (especially since although he may have a soft spot for you him actually being full blown soft is like once in a blue moon) Okay okay so! Dottore most likely takes a few weeks or maybe more than a month to make new medication for Fragile!Reader whenever his last prototype fails. And with it I’m sure he gets frustrated, of course never to sweet little you. But, at times these medications he makes can have their side effects. Which is why Dottore almost always supervises you himself whenever he injects you with these medications. Since well, your fragile body sometimes may reject them, or lead to you on some occasions feeling fatigued or nauseated. So usually when you do receive a new medication you find yourself in his lab for most of the day. Always having to inform him how you’re feeling and if something feels off. Zandik of course is always keeping a keen eye on you even if he might be busy with some experiment. As one moment you can be talking about some fun thing you had done with the clones a few days ago, and the next you could be vomiting or worse, faint. So to say that Zandik isn’t concerned about you is an understatement. He really wishes he didn’t have to experiment new medications on you every few weeks or so to hopefully cure your illness. (He has injected at times some of his “patients” with the medication he’d use before giving it to you, but since your body is frail and weak the outcomes are always much different than compared to a regular healthy person) but Zandik would definitely let you sit on his lap while he works. Since he knows you’re very very vulnerable in this state. Which he doesn’t mind (as much as he hates to admit it Dottore is quite possessive over you) and he’ll even gently caress your hair with his free hand while the other writes away. So although you may feel yucky and absolutely exhausted. Zandik tries his best to alleviate your pain. Since you always say that being near him or being held by him makes you feel 1000% better. (Which he knows may not be true in actuality, but he just wants to make his lover happy) ૮꒰ྀི⊃´ ꒳ `⊂ྀི꒱ა

But I hope you enjoy this brainrot I thought of this at like 12 AM at midnight since the power in our neighborhood was out for a whole 2 hours this past Sunday. It was kinda creepy seeing all the houses and streetlights have no lights turned on. The heat was unbearable Ꮚ ᵒ̴̶̷̥ ‸ ᵒ̴̶̷̣̥ Ꮚ but I hope you’re doing absolutely wonderful! I love u so so much I give you so many hugs and chu chus!! I just wanna squeeze n cuddle u smooches !!! >< may you have an absolutely wonderful week and continue enjoying the rest of your summer!

-From your dear boo boo 🎐 anon! ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

🎐 ANON BACK AGAIN WITH THE BEST BRAINROTS!!!

I am happily consuming soft Dottore, thank you for this sm 😭 (soft dot has been on my mind lately, I'm just. I need him to cuddle me) You’re so right, if he isn’t being serious, he’s being cunning or mocking too, so seeing him being actually genuine with his love for you!! Is so! <33 You can’t help but feel special because you’re the only person who will ever witness him like this!

It’s kind of funny actually. Dottore, the mad doctor, spending this much time on a cure. Helpful medicine. Everyone else would guess that instead he’s concocting poisons and injections to hurt others with (which they aren’t wrong) but they would never guess he’s carrying out genuine doctor things. Which he honestly couldn’t blame them for. If anyone saw how softly he acted with you, well… either they’d be dead, or he’ll never live it down if it was one of the Harbingers.

You dread taking new medications or getting shots, but you can’t help but feel you owe it to Zandik. You know how hard he works on these things, only for them to not work. His expression remains the same but you know he feels disappointed every time nothing seems to change in your condition. At the very least, you have a good amount of time to finally hang around him uninterrupted. Archon knows how challenging it is to be a Harbinger’s spouse, much less Dottore’s, with his schedule and lack of time. And to have his undivided attention on you? Phew.

Being treated by him so softly is enough to make you swoon!! But too bad you feel too tired to do that, so you have to opt for snuggling into his chest on his lap (which is arguably more comfy than your bed.) Feeling his gloved hand stroke your hair along with the soothing sound of pen against paper is far more relaxing than you thought it’d be. It felt like you could sleep for hours. Seeing him so concerned about your needs was so <3 to you, even though you felt crappy and down, he still wanted to be in your company and comfort you too <3

Omfg I love this crazy psycho doctor man so much. He would be so good with you too, he would have all the necessary equipment and such when you start to show certain side effects, already have his bed prepared for you to nap in if you get tired. He has many notebooks dedicated to you and how your condition, mental and physical, has changed over the countless years, he even has a section for new things he noticed about you and certain things you told him that he found amusing. Of course the lengths he would go to for you is limitless and he’d have some unwilling test subjects ready for whatever batch of medicine he’s working on next 🚶‍♀️(This is a little hc I thought of literally just now, but I was thinking, since he’s a doctor and all, he probably draws diagrams of the body every now and then, so what if he doodles you sometimes ;( he finds himself drawing your hand with your wedding ring on it!!)

I’m so sorry about your power! I would be so scared, I hope you’re okay now 💖 I am doing fine, I hope you are too my dear boo boo 🎐 anon 🫶🥰 GIVING YOU MORE HUGS AND KISSES SMOOCH!!! ILY!! ENJOY YOUR WEEK TOO!! As for me, I just hope I’m able to move around this summer. Whenever it’s hot, all my energy is sapped out of my body lol🧍‍♀️

[jocelynmakenna]

It's time for my two cents to the umbrella academy season 4 clusterfuck:

Hey what the fuck was that?

Like I was perfectly fine with the time skip and even though there were some weird choices (cough Klaus) I was perfectly fine to see where it was going to go.

But what the fuck.

Every fucking episode was worse than the one before, finding new ways to trash the characters and ruin any chance at a character arc for any of them.

The lack of discussion of prior seasons (like are we gonna mention ANY of Allison's atrocious behavior?) was kind of odd but I can move past that seeing as they got a 4 episode cut. The season tried to return to a status quo that it implied existed but never defined, leaving it feeling empty.

But let's talk about the characters MY GOD. I'll start with the obvious. Five and Lila? Why??? WHY??? Like overall, the actors have great chemistry but ROMANCE??? Absolutely not. I think a dad/daughter relationship is much more fitting for them at minimum. If I were writing this season, my biggest change to the train arc would have been to have Five with like Klaus. Giving Klaus distance from his family could have served the story better than... I don't know BURYING HIM IN A DEAD DOG'S GRAVE AFTER A WOMAN USED HIS BODY TO HAVE SEX WITH A GHOST WHICH OF COURSE ONLY HAPPENED BECAUSE A GUY WANTED HIS MONEY WHICH JUST IS SO CLOSE TO SA IT MIGHT JUST BE BUT YK GOTTA MOVE ON GOTTA TALK ABOUT BEN NOW.

Because Ben!! Spends the first like two episodes bitching about how the umbrella academy folks aren't his family (because they're not) and then he dumps everything for a girl he happened to touch(???) and then starts the apocalypse. Like congrats man on being the most macguffin of a person ever.

Viktor was overall fine. I have nothing too harsh to say about him, but once again, his acceptance of Allison in his life after she KILLED HIS DISABLED ADOPTED SON is wild. Allison continued having her character ruined by being a "bad" mom which like. Why did you destroy the original universe to get your daughter back to be a bad mom.

Diego and Luther were just. There. They took up space and screentime with nothing important nor interesting. Everything about them and their arc sucked the fun out of the entire show. Luther being comedic relief could have been a fine choice if they bothered to have him DO anything important.

I'm sorry I'm talking about the love triangle again WHY!! FIVE AND LILA AND DIEGO IS WEIRD. ITS SO WEIRD. ITS QUITE LITERALLY THE WORST CANON SHIP IVE EVER SEEN (yes that includes Reylo at least they had ~force connection~ rather than just being sad and fucking your BROTHERS WIFE). WHO YOU HAVE KNOWN SINCE SHE WAS 6. WHEN YOU MURDERED HER PARENTS. AND THEN SHE'S KNOWN YOU EVER SINCE. INCLUDING THE TIME YOUR BRAIN WAS IN THE BODY OF A CHILD. A MINOR. ITS YUCKY ITS NASTY. ITS AWFUL.

Ok the ending. Nothing pisses me off more than a show that decides to undo itself at the end (I'm looking at you Legion, you had so much promise up until the end). The cleanse was Fine. It definitely could have been done better, explained more, built up more etc. I will blame that again on a lack of episodes but there's SO MUCH that could have been cut to make the season flow better (perhaps like the 7 years of train problems!). And then the cowards move of just. Killing off all the main characters (or actually removing the characters from history. It reeks of lazy writing and just. Not caring.

Overall - 2/10

Crazy how this show ended on that season 3 cliff hanger!

[bearcubblues]

im a little nervous to share these because it's kind of an odd fandom to have agere hcs for but im being brave. trevor phillips regressor hcs because i can do whatever i want :3

⚠️ some of these are sad, warning for past child abuse

- typically 9-12 years old, he's a big kid. he can drop to like 4-7 though that's rare

- has tantrums and is angry and cusses michael out and is a brat

- needs things done for him, his motor skills are really bad when regressed

- gets really pouty about how tall he is he wishes he was smaller

- constantly asking michael for snacks he just wants goldfish and fruit snacks constantly

- still tugs on the hem of michael's shirt to get his attention even though michael is 3/4" taller and trevor is fully capable of talking

- michael is patient with him but he doesn't get it at all. he can't bring it up to friedlander without him thinking that he's doing it and he doesn't want that

- incredibly secretive about it michael is the only one that knows. it's borderline involuntary but he's able to keep it stifled until he's alone or just with michael. lamar has almost found out about it but he doesn't want that to happen because he doesn't think lamar would get it at all

- he doesn't really get it himself it's just a function of his brain that he doesn't have a ton of control over. he's read like two articles about it

- his parental issues make it a really weird thing for him. he was never able to really be a kid when he was a kid but he doesn't get any sort of catharsis from it now. he feels kind of sick when he's done and itchy and guilty. it really doesn't help him at all but he likes making michael do things for him

- rarely cuddly but sometimes he just sits there and pouts and huffs and crosses his arms until michael sits down beside him and he'll lay in his lap and cry because he feels yucky

- he is ONLY t or trev or trevvy. he hates getting called trevor when he's regressed. trevvy is his favorite

- very much "i'm boooooredddd" and he turns down anything michael suggests. he usually just watches impotent rage/plays with impotent rage figures

- sometimes gets scared and thinks that michael is going to hit him because of memories of his dad and he tries to either hide or hit michael first and he has to be physically restrained and it's very stressful for everyone involved

- when he gets too little he just cries and lashes out and doesn't understand why he feels so helpless and guilty and bad. it's incredibly unpleasant for him but he can't help it

- didn't start doing it until michael raised from the dead. he doesn't know why

- exclusively calls michael "mikey" (which he already does a lot. but when regressed it's ONLY mikey)

- he bites

- scribbles pictures of michael getting hurt in various ways when he's mad at him

- sleeps a lot. if jimmy or tracey or amanda come home and see trevor passed out on their couch it's a guarantee he was regressed when he went to sleep

[sucktacular]

Cw health scare, passing out, food mention, weed + being high, mention of blood work/needles

Had a yucky time last night that was very scary and wanna vent about it

and honestly kinda hope maybe someone that has low blood sugar moments or panic attacks or whatever the fuck could give me some insight if you're comfy doing so!!

Other wise just ignore this post :3 I'm okay now! But obv will get it looked at, prommy.

Also cw disordered eating... I don't mean to do it for any particular reasons I'm just very bad at remembering to eat, eating enough, and having too low energy to make anything lately. I got fresh groceries yesterday night tho so I'll be back to eating right for a bit.

So I uh nearly passed out at 3am alone in my kitchen trying to make a sandwich and I'm kinda pissed that my body is shitting out on me and now I gotta go to the human mechanic and get my stuff looked over cuz uh... Not normal happenings

I got up after laying down in bed for a while trying to sleep but got hungry and I was a little zooted too to be fair. Collected myself. Got all dressed to leave my room and was totally fine. If it was from standing up too fast it should have definitely hit me by that point but I was fine.

Went down and took all the things out of the fridge I needed for a sandwich. Slow and meticulous , not too fast cuz I was stoned and like to take my time to be quiet. Opened the bread, got a plate, opened the mayo, mayo'd my bread, then I went to open the deli chicken and started greying out and getting really light headed and weak and shakey and cold. So I waited a moment and it kept getting worse so I sat down and propped myself in the corner of my cabinets to try and help. Drank my chocolate milk and tried to wait it out. I've had low blood sugar act like that before- cold, shakey, grey vision, weak, etc - cuz I've kind of always been really bad at making sure I eat meals and last night i had just been eating chips, crackers, and chocolate pretzels all night. Snjcjsbjdks. I've been snackless for a few days so I NEEDED snack overload.

Anyway it kept getting worse over the minute or two to the point my vision was like white and black tv static with tunnel vision. my head felt super pressurized and I couldn't hear? I've had tinnitus since I was a tiny child but it really felt like those movies when everything is muffled and all you can hear is a very tiny faint high pitch ring. I could barely hear my tinnitus which was ... Deafeningly silent and that's WEIRD. I've never heard... Nothing? So that was scary. My whole body felt sweaty and hot and I just didn't know really what to do.

I think it was low blood sugar but + weed made me have a panic attack? Maybe? Or really bad low blood sugar. Because I HAVE been having light headed episodes and feeling weak lately... Which I chocked up to vitamin deficiencies (B12, D, or iron are problems of the past so I started taking those every day for the past week or so.)

Kind of super mad doctor I saw last week insisted I don't need blood work and to just take my new meds, cuz there's definitely something going on here and while blood work probably wouldn't have stopped last night's episode from happening, at the very least I could be a step closer today than i am. :(

Uhm... Yeah anyway it was really scary and I was on the floor in the kitchen with just Frankie watching me for a hot maybe 2-5minutes... Hard to tell how long. Not a super long time but more than just like 1-2 minutes. Felt better. Tried to get up and finish sandwich making. Got grey and weak again. Sat down some more. EVENTUALLY my vision and hearing went back to normal. Finished my sandwich weakly and packed the stuff away sloppily and had to turn the hallway light on cuz I couldn't see in the dark at all. Went to my bed and ate my sandwich and still felt fucked but eventually went right back to normal.

I do still feel airy headed and not totally alert but that's been kinda how it's been this past few weeks.

So uh... Mmm. Don't like that at all. Phone on me all the time now. Doctor visit again soon for this issue specifically. Partner suggested it sounded like a panic attack or when they get a vasovagal response to needles and nearly pass out. I definitely got scared and panicked cuz it was awful and scary and felt like I was dying. I did some 5seconds in 5 seconds out breathing exercises and it helped quite a bit to calm and focus me in the moment. Which was neat! They ain't lying about those exercises even if you don't know what you're doing. Focus on the counting and the breathing in and out softly.

Uhm.... So yeah if anyone actually genuinely has a comment or experience with that I'd love to hear. Otherwise I'm okay so far today and keeping an eye on it...

Problem also is I don't... Well, I have agoraphobia basically and it's very hard for me to go to a doctor without help from a friend or my partner and I can't figure out any online telehealth things in Ontario that don't cost money or aren't just for prescription renewals so uh not sure what to really do. I know I need to get it looked into but my GOD you know how fear will make you not care for yourself? Gestures. I'm trying so hard not to jump to the conclusion that it might be pre diabetes because my family has no history thankfully but the signs arent looking good..

[thedevilsdom]

making 5000 year old virgin levi cum in his pants is SUCH a mood. a concept even. sitting on his lap and “accidentally” grinding down against him... acting all shocked and surprised when he cums and starts crying and apologizing, then casually reaching into his boxers and running your fingers through his cum and shushing him by making him clean them up... or just cooing about how much of a messy little boy he is and teasingly stroking him and overstimulating him until he’s huffing and trying to muffle his moans into your shoulder... OR not even responding at all and ending the night as if you never noticed, and he can’t help but get himself off later to the shame and humiliation and desire for u he’s left sitting alone with... so many options

ok here we fuckin go

- Leviathan/Female Reader, ~3k words, Possibly going to be continued as a multi-chap fic

Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Leviathan’s desire to show someone his interests overruled his nervousness and embarrassment every time. He couldn’t find it in himself to care about personal space or boundaries once he got you in his lap, watching as he played his game.

He’s not even really paying attention to you. You can easily tell without even looking that his eyes are flitting across the screen, tracking and locking on to whatever target he’s picked next before his fingers hurriedly press the keys on his keyboard to execute whatever super-special-mega-power-move-combo he’s got planned. Not that you’re complaining. The bright colors of the screen and the gameplay are entertaining enough, plus it’s cute to see Levi all wrapped up in his interests like this. You know that he could stand to have more people around to indulge him like you are now. It’d probably do wonders for his self esteem.

You split your time between looking at the screen, at your D.D.D, and at him. He’s dressed so casually, a graphic t-shirt and a pair of pale gray sweatpants, and a pair of Mononoke Land socks on his feet. It’s endearing how he moves underneath you, tensing up in stressful points in the match, sometimes bouncing his leg or wiggling his toes. You’re not even sure that he knows he’s doing any of it.

He wraps up his match, ending it in a close victory, but a victory nonetheless, just as he’d done in the past three matches you’d sat through. You hear him sigh and flop back against the backrest of his chair, pulling his headphones down to rest around his neck. His spreads his fingers then forms a fist a few times, stretching between matches before he queues up for another. You take the lull in activity as an opportunity, your hand reaching down and stroking the outside of his thigh lightly, just to grab is attention, and he jumps in surprise underneath you.

“Heh, sorry,” You giggle, turning a little so that you can look back and see him, “I just wanted to say thank you for showing me this stuff, it’s pretty fun.”

You swear something short circuits in his head. His eyes are wide, you see his snake-like pupils dilate for a moment before returning to normal, his cheeks are immediately filled with red, his hands twitch uselessly above his keyboard. His eyes dart away from you, lips parting as he stutters out nonsense.

“Wh- I- Um- I- Y-You? Th-thank you- uh- you can play, if you want. I can queue you up for a quick play match and- um- you can play.” He says with a nervous shiver to his voice. You give him a bright, eager smile that stops his heart for just a second,

“Sure! I’ll see if I can do any of the stuff you can, though I dunno if I’ll be that good.” You tell him, watching as he clicks and sets up the queue for a quick play match for you. Your words only make him tense and heat up more.

“Oh, well, uh, that’s- I mean, that’s true, but I-I’m sure you’ll do fine!” He squeaks. You lean forward in the chair, getting your hands situated on the keyboard and mouse, getting ready for the game. Just as you think you might’ve figured out where to put your fingers, you suddenly feel Leviathan’s hand on yours,

“If you lift your palm up like this and curl your fingers a little, it makes it easier to press a different key, if you need to.” He explains. Marveling at the way he so easily maneuvers your hand into a better position, you realize that when he’s in the little realm of his interests, his nervousness just melts away. Though, you don’t bring it up, because you know that if you do, he’ll just be reduced to a stammering mess again. Instead, you give him a nod and a smile, getting ready for the game.

As the screen lights up with the ‘game found!’ screen, Leviathan puts his headphones over your head and leans over your shoulder to watch you play. You can tell that as you rapidly mash buttons and try your best to aim, there are several moments where he wants to backseat-game, but he bites his tongue and doesn’t criticize. As you play you alternate between being just a few inches from the screen, to leaning back against Levi’s chest, to almost standing up from the chair, all thinking that it’d give you a better aim.

Levi, on the other hand, was having a hard time controlling himself. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He’s seen this kind of scenario in so many hentai before, but he doesn’t exactly want to start taking advice from those, especially when the approval of the person he’s got a crush on is on the line. He’s just hoping that the headphones and sounds of the game are enough to hide his pathetic little whimpers as you unknowingly grind on his erect cocks. He’d never been so turned on by just a little pressure before. It’s getting harder and harder for him to think rationally, but he does know that the combination of him being in sweatpants, plus his ‘double-trouble’ issue, means that it’s going to be nearly impossible for you to not notice if he tries to shoo you out of the room.

Truth be told, you’re already well aware of the situation you’ve wound up in. You could feel something stiff pressing into your ass since the second you’d really started playing, and every little movement on your part has been intentional. You revel in every time Levi tenses up, or when his breath hitches, and in the confused floating of his hands as he tries to figure out where to put them.

When the match concludes with a draw, you let out a defeated sigh and lean back against his chest. His whole body goes rigid.

“Aww,” You huff, dropping your head back against his shoulder. “Do you wanna play? Or should I stay in control?” Your warm breath ghosts across his neck and makes him shiver. He’s struggling to keep from shifting into his demon form, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can last-

With just a little rock of your hips, you make him come undone.

He offers up a deliciously shaky gasp and his hips twitch involuntarily under your own, pushing his stiffness against your ass as sticky cum floods his boxers. You feel him shiver and shudder under you, pathetic little whines being torn from his throat, despite his attempts to keep them in. Finally, with a miserable little sob, his hips drop back down into the chair.

You don’t say a word as you stand up. Just to have his heart leap into his throat, you stay still for a second or two. He doesn’t say anything, still holding on to the hope that maybe you didn’t notice, though, that would be impossible.

His heart stops when you turn around.

Your eyes trail up and down his body. He’s pushed back into his seat, like he’d be able to disappear into it if he tried hard enough. His demon form is out, horns poking the headrest and tail flowing out through a gap in the armrest. His hands are in little fists, pulled up to his chest, and his legs are squeezed shut. Between them, at the crux, is a huge dark spot. If it weren’t for his vocal reaction, you honestly would’ve assumed he’d wet himself, based on the size of the stain alone. You glance up to his face. His eyes are wide, pupils dilated and locked onto you, and his mouth looks like he’s trying to form words, only to give up halfway through. He looks shocked and hurt.

“I’m sorry!” He chokes out just as you were about to speak. “I’m sorry I’m a gr-gross, yucky otaku who can’t-can’t control himself and I-I-I!” His eyes fill with tears, darting around the room as he panics, trying to figure out if he wants you to stay or leave.

“Shh, Levi,” You purr, leaning down over him and touching the waistband of his pants with a finger, “May I?” Eyes looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“It-I- It’s a- a… I’m not… Not normal,” He mumbles, “Down there.”

“Oh?” To his surprise, you don’t sound disgusted or repulsed, you sound intrigued.

“You- you uh, you can, if you want.” Conceding, Levi knows that he wants this, especially if his still aching tent is anything to go by.

“Yeah, but do you, Levi?” You ask, pulling your hands back for a moment, completely willing to either give him a second to think or to turn you away, but he nearly cuts you off with an energetic nod of his head,

“Yes! I-I do want it, I want you to touch me there.” He whines.

“Good boy.”

With a smile, you hook your fingers around the waistband of his pants, pulling them down first. Underneath them is a pair of black boxers, so saturated with cum that they cling to his skin. He flushes impossibly darker, but you only give him an encouraging, pleased grin. Offering a second for him to collect himself, you hold off for just a moment before you continue, slowly taking hold of his waistband and peeling the cloth from him, pulling it down his thighs.

Your eyes are glued to his body as you reveal what he meant when he said not normal. You’d say that that is one hundred percent correct. Coming from a near reptilian vertical slit is a pair of dicks, both distinctly inhuman. They’re ridged, and a dark blue at the shaft, fading into an indigo at the tips, both absolutely dripping with cum. You pause for a moment and Levi immediately starts spiraling,

“I knew you’d think it’s weird! F-forget this, just go, you don’t have to do an-nnMPH?!”

He’s shut up by you swiping up some of his cum on your fingers and pressing them past his lips. The pads of your fingers press down on his tongue, but you don’t force them any more inside, giving him the chance to pull away- which he doesn’t take. Instead, his eyes flutter shut, tongue laving across your fingers and nursing his own cum off of them.

“There’s my good boy,” You offer a docile smile. “Poor thing just couldn’t stop himself from cumming in his boxers, hm? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that you wanted this to happen.” You take your fingers back and scoop up some more cum to feed him. In the in between, he mutters,

“N-no, I didn’t want it to happen this way, but…” Levi’s voice trails off, but you can put two and two together.

“Oh? You’ve thought about me touching you like this before?” That lights a fire inside you. “You’ve thought about being my good little boy? I always did think you’d make a good boy for me, Levi.”

“Y-You thought about- about me? Like that!?” He sounds absolutely shocked, and you giggle. “Um! I’ve uh, always- always been i-into you… Since, like, forever ago…”

That’s a confession, you suppose.

“I’ve been ‘into you’ too, Levi.” You push your dripping fingers into his mouth again. “You’re so cute, and I love seeing you get so excited about the stuff you like. I just wish you weren’t so down on yourself.” The backs of your fingers on your free hand stroke up the length of his lower cock, “I’m gonna keep calling you my good boy until you realize that that’s what you are.”

He swallows around you fingers, nodding gently so as to not shake them away. Levi gives pathetic little whimpers around your digits, suckling on them until they’re clean once again. The hand not in his mouth drifts down to his cocks, gently holding them both and slowly starting to stroke them.

“A- Ah!” He squeaks, hips twitching up into your touch. He’s so responsive, with his wide eyes and little sounds, it’s adorable. “That’s! It’s- you’re t-touching my- hhahn!”

“You have such cute reactions,” You purr, “All from me just rubbing your cocks a little bit. Has anyone ever made you feel good like this before, Levi?” You don’t necessarily tell it how it is, because you’re pretty sure that if you outright asked him if he was a virgin, or if you said ‘hasn’t anyone ever jerked you off besides yourself?’ Leviathan would pass out. Luckily though, he doesn’t, and he responds with a mute shake of his head, ‘no’.

With a couple more slow strokes, he gasps, finally allowing his hands to reach out and touch you. They wrap limply around your shoulders, pulling you down and him up, as he nuzzles into your neck to hide his face. The second his heated skin makes contact with your own he shivers.

“Fuck, you’re- I can- you smell really good…” He murmurs against you, “You smell like- like you.”

“You’ve paid attention to what I smell like, Levi?” You see a very clear opportunity to tease him, and of course you take it. “Have you thought about it? Thought about stealing my clothes out of the laundry? You already admitted that you’ve thought of me touching you, there’s no point in hiding.”

“Y-You, uh, it- I- I thought about- hnnn-“ He arches his back and pushes his face further against your neck, “Thought about t-taking your- your shirts and putting them over, uh, over my body pillows,” Leviathan’s voice is an adorable little whine. His confession only makes you want to make him break more. “And I thought about…” He trails off the last part of that sentence.

“What did you think about, Levia-chan?” Hand not stopping on his cock, your voice is a low, sultry purr.

“Y-Your- your underwear… Wanted to- press it against my- ‘n sm- agh! I can’t say it!” He shakes his head, his body shivering. He’s wracked with tremors like a little puppy learning how to walk, it’s cute.

“You wanted to smell my underwear, baby?” Your other hand pets the back of his head for a moment. “What if I take them off right now and press them up against your face? Smother you with them?

He whines, high pitched and reedy. You feel soft lips press against your neck as he gently peppers it with kisses, not really sure what to do but desperate to show you how grateful he is for this. You can feel his fangs ghost over your skin, a threat that he doesn’t even make, and his tongue darting out to lap at your neck. The vibrations of his moans and the heated huffs of breath against you draw out a warm coursing of arousal down your spine.

“Just-! Just like that, your hand is so s-soft, it feels so good, don’t stop, please, don’t stop!” He babbles, interrupted by moans and quick kisses and kitten licks to your skin.

“Is my little Leviathan gonna cum all over my hands?” Deciding not to be too cruel, when he nods his head and whines, you don’t stop jerking him off. “Good, good boy. I want you to cum for me.”

His hips fuck into your hand uncontrollably, rutting and desperate as you feel his thighs quake and his lip tremble against the nape of your neck. His hands grasp blindly at your back, holding onto you as he fucks your fist. His breath hitches again and again, half said segments of words falling from his lips until you hear him go silent for just a split second-

Then he wails.

Leviathan’s voice is high and broken and needy as he finally hits his orgasm, cum spilling out between you, gushing and flooding your hand as his hips shakily thrust forward, fucking his cum into your fist. He hiccups and sobs, riding out his orgasm before slumping back into his seat, though still keeping his head nuzzled into your neck.

Only you don’t stop. Tormenting him with the pleasure filled pain of overstimulation, you keep stroking your cum slicked fist on his cocks. He gasps,

“Ah-hah?! I-I already-! I just came, why’re you- hhah!” Leviathan’s whole body trembles, hips twitching, out of his control. You hum, your movements and tone almost bored, as though you were doing anything other than getting an extremely reactive demon off. “Too much, too much! It- it h-hurts!” Tears spill down his cheeks while he sobs. “Pl-please, pleasepleaseplease-!”

“Please what, Levi?” You’re surprise that he isn’t trying to get away from you, instead mostly staying put while his hips twitch. “Do you want me to stop? All you have to do is ask.”

“Nnn-no! no, no, it’s- ghh- it’s a lot, but- fuck,” All the words he tries to get out are ruined by the tremble in his voice and the rattling of his sobs that shake his whole body. “Gonna cum again, pleeeease, can I c-cum again?”

“Take whatever you need, baby.”

That’s all the permission he needs. He falls headlong into another orgasm, crying and sobbing into your shoulder as the intense pleasure overtakes him and dots swim in his vision, more cum pouring out of his cocks and dirtying your hand.

You- ever caring and careful- let him calm down against you. Leviathan shakes and trembles, breath hitching against your shoulder as hot tears roll down his flushed cheeks.

“You okay, baby boy?” You say, keeping any teasing out of your voice. He mumbles out a little response and nods shyly against you. “Good, take all the time you need, that was really intense.”

With a few deep breaths, he calms down enough to pull away, wiping at his face with the sleeves of his jacket. Just when he thought he might be able to face you, his eyes drift down and he spots the flood of cum that he’d produced.

“You did so good for me,” You lean forward and press your cum soaked fingers to his lips again, letting him suckle on them, giving him something to do.

“I didn’t do anything.” He mumbles.

“Of course you did,” Your fingers press down gently on his tongue, admonishing him, “You and your body are both so honest with me, thank you for letting me play with you, Levi.” He just sighs around your fingers.

You stay in his room for a little while afterwards, resuming your hanging out as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened, once you’d both gotten cleaned up. Watching anime and playing video games until it was late in the night, and only then did you bid Levi goodnight and head off to your own room, wondering how this night was going to affect things between the two of you.

[kirschteinsj]

Pinky Promises

Nanami x fem! reader

Warnings: nothing too much! maybe language but overall just a bunch of fluff and lovey dovey stuff 

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Domestic Nanami and reader, just thinking about how much they love each other. sappy and cute stuff.

A/N: Hi! ^_^ Second time posting, I’ve had this one shot saved for a bit now! finally posting it lolz. I've noticed a lot of people have written domestic Nanami pics or drawn art, very glad society as a whole has this perception of him. it truly heals the soul I think. anyway, I hope u like this and sorry if there’s any grammar errors I wasnt able to catch U_U im thinking of doing a hc post next.... unsure hm, we’ll see ^_^!!

“I’m hooooome.” He says loudly as he steps through the apartment door, setting his briefcase down and taking off his beige coat. Putting down the grand kitchen knife she was using to chop up spinach, she rushed to the door with a smile and engulfed the tall blonde into a tight hug, saying hello. She took a deep breath, inhaling the soft scent of his cologne, the smell of something sour and musty soon taking over. Her face scrunched up and she let out a giggle.

“Oh god, Nanami, you stink, what did you go against today?”

“Nothing too bad. Just a grade 3,” He sighed “A smelly grade 3.” He sounded disappointed, probably because he knew he stunk too. Though the smell was horrendous, she still remained in his arms and he still held on just as tight.

“Are you tired? I was thinking of making dinner with you tonight but if you’re too tired I can-”

“No no. I’m fine. Just let me wash up and I’ll help out.”

“You sure?” She asked looking up towards him, questioning once more to reassure. He looked down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m sure, dear.”

While he showers upstairs, she gets back to readying the ingredients so they could begin cooking their masterpiece as soon as possible. Tonight she had chosen chicken alfredo with a tossed salad; One could say it was her favourite, but saying that would imply that she would eat it when cooked and served by whomever. But to her, she would only eat it when it was him who had made it for her.

Y/n adored him. He adored her. To her, he was her light. She could simply not imagine life without him, not after he had come in and changed her in such a way. She never in a million years would have thought to be so in love with someone. To have known someone who cared enough to hear all about her day or listen to all her tangents, whether they made sense or not. Who listened to her talk forever about anything just so he could see the faint glow of passion in her eyes. Someone who remembered the small details in regards to the things she loved and the things she despised; Like how she hated the feeling of peanut butter on her fingers and how she absolutely admired the scent of fresh pages in a new book. Sometimes, she felt undeserving of him.

He admired her like no other. Never did he believe he’d be capable of opening up to anyone in such a way, at least not until she walked into his life. He could write a million lists, all full of everything he loved about her. The way she smiled cheekily at him after a witty remark, how she'd give every hug as if it was the last, the way she was oh so patient with him. It took him time to become vulnerable in the slightest, he just didn’t know how to do so without burdening her. She knew his job was hard, he’d told her. But rather than running away like he expected, she stayed with him right by his side. She refused to leave him over that. If anything, it made her want to stay more since she felt the need to be there for him. It felt like a punch to the gut but a good one. “So, is this love?” He had asked himself then. Nanami had someone who brought out the much more joyful side to him. At the end of the day, he knew he’d walk through the front door only to see her, arms wide open and with a big smile offering a cozy hug. She was his home. Sometimes, he felt undeserving of her.

Putting the final piece of broccoli into the container, she tidies any clutter and went back to their shared bedroom. Sinking into the bed and falling on it with a plush thump, she lets out a deep sigh mixed with some sort of a groan. She herself was exhausted from work too to say the least. She didn’t deal with curses or anything like that, but she did teach a class of 9 year olds which one could consider just as frustrating. Yawning, she checks her phone to read the time: 6:15 PM. Nanami hadn’t been in the shower for too long, a small nap wouldn’t hurt. Quickly, she settled for a little 30 minute nap. That way, she could get up soon enough to help him out in the kitchen and not abandon him to do everything on his own. She turns her phone off and slowly, her eyes shut.

…

Y/n slowly opens her eyes and notices a grey throw blanket placed on her, something that she doesn’t recall going to bed with earlier. “Must’ve been Nanami.” Grabbing her phone, she turns the screen on, wincing at the incredible blue light piercing into her skull. “Fuck.” she mumbles. Once her eyes adjust, she glances back at the screen for the time: 7:30.

“FUCK,” she says, voice croaking “I overslept.” With the speed of light, she leaves bed and runs down the hall to the bathroom to freshen up. She soon makes her way over to the kitchen silently, slightly ashamed and guilty. Y/n mumbles a whine with a frown, “He’s probably done making things now. I could have helped.”

The kitchen is filled with the delicate scents of sauces, cheese and herbs. She watches him from the door frame, admiring her boyfriend. He stood in front of the stove mixing at the sauce for the alfredo, which scent alone made her mouth water. Nanami seems to be in his own world, as he stands humming to himself softly, stirring the pot of sauce and adding in the broccoli and spinach, not seeming to notice y/n. With a final stir, he carefully sets the lid and turns to rinse his hands. Her gaze sits upon his figure, how his grey oversized shirt slightly clings to his shoulders and loosens as it goes down his body. Looking down, she noticed the bright red christmas pyjamas he had on, the ones with adorable little reindeers all over them. Grinning, she remembers how she had bought those for him. She purchased a matching set for the two of them and insisted on wearing them all day on Christmas last year. Nanami had responded to the idea with a stern “No” which left y/n in shambles. She didn’t expect him to agree, but hey, a girl can dream. However, on Christmas day, lo and behold, she had woken up to find Nanami sitting on the couch, watching the news with his reindeer PJs on. Immediately, she had attacked him with hugs and kisses and all Nanami did was sit there and accept them, secretly loving it the whole time.

A deep voice throws her out of her thoughts. “You know, it’s rude to stare, right?”

Y/n chuckles quietly and makes her way over, wrapping her arms around him from behind, snuggling into his back.

“I like to stare at you, you’re cute,” she breathes in his scent once again, “ah, you smell so much better now. Like the nami I know.”

“I am not cute. I am a grown man.”

“C’mon, you can’t possibly be saying that right now. Not while you’re wearing these pants.” She coos, gently patting his butt. He goes silent, refusing to rebuttal knowing that he’s lost. He leans against the counter, his front facing her. Though he didn’t say anything, y/n sees this as an open invite to his arms. The rope of his arms finds her waist this time, her arms in an embrace around his neck.

“Whatever, tell me, how was your day, hm?” He posed, changing the subject.

“Same old, yenno. The kids and I had a discussion today about drugs and safety. It was cute, hearing them rat out their neighbours for smoking cigs and talk about how yucky they thought alcohol is. It was… sweet. How was work for you, hon?”

“Shit.” He retorts, closing his eyes, “Work is shit.”

“Oh come ON, I’m sure it’s not always that bad, right? Say, how’s your friend doing, you know, the one who kinda looks like one of my makeup brushes! Isn’t he good company?”

“Yeah, if good company means having to deal with a nuisance to society on a daily basis then by all means, yes, Gojo is wonderful company.” He joked, loosening his grip on her and making his way over to the stove to check on his sauce. She follows, opening the first drawer and pulling out a silver spoon, “You’re so mean sometimes. I think he’s a great guy to be around! I met him once, such a flirt.”

He teases calmly, “If you love him so much, why don’t you get with him?”

Taking her spoon, she lowers it into the pot and brings it back up to her face, blowing on it carefully before she puts it to her lips to taste. “Hmm, I would. But I don’t think he’s as big as you. I’ll have to pass.” She smirked, putting the spoon into her mouth as he watched and sighed in disappointment.

He glares,“God, you’re something else.”

“I’m just kidding, babe.” Bringing her spoon down for another taste. He swats at her hand and she retreats it with a whine. “Don’t do that. You’ve tried it already, and will again when we get to eat.” He scolded tenderly, “Plus, you shouldn’t be given these privileges anyway. It’s not like you helped out or anything.” He smiled, teasing her.

“Nanamiiii, I’m sorry,” she whines, half laughing, “I promise, I was going to help! I just got a little bit sleepy and sort of lost track of time…” He turned over to her and lifted her face with a finger under her chin. Laughing, he delicately caresses her cheek, tapping it admirably with a curled finger. The blonde chuckles and looks her in the eyes, “I’m just joking with you, love. I know you’ve been tired lately, I can tell. Why haven’t you been resting?”

Her smile falls and she sighs. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist and brought him into her, hiding her face into his chest. It was true, she was exhausted but she didn’t deem it to be anything so serious. Work was just heavy this past week from having to grade her students’ work in time for report cards. All she wanted was the best for her kids and was finding ways to get the kids out of their comfort zones enough to do well in class. That reminded her, Nanami also mentioned having a student of his own.

She takes her face out of his chest and glances upwards. “It’s just this week of work, I promise I’ll be back to normal soon. I’ve just been busy with lesson plans and activities, yenno. Anyway, speaking of students, how’s the one you’ve been assigned to?” She posed in a soft tone. Half smiling, he turned around to add the strained pasta to the sauce, scattering it into the pot.

“He’s special. Quite lively. And cheerful. He reminds me of you sometimes,” his voice strains as he stretches to grab the bowl of cooked chicken to finally add into the pot, finishing the meal, “He’s got potential.” Y/n beamed with happiness. Nanami really seemed to like this kid and if he thought you had potential, then it sure as hell meant you had it.

She lets out a squeal, “EEEEEEK!!! That sounds amazing! I’m so happy for you!” Nanami suppressed a laugh and rolled his eyes, “It’s not that-”

“This calls for a drink, don’t you think?” She babbled with excitement, “We should have some wine! Right?”

Grabbing her wrist as she skipped her way over to the bottle, he reminded her, “You have school tomorrow. You always end up having more than needed and struggle to wake up in the morning.” Y/n frowned at his words, to which he noticed and tried to fix, “Tomorrow’s Friday, you can drink plenty tomorrow, hm? I’ll drink with you.”

“Ugh, fine. You’re right. But you have to promise.”

“I promise you ca-”

“No! You have to pinky-promise.” She demanded, pouting as he stuck out her pinky finger.

His heart skips a beat. Was she always this cute? Her angelic eyes stare into his tired ones. Bottom lip poking out, awaiting Nanami’s pinky to interlock with her own. He knew she took pinky-promises very seriously despite her grown age. It was among one of the many petty details that he cherished. Something about this pinky-promise was enough for her to ensure trust onto someone, it made him laugh. Her naivety is what made her so kind hearted, what allowed her to see the best in people. He felt that this naivety is why they’re together to begin with. He didn’t ever think she’d give him a chance. He reminisced of their first few encounters. The way she did her hair back then, the way she dressed, her shy smile and how she’d look at the floor whenever she’d blush. Maybe it was her timid nature that made him fall head over heels for her. Or maybe it was her generosity. Perhaps her beauty. He was unable to simply confine the reasoning for his infatuation with just a few traits. She grew overtime, more comfortable and less shy, she was more confident around him but he knew he could still make her blush so badly that she’d have to hide her face from him. He enjoyed their banter, her company. He felt it was luck. Or maybe it was fate. Who knows. He didn’t want to think so much about it. He wanted to live in the moment, adore her in this present time. In that instance, he felt the strong urge to kiss her. And so he did.

The kiss was short and sweet, yet full of an unfathomable amount of love. It took her aback, she didn’t quite see it coming. She too stood in the present moment, then and there, cherishing the man she loved.

His lips leave hers and he extends the smallest finger on his hand, declaring, “I pinky-promise.” And a ginormous grin washes over her face. In a whisper, she squeals and scoops her arms around his torso, resting her head onto his chest. They stay like this for a while, not too long really, but to them it felt like an eternity being in each other’s affectionate embrace. He goes to speak and she feels the vibrating boom of his voice make his way up from his chest.

“I love you.”

She sighs, “I love you too.”

Turning her head, y/n smoothly gets on her tip toes and clasps her arms around his neck, giving it a tender kiss and attempting to make a trail leading up to his sharp jaw. Catching onto her tactics he laughs, putting his big hand against her face and pushing her back.

“Seriously?” He chuckles, “You couldn’t wait till after dinner? Come on, take out the plates.”

“Wait for what? I was just kissing you! You’re so dramatic, Nami.” She lies, playing innocent. She knew damn well what she was trying to do. She wasn’t going to admit to it though. Taking out the plates and utensils, she readied the table.

…

After dinner and meaningless conversation, the two lovers tidied and headed towards their room. “Do yo wana wah a mohee tomowwow nie?” Y/n proposed from the bathroom as she brushed her teeth. He perks his head up, confused, “Do I want to what?” She spat into the sink and rinsed her mouth, repeating her question.

“I said, do you wanna watch a movie tomorrow night? Like at home? There’s this documentary I saw on Netflix, it looks really good! It’s crime related.”

“That sounds fine with me. Though, that’s only possible if you don’t end up drinking too much. I always have to get you to sleep early when you drink.” He states nonchalantly, nose poked into a thick book. She rolls her eyes and smiles, “I promise I won’t drink all that much.” Shifting his book to the opposing hand, Nanami silently takes his pinky finger and holds it out to y/n. She snickers and reciprocates.

“You’ve now pinky-promised. Don’t break it, y/n.”

“I never do.”

The nightstand lamp illuminates the room with a soft yellow glow. Shadows of objects on the nightstand hang on the walls. Laying in bed on her phone, y/n turns over to Nanami, who was still reading his book. “Nami, come lay next to me, I wanna cuddle. Please?” Her voice faint. He looks down at her and puts his book away immediately. He could use a cuddle too. Bringing himself down, he lays on his back, y/n closing the gap between the two. Their legs intertwine, her arm and head resting on his chest while one of his hands rested on her bum, the other dotingly playing with her hair. Neither of them spoke a word for a while. Until y/n broke the silence.

“So, were there no other pairs of pants you had left to wear or-”

“Please, be quiet.”

[raunchyom]

Vices, Not Virtues: Kindness

[ Chapter 3 ]

[ Previous ] [ Next ]

A/N: Surprise! Wasn’t planning to have this out on Levi’s birthday, but also wasn’t planning that hiatus. School, amirite? On the plus side, I’ll officially be free by May 1, at which point I can start updating this (semi-) regularly again, so look forward to it! Tagging: @devintrinidad // @dweeb-central

word count: 2.7k || warnings: n/a

Listening to Leviathan rant was pretty much something that came with the territory of being his friend.

Whether about anime, his brothers, video games, anime, school, socializing, normies… oh, and don’t forget anime. There was always something on his mind, and his severely limited social circle meant you were often the recipient of his rants. Today in particular, it spanned a lot of different topics. Your recent absence hadn’t gone unnoticed, and the way he was going on made it seem like he’d bottled up every single emotion over the past few days and shoved them into a box labelled ‘re-open for Mc.’ 

Not that you loved him any less for it, of course. Poor Levi really couldn’t catch a break, and he was so excited to have someone like you who really cared about him-- well, who could blame him for wanting to open up?

Over the past week in particular, he’d been subjected to the usual trauma around the house. Apparently, he’d had Asmo and Satan gang up on him about never leaving the house, even the bookworm agreeing that Levi was too far gone. Mammon had ‘borrowed’ something of his, only for it to never return. Levi knew it was a bad idea every time, but he was too easily won over by promises of his investments being worth it. The last Akuzon delivery was supposed to be a limited edition maid-cafe-style Ruri-chan figurine, that smelled like her bean-cake best friend Azuki-tan-- which, of course, meant that Beel took a bite out of the package before Levi could get there to stop him. Lucifer had lectured him about grades, saying that he knew Levi could do better, if only he stopped playing video games so much-- “as if that’s a compliment!” 

Levi finally stopped pacing, rolling his eyes at the mere memory of it. He glanced down to where you sat, perched on the side of his tub. 

It wasn’t the most comfortable seat in the house, but his room wasn’t exactly made for visitors; you had to make do when you were there for a rant. He’d generally start talking while playing a video game, then gradually pause it, turn around, and eventually stand up and act out his frustrations. It was better for you to just start off seated on the side of his tub, that way he would have an aquarium backdrop for when he inevitably paced in front of you. It gave you a nicer view from the start, and when he wanted to sit again, he could choose to pull up his gaming chair or, if he was feeling particularly bold, sit down next to you.

As if he heard your thoughts, Levi plopped down next to you with a frustrated sigh. “Ugh, they totally don’t deserve to have you helping them all the time.” He grumbled, almost as if talking to himself. “I mean, I don’t either. I don’t know why you spend so much time around some gross otaku. And listen to all my problems, and--”

“Levi, it’s fine.” You assured him, “I don’t mind; we’re friends.” 

Levi glanced at you from the corner of his eye, as if he didn’t believe you. He shifted his gaze back to the fish tank in front of him and continued, “Still, I know I’m always venting to you, and…” 

The lack of eye contact didn’t prevent him from seizing up in your presence. You could practically see the buffering symbol in his brain, mouth wavering as he tried to force the words out. His face was getting red just from knowing your eyes were on him, somehow feeling as if every moment you waited politely for him to continue was a moment of pure torture.

“You don’t ever talk to me.” He mumbled. The words slurred together, as if he could barely convince himself to enunciate the syllables. He fumbled with the cord of his headphones and his stare shifted to the floor. Even eye contact with the fish must’ve been too much.

“We talk all the time.” You sounded much less sure than you felt, probably more out of hurt than anything. Did your friendship not mean as much as you thought it did? 

“That’s not what I--!” Levi frowned harder, tugging more incessantly at his headphones. He huffed out a frustrated breath, knowing what he wanted to say but not how to say it. “You do talk to me, but… you listen to me a lot more…” 

“So… you want me to talk more?” Levi was usually pretty easy to read. Sure, he didn’t say his emotions outright, but they were often written all over his face. In times like this though, when he was stuttering and refusing to make eye contact even more than normal, he wasn’t quite as transparent.

“No! Well, I mean, yes, but not-- I meant-- why don’t you ever ask?” Levi finally blurted out, surprising you both. “...for help? Why don’t you ever ask for help?”

“Uh… what?” Well, this was out of nowhere. You were supposed to be listening to his problems, but now he was upset that you hadn’t brought up yours? Was there some part of his rant that you were supposed to cut into with your own? 

“I notice, around the house, and RAD, and-- and everywhere. You never let people help you with things. You never ask for it yourself, even when you need it.” After a second, his eyes widened. “Not-- Not that I watch you! I-It’s nothing weird like that! I-I’m gross, and an otaku, and-- b-but-- I don’t st-stalk you or anything!” 

It was funny, watching Levi dig his own grave deeper. On the one hand, it was amusing to hear Levi desperately try to explain away any potential misinterpretation, but it was mixed with a fair amount of confusion about what his point was supposed to be. Your face must have portrayed this in some way, or at least one of these two emotions, because a cursory glance from Levi had him forcing himself back on track before he could say anything worse.

“I mean, I get why you don’t want my help. I-I’m just some yucky otaku, who’s anti-social and um, probably couldn’t help with anything anyway.” Levi was really good at kicking himself while he was down. Given, he always seemed to be down, and he always seemed to be kicking himself.

“Levi, that’s not why...” The words fell away halfway through your sentence, having caught yourself before admitting to anything. 

“So why?” You may have caught yourself before admitting anything too damning, but Levi caught it too. He was dense, not an idiot. “No, you don’t have to tell me. I mean, there’s a lot of other reasons you might not ask for help, too. Maybe you don’t want to feel weak, or admit that you need help from other people. Or maybe it’s because it’s hard to ask someone for something, when you’re already annoying them just by being around them. Or…  that last one is probably just me.”

“You’re not annoy--”

“It’s not about that!” Levi cut you off, determined to make his point. “The point is, you can’t do everything by yourself. Even Henry has the seven lords to help him. And Ruri-chan has her friends. In fact, her friends are what make her so--”

Levi took a deep breath, for once stopping his own tirade about anime. “Can you just… tell me why, at least?”

Song references aside, it wasn’t an easy question to answer, even if you wanted to. Levi didn’t often ask for this kind of thing though, which made it hard to turn him down. “It’s a lot of things, like you said. I just want to show that I can. Do things on my own, I mean.”

Levi frowned, unsure how to combat you. He already wasn’t exactly a pro on asking people for help, he holed up in his room too much for that. He had been, so far, basing it off the rare times he left his room. But now you were mentioning something that he could relate to on some level, except… “You… want to prove yourself?”

“I guess.” Not how you’d phrase it, necessarily, but not entirely inaccurate. Or really, it was oversimplifying the issue by a long shot, but it was better to give Levi half credit rather than no credit. His self esteem could certainly use it.

“But why!? You’re-- you’re so cool! You made a pact with every demon in the House of Lamentation! You could make a pact with Diavolo if you tried! You taught Satan to control his anger, you got Asmo to care about someone other than himself, you stood up to Lucifer when he was going to kill Beel and Luke-- and you, too!--, you got Belphie to get along with everyone again, you even died and--” It could’ve been that he realized what he was saying, or it could’ve been that he saw your face when he brought it up; either way, Levi clamped his mouth shut mid-sentence.

“I-I mean, not everyone gets to respawn.” He mumbled, hoping a video game reference would make it less awkward again. After a moment of silence, he reiterated his original point. “You don’t need to prove yourself. You already have.” 

It was heartwarming, hearing Levi sing your praises as he did. But that wasn’t exactly a quick fix for the fact that asking for help meant admitting you were bad at something. Or even just admitting to needing help at all. Lucifer said he had to teach you some pride, well here was a lesson you could skip. This one you knew well: don’t want to swallow your pride and ask for help? Easy, just don’t ever ask!

Levi seemed antsy to fill the silence, but managed to hit the nail on the head when he spoke again. “I know how it feels, when you see someone that’s better than you at something. It’s frustrating. And painful. Especially if you’re supposed to be the best, and then someone else knows more than you do, about a book series that they just read for the first time, and then spoil stuff about the one that hasn’t even been released yet, even though you’re the number one TSL fan and they shouldn’t even have that informa--”

“That was one time!” You protested. Levi let out a puff of air that was somewhere in between a scoff and a snort, but he didn’t seem to be legitimately angry. Then again, leave it to Levi to hold a grudge from the early days of the exchange program.

“Sometimes though, you can use that jealousy. Being jealous of someone can drive you to get better at things, or to learn from them. Or just ask them for help, if you have to. I’m never gonna work out like Beel, so if I need help lifting something I’ll just ask him for help doing it.” He deliberately didn’t mention his past experiences in asking for Beel’s help in getting fit, hoping you didn’t know about the devilgram posts Asmo made about it. You did, but decided to let it go. After a moment of consideration, he added, “I usually have to pay him with food, though.

“We may not always get along, but at least my brothers and I know how to depend on each other. Lucifer may act-- well, be annoyed a lot, but there’s a reason everyone goes to him for help. He helps the people he cares about… even if it comes with a lecture. Everyone knows to go to Satan if they need information, or help studying. Asmo’s so good with fashion that he works with Majolish, and still--” Levi’s chest puffed out a bit as he spoke-- “he comes to me for help in design too, since he knows I’m the best at cosplays.”

“That almost sounded like you were complimenting yourself.” Levi deflated a bit at your teasing tone, both embarrassed and a bit self-conscious. You felt some guilt about the latter, but none from the former. Not when his embarrassment meant his face scrunched up like that, and he floundered to go back on his own claims.

“W-Well, I didn’t mean-- of course I’m good at otaku stuff! A normie wouldn’t understand!” He floundered, clearly at a loss for what to say if he was falling back on calling you a normie. That was pretty much his version of sticking his tongue out when he lost.

“It’s hard to imagine Mammon ever gets asked for help.” You offered, trying to get him back on track. ...and maybe continue to push his buttons just a tad.

“That idiot--” Levi took a deep breath, gritting his teeth as he sought a way to talk about Mammon without including some form of insult, “He gets into trouble all the time, obviously. He’s a moron because of the kind of trouble he gets into, not because he asks for help. At least he knows to come to us for help when he needs it.”

At that, Levi gave you a pointed look. Well, consider that the last time you ever try to help him get back on track.

“Mc, none of us will think less of you. People usually consider it an ego-boost if someone comes to them for help. Especially if it’s y--” Levi fumbled, quick to brush past his near-slip. “If anything, we want to help. If you asked for help with your work and school and things, you’d have more time to yourself; for watching anime and playing games.” 

Levi tried to make it sound like he was being benevolent, but the implied ‘with me’ was hard to miss.

“So, you could try asking for help some more, to lighten your load. If you want. It would make me--  um, make u-us feel better, too.” He seemed content in ending it there, and made an effort to end any potential continuation of the topic. Flipping on a dime, Levi was quick to talk over any potential response. “Th-That’s all, anyways!  Uh, we can just-- go back to, you know. Playing devilcart, or um, we can watch some anime, or--”

“Thank you, Levi.” You had to put a hand on his arm to make him listen, the simple action instantly sending the touch-starved demon into fight-or-flight mode. “I’ll try.”

He swallowed back his nerves and nodded, surprised he had managed to make it through that whole talk. You were too, really, as soon as you realized that this was supposed to be his intervention for you.

As much as you might loathe to admit it, his talk made sense. Or at least it had some aspects of truth to it, and perhaps you felt marginally better about asking the bros for help. Levi made it very clear how he felt about wanting to help you, the least you could do was see if the others felt the same. And hey, maybe he had a point about people wanting you to ask them for help in general, too. Who would’ve guessed it, but so far these demons seemed to know a thing or two about sinning.

---

“Is something the matter, my Lord?”

“It’s been awfully quiet the past few days. I wonder what those brothers are up to?” Boredom generally caused Diavolo’s mind to wander to the Devildom’s most notorious troublemakers, but this week especially. His fellow members of the student council had been quieter than normal, without even a yelling match in days; much less something exciting enough to warrant Diavolo’s attention. Thus leaving the prince here, sighing as he pondered their goings on.

Barbatos poured Diavolo’s tea with a knowing smile. “They have been quite busy this week.”

“Oh?”

“It seems they’re corrupting Mc.” Barbatos spoke as if it were a common occurrence. 

Diavolo chuckled. “Should we be worried?”

“Quite the opposite. They’re working together to get Mc to take better care of themself.”

“Is that so?” Lethargy had caused Diavolo to ignore his tea at first, but the new information made him forget about it altogether. Diavolo sat up straighter, excitement tugging his mouth into a smile. “Perhaps I’ll bring tomorrow’s meeting to Lucifer, and pay the house of lamentation a visit.”

“Of course, my Lord.”

[guqin-and-flute]

Holding Me Holding You [Ch. 3]

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4]

[Ao3 Link]

It takes him a cursedly long time to decide that being useless is unacceptable. Carefully, he steps around the weeping boy to retrieve his guqin from his table, settle on the bed, set it across his knees, and play. He begins with a quiet song of calming, feeding gentle power through the chords, the intention of calm and ease. His eyes are on Lan Fu’s back, watching as the stuttering sobs slow, as he rubs his eyes, wipes his nose on the carpet. Sniffs.

Xichen can still see the occasional flash of his eyelashes as he blinks--still awake. And so he continues, transitioning easily into one of the lullabies his mother had sung him, a song about the moon and a crane and loneliness. He had never been able to find it in any traveling musician’s repertoire, nor in the Lan archives. (Perhaps she had written it. She had had the time.)

Its familiarity sinks into his aching muscles and sodden mind like the memory of her warm hands, her tilted smile, the scent of the incense in the Jingshi. I know, he tries to lace into the song, as if he could speak directly to the boy’s soul instead of his young mind. This feeling you miss, I know. I’m so sorry.

She had always been able to calm them when they cried.

He watches when Lan Fu’s breathing evens as he bridges into a melancholy Gusu melody and he chances to slow his fingers and soften the plucks. When the song hangs unresolved in the middle of a phrase and the child remains unmoving, he lifts him from the floor as painstakingly careful as he can and tucks him back into his little barricade of bedclothes. Lan Fu doesn’t even twitch and something like relief trickles through him. 

Now, Xichen’s fingers buzz from the memory of song and the quiet of the night is now worming its dark tendrils into his ears. 

Alone.

Being from the Lan Clan, things like solitude and silence should be old companions, as familiar as the clear mountain air. But tonight, they simply remind him of death. The silence of wonderless snowfall. A hollow too cold to glean rest. The silencing talismans still glow from the corners of the house, therefore he is disturbing no one by breaking the rule of curfew. Though his eyes are coals burning dully in their sockets, sleep is not returning--and he would be sorrier if it didn’t hold the promise of more restless nightmares in its depths. 

And so he meditates instead. He continues to play, without design, letting his hands lead and the practice of sinking into himself is good enough to take the ragged burn off the edge of existing, flow and breath to focus on instead of inadequacy. In and out. Down and through. The tangled panic of the horrible screaming fit fades like a painting, flat, distant. Like a whetstone for his mind, a methodical sharpening--he cannot be useful if he neglects his focus. He still feels like a leaden mass of cotton wool and too tight skin that’s been given a thorough beating, but the calming of his qi is helping, however marginally. 

His fingers wander over the lullaby again, turning the ghost of his mothers voice over in his mind carefully, like cloth worn thin by handling. Breathe. Let it slip away. 

The Song of Clarity crests too brightly and so sinks into the song of laying spirits to rest, rippling out in muted twilight tones. For those I could not save. For those who cannot find rest. 

Wei Wuxian’s red rimmed eyes and awful, mirthless laugh creep into his mind’s eye, and the dark waters of the song bubble with the feeling of loss and regret, the surface darting with shadows of anger and fear and uncertainty and--

He takes a breath. Lets it go. Continues. And for him. For who he once was. For who he is to Wangji.

Perhaps it is unfair to extend such a softness to the Yiling Patriarch. A betrayal to the hundreds upon hundreds who lay dead, the hundreds more who are now bereft; parentless, childless, weeping. Alone. Xichen still holds the taint of his power as a burn in his lungs, in his wounds. Perhaps this impulse is why tragedy keeps befalling the Lan while they are under his care. But he can’t help himself. Xichen had known the boy laughing and teasing, had known him bruisingly arrogant without a shred of ill intent, had known him sunny and whole and by Wangji’s side, in his thoughts. 

For him, then. For that boy. For what he had meant. 

Gone, too, now. 

Breathe.

The memory of Wangji’s fear, etched more deeply than anything Xichen could recall on his face, the utter agony--

This aches too deeply, the heat of it tightening around his throat, and so he, too, lets that go, for now. Just for now. Breathe.  

His fingers trip over the strings on their own, formless, plucking sound from nothing. Some time ago, his eyes had closed. 

He longs for daylight and voices. Warmth. 

Warmth. 

The notes are a repetitive little rivulet. 

Gold. Hair hot from the sun. Gentle, smooth mouths. Laughter.

Da-ge. A-Yao.

That ache in him flares anew. He wants them. He wants them to hold him. He can almost feel A-Yao’s hands, soft but strong, cradling his face, smelling of jasmine and him. Breathing deep only brings sandalwood incense and the oil for his guqin strings, but even remembering loosens his chest. Breathe.

The stream of notes is tumbling slower and slower, spaces widening. They mean something….

Mingjue would take him in his arms, let him rest, let him melt onto him, warm and sturdy and familiar...he would be safe...held...loved….

The notes are words. The guqin language. I miss you. I miss you. I….

Something brushes over the back of his hand and Xichen startles upright, groggily. But it had been his own hair lowered by his dipping head. Shaking himself, he sits up straight. Incorrect posture, imperfect meditation. Selfish daydreaming. 

Start again.

When the hour to wake comes, his fingers are raw and his back and neck are knotted like a gnarled tree, but it is enough. He can rise and do this, because he must. 

Lan Fu stirs after Xichen has bathed, dressed, and set out food on the table. The calming effects of the guqin playing still seem to lay over the child and though his fingers throb, Xichen feels a distant gladness. It had not been quelling a ghost or a puppet or an imp. Just a boy. 

A boy who will apparently eat nothing but bread. “Some congee?” Xichen offers almost desperately for the fourth time this meal.

Lan Fu gnaws on one of the buns that he has in each hand, staring at him blearily with no further response. Of all the trials he has faced the past few days, this seems like it should be the most easily conquerable and yet Xichen retreats again to nurse his steaming cup. The tea is scalding and strong and he can feel it's energizing work seeping through his blood. Much needed, because Xichen is realizing that he has the tendency to slowly spiral and sink down into himself whenever he stays still too long. He needs to be afloat and alert. He downs the cup, and pours another. Lan Fu is watching him closely. Doggedly, he drains 2 more and is pouring a fourth when the child scrunches his fingers in the universally recognized ‘give me’ gesture. "Wanna?" he says through a mouth full of bun.

Xichen folds into a tired smile. "You won't like it. It’s too bitter."

This produces an insistent whine and a two handed reach, the buns falling, neglected, to his plate. "Yucky," Xichen insists, but finds himself reaching for a spare cup, into which he dribbles a negligible amount of tea before handing it to the child. “Swallow first.”

Eagerly, Lan Fu tips it into his mouth. Then screws up his face in the most comical display of dismay Xichen has ever seen and spits messily onto his plate. “Eeyurk!”

Despite himself, a laugh breaks from Xichen. “I did tell you. Yucky.”

“Yucky,” Lan Fu echoes, sticking his tongue out. He’s reaching for the buns again when Xichen is suddenly struck by a nostalgic bolt of inspiration from when Wangji had been a terribly picky eater. He presses his fingers and thumb together to form a rudimentary little head that he pokes up beside the child to use like a mouth to speak.

“Hello.”

The boy looks quickly to Xichen’s face, eyes round and mouth agape, expression clearly asking; ‘are you seeing this?’ Xichen mirrors his astonishment, eyebrows raised, as if, he too, can hardly believe it. Lan Fu returns to staring at the hand-head. 

“I’m Chatty Hand. What’s your name?”

“A-Fu.”

“Are you hungry, A-Fu?”

Immediately, chubby little hands fasten on the flat blade of Xichen’s pressed fingers, Chatty Hand’s “top jaw”, slow delight spreading across his face. “Nuh-uh.”

“I’m starving--let’s eat together! Here--” with A-Fu’s hands still attached, Chatty Hand lowers itself and pretends to munch on the congee growing cold in front of him. “Mmmm, yum. You try.”

A-Fu grins and pushes the hand back down to his bowl with enough force to drown it. Chatty Hand complies, making more exaggerated sounds of satisfaction. After this happens another 2 times instead of actual eating, Chatty Hand grabs the spoon in its ‘mouth’, scoops up a little congee, and bobs up to A-Fu’s face. “Open up!” it chirps.

Thankfully the boy does and proceeds to chew on it with his mouth wide open after it’s poured in, a fact which Xichen is both too exhausted and too willing to accept literally any victory to amend, right now. The rest of the meal follows suit, Chatty Hand feeding food bits to an incredibly entertained A-Fu. A few times, the child makes his own little imperfect pincer of his first 3 fingers and holds things up to Xichen’s mouth, which he obediently takes with proper appreciative ‘mm’ noises. 

Chatty Hand had always made Wangji smile when they were young. In some strange, sleep deprived way, it was almost nice to see it again. 

After a rather perfunctory bath that was full of far more splashing than Xichen was used to, he is dressing the boy when he looks at the door with sudden understanding and asks with excitement, “Niang?”

With difficulty, Xichen forces a small smile and ties his little shirt closed. “I’m going to take you to be with some friends. Does that sound nice? You can play.”

Thankfully, A-Fu simply nods and goes back to attempting to undo all the laces that Xichen has just fastened. 

When they finally leave, A-Fu in Xichen’s arms, they find that the day is the sort with gray, misting rain which leave parasols useless and beads in fine little droplets along A-Fu’s downy hair and face, leaving him blinking. Xichen smiles and carefully wipes his face clean with his sleeve and allows himself a wave of fond sadness at the door of the temporary house for newly orphaned Lan children. While it had been fraught and exhausting, being able to care for this little armful of life in the midst of this crisis had also been...grounding. And he is unbearably sweet. 

But every excuse was gone, now, and it’s time.

When they go inside, A-Fu is clearly unconvinced. He stands, clutching the leg of Xichen’s robes with an iron grip and staring at the handful of older women and the tumble of children under their care. (There are more than a dozen of them. The grief in Xichen’s chest tightens its grip around his heart.) A few of the caregivers beckon to A-Fu, holding out toys and Xichen nods with an encouraging smile when his serious little face turns up to him in question. It takes several minutes but, warily, he ventures over, step by uncertain, clunky toddler step to sit and becomes enraptured with a little doll one of the women holds out to him. He even smiles when a little girl rolls a ball toward him. All is going perfectly.

It’s when Xichen has given all the information he knows about A-Fu--his parentage, his peculiarities, his fondness for buns--and turns to slip out that a familiar cry shatters the scene and has him going still. 

Xichen should go. He should go out the door and continue his day. These are experienced caregivers, mothers and grandmothers--they know how to calm a fussing child. A-Fu will be happy, he will be cared for, he will be better off--

Instead, he turns, slowly. A-Fu charges straight into his shins, hands scrabbling as he wails, “No no no! No go!”

“A-Fu--”

“No! P’ease!” 

Why was that ‘please’ just as effective as a knife to the heart? It sways him sickeningly. All the other children are staring at them with huge, frightened eyes, uncertain. 

“Up! Up, p’ease! No go! Up!”  He’s bouncing on his toes, hands thrust up at Xichen desperately. His face is terror stricken, crumpling. 

It’s alright. Xichen can try to explain to him. Can at least give him a proper goodbye. He kneels as several of the women converge on them, speaking in soothing voices.

“Xiao-Fu, why don’t you--”

“Shhh, not so loud, come here, zongzhu has a lot of work to do, we can’t bother him--”

A-Fu is attempting to climb him, latching onto his neck with an almost choking grip, feet scrabbling on his chest to get better purchase and, automatically, Xichen wraps his arms around him for support. The child is shuddering, crying again. “A-Fu, why don’t you go play with your friends?” He murmurs, rubbing his back slowly.

“No. No,” he moans back, refusing to raise his face from Xichen’s neck. 

“They have toys and food and games, here.”

“Yes, look!” One of the women beams, the expression overbright on her exhausted face, and twirls a shiny something on a stick, making it flutter. 

Another slides her hands around A-Fu’s torso, gently attempting to pry him off and he lets out the most earsplitting wordless shriek into Xichen’s neck, loud enough to send shards of pain through his head and, automatically, his arms clamp back around him, halting her progress. A-Fu’s frantic noise has his own pulse up, thanks to the excess of morning tea and nausea sheers its way through him, driving up a useless wave of anxiety and helplessness and what is he doing, what is he doing--

“It’s fine,” he manages to say with startling calm. “I think he just needs time. It’s fine. I can keep him with me for now.”

“Zongzhu, we know you’re very busy, are you sure? Xiao-Fu, don’t you want to come play with your friends?”

He keeps rubbing A-Fu’s back as he stands. It makes his head spin but he smiles with what he hopes is reassurance. “He didn’t trouble me yesterday. We can try again later. It’s fine.” He distantly notes that keeps saying that.

 This is selfish, he knows. He knows the boy should be with people who know how to take care of him, who can entertain him, who can maybe bear to properly explain to him that his mother isn’t coming home. He just...can’t stand any more screaming. He wishes it was empathy but fears it's something closer to cowardice, but, in any case, it's easier. Kinder. (He hopes. It's hard to tell.) And he truly doesn't mind. The inertia of him had helped thus far. 

It’s alright. It’s what it needs to be, right now. There is nothing for it.

Once they leave to start Xichen’s duties, it becomes clear quite quickly that the previous arrangement of A-Fu slung on his back is no longer satisfactory, as A-Fu keeps crying and squirming. After some trial and error, Xichen manages to fashion a rudimentary harness out of the same sash that fastens A-Fu to his chest, facing out to take in his surroundings. He likes to hold onto Xichen’s thumbs as he walks. 

Visiting Wangji is...disheartening. He is no worse, but neither is he much better. His bedclothes are thankfully clean of blood and Xichen accepts this as the gift that it is. But he is still unconscious, still white lipped, hot skinned, and breathing unevenly. The unknown boy nestled on a smaller mattress on the floor next to him is no better. In fact, he’s crying in his sleep, tiny, weak little whimpers that tear at Xichen’s chest. So he kneels beside him, using the cloth and bowl of water left by the doctor to wipe his damp forehead. “Sad,” Lan Fu remarks, pointing at him, craning his neck around to look up at Xichen’s face. He, himself, is thankfully calm, now.

Xichen nods, pats A-Fu’s chest in acknowledgment, peels the hair wisps off of the sick boy’s sweaty neck. He wishes he knew what to call him. Wangji would know. When the child’s face and neck is cleaned of sweat and he is tucked back in, Xichen sits on Wangji’s bedside, ignoring the burning pull the position puts on his neck from A-Fu’s weight on his chest, and allows himself to stroke the hair back from his brother’s face as well.

 Perhaps Wangji would not want it--he was particular about touch. Perhaps he would resent Xichen for his part in all that has happened. 

But for now, he simply lets himself sit and methodically smooth his hair. When Wangji sleeps and that austere expression is gone from his face, Xichen can see reflections of their mother in his brows and nose. Can see echoes of what he remembered of his father in his hairline and jaw. Most of all, though, Xichen can see A-Zhan, the boy that had let Xichen care for him, once upon a time. He couldn’t miss his brother if he was right in front of him, but he could surely miss the ease with which Wangji used to lean on him. Miss what he had meant. 

He lets out a shaky breath, carefully. 

Please don’t leave me. Please. Please.

Holding the order of what must be done in his mind is a bit like grasping at water by midday and whatever clarity his meditation had brought him is quickly being dulled by the grate of exhaustion. It feels as if everything is balancing on the thin edge of a knife--the Clan’s morale, Wangji and the child’s health, the future, the next necessary step. Treacherous ground. Continuously wobbling. He is failing, again. Failing to do what is necessary simply because his mind and body refuse to cooperate. 

When he requests a stimulant from their lead doctor, there is no hesitation and, in fact, he pulls it from his inner pocket. Xichen frowns. “Please make sure that you are also taking care of yourself,” he cautions. “We cannot have you falling ill at a time like this.”

The doctor bows and raises his eyebrows, but says nothing. Xichen isn’t stupid, even as he swallows the concoction and thanks him politely. He’s aware of his own pallor and dark circles--had been confronted with them in his mirror this morning. He can feel the grinding ache behind his eyes, the very weight of his own body attempting to drag him down to simply curl up in the dirt. He is aware of the hypocrisy, here; especially when he worries so when A-Yao does the same, staying up for days until he’s strung out and shaking. Until Xichen has to beg him to come to bed or he simply physically can’t go on any longer. 

He knows it’s unhealthy. He knows it’s not ideal. But there is just...nothing else that he can do. It is a morbid balancing act he is performing and with any one component removed, he feels as if he might spiral out into some yawning void of...something. Despair? Helplessness? Madness? Simply keep moving. Simply be useful. Take the next step.

The rest can come later.

[experiencenaturetoday]

Are You Ready to Ignite Your Soy Candle Making Desire?

Soy candle making is a lot like making bath bombs. You can fully experiment with scents and colors, unleashing your creativity! Even choosing the containers for candles is a part of the fun.

And just like making bath bombs, you never know exactly how the color or scent will come out until you go through the steps of soy candle making. But, there are a few things you should consider before gathering your candle making supplies.

Why Make Natural Candles?

Basically, anytime we burn poor or cheaply made candles, chemicals can fill and linger in our home – long past blowing out the candle. Which in effect can cause the air in our homes to become fairly unhealthy.

All it all comes down to candle ingredients. You see, many store-bought candles are filled with chemicals such as carcinogens and phthalates (Farley, 2016). Never heard of phthalates? They are hormone-disrupting chemicals that are a health risk to babies, young children, men, and women (Powers, 2007). Phthalates can aggravate asthma and are linked to increased incidences of breast cancer (Stuart, 2016).

Luckily, we can leave these types of candles at the store and make our own with better candle ingredients! So, let’s get started by choosing your candle making supplies. We’ll cover it all from wax to wicks to fragrance and containers before we show how to make your first candles!

Natural Soy Candle Making Supplies:

I can attest that picking up supplies for candle making can be inconvenient. It can take what seems like half a day trying to find the supplies you want and need. So, I’m including a link where possible to order online as we talk about the soy candle making supplies you’ll need.

Candle Wax Types

Natural waxes like soy and beeswax are excellent sources for candles. In fact, you can make a half dozen soy wax candles at home in just an hours’ time all while leaving the yucky stuff out!

And what I really love about soy wax – it’s non-toxic, biodegradable, renewable, and cleans up if spilled with just warm water.

I buy my soy candle wax by the pound in flakes here. It’s really easy to measure out that way. You may also love working with a blend of the two like this natural coconut, soy, beeswax blend for candle making. Unsure of what candle wax you want to use? Start with a sample kit of candle wax types.

Paraffin wax is the most commonly used wax in candles. Unfortunately, it is a byproduct of the petroleum industry. As such paraffin wax releases toxic carcinogens including acrolein, acetaldehyde, and formaldehyde according to the EPA ( Knight & Levin, 2001). Therefore, I don’t recommend it.

Candle Wicks

Have you ever noticed a small wire in the center of cotton candlewick after lighting it?

Well, that wire happens to be a lead core and when burned it emits lead into the air. Yep, that’s pretty crappy, right?

But, did you know is it illegal to manufacture candles in the United States with lead-cored wicks? While that is great news, candles made overseas and sold in the U.S. can still contain lead.

With that in mind, wood wicks make a great alternative to cotton wicks. They are non-toxic, eco-friendly, and can be readily made from organic renewable resources. You’ll also need little metal clips to hold the wood wicks in a place like the ones in the photo above.

And as a bonus wood wicks add to the ambiance of a beautiful flickering flame with a soft crackling sound. It is reminiscent of a cozy night spent by the fireside. What’s not to love?

Another option is natural cotton wicks. And pre-waxed cotton wicks are the easiest to use. Just make sure you buy healthy ones like these, made without paraffin wax or other additives.

However, the downside to using cotton wicks is centering the wick. It is really tricky to center a wick. I’ve tried lots of ideas like tying wicks to pencils and bamboo skewers. But, what works best is a centering device.

You really need the wick to be held in the center during the pouring and setting process.  I got my first centering devices with this candle making kit. They have handy options to set wicks for multiple widths and they can withstand the heat of the wax.

How Do You Fragrance Non-Toxic Candles?

It’s easy to create your favorite candle scents with essential oils, natural extracts, or aromatic isolates. Let’s start with the essential oils. How much essential oil do you use to make candles?

I recommend adding half an ounce to one ounce of essential oils per one pound of wax. If you are combining a few different essential oils like lemon and rosemary make sure to split up the amount.

Another option for soy candle making is all-natural fragrance oils composed of aromatic isolates from nature and essential oils. Did you know like essential oils, this type of fragrance oil has zero additives?

Yep, compared to typical fragrance oils, they do not contain parabens and phthalates.  They can be a more affordable candle making supply than essential oils. Yet, still helpful for creating a candle without synthetic ingredients. You can even start with a sample candle making kit to find your favorite candle fragrances!

What else do you need to make candles?

Candle Containers

You truly can use a variety of options for candle containers. Take stock of your pantry for containers like mason jars. Or visit your local antique shop for teacups and other unique containers. I personally love these 4-ounce amber glass jars with lids and metal candle tins.

Sometimes I find colorful ramekins in the thrifty Spot section at Target. And when I’m feeling very creative I make lemon bowl candles as seen in the top left corner of the photo above.

Candle Pouring Pitcher

– A Must Have!

This one always seems to throw people off. What is a candle pouring pitcher? It’s a big pitcher to safely melt wax in and pour it out. Can you melt wax in a pot on the stove? Sure, but that’s pretty messy and it’s really difficult to pour the wax evenly.

A candle pouring pitcher has a spout and a handle that stays cool. Which makes pouring candles a breeze. This is the candle pouring pitcher I use, it holds up to four pounds of wax. See it in the bottom right corner of the photo above.

Soy Candle Making Tips:

I’ll be honest the first time I made candles was stressful. Worrying about burning the wax, getting the wicks in the center of each container, and adding the scents at the right temperature – is a lot to handle!  

But, you know what? They turned out great! And I was hooked from the start on soy candle making.

So, here’s a few tips to help your soy candle making be less stressful from the get-go.  And once you get the hang of it, you’ll be hooked on making candles too!

What temperature do you pour soy wax?

When making candles the temperature of the wax is one of the most important steps to achieve professional candle results. Therefore you will need a thermometer to measure the temperature often. I recently switched to a new no-touch infrared thermometer. It’s very fast, always accurate, and doesn’t require any clean-up since I don’t have to place it in the wax.

Another option is one with a clip like this, it will clip inside your candle making pitcher, keeping your hands free. If you don’t have one you could use a candy thermometer, but you may not want to make candy with it after.

Overall soy wax should be poured anywhere between 120 to 140 degrees Fahrenheit. Keep in mind, soy wax can be quite sensitive to temperature as it is a softer wax than the typical paraffin. Do not heat it above 200 degrees Fahrenheit to avoid burning and discoloration. I prefer to heat to 185 degrees Fahrenheit.

What’s the best temperature to add essential oils to soy wax?

Fragrance oils for candle making come with flashpoints listed on the labels. Essential oils do not! Which can make it difficult for figuring out what temperature to add essential oils to soy wax.

In my experience, if you add essential oils at a temperature above 125 degrees Fahrenheit the scent does not blend well. I see the best results by adding essential oils at 120 degrees Fahrenheit with a two-minute stir.

How much wax do you need for a candle?

The answer to that requires a bit of math. So get your calculator, just kidding. We’ve got this!

We’ve made candle making easy with a candle wax calculator. No matter what candle vessel you choose our candle wax calculator can tell you exactly how much candle wax you’ll need! It even takes the amount of fragrance or candle dye being added to the wax. This means you can count on a good melt pool and no wasted materials!

Just remember, when measuring soy wax flakes use a digital kitchen scale to get an exact measurement. Otherwise, you’ll be left with too much wax or not enough to fill your containers.

How to Make Candles for Beginners

Now that we covered the most asked questions about candle making and where to find candle making supplies, it’s time to make your first candles!!

To keep things as simple as possible, we’re going to start with a basic candle recipe. It’s one I’ve used time and time again with great success! This beginner candle recipe will make 4 average-sized candles.

Here’s what you’ll need:

4 amber glass 4 oz jars

1 lb soy wax flakes

4 medium wood wicks and clips

4 glue dots or wick tab stickers

candle making pitcher  

kitchen scale

infrared thermometer

1.5-ounces natural fragrance oil or more essential oils (see tips above)

Instructions to make candles:

1. Insert a wood wick into metal clips. For a louder crackling sound, double up the wood wicks. The add a glue dot to the base of the metal clip. Place it in the center base of one glass jar. Repeat for all four until you have 4 jars with wicks inserted and set aside.

2. Next, fill a large saucepan with about 2 inches of water and place it on the stove to heat. Measure 1 pound of soy wax flakes with a digital kitchen scale.

3. Pour measured wax into a candle pitcher and set it inside the large saucepan. Whisk often and heat on low heat, up to a simmer at most, until melted using the double boiler method. Heat up to 185 degrees Fahrenheit and check often with a no-touch infrared thermometer.

4. Remove from heat immediately to avoid wax from becoming too hot. Insert a candle thermometer and allow the wax to cool to 120°F to 125°F before adding essential oils or just below the flashpoint of a natural fragrance oil.

5. Once the wax has cooled to the correct temperature add fragrance and whisk for 2 minutes to thoroughly combine. Carefully pour the scented soy wax into prepared jars. Let cool 1 hour or more until the wax is hard and white before cutting wicks to an inch or so.

Wait for 3 days before burning candles for the best scent throw. Candle Science even recommends 1-2 weeks of preferred curing time, for natural waxes such as soy and coconut. Although, they agree 3 days is the minimum curing time for candles.

[liklty]

Wizard And Sorceress - Hisirdoux Casperan | Becoming: Part 3

Plot: (Y/N) (L/N), a 17-year-old girl who has long known she was a sorceress, has been roped into her cousin’s Trollhunter adventures alongside a couple of friends.

Word Count: 4609

Warning: Like, one swear word or two

A/N: Woah! This was a kind of a long chapter. I had quite a bit of trouble writing the middle part of this chapter, but I hope you guys enjoy it! 

The next morning, you were sitting on the end of the sofa that was across from where Jim still laid, your back facing the television as your legs rested on the plush seats. You'd already prepared your and Jim's lunches and had yourself ready for school. You took a quick glimpse of Jim before looking back at your phone. It was now just a matter of waiting for your cousin to wake up.

Jim awoke with a start not a moment too soon, shocking you and causing your head to snap towards him.

 “Jim!” 

“(Y/N)!”

“Hey, are you doing okay?” You asked as you put your phone on your lap and pushed your legs over the edge of the couch.

“(Y/N), you’re never going to believe this-” Jim came to a halt, surveying his surroundings, “Did you bring me here?” He asked, briefly pointing at you.

“Oh, yeah, I did. I didn’t want to leave you on the floor, so…”

“Does- does that mean you saw-!” He made a circular motion with his hands before pointing to the basement.

“The two um... um, beasts? Yeah, I saw them. Are you okay, though?” You asked as you stood up and sat down next to him, “Did they hurt you in some way?”

“I’m fine, but I’m freaking out here! Apparently, I've been chosen to be some kind of Trollhunter, and there's like, a bunch of trolls living underground or something, which I have to protect,” He stood up and began to walk around.

Huh?

He faced you, “What do I do?!”

“I- uh- why are you asking me?!” You asked, taken aback as the information began to sink into you, “I don’t know! I’ve never been in this type of situation before! Plus, I give shit advice!” 

Jim sighed and rubbed his temples. “You came down right?” He asked as he came to a halt and stared at you with absolute concern and worry. “Did they cause you any harm?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” You responded, waving a hand dismissively, “They just kind of up and left when I came ha...” 

“Okay, that's good,” The boy said with a sigh of relief. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before his eyes jerked open and he hurriedly glanced at the time, “Wait, we have school!” he said, looking at the clock. We need to get going- I haven't even made lunch yet!”

“Don't worry, I got it covered,” You said as you stood up and threw his bag at him. “I tried my best,” you said with a wary smile.

“Let's just hope it doesn't kill me.” He told you jokingly, chucklingly at the end and you joined in.

As you went to get your bag, he thanked you before the two of you headed to the garage. He was about to call Toby, but you reminded him that Toby had an orthodontist appointment today, so he probably wasn’t able to chat.

----

You and Jim went home after school and cooked a couple of burgers together. You found Jim starting at the amulet that was visible from his bag pocket as you put a meat patty on the last burger. It had a blue hue to it.

You were about to ask him what’s wrong, but he spoke up, “Hey (Y/N), follow me..” He told you as he picked up his bag and walked towards the backdoor.

“Uh- okay, but why?” You asked, trailing after him, clearly confused. 

“I want to see something,” Jim answered simply.

You did nothing besides hum and accompanied him to the backyard.

You could hear barking and then a lady crying out, “Parker! Parker, come here, bud!” 

As you stood beside him, Jim held the amulet up for you to examine. The object started to rotate clockwise rapidly, with the hands and gears trailing along. Blue letters in an unknown language appeared at the edges of the object until it began to spin clockwise rapidly. You furrowed your brows, perplexed by the current situation. It would come to a halt a few times, the letters forming into different languages each time. It came to a halt once more, this time with the letters translated into English.

“For the glory of Merlin,” Jim read aloud, “Daylight is mine to command.” 

As the fences rattled, the wind started to pick up, sending a swarm of leaves rushing past the two of you. As your eyes darted around, an uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach. Jim examined the amulet closely before seeing a blue orb emerge from it. You took a step back, stunned but awestruck.

It twirled around you before moving on to your cousin, leaving a trail of blue mist behind it that faded away slowly. Then it flew into Jim's chest and vanished, making you panic more than you already were. Suddenly, more of the same blue orbs emerged, doing the same action the previous one had done. The boy then started to float into the air, causing your eyes to widen as swirls of blue encircled him. Armor materialized and latched onto him, which appeared to be very large on him. He squeaked as he returned to the ground and the armor adjusted itself to suit him comfortably. He took a good look at himself before smiling and looked you.

“This is so freaking cool!” He shouted, jumping about gleefully before striking a superhero pose.

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed, “You look exactly like a knight!” you screamed, jumping with delight before pouting, “Where’s mine? I would look so cool and a suit of armor,” you grumbled.

Jim laughed in front of you until he saw more of the blue orbs emerge from his armor and fly towards his hand. His palm glowed, and a massive sword formed in his hand, which dropped to the ground due to its weight. The boy grunted in frustration as he attempted to lift it up but failed to do so.

Fortunately for him, the sword shrank to the ideal size for Jim to comfortably carry. You were giddy with delight as you watched your cousin wave his sword about aimlessly, which resulted in him having his sword trapped in a large rock behind him.

“Why don't we see if I'm worthy of taking the sword of the stone?” you hummed as you strolled up to the rock with a smug grin on your face.

“Okay, let's see you try,” Jim said as he stepped back, crossing his arm and smirking. He put his weight on his left leg and watched you.

You have a confident nod and tried to lift the sword out of the rock, but when it wouldn’t budge, you placed your legs on the rock, one on each slide of the weapon. Using all your muscle power, which, to be honest, wasn’t much, you attempted to try to pull it out, only to fall to the ground. You groaned and rubbed your butt.

“Better luck next time.” Jim grinned smugly, patting your head, “You couldn’t lift a vacuum even if you tried.” He jokingly said. 

you feigned a gasp, “First of all, that thing is really stuck in there good, and second of all, how dare you call me out like that! It’s not like it’s my fault I have no muscles! Excising takes a lot of time and effort that I don’t have and makes me sweat so much! I hate sweating. It makes me all icky and yucky.” You make a face vomiting noise, “I'd like to see you attempt to get it out.”

“Glady.”

As you got up and moved to the side, Jim grinned innocently at you. He walked over to the rock and attempted to remove the sword, but he, just like you, was unable to achieve this goal.

“Ha!” You said, "Why don’t you look at that! Even you won't be able to do it!”

He eventually got it out after a few attempts, only to have it get stuck in a nearby rock. You erupted in laughter.

----

When you and Jim arrived at Marlo Mueleas' dental clinic by bike, you and Jim parked near a bench and were greeted by calming music when the two of you walked into the clinic. You were about to take a seat in one of the plush chairs until you saw Jim walking over to the room where Toby was.

“Don’t go in there, he’s with a patient.” The lady behind the desk said, but Jim paid no mind to her and went in.

With a raised brow, the lady looked at you. You just apologetically smiled at her before settling into one of the seats, pulling out your phone, and shanking into the seat.

----

“It's been eight hours! I can't believe it took so long!” As Toby rubbed his cheek, Jim exclaimed, pacing around the kitchen.

You hummed in agreement, also quite shocked that his appointment took that long.

“Two molars, plus insertions and some cleanup,” Toby clarified, raising a finger for each point.

“Yeah, but it shouldn’t have taken that long.” You said, crossing your arms and placing your weight on your left leg. 

Toby just shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay, Tobes.” Jim said, grasping the boy’s shoulders before running to his bag, “You are never going to believe this.” 

"My mouth is still a little sore," Toby complained, prompting you to take out a cold box of pizza and hand it to him. It wasn't an ice pack, but you think I'll be able to do the job just as well.

“Thank you!” He thanked, placing it on his cheek. 

“Take a look at this,” Jim said, putting his amulet in front of you and Toby.

Jim locked his gaze on the object, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Do you have any aspirin?” Toby asked dully, bringing the box to his nose and inhaling deeply, “Mmmm.”

“Toby, pay attention,” you gently nudged the brunette, smiling down at him. “You won't regret it.”

He gave you a brief nod before returning his gaze to the dark-haired boy.

“For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to-” Jim exhaled.

The sound of a bell causes you to flinch and turn your head towards the source. It was just the microwave. Toby patted your back before removing a slice of pizza from the microwave. How did he sneak that in there without your knowledge...?

“Are the two of you punking me right now?” The boy asked, closing the tiny door behind him and turning to Jim.

“Okay. Wait, wait, wait, wait.” Jim closed his eyes as he was deep in thought and breathed in deeply. His amulet started to glow in his palm.

Toby gasped as his friend floated into the air, his jaw-dropping as his eyes widened, “Holy champignon!”

You giggled at Toby’s awestruck look. 

Once Jim was in the suit of armor and had his sword in hand, he dropped to his feet, “oh-ho-ho-ho!”

“Look!” you desperately pointed at your cousin as you roughly shook Toby by the shoulders, bubbling with excitement, “Look! Look! He's a knight! He’s a knight!” 

“Whaaaaaaat,” Toby gasped breathlessly, “Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh!” Toby approached his friend and examined him, exclaiming, "So cool, so cool, so cool! Dude, you know what this means, right?,” He said, pointing to the amulet he wore over Jim’s heart. “You have a sacred responsibility here!”

“That’s what they said!”

“Oh, my gosh!” Chanted Toby as he bounced over to you. He grabbed your hands and you bounced along with him chanting, “ Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh! Oh, my gosh!  Oh, my gosh! Oh, my-”

“You have to use these new powers for the benefit of all mankind,” Toby said as he bit into his pizza.  “You have to use this to kick Steve's butt!”

“Yeah!” You agreed, pumping your fists into the air.

Jim tilted his head in disbelief as he looked at Toby, “Really?” He asked, casting a quick glare at you before returning his gaze to Toby. “I just showed you a glowing sword and a suit of armor that can only be magic and that’s how you respond?”

“Seriously! It’s butt-kicking time.” 

“I agree!” You said, slinging your arm around Toby’s shoulders and placing your other hand on your hip.

“See? She agrees.” Toby nudged his head towards your direction and crossed his arms proudly, “Wait- also, who’s they?”

Jim scratched the back of his head, “Well, that’s the part that I’ve been freaking out over!”

As the three of you snapped your heads toward the back door, you were startled by the pounding. The same blue troll you saw two days ago appeared in view through the glass, waving at the three of you with a huge smile on his face.

Toby gasped, pointing at him,  “What- what the heck is that?! Don’t open the door!”

The blue troll burst through the door just as he finished speaking.

“Ha-ha! Master Jim!”

Toby screamed and ran behind Jim, dragging you behind him.

“I’m calling 911.” He whispered before shrieked again, pulling Jim close to him as he saw the larger troll from two days ago to emerge, trying to get in due to his massive size.

“No, animal control!” Toby rolled behind the counter.

“Um- Toby-”

“Oh, gosh,” He said, cutting you off, peeking over the counter, ”Oh, gosh, Oh, gosh. They talk.”

“I knew it was but a matter of time before the amulet called to us.” The four-eyed troll said to your cousin.

“‘Called’ to you?” Jim said, confused.

“Actually, no. We’ve been spying on you.” 

“Spy on you.” The big one laughed before attempting to enter again, which he did successfully this time, “Door small,” He said as he dropped to the ground, causing the floor to shake.

“Monsters, at my best friends’ house!” You heard Toby say on the phone, “I need you to send a squad!”

You sighed and took the phone away from him, murmuring an apology to the person on the other end before hanging up.

“Hey! Why did you do that!”

“They wouldn’t have believed you.”

“You told your stout little friend about us?” The blue troll said, looking quite worried.

“Um, is that a problem?” Jim asked.

“Master Jim, we trolls have gone to great lengths to keep our existence secret from your kind, lest there be panic.”

The big troll sniffed around the counter and loomed over it. Toby was picked up by the troll, but when he started screaming, the troll dropped him. Toby stumbling up to his feet, grabbing a ladle, and repeating, "Oh, my gosh." He used the ladle as a shield to protect himself against the troll.

“Like that.” The blue troll pointed. 

“It’s alright, Tobes.” Jim said walking over, “This is my best friend, Toby D.”

“He has like 800 eyes. We’re going to die.” Toby said this as he jabbed the appliance back and forth between the two trolls’ direction.

Jim pointed to you and said, “And this is my cousin, (Y/N).”

You gave a little wave and a sheepish smile, feeling guilty about what you had done to them a few days before. They seemed to be very friendly.

“Sorcerer,” The big one said, pointing at you.

You immediately turned pale. Jim and Toby turned their heads to you, their brows furrowed in bewilderment. Maybe you should have told them sooner so that you wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

“Ah yes, we already have your cousin, Master Jim,” The smaller troll said, “It’s been such a long time since I met another sorcerer. Say, do any of your parents use magic as well?” 

“Wait- wait- hold up- what. I’m so confused.” Toby stammered, looking at the blue troll,  “(Y/N) isn’t a sorcerer,” He looked back at you, “You’re not, right?”

“Ah, I see what’s going on.” The four-armed troll said apologetically, “I wasn’t aware they did not know that you have magic. Please accept my apologies.”

“Sorry.” The green troll said as well, patting your head gently.

“So, it’s true?!” Jim exclaimed in shock, “You have magic?! Why haven’t you told us?”

You despised the fact that there were so many sets of eyes on you.

“Well, um, first off, sorry about blasting you guys,” You told the two trolls, waving your hands around slightly, “I was just really scared and I, you know…” 

“Ah, don’t worry my dear, it is understandable.” 

“And, uh, yeah,” You faced the two boys, “I can use magic, yeah… It’s just, you never really asked sooo...”

“Why would we ask you something like that?” Jim questioned.

“I don’t know, man.”

“Well, regardless, that’s super cool!” Toby exclaimed, raising his arms into the air in excitement, “How long have you know? What can you exactly do with your magic? Oh-oh! Are you able to raise the dead?!”

“Uh, since I was 10 and um, I can tell you later and no, I can’t raise the dead.” You took a pause, “I think.”

“In any case, We must get back on track. I'm Blinkous Galadrigal or Blinky, as my friends call me, and this is Aaarrrgghh,” The blue troll said, shifting the conversation away from you to much to your relief, “Master Jim is the Trollhunter, as you might know, and it is his noble duty to protect us trolls from the bad trolls. There are also trolls, grotesque gnomes, and the odd rogue gnome.”

“You mean like a superhero? Oh, can I be his sidekick?” Toby, who was now sitting on the counter, said, “With a cool superhero name like Deathblade or Snipersnake?”

“The mantle of Trollhunter is a sacred responsibility. One which has never been passed to a human before. This one is a momentous occasion.” Binky said, each sentence bringing him closer to a visibly frightened Jim. 

Before stepping back, he gave Jim a wide smile. You looked over to the front of your house after hearing a car honk a couple of times in less than a second. You could see Barbara's car pulling into the driveway through the window in the front door.

“It’s Aunty!” You said, gaining everyone’s attention.

“Uhhh, upstairs quick!” Jim ordered, breaking into a sprint. 

“Aunty?” Aaarrrgghh questioned.

You and the others dashed upstairs in the nick of time, just as Barbara entered the house. You all dashed to the restroom, Jim slamming the door shut behind him.

“Jim? (Y/N)? It’s me.” Barbara called out. 

“She’s not supposed to be here until midnight!” You said, panicking. 

Aaarrrgghh inhaled deeply Toby’s sent, “Hmm… You smell like cat.” He said as he continued to sniff Toby.

“My nana has a Siamese,” Toby said, awkwardly.

“Tasty.” 

“I forgot my phone.” Jim’s mother said from the other side of the door, “Are you okay in there?”

Jim jumped, silently asking you and the others what he should do. When the others looked around, you desperately pointed to your stomach, pretending to vomit over the sink.

“Um, I’m fine. I mean, my stomach’s a little uh…”

Toby plunged a toilet bowl brush into the toilet, creating fart noises as water splashed around. 

“Uh, you know, I may have a food poisoning situation,” Jim said, waving his arms at Toby in an attempt to get him to stop.

“Honey, I’ll get you some medicine, okay? Does (Y/N) also have food poisoning? Where is she?”

“Uh, no, she doesn’t! She’s out right now at a bookstore!”

“Okay, I’ll be back.” You heard the redhead’s footsteps fade away.

“Okay, what's going on here?” Jim frowned, glancing at his flickering amulet.

“The amulet reacts to your emotional state.”Blinky responded as Toby switched off the lights, mesmerized by the blue glow, “You appear to be in some distress.”

“You think?” Jim said while Aaarrrgghh switched the light on and off. 

Toby raised his hand and said, "I have a question."

“Speak, Theodore.”

“It’s Toby, actually. Or Tobias. If Jim’s the first human Trollhunter like you said,” Toby smacked away Aaarrrgghh’s arm, leaving the room in darkness, “Then who or what was the Trollhunter before him.”

The question sparked your curiosity. 

“The glorious mantle has been passed from troll to troll for hundreds of years,” Blinky stated.

“So, the previous Trollhunter, what, retried?” Jim asked. 

“Was felled,” Aaarrrgghh responded sadly.

“Felled?” You asked.

“Means killed,” Aaarrrgghh responded. 

“Turned to stone and smashed.” Blink added, “Kanjigar the Courageous was his name. Brutally slain by a ruthless troll named Bular.”

Oh, no... As worry filled the pit of your stomach, you couldn't help but feel bad for the previous Trollhunter. Will anything similar happen to your cousin? God, you hope that wouldn’t happen.

Before turning on the lights, Toby put a comforting hand on Jim's shoulders and said, “Don’t worry, dude. This Bular guy probably just got lucky.”

Yeah, he just happened to be in the right place at the right time.

“The evidence does not suggest that. Bular is a formidable opponent.” Blinky told you three.

“Then the other guy, he was just off his game of something right?” Jim suggested. 

“Doubtful, Kanjiar was perhaps the most alert and able of all the Trollhunters.”

“But not the best, right.” You asked, hopeful. 

“Oh, the very best! Many songs and sages have been written about him.”

As a wave of fear slammed into you, you felt your heart drop. Your cousin was just 15 years old and now he has the responsibility to protect all trolls?! Jim meant a lot to you and you didn’t want him to meet the same fate as the previous Trollhunter.

Before facing Blinky, Toby cringed, glancing at Jim then at you, noting the concern and tension on your faces, “Uh, I think my friends are a little worried about this and so am I. If this-”

“Bular” Aaarrrgghh butted in, licking the toilet bush, making you shiver in disgust.

 “Yes, Bular. If he could smash Kanjiar-”

“Smashed into pieces.”

“So, what's going to happen to Jim?” Toby motioned to his friend, who was slumped against the door and on the floor.

As he leaned against you, you stood beside him, patting his head.

“A most appropriate, if troubling, query, Tom.” Toby squinted at Blinky, “Tobias! Of course, we would never expect Master Jim to engage in battle without the proper training. Not at all.”

“See!” You said cheerfully, pulling the dark-haired boy up and smiling at him, “With enough training, there’s nothing to worry about.”

“How long does the training normally take?” Toby asked. 

“Oh..” Blinky started counting with all 20 fingers, “Decades.” 

You instantly frowned.

“And... how much time do I have?” Jim asked, a little hesitantly.

“A day or two”

Jim grimaced. 

“I have medicine and ginger ale, Jim,” Barbara announced, catching you all off guard. “Please come out.”

Jim told your aunt, "I'm fine, really."

“I’m a doctor. I’m going to treat my own son.” The redhead said sternly. 

“I just need a little privacy.”

“You’re worrying me. Oh…” 

Jim's armor vanished, his previous clothes reappeared, and he pushed you all into the bathtub. Being squished between Toby and the two trolls made you feel very uneasy.

“I’m coming in.” You heard Barbara say and then you heard the door open. 

“Ooh! See? All good.” Jim chuckled as you heard him leave the room. 

“Huh… okay.” Barbara made a small noise of disgust and left as well. 

Aaarrrgghh sniffed Toby, much to the boy’s dismay.

“Stop sniffing me, giant troll dude!”

“Smell like cat.”

----

You and the boys eventually sneaked a peek as Jim's mother drove away. When you turned around, you saw Aaarrrgghh struggling to walk around because he was much too big for your home. He brushed up against the ceiling lamps and knocked a stack of books off the table.

“Your cave, too small.” He said, also knocking a stack of VHS tapes off the bookshelf by mistake.

Jim began picking up books from the floor, while Toby assisted you in cleaning up the VHS tapes.

“So, Master Jim, are you ready? We should begin your training immediately.” Blinky told the dark-haired boy. 

“Uh, it’s a school night.”

“I assure you, the relevance escapes me.”

“I’m 15! I have to stay home and, uh, study and stuff. Do homework?”

You picked out a tape and looked at it before seeing Aaarrrgghh’s eyes lit up and licked his lips. The troll started to smell it. As he placed some of the tapes onto the self, Toby cast a glance at the two of you. Aaarrrgghh opened his mouth and you tossed the tape in with hesitancy, and he happily munched on it.

“I can’t be out, you know, trollhunting.”

“Because?”

“Well, the whole ‘getting killed by a vicious troll named Bular’ might be a deal-breaker.”

“Dude! He eats VHS’s” Toby exclaimed, pointing to the large troll as you fed him another tape. 

You cautiously patted Aaarrrgghh on the head, and he sighed contentedly before blenching. Your nose scrunched up by the scent, and you giggled a little as you turn away slightly and fan out the smell. You offer him another one.

“Dealbreaker?”

“I don’t want to die!”

You furrowed your brows as you looked at Jim and Blinky.

“Goodness gracious! Who does?”

Jim's shoulders sagged and he had a defeated look on his face, “Maybe you should take this back,” He said softly as he took out the amulet and extended his arm to him. 

Blinky clasped his hands over his, pulling them back towards him, saying, “The amulet called to you, Master Jim. You were chosen by it. It is your-”

“Please, don’t say ‘destiny’.”

“Sacred obligation.”

“Or that.” Jim facepalmed.

“You cannot refuse it. You cannot give it back. It is yours until you die.”

Jim shoved the amulet in his hands, “And I would like to get a little further past puberty before that happens.”

“Master Jim, you are now responsible for the safety of the two worlds, human and troll alike,” Blinky shoved it back into his hands, "If you do not keep the balance, evil trolls such as Bular will come into yours and wreak havoc.”

“You’re saying this Bular could hurt people?” 

“Like you.” Aaarrrgghh pointed.

Blinky turned to Aaarrrgghh, “Not helping!

“What’s he talking about?

Blinky looked at Jim, “With the amulet now in your possession, Bular will seek you out and you will face him one way or another.”

“Hey,” Toby said as he stood up and walked over to Jim, “I think Jim needs some time to process everything. He’s young and you just told him he has a big responsibility to fulfill.”  He said as he wrapped his arm around him.

Blinky thought about it for a moment, “Fine, fine. We shall return tomorrow then to begin your training.”

You assisted Toby in his attempt to get Aaarrrgghh through the door in the kitchen. Once you'd done that, Blinky would follow him out. The three of you said your goodbyes to the trolls, who returned before jumping over the fence and disappearing.

“They’re pretty stealthy.” Toby asked, gently fist-bumping Jim's chest, “How’s that? I brought you a night.” Toby said, leaning against the doorframe.

“A night?” Jim asked, his brows furrowed.

“Dude, you’re the one who’s always talking about wanting an adventure and something more. Well, wish granted.” Toby went inside, “Who knew trolls were a thing? Who knew. Oh-oh! (Y/N) tell me more about your magic!”

“Of course!” you chuckled as you trailed behind Toby.

Behind you, Jim locked the door and gazed out the window.

[crackcrocs]

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #3

3. Transformation Central

the entities of my personalities would like to come together in one voice that speaks through me, we or I call this collection of words from the mustiest corners of my brain to this note page to voice something that might come close to what I feel underneath the skin I wear. In all my unorganised words- I might even go as far as to call this a poem, titled:

‘TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL’

sub characters in my head would appreciate if this could be visualised & understood through as deep a lens as humanly possible. even I confuse myself so if you can decode or relate to any of this, wonderful. If not, I’m locked in my own mind, swallowed the keys to my soul.

SIMILARITIES & INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN HUMAN & PLANT CONSCIOUSNESS EXIST! if you look closely at my nose freckles you’ll see the resemblance of the constellations above. if you look at the human veins & the layout of a tree, this is further proof.

{VISUALS THROUGH A SEPIA WINDOW STARING @ THE AUTUMN LEAFS; IMAGINING THE SEEDS UNDERNEATH, THROUGH NUMB ROOT VESSELS THAT PERMEATE THROUGH EVERY MEMBRANE OF MY EXTERNAL TO INTERNAL ENVIRONMENT}

~FEATURING THE VICIOUS CYCLE OF DEPRESSION & PERFECTIONISM.

here goes:

What is this part of my mind ?

If you want; delve inside-

I may look sweet like Alice,

but underneath it all

I deteste looking in the mirror

-cos I see the mad hatter.

my inner child needs a platter-

full of care not distortion & abuse pls.

less fibbin would’ve been a breeze.

now following the dead fish in the stream!

HOW on EARTH do I fit with the cod & the Haddock?

I’m the rainbow fish- beat & battered.

dim my own light cos I’m too afraid to shine.

alone.

thieves tried to steal my shiny scales.

I sat and watched them grow.

In the sea realm they were mean gargantuan selfish whales, with poisonous shark fangs & alligator tails. scorpion hands. (gremlins)

and still they make me feel like the alien-

I cant take it.

Make it make sense ?

I can’t.

controller in my hand-

Off balance stance.  

anxiously I move round like a wobbly jelly.

where’s the button to balance my chi & shut out the ego ?

the teLLIE telling lies to our vision!

change the channel aura terracotta orange- daily dosage of vitamin D & C.

catch me sun gazing by the sea

head buzzin like a bee.

speaking from a dusty box

stuck on top of a forbidden shelf

cos I dunno how else.

I’m tryna delve deep but forgot how to dive

How can i visualise? scenery foggy-

the establishment man with the glue gun got me xD

inner monk burning but at peace

Cos I refuse to believe

If the only way is the American dream

Interconnected; like the frog in science -let’s dissect it!

down to every floating atom spirit neighbouring your door

subcategories & divisions, it’s more!

than the rich and the poor -prism that’s been built

do we all feel like a performance monkey on stilts?

will my data be extracted & used to mould a robots personality some day?

well obviously not.

does the price of our lives all amount down to slave ways?

LABOUR YAY!

but morals & values it seems we’ve forgot.

sO If i don’t speak its cos I’m lost.

or maybe i’m enlightened-

Standing at the edge of the porch;

watching TRYING to understand how the flowers grow.

questioning eVERYTHING man made!

I’ve stepped out of the perfect picture frame

I can see the coal pollute the sky

I need to hop on the train-

but I’m comfortable

Sunset to sunrise statue standing still.

what’s the ingredients to life’s yucky pie?

I’ve exceeded mental lotteries.

Sanity n universal peace would be a trophy.

TIL then I’ll be crafting & shaping a solid pottery reality,

with a few pence, gum, and a bandana of belongings tied to stick.

thinking one day I’ll be laying the bricks

& building a kingdom of bliss.

guess for now I’ll use the intricate delicate materials in my tool box- that’s all I’ve got.

might have a long way- maybe worth a shot.

I observe, cruisin in the sky.

dunno why..

I jus look @ the hills.

Only time & history reveals.

no thanks mr men-

I don’t want your prescription pills.

there’s enough propaganda as it is.

I won’t jump on the merry go round-

til my core trusts & envisions we’ll actually feel safe!

I don’t want to take part in this faux fur, sweet nothings & a jack in a box punching blur, so called future.

oh and genuinely thanks quarantine-for once again, I can hear bird sounds!

guess this is me tryna speak out loud!!!...

it’s not thrilling

system  time killing everything-

mother nature’s oxygen

everything is nauseating

clock ticking, I better start creating.

they should write a book on how to be free when the system set us up to believe that we’re tied to the cut down trees that gives them a currency of greed that they breed.

If blindfolded, I don’t wanna eat what they feed.

Whilst they profit of us -tell us smile and the bandits don’t wanna see us happy.

they’re too busy robbing all our hoods.

In exchange for the silence, they’ve granted us with a 21’st century fashion garment of a slave muzzle! labelled conform.

More delusion to add to the already desensitised norm.

zootonic diseases, welcome covid 19 to your plastic kiddy tea party!- apologies for questioning your motive!

Been handed too many hot plates with a post it note saying HOLD THIS.

we’ll be okay just hush.

Same Shan message told to every generational seed.

If we don’t TRY overpower-

we’ll never succeed!

it’s getting even more scary.

Artificial intelligence.

Societal negligence..

my canvas isn’t clear-dunno am I schizo ?

finger painting, cos it makes more sense.

struggling to blend.

borderline conspiracist pretending to be fine;

moving the goal post, hovering above the race line.

who made the chalk? who set the lanes?

I wanna know it all, maybe¿ far past insane.

I can fit all I need in the palm of my hand,

Maybe even less! cut a finger off not sure it’ll even add stress.

hi from personality Peter, even sober- always away with the fairies.

Pass the pixie dust, I’m in a rush

Found shelter in the comfort of pan physicists timer, no not the one on your phone!

Ring ring, skeptical! is it my demon or my mommy on the phone?

I’m stuck in the airspace of an infinite glass filled with beach particles trying to form myself standing up still attempting not to slip through the hands of my very own discovery.

time is running out & ill go when I go.

I’m sitting inside the fly trap -

stardust, chakras can you feel the sensation colors like a starburst.

deep emotion is a curse.

still entrapped in the sand dune of nothingness-

flipping a domino monopoly of solidified thoughts as I sway with the wind.

I’m the trapped sandbox in the playground & the slipping sand in my own hands.

Inhale chronic but I wanna enter the quiet realm of white noise

-color of a wife beater vest, calmer than the ease in ignorance of a red neck.

sadomasochistic, messes.

but oblivion, seems like less stress.

Unfortunately I can see, with all eyes

empathetic paralysis, gets me vexed.

Punching truth into the core of your chest!

It’s not funny, neither is the one on the receiving end..

My limbs are numb

& im done playing octopus alchemy.

I want minimalism & life can be simple,

Evil entities have made it hard.

Maybe I’ve got stars above my head like an old cartoon character.

But I can’t make it make sense, are they out to get me. worse all of us? Or have I bottled myself tryna re mesh the broken shards,

I feel glued to the floor cos there’s a pretty price to pay if you want more.

I see life through a different lense, maybe born downside up, Benjamin button I came out the back door-

Outside looking in, digesting confusion.

Is to be a product of environment a sin?

rummage through my messy brain.

personalities sardine packed in this tin

I’m the wizard of my mania

Scaring & attracting the black crows-

they’re my friends.

Sometimes still a cowardly lion

Roaring pain & true riddles at the wrenching wicked witch posse of the west.

will my voice ever be loud enough to shed light wit my words and grate the sweet zest

In to the cake i’m baking?

Probably not.

Got more thoughts than the autumn leaves collected by the garden rake. alone.

gathering & storing the pains of yesterday.

sometimes I stay in line

Other times in my head Im on my hands juggling out of time.

but I really don’t mind if I lose or win.

we all have a pace

I jus don’t want the 1% to win the race.

It’s unfair!

Humanity does anyone care ??

Half lady

half fairy

Good  MOOrning-

from my anagrams.

no I’m not a cow.

twister fidget spinner brain in the flesh-

form of expression this time around lyrics.

feel I’m jus a silly rubix

& still mourning

I don’t like dairy

pass the oat milk.

Are you aware the industry are sabotaging our diets?

we want peace!

the powerful elite-

perceive & deceive

the scene they want us to be.

chuck the narcissistic psychopathic pie back in our face-

every time we almost found & addressed the Programme & Control man in the maze.

evil & extroverted- he said that the anarchists have to be the cause of riots.

working isn’t class. I said let’s switch roles- he said pass.

It’s piss! Who’s got the bomb & the guns?

Who got the land? off wit OUR heads 4 fun!

it’s pure scary.

Pharmaceutics handshake.

with the cooked up suppliers, also crooked wack liars.

I’d rather shot a gallon of bloody blubbery infused slaughter house milk

If it meant we didn’t use cocoons for silk.

why not add a drizzle of bleach to the concoction & maybe that’s a reach.

every time I guzzle fakeness, it taste peak.

I want real fruit, what next-

a seedless peach ???

what’s the difference between a weirdo & a freak?

layers & levels to the shit.

Magnifying tapping the window of society, I’ll be puffing green til I get to the land of Oz.

sponge soaked soaking up emotions

Suffocated by deduction of care in life

feel entrapped in this paradigm

what am I thinking ?

got the verbs & a cuppa tea

It’s mixed with torment & desire to be free.

I’d rather be awake than asleep

When I get too comfy I feel weak

Demons they reap

underneath

rip the seems as I bleed

Concrete

Solid

Emotions

Is all you’re getting

It’s all sad scenes in the imagery I’m setting

people need care we seem to be forgetting

why are we in debt wit

a posse of clowns

pay the price so we can get a frown

here’s some seratonin

quit ya moaning

life is all sound

aw yeh¿  if you’re not an over thinker!

product of environment- Sirius flickers

theyve done a ritual like it’s Wicca

now here’s your gold sticker..

for managing to co operate.

In this world fuelled off of evil n hate

waking ups a bloody disgrace

I am not amazed.

Man I love my fam n my friends

Just hate this part of my brain that feels the need to play pretend

sometimes I feel insane

but I’m calm

need to escape so I don’t do harm

Gold lioness in the sky by the sea

with puff the magic dragon

fire out my mouth, fuel helps me breathe

I will shine bright

Promise imma be alright

even tho I’m not sure why

I function like this

I wanna be myself

It’s just hard to find the comfortability

To feel happy and pretty

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Ring around sing about overdose emotions

Sorry dunno how to communicate

Heads in a constant debate

Should I go or should I stay

My head clashes

Burnin the next ciggy as my thoughts become ashes.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Teen!Chucky /Charles Lee Ray x Reader || Oneshot

Title: Night Time Air 

Notes:

·         Y/B/F: Your best friend

·         This was inspired by Season 5 Pretty Little Liars when Caleb and Alison are rocky and Alison tries to tell Hanna not to be with him, and she goes ahead and gets back together with him. 

·         Told you I would overuse this gif. 

·         I should be doing requestssssss

Plot: 

Chucky is the boy at your school, that is well known for all the bad things he has done. He has no respect for anyone except… maybe you… and he is unpredictable, which is exactly why your friend, your bitchy, not-really-your-friend, frenemy-that-you-only-spend-any-of-your-time-with-because-your-real-friends-like-her tries to order you not to hang out with him.

You don’t take it well.

Warnings: Language maybe? 

~~~

It takes a few seconds before I can clear my enough, and stop myself from jumping to the conclusion of what she’s trying to tell me. Demand of me. “What?”

“You shouldn’t hang out with him anymore. I mean, I know he’s pretty and everything,” With a roll of her eyeshadow heavy eyes, she tries to infer to me, that my friendship with Chucky is so skin deep. Again, I bite my tongue and stop myself from saying anything, but oh, are there things coming to mind that I wish I would say. “But he’s never been any good, since kindergarten. I’m just looking out for you, you know. You know that I love you.” Oh, sure.

My blood boils at her words, and the fake way she tilts her head and furrows her eyebrows, the  touch she manages to land on my arm before I flinch away that makes me feel disgusting. She has to be aware that we are not friends, and there is no one else around so where does she get off saying this stuff to me. Demanding something, from me like she’s got any authority. “Maybe you didn’t sense my complete disbelief the first time through your hairspray; I understand chemicals can interfere with alien sensory technology. So, let me say it again. What?”

“Woho,” She laughs, but I see under the thin, unimpressive veil of counterfeit that completes her look of total bitch, that she was not expecting a snap back like that. “Wow, Y/N. No need to get salty… “

Something about the night air has made me confident tonight, for sure. Because at school, there’s no way I’d say these things to her. I’m glad I came out tonight! “I don’t know where you think you get the authority to tell me what to do, but you’re mistaken.” Nervously, I glance past her into Y/B/F’s house to see if they were looking at us, because the last thing I need is drama with the others after this, and then stonily back at Jane. “Tell the others whatever, I’ll set it straight tomorrow. I gotta go, I happen to know where Chucky’ll be tonight.”

She narrows her eyes and looks miffed, but I’m already turning around, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket and walking off down the street. God, I’m glad I said that. Its been dying to come out since I realised I didn’t like her in the first place- it might stir some trouble in our group, but its better she knows I don’t like her then to let her keep thinking she any control in my life. Besides, I’d kinda… I’d much rather go see Chucky then stay in and play forced Monopoly with her for the rest of the night, and wake up in the morning with moustache drawn on my face.

When I get to my destination, I don’t see him but I don’t get to wonder if he just hasn’t come to the playground tonight like he brags he does every night -like some edge master on the big screen,- because he calls my name and I turn around to see him walking over from another street. “What are you doing here?” He stops in front of me on the woodchips and stuffs his hands in his trench coat pockets, grinning down at me in a way that gives me the strangest feeling that he’s glad I’m here. “Thought you’d be… Ahhh, I dunno, enjoying skimpy girl sleepover activities? See, I listen to you. Unless I got the day wrong?” I wish we could move somewhere else, maybe walk around, but he’s just standing and looking at me with his grin like I’m a weeping angel.

Instead of staying there and talking about my run in with Jane, although I’m sure he’d love to hear about it -he doesn’t like her either. One of the many things we talk about when we’re together,- , I turn and head for the swing. “Skimpy girl sleepover activities? Sounds like you put some thought into that!” I tease, sitting in a swing and pushing off. There’s something very free, about playing on a playground when its dark, and no on else is around. I suddenly get why its such a popular teenage stereotype. Not too far out of my comfort zone like most adult things that I want to do or am being pushed to try, but still new.

He laughs. “Would’ve come by and visited if I knew where your girl friend lived.” Turning my head, I watch Chucky come around and get in the other swing, but not push off.

“You would’ve been disappointed. We had intensive plans to snuggle up in our skivvy’s and raincoats and watch Singin’ In The Rain. But I would’ve made room for you!” Which is true. I would. I definitely would. I’d love to ‘accidentally’ fall over and snuggle with him. Totally would. Any day. Yes.

Watching him grin to himself at my dumb joke gives me little tummy squirms, so I take a deep breath as I swing and look away. “Oh well. Glad I get you, tonight. They always seem to win your time.”

“They’re my best friends… “I say, falling backwards and feeling my hair fly after me, on either side of my face. Then turn and grin at Chucky, curiously. “You’ve never expressed any desire to hang with me more, before.”

“Well its not like I have many friends apart from you… “He trails off, but his face doesn’t reveal any sadness or forlorn desire to change that. I know, for a fact, that he doesn’t like anyone else at our school. He has nicknames for them all! And none flattering. He turns to me sharply, causing my heart to seize in my chest. Oh my god. “Custody agreements, how would I go about winning weekends with you?”

Rolling my eyes, I look away and keeping swinging, distracting myself from him. “Mm, payment’s a bit dear,” I mutter, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough to be a mutter to myself. I wanted to reply, but I don’t want him to hear the rest of that quip. Which is ‘Its you have to kiss me’.

Seems the night air isn’t just making me confidently mean, tonight…

“I bet… “He says back, not quite to me and under his breath, the same as how I said it. Then he gets up from the swing and looks around, shifty eyed. “Let’s walk around a bit.”

He looks bored, so I slow down the swing and pop off, not noticing he moved right in front of me until I’ve hopped right into him. “Nice going, pal! Smart move!” I exclaim sarcastically, and push out of his arms and away from his face, which is grinning cheekily and laughing.

“Dunno what you’re complaining for, I’m not the only one who got to second base just then! Wanna try for first?”

“You’re very funny.” I say, forcing an irritated tone through my smiling face. Its times like these, when I thank having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. “As if.”  

“Yeahh, right. Whatever, come on.” He starts walking, scooping me up on the way, walking with his arm over my shoulders… like friends. Friends. This is friendly, I remind myself quickly. These moments, when he touches me and acts like we’re a couple, are when I curse having a crush on such a loudmouth and tease. We walk around the park, not leaving the gleam of the streetlights, but leaving the mulch of the playground for the grass surrounding it. After a while of conversation about school, and other kids in our class -never touching his father or mine, this night time playground acting as sanctuary, - , we hit a lull in the conversation, and I watch our feet wading through the luscious grass, due to excessive levels of rain recently. My fingers feel like icey poles. He hasn’t removed his arm from me the entire time we’ve been walking, though, so at least the rest of me is warm. “So, what happened to your sleepover anyway. Cancelled or did you blow them off?”

“Uh… I blew it off.” For you. Of course, I don’t utter the last words. Too much of a chicken shit to finish the deal, even feeling the night air on my cheeks.

“There’s my bad girl.”

“Hah,” Thank god, its too cold for my cheeks to heat up. I glance at his face, and do a double take. He’s waiting for the rest of the story! Uhhhhh… “Um, well, we… Jane said something annoying, you know.” Flashing him an awkward half-smile, I see he’s still waiting for the kicker and look away again, picking up his other hand and lacing my fingers through his, to distract me. “Here, warm my fingers up, they’re icey.” As his fingers willingly wrap around mine, I don’t have to glance to feel his look edging me on for the rest of the story. I sigh. “Well, she said something dumb about not wanting me to hang out with a certain bad boy loner type with yucky hair, and I didn’t feel like sticking around.”

“I’m gonna ignore the part about my great hair for the moment, because I’m too chuffed that you stuck up for me… “Remarkably, somehow, his voice is grinning, as he slows us immediately too a stop and moves to stand in front of me, loosening his arm around me just enough to do so, but not letting go so I’m kind of… well, I’m enveloped in him. I can smell his familiar shampoo and aftershave, and feel weirdly, wonderfully small in front of him, who is taller. Which is usually not too noticeably because he isn’t magnificently tall, but he is… 3 to 5 inches taller than me? And because we’re so close, you can tell.

Embarrassingly, I just stand there silently as he grins, and brings our linked hands up to his mouth, to tap a kiss to mine. What? What? WhAT! This is not… this cannot just be friendly, can it? I glance away from his blue-blue eyes, so I can gather my voice back. “Not a big deal.”

“Maybe not, but I like it.”

With nothing else to use my voice for, because I can’t think of anything else to say, I look back up at his, our hands still close to his mouth a grin on his lips. There, I decide to do something. I decide to make or break our friendships, to see what happens, to do something I want to try.

I decide to kiss him.

I tilt my head, and pull down our hands and close my eyes, not allowing for any second thoughts before I get up on my toes and hopefully touch his mouth with mine. I remember wondering what happens if I actually get his chin or his nose, before my lips connect with his and everything goes starry.

Because immediately like he was prepared for it, like that, he kisses back. Pulling me in comfortably with his arm and letting go of my hand so he can cup the side of my neck, his thumb resting on my jaw. I use my new freedom to bunch his coat in my fist, and bring him warmer to me. Not that it could get much warmer for me, with his mouth laying a long, soft kiss to me.

This is definitely the ideal outcome to my decision.  

“Took way too long for you to do that, sweetheart.” Is the first thing he says post-first-kiss, husky and quietly, against my lips as he looks from them to my eyes which is way too attractive a power for a teenage boy to have if you ask me, before kissing me again, this time deeper and with his tongue. All I can do is stand there and try my best to reciprocate the sheer, hot passion that somehow he’s able to convey to me without words, despite this being my first kiss, to the best of my mediocre abilities.

“I… didn’t know you were waiting for it,” I say, when he seems done for more then 2 seconds. A flash of a smile crosses his face, rolling his eyes.

“I wasn’t obvious enough for you??”

“No!”

“I said that I’m glad I get you tonight!”

“That’s code for ‘Kiss me’???”

“Yes!”

“Well, I’ll remember that now!”

He sighs in exasperation while smiling, which is good because I’m grinning too. “Do you wanna just make out some more?”

“Oh, yes, we shall. Good idea.”

[aqueenrisesintheeast]

I was tagged to do this fun thing by my very special and dear friend whom I love @madiquin

LIST YOUR TOP 10 FEMALE CHARACTERS FROM 10 FANDOMS, AND TAG 10 PEOPLE:

10) Violet Baudelaire / ASOUE

She’s everything a young girl would want to live up to I think. She’s super clever but more than that compassionate. Always looking out for her siblings even though their lives are dog shit. She never loses the goodness inside her.

9) Cersei Lannister / Game of Thrones

So as a person I hate this wicked bitch but as a character I think she’s one of the most brilliantly written women not just in fantasy but in all of literature. I don’t know why she resonates with me specifically but her story is fascinating. I GET completely why she is the way she is. She’s had a lot of bullshit to deal with but she’s still responsible for the horrible things she does. Very tragic character. Brilliantly played by Lena Heady.

8) Halliwell sisters / Charmed

I’m cheating here because I can’t pick between the four sisters. Charmed is one of my favorite shows from childhood and it still holds up today. Not much else to say except these girls gave me strong women to look up to.

7) Katniss Everdeen / Hunger Games Trilogy

Another wonderfully written lady. Katniss tries so hard to keep control of her terrifying situation and you just want to hug her. She helped me realize the world is a festering capitalist hellscape likely bound for destruction! No wonder she is traumatized at the end of Mockingjay :)

6) Selene / Underworld series

I’m sort of obsessed with Kate Beckinsale and also vampires and the way these movies portray them are great. Selene just does not give a fuck about your rules and she will fuck a werewolf/vampire hybrid then shoot you in the face after. Also she loves her daughter very much 💕

5) Tyrande Whisperwind / Warcraft universe

There’s some uh, controversy, as to what the fuck blizzard is doing with Tyrande in Shadowlands. I think they’re trying to make her crazy with power like they do to every other fucking woman in the series BUT I am going to separate her from the dudebros who write her. The High Priestess of Elune, she’s over ten thousand years old, a deadly huntress and leader of the night elves. I’ve loved her since I started playing WoW 10 years ago. Her husband is useless and whiny. I hope she learns to love herself and start dating one of her sentinels or priestesses or something.

4) Alina Starkov / Grisha Trilogy

Been a minute since I read the books. Really looking forward to the Netflix series. Alina is a really cool chick with sunshine shooting from her fingers. What else do you need!! That love triangle is yucky but what an adventure she goes on! I love her friendship with Genya 💜

3) Missandei / Game of Thrones

Sunshine in human form. This is a dog shit show that never deserved you. I miss you forever.

3) Evie / The Mummy & The Mummy Returns

Listen. I’ve grown up loving this woman. She’a everything I always wanted to be. She has: a huge brain filled with ancient historical knowledge, a himbo husband who adores her, she knows how to excavate a tomb PROPERLY, she reads and writes in ancient languages, has bravery in the face of rotting corpses and old foes from past lives. You can’t fuck with her and if you think you can go and look for Anck-su-namun!!! JK YOU CANT BECAUSE SHE WAS EATEN BY SCARABS

1) Daenerys Targaryen / Game of Thrones

My love of dany is well documented on this blog so I’m not going to go crazy here, but I’ll say that if d&d and grrm ever meet tragic and mysterious ends for what they did to her then well that wouldn’t be so bad, would it :)

I tag @sleepy-time and whoever else wants to! If you do please tag me, I’d like to read yours!

[minnochu]

Lustrous (pt. 14)

Hybrid!Kook x Fem!Reader AU

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Pt 17 | Pt 18 | Pt 19

(A/n): Hiya! Welcome back to another update! I can’t even believe it myself that I managed to update so soon after the last one ahhh. I was so excited to write this and can’t wait for the next upcoming parts so please enjoy! Much love to you all!

NOTE: Small little warning that this part contains minor gore? Probably not as graphic as my other fic Interference was, but still kind of yucky so be warned!

Another note to the note: Sorry if this was a bit sloppy or there’s many mistakes, I tried going through it as quickly as possible. Also, I will update links and masterlist schtuff when I get home from uni so bear with me!!

..

Through it all, Jungkook continued to not understand why he felt the way he did. Why were you so important to him? Why jump head first into this when Yoongi could’ve done so? 

What Hyejin had said to him before the mind meld continued to pick at his brains. Was this all because of the imprinting? He didn’t know. And that annoyed him. 

After the three of you returned from the mind meld ritual, your memories returned and fortunately, everyone returned unscathed. The others had mentioned Jungkook’s struggle in the beginning, but he waved it off, washing the dried up blood that had spilled from his mouth. That was another thing bothering him. Why was he at that cursed laboratory again? It resurfaced past memories he despised and kept in the back of his brain, but the mind melding had brought it back.

Following the return, Hyejin never left your side, reprimanding you for trusting Taehyung and offering to let you stay at her place but you all knew that you were safer here than anywhere else. Hyejin had been filled in on the details of your powers and such, giving in when she knew this was something only they could handle not a mortal like herself. 

Before she left, she motioned for Jungkook to follow her out. Despite the frown that etched its way across his pouty lips, he relented and followed her outside. The others looked at one another, but knew not to interfere between those two. Only you had no idea what there was between the hybrid and your friend or why it made you feel weird on the inside.

“I’m not gonna scream at you to stay away from her if that’s what you’re expecting,” she sighs as the boy closes the front door behind him. The mortal steps off the door step and onto the wooden planks of the porch. The ritual didn’t take more than an hour, but it still felt it had to the hybrid. 

He shrugs nonetheless, leaning himself back against the wall beside the door, “You reek of anger, I’d be surprised if you wouldn’t scream.”

“I just don’t want her to get hurt Jungkook. I know she’s safer with you all, but I just can’t trust that it’s you she’s most fond of,” she exhales heavily, turning over to stare out into the forest, “I don’t want--”

“I know,” he interrupts firmly, not meaning to let out the low growl that sounds from his chest, “Sorry… I just… I know and you know too that I tried my best to keep her at an arm’s length.”

“And yet you imprinted on her?!” Hyejin snaps back before sucking in a breath and calming her nerves, repeating with a softer tone, “...You imprinted on her…of all things…”

Imprinting. He wanted to forget about that. It didn’t make him feel any better about the way he was starting to act and feel around you but what Hyejin said smacked him in the face. 

“Protect her please,” Hyejin whispered, already knowing what he must’ve been mulling over in his head.

He didn’t answer.

He couldn’t look at you anymore after that. Hyejin went home and he went back inside. He gave little emotion or response as he locked himself in his room. There was too much on his mind, and he just couldn’t figure out what it was that bothered him about the whole imprinting situation and what he felt towards you. 

“Jungkook?” Your voice called out to him once the sun lowered in the west and the moon took its place. By that time, he skipped dinner and continued to lay sprawled out over his bed and staring blankly at the ceiling. 

That’s right, he thought, ignoring the way his heart beat faster at the sound of his name on your lips. You were staying in his room for the time being, but he wasn’t ready to see you just yet. Why did his heart beat? Was it himself, or was it his wolf? Damn the imprinting for turning him into this mess of feelings. If he hadn’t imprinted on you, then would he still have this peculiar affection towards you? 

He didn’t answer. 

You were confused and worried, wondering why he had gone outside to talk with Hyejin before returning and looking as though something was bothering him. You asked Seokjin about it at dinner, but he smoothly dodged the question and changed the subject. Yoongi was the only one who answered curtly that it was something you would have to talk to Jungkook about, but currently he was avoiding you. 

He could smell the worry from outside the door, and suddenly he felt the urge to rip the door open and comfort you. Was that really what he wanted? He didn’t know. It made it complicated that he couldn’t tell the difference between his own feelings and what he was forced to feel due to the imprinting. 

“It’s best to leave him alone for a while,” Yoongi’s voice sounds from the hallway, “Take my bed, I’ll sleep in the living room instead.”

Jungkook’s mind went blank. His heart clenched in pain as his mind began to race with thoughts of refusal at the offer. 

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no! 

It drove him mad the whole night. The thought of you sleeping in another wolf’s bed, made his insides burn with distraught and fury. 

And yet he decided he just couldn’t do anything about it while he was trying to figure himself out and how he felt about you. 

The days passed and you would go back to school, although he would keep his distance and leave it up to Jimin and Taehyung to watch after you.

“This has been going on for longer than I thought it would, what’s wrong with you?” Yoongi interrupts the hybrid in the middle of his homework one day, holed up in his room as usual. 

Pursing his lips, he turned away with a curt, “Nothing.”

The older wolf grins as he closes the door behind him and plops onto the bed beside the youth. The mattress dips underneath the addition as Yoongi hooks an arm around Jungkook’s neck into a headlock.

“Come on now, I can smell how fucking jealous you are from a mile away. You can’t just tell me it’s nothing when Hoseok and I have been sleeping in the living room for the past week... it’s not good for the back you know?”

Jungkook continues to stay silent, unsure what to make of his feelings and insecurities in front of his hyung. He notices this and releases the younger from his hold.

“If it means anything Kookie-ah, she’s really worried. It’s all up to you really, but you can’t just keep her in the dark like this.”

“And what? Tell her my oh-so tragic backstory and how I imprinted on her? She’ll reject me, she’ll think I’m playing with her feelings. What if my wolf is the only thing making me attracted to her? What’s going to stop her from being repulsed by the thought that my feelings aren’t genuine?!”

Silence. 

And then Yoongi quirks a brow, “So you admit you have feelings for her?” 

“Th-that’s not the point hyung!” Jungkook’s face goes red with embarrassment and frustration, his fist flying towards the wolf’s face on instinct. 

Catching it in his palm, Yoongi shakes his head with a click of his tongue, “I don’t think you understand what it really means for a wolf to imprint on someone. Sure it’s complicated when you’ve imprinted on a hum... I mean witch... but you’ve gotta let yourself accept it or else you’ll keep hurting yourself. No one’s saying it but all you’re doing right now, is running away like a mutt.”

He rises to leave when the other refuses to reply, “Let me give you some food for thought. What’s the difference between Hyejin and (Y/n)? What sets them apart?”

Frowning, the hybrid doesn’t have the answer to his question, nor dos he want to think about it right now.

And Jungkook returns to his cycle of avoiding you once again.

Fed up with his obvious avoidance, you decided to take matters into your hands. The worst he could do was go vampire-wolf on you, but you knew that was just not something he’d do. 

“Jimin,” you tug the wolf by his sleeve until he pauses mid step to regard you with a cock of his head. Taehyung notices the two of you have stopped walking back home, and halts as well. They notice your fidgeting fingers, your scent heavy with nervousness. 

“Can you… somehow get Jungkook alone with me?”

The wolf grins cheekily at that, “If I didn’t know any better (Y/n), I would think you’re about to jump our maknae.”

Your cheeks flare a bright red hue at the implication before you wildly wave your hands in front of you. “N-no! I just…” You trail off, obviously embarrassed by your own words.

His toothy smile widens. Placing a hand over your head, he nodded in understanding, “I’m teasing you (Y/n), we’ll do our best, right Tae?”

The vampire replies with a nod, smiling warmly at you. It was the least he could do after he continued to feel guilty about the whole memory manipulation ordeal.

Later on, you would wait in Taehyung and Jimin’s shared room while they made an excuse for Jungkook to go there. Soon, you can hear multiple footsteps outside, along with the muffled voices of the three boys before the door opens and the hybrid steps in. Your scent meets his nose right away and he turns abruptly to escape as soon as possible. However, Jimin smiles cryptically at the younger as he turns around in effort to leave. His eyes flash a mischievous glint of gold as he lays a hand over Jungkook’s chest.

“Sorry Kookie-ah,” He snickers before shoving him backwards with added force via supernatural strength.

He could totally knock down the door, he thought as he attempted at the door knob to find it magically locked. Was Seokjin-hyung in on this as well? That didn’t matter. Right now, he was not ready to face you just yet as he sorted out his feelings. But he couldn’t stop the way his stomach flipped and heart drummed louder in his ears. Glancing at you, he couldn’t help but long for the days he let himself freely be around you. It was more over the fact that he was too unstable with controlling his vampiric side, but that he didn’t know how to look at you anymore. Did he like you? Or was his wolf forcing him to like you? The more he thought about it, the more questions he had unanswered and it left him in a frustrated stump. 

Then you spoke, and his world began to blur until it was only you he saw. It was your voice in his head, and he couldn’t tell if he hated or loved it. 

“Jungkook, I don’t know what happened or why you don’t want to see me anymore… but I hate this! I know it’s not my place to know what happened between you and Hyejin or whatever happened in your past, but I hate that you just won’t look at me anymore and I don’t know why!” You frowned, and he felt the urge to want to do anything and everything he could to wipe it away.

He grew red in the face. Not from anger, nor embarrassment, more of holding his breath before finally relenting and taking you by the hand. “Hold on,” he muttered under his breath as he walked towards the window. Flipping the lock, he used his free hand to pull the window up and open. Turning towards you, he tugged lightly on your hand in his. Letting yourself be pulled, you felt his arms slide underneath the crook of your knees and around your back. Biting your lip, you looked away in poor effort to hide your embarrassment. 

Blue bled across his irises as he hopped from the window and ran through the woods. Pursing your lips, you glanced up at the concentration in Jungkook’s expression, his mouth pulled into a taut line as he held you close to his warmth. Smiling softly, you leaned your head on his shoulder, relishing in his scent that you had missed for the last few weeks or so.

Eventually, he’d come to stop at a creek, a small pond in the middle of the forest where he came many times before to clear his head or be by himself. Setting you down on the mossy ground, he beckoned you over to a patch of land along the shore that was slightly raised in a hill-like appearance. You both sat down, finding a patch of dirt where the moss didn’t grow. Where the pond was located, the trees cleared and created an opening within the forest to let sunlight shine over the clear waters. Rocks of varying sizes scatter around the body of water along with tufts of wild grass sprouting around and within the pond. Looking closer, you could spot a grey scaled fish with orange fins swimming idly among the various underwater plants. In another instance, you watch as a small frog dives into the shallow water, leaving behind a circular ripple from where it dove into the liquid.

Around the two of you, birds chirp and sing softly in the background, accompanied by the occasional ruffle of the leaves of the surrounding brush. A rabbit, maybe, you thought as Jungkook continued to watch the water silently. Following his gaze, you almost miss the minuscule water strider, standing still on the surface of the pond. 

“It’s beautiful,” You whisper as spot the movements of a squirrel racing up a tree trunk with his cheeks full.

The hybrid turns his head slightly and nearly forgets how to breathe. Blinking once then twice to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. It was at that moment, he glanced at you, bathed in the sunlight beside him as you watched the happenings of the forest with a serene smile, he thought you were fucking beautiful. More beautiful than the scenery you were complimenting. 

“Jungkook?” 

He snaps out of his reverie, cheeks blooming with a shy pink hue. A soft giggle makes it passed your puckered lips as he turns back to you with a frown. 

“I found this place years ago, it became somewhere I could run to when I need a minute to calm down.”

“It’s very calming,” you hum in agreement, watching as the frog from before hops onto a floating lily pad, “Thank you for showing me this place.”

“Yeah…” he agrees curtly, focusing his attention on the ground where a patch of orange wild flowers have grown. Silently, he lets his fingers brush over the petals of each. 

“So?” You ask, leaning forward to rest the side of your head on your bent knees. The action is minuscule as you gaze at him with a gentle upturn of your lips, but he finds you so so pretty that he has to look away again to fight off the blood rushing to his face. 

“You gotta tell me what’s up Jungkook, I won’t know what to do if all you do is avoid me…” You start out carefully, “It’s absolutely your choice whether or not you tell me… I just want you to trust me... like I trust you.“

“You’re just like me, right?” you quote after him with a sly glint in your eyes and he relents. 

That was just unfair, he thought.

“I guess it’s only fair that you know about my past, if I know yours.”

The hybrid shifts to face his body towards you and you mirror the movement. You cross your legs as he rises onto his knees. Holding your breath, you watch as he scoots forward, leaning his upper body closer to you. Your heart beats faster, as he gazes hesitantly back and forth between your eyes and down at the ground, and you’re afraid he’ll hear it. And he can, if only he weren’t so conscious of the sound of his own heart. 

“I would tell you, but I think it’s better if you take a look yourself.” The wolf took your hands in his, his heart flipping at the contact before he swallowed down the feeling and placed each hand over his temples. 

“W-wait,” You stammer, “I’m not going to hurt you will I?” 

You had a point, after the two times you and the pack had to deal with anything having to do with memories and the mind.

“Stay calm, and you shouldn’t do much as give me a slight headache,” He offers a meek attempt at a joke as both of your eyes slip close and the amber stone resting over your chest begins to glow. Just like mind meld, your whole being and surroundings vibrate wildly before you reopen your eyes to find yourself in a home. It seemed normal, like any other family home. Looking down, you examined your body to find it looking almost transparent as if you were ghost in this world. 

Walking around, you find yourself standing at the entertainment system where many picture frames sit. Your hand moves through one, proving your ghostly state, so you opt to bending slightly to look at the photo of a young boy smiling with three other people. You deduce him to be Jungkook with how similar the two look, the other possibly being his parents and a brother. 

“I’m home!” A voice chirps loudly and in comes the said boy. You turn, wide-eyed, as the boy passes through you easily and runs into the kitchen. Following after him, you soften at the sight of Jungkook running into the arms of his mother, who had been cooking dinner for the family. 

Days pass as though the fast forward button on a television remote had been pressed, and you watch as Jungkook grows up. At one particular moment, you watch in the dimly lit confines of the hybrid’s room as the boy snuggles close to his mother and father. The three stare at the ceiling where she and her husband had stuck glow-in-the-dark stars to the ceiling. Each night, they’d tell him tales and stories of the stars. 

On this particular night, little Kook stood up on the mattress suddenly and grinned at his parents, “Mommy! Father told me that the stars and the moon moved when he met you and he burst into flames!” 

“He did what now?” she giggled as her husband caught her leer and laughed nervously.

Shaking her head, she hooked a finger under the left pant leg of his pajamas to tug him back to lying down with them.

“Let me teach you something Kookie-ah,” his father chuckled heartily as he wrapped an arm over both his youngest son and wife, “When I said the stars and moon moved, that was when I knew your mother and I were fated.”

“Fated?” He repeats with a confused blink of his eyes.

“Yes fated, the day I met your mother I felt the world shifting around me, it felt like hm… like I just drank lots of hot chocolate until my belly felt hot!” Jungkook giggles at that, “And nothing else mattered to me except your mother, I wanted to be anywhere she was, we were soulmates if you’d like to put it that way… She and I were fated to be with one another... like a perfect match.”

“I’d do anything and be anything for her regardless if she rejected me or not. Even if she had rejected this old fool, I would continue to fall more and more in love with her.”

“What if mommy said no?”

“Then I would die.”

Jungkook’s mother glares pointedly at the man, her eyes flashing a dangerous gold.

“I’m kidding! Then your dad would hurt really really bad!”

The woman growls teasingly at her fated before leaning down to press a kiss to her son’s forehead. Her slender fingers brushing strands of his sooty hair that fell over his eyes.

“One day, you will also imprint on a lucky little she-wolf too…”

You frown at that, top teeth pressing into the plush of your bottom lip at the thought of Jungkook being fated to be with another she-wolf. Where was the chance that he’d ever be fated to you, a mortal siphoner, right? 

Then you paused. Why were you so worried about that? 

Soon, the world shifts suddenly, almost making you dizzy as you witness the kidnapping years later when Jungkook has reached seventh grade and Junghyun, his brother, has reached 9th. The two are knocked out with blows to the back of their necks from pursuers that had been following them for the past week. You watch with a hand covering your mouth, as if you could make any noise to alert anyone, while the two men haul the children over their shoulders before disappearing in the blink of an eye. 

Vampires, you thought as you grimaced. 

Jeon Jungkook and Junghyun would not be making it home safely that night. Their mother and father would search day and night for their missing children with no luck. 

The next time your world shifts, you find yourself in a warehouse, the inside expansive as it holds numerous amounts of crates, cages, and equipment. Any and every window is covered by sloppily nailed on wooden boards, covering the building in darkness aside from the few light bulbs hanging from the high ceiling that do little work in lighting up the large space. Walking through the paths the clutter of items create like a maze, you can’t help but feel sick to your stomach. You pass several cages and can barely keep yourself from looking away from the amount of were-creatures kept captive inside the rusting bars. Most have given up hope, sitting silently with eyes devoid of any light. Their skinny bodies shiver, barely clothed and covered in bruises and cuts. Some are already long dead, you find as the malnourished creatures take to eating their rotting cage mates, making you gag in horror and disgust. 

When you stop at a particular cage, your blood runs cold and you almost go running for a bathroom when you look inside. Eyes widening, you’re face to face with what you guessed was their sick take on a chimera. The poor young man is barely sitting up with gangly bat wings sprouting from his back, horns extending from his forehead along with hooves replacing his feet and a long lion’s tail coming from his tail bone. His face has sunken in, and his body almost appears like he’s merely skin and bones at that point. 

When you manage to tear your eyes away from the chimera, you slip through plastic curtains that separates itself from the rest of the building. The section is filled entirely with examination tables with metal straps at the base and towards the middle. Carts, filled with tools that you’d expect to see in an operation room and test tubes filled with liquids labeled with cream colored painters tape, sat beside the tables. Glancing down, you suck in a breath at the amount of blood splattered on the ground, some are a fresh dark red while others have dried into a faded reddish-brown. 

Of the few populating the section, one prisoner is strapped down and struggling as the man above her injects a needle into her. His gloved thumb depresses on the plunger until all of the contents have been ejected into the young girl’s system. She jolts and her chest rises up and down rapidly as her arm trembles and her veins begin to swell and protrude from her skin, soon followed by angry red welts. Her eyes burn a raging gold mixed with a milky white, black pupils narrowing into pin-like slits. The welts bleed green and scaly, hardening her soft flesh from her shoulder to the tips of her hands turned talons. 

Gulping down, you turn and almost jump out of your skin when a scientist walks through you, almost forgetting that you were currently looking into Jungkook’s memories. 

Following after the male, you look to another table where a boy, looking to be in his teens, is sedated as the scientists above open up the ventral side of his body. Feeling squeamish, you notice the cart full of larger jars instead of vials, all of which are filled with preservative liquid with various organs suspended in each. They make work in transplanting a new heart and other organs into the male as you observe with a hand to your mouth. Passing by the cart, you squint down at one of the containers where a label is messily scrawled with the characters reading “ghoul” and another reading “siren”. 

You thought back to the miserable chimera lying nearly half dead in his cage and gagged at the idea of what monstrosity they could be cooking up here. 

“Junghyun!” you hear before you could explore any further, not that you wanted to, causing you to turn at the sound of Jungkook’s cry. Rushing in the direction of the voice, you come to a halt when you spot the young wolf being held back by henchmen. Tears run down his full cheeks, eyes burning a harsh gold as he struggles against the two men. The two are much stronger than he is, holding him without breaking a sweat as a man cackles and he kicks the convulsing body of Junghyun on the ground, “Wait patiently little wolf! Your turn is next!” 

The way he slurs those words with a leer of his golden eyes has your stomach stirring in the wrong way.

You watch confused as the older brother awakens with a shout, his eyes a mixture of gold and amber. The color of a newborn, you suppose if you remember anything from your classes on the different creatures. That thought leaves your mind as the boy cries out in pain, rolling over onto his hands and knees as tremors rack his body. His eyes are wide with strain as red liquid seeps from the lower seam of his eyes. 

“Junghyun! Junghyun!” Jungkook continues to cry as his brother screams in agony and furiously claws at his own face. This creates deep gashes from his claws, bleeding profusely from both the wounds and his eyes. 

The man from before only continues to howl with boisterous laughter at his suffering, swinging his leg back and into the teen’s ribcage. The force sends him flying sideways until he smashes into the hard surface of a crate. 

You have to tear your eyes away as the boy slowly dies from rejecting the blood the vampire had forced him to ingest. His screams having grown hoarse and exhausted and his body falling limp in finality.

Jungkook grows furious, growling and snapping at them.

“Your turn, little one,” the man grins wildly as the nail of his index finger protrudes into a sharp claw. Slowly, he walks towards the struggling boy as he takes the sharp nail and slides it across the flesh of his forearm. A straight line of blood drips from the deep cut.

Unamused by his struggling, he throws a hook to the side of the younger’s face. Jungkook’s head snaps left from the force, cheek flaring with pain as he coughs out blood. 

“Shut the fuck up and drink up,” The man hums as his hand grips harshly at his jaw to open his mouth forcibly, causing the boy to struggle once more. Settling his arm over the child, he watches with fascination as his blood falls into his mouth and he’s forced to swallow it. Licking his lips with a satisfied smile, he mutters lowly, “Now this will only hurt a little bit,” before all five of his finger nails extend into sharp claws and he thrusts his whole hand forward into Jungkook’s chest.

You gasp with tears springing to your eyes, covering your mouth with both hands to muffle the sound of surprise that jumps out of your mouth.

The struggling has stopped all together with his breathing and the two guards release the boy. His body drops with a heavy thud. Seconds pass before Jungkook repeats Junghyun’s previous movements, screaming and convulsing wildly on the ground as the vampiric blood races through his circulatory system. When his erratic spasming slowly calms down, his skinny body is covered in a thin layer of sweat and his chest is falling up and down in tandem with his harsh inhales and exhales.

The next events are too hard to watch as Jungkook reawakens as a transitioning werewolf-vampire hybrid, mistakenly murdering his parents before killing and drinking from the man who had turned him and deceived him. His transition had completed and he was filled to the brim with fury and sadness. His eyes bled with furious rage of iridescent blue and amber as he killed anything and everything within the warehouse. 

When nothing remained living, the boy left in hopes of finding a body of water to wash up. He wandered for hours away from that damned warehouse, finding himself lost in forest, huge in comparison to him. Nothing to eat or drink, he dragged himself through the forest looking as though he’d bathed in blood, claws and incisors extended, and his eyes glowing their blue and amber hue. 

Blood. He craved blood so desperately. And he wasn’t about to start licking his blood covered hand like a dog. Although he was a born wolf after all, but that was besides the point. He was not about to accept his new found hybrid status, he despised it. Why did it have to be him? Why did his brother have to die? The more he continued to think about the events within the warehouse, his blood boiled and his eyes began to bleed more amber than blue.

Any living creature he could find, be it a rabbit or squirrel, ran for their lives from just feeling his presence. Even for you as a mere spector, the amount of animosity and power unfurling off his being was almost as overwhelming as it was in reality. 

His eyes slid closed as his vision grew blurry. The world tilted and he let his body tip over and fall flat on the ground.

You sat crouched by his side, heart hurting for the tall boy before you heard the slightest noise of leaves crunching underneath the weight of something or someone. Blinking, you bit back a gasp before the world shifts and you’re back in a familiar room. 

When he comes to, eyelids slowly sliding open, he hadn’t expected to be staring up at a roof over his head. Raising a shaky hand, he clutched at his forehead thrumming with a dull ache from hunger and dehydration. Glancing around, he blinked before shooting up into a sitting position.

“Woah there, take it easy,” a voice chuckles from the doorway and you recognize the aura. 

Goosebumps unfurl across the surface of your arms as a younger Min Yoongi steps over to the bed and sets down a tray of rice porridge and a glass of water on the nightstand. His smile is slight but welcoming nonetheless when Jungkook casts him a guarded glare.

.

Tags:  @twilight-loveer @reinyrei@mistytail@mygukandonlyficrecs@xanny91@unpocodesoledadywisky@xxqueenwxtchxx@lildemonangele@gukworld@sunnyoongles @zamirayinyue13@hannahdearr @serendipity-secrets @ilaria-np @jules-park @treetops68 @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @jeonkooksgirl @coffeeismylife28 @nshitae @bookoffracturedescapes @ellsbells72

@tiredjedi

[exoticarmyofcrowns]

first love | myg

pairing: none. this is a solo yoongi fic

summary: nothing is for certain. except yoongi’s love for his piano. or: first love in too many words

genre: song fic, angst

warnings: some mentions of depression and yucky thoughts, potentially triggering mention of a panic attack (i tried to be purposefully vague but just in case), potentially graphic depiction of a car accident

word count: ~5.5k

a/n: hello! so uh here i am making my debut! i am still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster that was bangbangcon and it kinda rallied me into wanting to publish this?? i adore first love, i think it is such a poignant, poetic representation of yoongi’s love and devotion to music and i really wanted to explore that relationship a little in story form. i’ve had this written for a while and i’ve always wanted to write stuff on here but never had the courage. but i figure we all collectively need some respite from our emotions so here is a small gift, if anyone would like to take a look. if you do, pls enjoy and let me know your thoughts! <3

(also, please keep in mind that artistic liberties were taken despite being based off of yoongi’s life.)

Yoongi is five years old.

He wanders out of his room, looking for his mom. He just has to show her this awesome drawing that he made. He knows that she’ll love it, that she will be proud of him. Smiling gleefully, he toddles off into the rest of the house to find her.

“Eomma!” he yells, hoping she’ll hear him and give him a clue as to where she is. Maybe she’s playing hide and seek! Yoongi giggles at the thought, determined now more than ever to find her.

He checks his parents room, frowning when he realizes it’s empty. It’s not bedtime, he reasons, she wouldn’t be in here. Closing the door, Yoongi sets off into the living room to check there. But there’s no sign of his mother there either. She’s not in the kitchen and the bathroom door is open so she’s not in there either. Frustrated, Yoongi turns to go back to his room.

On his way back, he spots a door at the end of the hall. His eyes narrow as he purses his lips. He hadn’t checked there yet. Maybe she really is hiding from him. Deciding it was worth a try, he stomps over to the door and reaches up to grab the handle. 

It takes a few tries but Yoongi manages to gather enough strength to push open the door. He whips his head around, checking every possible corner for signs of his mom. He’s about to let out a frustrated whine when his eyes catch on something on the far wall to his right.

A piano.

Yoongi had seen pictures of pianos before in the stories his mom would read to him before bed but he had never seen one up close. It’s massive, towering over his small frame in a way that should have been intimidating but only filled him with quiet wonder. 

Scrambling up on the tall bench--which should have tipped over with the force of his jump but it miraculously stayed put--Yoongi takes in the white and black keys, marveling at the way they shine in the light coming from the window. He sticks out a small, chubby finger and presses one of the keys. The note rings out around him and he giggles in delight. 

Pretty, he thinks. He begins pressing keys in earnest, playing around with different note combinations and laughing in pure joy when he finds a pair that he likes. He’s so enraptured by the piano that he hardly notices when the door creaks open.

“There you are, little one.” His mother’s voice has a playful lilt in it as she watches her son play the piano with unadulterated glee.

“Eomma!” Yoongi cries, excited to show her his discovery. “Look! A piano!”

“I see!” she laughs. “You’re quite the musician.”

“Musician,” he repeats, liking the way it feels on his tongue. “I feel so nice, mom.”

Yoongi’s mother cards her fingers through his hair fondly, chuckling at her precocious son. “Hmm, maybe the piano likes you. You two will grow up to be the best of friends.” She scoops the young child in her arms, heart warming at the squeals of laughter the action elicits.

“Come on now, my little Beethoven,” his mother says, setting Yoongi back down on the ground and taking his small hand in hers. “It’s time for lunch.”

As he follows his mother out of the room, Yoongi takes one last look at the piano. He smiles, already excited to play again.

Yoongi is fourteen years old. 

The last bell rings, signaling the end of the school day but Yoongi hardly hears it, pen scribbling furiously across his paper. Inspiration had struck in the middle of math class and he has to get the lyrics down before he leaves to go home. 

Finishing, he rereads through his work with a small smile. He’s quite proud of these lyrics, thinks they might be the best yet. He already has an idea for a backing beat swirling in his head, one that would really compliment the message of his rap and the new flow he’s been experimenting with. He feels giddy with excitement at the idea of playing around with some different sounds. Standing, Yoongi packs up his things, throwing his journal into his bag before heading out with the rest of his classmates. 

As he walks, Yoongi is, not for the first time, conscious of how alone he is. Girls walk in line with their arms interlocked while the guys are loud and boisterous, hanging off each other with wide grins on their faces. He has friends of course, if you could call the neighborhood kids he plays basketball with on occasion “friends,” but none that he would consider particularly close to him. The thought leaves him feeling strange so he shuts it out, shaking his head roughly as if to physically dispel it.

He makes his way to the school entrance, hanging a quick left past the convenience store to the bus stop. He catches a glimpse of a group of students talking and laughing, indulging in a hot bowl of ramen before heading home. Yoongi’s stomach rumbles at the sight and he pauses, calculating. His shoulders slump when he realizes he doesn’t quite have enough, the change burning a hole in his pocket just enough to cover his bus fare home and little else. He doesn’t get paid again until Friday. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he ignores the cramping in his stomach and continues on to catch his bus.

The bus ride home is, thankfully, uneventful. He trudges his way from the bus stop to his house. Like he does every day. As he climbs the steps, Yoongi thinks a little wryly to himself that the house that had seemed so huge to him as a child feels scarcely bigger than a prison cell. Maybe it’s the hunger talking.

Opening the front door, Yoongi sighs out a half-hearted I’m home! despite knowing the house is empty. He bends over to shuck off his shoes and place them in the cubby. A soft thud sounds behind him but he doesn’t notice.

Yoongi heads to the kitchen to down a glass of water in the hopes of dispelling the growing hunger pangs before shuffling to his room, tossing his backpack carelessly at the foot of his bed and flopping face-first onto the thin mattress. He knows he should probably get up and finish his homework but he still feels the residual exhaustion from his weekend shifts at the convenience store. Maybe he should ask Mr. Kim to lighten up on his hours. Yoongi would have to sell more songs to make up the income difference but he thinks it might be worth it to get some extra sleep.

He nods off for what he swears can’t be more than a few minutes but the sound of the front door shutting and the way his room has dimmed significantly suggest otherwise. Swearing, Yoongi turns on his bedside lamp and rubs a tired hand down his face. He stands, stretching his tight muscles, and moves to grab his bag from the floor. The house is eerily silent considering his parents have just come home but Yoongi brushes the thought away in favor of pulling out his textbook to get started on his homework.

Just as he’s about to sit down, a figure stops in front of his bedroom doorway. Yoongi looks up, a small smile and a greeting on his lips. They both wither at the sight before him.

There stands his father, holding his lyrics journal. Yoongi feels his mouth go dry.

They stare at each other for an immeasurable amount of time. Yoongi tries to think of something, anything, to say but his mind has blanked and his skin prickles in a cold sweat. His father recovers before he does.

“Min Yoongi,” he begin, voice deceptively calm. “What is this?”

“A-Appa,” Yoongi stutters. “I can explain--”

“I thought we talked about this, Yoongi.” He steps into Yoongi’s room and the younger boy fights the urge to cower where he stands. “You should be focusing on your studies. Not on these frivolous songs.”

Yoongi winces and tries to push down the flash of irritation. “Yes, appa. B-But I haven’t been letting it affect my grades. I get all my school work done and I try to help you and mom out by picking up extra shifts at Mr. Kim’s store--”

“And selling this drivel on street corners?” Yoongi freezes. His parents weren’t supposed to know about that. “Oh yes, I know all about your little escapades on the streets. Do you know how risky that is? What kind of danger you could be putting yourself in?”

“I…” Yoongi’s voice sounds incredibly small and he hates it. “It’s just to get my name out there. Get some experience.”

“You don’t need experience. This…nonsense--”

“It’s rap, appa. Hip hop.”

His father fixes him with a look but doesn’t comment. “This isn’t a real career, Yoongi.” 

“But I… I love it,” he whispers, trembling with repressed anguish. 

“Love is not enough to make a living.” His father closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. “Is there more?” 

Yoongi hesitates before nodding slowly.

“Give it to me.” He holds his hand out, frown set deeply on his forehead. “This ends now.”

Balking, Yoongi takes a step back, heart crawling into his throat and suffocating him. “A-Appa, no. You can’t--”

“I can and I will. Hand them over, Yoongi.”

The boy feels something akin to rage rush through his veins. He chances a glance at the doorway and sees his mother standing there uneasily.

“Eomma,” he cries thickly.

His mother looks equally as pained but her gaze flickers to her husband. “Your father is right, Yoongi-yah. This… Rap is a hobby, not a job. This could get you involved in the wrong circles. You need to focus on your school work.” She doesn’t meet his gaze.

Anger bubbles in his chest and stings at his eyes, but he chokes down the frustrated scream threatening to tear itself from his throat and moves mechanically to gather his other notebooks full of lyrics. Stiffly, he stands before his father and offers the notebooks.

His father’s expression softens minutely. “We’re doing this for your own good, Yoongi. Please do not doubt this.” With that, he leaves. A year’s worth of lyrics. Gone. His mother lingers at the door but ultimately leaves without another word.

Suddenly, his room feels too small, the faded walls of his old home closing in on him rapidly. Frustration and the anger swirl so violently in his stomach Yoongi thinks he’ll be sick. He can’t be here anymore but he also can’t leave. 

So he runs to the only place he can think of.

The piano room has remained largely untouched since his younger days. The air is stale and faintly musty but Yoongi doesn’t care, can’t bring himself to care as he flings himself onto the old piano bench, arms cradling his head atop the fallboard. Hot, angry tears fall in torrents down his cheeks and his fists clench so tightly he can feel the sharp sting of his nails on his palm. He muffles his cries into his arms, into the piano, unable to keep the sounds to himself any longer.

It takes a while for Yoongi to calm down. Eventually, his tears slow and his breath evens out, though it still hiccups slightly in his chest. He sits up gingerly and stares down at the piano. He hasn’t been here in years and yet… It felt so natural to come here for comfort. Like it was waiting for him.

Shakily, he moves to slide the fallboard back, revealing the shining keys. He straightens his back, falling into position. His fingers hover over the keys, supported lightly by his wrists. The angle is different now that he has grown, no longer dwarfed by the beautiful instrument. Hesitant, Yoongi tries to recall one of the songs his music teacher had taught him and begins to play stiltedly.

It’s awkward; his fingers can’t quite move the way they used to and his new height works against him as he tries to find a comfortable position to play. But the longer he sits, the more comfortable it becomes until he feels like he’s sat here his whole life--playing, listening, living. Yoongi feels a shiver travel down his spine, cleansing and fresh. The anguish and tension from earlier bleeds through his fingertips as he loses himself. 

Gradually, Yoongi stops playing, letting the resounding final notes of his song envelop him, but he doesn’t move. He stays, basking in the warmth, a sort of quiet acceptance, that seems to cradle his body as he sits. 

Caressing the keys almost reverently, Yoongi makes a promise to himself. Rap and writing lyrics and music--these things make up the complex tapestry that is him and he will never let that go ever again. It’s his life to live, his destiny to choose, and he will not let anyone make that decision for him. Not even his parents.

And as he sits there, the boy with his piano welcoming the dawn, he feels the weight on his heart lift just a bit.

Yoongi is nineteen years old.

The rumble of the small bike he uses to make deliveries is the only thing keeping him awake as he drives to his next customer. He’s been pulling more all-nighters as he and the other guys work toward debut, writing songs and going over choreographies. It’s an endless loop of meetings and practices and Yoongi can feel the strain on his frayed nerves. He knows he’s been moodier with his members, too.

His members, he thinks wryly. It wasn’t exactly what he had imagined when he accepted his position at Big Hit but he figures it’s the only way to get what he wants. Music is more important to him than anything. If it requires him to play nice with others for the time being then he can do that. 

Yoongi rolls to a stop at a traffic light and lets out a small sigh, foot coming down onto the pavement to steady himself. The roads are practically empty and it does nothing to quell the exhaustion weighing down his eyelids. It seems like no matter where he is, work will always be a constant in his life. He hadn’t even meant to get another job on top of his producer gig but he’d seen an ad looking for someone to make deliveries a few times a week. The pay was pretty decent and it would be a nice supplement to what he was receiving at Big Hit so he took it. 

It was, however, coming back to bite him in the ass now that things are starting to pick up for them. Just a little longer, he figures. Once they debut, he’ll probably have to quit anyway so might as well enjoy the little extra paycheck for now. Yoongi taps his foot impatiently on the ground as he waits for the light to change, sighing in relief when bright green washes over him and signals him to go.

He’s not quite sure how it happens. He remembers picking his foot up off the ground as he releases the clutch, crossing over the line into the intersection. He thinks he recalls the distant sound of a horn blaring, of a bright light flashing, but that’s overshadowed by the sudden force pushing him onto the ground. His head cracks back against the pavement and thankfully his helmet bears the brunt of the impact but Yoongi still feels the sharp pressure against his skull, a dull ringing sounding in his ears.

Yoongi’s eyes had closed when he was thrown back and he pries them open, vision fuzzy and unfocused, only to be met with the daunting image of a car wheel right in his face. Belatedly, he registers the sound of a bone-chilling scream. He tries to turn his head to find the source of the sound but he realizes with haunting clarity that it’s coming from him. 

Just as he makes the connection, Yoongi begins to hurt. White-hot pain radiates from his shoulder so potent it chokes him. He hears the sound of an engine revving and the wheel in front of his face starts to move away. It catches on his bike, sending it crashing into his shoulder, and another scream of agony scrapes his throat raw. Tears stream from his eyes, further obscuring his vision, but he can still make out the image of the car speeding away, tires screeching as exhaust spews from the pipe.

Yoongi is torn between the excruciating pain and the disbelief that someone just fucking hit him and drove off without even stepping out of the car. He wants to shout curses at the retreating vehicle but the throbbing in his shoulder has intensified even more, churning his stomach so violently it’s a wonder he doesn’t throw up right there. 

Hours pass, it feels like, before a strange sort of numbness begins to filter through his limbs. His body is heavy, and his eyes can no longer hold themselves open. He’s not sure how long he lays there, disoriented and unable to move before someone takes notice of him but he thinks he hears someone frantically calling 911. Soon he hears the sharp siren of an ambulance, lights blinding Yoongi even as he teeters between consciousness and unconsciousness.

The ride to the hospital is a blur. The paramedics had tried talking to him but he was just so tired and everything hurt so bad he could hardly focus long enough to force his lips to form words much less complete sentences. They must hook him to an IV because he feels a sharp prick on the inside of his arm and suddenly his muscles relax. He knows he can’t sleep though so he fights to keep himself awake.

He barely registers arriving at the hospital, the jostling of the stretcher the only indication that he’s moving. A doctor asks one of the paramedics for the report and Yoongi only hears bits of the diagnosis. He knows his shoulder is fucked but the way they’re talking about it unnerves him. He’s anxious now, heart rate spiking as he thinks of the implications this could have on the group. His breathing stutters, sending a shooting pain through his ribs, and he can feel the beginnings of a panic attack tightening in his chest. This catches the attention of the doctor and nurses and they’re suddenly focused on him.

“Yoongi-ssi,” the doctor begins, voice soft and cajoling. He vaguely wonders how he knows his name but then figures the paramedics must have found his license. “You’ve had quite the accident. I know you must be in a lot of pain but is there someone we can call to stay with you and sign some papers?”

Yoongi stares unseeingly at the doctor’s face and really tries to get his voice to cooperate. He knows he can’t call his parents, not yet at least, so he says the first name that comes to mind. 

“N-Namjoon. Kim Namjoon.” He rattles off what he hopes is his phone number before the effort becomes too great. He tries to fight it, he really does, but the events of the night begin to take its toll and his eyelids slip closed as he falls into the beckoning darkness.

When Yoongi comes to, he’s greeted with an annoying beeping somewhere off to his left. He squints, eyes blinking furiously to clear his vision from the blinding white of the hospital room. Moving to sit up, he winces and immediately stops trying to move. He feels like he’s been hit by a truck, which is not too far off, he thinks a little dryly.

A movement to his right makes him flick his gaze to the window where a figure he hadn’t noticed before jumps up from their position in a chair. It’s Namjoon.

“Hyung,” he cries, eyes wild as he practically sprints toward the bed. Yoongi would laugh if he weren’t sure he looked just as ridiculous. “What happened?”

Yoongi scoffs only to grimace when the small movement jerks his shoulder. “Oh, you know, just a casual Friday night.” He tries to joke but Namjoon just gives him a deadpan look so he clears his throat and looks away. “I was making deliveries and some asshole ran a light and hit me. Pretty sure they crushed my shoulder.”

Namjoon nods. He had heard as much from the doctor when he had come in. He seemed to be unimpressed with a barely legal kid coming as Yoongi’s “guardian” but Namjoon couldn’t have cared less in that moment. 

“Do you know who did it?”

“Nah, the bastard sped off as soon as I went down.” Yoongi watches as Namjoon’s face drops in horror, head tipping back in disbelief. 

“Goddammit.” He runs a tired hand through his hair before sliding it down his face.

“What time is it anyway?” 

Namjoon glances at his watch. “Almost eight.”

Yoongi releases a breath. “Fuck. There goes morning practice.” 

“Hyung.” Namjoon’s voice has deepened into his leader voice and Yoongi fights the urge to wince again. “Be serious.”

At his sides, Yoongi’s fists clench. “Does anyone else know?” He raises his gaze to look at the younger man. Namjoon shakes his head once, not breaking eye contact. “Good. Keep it that way.”

The leader balks at that. “What?!” he splutters. “You can’t be serious--”

“Joon.” Yoongi cuts him off with a look, voice softening into a desperate plea. “Please.”

This stops Namjoon short. Yoongi is so rarely vulnerable with him but they have been working and living together for two years now. They’re coworkers and, dare he think, friends. He doesn’t know the full story but he does know that Yoongi’s life has been anything but easy. He has his own reasons for doing the things he does and Namjoon has to understand and trust that Yoongi knows what he’s doing. 

Although it goes against everything his mind is screaming at him, Namjoon nods at the elder. “Okay, hyung. I won’t say anything.”

Yoongi relaxes then, thankful that the younger has decided to trust him.

The next few hours pass relatively quickly. The doctor comes in shortly after their talk and gives Yoongi a run-down of his injuries. His shoulder is practically nonfunctional and he has to keep it wrapped and in a sling for at least six weeks, possibly longer. He doesn’t have a concussion, thank goodness, but the doctor reminds him to come back if he experiences bouts of nausea and recurring headaches. He looks reluctant to say so but he tentatively tells Yoongi that he can leave the hospital but he strongly recommends that he stay at least a few days. Yoongi immediately refuses.

They discuss proper care of Yoongi’s injuries before he’s finally released downstairs to fill out his discharge papers. Namjoon sticks close to his side, listening attentively to the doctor’s explanations and helping Yoongi fill out the papers he can’t quite lift his arm high enough to sign. His ears burn hotly with embarrassment but he’s thankful for Namjoon’s presence nonetheless.

The trip back to the dorm is silent but not uncomfortably so. They hail a taxi from the hospital entrance and Namjoon helps the older into the back seat, opening the door and steadying him as he sits. Yoongi wants to protest that he’s not an invalid but he sort of is. Also, try as he might, he can’t quite stop the swell of affection that overtakes him as the younger fusses over him so he sits back, silent.

Yoongi doesn’t bother to try and hide it from the others. Can’t, really, since they’re all sitting in the living room waiting for them as soon as they step through the doors. Seokjin is the first to reach them, brow furrowed in concern as he takes in Yoongi’s haggard appearance and his sling. He places a hand on his good shoulder, squeezing gently and moving to cup the side of his neck in a tender gesture, before murmuring something about making something for him to eat. 

Jeongguk is next, doe eyes puffy and shining with tears, and he looks like he wants to launch himself at Yoongi but Hoseok has a strong grip on his forearm, other arm rubbing soothingly down his side. Yoongi reaches out and ruffles the youngest’s hair, lips quirked in a small smile to let him know that he’s alright. A small whimper escapes the boy but he valiantly keeps his tears at bay, returning a watery smile before retreating further into Hoseok’s hold. Hoseok looks deeply into his eyes, tense posture relaxing as he gives his hand a squeeze. Jimin and Taehyung stay back but look at him just as sadly as the others. Yoongi shakes his head and offers another smile he hopes is reassuring. He doesn’t think it works. 

The boys fuss over Yoongi well into the night and he tells himself that he’s too tired to be annoyed at their coddling. Namjoon basically moves into his and Seokjin’s room, insisting that he help take care of his injuries as per the doctor’s instructions. Showering proves to be a challenge and it takes both Namjoon and Seokjin to help him undress and cover his cast so that it doesn’t get wet. Yoongi practically dies from the mortification but he’s grateful for the two of them.

Yoongi resumes their regular schedule of activities, much to the disapproval of the rest. He hides his sling and cast under massive t-shirts and jackets that swallow his slender frame whole. Dance practices are hard but he forges ahead, pushing his shoulder to limits he probably shouldn’t but it gets the job done and keeps the suspicious eyes off of him. He pays for it later, though, in the confines of his room after Namjoon and Seokjin have fallen asleep, when he has to muffle his sobs of agony against his good arm.

He likes to think he’s been managing fairly well all things considered but one practice tips him over the edge. It’s been three months since the accident and his shoulder has healed almost entirely but it still acts up every so often. This morning had been particularly rough and no amount of pain-killers had been able to take the edge off. 

The choreographer had just left, leaving Hoseok in charge of the rest of practice. Yoongi sits heavily on the floor, chest heaving, and grabs his water bottle before guzzling the contents. They’ve been going at it for the better part of four hours now and there doesn’t seem to be an end in sight.

“Hoseok-hyung,” Jeongguk pants, flicking his t-shirt against his body in an effort to cool down. “Can we take a break? Please?”

“Soon, Guk. I just want us to do a few more run-throughs before we call it a day.” Hoseok’s eyes don’t leave the mirror as he completes a step and repeats it again.

Jeongguk pouts but doesn’t protest further. Namjoon flickers his gaze over to Yoongi before heading over to Hoseok, clapping a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Come on, Hoseok-ah. Why don’t we take fifteen and recuperate a little. Then we’ll get back into it.” He sends a pointed glance to where Yoongi sits near their things and the elder man bristles slightly at that.

“Namjoon. It’s fine, let’s just keep going.” He tries not to snap but he knows it comes out far more bitter than he means.

“Hyung, I just think--”

“I’m fine.” Yoongi launches himself from the ground and takes his position in front of the mirror. “From the top.”

Namjoon and Hoseok share a look as the others stare in silence but Yoongi ignores them in favor of analyzing his form in the mirror. His shoulder throbs insistently.

“From the top,” Hoseok repeats lifelessly, and everyone falls into position. 

They manage a few more rehearsals before Yoongi truly starts to feel the consequences. He’s sore and sweaty and his shoulder seems to have developed its own pulse, pounding painfully in time with the music. One move in particular sends a shooting pain down his arm so sharp he yelps in surprise, doubling over with the effort to breathe. The others are on him in an instant.

“Hyung, are you alright--”

“Yoongi-yah, why don’t you just sit--”

“Hyung, come on, let’s all just--”

“I said I’m fine!” Yoongi roars, irritation peaking. “Would everyone please just stop treating me like I’m made of fucking glass?”

No one answers, no one even dares to breathe. Five heads swivel to Namjoon who seems just about as bewildered about the outburst as everyone else.

Yoongi is breathing heavily now, part from pain and part from the force of his outrage. He knows he’s being irrational but he’s sick and tired of having them hover around him like he could collapse at any moment. He’s fine goddammit!

Another long moment passes and Yoongi can’t face them again, not when he feels so unstable. Frustration--at them, at no one, at himself--forms a heavy lump in his throat and he swallows thickly to dislodge it.

“I’m heading to the studio. Don’t wait up.” He grabs his bag and practically flies out the door, heading to the second floor. He flings his studio door open and quickly closes it behind him, breathing heavily. 

His head falls into his hands before they move into his hair and tug harshly. Hot tears prick at his eyes and Yoongi can’t stop the anguished cry from leaving his lips as he crumples in on himself. He’s just so tired and stressed and in so much pain. He knows the others mean well but he hates this, hates being reminded that this only happened because of his stupidity. He was the one with the second job, he was the one who got in that stupid accident, he was the one who forced them to keep it a secret. It’s hard on everyone and Yoongi has no one to blame but himself.

He shouts in frustration, throwing his bag down harshly onto the ground. The action seems to awaken a deeper desire to destroy, to hurt just as he is, and before he can think through it, he’s overturning the small armchair and coffee table with a yell. 

Red flashes behind his eyes and the emotions that have been simmering low in his stomach boil over, running hotly through his veins. Yoongi screams at the furniture as if they’re the cause of his suffering and he lands a violent kick to its surface, once, twice. His desk chair receives the same treatment and he turns to grab the baseball bat he keeps by the door. Stalking toward his electric piano, he raises the bat above his head to strike but he hesitates. Another harsh ripple of pain rushes through him and that’s all it takes. 

Dropping the bat, Yoongi falls to his knees just as the first tears fall. He cries and cries, clutching his shoulder as if it were the only thing anchoring him. He can’t do this anymore, he can’t. He’s not cut out for performing or music or any of it. 

Maybe his parents were right.

He stays there for a while, hiccuping in the silence of his studio. His breathing eventually slows but the heaviness in his heart remains. Looking up, Yoongi takes in the sight of his piano. It’s obviously different from the one he has at home but it’s still familiar, comforting. He rises slowly, taking care to mind his shoulder, and grabs the small bench from underneath the stand. Sitting, his body moves almost automatically into position. Yoongi’s shoulder twinges again but it’s more manageable this time. He takes a deep breath, centering himself, and plays.

He’s not sure what he’s playing, just letting his fingers glide across the keys as they see fit. He almost wishes he were recording himself so he could listen to it back but he doesn’t want to stop playing even for a moment to pull out his phone. So he doesn’t; just keeps playing. And playing. And playing.

It’s hours later when Yoongi finally stops. The last note lingers delicately in the air and he doesn’t breathe for fear of shattering the serenity that had settled around him. Only when it’s silent again does he exhale and he feels different. Still hurting, still heavy, but peaceful. 

Sighing, he stands up from the piano and goes to right the furniture he upended during his tantrum. Once everything is back in order, he looks around the room until his gaze lands on the piano. It just stands there, unmoving, unchanging, just as it always has, and an unnamed emotion tightens in his chest. He lingers, letting the feeling seep into him until he’s filled with it. He closes his eyes.

Yoongi knows he can’t guarantee his future. Hell, he can’t even guarantee the next five minutes. But, he thinks, as he picks up his things and leaves the studio, sending one last glance at the instrument, perhaps that’s alright, as long as he has this.

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