#I BEG YOU BURN ME TO SMITHEREENS

[nyashykyunnie]

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[jeonsweetpea]

Moonstruck (15) - Final Chapter

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

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

rating: mature

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

word count: 10.2k

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

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

Moonstruck Series Masterlist

“Let me go to Jimin. Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“[Y/N]!”

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

“Stop, stop!” she begged.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mora Miserium…

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

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

“Dad…?”

“My little miracle… come here.”

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

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

“But how?”

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

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

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

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, giving him a punch in the arm. Your father, quick with his reflexes, caught his fist. 

With a soft smile, he replied, “In [Y/N]’s moonstone,” Jin dropped his jaw so wide that it almost made you laugh. “I know, I know. It’s a lot. But let’s heal the injured first. I took Jungkook to the infirmary and patched him up. [Y/N]?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Heal Namjoon. I know he’s treated you awfully and you don’t have to forgive him—”

“But he was compelled,” you said, finishing his statement. “So everything that’s happened… isn’t his fault. I’ll heal him.”

You bit your wrist, devoid of the pain it usually brought and lowered yourself to Namjoon’s limp body on the ground. You lifted his head gently, placing your wrist on his mouth and making sure he was ingesting it. 

“He’ll be fine after some rest,” you said, standing up. 

“Thank you, [Y/N],” Yoongi said, though you didn’t bother sparing him a glance. “I know I should’ve told you about releasing Hoseok but—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He nodded in understanding and you turned to your father. “Dad, what are we going to do? Jungkook and Taehyung’s lives are linked.”

“What?!” Everyone aside from you and your father was stunned. God, you needed a newsletter or something to keep them all up to date.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said with a dismissive hand gesture. “I’ll explain that later but for right now, I need to unlink them because if one more bad thing happens, I will turn off my humanity again. What can you tell me about Mora Muserium?”

He seemed astonished by the mention of it. “That’s an ancient artifact witches use to remove dark magic and have it contained. I was traveling the world to find it for you, hoping it’d remove the dark magic and help you regain fertility.”

You glared at him and he cleared his throat. 

“I know,” he said, scratching the nape of his neck. “Father of the year right here. I should’ve told you the truth.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t find it.”

“No. I had to find an alternative. There was a witch who gave me the moonstone but said its powers only activate if a werewolf sacrifices his soul.”

“Oh my god,” Hoseok said, placing a hand on his heart. “You were willing to stay inside the stone for the rest of your life if it meant [Y/N] could have children?”

He nodded while giving you a fond smile. “Anything for my little girl. She deserves a life with her needs fulfilled.” Your dad suddenly snapped his head in Hoseok’s direction. “But then you killed her.”

Hoseok held his hands up in surrender while Jiwoo stood in front of him, her protective nature taking over. “Hey. He was manipulated into doing so to save me.”

“Still. The moonstone is useless now for fertility,” your father huffed. 

“Can we please get back to the Mora Muserium?” you said, wanting to pull your hair out from frustration. “We don’t have much time. Taehyung died with my blood in his system and will need to drink it again to complete his transformation. If not, he’ll die and take Jungkook with him!”

“How did their lives become linked?” Jin questioned. 

“The night of the banquet we drank some alcohol that Ari gave us.”

“It must have been dark magic. If we can get the Mora Muserium, we can use it to absorb the dark magic out of Jungkook and sever the connection.”

“Great. But where can we find it? What does it look like?”

“I think I’ve seen it before,” Yoongi chimed in. “It looks like a sand clock of sorts. Like an hourglass.”

“Yes. But the one I was looking for was sold to a private collector,” your father informed.

“I’ve seen it…” The groggy voice came from the floor. Jin rushed to Namjoon’s side, helping him sit up. Aside from the dried blood from his nose, his wounds had lightened and were in the process of healing. “Jimin’s parents. They own an armory full of artifacts. I saw one that looked like an hourglass the day I helped him get the White Oak stake.”

“I’ll go. Tell me the address,” your father stated. “I’m taking Jungkook with me.”

“What? He’s knocked out and needs time to recover.” Your protest fell on deaf ears.

“It’s the least he can do for you. Besides, it gives me time to get to know him. A little heart-to-heart.” He patted your head. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait for him to wake up. You go take care of that bite wound and rest. All of us should rest.”

Jungkook’s Point of View - 12 Hours Later

I woke up in the infirmary sore as hell. Sitting up only exacerbated things, the pain surging through me like fire. My torso was wrapped in bandages and my arm was in a sling. The battle with the bitch witch would’ve gone sideways if Jimin didn't intervene. I barely made it out with my life.

“You’re awake, boy.”

The voice was gruff, unfamiliar. I saw a silhouette from behind the privacy curtain, but I didn’t feel threatened. I could tell he was a werewolf from his scent. 

“Who are you?”

He pulled back the curtain, revealing his face to me. He was far older than me, with streaks of gray in his hair. His stern expression intimidated the shit out of me, but after giving me a once over, his eyes softened and his forehead creased with wrinkles of concern.

“I’m [F/N]. [Y/N]’s dad.”

“Oh,” Shit. This was not how I envisioned meeting him. “She has your eyes.”

A soft chuckle came out of him. “I get that a lot.” He pulled up a chair to sit by my side, the smell of cedarwood filling my nose. “Look, I know a lot has happened around here. I’ve been trapped in that damn moonstone for months.”

I looked at him in horror. “You mean the necklace [Y/N] has? That means you’ve seen…”

I trailed off, but he seemed to understand what I was getting at. He waved his hand in a dismissive manner, his face twisted in disgust. “Yes, yes, there’s a lot I did not wish to see but anyway… not the point. Honestly, part of me wants to strangle you for hurting her.”

I knew my time had to come sometime. Better him than someone else. I closed my eyes and braced myself. 

“But…” He continued, “You and my daughter have been through hell and back. You protected her. Thank you.”

I opened my eyes, trying not to exhale in relief too loudly. “I always will.”

“Do you love her?”

“I do.” My response was so fast; it sounded automated. I noticed [F/N]’s eyes narrowing at me, like he was searching for doubt. 

“Why?”

If I took too long coming up with an answer, that would only make me look ingenuine. I spoke from my heart, keeping my voice steady even though he looked like he could tear me in half at any moment’s notice.

“For the first time in a while, I feel like I can think clearly. The sire bond was like a crutch that made it impossible for me to distinguish my own feelings from [Y/N]’s,” I said, watching for his reaction. He nodded for me to continue. “Now that it’s severed, I feared I would stop loving her. That it was all an illusion. But that’s not the case. I know I love her. So much that it scares me…”

“Even if she’s infertile?”

“I already knew about that. It does not affect how I feel.”

“What about Jimin?”

I’d be damned if I saw that wretched vampire ever again. He manipulated everyone, especially me. Like an idiot. “What about him?”

“You chose to believe his words over my daughter’s. I want to know why.”

He might as well have broken my other arm. I fought the urge to throw up. What did he want me to say? That I was an idiot, that I was manipulated, that I was doubting her because I was a coward?  “I don’t know.”

“Answer me.” He was telling, not asking. But I was stubborn. 

“I said I don’t know.” I did know, of course. However, I didn’t want to shoot myself in the foot. Anything I said would sound like a pathetic excuse.

“Gonna take it to the grave? You don’t have much time left.”

He laughed at my stunned face, as if mocking me. “What do you mean?”

“Your life is linked to that other wolf’s. [Y/N] mentioned something about the night of the banquet where you drank liquor.”

Taehyung. Fuck, fuck, fuck! No wonder that bastard was so elated when I returned. That must have been why I blacked out after clawing him. Though my body was already on the verge of collapsing from the constant battling. 

“Anyway, I’ll get straight to the point,” [F/N]’s said as he stood up. “Taehyung died with my daughter’s blood in his system thanks to you. That means he’s in the middle of transitioning to becoming a hybrid.”

“But it’s incomplete…” I whispered. He nodded, crossing one arm over the other.

“He needs to drink her blood one more time after coming back to life to become a hybrid. If not, he will die. Which in turn means you will die.”

“I gotta see [Y/N].” I practically ripped the covers off me with my good arm, swinging my legs off the cot. However, he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“You’re in no condition to leave.”

“She’s going to do whatever it takes to save me, including saving that son of a bitch. He’ll be sired by her, which is what he wants!”

“Yes, but would you rather be dead than see him sired by her? Think straight for a second. We have a mission.”

“What mission?”

“We’re going to go artifact hunting and I need that compulsion ability of yours to succeed. Then I’ll consider letting you see my daughter.”

Of course there was something else. There always was.

Your Point Of View - 12 Hours Later

You slept like a log. Your body was worn down, weathered by the stress and trauma the universe kept sending your way. The only reason you woke up was because your sharp ears picked up the sound of digging. At first, you tried to ignore it. But it was consistent and your curiosity got the best of you.

“Put your back into it,” Yoongi said, sitting on the snow criss-crossed. Jin huffed and set the shovel aside. 

“This would go a lot faster if you helped!” He turned around to see you appear out of nowhere. “Ah fuck! Oh my god, [Y/N]! You scared me.”

“Sorry. You woke me from my sleep.” You stared down at the wide chasm he dug, the body inside instantly recognizable. “Is that…?”

“Yes. It’s Sunghyun,” Yoongi said. “We wanted to give him a proper burial.”

“I’ll help,” you offered. Jin and Yoongi gave each other a look but said nothing. Jin handed you the other shovel, giving you a gentle smile. 

“Thanks.”

“Where’s Hoseok and his sister?” you asked.

“Still sleeping,” Yoongi answered.

“And my dad?”

“He went to find the Mora Miserium with Jungkook.”

“Namjoon? Taehyung?”

“Infirmary. Taehyung’s chained up in the caves. Jungkook really fucked him up; he’s still knocked out,” Jin said, releasing a grunt as he dug. 

There wasn’t any more conversation after that. Once Sunghyun’s grave was filled, Yoongi used a piece of wood as a makeshift headstone until he could get a proper one. He had etched Sunghyun’s name into it with a pocket knife and you all said your prayers. 

“He saved my life,” you said, taking out the amulet from your pocket. “Especially with this. I wanted this buried with him but the risks…”

“He’d understand,” Jin said, reassuring you. “He wouldn’t want the wrong person to get their hands on it. We can frame it or you can keep it.”

You stared at the amulet in your hands, contemplating what to do with it. Then your eyes lit up as you took your moonstone necklace off. Last time the two pendants touched, there was an explosion. But what if this time…

“Can you fuse the two necklaces together? I think they’re connected.”

Jin cracked his knuckles. “Easy peasy.”

He chanted some words in Latin, moving his hands in the air around the two pendants as you held them. Then with one final snap, the stones fused together to create a double moon necklace. Jin grinned at his work and then proceeded to help you put the necklace back on.

“It suits you,” Yoongi remarked. The three of you headed back towards campus, the snow crunching beneath your feet. “I’m sorry.”

You stared at the professor, shaking your head. “Please don’t.”

He stopped walking, so Jin followed his example. You sighed, halting your footsteps as well. 

“I’m sorry too,” Jin said.

“I don’t want to hear apologies. I just want this to end. Okay?” You interrupted them before they had a chance to say more. “I know. You released Hoseok because you love him. And you recorded my sessions because I don’t know, documentation? It’s fine.”

The two men couldn’t bear to look at you, so they opted for looking at the ground instead.

“How do you intend for this to end?” Yoongi said, his voice soft, as if you could be set off at a moment’s notice. “Do you… have a plan?”

You dropped your shoulders, not realizing how tense they were. “I don’t know. Dad gets the artifact, we sever the link, Jungkook gets to live.”

“And Taehyung?” Jin said, trying not to sound nervous. “What about him? Will you give him your blood or…”

He trailed off, but you filled in the blanks pretty easily. “Let him die? That’s what you want to know. You’re my professors… Why should the decision fall on me? Haven’t I been through enough?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in frustration. 

“I can’t do this right now,” you said. Yoongi and Jin let you walk away, not having the heart to stop you. 

Namjoon’s Point of View

Vampire blood was one thing, but hybrid blood? It accelerated my healing three times as fast. I was pretty much back to normal after a good long rest. Hoseok and his sister woke up fifteen minutes ago, keeping me company in the infirmary. We played a game of cards while catching up.

And boy, did I have a shit ton to catch up on. Truth be told, my memory was fuzzy ever since the night Jimin and I went out in search of [Y/N]. I remember him being so eager to help; I thought it was sweet. But I lowered my guard too easily and paid the price. He whacked me in the head with something hard and next thing I knew, I was tied up.

Hoseok was able to piece things together from there and I quickly changed the subject, asking about him and his sister. It was admirable how everything he’s done was for her. For [Y/N] too. He was simply trying to protect everyone, and though his execution was poor, he had good intentions. 

“So… Yoongi, huh?” I asked. Hoseok dropped the cards on my cot, retracting himself into a shy ball. His sister giggled when his cheeks reddened.

“He’s all my brother talks about,” She lowered her voice to a funny octave, mimicking Hoseok as best as she could. “I miss Yoongi. I wanna be with Yoongi. I’m Yoongi’s vitamin.”

I let out a hearty laugh, feeling a weight off my chest for the first time in a while. Hoseok whined at Jiwoo’s teasing, and she patted his head while smiling. 

“Do you think [Y/N] will ever forgive me?” I asked. Hoseok stared at me like I had insulted him.

“Forgive you? Dude, I killed her and caused her to never be able to have children again. She’ll forgive you.”

“She’ll forgive you too,” Jiwoo assured. “You were being coerced. You didn’t want to kill her.”

Two knocks came from the door. We all glanced up to see [Y/N] step in, her head hung low. 

“Am I interrupting?”

I could barely hear her, but Hoseok answered with a quick, “No, you’re not interrupting. Do you need us?”

“I… I want to talk to Namjoon.”

I was gobsmacked to the point where Hoseok and Jiwoo gave me a look, as if they were telepathically asking me if it was okay. 

“Yeah, yeah, come over. Would you two mind giving us some privacy?” Jiwoo was quick to leave, but Hoseok gave me a gentle squeeze on my shoulder first. Once the siblings closed the door behind them, [Y/N] stood in front of me without moving. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her eyes pointed to the ground. 

“Sit down,” I said, trying to sound like a gentle giant and not an authoritative douche. She finally made eye contact with me and then in the blink of an eye, her arms were around me. My body stilled. “[Y/N]?”

“I… I want my friend back,” she said, voice slightly shaky. My muscles relaxed and I hugged her back tightly, wanting her to know I was there for her.

“I’m here, I promise,” Poor girl was trembling. “You can cry. Let it all out.”

She did. First it was small sniffles, which gradually became much louder sobbing. I held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. I wanted to tell her so much, apologize for everything, but only after she was ready to hear it. I didn’t care how long she needed to cry; I just wanted to be there for her.

“I think I’m ready to talk now… I have a lot to ask. A lot to say.”

She was sitting at the foot of my bed now. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“You’re you?” I couldn’t blame her for being cautious. I taught her as much. “You have to be you… Jimin is no longer a part of this world, so the compulsion must’ve worn off.”

“Did you…” I trailed off, but she shook her head.

“Ari took him to the prison world with her.”

“Whoa…” I didn’t know what to say other than I shouldn’t be surprised. Those two deserve each other for eternity. 

“You really thought I’d kill him?” Her words were sharp, laced with offense. 

I sat up straight. “No, I just didn’t know what happened to him. Once he was gone, it was like my mind felt clear. Like I had control again. I know you wouldn’t kill him unless it was out of self-defense. Actually, even if it wasn’t out of self-defense, I wouldn’t have blamed you. No one would have.”

She bit her lip, a nervous habit of hers when lost in deep thought. “The only person I’ve ever killed was my childhood abuser. It still haunts me. That weight of taking someone’s life is soul-crushing, Joon. Even if he deserved it.”

Her shoulders drooped as she said the next part. “What do I do about Taehyung?”

Ah. That was a very good question indeed. He’s done unforgivable things, his intentions stemming from obsession. Obsession over her. His past record with his last love interest wasn’t any better either. That wolf was dangerous.

“What do you want to do about him?”

She scoffed, as if she knew I would say that. “I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. You’ve killed countless supernatural beings, humans too. Why do I have to decide?”

Valid point. I was a hunter first, headmaster second. But she was only a student, my apprentice, still a kid in my eyes. Always a fighter, never a killer. “Once the link between him and Jungkook is severed, you don’t have to give him your blood. He’ll die of natural consequences. It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“But he’d suffer.”

“Isn’t that what he deserves?”

“You thought Jimin deserved a second chance. Are some people not redeemable?”

“It sounds like you want him to be.”

She covered her face with both hands. “No. I just—he’s a student. And it’s because of his love for me that this got so out of hand. It’s my fault…”

“Stop. None of this is your fault,” She dropped her hands, a sad pout on her lips. “I’ll do it. I’ll put Taehyung out of his misery, so you don’t have to. It’ll be on me.”

“You’re the headmaster. You took him in. You think… he deserves to die?”

“I think he deserves what you think is fitting. Because he’s the one who wronged you. But I’m more than willing to make the hard choice for you if you choose to do nothing.” She hopped off the cot, pacing back and forth in the room. I removed the covers off me and swung my legs off the edge of the bed. “Hey… you don’t have to save everyone.”

That got her to stop. “But I do… my blood is cursed to do so.”

“Listen, I’ve tried to save everyone. Every student. I see so much potential, it’s overwhelming. But some people can't be saved no matter what you do and that’s okay.”

I stood up, but my legs stumbled clumsily. [Y/N] caught me and swung my arm over her shoulder. 

“See? I’m a natural at saving others.”

It was good to hear her make a joke, even a small one. I smiled. “Ultimately it’s up to you. I’ll support whatever you do.”

Your Point of View

You set Namjoon back on the cot, joining him as you two dangled your legs off the edge. Well, yours dangled while his feet stayed planted on the ground. 

“There’s only one thing I know for sure…” you said. Namjoon placed his hands in his lap, awaiting your answer. “When this is all over, I have to do what’s best for me. And that means—”

“You have to leave.”

It felt like deja vu of your previous conversation where he said he was letting you go. Except this time, you were choosing it yourself. 

“Yeah… you actually gave me the idea first. I realized you were right.”

His tone shifted to a more grave one. “I’ll be honest. I probably said many things to you while I was under Jimin’s influence. I don’t remember much after he knocked me out while we went out searching for you. Bastard tied me up and waited until the vervain was out of my system to compel me. Stole my ring too.”

“But…?”

“But…” He sighed. “I made a promise to you and your parents that I’d always look out for you except it’s not healthy for you to be here anymore.” He placed his hand on your own, squeezing it gently. “You were always the right person, but this is the wrong place. I have to let you go because you deserve peace.”

“Namjoon…” You already cried your heart out once, so you refrained from tearing up again. His gaze on you was affectionate, protective, but also solemn. 

“I’ll get all the stuff ready for you to graduate early. Anything you need, I’ll do it. Just know you are always welcome here.”

Shit. It looked like he was about to cry. You’ve never seen him like this, so you did the only thing that might bring him some comfort.

“I love you, Namjoon. Thank you for taking care of me all these years.”

He let out a small wheeze from trying to reply to you while keeping his emotions in check. “I love you too. And I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know. But I have a way you can make it up to me.”

Taehyung’s Point of View

I woke up to find myself chained. Not only were my wrists and ankles bound, but there was a collar around my neck too. The chains clinked when I charged forward, but I didn’t get very far since they were attached to the wall. A hole in the ceiling allowed some sunlight in, but it did little to stop the cold winter air. At least someone put me in sweatpants before confining me here.

I wracked my brain to remember my last memory. Ah. Right. I was clawed to death, which was extremely gruesome and sucked ass. However, it would be worth it. She was worth it. 

Were my methods unorthodox? Yes. A bit insane? Absolutely. But when you’re in love, you do stupid things. We should have never broken up, but I was overly jealous and she was a stunner. She could have any guy, so I had to do whatever it took to make her choose me.

I wanted her to keep choosing me. Hell, she could use me for all I cared. For sex, for comfort, I would always be down. At first I gave her space, but that was my biggest mistake. A new wolf enrolled into our campus and became my roommate. Little did I know he would soon become my biggest threat.

The human hunters I paid did a splendid job attacking Jungkook. However, it seemed Mother Nature wanted me to work harder because that damn sire bond saved his life. While he was being an ungrateful sired jackass, I was longing to switch places with him. It was my ultimate goal, my desire, to be sired to [Y/N].

So when I caught Park Jimin masturbating to Jungkook’s pictures, the alliance was formed. He’d get Jungkook, I’d get [Y/N]. Little did I know, that vampire bastard was going to double-cross me. A lot of things went south, but it didn’t matter. The end result was what was most important. 

I had finally got a taste of her blood. Sweet, delicious, rich liquid crimson. I closed my eyes, licking my lips at the memory. My plan was finally coming to fruition. 

And the best part? It was fail-proof. Dying with her blood in my system was step one. Step two was drinking it once more after resurrecting to complete the transition into becoming a hybrid. If she didn’t give it to me, I’d have to force her hand.

Honest to god, I didn’t plan for my life to be linked to Jungkook’s. That night at the banquet, I originally wanted to be linked to [Y/N] as a means to be closer to her. Who knew things would work out in my favor?

If she didn’t give me her blood, I’d die and that means Jungkook would die. This was great. Victory was within my reach; I could smell it.

Well, actually I smelled something else. A saccharine scent I knew all too well. Opening my eyes, I saw a figure approaching in the distance past the iron gate bars. 

“[Y/N]...”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks. The large gauze on her neck was a beautiful sight to see. I hoped she remembered my bite for the rest of her life. The memory of pinning her down, the way she wiggled beneath me trying to escape — it made me hard. If I wasn’t chained, I’d claim her as my own and abduct her for my own twisted needs. 

When she opened the gate, I writhed against the chains like a feral beast. She hesitated at first but then entered, leaving enough space between us so she’d still be out of reach.

“You’re such a fucking tease, I’m tired of being the nice guy. Get over here and release me,” I snarled. She didn't respond, so I kept going. “What? Are you mad I drank your blood? That I’ll be sired to you?”

I knew I had won at this point. I couldn’t help but be smug, wearing a proud smile at my soon-to-be victory. She simply shook her head at me. 

“I’m not mad. I pity you. Things didn’t have to be like this, Tae.”

“I agree. You should’ve chosen me. I wish…” My voice was losing its venom. I almost winced in pain as I said the next part. “I wish you could love me again.”

Her eyes softened a bit, like I chipped away a piece of the strong front she always put on. “Maybe in another life, we could’ve been happy together. But you had to go and orchestrate a murder. Work with hunters, a psychotic vampire, and a corrupted witch.” She ran a hand over her face, sighing loudly. “You’re in the middle of transitioning into a hybrid.”

“I know, I’m over the moon,” I said, enlarging my eyes to show her my excitement. I probably looked insane. “Even if you didn’t choose me, I chose you. And I’ll be yours even if you’re not truly mine. I still won.”

“That’s what you think. You need to drink my blood once more or you’ll die.”

“I know,” I said quickly, anticipating that tidbit. “You’ll give it to me soon enough.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because…” This was it. This was my moment! “I linked my life with Jungkook's. So if you don’t give me your blood, he’ll die.”

I let out a hearty laugh, but it quickly faded upon seeing her stoic expression. Why was she so calm? 

“Okay, I’m confused,” I said. “You’re supposed to be devastated.”

She took another step forward and I almost tried to kiss her, desperate for her to be closer. 

“There’s no easy way to say this,” she said. “So I’ll just tell you. I already knew about your life being linked to Jungkook’s.”

I’m sure confusion was etched into my features. What the hell was she talking about? 

“Ari told me. Before she and Jimin were sent to a prison world.” Okay, not even I could predict that. Was I next? I wrestled against my restraints at the fear of being banished. I didn’t want to be away from her. “Calm down. I’m not sending you to one; it’s impossible without Ari’s blood anyway.”

I relaxed and stopped moving, so she continued, “It’s true that I would’ve cried at the thought of losing Jungkook and letting you win. But Ari left me with one last gift before she left.”

That bitch was lucky she went to a prison world because I had half a mind to burn her at the stake. 

“And what was that?”

“She found my father. You see, he was trapped in my moonstone necklace after making a deal with a witch. In exchange for his freedom, the moonstone would be imbued with magic strong enough to grant me fertility. Of course, it would only work if I hadn’t died.”

She lowered her face closer to my level. 

“I managed to release my father from the stone and ask him about some strange words Ari told me. Have you heard of the Mora Muserium?” 

I shook my head. “You know I don’t know what that is.”

“Well, the Mora Muserium is an hourglass that can remove dark magic from people and store it. The spell Ari used to link your lives used dark magic.”

I processed what she was saying, my mind racing a mile a minute. She wasn’t possibly insinuating…

“The dark magic tethering him to you has been removed, Tae. He and you are no longer linked,” she revealed. 

My face stiffened, the smile on my face I once had disappearing altogether. This couldn’t be true. My plan was fail-proof! “No! You’re lying! You’re fucking lying! He and I are connected forever! If you kill me, he dies! Do you really want to risk that?!”

“Tae…” she said, her tone full of pity. It angered me more. “It’s true. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not!” I was shouting at the top of my lungs. “You are sadly mistaken if you think I’m going to fall for your scare tactics! I don’t believe it one bit! Prove it!”

“After they removed the dark magic from the linking spell, my dad snapped his neck. Jungkook’s out cold while you’re… not.”

I dropped my jaw as I fell to my knees. “No…”

She got down on one knee, matching my level once more. “Jungkook will come back to life soon. But you won’t be here to see it.”

“So what? You’re going to kill me?” I spat. 

“No. First your eyes will bleed. Then your body will be consumed in the most unimaginable pain you’ve ever felt. Like pure acid running through your veins, eating you alive inside out. It’ll be as painful to watch as it is to experience and lasts a long time before death finally consumes you.”

“You’re kidding me…”

“I’m not. I can’t bear to watch you suffer for that long so… someone else will put you out of your misery.”

She stood up and turned towards the gate. I narrowed my eyes to see a male figure approaching. He had a shotgun in his hand and a tool belt around his waist. The stench of vervain and wolfsbane from it was gag-inducing, and it made me sweat nervously too. 

“Namjoon…” I muttered. He looked at me like I was trash. When I tried to reach [Y/N]’s hand, she had already stood up and walked over to the headmaster. 

“Are you sure about this?” Namjoon asked. [Y/N] bit her lip but nodded slowly. My heart sank to the ground. “Leave it to me. Go. You don’t want to see this.”

She marched forward towards the exit, determined not to look back. Namjoon stood in front of me, pointing the shotgun straight at my chest. I looked him dead in the eye, slowly rising to my feet.

“Sorry it had to end this way. But you did this to yourself, Taehyung.”

“Some headmaster you are. Killing your own student.”

“[Y/N] was the one who asked me to do this.”

“No! Stop lying! She would never!”

I tried to run towards the gate, her back still in view as she walked away rather slowly. I knew deep down, she didn’t want this. 

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], please! You’re going to just walk away? Even though you know you can save me?! Are you that heartless?!”

*BOOM!*

Fuck! My shoulder was stinging with pain from the poisoned bullet. I groaned in agony but remained standing, reaching out for her.

“[Y/N], please! I don’t want to die! All I ever wanted was—”

*BOOM!*

My left leg was fucked. I fell down to the cold ground, desperation being the only thing helping me stay conscious. She had covered her ears this time, but I knew my voice would reach her.

“[Y/N], I love you…” I breathed. “Even in my twisted, messed up, obsessive way. I love you and I just wanted you to choose me for once. For once…”

I heard Namjoon’s footsteps and him cocking the gun in preparation for the next shot. I tried to crawl away.

*BOOM!*

Now both my legs were done for. I cried. Wailed. Screamed as I laid on my back. I didn’t want to die, not unless it was for her. Not because of her. 

“[Y/N], I’m sorry! Please… please don’t let me die. You’re better than that… you’re better than me… you’re different!”

The cock of Namjoon’s gun let me know my time was up. I closed my eyes and waited. I guess I finally lost.

“Wait, don’t shoot!”

Your Point of View

The words left your mouth without you realizing. Namjoon froze and Taehyung opened his eyes, seeing you run towards him. In a matter of seconds, you placed yourself in between him and the professor with your arms spread in a protective stance.

“Don’t kill him,” you begged.

“[Y/N], are you sure?” Namjoon asked. You looked over your shoulder to see Taehyung try to sit up.

“Stay down!” you shouted at him. Taehyung obeyed and laid as still as a wooden plank. “Don’t fucking move or try anything. I already regret this.” 

You bit your wrist and bent down to the ground, forcing it into Taehyung’s mouth. His eyes widened in alarm, but he drank your blood nevertheless. Once he had his fill, you felt his emotions skyrocket — particularly joy.

“Stay still and stay seated until I tell you to move,” you commanded.

He sat in a criss-cross position, his smile beaming with pure bliss. “You love me. I can tell. I can feel it.”

“Shut up!”

You stood up and Namjoon slung his gun over his shoulder. “You want him alive?”

“I… I don’t know.” You were shaking and pretty soon close to hyperventilation until Namjoon centered you, reminding you that you were in a safe space. 

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you,” He put his hands on your shoulders. “Talk to me.” 

“I… I thought I was doing the right thing. He’s fucking insane, but at the same time… I thought about my childhood abuser. How I shoved him off, how he fell, how he was begging for me to call for help — but nothing was done. I let him die. He deserved it, but that was such an easy way out. He should’ve been rotting in jail or at least atoning for his sins. I didn’t want to do the same thing to Tae.”

“Breathe… breathe…”

You took a deep inhale and then let out a slow exhale. “This time I know about my blood and its healing properties. I couldn’t let him die… I thought I could, but it felt wrong. God, what’s wrong with me?”

Namjoon placed a finger to his lips. “Shh. No more talking down to yourself. You want to save him, then save him. It’s your blood. Now… you mentioned atoning for sins. Do you have something in mind for him?”

You turned your head to the side, seeing him stare at you with such an intensity that it made you self-conscious. 

“Yeah… what are you going to do with me, oh great sire?” He was taunting you, but you didn’t let it deter you. 

“I’m going to compel you to forget me.”

“What?! No. I refuse. Don’t do that, please. My love for you is the only thing that keeps me going. I can’t—”

“Taehyung? Stop talking.”

He had to oblige. Namjoon let go of you, crossing his arms over another. 

“You’re absolutely sure this is what you want to do?”

You gave him a small smile. “Yes. Because maybe if he didn’t love me, didn’t know me, then he’d be different. He’d be able to focus on himself, finding himself.”

You then tilted your body at a 90 degree angle, startling the man in front of you.

“What are you doing? Why are you bowing?”

“I need your help. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, waving his arms around and forcing you to stand up straight. “Anything for you. You don’t have to beg.”

“After I compel Taehyung, I need you to help him start a new life. He’s going to be a newborn hybrid. Please take care of him in my stead.”

“I will, I promise. Look… I’ll wait outside the cave while you say your goodbyes.”

You gave him your thanks and he left, the last sound being the creaky iron gate closing behind him. Then you walked over to Taehyung, who was crying softly. 

“Taehyung… stand up. Let me look at you.” He got to his feet right away and you shoved your fingers in his bullet wounds, extracting each bullet out with skill and precision. Taehyung couldn’t even scream until you told him it was okay, so he stood still and endured. Once you were done, you held his face with both hands, wiping his tears away with your thumb. “What do you want to say? Tell me.”

“That I love you s-so much.” He closed his eyes, embracing the warmth of your hands. “Don’t make me forget you.”

“I have to.”

“But you love me too. I know it, don’t lie to me.”

“The sire bond is complicated. It heightens every emotion. You’re confused.”

His eyes fluttered open, a fire burning in his gaze. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. You align my soul, [Y/N]. I’m incomplete without you. Please…”

You stood on your tiptoes to press a tender kiss on his forehead. He shuddered beneath you, wishing this moment could last forever. 

“I need you to live your life and find yourself. As much as you say you want to be sired, I’d be withholding your freedom and that isn’t love. It’s abuse.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t mind it. Not if it’s you.”

“Shh…” You put a finger to his lips, staring deep into his eyes. 

“No. I don’t want to say goodbye. Please.”

Your pupils dilated as your compulsion ability kicked into gear. 

“You will forget about me and your love for me completely. You’re going to live your life and do better, work on yourself, love yourself, understand that this is a second chance at life. Don’t waste it. After I uncuff you, you’re going to walk out of the caves and listen to Namjoon, who will help you learn how to be a hybrid.”

You worked quickly and removed his restraints. He walked out of the cave like a zombie, and you almost wanted to pass out from the stress. It shouldn’t have been that painful, but it was like you ripped off the biggest band aid. Taehyung had burrowed himself into your heart and despite your best efforts to extract all remains of him, he’d left a permanent scar. 

The sire bond with Taehyung, although short-lived, had set your emotions in flux. The intensity of his love for you was very real, the ache in his heart when he was begging you to not erase his memories cut you deep like glass. After you compelled him, it felt like someone sawed your heart in half.

Letting someone go was never going to get easier, but you had one more person to talk to. Another bandaid. Another heartbreak. 

Jungkook’s Point of View

I wished [Y/N]’s father had given me a warning. After placing my hand on the hourglass thingy, black smoke (which I assumed was the dark magic) formed inside. Professor Min had to ask, “How do we know if it worked?” before her dad snapped my neck so fast, almost as if he had waited his entire life to do so. 

Even though I was going to come back to life, it didn’t make it hurt any less. All I could see was darkness. No sound, no sight, just unbearable loneliness. But then I saw a light in the distance and ran towards it. 

The first thing I saw once I opened my eyes was her. She was caressing my head, running her hand through my hair. Her smile was kind, but her eyes were empty. Almost as if she was forcing herself to be present when she didn’t want to be. Still, she was goddamn beautiful. 

I noticed the gauze on her neck and sat up immediately. “Are you okay? Your neck…”

She waved her hand in a dismissive manner, forcing me to lay back down. “I’m fine. It’s mostly healed anyway, take it easy. You just came back to life.”

I realized I was in my dorm room. Taehyung’s things had been cleared out already, so my side was the only one that had personality to it. I cringed seeing the mess of clothes, posters, and towels on the floor. I would’ve cleaned up had I known she would be here with me. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I died,” I gave her a soft smile as I reminisced about the memory. “Do you remember it?”

“How could I forget? That’s how everything started. The hunters killing you, me giving you my blood, you being sired… you hated it.”

There was a playfulness in her speech that made me chuckle. “I did. Oh, it was humiliating.”

“Yeah, so awful,” she said, playing along. “You hated me.”

“Well… I don’t. I haven’t for a while… and don’t think I ever truly did.”

Her eyes widened a bit and she rubbed her palms on her thighs anxiously. “It’s okay if you did. We were put in an uncomfortable situation.”

“No… it wasn’t.” I sat up with my pillow propped against the headboard and rested my back on top. I leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “I shouldn’t have been so mean back then. I let my pride get in the way. I’m sorry.”

She turned her head to the side, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Why are you apologizing now? We’re past this. Silly.”

“Because you deserve it. You deserve to hear that you were right. About everything. About… him.”

She finally looked at me, slowly retracting her hand, but I held it tightly. I feared if I let go, she’d disappear for good. Something about her hollow gaze earlier left a sinking feeling in my chest. 

“If you’re going to apologize, then be specific.” She sounded exasperated and I wondered if I should’ve said nothing.

“I can sit here and blame Jimin for it all. Like how he kissed me, manipulated me into believing I enjoyed it. I can lie and say he’s the reason I didn’t believe you when I should’ve. But I won’t.”

“What’s your point?”

My voice started to crack as tears welled up in my eyes. “I’m a coward. I was scared. The sire bond ending terrified me. I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore, so maybe I pushed you away. Wanted to find an excuse to hate you, paint you like the villain you never were. I blamed you for things you didn’t do and I was wrong for it.”

No response. She only stared at our hands, so I intertwined my fingers with hers.  

“Please say something,” I begged.

“While I waited for you to wake up, I read Sunghyun’s notebook. He was in love…”

“With you?”

“No. With us. He always rooted for us to be together. In his notes, he put down how much we belong together.” I saw how she was taking in quick breaths to calm down as tears formed in her eyes. “I’m sorry to disappoint him.”

“What are you talking about?” 

She stared deep into my eyes, a grave expression on her face. “I’m leaving. Namjoon’s going to help me graduate early.”

“Well, where are you going? I’ll join you.” She shook her head before I finished my response. 

“No. Jungkook, I’m leaving everything. Everyone.”

I held our intertwined hands against my chest. “No. Take me with you. Please.” I kissed the back of her hand, trembling so much that I thought I’d throw up. 

“I can’t. I need to heal, I need space.”

“Then do it. I’ll give you all the space you need. Just don’t make this a goodbye.”

She pulled her hand away from me, using enough force so that I couldn’t stop her. She got up from her seat and turned her back towards me. Her fists tightened as her foot tapped the floor anxiously.

“I’m letting you go, so you can live your life. Just like I did for Taehyung.”

I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I scrambled to get out of bed, forcing her to turn around by gripping her shoulders.

“What is that supposed to mean? Isn’t Taehyung dead? Huh?” I shook her once to get her attention when she remained silent. “Answer me!”

“I gave him my blood.” 

Her words sent my emotions into overdrive. Anger, jealousy, confusion were all fighting for dominance. “What?! Why on earth would you do that? That bastard deserves to be six feet under for everything he’s done!”

She pried my hands off her shoulders like she was repulsed to be touched by me. “Because I could! I have the ability to heal him so how could I just let him die?! I didn’t want his death to be on my conscience!”

“It wouldn’t have been! He would’ve died anyway!” I placed my hands on my hips. “So what, he’s sired to you now? You know damn well he isn’t going to turn 100 times to break it.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters a whole damn lot, [Y/N]. He’s won. He wanted you and now he’s got you. And what’s worse is that you don’t seem to mind,” I ran a hand down my face, forcing a laugh at the ridiculous situation, but I was truly dying inside. “He’s tried to kill me, he’s lied, he’s backstabbed you, he was obsessed over you. He—”

“Chose me,” she said, interrupting me. “Despite all of it, he’s chosen me time and time again. I let him live because I wanted him to know I chose him at least once.”

“Do you love him?” I sounded so pathetic, but I had to know. Her silence was eating me alive. “Answer me.”

“If Taehyung had died… I would’ve been destroyed. I couldn’t carry that burden of knowing I could’ve saved him. If anyone were to die by my hands, it should’ve been Jimin.” Her eyes darkened, but I could sense the fury within her. She appeared calm on the surface, which made her even scarier in my eyes as she told me the next part. “I’m not sure if you know this, but Ari took her and Jimin to a prison world.”

“No… I didn’t know,” I breathed. 

“So let me ask you this. If Jimin was here right now and I was about to kill him, would you let it happen?”

My arms slowly fell back down to my sides. My mouth was dry as I tried to form a response, but nothing came out. I felt heavy, anchored to the ground and immobilized by her question. Jimin deserved to die just like Taehyung did. I knew that. Why couldn’t I say anything?

“Do you love him?” she asked. 

“No.” I didn’t sound convincing, but I meant it. 

“See Jungkook? You say you don’t love Jimin, but you would save him too. Despite all he’s done. I can say I don’t love Taehyung, but I saved him anyway. Whether we want to admit it or not, we loved them in some capacity. Maybe not in the way they craved, but we did care for them.”

“Fine. You made your point. But what now, huh? Taehyung’s sired to you.”

She held her hand out in a stop motion. “I’m not finished talking. Taehyung’s… not sired to me. Not anymore.”

The relief that washed over me was overwhelming. “How?”

“I compelled him to forget about me.”

I didn’t need a sire bond to know what she was planning to do next. Fortunately, I was quicker than her and pinned her to the bed with my hand covering her eyes. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Please… please don’t do it,” My vision was blurry again with tears. “I know what you’re planning to do and I’m begging you to change your mind.”

She could easily overthrow me, but instead she reached her hand up to caress my face, smiling even though she couldn’t see me. “You know me so well…”

“Of course I do. After everything how could I not?” 

“Then you understand why I want to do it.”

“No. I don’t. Is this my punishment? Do you wish for me to suffer?”

“Not at all.”

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. Please let me love you, please… I’m sorry.”

I was crying so much that a tear fell onto her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away and I leaned into her touch, kissing her palm once. 

“I want you to be able to live your life without being weighed down by me. The burden of everything, the trauma bonding—it’s not normal.”

“We’re not normal. Nothing about our lives is ever going to be normal. Maybe it’s not supposed to be.”

“You deserve a clean slate. To start over.”

“What’s the point if you’re not by my side?”

She sat up on the bed, but I didn’t remove my hand from her eyes. “I won’t erase everything. You’ll still remember me, but only as that girl that had a crush on you. How we sparred together sometimes. You won’t remember loving me.”

I gritted my teeth, wanting so badly to shout, but I knew I had to remain calm. It’s hard when you’re a blubbering mess though. “Erasing even a single memory of you is a crime. Each moment was a stepping stone that led me to you. There’s no point in compelling me to forget because my heart will yearn for you and only you.”

“Baby…”

“Without your love, I’m nothing. So please… stay with me. Hold on for a while longer. Let’s heal together.”

She slowly took my hand off her eyes and I let it happen. Next thing I knew, she grabbed me by my shirt, kissing me fervently, so desperate like she was afraid I’d disappear. It was ironic because all I could think about was keeping her close in case she’d vanish first.

I never broke our kiss as I pushed her down onto the bed, my body on top of hers. The way we melded together was perfect. I was made to hold her, to love her, and I wanted to show it. We were both crying because I tasted the saltiness of her tears as I kissed her. 

There was no changing her mind. She knew it, I knew it. This was our goodbye kiss. So I prolonged it as best I could, caressing her face and kissing her deeper than before. 

Then it happened. She caught me by surprise and flipped us around, her body now on top. My eyes opened like a stupid fool and she put her face right in front of me. Another tear cascaded down as her pupils dilated. 

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me. I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely. If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me. When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me. You’ll remember then. I love you, Jungkook.”

I blinked once, then twice, and my room was now empty. Sitting up, I wiped my tears away and reached my hand into my pocket. I pulled out a small, dried vervain flower and it burned when it came into contact with my skin. Compared to what I’ve been through, this pain was nothing. My moonlight had left me, fading away for good.

Until our next encounter.

a/n: Again, thank you for reading Moonstruck!!! I cried while writing the ending, I hope I made you feel something too. I do have an AO3 if you'd rather show support over there. Much love! 🌙💗

[starrysvn]

for the hope of it all | kang yeosang

“back when we were still changing for the better, wanting was enough, for me it was enough. to live for the hope of it all, cancel plans just in case you’d call and say “meet me behind the mall”. so much for summer love, saying “us”, cause you weren’t mine to lose.”

pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader

genre: song fic (august by taylor swift); soulmate au

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst. a lil fluff. hurt/no comfort (in this part, sorry) (i promise it's not too bad!!)

networks: @cromernet 🫶🏻

author’s note: HAPPY SALT AIR AND THE RUST ON YOUR DOOR MONTH TO EVERYONE WHO CELEBRATES this is my official contribution, i hope you’ll like it?? (thank you taylor for constantly generating brainrots). this was the result of a fever dream i had at 6am while trying to sleep after having just got home form the mäneskin concert. (i might add a third part, hehet, who knows?)

part one | part two | masterlist | navi

Kang Yeosang was never yours, though it had never felt that way. How could it? He was the first kid who played with you in kindergarten, the first friend you ever made, the one who always sat behind you in class and beside you at lunch. Yeosang was your first thought in the morning and the last one at night. His quiet presence brought you solace even on your worst days and there was little to nothing that could separate you. It didn’t take much to see the love between you two – silent, steady, and always there. It all changed the day you turned eighteen, as for everyone else in your world, yet it never occurred to you that it would. 

Yeosang waited with bated breath for the inked letters to show up on your wrist like they had a couple of days prior on his. He had not checked them in favor of waiting for you. The small playground was empty save for the two of you – five minutes away from midnight and devoid of yelling kids – absentmindedly swaying back and forth on the swings. You were filled with nervous anticipation and hope. You didn’t know for what yet, but it pervaded every single cell of your being and made your hands shake lightly. With a racing heart, you felt the prickly sensation of needles on your skin and waited for it to fade. Yeosang, with his big, brown eyes, asked if you should check. So, you stood, taking him by the hand. Once he was facing you, you both put your arms forward, barely breathing, slowly uncovering your wrists from the fabric of your sweaters.

The spell broke and your heart plummeted to the depths of your stomach, racing there with a force foreign to you, as disappointment bloomed in your chest. Tentatively, you let your eyes roam to Yeosang’s skin, decorated with initials that weren’t yours. You couldn’t quite put a name to the sinking feeling that spread through you. You didn’t quite know why the hope that had kept you going had been crushed to smithereens. 

“It’s not you,” Yeosang murmured, finally your eyes landed on his face. His glassy ones were transfixed on your wrists, and yet they looked light-years away from you.

“It’s not you, either,” it was hard to speak through the lump in your throat and you couldn’t even explain the reason why. 

The silence of the playground felt suffocating now, and the muffled sounds of the city around you resembled the quiet chaos in your mind. Yeosang wasn’t your soulmate. The sentence echoed in your head and punctuated the cadence of your every heartbeat. It hurt, it hurt much more than you imagined. 

“I don’t care.”

Your head snapped up, eyes meeting his, still swimming in tears but burning with a new determination. 

“I don’t want anyone that’s not you.” He sounded almost like a little kid, his voice begging.

“Yeosang -” you gasped. 

“Please, tell me you want me, too.” 

In a heartbeat, you made your decision. Your head was nodding yes even before you could realize it was, and all of it made sense then. It was clear as day when his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close and keeping you hidden in his chest, when being surrounded by him felt like home. 

You knew it at that moment, what your heart had always known, that you were in love with Kang Yeosang and it didn’t matter what fate held for you. 

And so it started, the lies to your close friends and family, to yourselves. Deluding yourself into thinking this could be it, this could be your life together. That your time together wasn’t limited to the appearance of who your true love was supposed to be. But how could it not be Yeosang? And how could it not be you? When it felt like the very first moment he approached you in the sandbox at the playground – when you were both six and still blissfully unaware of the love and pain your future held – was the moment your fate was written. Inextricably his; him, inextricably yours. 

It all felt off like the universe had colossally screwed up. But neither of you cared. Yeosang’s promises of love meant more to you than the letters inked on your wrist. It was alright to say “us” because you knew he was yours to lose. Or maybe he wasn’t. Perhaps you were just wasting time, stealing crumbs of him from who was supposed to be his half because, in your mind, you were. Spinning around on a carousel ride you knew exceptionally well had to come to an end, sooner or later. You hoped never. 

Yeosang’s presence in your life became stolen kisses in his car, picking you up in the mornings and dropping you off at night. Hushed phone calls in the dead of night, dancing around in the living room to the sound of scratchy vinyl. Your love was his soft skin against yours, twisted in bedsheets. It was the wine you'd sip at night when all was quiet and all you could feel was him, his heartbeat, his earthly smell mixed with sunblock and sea. It started that one fateful summer and went on for another six. He was the salt on your skin – proof that your love existed, that your time with him was just as real as the waves that crashed into your feet as you walked along the beach. Yeosang lingered like the grains of sand that you found in your shoes or bag no matter how many times you shook it off; you knew he would forever, even after he’d be gone. 

“What are you doing?” He laughed softly, slightly tickled by your fingers running over his back. Beneath the sun, in your own spot at the beach, you felt estranged from the world. From responsibilities, reality. If you had known this would’ve been one of the last moments with him for a long while, you would’ve worked harder to ingrain in your brain the image of his happy, confused smile and squinting eyes under the harsh sunlight. To engrave the melody of his laugh in your heart. 

“Nothing,” you shrugged, and yet you kept on tracing your name on his smooth skin, over and over. It may not be on his wrist in bold black, but you hoped it’d stay in his heart. Yeosang still looked at you quizzically, that lost, soft smile still etched on his kissable lips. 

You were in the kitchen setting up dinner when the doorbell rang. The hot summer air was finally making way for a cooler evening breeze, coming in from the window and allowing you to breathe easier. It was peaceful enough, it reminded you of your full heart. The very same one that skipped a beat upon opening the door to reveal a distraught Yeosang. He walked past you, air somber as if he’d seen a ghost, without answering your questions. As worry began to clutch your heart in its tight hold, you followed and watched as he slumped onto a chair at the kitchen table. 

You were about to ask, when-

“I met them.” 

All air was knocked out of your lungs, falling onto the chair in front of him. You knew what was going to happen now and you dreaded it with every molecule in your being.

“We spoke,” he started, refusing to meet your eyes. “The whole afternoon, actually. And I- I told them about you.” 

So, this was it — the end of you. 

“You know, it’s… it’s weird,” he sniffled, his bloodshot eyes meeting yours. “Meeting your soulmate, I mean. A good weird. It sort of feels like a piece falling into place.”

Honestly, you didn’t want to hear it. Despite knowing this day would come, despite living to see it happen, you wished he would just rip the bandaid off. You wished your head wasn’t spinning, your heart wasn’t being pulled into two different directions, torn apart by the desire to see him happy and wanting to keep being the one who made him so. You wished your stomach wasn’t twisted in painful, nauseous knots. 

Not even noticing that he was now standing, pulling you up with him, you let him do so barely fighting back. One part of you wanted to hold him close and never let go, the other just wished he would be gone already. 

“Yeosang, don’t.” 

“Please, I-”

“No, I can’t,” you knew he was standing in front of you, but the tears in your eyes prevented you from seeing him clearly. And yet, you didn’t need to, not when in a second the space you’d put between your bodies was filled by his familiar warmth. 

Yeosang didn’t say anything, just held you close. His hands were shaking when he reached for your face, but the gentleness of his touch was there like always as he held it. A sob almost tore through you when his forehead gently came to rest against yours. His lips were next, kissing you with all the desperation of someone saying goodbye forever. Hungry for one last chance, soft like the love you shared, unwilling to let go of it. You kissed him too, with just as much fervor, and for a moment unquantifiable by the means of time, it felt like everything was going to be alright. That this wasn’t goodbye. But as Yeosang pulled you closer, pressed against his body, and wrapped in his strong arms, reality stung you and forced you away.

His eyes were lost, searching for yours, for answers, still chasing you and everything you meant to him. 

“We can’t,” you shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut to push back your intentions, your will to pull him into you once more. He looked down, fighting tears, nodding. 

“I wish it had been you,” his broken voice did nothing but cause unshed emotions to well up in your eyes. 

“But you chose them, didn’t you?” 

Yeosang nodded once, slowly, before speaking.

“Yeah.”

“Then we can’t, and you shouldn’t be here,” kissing me. You bit your tongue. “Go, Yeosang.”

But he didn’t move. The conflict was clear as day on his face, wanting to stay but being pushed to move. Knowing his heart was still in your hands and not truly ready to become someone else’s. Not until you let it go. 

“One of these days,” you cleared your voice, trying to rid it of the shakiness residing in it. “One day these feelings will fade and we’ll be left with the same love we always shared. The one we had before.” 

Before he said he wanted you, that he was in love with you. Before you both realized it was more than being inseparable friends, platonic soulmates. Before Yeosang bore his heart to you, and you yours to him. Before every moment spent together became a race against time before one of your soulmates showed up and forced your love into a goodbye. Before he’d have to learn how to love someone else, not like he had loved you, but just as much. Perhaps even more. 

“How are you so sure?” 

Yeosang was about to let go, just not yet. He didn’t want you to disappear from his life, not even for a second, despite knowing he had to. 

“I’m not,” you shook your head. “I just have to believe it until it’s true, because destiny believes so.” 

Silence descended onto the room like a heavy blanket, enveloping your embrace with its comfort. Ever so slowly, Yeosang unwinded himself from you. When your eyes met, all that you shared flashed before them. His presence in your life had been steadfast, yet his love had counted days. It came and went like a hot summer day; made you dizzy then left you dazed and lonely in the fresh evening air. Kang Yeosang was never yours and you were never his. Not in the way you fought for things to be. But he’d always be your best friend. 

“When the time’s right, then,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. His downcast eyes, set on his thumb gently brushing the initials on your skin, were adorned by the constellation of tears on his lashes. 

“I’ll see you then.” 

Yeosang shot you a quick, wistful smile, squeezed your hand and kissed your forehead one last time before he was gone. Because he wasn’t yours to lose, not this way. But you knew you’d both move on from this, get back to what it was. In your heart of hearts, the certainty that he was destined to be in your life couldn’t be shaken. You’d love again, and him too. It had been enough to grow and change with him, to learn what love was. To live for the hope of it all, although you knew it was doomed from the start. 

In the silence of your apartment, you let yourself sit back down on the abandoned chair, watching the orange sun getting ready to set, its golden light coming in and warming your heart. The pink clouds gave you a little hope and abated the hurt in your chest. Your eyes fell on your wrist and, for the first time, seeing the stark black letters didn’t feel like a sentence. Like looking at a ticking timer. You stared and stared, willing your eyes to take them in as if it were the first time you were seeing them. Because the truth was you hadn’t let yourself look at them for a moment too long and always averted your eyes as if the simple act of seeing them stung your heart. Now, you found it didn’t. Although it would take some time, and you hoped that by the time you’d meet them you’d be ready to let them in, you knew you wanted to love again.

Before standing up, you looked one last time. One day… 

K.H.J. 

[whumpsday]

K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #12

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, broken bones, begging, burns, torture, multiple whumpers, sadistic whumpers

@whumptober Day 12: Red / “I’m up, I’m up!”

-

Kane’s breaths came ragged and worn, his arms trembling as he tried to push himself back to his feet. His legs were both broken by now, red pooling beneath him.

The blood-slick floor only made it that much harder. What with his trembling, his body screaming at him to rest as if that was a viable option, the heel of his hand slipped and he came crashing down to the concrete once again.

“Oh?” the hunter on his left piped up, interest piqued. “That all you got in you? Come on, aren’t you supposed to be some fearsome thing? You’re a vampire!”

“No!” Kane cried, terror seizing his heart. “I just– I just need a minute! A minute, that’s all, sir! Please!”

“Go ahead.” The hunter waved him on graciously, and Kane reignited his efforts to stand. If he could just get himself leaning upright against the wall, if that could be good enough–

His partner took a drag from his cigarette, a human invention Kane had come to despise since learning of it. He had no doubt that it would kiss his skin when the hunter had finished it, though at least the burn would be mild compared to silver. Hardly the least of his worries.

“It’s done,” this one argued, gesturing at Kane’s pathetic form as he desperately pushed through the pain that coursed through his whole body, chest heaving. “C’mon. You owe me ten.”

“Give it a minute! Jeez!” The first hunter crouched down, level with Kane, still struggling to lift himself off the floor. “What’d I say? You wanna go out there, vampy?”

Kane sobbed, managing a shaky nod. “No, sir,” he forced out, “I’m trying, I’m trying, please, it hurts!”

“No one gives a fuck. Get up.” The hunter stood back to full height effortlessly.

“I’m giving it five minutes,” his partner announced.

Five minutes or he’s forced outside to burn. It was a low-stakes bet to the humans, but everything to him. He tried again and again, making no attempt to hold back his cries of pain.

His legs wailed in protest as he forced them up, bent at awkward angles as he tried to balance himself against the wall. Blood painted it as he clawed at the rough surface, but it wasn’t rough enough for him to hold himself up, and his legs just couldn’t support him in their state.

“Two.”

Kane choked on horror, his time dwindling. He couldn’t go out there, he’d do anything to avoid the sun, anything–

He dragged himself, his starved body just light enough for his weakened arms to pull along until he reached the bars. Something he could grab, something he could pull.

Kane grit his teeth and grabbed the bars, the silver instantly searing into the sensitive flesh of his palms and the undersides of his fingers. He shrieked, pulling his hands back with a fitful sob.

“Clock’s ticking!” the hunter betting on him shouted.

Three quick breaths, as deep as he could make them. One, two, three.

He grabbed the bars again, the familiar smell of burning flesh returning as he attempted to hoist himself up. He couldn’t get himself quite standing, his hands weeping out and his legs only becoming more deformed by the second as he tried to force them into functioning, but he was close. He could be called ‘upright’, given a generous-enough interpretation.

“I’m up, I’m up!” he cried, tears blurring his vision as the skin on his hands turned angry and red to match the useless blood covering the floor.

“Is it, though?” the hunter with the cigarette asked.

“Please!” Kane sobbed. He couldn’t do better than this, he couldn’t. He just needed to stay out of the sun.

“It totally counts!” the other hunter agreed, and for a man who had smashed his legs to smithereens minutes earlier, Kane had never felt more grateful to him.

“Fine, fine. You win.”

Kane released the bars, torched hands falling on top of the rest of his broken body as he collapsed to the floor. It seemed as though every part of him ached with agony, but he knew exactly how much worse it could get.

He didn’t even flinch at the cigarette pressed to the side of his neck.

[gelenka-daria]

melkor and manwe and heavy angst plz? <33333

i remembered that there was a passage about melkor ripping manwë's eagles' wings off so i made it worse

Manwë won’t forgive this.

Melkor hesitates, his grip tight around the eagle’s throat as it struggles to free itself from his hold. He remembers his brother’s fondness for his winged creatures, the caresses, the loving looks, the pride. Had Melkor himself not harbored affection towards them given that they’re an extension of his little brother? What he’s about to do would cause Manwë such pain. 

Good, he squashes the uncertainty like a worthless insect as his face hardens, disdain deposes the sinking feeling in his gut, coiling with thorny sharpness around his heart and striking a horrible, burning heat into the dark folds of his mind. Has he not been cast aside? Been made a fool and his right forsworn? Has he not been hurt? I don’t need his forgiveness. Let him hurt.

His fingers squeeze and he pulls, tearing feather, skin, flesh and bone asunder, blood and viscera splashing haphazardly, slashing across his face as he shreds the eagle in half and the damned thing ceases its shrieking at last. 

He drops the carcass at his feet without a spare glance before turning to his quivering vassals, bidding them to hand him the next one, flexing his fingers to hide their shaking.

“Don’t waste your breath,” he tells the writhing, screeching creature, and it takes all his might to keep the breathlessness out of his voice, because he feels like he’s being choked, invisible hands closing violently around his throat, “your coward of a master won’t come to save you.” 

Melkor pointedly ignores the vicious chorus inside his own mind telling him that he’s the coward, how he can never bring himself to harm Manwë so this is what he stoops to. 

It doesn’t matter.

They’ve captured five in total, and he’s going to rip them all apart, sans one, so it could carry the pieces back to his little brother. 

_

There is rising hysteria punching its way up from the depth of Manwë's body. 

He’d retired to his chambers briefly after countless meetings had left him weary and in need of some much-needed peace and quiet. He’d only been able to enjoy a few moments of repose before an eagle had shot through his balcony and crashed into the floor, looking haggard, a large red mass of— something dangling from its claws.

Manwë didn’t know what he was looking at, at first, until he realized that the putrid pile of flesh was none other than the remains of some of his own eagles, torn to smithereens and stuck together in a tableau of death. 

The understanding zapped through him like a bolt of lightning, splintering him down the middle like a crack in a solid tree, and he found that he, the breath of Arda, could hardly manage to draw breath.

“Highest!” Eönwë bursts through the doors, the look of alarm on his face only intensifying once he spots the body parts. “It’s—highest!” He bolts to where his king has kneeled to cradle the worn-out bird as it struggles to breathe, his wide eyes stuck to the lump of flesh and bone his eagles had been rendered to. “Are you alright, highest?” 

Manwë can do nothing but nod, before he stands to inch closer to the heap of dead eagle parts, heedless of Eönwë's attempts to keep him away. 

“It’s him.” His herald hisses. Manwë doesn’t grace him with a reply, it doesn’t take a genius to know who he is. “Do not get closer, Highest, I beg, lest it be a trick.” 

“Send for the others,” Manwë tells him absentmindedly, continuing his advance until the hems of his pale, pristine robes brush over the pooling blood. 

“Highest���”

“Now, Eönwë.” Please, he pleads internally, leave me be.

Eönwë concedes, retreating in hurried steps from the chambers as Manwë sinks to his knees and finally lets the pain of it, the shock of it, settle in, grief weaving across his face. He can’t even tell them apart, doesn’t know which is which and something dies a little inside him, a small piece of his heart flaking away from the rest of it.

Eru. Why? He’d cared for them, too, once. Held them, fed them, flown with them. The Melkor he knew wouldn’t do this, the Melkor he knew recognized how much the eagles meant to Manwë, but the Melkor he knew is nothing but a mirage of fireshine and shadow now, born of memory and instinct. And in his place is this…this…this—

Manwë stifles a sob and covers his face with bloody hands. The tears are pouring and he’s helpless against them, he wants to scream, to spark the ozone infested air and put shape to his dismay, make his sorrows into something tangible. He’s so tired, but he is so solidly in his body right now, so prey to its whims and emotions, so desperate to let it out. 

“Pull yourself together,” his voice catches pathetically and he shakes his head as though he’ll be able to rattle the hurt out.

"Pull yourself together." He repeats more firmly as he rises to his feet and wipes the blood from his face and breathes in, breathes out. his brethren are fast approaching.

He gives a bodily shudder and feels the tremor carry to his ribs, to his heart. Manwë feels rattled, like he would be blown apart, scattered across the seven corners of the universe if someone doesn’t hold on to him and keep him grounded. 

What does it says about him, he wonders, that the only one who can do that, the one he wants, is the one who'd done this to him to begin with?

[thrill-seeker-vn]

what are your least fav tropes??

holy moly, there are a lot.

Accidental... Pregnancy.... - Screw this. Like seriously it's the worst and the reactions to the pregnancy are ALWAYS so bad. Bonus points if he reacts badly to it, asks her to get rid of it (when either mc is not in the mental state to do so or was hoping for a better response when he was having UNPROTECTED WEE WAH WITH HER), and she STILL wants to be with this man???

Tsundere - I just.... like beating somebody up just cause you like them?? What are you, my elementary school bully?

Bully x Victim - what the FUCK???

I don't really like any Best Friend's ____. This includes Best Friend's ex (why would you ever), Best Friend's Sibling (this one comes off very meh to me, but like I would find it strange if my friend dated my brother, and we only have a year difference), and ESPECIALLY Best Friend's LOVER. WHY WOULD YOU CATCH FEELINGS FOR YOUR BEST FRIEND'S ACTUAL CURRENT PARTNER???

Sibling's ex or sibling's lover - no way hosay is it okay to fall for someone your SIBLING liked.

Sibling LOVER - get. away. now. get away from your blood relations. Please. I'm begging you. Stepsiblings are NOT exempt.

Uncle romance??? Cousin Romance???? FAMILLIAL RELATIONS??? I'm looking at Credence right now.

Enemies to Lovers - Now, here me out. See, I like rivals to lovers. But that is SO much more different than enemies to lovers. 'Um, he did enslave my people, killed my family, burned my hometown to smithereens so I will never have a home to return to.... but... he's got the most beautiful blue eyes!' ...I will pass.

Amnesia - bruh EVERY time someone loses the memory of their lover I just close the book. This is actually non negotiable I HATE this.

Second Chance - Nah, we broke up for a reason. No more chances dude it's OVER.

[klausinamarink]

klausi!! 🤍 i wanna bombard you with all these prompts but!!

91 "Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it." and/or 12 "I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

or

64 "Can I hold your hand?” and/or 79 "i like being close to you. you’re warm."

am i being too demanding :/ feel free to ignore this mwah! 🫶

dio!!! omg so great to hear from you! And don’t you worry you’re not demanding! these prompts are fantastic and I hope I did them justice for you 🫡 hope you can excuse the slight length and lateness

—

Steve loves Eddie.

It’s a fact as obvious as the monsters underneath everyone’s feet that haunted his sleeping state for years. It’s the truth that he has since accepted as part of something under his heart and bones, but is well too aware that if released, it can be ugly for everyone else.

Even with Robin, Steve just knows that if he even mumbles a fucking vowel, her first reaction would be, “Eddie would not like you.”

Okay, that’s just disrespectful to his platonic soulmate. Her first reaction would definitely be happy gasping, begging for details, using his love advice against him and strike multiple tally marks on the YOU RULE whiteboard.

But everyone else? Yeah, Steve can already see the disgust and contempt on their faces.

It would hurt more if Eddie’s one of them.

But fuck it. Steve’s always been the ‘rip the bandaid off’ kind of guy, especially when it comes to crushes. That’s why he’s going to tell Eddie first, future heartbreak and emotional breakdown be damned.

So here he is: driving down the road to the countryside that’s more farmland than actual farmhouses to the new Munson home.

And just as if the gods are giving him pity, Eddie’s already in the long driveway, leading Lucky out of the horse trailer.

It had surprised everyone that Eddie’s new job post-Vecna was a farmhand for a nearby horse ranch. But there’s not really a lot of other positions in Hawkins that would accept a falsely accused man who now hates the town even more for the witch hunt. The ranch on the other hand hadn’t cared much about Eddie’s history and had been quick to hire him for training shortly after the move.

Steve parks on the roadside just front of the house. Eddie seems too attentive with Lucky to notice his car yet, a gloved hand always petting the horse’s snout as he gently pulls the reins to the direction of the massive yard. Eddie has a gentle smile on his face, the one where the dimples show and gives him a little glow to the face.

It makes Steve smile too.

Eddie just looks so much happier. 

He takes a deep breath and gets out of the car, the chilly November air and horse stink welcoming him. That snaps Eddie’s attention towards him, the smile breaking into a grin.

“Steve!” He cries out with a quick wave. Lucky gives a rather loud snort in greeting. 

“Hey, Eds.” Steve waves back before jerking a chin up to the golden-brown horse as he walks up. “Taking Lucky to a timeout again?”

Eddie snorts, shaking his head, “I swear this horse either likes me more or he’s being a bastard on purpose for his owners.”

Apparently, out of all of the horses in the ranch, Lucky is the more “devil’s child” (which Eddie had described with a voice of an old Texas man). Steve hasn’t witnessed the actions himself, but the stories range from nipping other horses to clomping the front of a vehicle into smithereens for no reason except for an undisclosed hatred to the human race.

So predictably, Eddie is one of the very few humans who have the privilege to be Lucky’s close friends. 

(“Honestly, I think this horse is an agent from the Upside Down. Steve, listen to me. I’ve faced a hoard of demobats but that horse scares me.” Eddie tells him one afternoon, just a week after being the new ranch hire. Steve listens to it all, but his eyes are on the ever wild gestures and lit cigarette dangerously close to burning his hair.

“If you’re afraid of it, then hasn’t it like,” Steve makes his best impression of a horse stomping someone to death.

Eddie snorts, taking a drag of his cigarette. “I guess I’m a braver motherfucker than I thought or Lucky just likes me better than the normal folk.”

I like you better too. Way more than the whole town. It’s not Steve’s first thought and it’s far from the last one he wishes to say alo.)

As Eddie leads Lucky alongside the fence of the pasture, Steve follows from behind, keeping a very safe distance from Lucky and his back legs of severe injury. Then Eddie opens the gate, letting Lucky run into the pasture. 

Steve puts his arms on the fence, watching the horse gallop around and kicking up dirt clouds. He looks over at Eddie, who’s mirroring him but his gaze is on Steve. He smiles again, making Steve’s heart do a double flip.

“What is it?” Steve asks.

Eddie doesn’t answer. He only shuffles closer until their sides are pressing to each other. Then he tucks his chin onto Steve’s shoulder, his nose brushing the cheek. “I like being close to you. You’re warm.” Eddie finally says in a hushed voice like he’s sharing a secret.

Steve almost says it.

He almost tells Eddie, “I love you.”

But the words don’t come out. They feel blocked in his mouth. Like there’s one last gate to go through and Steve can’t find the key for it. It feels like he’s back in high school, fresh faced and still navigating the brutal castle that would chew him up and spit him out.

It feels frustrating that when the perfect opportunity for the confession is literally leaning against him, he can’t say it.

He’s scared now. That he’ll spit it out like an afterthought or say something like “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified” and have Eddie push him under Lucky’s hooves of death. 

Eddie’s still looking at him. His eyes are hooded but cautious. He looks vulnerable. With the rays of sunlight still shining behind him, he looks beautiful.

Steve glances down at their hands. They hang limp over the fence, their pinkies barely touching. He swallows and says in a similar hushed voice, “Can I hold your hand?”

Eddie’s expression warms, his smile turning more tender. He takes off his gloves and slowly wraps his hand around Steve’s. His palm feels too smooth and sweaty with his pulse going wild. 

It’s honestly perfect.

“This okay?” Eddie whispers.

Steve resists the urge to pinch between his eyebrows, hoping to blink away the sudden tears. “Yeah.”

Later, he would finally tell Eddie the three blessed words.

[ryuzatodraws-archive]

"You should have walked away when you had the chance."

With Dracopia and a sibling of sin, the more horrific the better, please, and thank you.

Tag : Dracopia x Sister of Sin Lucilla , some classic style horror goth , angst

This is actually something at the back of my mind that I wanted to do but I didn’t get the chance nor time for it

“No!” Lucilla shakes her head and looks away, she holds the grucifix on her neck as if asking for strength.

Copia holds onto her shoulders, he’s trying his best not to pierce his newly pointed nails into her skin

What would Terzo thinks if he does so?

“Sorella what would you have me do? Would you like me on my knees? Just to beg you to leave me? Or to do what I asked of you to?”

Lucilla can see how inhuman Copia’s eyes are by now. What once were just round pupils with mismatched eyes now turns into slits, filled with anger and confusion.

Copia turns away and grabs a nearby chair, he tosses it into wall easily where it smashes into smithereens.

Lucilla yelps and closes her eyes. She couldn’t believe that it had come to this. She didn’t expect it at all.

Copia had taken refuge in his own chamber, barring up the windows and only entrance with whatever furnitures he had. He had been acting odd ever since the ritual.

“It had gone wrong…wrong …wrong!” Copia snarls and grabs the hair into his head as he paces around the dark room, it resembles more of a cave now with only light coming from Lucilla’s lantern.

“You shouldn’t see me like this Sorella…You should have walked away when you had the chance…” he takes refugee in the shadow, the only place where the sun’s Ray couldn’t burn his skin or hurt his eyes. “I…I don’t want …you to see me like this, what I have become…”

The sister slowly approaches him , she set the lantern to the side as she knows how much it will strain Copia’s new eyes. “I know how it feels like…” Lucilla slowly slowly his hand, feeling the prick of his sharp nails that protruded through the glove. She holds in in her hand, placing it in her cheek as she looks at him.

Copia slowly steps out from the shadow, letting the light illuminates him, his new set of eyes adjusts, his fangs peeking through while his now pointed ears twitches when Lucilla speaks. There’s only worry in his eyes, with fear as he opens his mouth to speak before Lucilla interjects

“Turn me as well Copia…I know how it feels like. I’ve seen it with…Papa Terzo”

Copia retracts his hand and looks away “No! No I can’t…I can’t hurt you…what would Papa Terzo think of me for letting you go through such horror?!”

He looks around and finally found two wooden stakes, he take the sharper one and puts it into Lucilla’s hand. The sister immediately knows, she shakes her head whimpering before Copia places his claws on her shoulders again.

“Can you stake my heart before the sun goes down?”

He knows he won’t be able to control himself much longer, it will only be a few minutes left before the thirst devours him.

“No! I can’t!” Lucilla sobs, hugging the stake tightly.

“But you must Sorella! Before the sun goes down!”

Lucilla’s eyes watches as Copia’s eyes glosses over him, his brown eye now gone into red as he pauses , fangs peeking.

“No..” The sister whimpers and broke herself off of Copia’s clutches, she took a step back.

“Sorella…run”

[draggeddowntothedark]

Kevin's Swan Song

Of all the ways Kevin pictured dying, he didn’t think that a song would be stuck in his head.

Yet here he was now. Knife plunged deeply into his stomach. Mordred staring in frozen shock, like he couldn’t believe Eli actually took that step, went that far. A few of the vampires watching in hungry anticipation as crimson dripped to the floor.

And all going through Kevin’s head was ‘The World’s Smallest Violin’ by AJR.

Eli finally let go of Kevin and let him drop to the floor. It was strange, it both hurt and didn’t hurt. Instinct screamed at him to pull that knife out, but Kevin dimly remembered (in between lyrics) that you shouldn’t take out knives inside of your body. Just leave it. Until the ambulance is called.

But they weren’t going to call an ambulance, were they?

Mordred was begging. Even if any of the words weren’t sinking into Kevin’s ears, he could hear Mordred’s pleading tone, asking Eli to spare Kevin- he’d do anything. He’d come back to the coven. He’d stop causing shit. He’d do anything- at the very least, don’t leave him dead-

Something about that actually made something in Kevin’s chest turn.

A life without the sun… drinking blood to survive…

The world's smallest violin,

Really needs an audience,

So if I do not find somebody soon…

Kevin grabbed onto Eli’s leg, as if also begging for his life, but his other hand was on the knife in his gut.

You killed Obsidian vampires by cutting their heads off.

I'll blow up into smithereens,

And spew my tiny symphony,

All up and down a city street,

While tryna put my mind at ease-

Maybe Kevin couldn’t decapitate the dickhead that was Eli, but he could sure as hell try. He hissed through his teeth as he successfully hauled himself to his feet while gripping onto Eli’s shirt sleeve. Eli, finally taking note of the dying human, wrinkling his nose.

“What are you doing? Lie down and die already, brat.” He tried shaking Kevin off, but Kevin had a vice grip on him. No. If this was how he went out, he was going out with one final fuck you.

Like finishing this melody,

This feels like a necessity,

So this could be the death of me,

Or maybe just a better me-

Kevin yanked the knife out of his gut and holy fuck that hurt- he nearly stumbled over but it didn’t matter. Pain wouldn’t matter in a few minutes- maybe even a few seconds- when he was dead.

Now, come in with the timpanis

And take a shot of Hennessy-

Mordred realized a second too late what Kevin was doing.

“Kevin no-”

I know I'm not there mentally-

Kevin hoped Mordred and Natalie wouldn’t miss him too much as he took that knife and buried it in Eli’s neck. The Vampire King’s eyes popped wipe open as his dead blood spattered out from his lips.

But you could be the remedy-

Kevin exhaled for what he figured was his final time as he sliced through flesh. He didn’t take off the king’s head, but he sure as hell hurt the bastard.

So let-

This was it. One final fuck you.

Me play-

Funny enough, Kevin didn’t really want to die. That was a new feeling.

My violin-

Things were going dark. Was he going to heaven or hell? Depended if he saw a light or not, he figured.

For…

There was the light. Huh. It was hotter than Kevin figured it would be. So maybe it was hell?

You!

The last thing Kevin felt before losing consciousness was that heat. Burning away his skin but rebuilding it in the same moment. Destroying him and making him.

He screamed. And it all was consumed by fire.

~*~

Welp. That happened.

Mordred reformed from mist, his jaw already dropped.

Save for Eli, the three vampires closest to Kevin were no longer there… or rather, all that was left were some soot smudges on the cement floor. The rest of the blast radius had charred skeletons.

Eli, the bastard, had actually faired pretty well considering how close he was to the fireball. He’d taken the same strategy as Mordred, but he’d not been as fast about it. Half of Eli’s body was still good… the other half looked like cooked meat. The eye that wasn’t burnt shut was still wide, the powerful vampire king shaking and lips just barely parted… but he couldn’t even scream. Just wheeze.

The only person who was perfectly fine? Kevin.

He was curled up in the fetal position on the ground, naked, obnoxious hair dye faded back to the natural black color but… fine. Even all the injures from the torture Eli had been inflicting on him for weeks was gone.

Mordred stumbled to his feet and rushed to his friend’s side- holy fuck had this all just happened- and knelt beside Kevin.

“Kev? Buddy?”

He was breathing. Mordred swallowed before he reached for Kevin’s shoulder to try and shake him awake.

Well, he would’ve, but touching Kevin’s skin was like touching a hot stove. Mordred yelped and jerked his hand away, shaking out his fingers. A look confirmed he did legitly burn himself, his fingertips healing quickly but pink and blistered.

…. What the actual fuck.

“EL! KEV!”

Natalie burst through the door, sweat plastering her hair to her forehead, a bruise on her cheek and the magical cuffs still hanging on by a thread. “What- what was that!? I heard an explosion and… what happened?”

“Uh. Kevin blew up.”

How else could Mordred describe it? Fire so hot it literally incinerated those too close exploding out of Kevin’s body… even as mist Mordred could feel that heat. He might not have eyebrows anymore.

“But he got better.”

What the fuck. Just. HAPPENED.

[sinnervana]

Hail Oh Heavens!

Hearken me, oh Angels and Divines, as I enunciate the holy gospel that is bestowed in my hands and how my eyes bleed by the immersion of the sins that I have created by my own; how I have mourned in a burning hell that my voice turns hoarse and until I have no left in me; how my wounds unearth painfully and I remembered how I was writhing in anguish and yearning of the tranquility of the moonlight that serves as my only kindle away from the nightfall; how I have begged the God—Kings of the Heaven, the Father Almighty, the Savior, and the Goodness amongst all to lend me his gentle right hand and reawaken the sanctified wings that were birthed inside me and blessed by the Angels.

My Lord, hark the melodies that I am about to tune;

How the rhythm would mask off all the hypocrisy underneath you; crack in a smithereens of the wall that unveils the truth of a God along with the cynicism of the followers! Lend me your left hand that symbolizes the power of wretchedness that crumpled one's soul and falls into the chasm. Lend me your eyes as how I would turn the Heavens into a bloody rain from the pierce that infiltrate by my divine harp that varies into a malevolent instrument that chants sinister.

Soon, it will become bloody snow that the kingdom prohibited themselves to step on their own blood.

[bambisribbon]

no bc he could kick me down the stairs, burn my house to smithereens, stomp on my neck, and MANY more things and i WOULD in fact say thank you. and beg for him to take me to POUND TOWN.

More of Drew Starkey!!!

[whosjunglejim4322]

Umbra | J.Seo (m) 2

》 Genre: vampire au! Smut, fluff, minor angst and mentions of violence, This story also features Yuta, Taeyong, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Doyoung and Mark as his coven members, hints towards poly x reader

》 Warnings: dick sucking, pussy eating, Johnny lowkey being a soft dom, daddy kink....I know y'all saw it coming don't even yell at me, you almost get eaten by a bad vampire but Yuta says not on my watch, Jungwoo being THEE bestest boy, mentions of marking/biting, masturbation...this is nasty I'm sorry, this story also eludes to action based violence, guest appearance by Kim Jongin

Johnny's self control wilts down to almost nothing with you, a real issue when you're in situations like this, literally begging to suck his cock despite the fact that his immortal brothers are right downstairs.

"Please, let me suck you off, pleaaassse?"

You're too good at this, but more than that you actually really are that desperate to have him in your mouth. He can feel it all around you, like a current rippling around a vibrating force. More so, he can smell it. His mouth waters.

"Fuck - you're really really misbehaving right now," He clenches his jaw as if he's agitated but you know by the way he allows you to stroke his length, by the way that he grinds his hips along with your rubbing that you've won.

"You really want it that bad? Hmm?" He grasps your chin firmly between two of his fingers, eyes low like that of a wild animal while he gazes into you. Your fervent nod is all that you use to reply while you shuffle down onto your knees, splaying your fingers across the meat of his thick thighs.

"You've barely even kissed me all day Johnny, it's the least you could do for me." You're exaggerating about the kissing part, but your teasing smile makes up for it, so does your palm tracing the protruding outline of his hard on.

Your eyes are so big, so innocent staring up at him from between his legs and he can't take it. Not when you're acting as if sucking him off is something that is an act of pleasure for you, like you need it.

"I'm sorry baby, didn't mean to neglect you," His resolve has been completely demolished, smashed to smithereens as your fingers undo the button of his jeans. "go ahead."

He presses his heels off the ground and lifts his hips, aiding you in pulling his pants off of his narrow hips, along with his black briefs. You really are impatient, not even bothering to pull either of the garments all the way down past his knees and barely letting his dick spring free from the confines.

He lets out a hiss when you wrap your hand around him so eagerly, bringing your lips to the thick of his shaft near his balls and pressing open mouthes kisses along the silky skin, ascending. He cradles your face all the while, biting back a groan when you circle your tongue around his plum tip.

You hum while he slips to the back of your throat, his cock only halfway in your mouth, pressing against your uvula. His jaw clenches, fingers clawing at his couch and chin in the air with the way he's thrown his head back against the cushions.

He always forgets just how good your mouth feels, how warm and wet and soft it is. You're so sloppy in your gratitude, and it's so endearing, so sweet and nasty. You pull him out just to kitten lick the tip, and the muscles in his thighs tense.

"Oh shit baby, yeah," he pants, reaching out to move bits of your hair that have fallen into your face. You take just the smooth head past your lips, hollowing your cheeks. "juuuust like that."

You sort of regret looking up at him through your lashes and seeing the downright dirty expression he's wearing so unabashedly, tongue wetting his plush lips while he captures your gaze like a deer in headlights.

The eye contact causes a profuse flutter to swarm in your belly, the burn of lust seeping between your thighs and engorging your clit until it's throbbing. You whine, the sound reverberating around his length as your throat constricts around him, and you gag, saliva dribbling down the veins of his shaft.

"Fuck, be careful baby," he taunts, purposely bucking his hips, only slightly as to prompt the sound from you again. You oblige him happily, driven by the gruffness of his tone. "your little throat might not be able to take all of daddy's dick."

Need surges through you like you've just been submerged in ice water, the feeling starting from the tips of your fingers and toes, the tip of your tongue. It leaves a tingling sensation in it's wake.

Without thinking, you use your free hand - the one that's not wrapped around the rest of his length that you aren't able to reach - and slip it down between your legs, rubbing yourself through your bottoms. It's all too much and you're so wet, so lost in the way prospect of it all.

He sees you, of course, but he doesn't have the heart to stop you. Not when he knows how horny you are, how badly you need to be touched. Really, if it weren't for the fact that you're so jubilantly sucking his dick right now, he'd rip you from off the floor and eat you till you're raw - but that'll come soon enough.

He's content for now, holding your face while you swirl your tongue around his aching dick, and he can hear the squelch of your wetness as you fuck yourself with your fingers. His throat burns at the thought of tasting it.

You quiver, and he realizes the pleasure you're giving yourself is making you falter, and he coos your name. "Look at you," he sounds awed, high off of the moment. "I'm gonna fuckin' cum, keep touching yourself like that."

And you do, despite the fact that it's got you all wobbly and sloppy. But he's okay with you just suckling the tip of his dick like you are, cheek against his thigh while your tongue licks his frenulum. It's when you look up at him like he's the whole world and more and he can see just how fucked out you are, lost in the haziness of the act, that he feels the muscles in his abdomen tense, eyes going black while the wave of ecstasy washes through him.

You swallow his cum greedily, moaning around his twitching length while the sweetness envelopes you from inside out. He hisses through his teeth while you mouth at his still inflated cock, before the floor shifts from underneath your knees and suddenly you're lying back against the bouncy cushions of the leather sofa.

"Look how wet that made you," cool air breezes against your sopping, naked sex, and you realize that the blur of fabric that you've just seen tossed behind him is your pants. "your little clit is swollen and everything."

His index and ring finger form a v shape as he spreads your lips apart, marveling at the stickiness that decorates your folds in wet strings. His free arm hooks around your right thigh and with a simple jerk he pulls you just inches away from his awaiting mouth.

Only one whine slips from your throat before he encapsulates your bud with his soft, cool lips - eyes trained on you while he twirls his skilled tongue in circles around it. He pulls away with an obnoxious, lewd sucking sound before diving back in, and your fingers reach for the front of his hair where it falls in his face.

You wonder how someone can be so skilled in all departments, it's utterly unfair. His tongue is fast, avaricious yet somehow so precise, never concentrating on one place too long and always giving you exactly what you need where you need it.

Even the image of him between your legs has you jerking, trying desperately to fight the way your eyes are shutting closed. The sound you made must have been pleasant to him - you're not sure yourself because all you can hear is his slurping and your own heartbeat - and he chuckles menacingly, pulling back to admire your spit soaked center. He keeps the pad of his thumb against your swollen clit.

"Talk to me baby, come on," he brings his mouth to hover over your heat, teasing you will the coolness of his breath. His smile is toothy when you whimper. "tell me how good I make you feel."

You writhe, grinding against his face when he uses the tip of his pink muscle to lick at your folds, your entrance. "You make me feel so good, so so good please please, don't stop." This satiates him, his vigor returning while you feel two of his fingers abruptly slide into you, the glide effortless.

You're loud now, completely forgetting about the rest of the houses inhabitants - and he has to from there way he curls the two digits, massaging your spongy walls in a come hither motion.

It's just what you needed to be on the verge of bliss, eyes shut tightly while you lose half of the strength in your already wobbly limbs, allowing him to hold you against his face while he eats until he's full.

You manage to reach down and grip onto his bicep, flexing and bulging underneath your fingertips from the way he fucks his fingers into your hole.

"Daddy...ohhhh daddy, mmm." You're slurring on your words but he hears them loud and clear, and a sound so jarring leaves his throat that you manage to pull yourself together enough to look down.

It never doesn't cause an automatic reaction of thrill to surge through your chest, like having the wind knocked out of you. The inky darkness fills his eyes, waterline violently red and you can see sharp, white teeth behind parted lips each time he licks a stripe through your cunt.

The force of your orgasm leaves you silent for a moment, like being submerged under water and all you can hear is the sound of your own blood rushing through your veins, the outside world a muffled melody.

You're still aware that his mouth hasn't given up, even as you leak and twitch and pull at his hair with a force that would hurt a human - but it only makes him harder, more greedy.

The pleasure still thrums in your bones as you come down, muscles flexing reflectively from the aftershocks, your palm against his forehead finally convincing him to hold off. Gentleness replaces his covet, and soft wet plucks of warmth are being spread across your thighs, in between them. Then, against your lips.

"Are you okay? Open your eyes so I know you aren't dead." The boop of his nose against yours along with his silliness has you giggling suddenly, despite the fact that you're still throbbing between your legs.

"I'll keep them closed as long as I want, I deserve it after that." You state, feigning resistance while crossing your arms over your chest. He's Johnny, though, so you're not surprised to feel the ghost of his mouth against the collumn of your throat, his breathing deliberate.

"Can you blame me? You don't make it very easy." He kisses your jaw, down to your chin and then to your lips, and you succumb. Just as he grasps your face, you feel the tip of his dick graze your sensitive center, and your gasp has him smiling against your mouth.

He pulls away, pulling his jeans up fast - but not fast enough - and you pout seeing that his dick is still so hard, obvious and bulging. As if already sensing what you're gonna say, he rolls his eyes, grabbing your bottoms from the floor and slipping them past your feet, up your thighs.

"I'm fine, more than fine. It's just vampire stamina, baby." He smirks and you fight back your whine, not being able to stop the joyous swelling of your heart whenever you even glance in his direction.

Once your pants are on you curl up to his side, nuzzling your face against the firmness of his chest. "Why do you want to neglect yourself so much? Is having sex with me soooooo taxing?" You tease, knowing he's scowling at you for the implication at all. What can you say? You're a menace.

"You're silly, ridiculous even. If I put my dick in you now, we won't be done until the sun falls. I'd rather not push it," he strokes your arms, your back. You wrap your arms around his torso. "plus Jungwoo and I were going to stop by the bank and feed, I'll need to get you home before then."

At this you sit up, his expression neutral while you turn to face him. "Why can't I stay?" You aren't quite sure how he feels about this, his dark eyebrows furrowing slightly, as if contemplating, while his hands play with your fingers.

"You want to spend the night in a house full of vampires?" Anyone else who hears his tone would think he's upset, mocking your judgement even - but you know him enough to tell that he's actually just perplexed, curious.

"I want to spend the night with you, in your room. I know it may seem stupid but I just-" his hands come to cradle your face, lips shushing you with a gentle peck. The contact has you hazy when he pulls away.

"None of that, remember? It's not stupid, I want you here too, of course. But I'll be gone come midnight to go with Jungwoo, I know that no harm will come to you but I have to know that you're comfortable."

You stroke his cheek with your thumb, heart doing flips at the prospect of actually being able to sleep in his room surrounded by things he enjoys, in a setting that involves him more than it does you. You smile shyly.

"I'm comfortable, really. I trust you, and I trust your weird vampire rules too." You're being honest, and maybe it sounds sketchy from an outside perspective - but nothing in your body feel inherently afraid. Maybe it's Jungwoos warm aura despite being frozen and youthful, or maybe it's your own stupidity - but you feel safe, oddly enough.

"I have shirts and pants in the closet there, in the black drawers," he points to a door just to the left of you both, and you realize you completely missed it. "and I can order some food for you."

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him again while pleasant thoughts about the evenings plans begin to fill your head.

You're not sure what time it is when you awake, the blare of the movie you'd passed out while watching playing on his flat screen. It's the only light in the room and between flashes of scenes you struggle to find your phone, grabbing it once it's in your grasp.

12:30 AM.

You sit up, stretching your arms above your head. Once you'd eaten the takeout Johnny had delivered, you couldn't fight the need for sleep, and you're a bit annoyed now that you hadn't stayed up a little while longer. At least until he had to leave.

You yawn, and it occurs to you than your throat is dry, very dry. You search your surroundings for the water bottle you had earlier, but your hand smacks the empty container and sends it flying - a sigh leaving your lips.

You shouldn't. You really shouldn't, this wasn't part of the agreement - wandering off through the house on your own, especially not when he's gone. Your feet are moving before you make a conscious decision.

It's not like he expected you to just stay in his room, right? He would have told you specifically, sternly. Plus, you want something to drink, hopefully they have ice, or water. Of course they have water, dummy. Your hand wraps around his doorknob, and the darkness of the home greets you when you walk out, dressed in one Johnny's shirts and a pair of his sweats.

It's eery, you'll admit that much. The pale, bright moonlight streams through the huge picture windows at the end of the hallways, and you keep track of the turns you're making as to not get lost. The floor doesn't even creak, despite the house looking so historically ancient; a mirror of their age, in some ways.

Once you've arrived at the grand staircase, you're confident that the huge double doors to the left at the end of the steps, is the kitchen. Or a dungeon. You'll know soon enough. You take a paranoid look behind you, into the hallway you've just come from and back down to the corridor, before making your descent.

It is a kitchen, in fact. You can tell even that much in the dim lighting, a huge high wooden table sat elegantly in the middle, lined with stools that look as though they swivel. In the corner you can make out the shape of a fridge.

You feel too lucky, giggling like a schoolgirl whos just found a jar full of candy in her teachers desk. It's a miracle you haven't been caught, but your thoughts are suddenly elsewhere when your fingers wrap around the handle of the refrigerator, victory seeping into your bones at last while you think of the ice cold glass of water you get to enjoy and-

"There's nothing in there that will suit your tastes, sweetheart."

The yelp you let out is loud and echoes in the obscenely large kitchen, your hand clamping over your mouth while the muscles in your body ache with the aftershock of your fright. You turn around only to make sure you haven't just been spoken to by a ghost, almost positive that no one was here when you entered.

Yuta sits casually, perched in a stool at the far end of the dining room table. His skin is like silk in the little light that gleams from outside into the room, and you find yourself frozen; despite the fact you so vehemently swear to yourself you're not afraid.

You see his head cock to the side, only his smile visible from where you're at, blinding and oddly menacing considering the context. "Don't be so shy, I won't bite." He coos, and you unthaw just a bit.

"I'm not shy, you just scared me." You speak quietly, slowly but surely moving towards the table, only a few seats away from where he's sat. Your answer seems to ruminate in his mind for a while, his lithe hands clasped together.

"What are you searching for, anyways? Hmm?" His tone is oddly soft, melodic like music traveling through the air. You answer him almost immediately, deciding to sit directly next to him in an effort to prove you're not intimidated. Even if it's a lie.

"I was just thirsty...for water." He chuckles and suddenly his features are clearer somehow, standing out against the onyx shadows. You can feel his eyes on you but you keep your head down, worried about slipping up.

"Certainly, after the night you've had," he's there one minute, in his seat and as still as stone, and then he's gone. Before you have a chance to gasp at the cool breeze that whips past you, a glass is sat in front of you, straw included. "It must be so easy for him to forget how much you little humans need for survival."

He's back in his seat and suddenly you feel naked, knowing that well, they probably heard, but forgetting that they aren't bashful about their thoughts. Yuta finds it fascinating, the way you're shrinking in your chair. You swallow.

"Why didn't you and the others go with them? Johnny and Jungwoo, I mean." You take a sip of your water, and then other, and soon half the glass is gone as the vampire next to you eyes you with his inquisitive gaze.

"I prefer less orthodox methods of satiating my hunger, blood banks are just too...diluted." You ignore the shiver that wracks through you, humming in response. He leans forward, further into the light, and you meet his wild eyes for the first time tonight.

"Your pulse is fluttering like butterflies in a jar," The corner of his plush mouth turns upwards, pearly whites on show. "are you sure you aren't scared?" His lilt is too imperceptible, and you're not able to tell if he's genuinely concerned or testing your ability to maintain composure under pressure. You steady your breathing.

"If I were scared, I would have run out the moment you spooked me in the dark like a madman." Your reply prompts a laugh to bubble from his throat and the sound is surprisingly gleeful this time, his normally menacing eyes forming into crescent moons.

"You are funny, aren't you? Tell me, then," he tilts his chin, raven hair falling against his cheek as he questions you. "why didn't you run?" His eyebrows furrow, and the genuine query takes you by surprise.

To be honest, you're not exactly sure how to answer. You aren't sure yourself, but you answer anyways. You're here, after all. Turning back around would be worth nothing.

"I don't really know. I think you're kind of...unexpected. I mean, I was told you guys aren't a lot different than him, than Johnny. But it's even more striking up close." You don't expect the truth to be so freeing or easy to say out loud once you've spoken, but you're oddly more at ease. The vampire is quiet for a moment.

"Striking? My my, you are perplexing. You're telling the truth too, so often your kind are deliberately... deceptive...how odd." He sounds as if he's talking amongst himself rather than to you, but his eyes still implore into yours.

"What do you mean? If you can tell whether or not some ones lying, then what use is it to lie?" You question, interest piqued. If his mischievous smile is anything to go by, he's willing to indulge you.

"Out of fear, lust, greed. Nothing unusual. It's only natural to tell someone exactly what it is they want to hear, especially when their teeth are against your throat."

Strangely, he doesn't sound as ferocious as the statement may make it seem. If anything, it's as if there's more than one meaning to what he's said, but you don't ruminate on it. You're not even sure how long this willingness to conversate will last.

"And vampires don't fear? Or lust, or covet." You're probably pushing it, but it's too fascinating not to. It's like being in a cage with a great white just inches away from you, as if it couldn't break through the barrier and eat you alive if it were hungry enough. The faux security blanket makes you feel invincible.

"Of course we do," his thumbs twirl casually, long black nails clanking together. "but you see, we are only living up to people's preconceived notions, aren't we? Volatile, bloodthirsty...why put on a show if you aren't going to finish it?"

You shake your head at the vampire, and he clicks his tongue. "That may be true, most of us do think that way. I don't think I ever really had an opinion, until I met Johnny. And even meeting you, of course you're all capable of horrible things but look at what humans do to others on a daily basis."

Silence follows, not awkward or tense, just the steady rise and fall of your breathing, his impenetrable irises examining you for a minute. You figure he's had enough of talking to you for tonight, and you press your heels to the floor in an effort to get up from your stool - but his cold hand is pressed against your chest before you can get move from your seat.

Your heart beats a total of two drums before you're suddenly pulled behind him, your brain trying to process what's just happened in such a short amount of time. He's almost crouched, nose in the air like a bloodhound while his hand reaches back behind him to keep you pressed against him.

"Yuta what-"

"Someone's....here."

A loud, intrusive cracking sound erupts through the kitchen, splinters of wood flying around the shield of Yutas lithe body while what seems to be violent hissing leaves the vampires throat. Your face is against his shoulder blades and you regret taking a peek to see what - or who - is growling like that in front of him - and panic fills your throat with bile.

The man is unfamiliar and you'd think he was a vampire if it weren't for how different he looks from the others - wild, crazed. His lips are pulled back in a snarl as Yuta shouts something at the creature in a foreign language, and your body shakes with tremors at the sight of the mans mouthful of razor sharp teeth.

Another blur bursts through the kitchens mangled doors, and then another, and another, and you don't know what else to do so you cling on to the back of Yutas silky shirt, unaware that the new visitors are some of the homes residents.

"Take her!" Yuta shouts, and your blood runs cold at the implication, the snarling still ripping from the creatures throats. You let go of him and prepare to run but you slam into something hard, nearly falling to the ground if cool hands didn't reach out and steady you by your shoulders.

You look up, and Jungwoos serene expression sends a wave of calmness through your bones, his voice soothing and steady despite the whirlwind happening around you both. Something made of glass breaks behind you.

"It's okay, I'm here to protect you but we have to go, now." You're pulled to his chest before you can object, getting just a small, nearly missable glimpse of the ugly creatures that Yuta and what seems to be Jaehyun - maybe Taeyong but you can't tell - are fighting off, and you suddenly realize just how scary vampires can really be.

It's like being in a car, a nice car that doesn't even jolt when it passes deep potholes in the asphalt. Except, of course, this theoretical car doesn't have doors or a windshield and you can hear - and feel - the wind whipping around you, whistling in your ears.

It's only a few more seconds, maybe even just a minute before his inhuman pace slows and you recognize the hum of an conditioner, the scent of alcohol and the padding of his shoes against a hardwood floor. He stops completely and your eyes are still shut tight, fingers clinging onto the front of him as though you might fall off the face of the earth if you let go.

"You're like a newborn deer, your legs are all wobbly." Jungwoo chuckles, amused and the sound of his voice breaks you from your fear induced reverie - eyelids peeling open to see where exactly it is that your boyfriends coven brother has taken you.

Violet and maroon lights glow around you, illuminating the place with a neon aura. It's a bar, from what you can tell, the stools and countertop and bottles of miscellaneous substances stacked on shelves behind it. It's pristine, you can see even that in such dim lighting.

"Why - what's going on? I don't underst-" Jungwoo shushes you with a finger to your lips, shaking his head as if to dismiss any of your worries before they come to a front.

"It's okay sweet pea, don't worry your pretty little head about it." You grit your teeth, but before you can offer any sort of rebuttle, the door to what you assume is the entrance you came in, swings open and a swarm of familiar faces fill the space around you, your eyes searching for Johnny in the midst.

He's not there, and your chest begins to ache badly with anxiety. This whole thing is confusing and bewildering and you're not sure what to make of it, especially when no one seems to be answering your questions, talking amongst themselves.

"It was a Lampir, a fucking Lampir." Yuta spits, chest heaving and eyes still black. Doyoung approaches him, arms crossed over his chest.

"We know why, the minute we get involved with a human those pests come to bother us." You see why the vampire had been so indifferent before.

"Hold on hold on, if it's a Lampir then it had to have been sent by Jongin. They wouldn't come to our home without orders." Taeyong reasons. You find a seat in one of the bar stools, lying your head down on the countertop.

"Definitely. Jongin is like, super old and stuff and you know how he can get - do you think he wants her?" Mark inquires too casually, your body alert now, and your need for Johnnys presence becoming unbearable.

As if your thoughts were as loud as your yearning, the door opens once again and a familiar head of raven hair is the first thing you see, messy and disheveled. You're on your feet and slamming yourself against him before your eyes even meet, and at once you're home.

You don't even realize you're crying until he's patting your head gently, then your back and down your arms while he cradles you against his chest, cooing in that warm velvet tone. "Shh, it's okay you're okay, I'm here. You're safe." He's reassuring himself, as well.

You sniffle, pulling away just a fraction of an inch to peer up at him, to confirm you're not going through panic induced hullicinations.

Warm, honey eyes stare back at you and you breathe a true sigh of relief, large hands cradling your face. Reflectively, the words leave your mouth.

"Who's Jongin?" While wiping a wet tear from tour cheek with the pad of his thumb, his expression sours, and you are suddenly fully aware that something bigger is happening, something that you've been left out on. he looks up at one of his brothers.

"That thing...he was definitely ordered." He holds you close and continues stroking your skin, the sound of his voice - even when laced with annoyance and anger soothing to your senses. A strange scent dances underneath your nose and it's only now you realize his shirt is stained with something black, like tar.

You remove your head from his chest to examine the front of his garment, wondering how you hadn't noticed it before. It's in this brief moment that you realize they've all gone completely silent, faces contorting as if they're speaking but their mouths are closed - eyes shifting back and forth from one another.

You back up a fraction of an inch, enough to capture Johnny's attention and his brothers alike, your eyebrows furrowing accusingly. They're hiding something. Your skin feels itchy.

"What are you all doing?" You glance from Jaehyun, who's dimples are on show as he holds back a laugh - to Jungwoo who looks as though he'd be flushing in shame if we able - and then to your boyfriend, who couldn't hide his feelings or emotions even if he tried.

He takes a step towards you, preparing to open his mouth but Doyoung steps in front of him, pressing a hand to Johnny's chest. "Don't. She knows enough about us." His tone is bitter, filled with resentment and your stomach lurches uncomfortably, your boyfriends fingers wrapping around his brothers wrist and flinging his hand off of him in an instant. His eyes are suddenly furious, and again, you're missing something.

"Stop this at once, you're being childish. This involves her now whether we like it or not," Yuta steps in, expression so fierce you shrink yourself, his voice authorative. You're not sure anyone could defy him even if they tried, goosebumps erupting along your skin.

"are you prepared to take care of the situation yourself? To betray your brother and harm his human mate? Or perhaps you'd like to hand her to Jongin with your own hands?" The fury in Yutas voice is unmissable, everyone standing as still as statues as he locks eyes with Doyoung. Your gasp from his statement isn't even heard.

How the fuck did this happen?

Doyoung swallows, lips turned downwards into a rueful scowl, backing away from Johnny and his elder. He sounds apologetic when he speaks, but you know it's for his sake and now yours.

"Of course not, I just think this is all a bit ridiculous. We haven't had trouble with Lampir's for years."

"Do they really make that weird screeching sound when you rip their heart out?" Mark quips at Johnny enthusiastically. You feel dizzy, steadying yourself against the bar, desperate to feel the cool marble against your hot skin. Everything is becoming too hard to comprehend.

"Hey hey, look at me." Johnny is by your side, examining you with featherlight touches. He pulls your gaze up by your chin, and you can't force yourself to give him reassurance with a smile, not even a glimmer.

"You h-had to...to kill it. Your shirt, it's all messed up." You stutter.

"Hell yeah he did, it was awesome - nasty too, fresh Lampir blood reeks." Jaehyun and Mark high five. You hear a faint, hushed 'Shut the fuck up!' from Jungwoo.

"Yes, I did kill it. It - well it wanted you. That's why it was there," he looks pained, walking you to a nearby booth and sitting you down, slipping in beside you. "Jongin is a true elder, he's over a thousand years old and Lampirs aren't like us. They're driven only by hunger and greed, they possess almost no humanity." He explains. Taeyong finds a seat across from you, taking over.

"You see, because of Jongins age, these creatures believe that he is their leader. They're feral, and we believe that he somehow got word of you...and Johnny. Someone must have seen you come over tonight and reported back to him that a human is being shared by a coven." You tremble against Johnny’s sturdy frame, Yuta moving in beside Taeyong.

"If you think we are selfish and vile, you've seen nothing yet, little bird," the eldest of the coven inquires. "If we are correct, he wanted that Lampir to take you to him. He probably even promised it would get to taste you, if the task was completed. He'll know one of his little soldiers were slaughtered, it won't be long now."

Your eyes are already wide and welling with panic, jaw slack. You're not sure what to do with the fresh wave of tension that forms an uncomfortable knot in your belly, Johnny's arms holding you steady as if it'll stop the tremors.

"W-what do you mean? Is he coming here?" You look to the vampire holding you and his sorrowful, agonized expression only confirms your fears. You just want to sleep.

"Yes. He is. We can...feel it." Gears start to shift in your head.

"And that thing earlier, all of you going silent like that...?" You question, lilt more aggressive than you intend for it to be. Jungwoo bounds over, and as always, smiles as if not a thing in the world could tear it from his bouyant face.

"We can communicate through our minds, because we've been together for so long. And since Jongin is an elder, it's like a premonition of sorts - but it's also kind of a given, considering you did rip out that things heart." He sighs at Johnny, and you rest your head against his shoulder, too tired and overwhelmed by tonight's turn of events to ask anymore questions, to deal with the flurry of feelings that are rippling through you.

"You don't have to worry, you are safe. We know how to handle the situation, alright?" Your eyes stay close, head nodding. "Just, one thing," his octave lowers and you can sense the importance of whatever he's about to tell you, looking up at him through tired eyes.

"If he speaks to you, and only if he speaks to you, call him Kai. He won't take too kindly to a human using his formal name." Your skin crawls further, not only at the situation but also at the fact that such a pompous prick is doing this to you, seemingly for nothing. Despite your disgruntled expression, you nod in affirmation.

"He's close." It's Doyoung, facing the door, slender body rigid. You stiffen in your seat and Johnny leans down to kiss the crown of your head, the only reason you're not having a full mental breakdown in the middle of such a situation.

"What should I do? Should we stand?" You whisper urgently, having no need to be so quiet but scared to raise your voice any louder, as if the vampire on his way may hear you and it'll entice him all the more. Johnny shakes his head.

"It's best to to remain neutral, casual. Even though he already knows we know he's coming." he remarks, worried eyes giving you a once over that has another round of questions at the tip of your tongue. Jaehyun snorts at this, following mark to the booth behind you both.

"Yeah, she does look like a treat doesn't she," he says it in a reflective sort of way rather than crass. This still doesn't help your nerves, or the sudden feeling of being naked. "If he doesn't already know she's involved with you, her scent will definitely give it away. She'd have his mouth watering from a mile away-"

A harsh smack lands to the back of Jaehyuns head and he winces in faux pain, rubbing his burning scalp. Jungwoo curses him, muttering something in that same language that you don't understand, what looks so be a scold.

Knock knock knock.

The sound has you cold, still in your seat while the door handle is twisted, from the other side, slowly and deliberately, as if to draw this uncomfortable moment out even longer.

"Not going to invite me in?" The voice is musical and chastising, feigning offense. The door is then pulled open and a figure waltzes through the threshold, elegant and poised with his hands behind his back. His clothing is the first thing you notice, ostentatious and regal, purposely.

"Pardon our lack of hospitality, we unfortunately had to kill one of your pets." Yuta stands, and leisurely strolls towards the bronze, man and you realize that Yuta must be the only one old enough to address him so informally. The others stay put.

"Hmm....what a pity, I must say. I see your plaything is here," His dark eyes flit towards you like a snake, and his gaze is something you can't avoid. It's not like the others, this time it's like a magnetized force, and your body feels as if it's been pumped with morphine, though you're still very much conscious and aware. "come, I'd like to get a good look at you."

"Please, don't do that." Johnny growls, and the beautiful man chuckles, a lively sound that matches his youthful exterior, the malice hidden underneath such a pleasant mask.

"She hasn't been tainted with your blood, I see. Her mind is still susceptible...how very intriguing." The vampire tilts his head curiously, tapping his foot impatiently. "must I ask again?" The tension is only adding to his fascination and he breaks eye contact to glance at Yuta, enough time for you to squeeze Johnny's hand and give him a reassured nod.

It won't do anyone any good to sit here and defy the man anyways, and you aren't as scared as you should be, as always. Whatever happens, happens. Though you're confident that it won't be without a fight from the six other vampires in the room. Maybe minus Doyoung.

Johnny looks even more agonized than before, reluctantly slipping from the booth, hand still in yours as he allows you to walk towards Jongin. Kai. Call him Kai. Only if he speaks to you. Your boyfriends word repeats like a mantra as the excitment rolls off of Kai in rivulets.

Once in front of him he stares at Johnny's hand in yours, and the touch is abruptly gone, arm swinging lonesome by your side. Kai is tall, and his energy is as captivating as it is terrifying, in many ways. Knowing he sent that creature than almost attacked you earlier...

The breath leaves your lungs as the vampires smooth, golden face appears in front of your face in just one blink of your eyes, before he moves it to the side of your neck - hovering his nose over your throat.

Your pulse is hammering but there's nothing you can do about it, even as he takes a deep and dramatic inhale before blowing cold air against your skin. He hums, a content sound.

"It's so strange...surely if you're associating yourself with seven vampires you'd be at least a little marked up," he stands to his full stature, supple hand reaching out as he extends his index finger and traces the apple of your cheek. You remain outwardly calm, steady.

"But you are just as perfect as a rose petal, aren't you? And you only smell of that tall one." The gears shift in his head and something in his irises flickers, as he glances towards Johnny, sending shivers down your spine. The whole room senses it, you can even tell and you aren't immortal. Kai's stare feels as though it might burn right through you, but Yuta's velvet voice distinguishes the burn.

"She's marked, they're just not visible. We haven't all had the chance to mark her yet, I'm sure you know how those bonds can take some time."

Your thundering heartbeat pauses for just a fraction of a second, the absolute unequivocal tone in his voice giving you whiplash. Kai's neat, dark eyebrows raise, in what seems to be genuine surprise. Yuta steps closer, as does Johnny. A presence walks behind you as well but you aren't sure who it is just yet.

"Marked...you say? So this human..." Jongin smirks devilishly and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, soothed quickly by Yuta's touch against your nape. The presence behind you is Doyoung, you're also able to conclude, as his melodic voice is the next to speak.

"Ours. The human is ours." His tone is so factual, so unequivocal that for a moment you wonder where these acting skills even came from. Not even five minutes ago he was giving you the stare of death, now he presses himself closer to your back, Johnny on your side opposite to Yuta.

Jongin tongues his cheek, utterly fascinated. Something falls over the energy in the room and it's oddly safe, the old vampires shoulders slumping only slightly, eyes still lit with animation.

"She must melt in your mouth, to be so fawned over by seven immortals. Hmm...if only you weren't claimed, this sure put a damper on things," He pouts like a child, one hand perched underneath his chin whole the other arm wraps around his torso. He takes a step back and examines you, licking his gums.

"I surely would have had my Lampir take you to me instead of ripping you apart for himself. What an unfortunate set of circumstances." For the first time, you're genuinely disturbed by a vampire, and Yutas hand soothingly massages your skin, ever so slightly. The movement probably wouldn't be perceptible to others, if it weren't for the fact that the room is filled with supernatural creatures.

"This means that the meaning for your visit has been concluded? Has it not?" Johnny asks, jaw clenched and teeth gritting together. You can tell this is winding him up, that the tips of his ears would be red right about now if possible.

Jongin sighs dramatically, placing his hands on his hips while he gives you all a once over, smiling wickedly to himself. "For now, I'll leave you be. This whole ordeal has gotten me so thirsty...I'll enjoy my variety for now. You all enjoy your little bunny," he extends his hand towards you, stroking your cheek one last time. "hope you're all at least giving her a break between turns."

Your skin burns hot and he giggles, twiddling his fingers in goodbye as he turns his back, expression neutral before he disappears from the room. The front door swings idly in the wake of his dash.

You let out a breath, finally able to think somewhat clearly as the blood returns to your limbs. Johnny's arm is around your waist at once and you're suddenly so used to Yuta's touch that it feels odd when he lets his hand drop, lingering for only a moment. You bury your face in Johnny's chest, relieved, as sketchy as Jongins behavior might have been.

"I need a drink." Jungwoo muses, and the statement brings you somewhat back to current reality, though you refuse to move from Johnny's arms. Your voice is muffled against him.

"Where are we?" You hadn't had the chance to think if it previously, too busy like, fearing for your life and all.

"This is our place, you're looking at bartender number three baby," Jaehyun boasts, and you're amused by the way he's so proud of it, Mark rolling his eyes. You look up at your boyfriend, incredulous.

"You guys...own a bar? Why didn't you tell me?" You're past the point of being angry, stupidly perhaps but after tonight you've realized that a lot of things stay hidden for good reason, as irked as it makes you. You're somewhat grateful that things are coming to light later than never.

"Yeah, we do. We own a few actually, they're not normal bars, of course. This ones Umbra, Yuta's." He looks a bit shameful, as if expecting you to be angry, or even sad. Deep down, maybe you should be, but in reality, you and Johnny have been so caught up in each other this past year, you understand how things have ended up this way.

"Can vampires even get drunk?" You ponder, and Taeyong shares a fleeting, humorous look with Doyoung, who smiles for the first time since you've met him. He looks like a completely different person, like that.

"Dude, yeah they can. It's kind of a vampire set back, imbedded in our DNA by whatever created us - after drinking a certain amount of blood we can get fuuuucked up." Mark explains with exaggerated hand motions, and you can feel Johnny sigh. You wish he weren't so abstinent about telling you all of this.

"It's a lot more than that." Taeyong cuts in, though your yawn has Johnny suddenly cupping your cheek, his tone gentle and soft. "Hey, there's a bed upstairs. Or, I can take you home, I understand if-" you yawn again, slumping yourself against him. Exhaustion is beginning to weigh you down.

"Shhh, I'm fine now. Wanna go upstairs." Your eyes are already closed and his large hands are quick to scoop you from the back of your knees, pulling you into his arms. You wrap yourself around his neck, breath against his throat.

"She's staying here tonight," one minute you're hearing the chatter of the rest of his brothers around you, and the next, silence is all you are able to perceive other than the low timbre of a pair of voices.

"listen I don't know if the house is secure, I wouldn't put it past Jongin to pull something. I don't want to leave her but-" Johnny sounds conflicted, the urgency in his voice perceptible even through the haze of the first stages of sleep.

"I'll watch over her. Jungwoo will be with me, Doyoung and the youngest can get everything repaired, there's enough of a mess to clean."

Your back meets plushness, so soft you're curling against it on instinct pleased to be met with a fluffy comforter, thick and warm.

"Listen I...I want to say thankyou, for what you've done. I'm only saying this because I could feel what you were feeling, and I know that it was genuine," you almost wonder if you're dreaming. You feel like you're eavesdropping on a conversation you're not supposed to hear, despite the fact that they're speaking in front of you.

"I'm not the most thrilled that the first human you've been even remotely generous towards, is the one I love or course. But I can tell she's safe, and comfortable with you. And that's what matters." There's a silence for a second.

"I can't pretend that I'm a changed creature over night, but I will say that she is somewhat pleasant to be around." You'd smile if you weren't already half asleep, faintly aware of the soft stroke to the back of your arm. Johnny.

"I could feel...her, too, you know. It's more than just seeing, she's not scared around you as I thought she would be," you wish you could the sleep that's consuming you, because this part of the weird dreamy haze has you a bit embarrassed, perplexed, even.

"Just keep her safe. Whatever she wants, that's what goes. I'm sure she has a lot of questions, and I'll be back in the morning to answer them."

This time, you're down for the count, a scene already beginning to unfold in your mind, the onset of a vibrant dream. Somewhere in the back of of your mind, your conscious tries to make sense of the picture, of what exactly it means.

Surely, your mind is playing tricks on you.

[kateis-cakeis]

Alivebur Saw Himself As A Villain... For A Reason

btw: suicide tw

SO, hi, hello, you are not ready for all I’m about to say.

The other night I was thinking about why, Alivebur, the character bound to literary devices in the way he was - always referring to Chekhov’s Gun - would see himself as a villain and not like, an anti-hero.

Because blowing up L’Manberg was a bad thing to do, but he saw it as right to avoid more bloodshed: 

“Okay, me and you, we both agree we’re right. We’re in the right here.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 16:27)

and

“Look, do you know how much blood was shed to get L’Manberg to the point it was at? You know what would happen if we manage to get L’Manberg back again? More blood would be shed, and we would be the illegitimate rulers of a nation.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 18:52)

So ultimately, in Alivebur’s own unreliable narration of the story, he would surely see himself as the anti-hero, since avoiding another war by blowing up L’Manberg would be a sorta... noble thing to do.

But then I realised, he had to get others to see him as a villain.

Why?

“Tommy, none of us know what we’re doing. We’re fucked, we were fucked the minute we were thrown out.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 19:39)

Because Alivebur... Alivebur may have wanted to die the second he was exiled.

Just look at how he acted after running. He was speechless, quiet for a long time, he said:

“Tommyinnit, I am a slow burning fuse. I am a long slow burning fuse, but I’m telling you now, over the next couple weeks, I am gonna be a different man than the one JSchlatt crossed. I can feel it.” - (Wilbur’s The Election Results: 52:31, 22nd Sep)

He maintained that he was a bad guy, once he thought Schlatt was doing better for the nation than he had.

“It feels like we’re the bad guys, Tommy. This doesn’t feel correct.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 15:49)

And the way he says it, suggests that he’s thinking from an outside perspective. 

“Then let’s be the bad guys. Tommy, why not? Why not? Look, our nation’s gone, our nation’s far behind us, Tommy. Let’s blow that motherfucker to smithereens.” - (Wilbur’s video Am I the Villain?: 16:33)

This too ^ it feels like he’s thinking from how others will see this.

And then, this quote got me thinking:

“This isn’t about me, this is about blowing up Manberg, this is about just finishing it. We’ve got this! Look, Tommy, what else do I need to convince you? The festival was a front.” - (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:15:47, 16th Oct)

It ties all this into a neat bow, because of the ‘This is about just finishing it’. But we know now that finishing it did not just pertain to L’Manberg, it was referring to himself too. 

Finishing it meant himself, and that seems like a priority. Blowing it up. Finishing it.

Alivebur pushed towards being a villain, not only to end L'Manberg, but to end himself....

If everyone hates him for taking away their home, then someone would kill him....

Alivebur knew fine well he wasn't going to survive the 16th of November. It’s clear in the way he acts, constantly telling everyone he’s the traitor, wearing no armour in the battle (which is the opposite to the Independence War where he willingly wears armour for the fight), telling Tommy he was gonna hate him.

But it was blowing up L’Manberg that got him there. As if he couldn’t die until it was gone. And it’s a quote from the festival that really makes this clear: 

“I thought today was gonna be my last time here, honestly. I genuinely, I was considering, blowing up L’Manberg, having a big moment where I’m like looking over the rubble, and I’m like ‘I’ve changed as a person’. But like after this, I am just deeper. I wanna do different, more blowing up things.” (Wilbur’s The Festival: 1:29:34, 16th Oct)

This suggests that if he blew it up during the festival, then he would have died on the 16th of October. 

Because, consider this part of the line: “Having this big moment where I’m looking over the rubble, and I’m like ‘I’ve changed as a person’.”

And what does he do on the 16th of November?

He looks over the rubble, shouting about his unfinished symphony, and throws his sword over to Phil, begging to be killed. If that doesn’t encapsulate having a big moment and knowing he’s changed, I don’t know what does.

He used L’Manberg blowing up, him doing that, to justify his death. Maybe he just... couldn't pick up the sword himself and do it, he needed someone to do it for him.

Perhaps his long burning fuse was metaphorically connected to the TNT that blew up, his suicide.

This also ties in with how Alivebur had connected himself to L’Manberg so fully. It was his ideals, it was what he put himself up to fight for, what he started. Sure, Tommy was there too, but Alivebur lived there from the start, it was his entire life on the SMP, the second he lost that... the second it became as shadow of itself...

That was the second Alivebur decided to be seen as a villain so he could do whatever he wanted and blow it up, killing it so that he could die himself (props to @bryzy-mc for pointing that out to me).

Like he said, he had nothing to lose, and he really didn't, he'd lost everything, even his son! (Since he didn't know he was a spy.)

He knew pressing that button would change everything, would make him that villain he so desperately wanted to be seen as. And the second it happened, was the second he could beg for death, and get it. 

Alivebur is a character who connected his life to literary devices, he knows story telling, he knows the quickest way to get killed off is to do something bad and ask a hero character to kill him... (See Ghostbur calling Phil St George for slaying Alivebur.)

After all, it makes it easier for the other characters and the audience to accept it.

On the 16th of November, we all watched Alivebur carry out his own murder (props to @bryzy-mc again for that), one he had been planning for an entire month. No wonder he looked so happy when he blew up L’Manberg, he knew his idea of ‘peace’ was coming, after all... he says it himself on the 20th of January:

“Ohhhhhhh my god…! I was so free! I was liberated.” - (Tommy’s The Dream SMP Finale: 1:32:30, 20th Jan)

He saw his death as freedom, as being liberated. In the end, he only ever wanted peace, and he turned to dying to achieve that. It wasn’t a good end, nobody ever wants to die, and maybe... if the resurrection goes well, his story can show us that life matters.

Maybe he can find true peace in life, and wouldn't that be hopeful? 

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter 11

The big one! This literally took weeks to complete. I wanted it to be done.

We are inching ever closer to the end of this arc. Two more chapters I think.

This one is much longer than the recent ones, but don’t worry. That theme most likely won’t continue.

Warnings: // non-explicit blood, violence, and injury, Major Character Death(s) \\

Scar called upon all of his allies on an exceptionally cold evening, a wicked blizzard was blowing through the server as Scott walked hand in hand with Jimmy through the white-out. Even the desert wasn’t spared from the stirring storm.

A broken line of lights were ascending up Monopoly Mountain, all headed to the same meeting.

When everyone had arrived, warm drinks were passed around. Cleo, Bdubs, Tango, Scott, Jimmy, Grian, and the resident Enderman were huddled in the living area.

Scott was biting his nails, so to speak. He was pretty sure he knew what they were there for; and he was not excited. He sat next to Jimmy and begged that the Red Desert wasn’t going to start a war with Dogwarts. It was going to happen sooner or later, everyone knew that, but Scott felt an ounce of selfishness.

Things were going so well.

He was starting to feel like he was on the wrong side of history. Sitting in that room, Scott had been to Dogwarts after Grain and Scar had tried to burn Skiz’s banner. He was in the room when they started talking about war; and here he was again. In a room talking about war.

He was there for quiet conversations about nonstop threats from Scar and Grian, how they were going to protect themselves, and questioning why it had to be them.

Pizza was dead. The air was unstable, everyone could feel it.

Scar began talking about a plan to trap the Sand Castle. Grian was confident that their new bunker would protect them well enough and had even started moving their things out. Dogwarts was to be baited into the castle where Scar would be waiting for them, to pull the trigger and blow the entire building to smithereens with the Red Army inside.

The thought of it made Scott’s insides turn. He’d already jeopardized his entire mission by falling for Dogwarts, becoming their friend when he was supposed to hate them, he kicked up the dirt when he suggested that Etho’s house was flammable, another slip up and the house of cards he’d built could be pulled down around him.

The whole meeting Scott just sat on the couch feeling sick. Too cowardly to say it was wrong. When he knew it was wrong. Like always, he let someone else steer his life for him. Scott watched as everyone agreed and started leaving. A feeling of distance fell upon him as he walked back home, Jimmy in the lead this time.

Tomorrow. He only had until tomorrow to decide whose side he was on. Scott stared at the ceiling in bed, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing a second of sleep when his pager started beeping. Already knowing who it was, Scott quietly left the house once more.

Dogwarts was eerily silent on top, but a quiet conversation emitted from the living quarters. Every member was sat around the room conversing with each other about their plan of attack. Tango shot him a glance when he entered the room, his eyes went wide and he excused himself from his conversation with Joel.

“Scott?” He whispered scoldingly when he was close enough, shoving the other to the most empty side of the room.

“I can’t do this Tango, I’m telling them,” Scott whispered.

“What? No, no, no, you can’t back out now! My god- Scott how could you even come here?” Tango hissed through his teeth.

“This is wrong! You know it’s wrong! I can’t just stand by anymore, I can’t do this to them,” Scott tried to keep his composure. He pleaded.

“And what about the others? What about you? Us?” Tango asked, his face was pale.

Scott closed his eyes, he’d done everything in his power to give as little information as he could about the Red Desert Alliance to Dogwarts. He wanted to protect people, of course, but he knew there was no escaping the war. Even if he didn’t say anything tonight. Something would happen tomorrow.

His friends were wrong, he’d grown enough to see that.

“I’m sorry,” he said, drowning out the lump in his throat and turning away from Tango, who yanked his sleeve in a last ditch effort. It was too late.

Scott strode over to Ren, tapping him on the shoulder. The Red King looked down, dismissing Etho and addressing Scott.

“Hey dude,” he greeted.

Scott’s hands shook as he formulated his admission, “The Red Desert is going to war with you tomorrow,” he said. Plain and simple.

The horrific shock on Tango and Impulse’s faces could easily be read as concern for the Red Army.

Scott felt like he shrunk to the size of an atom as everyone took turns looking at each other. Ren brought a steady hand to his chin, resting it on his knuckles in thought. The lights glared pure white off his glasses.

He walked to the table in the middle of the room and gazed upon the map, leaning over it to ponder. Scott fell back against the wall, his heart was pounding in his ears. He wasn’t even paying attention when Ren started firing off about their plan of action.

He wasn’t listening when Tango yelled at him on the way home. All he could think about was what the hell he was going to do now.

The jig was certainly going to be up tomorrow. Someone was going to be accused of spying, and when one of them went down, so would the rest.

What would Jimmy think of him? Should he just come clean? Admit to joining the Red Army on accident and let him figure out how he felt about it?

It didn’t matter. Scott had three hours to rest his eyes, and spend possibly the last peaceful night he would ever have with his husband.

The morning was spent mostly in silence. Scott gathered his weapons and stocked his arsenal with potions. He stared at the wall and went over the situation in his head. Preparing goodbyes, apology speeches, everything he could think of that might go wrong.

“Hey,” Jimmy came up behind him, taking a fire resistant potion out of his hand, “I was scared you were gonna drop it if you floated away any further,” he sat down on the workbench.

“Are you scared?” he asked, taking Scott’s hand and interlocking their fingers.

Scott closed his eyes, leaning his head on Jimmy’s shoulder. He nodded his head, not in the mood to lie.

“So am I,” Jimmy confessed, “just promise me something?” he tucked Scott’s stray hairs behind his ears.

“No goodbyes,” he said. As if he was swearing it into existence.

Scott nodded, doing his best to smile optimistically. He held out his pinkie finger in a gesture of promise. Jimmy hooked his own pinkie around it and shook it a bit, leaning forwards to touch foreheads with the other before leaving to get his armor.

They left at dawn and shivered all the way to the Red Desert. It was exceptionally cold that morning. Like the weather was also fighting in their war. A small group of people was gathered at the bottom of Monopoly Mountain. Most of them were sat sharpening their weapons and counting their arrows. Scott spotted Tango and shot him the most apologetic look he could manage before excusing himself to talk to him.

“Tango,” Scott started.

“You know they’re going to be here any second,” Tango said, “so why don’t you tell us about the plan like you did for them?”

Scott was making his mind up about what he should say when an arrow shot into the sand near his feet. He looked up, scanning the tree line.

It was too late.

Everyone gathered on the sand snapped to attention, drawing their weapons and forming a group opposite to the Red Army. Scar was shaking his head, asking himself how this could happen. Scott walked wearily to the frontlines, his free hand was taken by Jimmy.

Everyone in the Red Desert looked at each other, then Scar raised his bow, and that was it.

Scott was jumped by Impulse. Better him than anyone else, even if his blows were a bit harder due to bitterness. They went back and forth stealing glances at the rest of the battle where a few mounds had been constructed to hide behind.

Impulse kicked Scott onto his back and kneeled on his stomach, taking his air. He leaned in, sparing nervous glances to their surroundings.

“I hope you got your fill of righteousness,” he hissed.

Scott gasped for air, “this was going to happen whether I had a part in it or not,” he said.

“How could you?!” Impulse shouted, but whatever else he was going to say was stolen when Bdubs rushed him from the side, throwing both of them off of Scott and into their own cloud of dust.

Scott breathed in a lung full of dust and rolled over, stumbling to his feet and spinning around to gauge the battle. It was a blur. His mind flew to looking for Jimmy. Someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind a shield, where a stray arrow plunged into the wood.

“Where is Grian?” Tango shook Scott’s arm, sweat was rolling down his face through a coat of brown dust.

“I don’t know! I haven’t seen him since..” Scott froze.

Tango seemed to read the pallid expression on his face and nodded encouragingly.

Scott didn’t finish his sentence. He threw himself to his feet and sprinted across the battlefield, towards the border of the desert. A series of blueprints he’d seen all those weeks ago flashed through his head as he ran. Dodging arrows and slamming into his fellow server mates.

Finally, he rounded a barricade and saw what he was hoping not to see. A few hundred yards away, Scar was taking Ren and Martyn in battle. Inching ever closer to a disarmingly empty plot of land. Scott knew that if you weren’t aware, you’d barely be able to see the tiny windows sticking out of the sand.

“Scar!” he called out.

Nobody heard him.

Even if they did, there was no time.

The ground under his feet rumbled, causing him to drop his weapon before a flash of pure light pierced the air. He heard screams for a moment, but they were quickly drowned out by a wall of fire ejecting itself from the ground. Scott was knocked off his feet and launched through the air.

He hit the ground with a painful thud, but he didn’t come to a stop until he’d bounced head over heels a few feet further.

Scott’s nose was pressed into the ground as he rolled around in pain. He pushed himself to his knees with shaking arms.

In front of him was a gigantic, jagged crater carved into the ground. Smoke and fire billowed from its crude maw. Scott coughed and tried to wave away the suffocating ash to no avail. It permeated his eyes and throat.

Scott realized he had been rendered deaf for the moment, and partially blind for that matter. He struggled to his feet and outstretched his arms for balance, falling over twice before his purchase returned to him.

Someone grabbed his arms from behind and spun him around, touching his face and holding him up steadily.

“I can’t hear!” Scott shouted, pointing to his ears in case whoever it was didn’t understand him.

“Can’t see you,” he pointed at his eyes and then at where he assumed the person was.

The person took his hand and formed it into a fist, then interlocked their pinkie with his own.

“Jimmy?” Scott asked, he rubbed his eyes but his hands were taken away. Jimmy positioned his face gently and he felt water in his eyes, washing away the charred debris.

His vision returned to him as the stinging in his eyes subsided. Not so much the same for his hearing, but that was okay. Jimmy hugged him close and looked him over one more time, before tracing the word “stay” on Scott’s palm.

Scott nodded, watching the other go off into the smoke. Probably to help people.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. Through the black smoke came a figure. Scott recognized it as Scar. He was climbing out of the crater. His movements looked painful, he was dragging something behind him.

It became apparent when he hoisted the object over the edge of the crater that Scar was dragging a limp Grian behind him. He laid the other out on the sand, hovering over him with concern etched on his face.

Scott crawled over, shouting to see if Scar could hear him. He pointed at his ears and shook his head. Scott wished he knew human sign language.

Scar turned his attention back to attempting to wake Grian, who wasn’t moving. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. Sensing that Scar was beginning to get very upset, Scott told him to sit back.

First he tried patting Grian on the chest, tapping his forehead, then observing him for any sign of breathing. His lips weren’t blue yet, he was still alive. Scott took his fist and pressed it deeply into Grian’s sternum, then firmly rubbed up and down.

Grian didn’t move at first, then his eyes flew open under his cracked glasses. His arms shot up to cover his chest and he cursed profusely at how he’d been woken up. He’d probably have a bruise for a while.

Scott motioned for him to calm down and breathe. Count to ten and back, and so on. Grian followed his instructions, wiping the dirt from his face and off his probably useless glasses.

Once he was sure Grian and Scar were fine, he quietly excused himself. The dust has started to clear now and the silhouettes of Dogwarts and the Red Desert alike were milling around, nobody seemed to be fighting anymore. Presumably lost without their respective captains. Scott’s ears has started ringing, and behind the din he could hear the ghosts of people shouting.

Scott idly counted the people around him. Some were huddled over a hastily constructed furnace attempting to brew last minute healing potions. As he counted, he kept coming up short. He counted again, and again. Every time there were two people missing.

He turned back to the crater. Whose smoke had started dissipating into the sky. He knew who was missing, and as he stared into the gaping wound of the earth, a hand reached up to the sky. Then came down on the jagged cliff, pulling the rest of the body to the surface.

Ren fell in a heap at the edge of the hole. Breathing hard from his journey to the top. Scott didn’t know whether or not to offer him help. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found, probably crunched beneath the debris of the bunker and the rest of the desert, and he was covered in a layer of collateral grime. It painted his clothes black and made his yellow eyes stand out.

He pushed himself to his knees with a lot of trouble, scanning the destroyed battle field with a mirthful expression until his gaze fell on Scott. The way in which they locked eyes made Scott flinch, he was in big trouble.

His mind told him he needed to diffuse the situation, but he was still without most of his hearing. It would be even harder if Ren had also been deafened. A familiar “why me” rang through his head. The urge to just leave and call everything quits nagged at him.

Ren stood on shaking legs and made his way, as quick as he could manage, into Scott’s personal space, who backed away; but he yanked his arm.

He stared talking very fast. Scott saw his mouth move but barely any noise actually processed in his mind. Scott shouted as clearly as he could that he couldn’t hear. Throwing in a few sorry’s as he went.

Ren dragged his hands from the tips of his ears down his face in frustration, his fingertips left smudges on his cheeks and over his eyes. He began doing sign language, but Scott shook his head.

By now a small congregation of people had started observing the argument from a distance. All of them more privy to what Ren was mad about than Scott was. Heat rose to his face in embarrassment as he tried to talk over Ren, trying to explain himself. Ren had started yelling as if it would help, and the argument was getting visibly heated when Jimmy stepped in.

He pushed Ren back with force so that he stumbled. This seemed to cause a chain reaction. Ren shoved Jimmy back, and they went back and forth until Jimmy threw a punch.

Scott attempt to make them stop, he came between them and ordered them to calm down, but tensions were far too high for any de-escalating. His emotions were verging on a serious breakdown, frantically begging the fight to stop. To let him explain.

Nobody heard him. If they did, they didn’t care.

Ren had taken out his damaged axe and started swinging.

Jimmy kicked Ren in the stomach, the ladder fell on his back and Jimmy kicked him again.

“Jimmy stop it!” Scott shouted, and he could almost hear himself.

Jimmy looked up at him, still standing over the Red King. His eyes were furious.

Something passed quickly in Scott’s periphery, so he turned around.

Behind him, one foot still propping himself out of the crater, was Martyn. A freshly shot bow still aimed in front of him. His eyes were dark and angry as he stared right past Scott.

Scott turned back to Jimmy, whose eyes were fixed and frozen on Martyn. He staggered back, looking down at his chest where a poisoned arrow had pierced his battle-worn chest plate. His hand wrapped around the projectile, and as if he weren’t even thinking, he wrenched it from his flesh.

Jimmy’s expression read as shock. Right before his eyes rolled into his head and he fell like a load of bricks onto his knees, then his back. His fingers were still wrapped tightly around the arrow. Covered in a mixture of blood and sickly green poison.

He fell, and he stayed.

Scott didn’t have a second to process. Not even the thought to scream, reach out, or run came to him. A blanket of nauseating numbness draped itself around him. His mind left him as he stared helplessly. He watched as Jimmy’s lifeless body grew tendrils of thorny vines until it was consumed indefinitely. Only an arrow wrapped in rose vines remained. Light green flowers bloomed and waved in the wind.

And as if he were watching himself on a screen, Scott did something that he didn’t know he could do. That he had forgotten he could do.

A flash of light illuminated the livid grey sky.

Just as fast, Scott had approached Martyn, who didn’t have time to run. He didn’t have time to put his arms in front of his face as Scott’s hand curled into a fist.

He brought his knuckles down on the center of Martyn’s face, an audible crunch sounded out as he was knocked off his feet. A horrified expression painted itself on his face as he held his bleeding nose.

Scott raised his fist again, and as he did a string of dry lighting spread across the sky. He aimed again, and when his fist met Martyn’s face, a bolt of light shot down from the sky. It turned the world into a pure white canvas with an ear piercing roar.

In its wake was a blackened patch of burning sand. Scott and Martyn sat just as they had been before, but Martyn would not get up.

His body lay bruised and burnt, eyes closed tightly in pain. The rose vines claimed his remains quickly, wrapping around a pair of bloodied hands instead of an arrow this time.

Scott stayed bent over where his friend had been. Tears streamed down his face as the static disappeared from his ears. He ripped his arms out of the thorns which tore at his bandages. Blood permeated the wrappings, but he didn’t know how much was his.

He pushed himself away, kneeling in the grave he’d created.

“Major,” someone said, cold and angry.

A hand planted itself firmly on his shoulder, spinning him around forcefully. Scott had only a second to see that it was Ren, before he was hoisted up by the front of his shirt and thrown across creation. Landing hard on his ass for the second time that day. His shoulder made a nauseating POP, hanging limply and awkwardly at his side when he pushed himself up.

Ren placed his foot on his chest to keep him down.

Behind Ren, the greater alliance of Dogwarts had gathered. Confusion and betrayal was etched on their faces.

“Not a word, Major,” Ren said. Low and forced, his eyes were blown wide with something like fear.

Then he raised the handle of his broken axe over his head, the hilt made contact with Scott’s skull.

Lights out.

[jessikahathaway]

Vegas, Baby - Part I

Pairing: Kim Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Mafia!AU, Romance, Smut (Slow Burn)

Warnings: Explicit Language.

Summary: After four years, you have been let go from your job. Taking a chance you head to Vegas to make the best of a bad situation. A situation that only gets worse.

“Sorry Miss Y/N, but we are going to have to let you go,” your boss’ monotone voice echoed in your ears. 

Four years of your life, wasted. Not that you particularly enjoyed the job, but it paid your bills. And that was what counted at the end of the day. Now, what were you going to do? Your parents had already said your room was still yours if you needed to move back in. It was sweet of them really, but you didn’t want to move back in with them, you wanted your freedom and you wanted to be on your own. But what other options did you have without losing everything? 

“Your separation pay will come through at the end of the week,” your ears perked up. The separation pay would be a nice amount no doubt. This financial firm didn’t come without its perks. 

“Very good, sir. Thank you for four years,” you said, trying not to let the bitter tone enter into your voice. 

“You can show yourself out. See that your desk is cleaned out by the end of the shift,” he said, turning his back to you.

Quickly you let yourself out, heading toward your desk. 

“So, what did dickhead want?” Namjoon, your table mate, asked.

“I got canned,” you whispered, gathering up your stuff.

“What? No way, let me go in there,” he said, preparing to stand up before you stopped him.

“Joon, honestly, it’s fine. I’ve wanted to quit for a while anyways,” you confess.

“But, Y/N, it’s bullshit that they fire you. If that bimbo in the receptionist office can keep her job, you can too,” he said, fuming.

“Joon, seriously, I’m fine. Do you see me crying over it?” You asked, smiling.

“You’re sure you’re good?”

“I’m positive,” you answered.

“Okay, if you say so,” he responded.

“Just let me get my shit and blow this popsicle stand,” you said, grinning at him.

“Whatever you say, Y/N, I’ll miss you here,” he said, sitting back in his seat.

“You’re acting like you don’t have my number or something,” you said, laughing lightly.

“It won’t be the same without you here to annoy,” he said, giving you a dimpled smile.

“I know, you like to do that a lot,” you remarked, throwing a good natured glare his way.

“Well, I’m good at what I do then,” Namjoon stated.

“Which should be working, don’t need you following me out the door,” you said, sighing as you collected the remainder of your important items.

The rest could be left here, consider it a gift to the next unfortunate person who has to work here.

“Hey, text me okay?” He said, giving you a little wave.

“Will do, see ya Joon,” you said, returning the wave before heading towards the door.

—

Two weeks later you found yourself on a plane heading to Las Vegas.

How did you find yourself here? Well, it was a rather impulsive decision. But you and Namjoon had decided to take the rest of your earnings from your job and make a vacation out of it. You were taking a week in the US and spending time in Vegas to get a little wind in your sails before moving back in with your parents. 

Did that take what little wind you had in your sails out? Maybe, but that's besides the point. This was your way of giving the middle finger to your old job by blowing your money on something less than recommended. 

A trip to Vegas was exactly your soul needed after four years of behaving like a good little desk minion. Years of filing and coffee runs, all going to be blown to smithereens. Thank God for that too. You didn’t want to spend another minute thinking about what had been, only what was going to be the best week of your life. 

You had a couple friends that lived in the states, and you were going to meet up with them after landing and unpacking at your hotel. Jessi and Lily were waiting anxiously for you to arrive. 

Jessi: Bitch, I can’t believe you’re actually coming. After all these years of begging, pleading and what not, you’re dumbass comes here on a whim. But, still excited to see youuu xoxoxo.

YOU: R00D. I was working and busy with trying to further my career that capped off at a measly management position. Where the hell were you m8?

LILBITCH: Okay, it is like midnight here so can yall quit your yapping and do the sleep sleep? K thnx.

YOU: Sorry Lily, Jessi decided to be a boob in the group chat. Rest young one.

Jessi: ExCuSE? I Did NO SucH thInG?!?

YOU: You did! And are still doing it!

LILBITCH: Can yall argue in a separate thread plz?

Jessi: Nah, bugging you is wayyyy more entertaining.

LILBITCH: I pick the worst friends. Consider yourself disowned.

YOU: Children children, I come to bring peace to all four nations.

Jessi: The only thing you bring peace to is a party, and that’s what we’re going to fix while you’re here. You are going to get wasted and you are gonna like iiitttt >:(

LILBITCH: Jessi what are you even doing up?

Jessi: Sleep is for the weak.

LILBITCH: No, it’s for people. You know, who aren’t fucked in the head??

YOU: We gonna ignore the fact that she practically said I don’t know how to party?

Jessi: I am perfectly sane!

LILBITCH: Yeah right....

YOU: So we are ignoring that deep insult? K great. 

Jessi: Sorry Y/N, it’s just been so long since we’ve all been together like this I’m so excited. I’m gonna put you in my man stealing clothes and you’re gonna get dicked down while you’re here! Yasssss, I love my plan already.

YOU: THERE IS A CHILD IN HERE!

LILBITCH: Woman we’re both older than you. You’re the child. Who doesn’t know how to party apparently. 

YOU: And here I was thinking you loved me Lily. This hurts. This hurts deep.

Jessi: So, slutty clothes shopping here we come???

LILBITCH: I read the word shopping and I’m so down.

Jessi: yAS

YOU: Some of my dearest friends. Insult me then demand to dress me like a blowup doll? WTF??

Jessi: Not a blow up doll! Is there a tamer version of those Lily?

LILBITCH: I mean not really.

Jessi: You’ll be the sexiest blow up doll out there!

YOU: I don’t like this.

“Ladies and gentlemen we are beginning our ascent. Please silent all devices and buckle up! Thank you for choosing Korean Airways! Enjoy your flight!”

YOU: Well you two can think of more diabolical ways to get me laid and I will be none the wiser. See you girls soon. Love ya! <3

You shut your phone off and let your head rest against the cushioned seat. Letting the rumble of the cabin lull you to sleep.

--

“Y/N!!!!” Jessi squealed as she came running for you. 

You’d slept most of the plane ride, but now you were stiff in the joints and her frame colliding with your own sent the two of you tumbling. 

“Oof, Jess! What the hell man, you’re gonna break me,” you whined as the older woman started squeezing the daylights out of you. 

“Alright pda couple break it up,” Lily’s voice filled your ears. 

You stood quickly and brought her into a hug too. 

“It’s good to see you,” you whispered, rubbing her back as you separated.

“Good to see you too, have you lost weight?” she asked, making you spin around for confirmation.

“Maybe maybe not, I wasn’t exactly eating the healthiest diet when I was at the firm so, maybe I just gained it in different places,” you laughed. 

There was a prickle on the back of your neck. Your guard went up and you looked around. But didn’t see anyone staring. Although, you were uncomfortable.

“Come on, let’s get going. We have a lot to do before tonight!” Jessi said, practically dragging you out of the terminal.

“Jesus Jessi I have ligaments and bones, those things can break you know!” you whined, but she didn’t relent. 

Climbing into the car you still felt a chill of fear run up your spine. But didn’t let it bother you. Right now was about you and your friends, not being a little paranoid after a long flight. Plus, you were abroad, there were tons of people around and that was more than likely throwing your radar off a little bit. 

“Okay, mall here we come!” Lily said with excitement in her voice. 

“But what about heading to the hotel to unpack?” you asked. 

“Oh, we cancelled your reservation. Did you know you saved almost a thousand bucks if you stay with me?” Jessi said.

“Huh? What do you mean? Guys I don’t wanna burden you!” 

“You aren’t going to be, our most recent roommate has vacated the room and left it in perfect condition. It can be yours if you decide you wanna stay for a while?” Lily suggested with a brow wiggle.

“You two are impossible,” you complained, leaning your head against the window.

“Impossibly smart,” Jessi narked. 

You sighed as you watched the cityscape pass you by. Jessi and Lily chatted about nothing it seemed like, but it was comforting that you all fell back into rhythm so quickly after so long of not seeing one another. It made your heart squeeze painfully at the thought of being apart. But you were here now, and that’s what mattered. 

Lily was telling you all about her work at the little cafe she co-owns. She handles the customer service end while her partner handles the more... businessy aspect. 

“And then one of my servers swears she saw a ghost of an old lady in the back room. The building used to be a house but now we have renovated it and turned it into the cafe like I’ve told you. But, I looked into it. And a lady did actually die in there in the fifties. How fucking crazy is that!? And, get this, if it hadn’t happened within the last ten years, the realtors don’t have to divulge that information. How fucked,” Lily sighs. 

Jessi pulls into the parking lot of a large shopping center and you girls all get out, wallets at the ready. 

Linking arms with them you smiled brightly and started walking towards the door. 

About an hour later, your feet were killing you and you hadn’t even tried anything on, much to the dismay of your friends. 

“Come on Y/N, you need to at least try one thing on in this next shop,” Jessi pleaded. 

“Why? I packed clothes you know?” you said, 

“And knowing you they won’t be attention getting enough,” Lily commented.

“Rude, you don’t know what I got,” you scoffed. 

Lily rolled her eyes and picked you up off the comfortable bench you had settled down on and now you were being dragged off of it like a leech of an arm. 

“Come on Y/N, I have the perfect place in mind,” Jessi announced, leading the pack towards another stylish little boutique. 

“If I try something on will you guys quit pestering me?” you whined out. 

“Maybe, depends on if we like it or not,” Lily’s voice rang in your ear. 

Somewhere, deep down, you knew letting them drag you to a shopping mall was a bad idea. But you hadn’t realized how bad until they had you dressed to the gills in sequins, sparkles and everything glittery. 

“Guys this stuff is itchy!” you said, itching your thigh, that was barely covered, for emphasis. 

“Oh come on, Y/N, you look great! It really shows off those curves!” Jessi complimented, spinning you around.

“I brought the same style of dress, but in a popping red color. It will compliment her eyes for certain,” the lovely assistant of the boutique said. Of course they were trained to reach for the priciest piece they had, and tell you it would look good on you. But hey, A for effort. 

“Oooh! Y/N, try it on, try it on!” Jessi yelled. 

“Shh, we are in a store!” you scolded. 

“God you’re worse than my mom,” Jessi rolled her eyes.

“Am not. I’m just trying to contain my two four year olds!” you said exasperated.

“As the youngest isn’t it your responsibility to be rambunctious. Getting into all kinds of trouble?” 

“That’s what we’re here for Lily, she’s had a stick up her ass for too long called adulting,” Jessi teased.

“Remind me why I’m friends with you again?” you asked, teasing right back.

Jessi just laughed and went to go peruse the racks again. Lily snuggled up beside you and wrapped her arms around you tightly. 

“I missed you,” she whispered.

Smiling you gave her a tight hug. “I missed you guys too.”

Jessi came back with a sexy white number that has cut off sleeves that draped off your shoulder elegantly and it was a little longer than the others they’d thrown you in during that afternoon.

Seeing your eyes looking at the dress with interest, Jessi knew she had won. 

 “Wanna know the best part?” Jessi asked, raising a perfectly sculpted brow in your direction.

“What?” you asked. 

“It was on the sale rack!” she smirked. 

“Okay give it here,” you said, holding your hand out. Jessi smiled and plopped the dress in your hand without hesitation. 

You shuffled into the dressing room and pulled the garment on. You looked at yourself in the mirror and almost fell over. This wasn’t you. The girl looking back at you was a beautiful woman, someone with poise and elegance. Or was that what the dress conveyed? Because you felt almost empowered in this dress...

“Okay, show us what you got!” the girls said, waiting for you outside the dressing room.

Stepping down onto the floor the girls were silent. 

“Well?” you asked, feeling a little self conscious at all their staring. 

“Y/N, if you don’t buy that dress then I will and force you into it tonight,” Jessi said, still staring.

“Does it look alright?’ you asked, tugging at the fabric.

“Yes now quit fidgeting! We’re trying to figure out what shoes, make up and hair we need to do,” Lily said, settling your hands at your side. 

“I think a red pump,” Jessi said, running off to one side of the store.

“And a red lip to match!” Lily echoed. 

“I love the way you think,” Jessi said back.

You looked down at your bare feet on the floor and sighed. 

“I don’t know, should we go clubbing tonight? I just got here and kinda want to-”

“Not bail out on us and have the fun you wanted to have by coming to Vegas?” Lily offered. 

You sighed and rubbed your face. Jessi came back with a crimson red pair of heels that already made your feet hurt. But you decided to quiet down and just enjoy the time you had with your friends. It was so nice to bicker with them and laugh, it really made your heart soar to be here with them. Even if they were forcing you into some uncomfortable shoes. At their cores, they were great girls, and you were so lucky to have them in your life. 

“There, see how it lengthens your legs?” Jessi pointed out. 

“See how it will destroy my ankles?” you said back.

They just laughed and you guys took everything to the checkout counter. The clerk cashed you out and you ladies were on your way. 

“I’m so glad you bought the shoes too! They look so killer with that dress, and we’re going to make you the prettiest thing at the club tonight! Not that you need much help,” Lily smirked, linking her arms with yours.

You shoved her a little but walked down the hall with her happily.

Until you felt that chill that had run down your spine earlier, reappear. You stopped in your tracks and turned, certain that someone was watching you. But no one was there... It made unease churn in your stomach. Jessi seemed to notice your hesitation and came over beside you. 

“Something wrong?” she asked, trying to look in a similar direction as you.

“No no, it’s nothing. I’m fine,” you smiled weakly, going to move forward.

“If you’re sure,” Lily answered, following close behind.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

After that you only went to one more department store and found nothing of interest, so you guys decided to call it. Walking back to the car, Jessi ran ahead to make sure that it was unlocked. Lily and you walked at an even pace, just enjoying each other's company.

Loading everything into the car you took off down the road for Jessi and Lily’s house.

Slowly, the sensation of being watched faded from your mind. And the three of you went back to your bickering and teasing. 

Finally, you pulled into the driveway. 

Jessi and Lily were quick to help you with your luggage, making sure everything got into the spare bedroom. And then, the work began. 

“Babe, we love you, but you gotta take a shower,” Jessi said, pinching her nose for effect.

“Rude, I literally took a shower before I boarded the plane,” you told them.

“Yeah, and you smell like plane and food court, so go. Cleanse thyself,” Lily commented, looking at her phone.

“Fine fine,” you agreed, heading towards the bathroom. 

Jessi handed you the dress and some undergarments and went into the kitchen. 

The hot water felt heavenly on your body, washing off the grim of travel and shopping. It was nice. The foamy soap on your head invigorating you. You shaved every part of your body known to man, and woman to be honest. 

But when you stepped out of the shower. Instead of the normal underwear you had picked out, was something else. 

Sorry, but we had to burn those granny panties. Wear this instead! We bought them today while you were busy being one with the bench. We know they’ll fit you!

Jessi & Lily

“Those little shits!” you exclaimed, looking down in despair at your underwear option now. 

Pink lacy panties were set on the bathroom counter. How did you not even hear them come in!? You looked at the bra and were certain that you’d be able to see a nipple through the lace that was supposed to be covering your shit. But apparently the quest to get you laid was a serious endeavor in their minds. So, to humor them, you put on the garments. That, in fact, fit perfectly.

“Those creeps,” you shuddered, wondering how your friends had known your exact size.

Pulling on the dress you bought earlier, you marveled at yourself in the mirror. You looked really good. And just as before, you felt as if you could conquer the world, in just this dress. But, you knew the only thing you’d conquer was maybe a bar scene, which would work. For now.

Walking out you found the nasty culprits of the underwear heist sitting around a vanity full of makeup.

“Wanna tell me why I’m wearing underwear that barely covers anything?” you said, venom in your tone.

“Because you put it on,” Jessi said, with a smirk.

“You guys are so fucking nosy,” you whined, throwing your headback in a mock tantrum.

“We aren’t nosy enough, when was the last time you got dicked down?” Jessi asked, suddenly serious.

Scandalized you made a squeak of discomfort. 

“Wh-Why the sudden curiosity??” you asked.

“Because, we gotta know how out of practice you are,” Lily said, as if it were obvious.

“I’m not out of practice!” you shrieked. 

“So it was recently then?” Jessi smiled. 

“No! I mean-shut up!” you cried.

“When was the last time Y/N,” Lily said calmly.

“Three years ago,” you huffed, crossing your arms in defense.

The two girls almost choked. 

“THREE YEARS!?” Jessi screamed.

“I’m right here, there’s no need to scream,” you said.

“BUT Y/N, THAT’S THREE YEARS,” Jessi yelled again.

“I can tell time, Jessi,” you commented.

“How? You’re practically a nun,” Lily snorted.

“I am not!” you defended.

“Sweetheart, listen we are doing this out of love,” Jessi shushed you, cradling you to her chest. “We will help you. Sit down.”

“This is all very offensive, just so ya’ll know,” you said, pointing to them with an accusing finger.

“Shut up and sit down,” Lily said, grabbing her hair appliances. 

You settled into silence, letting the girls do whatever they wanted to you. You found it was easier this way than fighting with them the whole time. As much as you loved them, these girls were bossy and pushy. But, you wouldn’t have them any other way. They helped even you out, making sure you got out there and did have some fun in your life. 

Lily was in the process of doing your hair and styling it the way she thought would work the best, while Jessi was deeply focused on doing your makeup. You saw the crimson colored lipstick come out and knew it was as Lily recommended earlier.

Jessi painted it on your lips with a precision that was awe inspiring. You just stayed still and let them continue their work. Enjoying the transformation happening before your eyes. Before, you were a nervous little office worker. Now, you were a girl on a mission. What mission was still to be decided, but it made you feel powerful. Not saying that you didn’t feel powerful without it, but it was nice to get dressed up every once in a while and to feel sexy. 

Lily put down the hair products and smiled at her work. 

“You look fucking hot,” she pointed out. 

“Don’t make her smile. I'm working on the concealer around her lips,” Jessi whined.

“Sorry sorry, just, she’s really beautiful,” Lily smiled. 

“We been knew,” Jessi smirked. 

“Right right,” Lily said, going to gather the tights and shoes.

“Thanks Jessi,” you said as you stood up, stretching lightly.

You felt a light smack to your butt and you smiled back at her. 

“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” she giggled. 

“Alright ladies, we need to make a game plan for the night!” Lily announced as she walked back into the room.

“What do you mean?” you asked, raising a brow at her. 

“Who wants to get laid, who wants to wing woman and who wants to be the sober one,” Lily said.

“Well, Y/N is the getting laid one,” Jessi confirmed.

“Did you ask Y/N if she wants to get laid?” you asked, pointing to yourself.

“Fine, Y/N, do you not want me to find you a fine specimen of man that could knock your socks off in the bedroom?” Jessi said.

“Well... I mean, it’s not that I don’t want that but...”

“But what?” Lily asked, coming to sit next to Jessi.

“I’m shy, I don’t really attract people. I’m more of a hang out in the corner until I’m drunk enough to approach someone type of gal,” you said, biting your lip.

“Don’t ruin my hard work,” Jessi warned. 

“Sorry, nervous habit,” you answered, stopping the action quickly.

“Y/N, it’s all up to you, we don’t really have to go out but I thought this is what you came here for? To let loose and have some fun before moving back with your parents. But if all you wanna do is have a girls week then we can do that too... But, honestly you look amazing and any guy would be lucky to get with you,” Lily said. 

You thought it over. 

This is what you came here for. To let loose like she said. But now that it was happening you were retreating into office worker Y/N, not the badass you wanted to be for at least a week. So, you didn’t see the harm in getting laid. Honestly, it might get some of the pent up stress out of your system, and that sounded great.

“No, you guys are right. I wanted to come here to be free for a while. What’s the point in hiding in the corner when I can be the center of attention for once in my life. I say, let’s do it,” you said, confident.

Jessi squealed excitedly and clapped her hands. 

“Yes! We are gonna be the best wingwomen you’ve ever seen Y/N! We’ll pick a great one out for you,” she said.

“She also has eyes, Jessi, she might find the one,” Lily chastised. 

“Yes, yes sorry,” she said, shuffling through her closet in disinterest.

“Okay, so Jessi and I are both going to be wingwoman. It’ll be a shared effort so we can pick the best guy,” Lily announced. 

“Right,” you said. 

“But like Lily said, you have eyes. If you find someone you’re vibing with, let us know!” Jessi said back. 

“Okay,” you agreed.

The rest of the evening was spent making out rules and exchanging safety measures to make sure no one got hurt or left behind.

This was going to be very fun.

[jenanigans1207]

You Felt Like Mine |BakuDeku| |1|

In the end, it’s not a villain’s quirk that gets Izuku, it’s the quirk of the woman he’s rescuing.

Katsuki was there, but he didn’t see it happen. He’s only heard about it from the police officers and the woman herself. All things considered, it doesn’t sound too bad. Izuku was able to land safely before losing consciousness and Katsuki finished off the fight and rounded up the villains just fine. Katsuki found Izuku’s body slumped on the ground and walked him to the hospital himself, the woman trailing a few steps behind him, knowing she’s important but too timid to approach Katsuki directly. The walk to the hospital was short and the emergency room doctors took Izuku immediately, calling Recovery Girl and carting him off somewhere to be treated, promising they’d come find Katsuki the moment Izuku was allowed to have visitors again.

So then, Katsuki  got to do the two things that he never wanted to do: call Izuku’s mom to tell her what happened and wait.

The first was distinctly uncomfortable but it was over quickly. She begged Katsuki for details that he didn’t have yet, so the most he could do was promise to call her again when he knew more. He did his best to be reassuring without lying to her and honestly, he was pretty shit at it. But Inko knew him well and appreciated his efforts all the same.

The second, though, that was nearly torture. Katsuki wasn’t known for being patient on his good days and shit like having his hero partner and best friend down was not considered a good day. He paced Izuku’s room restlessly, blatantly ignoring the chair that was situated right next to his bed and bristling every time somebody suggested that he take a seat.

In the end, the quirk wasn’t that harmful, although it did make Katsuki feel like his stomach was an anchor, sinking slowly to his goddamn feet.

The woman who had accidentally discharged her quirk on him was more than happy to explain all of the details to them, apologizing profusely for any trouble she had caused. She absolutely hadn’t meant to use her quirk, but she’d been so frightened in the moment that she’d briefly lost control. Katsuki wasn’t particularly inclined to forgive her, especially given the nature of her quirk, but he bit his tongue and swallowed the words because he was a pro hero and she was a civilian and he had no right to say the things he wanted to say to her.

“It’s sort of a memory loss quirk.” She at least had the decency to look sheepish and that alone was probably the only reason Katsuki didn’t flip the table between them. “But it doesn’t erase someone’s entire memory! It only erases their memories… of the person they love the most.”

The entire room got very, very still after that, everyone staring at her and waiting for her to say something else. Katsuki can’t speak for anyone else, but he’s personally waiting for her to take it back and say that this is some kind of sick fucking joke.

She doesn’t.

“They can get their memories back!” She rushes on, placing her palms flat on the table, likely to steel herself. Katsuki knows the weight of his stare can be pretty heavy but he couldn’t possibly be bothered to care. “It’s just that, ah, the person they love needs them to fall in love with them again.”

Katsuki sucks a breath in through his teeth, trying to use it to calm himself down. It doesn’t work, but he has enough practice at not cussing out people he’s meant to protect by now that he can at least get through his question with some semblance of civility. “So what you’re telling us,” He begins stiffly, his shoulders feeling tight. “Is that Deku is going to wake up and he’s going to remember absolutely everything except one person? And whoever that person he forgot is, that’s the person he’s secretly in love with? And that person, whoever they are,” Katsuki is so close to smashing his fist through the wall or exploding the table to smithereens between all of them. Holding his anger in check is getting physically painful. “Has to get Deku to fall in love with them again, or he’ll never remember who they are? Am I missing anything?”

Despite his clearly simmering rage, all eyes in the room remained glued on the woman as Katsuki talked, gauging her reaction and waiting for her to respond. She looked down at her hands on the table, bottom lip wobbling and it only served to piss Katsuki off further. She had no right to be upset right now. She wasn’t about to find out that her best friend and closest person  was in love with someone else. She got to walk out of here and go back to her life, all of this forgotten. But Katsuki was moments away from facing one of his worst nightmares. So fuck her and her wobbling lip, she wouldn’t be getting any sympathy from Katsuki.

“No,” She replies quietly, “You didn’t miss anything. You’ve got it all right.”

“Fucking splendid.” Katsuki growls, knowing he’s going to get reprimanded by Izuku for that when he hears about it. And he will hear about it because he somehow manages to hear about everything, all the time.

It’s not like Izuku’s scoldings have stopped him in the past, though. Although, Katsuki will admit that Izuku has helped shape him into a better person, one more fit to be a protector of society, if only barely.  Izuku spent his entire life at Katsuki’s side, enduring his scalding moods, getting his ear chewed off repeatedly and having his ass blasted to high heaven on more than one occasion. But Izuku also stayed at Katsuki’s side when he decided to become less of an asshole (less being the operative word), when he went through a rough few years trying to find out who he was. Izuku was still by his side, to this day, smiling through his verbal beatdowns and picking him up whenever he fell. The one constant in Katsuki’s life was izuku.

And yet, despite all of that, and behind everyone’s backs, Izuku had fallen in love with someone. At least, that was the only thing Katsuki could assume. There was a slim— very, very marginally slim— chance that Izuku didn’t love anyone and would wake up perfectly fine and Katsuki could let out a breath of relief and tease the damn nerd relentlessly for it. But the odds of that were so slim that Katsuki didn’t even let himself consider it. It was only reasonable to assume that Izuku loved somebody. The kid was warmth and sunshine and happiness and full of so much goddamn love that he just exuded it. It spilled over without him even trying, pouring from his heart like he just made too much of it to keep to himself.

Izuku not finding someone to love was nearly impossible to believe.

These thoughts burn through Katsuki’s mind as he stands from the table and stalks away, heading back to Izuku’s room. He has no further questions for the woman, doesn’t care what the cops end up doing with her. Likely she’ll get fined for using her quirk against a pro hero, even if it was an accident, but it doesn’t really matter. All Katsuki wants is some distance from this. He wants to simultaneously get it over with and run from it completely. He doesn’t want to find out who Izuku is in love with, but it doesn’t seem like there’s much of a choice in the matter.

The back of his throat tastes bitter with emotions he swallowed down a long time ago.

He pushes open the door to Izuku’s room and strides in confidently, halfway to the bed before he realizes there’s a pair of green eyes staring back at him from amongst the blankets. “Oh thank fuck.” he says, eyes landing on Deku.

The relief he feels is small, but he refuses to focus on the other emotion swirling in his gut, the dread. He doesn’t want to know who Izuku secretly loves, he thinks again, doesn’t think his life— or heart— needs that information. Doesn’t think he can handle that information. And he’s damn certain that he won’t be able to handle watching whoever it is make Izuku fall back in love with them.

And no, thanks, Bakugo won’t admit that he has feelings for Izuku. He won’t say anything of the like, mind your fucking business.

“Honestly, you chose the middle of the battle to try and catch up on some beauty sleep?” He gripes as he finally takes a seat in the chair next to Izuku’s bed. He’d been too restless before, too anxious for Izuku to open his eyes to sit. But now that Izuku was awake and Katsuki knew that nothing life threatening had come from that quirk, he could settle his nerves enough to sit relatively still.  “Leaving me to do all the hard work? That’s pretty low. Especially for you, Deku.”

The use of his name seems to surprise Izuku whose eyes suddenly become wide saucers staring back at Katsuki. “You know who I am?”

“The fuck?” Katsuki meets his gaze head on, eyebrows knitted together in frustrated confusion. What was the nerd on about this time? “Of course I know who you are, you idiot. What kind of question is that? I’m not the one who got hit with a quirk.”

“Hit with a quirk…” Izuku mumbles and immediately, Katsuki can see the gears turning in his mind, trying to piece it all together. It should be relatively easy, given what the woman had said. Izuku should, as far as Katsuki had clarified, remember every single thing but this one person. So he should know that he’s a pro hero, that he was in a fight, that he’s Katsuki’s hero partner and together they have been topping the polls consistently since they graduated.

He shouldn’t, however, be surprised that his childhood friend, middle school rival and then high school half-friend is sitting in his hospital room, aware of who he is and waiting for him to wake up. So truthfully, Katsuki’s not really sure what to do with that information.

“Real inconvenient for me, nerd.” Katsuki mumbles, but he doesn’t mean it and he’s sure Izuku knows that.

Despite the fact that they’d grown closer again, despite the fact that Izuku had forgiven Katsuki for all the terrible years of their past even without receiving a formal apology, they still interacted in much the same way they always had. It was just that the genuine bite and the underlying hatred was gone from it. But their interactions were a sort of comfort to both of them, a defining characteristic of a relationship that they both held dear, even if Izuku was the only one to ever really put that into words. Katsuki still used his nicknames for Izuku, still bristled when the man interrupted him. But now, Izuku smiled through those things, bumping his shoulders with Katsuki’s and laughing at the pinched expression on his face.

Katsuki certainly hadn’t ever succeeded at pushing Izuku away— not even at his worst— so he had resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t about to succeed at it now. And this resignation seemed to give Izuku a boldness and a sense of belonging that allowed him to nestle right in along Katsuki’s heart and refuse to apologize for being there.

“Is that why you know me, then?” Izuku asks, completely bypassing Katsuki’s comment. Katsuki has the words on the tip of his tongue, ready to ask Izuku what the fuck he’s on about again and to tell him what a stupid question that is when Izuku deals a blow that Katsuki did not see coming. “Because I don’t know you.”

The entire world grinds to painful, screeching halt around Katsuki as he stares at Izuku, mouth open as he tries to figure out what the fuck he’s supposed to say back to that. Unsurprisingly, nothing really comes to mind, so he snaps his jaw shut and just stares at Izuku, bores into him, pleads with him to take back his stupid, sick joke. He glares at Izuku with as much force as he can muster under the situation and watches as the seconds tick by and Izuku wilts under the weight of it.

“I’m sorry!” Izuku rushes, reading Katsuki’s expression clearly and easily. “It’s obvious that we know each other somehow. I just— I don’t remember. Did I hit my head? Or— what does that quirk I got hit with do? Is that why I don’t remember you? I feel so terrible!”

“Deku,” Katsuki says evenly, hands gripping the arm rests of the chair with so much force that he might snap them right off. “This isn’t funny. This is a really shitty joke.”

Izuku is gripping the blankets in his lap with equal force, looking distressed. Katsuki knows that look, and can read how genuine it is with ease. He’s seen it on Izuku’s face so many times over the years. And truthfully, Izuku would never play a prank like this, Katsuki knows that, even if he can’t believe what’s actually happening. Izuku really, truly, has no idea who he is. “I’m not joking! Please— please tell me about the quirk. When does it wear off? What can I do to remember you?”

A long silence stretches between the two of them. It’s just quiet. Everywhere. In the room, in Katsuki’s mind, everywhere. There isn’t a single sound, not one fucking thing breaking their eye contact, but Katsuki waits. He doesn’t know what he’s waiting for— something, anything to break the trance, to make Izuku admit that, for the first time ever in his entire goddamn life, he decided to play a practical joke. He waits for the woman to come in and say she explained it wrong, that Katsuki somehow misunderstood the information she had given him. He waits, he fucking waits, but none of that comes.

The thing to finally break the silence is Izuku, eyes cast downwards as he fiddles with the blanket and Katsuki’s heart is ripping open in his chest. “I really am sorry. I get the impression that we’re close.”

Finally, Katsuki releases the arms of the chair, scrubbing his hands across his face. He takes a deep breath in through his nose, but it doesn’t help. It’s not anger that’s swirling around in his gut, it’s something else. Something he doesn’t know how to deal with. It’s an emotion that he recognizes, even if he’s refused, repeatedly, to put a name to it. It makes him feel sick, jittery, wrong.

But he has to at least start giving Izuku some answers. “We’re hero partners.” He begins, moving his hands up to grip fistfulls of his hair so that way they aren’t muffling his words. “And best friends. We’ve known each other our entire lives.”

Izuku’s eyes are impossibly wide as they snap back up to meet Katsuki’s gaze. For a brief moment, Katsuki thanks whatever god has chosen to fuck him over for at least being kind enough to not make Izuku cry. It was something Izuku had— mostly— grown out of over the years and it’s the only blessing Katsuki has in this moment because he’s never been good at dealing with anyone who cries, especially Izuku.

“We have?” There’s so much tangible pain in Izuku’s voice that Katsuki immediately reverts back to wanting to punch a hole in the wall.

It’s pretty typically his go-to reaction. It’s a feeling he knows how to handle.

“Yeah. And your ass landed in the hospital leaving me with the job of calling your mom and telling her the bad news.” Katsuki grumbles, because he’ll tell Izuku damn near anything he wants to know, but he won’t tell him about the quirk. He can’t. He can’t even believe it himself, there’s no way in hell he’s going to say it out loud to Izuku. “So thanks for that.”

Izuku doesn’t say anything for a long moment as he considers all of this information. Katsuki knows it’s only a matter of time before he brings the quirk back up, so he needs to get out now. He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in another deep breath and trying to sort through whatever the hell is going on here. He knows what it all looks like, but he can’t believe it. He won’t.

He spent years being an absolute dick to Izuku and he never properly apologized. He doesn’t deserve Izuku’s friendship and he knows it, so he sure as shit doesn’t deserve his love, leaving aside whether or not he wants it. If there’s one thing Katsuki can say about himself, it’s that he doesn’t take shit he doesn’t deserve. He earns everything.

The only reason he accepted Izuku’s friendship without a formal apology is because he worked hard to stop treating the nerd like shit. He made a point to have his back, to support him, to encourage him. He may not have apologized, but he still put in a lot of work. And even then, he had days where he knew he didn’t deserve Izuku’s friendship, but he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get rid of it, either. He didn’t want to and there wasn’t a high hope in hell that Izuku would let Katsuki slip through his fingers a second time. He’d said so in no uncertain terms.

Despite Katsuki’s turmoil, Izuku is still being, well, Izuku. He’s smiling a little wistfully down at the blankets, clearly not put out by the entire situation. “I have a hero partner?” He says after a long moment, looking up to meet Katsuki’s gaze with shining eyes, “That’s so cool! I always wanted one of those! Are we any good?”

“You bet your ass we are.” Katsuki replies, smiling a little despite himself. Only Izuku could find learning about his one life exciting. “Number one.”

At that, Izuku’s face absolutely lights up. “Really?”

“Hell yeah.” Katsuki drops his hands down into his lap, suddenly feeling like he has no idea what to do with them. “But I can tell you more about that later. Right now you need to get better.”

He winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth, realizing too belatedly that he brought up Izuku’s condition again and it would no doubt lead to the one question he was trying to avoid.

Sure enough, Izuku jumps at the opportunity. “Right! You still haven’t told me about this quirk. How does it work? What does it do? When does it wear off?”

Part of his curiosity is no doubt in relation to his own condition but the vast majority of it, Katsuki assumes, is because he’s Izuku. Which means that he’s basically a walking encyclopedia for quirks and makes it a point to know anything and everything about every quirk he encounters. There isn’t an ounce of doubt in Katsuki’s mind that he’s going to be asking for a pen and paper at some point and scribbling down everything he’s told, mixing it with his first hand experience to gain a comprehensive understanding. There’s a reason Katsuki calls him a damn nerd.

Just the mention of the quirk has Katsuki’s throat feeling tight so he grapples for an escape, knowing that sooner or later he’ll have to face what’s happening. He’s definitely picking later. “I’ll let the doctor explain it all to you once he checks you out. I’ll go grab him so just hold tight.”

Izuku nods, reclining in his bed comfortably as Katsuki stands stiffly from his seat and exits the room almost mechanically. He catches the doctor in the hallway, barely manages to choke out that Izuku’s awake and asking questions and then he does the one thing he does best when it comes to emotions— runs.

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

“Wait, he’s my boyfriend?”  Izuku asks in disbelief, falling back onto the pillows behind him. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“Well, now, I’m not saying that.” The doctor was smiling at Izuku, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m saying that the quirk made you forget the person you loved the most. What you two are to each other, outside of hero partners, is not known to the public so I honestly have no idea.”

In truth, that makes the most sense. Izuku may not remember the guy who was in his room earlier— the doctor only refers to him by his hero name which helps, but not a ton— but he remembers absolutely everything else as far as he can tell. And he knows that he wouldn’t want that sort of information to go public. He wouldn’t want to put his potential partner in danger, even if they were another pro hero. Even if Izuku knew that they were more than capable of taking care of themselves— and that guy certainly looked and sounded like he could take care of himself.

And honestly, it’s better to find out what they are from Ground Zero— Izuku is left referring to him by his hero name, too, until he can figure out his real name— instead of the doctor anyways. That kind of conversation was no doubt laced with a lot of emotions on a good day, and could only be charged with even more emotions now that Izuku didn’t remember. He hoped that he hadn’t hurt Ground Zero’s feelings, hadn’t in some way made him feel like he wasn’t good enough. Izuku knew that didn’t make sense, but he wouldn’t feel better until he heard Ground Zero say it. So Izuku shelves his personal questions until he gets a chance to meet with him again.

“Right, okay, that’s fair.” Izuku agrees kindly. “So what’s the catch? How do I get my memories back? I can get them back, right?”

Izuku can’t honestly imagine many things worse than forgetting the person he was in love with. He can’t imagine what Ground Zero must be feeling, what he must be thinking. He didn’t come back with the doctor, but Izuku can only assume that he, too, is trying to keep whatever their personal relationship is under wraps and doesn’t want to expose anything, even to the doctor. Izuku appreciates the gesture, and the fact that, at the very least, they’re clearly on the same page about things.

“Yes, you can get them back.” The doctor replies, but then he hesitates for a long moment. His eyes finally drift away from Izuku, looking down at his chart, at the whiteboard on the wall next to his bed, pretty much anywhere but at izuku himself. “It’s just that, ah, you have to fall in love with him again.”

There’s a pause where the doctor is clearly waiting for Izuku to react negatively, but honestly? Izuku can’t see what’s so bad about that. He was in love with Ground Zero before, he can’t imagine it would be hard to fall in love with him again. And they’re hero partners, giving him plenty of time to spend with Ground Zero and to get to know him again. Really, as far as outcomes of quirks that Izuku has been subjected to, this is easily one of the most benign.

Even if falling in love with him again hadn’t been the catch of the quirk, Izuku imagines he would have done it. If he was so in love with Ground Zero that this quirk was able to sink its claws into those feelings and yank them away, he doesn’t know how anyone could expect him to be around Ground Zero and not immediately fall back in love. Izuku doesn’t even think he’s going to have to try, he thinks it’ll likely just happen.

“Okay?” Izuku breaks the silence, the question of why that’s a bad thing clear in his voice.

“Okay.” The doctor replies, clearly relieved. “That’s all the information I have for you. As far as everything else goes, you’re in perfect health. I’ll write a letter to your agency letting them know that you’re fit to return to your work and the rest is up to you.”

Easy enough, honestly. Izuku smiles at him, grateful. “Thank you so much for your help, sir.”

The doctor smiles at him again, scribbling a few things down on his chart before hooking it to the edge of his bed. “Oh,” He says after a moment, reaching into the pocket of his lab coat and fishing something out. “Here’s your phone. Ground Zero left it with me to give back to you.”

Izuku reaches out and takes the phone— completely unscathed somehow, despite the sheer number of times it’s been in battle with him— and he feels a little bit better with it in his grasp. He imagines that his phone is going to provide him a lot of answers and he needs those. Izuku has always felt better with more information and that was a million times more true when that information was directly about his life and his past— and the person he’s in love with.

The doctor nods in response to Izuku’s grateful smile and heads towards the door, pausing before he exits the room completely to turn back and look at Izuku. “And Deku? I promise word of this won’t get out. I’m sure you guys have kept your life private for a reason, and I’ll do everything in my power to help it stay that way.”

That is a really big relief. The last thing Izuku needed was their relationship coming out when he, personally, didn’t remember any of it. If they ever decided to go public, he wanted it to be just that— their decision.  “Thank you,” he says again, with so much gratitude it brings a smile to the doctors face.

Then the doctor does take his leave, promising to have the discharge paperwork handled in a couple hours so that Izuku can go home. Until then, Izuku is left alone with his thoughts and boy, does he have a lot of them.

The first thing Izuku does is move to unlock his phone. He doesn’t even get to put his password in before he sees Ground Zero again. As it turns out, his background is a picture of the two of them, Ground Zero scowling at the camera and Izuku at his side, smiling widely as he leans into him, one hand giving him bunny ears. Immediately, it makes Izuku smile. He spends a long few minutes just looking at the photo, tapping his screen every time it starts to go dark, just examining Ground Zero’s features, the closeness of their bodies, the clear and unadulterated happiness on his own face.

The guy in the room earlier— he seemed so… gruff, maybe. Izuku couldn’t put his finger on it right away, but he seemed like he was rough around the edges. Still, there had been worry in his eyes, so Izuku had no doubt that he had a kind and genuine heart. Izuku could see all of these things reflected in the photo. The way he scowled matched his callous exterior that Izuku had noticed earlier. But he was clearly not pushing Izuku away in the photo, wasn’t leaning away from him or trying to put any space between them. And honestly, if Izuku looked really close, he could see a fond edge to the frown.

He tapped on the screen again, giving him a better view to look at the photo. Ground Zero was handsome, there was no denying that. Sharp jaw, deep eyes and a well defined body. At the very least, Izuku considered himself pretty lucky to have won over the heart of someone so attractive.He flushed a little at his own thought, realizing that it probably only seemed foreign because he couldn’t remember the guy. He’d probably had a million thoughts similar to that in the past and he was pretty certain he’d have thoughts like it again in the future.

Still, his ears burned.

Quickly, Izuku forced himself to move past that train of thought, focusing on the next piece of information he had about the guy: they were hero partners! And childhood friends! It really is so easy for him to believe he was in love with this man. Everything he’s heard about this situation so far sounds exactly like the kind of situation that would lead to a fulfilling romance. He wonders when it happened— which one of them confessed first. He wonders about their first kiss, about the nights they have spent together. Do they live together?

His face flushes with the thoughts, a deep red to match the tips of his ears as he finally unlocks his phone and actually begins to look through it. The first thing he does is look through his text messages. The very top thread in his list is one labeled Kacchan with a picture of Ground Zero next to it. Okay, alright, that was definitely a big step in the right direction. At least he now had something to call him other than his hero name. And, Kacchan… that was clearly a nickname, something that he’d only use if they were close.

Izuku smiled to himself as he opened the thread and scrolled through it. Nothing hugely important inside, mostly discussions about work and details of plans they’d made. No love declarations, nothing particularly mushy. It struck Izuku as a little odd, but he could still believe it. These sorts of things got leaked all the time— it was one of the biggest hazards of being a hero. And if what Kacchan had told him was true, being number one heroes just made them more susceptible to this sort of thing.

And for all he knew, they did live together, so there was no need for romantic things through text messages. If they lived together and were also hero partners, they probably spent all day every day together, leaving them with plenty of time to have those sorts of conversations in person.

While still in the thread, he clicks in the box at the bottom, bringing up the keyboard and firing off a quick text: Are you coming back?

Next, he moves on to his camera roll, not surprised to find it filled to the brim with his friends, Kacchan included. In almost all of the photos, Kacchan is scowling the same as his background photo, but the more Izuku looks at it, the more endearing he finds it. He keeps flipping through photos until he pauses on one, heart stuttering to a stop in his chest. In this photo, Izuku isn’t looking at the camera. The photo is clearly taken by someone else and must have been sent to him, but he can understand immediately why he saved it.

He’s not looking at the camera, his gaze somewhere off to the side. Kacchan is sitting by his side, gaze turned on Izuku, eyes so soft they look like molten lava. The edges of his lips are quirked up in the first smile Izuku has seen on him and the genuine affection is so visible that Izuku can feel it rolling over him in waves just looking at it.

With his heart filled to the brim, Izuku locks his phone, pressing it against his chest tightly, as if he could place that specific photo in his heart forever. The smile on his face is so big, his cheeks nearly hurt. He closes his eyes, feeling a little better. He learned enough from his phone to at least understand that what the doctor and Kacchan had told him were true— not that he doubted either one of them!-- but there are still so many things that he wants to know. So, he gets comfortable in his bed, never letting his phone stray far from his heart, and spends the hours waiting for the discharge paperwork fantasizing about their life and what it’ll be like to fall in love with him again.

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

Katsuki doesn’t even bother knocking. It’s been ages since he felt the need to knock at Eijiro’s place and he isn’t about to start now. He’d sent a quick text to Eijiro on the way just to let him know that he was coming. He hadn’t explained anything, hadn’t told him what happened. He wasn’t honestly sure he was ready to tell him what happened but he needed to tell someone.

He probably should’ve told Inko when he called her back, but he didn’t. He had bitched out and lied to her. Okay, so he’d told her a lot of the truth, actually. He’d just said that it was a quirk that caused random memory loss and nobody was sure exactly how deep it went, but that it should be pretty easy to reverse. So it really wasn’t a complete lie, but it wasn’t the truth either.

Because the truth— the real truth, not just the truth of Izuku’s condition— was that Katsuki was terrified that Inko would tell him he wasn’t good enough for Izuku. She’d be absolutely correct and he knows that, but he doesn’t think he could handle hearing it from her.

Though, really, he knows she’d never say that to him.

Izuku has always gotten his forgiveness and his kind nature from his mother. She had been more than willing to forgive Katsuki in the same way Izuku had, inviting him over for family dinners and sending him gifts on his birthday. She would never see the bad in him and would never tell him that he didn’t deserve her son, no matter how much it was true. And maybe that’s the thing that scared him most of all. Maybe he was even more afraid of being given a chance and fucking it up, because that’s what he did with most chances he was given.

It takes him a moment to kick off his shoes once he’s inside Eijiro’s apartment, trying to fend off thoughts of Inko, Izuku and what they both think of him. Although he’s about to be bringing that topic right back up. And honestly, he wasn’t going to be successful with his attempts, anyways, and he’s fully aware of that. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to think of anything else for a long time, if ever.

“Hey, bro!” Eijiro greets, raising a hand up in the air. He’s sprawled out on his couch, just enough room for Katsuki to come and join him.

Katsuki stops by the fridge on his way, grabbing a bottle of water before joining Eijiro in the family room. He’s not particularly thirsty but holding the bottle will give him something to do with his hands and a way to delay answering if he really needs to. With a gruff sigh, he flops onto the couch, whacking Eijiro’s feet away so they’re not right next to his face.

Eijiro just laughs, pulling his legs back and propping himself up a little. “What’s up, man? You look stressed,”

“It’s Deku.” Katsuki begins, trying his best to seem composed. He’s never been one to beat around the bush, so he figures it’s probably best to just dive on in. Like ripping off a bandaid— just get it over with.

Eijiro rolls his eyes, but it’s fond. “It’s always Izuku.”

Katsuki bites back a snarl, trying to figure out how in the hell he’s supposed to explain any of what happened today to Eijiro. The villain attack— that part will be easy. But everything after that… “He’s in love with me.”

Immediately, Katsuki flinches away from his own words, hand fisting so tightly that the water bottle nearly explodes in his hand. Eijiro stills next to him, his entire body freezing in its place. And then, all at once, a smile spreads out across his lips, turning into a grin that Katsuki has seen far too many times. It’s the kind of grin that’s knowing, the grin he gives when someone else finally finds out the thing he’s known all along.

“He finally told you, huh?” Eijiro asks, and he almost looks proud.

“You fucking knew?” Katsuki explodes, slamming the water bottle down on the table in front of the couch. “You knew and you didn’t ever say anything?”

Immediately, Eijiro is holding his hands up in front of him in surrender, but he’s still smiling and clearly not even the least bit bothered by Katsuki’s outburst. “I assumed. I mean, dude, come on. It’s pretty obvious. He’s been in love with you since we were in school. Probably even longer.”

Katsuki is fuming, and he thinks smoke might literally be coming out of his ears. What in the actual fuck. There is no way that Izuku has been in love with him since high school and definitely no chance he was in love with Katsuki before that. They weren’t even that close for a large part of that time. There’s absolutely no way— the idea is just asinine— Katsuki doesn’t even know how to express how utterly stupid Eijiro sounds.

“That’s such shit.” Katsuki spits, turning his gaze away. Eijiro’s smile has turned into more of a shit eating grin as he watches Katsuki’s reaction to the news.

“Whatever. So how did he tell you?” He asks. When Katsuki bristles and doesn’t respond right away, Eijiro nudges him with his foot, earning a wicked slap to the ankle.

“He didn’t tell me, that’s half the fucking problem!” Katsuki finally says, grabbing a pillow and using it to pin Eijiro’s feet to the couch. “He got hit with a fucking quirk that made him forget the person he loved the most.”

It doesn’t take more than half a second for the information to click into Eijiro’s mind. Katsuki can see the exact moment he registers what he’s being told and then he’s just staring at Katsuki in disbelief instead of anything else. “He forgot you?”

This time, when Katsuki responds, it’s not angry or bitter or any of the usual scathing things. If anything, it’s dejected and a little bit broken. “Didn’t have a fucking clue who I was.”

Eijiro sits up properly finally, scooting so he can bump his shoulder with Katsuki’s, his tone softening to match the same emotions. “Well, this is a good thing, isn’t it? That he loves you?”

“Why the hell would that be a good thing?” Katsuki asks, but he still can’t put any conviction behind it,

“C’mon, bro.” Eijiro nudges him again. “I know you don’t want to admit it but you’ve also been in love with him since high school. Maybe you guys can finally make it work.”

No, not even to Eijiro who is, aside from Izuku, Katsuki’s closest person will he admit that he has feelings for Izuku. He absolutely will not say that he’s been in love with him since high school, that he was probably in love with him in middle school too but his habit of picking on Izuku for being quirkless was too ingrained to stop. He won’t say that he was probably in love with Izuku in middle school but mad at himself for treating him like such shit for so long that he denied and repressed those feelings and it only led him to treating Izuku worse. He will not say any of those things, not even when Eijiro is looking at him with soft eyes that clearly already know all of these things, even if Katsuki has literally never put words to them before.

“Fuck off.” Katsuki replies instead of acknowledging anything Eijiro said. His tone is defeated and he’s staring down into his lap.

With a sigh, Eijiro moves on to the next logical question and Katsuki honestly isn’t really glad about that. “Can he get his memories back? Does he remember everything else?”

“He remembers everything ‘cept me.” Katsuki hates the way the words hurt, hates how upset he is that he’s no longer in Izuku’s mind. He hates the way the words taste bitter on his tongue as he spits them out like venom. “And there’s one way to get his memories back.”

“But?” Eijiro prompts when he doesn’t immediately continue.

“But it’s fucking ridiculous.” Katsuki grabs the water bottle again, snapping the lid off and bringing it up to his mouth to take a drink. He’s still not thirsty but he really doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. He’s quickly regretting ever bringing it up. Eijiro watches him the entire time, clearly aware of what he’s trying to do and determined to wait him out. Once Katsuki chugs half of the bottle and Eijiro is still waiting for an answer, he lets out a growl and finally just puts it out there. “He has to fall in love with me again.”

He expects Eijiro to burst out in delighted laughter and is surprised when he remains somber, eyebrows drawn together as he studies Katsuki’s expression. “This quirk is literally forcing you to shoot your shot.”

“I don’t want to fucking shoot it, though.” Katsuki grimaces, realizing too late that it hints towards some emotions that he’s denying.

Eijiro kindly pretends he didn't hear it. “You don’t want him to keep forgetting you, either.”

No, Katsuki doesn’t want that. He doesn’t think he’d be able to stand that. After everything he’s gone through in his life, his anchor is Izuku and the way he says Kacchan so brightly. He doesn’t know how to face a day without Izuku by his side. Seriously, he’s never had to do it. Even in the depths of his worst days, Izuku didn’t give up on him.

Katsuki knows that the least he can do— the literal bare minimum— is to refuse to give up on Izuku now. But not giving up on Izuku comes at such a strange price.

“You’ve met the guy, right?” Katsuki says instead. It’s a rare moment of vulnerability and he already hates it, already feels uncomfortable, like his skin is crawling and he needs to get out before he gets in deeper. “He’s actual fucking sunshine. Have you ever seen him do a mean thing? To anyone? He is kind and he cares.” Eijiro is nodding along, clearly having no idea where Katsuki is headed with this but agreeing with his assessment of Izuku all the same. “And have you ever seen me be nice to somebody? We don’t match. I would just make him miserable.”

“What are you suggesting?” There’s a dangerous edge to Eijiro’s voice.

Katsuki crushes the water bottle in his hand. “Maybe he’d be fucking better off without me. Maybe I’d be doing him a favor—”

A pillow makes contact with his face before he can get any further into his idea. Immediately he’s ripping the pillow away from Eijiro, whirling on him with wild eyes. He’s about half a second away from blowing Eijiro to the moon, palms feeling hot with the desire to set off some explosions when Eijiro replaces the pillow with his own hand and smacks Katsuki upside the head.

“You’re an absolute idiot.” He says sternly, completely unflinching in the face of Katsuki’s burning anger. “Besides the fact that it doesn’t make sense logistically, that’s an absolutely terrible idea. Do you really think that’s what Izuku would want? After all those years, you really think he’d want to forget you?”

“It’s not always about what he wants!” Katsuki slams the pillow down on the couch between them before launching to his feet and taking angry laps around the room, clenching and unclenching his fists as he goes. “I know I don’t have a habit of looking out for people, okay? I fucking know. But try and tell me this wouldn’t be better for him! Try and tell me his life wouldn’t be better if I wasn’t fucking in it.”

“Okay,” Eijiro says and he’s clearly getting riled up, too. It’s a rare sight for Katsuki because Eijiro is typically very calm and the first to bring someone to a peaceful place. “I’ll be happy to tell you. Izuku’s life wouldn’t be better if you weren’t in it. I mean, seriously? Are you fucking stupid?”

And that is even rarer. Eijiro certainly never balks when Katsuki swears, but he rarely does it himself. “Excuse me?”

“Listen, man. I get that you feel like shit for how you treated him in the past. I get that you’re scared—” Katsuki opens his mouth to protest vehemently but shuts it the moment Eijiro’s angry gaze settles on him. “But he’s in love with you. You know him better than anybody else, do you really think it would be better for him to give that up? If you want to do right by him, get your head out of your ass, straighten your spine and be a man. Own up to your feelings and try to make it work.”

The outburst stopped Katsuki dead in his tracks and he stands completely still, staring almost blankly at Eijiro. He’s never had anyone talk to him like that. All of the anger deflates out of him at once and he sinks to a crouch in the middle of the room. He knows Eijiro is right— to do right by Izuku he needs to stop beating around the bush. After he’d made the first steps all those years ago, they’d managed to get closer. Maybe it was time for the next step.

“I don’t deserve him.” Katsuki is outright broken now, Eijiro’s verbal beatdown landing more than a few winning blows.

“That’s his choice to make, not yours.” Eijiro stands and crosses the room, crouching down, too, and placing a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “And you have to let him make that choice. You can’t make it for him.”

“When the fuck did you get wise?” Katsuki barks and Eijiro laughs, all of his rage from earlier completely gone. “I didn’t come here for a goddamn therapy session.”

“Promise me you’ll talk to him? Talk to him, not yell at him, belittle him and then try and push him away.” Eijiro squeezes Katsuki’s shoulder fondly as he says it.

It takes a moment for Katsuki to respond, too busy thinking about how well Eijiro knows him, about how badly Eijiro just wants the best for him. He’s grateful for his friendship and makes a mental note to tell him so one day. “Yeah, yeah, I fucking promise or whatever.”

“Great.” Eijiro stands back up, groaning and stretching out his legs. “Now quit your moping, we’re ordering pizza.”

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

It’s barely even a few hours later when the doctor comes back in his room, flanked by two of Izuku’s closest friends, discharge paperwork in hand. He talks to Izuku briefly again, reminding him that there isn’t anything else wrong with his health but nobody is sure if the quirk could potentially have other side effects so he needs to keep a careful eye on himself while he navigates whatever he chooses to do next. Izuku understands, stating as much, and thanks the doctor for all of his help. With a smile and a pat on the shoulder, he takes his leave and suddenly it’s just Izuku, Ochako and Tenya in the room.

“Why does it seem like you end up in the hospital once a week?” Ochako says, taking his paperwork from his hands so that he can slip his shoes on easier.

“It’s not that often.” Izuku defends, although it really does feel that way some days.

Call it an occupational hazard.

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Tenya says, clapping him on the shoulder once he’s upright. “And I’m glad the doctor came to discharge you because I’m starving.”

“Yes!” Ochako agrees immediately, “Lunch before we take you home! We haven’t seen you in forever!”

The interesting thing that Izuku has noticed in the last few hours is that it feels like parts of his memory are missing entirely. He can only assume that those chunks of time were times when he was with Kacchan and losing the memories of him made Izuku lose the memories of that entire time. It’s still a strange sensation though, to feel like he has so many large holes in his memory.

Despite that, though, he knows it really hasn’t been that long since he’s seen Ochako and Tenya. He can remember seeing them about two weeks ago when they’d come over to his apartment for movie night. Which raises the question of where Kacchan was during that time. Or maybe they didn’t live together, Izuku still wasn’t sure.

That aside, he’s not going to disagree with his friends. “Lunch sounds great.”

Technically it’s a little late for lunch, but it’s still too early for dinner. It’s the middle of the afternoon and the sun is beating down on them, not a single cloud in the sky. Izuku falls into step with his friends as they lead him down the street and towards a new cafe that Ochako had heard only good things about. Ochako and Tenya were in street clothes, this being their day off apparently, but Izuku was still in his hero uniform. It got him a lot of smiles and friendly waves on the street that he willingly returned.

“Am I really number one?” He asks after a group of girls ask to take their picture with him. “Like, actually?”

“I know, it’s hard to believe,” Ochako teases, nudging him playfully. “Especially since you’ve got to make up for Katsuki and his bad attitude.”

She’s obviously kidding— it’s clear in the fond way she says it— but it still gives Izuku a moment of pause. His brain’s immediate response is to snag on the name Katsuki and to immediately see how he shortened that to Kacchan. Alright, he tells himself, another step in the right direction. He now actually knows the guy's name. Or most of it, anyways. The next moment, though, he’s thinking about the bad attitude she mentioned. It’s probably just that callous exterior. She said it with enough kindness that Izuku can tell immediately that she doesn’t actually think he has a bad attitude, or at least, it’s not enough to sour her image of him.

“He’s not that bad.” Izuku says despite himself, realizing that he doesn’t really know Katsuki well enough anymore to be making such a statement. Still, it rings true in his head and even though he doesn’t know Katsuki, he knows he’s right. He wouldn’t fall in love with someone who was awful.

“To you.” Tenya replies as they finally make it to the cafe. Tenya holds the door for the other two of them, trailing in after Izuku and adding. “He has a soft spot for you now.”

That brings a smile to Izuku’s face as he waits for the hostess to direct them to a table. The move towards their designated table in a single file line so as not to leave room for other patrons to pass them by. They end up in a booth, Ochako and Tenya taking one side and leaving Izuku to have the entire other half to himself.

“He’s always had a soft spot for you,” Ochako comments as if their conversation hadn’t been put on pause during the walk to their table. “He’s just better at actually showing it now.”

“Really?” Izuku wishes he could remember it. He wishes so badly to remember what it was like, when things changed. He could only assume that he was elated when the shift began and this soft spot started to become more obvious. “When did that change?”

Tenya gets halfway through his sentence before Ochako cuts him off. “Why, can’t you see—”

“--wait.” She is leaning forward onto the table the tiniest bit, palms flat against the top of it as she scrutinizes Izuku’s face. “Why are you asking?”

“Because I want to know?” Izuku replies first before realizing that he hasn’t told them anything about the quirk that was discharged against him so they don’t have the context to understand. “Oh.” He says next, shaking his head. He glances around quickly to make sure nobody is eavesdropping on their conversation before lowering his voice a little to explain. “Sorry, right, you don’t have all the info. That quirk that landed me in the hospital? It made me forget the person I loved the most. Everything about them. So I don’t remember anything you guys are talking about right now.”

There’s a long moment where Tenya and Ochako exchange a very pointed look. Finally, Ochako turns back to him, her face a large grin. “You forgot Katsuki?”

“Yeah?” Izuku can feel a knot forming in his stomach at her expression. “Is that— should I not have? Is that weird?”

“No,” Tenya replies instantly, “It’s not weird.”

It makes Izuku feel better, but only marginally.

“Were we—” he pauses, taking a deep breath. His heart is fluttering in his throat and he can feel it all the way down to his fingertips. He doesn’t want to ask the question but he supposes it’s less mortifying to ask them and know than to have to face Katsuki without the knowledge. “Were we not dating?”

“No,” Ochako says kindly before quickly adding, “But I’m not surprised to hear it was Katsuki you forgot! You guys are incredibly close and we’ve all been waiting for something to happen between you for awhile.”

That makes Izuku feel more than marginally better. He could work with that. Maybe they hadn’t gotten to officially dating, but they were obviously close and on those tracks. “Why aren’t we dating then?”

“That is something you have to ask him.” Ochako begins, the rest of her thoughts cut off by the waitress showing up to take their order.

Izuku scrambles, having not actually looked at the menu yet. Ochako and Tenya both order as Izuku quickly scans the options, picking the first thing that sounds good and thanking the waitress as she takes the menu from his hands after he’s ordered. She promises to bring them back their drinks right away, so the lull remains in their conversation until she returns with three glasses of water in hand, doling them out and leaving a pile of straws in the middle of the table.

“So,” Izuku fiddles with his straw wrapper, trying to put his thoughts together. Talking to Ochako and Tenya is probably the safest place he can get information. They would never lie to him, but they’d also never judge him. And, being his two closest friends— besides Katsuki, as he understood it— they would have nearly all the information he needed. “We’re hero partners.” Ochako nods. “And best friends?” She rolls her eyes but nods again. “We’ve known each other our whole lives, he said—”

“Wait, you’ve seen him since this happened?” Tenya cuts in, eyes growing wide behind his glasses.

“Yeah? He was in my hospital room when I woke up. Doctor said he’s the one who carried me to the hospital.” It’s increasingly weird to have to learn about his own life from someone else. But on top of that, it’s unnerving to have them think things he never even questioned are surprising. He feels like he has absolutely no semblance of control over his life at the moment and it’s not a great feeling.

“It does make sense.” Tenya agrees quietly. “I’m sure you were on the scene together. And it’s not surprising that he’d take you himself instead of waiting for an ambulance.”

“But?” Izuku isn’t honestly sure he wants to know what is going to come next.

Ochako glances at Tenya before taking over and answering his question. “But, as far as we know, you’ve never told him that you love him.”

Yeah, Izuku definitely did not want to know that. Just great, he thinks bitterly, he doesn’t even get to confess his own feelings. Katsuki had to learn about them from a quirk. Talk about the worst way to ever get confessed to.

“Well that explains why he isn’t answering my texts.” Izuku replies dejectedly, leaning back in his chair with a groan.

Both of his friends are looking at him sympathetically, but it doesn’t do anything to change what a terrible situation this has suddenly become. He’d spent all those hours in the hospital coming up with such wonderful situations where they were happy together and now they were being ripped out of his hands and smashed to bits at his feet. How was he supposed to face Katsuki now? Not only did he still not really know anything about the guy, but his secret feelings had been outed.

Maybe he could just avoid him.

No. He mentally smacked himself as soon as the thought came. They were hero partners and best friends, he couldn’t do that to Katsuki. On top of that, he couldn’t get his memories back that way. Sure, it would be awkward to fall in love with Katsuki (again) if Katsuki didn’t feel the same way which was now a very real possibility, but Izuku couldn’t go on without at least trying to get his memories back. And yeah, Ochako had said that they were all waiting for something to happen between them which boded well on his behalf, but wasn’t solid proof of anything. For all he knew, Katsuki was going to push him away, upset with his feelings, and Izuku wouldn’t have the choice but to say goodbye to his memories of him permanently.

“Hey,” Ochako reaches across the booth and snags one of Izuku’s hands in her own, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s going to be okay, I promise. He’s not going to shut you out completely. And if he tries to, I’ll kick his ass.”

Tenya chuckles next to her. “That’s a fight I’d love to see.”

With another roll of the eyes, Ochako wedges her elbow between Tenya’s ribs, causing him to flinch away, swatting at her arm. Izuku lets out a shuddering breath, knowing that stressing about it right now won’t do any good. He can’t make any assumptions until he at least gets a chance to talk to Katsuki. Until then, he resolves himself to enjoying his friend’s presence, eating the delicious food that is brought to their table and just waiting.

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

It’s damn near the middle of the night by the time Katsuki finally stumbles back to his apartment, tired and in the midst of an emotional torrent. At some point in the evening, Ashido had showed up, kicking Katsuki off of the couch and onto the chair that sat next to it. Katsuki had gone willingly, but he’d grumbled the whole way. It had taken Eijiro all of two seconds after that to spill Katsuki’s entire dilemma to her and Katsuki could still hear her squeals, even as he flipped on the lights to his very empty apartment.

He feels his phone buzz in his pocket as he kicks his shoes off and it takes everything in him to suppress a groan. The damn thing has been going off all day and he knows that he’s being shitty by ignoring it, but he’s just not ready to face anything yet.

Ashido had been quick to jump on Eijiro’s side, threatening Katsuki with certain death if he dared try to push Izuku away. Katsuki wasn’t afraid of anyone, but if there was one person he didn’t want to square up against, it’d be her. He’d sneered at her in response, shoving a pillow in her face and hoping that his face wasn’t flushed.

A second vibration of his phone draws Katsuki back out of his thoughts and he growls as he finally pulls his phone out. His screen is littered with notifications, most of them text messages. He sees Eijiro and Ashido’s group text in there, some from Ochako and even a few from Tenya, which is surprising. The least surprising though, are the series of texts— including the two newest ones— that are from Dumb Deku.

With a heavy sigh, Katsuki unlocks his phone, ignoring the texts from everyone except Izuku. He can already imagine pretty clearly the kind of threats he’ll find in all of them if he’s not kind to Izuku, so he doesn't waste his time reading them.

Are you coming back?

Ochako and Tenya came to get me from the hospital, you don’t have to worry about it.

Those two make Katsuki’s gut clench as he is forced to face what a dick he was to leave Izuku at the hospital alone. Leave it to Izuku’s other friends to clean up his mess. They’d done that for him back in high school, too, constantly trailing Izuku to pick up the broken pieces that were left behind when Katsuki tore him to shreds time and time again. Their forgiveness had been harder to earn than either Izuku’s or Inko’s, but he had eventually done so. He can only assume they’re less than thrilled to see him slipping back into his old ways though.

It’s okay, though!! Don’t worry about it!! I’m sure you were busy!

Classic Izuku, giving Katsuki an out he doesn’t deserve and refusing to blame him for anything. Katsuki’s heart feels heavy in his chest as he keeps reading, only three texts left.

I hope we get a chance to talk soon.

And then, the two he’d just sent.

I hope you had a good day.

Goodnight, Kacchan.

The very first thing Katsuki wants to do is blow his phone through the fucking roof. Even when Izuku can’t remember him, he’s being unfailingly kind and trying his best to meet Katsuki in the middle. It was this exact thing that made it impossible for him to shake Izuku— impossible for him to want to shake Izuku, even if he hadn’t said it back then.

One truth that Katsuki will admit is that he never honestly wanted to be rid of Izuku. Even at his worst in middle school, he knew that he’d never forgive himself for actually pushing Izuku away. He always worried that he’d gone too far, that it was finally the time that Izuku would disappear for good. For a while, he’d thought that he really had succeeded at scaring him away. And then that slime villain had gotten hold of him and Izuku hadn’t even thought before jumping in to try and save him.

Sometimes, Katsuki still played that memory in his mind, thinking back to how frantic Izuku had been, fighting desperately for him despite the tears streaming down his face. Katsuki had yelled at him, even then, but Izuku hadn’t relented. That was probably the first time Katsuki first thought that he owed it to Izuku to try and change. It was still a long time before he actually put in that effort, but from that moment on it was in the back of his mind. It would nag at him when he’d start to say something scathing, catching the words before they left his mouth, forcing him to just turn the other cheek and walk away instead.

And it was probably that change that encouraged Izuku.

Leaning into the wall next to his door, Katsuki types out a text of his own.

What are you still doing up, Deku?

He doesn’t even have a chance to lock his phone before he sees the bubble pop up to indicate that Izuku is typing back to him. In truth, Izuku has every right to make some scalding remark about how Katsuki had been ignoring him all day, leaving him to cope with this all on his own. To be fair, even though it’s shitty, Katsuki knows that this has to be harder for Izuku than for him. He’s not the one with all of his memories gone.

In fact, it’s precisely because he still has all the goddamn memories that he’s suffering so much in response to this.

Can’t sleep. Have a lot on my mind.

With another bone deep sigh, Katsuki pinches the bridge of his nose again. He can’t deal with this shit. Old him would’ve blown Izuku off, refusing to talk about it. But if Izuku had sent him this text yesterday, before this happened, Katsuki knows he wouldn’t have even responded. He would’ve tucked his phone away, slipped his shoes back on and headed straight over to Izuku’s apartment. He would’ve gotten there to find out that the door was already unlocked, that Izuku would have been expecting for him to show up.

Because all of their fucking lives they’d been orbitting each other like that. One pushing and the other pulling, constantly together, never apart. It was always the two of them.

Want to talk about it?

He hesitates for only a moment before he hits send. He hovers in his entry way as he waits for the response that he knows will still be just as quick. Sure enough, a second later, he sees the new message appear on his screen.

Not over text.

Well, fuck. He’s absolutely not ready to have this conversation with Izuku— he’s not ever going to be completely ready but he’s not even mentally prepared for it right now— but he knows he can’t just leave him like he did at the hospital. The friendship that they’ve developed, their partnership as heroes, and his unnamed place in Katsuki’s heart won’t allow that. So Katsuki slides his shoes back on, scrubbing a hand over his hair in frustration and typing as he opens his door.

Open up. I’ll be there in ten.

Truthfully, he has the spare key to Izuku’s apartment. It’s on his key ring, right next to the key to his own apartment and his locker at work. He rarely uses it, though, because Izuku always leaves the door open for him. He could use it now, but he doesn’t want to freak Izuku out. He has no idea what information Ochako and Tenya had given him, what pieces his brilliant brain had put together. He had no fucking clue what the picture looked like in Izuku’s mind and he hated how terrified it made him feel.

The walk to Izuku’s place wasn’t ten minutes, but the extra time was for Katsuki to stop at the convenience store on the corner and grab his favorite snacks. He fucking hated himself the entire time he was plucking them off the shelf. How in the hell did he get to know Izuku this well and not think anything of it?

He knows the answer to that, though. It’s not that he never thought about it, never tried to read into his own feelings and put names to them, but rather that he refused to do exactly that. Every time the question arose in his mind, he squashed it vehemently. Every time he caught himself thinking about how fucking gorgeous Izuku was, he mentally berated himself until the thoughts were gone. So it wasn’t that he couldn’t figure it out, but that he didn’t want to.

And now his feelings have been shoved in his face plain as day and he has no idea what the hell to do with them. How is he supposed to acknowledge something he’s been purposefully ignoring for so many years?

With the bag of items firmly in his hand, Katsuki steels his will as much as he possibly can and finishes the walk to Izuku’s. He finds the door unlocked, just like he has so many times before, and takes a deep breath in through his nose before entering. He kicks his shoes off and heads straight into the kitchen, pulling open the fridge and depositing a few of the extra drinks inside.

“Kacchan?” He hears from the other room and it sounds so normal to him that it takes Katsuki’s brain about five seconds to catch up and realize that Izuku shouldn’t know that nickname for him anymore.

His heart aches so deeply that it feels like it’s pulling itself apart in his chest. “Who told you about that nickname?”

As he says it, he realizes that Izuku had used it in a text message, too. He hadn’t even noticed, he was so used to seeing and hearing that. There were so many times that the nickname had been his lifeline. He’d heard Izuku call it in the middle of a battle to warn him of danger, he’d heard him say it, ragged and broken, as he feared that he’d lost Katsuki. But he’d also heard it soft and tender, with Izuku on the brink of falling asleep, and brighter than the morning sunshine when Izuku greeted him first thing in the morning.

“Oh,” Izuku crosses into the kitchen finally. He’s in pajamas, hair messy as if he’d tried to sleep but failed. “That’s the name I have you under in my phone. I hope that’s okay?”

Katsuki snorts. Of course he’d put him in his phone that way. “ S’fine.”

It’s more than fine, actually. It’s both a comfort and an assault to Katsuki’s heart, but he can handle that. It reminds him that Izuku isn’t a stranger to him, even if he’s been caught entirely off guard by Izuku’s feelings and forced to see him in a new light.

“I appreciate you coming.” Izuku doesn’t come any further into the room and it’s very easy to tell just how nervous he is. It’s rolling off of him in waves, doing it’s best to knock Katsuki off of his feet.

“Here,” Katsuki extends one of the drinks in his hands to Izuku, forcing the man to come further into the room to take it from him. And no, there’s definitely not a feeling of electricity skipping across his fingers where Izuku’s hand brushes his own.

Izuku takes the drink and retreats back to the doorway, clutching it close to his chest. “This is one of my favorites!”

Katsuki knows, that’s why he bought the damn thing. It’s the drink that Izuku loves but won’t let himself drink unless he’s had a bad day. Normally, Katsuki wouldn’t give him something with caffeine in the middle of the night but these are special circumstances. Plus, Izuku had already said that he couldn’t sleep.

“Listen,” Katsuki doesn’t turn to look at Izuku as he talks. He methodically takes the snacks out of the bag, piling them on the counter. His heart is thumping painfully against his ribs, each one like the beat of a drum. Instinctively, he wants to run again, to get away from this, but he had promised Eijiro that he wouldn’t do that. At some point, enough had to be enough. “I know we have a lot to talk about and that’s— fine.” It hurts, every word hurts. “We can start it right now, if that’s what you need. But can we at least save the thick of it for tomorrow after the press conference?”

Fucking excellent, Katsuki tells himself sarcastically, he’s already trying to run away again.

“Press conference?” Izuku echoes, popping the lid of his drink.

“You’re not going.” It’s a finality. Katsuki won’t allow Izuku to attend the press conference. They have shit they need to work out on their own and he will not let it leak to the media. “I’ll handle it myself.”

“Do you always insist on doing everything alone?” Izuku sips from his drink. Katsuki can feel the weight of his gaze burning a hole between his shoulders but he doesn’t succumb to it. “Is it really that hard for you to let someone in?”

A bitter laugh, a burning in Katsuki’s chest. His heart is on fire and it’s burning him down to ashes. “So you haven’t really forgotten me then, eh?”

That seems to startle Izuku. Katsuki still isn’t looking at him, hands pressed against the cool countertop, but he hears Izuku shift and he knows that he’s trying to figure out how to word his thoughts. He knows Izuku so goddamn well that he can tell what he’s doing without even looking at him. It makes a sick feeling fill Katsuki’s gut.

“I don’t think it’s that.” Izuku says after a moment of silence. “I think I’m just… good at reading you.”

Yeah, that’s for damn sure. “You’ve been good at that since we were kids. It’s annoying as fuck.”

Izuku huffs out a laugh and it stokes the fire that’s currently consuming Katsuki. He loves Izuku’s laugh. It’s bright and warm and full of so much happiness. It’s contagious— and that’s coming from someone who doesn’t laugh. Katsuki can feel the tension in his shoulders, can feel the ache up his neck and into the base of his skull. He knows he’s pressing all of his weight into the counter, knows that he’s seconds away from losing his cool.

He just has no idea what he’s going to do when he loses it. He suspects, for once, it’s not blasting Izuku off the face of the earth.

“And yet,” Izuku finally moves a little bit further into the room. Katsuki can feel his presence approaching. “Here you are, at one in the morning, coming to take care of me because I couldn’t sleep.”

“If you’ve got something to say,” Katsuki tries to snarl, to bite, to put anything behind his words. They come out breathless. “Spit it the fuck out.”

He hears Izuku take the next step as much as he feels it. And then he takes another, and another. From where Katsuki is glaring down at his feet, he can see Izuku’s shadow growing larger, engulfing his own. And then there’s a hand on his shoulder, tripling the tension that Katsuki feels. All of the fire that’s been enveloping him shoots to the spot where Izuku is touching, the concentration of it so intense it’s almost unbearable. Katsuki knows immediately that he never wants it to stop.

“I think you care about me.” Izuku whispers, his breath a warm ghost across the back of Katsuki’s neck. What small grasp Katsuki had on his self control was slipping by the second. “I know I’m your best friend and your partner, I get that. But I think you care about me even more than that and you just don’t want to admit it.”

Slowly, so fucking slowly it hurts, Katsuki spins in his spot until he’s facing Izuku. Izuku moves his hand from Katsuki’s shoulder as he begins to move and it hangs in the air between them as Katsuki finally meets his eyes. His breathing is ragged, like he just got out of a fight. His lungs ache with each breath he takes in. Izuku is staring up at him with a determination that Katsuki knows well. It’s an expression of no apologies, an expression that says he knows the potential consequences for his actions but he’s not going to back down.

It’s the expression he gave Katsuki over and over again, year after year when he refused to give up on him or let him go.

“And what makes you think that’s the case?” The tension between them is so thick that it could be cut with a knife. There’s a sizzle in the air between them and Katsuki thinks he could probably blow the whole place to bits with just a small spark.

Those goddamn green eyes have always been a weak point for Katsuki. They’re so expressive, full of so much emotion. To meet Izuku’s gaze was to see the depths of his heart, the inner workings of his mind and the colors of his soul all at once. It was impossible not to crumble under the weight of his gaze on a good day, and today wasn’t a good day.

Today Katsuki had not only been forced to confront his own feelings— a battle he was still, currently, in the midst of— but he’d also been brought face-to-face with Izuku’s. Today wasn’t the kind of day where he could hold strong under those eyes. Today was the day where Izuku chipped his way past the final of Katsuki’s defenses, pushing the walls to the ground and tearing open the locked doors. Today was the day where everything collapsed and all that was left was for Katsuki to decide how to— or even if he wanted to— rebuild it.

“Like I said,” Izuku’s hand stretches a little closer to him, then. It doesn’t touch him, but it’s there, almost like he’s asking permission. His tone is still a quiet whisper that's charged with emotions and Katsuki feels the exact moment his final wall turns to dust and blows away in the wind. “I’m just really good at understanding you.”

Without even thinking first, Katsuki reaches up to grab that hand hanging in the air between them, yanking Izuku forwards until he’s flush against Katsuki’s chest, head tilted up so he could still read Katsuki’s expression. His lips were parted in surprise, his other hand thrown out to the side to avoid spilling his drink. But still, despite it all, despite the fact that he doesn’t remember Katsuki, that whatever feelings he did have are temporarily erased, his eyes are smiling as he waits for Katsuki to do whatever it is he’s going to do.

And god damn it all, Katsuki wants to kiss him.

It’s a deep and immediate want, reaching all the way to his bones, flooding through his veins. He wants to kiss that look right off the damn nerd’s face and then kiss him again just for good measure. He wants it so badly that it physically aches in his chest, but he can’t do this.

This isn’t the time for something like that. They still need to talk, he needs to give Izuku a chance to regain his own feelings. If— when— he kisses Izuku, it’s going to be the Izuku that’s actually in love with him. It doesn’t matter that this one staring up at him looks like the Izuku he knows, it doesn’t matter that he has the same warm eyes and the same kind smile. It isn’t the Izuku he’s known for all these years and he refuses to do anything until he has that Izuku back.

With a low groan, Katsuki wraps his free arm around Izuku, leaning down to bury his face in a sea of unruly green. Izuku lets out a content noise, setting his drink down on the counter behind Katsuki before wrapping his arm back around Katsuki and fisting it in his shirt at the small of his back.

The physical ache is still there, the burn still smoldering in his lungs. This isn’t what he wants, but it’s more than he’s ever let himself have and for now, it’s enough.