#I SWEAR I am going to tear myself apart over this fic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

osarina · 1 month ago

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ᡣ𐭩 LOST IN THE DARK (THEN I FOUND YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: with a blizzard rocking yokohama, you find yourself seeking refuge in nakahara chuuya's apartment because, somehow, his building is the only one that has working generators... yet you find yourself becoming a bit suspicious (and concerned) when you realize the one person you expected to be there isn't. so you decide to go looking for him yourself, forcing chuuya to come along, and you end up maybe biting off more than you could chew.

wordcount: 8.2k; sfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, i don't think any other warnings necessary but lmk if i've missed any

AUTHOR'S NOTES: ughhhhhhh i was not going to post today BUT 1) i remembered that it was ghostienon's birthday yesterday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!) and 2) sophie said she was sad so i forced myself out of bed to edit and format. i hope you guys enjoy the background to how reader and dazai started living with each other ;) i love being able to write them as stupid teens HAHAH if u guys can't tell. we also get some hints as to mori's opinion on her and dazai's growing relatioship in this installment, though that will have its own dedicated fic <.<

“God, it’s fucking cold.” Chuuya shivers, tucked beneath a blanket in his apartment, scowling out the tall windows looking over the city. “When will this storm end? I swear it's never ending."

A blizzard has been tearing through the entire Kanagawa prefecture the past two days, and right now, Yokohama is taking the full force of it, has been since three am. The harsh winds knocked the power out hours ago, and none of the building’s generators are working. The easternmost building, the one where you live, was the first to go, so you dragged yourself all the way across to the westernmost building to force your way into Chuuya’s apartment, the only building that’s power was still holding strong by the time you made your decision.

Evidently, you were not the only one that had that idea. Ozaki Kouyou sits primly in a bundle of furs as she reads through mission reports from her subordinates, Hirotsu Ryuro flips through files on an upcoming mission for the Black Lizards, and the Colonel is berating one of his subordinates over a walkie-talkie in the corner of the room. You and Chuuya are huddled on the couch with each other, trying to keep each other warm as you wait for the worst of this to pass.

“Says you,” you say bitterly, burrowed in three of his blankets as you glare at him. “You’re like a furnace, I think I’m going to freeze to death.”

The power in his building had gone out an hour ago, and being on one of the upper floors, his apartment became chilly quickly. Chuuya scowls at you and his hand darts out to press against the back of your neck. You shriek and give him an accusing look at the feeling of his icy fingers against your bare skin, slapping his hand away hard. He snorts, looking thoroughly smug at his actions and you have half a mind to beat him to death with a pillow.

“Better than being out on the streets, hm, boy?” Kouyou says idly, glancing up from her papers, raising her eyebrows.

You watch as Chuuya’s gaze flickers down to the ground, a guilty expression crossing his face. You don’t know much about what happened last year that led to Chuuya joining the Port Mafia—you do know that evidently he’d been monikered ‘King of the Sheep,’ a small organization of teenagers that had stupidly taken to trying to siphon off territory from the Mafia, and he’d been exiled by his kingdom of orphans courtesy of Dazai. You think maybe he’s probably wondering if they’re still out there, trying to wait out this storm in whatever back alleys they can find.

You nudge your shoulder against his, trying to draw him out of his thoughts, and he gives you a tight smile, one that doesn’t reach his eyes.

At least you guys don’t have to worry about any attacks until the storm passes.

The Dragon’s Head Conflict has been raging for a month now, you came back to Yokohama at the start of it and it's only continued to escalate with each passing day. There are so many foreign organizations trying to get footholds in Yokohama for the money that started this conflict, the entire city has become a bloody battlefield. You’ve hardly slept the past few weeks trying to work with Mori to figure out a game plan for handling Strain, the biggest threat of this conflict by far, but it’s hard when the Mafia’s warehouses and ports are getting assaulted day after day.

Chuuya’s been taking on the brunt of the attacks, single-handedly pushing them back, but you know he’s getting tired. You see the exhaustion on his face and the bags beneath his eyes—the storm, as awful as it is, is bringing him a break that he very much needs. And Dazai-

“Dazai.”

You sit up straight, blankets tumbling off of you as your eyes widen. Instantly, you can feel all of the eyes in this room on you.

“What about that bastard?” Chuuya asks irritably.

“Where is he?” you demand. You haven’t seen him since the storm started, don’t know where he is; you don’t even know what building he lives in. You figured that he would have wormed his way into Chuuya’s apartment too when he realized his building lasted the longest with power, but you didn’t even think anything of it until now just because of how cold you were. “Where does he even live, actually?”

A month you’ve been in Yokohama and you’ve never been to Dazai’s apartment. You spend a lot of time with Chuuya up in his, and Dazai usually pops in too whenever you’re there; they come up to yours once in a blue moon. But you’ve never been to his.

“Out in some shipping container in the yards in southern Naka-ku,” Hirotsu answers your question and you turn to look at him, appalled.

“What?” you ask bluntly. “A shipping container?”

“The Boss offered him a nice apartment in the central building,” Kouyou hums. “He refused many times.”

“I wouldn’t want to live in the same building as Mori either,” you say snippily. “He’s out there now? In this storm?”

Kouyou lifts her shoulders in an elegant shrug, raising her eyebrows as she finally looks up at you, there’s something chilly in her eyes that you don’t like as she studies you. Chuuya doesn’t meet your eyes when you give him a pressing look.

“Those containers aren’t insulated,” you continue. “He’ll freeze to death.”

Kouyou scoffs. “That boy won’t be killed by something as mundane as the cold,” she says dismissively. “He will be fine.”

You give her a dismayed look. You’re not too close with Dazai, you’ve only known him for a month, and in that time, you haven’t really had the opportunity to spend much time with him besides the occasional invasion of Chuuya’s apartment. The two of you always seem to have missions scheduled at opposite times of each other—whenever you’re free, he’s gone and whenever you’re gone, he’s free. Sometimes, you think Mori does it on purpose, but you don’t know why.

“It’s blizzarding out there,” you argue. “He’s stick and bones in an uninsulated piece of metal that’s probably buried in snow. We can’t just leave him out there.”

“Leave him be,” Kouyou says sharply, and you’re almost taken aback by her tone, giving her a cool look. “Don’t involve yourself with that boy.”

You draw back at the sternness—you and Kouyou have been on good terms, so you don’t really know where this is coming from, and it pisses you off a bit, but that might just be because you’re cold and already irritable.

“Excuse me?” you gape, looking between her and Chuuya, noticing how Chuuya immediately averts his gaze from you. “Chuuya?”

“You heard me, girl,” Kouyou tells you firmly. “Keep away from him.”

“Why?” You’re half convinced you’re not hearing her correctly because what does that even mean. Your voice rises as you become more incensed. “What do you even mean? Chuuya hangs with him all the time-”

“Mori has forced the two of them into a partnership,” Kouyou interrupts. “Chuuya has no choice in the matter. You-”

You bristle, about to rise to your feet, but before you can say anything, Hirotsu speaks up: “Kouyou-san is right, hime. The Boss has that boy on a tight leash for a reason, he does not like anything trying to interfere with it. Even you. Especially you.”

Chuuya gives you a look from the corner of his eye. “The Boss is weird about him,” he agrees quietly, but he does seem distinctly uncomfortable, like a part of him wants to go out searching for Dazai. “You’ve had to have noticed.”

Of course, you have. It’s impossible to miss the way Mori hangs over him. He has Dazai shadow him everywhere he goes, never far out of sight. He’s harsher with Dazai than he was even with you back when he first took you in years ago, has impossibly high expectations and refuses to accept failure from him. You think maybe it’s part of the reason why he’s always so careful to ensure that you’re on missions at opposite times—Dazai has shown interest in you since your arrival in Yokohama, becoming giddy like a kid whenever he runs into you, and Mori already warned you not to distract him.

You rise to your feet, shaking your head. “I’m not leaving him out there to freeze.”

“Girl,” Kouyou says, voice tight, finally looking up from her reports again to give you a stern look. “I won’t say it again-”

“Or what?” you ask coolly. “What is he going to do to me? I’ve known Mori longer than any of you. I know what he’ll do if he doesn’t like what I’m doing, it’s not worth leaving Dazai out there alone, especially in this weather.”

You toss off the blankets and storm over to where you’d hung your jacket up, looking back at Chuuya over your shoulder. “Are you coming?” you ask, annoyed.

Chuuya glances between you and Kouyou nervously before sighing and tossing his own blankets off. “Whatever. You’re bringing him to your apartment. I don’t want his shitty ass here.”

“Whatever.”

“I don’t know why the fuck I agreed to this,” Chuuya spits out complaints as the two of you trudge off the road through knee deep snow to the slope leading down to the shipping yards. “You’re insane. Dazai would not do this for you.”

“I wouldn’t be stupid enough to be in this situation,” you scowl, tossing Chuuya a dirty look before your eyes trail across the shipping yard. “Do you know which container is his? They all look the same.”

“That red one out there, I think,” Chuuya says, pointing out across the shipping yard to one of the few containers not falling apart. You grimace, it’s all the way out in the center of the yard in the deepest parts of the snow. Chuuya sees your displeasure and rolls his eyes. “Come here.”

You yelp when he grabs your arm and yanks you closer to him. The Tainted Sorrow is an ability you’ve become well acquainted with over the past few weeks, but it’s still jarring to feel it wash over you so suddenly. Chuuya gives you a sharp smile when he feels your grip on his arm tighten as he uses his ability to launch the two of you in the air; your stomach lurches at the sudden feeling of weightlessness that spreads through you.

It takes a total of maybe five seconds for him to get the two of you in front of Dazai’s supposed shipping container, and you shiver when the two of you land in the knee deep snow, casting him a dirty look when he keeps himself floating right above it.

“Asshole,” you mutter, ignoring his smug look as you trudge forward to the door of the shipping container. “Dazai! Dazai, are you in there?”

Your voice strains as you shout over the howling wind, grimacing and blinking rapidly at the snow pelting your face. You get no response from inside the container and you give Chuuya a scowl.

“Are you sure this is the right container?” you demand as your fingers enclose around the bitterly cold metal handle.

Chuuya shrugs. “I’m pretty sure.”

“I can’t stand you,” you snap as you try and fail to yank open the container, the deep snow preventing it from budging even an inch.

“Here, move,” Chuuya says, coming to stand next to you, finally dropping down into the snow as he nudges you out of the way to use his ability to pull open the heavy, jammed door.

You squint as you look into the dark container—it’s mostly empty and you’re about to turn on Chuuya for having the wrong one before you notice a chair and a desk in the far back corner. The snow spills into the container as soon as Chuuya gets the door open and you yelp as you slide in, nearly slipping to the floor.

Chuuya snorts.

You glare at him, but you have more pressing matters to attend to.

“Dazai,” you call again, frowning when you don’t see him in the container, wondering if you came all the way out here for nothing. Chuuya would kill you. “Do you see him?”

“I’m gonna kill you if we came all the way out here for nothing,” Chuuya says, voicing your thoughts. You wince as he jumps down to stand next to you. “Maybe he went over to those other friends of his? That low ranking guy?”

Maybe, you think, taking a few steps further into the container, eyes straining in the dark to try to make sure he’s not there before facing Chuuya’s wrath and leaving. Just as you’re about to give up, you spot a lump covered by a thin blanket in the corner of the container and you frown. You think at first it’s a pile of dirty clothes until you draw a bit closer and see that it’s moving, a slow and steady rise and fall that could only be Dazai huddled beneath it.

“Dazai?” you repeat again, making your way over to the corner of the container and kneeling next to the lump. Chuuya trails a few steps behind you slowly, pausing when you reach out to snatch the blanket off of the lump. “Jesus, Dazai…”

He’s sleeping beneath the blanket—sleeping or just straight up unconscious, you’re not sure. He looks small curled into a ball in the corner of the container, his skin and lips are paler than usual, breath concerningly slow. You reach out to press your hand against his cheek, feeling how cold and clammy his skin is.

“And you wanted to leave him out here,” you hiss at Chuuya, shooting him an accusing look. To his credit, he does look guilty as he looks down at Dazai, brows twisted and lips curled down, an unreadable look in his bicolored eyes. “Help me get him up.”

Dazai is lighter than you expected—he’s tall and gangly but there’s so little meat to his bones that you can almost lift him up on your own but it’s just awkward because of his height. Chuuya grabs his feet, you grab under his arms; his body is limp, like you’re carrying a corpse and not a living, breathing human being.

“Chuuya, hold on, I’m gonna put him down,” you say before the two of you get to the entrance of his shipping container.

Chuuya grunts as the two of you lower him to the ground, giving you a questioning look. You ignore it, pulling off your thick fur coat and wrapping it around Dazai, trying to warm him up even just a little because you fear that if you bring him out in his thin button-up and slacks, he’s just going to get even more sick.

“You’re gonna freeze,” Chuuya says with a sigh, shaking his head. He pulls off his own jacket and tosses it at you. “I run hot anyway. Take it.”

“Thanks,” you say quietly, shrugging it over your shoulders and then looking back down at Dazai. “Ready?”

“Yup,” Chuuya agrees, leaning down to grab Dazai’s feet again.

You grimace as the harsh and bitter winds immediately sting your face, a shiver running down your body. You glance over at Chuuya, whose face is already becoming red with the cold, he looks distinctly uncomfortable although he’s trying to hide it, and you feel a bit guilty. You look to the side, all the way across the shipping container yard up the hill to the road the two of you had come from, all of it covered in several feet of snow.

You realize, a bit dreadfully, that Chuuya will not be able to use his ability while carrying Dazai and you give him an agonized look.

Chuuya looks just as harrowed.

“This is going to suck.”

“Give me your blankets,” Chuuya demands, shivering violently once the two of you get Dazai up to your apartment.

Luckily, the backup generators had come back on while the two of you were out so you didn’t have to walk up literally nearly forty stories to get to your apartment. The heat is still off though, so it’s freezing and you really need to change into something warmer, but you’re more concerned with the boy curled up beneath your covers, still breathing but still also concerningly slow.

“He’s not looking too good,” you say quietly, reaching out to pull the blankets tighter around him. You brush your fingers across his cheekbone, trying to see if he’ll stir at all, but he remains frighteningly still. “Do you think maybe I should call Mori?”

You don’t want to call Mori and you’re pretty sure Dazai wouldn’t want you to call Mori, but you think that if he doesn’t move or show some kind of life in the next ten minutes, you’re going to have to. As much as you don’t want to get the man involved, you want Dazai to die in your bed even less. You sigh as you take a seat at his bedside, pulling out your phone to try to figure out what exactly you should do if he’s hypothermic.

“Yo, I asked for blankets,” Chuuya says irritably, rifling around your clothes closet for blankets. “Where are they?”

“Downstairs,” you say dismissively, “I thought you weren’t staying.”

Chuuya’s shoulders slump as he scowls at you. “Only long enough for you to figure out if he’s gonna live,” he mutters and then storms downstairs to find blankets as you finally find a website that will load so you can figure out what to do with Dazai.

Be gentle. When helping someone with hypothermia, handle them gently. Only move the person as much as is necessary. Don't massage or rub the person. Vigorous or jarring movements may trigger cardiac arrest.

Move the person out of the cold. Move the person to a warm, dry location if possible. If moving is not possible, shield the person from the cold and wind as much as possible. The person should be kept in a flat position if possible.

Remove wet clothing. If the person is wearing wet clothing, remove it. Cut away clothing if necessary to avoid too much movement.

Cover the person with blankets. Use layers of dry blankets or coats to warm the person. Cover the person's head, leaving only the face exposed.

Monitor breathing. A person with severe hypothermia may appear unconscious, with no clear signs of a pulse or breathing. If the person's breathing has stopped or appears dangerously low or shallow, begin CPR right away if you're trained.

Supply warm beverages. If the affected person is alert and able to swallow, give the person a warm, sweet, nonalcoholic, noncaffeinated drink. Warm drinks can help warm the body.

Well, you think, he’s not conscious for a warm drink and Chuuya changed him into a warm pair of your thick sweatshirts and sweatpants. He’s piled under the blankets in your room and he didn’t go into cardiac arrest from the two of you jostling him out of the shipping yard and into your apartment, so you think the only thing really left for you to do is make sure he keeps breathing.

You can do that.

You turn your attention back to Dazai, chewing the inside of your cheek as you look down at him. You shift into a cross-legged position, hesitantly reaching out to touch his cheek. His skin is cold under your touch but your breath hitches when he finally moves on his own; you almost draw your hand back like you’ve been burned when you see his lashes flutter, but you don’t. Your lips part when he unconsciously leans into your touch, a soft puff of air escaping his lips as he shifts into a more comfortable position, pressing his face into your hand.

You’re only snapped back to reality when Chuuya walks back into your bedroom, your fluffy blanket from the couch downstairs pulled entirely around him. He gives you a judgmental look, eyes drawing from where you’d very inconspicuously yanked your hand back into your lap before looking back up to your face and your cheeks heats up.

“I was checking his temperature,” you hiss, lying through your teeth. “Don’t look at me like that when you look like an egg.”

“Yeah, okay.” Chuuya rolls his eyes as he waddles over to you, sitting on the bed next to you as the two of you look over Dazai. “How is he?”

“Alive,” you say with a shrug. “There’s nothing else to really do but make sure he keeps breathing. Give him warm water to drink when he wakes up. You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.”

“It’s fine,” he replies awkwardly. “I’ll stay for a bit. Don’t want to go back so Ane-san can scold me anyway…”

You think it’s more that he feels guilty over wanting to leave Dazai out there while he was suffering but you don’t shatter the facade he’s putting up because if he feels bad, it’ll be easier for you to make him do the things you don’t want to do while he’s here.

“Yeah, she’ll probably be mad,” you agree, glancing down at Dazai again, some of your tension easing when you see that his chest is rising and falling a bit more steadily and much more deeply now. “I’m not happy with her.”

“Why?” Chuuya asks.

“What do you mean why?” you ask. “You know why.”

“She was just trying to look out for you,” Chuuya says with a frown. “She’s right, the Boss gets weird about Dazai. I mean, I’m sure you’ve seen it yourself but you haven’t been here the past year. I always thought it was weird that he never introduced Dazai to the Flags like he did for me but… I just don’t think he likes it when people get close to Dazai.”

It is weird, you won’t deny that, but it’s not worth leaving him out there to die. Plus… you remember the day you first met him, his excitement at having someone else his age around, his disappointment when he thought you didn’t like him… he’s just a boy, a lonely one at that, and Mori is cruel for trying to keep him isolated.

“I don’t care what Mori wants,” you say tightly.

It’s a lie—the thought of doing something that pisses him off chills you to the bone. Your throat spasms as your mind is drawn back to the warzone he found you in; the way he’d give you small smiles and pats on the head all the while telling you that if you couldn’t get a hold of your ability, he’d send you back where you came from. The thought is cold and haunting, a constant reminder that if you can’t prove your worth to him he’ll discard you like a useless tool, but…

Your gaze drifts back over to Dazai, still shivering from where tucked underneath your blankets, but he looks much more comfortable. Much more at peace. You think again of the way he was so happy to meet you. The way he was so bothered by the thought of you not liking him. The way he constantly tries to seek you out even though Mori ensures that the two of you have opposite mission schedules. The way he so instinctively leaned into your touch.

But maybe just this once you’ll do what you want regardless of Mori’s wishes.

Chuuya gives you a heavy side eye before shaking his head. “Wanna play cards?”

“... Yeah, sure.”

The first time Dazai wakes up, he’s not even coherent.

He doesn’t know where he is, doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, doesn't know who you are, and is panicked over something. Chuuya had left hours ago once the two of you were mostly certain that Dazai wouldn’t suddenly die, going back to his apartment to face the wrath of Kouyou for disobeying her. You’re starting to doze off when you feel him jerk up next to you; he thrashes under the covers as he tries to free himself, nearly knocking you off of the bed.

“Dazai,” you gasp, startled. You shift around to try to get him to calm down and nearly end up with a fist to the face. “Jesus, Dazai, chill.”

You grab his hand and try to pin him down to the bed but it only ends with him thrashing harder, eyes wild, more panicked. You let go of his wrist and he scrambles away, tripping off the bed and onto the floor, yanking the blankets with him. You curse as you follow after him, kneeling on the floor next to him as he scuttles back into the corner like a frightened animal.

He looks… terrible, actually. His skin is pale and clammy, you think he must have developed a fever from the cold. He looks half delirious, his visible eye is glazed over and full of fear and your throat tightens as you lift your hands to try to show you mean no harm. Dazai doesn’t calm down, kicks his feet out when you try to get close and you sigh before stopping a few feet away from him.

“Dazai, calm down, it’s just me,” you say quietly.

When he finally starts to calm down, you shift forward to place your hands on his ankles, stopping him from kicking out again if something sets him off. When he doesn’t immediately start thrashing under your touch, you take it as an okay to come closer. Scooting against the floor, you come to sit next to him, pressing your shoulder against his. Dazai instantly is leaning into you, body exhausted, head falling against your shoulder.

“We have to get you back up on the bed,” you tell him but you feel him weakly shake his head from where it’s resting on your shoulder. “We have to, Dazai. You can't stay on the floor.”

“Why are you here?” he croaks out. “... Why am I here? Is this your apartment?”

“You were going to freeze to death out there,” you tell him. “I-”

“But why? Why do you care? I don’t-no one cares so why…” Dazai doesn’t even finish the question, tongue loosened in his half-delirious state. He sounds distressed but more than that he sounds confused, like he can’t understand why you would go out of your way for him. Him.

“C’mon, Dazai, back in bed,” is all you say, voice quiet as you shift into a kneeling position, wrapping an arm around his waist to help him stumble back to his feet.

He’s light, but his limbs are awkwardly long so you stumble a bit when he leans his full body weight onto you, nearly tripping over one of his legs as you help him onto the bed. As soon as you get him situated, you reach back over onto the floor to grab the blankets he’d pulled off the bed and tuck him back under them.

His eye tracks you—big and black and empty as you leave his side to grab the chamomile tea you’d brewed when he finally started stirring thirty minutes ago. It’s not as hot now but it’s warm enough.

You sit at his side, shoulder pressed to his and back against the headboard as you lift the mug to his lips. He stares down at the mug for a moment, making no move to drink it, but then he lets his head fall on your shoulder again, pressing his lips to the rim of the mug.

You tilt the mug back, using your other hand to keep his head steady, watching as he takes a few sips before stubbornly turning his head away, pressing his face into your shoulder so that you can’t force him to drink anymore.

“You should take a few more sips,” you tell him quietly. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“No,” he says, voice muffled against your shirt. It’s only when he hears you put the mug back down does he finally lift his face. He still looks entirely out of it, but his gaze still somehow manages to take upon a more accusing look. “Why am I here?”

“I told you why,” you frown, side-eyeing him.

“Why am I really here? Did Mori tell you to come check on me? I don’t need-”

“I came because I wanted to,” you say as you become increasingly more irritated. “I’m not Mori’s lapdog. I do what I want.”

Dazai stares at you, more withdrawn now and an uncertain look in his eye. “But why?” he asks, a bit quieter this time like he can’t possibly fathom why someone would come for him because they wanted to. You almost want to reach down and grab his hand but you refrain. Instead, you knock the side of your head gently against his.

“I told you back when we met that I wanted to know you. Wanted to be your friend,” you say, honestly.

“You didn’t say that,” Dazai accuses, averting his gaze. “That you wanted to be my friend. You didn’t say that.”

“It was kind of implied,” you reply, rolling your eyes and that add a bit more quietly, “I do. I do want to be your friend. And friends look out for each other.”

Dazai’s entire expression shifts at your words, expression crumbling. Just as suddenly as his expression changes, he throws himself back into a laying position, turning away from you and lifting the covers up above his head to hide himself from you. You stare at him, unsure of how to take his reaction—a rejection? Or maybe he’s just flustered? He murmurs something that you can’t hear because it’s smothered by the layers of blankets on top of him.

“Huh?”

“I said that I’m allowing you to be my friend,” Dazai raises his voice, pitched and wobbly, like he’s trying to make it come across more snooty than it actually does. As if it’s a bother for you to want to be his friend. It’s almost funny but you can’t help the way you roll your eyes again. “Be grateful.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” you say sarcastically, “for gracing me with this most honored title.”

You hear him sniffle and then sneeze beneath the lump of blankets. “It is an honored title. You’re welcome.”

You roll your eyes. Again. But you don’t respond this time, resigning to just leaning back against the headboard and grab the book you were starting before you’d started dozing off. You think maybe he might be right—it is an honored title. Dazai doesn’t have many friends, doesn’t let people get too close and certainly doesn’t let them think they mean anything to him. He’s very selective with the people he chooses to associate with.

“The next time you wake up, as your friend, I’m forcing you to eat some soup.”

You hear him grumble but you think he must be too tired to protest because he doesn’t even get any words out before you notice that his breath has evened out beneath the blankets. You sigh and pull them down a bit so that he doesn’t accidentally smother himself to death in his sleep, ignoring the small smile that twitches to your lips as you turn your attention back to your book.

The second time Dazai wakes up, he’s much more alert and entirely more difficult.

“You need to eat something,” you hiss, trying to wrangle Dazai up out of bed. “And you need to drink something, you’ve sweat so much that my sheets are soaked through. You’re going to be dehydrated and then you’re going to feel worse.”

“Go away,” Dazai shrieks, nearly smacking you in the face as he tries to push you away. “Go away, I don’t want your help, just let me go back to the shipping container to die. I don’t-”

“Oh, would you just shut up?” you hiss, taking the pillow he was laying on and whacking him over the head with it hard. Dazai flops back on the bed hard, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief. You raise the pillow again threateningly. “Get up and eat soup or I’ll hit you again.”

“You just whacked me with a pillow while I’m dying of fever,” Dazai says, voice riddled with shock. “I can’t believe you just-”

“Eat the soup,” you demand, winding back your arms again as you prepare to hit him again.

Dazai gives the pillow a wary look before sitting up and scooching across the bed to the nightstand, staring at the now lukewarm soup with a contemplative expression. “Do you eat or drink soup? It’s liquid, isn’t it? Wouldn’t I be drinking the soup?”

You stare at him flatly. “There’s carrots in it. You’re eating the carrots, so you’re eating the soup.”

Dazai’s face twists in disgust as soon as the c-word leaves your lips and you know you’ve made a mistake. Everything happens in a split second—you see him look at you from the corner of his eye, you see his gaze dart to the door, and you see his body tense as he prepares to make a break for it.

He doesn’t get more than an inch before you’re bringing the pillow back down on his head, sending him sprawling back down against the mattress with a loud ‘oof.’

“You can’t just beat me until I eat the soup,” Dazai protests loudly, disgruntled as he looks around trying to figure out if he can try to make another break for it, casting the pillow a wary look. Luckily, even if he is more coherent now, his brain and body are still sluggish from the fever. “You can’t.”

“Watch me,” you say, and just for good measure, you whack him with it again.

“Stop! I didn’t even move that time,” he cries out. “Now you’re hitting me just to hit me!”

“You’re not eating it fast enough.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair!”

Dazai bristles like an irritated cat as he stares at you, but his shoulders slump as he drags himself back over to the nightstand. You’re almost insulted, honestly, considering you spent an hour trying to figure out how to cook it properly for him, but you simmer down when he lifts the spoon from the bowl.

He blinks suddenly, eyes wide and owlish. “This spoon is large.”

You stare at him. “It’s a soup spoon,” you say flatly.

“Can I keep it?” he asks, twisting it around to look at it more carefully.

“No, Dazai, you can’t keep my spoon.”

Dazai pouts at you but then lets out a heavy, disappointed sigh as he gives the soup one last wary look before taking his first spoonful of soup. For a split second, you watch with bated breath to see his reaction to it, but then his face lights up as he spoons up another mouthful of the soup. You pretend that you’re not entirely pleased and smug that he likes the soup you made him, but you can’t help yourself from making a snide comment.

“So after all of that, you like it,” you say dryly.

Dazai scowls. “I’m just hungry,” he disagrees, but his cheeks are flushed pink. “That’s all.”

“Sure,” you agree blandly.

“It’s true.”

You don’t say anything else after that, staring at the wall as Dazai scarfs down the entire bowl of soup because whenever you look at him, he stops mid-spoonful and waits for you to look away again. You think he’s ridiculous and want to roll your eyes, but you also can’t help the fondness that blooms in you as you pull your knees to your chest and wait for him to finish.

It’s not long before you hear the spoon scraping against the bottom of the bowl. When you look over at him, you see the frown on his face as he looks down at the bowl—as if he hadn’t realized that he’d finished all of the soup already. You nudge his shoulder with yours, drawing his attention away from the empty bowl.

“There’s more in the pot if you want it,” you offer, watching as a conflicted expression crosses his face as he looks back down at the bowl. “It’s gonna go to waste if you don’t. I ate earlier.”

Finally, Dazai mutters, “Only because you’re forcing me.”

You give him a flat look but don’t say anything else, taking the bowl from him and making your wait out of the bedroom to the kitchen. It’s been a little over a day since you first got him in your apartment. It’s dark again, the moon high in the sky and stars glittering prettily—you pause at the towering windows in your living room to look up at the sky and you find yourself thinking of Dazai.

Or, of his eyes that is.

When you hear people talk about Dazai, they mostly talk about his mass of terrifying feats. They talk about how he’s sixteen and already in command of one of the Port Mafia’s most elite combat squads, they talk about how he’s sixteen and rivaling the Colonel’s success rate on operations, they talk about how he’s on track to be the next promoted executive whenever there’s another opening. They talk about how his blood is blacker than anyone else in the upper echelon, they talk about how he was born to be one of them. You can never tell if they’re scared of him or if they admire him—probably both, and you think they’re probably more scared than anything.

They also talk about his eyes. Eye. Whatever. Too dark, too emotionless, too dull. Soulless, hollow, creepy. They’re uncomfortable meeting his gaze—they say he’s inhuman, that only a demon could have eyes so hauntingly empty.

You think they’re wrong, they remind you more of the night sky than anything else.

You love the stars.

You sigh as you walk over to the kitchen and pour the rest of the soup into the bowl. You heat it back up in the microwave for a few seconds before bringing it back over to the spare bedroom where Dazai is staying. You think you’ve probably not been gone for more than two minutes, but by the time you’re back, Dazai is curled up beneath the covers again, dozing off.

He doesn’t notice you enter the room and you watch him for a moment, tilting your head to the side as take note of the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his lashes flutter as his eyes droop shut. There’s still sweat beaded on his forehead, a faint flush over his cheeks that proves the fever is still running him down—you find your lips curving up, you think he’s much more pleasant when he doesn’t speak.

He only jerks back awake when you take a few steps closer to him, eyes wild with panic as if he was surprised by your presence. He doesn’t seem to recognize you for a moment but when he does, he visibly relaxes, brows furrowing in confusion as if he didn’t realize he’d started falling asleep.

“You can sleep if you’re tired,” you say as you place the soup down on the nightstand and take a seat on the edge of the bed next to him. “I can heat up the soup later.”

Dazai stares at you with an unreadable expression, he looks like he wants to ask you something or say something but his lips remain sealed shut. After a few moments, he sits up silently and shifts into a sitting position. Your shoulders brush and his thigh is pressed against yours as he starts to eat the soup carefully again, slower this time.

Too slow, you realize almost a second too late when Dazai’s head lolls to the side and he nearly drops a whole spoonful of soup onto the bed. Luckily, you’re quick enough to grab the bowl and catch the spoon and soup before it hits the sheets. His head drops on your shoulder and that fondness in your chest starts to spread again.

You don’t think you’ve ever seen Dazai so at peace before, and yes, it might be because he’s half dead with exhaustion, but you think it’s a welcome difference from the tight expressions you’ve seen from him when you happen to cross paths with him at headquarters. When he’s not Dazai Osamu, but the Demon Prodigy, the Black Wraith, cold and distant, intimidating and cruel, not a sixteen-year-old boy who dislikes carrots and has a fascination with soup spoons. You think back to his refusal to believe that you were helping him of your own free will and you can’t help but frown a bit.

You let him lay on your shoulder for a second longer than necessary before shifting him back into a lying position and tucking him beneath the comforter. You sigh as you take a seat next to him, back against the headboard as you pull out your phone to shoot a text to Chuuya so you can let him know that Dazai is doing better.

You yawn as you think to yourself that you’ll stay a bit longer—watch over Dazai to make sure he doesn’t get worse again before heading back up to your own room… but you find yourself sinking into the mattress, a bit too sleepy and a bit too comfortable…

Dazai feels better the next time he wakes up.

He yawns as he shifts in bed to nuzzle into the thick blankets and soft pillows. He feels warm, comfortable, surrounded by a familiar and pleasant scent that leaves his defenses dangerously low. A bit alarmed by how at ease he feels, Dazai’s eyes fly open, trying to figure out where the fuck he is and why the fuck he feels so good.

He tries to sit up, but there’s a weight pressed against his side that makes him pause, so he turns his head to the side slowly, unsure of what he’s going to find. He freezes when he sees you propped up against the headboard next to him, fast asleep, neck turned at an uncomfortable angle.

“Friends look out for each other.”

At once, the past day or so comes back to him—most of it is a fog but he vividly remembers him waking up a few hours ago and you whacking him around with pillows until he got some soup in him. He finds his lips curling up into an amused smile as he looks down at you, an unfamiliar warmth spreading through his chest that makes him feel almost… Dazai doesn’t dare to admit it. He’s never had someone take care of him like that before.

He sighs as he reaches out to shift you into a more comfortable position. Carefully, laying you down against the mattress and placing your head on the pillow where his had been resting. He pulls the covers over you and watches as you let out a sleepy hum of appreciation, rubbing your face against the pillow before settling back down into a deep sleep.

His hands drop back down to his lap and he stares at you for a moment, wondering if you meant what you said, wondering if you were telling the truth when you told him Mori hadn’t been the one to send you to check on him, wondering if maybe…

Wondering if maybe you really did want to be his friend.

Dazai doesn’t have many friends. He has Oda, but he pretty much forced himself into Oda’s life by almost dying on his doorstep—literally—so he doesn’t think that really counts. Chuuya… well, he pretty much coerces Chuuya into hanging out with him by antagonizing him into video game challenges, so he doesn’t think that really counts either.

Dazai might not have any friends, actually.

He decidedly doesn’t like the emotion spreading through him now. It's light and airy and it clings to his black heart dangerously. It blooms in a way that nothing should be able to bloom in the dark. It’s too… feels too close to hope and Dazai knows better than anyone that hope is a dangerous, dangerous emotion—one that he shouldn’t allow to take root in him unless he wants to be hurt in ways that he’s tried to carefully guard himself from.

He should leave.

He should leave now.

He’s feeling better, there’s no reason for him to stay now that he can move around and think but…

But this bed is so much more comfortable than the floor of his shipping container… The sheets and comforter are warmer than the thin and ripped blanket he uses to cover himself at night… The pillows are so much softer than the clothes he props behind his head as a pillow. Dazai has never slept so well in his entire life—the nights that he is able to sleep are restless and plagued with faces he’d rather forget and voices that haunt him. This is the first time in… well, forever, that he’s been able to sleep peacefully, that he actually feels rested when he wakes up in the morning. The thought of going back to that metal box almost makes his body itch with discomfort.

He’s just so warm and so comfortable and you smell so nice… and Dazai... for the first time in his life, he feels content.

As soon as Dazai is awake, he feels his eyes drooping back shut just as quickly, breath evening out again as he drifts back to sleep.

“So he’s just… living with you now?” Chuuya asks, baffled.

“I mean, I guess so,” you shrug helplessly. “He just… never left after we brought him there that day.”

Never left and brought his few belongings into the spare room he’d been staying in when he was sick, but you don’t add that part. Honestly, you don’t mind that Dazai has usurped your spare room—your apartment is too big for just you to be living in, you don’t mind the company after spending two years alone in Kyoto and Dazai is fun to be around despite the awful movie he picked on Friday and his terrible taste in food.

Plus, you think it’s a bit of a much deserved, subtle rebellion from Mori, who has seemed to do everything in his power to make sure that the two of you never have time to interact with each other. You’re still not quite sure why he seems to be against the idea of you and Dazai becoming friends—probably something to do with a future plan of his, or maybe he really is just worried that you’ll distract Dazai from the carefully constructed path Mori has set him down—but you’ve decided that you like Dazai and you want to be his friend whether Mori likes it or not… which is saying a lot, considering you don’t think you’ve ever wanted something more than you want to impress Mori.

He’s not happy with you—you can tell by the disapproving stares and the disappointed comments that make you want to curl in on yourself, and you have a feeling that as soon as this conflict is over with, he’s going to send you right back to Kyoto, but that’s an issue for you to deal with in the future.

For now, you’ll enjoy not being alone. Not having to watch your back and sleep with one eye open. Having people to rely on.

Having friends.

“And you didn’t tell him to get the fuck out?”

“Why would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you do that?” Chuuya demands. “What’s wrong with you?”

“He lived in a shipping container, Chuuya,” you defend yourself, “and I have a spare bedroom, it’s not a big deal.”

Chuuya stares at you for a moment, gaze sharp and accusatory, and then his expression shifts into one of disgust. “No.”

“Excuse me?” you demand, baffled.

“No. No, no, no. No.” Chuuya shakes his head, taking a step away from you. “You need to see a goddamn shrink. There’s something seriously wrong with you.”

“Something wrong with me? What are you even talking about?”

Chuuya doesn’t even respond, looking severely disturbed as he storms off in the opposite direction, leaving you standing there, perplexed and slightly insulted.

“What’s the pipsqueak crying about this time? Is it his height or his terrible taste in clothes?” A familiar voice mocks from behind you.

You brighten a bit at Dazai’s voice, feeling him hanging over your shoulder as he looks over to where Chuuya had left. His cheek brushes yours from how close he is—he has no concept of personal space, you’ve realized in the past few days he’s decided to make himself at home in your apartment, but you don’t really mind.

“Couldn’t tell you,” you answer. “Just ran off mid-conversation.”

Dazai clicks his tongue. “Stupid slug is always getting emotional about something,” he says. “Whatever. More popcorn for me. I finished my assignment early. Movie?”

“You’re not picking this one.”

“What? My movie was great.”

“Hah! If you say so.”

“I do say so, and I have another that you’re gonna looooove.”

“You will literally have to tie me down and clamp my eyes open to make me watch another movie of yours, Dazai.”

“...”

“... Stop looking at me like that.”

“...”

“Dazai!”

#dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you

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pirateprincessblog · 4 months ago

Text

cosmos

18+ nsfw content ahead, approach with caution. if a minor, I ask you to not interact.

🌌𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: centuries ago, humans detected a signal from an asteroid with a collision probability of 1-in-1,200. unwilling to gamble with humanity's future, they decided to evacuate. thus, kang yeosang finds himself aboard a spaceship, nestled in a sleeping pod among thousands of other slumbering passengers. the destination appears distant, and everyone remains asleep. just why is the young man awake then? ☄️𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: kang yeosang x f!reader ☄️𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 17.7k ☄️𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, fluff, smut, slowburn, space travelers, space themes, plot twist, smut with plot ☄️𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, voyeurism, praise kink, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, fingering, choking, hair pulling, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, biting, marking ☄️𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: Interstellar Main Theme (extended version)

🌠𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, light violence, existential crisis (me lol), depressing themes, mentions of death, slight blo0d (like two drops), mentions of substances 🌠𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by passengers (2016), i absolutely adore space, i am so in love with it, to the point it scares me how beautiful, enormous and unpredictable it is. i gave my all to this fic, kinda put myself in it, so please do not hesitate to leave a feedback <3 each word means the world to me!

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

"calculating remaining travel time... xjlsdja23ky324xii... updated."

"come on, you piece of shit."

"updated estimated time to reach proxima centauri b is nine hundred and twenty eight years, six days and seven minutes."

"fuck!" the man hits the screen with his fist, but the numbers don't budge. "what the fuck?!"

if the man's relatives and friends were awake around him at this moment, they would've been shocked. kang yeosang never swore, nor did he ever strike anyone or anything. him losing his temper is something that only ever happened once, at the entrance of the very ship he stands in. the captain wanted to separate his mother from his family, claiming there is no space for her and that they have reached the traveler limit. she is the last to board, they said, you'll wait for the next one. yeosang stepped down, letting his mother take his space, and said his tearful goodbyes before clearing the way for the captain and the stewards to close the doors.

however, they did not. instead, they waved their hand towards a group of people, keeping the door open for them. yeosang watched with his jaw dropped as a family of five rushed to the doors, dragging their designer luggage, wheels scratching the uneven concrete floor and making the man's ears bleed. blood boils inside his body, and his mother noticed the popped vein on his forehead from the window. before she can make it to the door to stop him, yeosang throws himself at the captain, hate, cussing and violence taking over his body.

once the stewards separated them and his mother's face appeared in front of him, he realized his mistake. the older man seized the woman by her elbow, then shoves her down the silver stairs. the sound of groans and thumps still echo in yeosang's ears, accompanied by the distant rumble of the luggage wheels that had triggered his reaction.

"you want to get on the ship so bad? go!"

he is forced inside the ship, and moved away from the doors so they can close them. through the window, he looks at his tearful and hurt mother through his own blurry eyes, heart ripping apart at the sight. i'll be fine, she keeps mouthing, forcing a smile.

they say the next ship will be ready soon, but after this, how can he trust anyone? besides, the ship could be ready next week, or next year. the danger is inching closer with each day that passes, increasing in speed and destroying everything in its path, until it eventually collides with the green planet, destroying both in the process. if they survive the impact, they will die of starvation. yeosang's heart clenches at the thought. he didn't want his mother to await certain death on this planet. he didn't want her to eat dust and dig for food in the ashes of those who stayed, willingly or forcefully.

but that might just be the price for his actions. yeosang sobs against the window, clawing at it. his lungs hurt, a new realization hitting him with each second that passes and sending him into another fit of wailing. a soft smile on her face is the last thing the man sees before he is pulled away from the window. he recognizes his sister's voice comforting him, even though she is in as much pain as him.

now, yeosang stands before the screen, its numbers blurred by fresh tears of sadness and anger. he walks over to his sleeping pod, eyes examining it and brain struggling to understand what went wrong. he lays inside once again, then closes the glass door. the white sheets are still warm and as uncomfortable as the first time he laid there. nothing changes, no sound is heard, no matter how long he lays there. he isn't stupid, he knows that the buttons on the outer shell need to be pressed in order for him to go into hibernation again. but maybe, just maybe, a miracle happens.

an hour, a nap, and no miracles later, yeosang is awake again. he sighs, chest swelling with sadness and pain once more. not only did he abandon his mother, but he is going to face his end alone too. the blonde man glances at the nearby pods; his sister, grandfather, and a few family friends all peacefully awaiting the end of the long voyage. hundreds of pods are lined up in the room, each person inside it dressed the same, stripped of any makeup, piercings, and earthly clothes, instead dressed in simple white silk sleepwear. from the richest to the poorest, they all share the same fate now; a plain sleeping pod, with no designer marks or gold pleating, barefoot, barefaced, and a desire to keep living. he is so close to them, yet so far. surrounded, but isolated.

until he hears a crash outside the hibernation room.

his bare feet tap against the cold white tiles as he follows the echo of the noise, heart thumping with fear and hope. is he not alone?

yeosang finally exits the hibernation room, eyes failing to catch an empty pod near the exit. he finds himself standing in the middle of what looked like a lobby. the pale colour of the walls hurt his eyes, along with a big number of white led lights scattered on the ceiling. on the first glance, it looked simple. once yeosang's eyes got used to the light, he noticed a great willow tree in the middle of the room. it is surrounded by a few wooden benches, all facing it. a long table follows the curved walls, decorated with plants of all sorts, protected by glass.

he does not speak just yet, instead he further examines the room. all the windows are shut, and yeosang doesn't think to approach one and remove the shade. he continues the path through the door closest to the one of the hibernation room, not knowing what to hope for. is he alone, or is he not? both possibilities are equally terrifying. if yes, what was the noise? if not, what could he expect from the person that was also awake for some reason?

yeosang seems to have entered a tube that served as a hallway, the walls curved and decorated with thin led stripes. yeosang's eyes shine under the lights, like a baby's on their first christmas. the hallway leads him into a somewhat warmer decorated room, soft yellow lights a contrast to the previous strong white ones. he raises an eyebrow as he takes in the space. it looks like a restaurant, with a bar fully stocked. there aren't many tables, all of them made to fit up to four people.

they are simply decorated, with a single electric candle in the middle. the chairs are all neatly tucked in, except one. the man carefully approaches the table, fingers hesitantly grazing the plush backrest. it is a deep green colour, the velvet material soft under yeosang's fingertips. the seat itself has an imprint, and yeosang's heart seems to stop for a moment. he raises his head abruptly, and his eyes lock with another pair.

he steps back, breath caught in his throat. the figure gasps too, eyes widening, before her legs carry her outside the restaurant and into another room. the man stays still, unsure if he should follow. what if it is a trap? for his misbehaviour? what should he do anyway? hide around the ship until the end of his life? could be tricky, but the ship is enormous. with an equally enormous luck, he might just make it.

his eyes catch a few items on the table; an opened book, a marker, cup of brown liquid and a broken necklace. on the floor is a shattered glass, probably the crash he heard. he takes the book in his hands, making sure to remember the page before closing it to view the title. it looks like a steamy romance, and when he goes through a few pages, he has to set it down before his attention shifts to something else.

"good evening, sir. ready to order?"

yeosang jumps, dropping the just acquired blue marker on the table. the voice is robotic, yet the face is human. it is an older man, with wheels instead of feet. his hands look human too, holding a tray with a single glass of water on it. it is when yeosang takes a sip that he realizes just how parched he was. he downs the glass, a few drops escaping and rolling down his chin and neck.

"what are you?" he finally speaks.

"i am a human made robot, created to be at your service during your stay at the ship. would you like to sit and take a look at the menu?"

yeosang sits down on the other chair, curiosity taking over him. shortly after, a thin menu is handed to him. it has a few usual choices, and a few more fancy ones. his stomach grumbles as he reads the ingredients of a certain dish, mouth almost watering when he sees the picture of it on the next page. but he has other things to worry about.

"made for our service, right?"

"indeed, sir."

"then, can you activate my pod again?"

"oh, sorry sir. that is beyond my program."

the blonde haired man sighs, dropping the menu on the table. he intertwines his fingers and rests his elbows on the edge of the table, his chin on top of his hands. he looks at the robot's smiley face, and then scoffs.

"it's just a few buttons."

"i'm sorry sir, but-"

"you're programmed to make dozens of cocktails, but not to press a few buttons?" he raises his voice, annoyed with the situation.

"it is dangerous, sir. i cannot just press any buttons, there is a whole procedure. your pod might implode, and you might endanger other pods, even the ship itself."

"bullshit."

"perhaps the young lady can help."

yeosang follows the robot's gaze, and his eyes lock with those from moments ago again. a female figure stands at the doors where she once disappeared, with no emotion on her face. at first, yeosang thinks that it is another robot. but all of her seems human enough.

"i'll be at the bar if you need me." with that, the robot slides behind the bar, busying himself with cleaning.

the girl approaches, carefully. when she reaches her once abandoned table, she slowly smiles. the look on the man's face makes her smile fade quickly, pure anger written all over his features.

"you." he says through gritted teeth.

"uh... hi. my name is-" she holds her hand out as a greeting, ignoring the sudden hostile demeanor.

"i don't want to know your fucking name."

"w-what?"

yeosang replays the image of the captain pushing him out of the way, only to invite a whole family inside after he said there is no more space left. he saw you, carrying that foolish designer bag over your shoulder, the weight of it pulling your body to the side. he remembers locking eyes with you for a split second, just before he went berserk on the captain. you looked like you hadn't worked a single day in your life, and like your world was only flowers and waterfalls.

"you're holding me accountable for your mom, aren't you?"

"do not talk about my mother."

"you know, before assuming something, you should try thinking a bit harder. how do you-"

"i don't have to- no, i don't want to think harder. you rich bastards waltz in here like it's nothing while us poor people have to scrape every corner of our house for the last penny to get a chance for a ticket." he stands from the chair abruptly, making it fall on the floor and you flinch.

tears gather in your eyes, and you feel frustrated that you cannot control it. why do you always have to cry, no matter the emotion? who cries from anger, for god's sake?

"oh, no no. you do not get to cry. that is my mother that stayed down there, and-"

"you think i just waltzed in here? just like that? you think i didn't pay for my own goddamn ticket? you think they let us in just because of our status and wealth?"

"you paid for your ticket? who told you that, your daddy?"

you stay silent for a moment, before confirming. yeosang laughs sarcastically, offending you even more.

"right." he scoffs.

"you think he would lie to me?"

"did you see the tickets? do you know what they look like? how much they cost? where they're taking us? do you even know where you are going? tell me any of these things, and i'll believe you."

you sit down, staring at the broken necklace. you did not know any of those things. you did ask your father to show you the tickets multiple times, you were excited. but he delayed it, even at the entrance, he didn't have to show it to the captain.

"that's what i thought."

"but... why would they let us board?"

"because your daddy is an important minister. you should try thinking a bit harder." he repeats your sentence from earlier.

you sit still, anger stirring inside of you. anger no longer directed at the gorgeous man, but at your family. your father specifically. the stranger picks up the chair, then sits on it. he sighs, shoving his face in his hands.

"what happened to your pod?" he asks, not yet looking at you.

"i don't know. i suddenly woke up, couldn't breathe, and had to break the glass to get out. next thing i know, it had smoke coming out of it so i pressed a bunch of buttons until the thing shut down completely. what about yours?"

yeosang removed his hands from his face, finally looking at you properly. he feels his ears and cheeks warm up, noticing just how beautiful you are. he looks at your book instead, unable to maintain eye-contact.

"no difficulty with breathing as far as i remember. i woke up like i did on earth every day, and it felt natural too. the lid was open, no smoke or cracks. the digital board seemed normal, the vitals still showing up until i had to rip the cables from my wrists." yeosang looks down on his hands, remembering how gently he yanked those tubes from his flesh. "then i was confused as to why i was the only one awake. i went to the main screen in the hibernation room, might've hit it, and then heard a crash. you, assuming?"

"yeah. i knocked it over while trying to fix the stupid necklace."

yeosang nods, eyeing the necklace that now rests in your fingers. it has a simple butterfly pendant, and yeosang fights the urge to ask if it holds any meaning.

"how long have you been awake?"

"about three weeks."

"it doesn't sound like a lot, but when you're alone, assuming it feels like three months?"

you laugh, "more like three years."

"have you tried sending a message back to earth?"

you frown, remembering all the video and voice messages you have sent the first day you woke up and met your new fate. you abused the poor system, sending a tearful plea for help almost every hour.

"i have."

"and?"

"it takes approximately nineteen years for them to receive it, and more than nineteen for me to receive the reply, depends on the speed we are moving at. in that time, the asteroid is expected to strike. they'll have it worse than i do, so i am at least grateful that i get to live to an old age. hopefully."

silence envelops both of you for a while. he seems to be thinking, eyes squinted and nose scrunched cutely.

"do you think... you can try activating my pod again?"

he sees your smile fade. must be horrible to be all alone, especially knowing that you won't reach the set destination. nine hundred years is a long time after all. barely any human lives past a hundred.

"i can try."

yeosang beams, excitedly standing up. he misses the way your eyes become glossy again, tears threatening to spill any moment. you trail behind him, using the chance to examine him. he is taller than you, with soft blonde hair that falls over his almond eyes, and bright skin. he looks like a prince, more beautiful than any man you've been with or had a crush on. he looks over his shoulder, checking to see if you're following him. his eyes are a warm chestnut brown, and his lips a pretty pink shade. you're jealous of his cheekbones and lashes.

soon enough you stand in front of his hibernation pod, the lid opened and the sheets inviting, no matter how uncomfortable.

"right, then. lay down." you say with a heavy heart.

he wastes no time, laying in the pod with his eyes closed and rolling up his sleeves. you take the discarded tubes, poking the tiny needles back below his wounded flesh and taping them back together. he closes his eyes, and his lips twitch in a smile. you bite the inside of your cheek, wishing for nothing more than for all of this to fail.

you're horrible, yes. but if you have to spend another day alone here, you might just toss yourself out in space without a suit on and die. robots are a good company only for a limited amount of time, before their answers start becoming repetitive and predictable.

"you never told me your name." you mumble, getting ready to close the clear lid.

"yeosang." he says, opening one eye to look at you. "yours?"

"y/n."

"beautiful." he compliments.

"bye, yeosang. i hope a better life awaits you." you say before your voice starts cracking, and a tear escapes your eye.

"bye, y/n." the man says his final words before closing his eyes again and relaxing.

you close the lid, then make sure his vitals are showing on the tiny screen. once everything seems ready, you follow the steps on the screen, pushing the buttons in the right order, until it asks for an authorization code.

"shit."

he seems to hear it, because he opens his eyes to look at you with his eyebrow raised. "what?"

"uh, i'll be right back. i just need the authorization code."

"oh. alright, i hope you find it."

"it should be on the main screen."

after a long time of fooling around on the screen, you do not find the code. if you were to start guessing, you wouldn't know where to start. the keypad offers both numbers and letters, and it could be any combination.

"yeosang?"

"yes?"

"i'm so sorry, but... i couldn't find the code."

yeosang's world shatters once again. it seemed way too easy anyway.

"help me out."

a week later, you still find the man in the same spot. he sleeps in his hibernation pod, and when he doesn't, he sits on the floor beside it and stares at the ceiling. the glass of water you had brought him last night, just like every other night, was empty beside it. it makes you feel relieved that he drank. you don't want him to die like this. you aren't sure how you would handle that, both emotionally and physically.

"yeosang?"

you call, hoping to convince him to come outside today.

"want a tour of the ship? you haven't seen anything yet. besides, don't you have to piss from all this water?"

"thanks for reminding me. my kidneys will kill me." he groans. "which way?"

you lead him out the hibernation room and into the lobby again, only this time you take a different path. there is a door near the restaurant hallway, and you playfully open it up for him.

"my lord."

he rolls his eyes, not yet in the mood for jokes. you lean your head against the locked door, hearing a soft sniff from inside.

"the sooner you accept it, the better it will be for you. i promise."

"you say it like it's easy."

"it's not. i still cry myself to sleep. but i like to pretend that i own the ship, and that all of those people in those pods are my peasants who are coming to serve me on my new planet."

you hear a faint chuckle, and your heart feels lighter.

"besides, once i show you everything, you'll see just how irrelevant our lives are compared to the whole universe. it's beautiful, yeosang."

"you can see outside?"

"yes. i'll take you to the cockpit, if you promise to have a proper breakfast."

you hear water running, and you assume he is washing his hands. "how do you know it's morning? isn't it always dark out there?"

"funnily enough, my digital watch still works. the battery did not run out yet. currently, it is ten in the morning on earth. i even let you sleep in! how generous of me."

he opens the door, causing you to stumble forward into him. he catches you before your head can hit his chest, and it is then that you realize just how big his hands are. you smile awkwardly, stepping back.

"let's go."

yeosang chooses a simple breakfast; cereal and a banana. you order your usual, the blueberry muffin and chocolate milk having you in a chokehold since the first day you woke up. you feel like a peasant who was allowed into his lord's house, eating like a starved farmer while yeosang eats like a sophisticated prince. he taps the napkin on the corners of his mouth every few moments, doesn't graze the spoon against the bowl and doesn't slurp the milk. you, on the other hand, have made a mess not only on the table, but on your lap and floor as well.

"so, uh..." he trails, moving the emptied bowl aside and reaching for the yellow fruit, "what's the plan?"

"are we talking short term or long term?" you also finish the muffin and set the paper wrap aside.

"let's stick to short for now."

"i thought i'd give you a tour of the ship. find you a room, spare clothes and such. the ship is like a city floating through space. my childhood town didn't have this many things to do."

the man laughs lightly, fidgeting with the banana. he doesn't peel it yet, his thoughts so intense they're almost audible. you call his name, once, twice. he doesn't respond. hesitantly, you reach over to put your hand over his. he ceases his fidgeting, his gaze locking with yours. the whites of his eyes are red and glossy again, and being the sensitive person you are, your eyes start burning too. you let out a shaky sigh, trying your hardest not to break down in front of him. he avoids your gaze again, seeing what he did to you.

"i'm going to sound mean and horrible. i know you might have a spark of hope left, and i want to tell you that you should get rid of it right away. hope will only worsen your pain. there is nothing we can do, yeosang. we can't turn the ship around, we are already years away. we will make it just in time for us to die of old age. we can't wake up any of the crew or loved ones, who would put them to sleep again? one of us would have to stay back again. and if you're thinking of the worst... well, i can't stop you there. i'll try, but the ship is huge. i won't be able to keep up with you if you do decide to take that step."

the blonde man sniffles, wiping his cheeks with the back of his free hand. his other one still subconsciously holds onto yours, thumb lightly caressing your skin and comforting you.

"if you, however, do decide... please let me know. so i can prepare to be alone again." your voice trembles, and tears finally set themselves free.

yeosang squeezes your hand, then put his other one over it and keeping it warm. he just now realizes how hard you also have it. he feels selfish, dumping all his sadness on you and not thinking about your feelings at all. you are a stranger, but if you are going to live on the ship with him, might as well try and make friends with you. otherwise, it would be awkward to coexist together.

"so, the cockpit?"

"woah, take me to dinner first."

as you help ryan, the robot you both named, clean up the table, yeosang takes the time to examine the bar.

"so he makes all the food too?"

"there's a couple machines back there, not humanoid though. enough to know a medium rare steak and fries. you'll need all the protein you can get."

he hums, then gets out of the way so that ryan can get the dishes cleaned. you wait near the table, not rushing him yet. he needs time, as much as you still need it. but one of you needs to be the tough one, or you won't last. as soon as he makes his overthinking face, you are quick to grab his elbow and drag him with you.

"there's more to the ship than the bar and the lobby."

when back in the said lobby, you release his elbow and continue down a different path. the short, tube-like hallway is the same as the one before, this time leading into a different room.

"this is the storage. spare clothes, towels, hygiene supplies and such can be found here. further down, see that door? those are the showers. but there is a shower in each of the vip rooms. you can pick whichever room you want when we get there."

"sounds nice."

you show him the gym and the small terrarium, before continuing through the main door of the lobby. yeosang watches in awe as you take out a silver card from the pocket of your sleepwear top and scan it.

"where did you get that?"

"found it in the hibernation room when i woke up. it was locked in a little glass box, it said something like break in case of emergency. seemed emergency enough for me. sadly, it did not have any codes to operate the pods."

the circular door opens smoothly in a spiral, opening a whole new hallway. this one isn't like the previous ones. it is wide, and it rotates around its axis. and it doesn't have a floor. it is simply a tube. the door closes behind you when you step over threshold, and yeosang flinches.

"uh..."

"trust me. take my hand."

everything yeosang does recently is with hesitation. and you understand him, truly. but at least he has someone to guide him. you had nobody. once his hand slides into yours, you don't give him time to ask anything before jumping inside the tube. his heavy body floats in the air, following after you. you can't help the smile that spreads on your lips when yeosang looks up. his jaw is dropped, and his eyes shine orange under the sunlight.

he is speechless, face pressed against the rotating glass like a child against a store window. you swim over to him, also pressing your nose against the cold glass. he is witnessing the first sunset on a different planet, and his heart flutters at the sight.

"it is..." he starts, but doesn't finish.

"i know. there's no word for it, is there?"

"not really, no. beautiful? glorious? breathtaking? none of it seems enough to describe it. it is... strange. different. scary."

you hum, looking down at the dense clouds of the yellow planet. "our earth is so much more beautiful, though. couldn't live on such a dull planet."

"do you think anyone lives down there?"

you shrug, not having thought about it.

"do you think anyone lives on the planet where we are headed? just how advanced is our science and astronomy? for all we know, we could get crushed by a single step from some giant as soon as we land. then all of this was for nothing."

it is the first time you hear him talk more, and you don't dare interrupt him. he has a lovely voice, a deep tone with a soft lisp. you smile to yourself, wondering if anyone pointed that cute trait out to him.

"i guess it doesn't matter for the two of us anyway. not like we are going to live to see it."

"such a ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

he chuckles, sparing you a single glance before flying off to the other side. the planet is enormous, even with the distance the ship keeps with it. their home star seems tiny, but you know that it is just very far away. it might be stronger and way bigger than the sun you know.

"how fun would it be if a fleet came rushing to the ship and they imprisoned us? made us work for them and all?"

"yeosang!"

almost half an hour later, you had to peel yeosang from the windows that were now full of face and finger prints. he whines, but doesn't have much power over his body like you do. you learned to navigate the zero gravity spaces, while he is just getting used to them. you effortlessly pull him through the tube, taking one last glance at the yellow giant below the ship before landing on a floor again. he doesn't succeed, instead landing on his hands and almost his face. the door closes behind you, and smoke fills the small hallway.

"pressure stabilized. you may proceed."

"thank you!" you yell, skipping towards the new doors.

"they can... hear you?"

"huh? oh, no they can't. that's just the automatic system. but it is a habit of mine, to talk to these machines. i had to speak somehow, or to something, otherwise i would've lost it."

"understandable."

using the card, you open another door. each time you do, you are amazed at the mechanics. everything is very futuristic, and no door opens with a doorknob. they are either sensor or card activated, and they always open unusually. from those that spirally open, to those that slide up or down. you love the noises they make when they do so.

"these are the vip rooms. we still have to figure out how we will use the card, since there is only one and you need it to move around. i can unlock the room you want so you don't have to look for me every time you want to go to your room, but that's all the card can unlock. i'll check with ryan if we can duplicate it for other doors."

"he was incapable of pushing a few buttons, think he can replicate a whole card?"

"doesn't hurt to try. anyway, pick a room!" you hand him the card, motioning to the sensors near the doors. "feel free to check out each one of them."

he wants to take the first one, without exploring the rest. but you pressure him into seeing others, claiming there might be better ones. truth is, you've claimed the best one for yourself. but he doesn't need to know that.

"oh, wow." he breathes out, entering the last room at the far end.

it has a simple white bed, already made with pillows and sheets, a desk and a few shelves above it. it has a door that leads to his own bathroom, and a small dresser. a circular window just above the bed takes yeosang's attention again. he smiles, then turns towards you.

"this one."

"you sure?"

"positive. i'd love to wake up to that view every morning."

"then, it is settled. you have your own bathroom and shower, so you won't have to go out all the way back to the lobby. there's also a minibar, it gets restocked once every two weeks for now. but i found a way to change it. it's just a few drinks and snacks."

he nods, still taking in the room.

"anyways, i'd like to call it a day. the cockpit will have to wait. you should refresh yourself, there is towels in the drawers under the bed and spare clothes in the dresser. it's only sleepwear, but fresh. the dirty clothes go in that bin by the door, it gets automatically dumped in the washing machine in the storage room every morning."

"wow, you've really done some exploring."

"guess i have. have fun. i'll unlock the room, then i'll be right across the hall if you need me."

"thank you, y/n."

a few days later, a knock wakes you up. you glance at the watch, and seeing that it is three in the morning, you groan.

"yes?"

"are you awake?"

"now i am."

"sorry."

you stay silent, waiting for him to continue. but he doesn't. you hear shuffling outside the door, then footsteps. you roll your eyes before dragging your body out of the comfortable bed. you open the door, only to find him very much awake and dressed in fresh clothes, on his way back to his room.

"what is it?"

"what's the time?" he turns around at your voice.

"three in the morning."

"oh."

you stare at each other in silence for a few moments. you raise an eyebrow, amused with his behaviour. "well?"

"right. i was bored. i don't know what to do. i can't sleep."

"then... go to the gym?"

"i forgot how to get there. is there anything else to do? where did you get that book you were reading?"

"ah, the library"

"there's a library?!"

"um, yes. not many books, though. mostly classics, only a small young adult and fantasy section. a few comics here and there. it is on the other side of the ship, though. want to borrow mine until tomorrow?"

his cheeks flush at the sight of the book, remembering the themes of it. a little reading can't hurt. besides, he hasn't had any activity in a while. not with himself either.

"sure."

"want to hang here while you read? if you start feeling sleepy you can just sleep in that other bed." you offer, gesturing towards the bed across the one you have occupied.

"sure, if you don't mind."

"make yourself comfy. the minibar is still stocked, feel free to take anything."

it doesn't take long for you to jump back into bed, warming it up and scrunching the pillow beneath your head. it is just not high enough. with your head turned towards the window, you can see yeosang's reflection. he sits cutely on the bed, back pressed against the slightly curved wall and knees pressed to his chest. his blonde locks fall over his eyes, and he blows upwards every now and then to remove them. you smile to yourself before dozing off.

the second time you are woken up, it is by soft whimpers coming from behind you. a wave of heat washes over your body, seeing the reflection in the window. yeosang lays on the bed, the book halfway finished but discarded on the floor next to the bed. he bucks his hips into his hand, which is wrapped around his pretty pink cock. the veins on his hands are bulging, like the ones on his cock, and you have to fight every urge in you to not jump on him.

you shiver at his moans, getting louder and more... pathetic. carefully, your hand slides from under the pillow and under the blanket, reaching the heat between your legs. he chokes on his own moans, gasping and whining more as he works his way to an orgasm. your other hand sits on your mouth, stopping any noise from escaping. you don't tease yourself, there is no need. you are wet enough for your fingers to slide inside of you easily, and you immediately start pumping.

light squelching is heard in the small room, and you are not sure if it is him or you. either way, the noises are driving you insane, and you hate that you cannot quicken your pace.

yeosang is a gorgeous man, and you found yourself having a crush on him the moment you saw him. but you never thought of him this way. he was just too sweet and innocent looking. now? seeing his veiny hands work on himself, pretty lips creating noises you didn't know men could make, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his face and neck, you might just be in trouble.

"fuck-" he whispers, hips becoming sloppier with each thrust.

you use the last few moments of his lack of attention before his orgasm to speed up your fingers, inching yourself closer and closer, until a wave of pleasure washes over you and blurs your vision for a moment. you bite into your hand, legs squeezing shut from the intense pleasure. you did touch yourself occasionally during these few weeks, but nothing was as strong and intense as this. and none of it was because of yeosang.

you realize you missed his orgasm, and can't help but frown. you would've loved to see it. his pretty eyes rolling back, and his breathing getting shallow as he loses himself to pleasure. he has already composed himself while you were still getting down from your high. he stands up, puts the book on the nightstand near your bed, then makes his way back to your bathroom.

by the time he comes back, you are already asleep from exhaustion.

"tell me about yourself." he says the next morning.

"ask away." you respond, already out of breath.

the treadmill was never your friend. yeosang had joined you right after you warmed up, and you were the one blushing this time. every time you look at him, you see his sweaty face from last night. not a sight to complain about, but you could've done without it.

"i don't know. favorite colour? movie? song? are there such things on the ship?"

"there is a selection of songs. a couple from each period, as samples to show if there is anyone where we are going. well, they. and a few movies, i think. also some popular ones from each period. they have game of thrones, too."

"ah, i never watched it."

"really? i started it on the ship. didn't know what else to do. i am not watching the godfather or star wars again. so far it seems good. jon snow is to die for."

yeosang looks at you, confused. "i don't know who that is."

"if you want to watch with me, i'll show you. i haven't shown you the theater yet anyway."

you stop the treadmill, jumping off it and sitting on the floor for a moment. your legs burn, but it is satisfying discomfort. you wait for yeosang to dismount the stationery bicycle, not looking at his bottom whatsoever. not fair how it is better shaped than yours. he is speaking to you, but you are busy admiring his body. he always hides under the loose sleepwear, this is the first time you see him properly. he wears a tight athletic fit, showing off his broad shoulders and thin waist.

"is that okay?"

"what?" you accidentally yell, then slap your hand over your mouth.

he laughs, running his fingers through his damp hair and glancing at you over his shoulder. "i asked if you want to have dinner? i know we usually skip it from lack of moving during the day, but i am going to be here for a while. i'm going to need some food before bed."

"of course. i was thinking the same. any dress code?" you joke.

"i mean, you can dress fancy. why not? who's stopping us?"

"what, are you going to wear, like, a tuxedo or something?"

"i'll figure something out." he gets off the bicycle, sending you a playful wink.

you find yourself blushing under his gaze, but you do not look away. he is just too mesmerizing to look at. where has this man been hiding down on earth?

"need help getting up?"

"uh, i think i might skip the bike. my legs are too shaky. i'll stay on the floor for a while."

"you'll catch a cold. come here."

without a warning, his hands position themselves on your waist, and so effortlessly pick your aching body up. you hold onto his shoulders, flabbergasted. there is no motive, other than being helpful, but you can't help the sudden rush you feel between your legs. imagining him manhandling you, throwing you around as he likes, wrapping his hand around your neck as you struggle to breathe and beg him for more.

"i'll help you." he sets you down on the yoga mat, then gently pushes you to lay down. "you have to warm up more and stretch yourself."

"if i start warming myself up more, i won't have the energy for a proper exercise."

"come on, don't be dramatic. i'll show you now, alright?"

"fine."

you lay back, eyes looking up at the open ceiling. millions of white and yellow dots glimmer all across the dark void. yeosang's hands slide from your waist to your leg, gently rubbing the thigh. he puts light pressure on it, and it only increases the muscle pain. but you trust him, so you let him continue. he does the same to your other thigh, and repeats the process with your calves. he then sets his hands on your ankles, slowly pushing your feet across the mat until your knees are propped up. he doesn't stop there, picking your ankles off the floor and slowly pressing your knees to your chest.

"oh, fuck me." you gasp in pain, shutting your eyes and reaching for something to hold onto.

your fingers can't grasp the tight fabric of the athletic shirt, so you resort for digging your nails into his shoulders. he holds you in that position for a few moments, then slowly releases and straightens your legs out again. then again, and again, until you are sweating with pain.

"you're doing good," he hushes, "just a bit more. you can handle it for me, can't you?"

"i guess, yeah."

"good girl."

before you can respond with anything other than a grunt, yeosang presses your knees against your chest one more time, this time leaning his body against you. his body is firm, and big. he hovers over you, his crotch dangerously close to yours. if you moved just a few inches, you'd be grinding on him. he stays still for a moment, not breaking eye contact as he causes delicious pain, and you can't help but think about other ways he could stretch you.

"does it hurt?" he whispers.

"a little." you respond with an equal quiet voice.

"i'll get you used to it, don't worry."

it doesn't feel like he is talking about the warmup anymore. but you decide not to risk it. he could really mean it in an innocent and helpful manner, and you would be the lust driven fool who has ruined the only friendship you are going to have in your life. you remove your hands from his shoulders, then gently press them against his chest to push him away. he doesn't budge, but takes the message and moves himself. he is so much stronger than he looks, and it drives you crazy. such an angelic face, with such a sculpted body.

"i think i'll finish early today. if i continue, i won't have the strength to even dress for the dinner, let alone reach the restaurant."

"alright, then. eight tonight?"

"sounds good. got your card?"

he retrieves the shiny item from his back pocket and flashes it your way. "right here."

"great. i'll see you tonight, then. with my fancy clothes." you laugh, picking up the items you have scattered around the gym.

"ditto."

you raid the storage room, looking for anything that is not gym clothes or sleepwear. roaming around the ship, you find the luggage room. hundreds of bags, all full to the brim. you're sure they won't mind if you borrow something. not your fault your father made you pack simple childish clothes and only a handful of makeup.

eight o'clock rolls around quickly, and you may or may not be running late. your room is a mess, makeup scattered all over the desk and nightstand, and clothes piling up on the bed. you do not know what you've pulled from what bag. it's not like you'll be alive to hear them confront you anyway. you had heard yeosang's door shut ten minutes ago, and no matter how much you rush, it seems that everything is working against you. your hair was frizzier than ever, and you hated having it any other way than down. tonight, however, you do not wish to look like you just woke up and forgot about the dinner. you resort for a simple hairclip, pulling out a few strands of hair to frame your face. finally, you feel decent enough to leave the room.

yeosang hears the clicking of shoes, then stands up. his jaw drops at the sight, and he almost forgets to talk. he hasn't seen you with your hair up, ever, not in the gym either. you had some sort of a loose braid, but loose and messy enough to look how you normally do your hair. your face is exposed completely, along with your neck. yeosang was never one to gawk at a woman, but the way the deep red colour of the evening gown complimented your skin and the fabric hugged your curves had him stuttering. your lips had a red tint, with a hint of glitter, both matching the dress. the dress sparkles under the lights as you walk over to him, like the stars yeosang looks at all day and night.

"don't you look handsome." you smile.

he wears a loose, slightly see through black shirt, with nothing underneath. your mouth waters at the sight of the outline of his chest and abs. you so desperately want to run your nails down his torso. he also wears black slacks, and polished black shoes. his hair is tamed, falling in soft blonde locks around his face and showing his eyes properly.

"you look... uh-" his gaze roams your body, up and down multiple times. it lingers on your lace up heels, and if you looked at him for just a bit longer, you would see the way he gulped and licked his lips. "you look dashing."

"thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet."

he pulls out the chair for you, and that simple act already gives you butterflies. as you sit and look at the menu, as if it's your first time seeing it, you can't help but think whether this is a date. you fear to ask. two people looking good and sitting down for dinner doesn't always mean a date, right? even when they keep blushing at each other every few moments?

"are those your clothes?" you ask, chewing on the appetizer.

"no, actually. borrowed them from some guy named seonghwa, i think it said on the bag. he has good taste. i might borrow more things from him once in a while. what about you? that dress has to be yours, it looks like it was made for you."

"i borrowed it from some lady. seems that she only took evening gowns with her. from all of this, only the hair clip is mine."

yeosang nods, shoving a bruschetta in his mouth. "you look pweffy wif your hair up."

"what?" you laugh, taking the last appetizer from the sharing plate.

"i said..." he swallows, "you look pretty with your hair up. you should wear it like that more often."

"will do, sir."

two hours of eating, conversing and laughing later, you drag yeosang from his seat to dance. it has to be the prosecco speaking, because you would never ask him such a thing sober. especially because you can't dance.

"there is no music," he stands in front of you, hands resting on your waist.

he is slightly tipsy, but the sober one between the two of you. you wrap your hands around his neck, and call ryan.

"yes, miss?"

"put on some music, please."

"right away, miss. do you wish for anything specific?"

"play something by elvis."

even though you claim you can't dance, your body moves itself to the soft rhythm of the music. you sway your hips and move your feet to match the blonde man. both of you still have hands firmly planted on the others body, and eyes locked with each other. this time, neither of you look away. something about this moment is so beautiful, and so sad. you have each other, but are alone. you try to make the best out of the situation, but both of you are terrified. you have only learned to mask it well so you can keep each other strong.

but tonight, neither of you holds back tears. you let them freely spill, feeling vulnerable in each others arms. you tremble under his touch, afraid to let go. his thumb grazes your cheek, wiping the new tears away and caressing your skin in the process. this time, it is his turn to comfort you. he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug while still swaying to the rhythm of the music. his head rests in the crook of your neck, nose nuzzling against your exposed skin. you have your head buried into his chest, while your hands rest on his back and fingers scrunch the light material of the shirt.

"you smell nice." he compliments softly.

you scoff through tears. "it's a new shampoo."

"macadamia?"

"yeah. was feeling like autumn today."

"i like it. better than my old spice supply."

it feels comforting to silently cry into his chest. after being the one comforting him and staying strong for a long time, it is his turn to cheer you up. he holds your face in his hands, thumbs relentlessly wiping tears away.

"as beautiful as you look even when you cry, i'll have to interrupt with a fun discovery i've made a few days ago."

your cheeks heat up at the compliment. nobody has ever told you anything like that. even at your lowest, he makes you feel pretty.

"a discovery?"

"yeah. i saved it for tonight. come with me." the brown eyed man smiles at you before offering his hand for you to take.

"but slow down, these heels are quite uncomfortable." you accept his warm hand, taking it like you were made for it.

he stays still for a few moments, gaze locked on the black platform heels. a squeal leaves your lips when yeosang takes your body in his hands, carrying you bridal style. you hold onto his neck, and press your head against his shoulder for support.

"wait, the card! i left it on the table."

yeosang makes his way back to the table, then lowers you enough for you to grab the card. you playfully put it between your teeth, then wrap your arms around his neck again. as he walks, you nearly drift off on his shoulder. the soft clicking of his shoes against the floor, his scent, and his occasional humming gives you a sense of serenity. he smells of vanilla and bourbon, and it is a big refreshment from all the ocean breezes and sport rushes. seeing him order the glass of bourbon made your stomach flutter, as you were used to men only ordering beer or a rum-coke. he took small sips of it, a complete opposite to you who finished two glasses before getting to desert. the third one we shall not mention.

you feel him stop, and you open your eyes. you look at a door you've never seen before. looking around, you notice lockers lined up on the wall and a screen hanging in the middle of the room.

"i'll put you down now."

he sits you on the bench under the screen, then crouches in front of you and reaches for the card still nestled between your teeth. you move your head away, sitting on your hands. he scoffs, then reaches again. but you are stubborn. you move your head away once again, causing him to sigh and rest his hands on your knees for support.

"can i have the card please?"

you finally lean in, getting to his eye level. his eyes watch your lips sparkle, just like the card that is stuck between them. the tips of his ears become hot again, and he is glad that his hair is covering them today.

finally getting the hint, the man sighs, playing annoyed. he leans in, hands squeezing your knees, before he takes the other end of the card in his teeth. you almost giggle out loud, not actually expecting him to do that. he takes his sweet time retrieving it, slowly pulling it from your mouth and keeping his gaze locked with yours. you finally let go, accidentally leaving a red lip stain on your side of it.

he then transfers it to his hand, while using his other one to poke your forehead. "you really are something."

"that's right, poke the weak."

"you're going to have to take your heels off for this."

you groan, throwing your head back dramatically. "do i have to?"

"why, too lazy?"

"maybe."

yeosang rolls his eyes, then takes your leg and places it over his lap. his fingers place the card back between his teeth, this time the side with your lipstick on it. something about the whole situation is insanely intimate, and you might beg him to just chain you up on the side of the ship so you don't do anything. he begins untying the laces of the heel, making sure to graze your skin accidentally with his knuckles. you feel his warm breath on your skin, and can't help but squeeze your thighs together. it is only then you realize that he can see up your dress. but he chooses not to.

"you do it so naturally. do you usually take girl's heels off?"

a pinch to your thigh causes you to jump and yelp, and you use your other leg to gently bump his shoulder with the tip of the heel. he doesn't react, only smirking to himself while still looking down and working on the halfway undone lace. you repeat the action, feeling mischievous and set on seeing what he'll do. on the third bump, yeosang grabs your ankle, yanking it forward along with your body and looks up at you.

your legs are now slightly spread, and he can easily look if he wanted to. but he still doesn't. his eyes stay locked with yours, no longer a playful glint in them. his pupils are dilated, causing his eyes to appear darker than usual. a gulp goes down your throat painfully slow, realization hitting you. he might not like this type of teasing and joking, and you might've pushed it too far. after all, he is trying to do a nice thing for you here. he is crouching on the ground for you, for god's sake.

"stay still." he almost growls, voice low and stern.

you nod, your eyes falling down on the leg in his lap. then, you notice the bulge in his pants. he might not be as angry as you thought after all. you stifle a smirk and decide to sit still and make it easier for him.

the man finally takes off one of your heels, and when you want to set your bare foot on the floor, he keeps it still in his lap. the tiles are cold, he says. he works on the other one, taking his sweet time while you admire the room.

you wonder what it is, and where he is taking you. the room gently sways in your eyes, or it might just be you. whatever it is, you trust him.

"feeling better?" he rubs your red and bruised soles. as comforting as it feels, you have to remove them before you drip through your dress and on the bench.

no man was ever this gentle and caring with you. yeosang doesn't even have that kind of relationship with you, and he is already way ahead of all the men you've ever been with. you might've just hit the jackpot with him. spending your life on this ship alone with him doesn't seem like the worst way to live.

"yes, better. thank you, yeosang. you're very sweet. who taught you how to be a gentleman?"

"my sister. that dumbass." he scoffs.

he then proceeds describing how he learned from her horrible boyfriends. they were always selfish, and she always felt alone even when she was in a relationship. she mostly felt used, ignored, and a second choice. yeosang would witness them coming home, doing the deed, then leaving because they had plans with the boys. she cried often, and even though she always slammed the door in yeosang's face whenever he wanted to comfort her, she was grateful that he won't grow up to be like them.

"your sister sounds nice. i've only had asshole brothers."

"well, none of them are in our way now. my sister won't suffer for another nine hundred years, and you won't see your asshole brothers for the rest of your life."

you continue rambling about how strict your father always was, how your mother only listened and rarely ever defended you against his accusations and your brothers' bullying, and how you had to hide every relationship and never got to enjoy them properly. although, now that you think about it, you had the same experience as his sister. you are glad not to be stuck with someone like them.

"now, wear this for me. there's a changing room right there. and don't ask. i promise, it will be worth it."

you feel like a child after coming out of the dressing room, standing up when he tells you, turning around and facing a certain direction. you both wear tight black clothes, and he checks the screen every now and then. once he makes sure that you are wearing the clothes properly, he opens one of the lockers.

"no." your jaw drops in disbelief.

"yes." he says, happily pulling out an astronaut suit.

"yeosang, that- is that safe? i mean, you're not thinking about leaving the ship, are you? this is just dress up, isn't it?" you ramble.

"it is perfectly safe. you told me once to trust you. now, it's your turn to trust me. why do you get to show me the cool stuff around here, but i don't get to do that for you?"

"yes, but... this is outside the ship. it's open space!"

yeosang helps you put the suit on, despite your ranting. you hold onto his shoulders while you put your legs in the boot part of the suit, then your arms until yeosang zips it up. it feels like you already have dozens of layers on you. he stifles a chuckle, and you squint at him.

"what is it?"

"you look like a penguin."

"yeah, well, so do you."

"i know. you just look cute."

he turns around to grab the gloves and helmet, leaving you to blush by yourself while he finishes zipping himself up. he brought back the fear you had forgotten about; fear of the unknown and stranded. at least if something happens, you are not alone.

"head up." you do so, and he connects an oxygen and communication system to the suit, then rolls up the collar of the undersuit so that it protects your neck and head, leaving only your face visible. "good girl."

"you need to stop saying that." you blurt out.

"and you need to stop teasing me every few minutes. there is only so much i can take."

"you're the one to talk! you always-"

"hey." his hand grabs your jaw, turning your head to look at him and stopping your complaining. "behave. or else."

"or else...?" you whisper, the prosecco still pulling the worst in you.

he leans in, noses almost touching and lips close enough to feel his warmth on yours. he looks into your eyes, then down at your lips, still holding your jaw in his hand. "or else i might just have to tame you somehow."

you gulp audibly. he smirks at that, then lets go of you and proceeds to put your helmet on. you feel frustrated. he is playing your game, and he is winning. you are supposed to make him blush and stutter, not the other way around.

"there, all fixed. can you breathe?"

"yes."

"can you hear me?"

"duh."

"through the system, dummy." he laughs, tapping on the wire that connects inside the suit.

"ah, yes. i can."

"good. i hope you don't have to pee."

"don't remind me of that! i had half a bottle of prosecco and am wearing like a hundred layers."

"good. no more pee talk. let's do this."

yeosang slides the card on the door, and enters the small space. when it closes, the space fills with smoke and lots of lights start going off and on.

"pressure stabilized."

"thank you!" he yells, playful smile dancing on his lips.

with a frown, you hit his arm for mocking you. he gently nudges you, as if pushing you away. you both know that if he wanted to, he could've pushed you way harder. and it makes you a little horny.

just in time, yeosang slides the card near the other door, then puts the card safely in the suit pocket and zips it. the round door opens, sliding up and revealing the dark void. instinctively, you grab his hand with two of yours. clinging to him like a sloth, you stand on the edge of the spaceship and look down. it strange that when you step over the threshold, no gravity will pull you down.

"wait!" you stop him before he steps over. "have you done this already?"

"uh... yes? i mean, i didn't go far or stay long. i think i hung for a few seconds from that handle and rushed back in. was scared shitless, honestly."

"you fool!" you hit him again, multiple times.

"ow! hey, what, what?!"

"you went to test it alone? you could've- you could've injured yourself! or worse! something could've gone wrong, and i would be all alone again!"

"you didn't think i'd bring you here before seeing if it's safe, did you? what if only one of us survived, the other would have to live with that guilt until the end of their life." he explains, holding you by your shoulders and gently shaking you as he speaks. "i know we've known each other only for a little over a month now, but i'd never do that to you. we only have each other, and i'd never do anything to leave you alone on this thing. i promise."

"promise?" your bottom lip quivers.

he sighs, closing his eyes and leaning his helmet against yours, as if leaning his forehead. "i promise."

"i believe you."

"good. otherwise, this would be a very bad idea."

with that, he pulls you over the edge, holding onto the handle on the outer surface of the ship. you squeal, legs wiggling in the unknown and arms firmly wrapped around his free one. he holds you close, not yet moving until he is sure that everything looks fine.

"i'll let go now, alright?"

"what if we drift away?"

"we won't, i tied us up to the ship. we can get back whenever we want."

you give yeosang only a few minutes of silence, before bombarding him with questions again. he answers every single one he knows, assuring you that he has everything under control. using the moment when you are focused on something on your space suit, he slowly lets go of the handle. as soon as you feel yourself drifting away, you glue yourself to his side, even going so far to wrap your legs around his.

"y/n, you'll have to let me go. i can't move like this."

"i'm scared."

"you want to go back?"

"no."

"then," he peels you away from himself, instead holding your hand properly in his. "let go."

you now float in the void, holding his hand and admiring the ship from the outside.

"you're looking the wrong way, doll. turn around."

due to the strange and spine-chilling situation you are in, you miss his little nickname directed at you. with his help, you slowly turn your back to the ship, and focus on the newfound space.

"look, down there." he points to the side.

"oh my god!" you exclaim, fear and excitement mixing inside of you. "what is that?!"

it is a bright, giant cloud of shiny dust. it has a light pink hue and a faded purple in the center.

"it's a nebula." he simply says.

"aren't they more colorful? i mean... that's just looks like a space cloud. it's nothing like the photos they send to us."

"ah, those images are taken with long exposure to capture all the lights, and edited later. our eyes cannot process all of those colours, so they sometimes add them on later."

"oh. well, nevertheless, it is stunning. it looks so glorious. i want to touch it."

"no, y/n, you can't touch the remains of a dead star."

"but why not?" you play along, acting like the spoiled child.

both of you laugh, holding onto each other and staring at the beauty of this frightening place.

"how did they calculate the trajectory? what if they missed some asteroid or something?"

"please don't talk about asteroids while we pathetically hang from a space ship in the void. i beg."

"sorry," you smile sheepishly.

"had enough? want to go back?" he asks, checking on your suit.

"not yet."

"want to go a bit furth-"

a snap interrupts him, coming from the ship. before you can look that way, yeosang pushes you away from him just in time, and you scream. a white object passes between the two of you, close enough to hit you. another snap is heard, then another. you finally look at the ship, right before more objects start flying at you. one of the smaller debris hits you, right in the helmet, sending your body further away. a few moments of silence pass, both you and yeosang going through shock. until you hear slight wheezing, and feel cool air on your face.

one of the boards on the surface on the ship must've come loose and broke into pieces. you gasp, body and soul reaching for the man now far away from you.

"i'm coming!" he man yells, panicked. but the communication starts glitching. it cuts off his words, and soon enough, you can't hear him anymore.

the air becomes harder to breathe, and lack of oxygen could kill you, if fear doesn't do it first. your vision becomes spotty, and yeosang's figure slowly starts blending in with the nebula behind him. you try covering the crack with your hand, and it helps for a short amount of time. you accidentally apply more pressure on it, causing the helmet to further break and wheezing intensify. the system begins to go crazy, sending you signals and urging you to get back on the ship. dozens of beeping noises, red lights and whatnot going off in your suit, yet all you can focus on is yeosang's failed attempts to reach you.

"yeosang..." you call, hoping he might answer.

but he doesn't, instead working with his arms and legs to get to you.

"keep... eyes... open... please..." his voice echoes inside the helmet, broken and mixed with robotic sounds. "take... hand... try... reach..."

"i can't," you breathe out, eyes closing. it is the last thing he hears from you.

"no!"

your vision blackens, and you stop the squirming, instead letting your body in the control of the cosmos. maybe that's how it was supposed to be from the beginning. no escaping doomsday, no ships, no wandering in the void, no claiming other planets. maybe humans were supposed to be the ones with limited knowledge. they weren't meant to go this far. or maybe the human race is simply that insignificant, compared to everything else. just a small, useless percent among the stars. the universe will stand, and continue being terrifyingly beautiful and endless, with or without us.

it feels like the right way to go. a punishment, for escaping your fate and leaving others to die a terrible death.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, god i'm so sorry."

you couldn't have known, yeosang.

"i should've known, i should've stayed inside."

there was no way for you to know, yeosang.

"i should've died the first time i went, so you know not to do that."

don't speak such things, yeosang. maybe it was meant to be this way from the beginning.

"you don't deserve this, i do."

if you knew what i did, you would know that nobody deserves this like i do.

"please don't die on me, please. what do i do without you?"

you'll make it. you'll just have to do what i did. but you'll hate yourself for the rest of your life.

"none of it makes sense without you."

you'll hate yourself every time you look at their face. like i hate myself when i look at you.

"i- i think i love you. i don't think i'll make it without you."

i wish i could say it back without the guilt eating up my heart. i wish i could say all of this out loud to you, and not in my head. and yes, you will make it, yeosang.

kang yeosang hasn't eaten in days. the restaurant remains empty, as does the gym, and the discovered library, although with a few empty shelves. he sits on the cold floor of the emergency room, books scattered around him and one nestled in his hand.

"it is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. however little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their daughters." he reads, voice raspy and tired.

there is a pile to his right, and a smaller one to his left. he reads from morning to night, even though the stars and moons do not show it. he sits there, reading page after page, all to you who lay on the bed in the middle. he lowers the book after a while, glancing at your sleeping body.

"you know, if you've already read pride & prejudice, i can skip it. now that i think of it, you might've already read everything i read to you these days. sorry. must be torture."

already used to not getting replies from you, he sets the book down with a sigh. he folds the corner of the page, marking where he stopped reading. if you were awake, a poke to his forehead would be guaranteed, if not worse. he laughs, remembering the first time you discovered he did that.

"i'm sorry, are you ill? what the hell are you doing to my books?!"

"first of all, they're not yours. second, it's just a book. and third, to answer your question: i'm folding the corner."

"my lord, i have just lost all my respect for you. please exit my chambers."

"gosh, stop reading game of thrones already. if i get called lord one more time, i'm jumping into the nearest black hole."

"i am the queen of the ship, i do as i wish."

"and what does that make me?"

"you can be my queen hand."

"not your king consort?"

"ha! you wish. your house and blood is no match for mine, yeosang of house kang."

"whatever you say, your grace."

yeosang had forgotten about his own room. he hung out with you all day, and slept in the bed opposite to yours. for the first time in a while, he didn't think about what's outside, and what fate awaits him. he enjoyed the moment, enjoyed making you laugh and pissed. he loved how you could switch from giggly to angry in a split second, only from him tickling you too much.

now? he can tickle you as much as he wants, but you won't budge. you breathe, but you don't show any other signs of consciousness. he has raided every room there is, looking for any medical help in any form. he asked ryan, though he should've known better than that. i am not programmed for that kind of procedure, sir. yeosang already knew that sentence before it was said. it took everything in him to not smack the robot, but he heard your voice in the back of his head, defending the soulless thing.

he stands up, setting the book aside on the pile that is waiting to be read. he approaches the circular table, where he has laid you, stripped you of the heavy spacesuit and only left the first layer of tight clothes, then covered you with a light blanket. he managed to connect a few tubes to your body, following the instructions on the screen above the table. he can now see your vitals, he just doesn't know what to do with it. he relies on the ai, hoping it is right.

"if you do not wake up soon, my queen, i will take your throne," he jokes, tapping a damp cloth on your forehead. "then what will you do?"

he unbuttons his silk sleep shirt and stays in his white tank top, suddenly feeling hot inside the room. he folds it on the table next to your head, and pushes the hair out of your face. the system beeps above his head, showing increased heartrate. he looks down at you, searching for any sign of consciousness other than breathing.

"can you hear me?"

your heartrate goes back to normal, dimming yeosang's hope. he finishes wiping the sweat off your forehead and neck, then gently squeezes your hand before sitting back on the floor and resuming his reading.

when he wakes up, he finds himself in his own room. how he got there, he could not recall. but he left your side, after he promised himself to not do that ever again. almost jumping out of bed, the man dashes down the halls, the shiny card in his hand still holding your lipstick stain as he presses it against the various door sensors. he reaches the emergency room in record time, and his heart almost stops. you aren't there.

the tubes once attached to your body now lie on the floor, and the blanket is neatly folded on the table. his sleep shirt is gone, along with the book he wasn't done reading to you. hands hurriedly rubbing his eyes, yeosang fails to process what happened. he rushes through the rest of the ship, searching every nook and cranny in hopes of seeing your face. even going to the place he has been avoiding for the past few days. the spacesuits and helmets still lay on the floor, forgotten. the cracked one delivers a pang to the blonde man's heart, a painful reminder of his careless acts and their consequences.

hopeless, he reaches one final spot. the cockpit.

he had promised you not to go there without you, and the other way around. both of you were waiting for a perfect opportunity, when both of you are sober and wide awake. that never happened.

yeosang breaks his promise, holding the card to the sensor. the doors slide open, revealing the long awaited cockpit. two tall chairs stand side by side, separated by a narrow control panel. in front of the chairs is a wider and more detailed control panel. and above it all, a panoramic window. the ship is flying through a nebula, its vivid colours taking yeosang aback. bright shades of orange, yellow and blue envelop the ship, reflecting in yeosang's wide eyes.

"you said that the colours are edited on photos. how dare you lie to your queen?"

the man steps back, recognizing your voice.

"y/n?"

"yes?" one of the chairs turns around, and you sit in it. with a smile on your lips, the lost book in your hand, and his sleep shirt hanging from your body. but all he sees is your face.

he exhales, relief washing over his body like never before. not able to control himself, he rushes towards you, picking you up from the chair and enveloping you in his arms. the book falls to the floor, your arms flying to return the hug. it never felt as right as now.

"gosh, how did you get here by yourself? are you hurt?" he sets you on the floor, cupping your face in his big palms. "are you alright?"

"i'm fine. a little dizzy."

"i thought i lost you."

not able to stop himself, yeosang presses his lips against your forehead. he stays there, inhaling your scent and listening to your breathing. your hands slide down from his neck and find their place on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. it beats fast, almost matching yours. he pulls away, resting his forehead against yours properly this time, not through a helmet.

"how dare you leave me alone?"

"is that a way to speak to your queen?"

he chuckles at your jokes, even in such moments. he should get used to it by now. his thumbs rub your cheekbones, soothing you and making whatever worry you had left perish. you can't help the tears that prickle your eyes when you look at him. his are as red and glossy, and it takes you over the edge.

you climb on your toes, properly reaching his face. his heart beats faster under your palm, as if threatening to jump out. slowly, and with a bit of hesitation, you press your lips against his. it is a mere two second kiss, before you pull away. you search his face for any emotions; disapproval, disgust, discomfort. yet none of those are present.

he has his eyes shut, still taking in the kiss. you want to pull away, to give him space. but his hands slide down to your waist, pressing your body against his. he leans in again, capturing your lips with his. his kiss is an opposite to yours: confident and sure. he pecks your lips once, twice, again and again, until you finally relax in his arms and let your hands roam his body. fingers finding comfort in his blonde locks, and body pressed firmly against his, you kiss him like it's your last.

his grip intensifies, his fingers buried into your sides as yours gently pull on his hair. he picks you up, only to set you back into the chair you've been sitting in all this time. he easily finds the button to lower the backrest and turn it into a temporary bed, then climbs on it with you. his lips are hungry for yours, and even though you could use a moment of breathing, you do not stop him. allowing yourself another moment of bravery, you gently lick his bottom lip, asking to deepen the kiss. and the man listens. he opens his lips, tongue in search for yours while your hands play with the collar of his tank top on his back. you slide one hand underneath, feeling his hot skin on yours.

gently, yeosang grazes your tongue with his, and you taste salty liquid on his lips. tears fall down both your faces, drops rolling down your cheeks and mixing in your mouths with the kiss. it is emotional, passionate, and intimate in every way. he pulls away for a split second, only to take a breath and look at you.

his chest rises and falls heavily, and his lips are plump and a deep pink. his hair is ruffled, your doing. he already looks breathtaking.

"is that... my sleep shirt?" he finally notices.

"oh, yeah. i was feeling a bit chilly, i borrowed it. want it back?"

"no, you can- oh."

you sit up, enough to let the white silk material slide off your skin and pool on the chair. you had stripped yourself from the tight undergarments yeosang had left you in, instead wearing a white bralette and matching lace panties. from the size of his sleep shirt, he didn't even notice that you weren't wearing the short bottoms you usually do.

the white has never complimented your skin as beautifully as today, right in this moment. yeosang can't help but remove your hair from your chest and neck, letting it fall back and exposing your body to him. you let him, taking your time in examining him as well. he runs his knuckles down your wet cheek, wiping the tears that decorate your face, and continues down your neck. his forefinger takes the lead, caressing your collarbones and making a path between your breasts.

you take his hand, guiding it to the outline of your panties. his breath seems to stop for a moment, but a gentle smile on your lips assures him that everything is alright. he groans, slamming his lips back on yours, this time sloppier and rougher. noses brushing against each other, teeth clashing, and hands hurriedly getting rid of clothes, it is all you've needed all this time.

him, all of him.

a thin layer of sweat coats his body, making his pale skin shine under the lights of the nebula. he peppers kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and settles on your collarbones.

"my queen," he whispers, then runs his tongue along your collarbone.

your fingers play with his damp locks, gently pushing his head towards you and inhaling his scent. he seems to have a fixation on the certain part of your body, because he can't help but mark it with purple spots. you hiss at the sweet pain, and yeosang is quick to lick your fresh wounds, as if apologizing for what he did.

he lingers around the area a bit more, switching between the crook of your neck and the collarbones, until he finally dips his head down to your breasts. a shiver runs down your spine when he cups them, giving them a gentle squeeze before kissing all over them. you tremble under his touch, hips desperately searching his for friction. but he lowers your body back on the chair, limiting your moves.

you forget just how strong he is, and him holding your body in place with a single hand reminds you how much he works on himself, even when his life has completely changed. a gasp escapes your lips as you feel the tip of his hot tongue circling your tense nipple. he catches it between his lips, gently sucking it while his other hand travels down your body. his short nails graze your skin, and you've never felt this sensitive in your life.

he pays attention to every inch of your body, showering it with love and passion, marking your skin as he goes and making you his in every way.

"yeosang-" you choke out, feeling him bite your lower stomach.

"yes?"

"please," you beg, running your nails down his bulk arms and shoulders.

"patience, love. you'll get where you want to. what's the rush? we have our own eternity."

the way he speaks in a hoarse voice has you seeing imaginary stars beside the real ones out the window. he pulls away from your body, just enough to plant a kiss on your damp forehead. he pulls you in for a kiss again, sighs of pleasure leaving both your mouths as you kiss and feel each other. his bare body finally leans against yours completely, and you instinctively spread your legs. his arm hooks under your knee, bending it over and caressing your thigh in the process.

"you're everything i've ever wished for." he whispers between kisses. "i just failed to see it. it took me losing you to understand that."

"yeosang..." his name rolls of your lips so sweetly in a light moan.

"i'm so sorry for what i did."

"don't apologize."

"i will. you almost died because of me."

"don't speak of that now," you hush him with another kiss.

he listens, putting his other hand on your other leg and gently spreading them. he falls to his knees, hands still firmly planted on your thighs. you try pushing them together, instinctively, but you should've known better than that. they stay in place under his grip, exposing your glistening core to his hungry eyes. it's almost like he can see the colorful dust cloud down there, the layer of arousal mimicking his sweat and reflecting the blue of the sky.

yeosang isn't in a rush, unlike you. your hand pathetically grips his hair, pushing his head towards your pulsating and burning core. he chuckles between your legs, cool air hitting your clit from the proximity.

"please?"

"what do you beg for, pretty?"

"don't tease me, i've waited long enough. please, yeosang."

"oh, but i've waited long too. and now that i am here, i want to take my sweet time. i want to devour you, feel all of you, to mould you so that you fit perfectly in my hands. i want to make love to you among the stars, and i want to make you feel like a real queen of the skies."

it's like he fell out of a book. he knows all the right words, all the right gestures, and all the right touches. his tongue dips between your folds, plush lips following and lazily caressing your clit. your fingers tighten their grip in his hair, and your other hand digs its nails into his shoulder for support. settling for soft and gentle licks, yeosang truly takes his time with you. he makes out with your folds, as if they're your real lips, sucking on them, grazing them with his teeth and kissing along your clit. you squirm under his painfully slow moves, grinding your hips on his face in hopes of getting more friction.

tired of your disobedience and impatience, yeosang places your legs over his shoulders, burying his head further into your core and switching to rougher moves. lewd noises escape your lips, and you do not try to conceal them. he should know what effect he has on you.

he slurps up your nectar, coating his lips in shiny fluid and enjoys your core essence. he eats you like a starved man, not bothering to take a proper breath. he sucks harshly on your clit, drawing moans and gasps from you. when he pulls away, his cheeks are flushed, and his lips plump and glistening with your arousal. a thin string of saliva connects his mouth to your core, and you almost black out at the sight. you pull him by his hair, crashing your lips on his again. you taste yourself on his tongue, and even though you never liked reading about it or seeing it, it is something that you were truly missing out on.

you nudge him, asking him to switch positions. he smiles into the kiss, but turns you over so effortlessly. he is now the one laying down, and you are the one to break the kiss and get on your knees. you see him clearly for the first time. you decide to give him a taste of his own medicine, by taking it slow and teasing him. you kiss his thighs, ignore his aching area, and continue kissing his lower stomach. he can't help but reach for your hair, softly caressing it as you try your hardest to hold back, but seeing that he doesn't mind the delay, but rather enjoys it, you stop the teasing.

your tongue doesn't hesitate to lick a stripe up his hardened cock, circling around his tip and collecting the precum. he hums with pleasure, but doesn't close his eyes. he wouldn't miss this for anything. you take his red tip between your lips, slowly pushing until you almost touch his stomach. he twitches inside your hot mouth, the tip caressing the back of your throat and making your eyes tear up. finally, crying for a different reason.

unlike you, he doesn't buck his hips to speed up your moves. he is perfectly obedient, petting your head and muttering words of praise.

"that's a good girl," he whispers.

you bob your head up and down, testing the waters. he only sighs and hums, not yet moaning. your impatience wins again, your body eager to extract more dramatic sounds from him. you pull away from him, but not without a teasing kiss to his tip, before climbing into his lap.

"how do you want it, my queen?" he cups your face, and you're quick to nuzzle your cheek against his warm palm.

"i want it just like this. me on top."

"oh? didn't take you for one to be on top."

"i'll surprise you with so many things, kang yeosang. you just wait."

"that's my girl."

driven by pure lust and euphoria, you do not care about protection, or the aftermath. you simply raise your hips and align his cock with your clenching hole, then slide down on it. he slides in, inch by inch, deliciously stretching you and filling you to the brim. when you finally sit on it, both of you moan out, hands reaching for each other. his hands help you roll your hips, while your hands feel his torso and chest. you move, slowly, just the way he likes it.

the moans and sighs leaving his lips are the prettiest sounds you've ever heard. you stay silent, wanting to hear more of him. his eyes are fixed at the point where both of you are connected, pupils dilated as he watches your wet hole swallow him whole. the room is filled with squelching noises, the creaking of the chair, passionate kissing here and there, and neverending exclamations of pleasure.

you find yourself whining for release pretty quickly, the buildup already more intense than any of your previous orgasms. yeosang seems to be reaching his end as well, seeing his head hanging from the chair and exposing his pretty neck to you. you can't help but snake your hands up his torso, fingers finding the key pressure on his neck and gently pressing. he chokes out with surprise, sending you a single glance of pure ecstasy before letting his head fall back again.

the dried tears on his glowing face look majestic, along with his eyes rolled back and his hair a mess. he looks glorious under you, especially as his moans get more high pitched and needy. you feel yourself becoming tired, but you love the position too much to change.

"come on, love. fuck yourself dumb on my cock."

such vulgar words from such an angelic face make your insides quiver. it gives you a boost of energy, and you quicken your pace and bounce just like he told you to. he doesn't break eye contact with you, nor does he let you do all the work. his hips meet yours, reaching deeper inside and making you finally moan out loud. he sits up straight, pulling you close to him and holding your body in place so he can collide his hips with yours quicker and with more accuracy. you are a drooling mess, forehead pressed against his as you shamelessly moan into his lips.

"come on, angel. milk me dry like the good girl you are."

your walls squeeze around him, moans becoming whines and mewls.

"fuck, love- i'm going to fill you up-" he grunts, lips desperately chasing yours.

but both of you are too lust driven to kiss properly, so you settle for moaning into each others mouth and bite each others lips, all while chasing the sweet pleasure.

"my love..." he moans.

"yes-" you choke out, feeling the buildup getting ready to errupt.

"my fate..." he grabs your face, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"yeosang-" you sob, pathetically grinding your hips on his.

"my queen of cosmos."

the orgasm tears through you, erupting in your lower stomach and spreading to the edges of your body. warm liquid shoots inside you, and yeosang keeps rocking his hips to the point where he has your eyes rolled back and jaw dropped, no sound exiting your mouth. your nails leave marks on his back, shoulder and neck, just like your lips do on his. you bite down on his bottom lip, accidentally making it bleed. he hisses at the pain, but doesn't forget to help you ride out your orgasm. your moans bounce off the walls of the cockpit, filling yeosang's ears like heavenly music.

the man doesn't seem to get enough of you, because he lays you on your back and slides back inside you. you don't protest, instead relaxing your body and throwing you head back, much like he did. you let him praise you, use you, worship you. you could never handle more than one orgasm, yet kang yeosang has you moaning on the third one already. by the fourth one, you feel like you're drunk or on some kind of substances.

the vivid colours of the nebula never stop, dancing with each other and illuminating your bodies. yeosang kisses you, over and over, whispering sweet things into your ear and asking if you're good. you don't reply with words, but with a kiss to his forehead, nose, lips, whatever you could.

yeosang makes love to you until the ship swims out of the dust cloud, revealing the void littered with millions of glimmering dots once again. you've stopped counting after five, and let yourself go in his arms. maybe this was your fate after all.

or maybe you were kept alive just to confess to your wrongdoings to the man that has proclaimed his love to you. maybe your punishment is his kindness towards you, when you know you don't deserve it.

"i love you."

"i love you too, yeosang." you say it back, guilt still eating up your heart like the first time he said it, unaware that you could hear him.

the blonde haired man didn't have to try hard to get used to waking up beside you. it was his favorite part of the day for months now: waking up to your kisses, or the other way around. having breakfast together, going to the gym, then showering together. perhaps it was repetitive, but to yeosang, it was everything.

today, however, he woke up way before you. he has raided the luggage room, and created a mess until he found what he was looking for. you did your usual routines alone today, with yeosang busying himself with something else all day.

"i'd like to finish that book today, if you don't mind? i'll see you for dinner tonight."

"alright then. i'll miss you." you pout.

"i'll see you in a few hours, darling. fancy dress code?"

"sure! we haven't done that in a while. i can't wait."

and that's how yeosang found himself in the restaurant, spending two hours decorating the place with ryan's help.

"is the rose too much, ryan?"

"depends on the occasion, sir."

"let's say... proposal."

"i believe it is too little, sir."

"yeah, well, unless you can shit out a rose right here, i don't have much choice. i stole this one from the little terrarium in the lobby."

ryan doesn't respond, in his true robot style. yeosang sighs, lighting the candle on the table. you should be here any minute now.

"maybe i should've done it in the big terrarium." he overthinks.

"if i may, sir, the hibernation room would also be a meaningful place."

yeosang raises an eyebrow, amused. "hibernation room?"

"it's what started your new fate."

"ah, the broken pods. i guess i have to visit the engineers on board once, to thank them for that malfunction."

"oh, no need sir. you can thank miss y/n."

yeosang stops arranging the cutlery, looking at the humanoid robot. "what do you mean?"

"well, she is the one behind the malfunction. at least behind yours. so she is the one to thank."

"what?"

"oh, i thought you knew. apologies sir-"

"explain." he walks towards ryan, brows furrowed and hand fidgeting with the jewelry box in his pocket.

"i really shouldn't, sir. apologies, i-"

"you'll tell me," yeosang reaches for a glass of water, ready to pour it over the machine, "right. fucking. now."

"her pod was the only one that malfunctioned. yours was perfectly fine, sir. miss was lonely, and sad. she spent a whole week looking for a perfect match, and found you. she opened your lid, and rushed back to her room."

a crash, similar to the one on the very first day he woke up, echoes through the restaurant. yeosang turns around, finding your startled face looking at him and a broken bottle of wine by your feet.

you don't dare move, afraid of what he'll do. you have no excuse. and no shame.

he slowly steps towards you, causing you to step back. unlike the first day, his face doesn't give away anger. he is calm, and it scares you more. you wish he'd yell, push, throw. yet he doesn't, simply walking into your direction and stopping right in front of you, separated by a broken bottle. he steps in dark red liquid, the ruined shoes being the last thing on his mind.

"yeosang-" you whimper, his still face torturing you.

"don't."

"b-but-"

"do. not."

"you have to understand- i- i was just-"

his hand wraps around your neck, putting light pressure on it. "you took everything from me."

"yeosang, please."

"you do not get to cry. you do not get to feel my pity. you do not get to feel my mercy."

"please, understand me!"

"no!" he drops you on the floor. "i won't fucking understand you! i'd never do such a cruel thing to someone! have you felt no shame every time you looked at me? kissed me? comforted me when i cried about it?!"

pieces of glass tear your palms as you try to stand up, but fail. you sob on the floor, chest hurting from intensity. the glass shards dig into your thighs, and your dress soaks up the wine. you wipe your cheeks with your bloodied hand, accidentally smearing a few red drops on your face.

"here." he throws something in front of you before storming off.

you wail on the floor for what seems like hours. with your knees pressed to your chest, and your head resting on top of your knees, you cry. your dress is soaked with alcohol, tears and snot. you have no dignity left at this point. once you finally start calming down, you notice the plush box that lays discarded on the floor.

it reveals a stunning ring, with a simple stone in the middle. it looks like it was overgrown by vines, and is a rose gold colour. guess you can add it to the box with the broken necklace now. another relationship broken because of you.

days are longer than ever, with you waking up alone and eating alone. that is all you do, besides an occasional visit to the terrarium. when you hear his doors open, you do not dare exit your room until you hear them close. with each day you wake up, you love him more. your body aches for his, and soul yearns for his. maybe if you told him right away in the beginning, this wouldn't have happened. maybe he would've accepted it, he would have more time to understand.

you're a crying mess, from morning to night, until you pass out of exhaustion.

today, you woke up with a hoarse voice and painful chest. you desperately needed to get out the room, no matter if you heard yeosang's door or not. you might faint if you don't leave.

you limp through the hallways, holding onto the walls. you make it all the way until the rotating tube. why was there no other way to get to the other side?

you sit at the edge, head leaning against the stationary wall and legs hanging above the space. you watch the tube rotate, not brave enough to jump in today. but if you don't make it to the terrarium, you might stay here forever.

the doors open behind you, the familiar voice of the system echoing through the tube. you gulp, his scent enveloping you. you expect him to walk away, or simply jump in the zero gravity space and continue his path. but he holds out his hand for you to take.

you look up at him, eyes tired and bloodshot red. he spares you a single glance, before furrowing his eyebrows and looking away. your hand slides into his, as if made with his measurements in mind. he pulls you up slowly, then presses your body close to his. it is as if you were never separated. his vanilla scent fills up your nostrils, and soft breathing soothes you. you hold onto him, like you did when he took you space walking.

he moves through the tube effortlessly, stopping for a while to gaze at the planets below. they are as breathtaking as the previous ones, and the ones to come. yeosang never ceases to be amazed by the beauty of the universe.

upon reaching the other side, you clutch onto him, knowing that this is going to be a rare occasion now. maybe it was just you, but his breath hitches, as if he wants to say something. no sound leaves his pretty lips, not even when you land in the hallway and he helps you find your balance.

"thank you." you whisper.

he stays by your side, eyeing you up and down. "are you alright?"

"uh, yeah. aside from... you know."

he presses the back of his head against your forehead to feel your temperature. "you're a little hot."

a smile creeps on your lips, and you are desperate to make a joke. typical you, making jokes in situations that are serious.

"go on, say it." he sighs, his lips curving up as well.

"no, the moment is gone now."

"want me to repeat it?"

you roll your eyes, then become serious again. he stares at you, an unexplainable emotion on his face. disgust? maybe.

"where are you headed? you should lay down if you're feeling sick."

"terrarium. i need... fresh air."

"i was headed there too."

"oh. sorry, i'll just go somewhere else." you start turning around, and he grabs you by your elbow.

"you don't have to. come here."

before you can protest, yeosang picks you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style once again. while he is focused on the path, you take the time to admire him. he is beautiful. his eyes also seem to be a reddish pink shade, and he has slight bags under his eyes. but before a hope sparks inside your heart, you remind yourself that he does not weep after you. he does it after his family, and after his changed fate.

after the life you stole from him.

"i can hear you thinking."

"sorry."

"stop apologizing."

"okay, sorry."

he looks down at you, amused. "you haven't changed a bit."

"uh... sorry?"

for his own sake, he decides to ignore you. when reaching the terrarium, he sets you down on one of the swings. your head feels lighter already, but your voice stays the same. you aren't used to being this silent, despite being alone for almost a month. you steady yourself, holding onto the chains that hold the plank you call a swing. yeosang stands behind it, putting his hands over yours and gently beginning to push it.

"i understand." he starts.

"you don't have to-"

"no, let me." and you do let him. he lightly pushes you on the swing, taking his time to form sentences. "while you were passed out... i wished for nothing more than for you to wake up. if you didn't, i'd probably do as you did. humans aren't made to live alone, and i never believed it. until i got in this situation. thus, i understand. what i did not understand though, why me? hundreds of men and women in those pods, and you chose me. what made me stick out? what made you come over and open the lid? it's not like there are any personality traits written anywhere. i could've been a douchebag, and you wouldn't have known. then what? would you have gotten rid of me? locked me somewhere?"

"you were simply... angelic." you don't have to think long to give him an answer. you did the thinking before opening his pod.

"angelic?"

"you had this beautiful face, serenity painted on it. true, i did not know anything about you. you could've been short tempered, violent, or worse. after all, i'm a girl. alone, with no protection. yet i took my chances. and you turned out to be perfect. i fell in love with every part of you; with your soul, brain, body. you were my dream partner."

he is speechless. for the first time ever you speak openly about it, and you do not stutter.

"and i wanted to be your dream partner. i tried my hardest to be perfect, but my previous doings kept coming back and haunting me. that night... i wanted to tell you. i truly did. but that stupid robot beat me to it. i mean, seriously, he can't push a few buttons but he can gossip?"

yeosang snorts, then nods in agreement.

"i'm sorry."

"what?" you whip your head around to look at him. "no, i'm the one who should be apologizing. you did nothing wrong!"

"i've been thinking. i apologize for what happened on the space walk. and i apologize for getting violent with you. i just felt... cheated. and stolen from. i felt betrayed. and all that by the person i love with all my being."

"but, yeosang-"

"look, y/n." he walks around the swing and crouches in front of you, stopping your swinging. his hands rest on your knees, thumbs absentmindedly rubbing your skin. "for all we know, they could all be headed to a different type of destruction. maybe they miscalculated. maybe the planet already has life on it, and they see humans as threat. they won't hesitate to exterminate them in order to protect their planet. or maybe it is a higher, more advanced civilization. i don't know about you, but i'd rather live my life on a sized down earth than live to see my own species die out or become slaves to someone else. so, in a way, thank you. for saving me."

"oh, yeosang." you exhale, falling on your knees and into his arms. "i love you. i love you so much."

"i love you too, princess. say..."

"yes?" you pull away, wiping your upcoming tears so they don't fall.

"can you give me my ring back so i can propose? but please act surprised."

you laugh, and he laughs with you. you pull it out from your pocket, and he looks at you with a wider smile.

"i can't believe you had it right here."

"had what?" you shove it into his hand.

"what do you mean? the ri- oh. right." he catches on.

you stand up, pretending to look at the plants while he shuffles behind you. he clears his throat after a while, making you turn around. you fake a shocked expression, putting your hand over your open mouth after seeing him on his knee. the box is opened, and the ring is as beautiful as the first time you saw it.

"will you marry me, my queen of cosmos? and rule the cosmos with me by your side?"

"i will, my queen hand."

🌠 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: first of all, omg a happy ending?? is this a first for barbz? i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it :)

🌠 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐚𝐥/𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬)

@kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav @angellluh @jjaemasung @oddracha @devastateed

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yonseibananamilk · 1 month ago

Text

“𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒆."

synopsis 𓂃𓈒𓍼ོ living with fyodor was the same as living without him. however, the night of his return reminds you, embarrassingly so, just how close the two of you are. literally. (~4k wc)

a/n 𓇢𓆸 i think i may or may not be starting to hate my writing BUT i really stretched beyond what im used to in certain parts of this and i am quite proud of myself for that ^^

content 𓍼ོ𓂃𓈒 canon compliant, suggestive themes(especially around the end), fyodor is very cold temperature-wise, soft!fyodor(hes soft in his own way), references to my work song fic ! + connected directly to it will come back as it is a part 2 ^^

ᡣ𐭩 special special જ⁀➴ this fic is in collaboration with @musamora ‘s new talk!fic ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و please try to check hers out too if you can — shes a brilliant writer and a lovely person overall <3

Books upon books knitted themselves compact inside the towering shelves that pressed into the walls of what you assumed was Fyodor’s home. He had never called it his home, in fact, you explicitly remember when he did bring you here —

“Welcome to this humble abode. Feel free to touch and grab whatever you desire. Everything here belongs to you, дорогая.”

— Ever since that blind date (gone wrong(but then right in the end)), the Russian had let you stay for as long as you liked. One night led to two, which led into you bringing over a few things for just a few more nights.

Which led to you staying with Fyodor for nearly a month now.

You shook your head at the thought. If anything, he was the visitor. The man was hardly ever home, therefore you weren’t even living together. And you were, like anyone else with experience in a leaky apartment, eager to accept a place as generous as this.

The house held two stories; the first floor with the living room, foyer, and utilities, and the second floor with the bathroom and bedroom. Not to mention there was even an accessible attic-study.

In the beginning, he had stayed the night with you on the couch while you remained upstairs. But it had been weeks since then. Your Russian companion, much to your dismayed crocodile tears, was now predominantly busy with his ‘mission’. You couldn’t argue with that.

Though, on one of the times when Fyodor did stay longer than just a few hours…

“Please? I don’t mind, I swear! Besides, we’re both adults, not some teenagers that’ll go off at the first brush of skin. You don’t have to sleep on the couch..!”

You didn’t want to admit that you had actually stained the sofa downstairs on the first day of being here — even if Fyodor knew about it already, with all his observance — and it also felt… wrong to have him sleep on the couch. Cold. In the dark. And very, very, very lonely.

With a desperate and dramatic gesture of your arms, you tried to make the bed as dreamy as possible to his cherry wine eyes. “See? So comfy!”

To prove your point even further, you jumped on yourself with a muffled noise in the comforter.

“How amusing.”

Your point was most certainly not taken.

Therefore, you began to deflate into the sheets. Even more muffled now, and perhaps even softer than before, you mumbled out — “Is ‘modesty’ really the only reason why you won’t share anything with me?”

Everything in the room stilled. As if gauging the weight behind your words. Then, faintly, a gust of a sigh fell into the golden air of your nearby nightlamp. The candle flame was tickled into a dance thanks to the Russian, twisting and spinning hypnotically.

So hypnotically that you failed to catch the shift in the bed beside your head.

Not until a chilled hand fell atop your head. Bony fingers of ice itself urged your face up and away from the fire. Your attention was rewarded with a smooth, humming smile.

“There is more, дорогая.” He admitted. “But those reasons have nothing to do with you. After all, you are the sole reason why I would like to sleep here.”

Briefly, so much so where you barely even caught it this time — a thumb brushed over your lips. Cherry wine eyes batted down at you, reflecting the flame behind your burning face. Like the sun was the center of his very being.

“Then why don’t you?”

As his thumb curled into the corner of your lips, the rest of his hand glided over your skin. Two fingers read the curves of your jawline. Its adjacent pair followed down to the side of your neck.

He could grab your entire head with ease.

Fluttering ties in your stomach unraveled and twisted again in an endless heap of knots. Why wasn’t he saying anything? What was he thinking of? Why is he getting closer?

A chilled breath brought respite to your burning cheeks. But only for a moment.

Why is he moving away?

“Be wary of the fatigue that will eat you, if you do not sleep soon, дорогая.”

Pale feet revisited the cold, yet still warmer than him, floors. Wood welcomed him with a tired creak, following the man’s every step until he reached the doorway. By then, you had turned off your back to finally face him yourself.

“But I’m not tired.” Horribly, a yawn tore through your last syllable. The heaviness of your eyelids was never apparent until now.

Another amused hum brought you back to the Russian before you, hand on the knob as he smirked down at you. Slowly, the sharp edges of his little grin faded into something softer, fuzzier.

A smile, he had gifted you.

“If you are not tired…” Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating every little thing for his next suggestion. As if crying out — “What? Yes? What is it?”

“Then remember this: there is danger in giving into one’s desires, дорогая.” Icy red eyes rove over your laden figure with an unreadable spark. He always looked at you so curiously.

“I would be wise to not fall victim to such dangers. As would you.”

The closing door halted itself instantly when you let out the smallest of huffs.

“My offer still stands…” With a dragging breath of protest, you fell underneath the blankets.

Black swirls encapsulated your mind as you managed to spin his words effortlessly; “Remember this: there is reward for passing through danger.”

…

Unknowingly shooting through the Russian’s morale — you fell asleep with the same singular weight of your own on the bed. However, the door was still ajar in the morning upon your awakening.

But that moment was weeks ago. The memory of it proven by the clear frown on your lips — twitching up and down every now and then based on whatever the book you read said.

You wouldn’t spend your time thinking about someone who wouldn’t even give you so much as a clear answer to ‘How was your day?’

A creak of wood whipped your head around in urgence. Only for nothing to be there.

Nothing but a pang of disappoint. All at the absence of a certain Russian.

Well. Maybe you would spend a bit of your time.

With a ruffled sigh you fell back against the chair, pages still in hand as the grandfather clock behind you whisked the day away. These moments of solitude had become a daily part of your life — ever since popping out of Fyodor’s floorboards like a daisy in the snow.

But they might as well have been your floorboards too.

The creak of wood glided past your ears. Followed by the light shuffle of a coat being draped over the rack nearby. Then the ghosts of footsteps slowly but surely making their way toward the living room.

“Hm?”

Much to his amusement, there you sat. Old book in hand atop the gentle rise and fall of your chest. In a peaceful slumber too.

“How adorable.” The R rolled after his deep chuckle, growing slightly in volume as he drew closer to your laden frame. “Falling asleep to folktales, are we? Hm, дорогая?”

Frostbite ghosted over your cheek. A chill fell over your fingertips — the lingering absence of your now-taken book. Burgundy eyes flitted over the title with a deep hum.

Surprisingly enough, you had managed to find one of the few English books that hid in his shelves. The vast majority were Russian(as he wasn’t the best with learning new languages).

“Orpheus and Eurydice?” His tongue read. “Now what on Earth compelled you to read such a tale..?”

Firewood slid off one another as it ate away at itself in incessant hunger. A desire for something warmer than what it already had. A rod poked it stable in no time.

“Perhaps my дорогая is more romantic than she lets on. It makes me wonder…”

The shadows around him chuckled in tandem before, again, rippling as the fireplace was muted once more.

‘What a foolish thought.’ His brain reprimanded.

Yet his heart leapt not once, but twice — as you began to slowly stir awake. With orange light painted across the dips of your babbling lips in a silent dance with dark.

“Uah… who’s there..?”

Raven locks fell to the side as he tilted towards you slowly. Akin to an animal watching something unusual. Unexplainable. Unimaginable. A thick silence filled the air as Fyodor lagged to translate your words — no thanks to the strange foreign tingling south of his head — all by the sight of you.

‘How vulnerable.’ He mused. ‘How adorable.’

Despite knowing full well what was coming out his lips — despite knowing just what it could risk for him —

“Федя is here.”

He had willingly revived something. Something that had lied dormant for dozens of hundreds of years. All for you. You and your daftly half-conscious state. He hadn’t been called such a simple name since childhood.

And since his family was alive.

Despite his already-dissipating regret, icy tips glided reverently over the crown of your head. The locks of it threaded like yarn. Each part sifted through like flour. The back of it all was cupped tightly — encouraging your limp head to face him.

“Fe… diya…?”

Oh how adorable you were. So sleepy you couldn’t even pronounce a simple nickname. A diminutive. An endearment.

Nor could you realize how special you were right now. Though, that was the norm at this point.

“Yes. Can you indulge Fedya for a moment, дорогая?” The Russian cooed with a smile both condescendingly familiar, and unrecognizably tender.

Your whined nod was enough to coax him closer. Arms atop the sides of the chair. Frosted breath wafting just shy of your pulse.

“Can you tell Fedya what you were thinking of? Hm?”

Lithe fingers haunted the cover of your little folktale with echoed taps. His cherry wine gaze hooked onto the half-lidded glaze in your eyes.

“Tell him what you were thinking of when reading such a story?”

As slurred syllables pooled from your tongue, Fyodor locked himself onto every quiver, bite, and sound. Each was greedily soaked into the prodigy’s mind — held in higher regard than any mazed tactic.

Although just as half-lidded as yours, his eyes were far more awake than they had been during his accursed mission earlier.

After all, if Fyodor knew such a sweet sight waited for him here — he would’ve destroyed everything in his path to get back as soon as possible.

Frosted breath ghosted over the angle of your jaw, waiting patiently for something more.

“I… I thought that Eurydice was very lucky to have been loved so dearly... Regardless of what happened at the end.”

Black brows rose at you. “Lucky?”

“Yes. I’m a bit envious — being loved so dearly is…” A shake of the head pauses your sleepy train of thought. With a deep breath, your head reclined further into the plush of your seat before correcting yourself.

“Being loved is a very lucky thing indeed.”

Well weren’t you the lucky one?

The gentle squeaks of the couch were thankfully muffled by your weight, settling further and further into its cotton fabric. Your warmth soaked into it well. Though, much of that warmth was the fire’s — which only seemed to be growing.

Just along the edges of your peripheral, a certain smiling Russian was also present — leaned over your shoulder closely. Close enough for the scent of black tea to flood your nostrils yet again.

“Could you imagine it?”

A chill ran over the hairs on the nape of your neck. Fyodor’s breath was cold. His lips too.

“Imagine being loved…?” Your voice was far softer than expected. “I… suppose it would be nice. Very nice, in fact. I’d like to be cared about…”

Shifting your eyes, the golden text of the book was now being circled by Fyodor’s idle fingers. Lithe enough to perfectly recreate the intricate cursive. And cold enough to make you shudder at the mere sight.

Nonetheless — the image of such hands snug around you was as warm as the shared fireplace.

“Wouldn’t everyone?” He cooed. Slender fingertips rhythmically tapped atop the book cover.

“Being loved…” Cherry wine eyes reflected the orange fire beside you. “Or wanted…”

You swallowed a lump in your throat that certainly wasn’t there before.

“Is a very human desire.”

Another swallow. Glued to the fiddling hands in your lap, your heart leaped with you upon asking;

“Do you desire it as well?”

Briefly did his eyes widen.

It was borderline impossible to catch Fyodor off-guard. But, as luck would have it, you succeeded at it like any other mundane task. You always did.

It’d be terrifying if not so attractive.

“I suppose…” Once unoccupied fingers found their way atop your shoulder. Chills ran through your arm. As well as an unwelcome spark through your entire body. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

A flicker of your shared fireplace caught your eye. Avoiding the piercing gaze of Fyodor Dostoevsky as he, much to your confusion, stared into your very essence. It was as if he was analyzing every curve and groove before completely committing it to memory.

That sly, condescending chuckle reeled you home to him. All semblance of earlier surprise had drained from his eyes. “What a curious question, дорогая. Were you picturing it in your mind?”

Blackberry strands fell against the white fabric of his shirt, flowing in tandem with the inching of his face.

“Thinking… pondering… wondering…”

Orange light danced within the seeds of his eyes.

“Imagining what it’d be like to be loved by me?”

You didn’t know whether to fuse with the couch or disappear completely.

Whatever happened to the fire danced over your already-burning cheeks — radiating against the chill of Fyodor’s face as he bordered closer and closer.

“Can you imagine it?”

Close enough to count each eyelash.

Close enough to taste the scent of black tea and iron on your tongue.

Close enough to feel the subtle heat of his cheeks.

“Imagine being loved by me?”

Your lower lip began to tremble. Sweat sprinkled from your shaky palms. That same spark shocked you from head to toe yet again.

Everything felt heavy. Heavy and warm.

And your nose itched. Itched and twitched. You couldn’t help but sniff — which only amplified the hot water in your eyes — already glittering in your lashes. The unsaid border between the two of you dwindled like a candle in the wind.

All you knew was that you were sweaty, shaky, and far too warm to be considered normal.

A snort caught itself in his throat. While perfectly timed with just how stiff you were getting, your little sniffle was not out of embarrassment. Simply an incoming sneeze that he would gladly bless you for in: 3, 2—

“Achoo!”

…

He did not want to finish that countdown.

“Woah…! I got my boogers on your face! Hah!”

“That you did.” The Russian begrudgingly muttered, closed eyes subtly twitching under the weight of your giggles and dabbing sleeve. “Bless you.”

Despite all your unceremonious, uncouth, undisciplined whatnots — the sheepish smile you flashed to him was hardly ignored. “Thank you… Did it get in your eye?”

“Fortunately not.”

“Aww. Better luck next time then.”

The caught snort from before clawed its way out of Fyodor and into a throaty, hearty, genuine laugh.

No cocky chuckles. No sadistic grins. No sly hums.

Just a normal laugh. With golden fire reflecting off the sides of his face like framing sunrays. And a usually imperceptible ombre of deep magenta in his otherwise black hair — thanks to the generous amount of light the fireplace provided a few feet away.

Sure, it was akin to the cawing of crows at the crack of dawn — Fyodor most certainly hadn’t laughed like that in what seemed like centuries. But it was touching nonetheless.

Very much so.

“It’s rude to stare, дорогая.”

It was even harder to look away when he was smiling so warmly.

“I bet Orpheus wouldn’t think Eurydice was rude — even when her boogers got in his eye.”

An unfamiliar emptiness frosted over your shoulder when the Russian leaned away. “Perhaps, дорогая. Perhaps.”

You couldn’t recall a time when he was ever so warm.

“There are no more wool blankets.” The Russian patted through the wooden cabinets with a small hum. “Дорогая, you wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?”

Looking over his shoulder, a cherry wine gaze poured over your freshly showered & dressed body. You learned to always stay snug for the cold that managed to occasionally sneak its nightly way past the fireplace — crackling happily a hallway down.

You hummed back, offering the man a smile warm enough to rival it. “I do.”

“And whatever happened to them?” Knowing lips cooed. The answer fell sweeter when it was from your tongue than his mind.

“I put them in the attic because they scratched at my face,” Rubbing at your arms, a wave of apology washed over you. Maybe Fyodor preferred blankets that way? Scratchy and itchy. He was a strange man after all.

Even more strange now that he was finally content with sharing a bed. You don’t think you’d ever seen a man smile for so long. However eerie though, at the end of the night, it was… endearing.

Tonight, he had changed out of the usual wear for war(or whatever he did outside of the house) — a fluffy white robe wrapped snug around Fyodor. Tied together by the loose cotton belt.

“And so you have been sleeping in a single blanket? Instead of the multiple wool ones I had given you?” The urge to hang your head was woefully strong. You opted to shuffle your feet instead.

“Yes, Fyodor. I… I can give you the blanket for the night if that’s what you want?”

Briefly, his roving eyes met yours. With a small lilt of his voice, which was another strange way of expressing amusement for him, the Russian cooed; “And leave a woman to fend for herself against the cold?”

Another spark of warmth crackled under your skin. The sensation swam through your bones in a melting frenzy that burned your face once it reached it.

“T-then we can share…?”

Cherry eyes crinkled in delight.

“Wonderful idea, дорогая.”

As your knees slowly crawled up to meet your chest, the sway of his hair encapsulated you in a garden of imagination — with cherry wine eyes to drink and straight locks that rivaled shades of the ripest blackberries. Such sweet attributes for such a cold man.

Literally. He was colder than the air itself when sitting on your bed. The man could’ve drunken up all the warmth in the room, and still ask for more.

“You’re freezing!” You whined out, curling into a shuddering ball. “Maybe you should take that blanket, you might as well take the ones in the attic too.”

A frown quipped its brows at you. Yet, despite all his shown annoyance, there lacked a general sense of danger that once lived within.

Every glare was now punctuated with a cooing riddle of warning but quickly followed by a soft smile — imperceivable to all he knew. Excusing you.

“And I assume that means you are warmer? Hm?”

“Well, duh. I’ve been soaking in the fireplace all day waiting for you.”

“Oh?”

Under the gentle fire of your candlelit bedside, a meek coral bloomed across the slim cheeks of his face. His ears were red too — how long had he been that way?

“So, you were waiting for me?”

“Yes.” An exasperated breath left you feeling flustered and confused.

“Diligently?”

“And I was very lonely the whole time.”

A sense of deja vu sprung over you like a freshly pouring fountain.

Candlelight brewed against his face. Cherry wine eyes raked over your every inch. Pale skin, now painted with pink, smoothly approached closer and closer and closer —

Until the two of you are face to face once again. Illuminated only by generous candlelight and warmed by a singular blanket, except for Fyodor leeching off your heat.

“Дорогая, if I didn’t know better, I’d assume you thought we were married. With you waiting so, what was the word...?"

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Ah yes. Diligently for my arrival.”

Freezing fingertips grazed along the bridge of your jaw. Dancing over the skin like whistling air, then halting at the chin. Two fingers held it gently, softly, reverently even.

“Though, my words are not necessarily a complaint.”

Candlelight pooled over the side of his face, glistening in the corners of Fyodor’s eyes like water lanterns at nighttime. You could only hope he was staring at you because you looked just as beautiful.

Gulping, a strained noise tumbled from your lips —

“Oh? Whining now?” A chilling thumb ran over the shine of your bottom lip. He was closing in.

“I did not whine.” Your voice cracked. “I just—”

Words left you. Tumbling freely from your throat in an entanglement of broken syllables and whines.

And with each mishap, his grin only grew. Evident by the crinkled underside of his trailing gaze.

At long last, a semblance of defense clicked into mind — spilling out with almost-paralyzing heat inside. And yes. Your voice cracked a second time.

“You caught me off-guard!”

“I did?” He crooned. The weight of your blanket was peeled off — making way for Fyodor to finally join you. Which you would’ve been over the moon about — if your thoughts weren’t so scrambled. You only hoped his were, too.

Every restrained laugh. Every languid movement. Everything he did — you prayed that he felt even a semblance of the bashfulness you did. Maybe then, it wouldn’t feel so embarrassing.

“Oh, дорогая.” Frostbitten lips sighed. “You truly are adorable.”

Time melted into an infinity of simply you and Fyodor. With your brain dry of anything else to say, and his hopefully the same. With one last strained noise, you turned away to bury yourself into the cotton of your now-shared bed.

A candlelit silence bloomed over.

As the sheets’ soft heaviness cradled back over you, Fyodor included now, the man slid himself behind your burning face — peacefully watching the uncharacteristic heat fizz out of your little head.

Blackberry locks stretched over the expanse of the pillow like grape vines across a fence.

Amid all your muffled sounds, the cotton had begun to seep a sense of sleep into your skin, added on by Fyodor’s granted silence. With a sniffle, you reluctantly let go of his blundering words — slowly but surely relaxing into the candlelight bed. But not without an evident pout.

A haze of warmth enwrapped you. Cozy.

The edges of consciousness were held by none other than a familiar pair of cold hands. Which slithered their way around your waist — pulled you snugly against their owner’s body — allowing him to soak in the feast of your body heat.

Oddly enough, as the Russian slid himself closer, not an inch of his frigid temperature leaked into yours. Quite the opposite.

Your slumbering body thawed away at his cold one.

Save for one place that did not need any more warming. Like his cheeks, for example. Or elsewhere.

taglist ᯓᡣ𐭩 @aureatchi @soleelia + people that also wanted to be added but please know time is my greatest enemy

translations! (these are rough translations, and if there are any inaccuracies please let me know)

дорогая - ‘darling’ i just cant envision fedya saying ‘baby’. darling is the only accurate one.

thank you so much to @musamora for betareading again !!! she is quite literally the sweetest writer i know and this fic couldnt be possible without her ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

also thanks to @/saradika-graphics for all the wonderful dividers! the images for the banner were either found on pinterest or edited by yours truly <3 thank you for reading !

#in full bloom 𓍯𓂃 #oh dear lord my schedule has not been kind to me #it also doesnt help that ive been as sick as a victorian child #or as sick as a dog #but ANYWAYS I BIRTHED THIS FIC WITH MY BLOOD SWEAT TEARS #and muse #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #fyodor x reader #bsd #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor bungou stray dogs #fyodor dostoevsky bsd x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x you #fyodor bsd x reader #fyodor bsd x you #bsd fyodor dostoevsky

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pretty-blkgirl · 1 year ago

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Enough

//gn!reader x Chan//

Synopsis: You and you husband go to marriage counseling, but all seems lost.

Genre: angst

Warnings: SAD AF, implied cheating, angsttttt

A/N: I really like this, even though it’s super short and really upsetting 🥹 (gonna have to make a happy Chan fic after this)

~~~~|~~~~

Do you love me, Chris?” You ask, tears already running down your face. Your husband sits next to you, head down to avoid your gaze.

The marriage counselor in front of you watched with wide eyes as if her favorite TV show is beginning to reach its climax.

You couldn’t believe you were sitting there, 3 years of marriage and 6 years of being together seemingly going to waste as your husband continues to ignore your question. A question that shouldn’t bring hesitancy, it should have been a quick yes.

But he sits there, quiet. As the seconds go on, your sadness turns into pure anger. You were starting to see red, and you wanted nothing more than to tear that office apart.

“ANSWER ME” You scream, startling both him and the counselor.

Poor woman, she wanted to stop the impending fight but she stayed frozen, the shock being too much for her.

“…why are you asking me that?” He finally speaks, making your heart rate start to quicken.

He didn’t say yes….

It seemed like your relationship was flashing before your eyes. The day you met, the first date, him proposing, then your wedding.

The first year was amazing, the second year seemed perfect, and it was the start of the third that everything started to go downhill.

“Wow,” You say, completely shocked and disappointed, “So you fell out of love?”

“Y/n-”

“It’s a yes or no Chris. Stop beating around the fucking bush and tell me.”

“You don’t have to swear at me”

“And you don’t have to sit here and waste my FUCKING time over a relationship that’s clearly over.”

You stand, grab your bag, and walk towards the door. Chris finally looks up, meeting your fiery eyes.

You wonder if he’s going to beg for you to sit back down. If you walked out the door right now, would he follow? Would he cry and beg for you to stay with him?

Would he reveal that this whole thing was just a big joke? Nothing was real! The distancing himself, the taking extended work trips every weekend, the random person calling his phone at 3 am, and ESPECIALLY the act he’s putting on now.

You hoped he would, but he only stared at you. His eyes were glossy, but no tears fell.

“6 years,” you say quietly, glaring at your once loving and devoted husband, “You wasted 6 years of my life. Years I could have spent traveling, finding myself- or a person who would actually love me”

“I did love you”

Did….past tense.

The ache in your heart grew, making your chest hurt so bad you nearly cried out in pain. You didn’t, though. You cried and screamed enough, you won’t allow him the pleasure of seeing how much he’s breaking you.

The counselor suddenly breaks out of her trance and asks you to sit back down, but you refuse.

There’s no point. It’s over a done deal. There’s no fixing this relationship.

“I hate you” Is the last thing you say before walking out of that office.

Once in your car, you find yourself holding in sobs.

You cried enough, no more.

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merakiui · 2 months ago

Note

hello!! omg your newest Rollo fic... I've been thinking about it nonstop I swear!!! I'm obsessed with all your Rollo works, you just write him so creepy and obsessive - so fitting for a man who takes everything to fanatic extremes. I particularly loved the cultish religious themes in this, so in character for him.

such a chilling premise to start. mangled wings made of bone and sinew and fake feathers?? so horrifying and gorey, more like the image of a fallen angel than anything else. and the fact that an appropriate lamb had to be searched for. perhaps the righteous one had to stalk for months to find just the perfect opportunity to lure his angel :)

the fact that the handkerchief is actually darling's... omg that stuck with me. creepy down bad despicable priest can't resist darling's scent even if it means stealing her things 👀

and the stockholm syndrome? literally tearing his angel apart and stripping her bare, just to rebirth (indoctrinate) her into the religion just like everyone else, hanging on his every word. so thoroughly broken that fingering her before a congregation is definitely Normal and a sacred holy event and not a sinful perversion (not that Rollo sees a difference between the two).

the period blood too AAA!! the first time you wrote about his fixation on it I swear you awakened something in me I didn't know existed .///. that man is an absolute fiend.

I could yap forever but!!! anyway I really really like the fic <3 Rollo simps being fed generously today

-🐌 anon (if not taken!)

🐌 anon, hello hello!!!! Omg thank you so much!! I'm so happy you enjoyed the fic!! Rollo works extremely well in contexts with religious themes. I love adding all of the symbolism,,,, I've been meaning to write a cultish fic with Mr. Rollo for quite some time now. I was having the worst cramps of my life the other day and in being doubled over in pain a thought occurred to me: what if Rollo led a group of people who worship this sort of thing??? Thus, this fic was born hehe. :D

I loved writing about the gore and brutality in shaping darling into a proper angel. Or the human equivalent of one. Immediately thrust into a position of (limited) power overseen by Rollo, put on a holy pedestal and made to be this divine creature...... AAAAAA I was actually going to compare Rollo and the cult to wolves, but I felt that was straying into The Test of Faith territory. ^^;;; in any case I love the idea of Rollo searching for the perfect lamb to sacrifice and turn into an angel. <3 poor darling who had no idea of the horrors she would soon endure at the hands of such a crazy man,,,

>:D he's a freak!!! Rollo who took all of darling's possessions (that were on her person when he stole her away) so that he can essentially rewrite her entire existence,,, of course this includes minor things like her handkerchief. I think if anything's spared from flame it's that. The rest of your identity is burned away and from the ashes comes a new title, one you never wanted or needed to begin with. All while he gets to enjoy the sweet scent of darling on his (her) handkerchief.

Rollo being obsessed with periods and period blood is so delicious to me. He's such a creep,,, proving to the congregation that you're still pure because you have your period. Maybe it even keeps him in check when he's overcome with the desire to take you for himself. I think the concept of menstruation in stories is so interesting!! When they did that in Midsommar, I was so :O Rollo being obsessed with your menstrual cycle and fertility is so real to me. Sooner or later, he's gathering some for himself to put in his morning tea....... aaaa such a freak.

Thank you again for enjoying the fic!!! ⸜(｡ ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ I will always feed the Rollo simps because I myself am so unhealthily obsessed with him!!!

#sweet messages #🐌 anon #i need to write more stockholm syndrome darling + rollo...... an immaculate combination #finding comfort in the man who has done so many grotesque things to you... the hands who hurt you later become the hands who honor you #the brainwashing........ there is no world beyond what's here in the cult. how can you survive without rollo? :)

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hamilando · 11 months ago

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ੈ✩‧₊ Black Rose ੈ✩‧₊

Pairing : Choi Seungcheol x Male reader

Words : 1.3k

Genres : Angst, Revenge au, Yandere au, Idol au

TW: Angst, Main character dying, Yandere,

Music : Guilty by Taemin

A/N : This is the sequel to the fic Red Rose, it is advised to read that before reading this for better relatability. Feedback is much appreciated. Requests and questions are always open!

Making the last adjustments, choosing the music bank schedules, organizing the promotional events—all of which took a toll on Seungcheol as the leader of one of the most well-known bands in the world—and spending the majority of his days in the studio as the comeback was approaching. He had just collapsed onto the couch after his trip to the HYBE building, too tired to move a limb, and was about to fall asleep when the doorbell rang, ruining his precious sleep. He sweared if it was the manager or any of his members despite loving them to death, he would kill them with a pen and not care of the criminal charges faced by him.

“Mail for Mr. Choi, Apartment 3607.”

He murmured a brief thank you and opened the mail, which was little more than a sheet of paper, thinking as to what he might possibly get at 7 o'clock in the evening.

“Another one of the fan letters, don’t know how they manage to get my address.” He muttered before starting to read the content of letter.

“Dear Seungcheol,

You never know when your heart starts beating for someone else, just like mine started 2 years ago.

Even with those long lashes shielding your ebony eyes, they drew me in. Your shaggy mullet was in need of a haircut, but who was I to say? Those strong muscles ready to tear off the blue shirt you never threw, even though I told you repeatedly to do so. You would always respond that it was your lucky charm because it helped you get with me. Guess you got a home run with me.

If all you had to do was run, why take a break for me. Your so-called love for your fans, would be all shattered if they get to know of your true escapades. I can already imagine the headlines, ‘Top boy band’s leader being the definition of coward.’ Or maybe it’s just my poetry speaking up. That’s why they say don’t date a poet, you will definitely become one of their muses. After the so called break up, which I must point out you didn’t have the guts to do in person, I felt like death was possible without dying. I did not want to kill myself, rather kill something inside me. I was tired of fighting, I wanted to give up but then I remembered, for once I want to be fought over. So here I am, giving you a chance, fight me for your future, fight me for your career, fight me for your success. Meet me at the place where you first took me for out first date. The time being when Cinderella had to rush back, but here it will be you rushing to save your image. And well if you think this is mere joke, see you tomorrow in the headlines my love.

To the moon and never back ~

Y/N”

Seungcheol just sat there, the paper crumbling in his hands, the shock taking over his body. How could a guy who didn’t think of anything but romance be able to manipulate him into giving up his career. Checking the time which halted at 9pm, Seungcheol not taking this lightly rushed to his car and drove the spot he and Y/N had their first date. A cliff which Seungcheol had founded while filming for going seventeen. The sunset adding the sparkle to the champagne as they clinked their glasses to the eternal future filled with love. How they shared their plans for the future, Y/N merely a first-year English honour student while Seungcheol finding the muse in him for their next album.

They laughed the evening,

They smiled the night,

They fell in love at the sun’s sight.

As soon as Seungcheol reached the spot, he was not shocked to see Y/N waiting for him. He was definitely not used to seeing Y/N being all buffed up. The back his used to hug had definitely become broader, the waist he used to hold, had definitely become smaller, the legs which he would hold had definitely become thicker.

“Y/N” Seungcheol called out, for him to be greeted by the eyes where once he saw his love. Instead of holding the usual glint, the black orbs now being a sign of darkness.

“You came.” Y/N smirked, very well knowing the answer as to why he came.

“You called.”

“I called or did your dangling future called.”

“It’s not like that-”.

“Honey leave the bullshit. I am not dating you anymore and neither are you. I am here to just get some reward for the information I have dug up.”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Do what?”

“Stoop so low that you will leak the relationship.”

“Just to correct you, firstly, the relationship we had. Secondly, who am I to stoop low when the other guy has to send his company to break up.”

“I had my reasons.”

“Such as winning a daesang, going on a world tour, releasing 3 hit albums ?”

“Try to understand, I was forced-.”

“Keep your excuses for your next song. Don’t give me the crap.” Y/N said while moving a step towards Seungcheol while the latter took a step backward, wanting to keep his distance if the former tried to pull a trick.

“I have enough words for my next album Y/N. Do not worry about how much money I can through that. How much money do you want instead for keeping your mouth shut.”

“I remembered you liked my mouth open wide, guess people change over time.” Y/N simply winked while taking another step towards Seungcheol.

“Cut the crap-”

“That’s a lot of attitude coming from a person who has a lot to lose.”

“What do you want? You name it, Money, sponsorship, trips, luxury, just name it.”

“ I wish money could buy what I wanted Seungcheol. Sadly, it’s something only you can give.”

“Tell me, just tell me and I will do it.”

“Such a good lil pup you have become, An apology.”

“What!? Are you kidding me Y/N!? You made me come here just to apologise!? Ok, then here you go. Sorry Y/N for breaking your little heart. Happy?”

Y/N just stared at Seungcheol, taking a step forward each time each time Seungcheol backed.

“Happier than before, thanks to you my love.”

“Don’t call me that, anyways I shall be leaving, had enough of your nonsense in the middle of the night.”

“Of course, leave as you shall please, but only if the twig you are standing on does not break before you move.”

As soon as the words came out of Y/N’s mouth, the snapping of the twig was heard, Seungcheol losing his grip and trying to find something he could grab, before slipping down the cliff only to hang from the edge of the cliff.

Seungcheol looking around with frail eyes, his breathing becoming haggard, his hands holding on for dear life.

“YOU PLANNED THIS DIDN’T YOU!?” Seungcheol gritted through his teeth, trying his best not to move much to avoid losing his grip and falling.

“Nah, that’s just nature playing against you. I have yet to take my apology.” With that Y/N kicked Seugcheol’s hand, which was hanging on the cliff. Seungcheol wanted to scream but could not, he knew the music in his album had finished playing. He could only stare at the guy who was once the love of his life. His life flashing through his eyes, his members, his family, his friends, Y/N.

Y/N just stood there, watching him fall, not feeling an ounce of regret. The months he spent crying and dwelling on that guy finally redeeming as something useful.

“I can call you anything my love,

But at your funeral when cries are what I hear,

I shall take pride in bringing you the rose,

The petals flying as the wind blows,

The rose which is dear,

The black rose, capturing the fear.

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kenny-the-ken · 2 years ago

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But You're Both So Young!

Helloooo my lovely people!!! So a lot of you wanted me to write a fic about the reader and Kenny finding out that they're expecting a baby!! So,,, if you didn't know already, I myself am a young mother, I turned 19 when my son was 13 days old, so I know a thing or two about being pregnant, especially as a teen!! Thus should go without saying guys but ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP IN THIS FIC!!! READER 18, KENNY 19!! This is written almost how it went for me!! So please bare that in mind and if you guys want any more added to this, like a series, then let me know!!! I have almost finished the Stan smut and another for Kyle!! Any requests I've received I'll be working through over the next few days!! Lots of love guys and I hope you enjoy!!

Your hand shook, staring down at the test in your hands, two lines, it was positive, and one hand cupped your lower belly, a small smile on your face as a few tears escaped.

"Kenny! Come here!! Quickly!" You shouted through your shared apartment, you had a funny feeling that you were pregnant, and as it so happens, you weren't just imagining things, you and Kenny were going to be parents, a perfect blend of half his genetics and half of yours, your baby would be the most perfect child, and your mind was beginning to slowly wonder, when Kenny came clambering into the bathroom, panting for breath, his hand still on the door handle.

"What's wrong?" He asked, and you turned the strip test to show him, his eyebrow quirking.

"What's two lines supposed to mean? I don't know how these things work!" He exclaimed, hands in the air as you let a small laugh escape you.

"It's positive, Ken! We're gonna be parents!" You exclaimed, hands wrapping around his neck as he picked you up, spinning you round in circles, a smile so big on his face that you were certain his cheeks must've hurt.

"Our own little baby! I'm gonna be a dad!" Kenny shouted happily, gently putting you back on your feet as he jumped about, cheering and whooping, and you stood laughing, a smile on both of your faces that you were sure no one could wipe from it.

"So what now?" Kenny asked, taking your hand and leading you into the living room, sitting down on the couch beside you.

"I have to let my doctor know, the date of my last period is their rough estimation on how far along I am, I reckon I'm about five weeks." You spoke and Kenny listened to your every word attentively, nodding occasionally.

"Then at twelve weeks, we have our first scan, they'll take bloods and make sure I'm all good and healthy and that the baby is too, and then at the twenty week scan they'll measure everything inside and outside the baby to make sure it's organs and bones are growing properly and they'll tell us the sex of the baby too!" You said excitedly clapping your hands together as Kenny pulled you to his chest, placing gentle kisses all over your face.

"I'm so lucky to have you, I mean, not only do you love me, but you're giving me the best gift a guy could ask for, a baby! Our baby! God, I love you!" Kenny gushed, your cheeks heating up, Kenny's words making you blush, your head resting on his chest, as Kenny's hands played with your h/c hair.

"I love you too, Ken. We're going to be the best parents we can possibly be." Your voice was gentle, your tone soft and Kenny nodded in agreement.

"I'm gonna do all the things my parents never did, and all they did do, I swear I never will." He promised, not just to you but to himself and your unborn baby too.

The weeks went on, each day following a similar pattern. You would both wake up, cuddle together for a while in bed, Kenny usually making things sexual, not that you were complaining. Then you would both make breakfast together, pancakes, French toast, a fry up, you name it, you guys made it together. This morning you had both made sausage rolls together, the entire thing riddled with innuendos from Kenny about how he'd like you to touch his sausage, and you both sat together at the table, waiting for them to cool down so you could both finally tuck in. So far, you hadn't had many symptoms of pregnancy, but things change very quickly, the smell of the food sat in front of you turned from smelling utterly delicious to completely putrid, and you started to feel sick, and that was the beginning of your 'morning sickness', although what you'd began to find out was that morning sickness wasn't always exclusive to the mornings, sometimes it was before bed, after dinner, late afternoon, during the night, and every time you were over the toilet bowl, Kenny held your hair, rubbing circles on your back and whispering words of encouragement in your ear, helping you to clean up afterwards.

Weeks seemed to pass by quickly, and you were starting to bloat slightly in your lower tummy, your jeans starting to become a little too snug to be comfortable anymore. But no matter what Kenny always showered you with compliments, about how beautiful you were, how you were completely glowing, and you knew deep down how excited he truly was.

And that became clear when finally the day of your twelve week ultrasound had arrived, and Kenny was ready before you were, already out the door and waiting for you in his car. He couldn't wait to see your baby for the first time, and his smile didn't falter once the entire way to the hospital.

You got checked in and were handed a green maternity file, and while you were excited, you couldn't help but have that feeling outweighed by your nerves. What if something was wrong? What if the baby wasn't growing like it was supposed to, or there was no heartbeat on the monitor, and fuck you felt sick again. Your mind was spinning, full of worry before Kenny spoke, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Babe, everything will be fine, okay? I promise." Kenny said, his hand resting on your thigh, delivering a soft squeeze to it as he smiled gently at you, as you simply nodded your head in response.

Your name was called after waiting for a while and you both rose from your seats, making your way down the corridor and into one of the room adjacent.

"If you wanna get up on the bed there, and roll your top up and move your trousers down to your hips." The lady spoke, and you did as you were told as Kenny sat on the seat next to you, squeezing your hand as he gave you his gappy smile, and you couldn't help but smile back at him, he really was your everything.

"Okay, I'm going to put some of this of this gel on your stomach, you did as we asked and drank plenty of water before you came here so you had a full bladder?" She asked and you nodded again in response, jumping when you felt the cool gel and the head of the ultrasound machine rub circles on your stomach, and then she paused her movements, you both hearing a small, quick thumping sound coming from the machine, as she turned the monitor so you both could see.

"So baby looks very comfy in there, here's baby's head." She said, pointing it out on the monitor, and you were both just staring in amazement.

"S-So everything's okay? Baby's growing fine yeah?" You glanced at Kenny and he looked like he was welling up, the back of his hands quickly whipping away the tears of joy that dared to fall down his face.

"I'll do a few measurements just to double check, but as far as I can see so far, everything looks perfect! I'll print you some pictures of your scan." The midwife said, a smile on her face, and you and Kenny still stared in amazement, it felt so real now, you really were growing a little mini version of both of you put together, it had little hands, feet, arms and legs, you could see it's little face and it's small, still developing features. It truly was incredible what a woman's body was capable of, and Kenny was in awe of both the baby, and you.

"I'm just speechless! It's our little baby in there!" Kenny cooed, the tears appearing again in his eyes, still smiling and holding your hand tightly.

When the appointment was over and they had taken your blood samples, you and Kenny sat in his car, looking through the pictures that the midwife had gave you.

"I'm so lucky. The most amazing boyfriend in the world universe and now the most perfect little baby with you. I love you so much, Kenny." You spoke, tears of joy in your own eyes as he hugged you tightly, before placing a gentle hand on your tummy.

"I swear, I'll give you two the entire Earth, moon and stars." Kenny spoke, his hand then moving to cup your cheek and deliver a soft, kiss to your lips, starting up the engine.

"And I swear I'll give you two everything that I possibly can. I want to be the best mother that I can be, and the best girlfriend I can be too, I really would be lost without you both." You spoke, finally allowing your nerves to calm down, tears of joy in your eyes, much like Kenny before you.

The road was gonna be a long one, nine months is a long time, and birth was gonna be no walk in the park, but you wanted nothing but this, however the waiting had only just begun, because you still had eight weeks left till your twenty week scan, and finding out the sex of your baby. It was all new, exciting and equally terrifying, but you knew Kenny was with you, holding you tightly in his arms every single step of the way, and that and your unborn baby really was all that mattered. And all that ever would matter.

#kenny mccormick #eric cartman #kenny south park #kenny mccormick x reader #stan marsh #kyle south park #south park #stan south park #kenny mccormick smut #kyle brovlofski #south park boys #south park x y/n #south park x reader #sp kenny #kenny sp

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wehaveimagineshere · 1 year ago

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~If I die before I wake~

Astarion x G/N reader

This is a collab between Ren & Frost and this fic is just straight up sad. Read at your discretion. Based off this TikTok

You and Astarion have been together for years, but now it’s time for you to go. Astarion decided to go with you

CW: DEATH & SUICIDE

You and Astarion had known each other now for what felt like an eternity. Blissful, beautiful years full of love and hardships that you came over together

You had gotten married after a few years. It was beautiful and everything you both had ever wanted

It’s an outside wedding that started just after sunset. The final hues of orange and pink fading into black, the stars starting to shine brightly in the sky

Everyone you both loved and felt like family were there

Your fingers twitch the curtains again, Shadowheart smacking them away with a huff. "Try again and I swear I will rip your very expensive attire."

"Shadowheeaarrrttt," you whine, twining your fingers together nervously. "I'm so curious. I want to see!"

"And I want to keep my head." Crossing her arms, she gives you a look. "Astarion told me to keep you here until it's time to walk, so that's what I'll do."

"You're doing what Astarion tells you?"

Sighing to the heavens, she rolls her eyes. "For today I am, gods help me."

Chuckling, you give your friend a once over. Decked out in a gossamer black dress with a beautiful silver lined bodice with layered skirts and see through sleeves, you'd think she was the one getting married. Flashing a quick smile, you quickly follow it up with another sigh. "I'm going to go crazy if this doesn't start soon."

"You're already crazy, marrying a vampire." Smacking your hand away as you go to mess with your hair, she hisses, "If you make one strand of hair out of place after I spent two hours getting it right we will have problems."

Giving her a pout and raising your hands up in surrender, you start pacing. You get three laps in before Wyll pokes his head into the room, the biggest smile you've ever seen painting his face. "It's time."

"Thank the gods," you say as Shadowheart links her arm with yours.

Swinging the door open, Wyll's eyes soften as he looks at you. "You're breathtaking. You're going to make everyone out there fall to their knees."

"I outdid myself, I know," chimes Shadowheart with a smug smile, patting down your outfit proudly. "We went to every boutique in the city before we settled on this."

Quietly, Wyll says as you pass, "You're going to bring him to tears."

As you walk down, the only thing you can focus on is the beautiful man you’re in love with, tears streaming down his cheeks as he smiles and looks as you

You feel your eyes burn as tears also flow down your face. Your eyes start to blur the closer you get to the alter. Astarion reaches out for you and the moment you take his hand, you feel complete

You’re hardly listening to the words the officiator is saying. All you can focus on is Astarion’s warm hand and his beautiful ruby red eyes staring at you with so much love that it makes you feel a bit bashful

You were so lost in each other that Gale had to clear his throat to get you back into the present. You both say I do and when you kiss, you know you never want to be apart from him

Several years have passed since then. You had moved into a nice cozy home in Baldur’s Gate and even adopted the two stray cats you’ve seen; Myshka and Malta. Though they have a great fondness for you, they both greatly dislike Astarion

They’ll even take most of his side of the bed from time to time, leaving him to sleep on the tiny little sliver they leave for him. He tried to move them once, but you discovered scratches all over his hand the next morning

But your blissful time together was entering its final chapter. You were growing older. While Astarion never changed, you became more lethargic. More and more gray hairs taking over your natural color until one day that’s what your hair was

You had become extremely weak. The old age you had reached took a toll on your body. Skin sagging off your bones, your legs unable to withhold your weight without Astarion’s assistance

It breaks his heart to see you this way. He knows your time is coming. Seeing you become but a shell of yourself over time takes a toll on him. He doesn’t want to lose you. He can’t lose you

Staring at the food with tears in your eyes, you know this is it. It's too hard to lift your hands to grab the fork, too hard to lift it to your mouth, too hard to chew, to swallow. Even breathing had become a conscious effort - in, out, in, out.

Sniffing, you relax into the pillows propped behind your back, letting the tears fall before Astarion returns. For years you've felt yourself failing, and even now when you're at your dregs, you can't help the squeezing in your chest.

You'll be leaving him.

An inevitability, you've both known. But so easy to ignore the marching of time.

No longer.

Blinking the tears out of your eyes as the door opens - you couldn't hear his footsteps - and watching as your husband steps in, eyes darting to the untouched food, you place your hands together and smile. "Welcome back." Your voice is so raspy, even to your own ears.

"You haven't touched your food." Sitting down beside you, he takes the fork. "Do you need help?"

You go to shake your head, but find no energy to do so. "Astarion..." Darting your eyes away, you say quietly, "I can't."

You know his face falls. "What?"

"I can't anymore." Looking at your hands, you elaborate, "I'm... I'm too tired. To chew. Swallowing is hard. And... I'm not hungry."

You feel those tears again, threatening to spill onto the blankets, the hand he wraps around yours, but you hold it back. Even as all the adventures you had together, all the stolen kisses and shared smiles and echoing laughter play behind your eyes. Shadowheart first pointing out Malta, Gale teaching Astarion a cantrip and stating it was the worst decision of his life even on his deathbed, Halsin leading you both on hikes, Jaheira taking everyone out on the town until everyone was so drunk they couldn't stand up.

A life, full of new and routine, love and companionship.

Feeling gentle fingers brush your chin, your eyes are guided to Astarion's, and what you see there threatens to break you.

It’s then that he decides he’s going to join you in the afterlife. There’s absolutely no way he could love another as viciously and passionately as he’s loved you

He had been contemplating it for a while anyway

He brings up how you two first met. Both of you chuckling as you remember him tackling you to the ground and holding a knife to your throat. How he almost killed you the first time he drank your blood. Who would’ve ever thought that you two would fall in love and spend your life together as you have

You smile to yourself as you lean your head on him, suddenly exhausted. Your heart is slowing. Tears spring to Astarion’s eyes as he realizes you aren’t going to make it through the night

He slowly lifts you from his shoulder as he turns to fully face you. You look into his beautiful eyes. Eyes that have always been so beautiful and have shown you so many emotions

He leans in to gently press a kiss on your wrinkled lips. The kiss is full of emotion and love. After a moment you both pull back and he tells you how much he loves you. That he wishes he was able to turn you back then so that you could spend an eternity together

The only regret he’ll ever have about not ascending is the fact you’d never be together forever. He knows he made the right choice. But he can’t help but be full of emotion and regret in these last moments you’ll ever have together

You tell him that it’s okay. That you know you’ll reincarnate and you’ll try your best find him again. He feels a pang of guilt surge through him

You don’t know that he’s going to follow you when you go. He doesn’t have it in him to tell you, but he knows that he must. There’s no secrets between you, and he’s not going to start now

When he tells you, tears spring to your eyes. You slowly, painfully, turn your whole body towards him and tell him that he can’t do that. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves to find love after you’re gone

He smiles sadly and tells you that there’s nothing else for him here, you were the only reason he had a reason to live. The only reason why he wanted to live

You can see in his eyes that he is determined to do this. That he won’t budge no matter how much you cry and plea for him to stay alive. You look away and shake your head as the tears begin to fall

You don’t want him to follow you. You want him to live and be free. To find new love and go on new adventures

He reaches over and wipes the tears off your cheeks. You turn to him and give him the most heartbreaking smile. Tears start to well up in his eyes and you both look at each other with so much love that’s now bittersweet

You wish you could live forever with him. What was a rocky start has turned into the most beautiful love story anyone could ask for. So you tell him okay. And that you’ll be waiting for him on the other side

As you both lay down in your bed he leans over and kisses you again. Softly, passionately. He knows this is the last kiss he’ll ever receive from you. He kisses you over and over, not wanting to part from you as he hears your heart struggling to keep beating

After a moment he pulls back and kisses you on your forehead. He takes you into his arms and whispers sweet nothings into your ear and you start to drift to sleep

Astarion can’t will himself to rest. His mind is racing a mile a minute, thinking about all the memories you’ve had together while feeling your body start to turn cold. Your blood flow slowing. Your heart had finally given out

It's so quiet.

So, so quiet.

A quiet he hasn't experienced in so long. A silence that pressed on him when punished under Cazador, trapped in a coffin, screaming, begging to be let out and answered with such a profound silence that stripped him to nothing.

This silence, though. This is worse.

So, so much worse.

The scream, the guttural, anguished scream that rips from his throat makes the very house shake. His fingers curl into claws as he grips you - gentle, always so gentle - and it's all he can do to keep himself from coming apart completely.

It's unbearable, the silence.

It's not until this moment where he realizes how much comfort your heartbeat had given him. Had become. How he could pinpoint your heartbeat within a crowd, no matter how big. How he'd wake up and hear that thrum and find a peace he never thought he'd ever have.

A peace he's lost, now. A peace now forever out of reach.

A shaky inhale is all he has as he turns to look. Your face, once always full of life and emotion, now only has a small smile. If it wasn't so quiet, so quiet, he would think you were just sleeping, and in an hour he would see the stars in your eyes as you looked at him.

Light taps at the windows, starting to lighten the night, and he knows he doesn't have much time left. A detached sort of numbness overcomes his heart as he stands up, walks to the closet, and takes out your favorite sweater. It doesn't matter anymore, he knows he knows, but you can't ever be cold, ever be uncomfortable.

The weight threatens to cripple him as he slips your arms in. As he slides the material over your head, careful to not mess up your hair. As he lifts you gently to pull down the edges.

It's when he brushes hair from your forehead that he realizes his hands are wet. His arms, too.

Distantly, he touches his face.

Wet.

Gently, he lifts your body into his arms and walks outside. The cold, crisp morning breeze biting his cheeks as he sets you down on a bench you have on your patio. Your head falling listlessly against his shoulder as he wraps his arm around you

He takes your now cold hand into his, rubbing your knuckles as he looks out to the scenery. The sun starting to rise above the mountains. It was the most beautiful place to live. And an even more beautiful place to enter the afterlife

It was this view, he remembers, that had you picking this house.

"I know you can't really see it," you'd laughed, throwing your arms up and gesturing toward the horizon painted in black, "but the dawn here is something to die for."

As the sky starts to turn a brighter color he sits there in silence. He’s never been more sure of anything in his life, except for being with you

The first touch of sunlight makes him flinch, a small, brief, hollow echo of self preservation pinging down an empty tunnel as he sits there. Feels the heat of the sun once more on his skin.

Feels it burn.

His eyes turn to that horizon you'd boasted about, and he must agree that you were right.

Reaching up, splaying a hand, he watches as the sunlight edges his fingers in gold. Even as they burn, turning black, ash catching in the wind.

His gaze turns to you, always turns to you. It's been so long since he's seen the sun in your hair, lightening your features. Pressing his lips to your temple, wondering briefly how much of his body remains, he drinks in your smile, the quiet of this moment, the color of the world.

The world you helped him see. The world you helped him explore.

One last time, he breathes you in deep, the scent of your shampoo tickling his nose. Your laughter echoing in his memory as the wind steals the rest of him, dusting him across the yard.

A golden wedding band falls to the ground at your still feet, wobbling along its round edges before coming to a stop.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion/reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader #tw death #tw suicide

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liliumsabyss · 2 years ago

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Your being

FEM DNI, I SWEAR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ESPECIALLY WITH THIS

Viktor(Arcane) x FTM! Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Tw: Mentions of Dysphoria, Mentions of being ashamed for being trans, some self-hate, Reader is on T, Reader is Pre-Top Surgery but is getting it, Needles, maybe ooc Viktor(?), The word trans is never used it is always referred to as “this”(makes sense in the context), Viktor got cured

A/n: HAPPY TRANS VISIBILITY DAY! Yes I know I am a little late on this but I still wanted to put something out there as a trans guy. This fic is based on a lot of my own emotions with being trans and how it’s caused me to view myself but also how I’ve grown from my past views of myself causing me to not be ashamed of myself and just let myself be me. And if anyone wants to hear any funny stories from my trans ass I would be more than willing to share them as there is a surplus. So to all my fellow trans masculine folks I hope you enjoy this fic and I wish the best to all of you!<3

In the midst of pursuing the hexacore and building hextech with Jayce, Viktor had met you, a bookstore owner from the rim in which Piltover and Zaun met. You were far more intelligent than being a bookstore owner would let on but didn’t show it off not even being aware that you had it causing Viktor to take on an immediate liking to you as he would peruse through the bookstore on his way to the lab in the early mornings when nothing yet your shop was open. The two of you had become quick friends and then eventually lovers and then you found yourselves sharing an apartment for what you two tried to excuse as for “financial reasons” even though you both knew it to not be true. Your relationship had been built on trust which didn’t come easy for either of you and yet you had kept something to yourself for all the time you had been together you didn’t know why, you weren’t ashamed of it itself, but you guessed you were ashamed in your mind that it would never be the same after Viktor would know. So it was your secret you kept, Viktor never verbally questioned why would would sleep with your shirt on, why you would use a bathrobe instead of a towel, why anytime physical intimacy started to “heat up” you’d awkwardly would put an end to it, why some days you’d sneer at anything that had a glossy enough surface to see your reflection, why you’d have to stab yourself with a needle full of some mysterious medicine(of course in the beginning he did question that one in concerns of your health and safety) and other attributes that for most men wouldn’t make sense. And you were so thankful for that so you kept your secret you knew it would never last but being with Viktor was sweet bliss so you’d enjoy it while it lasted. However you got a letter in the mail regarding top surgery you had spent years saving up for it your hands shook opening the letter terrified of what the surgeon had wrote and reading it you dropped it on the desk, heart surging, tears starting to well out of your eyes, and a huge smile found its way onto your face. They said yes. They said yes. The approval of the surgery. You’d finally be rid of the flesh on your chest that you so much anguish, the flesh that you detested would be replaced by two scars that would mark your struggle and victory. But as you checked the time you realized you were going to be late opening the shop you quickly stuffed the letter in the desk not thinking much about it running off being sure to lock the door behind you racing down the squeaky hallways.

Hours later Viktor arrived home shockingly early for him, you hadn’t even been home yet the reason he was home is he realized that while working on the hexacore he had some papers in the desk that could assist. He briskly walked over to the desk, his cane letting out soft sharp thuds against the wooden ground arriving at the desk. He opened the drawer and grabbed the papers without a thought rushing back to the lab even though it caused a thrumming pain in his leg. At the lab he slowly sat down in the wooden rolling chair he sifted through the papers reading each one carefully under the little lamp desk till he arrived at a letter confused. He read the first line and his heart dropped. It read your name and the words “ your surgery has been approved”. Viktor immediately stood upwards stumbling forgetting to grab his can but using the desk as support. He didn’t read past the first line but he knew what it meant or at least what he thought it meant. He grabbed his cane hurdling himself out of the lab barely remembering to lock it behind him he headed towards the apartment you both had called home, he knew at this time you’d be there. And he knew you, he knew that you would only get surgery that was essential to you which in his mind left only one possibility you were dying or could die without the surgery which broke his heart. Why would you keep something like that from him, especially knowing that once too he was a dying man. It also hurt him that it felt like you couldn’t rely upon him he would gladly pay for it then and one hundred times over after all hextech did make him and Jayce more wealthy and even then he could emotionally support you, be an anchor if you needed it. He wobbled up the uneven stairs and down the hall of the apartment building quickly unlocking the wooden oak door to your home while still having the letter in hand. Opening the door he saw you sitting on the couch curled up reading a book. He barged through the door slamming it behind him making you aware of his presence.

“ Hey Vik-“ You started to say before getting cut off by Viktor.

“ What is this?” He said sharply holding up the letter in his free hand giving it a slight shake angrily. Your eyes became as wide as saucers staring at the letter in his hand with fear as you bolted upwards your hands out in front of you ready to explain everything ready for your relationship to be over.

“ Look I can explain-“ You started once again before once again being cut off by the other male quite harshly.

“ How can you explain this?! How can you justify hiding this?!” Viktor responded bitterly, his tongue cutting sharp like knives.

“ I’m sorry I didn’t think it would ever get this far-“ You tried to say before Viktor interrupted.

“ You didn’t think it would get this far?! And what you're sorry you didn’t tell me you are dying!” He seethed out wrapped up in his emotions too wrapped up to notice the confused expression on your face.

“ I'm sorry, what?” You said dumbfounded and in utter confusion of his statement. Only saying this caused him to go on a rant about how could you not tell him and other statements along those lines. You went into your headspace trying to figure out what in the actual hell this conversation was about only to think about it more. Quickly you caught onto the fact that Viktor has always respected your privacy but a he must’ve accidentally come across the letter as it had been in the desk with some of his papers and had read it stopping after the first line for the sake of your privacy but also worry.

“ Viktor,” you started out sternly trying to make your voice as flat as possible. “ Viktor read the entire letter.”

Viktor just went silent his face still held bits of grief and anger but sure enough he looked down reading the letter his face remaining the same till you figured he came across the line “ the consultation before your chest masculinization subcutaneous mastectomy will be held on the date xx/xx/xxxx if you have any concerns or need to reschedule please respond back.” Viktors face softened with realization of your avoidance of being shirtless, or just naked in front of him for that matter yet unreadable as he finished the letter. He looked up at you. You thought you would be terrified and yet you felt relieved but you also felt grief mourning the relationship which you had thrived in wither away because of what you are.

“ I am sorry I lied to you, I'll pack my stuff and stay at the store.” You started remorsefully, your head hanging low, refusing to look at him chewing at your bottom lip in stress. The sound of his cane thumping across the floor matched your heartbeat and when he stopped in front of you the thumping stopped with both his cane and your heart. You almost jerked at the feeling of his strong thin hand that was placed on your shoulder waiting a second to see if you’d push his hand away from your shoulder to which you didn’t he stepped even closer sliding his arm around you holding you against his chest lightly to not scare you. While Viktor was touch starved it was often you who took charge grabbing his hand, pulling him into hugs and kisses all sorts of intimate moments but when he did take the lead it meant something it was his way of telling you that he loved you. And you could tell exactly what he was doing here embracing you gently enough where you could pull away at any moment if you so desired but hard enough where it anchored you there in that moment with him.

“ You never lied, and I am sorry my love I just worry for you.” The brunette male Sid squeezes you slightly for your comfort or maybe his own.

“ I am sorry I kept this from you but how can you still love me after knowing about this” you said wildly gesturing to your body still in VIktors embrace.

“ Because I love your entire being and this is a part of you so I love it as well.” VIktor stated warmly as if the sentiment was basic logic. But that’s exactly what you loved about Viktor is that to him his compassion, his love was just basic logic yet any other person would actually struggle to empathize and love at his level. And with the statement any of that shame that festered in you seeped out maybe not completely but you at least knew that you didn’t have to feel ashamed of it.

“ I love you so much Viktor.” You said squeezing you arms around him you could sense he flushed at the statemeant while he could say the sweetest phrases that mean ten times more than I love you to other people he himself could barely hear an “ I love you” without flushing and stammering.

“ And I you. And if you need me by your side I will be there.” He said squeezing you back the two of you standing there in the middle of your home just enjoying each other's embrace soaking in the love for one another.

#x male reader #Male reader #male reader insert #x ftm reader #ftm reader #viktor x male reader #Viktor x ftm reader #arcane x male reader #Arcane x ftm reader #x transmasc reader #x trans male reader #Trans #LiliumsAbyss<3

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lveclouds · 1 year ago

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↬ paring/characters: model! kwon soonyoung x biology major reader, other members may be mentioned/make appearances

↬ genre/aus: heavy fluff, minimal angst (like seriously you’ll blink and then it’s gone), slight college/university au, established relationship, song au, non idol au, long distance relationship

↬ summary: in which, whenever you’re with soonyoung, time seems to stop in its tracks.

↬ ratings(s): pg15, nc17 (see warnings)

↬ tw: heavy swearing, mentions of alcohol/mild consumption (reader and hoshi get a bit tipsy), mentions of school related stress (very brief), the members are quite literally reader’s support system in this fic <3, mentions/description of a past relationship/ex, mentions of cheating (not between hoshi and reader)

↬ wc: 3k

↬ note: hello loves! so, like a lot of my fics lately, the idea for it was yet another spur of the moment thing. the title of this fic comes from the song ‘7pm’ by bss (ft. peder elias), which is such a cute and soft song and it honestly makes my heart warm anytime i listen to it <3 its an instant serotonin booster. this song is also perfect for a late night drive or when the sun is starting to set. i highly recommend listening to this song while reading this :) also this fic is incredibiy cheesy/clichè, you’ve been warned <3

if anyone had told you that college was going to be easy, you would’ve laughed in their face. no, college was anything but easy, with an overwhelming amount of assignments, emails, and deadlines, it was enough for any person to go insane. though, you supposed it wasn’t all too bad, as you had a solid support system in the form of kwon soonyoung, your boyfriend of three years.

and, when he wasn’t around, your support system came in the form of twelve loud and chaotic guys that you adored dearly. you’d met choi seungcheol, kim mingyu, vernon, joshua, jun, minghao, seungkwan, dokyeom, woozi, wonwoo, chan, and, jeonghan during freshman orientation, and had it hit off fairly quickly with them, bonding over your favorite movies and music.

they were also fiercely protective of you, especially after some asshole you’d dated your sophomore year had cheated on you with some random girl he’d run into at a bar. they had all been beyond pissed when you’d showed up to their apartment, eyes red-rimmed from crying and tears staining your cheeks.

“give me that asshole’s address right now, so i can beat the shit out of him.” seungcheol had raged, pacing around their living room, the vein on his neck prominent. mingyu was not much better, mumbling expletives under his breath, jaw clenched so tightly you’d thought it hurt. seungkwan, minghao, and jun offered to slash his tires. “we would love to see the look on his face when he finds out that the tires of that shitty car he drives got slashed.”

the others had voiced their agreement, threatening to make your ex’s life a living hell due to the way he had treated you. as much as you were happy that your friends really,truly, cared about you, you wouldn’t be able to stomach it if they got hurt or injured for your sake.

“i appreciate it, guys, i really do, but i would never be able to forgive myself if any of you idiots got arrested or hurt because of me. besides, that asshole can rot in hell for all i care.” after that, they had all given you the best group hug ever, and all thoughts of your pathetic ex vanished.

soonyoung was an up and coming model, and was usually out of the country for weeks at a time, months, even. he was always traveling for a photoshoot or to attend a fashion show. but, on the rare times that he was home, he would always make sure to spend all of his time with you. “i’m almost never here, and being away from you physically hurts, so, on the off chance that i am home, i have to make every moment count.” he had said during a late night trip to the convenience store.

of course, you always missed sooyoung whenever he wasn’t around, but college and your friends kept you busy and distracted. for instance, wonwoo would take you to a local bookstore and you would bond over a love of classics and romance novels, spending hours upon hours browsing their selection. seungkwan, chan, and jeonghan would treat you to korean barbeque after a long day of classes, and, if you weren’t too exhausted, a karaoke session was never too far behind.

your friends were always there to comfort and distract you whenever soonyoung was gone, and for that, you were forever grateful. wallowing and sulking around in your dorm room was something that your boyfriend would highly disapprove of. thus, you tried to always go out and keep yourself occupied, even if it was something as simple as buying groceries.

this time, though, soonyoung was finally home for more than a few weeks, and you were over the moon. college became even more bearable, knowing that he wasn’t in some foreign country, a million miles away. your classes ran until late in the evening at times, and you would always tell soonyoung not to wait up for you if he was tired, but he always did.

this evening had been no exception. your lab class had ran late yet again, and by the time you stumbled tiredly out of the science building, you were about ready to collapse. soonyoung had been waiting for you outside, resplendent even in a loose, white button down thrown over a black shirt, loose, light blue jeans, and black sneakers, raven hair adorably mussed.

“hi love!” he had said in lieu of greeting, amber eyes practically lighting up. immediately, any exhaustation you had melted away, replaced with renewed energy. soonyoung had that effect on you, you supposed. “hi.” you murmured softly, heart warming as he took you into his arms, wrapping his strong arms around you, pulling you flush against his body.

you had all but melted into the warmth and solidness of him, breathing in his cedar and musk scent that was almost comforting. you felt him press a soft kiss into your hair, and you let out a sigh of content, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder. “long day?” you nodded. “mmm, my lab class ran late again.”

“i know you’re exhausted, and the last thing you probably want to do is to be out right now, but i was thinking we could go for a walk along the han river? we don’t have to if you you’re not up for it, just say the word and we’ll go to your dorm, no questions asked.” your heart warmed at this, soonyoung always took your feelings into consideration, which was something your past partner had never done.

you shook your head. “i was exhausted at first, but honestly, the last thing i want to do is go back to my dorm.” soonyoung pulled back, but kept his arms around you, concern furrowing his brow. “are you sure?” he asked gently. “i’m sure. besides, a late night walk with you sounds romantic.” at that, your boyfriend rolled his eyes fondly. “of course it does.”

and so here you were, walking hand in hand with soonyoung, admiring how the moonlight cast silver shadows onto the smooth surface of the han river, letting the cool night breeze wash over you. it was peaceful and serene, even with the faint rumbles of car engines and light chatter filling the air.

the streelamps cast golden shadows onto the smooth, concrete surface of the bridge you were walking on, adding even more to the tranquil atmosphere. a comfortable silence settled around you, and any feelings of stress or exhaustation you had had earlier completely vanished. they always seemed to, at least, whenever you were with soonyoung.

“how have you been?” he asked after a while, the pad of his thumb making gentle circles on the back of your hand. “i’m doing okay, jeonghan and the others have been keeping me company when i’m not drowning in my coursework.” you joked, and immediately regretted it upon seeing the frown marring your boyfriend’s features. “i’m fine, love, i promise.” you reassured him, leaning up to press a soft kiss on his cheek, which lessened the tension in his shoulders a bit. “are you eating enough? are you taking care of yourself while i’m gone?”

your heart ached at how worried he sounded. “i am, i promise, love. mingyu made me three weeks worth of food yesterday and dropped it off, insisting that he would never let a friend of his starve.” at that, soonyoung’s expression softened, the corner of his mouth curved into a small smile. “sounds like him.”

“are you sure you’re okay, though?” you nodded. “positive.” sooyoung exhaled softly, the sound more resigned than anything. “ok, i trust you, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?” “i know.” your boyfriend smiled, a real one this time, eyes crinkling at the corners. “good.”

as you continued your walk, soonyoung chatted excitedly about the various cities he’d visited while modeling, even pulling out his phone at times to show you pictures of gorgeous landscapes and architecture, amber eyes lighting up like a kid at a candy store, the sight incredibly endearing.

the late evening air was cool and crisp, a gentle gust of wind whispering through the trees and lifting your hair, brushing at your cheeks. these were the moments with soonyoung that you treasured the most, when it was just you and him, and you could forget about all the stress and worries in your life.

and, as clichè as it was, time seemed to stand still whenever you were with soonyoung, and you could just focus on being with him, and nothing else mattered. “seungcheol hyung’s been telling me that one of your professors is giving you a hard time.” soonyoung was saying, snapping you out of your trance.

you silently vowed to strangle your friend later for snitching. “he is, but it’s nothing i can’t handle.” the professor in question taught your biochem class, and was notorious for slamming his students with tight deadlines and hashed terrible grades out as if they were playing cards. your boyfriend chuckled softly, squeezing your hand gently.

“ok, as long as you’re sure you don’t need me to beat his ass.” you snorted, nudging your boyfriend’s ribs gently with your elbow. “soonyoung, i love you, but you don’t have a violent bone in your body.” said male huffed. “i do.” “ok, ok, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

he gave you a half-hearted glare, and you couldn’t help the amused laugh that spilled from your lips. “i appreciate you wanting to defend me, love, but we all know you wouldn’t hurt a fly.” “whatever.” he mumbled, bottom lip jutting out slightly in a pout, and you giggled, leaning in to press a gentle kiss onto his cheek. “it’s okay, i still love you regardless.” color rose to your boyfriend’s cheeks, staining them pink, and you fought the urge to coo at the sight.

you and soonyoung made your way down the bridge, occasionally stopping to steal kisses and take photos, laughing at the goofy faces you made in some of them. you felt lighter than you had in weeks, glad to finally be able to let all your worries melt away, and just enjoy your boyfriend’s company.

after a while, you finally admitted to your boyfriend that you were a bit hungry, as you hadn’t eaten since your lab started, which, as you expected, didn’t go over too well with him. “love, why didn’t you say anything earlier?” he asked, worry evident in his tone as he dragged you over to the nearest convenience store.

“i-i didn’t want to bother you.” you mumbled, feeling tears prick the corner of your eyes. you hated making him worry and fuss over you, as it immediately made you feel guilty. suddenly, soonyoung stopped in his tracks, and before you could say anything else, you were wrapped in a warm and strong embrace, arms wrapping around your shoulders in a bear hug.

you curled your arms around soonyoung’s back, pressing your hands into his shoulder blades, breathing in his familiar cedar and musk scent. soonyoung drew soothing circles on your back, and you felt him tuck your head underneath his chin. and, after weeks and weeks of bottling up your emotions, you finally let go, sobbing into the crook of soonyoung’s neck, clinging on to him like a lifeline.

“i’m sorry,” you croaked, voice hoarse from crying, hastily wiping away your tears with the back of your hand. “i didn’t mean to ruin the mood.” your boyfriend scoffed, pulling back to look you in the eyes, but keeping his hands on your shoulders, his grip gentle but firm. “don’t apologize, love. and you didn’t ruin anything. i would rather you be honest with me than keep everything to yourself. you’re never a burden to me, love. ever.”

god, you really didn’t deserve this wonderful, selfless, and caring man, not for one second. you let out a hoarse laugh, heart warming as your boyfriend wiped away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb, amber eyes soft. “i don’t deserve you.” you whispered, and soonyoung shook his head. “it’s the other way around, love.”

“can we please go get food now? i’m starving.” he laughed, the light in his eyes returning. “of course, love.” minutes later, you sat on a park bench alongside your boyfriend, practically inhaling a bowl of delicious, spicy ramen, vegetable kimbap, and downing a can of your favorite beer. the skyscrapers looked like tiny, glittering beacons of light from where you sat, casting shadows onto the tranquil surface of the river.

“i’m glad we did this.” you said through a mouthful of kimbap, and soonyoung gave a noncommittal grunt in agreement, downing the rest of his beer, cheeks slightly flushed red. “thank you for letting me take you here, i didn’t want to force you, especially since you looked so drained from your lab today.”

“you didn’t force me at all. besides, this is a nice distraction from all of the coursework waiting for me.” you murmured, finishing off the rest of your kimbap, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “oh,” soonyoung said, worry marring his features, “did you have something due tonight?” you shook your head, giving your boyfriend what you hoped was a reassuring smile. “no, don’t worry, the assignment’s due tomorrow. so, it can wait.”

soonyoung’s shoulders relaxed a bit. “ok, good.” you let out a soft sigh of content, downing the rest of your beer and throwing it into the trash can next to you. then, you scooted closer to your boyfriend, who immediately wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and you smiled, resting your head on his broad shoulder.

a comfortable silence settled over you, and you closed your eyes, a wave of peace washing over you. “going to close my eyes, just for a few minutes.” you mumbled, speech slurring a bit, and were vaguely aware of a pair of lips on your forehead before sleep took over.

when you woke up, you were in a large, cozy bed, wrapped up in the warm, white sheets. the moonlight streamed in through the massive windows, bathing the room in silver. soonyoung was passed out next to you, chest rising up and down peacefully, dark hair adorably mussed, an arm wrapped securely around your waist.

you smiled, and shifted so you were facing him, reaching out and brushing stray strands of hair from his forehead, causing him to stir a bit, eyes blinking open slowly. “love?” he whispered, voice heavy with sleep, and you leaned in to press a soft kiss to his mouth. “did i wake you?”

soonyoung shook his head, and you smiled, snuggling deeper into him, burying your face in the soft cotton of his shirt, letting out a content sigh. “you know, i’ve never actually said this, but, time seems to stop whenever i’m with you.” you mumbled into his shirt, glad for the darkness of the room so he couldn’t see the blush forming on your face.

soonyoung chuckled, carding a hand through your hair gently. “you’re so cute, so adorable.” he cooed, and you swatted at his chest playfully. “s-shut up.” “forget what i said.” “no can do love, once it’s out in the world, you can’t take it back. “if you tell mingyu or any of my friends about this, i will skin you alive.” “noted.”

“c-can you sing me to sleep? i know that’s really cheesy, but-” “of course love, anything.” soonyoung said immediately, cutting you off abruptly. “any particular one in mind?” “no, surprise me.” you all but melted in your boyfriend’s arms, relishing in the warmth and familiarity of him, his comforting scent wrapping around you.

a beat of silence, a deep breath, and then soonyoung began to sing. “meet on han river at 7pm, you and i must meet before the moon comes, our answer is right in front of our eyes. After a long, long, day, the two of us meet. one drink for a day tired of jokes, the night comes too soon. stop the time, be here with me.” his voice was soft yet melodic, and you allowed yourself a content smile before drifting off, letting your boyfriend’s soothing voice lull you to sleep.

a/n: god im so lonely :’) anyways yeah that was the cheesiest shit i’ve ever written, i hope you guys liked it lmao <3 i just felt like writing something soft and cute you know :(( like yeah where can i get a hoshi pls and thank you <3 but in all seriousness, though, i hope this fic brings you some sort of comfort and makes you smile! this was also my first hoshi fic :)

tagging: @skyjoong , @playmetheclassics, @hong-jisoo , @taeyo95 , @shuadotcom + anyone else who wants to read this <3 !

#mine #seventeen fluff #kwon soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #fic: 7pm

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be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie · 1 year ago

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We don't have enough Aonung x Rotxo, and im not happy about it.

First of all: what is their ship name?

second: why are there not so many fics about them?

third: i want prompts about them.

the only one i came up with is; Rotxo feeling jealous/left out/ not consider now that the sully kids are here, since Aonung spent all his time (tormenting) them.

one night after maybe five months of the sully being there, is one of Aonung and Rotxo date night (they are officially courting) but Aonung can't stop talking about the sully kids.

"Are you fucking serious?!" asks Rotxo as he suddenly stands up from the soft sand. "What?" asks Aonung with a surprised (and scared) tone, he watch worry as his best friend and boyfriend gets up. "i been planning this night for weeks, because you are always busy or with training or with the family of toruk maktao, we barely spent time together, and once we do you are talking about others!" Rotxo is angry, Aonung saw him this angry only once, when they were little and an older kid pushed Tsireya on the ground. Not hard or on purpose, but still Tsireya who at the time was only a toddler immediately started crying. And as Aonung comforted his little sister, he noticed Rotxo yelling at the older kid and making him run away with tears. Rotxo could be as evil as a sky demon if someone hurt the persons he cares about. it was at that moment that Aonung knew, that was his future mate, not discussing it further. As Rotxo makes his way to walk off, Aonung manages to hold his wrist. his eyes full of regret, he watched as the not-braided curly boy snapped his head towards him. "i swear i stop, I'm sorry oeyä tìyawn, please forgive me, tell me everything you want i won't talk, only admire you" Aonung said and he relaxed when he saw Rotxo lips becoming a smirk. as he settled down again next to him (now closer, he could if wanted rest his head on the other chest) he murmured "Corny skxawng" then Rotxo narrated to the other boy, all the things he done that week, and all the things he planned to do. after they happily eat together and went to race with their ilu, then said goodbye with a kiss before returning to their own family marui.

this is stupid, but is okay because is like 3 am and I'm stupid myself.

You are not stupid, this is adorable! I 100% agree, they were the first ship I thought of honestly. I was like oh this kid is just hanging around all the time and is basically part of the family? Well, one of my favorite tropes ever is the family basically adopting their kids significant other. Rotxo's just over all the time living with Tonowari's family just because he'd going to mate with Ao'nung and everyone just like, knows and now expects him to be around? Iconic.

Like, Ronal's baby she hasn't had yet? That child would just grow up 24/7 with Rotxo around, they've never experienced life without him there. That's adorable. My mom is eight years older than her youngest brother, and going through her family pictures eventually it's just her and her siblings and also my dad there in every graduation picture, holiday picture, and so on. It's so funny and adorable to me. That's Rotxo with Ao'nung.

I think the best prompt for them is that they aren't crazy into PDA, they just vibe mostly in the most secure and confident relationship ever, to the point that it takes the Sully's an absurd amount of time to notice they are even courting. Spider is rescued and Neteyam is recovering and Ao'nung is being a little bit of a dick to Spider, and Rotxo goes "Sorry about my future mate, he can be a dick." And Lo'ak and Kiri are like WHAT.

I can also see a story in the personality differences. Ao'nung... not to be rude, but he's kind of a dick there at the beginning. Rotxo is our sweet baby angel so I can see Ao'nung spending too much time with his little asshole friends and them drifting apart as a result. It's another interesting dynamic.

#we love ao'nung and rotxo thoughts #ao'nung #rotxo #ao'nung x rotxo #tsireya #tonowari #ronal #avatar #avatar the way of water #james cameron avatar (cameron)#melissa on avatar #melissa's asks

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strangethings-everywhere · 2 years ago

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Before You Go // Ethan Landry // Ch.2

Masterlist Word Count: 1277 Warnings: swearing, depictions of violence and harm, trauma Author's note: I've written so much of this fic already and it's been two days, I am on a ROLL

After moving to New York with your friends after the Woodsboro killings, you try to leave all of it behind you and start over. You become friends with Ethan Landry, but after Ghostface returns, you start to become suspicious of everyone, especially him.

Turns out you weren’t the only one who had an encounter with Ghostface in the forty-eight hours after the frat party. You had gone to the sleepover at the Carpenter’s apartment and decided to skip class the next day, electing to stay in your room watching Golden Girls.

Tara and Sam had barely made it out of a bodega alive after seeing Ghostface on the street. Not only that, your film teacher had been gutted in an alley by one of your classmates.

Mindy and Anika had dragged you out to the quad for a mandatory meeting, but you could barely concentrate on what they were saying. Your body felt numb and your hands hadn’t stopped shaking since your conversation with Ghostface. Memories of your last encounter with the faceless killer kept flooding your mind despite your best attempts to forget.

The three of you were the last ones to arrive. Sam and Tara looked exhausted, Quinn and Chad were bickering about something, and Ethan was scrolling on his phone. You sat next to Ethan, who gave you a small smile.

“Listen up nerds, as terrifying as it is, I’m glad I get a chance to redeem myself for not calling the killers last time.” Mindy stood in front of the group with a determined look on her face. You let out a sigh; it was time to hear the rules once again. “The way I see it, they’re making a sequel to the requel.”

“What’s a requel?” Anika asked. Mindy shook her head.

“You’re beautiful, save the questions for the end.”

“Hold on.” You raised a hand. “Are they trying to copy the movies now?”

“Yes, that makes sense. We are in college now.” Mindy nodded. “Y/N, you know what I’m talking about.”

You stood. “Well, let’s think about this. This isn’t just a sequel anymore.”

“Wait why?” Tara asked.

“This is a mother effing franchise.” You began to pace back and forth. “Bigger budget, bigger cast, bigger EVERYTHING. I mean Tara and Sam just got chased through the streets of NYC and he shot up a fucking bodega. This is more violent, more bloody. They need to make a statement.”

“Yes, exactly!” Mindy clapped. “We’ve got new characters to round out the suspect list or the body count,” she pointed at Ethan, Quinn, and Anika, “and now legacy characters are expendable, brought in just to be killed off in some cheap bid for nostalgia. It’s not looking good for Kirby or Gale. Even…”

Everyone turned and looked at Tara and Sam. “Guys,” You took a deep breath. “Even Tara and Sam aren’t safe anymore. Anyone could go.”

“Wait,” Ethan glanced up at you. “Am I in the friend group?”

“Yeah.” Mindy nodded.

“Am I a target?”

“Mhmm.”

“Am I… am I gonna die a virgin?”

You snorted and Chad gave him a weird look. “This also means that you newbies are automatically on the suspect list.”

“Why am I a suspect? Just because I’m randomly Chad’s roommate?” Ethan looked offended.

“No offense, but the roommate lotteries can be juked.” You shrugged and took a seat next to him. “We’ve just got to cover all our bases.”

As Mindy continued tearing into the others, you tried to steady your hands and breathing. Despite your extensive knowledge of horror films, knowing the rules for surviving a slasher movie never boosted your confidence. You all knew the rules last time and it didn’t make a difference.

“Y/N?” Your head snapped up at Ethan’s voice. Mindy had finished her spiel and the others were getting up to go their various ways. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, this just fucking sucks.” You let out a shaky sigh. “I really hoped it was over.”

Ethan slowly took your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m sure it’ll be okay. You beat him once before, you can do it again.”

“I just hate that he keeps coming back. I’m just so scared.” You could feel a sob building up in your throat. “I barely made it the last time and I don’t want to be looking over my shoulder for the rest of my life.”

“Can I, uh, can I ask what happened to you, last time?”

It was the night of Amber’s party and you were having a great time. Unfortunately, you were also standing in the living room when Amber pulled out a gun and shot Liv in the head. After that, everything went to shit.

You ran as fast as you could up the stairs and dove into one of the bedrooms, locking the door behind you. You could hear someone on the stairs and you desperately began searching for something to protect yourself.

“Y/N, where are youuuuuuu?” Ghostface called, his scratchy voice filling your body with terror. “I’m coming to kill you first!”

“Shit.” You took one of the chairs and shoved it under the doorknob, then slid under the bed with a pair of scissors from the nearby desk. Time seemed to slow down as you listened for Ghostface, your heart beating faster and faster.

Something hit the door and you slapped a hand over your mouth, trying desperately to muffle your cry. Ghostface kicked the door again and again until the chair fell and hit the ground with a bang.

“I know you’re in here.” You watched as his boots stepped into the room. You began to shake, tears streaming down your cheeks. “C’mon Y/N, come out and play.”

Suddenly, a hand closed around your ankles and yanked you out from under the bed. It was Richie, a sadistic grin painted on his face as he lunged at you with a knife. You let out a scream and plunged the scissors into his shoulder as hard as you could.

“OW, FUCKING BITCH!” Richie bellowed and stabbed the knife into your hip.

Pain washed over your body as Richie continued to stab you over and over. You screamed as loud as you could and tried to kick him off, but he was stronger than you. Finally, you slammed your knee in between his legs, managing to distract him long enough to escape. You pulled yourself to your feet and ran.

“HELP!” You wailed, nearly falling down the stairs. Blood soaked your clothes and skin, pain radiating through you with every step. You could see Sidney in the foyer and she ran to you. “It’s Richie and Amber, he tried to kill me.”

“I know sweetie, it’ll be okay.” Sidney wrapped her arm around you and pulled you to the front porch. “Stay outside, I’ll take care of them.”

When the ambulance arrived, you were lying in a pool of your own blood, barely conscious. You had been stabbed twelve times in the legs, hips, and abdomen. It was a miracle that you and Chad had made it out alive. If they had been any later, you would’ve bled out and died.

By the time you finished your story, your cheeks were wet with tears. It had been a while since you’d told anyone what had happened to you. A twinge of pain radiated from your left side, where most of your scars were. Every once in a while, the wounds would ache.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry that happened.” Ethan wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you gladly leaned into his embrace. “I won’t let that happen to you again.”

“Thanks, Ethan,” you sniffled, “you’re a good friend.”

He smiled. “Of course. Friends don’t let friends get attacked by Ghostface.”

Despite everything, you believed him. Nothing would happen to you while Ethan was around and for once, you felt a little safer.

#ethan landry #jack champion #scream 6 #scream franchise #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine

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whyiseverynametakenpls · 1 year ago

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Why don't you believe me?

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Genre : angst

Tw : none... I think

Pairing : Ren Zotto x reader

Characters : Ren Zotto and reader

Story : I promise I would never do such a thing. Please, believe me.

Info : (the reader is apart of the student council) + I'm stepping into unknown territory so idk :D

The day began in a very calm manner, which made you feel uneasy. While seated beside the kitchen counter, you checked your messages and noticed that they were mostly spam. A few of your friends told you to visit the school board website, which you did, albeit with a perplexed expression.

To your astonishment, the website was inundated with individuals frantically discussing a rumor. As you read through the comments, you experienced an weird feeling that signaled that something was happening. This feeling was amplified as you stumbled upon a specific comment.

[What the hell… I thought they were nice. I can’t believe I was ever friends with (Name)]

"What... Why am I being involved too?" You exclaimed, feeling confused and alarmed. You shook your head and clicked on the original post, which contained two attachments: a photo and a Word document. With a sense of suspicion, you opened the Word document and quickly scanned its contents.

Your breathing grew faster and shallower as you scrolled through the document, realizing that you had never done what was being accused against me. You hadn't mocked or ridiculed anyone. Please, believe me.

Your mind was consumed with thoughts when suddenly, you heard a notification sound from my phone. Slowly, you turned to check and saw that it was a message from Ren.

Oh no... He must have seen the website. What should I do? Should I ignore his message or reply to it? What's the right course of action? He probably despises me now...

Trying to steady your nerves, you decide to open his message regardless. You hands shook as you picked up your phone, unlocked it, and searched for his chat.

[I can’t believe you! Why would you do such a thing!?]

[You are now blocked by this user]

"I swear I didn't do it!" Your hands were shaking uncontrollably as you scrolled through your messages, desperately searching for any evidence that could clear your name. However, to your dismay, there was only the same message.

[You are now blocked by this user]

"Why doesn't anyone believe me? I never did any of that. Please, believe me..."

Those were the thoughts running through your mind before you heard another notification sound from your open laptop.

Upon checking, you saw that it was a message from the school council's official account. Perhaps they were here to address the confusion and clear your name. You felt a sense of relief wash over yourself as you thought to myself, "It's going to be okay. Everything will be fine."

[We are sorry to inform you, we have just lost a member of our own student council…] Click to learn more...

"Oh... They really don't believe me, do they?" Tears began dripping down my face as you came to terms with the harsh reality. You tried to blink them away, but they continued to fall relentlessly. With a bitter laugh, you couldn't help but feel sorry for myself. Maybe you shouldn't even be here at all.

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-> first njsj fic... Uh yay ig...? I'm running out of ideas help 😔😔

<- MASTERLIST

#nijisanji en #nijisanji en x reader #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji iluna #iluna x reader #iluna #ren zotto #ren x reader #ren zotto x reader

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standingonsound · 2 years ago

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so im having some issues on a wip that's a follow up to my iono fic so i wrote a quick little thing to try and reinvigorate myself. idk if it's going up on ao3 or anything but assuming i manage to work through all my plans i like having this out since it shows that rika did try to help iono with her issues

also i didnt do any editing so its probably rough as fuck but whatever

Rika knocks on the door. She waits. The sound of music rumbles from inside the apartment, but no one comes to answer. She tries again. Her fingers toy with the ring of keys hanging from her belt. She has a spare key. She can just barge in. It’s how she got into the building up to this point. She doesn’t want to enter the apartment without permission though. It’s rude, disrespectful.

But this is important. Iono’s performance review for the past quarter is concerning, and the League is considering cutting her loose. Rika knows what the problem is. She covered for Iono, and is the only reason her friend still has the job at all. Rika needs to warn her, to get Iono serious about improving her performance.

She knocks a third time. When there’s still no response, she plucks her keyring from her belt loop and shoves the key for Iono’s apartment into the lock. She turns the knob and cracks the door.

“Iono?” she shouts over the music. “I’m coming in!”

She pushes the door the rest of the way. Iono’s apartment is a mess, as always. Iono is sprawled out on the couch, her head in the lap of the friend who’s been visiting. It would be cute, if not for the blank looks on their faces or the drool dripping down her friend’s chin.

Rika’s heart skips a beat. She thinks the two are dead for a second, before Iono jerks awake and lifts her head.

“Izzomone ‘ere?” Iono mumbles.

Rika’s fear turns to anger. She storms up to Iono. “What the hell is the matter with you!?” Rika restrains herself from attacking or grabbing the other girl. To occupy her hands, she makes sure the friend is breathing. She is.

Iono blinks a few times, looking Rika up and down. “Rika?”

Rika squats so that she can get in Iono’s face. “What the hell is this?” she asks. “You said you were cutting back.”

Iono has the decency to look guilty. “I am, I swear! But Roxie came to visit and we thought it would be fun to get high. This is the first time in a while.” She’s not even trying to use her normal voice. Instead, her voice sounds deeper, almost gravely.

Rika strokes Iono’s cheek. She’s gaunt, half-starved. Her teeth are yellow and she smells like it’s been a while since she last bathed. She didn’t look this bad the last time Rika confronted her about her drug problem. “What’s going on with you?” Rika asks. “Is there something you need to talk about?”

Tears well up in Iono’s eyes, but she blinks them away. “I’m fine,” she says. “Work’s kinda stressful, that’s all.”

“You mean the Gym?”

Iono shakes her head. “Streaming,” she answers. “I’ve been getting raided by trolls. They’re griefing and costing me subs and ad revenue.”

Iono tries to lift herself out of Roxie’s lap, but she needs Rika’s help. After getting her upright, Rika sits down next to her.

“Listen, Iono,” she says. “I didn’t come just to say hi. Your League performance reviews are crap. You’re not keeping your Gym open regularly enough, and when it is open you’re not accepting enough challengers. Then, your battles are lackluster, too. You’ve been keeping your Pokémon sharp, right?”

Iono twiddles her thumbs. “Like I said, I’ve been trying to cut back. It’s hard. I get, like, sick. I can’t even get out of bed.”

Rika pities Iono, but going easy on her at this point would doom her. The only way forward is to push. “They want to revoke your Gym license, Iono. I talked them out of it this time, but I won’t be able to save you again.”

Iono buries her face in her hands and sobs. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better.”

Rika hugs her. “I’m here for you, whatever you need. We can get you in NA and—”

“No!” Iono jerks out of Rika’s grip. “If my sponsors find out they’d drop me. I have to do it on my own.”

Rika takes Iono’s hands in hers. “No, you don’t. I’m here. Anything you need, I’ll help.”

Iono rests her head on Rika’s shoulder. “Thanks.”

Rika pats her on the knee. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll always have your back.”

Roxie chooses then to stir from her daze.

“You alright over there?” Rika asks.

She jerks, turns to Rika. “Who’re you?”

For a moment, Rika considers being mean. “Rika,” she says. “I came by to check on Iono.”

Roxie squints, suspicious. “I’m Roxie,” she says.

“Charmed,” Rika says.

The conversation grinds to a halt.

“Well, I should be going.” Rika stands up. “Iono, please remember what we talked about. For your sake.”

Iono’s face is red, and she struggles to look Rika in the eye. “I will.”

“Thanks.” Rika tips her head to Roxie. “It was nice to meet you. I’ll see you around.”

Roxie nods, but doesn’t say a word.

Rika leaves. She worries that she hasn’t really gotten through to Iono. Drastic measures might be necessary, but Rika doesn’t want to put her friendship in jeopardy. For now, Rika decides to trust her words got through to her friend. Iono needs to get her act straight. If she loses her position as a Gym Leader, she won’t be able to keep her apartment. Rika wouldn’t let her end up on the street, but it’s not like she makes enough to support someone else. Larry would help her make ends meet, but that wouldn’t be fair to him. He already does way too much.

Rika spares a backwards glance at Iono’s apartment door. “Good luck,” she whispers, then heads down the stairs.

#rika pokemon #iono pokemon #roxie pokemon #writing #fanfiction #cw drug abuse

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00fairylights00 · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 2: Fancy Meeting You Here

Author's Note:

I am back again lmao, my workplace is going through a massive restructure and I am currently being tested for narcolepsy so writing was not at the top of the priority list but we're here yay! Wanna chat with me about this fic or other Little Nightmares-related topics, you can join The Pantheon discord server my friends and I run! The link is here! Warnings: gun use/mentions, mentions of previous open wound/injury, swearing

By the skin of her teeth, Maddie makes it out of her fight with The Viewer alive. Taking refuge in an old apartment she finds she isn’t as alone as she thinks she is.

I leant my body hard against the wood of the door and rested my shotgun against the wall before sliding down to the floor. Pain bloomed in my calf and I bit back a sob, lifting my pant leg up to reveal the damage. There was a tear through the back of my calf, the skin surrounding the injury red and raw.

The damage wasn’t deep but it would scar and it hurt like a bitch. I ripped my backpack and face mask off, pulling out the red first aid kit I’d packed. I downed a couple of painkillers with a mouthful of water, reaching for the rubbing alcohol and a rag, I pulled my glove off and shoved it in my mouth to muffle the inevitable yelps of pain I was going to make.

I took a deep breath and then all I could feel was red-hot pain.

Keep pushing through, I told myself, tears streaking my dirty face as I tried hard to keep my voice down while I cleaned and bandaged my leg. I coughed into the dusty room while I caught my breath, the windows facing the courtyard were broken, the cold wind of the starting winter whistling through them.

I tipped my head back against the door and looked up at the ceiling, tracing the pattern of damp that collected in the corner. I heard shuffling somewhere deeper in the room but ignored it, it wasn’t loud or erratic enough to be anything too dangerous, probably a rodent.

Then there was a thready cough, still too small and weak to be anything worth worrying over but I definitely wasn’t alone in this room. I took another deep breath, quelling the curiosity that had risen in me, whatever it was, it wasn’t my problem.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” Came a hushed whisper from around the corner, that sounded like a kid.

It was definitely my problem now.

I stood slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible, following the gentle voice around an overturned sofa. It had to be a kid, and said kid had to have heard me come in, I wasn’t exactly quiet about it. I’d probably scared them half to death.

I placed my hand on the worn fabric of the sofa, wincing when I put too much weight on my bad leg, but this gave me the advantage of seeing movement. There was a cardboard box pressed into the corner of the room, covered by a ratty towel that swayed slightly. I got down on my hands and knees, crawling towards the box.

I put my hand in clear view of the opening, giving the kid a chance to run if they felt the need to, trying to remember everything Halle had taught me about building trust. When I got no response I lifted the towel, only for a tiny foot to stomp down on my other hand, I yelped at the pain in my hand and then the pain in my leg as I scrambled to get back. Yep, definitely a kid.

A hand peeked out from behind the box, pulling the towel away and showing off— a paper bag mask?

“Taken.” Came the kid’s icy response. The two small eye holes of his mask stared me down intensely. A boy, only a couple of feet tall and dirty from head to toe.

“I didn’t know it was taken,” I gestured to the surrounding room, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t trust you,” he looked me over, head tilting to the side, “bang stick?”

Bang stick? Bang stick. Gun, he was asking about my shotgun.

“The gun? It’s by the door, far away. It can’t hurt you. I won’t use it.”

He seemed to perk up at the sentiment, his body language opening up for just a second before he was setting his shoulders again, drawing back. He took a step out of the box, approaching me while I backed up to give him space.

“Hurt?” He whispered, I made a noise of confusion and then he pointed at my calf, covered in gauze and bandages, “are you hurt?”

“Uh yeah, yeah hurt.”

“Fix?” He looked back up at me, “How?”

“Uh, first aid kit. It has bandages and medicine in it,” The mention of medicine brought him all the way out of the box, the towel swishing forward and letting me see a second child that he was protecting, “Does your friend in there need help? Medicine?”

“Medicine, medicine! My friend, she’s hurting!” He stated with urgency, reaching forward to pull on my sleeve desperately. “Help?”

I nodded and got back up to grab the kit from where I’d left it by the door. When I came back he was holding the towel out of the way so I could see his friend. She was bundled up in all manner of fabrics, tossing and turning, a sheen of sweat on her face as she curled in on herself. I pressed the back of my gloveless hand to the sleeping girl’s forehead and reeled back in shock.

“She’s too hot.” I fretted, working on getting some of the many layers off of her. She had a fever so high I was sure she wouldn’t remember any of this, her breaths coming out in small, almost inaudible wheezes. I pushed her dark bangs from her forehead and she opened her eyes.

There was no recognition of danger in her expression, this kid was dying or at the very least accepting death. I felt my heart tug uncomfortably, she was also tiny, the fabrics swallowing her form as she whimpered. I sat on the floor with my bad leg extended as Paper Bag sat down close to her and started stroking her hair,

“What’s her name?” I asked, removing my other glove and rummaging through the kit.

“Why?” He asked, voice edged with suspicion.

“Because,” I smiled, “how else will I know what to call you two?”

“Six,” he pointed at his friend.

“Like the number?” I asked with amusement, he nodded. “And what’s your name?”

“Mono.”

Number based names, I wondered if they’d picked them out themselves. I pulled out a small bottle of medicine and a plastic measuring cup.

“I’m Maddie, it’s nice to meet you. Do you think you can help me out?” He nodded enthusiastically, “I need you to take this cloth and get it cold and wet, can you do that?”

“Yes, yes!” Mono took the cloth and rushed towards the open doorway to the kitchen, I put my focus back on Six, pulling her out of the box and propping her up between my legs.

She stirred minutely at the change of position before settling again. I poured medicine into the cup and tipped her head back, gently stroking her throat with a finger to coax her barely conscious body to swallow the amber liquid. Despite her lack of response so far the medicine certainly had her moving, she coughed and made a face at the taste. “I know honey, I know. Not a great taste is it?”

Mono returned with the cloth, handing it over and kneeling down beside my thigh. He hesitated for a moment, keeping his arms close to his chest and flexing his hands as he regarded me before giving up on his internal battle and leaning his arms on my leg and then his head on his arms. I folded the cloth up and started to pat Six down with it, focusing on her face and neck, she whimpered at the intense difference in temperatures.

“I’m sorry Six, I know it doesn’t feel great but we need to cool you off.” I soothed, Mono reached out to hold her hand, running his thumb over Six’s knuckles, the small action putting her exhausted body at ease.

“Still don’t trust you,” Mono warned, “not stupid.”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.” I supplied softly.

“Not from here.” He stated matter of factly, pointing his finger at me.

“Not true. I was born here, in the city.” I explained.

“Really?” Mono crept a little closer to me, leaning in with interest.

“Yeah, I was rescued when I was about eleven years old,” I smiled, putting the cloth I was using on Six down, “in fact, I work for the people who rescued me now, that’s why I’m here.”

“Rescued?” His head tilted to the side in question.

“Yeah, some really nice people helped me and some other kids get out of the city, they helped to keep me alive. They get kids away from the city and help find them nice homes to go to, where they’ll always be safe.” Mono looked away, focusing on the wall as he pulled back from me. Letting go of Six’s hand and picking at his fingers nervously, “Mono, were you and Six going somewhere before you stopped here?”

His demeanour dampened very suddenly, soured in the way it did with kids back home when they did something they knew they shouldn’t.

“The Maw.” He murmured, my eyes grew wide and I leaned forward slightly.

“The Maw?! Do you have any idea how dangerous-”

“I do!” He burst, looking back at me. “Some risks are worth taking.”

The full statement rattled me, it wasn’t often that kids from the city could speak in full sentences. Most opted for broken phrasing or their own forms of sign-language.

“Why on earth would that be a risk worth taking?” I knew the answer, it was always the same but a small part of me hoped that I’d meet a kid who genuinely didn’t realise the danger of The Maw, that they were just a kid making a decision unsupervised. Something about the promise of an endless supply of food drew in children just as well as it did Adults.

“Something bad happened to Six, and now she gets hungry and angry. She’s hurting so much, I thought-” he cut himself off, taking a deep breath, “I thought if we could get to The Maw she’d never run out of food, so she’d never have to hurt again. But then she got sick, so we’re not going to make it.” He spit, his anger and disappointment was apparent.

I placed my hand on his back and immediately realised my mistake as he flinched, I pulled back slowly so as to not further frighten him, watching as he scooted away from me slightly, putting space between us and crossing his arms, closing me off. Despite not being able to see his face I could tell he was at war with himself, the committee could help these kids, I just had to convince them to come with us.

Which would be easier said than done.

Pale City kids were notoriously hard to recondition, many of the ones we rescued were sent off to more intense programmes where they could be better cared for. That wasn’t important now though, it would be wrong to leave them here, not when I knew I could get them help.

“You don’t need to go to The Maw, those people I work for? They can help you.” Mono ignored my offer, asking a question in the most sobering, haunting tone I’d ever heard a child take.

“She’s dying, isn’t she?” there was a wobble in his voice as he spoke.

I looked down at Six again, sweeping her hair back, the fever wasn’t worsening but it was too early for it to be getting better.

“It’s too early to tell but she’s really not well.” I said quietly.

“How do I know I can trust you?” He demanded aggressively, pulling his legs up under his crossed arms and leaning on them, chin pressed against his forearms.

“You don’t, but I’ve only tried to help so far, and I only plan to help going forward. So, it’s up to you if you think that’s worth betting on.”

Mono looked up at me, the eye holes of his mask staring through me, he tilted his head like a confused puppy, considering me carefully, before looking away and resting his chin back on his folded arms.

“If you wanted to kill us, you would’ve done it already,” he mumbled to himself, his gaze lingering on where I’d left my shotgun, “Six needs help, do you really think you can get her that help?”

“I know that I can, but I can’t promise the help we have will work.”

“But you promise that you can try?”

“Yes, and I will be with the both of you the whole time, if that makes you feel more comfortable.”

He scooted forward a little closer, still choosing to keep his distance from me. “I think I’d like that, I’ll do anything to help Six.”

“I’m sure she’ll really appreciate that.” I whispered, offering my hand out to him.

He raised his hand then stopped, coiling his fingers as he hesitated. I waited patiently on his decision, watching with a smile as he shyly placed his hand in mine, squeezing my upturned palm gently once.

I sat with Mono and Six until the early hours of the morning, sleep did eventually come for me despite my effort to stay awake but it was short lived as hazy morning light started to pour in through the window and directly onto my face.

Mono had been up and down all night, sleeping in tiny bursts, walking around the apartment and then settling down to sleep again cyclically. I could hear him moving something around in the kitchen, mumbling to himself.

I stretched my arms over my head, looking down at Six still curled up between my legs, she’d cooled down considerably but was still sleeping fitfully. I needed to check her over again and then check my own injury but doing that meant moving and as uncomfortable as leaning flat against a wall was, I was very cosy.

Holding Six’s head and neck up, I manoeuvred her off of my good leg. She didn’t so much as stir, not a good sign. When she was curled back under her makeshift blanket I checked her temperature again, a little warmer than it should be but not as bad as it was last night, she’d need another dose of medicine soon.

I crept up, biting down on my tongue when my cut skin exploded to life, burning uncomfortably. I got to work, changing the soiled bandages and gauze and taking more painkillers. With my leg looking better, I went into the kitchen to find Mono rooting around in one of the kitchen drawers.

“And what are you doing?”

Mono jumped, not expecting me to speak, paper bag turning to look up at me.

“‘Dunno,” he mumbled, “I’m not used to staying in one place for so long I guess,”

“Restlessness,” I said knowingly, crouching down next to him, “that’s very normal.”

“If you say so,” he shrugged, shutting the drawer.

We both went silent, not having much else to talk about. Mono stood across from me awkwardly, rubbing his foot against his ankle.

“You hungry?” I grinned at the sudden change in attitude, Mono bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Yes, yes!”

“C’mon then.”

He followed me back into the living area, trying to get a look into my bag as I rummaged for the travel food I’d packed. I offered him one of the cereal bars and he all but snatched it out of my hands, I’d need to figure out how to get Six fed, she was still out of it and probably wouldn’t have enough energy to chew.

While I was preoccupied with my thoughts there was a tug on the back of my jacket, I turned to Mono who was holding out half of the cereal bar, my heart warmed but I shook my head.

“You have it, there’s plenty in here and you need it more than I do.”

He seemed adamant however, shaking it at me in a gesture to take it, I wondered if he wanted to double check that it wasn’t poisoned or maybe he just wasn’t able to eat that much. I took it from his hand with a smile, sitting with my bad leg out and taking a bite. That seemed to placate him and before I knew it he was mirroring me, sitting with his legs out and snacking away.

“What is this stuff?” He asked,

“Do you not like it?”

“I do! I guess it’s just different from what I’m used to, I don’t recognise the taste.”

“It’s a cereal bar, it’s made of cereal, which is like oats and wheat that’s been mixed together and cooked, and syrup which is this sticky, sweet liquid that you can use in lots of things. The sweetness in the syrup is probably the taste you don’t recognise.”

“I really like it!” He giggled, the sugary treat disappearing under his mask.

I didn’t bother asking what it was the two children were used to, it likely hadn’t changed since I’d been in their shoes all those years ago. We ate in silence for a while before my curiosity got the better of me. I was so interested in how these two had become saddled to one another.

“So how do you and Six know each other? You said you’re friends right?” I asked, Mono sat for a moment, cereal bar disappearing under his mask again before speaking with his mouth full.

“We met in this cabin-”

“Finish what’s in your mouth first, I don’t want you to choke.”

It was hard to tell exactly what face he was making under his paper bag when he took those long, pregnant pauses. He stared me down, completely unmoving and then loosening up to continue his answer.

“We met in this cabin in the woods, it smelled really gross and I was looking for food but there wasn’t anything that looked safe to eat, so I was walking through the hallway and I could hear this music coming from the basement.”

I nodded along, taking a bite of my food.

“When I got down there I couldn’t see anyone, but the music was coming from behind a locked door. Six was inside so I thought ‘I gotta break her out!’ But really that was a bad idea ‘cause she wasn’t alone in the house and-”

“What do you mean?” I furrowed my brow.

“There was this mean old guy with a sack over his head living there! Six called him The Hunter.” Mono explained. So some horrible brute had scooped Six up and was keeping her captive? How charming. “He had one of those sticks, like your one.”

“A shotgun?” I clarified. “Did he shoot at you?”

Mono nodded quickly, I felt sick, how much of The Transmission’s horror had touched these kids, the things they must’ve done to stay alive made my blood boil. They were the ones who truly suffered at the hands of The Signal Tower, abandoned and left to fend for themselves.

I sat in shock horror as Mono continued to explain he and Six’s daring escape from The Hunter’s Wilderness. They’d weaved through long grass and crawled through empty fox dens, Mono had taken a rain hat from the corpse of a child in a cage and didn’t seem even slightly phased by it.

They treaded murky water in a bog, only to be backed into a shed on the wilderness’s edge, “Six had locked the door and she was trying to hold it and we were looking around for something and there was a… gun?” I nodded at his inquiring tone, shuddering at the implication, I knew where this was going. “There was a gun on the wall, so I pulled it down and Six and I were holding it up at the door…”

He trailed off, pulling his legs in and up against his chest, food long forgotten in his hand. I wanted to shuffle closer, do what I could to comfort him but I didn’t want to spook him, I had to remember I was still a stranger.

“Mono, did you shoot the gun?”

He nodded and I sucked in a breath. It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fucking right, no kid should have to face the guilt that came with killing someone just to keep themselves alive.

And sure, The Pale Citizens are hardly people anymore but it doesn’t change the fact that they had been once, Mono and Six had been born into this world long after The Transmission had started so I couldn’t be sure they understood that Adults hadn’t always been this way, but I hoped that they did.

“The things you’ve had to do to survive, they aren’t your fault, you know that right?” I asked, Mono shrugged noncommittally.

“I guess so.”

Six stirred quietly across from us but didn’t wake up, Mono moved so he could sit with her and started to gently stroke her hair. We sat in comfortable silence for a while, Mono content to keep an eye on Six while I kept watch on the courtyard.

I watched the bleak weather move outside, light being streaked across the concrete as the cloud cover moved. The quiet started to creep up on the three of us again, I watched as Mono curled down next to Six and found myself starting to nod off too.

Then I heard voices, a group of them, hushed and frantic as they came closer. I shook myself awake, making the struggle to stand and move toward the door to pick up my shotgun. The commotion I was making woke Mono up from his nap, tiny fist disappearing under his mask to supposedly rub at his eyes as he yawned.

He pulled himself up to sit when he noticed that I was holding my gun.

“What’s going on?” Mono asked with an edge of rising panic, head frantically swivelling as he looked around the room for options to hide, his hand clasped tightly to Six’s singlet.

“I don’t know, stay with her,” I whispered back, “whatever is on the other side of this door I will deal with, I need you to do exactly as I say, do you understand?”

He nodded, the hand that wasn’t bunched in Six’s top was shaking in terror.

“Get yourself ready to move.”

I cracked the door open, the muzzle of the gun stuck in the gap and prepared to put myself between these kids and whatever was in the courtyard and then I heard a whistle.

A loud piercing whistle that made me want to cry with relief, I opened the door fully and the group of people surrounding The Viewers corpse turned to me.

“Halle?” I called out in disbelief.

“Madeleine!” Halle yelled, I shushed him hoping there was nothing else here but us as he rushed over to me. He took my face in his calloused hands, turning me back and forth as he checked me over. “What happened to your leg?”

“I cut it on some rebar by mistake, I’m perfectly fine.” I wrapped my hands around Halle’s wrists, I don’t think I’d ever been so relieved to see the old man.

“Why are you out here on your own?” The worried lilt in his voice dropped as his face warped with confusion, there was now a barely concealed fury burning in his eyes.

I was no longer relieved to see Halle.

“What do you mean?” I was unsure about what the problem was, he’d asked me out here why would he be upset with me?

“I mean, why are you out here on your own?” He repeated with more vigour, I started to reel with my own confusion.

“You-”

“Halle! We’re going down to the wharf,” Georgia called from her place across the courtyard, the group still crowding The Viewer I’d killed,

“I’ll be right with you Georgia,” He shouted back to her, then turned to me, “We are not done with this conversation.”

“Yeah clearly,” I muttered under my breath as he started to walk away, I grabbed his arm, “I found a couple of kids, I need Arthur to take a look at one of them.”

Halle stopped in his tracks, twisting back to face me with raised brows. “How bad?”

“If we leave her much longer she won’t survive, it’s a damn miracle she’s been able to hold out this long.”

There was that word again, miracle. If Six makes it, that's what she’ll be known as, and while I’m sure she’ll hate it, being a miracle is better than being dead.

I pulled Halle to the apartment door and peeked my head in, I smiled at Mono who visibly relaxed.

“Nothing to worry about, it’s just those nice rescue people I was telling you about.” I opened the door to let Halle see the two children, his expression steeled as he took them in.

“I’ll get Arthur,” Halle murmured, hand squeezing my shoulder.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” I assured Mono from the doorway as Halle walked away, “we’ll get you out of this mess.”

“Okay,” Mono whispered.

It didn’t take Arthur long to make his way over, boots scuffing the broken concrete with force, I pushed the door open wide for him and watched him scan the room, it wasn’t long before he got to work, getting down on his hands and knees to assess Six.

Mono wasn’t far off, watching the red-haired man like a hawk, that unsettling, paper bag stare making Arthur clear his throat and look at me expectantly.

“Mono, did you and Six come here with anything? Any bags or other clothes?” I asked, trying to ease the tension as I stepped back into the room.

“No, but-”

“How long has her breathing been like this?” Arthur cut in, voice stern. The sudden seriousness he had taken on made my stomach churn.

“Been like what?” I was struggling to keep my voice steady as I asked the question. My palms started to sweat as I turned away from Mono and took a knee next to Arthur.

“Shallow and thready,” he clarified, starting to bundle the girl up as I stammered through my answer.

“I-I’m not sure.”

“Okay, don’t panic but we need to go now, just the journey back might be too long if we don’t start moving.” Arthur kept his voice low and hushed, an obvious attempt to keep the boy behind him from panicking but as I caught a glimpse of Mono over his shoulder I knew there was no point.

Mono stood up, body coiled tight like a spring, set to sprint should someone say the word. He’d picked up Six’s raincoat from where Arthur had discarded it when he was checking the girl over, the yellow vinyl having been in the way.

The coat arm was scrunched tight in his hand, white knuckled with nervous force.

“What’s going on?” Mono fretted, paper bag turning to face me head on. “Maddie, where is he taking Six!?”

“He’s just-“

I cut myself off as Arthur swept Six up, holding her tight to his chest as he stood. Mono jumped to action, fingers digging into Arthur’s heavy duty jeans and pulling.

It didn’t phase Arthur, shaking the boy off and taking long strides to the door.

“No! Put her down, let her go!” Mono yelled as he tried futilely to pull Arthur down, I grabbed for the boy’s shoulder and pulled him back until he was standing still. With Mono distracted for just a moment Arthur took Six and left the apartment complex.

“Mono, Arthur is a doctor. He’s taking her back to the boat which will take us back to the mainland,”

“Liar!” Mono yelled, beating his fists against my thighs. “You’re just like the rest of them! You’ll take her and I’ll never see her again, you’ll leave me here!”

I grabbed his wrists, holding them still as he panicked.

“Arthur needs to take Six away from The Pale City to help her,” I soothed, “I’ll be with you the whole time and you will see Six again, I promise.”

“I don’t trust you!” He cried, tears dripping from his chin.

“Listen to me— Listen!” Mono snivelled, I pulled my sleeve down and wiped at his tear-stained chin. “If Six doesn’t get proper help, she will die. Do you understand?”

Mono crumpled to his knees, his hands still held tight in my grip, anguished sobs wracked his body, I pulled him into a hug which he pushed against before changing his mind and melting into. He balled my shirt up into his fists and tucked himself under my chin as best as he could with his mask still on.

It took a few moments to bring him down, I’d never known a Pale City kid to be so loud.

“I will be with you the whole time, I am not going to leave you here. I know this is a lot to deal with so quickly but will you let me help you like I said I would?” I pleaded quietly, we were on borrowed time now and as much as I was trying not to show it, deep down I was panicking too.

Mono continued to cry, entirely unresponsive as he pressed himself impossibly close to my chest. I gently pulled him back, my heart tugging as he shook with unbridled fear.

“Mono, I need an answer.” I lifted his head to meet my gaze, relieved when he nodded frantically. “Okay, give me that coat and let’s go.”

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#little nightmares #little nightmares happy au #LN Fairy's Happy AU #six little nightmares #mono little nightmares #tw: guns #tw: open wound #tw: injury #And So The Rain Stopped #ASTRS #little nightmares fanfic #no one told me that being sick all the time was so exhausting #I have seen a specialist though which is cool #and I have to see my GP in August which is less cool cause they'll just blame me for what's wrong like they have for the last year and half #it's a whole thing #n e ways enjoy the new chapter!!#🕯️ in the palm of my hand #jul 2023

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