#I don’t know what happens I just want everyone to be right like they want to be
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certifiablyinsanez · 13 hours ago
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I really hope that now, the people who have been under-appreciating the class and racial dynamics of the show and Blitz and Stolas’ relationship can now realize that Blitz had every right to have doubts and worries over Stolas’ character when it came to their gap.
Do you know what this episode reminds me of? Authoritarian, dictatorial rule. People have opinions of public execution in the real world. It’s something that actually happens. Even for peoples and societies that don’t currently commit to public executions more than likely have a past history of doing so. And the realities of this very real thing were made clear in this episode. Because Blitz, and even all of IMP, was going to die. And in the real world, you probably don’t have a royal lover to save you at the last second. It is a real tool used by cruel masters to keep people in line, to invoke terror and submission. We all saw their faces.
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A family of imps, children watching. The little girl closing her eyes sadly.
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His best friend and loved ones watching him get his head lopped off.
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Even his scorned ex who he viciously hurt is horrified by this.
Just because we knew Blitz was going to be saved, should in no way erase the seriousness of this event. This is something used to enforce submission, to instill fear. Satan mentions how he created imps to be obedient. This was meant to be a reminder to all the lowly people in hell that their place is in the dirt. Because Blitz is only moderately successful for his race. By the standards of higher classes he would still be seen as a low-rate wannabe business man running a seedy operation. His is not rich by any means. His business only produces enough to moderately support his family and his workers.
And he was about to be killed for it.
He was about to be executed because he was a little too uppity. Because he dared to be anything other than what was designated for his race. Let that sink in. Imagine if you were executed on international television just because you wanted a better career and life. This is the reality in Hell. And the unfairness of it all is so blatantly seen when Stolas is harshly punished but still allowed to live. Not only that, but it was put on public record that he’s silly to think he would be killed because “his life actually has worth”. That’s insane.
And I need everyone to apologize and write Viv and her team love letters because these dynamics EXIST IN REAL LIFE. They are real and have real consequences, and this is real for the POC that lives down the street from you. This is not something that happens in a backwards place 10,000 miles away. It’s in everyone’s backyard. This episode was beautifully written and I look forward to every new episode to come.
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misswynters · 1 day ago
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More than a Transaction
featuring. sevika x gn!reader
requested by anon
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The brothel wasn’t a place for love. It was a place for survival, a stage where affection was an act and intimacy a commodity. You’d grown used to it, the numb to the fleeting touches, the hollow words whispered in your ear. Love had never been in the cards for you, and you’d long since accepted it.
That was until she walked in. The first time you saw Sevika, she stood out from the usual clientele. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a presence that turned heads and silenced conversations. Her mechanical arm gleamed under the dim lights, and her dark eyes swept the room like she was looking for something, or maybe someone.
“I need a room,” she said, her voice gravelly and low, the kind that made you pause.
You raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask questions. You’d heard whispers about her before, Silco’s right hand, a woman to be feared. Yet as she followed you upstairs, her heavy boots echoing against the floorboards, she didn’t seem dangerous. Just… tired.
In the room, she sat on the edge of the bed, her movements slow and deliberate. She looked around, her gaze lingering on the peeling wallpaper and the flickering candle on the nightstand. “You don’t look like you belong here,” she said, breaking the silence.
You crossed your arms as your looked at her. “Neither do you.”
Her lips quirked into a smirk. “Fair enough.”
At the time, you thought she was just another patron. Someone passing through, here for a night of comfort before disappearing back into the shadows of Zaun. But Sevika wasn’t like the others. The first few visits were business. Silco had sent her to gather information, and the brothel was the perfect place for secrets to spill. She came to you because you were good at what you did: disarming people with a smile, coaxing out truths without them realizing.
“What’s he like?” you asked one evening, lounging on the bed as she nursed a glass of whiskey.
“Who?” she asked.
“Silco. Your boss.” you said plainly.
Sevika leaned back, her smirk fading into something thoughtful. “He’s… complicated. But he knows what he wants, and he doesn’t stop until he gets it.”
“God, sounds exhausting,” you said with a wry smile.
She chuckled, the sound low and rough. “It is.”
You didn’t press further, and she didn’t offer more. But as the weeks passed, her visits became less about Silco and more about you.
One evening, Sevika arrived looking worse for wear. Her knuckles were split, her lip bruised, and a storm cloud seemed to hang over her head.
“What happened to you?” you asked, grabbing a damp cloth to clean her wounds.
“Work,” she muttered, wincing as you dabbed at her lip.
“You’re going to get yourself killed one of these days,” you said, your tone sharper than you intended.
She smirked despite the pain. “What, worried about me or something?”
You didn’t answer, focusing instead on her hand, where fresh blood was crusted over her skin. Her gaze lingered on you as you worked, softer than usual.
“You’re different,” she said after a long pause.
You glanced up. “Different how?”
“From the others. You don’t… fake it the same way.”
You laughed bitterly. “I fake it just like everyone else.”
She shook her head. “Not with me.” Her words hung in the air, heavy and confusing. You didn’t know how to respond, so you didn’t. The silence even though had some tension lingering was comforting.
Over time, Sevika became a fixture in your life. She brought small gifts when she visited. A book she thought you’d like, a bottle of wine she’d picked up on the way, a scarf when the weather turned cold. “You’re spoiling me,” you teased one night as you unwrapped a delicate silver bracelet she’d brought.
“Maybe I like spoiling you,” she replied, her smirk softening into something almost shy.
You’d never had someone treat you like this before. For so long, you’d told yourself you didn’t need love, that it wasn’t meant for people like you. But Sevika made you question that.
One evening, she arrived in an even darker mood than usual. Her fists were clenched, her jaw tight, and the tension radiated off her like a storm.
“Rough night?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light. She didn’t answer right away, pacing the room like a caged animal. Finally, she stopped, her eyes meeting yours.
“Why do you do this?” she asked abruptly.
“Do what?” you asked with a slight concerned look on your face.
“This,” she said, gesturing around the room. “This life. You’re better than this place.” Her words stung more than they should have. “And what should I be doing instead?” you snapped. “Changing the world? Leading a revolution?”
“You could,” she said simply.
You stared at her, caught off guard. She wasn’t mocking you as you thought a second ago, she meant it.
“Why do you care?” you asked, your voice quieter now.
She stepped closer, her rough hand brushing against yours. “Because you’re worth more than this. You just don’t see it yet.”
That night, something shifted between you. Sevika stopped pretending her visits were for Silco and started coming just for you. She stayed longer, lingering even after the candles burned low. You talked for hours, about everything and nothing.
“What do you want out of life?” she asked one night, her voice softer than usual.
“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I’ve never thought about it.”
“Well, think about it,” she said, leaning back against the bed with a rare, relaxed air. “You deserve more than this.”
Her words stayed with you long after she left. The brothel wasn’t a place for love, but somehow, Sevika had found you there. She wasn’t perfect, far from it. She was rough around the edges, guarded and prone to anger. But with you, she was different. Softer. And for the first time in your life, you felt truly seen.
“Stay with me,” you whispered one night as she pulled on her jacket to leave.
She paused, her hand hovering over the door handle. “I can’t promise you a happy ending,” she said, her voice heavy with regret.
“I don’t need to be happy,” you replied. “I just want you.” Sevika turned, her dark eyes searching yours. Finally, she closed the distance between you, her calloused hand cupping your cheek.
“You’ve got me,” she said softly, her lips brushing against yours. “For as long as you’ll have me.” And for the first time, the brothel didn’t feel like a place of survival. It felt like home.
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sapphiresaphics · 3 days ago
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I don’t know how people keep coming up with the worst takes on things, but here we are.
You wanna be logical about this? Okay fine.
Jinx locked her in the cell. She can’t get out. Even if she thinks she’s going to commit suicide, there’s nothing she can do about it. She’s locked in the cell. We don’t know how long it is before Caitlyn shows up. Could’ve been hours. There’s a war about to happen. No amount of hunting for Jinx is going to stop that. She doesn’t know where Jinx’s hideout is anyway. The chances of her FINDING her sister is slim to none now. Also, this is a prison. There are guards everywhere. Even if Jinx tries to leave, she’s likely going to get caught again and just thrown back into another cell. And even if she escapes, the possibilities are extremely low Vi will ever be able to find her and… need I remind you… a war is on the way. She’s got maybe a few hours at best before it gets here and kills everyone. She’s betrayed Caitlyn’s trust and lost her sister and she’s stuck in the cell. There’s nothing left for her.
So when Caitlyn comes in and tells her she expected to find her there and informs her that no, actually, she let her sister go and didn’t try to kill her or lock her back up and is letting go of the anger Jinx has had on her mind and that it’s okay that she tried to free her sister, Vi snaps. Because in that moment the ONLY person she has left is Caitlyn. And Caitlyn, the woman who’s been trying to kill her sister and broke up with her because Vi wouldn’t kill her sister, just informed her that she’s letting her sister go free. Which at the end of the day is all Vi really wanted.
And frankly I don’t think Vi really understands how devastated Jinx is. She comes in begging her sister to join up and fight and using her explosive potential to help out in the upcoming battle. She’s thinking of how this fight is going to get hundreds of people killed and she’s trying to build her sister up. From her point of view Jinx just needs a hug and to be told she’s special, because no matter how hard vi tries she’s always going to see Jinx as Powder. And while she has good intentions, this is NOT what Jinx needs to hear right now. Jinx is grieving and Vi is begging her to blow more shit up.
I am SO FUCKING DONE with people like you going “oh logically why wouldn’t she be trying to stop her sister from committing suicide? Why would she just fuck in a cell?! It’s such awkward timing! What bad writing!” Because you guys never stop and think about the character’s motivations.
YOU know jinx is suicidal. YOU know she is not doing well. But Vi doesn’t. Vi is blinded by Powder. She still doesn’t see Jinx or understand what Jinx has gone through. The idea that her sister is suicidal doesn’t even cross her mind. That fight in the tomb? Just her being crazy again. Jinx being theatrical again. Nothing new.
Fucking hell… that’s WHY Jinx locks her in the cell. Because even after everything they’ve gone through, she still sees her as powder. The “you’re never going to give up on me are you?” line is Jinx realizing that Vi will never truly see her as Jinx. That’s WHY she locks Vi in the cell. Because Jinx needs to leave this endless cycle and let Vi be able to move on. That’s why she tells her she doesn’t need to worry about her anymore or feel guilty and that she deserves to be happy with Caitlyn.
So yeah, they fuck in the cell because in that moment, Vi has lost everything. She doesn’t know if Jinx is alive or dead, she doesn’t know if she can find her before the war hits and potentially kills everyone and herself, and she’s gone behind Caitlyn’s back to release Jinx. She’s at her lowest point, with no time to do anything productive, and the girl of her dreams just informed her that it’s okay she betrayed her because she’s so god damn predictable and that’s something she loves about Vi, and that she’s letting her hatred of Jinx go. This is Caitlyn confirming to Vi that is was okay for her to love her sister that much. The one thing Vi has been repeatedly told by everyone around her she can’t do.
So this is VI’s emotions EXPLODING at the thought she still has one thing good left in her life. And she is going to take it NOW because this tension has been building and building for such a long time it NEEDS RELEASE. In that moment there’s no logic. No thought to the real world or what could be. It is pure emotional INSTINCT. Caitlyn has offered herself up on a silver platter and she is going to EAT.
The amount of effort you guys put into trying to misunderstand the characters, the scenes, and the intention behind the dialogue is ASTOUNDING. You should be awarded a medal for being so mind numbingly REDUCTIVE in your “criticisms.”
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saw these comments on an edit on tt and they really made me stop and rethink for a second, especially the second comment ...
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demonic0angel · 1 day ago
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Things that happened at Thanksgiving today, but I make it DPxDC
Damian: … Richard? What are you doing?
Dick: *standing on the lawn and staring into the distance* I’ve been watching Danny try and struggle to park for the past fifteen minutes.
Damian: Oh. *also stops to watch* Have you seen Danielle and Jasmine come in?
Dick: Tbh, no. I’ve been watching Danny this entire time. And oh— oh! He stopped. Ooh, he turned around. He’s leaving. Damn, he gave up entirely and decided to park on the grass. Oh, he ran over Alfred’s bushes.
Damian:
Dick:
Damian: He won’t make it past the gates without Alfred sniping him.
Dick: Damn, you’re right.
————
Damian: *after Jason did something* what do you think you’re doing, Todd?
Jason: Lol, your mom
Damian: Actually, my mom only used you for her own goals. In fact, your mom abandoned you. Twice.
Jason:
Dick: Now, Damian, that’s not—
Damian: People who have had their mothers die in front of them should not speak.
Dick:
Damian: *pointing at Tim* And you! You may have had two parents at one point, but they definitely don’t consider you as their child! That’s why you had to stay with your neighbors so long! You’re an inconvenience!
Tim:
Stephanie: Hey now—
Damian: I don’t even want to hear you. Does your mother know you go out and fight crime? Does she even care?
Stephanie:
Damian: *looking at Cass* You too, Cassandra! But mommy issues wouldn’t be the least of your problems with your daddy issues as well!
Cass:
Damian: *turning around to Danny* And I didn’t forget about you, Fenton! No wonder you fit right in, your abandonment issues, raging teenage angst, and appearance makes you just at home, doesn’t it?!
Danny:
Tim: …. What about Jazz?
Jazz: *who’s been silent the entire time*
Damian:
Jazz:
Everybody else:
Damian: No, she’s a guest here. Why would I do that?
————
Dani: Pfft— Tim, Tim, can I— *can’t breathe from laughing too hard* can I touch your hair? It just looks so soft! *still laughing*
Tim: …?
Jazz and Danny: *also laughing their guts out*
Dani: *tries to reach for Tim but she keeps laughing and can’t focus on asking him* Your hair looks so soft— keheheh! C-Can I touch it??
Dani: *eventually swipes her finger under Tim’s nose and falls off of her chair from cackling so loud*
Tim: …..
Jason: *also bursting out in laughter* YOUR FACE!! BWAHAHAHAH
*Dani then proceeded to do this four more separate times with other people*
————
Dick: You know how Harley is back together with the Joker?
Dan: Yeah?
Dick: He cheated on Harley again.
Danny: *whirling around, flabbergasted* HUH?!
————
Dick: *carrying several bottles* Alright! Time for alcohol!
Jazz: Uhhh, Dick? Damian is right there—
Dick: He’s getting drunk tonight too!!
Everyone: ????
Damian: Yes! Alcoholism! *takes a plastic cup and takes a big gulp*
Dan: *looking at the bottle* This says sparkling apple cider?
Dick: Shhhh, just watch the show.
————
*dramatic screaming from other room*
Bruce: ….? What’s that?
Dick: Is that Jason? He sounds like he’s in pain
Bruce: *standing up* is he okay? Does he need help? Should I go and help him?! What’s happening—
Tim: Jason is playing ping pong with Dan and Danny. And losing really badly while Jazz is watching.
Bruce:
Dick:
Tim:
Bruce: oh.
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marauder-misprint · 1 day ago
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Eek I’m the one that asked about requests, so excited you’re taking them!
My idea was fem!reader x whichever marauder you want (not Pete sorry not sorry) where the reader is flirty but not in a hitting on everyone and pickup lines type of way. It’s in a she’s very friendly, likes to give out compliments just cause she wanted to, and is just warm and open to people type of way.
Ngl im a sucker for some angst with a happy ending so if that somehow works with whatever idea you come up with that would be cool but no pressure!
I hope this sounds like something you’d wnjiy writing but again no pressure at all<3
I hope this has that kind of vibe you were going for! Thank you for being my first request - I'm very excited and very nervous for this. ♡
Sunshine Incarnate
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
1.8k words
cw: fluff, angst
“God, she’s such a fucking tease,” Sirius sighs, leaning back in a plush armchair in the library.
“Who is?” Remus asks, not looking up from his book.
“Her,” he answers, gesturing toward you. “Little Miss Sunshine herself.”
Remus’ gaze shoots up, first looking at Sirius and then at you. You were talking with some Ravenclaw boy, absorbed in the conversation and oblivious to the rest of the library.
“A tease?” Remus asks.
Sirius hums. “Whenever you talk to her, she gives you these eyes. Then she’ll give you some flirty comment and walk away. Fucking. Tease.”
“Don’t talk about her that way,” Remus growls, still not looking away from you.
“Remus, you’ve experienced what he’s talking about though, right?” Peter asks. “She sits next to you in Herbology.”
Remus has experienced the eyes that Sirius is describing. When you talked to someone, they had your entire attention. You were fully engaged. He’d also been on the receiving end of your compliments before as well; he replayed them in his head when he was feeling low. But Remus would be an idiot to ignore that you did this with everyone. 
“Oh my god, I love your hair like that!”
“That’s brilliant! You’re a genius.” 
“I haven’t read that book before. Is it any good?” “Yeah, It’s my favorite.” “Yeah? Tell me about it.”
It’s who you are. As Sirius had called you, you are Little Miss Sunshine. You brightened every room you entered and made everyone feel important. Remus didn’t think there was a single person in all of Hogwarts who didn’t like you. How could they? 
“Remus?” Peter repeats, tossing a crumpled piece of parchment at him.
“Huh? What?”
“Wormy asked you about Sunshine’s eyes and you zoned,” James says. He’s busy working on an essay that the rest of the group had already finished. 
“Of course. Yes. Although I think it’s called active listening,” Remus says, sounding more irritated than he intended. “Something you could work on,” he adds on in a grumble. 
“My ears work just fine, thank you very much,” Sirius says. 
Then his face lights up and he waves at you. You had briefly turned away from the Ravenclaw boy and Sirius’ wave caught your eye. You wave back, excuse yourself and make your way to the Gryffindors. 
“Hi!” you say cheerfully. “Remus, that sweater looks really soft.”
His face flushed at your words. He could barely mutter out a thanks. 
“What’re you working on?” you ask, standing next to Remus. You’re looking at the pages of the book he’s reading, hoping to see a title at the top of the pages but there’s nothing to go off of, not even a diagram to say if it was a Herbology or Charms book. 
“That damned Potions essay,” James answers. 
“Good thing you’re not too shabby in that class then,” you say with a smile. “Can’t be too difficult.”
James looks up from his essay to return your smile. “It’s not. Just annoying to do.”
“Annoying to do is my Divination dream journal!” you reply with a giggle. “Like I need a teacher knowing what happens in my subconscious.”
“I’d like to know what happens in your subconscious,” Sirius says, now leaning forward. 
You give him an eye roll. “Become a Divination tutor and maybe. Remus, did you do that Herbology worksheet yet?”
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Yesterday.” 
“Shoot, I was hoping we could work on it together. You’re so much better at Herbology than I am.”
“Oh, it’s not too difficult,” he says, briefly looking up from his book to give you a smile.
You’re already looking at him with those eyes and a smile. Butterflies take flight in his stomach. He has to look away quickly, despite not wanting to. 
“Okay,” you say, bouncing on your toes. “I’ll see you later.”
As you walk away, Peter hits Remus with a roll of parchment.
“Are you daft?” he whispers, unsure if you’re out of earshot yet. “She was flirting with you.”
He shakes his head. “No, she wasn’t.”
“She wanted to work on Herbology homework with you.”
“Because we share the class? And I’m smart?”
“You’re daft,” James confirms.
The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Remus is replaying the conversation. Had you been flirting with him? Actually flirting or being your kind self? Even if you were flirting with him, you’d certainly stop as soon as you found out that he was a werewolf. Sunshine incarnate could not be with someone who turns with the moon. He was Moony for goodness sake. But she had complimented both his sweater and Herbology skills in one conversation with only James also receiving a compliment. How had he earned two compliments over Sirius? With all of your kindness and Sirius’ natural charisma, you two usually bantered like an entertaining yet sickening tennis match. 
“You know, the things I would do to her if she said the word,” Sirius says, bringing Remus out of his thoughts. 
“Still on about Sunshine, are you?” James asks.
“Still on about Evans?” Sirius retorts.
“Would it kill you to shut up and stay away from her?” Remus snaps.
Sirius and James shoot him a confused look. He had been mostly quiet since leaving the library, but it was Remus. He just did that sometimes. 
“Stay away from her?” Sirius repeats. “From Madam Sunshine herself? Why would I do that?”
“She’s the sweetest,” James adds with a smirk. 
“Yeah, I know,” Remus grumbles. “She doesn’t need you assholes to bring her down.”
“I’m not bringing her down,” James says defensively.
“Just leave her out of your… fantasies.”
“Why?” Sirius presses.
“Just, it’s… it’s you,” Remus says, gesturing wildly. 
“Yeah, and?” Sirius asks, leaning forward toward Remus with narrowing eyes. 
“You’re messy.” Remus pauses. “We’re messy.”
“So we’re all staying away from her?” Peter asks. 
“I, uh, I guess so.” 
Remus couldn’t tell his three closest friends to stay away from her because they were messy and not include himself, possibly the messiest of the group. But, god, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to hold you and be held by you. He wanted to kiss your perfect smile that was ever present on your perfect lips. He wanted to be the reason your gorgeous eyes lit up. He wanted you to look for him in the room. He wanted you to be his sunshine. 
Sirius shares a knowing look with James and Peter that Remus misses. Though he had tried to be subtle, his friends know when Remus is down bad, and he is for you. 
---
In Remus’ presence, you’re no longer a topic of discussion. The boys successfully steer all conversations away from you. Remus doesn’t think anything of it, assuming they actually listened to him and are staying away from you and all your perfectness. 
That is, until you walk over and sit next to Remus at lunch. You set your books down gently and give the boys a smile.
“That’s our cue to leave. See you in Dark Arts, Moony,” Sirius says with a grin. James and Peter follow him away from the table, leaving you alone with him. 
“That was… weird,” Remus mumbles, watching them leave before turning his attention back to you. 
He tries to hide the confusion on his face, but you see it anyway.
“Did you not… did you not ask me to practice nonverbal spells with you?”
Remus stares at you blankly. “No?”
You pull out a piece of parchment and hand it to him.
“I got this at breakfast.”
It was a note, in Sirius’ handwriting no less, asking you to meet at lunch to practice spells. When he looks up from the note, you are biting your lip with a hopeful look on your face. 
“Even if it’s not from you, would you mind practicing? I’m rubbish at them and, well, you’re great at everything.” 
Remus feels his face heat at the compliment. 
“You’re not rubbish at them.”
“No, I really am! I try them all the time and they never work! I’ve tried to levitate notes to you in Transfiguration and the stupid notes never lift more than a centimeter off the desk!” you ramble.
“Notes… to me?” 
It’s your turn to blush. You had never successfully passed a note to him. The notes that never made it to him often had compliments on them; the most recent had been to ask him to Hogsmeade. But when you continuous failed to get them to him, you had taken that as a sign from the universe that it wasn’t meant to be, but you weren’t one to give up easily. Maybe you were misreading the signs and you needed to go to him for help. So when you received the note from fake Remus, you were over the moon. 
“Oh, yeah. Just little comments about lessons. Nothing too important,” you lie. 
“You were trying to give me notes…” Remus mutters, still in disbelief that you were writing notes to him in the first place, even if they were ‘little comments.’
“Yes?”
You’re not sure what gives you the boldness, but you dig through your bag again and pull out some of the notes. You’re not sure why you kept them, but you did. 
“Okay, little comments, yes. About the lessons, not really.”
You hold out one for him to take.
You mastered teacup to gerbil quickly. You’re amazing!
“That, uh, that should be the first one.”
His hands are shaking as he reads it over and over. 
“You kept them?”
You nod, a little unsure. He reaches out and takes the rest from your hands. You feel your blush grow as he reads each other. It’s only a slight comfort that his blush is also increasing with each note. 
He looks up at you with a curious expression that’s topped with hopeful eyes.
“You were going to ask me to Hogsmeade?”
You open your mouth to speak but words don’t come out. You nod.
“If the offer still stands, I’d, uh, I’d love you. I’d love to. Ahem. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”
You’re certain your face is as red as his. 
“This weekend then?”
“Yeah,” he breathes. 
You lean in and kiss his cheek, your own boldness surprising you yet again.
“We can, erm, work on nonverbals later. I’ll see you later, Remus.” 
He watches you leave the Great Hall in a hurry. His hand slowly comes up to touch the spot where you had kissed him. Maybe, just maybe, you had been flirting with him. 
---
“How did that go, Moony?”
“You are bastards. All of you.”
“How did it go?”
“She kissed me,” he says, still blushing furiously.
“I told you!” Sirius cheers. “I told you he was projecting.”
“Projecting?”
“Mate, you called us messy. I mean, yeah, we are, but it’s your tell.”
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mywhisperingwords · 3 days ago
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everyone wants him | fred g. weasley
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summary: everyone wants fred weasley, why would he want you? word count: 3.2k masterlist
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The Leaky Cauldron was alive with its usual chaos—laughter, clinking glasses, and the occasional misplaced spell fizzling out before causing any real harm.
You sat tucked into the corner of the pub, nursing a Butterbeer that had long since gone lukewarm. Alicia had dragged you out tonight, claiming you needed to “live a little.” You weren’t entirely convinced, but there was something about her enthusiasm that made saying no impossible.
And then there was Fred Weasley.
You’d noticed him the second he walked in, though you’d never admit it. His presence was magnetic in a way you couldn’t quite explain, drawing attention without even trying. He laughed too loud, flashed that mischievous grin too easily, and had the audacity to look good doing it.
He was surrounded, of course. Angelina was at his side, rolling her eyes at something he’d said, but not enough to hide her smile. A couple of other faces hovered nearby—girls who leaned in a little too close, their laughter a little too eager.
You forced yourself to look away, focusing instead on Alicia, who was recounting some outrageous story involving a Niffler and a stolen bracelet.
“And then—are you even listening?”
You blinked, startled, and Alicia followed your gaze across the room. She smirked. “Ah. Fred Weasley.”
You frowned. “What about him?”
“You were practically drooling.”
“I was not.”
She laughed, leaning back in her chair. “Don’t bother denying it. Everyone looks at him like that at least once. It’s infuriating, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“How bloody charming he is.”
You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue. Infuriating was a good word for it.
It wasn’t until later in the night, after the crowd had thinned and Alicia had gone off to dance with some guy you didn’t recognize, that Fred approached you.
“Mind if I sit?” he asked, already sliding into the chair across from you.
You glanced up, startled. “Uh, sure?”
His grin widened, and you felt an unwelcome flutter in your chest. “You’re Alicia’s friend, right? I’ve seen you around. I’m Fred.”
“I know who you are.”
“Do you?” He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. “Should I be flattered or concerned?”
You narrowed your eyes, refusing to rise to the bait. “Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether or not you’re about to use that ridiculous charm of yours to try and get in my pants.”
He laughed—a genuine, full-bodied sound that caught you off guard. “Merlin, you’re sharp, aren’t you? I like that.”
“I wasn’t trying to be likable.”
“Even better.”
You shook your head, unsure whether to be annoyed or amused. He was persistent, you’d give him that.
“So,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “Why are you here, all tucked away in the corner like some kind of mysterious enigma?”
“Mysterious enigma?”
“It’s the best I could come up with on short notice. Don’t judge me.”
This time, you couldn’t stop the small smile that crept onto your face. “I didn’t want to come tonight. Alicia dragged me here.”
“Well, remind me to thank her later,” he said, his tone light but his eyes unexpectedly serious.
You hesitated, caught off guard by the shift. For a moment, you wondered if there might be more to Fred Weasley than the charming facade.
But then someone called his name—a girl, predictably—and the moment passed.
Fred glanced over his shoulder, his grin returning as he waved her off. When he turned back to you, he seemed almost reluctant.
“Duty calls,” he said, rising from his chair. “But don’t be a stranger, yeah?”
“Why would I be anything else?”
His laughter followed him as he walked away, and you were left alone, staring at your now-empty glass and wondering what, exactly, had just happened.
&
Diagon Alley was unusually quiet for a Saturday afternoon. The crisp autumn air carried the faint scent of roasted chestnuts from a nearby cart, mingling with the earthy smell of parchment and ink that clung to the shopfront of Flourish and Blotts. You had come to pick up a new quill, your old one having finally succumbed to overuse during a particularly tedious set of reports.
As you stepped out of the shop, quill and a small stack of books tucked under your arm, you nearly collided with someone coming in the opposite direction.
“Careful there,” came the familiar voice, low and teasing.
Fred Weasley.
You took a step back, startled, and looked up to find him grinning down at you. His hair was windswept, cheeks slightly flushed from the cold, and he had the same effortless energy that seemed to follow him everywhere.
“Do you make a habit of running into people, or am I just lucky?” he asked.
“Only the particularly unfortunate,” you replied, stepping aside to let him pass.
“Unfortunate?” He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Here I thought you’d be thrilled to see me.”
You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t quite suppress the small smile tugging at your lips. “What are you doing here, anyway? Don’t tell me you’re in need of a good book.”
“I’ll have you know I’m an avid reader,” he said, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. “In fact, I was just about to pick up a—” He paused, glancing over your stack of books. “What’s this? ‘The Art of Brewing Potent Potions’? Didn’t take you for the potion-making type.”
You shifted the books slightly, suddenly self-conscious. “I’m not. It’s for a friend.”
“Ah,” he said, nodding solemnly. “A likely story.”
“Do you ever stop talking?”
“Not if I can help it.”
Despite yourself, you laughed—a small, involuntary sound that you quickly tried to stifle. Fred noticed, of course, and his grin softened into something warmer, more genuine.
“Well, I’d hate to keep you from your important potion-related business,” he said after a moment, stepping aside to let you pass.
“Important quill-related business, actually,” you corrected, holding up the bag in your hand.
“Ah, of course. How could I forget?”
You shook your head, already turning to leave, but his voice stopped you.
“Wait,” he said, his tone shifting slightly.
You turned back, surprised to see something uncertain flicker across his face. It was gone almost as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by his usual confidence, but it left you curious.
“Let me walk you back,” he said, gesturing down the street.
You hesitated, torn between instinctively brushing him off and the strange, unfamiliar pull you felt to say yes. In the end, the latter won out.
“Alright,” you said, falling into step beside him.
The walk back was filled with the kind of aimless chatter that felt oddly natural—Fred recounting some escapade involving a rogue charm and a very unhappy house-elf, you half-listening, half-watching the way his hands moved as he spoke.
When you finally reached your door, he paused, rocking back on his heels. “Well, this is me,” you said, nodding towards the entrance.
Fred nodded, his grin returning. “Good to know. I’ll keep this in mind for next time.”
“Next time?”
“Sure,” he said, already stepping away. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
And with that, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing in the doorway with a faint smile and a strange, fluttering feeling in your chest.
&
The weeks that followed your second encounter were marked by an unexpected rhythm.
Fred had a way of showing up—not at your door like expected, but in the spaces in between. He had a knack for making himself unavoidable, though never in an overbearing way. You’d catch him at the tea shop near your office, juggling two mugs precariously in his hands and grinning at you as if it were fate. Or in the park, where he’d be charming a group of kids with conjured fireworks, his laughter echoing over the treetops.
“I swear, you’re everywhere,” you said one afternoon when you bumped into him yet again outside Flourish and Blotts.
“Or maybe you’re just not very good at avoiding me,” he replied, his grin maddeningly confident.
Despite your best efforts, the barriers you’d carefully constructed began to shift, piece by piece. It started with the smallest of gestures—him carrying your books when your arms were full, sneaking you a bag of your favorite sweets when he somehow discovered your weakness for honey drops. The conversations, too, began to stretch beyond the surface, slipping into territory you weren’t entirely comfortable with but couldn’t resist exploring.
“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone,” Fred said one evening, his voice softer than usual.
You had both ended up in the same quiet corner of The Leaky Cauldron—pure coincidence, or so he claimed. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table, and for once, his usual smirk was nowhere to be found.
“Why would I do that?” you asked, deflecting with a raised eyebrow.
“Because I’d like to know,” he said simply.
You hesitated, your fingers brushing the rim of your mug. The question had an intimacy to it that made you feel vulnerable, and yet, there was something about the way he looked at you—like he could see straight through the walls you kept up.
“I’m scared of not being good enough,” you blurted before you could stop yourself.
Fred blinked, surprised by your honesty, but his expression quickly softened. “Good enough for what?”
“For anything. Everything,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”
“It’s not,” he said firmly, his gaze steady. “And for the record, I think you’re more than good enough.”
The moment lingered, delicate and raw, before you cleared your throat and changed the subject. Fred let you, but the look in his eyes stayed with you long after you’d said goodnight.
As time passed, your world seemed to orbit closer to his. He found reasons to seek you out, and you found yourself looking forward to his presence, even when you tried to convince yourself otherwise.
One evening, he brought you to his joke shop after hours, proudly showing you prototypes of new products. His enthusiasm was infectious, his face lighting up as he explained the intricacies of a new line of trick wands.
“Why do I feel like you’re trying to recruit me?” you teased as he handed you one to test.
“Because I am,” he said without hesitation. “You’d be great at it. You’ve got a good eye for details, and you don’t take my nonsense too seriously.”
“Someone has to keep you grounded.”
Fred grinned. “Exactly. That’s why you’re perfect for the job.”
You laughed, shaking your head, but something warm and unspoken passed between you.
It wasn’t long before people began to notice.
The first comment came from a colleague at work, offhand and seemingly harmless. “You and Fred Weasley seem awfully friendly,” they said, their tone laced with just enough curiosity to make you feel self-conscious.
The whispers followed soon after—barely audible at first but growing louder with each passing day. Fred’s reputation preceded him, and people were quick to remind you of it.
“Everyone knows he’s a flirt. Don’t get your hopes up.”
“He’s not exactly the relationship type.”
The words wormed their way into your mind, sowing seeds of doubt. You began to notice the way people looked at you when you were with him, their gazes heavy with judgment or pity.
Fred, oblivious to the change, continued to treat you the same—warm, attentive, and maddeningly Fred. But the whispers weighed on you, and before long, you found yourself pulling back.
The first time you ignored his owl, it felt like a betrayal. The second time, it felt like self-preservation. By the third, it had become a habit.
Fred noticed, of course, though he didn’t understand.
“Have I done something wrong?” he asked one day, cornering you outside the tea shop where he’d so often ‘accidentally’ run into you.
“No,” you lied, refusing to meet his eyes.
“You’re avoiding me.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
The hurt in his voice was almost too much to bear, but you held firm. The walls you’d rebuilt were sturdy now, bolstered by fear and the voices of those who’d warned you to stay away.
Fred watched you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before stepping back. “Alright,” he said quietly. “If that’s what you want.”
You told yourself it was. But as he walked away, the ache in your chest suggested otherwise.
The days after your confrontation with Fred dragged on, every hour stretching unbearably long. You told yourself you were doing the right thing, retreating before you got too close, before the inevitable heartbreak. But the certainty that had driven you to push him away began to waver in his absence.
You didn’t realize how much space Fred had occupied in your life until it was suddenly empty. The silence felt heavier now. Your tea breaks were lonely, lacking his easy laughter. Even the parks seemed duller without the sound of him enchanting children with his conjured fireworks.
Work became a refuge—a place where you could bury yourself in tasks and avoid thinking about him. But even there, his presence lingered. The bag of honey drops he’d given you sat unopened in your desk drawer. You’d thought about tossing it a dozen times, but your hand always hesitated, as though getting rid of it would make the loss of him too real.
It was during one of these long, quiet days that you overheard them.
“I heard she’s been seeing Fred Weasley,” someone said behind you in the tearoom.
Your stomach dropped, and you froze, pretending to stir sugar into your tea.
“She’s deluded if she thinks he’s serious about her,” another voice replied. “Fred Weasley doesn’t settle down. She’s just a bit of fun, like all the others.”
Their laughter echoed in your ears, sharp and grating. You forced yourself to walk out calmly, but their words stayed with you. By the time you got home, they’d grown into a roar in your mind, impossible to ignore.
He deserves better. Someone more exciting, more confident. Someone who isn’t scared of taking up space in his life.
The thoughts clawed at you as you sat at your desk, staring at the parchment in front of you.
You don’t belong in his world.
Your hand moved before you could stop it, the quill scratching out the words you thought would sever the tie cleanly. The letter was short, clinical, void of the emotions tearing through you.
“Fred, I think it’s best we go our separate ways. Thank you for everything. Take care.”
The owl flew off with it before you could change your mind, its silhouette disappearing into the night. The moment it was gone, the finality of it hit you like a curse.
You curled up in bed that night, the ache in your chest feeling like a physical weight. You told yourself it was for the best. But deep down, you started to think you’d made a mistake.
You waited for him to show up at your door, demanding answers in his usual larger-than-life way. But Fred didn’t come.
At first, you convinced yourself that his silence was proof that you were right—he wasn’t serious about you. But as the days turned into a week, the void he left behind became unbearable.
It was Alicia who finally forced you to confront it.
“You’ve been sulking for days,” she said, plopping down on your couch uninvited. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” you mumbled, not looking up from the book you weren’t actually reading.
Alicia snatched the book out of your hands, her sharp gaze piercing. “You don’t look like this over ‘nothing.’ Spill.”
You hesitated, but the words came spilling out anyway—the whispers, the letter, the crushing fear that you’d never be enough for someone like Fred.
When you finished, Alicia looked at you as though you’d just told her you planned to live on the moon.
“You’re an idiot,” she said bluntly.
“Thanks,” you muttered, burying your face in your hands.
“I’m serious,” Alicia said, her voice softening. “Fred isn’t like that. Not with you. Do you have any idea how he lights up when he talks about you?”
Your chest tightened at her words, but you shook your head. “He’s Fred Weasley. He lights up for everyone.”
“No,” she said firmly. “Not like this. Trust me, I’ve seen him flirt a hundred times. This isn’t flirting, love. He’s serious about you. And if you can’t see that, you’re going to regret it.”
Her words haunted you that night as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. By the time morning came, you knew you couldn’t leave things as they were.
The shop was quiet when you arrived, the familiar smell of wood polish and faint smoke lingering in the air. You knocked hesitantly, and Fred appeared in the doorway moments later, his expression unreadable.
“Hey,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Fred stepped aside without a word, letting you in. The silence between you was suffocating, the usually lively space feeling oddly hollow.
You fidgeted with the edge of your sleeve, searching for the right words. “I—”
Fred cut you off. “Why are you here?” His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made your chest tighten.
“I… I wanted to explain,” you said, your throat dry.
“Explain what?” he asked, his arms crossed. “Why you decided to shut me out without a real reason?”
The hurt in his voice cracked something inside you. “I was scared,” you admitted. “Of getting hurt. Of not being enough.”
Fred stared at you for a long moment, his expression softening as he stepped closer. “Why would you think that?”
“Because everyone says—”
“To hell with what everyone says,” Fred interrupted, his voice fierce. “I don’t care what they think. The only person whose opinion matters is yours.”
You swallowed hard, your voice trembling. “I didn’t know if you were serious. About me.”
Fred reached out, taking your hands in his. “I’m as serious as it gets,” he said quietly. “But I can’t make you believe that. You have to let yourself believe it.”
The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, and Fred gently pulled you into his arms. His embrace was warm, steady, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d needed.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered against his chest.
Fred pressed a kiss to your hair, his voice soft but certain. “You’re the only one I want.”
When you finally pulled back, his hands lingered on your face, his thumbs brushing away the last of your tears. The look in his eyes was so full of warmth and determination that you felt the last of your doubts dissolve.
When he kissed you, it wasn’t just a promise—it was a beginning.
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sweettoothy · 2 days ago
Text
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃
╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !
︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ⸝ violence ﹕ sex
︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn
NOTE: here we areeee, I was very excited to do this chapter since we can get into what kinda powers (name) has ^^ omg first kisses?!?!? I hope y’all don’t mind the change.
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⟣・S2・FINALLY GOT THE NAME RIGHT︰
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THE MAN IN FRONT of you sneezes, you handed him one of your extra masks and looked around with curiosity— you knew not to wander off far since caitlyn was focused on finding jinx. Though you knew exactly why she wanted to find her, she was starting to act a little different towards both you and vi— which was…understandable of her since her mother had died but it wasn’t a good change, though.
“Thanks.” The man tells you thankfully. “I thought I was a goner.”
“You’re smeech’s man.” Vi spoke.
“Was.” The man corrects. “I--“ he sneezes again, covering his mouth. “Oh. I decided it was time for me to retire.”
“Looks more like someone decided to retire you.” Caitlyn retorts.
The man chuckles. “Yeah, well, timing was never my strong--“ he sneezes again. “Sorry. Sorry, it’s…it’s the grey. It gives me the--“ he sneezes again.
Caitlyn stepped forward threateningly. “Tell us how you wound up here.” she demanded, aiming her gun at him.
“Hey, wait, wait.” Heenot pleads. “Jinx is off the rails, even for her. She’s got a real fire lit up under her ass. she’s planning something big, right here in the pipe works.”
You moved the gun away from the man carefully, eyeing caitlyn with slight surprise.
“It is a pretty big place down here to do that.” You added.
Heenot grunts. “She was headed towards the old tunnels. Something about rerouting the vents.”
Caitlyn moved her finger away from the trigger, her face upturned into a scowl. “this is it, then. Cuff him.”
“Hey! I told you everything I know.” Heenot protests.
“You’re a confessed criminal. You’ll spend your retirement in a cell.” Caitlyn tells him, cocking her gun and tilting her head. “Check your gear. This is what we’ve trained for.”
Vi sighs, slowly walking near caitlyn, “can I get a minute? with you?” she asks you.
Caitlyn slowly turns around, seeing you and vi standing there with unsure looks. Avoiding caitlyn’s gaze you nodded and followed vi.
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YOU SET YOUR WEAPON aside as you leaned against the railing inside the tunnel, tucking some of your (h/c) hair behind your ear as you gazed at a saddened but determined vi, her head lowered as she shifted her feet.
“We should cut the others loose.” Vi tells you, her eyes landing on yours as she sees you gasp quietly before speaking.
“Listen..if that heenot man is telling the truth, we may need all the help we can get, vi.” You whisper to her softly, only loud enough for her to hear.
Vi shakes her head. “She’ll smell their nerves a mile away and find a way to use them against us.” she informs you, “tell me I’m wrong.”
You were think about it, blinking a few times. maybe she was right— and she was. jinx probably wouldn’t hesitate to kill you, and as many times as vi told you to stay away from the blue haired girl it was like you would get caught in the crossfire every time.
“You know cait,” You spoke. “She won’t let jinx get away again without a doubt. she’s dead set on getting her. are you sure you’re even ready to--?”
Vi interrupts you. “(Name) she almost killed you. and it’s like everyone I care about either ends up dying or changing-- I can’t let that happen. my sister is gone. there’s only jinx now. It has to end.”
You knew this was hurting her, having to do this. but it was only now or later— because ending it all later would be too late.
Vi looks at your bandaged arm, “I am so sorry about your arm. I’m sorry I can’t fix it-- but please just…everyone in my life has changed. promise me you won’t change, you or caitlyn.”
Tears escape and cascade down her eyes as a gentle sob racked her throat.
Walking towards her you reached out your hand and cupped her cheek, going onto your tippy toes to kiss the tear away. Vi took a glance down at your lips before she began to lean in, you doing the same.
Vi fully leaned in and pressed her lips against yours, your lips molding against hers in a perfect melody. Vi then feels you pull away, your (e/c) eyes looking into hers again.
“I promise.” You whisper softly, nuzzling your nose against hers. “I won’t.”
Vi drops her gauntlets and suddenly her hands are wrapping around the small of your waist as she lifts you up into her arms with ease, her hands finding their way to your ass as she gives it a gentle squeeze, the kiss deepening from there as the two of you continued kissing.
This felt nice.
When vi pulls away, she sets you down. “Not bad for your first kiss, huh?”
“Hey! you did it first! I just finished it.” You winked before your watch started beeping, “huh…Jayce wants me to meet up with him. can you and cait do this alone?” you ask.
Vi nods in reply. “Yeah, yeah. I’d rather you be somewhere safe other than here.”
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HEADING INSIDE JAYCE’S office, you see a younger male sitting with him, making you tilt your head in curiosity, “this is ekko?” You asked with a warm smile. Ekko seemed unsure whether to trust you but the smile made him ease a bit.
“What’s the topic?” You asked while sitting down, crossing your leg over the other as you leaned your cheek against your palm.
“Hextech.” Jayce replies. “Viktor hypothesized that there may be something he called ‘wild runes’. patterns that occur naturally where the border between our world and the arcane is thin.”
“Runes like the ones you use in hextech.” Ekko replies, leaning his head against his hand. “What’s the difference between those and wild runes?”
“Pass me a tome.” Jayce tells him.
Ekko slides the book over to him.
“So I used words you understood in order to elicit your action.” Jayce explains. “This is what hextech runs are.”
“Pass me a tome.” Jayce tells you this time.
You grabbed the book and handed it to him.
“Pass me a tome.” He says once more.
You let out a frustrated sigh, throwing the book his way.
“There! you sighed. still a kind of language.” Jayce says. “A sound, but not words. something raw. natural. that’s wild runes. most places, the arcane is dormant, but here and there, it’s more active. and wild runes are--“
“Sort of like its fingerprints.” Ekko finishes.
“Exactly.” Jayce nods in agreement.
Your brows furrowed. “Wait wait-- you mean to tell me you-- by using so much of the hextech you’re basically pissing off the arcane?”
“That’s-- that’s not what I--“ Jayce stammered as he avoided your gaze.
“Ooh, she may be onto something. every action sparks a reaction.” Heimerdinger says, accidentally dropping something on the ground. “Oh, ball sockets.”
Ekko chuckles when he sees this.
“Do you think this could actually be a result of overuse of hextech?” Jayce asks you, maybe it was true…using way too much hextech always made you wonder what would happen.
“That’s the only reason.” You answer, leaning back in your seat as you pondered the idea of what could happen. “I mean..I don’t use it, but if I did I probably would overuse it and not even know. everything has its limits.”
“We tested our hextech under every conceivable condition for years.” Jayce says. “If there’s some reaction taking place, how come we’ve never seen any sign of it until now? and why would it appear on a tree, deep underground?”
You and Jayce share a look.
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“WHAT IS THIS PLACE?” YOU ASKED with curiosity as you sat down your bag, walking next to heimerdinger who looked around.
“I thought the gemstone mesh was installed above ground.” Ekko says.
“Me too..” you added with narrowed eyes.
“The mesh is above ground, but we weren’t sure what would happen if the gate overloaded, so we installed a failsafe at the base.” Jayce explains, you crossed your arms over your chest, still unsure about the whole thing.
“So instead of it exploding in your neighborhood, it would blow up in ours.” Ekko retorts.
Jayce turns to him. “We’re miles from the main fissures.”
“These are the same utility ducts that carry our water,” Ekko tells him. “And facilitate our ventilation. and that would explain it affecting the tree.”
“Inconceivable.” You hear heimerdinger say.
“That..that doesn’t explain--“ You paused, wondering if becoming an enforcer was really what you wanted in the first place.
“You know, you say we should feel like we’re all one people.” Ekko continues. “But whenever it rains, we’re the ones that get wet--“
His voice echoed as the scenery in the room changed to something completely different, you blinked a few times, eyes landing on what was in front of you.
“What the…” Jayce trails off confusedly, looking around himself.
The entire room was white, dull, like it was full of nothing.
“Is that..a wild rune?” Ekko questioned, your gazed landed on the wild rune in front of you.
“I have no idea what that is.” Jayce added.
All four of you stood in front of whatever the glowing ball was in front of you, you stepped back, eyes widening a bit. “No way.”
Weirdly enough the rune starts affecting your hair, the edge of the strands beginning to change colors. Jayce reaches forward begins to touch it.
“Ow!” You flinched away from the rune, whatever you just felt rush into your skin made it hurt a thousand times worse than your hair.
“Jayce, stop touching it!” You shouted at him.
But Jayce doesn’t hear you.
The world felt like it was spinning before you turned towards him, a chill runs down your spine as your bottom lip trembled. “Hello..?”
You felt yourself collapse, the air in your lungs beginning to fade. Jayce touches the rune, you clutched your head, starting to hear whispers from every side of you. “Stop, stop, stop!”
Whatever you were hearing didn’t want to stop, it’s like they enjoyed antagonizing you.
The world around you was starting to look different.
“Ekko! Jayce!” You shout again. “Anyone?!”
Silence.
Something blasts you in your chest, knocking you back as blood falls down your nose.
Then it fades to black.
END OF CHAPTER THREE
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bekolxeram · 3 days ago
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Everyone decides to be sad about Tommy spending the holidays alone today. I just want to say, I hate you all. Especially @mmso-notlikethat with this post. As payback for making me cry my way into insomnia, I wrote this on my phone instead of sleeping.
By the time he knocks on the door, Tommy still has no idea what to expect. “Wear something nice, we’re celebrating tonight,” that’s the only instruction he’s received from Evan, his boyfriend once again. Tommy can’t help but smile at the mere thought of finally allowing himself to say that name.
He has a burgundy dress shirt on with a pair of light grey slim fit pants. Simple, but elegant, hopefully properly dressed for this undisclosed commemoration. March is not known for its holidays, so what’s the occasion that calls for such festivity? They did meet last March at the cruise ship rescue, maybe that was it? Or perhaps Evan is having some sort of career advancement? They’ve been back together for just a few weeks, there’s simply not enough time for Tommy to catch up on Evan’s ever so eventful life. To that, Tommy silently mourn the time they’ve lost, due to his own cowardice.
“Hey — Hey,” Evan takes a step outside of the door to greet Tommy with a quick peck on the lips. Tommy lets the younger man drag him into the loft without much reaction, because he’s still confused by the sight in front of him: Evan in his usual navy blue button up, dark jeans and… a Christmas hat?
Inside the loft is a jumble of sparkly festive decorations. To his left, he sees “Happy Birthday Tommy”; to his right, “Merry Christmas”; and deeper into the living space, “Happy New Year”.
“Jee and Mara helped setting these up,” Evan says while taking half of a roast turkey out of the oven. “This one is from Bobby. He said half a bird is enough for the two of us, if we don’t want to suffer through leftover for the next 7 days.” He then sets the tray next to some roasted vegetables and a casserole. “The casserole is from Chimney, but I’m pretty sure it’s Maddie’s recipe. Hen got you a cake. I think she said something about being sure you would like it. We can have it for dessert. Oh, and the champagne is from…”
“Eddie, because he can’t cook.” Tommy cuts in.
“Exactly!”
“Evan, what’s going on here?”
Evan steps closer, taking both of Tommy’s hands into his own, “You told me the other day that you spent your 40th birthday alone… I only realized later that you were probably on your own for the entire holiday season, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year, Valentine’s Day. I know it doesn’t come close to the real thing, but I was thinking maybe we could make up for a few key moments that we missed.” He dims the lights in the loft with a remote control and fiddles with something on the dining table. Suddenly, the whole room is lit up with colorful patterns and twinkling stars. “I couldn’t get any firework around here, so I borrowed this star projector from Christopher.”
“Oh… Evan,” Tommy sighs, eyes already hazy with tears.
“I’m not asking you to move in with me or to make major commitments. I’m not asking for anything in return at all. This is… a promise, from me to you. No matter what happens, what becomes of us in the future, I’ll be there when you need me, we all will.”
Evan says earnestly, with utmost conviction in his tone. The clarity in his eyes reminds Tommy of that day at the café terrace, almost a year ago. “I just want you to know, Tommy, you’re no longer alone.”
A few drops of tears escape Tommy’s eyes, but before he can respond, Evan pulls out a mistletoe from his pocket and dangles it over their heads.
“You have to kiss me now.” Evan says with a cheeky grin. Tommy waits no time to capture those smiling lips with his own, kissing him with all the love and gratitude in his heart.
“I love you, Evan. I’m so lucky to have you.” Tommy pulls him into a warm embrace.
“I love you too.” Now it’s Evan’s turn to tear up.
Tommy pulls back a little and asks, “hey, would you mind if we celebrate Valentine’s Day first?”
“Oh, you mean you’re interested in the Valentine’s Night activity?”
“Depends on what you have in mind.”
“Come upstairs. I’ll show you.”
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hyperions-light · 14 hours ago
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I heard through the grapevine that people do not like Taash, which is bizarre to me, as I love Taash. So here’s a probably-expanding list of things to love about Taash!
1. They love animals so much!! The birds, guys! My heart melted <3
2. How kind and considerate they are to Karash, who needs someone to be gentle with him. They get that! They’re careful, and they warn both the Rivaini and their mother to be careful, too!
3. If you bring them to the Qunari in Treviso who is having a difficult time communicating, they will help them ;-;
4. How when they annotate the codex entries they always use footnotes ;-; because Shathann is an academic
5. How open-minded they are about stuff! They don’t automatically know everything, but they are always so willing to listen when someone explains things to them! They listen to Neve about Minrathous, even though it contradicts what they’ve been told; they listen to Davrin about working out, and Lucanis about the Crows.
6. How quick they are to admit their problems, listen, and apologize, if needed. It’s never frustrating to deal with Taash’s problems because as soon as you point out something’s wrong, they agree and are ready to handle it. It’s great!
7. It was really adorable when they tried to lie to Shathann about using their fire and they just… didn’t lol
8. They are sooooo sweet to their friends in the Lighthouse!! They always talk to everyone about whatever bad thing is happening, and they always offer to help fix it! I love that one dialogue where they insist to Bellara that her being upset about her brother is okay, and she should let the team help!! The way they express themselves is not always traditional, but it IS always considerate and well-meant!
9. Even though when Rook is recruiting them Shathann made the decision without their consent, Taash stops to reassure Rook that working with their team IS what Taash wanted. It’s really sweet <3
10. They are completely fine about Spite and treat Lucanis normally no matter what.
11. They love Shathann so much ;;;;;-;;;; I will write a whole post about it one day, but their relationship is soooo… it’s so real! I literally know people like this in real life, it’s written with so much attention to detail. And like even though they argue, and things can be difficult between them, Taash adores Shathann. There’s a reason almost every one of their outings involves her.
12. They are extremely knowledgeable in their areas of expertise! It’s fascinating to listen to them tell Lucanis how to lure out dragons, or Emmrich how to pick the right gems for his helmet. They are so confident !
13. The part where they yelled “the crows axe their regards” during battle almost made me die to the Antaam, I was laughing so hard
14. The fire-message they write themselves after the end of their arc thanks… Neve? I think ? For her help (will update this if I’m wrong)
15. They take everyone’s problems as seriously as they take their own. Even when other people miss it, they are the one to point out or affirm the importance of the emotional aspect of things (like during the Solas memories, when they call out that Solas regrets not speaking with Mythal again before she died)
Okay! More soon? Add, if you want!
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the-winter-spider · 2 days ago
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Invisible | Part 23
Bucky x reader AU
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: Tiny smidge of brief angst, but flufffff
A/N: Only a few more chapters to go..... 😭🫶🏻
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The warm scent of roasted vegetables and garlic filled Sam’s apartment as he moved around the kitchen, Wanda and Natasha chatting at the table. A few candles flickered on the counter, their soft light casting a cozy glow. The night had started lighthearted, with jokes and reminiscing about old times, but there was an underlying tension—Sam had been quieter than usual.
As the three of them sat down to eat, Sam finally cleared his throat, breaking the casual flow of conversation. “So, there’s something I need to tell you both.”
Wanda and Natasha exchanged curious glances, but Natasha was the first to speak. “What’s up?”
Sam sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been offered a big promotion at the VA. It’s… it’s a lot more responsibility, a lot more pay, and honestly, it’s kind of my dream job.”
“That’s amazing!” Wanda said, clapping her hands together. “Congratulations, Sammy! You deserve it.”
Natasha smiled, but her brow furrowed slightly. “That is amazing! Buuuuut, why do you look like someone just told you your dog died?”
Sam let out a nervous laugh, fiddling with the edge of his napkin. “Because there’s a catch. The job’s in Washington... I’ll be moving in a week and a half.”
The table fell silent. Wanda’s excitement dimmed slightly, her smile softening. “Oh, Sam… that’s… wow.”
Natasha leaned back in her chair, her lips pressing into a thin line. “That’s a big change.”
“It is,” Sam admitted. “But it’s the right move for me. And don’t get me wrong, I’m excited, but leaving all of you behind? That’s the hard part.”
Wanda reached across the table, placing a hand over his. “We’re happy for you, Sam. Really. We’ll miss you, but this is huge.”
Natasha nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ll miss you like crazy, but you’ve got to do what’s best for you, and we'll always be here you know that"
Sam smiled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Thanks, guys that really means a lot.”
Sam took a sip of his beer, his eyes darting between Wanda and Natasha as if he was working up the nerve to say something else.
“Who else knows?” Wanda asked cutting him off, taking a sip of her beer.
“Well, now that you both know, I should probably let you in on a little secret,” Sam said, his tone teasing but hesitant. “You two are actually the last ones to find out, don't hate me"
Natasha raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “The last ones?” she asked, her voice tinged with mock offense. “Wow, Sam. Save the best for last?”
Sam chuckled. “Exactly. Had to save the best for last, thats right!.... I told Bucky first—obviously…then Y/N, then Steve.”
Wanda leaned forward, smirking. “So, basically, you told everyone else first.”
“Listen,” Sam said, holding his hands up defensively. “I wanted to tell everyone together, but, uh, let’s just say there’s been a lot going on lately.” His gaze flicked to Natasha for a split second before he looked away.
Natasha narrowed her eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Sam hesitated, taking another sip of his beer. “Well, I, uh… I heard about what Steve said to her after the whole thing between you two.”
Natasha froze, her expression hardening. “What do you mean? What did Steve say?”
Sam’s lips parted, then closed as he struggled to find the right words. Wanda’s head whipped toward him. “You’re not just gonna leave us hanging, are you?”
Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Look, it’s not really my place to say what exactly happened. But… yeah, I heard about it all"
Natasha’s jaw tightened, her fingers curling around the edge of the table. “We haven’t talked all week. After I told her we, I needed space, we’ve been taking that seriously this time.”
Wanda nodded slowly, her voice soft. “She hasn’t mentioned it to me either. We’ve just been talking about the little trip Bucky planned for them.”
"What trip?" Natasha questioned "I didn't know about a trip"
Wanda sighed "They're at that Cabin you all went to for summer when you were kids, and too be fair you asked for space from her not the other way around, probably why she didn't tell you...."
Natasja groaned rubbing her hands over her eyes. Sam’s gaze softened, his usual teasing edge replaced with concern. “Nat, I think she's been through a lot lately. She didn’t tell me much, but I know she ran into Steve after she left you, and well he said some pretty outta pocket things to her.”
Natasha blinked, her mouth opening and closing as if trying to process his words. “What… what things?”
Sam shook his head. “It’s not my story to tell.... But from what I’ve pieced together, She’s been carrying a lot on her shoulders—between the things with you, what Steve said both times, and just… everything.”
Natasha’s expression was unreadable, her eyes distant. After a long pause, she murmured, “I should’ve handled things better. I let my feelings get in the way, and now…”
Sam reached across the table, resting his hand on hers. “Nat, it’s not too late. You and her have been through worse and come out stronger. Just… don’t let this fester for too long”
Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t even know where to start.”
Wanda gave her a reassuring smile. “Start by talking to her. You know she’s always willing to hear you out, you’re besties for a reason”
Sam nodded, his tone firm but kind. “Exactly. You’ve both been through too much together to let something like this tear you apart.”
Natasha exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll try. I just… I didn’t realize how much I let this all spiral. Ugh, thanks guys.”
He gave her a small grin. “Hey, what are friends for? Besides, I can’t move away knowing my kids aren’t playing nice.”
Wanda burst into laughter, smacking his arm playfully. “Your kids?”
“Yeah,” Sam said, shrugging with mock seriousness. “I need all my children to get along before I leave. I can’t abandon this dysfunctional little family otherwise.”
Natasha let out a reluctant chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Okay, Dad. We’ll figure it out.”
Sam raised his beer. “That’s all I ask. Now, who’s ready for dessert? I made brownies, and I’m not letting you two leave without trying them.”
As the brownies were passed around the table, the mood lightened, but Sam couldn’t shake the subtle tension radiating from Natasha. He glanced at Wanda, who gave him an encouraging nod, as if silently urging him to address the elephant in the room, the one between him and Wanda, the one Natasha didn't even know about. Wanda only knew because she got here 30 minutes before Natasha and Sam thought who better to ask if he should tell her what he knew than someone who lived with Natasha 24/7 and knew her like the back of her hand.
Sam took a deep breath, setting down his beer. “Hey, Nat,” he started casually, but there was a seriousness to his tone that made her look up. “There’s, uh… something else I think you should know.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow, already bracing herself. “What now, Sam? You moving to the moon next?”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Nah, this one’s not about me. It’s about Steve.”
Her posture stiffened at the mention of his name, but she tried to play it off. “What about him?”
Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “When I talked to Steve recently, he mentioned something… about you.”
Natasha’s eyes narrowed, her lips tightening. “What exactly did he say?”
Wanda’s gaze darted between them, her brow furrowing with concern. “Sam, don’t dance around it.”
He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Look, she told Steve that you’re in love with him.”
Natasha froze, her eyes widening for a split second before narrowing into a sharp glare. “She what?”
Sam held up his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. She didn’t mean anything by it. It just… came out.”
Natasha pushed back from the table, standing abruptly. “Why the hell would she say that? That wasn’t hers to tell.”
Wanda reached out, trying to calm her. “Nat, wait—”
“No, Wanda,” Natasha snapped, pacing the length of the kitchen. “I didn’t want him to know! Not like that. Not—God, why would she do that?”
Sam stood, keeping his voice calm. “Because she thought he deserved to know, Nat. She wasn’t trying to hurt you. She cares about you, and she thought—”
“Thought what?” Natasha interrupted, spinning on her heel to face him. “That I needed her to play matchmaker? That I couldn’t handle my own feelings?”
“Natasha,” Wanda said gently, standing as well. “She didn’t mean to overstep. You know she’s just been trying to keep everyone together.”
Natasha scoffed, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Well, she’s doing a great job of it, isn’t she?”
Sam sighed, stepping closer. “Nat, come on. You know her. She’s not trying to make things worse. She’s just… juggling a lot right now. And so are you.”
Natasha shook her head, her frustration palpable. “I don’t even know what to do with this. Steve hasn’t said a damn thing to me about it. Does he know how humiliating that is?”
Sam hesitated, then spoke carefully. “Maybe he’s trying to figure it out... You’ve had feelings for him for years, and he’s been untangling his own mess with her. It’s a lot for everyone.”
Natasha’s jaw tightened, her emotions warring on her face. After a long moment, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just… I didn’t want him to know like this. It feels so… exposed.”
The tension in the kitchen hung heavy as Natasha paced, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Wanda, seated at the small dining table with her glass of wine, raised her hands to diffuse the brewing storm. “Okay, but to be fair, Nat… you meddled between Bucky and Y/N for years. You practically shoved them together.”
Natasha stopped mid-step, her head snapping toward Wanda. “That’s different.”
Sam, leaning casually against the counter with a brownie in one hand and a beer in the other, raised an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? How exactly is it different?”
Natasha’s jaw tightened, her voice clipped. “Because they were obviously in love with each other. Anyone with eyes could see that. They just needed a push—a little guidance.”
Wanda wasn’t buying it, her expression skeptical. “And what exactly do you think you and Steve are?”
Natasha rolled her eyes, exasperated. “That’s not the same, Wanda. Steve doesn’t…” Her words faltered, the usually sharp edge of her tone softening just slightly. “He doesn’t feel that way about me.”
Wanda sat up straighter, her voice gentler but still firm. “You don’t know that. You’re assuming, just like Y/N assumed with Bucky for years. Maybe it’s not the same, Nat, but… if you’re not even willing to try, how will you ever know?”
Natasha scoffed, clearly uncomfortable, her fingers tapping nervously against the counter. “It’s not about trying, okay? Steve’s not… he’s still hung up on her. Everyone and there pet knows that. I’m not going to be someone’s second choice.”
Sam, who had been quiet through most of the exchange, let out a low whistle. “Yikes, this got real heavy, real fast.”
Natasha shot him a look, but Sam raised his brownie defensively. “Hey, I’m just saying. All this angst? It’s like being back in college.”
Wanda couldn’t help but laugh softly, the tension breaking slightly. Natasha’s lips twitched, but her frustration still simmered beneath the surface.
Wanda placed a comforting hand on Natasha’s arm. “You have every right to feel the way you do. But maybe this is a chance to finally have that conversation with him. No more guessing, no more waiting.”
Natasha’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes glistening slightly. “Yeah, because those conversations always go so well,” she muttered bitterly.
Sam reached out, giving her shoulder a squeeze. “Nat, you’re one of the strongest people I know. If anyone can handle this, it’s you.”
She let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. “Thanks, Dad.”
Wanda smiled softly, her voice teasing. “Hey, he’s just trying to get all his kids on good terms before he leaves.”
That finally earned a small, reluctant smile from Natasha. She looked at Sam, her anger softening. “I’ll figure it out. But if this goes sideways, you’re explaining to Steve why I threw his ass out a window.”
Sam grinned. “Deal.”
Before anyone could say more, the sound of a key turning in the lock echoed through the apartment. The door opened, and Steve walked in, looking tired but still managing to offer a small smile. “Hey.”
Sam perked up immediately, pushing off the counter. “Perfect timing Stevie. Brownie or beer?” He held up both as an offering.
Steve chuckled lightly, hanging his jacket by the door. “Why not both?” he replied, running a hand through his hair before stepping into the kitchen. “What’s going on in here?”
The three of them exchanged a quick glance before Wanda, ever the smooth one, piped up. “Oh, you know. Just solving the world’s problems over alcohol and baked goods.”
Steve’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked at Natasha, who quickly busied herself with clearing a nonexistent mess on the counter. “You okay?” he asked her directly, his tone quiet and concerned.
Natasha didn’t meet his eyes, her voice brisk. “Fine. Just tired.”
Steve didn’t push, nodding slowly before reaching for the beer Sam had handed him. “Well, I’m gonna chug this beer and devour some brownies, long day.”
As he moved toward the living room, Wanda watched him go, then turned to Natasha. “You’re gonna have to talk to him eventually, you know.”
Natasha shot Wanda a warning look, but her shoulders sagged slightly as she leaned against the counter. “I know,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sam, finishing his brownie, clapped his hands together. “Alright, that’s my cue. I’ll let you ladies work out all the feelings. Steve and I are gonna dive into this six-pack.” He winked and walked toward the living room, leaving Natasha and Wanda in a lingering silence.
Natasha finally sat down across from Wanda, swirling her glass of wine but not drinking. “I don’t know if I can, Wanda. Talk to him, I mean.”
Wanda tilted her head, her voice soft. “Why not?”
Natasha let out a bitter laugh. “Because I’ve been standing on the sidelines for years. Watching him pine for her, knowing I’d never measure up. How do you even start a conversation after that?”
Wanda reached across the table, her fingers brushing Natasha’s. “You start by being honest. No more sidelines, Nat. You deserve to be happy too.”
Natasha’s eyes shone with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away. “Easier said than done.”
Wanda smiled gently. “Yeah, but the best things usually are.���
As they finished dessert, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. Sam stood to start clearing plates, and Natasha leaned back in her chair, glancing over at Steve. “Hey, you mind stepping out to the balcony with me for a second?”
Steve raised an eyebrow but nodded, grabbing his beer before following her outside.
The cool night air was a welcome contrast to the warmth inside. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the balcony. Natasha leaned against the railing, her arms crossed as she stared out at the skyline.
Steve joined her, standing a few feet away. “What’s on your mind?”
Natasha hesitated, her fingers gripping the railing tightly. Finally, she sighed and turned to face him. “Sam told me you know.”
Steve’s brow furrowed. “About what?”
She rolled her eyes. “About me, how I feel about you.”
His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his expression softening. “So it’s true.”
“Yeah,” Natasha said, her voice quieter now. “It’s true.”
Steve stepped closer, resting his beer on the railing. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because it didn’t matter,” Natasha said, her tone a mix of frustration and resignation. “You were always looking at her. Always chasing after her. And I was… I don’t know. Just there.”
Steve’s jaw tightened, his gaze falling to the floor. “That’s not fair, Nat.”
“No,” she snapped, “what’s not fair is sitting on the sidelines, watching the person you love pine after someone else. Watching them hurt over and over, knowing there’s nothing you can do because they don’t see you that way.”
Steve’s eyes met hers, guilt flashing across his face. “I didn’t know.”
“Of course, you didn’t,” Natasha said bitterly. “Because you were too busy looking through me.”
Silence hung heavy between them, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He opened his mouth to speak, but Natasha held up a hand, stopping him.
“I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” she said, her voice softer now. “I just… I needed to say it. For me.”
Steve nodded slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Nat. For not seeing you. For making you feel like you didn’t matter.”
She offered a small, bittersweet smile. “I know you didn’t mean to. But it doesn’t change how it felt.”
Steve reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You matter to me. You always have.”
Natasha shook her head, stepping back. “I can’t do this, Steve. Not right now. You need to figure out what you want—who you are—before you even think about coming back to me.”
Her words hung in the air, final and unwavering. Steve nodded, his heart heavy with regret. “I understand.”
“Good,” Natasha said, her voice steady. “Because I’m not going to wait around forever.”
With that, she turned and walked back inside, leaving Steve alone on the balcony, the weight of her words settling deep in his chest. He stared out at the city, his mind racing with everything he’d lost and everything he might never have.
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The cabin glowed warmly under the soft flicker of candlelight and the crackling fire. The bottle of wine between you and Bucky was nearly empty, the two of you leaning comfortably against the couch on the plush rug. You took a sip from your glass, savoring the quiet intimacy of the moment, when Bucky suddenly set his glass down and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.
Bucky pressed a kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he whispered.
"For what?" you asked
"For loving me, for letting me love you."
You smiled, nuzzling closer to him. "There's nothing and no one i'd rather have than you, Buck."
“I need to ask you something,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.
You tilted your head, smiling softly at him. “Okay. What’s on your mind?”
He hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “It’s about what you told me… about Steve. What he said to you. That you shouldn’t be with me, that you should be with him.”
You exhaled slowly, setting your own glass down. “Bucky…”
“It’s been bugging me,” he admitted, his eyes meeting yours, vulnerable and searching. “I mean, do you—do you think he really meant that? Or was he just… hurting?”
You reached out and took his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. “Bucky, I think Steve was hurting. A lot. But there’s no way he really meant it. And even if he did… it wouldn’t matter. You’ve been my person since we were kids.”
His lips twitched into a small smile. “Really?”
You nodded, your voice softening. “Do you remember the first time you tried to push me on the swing? You said, ‘Sit here. I got you.’ Then you fell on your ass and scraped your knee.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I wasn’t exactly smooth, was I?”
“No,” you teased, leaning closer. “But you’ve always been there for me, Buck. Always. I’ve never had a single doubt about that.”
Bucky’s shoulders relaxed, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “Thank you. I just… I needed to hear it. With everything that’s been happening—with Steve, and now with Natasha.”
You hesitated for a moment before nodding. “What do you think is going to happen with them?”
Bucky sighed, leaning back against the couch and pulling you closer so you were tucked under his arm. “I don’t know. Natasha’s tough as nails, but Steve? He’s in his head a lot. They both deserve to be happy, though. Hopefully, they figure it out… together.”
“I hope so too,” you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder. “They both deserve a happy ending.”
The conversation lulled for a moment, the weight of the topic settling between you. Then you shifted, sitting up and looking at him. “Speaking of happy endings… Sam told me.”
Bucky blinked. “Told you what?”
“About his promotion, the big move.” You studied his face, waiting for his reaction.
Bucky let out a sigh, his thumb brushing against your hand. “I wanted to tell you, but he asked me not to. I’m sorry—”
“Absolutely not,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You don’t get to apologize for that. Sam trusted you with something big. I could never be mad at you for keeping that promise.”
His shoulders relaxed slightly. “It’s gonna be weird, though. Him being halfway across the country.”
“Yeah,” you admitted, your voice quieter. “It’s going to be weird for all of us.”
Bucky shifted, his hand gently cupping your cheek and turning you to face him. “We’ll figure it out. Just like we always do.”
You smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “You and me, right?”
“Always,” he said softly.
You let the moment linger before a thought struck you. “So… what’s our next step?”
Bucky frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“Well,” you said, gesturing vaguely, “we’re together, but we’re still living as roommates. Two separate bedrooms, two lives in one space. What do we want to do about that?”
Bucky tilted his head, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “What do you want, doll?”
You hesitated, your cheeks warming under the soft glow of the bedside lamp. “I’d love to get a house someday,” you murmured, your voice carrying a mix of hope and uncertainty. “Something with a backyard. Maybe even some space for… you know.”
Bucky’s lips quirked into a teasing smile, his blue eyes sparkling. “Kids?” he asked, his tone light but his gaze searching yours.
“Maybe,” you said softly, feeling your cheeks grow warmer. “What about you? Do you… want that?”
He didn’t answer right away, but the way his expression softened made your heart skip a beat. Slowly, he leaned forward, resting his forehead gently against yours. The weight of his next words felt like a vow. “A house, a backyard, a family. With you?” His voice dropped to a whisper, thick with emotion. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Your chest tightened, the sheer sincerity in his tone leaving you breathless. But then, his lips twitched into a grin as he added, “But… in New York?”
You couldn’t help but laugh, your fingers brushing against his scruffy jaw. “Maybe… Boston?” you offered, the word feeling both foreign and perfect on your tongue.
He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his grin widening into something radiant. “I don’t care where we are, as long as I’m with you,” he said earnestly. Then, his tone shifted, a playful but serious edge creeping in. “But you know, we don’t have to wait.”
Your brows furrowed slightly, tilting your head in question. “What do you mean?”
Bucky’s hands slid to your waist, his thumbs rubbing slow circles against your sides as he leaned closer, his voice low and certain. “I mean, I don’t want to wait to start my life with you—our life. I think we’ve waited long enough. If we both want this, why not now? Time’s never on anyone’s side, and I don’t want to waste another second without having all of this with you.”
Your breath hitched at the raw truth in his words, your heart thudding wildly in your chest. “You really mean that?” you asked, your voice a shaky whisper.
He smiled, his lips brushing softly against yours before he pulled back just enough to answer. “I do. I just want to live my life with you already. So…” His eyes searched yours, his voice dropping to something intimate and vulnerable. “Boston?”
You felt the word settle deep inside you, grounding and exhilarating all at once. “Boston,” you whispered back, nodding as your lips curved into a smile.
Bucky’s grin returned, wide and boyish, and before you could say another word, he cupped your face and kissed you, long and sweet, as if sealing a promise. When he pulled back, his eyes shone with happiness. “You have no idea how good it feels to hear you say that.”
You laughed softly, running your fingers through his hair. “I think I have some idea.”
He pressed another kiss to your lips, this one lingering and slow. “Boston,” he murmured again, as if savoring the sound of it. “It’s going to be amazing, doll. Us, a house, a backyard…” His grin turned mischievous. “Maybe even a dog before the kids, huh?”
You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly full. “One step at a time, Barnes.”
99 notes · View notes
g1rlken · 2 days ago
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too sweet 11
Rupert Campbell black x fem!reader, godfather!tony
— part 1 here
summary: Rupert comes forth with a proposal to help the Baddingham family out of bankruptcy
warnings: arranged marriage, mild swearing
word count: 6.4k words
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-
That could not possibly be. Kissing, Rupert. Rupert. Of all people, that man. How could she be so devoid of self awareness like this. Deprive herself of proper principles kissing him back this time. She didn’t even reminisce to the sweetness of the kiss, if one would call it that. Agitated out of her mind she huffed returning back to the paperwork at the end for the bankruptcy which did not seem to have any viable result. Meeting one dead end after another over and over. She had the feeling of being a traitor, kissing the enemy, not being a useful asset to the war at hand and then she realise it wasn’t the 18th hundreds; she had to stop flipping about. Mistakes happen. They happen. Rupert happened.
Following that week she avoided Rupert as if the proximity he was present in was about to go through a disastrous calamity, like a virus, which he was which everyone said. She wasn’t married enough to catch him like that. The prospect in her mind was funny, had she befriended any people in this godforsaken town to joke about she would do so. But as of now she did not have the time nor the correct people. Imagine telling Bas that she’d kissed Rupert. She would much rather self immolate than have that conversation.
The days were so ghastly she was met with such guilt filled anguish about the kiss and the knife of bankruptcy lingering over, loosing solutions and seeing her uncle’s turmoil. It could not get worse than this. Scratching, crossing and throwing papers in her home office upstairs she barely adhered someone at the door, when the bell rang. But it was evening and nobody important visited at the time. At least not for her. Others were probably anyways home to answer the door.
Tony’s face fell when he saw who was at the door and he did not even try to pick it up because there was so much to his displeasure already, “Good evening.” Rupert, dressed in a well pressed suit and flowers in his hand. “Bas is not here.” Tony answered for the man wanting to be done with this interaction with lightening speed. Sending him off right as he came.
“I am not here for him.” Rupert answered, climbing a step on the well marbled entrance stairs to the Baddingham mansion. “May I?” He said, politely allowing himself inside even though Tony felt like being ambushed.
Very uncharacteristic for Rupert to be this way towards their house. Flowers and suits and may-I-small talk. Rupert found his way to tony’s sitting area and he followed behind the man. Both men sat in arm chairs across each other, Tony observed with a distasteful raised brow as Rupert sat on the edge of his seat. Trying to feign respect? Poise? Tony couldn’t figure it out but he was vexed regardless. “So what is it?” Tony inquired letting out a sigh.
“Is Mrs. Baddingham home?” Rupert asked as he kept clutching on to the bouquet of flowers he’d brought for god knows what reason. Nobody had died, Tony thought to himself. Well not yet anyways.
Wanting to get this antics of his over with as soon as possible Tony nodded and called for his wife who was already coming in with a glass of water for supposed guest she’d heard come in when the bell rang. “Rupert!” She exclaimed setting the tray on the coffee table. “Didn’t know you were coming in.”
“I am very fond of the look of surprise.” Rupert amused keeping it light hearted for the conversation upcoming, then he drank half the glass of water she’d brought him. “Sit, please.” He gestured to the arm chair next to Tony.
Just as confused as lord baddingham, keeping her grace and politeness up the lady sat anyways. With her positive smile, “I’m sorry to disappoint but I don’t think Bas is here.” She said assuming the same reason as Tony.
“He is not here for Bas.” Tony answered for Rupert flatly, absolutely underprepared for the curveball that was about to hit him.
“That is right I’m not.” Rupert agreed as he put the flowers forth and then sat back in his seat, clasping his hands together with a deep breath. “It is no secret, you are struggling with certain finances at the moment. Despite of our differences I want you to know I am not here to gloat nor empathise…I have a solution. I just want you to be patient and hear me out once.”
“I have one of the best and most educated people working on it. It isn’t even that big of a problem to begin with” Tony scoffed, it was the biggest problem yet but why would he mention that to Campbell Black? Most definitely here to gloat.
“Are you not nearly bankrupt?” Rupert inquired knowing the answer he just wanted Tony to realise the gravity of his mess.
“Are you not intruding the matter?” Tony snapped back, his patience no longer ran thin it had vanished. The might of this man was unbelievable, he came all the way to his house unannounced to meddle in his business.
“I am not. Like I said I have a solution.” Rupert said with a guarded, bordering polite tone which he never used with Tony as long as he could recall.
Lady Baddingham sought to excuse herself from this conversation since she did not handle business nor finances, “I believe I must excuse you gentlemen to this not being my subject. I could send y/n in, she is working upstairs anyways.”
Before Tony could refuse that, not to disturb y/n, someone who was actually working on the matter instead of this time waste of a man, “No no-“ Rupert said, rather immediate to stop her leave when she didn’t even attempt to stand up. “Don’t send her in.” He emphasised as though wanting her to be the last person for this conversation. “You ought to be here for this, please stay.”
“Oh alright…” she trailed off with an awkward attempt to laugh and make the direly situation lesser.
“I could help you with your situation, waver the tax fine off. It is merely a write off with the minister’s letter and your debt, I could fund that as an investment…if I were to transfer the money directly to my supposed familial-” he paused extremely hesitant to continue but did not let his confidence falter “wife’s account. Wife which I don’t have, but I could.”
Tony let a moment pass, just staring at the man with scrutiny and joined eyebrows as if he were solving some arithmetic in his head. “What?” He spoke finally with a huff, “a wife?” Zero situational awareness as to where Rupert was headed with this.
“If it is an account of your own family, you could easily pay off the debts it wouldn’t even be an additional loan. Even from me.” Rupert shrugged just beating around the bush explaining him the dynamics but not intent.
“Suppose yes.” Tony said turning business with this but he knew there was a score at the end of his deal which would shatter the land beneath his feet, “but you don’t have a wife and due to my deplorable luck l can’t marry you.” Tony scoffed looking away in disregard at his ridiculous offer.
“Ah Lord Baddingham!” Rupert exclaimed laughing as if he actually found that funny, “always so quick with his jokes.” He said pointing it to the man’s lady wife who flashed a small smile at the interaction. “No I don’t mean you…I happen to not have a wife, like I said.” Clearing his throat he shifted in his seat for the third time “and you happen to have someone in your family who could be courted, nudged towards marriage. Your niece-“ he could have paraphrased even more and more but the scrutiny was getting somewhat worse as he realised his point did go across.
The point went across Lord Baddingham like a knife to chest, he contemplated so silently and expressionless the under-reaction was a horror brewing. Even the ever chattery lady wife of his had nothing to say to lighten the tension. “You mean y/n?” Tony asked, as if to confirm.
The calm and guarded voice of his question almost made Rupert wanted to refuse that but he weighed heavy on confidence and answered “Yes.”
Tony nodded, taking in a deep breath bringing his hands together as he stood up slowly “Give me a moment.” He said casually and exited the room with slow strides.
Leaving Lady Monica with him in the wake of the tension of the proposal. “It is rather a generous offer, your kindness and charitable nature baffles me!” She spoke and her usual merry and forever unfazed expression was actually taken aback this time. The gesture and the guts. “As in truly baffles me.” Flabbergasted even.
Rupert just smiled at her words with a nod acknowledging that with modesty but as the time seemed to pass slow on Tony’s absence from the room he couldn’t help but feel anxious. He wasn’t someone who felt anxious often, worrying is for losers. His worry ceased to alarm as he looked up to Tony returning the room with his hunting rifle. “Woah woah now hang on a minute-“
“How dare you!” Lord baddingam enraged pacing across the room as he hastily loaded the rifle in his hands causing his wife to stand from her seat. “You think?! You think I will marry my only niece to someone as vile as you?!” He had added the bullets to the empty load box aiming the edge of it towards Rupert who know stood behind his seat. “I would never disdain the memory of my brother by wedding her to YOU!”
“He was my friend too. My good, honest friend I saw him as a mentor and I too wish to do this for your family on his memory this is beyond our rifts-“Rupert began a hasty explanation. Monica’s hands on Tony’s shoulders were a feeble attempt to hold him back as he fired it in his direction but went to his slant and missed Rupert. “Have you lost your mind?! You could have shot me!” Rupert exclaimed having easily dodged the poor aim he did not believe the man would actually shoot, forced to think against it as he was reloading the rifle again.
“I do intend to shoot you.” Tony parroted aggressively trying to add another bullet into his hunting gun.
“We can have a rational conversation on the subject getting hostile!” Rupert retaliated as Monica got Tony’s gun to lower its shooting end yet not completely out of his grasp.
“On the subject?” He huffed at the underplay of words Rupert used. “Marrying my godchild to a fucking cunt like you would be an atrocity!”
“It would just be one in name, arranged and completely transactional. Had I wanted to swoon her I wouldn’t be having this conversation of asking her hand in marriage with her uncle and aunt.” Rupert tried to explain how he referred to the situation in his point of view.
But it was no use to the offended Lord Baddingham, “You wouldn’t be able to swoon her in your next eight rebirths.” Tony said pointing to him with his gun again which was now taken away finally by Monica, shaking her head.
“Murder is the last thing we need on our plate at this point darling.” She told her husband and set the rifle aside with a heavy sigh.
“Get out.” Tony said approaching Rupert grabbing him by the collar of his blazer, “Get the fuck out of my house-!”
“Alright but you and I both know that even with your debts off, that tax fine is a number nowhere near all of your fortune.” Rupert said treading dangerous waters with practicality and the only language Tony understood, money. “The bank debts, I will transaction them off not as a loan. You wouldn’t have to pay me back. And the letter for tax fine. Think about it you know you need this.” He spoke on the border of his way out before heading out, Tony threw a glass on the wall he was behind, his direction which finally made him leave in a hurry.
There was no possible way Tony would even think of it. Gruffly he scoffed running up the stairs. In a bit y/n herself came downstairs but did not seem to find her uncle anywhere, “Is everything alright? I think I heard gunshots.” She asked her aunt leaning against the kitchen entrance.
“Don’t worry about it, it was nothing.” Monica assured her with a smile as her children settled for dinner. “Come I’ll set your plate.”
“Are you sure it was nothing?” Y/n asked because from the current state of life her uncle was very much in a position to shoot somebody or worse, himself even.
“Yes…” Lady Monica trailed off with a sigh as she ran a motherly hand through her hair, “don’t you worry, alright?” She always had this grounding way about herself who treated y/n the same as her own children.
There was so much left to interpretation but at this point y/n didn’t know what other problem she could tackle so she let it be taking her aunt’s word. Tony came downstairs rushing and dismissed the dinner call, grabbing his coat and running off out. It left the rest of them rather confused but his antics weren’t unseen of.
Tony spent hours with his accountants going through the dynamics of Rupert’s hypothetical plan. Wanting to see if that viper had a double side to this arrangement, that is, if he even thinks about it. The affidavit assurance he spoke of did make it solid. The accountants were very, very positive to go through this deal but he hadn’t told them the anguish of him yet.
He came home and discussed the matter over again with Lady Monica, “the accountants call it a golden deal but, Rupert?! I mean come on-“ he scoffed as he narrated it. “He’d marry her just to spite me. The intent, the motive it all seems so ghastly.”
“If the accounts have reassured you, I suggest you think this over rationally and not emotionally.” Lady Monica advised him from her seat, she loved y/n as much as Tony if not more but the stakes were rather unaffordable this time “Blessings in disguise don’t just come knocking at your door.”
“Rupert is no blessing.” Tony corrected her as his posture stiffened, his money and the post may just be so but himself was nowhere close to it.
“He doesn’t live that far” Lady Monica said with the undertone of considering the proposal, trying to give her husband silver linings.
“What does that have to do with anything?” He asked confused brows raising up at the implication.
“She wouldn’t be that far from us should you consider the prospect.” She explained meekly hoping it would get through without being offended. He did not get so, but he was still dismissal of the silver lining. “She is a smart girl. Why don’t you talk this over with her?”
“And tell her what? I am offered fortune of a dowry for her?” He scoffed shaking his head, he eventually would have to but he did not like that confrontation nor the subject.
“Tell her we are offered a way out, like the accountants said…a golden deal. She would understand.” Lady Monica said lastly as she bid him farewell and good night. He probably didn’t sleep the whole night that night with the information he had to relay on his niece the following morning.
The sunrise had never seemed so very dreadful before as it rose with the household. Tony had to put forth the happenings of yesterday and he hated it already, the sense of upcoming heartache. “You called for me?” Y/n’s knock on his home office door pulled Tony out of his trance as he nodded and gestured her to sit. She followed as she sat on the teal arm chair. “I have to go submit the appealing papers for an extension on the tax notice today did you look at the papers?”
Tony had long forgotten about those papers he had to go through previous night and they just rang a bell as of now. “Oh? Yes, the papers” he spoke paying less mind to it and then with a heavy sigh he sat slant to her on the sofa. “There is something else I wanted to talk to you about.”
The somber yet serious pitch of his tone was new these days, “what is it?” She asked placing her file on the desk to listen to him attentively.
“Rupert, came here last night and he has told us something that might change things.” Tony briefed her in vaguely even though he had thought about it the entire time last night he couldn’t find the right words to relay the information on her now that she was right in front of him.
“Rupert” she repeated trying to undermine the anxious paranoia rising within her. The fright she felt as to what he could have told him, the kiss? He wouldn’t stoop that low would he. It was a mistake. “What did he have to say?” She asked trying her best to maintain a level proper tone and not let the obvious anxiety show.
As he narrated about the proposal the colour on her face drained bit by bit, her uncle explained her only the dynamics of his money oriented offer and only lastly added “…that is, if you are to marry him.”
Y/n just started at him for a moment zoning out in the tense silence and then her shoulders relaxed as she gathered Rupert didn’t tell him about the kiss. “Marry him?” She let out a huff, “How dare he?! Has he gone mental to even think he can come into our house and bait us-“
“No no listen” Tony interrupted her before she was about to mirror the exact reaction he had from when he first found out about it. “I went to the accountants last night and they went through it. The dynamics of it—they said it is a golden deal.”
Oh. The fact that he was taking this in consideration and not ridicule and offence just sinked in. But she could not fathom it, “Are you asking…” the proposition was so ghastly to even say it in a sentence she just tailed off in implication.
“I don’t know if I am.” Tony said honestly because he had the same feelings on saying that out loud. Asking her to marry Rupert Campbell Black? “It’s a bad way out of this, it seems to be our only one.”
“What are you saying-?!” She exclaimed as she stood up from her seat in shock and disgust, “are you serious uncle? Rupert? Rupert?! Of all people? Rupert Campbell Black?” She scoffed speaking out her distress all in one breath “That man?”
“There is no need to panic like this I wouldn’t force you to even breathe in his direction let alone marry him if you don’t want to.” Tony assured her standing up with her and he walked across the space to get her a glass of water. “You have worked on this, you know what’s at stake and what else are our options.”
She took the water he offered her and gulped the full glass all at once to ease the nerves, “I know, I understand I know we don’t have time even, but” she let out a heavy breath even repeating that man’s name again felt like saying a slur. “This is-this is ridiculous!”
“You my darling are the first born of this family.” He told her putting a hand on her shoulder reassuringly “I would never want you to marry someone you don’t want to let alone that swine. You are worth a fortune for me alright? I have never asked anything of you all your life and I’m not even asking for this. I just want you to be open to it”
“But he’s Rupert!” She let out an exasperated sigh and moved away from him, pacing back and forth “If I marry him I’d never be able to show my face anywhere” she said considering that ugly life.
“This pains me more than it does you but he is not, not-reputable” he briefed her trying to provide whatever consolation.
"I don’t mean here" she said with an exasperated sigh running a hand through her hair. "I have friends everywhere but this place, honest, educated people. They would look down upon me if I was Mrs Campbell Black." It was more than a horror to loose even more people she could call her own. The city colleagues, people she trained with, went to university with. Forward minded new deal politics people would discontinue friendship with the conservative MP's wife.
"You will always have us though and you do have friends here, work, Corinium, you do have plenty." Tony explained, what seemed to be a big concern for her wasn't as dreadful for him. After all she had never given him a reason to think she considered countryside to be a small pond.
"It’s nowhere close" she muttered well aware she would not be able to get this point across.Besides she did have lots of other concerns to dwell upon "He is infuriating, a deceit, a hedonist and he is so much older!' She did not intend to let that come out as a whine.
"You do not have to clarify that to me, I have spent more years loathing him than you have seen winters." The godfather in him anguished more than he empathised with her. It was beyond understandable that it was only his disdain which had seeped through her due to all the right reasons which would make this even harder for her.
“My life would be over." Words couldn't put front just how much of dread occupied her heart and mind to even consider this.
"You know this doesn't have to be permanent. At all." He plotted in a low tone providing her actual theory to look forward to "Two years and you can divorce him. Our funds would be steady, the new earnings would be consistent and we can drop him like dead meat."
With a sharp intake of breath she thought his words over, that could be so. Knowing Rupert his own whim wouldn't last that long. "Two years maximum?" She asked for reassurance as she sat back down on the chair.
"Maximum." He confirmed positively mirroring her seating. "Consider him a means to an end. Two years is all I ask from you and then you can always marry a boy of your choice again!" All I ask from you y/n, his words echoes with the same blend of plea and demand of his tone.
She had felt this undertone of owing her godfather woven fragments in the tapestry of her life. He had raised her, like her own, it is only fair she repays it with her life however she can. Most days he felt hyperaware of the debt in her emotions, her unsaid obligation he did not feel like putting out like a house fire but raising more like a forest fire. She had started to feel this weight as she grew more sentient and emotionally mature, the weight grew more and he never bothered to tell her otherwise. A price for a parental figure she felt like paying for, pursuing careers he told her to, leading a life he asked her to. Neither him nor Monica ever made her feel a void in place for a childhood. She could say it was blissful and healthy despite of the tragedy. Tony articulated sense of purpose for her, she abided. Always. Forever bound to gratitude. "Ultimately this is your choice, if you refuse to the marriage we wont have this conversation again. You have my word."
You can always get another degree of your choice! You can always marry a boy of your choice again! Over and over and over twice the time for twice the decisions because she had to live it up for two people. Herself and her godfather. It was barely an illusion of choice, her uncle was not a level heeded man when cornered. If not today, next week when, if not then when the third notice comes in, that is when he would loose his composure and she knew him well enough to see that.
With a day or two to her demise and battling against the circumstance, there wasn’t even any other road to not be taken. The universe had put forth one and only one way out of this and it was an incomprehensible burden to carry. A simple, “Alright then, Rupert it is.” And the wedding bells rang like an alarm in a troubled country. Tony rushed to inform Rupert of it in the very same day not even an hour of time difference since she agreed. To have a second thought himself or offer her more guidance and a space to change her mind which she so desperately wanted to. There was no time, they had more than just wedding to make arrangements for.
Her godfather had asked y/n if she were to join him in informing Rupert of her acceptance but she abruptly refused. Which was understandable, why would she endure the man in optional settings. Tony didn’t force her on attending for now anyways, she was doing a lot in retrospect.
However the exchange left Rupert with an unsure and skeptical attitude to the lady’s willingness when she did not come with her uncle to relay her answer. It felt rather strange and knowing Tony he would most definitely answer for his niece and then force her to the outcome he wanted. So he decided to take matters into his own hands to cross check.
Somewhat late in the night post dinner as the countryside fell quiet to the crickets and nightly mist. Easily making his way through the estates he calculated exact space to her room by standing right below it. Unaware that a heartbroken y/n was lying in bed listening to her vinyls trying to angst out the gradual foreseen depression with music. She missed the pebbles clashing on her balcony door. It was only when their amount grew and the feeble sounds became frequent that she was pulled out of her horror-dreaming trance of envisioning her upcoming life. She pulled the needle off the vinyl and turned away from the record player to inspect over the balcony. Hugging her cardigan closer to herself as she was exposed to the chill November air outside of her room. She lowered her gaze to inspect where the direction of the small stones that lay around her balcony. That is when she saw Rupert halfway through the tree adjoining her balcony. “What are you doing?” She asked as her eyes widened and her face fell at its sight. He was rather swift with his movements and study grip over the old tree and then he jumped off to the side, then the pipe, a bit too much of sturdy gymnastics and she was more freaked out than concerned or amazed. “Have you lost your mind-?!” She was whisper yelling as she looked back to her room to see if someone was there to interrupt this madness.
He managed to climb up to her balcony. Leaning on the railing from the outside as she distance herself, catching a breath creating a winter fog. He smiled through panting out his determination, swaying his leg across the railing as he made his way into her balcony. “I would have come through the main door but you ignored my calling.” He said referring to the small stones laid around them, in the wake of his attempt to catch her attention.
“What is wrong with you!” She exclaimed knowing well enough that there was plenty, “what if you had ended up on the wrong balcony.”
“I did. Your cousins, the children. They directed me here.” He said plainly as if he were to end up at any other room would be a horror for him. Nothing fortified his will more than what his heart desired “I wanted to see you.”
“At this hour?” Making her away inside to her room given it was unbearably cold outside for just one layer which she’d worn. She was in no mood to cater to his stunt but he followed her inside and she did not refuse him anyways.
“You could have come to meet me yourself today, when your uncle did.” He said with a shrug, closing the door behind his hands. Rupert wanted to cross check if she even knew that Tony had visited him today to affect his proposal.
“I didn’t want to then and I don’t want to now.” She spoke with an alerted and agitated look on her face. Alert to look out for any noise outside of her room, concerned footsteps if they heard conversation from her room in the dead of the night.
“Has he even told you?” Rupert said with a scoff, he was more confident over the fact that Tony would have said yes to their marriage for his self serving ways and not even considered her. It couldn’t possibly be that she herself couldn’t be bothered to visit him herself to give her ‘yes.’
“Told me what?” Bemused look on her face, unsure that there was more information for her uncle to withhold from her.
“Unbelievable…” he scoffed putting his hands on his hips as he looked around and then back to her, “just as I thought. He came to visit me today to tell me you accept the marriage proposal.”
“I know that” she answered with a unfazed look on her face, not even of sorrow or remorse. “He told me he was going” hell, even lady monica wanted to go with a proper basket and celebratory essence of it but it was neither celebratory nor familial so she did not attend.
“And you did not deem it necessary to come?” He was surprised to say at least, blissfully unaware to a large extent of her despise towards him he thought it was all to change after the kiss, not spike overnight of course. But aren’t some things sealed with a kiss?
“I do not have to endure you a second longer than actually required, why would I go voluntarily?” She raised obvious brows at her reasoning not taken aback by his assumptions and extractions of her attendance.
“The way you are marrying me voluntarily.” He reminded and also questioned to confirm if it was a voluntary step or not.
“I am trying to save my family’s fortune voluntarily.” Y/n rephrased the proposition, that is what she told herself too. It was his scrutiny towards her for not accepting his proposal herself which threw her off, in her house in her own room was this man making her out to be answerable to him. “What are you even here for? Out!” She said pointing to the balcony door again, her aunt was a light sleeper anyways she wouldn’t risk that.
“I wanted to confirm if you weren’t being forced into anything.” He responded truthfully however it seemed like his integrity held account for something so small in her eyes.
“Well now you have.” Answering his illogical concern she shrugged, she wasn’t being forced but at the same time whose choice would be Rupert. “You can leave.”
“So you will marry me.” He said plainly wanting a real answer where she would not just brush it off. Taking a step closer to her gently taking her hands in his.
If he was being so direct she could not rephrase the situation, arranged setting, business deal, financial consequence, “this is a violation.” She said gesturing to him holding her hand and took it away.
“Violation like when you kissed me.” Rupert said with his usual smug, grin and he could see the buttons being pushed in her head.
“That was a mistake.” An obvious agitation was not the blush he expected. “As is the marriage I’m telling you. I’m miserable as it is you will lose your mind. This truly is a big mistake.”
“A mistake I’m rather fond of.” He dismissed her paranoid concerns and fragile self perception. “We will find our footing.”
“What if I don’t that want with you.” She told him crossing her arms always panning out the worst but she did feel that way, at least show she thought she did.
“Then I will wait.” Ever so confident he could make so much work with her, it was beyond infatuation and also her understanding just how much he was capable of in his want and yearn.
“I won’t change my mind.” She told him firmly and in all truthfulness to put out the flames of affection and domesticity he may expect from her.
“And what of your heart, my love?” He asked further, more straws from him to grasp on and the straw was her heart. How inconveniently determined.
“I am not your love.” She affirmed bringing her brows together as a response to her unaccounted detest to the word.
“My bride.” Rupert added an option to her being his to a certain configuration whichever she found befitting.
“—Not yet.”
“Fiancé then?”
“That generally requires a ring.” She would much rather have a stone drown her down a stream than a stone on her finger which symbolises being his.
“Oh does it?” He asked nonchalantly as if he had something brewing, he certainly did. He reached out for his pocket bringing out a small red box.
“God no” she sighed as she realised what it was without him even opening it. There was a ridicule in the tragedy of this situation.
Getting on his knee, slowly, he opened the box and his eyes never left his bride, “will you-“
“There is no need for this dramatics this is simply a business arrangement and a finance-“
“Do you ever shut up?” He interrupted her still from his place situated on one knee.
“I should just shut up and marry you?” Going in for her turn to not-shut-up she said in between spaces of his sentences which caused him to revert what he was going to add.
“Shut up and marry me” he nodded, despite of his assurances she was so headstrong and stubborn. There was more a logic in a sentence so simple than further explanation.
There was more to the question than just marriage and him. Fragments of obligation, dutiful girl’s perfect life and her godfather’s generosities upon her. But in moments like these, the kiss, him climbing a tree to her balcony in the middle of the knight, the kiss, him wanting to reassure her despite her coldness, the kiss, him down on one for her, the kiss…the damned kiss. Taking the ring out of the box she but it on her finger in a swift motion only so he would stand up.
Rupert wanted that part to be intimate and his, but this is the closest to that he could get with a possibility of having her throw the ring on his grinning face. He didn’t want to take any chances. “Suits you.” He stood up staring at his ring on her finger.
“Farewell then…” she trailed off not wanting to feel the ill fabricated heavy emotions of his close proximity. As he was about to turn to her door out the room she stopped, getting in his track. “Not from there! The balcony” she pointed, her aunt was a light sleeper he ought to go out the way he came.
“How come? I will just use the main door it’s the same distance.” He answered unaware of her concerns of wrongness in his presence at the mansion this late.
“You can’t do that someone will find out you were here!” She exclaimed shaking her head.
“And? Your uncle has already put forth your terms of wanting a separate room, separate bed after marriage it’s not as if we would be having pre marital sex” he huffed at the sanctimonious assumption, jokingly implying she cared for the sort. She was too modern and he was too adulterated for that. However them not doing it had several other reasons, mainly her.
“Even post marital sex with you is far from dreams please don’t get ahead of yourself” she scoffed. He was pompous with the amount he’d bedded and could do so which repelled her even more to share a ‘marriage bed’ with him. He wouldn’t force himself on her so she did not specify that, it was an obvious boundary. It’s just his ballon of pride she wanted to guest perhaps over and over again.
“Afraid you’ll like it? Just like the kiss?” He knew the kiss was a tingling subject for her and he misused it full to his advantage.
“Get out!” Running out of replies she realised she did not owe him any. Feebly shoving him towards the balcony finally made him give in.
“Alright alright” he sighed standing halfway out the balcony door smiling the entire time. Before his exit he placed a gentle peck on the side of her face and made his way out, the same gymnasium of tree lunges and balcony railing. “Good night, my love!”
Already repulsed by his kiss the last words irked her further “not your love!” closing the door and curtains to the balcony on him at once she returned back inside to the disrupted serenity of her room. The music long abandoned she fell on the bed again, rethinking the interaction and overanalysing her thoughts.
Looking down at the ring on her finger, the more she looked the more it seemed to weigh and she had barely slept enough on the fact that she was getting married to Rupert Campbell Black. She couldn’t sleep in his ring.
Removing it from her finger to the bedside table she turned off the lamp to match the dark phase of her life. With a sigh hoping for sleep or morning, whichever outruns her thoughts.
Next part is the wedding and you’re all invited ;) please let me know your thoughts in the comments it really motivates me
🏷️ @playbucky @theoceanandthestars @omgbrianab @melancholicandmessy @nebulastarr @sarahsobsession
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maudie-duan · 2 days ago
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First Series!!!
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Series Summary: For nearly two years, Harry has been fighting to keep his relationship with Olivia afloat. At what point does he make the choice to either endure or let the stain of the world defeat his ambitious hopes of a lasting relationship? Or will a single night and a fleeting encounter be enough to change the projection of Harry’s path? Maybe our ‘Mystery Girl,’ Shiloh, will just happen to be in the right place at the right time. 
A/N: You guys, this is my first series; bear with me. In no way, shape, or form is this meant to follow Harry’s actual life, nor are the facts or timelines real. This story will be from Harry and Shiloh’s POVs. I like switching between them. I’m nosy, and you get more details this way. So, if you like details, you’re in the right place. This story will be a slow burn, so hold tight. I’m glad you’re here!!! ENJOY!!!!
Word Count: 2K
Warning: Strong language, minor angst, eventual smut, emotional.
Harry’s (POV) Part 1- Mystery Girl
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I don’t usually think of how my relationships will end, but I’ve been thinking about our ending—the consequence of our beginning looming over our heads as if it were a pleading prayer whispered into the night. When “I love you” no longer sufficed, the emptiness stretched between us and how fickle we were. How we continued seeking tiny moments, desperate to fill that void—A revolving door of new faces and places where we lay tucked away, pressing our bodies together like puzzle pieces, hoping that one day they would fit together—indefinitely.
Surely, we knew this wasn’t going to work, right? From the beginning, we’ve been on two different parallels, trying to make this work, trying to force a path through murky water when neither one of us knew when or how the tide would roll in—and here I am, miserable out of my fucking mind. In a shit headspace just waiting for this evening to end because there’s nothing worse than getting into a massive blowout right before an event. I can’t figure out what’s worse, the fight or the forced niceties. The last place I wanted to be was in public, but this is my life.
Olivia was on about something—actually, I don’t even remember what the fight was about this time, and that’s what it’s been lately. These bullshit fights about petty, senseless matters that take more energy to create than they do to fix. It’s just that she’s gotten so jealous and paranoid that I’m growing distant, that she’s the only one fighting to be in this relationship, and maybe she’s right.
—Side note: Before tonight, I really hadn’t been interested in anyone. Honest to god, I was truly in this wholeheartedly.
Anyone who knows me knows I’m constantly in the public eye, even if I think I’m lying low. There’s always a chance that someone will recognize me. The chances of someone taking a picture are even greater because everyone needs proof, or it didn’t happen, right? I personally don’t believe in this—but to each their own—If you know me and who I am, that’s precisely what you get. She knew this when we met, yet she insists that every move I make is for the world, like I can’t comprehend all of the sacrifices that she has made to be with me. Trust me, I know, and as of late, she’s taken every opportunity to throw it back in my face. 
In all honesty, I know that relationships take work, but isn’t there supposed to be balance? Somewhere along the way, we’ve lost that. We both jumped in feet first and now life seems to be catching up even faster—the constant push and pull in every direction is getting old. Everyone wants something, and she wants the most. It’s like she doesn’t understand the sacrifices that I’ve made. It’s not easy being the world’s biggest pop star and falling in love, but I felt she was worth it at the time.
And now she wants more—Roots that I can’t seem to give her. It’s like I’ve only just begun to find my own footing, stepping into the skin that finally feels right, that’s mine, and she wants nothing to do with it—She wants the control. She wants me to align with whatever she thinks our life should be.
I mean, I get it. I understand wanting the security of always knowing your next move or having a better grasp, but surely Olivia knew what she was getting herself into. It can’t be this big surprise that our life together isn’t panning out into what she had imagined, and the shittest part about it is that I don’t even want to try anymore. I don’t want the things that Olivia is trying to project onto me with every fight that ends with her begging me to choose her—is that not what I’ve been doing this whole time?
I’m lost in thought when Olivia whispers something into my ear. She had gone on and on about this Gucci Cruise show and was pissed when I decided I didn’t want to sit front row. I didn’t want to distract from the show or draw unwanted attention. Especially after that fight—God, that stupid fucking fight that left her in tears, her makeup a wet smear all over her face, almost making us late. 
Tonight was supposed to be memorable. How many people get the chance to attend a Gucci show? This was my first. It’s an honor that I wanted to appreciate and take in with the gratitude I feel not only for the brand but also for the friends I’ve grown quite close to.
“I just feel like the whole point of coming to a fashion show is to sit in with the audience and have a genuine experience of the clothes and the people—” Her comment is pointed and sets me off, so I do the asshole thing and walk toward someone I know leaving her alone with her underhanded comment.
Eventually, I walk over to the edge of the curtain, peering out into the crowd, trying to pinpoint faces I’ll see later, making a list of people I want to see or possibly avoid. As I skim the front row, my eyes land on a woman who looks vaguely familiar. Still, I can’t put a finger on it. She sticks out like a sore thumb. For instance, she is one of the few wearing dark sunglasses in a dimly lit room. Making her stand out in all black, except for the few accents that set her apart from everyone else around her, who are dripping with vibrant colors, something you would expect at a Gucci show—wild statement pieces, different patterns, and textures that ebb and flow amongst each other.
She was magnetic in a way that made it hard for me to look away. The light played off her features, creating a soft aura. A delicate ray of pink traced a faint glow around her. I couldn’t tell if it was an illusion or a trick of the mind in my rose-colored glasses. When I lowered my frames to get a clearer view, I found that she was just as stunning without them—and still, to this day, I can’t explain the feeling; it was like my soul took the lead, reaching out, hoping to find a tether. A single piece of thread that could tie me to her.
And there I stood, my mind spinning out of control. I don’t even know how long I stood there. How long I continued watching her, captivated by how the light which seemed to dance with the shadows every time a model passed in front of her. Another thing I noticed was her ruby-red lip. How they spread into a shy smile, the light catching the gleam of her white teeth—a sight I imagined could be seen from anywhere in the room if you were fortunate enough to catch it. I observed her as she straightened upright and crossed her legs, almost as if she had suddenly become aware of her surroundings. Was she nervous? 
Her hair was slicked back into a sleek bun, tight against her scalp, making her features more pronounced and giving her a tidier appearance than everyone else. This timeless look could set anyone apart from the crowd, but what really caught my eye was the gilded chain dress that hugged her all-black attire underneath. I wanted to see her stand up. I wanted to know how the light played off the delicate beads draped from the woven metal. I wondered if it was uncomfortable for her or if she realized she stood out more than the celebrities around her. She had to be someone important, right? Not just anyone can sit front row at a Gucci show—Who is she?
As if she sensed my gaze, her head abruptly turned toward the curtains, causing me to jump back and bump into Olivia. “What the hell?” I hissed. 
Olivia stepped back, eyes wide, my words landing with a bite. I thought, “fuck is she about to make a scene?”—and yes, the bitterness was unnecessary, but it came more from defense than anger. I didn’t want to be found out. What was I doing anyway? How long had she been standing there? Could she see what I was looking at? Or could I pretend that I was trying to get a better view of the show, which was technically true, right?
“Can we please start over tonight?” she asks, almost pleading. “I know tonight is special for you.” Olivia runs her hands up my chest and cups my face.
“Okay…” I exhale. I want to have a good time, but a part of me knows I would enjoy myself more without her here, and it’s this very feeling that will haunt me all night, my thoughts like demons filling the room—unwanted guests that I’m no longer sure I want to keep at bay, and I know this isn’t fair. 
I couldn’t tell if it was the afterparty or the drinks that came with it, but eventually, the mind fog that plagued me throughout the evening began to lift. It was like a breath of fresh air, each drink diluting the pressure; the animosity threaded into every conversation Olivia and I had was evaporating. I could let go of the stress and relax into the theme of the night—and that was to have fun and fucking enjoy myself because I work hard, dammit.
It was getting easier to play into Olivia’s game of putting on for the coward. This was the part she liked; she loved putting on in a room full of people. She fucking thrived on the attention—she loved wearing me like a glove she could take on and off whenever she pleased. 
I was already three drinks in when I spotted my “mystery girl.” It surprised me—she was much shorter than I had imagined, but something was compelling about her presence. When she finally looked my way, I instinctively put my arm around Olivia, feeding into the lie, feeling like a fool when her eyes flitted over me with no recognition, piercing my ego in one swift look. I didn’t know what I thought would happen…actually, I’ll tell you exactly what I thought would happen. I thought my presence alone would be enough to garner her attention. Instead, I stood there stunned when her eyes lingered on Olivia, sending her a friendly smile as she mouthed the words, “I love your dress.” pulling at the strap of her dress to drive her compliment home.
Astonished, I stood by, holding my breath as the transaction morphed into Olivia mouthing a returned compliment, making ‘Mystery Girl’ beam and my chest swell with jealousy as she turned away, not even sparing me a second glance. She moved through the room effortlessly, like a hummingbird, moving from flower to flower fast yet graceful, donning that beautiful smile that had me begging her to look my way—just one more time. That’s all I would need. 
Was she a journalist? It seemed like everyone knew who she was. She spoke to everyone she encountered with such ease that each conversation I noticed flowed as if they were friends—though perhaps they were, but how was I to know? At some point, I lost her in the night, or maybe I knew I had to release her from my thoughts. I wanted to end the night on a high note, not go home with a suspecting partner to whom I would have to explain myself later. 
So, by drink five, I was being pulled onto the stage with Stevie, duetting a few songs, and as I closed my eyes, singing out the lines:
Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above? 
Can I sail through the changin’ ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
I opened my eyes as we swayed into the chorus, browsing the crowd. My gaze locked with Olivia’s, who was crying, tears streaming down her face, a pained look of grief stealing her features. We shared a look of understanding. Maybe even realization, but it hit me hard, the sadness creeping up my spine as she turned and moved away from the crowd, and I noticed her bump into Alessandro, who caught her by the arm with a concerned look on his face. I pulled away from the microphone, my voice choking up, and I let Stevie take over. We both knew that our world was crumbling right before our eyes and when I glanced back over, searching for Olivia, she was gone. 
A/N: Ya'll let me know in the comments what you think. I'd love to get your feedback. If you think I should continue?? Hope you guys enjoyed!
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i2rizz · 18 hours ago
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Stuck in a storm Pt.1
Summary: You get stuck in a storm with the Blue Lock boys.. how will they react?
Featuring: Isagi,Rin,Bachira,Kunigami,Chigiri
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Yoichi Isagi
•At first, he tries to act calm and logical. He scans the surroundings, pointing out where to find the best shelter. "Over there—it looks like there’s a covered bus stop. Let’s head there before it gets worse."
•He’s the type to immediately offer his jacket even if it means standing in the rain himself. When you insist you don’t need it, he shakes his head. "No, seriously, I’m fine. Just take it. You’ll get sick if you don’t."
•Checks his phone obsessively for weather updates or to see if the storm will pass soon, only to groan when the signal cuts out. "Figures. Of course, the one time I actually need my phone…"
•He’s not used to moments like this and fidgets awkwardly while trying to keep you comfortable.
•When thunder cracks loudly and you flinch, his protective instincts kick in. Without thinking, he grabs your hand, his voice soft and reassuring. "It’s okay, I’m here."
•Later, when he realizes what he’s done, his face heats up, and he stammers out an apology. "Uh, sorry. That wasn’t weird, was it? I just… wanted to make sure you were okay."
•Deep down, though, he’s secretly happy he got to hold your hand, even if it was for a brief moment.
Rin Itoshi
•The moment it starts pouring, Rin groans in frustration. He pulls his hood up but glares at the storm like it personally offended him. "Just my luck," he mutters, his tone icy.
•He doesn’t say much at first, just scanning the area for shelter. When he spots a small abandoned shed nearby, he gestures for you to follow him. "Over there. Let’s go."
•The atmosphere is awkward at first because Rin doesn’t exactly know how to be comforting. Instead, he silently shrugs off his jacket and places it around your shoulders, avoiding eye contact. "Don’t argue. Just take it."
•Stands stiffly by the entrance, crossing his arms and muttering about how inconvenient the storm is. "I could be doing something productive right now."
•You try to lighten the mood by pointing out how pretty the lightning looks, and he gives you a sidelong glance. "It’s just light," he says flatly, but the faintest smirk tugs at his lips when he catches you staring at it in awe.
•When thunder rumbles and you instinctively grab his arm, he freezes but doesn’t pull away. His voice softens slightly. "You don’t have to act scared. It’s just noise."
Meguru Bachira
•When the rain starts, Bachira laughs like it’s the most exciting thing to ever happen. "This is awesome! Free shower, anyone?"
•He doesn’t even bother running at first, instead splashing through puddles like a kid. He turns back to you with a playful grin. "What? You’re gonna stand there and miss all the fun?"
•Eventually, he notices you shivering and drags you under a tree for some shelter, shaking out his hair like a wet dog and accidentally spraying water all over you. "Oops! My bad."
•To keep you distracted from the cold, he starts playing silly games like “Would You Rather” or “I Spy,” but his answers are always bizarre. "Would you rather fight a hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?"
•When thunder strikes and you jump, he doesn’t miss a beat. "Woah! Scary stuff, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!" He says it dramatically but ends up clinging to you instead.
•By the end of it, he’s convinced this whole situation is a “romantic adventure” and teases you about it. "See? Told you we’d make the most of this. Now we’ve got a stormy love story to tell everyone."
Rensuke Kunigami
•The responsible one, Kunigami immediately takes charge when the storm starts. "We need to find shelter before this gets worse. Come on, let’s move quickly."
•He keeps a protective arm around your back, guiding you toward the nearest safe spot he can find, which turns out to be an old pavilion.
•Once there, he insists on giving you his jacket, brushing off your protests. "I’ll be fine. You’re the one I’m worried about."
•Always prepared, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you to dry your face. "It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing."
•To keep the mood light, he starts joking about how this feels like the beginning of a survival movie. "Think we’ll have to start rationing snacks soon?"
•When thunder rolls, and you cling to his arm, he chuckles softly but doesn’t say a word, just pulling you closer. His steady presence alone is enough to make you feel safe.
•After the rain lightens up, he looks at you with a gentle smile. "You okay now? Let’s get you somewhere warm."
Hyoma Chigiri
•When the rain starts, Chigiri lets out a dramatic sigh, already annoyed. "Great. Just what I needed today."
•He’s not a fan of running in the rain but picks up the pace slightly to make sure you’re not completely drenched.
•Finds a small overhang and guides you there, pulling you close so you can both share the limited space.
•Starts fussing over his hair, muttering about how it’s going to take forever to fix. "You don’t know how much effort it takes to keep it looking this good."
•Offers you his jacket with a teasing smirk. "But only because you’ll owe me after this. I don’t just hand out my stuff for free, you know."
•When thunder roars and you instinctively grab his arm, he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he smirks and leans closer. "Scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. You’re welcome."
•By the end of it, he’s back to teasing you, calling this the “most dramatic storm adventure ever.” But there’s a warmth in his eyes that shows he secretly enjoyed looking out for you.
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whorrorbvby · 17 hours ago
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an update:
hey friends a lot of people have been asking where ive been on other socials and im sorry for being m.i.a and ignoring everyone’s worries. im not getting into it right now and i dont know if i want to talk about the details publicly. 
i deleted tumblr from my phone about two and a half weeks ago and ive had a friend keeping a queue going on main for me. it might be that way permanently now i don’t know. I don’t know that I want to come back to tumblr if im being honest. a lot of things happened and i just can’t handle seeing certain people anymore so i’ve been hanging out on two of the more safer socials where tumblr people people generally leave me alone. not that im upset with you any of you or anything it’s more of a personal relationship and it just turned me off of basically everything and i just can’t handle a lot right now.  
i didn’t want to stop posting my own content for obvious reasons but i really can’t bring myself to come back it’s too hard and my heart can’t handle it right now. i also haven’t taken any new photos or anything and as of right now i don’t really feel super comfortable in sharing my body in that way. situations have made me feel disgusting as a person and i can’t look at myself. im trying to post more on ig to boost myself back up but i don’t know my self image is kind of ruined now. plus i’ve lost 15lbs from stress and inability to eat because of it and with how many people already harass and bully me for how scrawny i am i don’t want to subject myself in my current mental state to even the possibility of anyone saying anything. 
but like i said i have a friend running main for me and i might have them run this account too and my pepper page just because i do want to go back to making content i just dont know if i can handle posting or being in certain spaces right now. 
on top of what im currently dealing with in my personal life this is just a really hard time for me in general because of the holiday season and close to the anniversary of my best friends death so i tend to shut down a little anyway it’s just my entire world came crashing down again and im honestly starting to give up on even existing. i know im being melodramatic and i need to suck it up and just go back to status quo it’s just really hard this time and i cant force myself into a positive headspace like i used to even for a second. i have honestly never felt this empty and i barely know who i am or what my worth is anymore. 
i dont know if i’ll turn my asks back on. my friend offered to answer anything for me but its better for my mental health if i dont because i know people will ask questions and i dont trust myself to not completely go off on a tangent. im sorry i know im rambling but i feel like a proper update with zero room for misunderstanding is needed and i dont want to sugarcoat or lie to any of you to make myself seem or feel better cuz i respect the hell out of you guys and you deserve honesty if for nothing else. and i appreciate so fucking much you all continuing to support me and hype me up through all the bullshit life keeps throwing at me. 
im mostly on ig and threads right now and on threads im talking about games and movies with new people im meeting and it’s been really helping through shit. if you follow me on snap you saw me say im thinking about deleting everything. my accounts are still up and as long as my friend still wants to help me out i’ll at least have a queue running on main but i’ve deleted every social app other than ig and threads. i wholeheartedly planned on deleting snap last night but it’s the only way some of you get any updates from me so for now i wont delete it but i might make a new one instead just to get away from situations that are bringing me down. we’ll see. if I make a new snap i’ll post it everywhere n put it in my bios. that being said i don’t have a private/nsfw snap and i wont make one im sorry. i still wont sell content outside of what i post on peppers and i wont do customs im sorry. maybe in the future but right now i need to focus on myself and getting out of this headspace before i do anything else. 
but truly thank you for sticking with me and just genuinely being the best crew around. i promise to try my best to get out of this mess of a headspace im in as quickly as possible and im really sorry for basically abandoning everything again but i really am hopeful for the future and just trying to focus on myself and my happiness at the moment 🙏🏻🧡
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ldysmfrst · 11 hours ago
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Incomplete (4) - 8 Makes 1 Team, But 9 Make...
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Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader
Status: Ongoing series
Chapter number: 3 of unknown
Word count for Chapter: 14,942
Word count for Story: 33,808
Genre: Idol Soulmate AU
Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter contains panic attacks, the death of a non-main character, y/n having lots of negative emotions towards self, Protective San, and Shielded Jongho.
Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?
INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST
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With their attention entirely on the oldest of the three ladies in the room, silence looms. There was a slight tension because they were finally learning something about you besides your name.
Seonghwa could feel your unease and– guilt?
Cindy looked at each of the bonded soulmates before stopping at Seonghwa and said, “Y/n… Y/n’s soulmate was murdered on June 15, 2016– on her 18th birthday.”
Ateez stared at Cindy wide-eyed and dropped chins because that wasn’t possible. Denial ran through the bonded group like a tide wave from everyone but Jongho, who still had minor reservations. As far as everyone they saw, all the signs were there that this woman sitting next to their oldest bonded mate was indeed another link in the bond.
They were your soulmates, not this other person, right? 
“I know this may seem like a stupid question, but” Jongho breaks the silence, his mind diving back into the secure walls he always kept around his heart. Maybe his soulmates were wrong, and this is just another game. 
“No, no. Let’s start with a non-stupid question… what do you mean Y/n has a soulmate already?” asks Wooyoung.
Another silent conversation happens between the three ladies before the younger friend speaks. God, what San wouldn’t give to gain mind reading as an ability instead of pinning. He doesn’t have to have Seonghwa’s ability to see your emotions, which are not in a good place right now, and it cuts his soul not to know how or why. 
“Darren Donahue. Y/n and Darren were instant friends when she transferred to our school in the middle of 3rd grade. They were inseparable all through the rest of elementary school and into high school,” says Kat.
“After growing up with soulmates as parents,” Kat smiles gently at Cindy. “I had an innate understanding of how to spot soulbonds or possibilities. It was resoundingly clear that there was a potential bond between them. Darren was a year older than Y/n when he turned 18 and could finally connect with his soulmate if he had one… but he never even looked.”
“Darren had asked Y/n’s mom to take her out for her 18th birthday. By that time, he had told several of us that his heart knew she would be his,” added Cindy. “All of us were supportive because we all agreed. Sure, there was a chance that we were all wrong. Ever since… we kind have wished we were.”
The boys watched as you sunk more into yourself. Now more than ever, Seonghwa wants to stop the feeling of guilt coming off you in waves, but looking at Jongho’s stern face, he understands that, for some reason, his ability cannot get through to you.
“Y/n, how did you know that Darren was your soulmate? Did you bond?” questions Hongjoong, hoping to get a clearer picture of what has happened and, in turn, what is happening. 
Looking at the Captain, you nod and show them a deep, still pink, rough scar carved into your arm. “He was with me at midnight when I turned 18. I gained my soulmate ability to feel emotions right away, but I don’t know what he was because we never got to...” your voice cuts as Ateez watches the tears fall. 
Glancing over at Hongjoong with his firm jaw, Yeosang feels helpless. He can see that the other members are feeling similarly. San blinks his eyes rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. Wooyoung hasn’t looked up since you answered his question. Yunho and Mingi look like they want to go on a murder spree because none of them know what to do to help you. 
They are useless to what their ladymate has gone through, and they don’t know what the future will hold since… well, since, according to popular belief, you only have one complete soulmate bond within a lifetime. The scar on your arm must be where your soulmate's mark formed when the bond was completed. Why it is a scar now will have to be discussed later.
Seonghwa watches your face as it silently contorts through what he can only think are memories and silently cries with you. If you and he had the same ability you gained once you bonded with this Darren… then you survived more than anyone will truly understand.
Jongho moves to stand behind the soulmate he can help and brings Hwa out of his small spiral of guilt for you for living with what happened. No one should have something so precious ripped from their hearts after such a short time.
“Maybe we are second chances,” comments Yunho. “They are practically unheard of and even rarer to be at the numbers we are.”
“Yeah, sure, Yunho,” scoffs Jongho. “If we were second-chance soulmates, then why would she not respond to all of our abilities? Where is our soulmate mark?”
The men are at a loss, and from the contemplative looks on your friend’s face, they see that they aren’t the only ones. None of them are well educated in the realm of soulmates and soul bonding. They don’t have answers for anyone, which doesn’t settle well with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, San, and Mingi. Is there anyone who they could talk to?
The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls everyone’s attention to their manager, which gains him some glaring from the demon line. “I hate to say this, but we need to leave for the BMO soon, Hongjoong-ssi,” he says nervously. 
San stands up quickly. “We can’t leave her right now. It won’t be suitable for any of us. Things are already strained as they are.”
“San-hyung, we don’t understand what is happening. It could be stress and timing that is causing all of this,” comments Jongho with an almost dismissive attitude.
“Excuse me?!!?” challenges San, squaring off towards the group's youngest member.
“Go,” you firmly say. “You need to be there for Atiny tonight just like you were there for us last night. I cannot be the reason for anything that affects the show or makes you all late. You did fine without me before. It’s not like I will be any help now.”
“Things have changed, Y/n. You made contact with San-ah and Seonghwa-hyung, meaning the soul-bonding has started with the two of them and yourself,” interjects Yeosang.
Ignoring Jongho’s not-so-silent scoffing, Hongjoong adds, “Once a soul-bonding starts in a group, it is fragile until the rest of the group bonds. It doesn’t finalize until everyone accepts it though.”
“You mean she has to follow you around now? Until everyone accepts her and vice versa?” asks Kat. “How will that work and not end up all over Dispatch or TMZ?”
“I can help with that, Miss Kat,” a young man says, stepping up from the corner dressed like he should be attending a kind of Paramore concert. “I am Mathew and I have been assigned to you three as a personal bodyguard for the remainder of your trip.”
“Excuse me?” questions Kat, their eyes looking the man up and down with confusion.
“I will explain later, Kat, before we leave the hotel,” intervenes Cindy. “How can you help?”
Mathew looks to Hongjoong and Seonghwa and then turns to their manager. “Tonight, I was supposed to have the night to watch the concert from the crowd. If we could get tickets for the three of them seated with me, we could attend the concert and reduce the distance between them all.”
“She would have to be closer than she was last night since the bonding has started,” adds Mingi. “Since we cannot have her on stage with us and hiding her backstage will pull the three of us in the wrong direction, she will have to be practically stage side like the photographers or VVIP.”
Nodding, Hwa speaks up, “Y/n, I know that this is probably more than you ever thought you have to deal with, but after tonight’s concert, we don’t have to be at the next stop until Thursday morning. We could sleep on it and talk in the morning?”
Seonghwa’s eyes are imploring and sweet in their gaze, while Jongho’s gaze is cold and calculating behind him. They watch your eyes bounce between them, your hesitation clear as day on your face. Ultimately, you look away from them, which deflates Hwa’s heart. 
“I'm sorry, but we really must leave,” their manager quietly says. “What do you ladies want to do?”
“We will go to the concert tonight,” decides Cindy. “I think it has been a lot and it has all happened a bit too fast.” 
Looking to Hongjoong, Cindy continues, “Let us talk to her, just us, and we will see you at the concert or afterward. If you could have someone show us our room for tonight we could talk about things till you want us to go to the concert?”
“Mathew-ssi, please?” orders Captain but nods to Cindy. He was right that their new soulmate isn’t hearing anything right now, but then again, who would? Especially not after everything the new soulmate has been through.
Ateez remains quiet as they watch Mathew and a few other guards escort you, Cindy, and Kat out of the conference room. 
“You have 10 minutes, then we have to leave,” says their manager before exiting to ensure everything is settled with the hotel.
Once the door is shut, all hell breaks loose among the members.
San is glaring and calling Jongho out for disregarding the new soulmate, to which Jongho defends that it doesn’t make sense, and Wooyoung is trying his best to keep them from actually getting into it.
Yunho tries to talk Mingi into staying in the room and not trying to start the bond before the concert, but Mingi swears it will help him concentrate better if he can connect through the bond with you.
Yeosang is watching everything fall apart at the seams as he holds on to each of his soulmate's mooring lines and your plaited silk line to ensure that none of them start to unravel. Tensions haven’t been this high for the eight-membered bond for a long time.
Hongjoong is lost in his own world, trying to figure out how this works. It’s clear to him that you are theirs. Your reactions to them in the parking garage were enough to dispel any thoughts of doubt from his mind. 
As Captain, he knows Jongho has dealt with lies and broken promises the most out of them all, so it is no surprise that their little bear has his paws out and is swinging. However, right now is not the right time for his insecurities to come out, but who can control what they feel when it comes to stuff like this? 
A broken hiccup is heard between all the voices, snapping everyone’s attention to Seonghwa, who has been sitting there motionless, staring at the door where you left. 
“Hwa-hyung,” calls Jongho with heaviness as he realizes their intense emotions overwhelm the eldest soulmate. He was too caught up in his argument with San to help keep everyone more level-headed because he doesn’t feel very level-headed right now, either.
“She felt it,” Seonghwa says, his voice wrought with pain and helplessness. His hands grasp the bottom of his shirt, wringing it tightly as he tries to sort everything running through his mind and heart.
Wooyoung kneels in front of Hwa, using his sleeve to dry the tears that have covered the elder's cheeks, “Felt what, hyung?”
“Y/n,” he starts before glancing at each of his soulmates. “She felt him die.”
Deafening silence encompasses the room, soulmates, and the remaining bodyguards taken back by this fact. Pulling Hwa’s hands from their current destruction of the shirt, Wooyoung holds them tight with comfort. “Hyung, what do you mean?”
“She said that her ability was the same as mine. She feels emotions, which means if this Darren guy was her bonded soulmate and he was murdered as Cindy said, then Y/n would have felt it,” Seonghwa almost whispers, his eyes searching his imagination, trying to fathom what that would feel like or do to a person.
The feeling of a soulmate bond breaking from being rejected or denied feels like a permanent emptiness, but a bond breaking because of a death is heard to be like your body being engulfed in fire. It is well known that soulmates tend to pass away together because the loss of one is too much for the other to handle without permanent crippling damage. 
The newer bonds are even more susceptible to extreme emotions. The mind and body must find a way to adjust to everything, and what is felt is already heightened, so distance between two bonding soulmates is not advised. But to have been granted the ability of your soulmate’s emotions, the immense or overwhelming feeling of the bond snapping into place, and then to feel the pain and life drain from that soulmate is beyond words. 
“Maybe that explains why her bond mark looks so ragged,” San wonders aloud. “I always thought they were supposed to be pretty.”
Standing slowly, Hongjoong says, “We don’t know what she felt or didn’t feel, and it will be up to Y/n to tell us more if she wants to. I don’t think this is a topic that we should push for details unless we have to.”
The rest of the boys nod in agreement, even Jognho, as he avoids the looks he is still getting from San. “Joong-hyung, how are we supposed to perform tonight?”
“I say we do just as Y/n asked. We need to be there for Atiny. We are Idols for a reason,” Hongjoong says, with no room for a counter.
“Can we wear the dark knight costumes for the opening act? And maybe the purple velvet too?” asks Yeosang. “I think with what we learned tonight the black would be appropriate and the purple might bring a smile to Y/n’s face.”
A soft smile forms on Hongjoong as he agrees, “That would be a nice gesture and besides we can’t wear the same thing as yesterday anyways.”
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The ride to BMO was another Ateez-sardine-packed van. No one wanted to be left alone, but for San and Seonghwa, it was the only way to get them to leave the hotel. The ride was short and quiet. 
At arrival, the touring staff knew something was off with Ateez, but no one had the guts to ask what had happened in the last 24 hours. They had been around the group long enough to know they kept tight-lipped regarding internal issues. 
The wardrobe noonas were informed of the change requested for the costumes and quickly complied because the sad eyes and pouty faces of Yeosang and Seonghwa were not to be turned down. 
To say Ateez was distracted would also be an understatement. The make-up noonas or stagehands often had to call the members multiple times before they would snap out of their haze. The disconnect from how Ateez was before even caused some questions from the BMO event staff, but the touring team quickly found ways to reassure the BMO event staff that everything was fine, even if they didn’t know if it was true themselves. 
Once Hongjoong noticed his members' mental and emotional capacity for interaction was nonexistent, he tried to answer everything and guide the pre-show craziness away from his bonded soulmates. He knew there was a better time to unpack everything with each of them. There was only a short amount of time before Atiny was expecting them. It was his time to take his role as Captain seriously and stand strong for his soulmates, including you.
Seonghwa needed his makeup reapplied several times because he could not stop the tears from falling. The empathetic looks he got from the KQ team almost made it worse because they thought it was all for his grandfather when, in truth, it was for you.
Yunho felt a little lost in how to help. He agreed that you were a soulmate. He felt it in his bones that they were your second-chance soulmates. He also is abundantly aware of how much of a fairy-tale that sounds like, especially to Jongho. He also knows that he has heard of it happening, but he can’t remember who it happened with to save his life.
While Yeosang is typically the ‘baby girl’ and sunshine of Ateez, he also has the potential to be a member of the demon line, which is showing now. His face has taken on the resting bitch-face mode, not because he is mad at anyone but because he is concentrated on the soulmate lines. He is concerned about how his bonded soulmate's demeanor has changed and wants to know the moment you are nearby. He is unsettled because he can no longer feel the plaited silk line, and it is starting to feel like ants under his skin.
San is about to have his hyungs knock some sense into him because he acts more like a feral dog than a human at the moment. Out of all the bonded soulmates, San expresses emotions physically. It is one of the reasons why he took up working out and getting buff. He wanted to be able to protect his soulmates, but he also wanted to find ways to get out his aggression or libido without driving the loves of his life into the ground. Right now, he has decided to turn whatever he can find into a personal mini-gym in the guise of getting himself pumped up for a second night.
Unsurprisingly, the shorter of the two giants has secluded himself from everyone and everything. Mingi mentioned to his twin that he would be in the small room he found backstage to ‘settle himself,’ as he put it. In all actuality, Mingi was researching soulmate bonds, second-chance mates, bonding marks or scars, and one-sided soulmate bonds.
As an ESFJ, Wooyoung could see that his introverted Captain was stressing himself out, dealing with everything as if he was alone, and decided to help. Don’t get it wrong, Wooyoung was still processing everything but was good at multitasking. His ability to be social, talk someone’s ear off, and get things done while not breaking a sweat was something that most of the world found endearing. Right now, for him, it was emotionally draining when all he wanted to do was get San off the low-hanging rafter he was using like a pull-up bar and cuddle up until he could initiate the soul bonding with you.
Jongho focused on vocal warm-ups and paced anywhere that kept him away from San, Mingi, and, well, pretty much anyone else. He knew what he said in the conference room was wrong but didn’t want to get hurt again. Moreover, he doesn’t want his bonded soulmates to put too much into something that may end up causing damage in the long run. He is already beside himself because two of his hyungs have already started a soul bond with someone who hasn’t even once expressed that this is something that she wants. 
“Soundcheck is in 5, then BE:FIRST is up,” the leading stage manager shouts.
Looking at his soulmates, Hongjoong needs to figure something out to get them out of their funk.
“She is here!” Yeosang exclaims, springing up from his seat with the biggest smile. “She came. I think they are pulling up because it’s moving too fast for her to walk.”
Seonghwa and San close their eyes and lean into the bond they started with you, which pulses ever so faintly. Both members smile softly, and the tension within their bodies melts. The bond the two have with you is more solid than ever. You may not have verbally agreed or accepted their bond yet, but whatever your friends discussed with you has kept you from at least rejecting it. 
A few seconds later, Mingi swings open the door to his hiding room and jogs to the slowly forming group, “She is here and is in pain still. Are there seats with her ticket? Can she still see us if she sits?”
“Relax, Mingi-ah,” Seonghwa says, pulling the tall one into a hug. “I am sure Mathew-ssi and manager-nim have everything under control. We can look for her during soundcheck and if we see anything needs to be done, there is still time. Okay?”
Nodding, Mingi smiles at Yunho and glances at Jongho, noting that the youngest also has a half smile. Mingi’s heart squeezes slightly at the thought that Jongho is more on board with you being a soulmate than he is letting on. 
“Ateez, it’s time,” says their manager, walking up to the circle they have naturally formed. Holding a hand up, he smiles and quietly says, “She is in the VVIP Section downstage right along the start of bridge with her companions, Mathew, Ji-ho, and Ha-Joon. They should find their seats soon. Now, please, I know it won’t be easy, but show her that she isn’t going to hinder your career but that you know she is there.”
Catching his arm before he walks away, San asks, “Did she say something, manager-nim?”
Looking around at the staff milling around, the manager leans in, “Mathew sent me a text while they were in their hotel room, mentioning that it seems to be one of the more prominent points of conflict for Y/n. She almost didn’t come.”
“She almost didn’t come?” Hwa asks again to double-check that he heard correctly.
The manager nods with a frown, but the next second, he smiles brightly when a stagehand comes up to mumble something in his ear. “Thank you,” he says to the stagehand before looking back at the group. “She is seated. Be yourselves. It’s soundcheck time.”
As the manager walks off, the soulmates look at each other. Hoongjoong steps toward the center, “We can do this. We can perform for Atiny. We can perform for Y/n. She is with us. Eight make 1 team, but nine make a family, and I have no intention of allowing Y/n to worry that she is anything but a blessing to our bond. Who is with me?”
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Going on stage, the boys greet the Atinys, who are able to get special tickets for the show. It took everything for them not to make a beeline for the section you were in. They had discussed it as they walked to the stage to keep the same placements as the night before. 
However, Seonghwa, San, and Mingi couldn’t help but look for you immediately. Their hearts beat fast as they searched the crowd of screaming fans, only to have it skip a beat or three when they finally found you. 
You had dolled up a bit by adding some light makeup, put your hair up in a half-up, half-down style, and were wearing their tour hoodie from their Break The Wall Tour last year.
Mingi ended up pointing and waving to you, and the Atiny around you got excited at the idols' attention to their section. They smiled when they saw you shy away from their attention as you looked around momentarily before joining in the smiles and waves.
Hongjoong pulls the members forward to greet Atiny with their step out, asks some basic questions to engage the fans, and then gets the soundcheck on the road. Since this is their second show, the sound check is just for Atiny, as nothing needs to be adjusted. They start by running through Dreamy Day and Work. The members aren’t doing the full-out choreography, but each member can’t seem to go through a whole song without dancing some part of it.
When it comes time for the last soundcheck song, Hongjoong has noticed that you know some of the moves to the songs but are doing them more or less to yourself because everyone else around you is focused on singing or recording them. Wanting to give you a chance to dance, Hongjoong pulls out his Captain’s card.
“Wow,” he exclaimed. One thing I have noticed is we have a lot of good singers out here, but do you all know how to dance?” The crowd went wild as usual. Glancing over at you, Hongjoong and Yeosang noticed you were screaming along with them.
“Let’s see… Seonghwa,” the captain pulls the eldest soulmate’s attention, “Do you think you can show a little move of the next song?”
Smiling, Hwa moves forward a bit, saying, “I think Atiny really loves this move.” Rolling his hips with an outward fist, he pulls off the most basic version of the driving dance from Say My Name, causing all of Atinies present to go even wilder. As he turns, moving back to his space, his eyes land on you and note that you are moving along with him, making him smile even more. 
Mingi, Yunho, and Wooyoung look slightly irritated at the Captain for asking Atiny to dance because they are concerned that if you knew the song's moves, you would aggravate your injured ankle. Yunho turns in time to catch you moving along with Seonghwa and shakes his head. 
San has decided that avoiding the side of the stage you are on is best and looks the other way. He tries to keep Atiny happy and clueless about their internal struggles as they fall into their Idol mindset. 
The rest of Ateez do their best to fill in the gaps, moving around the stage and ensuring that all of Atiny gets attention. Yeosang still finds time to sneak you a smile or a wink, while Jongho mostly sticks to the middle of the stage. His internal excuse is his need to focus on the notes when he is actually trying to control his fear of showing because he knows there will be so many uploads of this to YouTube before the show even starts.
Once the song starts, the bonded soulmates kick in gear and dance to it at about 50% energy because it is just a soundcheck. Mingi is the least active of all the members as he goes through the motions but doesn’t change his level or hit extensions for several reasons. He is still feeling your pain, and he is too busy watching you under his sunglasses to ensure you don’t overdo it. 
By the song's end, the eight members have pumped themselves up as much as possible for the show. Pulling some last-minute screams and cheers from the crowd, the boys do one more step up and head backstage to prepare for the opening song. 
Each member, even Jongho, finds you in the crowd before they leave the stage to let you know that they are aware you are here and satisfy their worries about you enjoying a second night at their show. 
When Seonghwa can peel his eyes off of your form in the multitude of Atiny, he jogs down the ramp and right to his makeup chair because he knows that he will be the quickest to fix since his skin is naturally smooth and doesn’t need much attention. His mind is right; he is focused on this performance being for you, showing you that he can simultaneously be an idol and your soulmate.
Mingi, however, was the first off-stage and immediately went to their manager. “Manager-nim?” he interrupts. “Can you send something to her and her friends for me?
The manager’s face has a sly smile as he teases, “Let me guess Mingi bias merch package.”
Grinning with the tips of his ears turning red, he says, “She has San stuff on her bag, and I don’t know what she might have gotten yesterday other than our tour sleeveless tank, but I noticed she wasn’t wearing our tour sweater.”
“Yeah, she was wearing one from last year,” Jongho comments. 
“So you do notice her!” Yeosang says, poking the youngest’s side, which earns him a glare before Jongho moves to the wardrobe area. Turning back to Mingi, Yeo asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I am asking manager-nim if he can send a merch package to Y/n,” answers the giant. 
“Mingi-ssi and Yeosang-ssi, the VIP sections already will be getting a clear drawstring bag, postcard set, portable charger with flashlight, fan, and deck of gold-embossed playing cards. What else would she need from you?” asks their manager.
“A newer sweater? She had on last year's tour sweater on. I hope she wasn’t at one of the shows last year,” answers Yeosang, causing the manager to look confused.
Tilting his head like the answer is clear as day, Yeosangs explains, “If she was at an earlier show and we didn’t feel her at that show…”
“Then it is going to be that much harder to convince her that she is really ours at this show,” says San, finishing Yeosang’s thoughts and seeing the understanding come to the manager. 
“That… she had to have gotten it from a store. There is no way we wouldn’t have felt her before now, especially Hyung,” Mingi says with deep determination. Turning back to the manager, he says, “Add a beanie and a sweater to the VIP bag, please?”
The manager nods, pulling out his phone to text the request to the merch handlers to bring over before he gets a tap on his shoulder. Looking back at Mingi with a questioning face, Mingi’s ears get redder as he leans closer to whisper his request, “umm… can you add my picket so she knows who it’s from?”
Shaking his head, the manager adds the Mingi picket to the request list and shows it to the blushing Ateez member before he sends it over. “Mingi-ssi, Mathew will let me know when she gets it. I will also make sure her two friends get the VIP bag so she doesn’t stand out too much.”
“Oh, smart thinking. Maybe send a beanie to them, too. It’s supposed to be a cold night, and those two are important to Y/n, which means they are important to us,” smiles Mingi. 
“Got it, now go! You have only five minutes before you have to be in position,” playfully scolds the manager. The sounds of BE:First, they finally reach Mingi’s ears, and off he goes to get ready to show the world that he is ready for everything the world has to throw at him—including you.
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Making it through the concert's start was just like any other concert. Atiny was screaming, singing, dancing, and bringing enough energy to light up the whole city from BMO alone. Even the BBTRIPPIN members seemed extra sharp and high-voltage for tonight’s show.
Seonghwa and San could feel your bond thrum to the music as you got lost in being at the concert. After the first few songs, the two shared a look as they went backstage during a scene change.
“Do you feel that?” asked San.
Smiling, Seonghwa answered, “So it wasn’t just me. You can feel it when she changes with each song right?”
San nods while Seonghwa hops in place. “This means we can learn which songs she likes the most. This feeling was stronger during Say My Name and Work, right?”
“What was stronger?” asks Mingi with his hands on his hips, trying to figure out why they are so happy. 
“Y/n, with the bond, we can tell which songs she reacts to,” explains Hwa. “We felt it during the soundcheck and again with Guerrilla. I think it’s when she knows or likes the songs.”
Looking at San, Mingi asks, “You can feel it, too?”
“Yeah, but it isn’t enough to distract us or anything,” answers San. “I wonder which song will be her favorite?”
Hearing their cue with the pop-locking music for their traveling dance crew, the three find their positions for the next series of songs. Yeo, Woo, Captain, and Yunho are already waiting with the makeup noonas fussing over minor makeup corrections. San barely makes it in time for his solo dance entrance as the rest ready their capes. 
When it comes time for the opening-ments, they each greet Atiny like they did the night before, but when they mention the night before or being happy for a second night, the soulmates can’t help but look your way because, to them, you are the deciding factor of just how great this stop will be. The only downside is none of them can see you past the glaring lights shining on them. Seonghwa and San are the only ones who have any indication that you are enjoying the show.
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The show goes smoothly without any hiccups. 
Mingi sees you waving his picket during his solo rap, letting him know his little care package was received. The smile on your face and the lack of pain he feels is the only evidence he has that you are in a good place right now. 
Yeosang feels an extra pull from you at the start of It’s You, which makes him almost break character and laugh. He is well aware of how much Atiny enjoys that song, and it certainly isn’t for the melody. The lyrics and how they can now relate to you make him want to laugh. At that point, he decides to sing this song for you, to you, and about you.
Yunho, Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Jongho are doing their best to be present. Keep their minds from wandering about how you are doing, what you talked about with your friends, and what will happen tomorrow. 
It’s about halfway through the show when Jongho is singing his solo, and he somehow sees you in the crowd. Your eyes are drilling into him. Knowing that he can sing this song in his sleep, he closes his eyes and reaches out to you with his ability, testing the waters to see if he can feel anything from you. 
It’s like a water spout comes, throwing him into a whirlwind of emotions as his ability pulls them into himself. The ability to absorb is devouring the confusion, shame, anxiety, uncertainty, and heartache coming from you. Walking down the stairs at the end of his song, he can’t help but find you again as his heart flutters, and he can no longer fight against it– you are his ladymate.
Walking backstage, Jungho collapses into Seonghwa’s awaiting arms. The suddenness pulls them both to the ground, causing everyone but Wooyoung to run to their side. Kneeling around the youngest, they hear him mumbling something as he gasps deep, uneven breaths. 
“San, get his wardrobe change. Joong-ah and Mingi-ah get everyone not bonded away. Yun, he needs an anchor,” Seonghwa calls out directions. Looking directly at Wooyoung, Hwa nods slowly, saying, “He will be fine. Go out for your solo; we will be there on time.”
Leaning down into Jongho’s face, Hwa can see that he isn’t crying but is within himself. Passing him to Yunho, Hwa steps back, looks toward Hongjoong with a frown, and says, “I think he may have finally found his connection to her but it isn’t a happy one.”
A few more seconds pass as the soulmates watch their big bear bring their little bear back into the present. Jongho’s breathing stabilizes, and the mumbled words stop before he looks around and finds San. 
Standing up and rushing to the older soulmate, Jongho hugs him and says, “I am so sorry, Hyung. I wanted to keep us safe. I didn’t want to fight with you, but she was empty. It was like she was hollow, and now I know why. She has walls, so many walls.”
Hearing the music change, they all jump as the time between sets runs out, and Hongjoong steps forward, asking, “Are you okay with continuing?”
“Yeah,” answers the youngest soulmate. “I got this. If she can live with that for who knows how long, I can live with it for the rest of tonight. Yunnie-hyung’s anchor helped.”
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The rest of the show becomes a blur, as always. Heightened emotions, the heartfelt ending-ments, and the encore all come too fast as the second night in LA comes to a close. However, the night isn’t over for Ateez as they still have to go through their send-off, head back to the hotel, and see where the night takes them.
Jongho is peering through the cracks that give him the slighted view of where you would have to pass to be seated for the send-off when the manager's voice comes from behind, “She won’t be there.”
Spinning around, Jongho exclaims, “What do you mean?! She left?!” Jongho’s voice carried enough to draw the attention of the others, who were now approaching the two with variations of concern.
“No, she didn’t leave. I can still feel her line, she has to be close,” answers Yeosang. “Where is she going though?”
“For her safety, she is going to one of the vans with her friends and their security team,” informs the manager.
Ease falls over the bonded soulmates, each loving you just a little more for your desire to be fair and considerate to others you don’t know. Hongjoong says, “Then let us not keep our Atiny waiting and get through the send-off like we always do. Once we are done, we will go back to the hotel. San, Seonghwa, and Jongho should ride with Y/n and her friends. The rest of us will go in the other van, and security can take their regular positions.”
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Making their way through the send-off feels like the longest part of the night but is, in all truth, shorter than the soundcheck. Atiny are smiling, laughing, snapping pictures, and getting autographs from their bias. Unknown to them, their bias is only focused on the Atiny soulmate in the van at the end of the long line of endless people. 
Hongjoong, Mingi, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang enter the first van. Their energies are still bubbling with the adrenaline of another completed show. Are they exhausted? Yes, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t buzzing. 
“How do you think she liked the show tonight?” asked Mingi. “I know people follow us like roadies on tours, but she hadn’t planned on going to both shows.”
Running his hand along Mingi’s arm, Yunho teasingly says, “She was enjoying herself. I could see her waving your face around like she was trying to extinguish a fire.” A warm blush graces Mingi’s face.
“She did seem to enjoy her care package, Mingi,” adds Hongjoong. His mind is trying to find a way to see into the van behind them. He wants to know where you are at now. Have you started to accept them? All of them? 
Is that why Jongho was able to collect your emotions? Is that why Hwa and San were mumbling about your reactions to songs? Is that why you decided to come tonight?
Curling into his soulmate’s side, Wooyoung whispers into Yeosang’s ear, “Hyung, did you see her smile during your dance? She couldn’t take her eyes off you. She practically ignored me and San during ‘It's You’.” 
Woo knows how easily flustered Yeo can get despite his on-stage persona. However, all the bonded soulmates know how passionate he can get behind closed doors. Placing a soft kiss at the dip behind Yeosang’s ear, Wooyoung comments, “May be she would enjoy a private dance?”
Blushing and biting his bottom lip, Yeosang nods. The thought of you accepting them and allowing for moments like that spike his emotions. The plaited silk rope tugged his chest the more he thought about giving you that private dance. He is happy that you are not in the same van right now. He is known for his control, but at the same time, he knows that soulmates with fated birthing dates have a unique bond, and he cannot wait to explore where that leads the two of you. 
A soft growl is heard as Hongjoong’s eyes close with his deep breath. “Yeo, baby, your scent is warming. As much as we are all on an energy high, we can’t do that right now. We have more pressing matters.”
Jabbing Wooyoung in the ribs and muttering playful threats, Yeosang apologizes to his leader, “I am sorry, hyung. I will be good. I don’t want to mess any of this up.”
“Speaking of messing things up,” interrupts Yunho. “Do you think Jongho is okay now? Will the two of them be able to work things through now? He is on board now, right?”
“I hope so. It’s one of the reasons why I had him go in her van. It will give them time to talk or feel each other out,” explains Hongjoong. “I just hope it’s not too late.”
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When they arrived, the hotel garage was practically empty; however, that was not the case, and they were now a skeleton crew of makeup, wardrobe, and sound team running around. While parking, Wooyoung received a text from San telling him to bring everyone to the ballroom.
Spotting San pacing near a side entry, Hongjoong all but stormed over to him, “What is going on?”
“She didn’t get to see her favorite song,” answered San, like that explained everything. 
Watching the controlled chaos around them, over half of Ateez was still lost. Soon, the door behind San opened, and Seonghwa and Jongho, dressed in purple costumes, and their manager came out. Confusion still graced Wooyoung and Mingi’s faces as the light of realization dawned on Hongjoong, Yunho, and Yeosang. 
“Are we changing in there? Where is she?” asked Yeosang, already moving into the small impromptu green room. 
“She is in her room. Her young friend Kat knows Korean, apparently, and helped us plan this. We don’t have much time,” answers Hwa, pushing the rest of his soulmates to get ready. “We have a show to perform.”
Letting out a laugh, Wooyoung rushes after Yeosang, yelling, “Hey, you might get to do that private dance afterall!”
“Is this a good idea?” asks Mingi. 
Pulling his gentle giant along, Hongjoong says, “We won’t know until the end. Until then, she should see that being our soulmate means that while we are Idols who perform for the world to see, our eyes are only on her.”
“Gag. That was gag-worthy, and we still need to sing, hyung,” Jongho says, rolling his eyes at the producer. “Now, please, go get ready.”
Getting ready, the tour team kept their lips sealed and didn’t outwardly ask why they were doing this sudden mini-show, but then again, their contracts have a very detailed NDA that came with a hefty bonus when something soulmate-related happened. 
Seonghwa, San, and Jongho explained that they found out you had missed seeing them perform one of your favorite songs both nights in a row, and you were sad that there was a song they didn’t perform. It was Jongho’s idea to do the mini-show for you so that you would be content and happy when you went to sleep. 
They had a set list ready and would sing to their instrumental or acapella. The boys are ready and waiting in the darkened ballroom with nerves stronger than anything they have felt in a long time. It’s a good thing; they have all agreed because they want you to be theirs more than anything else. 
“Ready on stage,” whisper, shouts their temporary stage manager.
It’s maybe ten seconds later that the ballroom door opens, and the sound of your laughter spills in as you walk in, looking behind you, saying, “You would have thought Yunho was doing more than dancing on the stage with how loudly she was losing her shit over him standing there.”
When you face the front, you freeze at seeing the single chair in the ballroom lit by a spotlight. The bonded soulmates can see you try to squint to see in the darkness before you turn back to see your two friends and their manager standing just inside the door. 
“Remember everything we talk about in the hotel room,” smiles Cindy. “Dave completes me. You deserve to be complete, too.”
Your friend Kat walks forward, taking you by the hand, and they guide you to the chair. “Eight of them can be overwhelming, but I believe each holds a piece of your soul that you lost when it shattered.”
“I have known these boys for more than anyone else, and I have never seen a more dedicated soulmate group in my life, Miss Y/n,” their manager adds. “Listen with your heart to what they have planned.”
With that, the three left the ballroom. The lights went out, and it was time for the boys to convey their longing for you to accept their bond and give them a chance. 
Stepping to his microphone stand, Mingi starts singing an acapella version of Star 1117 as the floor lights come up. He focuses his eyes on you as he pours his soul into his words. Hongjoong and he know they wrote the song for Atiny. The title lends to the day the name Atiny was picked out and focuses on looking to the stars for love. It’s Ateez’s wish that they can look to you as their star in love and you can trust them to protect you forever as their star.
The next song starts sounding through the ballroom speakers as the members pull their microphones off and gather closer to you. Seonghwa takes the middle with Jongho as they serenade you with Light. Jongho, who wasn’t on board in the first place, uses this song to express he finally has realized that the nine of you are meant to be one.
By this time, the boys can see you are fighting back tears. Seonghwa and San feel the energy flowing through your partial bond with them, making it harder for them to finish the song without crying. Yeosang can feel your plaited silk rope pull and release as you sway to the song. He has felt it before, but now it’s almost as if he can see it linking the two of you. 
Quick steps are made as the eight Idols find their place before an upbeat synthesizer starts. Yunho starts the song with a smile when he sees your eyes light up. They haven’t performed this song in a while, but the bonded soulmates wanted to perform their song Promise because it is their promise never to leave you alone. It made their hearts light when they would notice you mouthing along with the words, doing the hand choreography, or wiping a straying teardrop from your cheek.
It was time for the final song, and the squeal you let out once they got into their starting positions made Wooyoung and Hongjoong chuckle. It was a song that Atiny took many different ways, but for the situation between the nine of you, it was about having you get out of the cold and darkness of being alone in the world and allowing Ateez to become your warmth and light.
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The moment your friend announced the day your life came to a screeching halt was the first time since they found you in the garage that you finally had no eyes on you. While it gave you a chance to breathe, it also felt odd. 
Taking the chance to look around, you notice the shock on their faces as they stare at Cindy like she has grown another head. Clearly, the news of your past was not what they expected to hear. It’s rare to hear of someone having a dead soulmate and living to tell the tale. 
“I know this may seem like a stupid question, but” Jongho starts to speak before he is interrupted by Wooyoung.
“No, no. Let’s start with a non-stupid question… what do you mean Y/n has a soulmate already?” asks the worldwide playboy. 
Looking at Cindy and Kat, you beg them with your eyes not to be the one to explain what happened. A wave of guilt, heartache, and failure is starting to crush your chest. It had been a while since you had thought about the events of that day. 
It’s Kat who finally starts telling the beginning of your devastating story. You resign to an understanding that the eight men around you will change their thoughts of being your soulmates if they know all the details. 
“Darren Donahue. Y/n and Darren were instant friends when she transferred to our school in the middle of 3rd grade. They were inseparable all through the rest of elementary school and into high school,” says Kat.
Your mind supplements Kat’s regaling with images of Darren with his natural blonde hair in a cut like Jonathan Taylor Thomas from Home Improvement. His almond-shaped crystal-blue eyes always held his emotions clearer than the night sky. He was always shorter than you, but that was his appeal to you. He was pocket-sized, and although short, he held a strength that could rival anyone, especially if you were in danger. Unfortunately, that determination was his ultimate weakness. 
“After growing up with soulmates as parents,” Kat continues. “I had an innate understanding of how to spot soulbonds or possibilities. It was resoundingly clear that there was a potential bond between them. Darren was a year older than Y/n when he turned 18 and could finally connect with his soulmate if he had one… but he never even looked.”
“Darren had asked Y/n’s mom to take her out for her 18th birthday. By that time, he had told several of us that his heart knew she would be his,” said Cindy as she squeezed your thigh. “All of us were supportive because we all agreed. Sure, there was a chance that we were all wrong. Ever since… we kind have wished we were.”
All you could do was shrink under the weight of the words Cindy left unsaid. You can remember happily agreeing to dinner at Caza De Pizza and catching ‘Now You See Me 2’ afterward. The movie was set to be over right around midnight. You were so excited to see if you and your family were correct in thinking that Darren was your soulmate. Now you wish you had waited to find out at school on Wednesday morning. 
Your dark thoughts are interrupted when Hongjoong calls your name, asking, “Y/n, how did you know that Darren was your soulmate? Did you bond?” 
Nodding, you put up your arm and rest it on the table to show a long, lightening-like, ragged scar running along your inner elbow from the middle of your forearm to just above your elbow. “He was with me at midnight when I turned 18. I gained my soulmate ability to feel emotions right away, but I don’t know what he was because we never got to...” your voice cuts out as the ghost of his death engulfs your body.
It wasn’t just the pain of his death that haunted you but the joy of seeing your soulmate mark form on your arm as proof that you were his. The avalanche of love, devotion, passion, and pride came with it, and you quickly realized it wasn’t just your emotions but also Darren’s. 
However, those happy feelings lasted for about five seconds before you were shoved to the side, and a piercing pain tore through your chest that caused you to look up from the mark to watch as blood pooled from his chest. Your memories of that night are always silent, never hearing the gunfire, the screams of you and the witnesses, and the lost words mumbling from Darren’s lips as the burn of a soulmate dying floods your system at his last breath.
San's rapid movement brings you back to the present as he practically growls at his manager, “We can’t leave her right now. It won’t be suitable for any of us. Things are already strained as they are.”
With an epic side eye given to you from Jongho, he says, “San-hyung, we don’t understand what is happening. It could be stress and timing that is causing all of this.” 
It didn’t surprise you that one of them was already against you, adding to their well-rounded soulmate bond after it had been formed for years. What shocks you is that San looks like he is about to start a round of fisticuffs with his already-bonded soulmate.
“Excuse me?!!?” demands San, turning his attention to Jongho. 
This isn’t good. Fighting isn’t good for bonds, much less for a world-famous K-pop band that must leave to perform for thousands of fans like they did last night. “Go,” you say with as much strength as you can.
Looking briefly at San as he stares down the youngest member, you try to explain, “You need to be there for Atiny tonight just like you were there for us last night. I cannot be the reason for anything that affects the show or makes you all late. You did fine without me before. It’s not like I will be any help now.”
A slight tug on your chest comes before Yeosang says, “Things have changed, Y/n. You made contact with San-ah and Seonghwa-hyung, meaning the soul-bonding has started with the two of them and yourself.”
Jongho scoffs at Yeosang’s explanation of how the bond is forming. Hongjoong adds, “Once a soul-bonding starts in a group, it is fragile until the rest of the group bonds. It doesn’t finalize until everyone accepts it, though.”
“You mean she has to follow you around now? Until everyone accepts her and vice versa?” asks Kat. “How will that work and not end up all over Dispatch or TMZ?”
“I can help with that, Miss Kat,” a young man says, stepping up from the corner dressed like he got caught up in the group and doesn’t belong in this meeting. “I am Mathew and I have been assigned to you three as a personal bodyguard for the remainder of your trip.”
“Excuse me?” exclaims Kat. This new guy has already made the mistake of calling Kat a miss, but the question is, why would we need security?
“I will explain later, Kat, before we leave the hotel,” intervenes Cindy, always the mediator. “How can you help?”
Watching the young man as he thinks, you can’t help but notice how much presence he does have. His clothes may make him look like the Emo Guy USA 2024 winner, but you think it is a perfect disguise for someone to be undercover at a concert. 
“Tonight, I was supposed to have the night to watch the concert from the crowd,” the non-security-security guy starts. “If we could get tickets for the three of them seated with me, we could attend the concert and reduce the distance between them all.”
“She would have to be closer than she was last night since the bonding has started,” Mingi says. “Since we cannot have her on stage with us and hiding her backstage will pull the three of us in the wrong direction, she will have to be practically stage side like the photographers or VVIP.”
This is going to be too much. You can’t suddenly have VVIP tickets. Those are limited to the number of seats available. You are about to say something when Seonghwa says, “Y/n, I know that this is probably more than you ever thought you have to deal with, but after tonight’s concert, we don’t have to be at the next stop until Thursday morning. We could sleep on it and talk in the morning?”
Seonghwa’s boba eyes look hopeful and endearing as he waits for your answer, but the ice shooting from Jongho's death stare behind him keeps any words from making it past your throat. Understanding the need to answer your elders, you want to answer. However, the desire to not cause more conflict between the bonded soulmates causes you to turn away from the two.
“I'm sorry, but we really must leave,” their manager quietly says. “What do you ladies want to do?”
“We will go to the concert tonight. I think it has been a lot, and it has all happened a bit too fast,” Cindy answers for the three of you. “Let us talk to her, just us, and we will see you at the concert or afterward. If you could have someone show us our room for tonight, we could talk about things until you want us to go to the concert.”
“Mathew-ssi, please?” orders Hongjoong. 
As Ateez remains quiet and in the room, Mathew, plus a few other guards, escort you, Cindy, and Kat out of the conference room. A few moments later, their manager joins the small gathered group. 
“If you would follow me,” he asks, guiding you to the lobby. “The boys are all on the same floor, the tour entourage is on the floor below, and the security detail is roomed throughout both floors. The floor the boys are on is completely bought out so we will get you keys to one of those rooms.”
Tugging on Cindy’s sleeve, you shake your head to get her to stop this nonsense. She, however, smiles and turns to the manager. “That would be great! I think we can make do with one room as long as there are two beds.”
“Cindy!” you hiss. Kat takes your arm and pulls you along to the elevator, humming some song with a look of contentment. 
How can Kat look like that when you are going through this!? Why is Cindy letting this go on?! The three of you know this will end badly. They will learn you are damaged goods and realize you are too much to deal with.
“We will wait for you outside,” says the emo boy as he shuts a door. 
Looking around, you noticed you had lost track of time and movement again. You were inside a huge room. It had two queen-sized beds on one side, a walk-in closet, a kitchenette, and a door that you could only assume led to a bathroom that would put yours to shame. 
“Earth to Y/n,” Cindy calls as she sits on one of the couches off to the side with a large TV screen. “What’s going on with that head of yours?”
Making your way to the other couch, you take a moment because where were you? You wanted to run away in the garage but ended up in the conference room. You got lost in what happened all those years ago, and now you were supposed to see night two at BMO stadium with eight Korean Idols claiming to be your soulmate… well, seven.
“I… I don’t know,” you finally answer.
Kat sits beside Cindy before saying, “This isn’t going to be easy, Y/n. Having second-chance soulmates is nearly impossible, but this is a chance for you to be happy again. It’s been eight years since it happened.”
“Yeah, eight years since someone murdered my soulmate instead of me,” you cut in. “Eight years since Darren got shot because they thought it would be a good idea for an initiation. It… it..”
“It also has been eight years since you survived, Y/n,” adds Cindy. “You had the bond, mark, and death of your soulmate happen in less than a minute. It takes a strong person to live through that. It is also a strong person that would be able to handle a bond with eight other people, especially as their focus.”
The thought of being the focus of a bonded soulmate group didn’t even cross your mind. Being a focus was more than just being another soulmate in a bond. The point of a focus was to keep the bond together. If something happened to a group bond’s focus, then…
“Don’t go to the bad things first, Y/n,” Cindy interrupts your spiraling thoughts. “Being a focus isn’t a bad thing. In a typical bond, like Dave and I, we complete each other. What Ateez has is like a ship without a sail; they have all the parts to float and keep their heads above the water, but they need their focus soulmate, you, to set sail and discover what the world has waiting for them.”
“But I am a tattered sail,” you mumble. “I would only flap in the wind like a flag instead of giving them strength to ride the waves. Like, going to the concert tonight… why are we going? If this whole thing is true won’t they be too distracted by the pull to perform right?”
A knock on the wall brings your attention to the personal security guard emo guy. “We have secured your tickets. We will enter with the soundcheck VVIPs for security purposes but leave before the send-off. I took the liberty of obtaining some basic cosmetics and other toiletries if you wanted to be more concert-like. My sister always says concert wear and day wear are two different animals.”
Kat stands up and retrieves the bag from the guy, saying, “Thank you, Mathew. How much time do we have before we have to leave?” 
“About an hour,” he responds before nodding and leaving.
Pawing through the bag, Kat hums in approval. “Well, I think you have men ready to accept fate with arms wide open. This is a chance for you to live how you were supposed to live all those years ago. Besides,” Kat pulls out a pallet of eyeshadows, “if getting Cle de Peau Beaute is considered basic makeup then sign me up in your place. PLLLEEEAAASSSEEE”
You laugh at Kat’s love for expensive things, but it does catch your attention. You may only sometimes be on point with knowing most couture designers, but you were the go-to among your friends and coworkers when it came to makeup, and Cle de Peau Beaute lipstick alone can run over $100. 
The following 45 minutes are spent looking up the prices of what was in the bag, trying not to gag at the $270 1 oz foundation that matched your skin tone, and accepting that you would be treated like something precious.
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When the three of you were in yet another van, you didn’t look like you were crying just a few hours ago, and you felt like someone who could afford the VVIP tickets you were being gifted. Mathew, the emo guy, went over some safety things– like he was a friend of Kat’s, but Ji-ho and Ha-Joon were friends of Mathew’s, and no one was supposed to leave the group alone. 
Arriving at BMO was strange because you were brought in what you learned was the artist entry and taken to your seats just as the other VVIPs were being let in for the soundcheck. To the surprise of the three of you, you had excellent front-row seats at the bridge area off the other side of where you were last night. This meant you wouldn’t have to deal with people blocking your view but also that you didn’t have anyone to hide behind.  
“Stop your thinking and enjoy,” scolds Cindy. “They are big boys. They know the difference between work and play. Right now, it’s time for them to work. You’ll see.”
The next moment, you become deaf as the girl behind you cuts loose a scream like she was getting eaten by a shark. Following her line of sight, the boys take the stage, and the world around you narrows to just them. 
First out is the flirt master Wooyoung, in black jeans and a black tank top. San looks like a professor with his dress pants and white button-up. Yeosang follows with blue jeans and a tucked-in tour sleeveless shirt to show off his tiny waist and muscular physique without trying too hard. Jongho looks like he is going to the mall with his dark pants and jean oversized shirt with straps hanging everywhere. Hongjoong is the epitome of the Beverly Hills dad in the world with his cuffed jeans and black and white Art Deco flowered shirt. Yunho went boyfriend-coded with what looks like a Michigan State jacket and baggy pants. Mingi makes your jaw drop in his black-on-black with silver jewelry and looks like the complete fuck boi. Last comes Seonghwa, with his effortless black tee shirt and sand-washed jeans and his hair in a pony, as if he didn’t spend 30 minutes with someone making sure each hair was in the right place. 
The boys go to the bridge and greet the Atinys for the soundcheck. You noticed that Seonghwa, San, and Mingi found you as they went to their places. Only Mingi waved, and the Atiny around you got excited like he just threw money at them. You couldn’t help but blush at his attention because outside of you, Cindy, Kat, Mathew, Ha-Joon, and Ji-ho, no one else knew it was meant for you.   
The soundcheck ended up different from what you expected. They wandered almost aimlessly around, singing songs and waving to the crowd. The choreography wasn’t consistently done. None of the men on the stage could help but move out of muscle memory or get the crowd riled up occasionally. You couldn’t help but sing along to the parts you knew and dance with Kat, your resident K-pop Dance challenge master. 
When the eight gathered again, you figured it was over, and it was time to take your seat. However, Hongjoong seems to have other ideas. “Wow,” he exclaimed. “One thing I have noticed is we have a lot of good singers out here, but do you all know how to dance?” 
The crowd went wild as usual, including you and Kat. You were hoping the next song was one you could dance to without looking like a newborn deer or a lost child. 
“Let’s see… Seonghwa,” the captain calls the eldest soulmate out of the lineup, “Do you think you can show a little move of the next song?”
The other six members' reactions confuse you because they all look like this wasn’t part of the original plan. The stage crew is talking rapidly into walkie-talkies, as Hwa says, “I think Atiny really loves this move.” 
The moment Seonghwa pulls the most stilted version of the driving dance, all of Atiny's present goes even wilder, and the crew starts running around like chickens with no heads. You and Kat move along with him as you try to remember the song's name to which it goes. 
Over the screams, Kat leans into and says, “It’s from Say My Name. Mathew says Captain is going off script by adding this song, which isn’t unusual.” You nod to let Kat know you hear them, and the two of you dance to the song as much as you can since it is one of your favorites. 
When it comes to an end, it is a simple see you later from the boys as they go backstage to get ready for the night. Taking your seat, you look around at how some other Atiny have dressed this time. You are happy that you are at least wearing a tour sweater and got a chance to spruce yourself up. Part of you wished that the boy could have seen you in your pirate-themed outfit from yesterday, but at the same time, you were glad they didn’t.
“Excuse me, are you Miss Y/n?” A man approaches you and is abruptly cut off by Ha-Joon.  Stepping back, the man looks at you and Ha-Joon before continuing, “I was informed that some of our VVIPs didn’t get their exclusive merch bags. Two regular and one special.”
Taking the bags, Ha-Joon has a smirk on his face when he turns around. He hands the two clear bags that match the rest of the VIPs around you to Cindy and Kat, then hands you another that doesn’t match. Kat and Cindy start pulling out tiny things from their bags. The first thing you must pull out of the bag is a new tour hoodie, followed by a matching beanie. Dropping the bag on your seat, you immediately pull off the hoodie you got from Facebook Marketplace and put on the new one.
“Hey, ours didn’t come with those,” teases Kat, pointing at the sweater before she reaches into the bag and pulls out a Mingi picket. “Huh, Seonghwa had better watch his place as your bias because Mr. Song here seems to be starting with the spoiling part.”
You blush at the thought. Sitting down, you take the picket and look at the image of Mingi, remembering his determination during the meeting to keep you close to the eight of them. He hasn’t even touched you to initiate the soulmate bond, but he looks and reacts as if the bond is already complete. Is this what it means to have a soulmate and to be their focus?
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You were happy that Be:First opened for Ateez again so you could see them this time. You loved their collaboration. It was a unique way of blending the two groups while keeping them as their own. You didn’t know any of their other songs, so you sat through their set and enjoyed the ebb and flow.
BBTRIPPIN came out and started the show. Because BMO screwed up, you had missed seeing their dance sequence, but it was not surprising how good they were. What surprised you was the Dark Knight costumes the boys wore as they entered the stage. You couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter at how the color accented their skin tone and made them look like a force to be reckoned with. 
When Crazy Form kicked off, the three of you were on your feet, moving, grooving, and badly singing in Korean. The thoughts of these eight men began to fade into the background. Having the other Atiny with you and seeing how engrossed the bonded group was with their performances, opening-ments, and each other let you remain a fan in the crowd. 
You missed the lingering glances, the minor angle changes, and the special words the boys had meant for you and you alone. You focused more on enjoying the complementary waters and snacks in the bottom of your bags. Luckily, Mathew had also thought ahead and brought you some pain medications. 
What you didn’t miss was the look from the Atiny who saw the extra things in your bag, the teasing smirks from your friends, or the great view of Ateez’s asses during Halazia. While the view was ass-tronomical, you were happiest seeing the musicality flow through their being. 
It’s about halfway through the show when Jongho is singing his solo. You knew his voice was beautiful and underrated by so many before Hongjoong stole him away. Listening to the youngest member of the bonded soulmates' serenade made you think about how hard you cried when you looked up the English translation. You ended up playing it on a loop for days, thinking of how Darren was supposed to be your everything and what you wouldn’t give to see him just once more. 
You couldn't look away as Jongho sang the song from the top of the staircase, expecting the tears to fall again and the darkness to take over. As you watched him, it felt like every negative feeling was being taken away. The turbulence and apprehension from today, the internal ridicule, agony, and disgrace of your past, were just gone.
Watching Jongho walk down the stairs at the end of his song, you know he can see you in the crowd. The look in his eyes isn’t one you have seen from him before. Only Seonghwa, San, and Mingi have looked at you like this, and it makes you want to follow him backstage to learn what it means. Your heart skips a beat as he holds your gaze just a second longer before he turns away. 
The stage lights change and the music starts for Wooyoung’s piece, drawing everyone's attention to the island at the end of the bridge. You, however, are left with a calm sense of emptiness as you watch the stage door. The sounds of the concert are gone, and all that is left is the sound of your heartbeat. It’s the first time that you start to believe that maybe, just maybe– they were right. 
You attempt to enjoy the rest of the show, but you can’t help but study the eight men on the stage. How well they complement each other shows that they must have polarizing abilities. The light in their eyes allows anyone, Atiny or not, to know they are living their dream and not being forced on stage. 
So, where would you fit in as the odd woman out?
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“Excuse me, Miss? We have to go to the van now,” Ji-Ho instructs as Atiny starts to make their way out of the stadium. You nod and follow. Kat and Cindy have already figured something must have happened as they can see the wheels turning in your head. 
Mathew comes up to the front with you and explains that for safety reasons, the three of you will not be at the send-off, but due to the strain of having you separate from the already bonding soulmates, you will be traveling together. He leads you through what feels like a maze of metal under the stage and behind some fake walls before coming out a side door and to the vans. You can tell you are close to the send-off because of the deafening screams, and the pull on your chest seems lighter. 
Inside the van, you notice two rows of bench seats, one slightly shorter than the other,  and two captain’s chairs in the back, causing you to pause. “Umm, where should we sit?” you ask. 
“I didn’t know you could get vans with… seven seats in the back,” comments Kat before she jumps in and heads to the far back bench. 
You go to follow, only to have Cindy push your butt onto the short bench. “Nope,” she says, wagging her finger when you scowl at her. “You have at least two joining us, and you need to sit with them.”
You are about to reply when a single scream of “MINGI MARRY ME” hits a new level you never thought possible. The three of you burst out laughing as you watched the newly propositioned Idol run out of the stadium and into the first van, followed by Hongjoong, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang.
Mathew silently laughs as he sits with Cindy and Kat in the back row, leaving the bench seat with you and the two captain chairs for San, Seonghwa, and Jongho. The three of them walk to the van, to you, at a more measured pace, and they pin you in your seat with their eyes. 
You scoot to the far side of the bench seat, making room for San to take the seat next to you as he was the one who reached the door first, but to your surprise, he sat in the captain’s chair in front of you. Seonghwa took the other captain’s chair. Leaving Jongho to sit next to you, his eyes never leaving yours as you looked at the two bonding soulmates. 
You can hear a ‘hmph’ from behind you and know you weren’t the only one taken back by the seating choice. However, that is the only sound made as the door shuts and the van returns to the hotel. You can feel that someone is looking at you, but you can feel the tension more than ever.
“Miss Y/n, did you enjoy the show?” asks Jongho, breaking the silence. 
Looking at him, you suck in a breath, thinking of an answer. His eyes search yours as if he is asking about something more than the show. “Mr. Choi,” you start, then blanch, looking at San, who is also a Mr. Choi.  “Ahh.. Younger Mr. Choi..”
“Jongho, please. Jongho is fine, please,” the younger man says with a smile. Nodding, you glance at Seonghwa to see him smiling softly as well. 
“Jongho-ssi, I enjoyed the show, it was different and I never thought I would ever see a concert that close in my life,” you admit. 
“Different, how?” prods San. “We did the same songs.”
“That’s true, but you wore different clothes.” You can’t help but glance at Seonghwa again with a blush as you remember his leather strap shirt and purple velvet outfit. 
Smirking, Hwa leaned forward, pointed at your clear purse bag, and said, “We agreed to wear the purple because you seem to like that color. Yeosang thought the Dark Knight costumes to open would be appropriate as well.”
Giggling can be heard from the backseat before Kat says, “Oh, that was a great decision. You should reward him for that. Y/n’s favorite color is purple and black, not to mention she has a thing for leather.”
Turning around, you swat at your friend and say through gritted teeth, “Shut! Up!” However, it has the opposite effect, and the two start laughing so much that the rest of the van joins in as you feel your face heat up. 
“I see how it is,” you glare, turning back to Seonghwa. “Mr. Park,” you grin. “If Hongjoong or Yeosang ever need fancams from this weekend, they can reach out to Kat and Cindy respectively.”
“Hey! Why am I getting dragged into this?” exclaims Cindy, which brings in even more laughter and breaks all the tension. 
“To be honest, I want to say thank you for letting us attend again and not shove us in a green room somewhere,” you say after catching your breath. “I was.. I was excited that I could see you all even once.”
“We are glad you could see us too,” adds San. “But why do I feel like there is something else?”
Your eyes widen slightly at the fact he could tell. Looking between the three of them, you finally say, “I wanted to see you sing Star 1117. Well that and I missed seeing you guys dance Halazia last night and then tonight you guys were facing away when you danced it so…yeah..”
The bonded mates look at each other and start muttering in Korean, leaving you out of the loop. They don’t seem particularly upset by their expressions, but they aren’t happy either. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything; keep your mouth shut and not complain. They have been doing this for years, and it isn’t your place to say anything anyway. 
It isn’t until Mathew and Kat jump in that you feel really lost. Glancing back at Cindy, she shrugs at you before leaning forward, “Maybe you should sign up for lessons.”
“Lessons?” Jongho asks, catching what Cindy said. 
Your eyes widen as Cindy says, “If she is going to be your focus, then she needs to learn to communicate with you all.” That catches Seonghwa and San’s attention as the van goes silent.
“You don’t know Korean?” inquires San.
Shaking your head, you answer, “Nope. I only know the typical K-drama watcher quotes. I… ahh, I am new to Korean stuff in general. These two dragged me into K-pop after they realized how bad things got after…”
“So, you are a baby Atiny? That’s awesome! We can teach you so much,” San says with a smile. “Most of us know enough English to get by, but don’t worry, we are all taking lessons, and either we can get you into lessons or teach you ourselves.”
“Hongjoong and San are the best at English,” adds Seonghwa. “If you need help you can always talk to one of them.”
You simply nod. The implications of them already planning a future with you are causing conflict for you. Their explicit acceptance of having another soulmate is a blessing, but accepting that acceptance when you had given up on ever being whole again is hard. 
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The rest of the car ride is filled with small conversations, half in English and half in Korean. You tried to participate but just left it to everyone else. Once back at the hotel, you excused yourself quickly to your room with some flimsy excuse of needing the bathroom before the bonded soulmates could get out of the van. 
Cindy and Kat caught up with you in the lobby and picked up their manager along the way. The manager was talking with Cindy about logistics for tomorrow and getting them to their flight, so his presence didn’t bother you. The four of you went to the room you got ready in.
You did find yourself in the bathroom splashing your face with water. The day's weight was on your shoulders, but since Jongho’s song, it hasn’t crushed you like it was in the conference room. Sitting on the toilet, you pull out your phone and look up group soul bonds. 
+ Group soul bonds are believed to be formed because one or more of the soulmates within the group have experienced a trauma or injury to their soul, which causes fractures. The science behind this splintering of the soul is still being researched. + Group soul bonds are bonds between multiple soulmates. It is believed that a group bond can consist of  3 to 25 soulmates. Groups over nine tend to have a looping soul connecting one bonded group to another.  + Group soul bonds consisting of more than four soulmates must have a focus for the group to be considered complete; without the focus, a soulmate group will face mental and emotional damage over time. It is typically the passive ability-enabled soulmates that will fall to these damages sooner rather than later.  + Group soul bond’s focus is considered a central point for bonded soulmates. The name focus is used synonymously with core and heart. The other bonded soulmates must pay close attention to the soulmate who becomes the focus and maintain a consistent or relative closeness. Disconnections or distance from the focus over time will become more tolerable, but it is not recommended to maintain them for extended periods.   
Knock knock knock
“Yo! I am hungry. Get out here and come with us to raid the hotel convenience store,” yelled Kat. 
Closing your phone and tucking it away, you open the door, “You always are hungry. You literally ate like half the snacks from my bag. How can you eat more?” you tease them.
Grabbing your hand, Kat whines, “That was all like sugar stuff that has burnt off by now. You know I can’t sleep well with an empty stomach. Come on, I am sure they will have some kind of protein bar or fruit.”
Rolling your eyes, you take your hand back and start heading to the door. “Fine, but I am not paying, and you owe me coffee in the morning!” you call back, not waiting for anyone to follow you. You don’t see the sneaky smiles on Cindy, Kat, and Ateez’s manager’s face as they quickly follow you.
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The elevator conversion is easy as it returns to the concert and all the Atiny outfits, reactions to the boys, and song choices. Their manager is a nice guy, funny too. You wouldn’t think someone with his sense of humor would be an Idol Manager instead of a comedian, but you guess he likes to stay behind the scenes. 
Finally arriving on the correct floor, you follow the manager down the hall to the store. As Cindy makes an impression of one of the Atiny who practically lost her voice from screaming during the encore, you nod thanks to the man holding the door. Walking in, you glance back at her, laughing and saying, “You would have thought Yunho was doing more than dancing on the stage with how loudly she was losing her shit over him standing there.”
When you face the front, you finally notice how dark the room is except for the single spotlit chair. You stop dead in your tracks as you wonder what the hell is going on. 
When you look back and see them standing at the door, Cindy breaks the silence, saying, “Remember everything we talked about in the hotel room. Dave completes me. You deserve to be complete, too.”
Taking your hand and pulling you to the only chair in the room, Kat says, “Eight of them can be overwhelming, but I believe each holds a piece of your soul that you lost when it shattered.”
From behind you, their manager adds, “I have known these boys for more than anyone else, and I have never seen a more dedicated soulmate group in my life, Miss Y/n. Listen with your heart to what they have planned.” 
With that, the three left the ballroom. 
As the lights went on, you sat straight in the chair, your heart beating a million miles a minute. Could you listen with your heart? Were you willing to allow these eight men to try and complete you? Would you be able to handle being their focus? Their heart of the bond?
Soft steps are all you hear before Mingi's unmistakable, rough but soulful voice starts singing without any music, and the floor lights come up. Here they are, all eight of them dressed in your favorite costumes from the shows. You knew they had to be tired after going back-to-back with shows. All you could see was longing, hope, tenderness, and willingness.  
Mingi’s eyes never leave you as he sings one of the most meaningful songs he and Hongjoong have ever written for Atiny. You recognized it immediately as it was one of the first Ateez ballads you had heard. You knew what the song meant from interviews. It was a song about finding love in the stars, finding their destiny, and protecting it– protecting you.
As Star 1117 ends, music fills as the men get closer to you. You brace for the feeling of being cornered to take over you that never comes. The most accepting and closed-off members stand right before you and begin singing a song you had only heard a few times because they performed it on a couple of shows. You don’t know the name, but you can remember words and phrases as they sing: Who are you? We were meant to be one, and the dark knight is shining; we’re shining in it. It takes you back at how honestly Jongho sings his parts; maybe he isn’t closed off at the idea of you anymore. 
Tilting your head back, you try to keep the tears from falling. You may not know Korean, but your heart, mind, body, and soul don’t seem to have the same language barrier. Their energies fill you as they move around you. While you cannot understand what you are feeling, you know the mix of deep emotions is not just emotions of your own. Closing your eyes for just a moment, you remember what your friends said to you – maybe it is time to be complete. 
When you finally look back at the soulmates, they are standing in a formation you haven’t seen in a long time as one of their older songs starts pumping you up and bringing a smile to your face. The song Promise was one of your favorite early songs of the band. When you first heard it, you thought either Hongjoong or Mingi had met their soulmate, and this was a song they wrote in dedication to them. Now you know, while that may have very much been true, they are singing it now to make a promise to you. 
Emotions overwhelm you as you do your best to mouth the words along with them, not wanting to ruin their harmonization with your botched Korean. Happy tears start to fall as you lean into the song and the pressure in your chest, no longer completely frightened by what you think is where the bond will hold to you. 
Thinking the mini-show is over, you watch them all gather in front of you and mill around. It isn’t until they all stop and you notice their positions that you let out a very embarrassing squawk, which turned into a series of ‘oh my god’s and clapping when you heard your absolute favorite song from the show, that you had complained about not seeing well, was about to be danced less than two feet from you. 
It was one of their songs that you knew every word, every move, and you couldn’t believe they would be doing this song for you. This song was the song that pulled you out of your depression after Darren was murdered. The song caught your heart with its words, your eye with their stunning visuals, and your soul with the timber of their voices. 
Midway through the song, you realize what these songs mean to the eight soulmates looking for you to be their focus and their heart, but your mind still has the dark voice telling you that someone like you cannot be strong enough for them. 
However, your soul starts whispering to you, telling you to find guidance with Hongjoong and home in Seonghwa, make Yunho a pillar and Mingi your solace, seek safety from San and security beside Wooyoung, and obtain tranquility through Yeosang and foundation with Jongho.
Maybe you don’t have to be strong enough for them…they have to be strong enough for you.
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d3vdgvrlll · 11 hours ago
Text
trauma ig
@gorelvr and anyone else who wanted it
i’ll start from the begining because it’s the one thing that will make my story similar to others. it will have a begining and an end just like anyone else’s. i have been sexually abused since i was seven years old. my cousin joe (obv not his real name i was in israel at the time) he was considerably older than me. 13, not too bad, but at the time it felt like a worlds difference. it didn’t start slowly, not at all, and pieces of it i don’t even remember. i do remember closets tho. it wasn’t just an rape either. he wanted me to like it- either that or he was just sadistic. he would make me smile and beg for it, make me please him as a lover, told me it was right since i was his blood. in fact, he would draw this blood quite often. he would pinch me, beat me, cut me, anything to make me cry, because he had a rule. if i cried, he could come back to use me again. he would do anything to draw out a mere sound of discomfort, anything, any excuse so that he could come into my room at night and violate me. he called me his wife. he called me his girl. and in my native tongue i had to tell him i loved him as well. when i was 9, after two years of this, with no one believing me (and if you ask how it’s possible, youve clearly never heard of arabic jewish culture-) i move to america. i lived in chicago, and suddenly, i was a normal girl. sure, i couldn’t speak english but i was clean. no longer dirty. i was far away from joe and i thought maybe id be far from the pain too. i was far from the bombs that rang in my ears as i walked home, the desolate shelters littered around playgrounds, the constant whisper of “you are never safe” far behind me. i was ahead of everyone else, and when i heard that another one of my childhood friends died of an attack, it didn’t feel better, but at least it wasn’t me. at least it wasn’t me.
this is where i met a friend named lucie. she was the first female friend id ever had. my wonderful grandma, who was like a second mother to me (at the time when she was alive my mother was still kind, the lines on her face less pronounced, her words filled with less poison) signed me up for swimming classes with lucie. after swimming class, me and lucie would shower together. it’s started off because i had conditioner that she needed for her blond hair, conditioner that i was willing to give up to her because she was so much whiter than me, so much purer. she then asked me for favors. to touch her. she’s press me against the wall and kiss me, and when i resisted, she wouldn’t even react. she asked me for more. she said “if you do it well this time, you won’t have to do it again.” and “kiss me for longer this time, you only did two seconds, you promised ten” and each request, no matter how hard it was for me to do, was done. and each time, there came another. no matter how much she promised it’d be the last one, there was always more. i couldn’t get away from it. i was trapped. i was scared, and i wanted her to be my friend. she taught me that if u don’t give people ur body, they won’t stay. she taught me that im worthless besides what i can offer to others. she taught me everything i know and live by, and then she left anyways .
seventh grade- i had a very nice science teacher. i was doing very well in his class. his name i really cannot say because he is still teaching at the school in illinois, and no one has believed me, no matter what i insist happened. we were doing a bridge project. i was failing, because my grandma was dying. she was dying, and she was my everything. watching her- it was the hardest thing i’d ever done. but i couldn’t avert my eyes because it felt sinful. it felt wrong to look away because it was hard to watch- she was my grandma after all, the one who raised me, loved me, showed me the good in the world. so i watched. i watched and stayed with her and read her books she couldn’t hear me reciting while she lay in her hospice bed barely breathing. i wrote down the stories she told me through her tubes, and i tried to imagine that the wires connected to her were flowers instead, that she was somewhere were her grimace was rlly a smile. she stayed alive until my birthday, my 12th birthday, because she didn’t want to ruin it. she stayed alive, in pain, riddled with so much terror, to see me turn 12. one day, i walked into her room and spoke to her, and watching her eyes try to open, her oxygen intake spike up, her stiff limbs try to reach me- it killed me. i love her and always will. it feels awful to group her with this awful man- my science teacher, but in this story they do go together, unlike in real life where my grandma was such a big and powerful woman she always stood alone. or with me. i digress, the man- let’s call him Mr.P- he failed me. i was excelling- frankly, because im very smart and quite good with physics and such, but he still failed me. (shortly after this whole ordeal i was neurologically tested and i have an IQ of 156). i walked into his class one day, and all i can remember is him smiling, saying that he would give me an oppurtunity for extra credit, but that it had to be secret- you can tell where this is going. i had already learned from lucie that nothing is good abt me besides my body, and so when he took mine, the second person to- i could just sit and cry. at least this man let me cry- at least this one didn’t kill my hair to get a reaction, with the promise of hurting me more the less i liked it. i don’t remember much besides my face being pressed against vents on the side of the classroom. i would “wake up” (ptsd) with blood between my thighs, and cuts on my face from the metal on the vents, because of how hard he shoved my face in them. he had a daughter- she was 6 at the time. when i graduated, he told me he’d do the same to her. that was the first time i cut myself. because i knew i couldn’t stop him. i knew that i couldn’t do anything. i knew that what lucid taught me was wrong. my body wasn’t even special- it wasn’t even “worth it”, it was just available.
i moved all over the US, living in austin, chicago, colorado, and florida for the longest times. chicago was my home though, and i know the city like the back of my hand. this is not something many people can say, but i survived being homeless in chicago during the polar vortex. for those who don’t know, the polar vortex is a phenomena that happens every year. winds from the arctic pass through canada and end up in the midwest, chilling the air to roughly -58 degrees F or lower. after my grandma died, my mother became mean. angry. she scared me. she hit me. it’s too much to get into and frankly, i live with her and my dad now and i feel odd talking abt it. it’s my current reality as well, but what i learned from them is that words mean nothing. so i wont spend them here. after a week of being homeless and running to and from school, living in an underpass, someone started walking “home” with me. his name was pat. this is the man i often reference in posts. he was my best friend, not at this time tho. we walked home together for weeks, not speaking a word to each other, until one day i caught an awful case of pneumonia, the second time id fallen ill with it in the month. this time, i couldn’t walk, stand, breathe, or talk. i was passed out when he found me, at least that’s what he told me. he said he carried me to his friends house and that’s were they saved me. his friends name was biscuit, and biscuit ended up being a huge drug dealer. he kept me in his attic- it had a hole in the roof but it was better than dying in the cold. i had already lost my left foot to frostbite- i still can’t feel it but i can walk on it now, which is better than before. in the attic, and idk much abt it because rlly the memory is so hazy- sometimes i wake up in a cold sweat bc im back there, and sometimes idk if im dreaming or if its real- but rlly truly i dont know for sure what happened. all i know is that biscuit used to bring his friends up there, while i was healing (they put tons of drugs in me idek what they used to help me get better but im pretty sure it was a combo of depressants and steroids)- they would pass me around. i just get hazes- visions sort of. i dont even remember. i remeber the feeling of their hands tho, and suddenly feeling a lot colder, feeling the wind on my bare skin. i remember waking up with wind rash and scabs from cigarette burns. i don’t remeber enough o accuse anyone of anything though, so i didn’t mention it to pat. in my head, he didn’t even know. i was wrong ofcourse- he knew. he always knew.
when we got better and went back to our respective homes, we stayed very close. we formed a trauma bond. codependcy. it was wonderful while it lasted, but soon, he started to fall for me. he never raped me, but he did other things. i don’t care to specify at the moment because i fear ive already gone into prolific detail about things i never wanted to think about again. truthfully, i love pat. i do. i hold no hatred towards him, and i really don’t like to talk about all the bad things he did to me, because he was my sweet boy. i never loved him like that- he was just my best friend, but when i speak about him people don’t seem to understand. he understood me, and it’s just. hard to talk about because there’s so much to say. i can’t write it all down in this small part of a bigger story because i have so much to say about him that i’d rather just give it out in pieces. if you see something tagged with #pat or #i miss him, it’s probably about him.
idk what else to say. i’ve been manipulated many times since. used, beat, thrown away. at least pat had the decency to lie to me about it while he did. i’ve never been anyone’s first choice, and i’ve never felt as loved as i did when i had him. he was my best friend, and while this story isn’t about him, it’s hardly about me either. long story short, people used me because they could. i was available. i was around. i used to feel like a victim until i realized im just not special enough to be that. im not special enough to be anything to anyone, and my body wasn’t even “chosen” to be used because its me, it was just convenience. idk. that’s as much as im willing to share. there’s more but - for now this is enough.
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