#I swear there’s an entire backstory for this but I’ve never felt confident enough in my skill to properly put this to paper

[contreparry]

Happy Friday!! A prompt for you: "“For once, this isn’t actually my fault.”" Happy writing <3

This has been an idea I’ve turned over in my head for ages, but I haven’t figured out how to go about it. So why not play with the idea in a drabble? So here’s some fairytale hijinks with Inquisitor Trevelyan and Cullen, for @dadrunkwriting !

Cullen never quite knew what to expect from his new traveling companion. He was used to traveling alone with nothing but his horse for company as he rode from town to town in the backwoods of Ferelden, taking up odd jobs and slaying demons that lurked in the shadows of the abandoned places of the world. Silence was his life, solitude his constant companion. That is, until he came across Evelyn Trevelyan in the wilderness.

She was quiet, courteous, and surprisingly useful. No matter the weather he could count on a roaring fire at camp and a handful of scavenged fruits and nuts to supplement his lean meals, which made his normally spare travels across the realm a little more luxurious. Evelyn was resourceful, and her perspective during their travels was helpful. Never mind her resources! How she made so many friends across Thedas Cullen couldn’t say, but he was grateful for her contacts. Evelyn’s friends saved their skins more times than he could count.

Speaking of help arriving from unexpected places fight- well. Who would have thought that such a tiny thing could pack such power behind her spells? Cullen swiftly learned to heed his companion’s warnings in battle, for when she screamed for him to duck a bolt of lightning or a spear of ice was sure to follow. Evelyn’s healing talents were less impressive, true, but she had a knowledge of herbal remedies that was almost frightening in its depth. One sniff of a plant and she was gone, reciting all its myriad uses as she gleefully wrestled her prizes into a leather pouch for him to store in his saddlebags.

And for all of this, his traveling companion required so little in return. She only asked for his sword in a fight, a spot on his horse as they traveled, and his companionship in the darkest hours of their journey. After all, she’d squeak cheerfully, the world isn’t very kind to a field mouse!

Not that traveling with a talking field mouse who also happened to be a Mage was all sunshine and rainbows, Cullen thought as he closed the door behind him. The inn they were staying in was peaceful, a cheerful little place with plenty of travelers and little trouble. It was where they were supposed to meet one of Evelyn’s many contacts, but the man was late. She hadn’t been concerned at first, insisting that her friend had a tendency for dramatic entrances, but as the sun fell and the fire died in the main fireplace, they had to eventually return to their room without meeting Evelyn’s “dear friend.” It was a complete waste of time, that was what this was! Cullen itched with the urge to do something, anything, that wasn’t staying in one place and waiting! But Evelyn’s friend was their best lead in their hunt for an ancient wizard whose magic had some hand in the problems that plagued the land, so he would have to be patient.

Patience was not one of Cullen’s virtues.

“For once this isn’t actually my fault,” Evelyn insisted when the door firmly shut behind them. Evelyn emerged from the hood of his cloak and clung to his shoulder for purchase. Cullen lowered his arm to rest his hand on the nightstand by the bed, and Evelyn quickly scurried down to stand by the tin candle holder and stub of a candle. Her whiskers bristled indignantly as she placed her front paws on her hips, and her tail lashed back and forth behind her like a blade.

“It’s not like him to break a promise, or an appointment. He’s ever been a dutiful writer, you know. Never late with his letters,” Evelyn fretted. Her paws took up the hem of her moss colored cloak and worried at the threads. She began to pace, almost shaking in agitation. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who was restless here. Cullen sat down on the straw mattress in the bed and rested his forearms on his thighs. He raised his gaze to the nightstand and watched Evelyn pace and mutter. The mouse was nearly vibrating with intensity as she trekked back and forth across the nightstand, and Cullen felt his frustrations melt away in the face of Evelyn’s tumultuous emotions. He was frustrated by a wasted day, but she was concerned over the fate of her friend.

“… what could have delayed him, I wonder,” Cullen eventually mused. The wilds of Ferelden weren’t particularly kind, but if one remained on the roads it was safe enough. But safe enough wasn’t safe, and for a lone traveller on the road the dangers only multiplied.

“Weather, maybe? Maker’s Breath, if Dorian ended up drunk at some noble’s country estate I’ll strangle him myself,” Evelyn muttered, her tail whipping around as she turned on her heel. “He said he’d take better care of himself, he promised me!”

“You’re close, then?”

“Close as one can be when you haven’t met in person,” Evelyn replied. “We’ve been writing letters for nearly two years now, ever since I- hggkkghhhk!” Her chatter was abruptly cut off as some sort of invisible binding clamped down on the mouse’s throat.

It was, as far as Cullen could decipher, an unfortunate side effect of the curse she was under, one that was cast upon her by the wizard they now hunted. It was a sick thing to experiment on a helpless creature, he thought grimly as he poured a few drops of water into a clean thimble for Evelyn to drink from once her coughing fit subsided. What kind of sick bastard cursed a mouse with human speech and magic, then cursed her to keep her mouth shut about the matter? Evelyn grasped the thimble with her paws and drank greedily.

“Better?” he asked. She nodded, her expression grim.

“Blast and drat,” she muttered. “When I get my hands on that-“ Evelyn clamped her mouth shut and said no more. Cullen sighed and bent over to unlace his boots.

“Get some rest,” he advised. “Mayhaps your friend will arrive in the morning.”

“… and if he doesn’t?” Evelyn asked. Her voice was scratchy, as if the curse laid upon her injured her throat in retaliation for her defiance, and anger simmered in his gut. Damn wizards, Cullen thought as Evelyn sipped her water, her moss cloak drawn tight.

“If he doesn’t, we’ll look for him,” Cullen promised. “You said he wouldn’t be far. We can spare a day or two.” And he would. He’d find a damn week if that was what they needed in their search for the wizard that was tearing apart the Fade and cursing the unfortunate wildlife he came across in the process. Evelyn sighed and crawled into the old tin matchbox that served as her bed.

“Good night, Cullen,” she mumbled. Cullen leaned back and stared up at the smoke-stained beams that held up the ceiling. He could only imagine the scenarios running through Evelyn’s mind, situations in which her friend was in danger, or dead, or something even worse. The world was unkind, this they knew well, and if her friend’s delay wasn’t the result of some careless carousing or a natural mishap on the road… Cullen leaned over and blew out the candle on the nightstand. Those worries would have to be tomorrow’s worries. For now…

“Good night, Evelyn,” he murmured into the darkness, and he hoped that all his fears would prove unfounded in the morning.

[death-himself]

Four Human-Eating Monsters and An Apathetic Florist

I got this idea late last night and now have a new AU. This time in DLAMP flavor!

Summary: Virgil finished up a busy day at the flower shop and just wants to go home and chill with his four monster boyfriends (aka Virgil saying monster fucker rights) This is a soulmate AU but that doesn’t get mentioned at all in this

Warnings: Severed limb, food mention, Talk of hunting/eating humans, Slight Suffocation (in like a cuddling way if that’s better?), Drider!Roman, Naga!Janus, Vampire!Patton, Ghoul!Logan (this story is fluff i swear)

Word Count: 1,557

It was five o’clock, which meant it was time for Virgil to close up the flower shop. He went around locking the doors and drawing the blinds over the windows, double and triple-checking as he went. He flipped the sign to Closed on the door as he walked out, walking briskly to his car, slamming the door closed and just sitting there for a moment.

It had been a long day; he was more than ready to just curl up in bed with his soulmates and watch some Netflix for the rest of the night. He smiled at the thought, turning his key in the ignition and pulling out of the parking lot. First he’d have to pick Logan up from the university, though.

He mumbled along to Panic! At the Disco songs as he waited in the university parking lot, staring out the window blankly. After only a few seconds of waiting, out from around a corner came a tall man with long black hair tied back in a ponytail, with unnaturally blue eyes behind thick-rimmed glasses.

He saw Virgil waiting and gave him a small smile and nod, opening the passenger’s side door and taking a seat, closing the door and buckling his seat belt. “Good afternoon, Virgil.”

“Hey, L. How’d it go today?” His sigh said it all.

“It’s almost as if they aren’t even interested in biology. I’ve tried everything, and I’m still unsure of how to teach them.” Virgil started driving again, holding back a smirk.

“You know, my candy idea’s still on the table.”

“They are students of an extremely prestigious university. You truly think that they would pay more attention if candy were on the line?”

“I mean I probably would’ve paid more attention in college if it meant free candy. Patton bought some a while ago, you could try with that.” Logan hummed in thought. “Alright, I suppose it’s worth a try.”

They pulled into their driveway, the two entering the house. Virgil was immediately hit with the smell of Patton’s chicken adobo, as well as the sound of the man in question singing cheerily as he cooked.

Virgil took off his shoes, placing them next to the welcome mat before turning around. And all of a sudden Patton was there, welcoming him and Logan home and giving us both a kiss on the lips. The first time he had just appeared behind him it gave Virgil a heart attack, but now it was just expected. It was when Patton didn’t appear there to welcome him home that he became concerned.

Patton pulled Virgil into the kitchen to try out his food, his slit pupils dilating and making almost his entire red iris pure black with excitement. Since Virgil was the only one in the house who actually needed food like this to live, he was always the taste-tester. As always, the food tasted incredible, and Patton soon ran through the house to grab everyone for dinner.

Virgil opened the fridge to pull out some drinks for them, before stopping to stare at the top shelf of the fridge. There staring back at him was a severed arm, wrapped in plastic and still covered in blood. He blinked at it for a moment, before sighing and turning around.

“Roman, did you do this?” He shouted through the house.

“Did I do what?” The sound of eight claws clicking across the wood floor drew closer. The drider peeked into the kitchen, looking into the fridge confused. Then realization seemed to strike him. “Oh...”

“Yeah, these go in the basement fridge, dumbass.” Roman grimaced.

“Welcome home, my love?” He spoke delicately. Virgil was tempted to take the arm and smack him with it, but that was a line that even he wasn’t comfortable crossing.

Roman came over, pulling the arm carefully out of the fridge, before quickly pecking a kiss on Virgil’s cheek and skittering out before the human could come up with a snarky response.

Virgil grabbed the drinks and headed to the dining table, seeing that Logan was calmly standing next to the table, with Janus’s tail wrapped around him up to his chest, just enough so that Logan could still use his arms. Logan had already begun reading a book, one arm rested on Janus’s tail as the naga grumbled to himself about misplacing his bowler hat.

By the looks of it, Logan had already shed his more human disguise, his eyes turning a glowing blue like lightning, black veins showing prominently through his paper-white skin.

Janus noticed Virgil come in and unwrapped himself from around Logan, seeming to consider wrapping around Virgil before choosing to do that later, instead curling his tail up and taking a seat at the table. Logan and Virgil followed soon after, with Patton coming in with the food and Roman coming up from the basement.

They talked about their usual: the shitty people Virgil had to talk to, the gossip around the classroom that Roman and Janus begged to hear from Logan, the kind old lady that came to Patton’s bakery every week, and of course, the hunt they were planning to do tomorrow night.

Virgil typically stayed out of that conversation, mostly because it freaked the other four out when he talked about their hunts so casually. When he had first met them it was disturbing to overhear them talk about killing humans, but at this point he had almost grown apathetic towards it. They generally kept the results of their hunts out of Virgil’s life—aside from the occasional body part—so the only thing that concerned him at this point was them coming back alive from them.

Soon dinner was over, the dishes had been washed, and the five had gone to watch Netflix on the couch. Janus was curled around Virgil—as he was the warmest out of all of them—with his arms draped over his shoulders playing with his hair, and the rest of his tail draped over the rest of their boyfriends. Virgil’s legs were on Patton’s lap, Patton’s head was on Logan’s shoulder, and Roman’s head and arms were draped over Logan’s lap, a hand brushing through Roman’s hair.

To anyone looking in on them, it would look like Virgil was currently being squeezed to death while a vampire, ghoul, and drider watched and waited for their prey to die. So it was a good thing they had closed the blinds. Virgil had chosen a horror movie, and was currently taking note of any time the tail around him constricted suddenly. It was a lot more than he expected.

“I thought you liked horror movies.” He spoke smugly as he felt the grip around him tighten and loosen for the tenth time in two minutes. Janus huffed.

“Well of course I do. It’s just that...this serial killer isn’t realistic at all!” Virgil could tell he was lying, but Logan seemed to take it in stride.

“He is only human, that blow to the head would have snapped his neck back, or at the very least fractured his skull. And why haven’t any of them called the police yet? Quite irresponsible and irrational of them.”

“Isn’t it obvious? That serial killer’s a dark mage in disguise!” Roman spoke as if he had just solved a century-long murder mystery.

“Ooh, that sounds cool!” Patton chirped.

“Were dark mages established in this universe?”

“Of course they were, sweetheart, where have you been?” Janus spoke with a small, confident smirk on his face, turning back to the movie before yelping at a jumpscare and breaking the whole smooth guy facade.

Roman proceeded to spin an entire backstory for the murderer, something the movie had been sorely missing. Did it involve mages and a desire for power? Yes it did, which made it all the more interesting.

By the time he and the movie were finished, they had all begun growing tired. Patton had already fallen asleep cuddling Logan’s arm, and Virgil had begun drifting off a moment before the credits started rolling. Roman flicked off the TV, stretching with a yawn. Logan gently picked up Janus’s tail and moved it off of their laps.

“Virgil, could you move your legs?” Virgil mumbled a bit, but otherwise didn’t move. Whether or not he even could move with Janus wrapped around him was still debatable. Roman smirked, inching closer as quietly as possible, before gently lifting Janus from under his arms. Janus hissed in response, annoyed that his heat source had been taken away. Roman simply pulled his torso up, wrapping his tail around his stomach before carefully picking Virgil up and draping him over his abdomen.

Logan picked Patton up and followed Roman to the bedroom, placing Patton down before taking Virgil off of Roman and laying him next to Patton, then getting in bed himself. Roman got comfortable in his blanket nest next to the bed, kissing Janus goodnight before letting him get comfortable under the blankets. He gently took Logan’s hand and kissed him goodnight as well, laying his head on a pillow and closing his eyes.

Virgil slept, surrounded by four creatures that survived by feeding off of humans like himself, and had a peaceful night’s sleep, knowing that no matter what they did to other humans, they would never harm him. And he was grateful to have them.

[sayakas-dr-imagines]

Hello! May I request Hiyoko and Mahiru with an fem s/o who is a reserve course student? Thank you! (Some angst would be nice :3)

AI don’t know a lot about the reserve course, so this was challenging. I tried though, and I hope you like it nonetheless!

- Mod Sayaka

Mahiru Koizumi and Hiyoko Saionji With A Fem S/O Who Is In The Reserve Course!

Mahiru Koizumi

- You have always been interested in photography ever since you were a child. Despite having no desire to actually participate, you decided to learn as much as you could, and become as experienced as possible just in case your view changed when you were older.

- Due to this, Mahiru had been your friend well before she was scouted to attend Hope’s Peak. At first it was just a nice little routine, you would visit her, and she would talk to you about photography, with you either telling her facts of your own or taking small mental notes.

- But then it evolved into talking about more things - other likes, dislikes, and even home life. She would talk, and you would listen. You would talk, and she would listen. It was nice. All of the memories you two had together are nice to look back on in the end.

- The time you two were spending together gradually increased overtime, and then it became daily for you two to run off, and try to find places to take photos. You were always able to help with angles and were always honest with how you felt about her pictures. She appreciated that.

- She always told you that even if somebody isn’t an ultimate, she believes that they can still take a talent and build a career on it, just like any other ultimate could. That was always your motivation in life.

- But when Mahiru was scouted by Hope’s Peak Academy, you were ecstatic. Of course, neither of you wanted to have to leave each other, but your thought process was that “as long as one of us achieve our dream, then none of us can lose, right?”

- Mahiru never approved of this thought process of yours. She said that it’s only a win for her if we both turn out to have successful careers in things we want to do. You knew that she was right, but by sticking to the same idea that you always have, you were trying to convince yourself just as much as you were trying to convince her.

- And you thought that as long as you stuck to it and pretended to believe your own words, eventually you would genuinely start to believe it. But your mind doesn’t change so easily.

- The truth is, you were horribly upset that she was scouted to attend Hope’s Peak. You felt happy for her, you were so happy that she finally has the chance to achieve her dream - but at the same time, if she does achieve that dream, then what will happen to that duo you grew up with? Will you be forgotten?

- You were eventually confident enough to be vocal with these concerns and told Mahiru you were worried. She was thankfully very understanding, and made a mutual promise that we would never forget about each other.

- Despite this promise, you were still nervous. You didn’t want to grow apart - you wanted to stay together.

- That’s why, when your parents agreed to pay the fee to let you be a reserve course student, you were so excited. Your first instinct was to tell Mahiru, and she had a similar reaction to yours.

- “That’s amazing, S/O!” She wrapped her arms around you and pulled you close, and you did the same. You didn’t even realise what you were saying, or doing. It just slipped out.

- “I love you Mahiru.” There was a moment of silence between you two, before she finally broke the agonising silence with her own words. 

- “I love you too.”

- You two made a solemn promise to each other that those feelings would never change. That your relationship would never change into something more unappealing, or something unhealthy.

- You promised each other. And in your entire life, all of the promises you’ve made with Mahiru have never been broken. Never before have you ever had a reason to be suspicious of her breaking a promise - because you trusted her with your life.

- “Mahiru?” Until now. The redhead in question wasn’t responding to your texts, and she was never around you in school. You hadn’t seen her for a while, so you thought she was sick. But then you saw her with a group of people you didn’t know.

- She spun around, and looked almost shocked to see your face. The group of people were confused. They were obviously ultimates - they all had that aura around them of their personality and general presence. Something you and a lot of other reserve course students lacked.

- “S/O, hi.”

- “Mahiru, who’s this?” One of the girls asked. She looked unwelcoming, and her aura had a sort of “leave here, and never come back” feeling to it.

- Mahiru, supposedly in her panic, turned back around and said, “Nobody. Anyway-” You didn’t cut her off, but you tuned her out. Nobody? These new friends of hers didn’t even know who you were, and now she wasn’t even going to bother to introduce you, or give you the chance to introduce yourself?

- Your body was moving on its own at this point. You grabbed her hand and pulled her away to another area - not far away enough to not be in public, but far away enough for her to basically be inclined to speak to you.

- “S/O! What are you doing? Jeez, I’m just trying to talk to my friends.”

- “I get that,” you say. Your face must be red from anger at this point, you think. “But I’m your friend, too! And you’re not even going to bother to say “oh, yeah, that’s S/O”, I mean, c’mon, Mahiru!”

- Mahiru looked almost offended at that comment. “S/O. I swear, I’ve finally made some more friends, and you can’t even be happy for me?”

- “I can’t even be happy for you? What the hell do you mean?” You have to stop yourself from yelling. “You’ve been refusing to talk to me or be anywhere near me for the past few days!”

- “Well maybe I want some friends who actually have talent.”

- She seemed to cut herself off after that, looking terrified of what just escaped her mouth. She slapped a hand over her mouth and her eyes brimmed with tears, as did yours. “Wait, S/O- I didn’t mean it. I swear.”

- “No, Mahiru... Just don’t.” You turn around, wiping your tears away as you run off to any secluded place you can use to cry without anybody bothering you. Nobody could see you in this state - absolutely nobody. 

- Because even if they did, they wouldn’t care, right? I mean... who would care about somebody who doesn’t even have any real talent?

- You look up, and see the mountains that you told Mahiru to take a quick picture of as a memento a few months ago, and can’t help but feel sick.

Hiyoko Saionji

- Just like Mahiru, you two had the fortune of growing up together. Back when she was younger, she was far more trusting than she is now. You knew about her misfortune from a very early age, so you were always her shoulder to cry on whenever she felt like she needed help.

- You two were the perfect duo - you being a perfect balance to her mischievous and childish behaviour. She often referred to you as “big sis” when you two grew older, and she stuck to you like glue.

- Whenever she felt upset or threatened in any way, she usually ran to her father as support. But if by chance her father wasn’t around and you were, she’d immediately go to you for any sort of help you could give her.

- She was always very protective of you. She believed that because you were her friend and you grew up together, that you deserve the same treatment that she deserves, which is to be treated as a superior. You never agreed with her on this, but there is no arguing with her. You learned that a while ago, and the hard way too.

- You two were simply jumping around, with her babbling on about whatever nonsense crossed her mind. You joyfully listened, and then stopped yourself when she mentioned something about both of you being higher-ups in the world, and with both of you deserving to be treated like royalty.

- You told her that you weren’t royalty though, and that although you would be okay with Hiyoko being treated like a princess, you just want to be known as a normal girl with a normal backstory.

- She cried. Loud. She threw a tantrum until you took it back, and said that you should be treated as a superior too. Ever since that day, you learned to just go along with what she things is right, because it’s not worth the heartbreak of hearing her wails.

- Hiyoko believes wholeheartedly that you are just as talented as her - even if you aren’t an ultimate. She says that whoever doesn’t think so should go back to the pig den where they belong, since obviously they escaped there a few years ago.

- You were always there to protect her from people who made her cry out of nowhere, even if she was actually being nice to them for once. This led to assumptions being made about you. People began to spread rumours that you were just as bad as Hiyoko.

- You didn’t care, and continued to defend Hiyoko with your life. She was simply misunderstood, right? She would never turn on you. She would never turn on anybody she truly cares about.

- When Hiyoko was scouted by Hope’s Peak Academy, she wasn’t happy. Rather, she was upset that you wouldn’t be there with her - protecting her, helping her. You reassured her that she’d be fine without you, but it’d be a cold day in hell before she believes that.

- She would constantly whine about having to be alone in a whole new area without her best friend, without the one person she could turn to other than her father. 

- So in order to make her happy, you convinced your parents to pay the fee. It took my begging, whining and compromising, but eventually, they caved, and paid the fee to allow you to be in the reserve course with some other students just like you.

- “Hey, Hiyoko! I have something to tell you.” You tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned around. Upon seeing you, her face lit up like a small child.

- “Oh hey! It better be good news!” She smiled, looking up at you with excitement. She really did remind you of a child sometimes. Not just her looks, but her attitude and overall aura was that of a small child’s.

- You nodded. “It is- I got into the reserve course.” She immediately threw herself at you, wrapped her arms around your midsection. 

- “Yes! I knew it - you’ll will be with me forever!” Hiyoko sounded so amazingly happy that you got into the reserve course, and so you couldn’t help but hug back.

- “Of course we wi-”

- “I love you, S/O!”

- There was a moment of awkward silence between you two, before Hiyoko desperately tried to cover up her tracks by going back on the statement. “No- no, I mean like... y’know...”

- “I love you too, Hiyoko.” You smiled fondly down at her. She grew silent. The silence this time was far from awkward, it was in fact, a very comfortable silence. A comforting quiet, a nice change from the usual ruckus that happens whenever you’re around Hiyoko.

- “Yeah. Yeah, love you, S/O.”

- That was the happiest day of your life. Where you were both finally able to confess your feelings for each other, and also the day where you confirmed that you would be going to the same school as her.

- But little did you know, that going to the same school would be the root of both of your issues. It was your dream, and Hiyoko’s, for the longest time. But neither of you anticipated that your shared dream could cause the biggest nightmare of your lives.

- “Go away, you fat pig!” Hiyoko spat, stepping in front of you. You were having a civil conversation with Mikan, and apparently, Hiyoko wasn’t very pleased with this.

- “I-I’m sorry! S-so s-sorry!” Mikan hurried away, around the corner. Hiyoko huffed, pleased with herself, and turned back to face you.

- “We were just talking, Hiyoko.”

- “Yeah, well why were you talking with that useless bitch instead of me? You said you love me, remember? So why don’t you spend time with me?” Hiyoko whined, stomping her foot down.

- “I do spend time with you, Hiyoko! But sometimes I want to hang around with my other friends, too-��

- “Oh, yeah, riiiiight. What kinda moron would willingly be around a reserve course student?”

- She seemed to not notice what she said for a few seconds, because it took her a moment to look just as taken aback as you did.

- “Apparently you’re the kind of moron that would, Hiyoko.” You turn away, your eyes stinging with the unwanted tears that threatened to spill at any moment.

- “W-wait!”

- You hastily walked away. There was no point in hiding anymore - your tears were already flowing down your cheeks, showing no sign of stopping.

- Nobody asked what was wrong. Nobody even gave you a passing glance.

- Of course they didn’t. After all, what kind of moron would willingly be around a reserve course student?

[dlamp-dictator]

Allen Rambles about Episode 6

Man... I’m just never going to actually talk about anything in a timely manner, am I? Every time I say that a Rambling is coming I get distracted and talk about bad anime, other video games, or I draw my OCs for a months on end and forget all my drafts exist. 

And since Children of Ursus... dense, to say the least, I’ll just finish up this draft of Episode 6 and hopefully get on some kind of proper schedule for October... hopefully.

So, Chapter 6 came out... month ago, and I’ve been meaning to talk about for some time. Honestly, I have more criticisms than praises for this episode, but there are a few good points worth talking about. 

But first, as usual, a synopsis.

To keep things simple, Episode 6 focuses on the joint operation between the Hong Kong Lungmen Guard Department and the Rhodes Island Pharmaceutical Company. After Episode 5, Rhodes Island finally rendezvoused with Ch’en’s detachment in Lungmen and the two groups come up with a game plan to take out the Reunion troops in the city. Ch’en focusing on the slums and a few key locations while Rhode Island takes out the commanders, namely Frostnova, Faust, and Mephisto. 

That’s the basic summary of things, but things go a little deeper.

The Story

A looong while ago I said Code of Brawl contained the best and worst aspect of Arknights. Episode 6 really shows what can be bad about it. 

Okay, I’m being a little unfair since this latest Episode just pails in comparison to 5, but it’s still a little disappointing. My main issues are the disjointed story arcs and the attempted at humanizing Reunion, but before I get to that let me just go over all the little things first, just so I can clear the air of all the nitpicks and not accidentally make a 500-word segment about minor things. With that said...

Small Things that Only Bug Allen

Blaze gives Greythroat shit for reasons that seemed to have happened off screen. This makes her seem really catty (pardon the pun) toward Greythroat for no reason aside from assumed slights and weakens Greythroat’s later character growth as we don’t see her show hatred or prejudice toward the infect, not in the same way as Ch’en in Episode 2-ish.

The Doctor’s role as a self-insert really harms more scenes than helps. A lot of moments where they’re the focus feel flat since they don’t have a real personality to play off of. Just for example, imagine if Amiya was trapped in with Frostnova instead of the Doctor, I could see a much stronger chance to characterize both characters in that situation.

Gavial was mentioned several times in this Episode and didn’t get any dialogue. How dare you not give Gavial screentime.

This Episode has proven that Amiya is canonically a 14-year-old loli and in charge of a total not private military company, no I swear, those soldiers are just for CC and special ops don’t think about it too much Silverash is just a CEO of a company stop asking questions. 

This isn’t a story complaint, but 6-16 was a bitch to get through. The randomness of Frostnova’s AI combined with that high damaging AoE attack just kills it for me (and half my units).

And while on gameplay, Stage 6-17 was really dumb and its only redeeming value is a free Originite Prime. I get the narrative point of it, but it’s still dumb.

Okay, so with the small stuff out of the way let’s hit the big issues, starting with...

The Disjointed Arcs

So... this Episode wanted to explain Frostnova’s backstory, explain Mephisto and Faust’s backstory, introduce GreyThroat and Blaze while giving them a character arc, further Ch’en’s character arc, humanize Reunion, do world-building on Lungmen society, reveal a political conspiracy of Lungmen that dates back years before the main story, kick-start what I pray isn’t a redemption arc for Mephisto (that’s a Rambling in itself), hint at Crownslayer’s backstory, hint at Talaluh’s  backstory, and possibly reveal some stuff about Ursus.

And folks... that’s too much for one Episode to handle.  

Compared to Episode 5, which just focused on Ch’en and the LGD, this was just a mess, there’s no two ways about. They were trying to do too much and front-loaded a lot of the important bits toward the end. I really wish they only tried to do two or three things on that list instead of 10 things. Arknights has a bad habit of trying to tell too much in the limited time it has our attention. Episode 4 was guilty of this, elements of Operation Intelligence was guilty of this, and even Code of Brawl has hints of this issue too by trying to hint at Mostima’s backstory while giving Bison and some other characters an arc. I get that they’re trying to lay the ground work for future events and story points, but this is really just too much, at least for one episode.

But speaking of things that are too much...

Humanizing Reunion

This is what really grabs my goat. I’m conflicted on how to feel about the attempt to humanize Reunion and add grey morality to their role as antagonist. My original draft had said this was a bad thing, since Mephisto is so cartoonishly evil any attempts at redemption feel flimsy, but... I think it could work. 

The main issue of trying to humanize Reunion is that our introduction to them was Mephisto, who is so far down the moral spectrum that it’s impossible to think he or the faction he represents are redeemable. However, characters like Faust, Skullshatterer, and Frostnova are much more reasonable/understandable in their motives. Skullshatterer is ruthless to his enemies, but kind to his soldiers, and his ruthlessness is really only on the battlefield. Faust is essentially Mephisto’s leash, and just tries to reign in his evil while protecting him. Frostnova just wants to have a home for her Yetis and doesn’t care what side she has to join in order to get it, though she has her doubts about Talaluh. 

This is fine by itself, but due to all the evils of Mephisto and the cruelty he’s done to Rhodes Island, Lungmen, and Ursus, it makes it really hard to see Mephisto as the exception instead of the norm for Reunion’s methods. It makes Faust’s death and Mephisto’s devastation of it feel flat since, frankly, the brat’s cocky attitude got his friend killed, and he’s just getting what he deserved. He’s killed and tortured too many for anyone to really feel sympathy toward him. When even Amiya calls Mephisto a bastard, there’s really no redemption, and while Episode 6 doesn’t try to redeem I’ve seen enough anime to know they might try and make it broken state seem more sympathetic than it should be.

Which leads nicely into Frostnova, who’s arc was done very well by my standards. While I personally think giving her solo time with the Doctor was more detrimental than helpful, it worked well enough to show she wasn’t a monster like Mephisto. It gave us some time to understand the motivations of the Yeti Squad and sympathizes with their goals of finding a home, gave us a nice hook for when Patriot comes around in full after being teased in both Episode 4 and Operation Intelligence, and if this Episode only focused on that I’d say it was a good story over all.

But... Episode 6 wanted to also hint at so much more that it was suffocating. I’ll at least say that Ch’en’s segments were fine and move on.

Gameplay

I’m going to keep this as short as I can since the story section was the big thing I wanted to talk about. However, there are a few things I want to mention in terms of the game.

6-7 was probably the best chapter in the game so far. I loved how they gave you an team already with most of them at E2. It was a great way for people without GreyThroat and Blaze and test them out. It let you see how some Operators you might have ignored perform at a higher level. It gave you a hint at where you should be at the point of this level, and the for the lore nerd it gives us a good idea on how an official team is structured for high-level missions. I’d love to see more missions like this in the future where they give you a ‘canon’ team already and have you work out the puzzle of who goes where and when.

6-16 is probably the worst. Frostnova having high stats and a second stage I understand, but so much of that map relies on getting around the randomness of what tiles she knocks out and praying you can survive her massive AoE attack in her second phase. My entire team was E2 Level 30 and it took me over ten tries to 2-star that stage. I was using a guide too. A lot of that map revolved around just praying Frostnova didn’t bonk out certain tiles or praying that her AoE attack didn’t randomly proc at a bad time. There is way too much left to chance on her stage.

General Gushing

I think that’s enough critique, let’s get to some happy stuff and talk about the things I enjoyed.

Blaze’s cattiness aside, I liked her a lot. She’s confident, she spontaneous, she’s... basically a rowdy housecat. Seeing more elite operators would be nice so Rhode Island feels like an actual force with some power and order and less ragtag.

Ch’en character arc is shaping up nicely, her barging into Wei’s office to chew him out gave me the largest grin.

Amiya’s whole speech to Wei was just great as well, really reminds you she is the top executive of Rhode Island for a reason... despite being a 14-year-old bunny loli.

Everyone mildly talking about Gavial makes me really curious about seeing her speak and act in the story. She seems like a feared woman to be sure. I’m we’ll be getting her event somewhere down the line.

Faust and Frostnova’s death, as forced as they felt, were genuinely sad and made me feel something. It gave the series a bit more weight to it.

Speaking of, Faust and GreyThroat had some pretty nice parallels, both Crossbowmen fighting for causes they’re initially apathetic toward save for a very small handful of people. Mephisto for Faust, and Amiya for GreyThroat.

“She jumped down?!” “She jumped down...” Best exchanged in the game so far.

Like Code of Brawl, save for some of the bullshit maps that just spammed the strongest, hardest-hitting units (yes, I do mean 6-5) I found a lot of the maps required some creative thinking. Despite this Episode needing E2 units, my E1 Vigna was the MVP of most stages. Ethan as well, as I didn’t have Manticore at the time and his damage of time skill and AoE damage really made those chokepoints work.

In the Future

As always, I don’t like the idea of fixing something that’s already out, but asking for future changes seems reasonable. To that end, I hope Episode 7 is focused on only 2 or three characters with little distraction. Episode 5 was great not because it focused on a fan-favorite character, but because it was a solid character arc for that one character. So far we have Ch’en and Amiya getting ready to maybe stop a war between Lungmen and Ursus, so let’s focus on these two characters. Amiya maybe finding out that Ch’en is slowly becoming Infected and helping her come to terms with that. Ch’en revealing her past to Amiya and the two connecting over losing so many close to them due to Oripathy. The two standing up to the political corruption of Lungmen, shoulder to shoulder, as women that refuse to see another life lost due to the indifference of a city’s politics.

And no bullshit maps like 6-5 too.

Anyway, that’ll do it for me. I’m... off to write some more essays and get a queue going. 

[nicnacsnonsense]

@saretton was talking about a Cyrano de Bergerac AU earlier and y’all I got carried away again. Basic backstory here is Crowley is Cyrano, Aziraphale is Christian, and Anathema is Roxane. Crowley is in love with Aziraphale (obv) and Aziraphale has convinced himself he’s in love with Anathema because of internalized homophobia. The turning point in the story is when Anathema turns Aziraphale down in favor of Newt and Aziraphale realizes he’s actually rather relieved and maybe he wasn’t all that into her after all., Then Anathema points out all the things Aziraphale has been saying to her and writing to her (words that he is getting from Crowley) sound like they’re actually intended for someone other than her. Aziraphale does some thinking and concludes that Crowley is in love with someone, which is problematic because Aziraphale is actually in love with Crowley. Anyway, I wrote the very end scene where they finally get together because I’m Azcrow trash and have no self-control. Here you go:

“What brings you to my humble abode, angel?” Crowley had sprawled out in his usual position on the settee, and Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat. The sinewy beauty and easy grace of the man – how had he been so blind as to never notice it before? How was he supposed to go on now that he did? How was he supposed to listen to Crowley call him angel in that tone of casual fondness without losing all control over himself and doing something that would ruin their friendship forever?

“Aziraphale?” Crowley prompted.

Aziraphale shook himself and took a seat in the armchair he always sat in, the one he’d come to think of as his in the back of his mind. “My apologies; I was lost in thought for a moment,” he said. “I stopped by because I spoke with Miss Device yesterday afternoon.”

Crowley tensed. It was a subtle movement, but Aziraphale was watching too closely to miss it. He assumed it was out of concern for Aziraphale; the meeting yesterday had not been one they had anticipated, so Crowley had been unable to help Aziraphale prepare for it. “How did that go?”

“She informed me that while she values our friendship and is flattered by and appreciates the overtures I’ve made of late, she bears no romantic feelings toward me and has instead decided to accept the suit of Newton Pulsifer.”

“I’m sorry,” Crowley said, genuine regret lacing his voice. “I know you love her.”

“That’s the funny thing,” Aziraphale said, and in the light of a new day it did seem funny. One of those casual anecdotes about an embarrassing moment some years past and oh, wasn’t I foolish? “I don’t love her; I don’t think I ever did. That is, I certainly return her sentiments regarding our friendship, but beyond that my infatuation stemmed more from the idea of her as the sort of person I ought to be in love with than any genuine feeling.”

“It certainly seemed genuine enough,” Crowley remarked archly. A fair enough attitude as he as certainly suffered the brunt of Aziraphale’s misguided infatuation.

“It seemed so to me as well, but I have a rather marvelous gift for self-deception I’m discovering. Though I suspect deep down part of me must have known, which is why I failed so abysmally at expressing it.” He was quite certain of that in fact. Because looking at Crowley now Aziraphale felt he could write sonnet upon sonnet, pages and pages and pages of love letters. He would go on his knees before Crowley and spill his heart out in hundreds of thousands of eloquently-spun words if he thought it would do any good.

Aziraphale sighed. “It all worked out for the best, I suppose, and I do wish the two of them happiness. I very much appreciate all the help you’ve given me throughout this endeavor, regardless of how it ended.”

“Of course,” Crowley said easily. “I’d do anything for you angel, just say the word.”

Aziraphale’s smile faltered for a moment, but he reclaimed it by forcing himself to take Crowley’s offer in the congenial spirit it was offered and to ignore how differently Crowley might feel if he knew of Aziraphale’s unnatural desires. “Thank you. And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Really, don’t play coy. When we were speaking yesterday Miss Device pointed out how most of the things you wrote for me to give her actually sounded as though they were written with someone else in mind entirely. You’re in love.”

Crowley bolted up in alarm. “That’s not—I didn’t— Don’t be angry ange— Aziraphale. Nothing has to change; I just—“

“Don’t be absurd, Crowley. Of course I’m not angry. Well, perhaps a little hurt you didn’t think to mention that you’d fallen in love, but I understand some people finds these kinds of things difficult to talk about. I don’t hold it against you. As for nothing changing…” Aziraphale found he could no longer stand to look at Crowley, so ducked his head and watched his hands gently wringing in his lap. “Things should change. I read everything you wrote and heard all the words you said; it’s clear how deeply you feel for this woman. You should tell her— no, I insist that you tell her how you feel. There’s no way she’ll turn you down with how beautifully you express yourself. I realize my experience with Miss Device might not be exactly confidence-building in that regard, but I’m sure your lady will be able to sense the genuineness of your feelings. And of course if there’s anything I can do to help, I—“

Crowley kissed him.

Aziraphale barely had time to register what was happening before Crowley pulled away again. At some point he must have risen from the settee and was now knelt on the ground in front of Aziraphale, gazing upon him as earnestly reverent as any man at worship.

Aziraphale felt like he’d been hit by a runaway carriage. All those lines, all the little clues to the identity of the woman Crowley loved that Aziraphale had seen, but had been unable to puzzle out. They were all about him. “You’re in love with me,” he breathed.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” Crowley placed his hands on Aziraphale’s knees and pulled them away again, as light as a butterfly. When Aziraphale didn’t protest, Crowley set them back down, his long fingers curled tight as though he feared Aziraphale might bolt any second. “I meant what I said. Nothing has to change. Just let me stay by your side as your friend. Let me stay in your life. All I’m asking for is just the smallest, most insignificant crumb of you, and I swear to you I will never—“

Aziraphale kissed him.

Crowley seemed too shocked at first to respond, but Aziraphale continued the kiss until Crowley, tentatively at first and then with more and more fervor, returned the gesture. Aziraphale straightened back up, gently guiding Crowley along with him until they were both in the chair with Crowley astride Aziraphale’s lap. Crowley’s hands were fisted in Aziraphale’s shirt as he desperately tried to pull them even closer together. Aziraphale’s own hands were resting on Crowley’s shoulders, but after a minute he daringly reached up to run one through Crowley’s fine fire-strand hair. Crowley whined into Aziraphale’s mouth. He broke the kiss and buried his face in Aziraphale’s neck, ripping his glasses off and tossing them across the room to do it.

Aziraphale held Crowley in his arms, one hand still gently carding Crowley’s hair, and marveled at the turn his life had taken. An hour ago this was something he believed he would never have. A day ago this was something he had never even knew he wanted. And now here he was. At that exact moment he decided that the world was wrong about these feelings. How could they be anything but good and right when he felt so blessed?

Crowley mumbled something into Aziraphale’s neck. “What was that?” Aziraphale asked. “I didn’t quite catch it.”

Crowley turned his head slightly. “I said, is this real?”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, his voice choked with emotion. He urged Crowley up to look at him and, oh, there was the reason for the glasses. Because Crowley’s eyes were so expressive. There was so much love there, Aziraphale felt he was drowning in it. And alongside the love there was hope, cautious and terrified, but hope.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale repeated. “My darling. My dearest. My closest and truest companion. My love, my light, my joy. My heart’s only.” Aziraphale watched as with each endearment the hope in Crowley’s eyes brightened. Crowley had gifted Aziraphale with so many beautiful words, and though Aziraphale hadn’t always listened as closely as he should have, he’d heard them all. And now it wa time he shared some of his own with Crowley. He leaned forward and spoke directly into Crowley’s ear:

“I confess this to you now, my dear,

The strangest truth I have.

Because you have always seen more clear,

Than I myself ever have.

I feel the warmth of you in my arms.

You scent is far too dear to be faked.

I wish to keep you here safe from all harms,

And to always bestow upon you more love than I take.

  The beauty of your eyes–”

Here Crowley made a noise of protest. Aziraphale hushed him and continued.

“The beauty of your eyes,

Burnt amber in the light,

Is far greater than imagining could provide.

My mind would never get it right.

  These sensations are far too vivid,

For this to be a dream.

But the joy here is far more fervid,

Than I have ever experienced in reality.

  I no longer know what is true,

And would not care if I did.

For either I find myself here with you,

Or we lie together dreaming instead.”

For a long moment Crowley said nothing, and Aziraphale began to get nervous. “I know it’s not as good as the ones you wrote. Some of the rhymes were dreadful and I’m sure the meter was all wrong and—“

Crowley gently cupped Aziraphale’s face. “I think you’re right. This is too perfect to be anything but a dream.” He kissed Aziraphale, long and slow and deep. “So let’s never wake up.”

[r-ahh-mi]

A Cure I Know // Part 4

Part 1  II Part 2  II  Part 3  II 

Pairing: Elliot Alderson x fem!OC (Emerson)

Summary: A sex addict & a nut case - what a perfect pairing, don’t you think?

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Sorry this took so long to produce, but here it is! If you enjoy this series and would like to be tagged in future chapters, let me know and i’ll happily add you to my tag list. Enjoy xx

-

It was like clockwork and to no fail that following Monday we were both once again sat on the train in the same exact train car. I wondered a lot of things. One: did he always aim for this exact train car? That seemed a tad repetitive and manic, but after our little ordeal the weekend before I wouldn’t put it past him should he be a character of mindless repetition. He himself seemed as though he hadn’t a clue what he was doing and whether he was doing it right or wrong or down or sideways. I suppose you couldn’t say much better things about me either because ever since I saw him that first day on this very train, I aimed to catch this exact car as well, just in case, though the chance was more rare than rubies, I would once again come across this intriguing stranger. However, I never thought that me and him would actually create this morning routine of avoiding eyes whilst on a crowded rush hour train.

Now, onto Two: who the fuck is this guy. Truly. He could be anyone -- an assassin, a dull sales person, even a fucking male prostitute. He was a complete mystery to me and for some god forsaken reason I was intently drawn on getting to know him, but not the rough and tough bad boy he oh so attempted to seem to be. That was a lie. I can spot a lie because I too am quite the liar. Except, you know, I'm good at it, but this man--this man was not accustomed to lying, at least not conjuring up a good lie that would be pleasing or believable to others. That’s sorta cute in a way if you think of it. A grown human being not being able to lie well means they still have this sort of innocence to them, but I knew he couldn’t be all innocent.

I did catch him in a dusky alley having an altercation with some wealthy so and so after all, and that was anything but innocent. Not to mention he was deeply insistent on making sure I hadn’t heard or seen anything that he didn’t want me to see or hear. Honestly, the only reason I was upset that I hadn’t any clue as to what he was up to that night was because I didn’t have anything to dangle over his head and tease him with. Though he did seem like the type to have quite a temper and yes, he did frighten me ever so slightly, I knew he was harmless deep down. Simply put, he was just a boy who was lost and seeking out something, I could tell that much. His eyes were quick to give that way.

Today wasn’t any different than the other times I'd seen him on the train. We would make quick eye contact every so often and within a millisecond he was diverting his eyes to the nearest spot that wasn’t my gaze. I never took my eyes off of him, especially not today. Suddenly I felt brave and curious about him all at the same time. He was something that I could see myself chasing after which he should see as a huge compliment seeing as I loved people who were disposable. I wanted the intimacy of a good fuck and that was all. Don’t take me to dinner, don’t try to fucking cuddle with me, and, jesus fucking christ, don’t even try to ask me for my number so we could ‘do this again sometime’. That's not what I want. Well, that is until now.. Which was terribly frightening and intriguing to me all at once.

“Stop fucking staring at me.”

I smirked, recognizing that deep voice seeping out from between clenched teeth. “Am I bothering you?,” I questioned.

“Yeah you are.”

“Guess my plan is working then,” I answered with the most over confident smile I could muster together while his cold gaze was peircing through the even colder atmosphere that seemed to loom around him wherever he went.

The stranger huffed loudly. Loud enough for most other bystanders to notice and grimace at his rather rude behavior on public transportation, but this is where I realized we were alone in this steel built train car and immediately my confidence began to dwindle away. Especially when his hands reached for the long metal bars that went from the floor to the ceiling, and pulled his body up to a standing position. 

His dark attired body sauntered over in my direction until he was directly stood in front of me; I could feel my knee’s brushing along the fabric of his dark, wrinkled pants. He craned his neck down so his face was closer to mine and, should I not feel so intimidated by him right now, I would’ve seen this as a tempting opportunity to have some fun on public transportation. But he was different. He didn’t make me feel like the fem fatale that I usually felt like when I was with other men and women. He was the alpha, but a lost and sad alpha. An alpha who seemed to not understand what he was doing, yet he held so much natural power over others.

“What are you trying to do?”

I shrugged, feeling my eyes grow owlish as they blinked furiously trying to process the harshness of his voice. 

Maybe I was afraid of him? Maybe I wasn’t? How he was able to take me from cocky to nervous and scared was still something I was trying to process, but he was beginning to make me feel..not like myself. I suppose in general he made me feel like a different person entirely.

“I--I’m not doing anything,” I answered with shaky hands that his eyes immediately seemed to notice.

His brow instantly relaxed and the crease set in the middle of his forehead seemed to dissipate as he moved his face back a good foot or so from mine. I watched as his teeth dug into his bottom lip while his eyes searched the train car once more to ensure nobody was within earshot of our conversation, but this only made me feel more nervous. 

“Listen, I just want to know why you’re doing this. Just tell me. I’m not going to hurt you or anything… did someone send you looking for me? Was it-“

Before he could finish his sentence, I shook my head in response as my brain tried to wrap itself, yet again,  around this man and why on earth anyone would be looking for him or why someone would send me to find him. Who was he?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Immediately he coward back both physically and mentally as he released the metal bars and let his body balance itself as the train moved at a fast pace.

“I just don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what?,” I questioned, but he didn’t seem to want to say anything else. Instead he took one of his hands underneath the black hood covering his head and ran it through his hair, causing a small strand of black to fall onto his forehead.

I watched the strand, almost in slow motion, as it relaxed onto his tan skin and the urge to be cliche and fix the hair back into its place was there. Infact, my hand twitched as if it was going for it, without letting my brain grant it permission, to touch this strangers stray hair. Usually only a gesture made for couples or those who sustained close and precious relationships, yet I took had the urge for this man.

“Elliot?”

An unfamiliar blonde woman had entered the train car, along with a few dozen other people, as she made her way over to this stranger who evidently wasn’t a mystery to her. She placed her hand on his shoulder as the stranger looked between me and the blonde haired woman--he seemed cautious and nearly scared by her or rather what she could say.

“Elliot, I haven’t seen you in days. Why haven’t you been at work?”

I watched as the stranger took his hand, that was still underneath his hood, and gently lift the black fabric from his head as he shrugged. “I’ve just been busy with some stuff.”

The blonde scoffed at the man, who I presumed to be Elliot, as he mumbled his words and seemed annoyed as she began versing him in why it’s essential to let your friends know what’s going on in your life, but frankly I was much too distracted to pay attention to their conversation in its entirety.

Elliot. What a sweet name. It was somehow fitting for this stranger that had a dark and cold outer appearance; the opposite of sweet, yet it suited him well, very very well. I was surprised I never even thought about naming this mysterious person, but never once did I stop to think of his name, his backstory, and what made him who he was.

The scary part was that now I was thinking about all of that. I was thinking of his middle name, does he have any pets, is this blonde bitch going to get in my way of getting to know him, also, why the hell did I want to get to know him? Why was I having monologues with myself regarding this man who, up until a minute ago, I hadn’t a clue of even his name. I hated this and most importantly i hated who I was right now because I wasn’t the type to pine and day dream after another. Why was he different. Why on this god forsaken earth is there a creature say as he that would make me feel such foreign things that I hadn’t felt in decades.

“Are you okay?”

I hadn’t noticed that I zoned out, with my eyes still fixed on Elliot, until his now much perkier, yet still lifeless, voice questioned my dead eyed gaze.

I nodded, gulping back a breath I hadn’t realized was being held captive in my throat as I looked around for the blonde woman, who had been previously scolding a grown man on proper friendship etiquette--how precious. Thankfully, she was nowhere to be found. I must have been so deep in my thoughts that her departure had gone unnoticed to my zoned out stare. 

“You sure?,” Elliot questioned again, ending his sentence this time with a brief and deep chuckle that made me smile, but I quickly removed the grin from my face in the hopes that he wouldn’t see it. I didn’t need to give him any sort of leverage in whatever it is we were (friends, acquaintances, etc.).

“I’m fine,” I lied, but like I said, I was always convincing when it came to lying and this time was no different.

Elliot nodded just as the loud speaker announced the stop I was needing to get off on and only then did I realize my belongings were nowhere near being close to gathered and ready for me to descend into a crowd of thousands of others working at a miserable job. I began scrambling manically for my things as Elliot just watched me with some sort of look in his eyes that seemed sympathetic in nature, but what for?

I didn’t bother to acknowledge him as I stood to move past him and out of the train car. We never really said or entertained any sort of greeting when we departed so it wasn’t anything unusual.

“Bye.”

I stopped dead in my tracks, directly in the middle of the automatic doors, as he spoke the words. I’m sure I was blushing or wearing some sort of smitten grin and god how I hated that my feelings were from something as small as a ‘bye’ from him, but now wasn’t the time. I wouldn’t let these unusual feelings I was having for this man cause me to shatter the outer appearance I worked hard to convince others of. Not today, not ever--no on was worth that much.

“See you tomorrow, Elliot.”

-

Tag: @sassystrawberryk​ @itsme690​ @imnottiredofgettingoveryou​ @lovelymalekk​ @mezzomercury​ @sherlollydramoine​ @rami-malek-trash​ @amcquivey​ @txmel​ @crystalmethchristmas​ @ramimedley​

[jaehyeonsgf]

Hello can I request a scenario with Jaehyun # 37 & 13 with angst and fluff thank you 😊

13 : “i’ve been flirting with you for three years, it’s about time that you catch on.”

37 : “why do you hate me so much?”

a/n : i’ll do you one up and give you fboy!jaehyun with a lowkey enemies-to-lovers!au. needless to say, i went a little overboard with it. i hope you’d enjoy it. 

-

Yellow is the colour of caution, perhaps that’s the reason that bells went off in your head when you first laid eyes on Jaehyun.

He rakes his fingers through his wet blonde hair, laughing as he points at the other boy, “Another match.”

In a group of sweaty boys, your eyes naturally gravitate to him. His blonde hair catches your eyes first, then his wide shoulders, and then his angelic smile. He had an air of confidence as he dribbles the ball towards the hoop, leaping and dunking the ball in it. Watching him, all you could think of was that he really looked like a prince.

But since you first saw him, with the help of the gossips flying around your university campus, you quickly learn of his reputation at school. You learn his name is Jung Jaehyun and that he is the same age as you. You learn that apparently, he likes to leads girls on, with empty promises of love, only to leave when he gets bored. You learn to avoid him at all costs.

So, you curse your luck when you land in the same lecture hall as him. You never thought that someone like him would actually be interested in literature. To make matters worse, he decides to plop himself right next to you, immediately striking a conversation with you.

That moment, you believe, is the beginning of your downfall.

Since then, three years slip by silently, and somehow, you become Jaehyun’s favourite target. In a room full of people, he will choose to yell your name out loud, causing everyone to stare at you – because that’s totally not embarrassing at all. He loves to casually flirt with you, as if the other girls aren’t sending enough dirty glares in your direction – because it’s not like it made you uncomfortable.

Simply put, it seems like he just can’t just leave you alone. Even if you’ve told him many times to do so.

Hatred is a strong word and, growing up, you were taught to reserve it only for the worst of the worst. But now, you think you’ve finally found someone deserving of such a word. You bestowed the word to Jaehyun for the years of annoyance that he has put you through.

“Dude- Just… Just leave me alone okay,” you walk faster, hoping to put some distance between you and Jaehyun.

His persistence is only served to further annoy you. “Come on, it’s my birthday party. Surely, you like me enough to celebrate my birthday, right?”

You stop dead in your track and toss him a fierce glare. “You’re the only person in this whole world that I hate.”

Guilt eats you up the moment the words fly out of your mouth because, you swear, you catch a glimpse of hurt flashing through Jaehyun’s eyes just for a moment. It’s quick, and you doubt that it ever happened, but the guilt forces you to give him the benefit of doubt.

“…But okay. Just this once.” Your words quickly tumble out of your mouth, trying to make up for your harsh words.

The way his eyes brightens at your answer is enough to ease the guilt.

By the time you get to the party, the sun has already set and the sky is streaked with pink and purple hues. The thump of muffled music coupled with voices shouting and chanting loudly but incoherently are enough to make you regret your decision. Although you’re 21 now, you feel that the drunken messes of parties have already lost its appeal to you. A few years back and you might have considered the fun it entails. Now, you already know that it’ll end with some drunk throwing a punch at another guy or someone knocking over an expensive vase – a boring end, that is.

But you’ve given him your word and it would be rude to suddenly not show up. You decide that you are just going to go in, say hi, and go home.

You hop on to the porch, opening the door for yourself and immediately, the stench of beer fills your nose. You scrunch your nose in disgust and push yourself into the house. You’re quickly swallowed by the crowd, the heavy shove from behind you pushes you deeper into the house.

It’s suffocating and you have never felt more disgusted at the amount of (drunk) people pressed up against you.

You find refuge in the kitchen which you notice is unusually empty, with the exception of a couple making out passionately on the counter-top and you’re quick to shoot them a dirty glare. You start wondering why you even agreed to come in the first place because Birthday Boy is nowhere to be seen. Maybe he had already found his girl-of-the-night. Maybe he’s busy entertaining his many other friends. Maybe-

“(Y/N)?”

You spin your head towards the direction of the sound and oddly enough, relief washes over your body when you see Jaehyun standing at the doorway of the kitchen. The voice hadn’t been loud, it was barely audible against the faded loud blaring music. It isn’t until then that you realise you had been straining your ears to hear his voice above everything else.

“I didn’t think that you would actually come,” he walks towards the fridge. “Beer?” he hands you a can.

You stare at the can and quickly realise that if you had to stay any longer in the house, you’re going need the help of it, so you reach out and take it.

“I said that I would, didn’t I?” You crack open the drink. “I like to keep my words.”

It isn’t until the alcohol burns down your throat that you realised it’s been awhile since you last had a drink. You bite down on your lower lip to supress the hiss that is threatening to spill.

But it seems like Jaehyun notices it.

“Not a drinker?” his voice is laced with false concern, it’s almost mocking you, “We have other drinks like orange j-“

“This is the reason why I didn’t want to come.” You cut him off.

“It’s not like you’re going to do anything else anyways,” he replies calmly, with an irritatingly innocent smile.

As much as you hated to admit it, his words are true. If you weren’t at his party, you would probably be forcing yourself to read and memorise notes. Maybe you’d spend the next 12 hours cramming information into your head, staring at your stained celling. Maybe you’d spend it sleeping. Either ways, it isn’t very productive or fun.

But you’d never say it to his face, so you take another gulp of beer. You feel like you’re really going to need a lot of it to get through the night.

The night progresses, both of you get more drunk and you find yourself actually enjoying the party.

You have forgotten that you came with the intention of just showing your face when you follow him around, even introducing yourself to several of his friends. You have forgotten that Jaehyun is an asshole when you find yourself laughing, as the both of you point out random party-goers, giving them the weirdest backstories. You have forgotten that you actually hate Jaehyun when he convinces you into smearing cheap UV paints across your face. You have forgotten all of the rumours that you’ve heard about Jaehyun when he suggests to go out on the empty balcony. You have certainly forgotten about his reputation when you nod and allow yourself to be alone with him.

You didn’t expect the night to funnel into such a comfortable moment. For the first time in three years, you actually feel comfortable around Jaehyun. You blame it on the buzz of the alcohol, telling yourself that this moment will be forgotten when the sun rises and when tomorrow comes. It takes everything in you to try and not enjoy the moment.

But it’s hard to suppress a giggle when he tells you about his first heartbreak, an online girlfriend he had when he was 8 that broke up with him because he couldn’t send her money. So, you don’t. You giggle and tell him that he was probably ‘dating’ a thirty-year-old Nigerian scammer. And when he tells you about that time that he poured cereal before milk, you don’t suprpess the laughter that comes out of your mouth, as you called him a total dumbass. You talk and talk and talk. Warmth blossoms in your heart as you watch his lips spread into an endearing smile and as he tells the tales of his past. It means nothing.

The night comes to a point where the party’s ending and the blaring music softens. The night air is filled with silence.

“Why… Why did you come tonight?” he mumbles quietly, his speech muffled slightly by the can pressed against his lips.

“Afraid that you’ll grow lonely without me.” Not entirely true, but not lying.

He gulps. “I thought… you didn’t like me?”

“True,” your nonchalance stops you from hearing the crack in Jaehyun’s chest.

He shifts, turning towards you slightly. “Why do you hate me so much, anyways?”

The question quickly sobers you up and you remember. The rumours, his reputation, your desire to be left alone. There’s a growing anger, not at him but at yourself, for letting the whims of the night cloud your judgement.

You gulp visibly. “T-the rumours…” You begin softly, “The things you do to those poor girls.”

He fires back, “It’s not like they weren’t pushing themselves on me.”

You roll your eyes and wonder what spell you were under that you actually believed for a moment that Jaehyun could have been a decent person. “See, that is why I hate you. Y-you simply don’t care.” You see the regret flash in his eyes and know that you should stop but you continue. “You choose your selfish desires – your lust or whatever – over their emotions.”

“Stop,” his voice low – a warning sign.

But the words continue to carelessly tumble out of you, “And let’s be honest, the only reason you hang out with me is because I’m the only girl who has yet to be rejected by you. All you want is for me to be begging on my knees for you but by then you’ll grow bored and go for the other girls, right? Cause that’s what it all come down to, body count.”

His hands are trembling and for once, he doesn’t have the perfect comeback, or any at all.

“H-have you ever loved any one of your girlfriends?” You ask, even though you had your suspicion. “Any.”

He stays quiet, eyes on the ground and that is an answer enough for you.

“No…” You whisper.

“But none of them concerns you! Why are you so-“

“Because I’m afraid that I’ll be another one of them!” You yell and tears are threatening to spill. You take a deep breath and stills your voice. “Because, if they, with what they have, can’t please you, how can I ever compare to them?”

The ugly suppressed truth comes out: you are in love with Jaehyun, have been since the day that you’ve laid eyes on him. As you stand so vulnerably in front of him, each unsatisfactory answer cracks your heart. But it isn’t until this moment that you hear it, the clean split of your heart in to two.

“All these years, watching you kiss other girls, watching you buy them gifts, watching you whisper sweet nothings to them, only for you to drop them the very next day. I’m so afraid that that’s going to be me. That I’ll be your next victim. That I’ll be lured by your charms and fall hopelessly in love with you, only to have it all gone.”

You see his eyes, wide with shock. The way that they say I’ve screwed up. It almost makes up for the ache in your heart, the way it has been broken into two, then four, then sixteen. Almost.

(Though it’s not like anything can make up for the lies you’ve buried your feelings under. Each time jealously crept up, you told yourself ‘I’m not in love with him’. The idea is that if you repeated it enough, one day perhaps you’ll really stop loving him. It hasn’t happened yet. And every time you wished he’d look your way, you’ll tell yourself that you don’t.)  

“I’ve always thought that if you could even feel something other than lust for those other girls, then maybe I had a chance,” You mumble out.  

“I don’t care about them,” he finally says something.

And you don’t care about me, either. You want to say it but decides to choke it back down as a sharp pain shoots through your heart.

“Be-because… I…” he struggles to find the right words. His eyes are shaky and avoids your piercing gaze. “I’m in love with you.” He finally breathes out.

It catches you off-guard and you feel woozy, unsure if it’s the alcohol or the shock. 

You gulp as you try to process what he had just said. Then your tears come out drop by drop, without your control. Three years of suppressed feelings, it all overwhelms you into tears. The thought that finally, finally, you can be in love with him.

His arms pull you into a comforting hug and hear it for yourself, the way his heart drums against his ribcage. It causes more tears to spill out.

“I’ve been flirting with you for three years, it’s about time you caught on,” he chuckles, his fingers gently wiping away the tears spilling out and, when they don’t work, he resorts the gently pecking them away.

The light touches are enough to garner a giggle out of you. “It’s ticklish.”

You look up into his eyes meet his soft gaze. His fingers gently caress the sides of your now-swollen eyes. I want to kiss him. You wonder if it’s too quick so you lean in, just the slightest, and when you see him leaning in too, you close the gap between the both of you.

Your lips meet his as if to say finally and his meets yours in a way that said I’m here.

A simple kiss. When you pull apart, you can’t help but giggle.

“What?” he murmurs.

“…Nothing.”

You didn’t want him to get the satisfaction of hearing the joy in your heart at the realisation that you’re his and he is finally, finally yours. Instead you just lay your head on his chest, letting his steady heartbeats calm you. And he doesn’t object to it, he holds your tight. Secure. 

[thelanguageoflovers]

Hello! The angst anon again and sorry for making u uncomfortable oops. But hey, how bout some fake/pretend relationship w lots of fluff?? Tyrus is gd but anything is fine :)))

You didn’t make me uncomfortable, I just wouldn’t know how to go about tackling something like a school shooting. It has such a gravity to it.

Anyway, yesss cute prompt. (Also I’m ignoring the fact that Josh said Cyrus can’t cook because I feel like he absolutely can and is super extra about it)

—

“I need a really really big favor,” Cyrus started, skipping a greeting, as soon as TJ picked up his facetime.

“Why hello to you too, Underdog,” TJ sat up in bed, readjusting his skewed glasses. “But shoot.”

“Oh no! I woke you up? I’m so sorry!” Cyrus exclaimed.

“No no it’s fine! I just fell asleep reading, but you’re worth waking up for,” TJ shamelessly flirted. “What do you need?”

“Brace yourself,” Cyrus warned, oblivious to TJ’s romantic intentions.

“I’m ready,” TJ chuckled.

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend,” Cyrus said quickly, bracing himself for TJ’s response. 

“Okay,” TJ shrugged.

Cyrus spent a few moments staring at TJ. His dark brown eyes met sparkling green, and for a moment all else was lost. Cyrus could feel his heart fluttering in his chest, and felt a newfound appreciation for his rib cage, for he was sure it was the only reason his heart was still within his body.

“Uh… What? I- I had reasons prepared. I was ready to beg and plead and- and you’re just. You’re just saying okay?” Cyrus stammered in disbelief.

“I mean, yeah. You seem like you just dug yourself into quite the hole, and you need me to take away the shovel,” TJ smiled at his own comparison, and Cyrus could have sworn he could feel himself falling more in love with the boy by the second. “So of course I’ll do it.”

“Really?”

“Anything for you, Underdog. On one condition,” TJ said, smiling coyly.

“Oh no. What’s the condition?” Cyrus asked nervously.

“It’s really not that bad, don’t worry! I just want to know the whole story as to why I’m doing this?”

“Ugh, fine.” Cyrus exaggerated. “I was basically ambushed today by all four of my parents. I went downstairs to find something for lunch, like a normal person, and I found not only my mom and step-father, but all FOUR of my parents. And boy let me tell you. You have no idea how awkward it is to walk into a room full of therapists, all talking over coffee, and then they just stop talking. It was so obvious they were talking about me, oh my god. Anyway, I walked in and all four of them just stared at me the entire time I made lunch- fajitas, by the way. I swear they didn’t even blink. It was terrifying, they were like porcelain dolls, just staring at me.”

“Cyrus, if you could move past the petrifying porcelain parents, I’d appreciate that,” TJ joked gently, smiling through his phone.

“Right. So I sat down at the head of the table, on the opposite end from them, and they just watched me eat for like a solid five minutes. And then finally my dad said something. But that was even worse because he flat out asked me if I have a girlfriend. I got flustered and didn’t say anything, so they assumed that was a yes.”

“Okay, but at this point couldn’t you still clarify that you don’t have a girlfriend, right? Not to mention the fact that I’m a guy?”

“Oh it gets worse. They started going through a list of every girl they’d ever seen or heard me interact with, and when I said no to all of them, they decided that then would be a good time to clarify whether or not I actually have a girlfriend. I said no, and they asked who I spend all of my time texting. At this point I was wildly uncomfortable and wanted to leave as soon as possible, so I told the truth, and told them I was texting you. Then, they asked if you were my boyfriend and I kinda had a moment of gay panic and said yes.”

“I see. But why can’t you tell them the truth now?” TJ asked, trying desperately to make sense of Cyrus’s story.

“Because I am still digging myself into this hole. They invited you to this party they’re throwing, and I said that you’d come,” Cyrus confessed.“And I also made up a whole backstory for our relationship, to avoid telling them I lied.”

“Ah okay. So, what’s the backstory?” TJ asked, sitting up further, and moving backwards to sit against the wall behind his bed.

“It’s nothing special, it’s basically just our actual backstory, except you won the one-on-one with Buffy and when I congratulated you, you kissed me. And then we went on our first date that Friday. Which makes our anniversary the 28th of the month.”

“That’s fair. I swear I just had a question to ask- Oh! When’s the party I’m going to? And what should I wear?” TJ asked, counting questions on his fingers.

“Okay I kind of underexaggerated there,” Cyrus confided. “It’s not a party, per se. It’s kind of a charity ball? It’s also very very soon. Tomorrow night at 6, in the ballroom at Hancher Hall. Formal attire.”

“The things I do for you, Underdog. I’ll ask Amber to help me find a suit, Lord knows I have no sense of style.”

“Thank you thank you thank you!” he exclaimed, and TJ was sure Cyrus could have jumped through the screen to hug him if he tried hard enough.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Underdog,” TJ said fondly, hanging up the call.

TJ took a deep breath, standing outside Hancher Hall. He was wearing a dark green button down that brought out his eyes, a black suit jacket, and black pants. He’d lost his contacts that morning, so he was resorting to wearing his glasses. He finally stepped into the hall, and into the ballroom.

“TJ!” he heard a voice call from his left. TJ looked around, and his eyes settled on Cyrus and his parents.

TJ walked over to Cyrus and, remembering the role he was supposed to be playing, kissed him on the forehead in greeting, an arm wrapped around Cyrus’s waist.

“Hey, Underdog. You look great,” TJ said in reference to Cyrus’s dark blue suit, white button down, and black bowtie.

“Thank you! So do you, I’ve never seen you in a suit. It- well I was going to say it suits you but I am now seeing the fault in that particular phrasing. The point is, you look good in a suit, TJ. I like the green, it brings out your eyes.”

“Thanks, Underdog. Amber thought the green would be a good idea. She was right, as always,” TJ chuckled. “Oh God, don’t tell her I said that though. She’ll never let me forget it.”

“I won’t tell, I promise,” Cyrus held his hands up in surrender. “I’ll spare you from her wra-”

“Cyrus, are you going to introduce us to your boyfriend or not?” they were interrupted by Cyrus’s step-father, Todd, stepping forward to nudge his step-son, a glass of champagne in one hand.

“Oh! Yes,” Cyrus turned around to face all four of his parents, taking TJ’s hand and intertwining their fingers. “Mom, Dad. Step-mom, Step-dad. This is my boyfriend, TJ Kippen.”

“Hi, it’s great to finally meet you,” TJ smiled politely, extending the hand that wasn’t holding Cyrus’s to shake all four of their hands.

“How long have you been together?” Cyrus’s step-mom Sharon asked, shaking TJ’s hand with a smile.

“It’ll be four months on Tuesday, right TJ?” Cyrus interjected, realizing that TJ probably didn’t actually know that.

“Cyrus! Tuesday is the 27th, not the 28th, it’ll be four months on Wednesday,” Cyrus looked at him, astounded that he’d remembered. 

“Oh, you’re right! I could have sworn that today was the 26th. I’m sorry!” 

“Don’t worry about it, love,” TJ added the pet name at the last second. Cyrus’s phone started ringing at that moment, and he checked the screen.

“I’m sorry, this is Buffy. I’ll be right back,” Cyrus excused himself from the conversation, squeezing TJ’s hand as he left. TJ watched Cyrus step out of the ballroom, standing just in his line of sight as he held his phone to his ear, before turning back to the younger boy’s parents.

“So, do you play any sports, TJ?” Todd asked.

“Oh, yes. I’m the captain of the boys’ basketball team,” TJ stated, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Do you intend to break my son’s heart?” Cyrus’s father asked, unaware of the fact that Cyrus had hung up the phone and was now within ear shot. TJ took a moment to recover from the initial shock of the moment, considering what to say.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Cyrus, having heard his response, wrapped his arms around TJ’s waist, rising onto his toes to rest his chin on TJ’s shoulder. “Ah! Why hello there, Underdog.”

“Hi,” he whispered. “Can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?” TJ turned around, concerned.

“Oh, yeah! Everything’s fine, I just wanted to talk to you?” TJ nodded, allowing Cyrus to lead him out of the ballroom, weaving through silk, satin, and velvet skirts.

“So, are you sure everything’s alright?” TJ asked when they got outside the room.

“Yeah, I just- Um. I have something to tell you,” TJ gave him an inquiring look, urging him to keep going. “So, um… I just. I don’t want to pretend we’re in a relationship anymore.”

“You don’t? Do you want me to pretend to break up with you? Or the other way around? Why?”

“No, TJ. It’s not like that. I just- I want to actually be with you, TJ. I don’t want this to just be for tonight. I want this to be real, TJ,” TJ was stunned into silence. “And I get it if you don’t want this, or if you don’t even want to be friends anymore, but I had to tell-”

“Cyrus! I’ve been flirting with you for literal weeks. I don’t want this to be fake either.”

“Really? Because you don’t have to-” Cyrus was cut off by TJ leaning down to kiss him. Cyrus wrapped his arms around TJ’s neck, standing on his toes to be closer to the other.

“Are you gonna break my heart, TJ?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[smhtaehyung]

when all daisies disappear🌼|| chapter 16

• masterlist

• Pairing: taehyung x OC (mental hospital au)

• Genre: angst, fluff, smut, romance

• Word count: 4.7k

• Warning: swearing, will contain themes such as suicidal thoughts,depression and mentions of physical violence. Some of the backstory for Taehyung’s character is taken from the BTS concepts during the hyyh era. If you feel uncomfortable with the topic of mental illness, I advise you not to read further.

•••

chapter 16 ➸ 12🌼

It was day 2 after our passionately driven and heated night. Today, Tehyung pleaded me to go tonight. I agreed, feeling quite scared and unprepared. The truth was, no confidence could ever prepare me to leave this hospital. I was scared, lost, confused, but saw future in Taehyung's persuasions. Taehyung also barely slept those previous two nights, cuddling me up as he thought about our plan all those hours. No daisies were added to his side of the room, that I so oftenly spent time at and he surely forgot about all the pain as he cuddled me up to his chest. I've been looking at Jiyu for the entire day, hating the fact she doesn't know what's about to happen. Even looking at Minjee's smiles brings out a pained sting inside of my chest.

But the plan was definitely thought through, as much as it could be. First, and most important step was to not take any medication today. Taehyung wasn't supervised when he was taking the pills, so he easily hid them under his tongue. Jiyu's eyes kept staring me as I would take my medication, so Taehyung distracted her by his charming personality. She looked at him directly and that helped me spit out the pills onto my palm and put them inside my pocket. When her attention was turned to me, I opened my mouth as she looked inside of it, making me swirl my tongue so that she could make sure. I felt really bad as soon as I walked away with a relieved Taehyung next to me. Second step was to wait for the nurses to do their last check of rooms before going home. Till they do that, we would slowly start to pack, taking things that were only completely necessary for us to bring along. The third step would include waiting for the night guard to completely fall asleep, a maximum of an hour at the beginning of his shift. And the last, fourth step, was to kiss Taehyung and hope our plan would work out as we would quietly sneak out of the hospital.

"Mouse? You all packed up?" I questioned him as I observed his focused face on the objects and clothing next to him. I glanced at the clock, showing 11:51 PM. "Yeah, I'm trying to take things with me that are most important." He spoke, his focus on a light brown gym bag in front of him. "White shirts and pants?" I questioned. "Check." He quickly spoke, putting them inside the gym bag. "Underwear?" I curiously questioned. "Check." He giggled and put a few pairs inside. "Your sanitizing stuff?" I spoke, making him immediately nod. "Of course." He spoke and waited for me to continue. "Some money?" I asked. "Check." He spoke distantly, checking the money inside his pockets. "Food?" I questioned. "Some of it. You got some too inside you bag, right?" He spoke as he pointed to my black gym back. "Yeah." I immediately nodded. He stood quiet again, waiting for my question. I looked down and softly smiled. "Daisies?" I whispered, making his lips curl into a smile. "Only 12 of them. The ones you added a few days ago. They're the freshest ones. And the ones in your envelopes, but I think they're all withered by now." He quietly spoke, sounding a bit discouraged. I walked over to him and softly placed my hand on his cheek. I pecked his upper lip. "It's okay, Mouse. We'll pick out some daisies if we find a field when we're out." I smiled and detached my fingers from his soft cheek, barely being able to move my hand away.

He nodded and sent a smile my way. “Did you bring your letters?” He asked me, deeply staring into m eyes. “Yeah. To make more space, I had to move them out of the boxes and tie them up with ribbons. Thankfully, I managed to fit it all inside with my clothes and other stuff.” I explained and earned an acknowledgement nod from Taehyung. “You have some money too?” He questioned as I focused on zipping my bag up. “Yeah.” I slightly hesitated and answered, not wanting to tell him how I got more money. “You didn’t steal it, right?” He questioned, slight timidness showing in his voice. I slightly gulped and pretended I had to check something in my bag. “No.” I lied, trying to seem confident. “You wouldn’t lie to me, right?” He spoke in such a soft tone, it made my chest clench in pain over my lies. I shut my eyes tightly for a second, feeling pain and guilt slowly wash over me. “I wouldn’t.” I spoke and gathered some weak boldness as I faked a smile as soon as I spoke. “Okay.” He spoke in a unreadable tone, making me feel slightly scared and nervous. I tried to switch the topic fast. “Are we going to leave like-now?” I asked, making him slightly raise his eyebrows. “You can’t go outside wearing that t-shirt only. You’ll get cold. Take my sweater you so fondly took hold of.” He teased me, making my face slightly heat up. “Don’t be like that!” I exclaimed in slight embarrassment. I pulled out his sweater from my bag and put it onto myself, immediately feeling warmth come to me. Taehyung pulled me closer to him by holding my hips, his palm clenching for only a brief second. “Do you remember that?” He asked with a smirk, his eyes smiling at me too. I nodded and felt him kiss my cheek, making me giggle at his sudden action. “I mean, we had some nice moments in here.” He whispered as I held him by his neck. “Yeah. Definitely.” I spoke, both of us reminiscing about our days and nights in this place. “What’s your favourite moment?” I asked, focused on his perky ears that slightly twitched upon hearing my gentle voice. “Well, we’re standing on it.” He explained in a not understandable way, making me furrow my eyebrows in confusion. “We kissed the first time, right on this spot - only crunched down on the floor.” He spoke and looked down, giggling to himself. 

“And look at us now.” I slightly teased, making him show his signature boxy smile. I observed his lips for a few seconds before a wondering thought invaded my brain. “Would you consider yourself cured from your phobia?” I questioned him, stroking his cheek with my thumb. He looked up and started thinking about it. He hummed in a wondering tone, before moving his eyes down to mine and opening his mouth to speak. “I’m almost completely immune when I’m touching you, but if it were somebody else I don’t think I’d be able to handle that.” He spoke truthfully as I kissed the top of his nose. “You’re doing well, Mouse.” I praised him, making him feel all shy and flustered. “But, when you think about it-” He randomly spoke, making me snap my attention completely to his words. “We were supposed to have our touch therapy tomorrow, but isn’t that a bit ironic now?” Taehyung giggled in a dirty way, his hand sneaking down to gently grope my ass. I cover my face with my hands. “You little-” i tried to insult him but he cut off my words with a kiss planted onto my lips. “Let’s go.” He softly spoke, letting go of me. A sudden nervousness washed over me as he picked his bag up so carelessly. He already stood by the door, waiting for me. “You okay?” He asked in a worried tone once he saw my facial expression. “Uh? Y-yeah.” I mumbled and zipped my bag up completely, carrying it on my shoulder. I adjusted my backpack so it wouldn’t be a bother to my back too much. I walked over to the door and grabbed the doorknob. “Don’t be scared. You have me.” He spoke in a bright tone, making me feel somewhat at ease. I nodded a forced a comforting smile out. I quietly opened the door, peaking my head out. The guard was sound asleep, his back even turned to us. I took one last look inside the room on my bed where my letter to Jiyu was at. More of a note actually. A note that somehow tried to express tremendous gratitude and an apology, that just wasn’t enough and it never would be enough for running away like this.

“He’s deep asleep. Let’s go.“ I whispered and turned off the lights of the room. I opened the door fully, so Taehyung wouldn’t need to touch it. He entered the hallway as I quietly closed the door. Thankfully, the alarm of the ward was turned off, like many times, making all of us confused when realising such a thoughtlessness of it. Mouse walked in front of me, grabbing my hand as he guided us close to the wall. We slightly squatted and walked like that, making sure no light would hit us where we would appear visible in this dark hallway. We walked to the reception desk where his feet rested up on the counter, showing off his black polished shoes that desperately tried to look not worn off like they already were. Taehyung made eye contact with me immediately as he noticed the guard sightly shifting in his sleep. His eyes widened and the grip on my hand got stronger, both of our hearts stopping for a brief second in complete panic. We waited for a few more seconds until it was safe and quietly sneaked our way around the reception desk. “Let’s go.“ I sighed out and motioned for him to move. We slowly started to straighten our backs as we walked, getting to the end of the hallway. We walked to the ward exit, the light from the main hallway outside being our only source of light. We stood by the door, glancing at each other. I grabbed the heavy doorknob, getting ready to open it before both of us flinched upon hearing light steps walking to us. Mouse and I immediately caught eye contact with each other, busted written all over our faces.

"Guys?" We heard a familiarly soft voice speak. "Where are you going?" The same voice broke off  the heavy silence. I turned my head, nervousness washing all over me. “Minjee? What are you doing here, kiddo?” I softly whispered, hoping she wouldn’t make much noise. She was rubbing her tired out eyes trying to get a clear view of us. “Taehyung? What are you guys doing?” She softly spoke, making him nervously peek over to the reception if the guard woke up or not. “Minjee. Please whisper.” I whispered to her, getting closer. “We’re...uhm...we’re leaving.” I spoke, feeling my heart drop at the loss of words and explanations. Taehyung stared at the both of us, hating the fact she caught us like this because he knew it would break her heart in two.

"W-what? What do you mean?" She spoke, almost not whispering which made both Taehyung and I flinch in slight worry. "You guys can't leave." She spoke, her eyes starting to water. "Minjee, please. It's already hard for us to leave, don't make it harder." I spoke, furrowing my eyebrows in worry. "But why do you guys have to leave?" She spoke, her big doll eyes staring right through me. "We can't be here anymore, Minjee. The medication and everything, It's ruining us...it doesn't help at all. None of it." Taehyung tried to explain, looking at her with a look of hope that she would understand. "Why would you leave now, Jia? You've been here for so long-" She started speaking, making my chest feel heavy. "I can't deal with it anymore, Minjee. I want to go away with Taehyung." I spoke, stroking her hair. "But why?" She asked, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I love him. I can't let him go by himself." I explained and felt Taehyung stroke my hand. Minjee looked down and felt bad all of this was happening in front of her.

"Minjee-" Taehyung spoke, catching her attention. "Let us leave. Please. We are off to a new start. We'll be happy that way, and one day I'll make sure we visit you. Especially after you get out of here." He said in a bright tone, making Minjee nod in a slightly more relaxed way. "Promise?" She asked, her doll eyes appearing big even more. "I promise." He softly whispered, making her nod again. "Thank you kiddo. If they see you on the cameras after they realise we're gone, say you couldn't stop us or something, okay? Just don't get yourself too involved in it." I spoke and pulled her into my embrace, hugging her tightly. "I hope I'll see you soon." She spoke as she nuzzled her nose into my shoulder. "You too." I whispered and managed to move away, still staring at her. Taehyung leaned in and hugged Minjee, catching her off guard. He slightly stiffened and shut his eyes but managed to hold her like that for a few seconds. "Bye, Taehyung." She spoke in a sad tone, observing his taller figure. He pulled out a daisy from his pocket and offered it to her. "Here. You can compress it and tape it inside one of your journals. I'll make sure to give you a full bouquet once I see you again." He spoke and managed to curl his lips into a smile, a comforting smile appearing on her face too.

"See you, Minjee. Love you kiddo." I spoke as I quietly opened the door of the ward, letting Taehyung exit first. She started walking backwards as she waved at us, a slightly hurt and a discouraging look on her face. I turned around and walked to Taehyung, who hid behind the wall. I closed the heavy door after us and still observed Minjee's short figure through the blurry glass. At that moment, I couldn't decide if the glass seemed blurry because of its unique material, or if my tears made everything seem blurry and not visible.

Both of us decided to hold back our emotions until we got out, so we observed if the reception of the main hallway was clear. We sneaked by the reception desk, noticing that no guards were there. The only safe way out was the staircase. We knew we couldn't leave on the main exit because of the guards there, that unlike our ward's, were very awake and professional. Taehyung wanted to instantly go for the staircase, but I quickly pulled him back. “Wait.” I panically whispered. “We need the key of the back exit. It must be somewhere here behind the reception desk” I quickly whispered, making Taehyung immediately focus on my lips and quiet words. Before he could offer to find them, I spoke up. ”Let me find them.“ I whispered and slowly straightened my back. “Wait by the staircase doors. There, in that shadow.” I spoke and pointed to the shadow that would make him appear less visible than standing in the bright light, just in case someone sees us. He nodded and quickly walked over there, nervously observing my actions. I began looking around for the keys, checking every drawer as quietly as I could. 

I heard some steps in the far distance of the long hallway, making me search faster. The steps stopped, making me less panicked. I took a final look through the guards jacket, and stuck my hands in the pockets of it. I finally heard the rattling sound of the keys, feeling the hard metal in my hands. I smiled in relief and held the keys tightly in my hand. I immediately recognized the shape of those keys, the entrance doors always having weirdly shaped and quite heavy keys. Taehyung sighed in relief as he stared at me. “C’mon, let’s go.” He whispered, his deep toned voice slightly breaking through. I accidentally glanced to the computer screen to my right, making me immediately freeze. I took a closer look, stepping towards it to make sure it was what I in fact saw. Taehyung observed me in confusion, light nervousness washing over him as we both started hearing those steps from the end of the hallway, this time not stopping, and this time becoming louder and louder. My eyes weren’t tricking me. It really was what I saw. I was a list. A list of names of visitations today. Under our ward’s column it was my mother’s name. Today. She wanted to visit me today. Immediate pain washed over me. My own mother wanted to see me today but thought I was still in my stubborn faze of hatred towards her and the others. My own mother wanted to visit me today, but all she probably got were a few words from Jiyu, telling her I was doing okay. Or maybe Jiyu told her I wasn’t doing so okay. Maybe Jiyu even mentioned I had fallen in love. Or told my mother I resolved things with the little earmuff girl I held a grudge against. Did she tell her I’ve been smiling a lot more? Did she tell her a lovely boy surprised me with her own letters, wanting to make sure I read them all? 

“Jia. We need to go.” Taehyung whispered, begging me with his own voice. “Wait. I need t-to see.” I stuttered in a whisper, clicking on her name to check the history of visitations. I ignored the steps that seem to become louder, focusing on all the dates my mother wanted to visit. There were hundreds and hundreds of documented visitations that I never got. As my eyes painfully observed the bright screen that brought nothing but pain. I knew for a fact one thing. I needed to visit my mother. As soon as we get out. I need to see her. As we get out. Getting out. Are we really getting out? “Jia, what the fuck are you doing? Let’s go.” Taehyung’s agitated and scared tone broke of my loud thoughts, making me move in sudden nervousness. He grabbed my hand as I tightly held onto him, both of us running to the door of the stairway. I opened the metal green door and let Taehyung enter first. I gently closed the door after us and without a though started going down the staircase to the back exit. I felt myself become dizzy, all these thoughts controlling my body and that fragile sanity spot of my mind. I held my tears away, trying to not focus at him, as I knew it would only make me cry. “Ji, wait. Are you okay? What stopped you up there?” He softly spoke, trying to make sure if I was feeling bad or not. “Let’s just get out of here. Quickly.” I spoke as I ignored his figure that followed me to my side. He desperately tried to look to my face that I managed to hide so successfully. Taehyung started to worry a lot, seeing me act up all scared and upset. With quiet steps, we managed to silently pass another floor down.  I reached the ground floor first and stood in front of the back exit door. I fiddled with the keys for a few seconds, but managed to unlock the door. I stepped outside and felt emotion wash over me like it would before of a bad episode. The sudden feeling of freedom did not feel as freeing as I would have expected it to be. It all felt rather scary and unknown, something that violently broke through the bubble of the things I knew. That air felt different from the one on the roof. When we were on the roof, we knew that we could get back to our warm room and let the kisses warm each other’s stomach up. This felt too real, and I felt like that scared 12 year old that desperately wanted to seek safety that a world couldn’t offer. 

The sound of the doors closing behind me, made me turn towards him. My eyes couldn’t hold my tears back anymore, making them roll of my cheeks so easily. “Ji-” Taehyung spoke, immediately wrapping me in for a hug. He held me tightly, making it not readable if he was stiffening under my touch or if he genuinely wanted to hold me tightly. “What did you see, baby? What’s wrong?” His soft voice spoke to me as he gently stroked my hair. Through the sobs, I managed to let a few words out, feeling so vulnerable and weak in front of him. “My mother visited me. She’s been visiting me through all these years, b-but I’m such a selfish asshole, too self-centred to think about her or anyone.” I cried into his chest, immediately telling him everything that was on my mind. “You’re not like that Ji. At least not anymore.” He softly spoke back. “It’s going to be okay. It all surprised you a bit, now it’s okay. We can visit her if you want once we find somewhere to stay.” He whispered, his palms not being able to detach from my soft hair. “R-really?” I spoke, looking into his eyes. He wiped the tear the was sliding down my cheek, making sure it wouldn’t roll down to my neck. “Of course.” He spoke as he slowly blinked, still having me close to him. I looked down and after a few long seconds broke the silence off by speaking. “How can you even handle my outbursts like these so well?” I asked, not wanting to look into his eyes. “I’m handling them well? I had no idea.” He spoke in a bright manner, wanting to make me smile. I slightly managed to smile, looking down to his pretty hands. “Some of them are not really understandable, but ones like these - I get them. It’s hard to run away from a place you grew to know as home. All because of a stupid daisy boy.” He spoke, making me giggle at his foolish insult to himself. 

“See, at least me insulting myself will always make you laugh.“ He giggled, making me move away and softly smile. “You can call me Rat again if that makes you feel better.“ He spoke and I widened my eyebrows with a smile as I began walking out of the alley with Taehyung hurriedly following my steps. “I hated calling you Rat, even when it sounded endearing.“ I confessed, adjusting the bag so it wouldn’t feel too heavy on my shoulder. “What? I loved when you called me Rat! It was so ironic it became adorable.“ He enthusiastically said, the light from the street softly reflecting onto his face once we reached the exit of the dark alley. Calling it adorable made my cheeks slightly blush like a little child’s, my thoughts turning from bad ones to good ones in just a matter of seconds. I started feeling positive energy pass from Taehyung onto me, making me believe this really wasn’t a bad idea after all. Maybe life with Taehyung was all I ever needed. A boy like that, away from thoughts and that hospital that would only keep killing him. As foolish and dangerous as this was, I found safety in Taehyung’s words, even if his jokes tried to make him more brave too. I took my hand in his and as soon as I felt my fingers wrap around his, I felt safe.

“But you definitely prefer me calling you Mouse.“ I spoke, making him smile upon feeling my small hand barely wrap around half of his palm. “Of course I do. I told you to call me Mouse when you were pretending to hate me and all that act.“ He spoke, playfully rolling his eyes. “Why that tone?! You genuinely frustrated me.“ I loudly whispered, looking around the open streets once we started walking on them. “I only frustrated you because you were falling for my charms.” He confidently said, no joking tone to be found in his voice whatsoever. “Oh, shut up.” I annoyingly spoke, making him giggle at my facial expression. After a few seconds of walking and a few seconds of my fingers brushing against his, I broke off the silence by speaking. “Thanks for making me laugh, Mouse. It makes me feel so much better.” I spoke and shyly looked down to my feet. “Of course.” He spoke in a reassuring tone and kissed my cheek as we continued to walk. I broke the silence off, this time in a comedic manner. “Now can you tell me where the fuck are we going?” I spoke, immediately hearing him chuckling because of my direct tone. He softly sighed and opened his mouth to speak, trying to find the right words. “To a place that used to be my home. Maybe we’ll find someone there too.“ He spoke, his fingers holding tightly onto mine. “Where you and your friends used to live?” I timidly asked. “Yeah.” He spoke in a slight nervous manner. “I know that one of them is there definitely. Our oldest hyung.” He spoke and looked down to his feet. “Had a bad last encounter with him?” I asked, aware of the situation. He nodded and softly sighed. I stopped him for a second, turning his body towards me. 

I slightly tiptoed and pressed my lips onto his to comfort him. He responded with a kiss back as his tongue playfully licked my bottom lip. I smiled and pulled away, taking a hold of his hand again. We continued walking next to each other. Taehyung immediately spoke after taking a first step. “I knew you were going to kiss me.” He softly spoke, giggling to himself. I glanced at him and smiled. “Well you don’t have to be a prophet to foresee such a thing.” I said and sent him a convincing look. “Touché.” He honestly spoke, shrugging the situation off.

•••

We walked for a long time, through many dark and bright streets that each carried some style and types of people walking on them. When I used to walk on the streets as I kid, I was never allowed to walk on them past 10 PM. It was always too dangerous, and my mother wanted to protect me as much as she could. And because I was a quite paranoid child, I wouldn’t even walk on them past 9. Being here with Taehyung on these streets, after midnight, made me enter a completely new side of the city. I forgot how the streets looked, how the convenience stores looked, even the parks, that at this hour seemed so scary and unsafe. But to not remember the streets of a city you live in was already a scary thought.

“We’re here.“ He nervously spoke, walking out of the dark street that had a creative graffiti drawn onto it. He stared at some kind of a abandoned school complex, resembling a hideout for hobos. I timidly followed his steps, desperately hoping he was not serious. He softly stroked my hand, reassuring me it was okay. We entered through the old wooden door, some lights from the a distance helping us see. Someone really was there as Taehyung predicted. “Were you guys homeless?“ I asked, observing at confused Taehyung who looked to that same light. I immediately caught a reaction from him after he heard me speak. “We just had nowhere to go.“ He truthfully spoke, guiding my hand to walk with him. Suddenly, a sound of an old piano echoed through the room, making both of us shiver at the mellow sound of a beautiful melody. Taehyung’s eyes burst out emotion that I couldn’t really grasp upon. 

I walked with him, who nervously yet quickly walked towards the melody. He stood in silence once he reached close enough to a man that played the piano so wonderfully. Another voice from their improvised bathroom to the left came, making Taehyung’s eyes shot in that direction. “Hyung?“ Mouse nervously spoke, clearly not expecting to see this piano friend of his. The man stopped playing the piano as soon as he heard Taehyung’s voice. “What are you doing here?“ Taehyung asked, holding my hand tightly.

part 17

[gentleknj]

consequences (part 2) | kth

✧ pairing: kim taehyung x reader / crime au

✧ genre: angst, light smut, breaks of fluff because i needed to break up all that angst.

✧ word count: over 6k  ✧ summary:  This is a love story of two people, told in chronological order. Lovers on the lam was never going to be an easy feat. But falling in love wasn’t any easier than robbing a bank, especially if your love thrives in the midst of a drug war. One from a broken home and the other from an underground drug world, will this love triverse the odds or will it succumb to its demise?

✧ warnings: heavy swearing, familial issues, cheating, slight gore, mentions of drugs, guns, serious crimes, death, and alcohol. If you are easily triggered/very sensitive i recommend you not reading this. i’ve said it before and i will continue to say this until i run out of words to write. I would rather have 0 readers than harm anyone. enjoy. X

(ps i am so so sorry this is so late, but i promise the next chapter will be over 10k and there will be more backstory for both y/n and taehyung as well. thank you for the continued support, and i hope it lives up to your expectations)

masterlist

Love. A completely foreign concept to the blonde man, a feeling he thought he had only felt many years ago when his mother was still alive. But such a out-of-the-box feeling resonated from the figure beside him. Whatever he was developing with you, he knew it had to be protected and he would stop at nothing to do so.

It truly was astonishing how there was even any room for oxygen in the office, the tension thick enough to disperse the hydrogen from the oxygen atoms themselves. Jin’s hardset eyes continued to lock with Taehyung’s. The latter still found it harder to breathe, despite keeping his resolve. The older man waved gently for Laura to shut the door, making a tsk sound when she tried to leave while doing so. The sound alone drove chills down your spine as if it were some warning signal that only went off to alert full hell had broken loose.

“Laura, dear, please do stay. I think you’d at least like to get a goodbye in if this whole ordeal goes south.” Jin’s voice was sweet like honey, only stinging like the bee it was made from. Such a handsome man, kind and gentle looking, but his soft features were a ploy to deter you from the malevolence brewing inside.

The blonde woman swallowed thickly before doing as told, closing the door to cut off the party unfolding beneath them.

“Now, I’m aware that Mr. Jeon has told you about a job tonight, is that correct?” Jin spoke as he shifted his position, resting against the front of the doe eyed boys desk flatly on his palms. The tone of his voice kept Taehyung on edge, his digits sweating against yours as he gripped you tightly, stepping in front of you just a fraction. “Ah, well, there have been a tiny change in plans. You see, what you collect tonight is to be returned here to me. Of course, you all get your cut, but only what is seen fit for the effort I see you put in.”

“Sure. It doesn’t bother me either way. I drop a few bodies, hand you your shit and leave.” The blonde male fired, feline eyes never leaving his targeted audience.

“Mm. I see.” Jin reached up to gently rub his chin in what seemed to be annoyance, quickly standing to his full height as he adjusted his expensive blazer. “You and Jungkook are to head to the docks and disband this poker game to bring me my payout.” His expression was now calm, unreadable almost as he sat further onto the edge of the wooden desk.

“But it’s mine, is it not?” Jungkook’s features were hard, emotionless save for the quick tilt of his head to the side. Taehyung knew that gesture all too well, his friend was ready to pounce and quite literally rip apart Jin’s throat in pure anger despite, howbeit, his formalities still lacing his voice. “Those men owe me, sir. I don’t mind splitting my profit 70-30 with you-”

“You expect me to take such a low share when I’m doing you a favor and not putting a bullet between your lady’s eyes after taking her on your desk in front of you? Hmm?”

He was egging Jungkook on, enjoying the rise he was getting out of him. Your free hand lent itself outwards to Laura, her hand welcoming yours immediately. Taehyung swallowed thickly, releasing your hand before outstretching his towards Jin. ”You have a deal,” The younger verbally sealing the negotiation. “My only request is that our girls are monitored among the guests downstairs. None of your men, or you, get alone time with them. You wouldn’t want us to focus on their safety while we’re gone and fuck up the job, would you?”

Taehyung was charismatic, it was hard to say no to him whenever he made any kind of business transactions. He radiated confidence even if his life was on the line. Jin turned his attention to the blonde man, eyebrows raising slightly as his expression became furthermore unreadable. Minutes passed silently as they looked at one another, the latter’s hand still outstretched causing your heart to pound with the muted bass from downstairs.

“We have a deal. 50-50, and the ladies join the party downstairs. I’ll have my men posted at every door, and if you or your ladies try anything, our deal is off. Do I make myself clear?”

The agreement was then made by the chorus of hums in agreeance, guns lowered and tucked away as Jungkook was released. The brunette boy wasted no time in making his way to his girlfriend, his emotions etched into his face. The tension was still residing in the stuffy office and the purple haired man nodded towards the door.

The four of you were to follow Namjoon to the room down the hall to equip the two men before they headed out for the night, the door slightly ajar as Jin’s voice rang out.

“Oh and boys,” He smiled smugly, taking a seat in the lavish chair behind Jungkook’s desk. “Don’t take too long, I may charge a late fee if you do. I’ll choose which of the girls will repay me for the time you waste of mine.” Taehyung grasped the younger boys arm firmly at his words and shoved him further down the hallway before he could reply with some remark that would guarantee the deal would be off.

Twenty minutes later, the two of you were stood outside in the cobblestone driveway. Jungkook had said his goodbye to Laura before he left the house, instructing her to take care of herself by any means until he returned. The blonde mans eyes were fixed on yours, his hands taking yours firmly.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t go anywhere alone and keep in mind what I taught you about close combat.”

“Tae, I’m not seven. I can handle myself if I feel my life is in immediate danger.”

“I know that. I just needed to hear it. I’ll call you when we’re coming back and then you and I can leave alright? I heard Yoongi’s got us a penthouse suite for the week and a run for us to do.”

“I don’t want to think about that until you’re back in one piece, got it? Focus on getting you and Jungkook back safely and then we can talk about the next run.” Your hand moved to cup his cheek gently, your teeth worrying into your lower lip as you paused. It was hard to grow attached to someone, let alone someone like him, a complete mystery. But the affliction that brewed in the pit of your stomach was hard to suppress. You had given your heart completely to him and you hoped he knows it. Falling in love wasn’t something you ever wanted to do, love never existing in your upbringing, but it sure did have a hold on your heart when you looked at him.

“I promise.” He nodded, tangling your free pinky with his own before leaving a chaste kiss to your forehead.

Within minutes, the car had disappeared into the traffic of the night, the pale woman beside you reminding you to join her inside. The heavy feeling that plagued your chest was one Taehyung felt himself. Only, he couldn’t focus on it, but instead the man beside him and the mission at hand.

Jungkook is amazing on his feet, agile and intelligent, he was a great man to fight beside. The tension that radiated from his body and filled the car, however, was something the younger man was always struggling to subdue behind a facade of indifference.

“They’ll be fine, you know.” The older of the two spoke, checking the magazine of his silenced .9mm as his friends knuckles turned pale at the intensity of his grip. “Even if that bastard wanted to put his hands on her, you know she could-”

“Just shut the fuck up, hyung. I don’t need to keep the image of him laying hands on her in the front of my mind. It’s bad enough he fucking came to my home.” Jungkook all but growled, jaw tight as the traffic heading to the docs blurred by.

The blonde man sat tight lipped the rest of the way, a frown remaining prominent on his otherwise model like features. Once the two arrived, there wasn’t much security for the game that nestled itself in a freight container, sitting against the waterside. The headlights of the car were turned off as they parked a few containers down, scoping out the area for any unexpected onlookers or security. Gun silencers in place, mags full and hearts silently racing, the two snuck amongst the shadows to the entrance and easily took out the two hefty guards. But not before one of them got a good left hook in on Taehyung, his lip splitting at the harsh contact. It only egged his anger and discomfort of the entire situation on further.

Loud music pumped through the metal container to muffle the chatter of the older men inside, the bickering amongst who was bluffing and playful banter about the others abilities at poker. It was almost a shame to break up such a domestic get together, as domestic as drug kingpins could get on a weeknight.

The brunette nodded his chin towards the opening gap of the container and the two stepped fluidly inside, neither hesitating to put a bullet between the two goons’ eyes that stood to overlook the game. The six men sat around the poker table shouted in a mixture of shock and anger upon the interruption.

“Ah, Mr. Jeon. I see you’re here to collect your money personally, eh?” The eldest man sat at the far end of the table spoke after they had quieted down, all eyes on the two young men with gun sights that moved between each of the elders.

“Something like that.” Jungkook quipped, a small smirk making an appearance. “I grew impatient of waiting. I have people to pay off as well, you see, it isn’t just about you.”

Laughter boomed from the bold man, hands moving to swipe through his taut hair, glasses dropping to the tip of his nose. “Young man, there is such thing as patience-”

“Cut the shit, Ahn, we aren’t here to talk. We’re here to get what you owe my friend here and leave. Now, either you can give us the fucking money, or we’ll put a bullet through your head and take your fucking pals out as well.” Taehyung made his way to the other side of the container to press the tip of his silencer firmly to the back of the man’s head, annoyance bubbling through his veins.

The smoke from the abandoned cigarettes around the table made the air thicker, apprehensive glances shared between the two boys. Neither one of them taken seriously by the gangsters sat before them. Each men in the room had their fair share of guns pointed at their skulls, so this was nothing new. But they needed to be provoked into cooperation and Taehyung was getting impatient as the thought of you being alone at the manor creeped up his spine.

Dry laughter befell the older men and that seemed to only heighten the blonde’s annoyance, his gun swiftly shifting momentarily to lodge a bullet in the man beside Mr. Ahn. The men’s head made a loud thudding sound as it hit the table, the laughter ceasing between the older men.

“Christ..” Mr. Ahn sighed, motioning to the three duffle bags sat in the corner of the container. “Your fucking money is in there. Take it and leave.”

Jungkook nodded, lowering his gun before shouldering two of the duffle bags and motioning for his friend to take the other.

“Don’t even think about retaliation, sir. I know where your daughter and her three children live.” The youngest man threw a smirk over his shoulder before taking a leave through the slightly ajar doors.

The walk wasn’t very far to the car although their pace was swift, the trunk opening upon a simple press of a button from the keychain that sat comfortably in Jungkook’s hand. The two boys shared a silent congratulatory nod as the duffles were stuffed in the trunk. The hour long drive back was now the only thing left of this fucked situation.

Back at the manor, Laura had flit between small groups of party guests to do her best at keeping the anxiety of the situation at bay. You on the other hand, gripped the mostly full bottle of soju in your hands, knee bouncing up and down as you sat on the bar stool that hugged the in-home bar. It was hard to keep the gnawing thoughts of negativity from clouding your mind. And the smug look on Seokjin’s face from the far end of the room didn’t help ease your mind one bit. You could feel his eyes boring into your skin, making you feel small and under a magnifying glass.

You had been too caught up in nursing the tiniest of sips from your bottle that you hadn’t noticed someone sat down beside you.

“You’re kind of cute when you’re frightened.” Namjoon chuckled before ordering a drink of his own.

“Oh, piss off.” You hissed, your nose scrunching slightly as you tucked into the bar counter further, eyes scanning the front door periodically in hopes of seeing the man that made you feel safe.

“Mm, feisty.” The purple haired man shook softly with laughter, sipping from his freshly made drink. “You know, you should ease up a little bit. We aren’t as fucked up as you’re making us out to be.”

“Oh yeah?” You finally looked at him, brows knotting together. If he wasn’t so intimidating and on the ‘opposing team’ you would’ve found him to be much cuter than your senses would allow. He’s probably a nice man, but right now you could only think about the million and one ways he could put you in danger right now with a simple signal from his boss just over 10 feet away.

He simply nodded, eyeing you over the rim of his glass. But before the conversation could carry out, you had anxiously glanced at the front door for the umpteenth time that night and were pleasantly overwhelmed by what you saw. You didn’t owe Namjoon a polite excuse before jumping from your seat, feet shuffling quickly through the intoxicated bodies.

Your hands immediately cupped Taehyung’s face to give his features a good look over, noting his split lip and deciding to ask him about it later before pulling him into the tightest hug you could manage. He’d only been gone maybe three hours, tops, but after growing used to doing any runs with him, this felt like you’d been apart for too long. Relief finally flooded through you when he let out a laugh at your actions, duffle dropping to beside his feet to wrap his arms around your frame.

Your embrace was short lived when none other but Seokjin himself interrupted with an unamused clearing of his throat. “Shall we head to the office, boys?” He spoke, a wry smile making an appearance.

Jungkook waved his girlfriend over with a small smile, the two interlacing hands before the four of you followed behind Jin to the office you met in earlier. The air seemed to be just as tense as a few hours ago, duffle bags making a quiet thud against the hardwood of the desk. 3.5 billion won sat comfortably between the three large bags, each bundle of money counted twice to ensure the full payout was there. Half was taken by Hoseok and Namjoon down to their leader’s car as the aforementioned man stayed behind, hand outstretched to Jungkook.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Jeon.” A cheshire cat smile making an appearance as the two shook hands.

Jungkook had stayed silent in response as Taehyung shook Jin’s hand as well, the older male leaving immediately after. You let out a heavy sigh, unaware that you had been holding your breath that entire time. And now that you could relax, the dried blood that sat against Taehyung’s swollen lip brought itself to the front of your mind once more.

“Christ, what happened?” You frowned, brows furrowing as you tilted his chin to get a better look at the bruising area.

Instead of answering, he simply sucked in a quiet breath when your fingertip ghosted over the wound sat proudly on his plump lip. A ‘tsk’ sound fell from your own lips, his face being tugged down gently by your hands as you leaned up on your toes to place a firm kiss to his forehead. Your fingers laced with his when Jungkook spoke up, Taehyung’s chest blooming with warmth at your simple actions. He hadn’t felt someone care about his injuries, however minor they may be in this case, since primary school.

“Goodness, what am I to do with you, raindrop?” Her voice was hoarse from the medication pulsing through the IV. “What happened?” She tried again, this time with a new softness in her tone.

The small boy looked at the floor, eyes brimming with embarrassed tears. “The boys at school told me I looked like I was poor. And they said mean things about you so I pushed one of them and told them they were stupid.” His voice broke as the tears spilled, tiny hands clinging to the soft fabric of her sweater.

Gentle coos filled the room along with his sobs. Her tired arms mustered as much strength as she could to pull him up into her lap as she sat at the edge of the bed, fingers carding through his messy brown locks slowly.

“It’s okay, raindrop. They don’t know any better, okay? Their parents didn’t take the time to tell them right from wrong. Now how about this, hmm? You and I can go down to Myeongdong tomorrow and do some clothes shopping okay? It’s going to be okay, baby.” She paused, pulling away enough to make eye contact with the sad boy in her arms. “I’ll make it all better, I promise you. But you have to promise to never get sent home from school for some dumb fight. Got it?”

He nodded hurriedly, afraid that if he even missed a beat that she would be disappointed in any hesitation. Any over thought reaction. She was all he had, and he couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen if he made her hate him. Although, what he didn’t know, was that his mother wasn’t wired to hate the small, intelligent and kind boy that sat in her lap with snot and tears claiming their spot on his small, puffy face.

The two men bid their goodbyes after splitting the cash evenly, the younger of the two muttering an apology before whisking away his girlfriend to be a host of the party still carrying out strong on the floor below. The anxiety finally subsided as Taehyung’s hand laced with yours, a nod towards the door for a silent understanding of much needed rest. Although, with the amount of fear you had during this evening’s events; you were sure that it would be near sunrise that the two of you would finally be getting some sleep.

AUGUST.

-

Today had been marked the hottest day of the year, lucky for you two, you were calmly sat in the large apartment Yoongi rented out. From the windows, you could see all of Daegu. Soft chatter from some droning newscaster about a convenience store robbery from yesterday. Your hip rested against the grand piano Yoongi had bought and occasionally played when he stayed at the apartment between jobs. The sun beat down on the lively city, people going about their day and completely unaware of your actions the previous day. More so, they knew what you’d done, but not that it had been you.

Taehyung had gotten stir crazy, going on about how he had been itching to get his hands on actual cash and not on the cold plastic of the card his friend set up for money to be wired to for jobs. So, on a complete impulse, the two of you drove to the edge of town and robbed the fourth convenience store since last month. The registers were never full of enough money to raise eyebrows, but close to a million won was enough to report to the police.

Adrenaline, pure and hot as it coursed through your body. The balaclava snug against your skin, leaving your eyes and lips exposed. Two things Taehyung couldn’t quite get enough of. A friend of Yoongi’s, Park Jimin, decided he would be an accomplice so long as he got a third of whatever proceeds the two of you were able to get.

The van circled the block twice, the three of you scouting for any ‘heros’ that would come to the rescue of the young, unwary cashier that sat inside. Business was slow and there were hardly any people roaming the streets. What a perfect opportunity. Taehyung dialed Jimin’s cell, instructing him to keep it on speaker and sit around the block with the van running so they could make a smooth getaway.

The orange haired man was obedient to his friends instructions as he adjusted his sunglasses higher on the bridge of his nose. “Good luck, I’ll be here.” A soft smile was hidden behind his mask as the three nodded to one another.

Your feet carried in sync with the tall blonde’s, hands entwined while you entered the store. No customers were inside, the adrenaline subduing slightly. Taehyung held the trash bag open as you pointed the gun at the cashier, heart pounding loudly in your ears.

“Clean the register out!” You shouted, pacing slightly as you glanced around the store once more. “And don’t you fucking get ballsy kid. I won’t hesitate to fucking shoot you.”

Tears began pouring from the young man’s face and you felt a little guilty, this had to’ve been his first job. Ironed work vest, naive. He followed directions well enough, though, emptying the entirety of the register into the bag Taehyung had held out, gun tucked into the back of his pants snugly.

But before either of you could register the older woman that came out of the backroom, she fired a shot. It rung out in your ears as you turned to the source, morals out the window as you fired not once, but twice at her. The young boy had taken this opportunity to book it out of the store, jumbled words falling from Taehyung’s lips.

As your heart nearly stopped, you grabbed the bag from the tan boy’s hands, wrapping an arm around his waist to help him out to the van that now sat with the backdoor opened and a very panicked Jimin in the driver’s seat.

“Fuck! Step on it! Get us to the fucking apartment!” Taehyung’s body thudded into the bed in the back of the van, the door sloppily slamming shut as the orange haired male did as instructed, speeding off down various streets in an effort to not seem suspicious.

“Baby, you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay.” You cried, tearing the wool fabric from your face as well as his to hold your hair back.

Your hands were covered in blood, the bullet luckily hitting his lower left abdomen where there would be less chance of any major organs being completely thrashed.

“Fuck, J-Jimin! Learn to fucking drive, huh?” Taehyung shouted, face growing pale.

Sweat beaded on his hairline, large hands enclasping yours to add pressure to the wound. “Call Hyunsik and tell him to meet us at Yoongi’s place.” You shouted over your shoulder as the van haphazardly pulled into the basement parking lot of the apartment complex. Luckily enough, if you insert a special card into the elevator then you can bypass the front desk and any staff that would inevitably ask questions. “Baby, you’ll be okay. I’ve got you, okay?” You tried once more, reaching a hand up to brush hair out of your boyfriend’s face, blinking away the tears that spilled.

It was no easy feat to support Taehyung’s weight as you and Jimin helped him into the elevator, the phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear as he helped lean his friend against the elevator wall. Within the span of twenty minutes you had gone from an adrenaline junky to a complete mess. The man you cared so deeply for was now bleeding on you, losing consciousness as you made it to the dining room table of the apartment. The blood trailing itself from the elevator and across the white tiles.

Within minutes, you had managed to follow the instructions being given over the phone as Hyungsik informed you that he would be there in ten minutes. The blood was staining your hands at this point, tears mixing with sweat as you inspected for the exit wound.

“Yeah, yeah- There’s an exit hole, fuck! Please-” You sniffled, trying your best to remain level headed as every emotioned flooded through your head at once. “Please hurry.”

As he promised, ten minutes had passed and the elevator doors opened, a tall man in workout clothes entered the apartment. The size of the first aid kit in his hand looked more than equipped with whatever he could possibly need. But the amount of blood Taehyung had lost was more than any kind of first aid kit could even dream of having. Of course, medical TV shows were almost never correct in their diagnosis considering 90% of them were all fictional or dramas.

“He’s going to need blood.” Hyunsik spoke, gloves already on and kit opened beside the now pale man splayed on the table.

“Take mine.” Without a second thought you began searching for a tourniquet amidst the supplies. “I-I have O Negative, I can give to anyone. Please.” your eyes met the older man’s as tears blurred your vision.

A quiet nod was given as you sat at the head of the table, hands running through Taehyung’s hair in an effort to calm his grunts of pain. An IV was started as best as an at home one could be, your attention shifting to the pacing man across the room.

“Jimin,” Your voice shook. Clearing your throat as the orange haired man turned his attention to you, he looked almost as helpless as you felt. “Call Yoongi, please and let him know what happened okay? And- and figure out a way to clean up all the blood so we don’t get caught and you can have my share of what we took, okay?”

A sigh fell from his lips as he shook his head, long strides carrying him to the elevator as he dialled who you assumed was Yoongi. This was supposed to be simple, get in, intimidate the kid and get the cash. That was it. How could this have gotten so fucked in such a short amount of time?

A soft groan of your name came from the room down the hall, your thoughts interrupted by the sound. Padding quietly to the source, worry etched itself onto your features as you stood in the bedroom doorway. The curtains had been closed and a humidifier infused with lavender were all an attempt to keep the tan boy you’d grown very, very fond of, calm.

“Y/n.” He called again, arm over his eyes so he hadn’t a clue that you had been standing there.

“I’m here baby.” You started, carefully moving further into the room. “Are you okay?”

He jumped slightly at the closeness of your voice, the darkness concealing the majority of your figure, sve for the soft glow from the humidifier. But in the sudden movement, he winced and you could feel your chest tighten at the sound. His hand came down to pat the bed beside him, a pout forming on his pink lips. A quiet giggle escaped your mouth at the sight, he resembled a small child who was needy for affection and it made your heart swell. To see him acting normal like this after the events of yesterday was enlightening to say the least.

Once sat beside him, your hand gently brushed through his hair as the other carefully lifted the covers to investigate the large bandage that sat above his hip. He was lucky enough that the woman had bad aim and missed his organs. He sure was happy that he had gained a little bit of extra weight or else he probably wouldn’t have survived. That, and the handiwork of Hyunsik who, luckily enough, works at the hospital but is close friends to Tae as well as Yoongi, so this kind of a call wasn’t anything out of the ordinary for him.

While you were lost in your thoughts, eyes glued to the injury, the blonde took a moment to admire your features, soft with a warm glow from the light of the humidifier, relentlessly beautiful. And as if he were a mad man, his large hands grasped your cheeks gently, tugging your face to his to place a firm kiss to your lips. He felt intoxicated when he kissed you, like nothing in the world went wrong and you were the only other person on the planet with him.

The hum you let out against his lips caused a wide, boxy smile to appear. One you hadn’t seen fully since before Kim Seokjin appeared that night in Jungkook’s office. The butterflies were entirely mutual, but he hadn’t a clue that they were. To anyone outside of the relationship, it was obvious you were in love. Madly in love.

But the words that hung at the back of your throat didn’t have the courage to climb out and make themselves known. Pulling his thoughts back to reality, admittedly yours as well, his large palm skimmed down your neck and down between your breasts, trailing down your stomach as he finally rested it in your lap. Long fingers tugged at the fabric of his sweats that adorned your body, his teeth capturing your lower lip between his to graze his pearly whites over. The feeling caused you to moan into his mouth, hands moving to push gently at his shoulders.

“You’re hurt baby, we can’t do that.” Bashful giggles left your mouth as you leaned back against your palms, your eyes meeting his.

He sported a very unconvincing pout, the corners of his lips tugging as you squinted at him. “That doesn’t mean I can’t make you feel better. You are taking care of me afterall, like some kind of hot nurse.”

“Oh, no no. No foreplay, no sex, no nothing until you’re better. I know you’re tough, but I don’t want to hurt you even more okay? It was my fault anyways that you got hurt.” Your eyes fell to your lap were your hands now sat, guilt eating at your mind.

“What the fuck?” The volume of his voice took you by surprise, your eyes meeting once more. “You know that isn’t true.”

“I could’ve checked the store better before just pointing a gun in that kids face.” God, you felt like you’d let him down.

“Hey, neither of us expected there to be anyone else. I could’ve checked the store too, you know? It’s not your fault, I want you to know that.” Large, warm hands took yours, tugging you to lay beside him on the bed. “We both could’ve done better at checking, but you got me to the van. I remember little...snippets, if you will, of you helping hyung. If it wasn’t for you, I probably wouldn’t have made it. Okay?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice now. Instead, you carefully tucked into his side, your face seeking a home in the crook of his neck. The two of you laid like this for a while in silence until Taehyung switched on the tv, flicking through the channels aimlessly. That is until the CCTV screencap of the two of you robbing the convenience store was on every news channel. Both of you watched intently as the reporter carried on.

“There have been reports of robberies in the last month by, what seems to be, the same couple. The two remain unnamed, but are armed and dangerous. Yesterday around 3pm, there were shots exchanged by the owner of a G25 near the edge of the city. The owner, Ms. Kim Heejung is in critical condition, and it is hard to tell whether or not she will survive the two bullet wounds. If you have any information about the suspects, we urge you to call 119. Thank you, and we will keep you updated as the story develops.”

Taehyung’s rumbling laughter took you by surprise, your brows knitting together as you moved to look at him. Before you could even question him, he shook his head and put one hand up in surrender.

“I’m not laughing at the fact that that woman has been hospitalized, it’s just funny to me that it took them this long to even broadcast our robberies. At this rate, they’ll never catch us.”

“Shut up, or you’ll jinx us.”

A sly smirk graced his features and you shook your head, moving to get up from the bed. But of course, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your waist and anchored you in place. Giggles bubbled from your lips, your eyes rolling heavenward as soft lips left sporadic kisses against your face. Your attempts to push him way proved futile, but the laughter that bubbled between the two of you as you now lay face to face was enough to make butterflies erupt in your stomach. His breath fanned over your face, stray hairs of your own tickling against your skin.

Over the year, Taehyung had grown accustomed to being alone. Sleeping with someone was purely physical for him and he absolutely refused to let anyone spend the night with him afterwards. Feelings were just something that would inevitably leave him in shambles and he couldn’t quite bring himself to do such a lousy thing to himself again. So what was so different about you? Why is he letting you in so close? The laughter died down as these thoughts swirled his cluttered mind, hand resting in its place against your chin; thumb ghosting its pad against your cheek.

“You know, I can see the sadness in your eyes when you think like that.” You whispered, keeping your gaze on his lips as he put his full attention on you. “Whatever it is that makes the cogs in your brain work so furiously like that, that make your eyes seem so lost, I hope you’ll tell me one day.” Where the boldness came from that encouraged you to say this was beyond you. But before the cops catch you both, you opt for getting to know the man who has your heart in his giant, warm palms. All of your life was filled with horrible examples of marriage and family, money and drugs tearing everything at the seems. There was just something about him that made you want to pretend, just for a moment, that love exists and the world isn’t completely overrun by money hungry, sex driven, unintelligent beings with enough empathy to spare for a cockroach.

His touch retracted for a moment, mind stalling at how you were able to read him so well. It didn’t make sense how you were able to see that he was so caught up in his own mind when he had grown so talented at masking everything. The way he pulled away, even if it was for a second, you could feel any courage that grew on those words at the back of your throat had been squandered and replaced with a nauseating feeling of overstepping. And with that, you pressed a kiss to his forehead before standing.

“I’m going to make sure the blood trail we left is gone, yeah? Just...ring me if you need me, babe.” The tone of your voice faltered slightly, eyes glossed over before exiting the room. How could you have been so bold like that? To assume you know anything about the mystery that is Kim Taehyung?

Your bottom lip was taken between your teeth, hands finding comfort around the glass of wine you had left atop the piano. The keys seemed to beg to be touched, but you couldn’t be bothered to remember the sickeningly bittersweet lies that tangled with the melodies you’d practiced until your fingers hurt. Maybe you were in fact defective like your uncle had said all those years ago, incapable of anything but destruction and caressing those ivory keys you begged so fervently to save you.

-

a/n: AHHHH! an update, fiNALLY! again, i am so so so sorry this took so long to post but i had a lot going on. its also past midnight and ive been up for nearly 30 hours so i apologize for any mistakes that were left in, im posting this without editing it three times like i usually do (pls go easy on me). i hope you guys enjoy this series as much as i do, and feedback is always appreciated! x

[iris-writes-things]

Crazy, Millennial Love Story chapter 7

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut!

Keith knows what’s up when Shiro insists he should go to this ‘networking’ party at Allura’s place. He’s not dumb. But, on the other hand, making friends might not be such a bad idea at all. So with home made business cards in his pockets, and faux confidence on his face, he decides to tag along.

Chapter 7 of ? Ongoing 2202 words Modern/romance

“So, did Allura say anything about the people that’d be here?” Keith asked, nervously clutching his home made business cards in the pocket of his sweater. They stood in an elevator currently going up to Allura’s apartment, and he was getting second thoughts.

“She didn’t name any names…” Shiro mumbled as he thought for a second. “But I’m sure that if they’re Allura’s friends, they’re probably nice.” He said as he patted Keith’s back when the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened, practically pushing the boy out, up to the front door of Allura’s apartment.

“Okay, but this better be good.” Keith grumbled crankily as he rang the doorbell with a shaking finger.

“Keith, Shiro! You made it!” Allura beamed as she opened the door.

“Of course we did.” Shiro smiled.

Keith glared up at the other man, only now becoming aware of his ulterior motive. God damn it, he couldn’t believe he fell for Shiro’s ploy.

“Come on in, I think Hunk just started passing out his snacks.”

“Sounds like perfect timing to me.” Keith joked as he sneaked past Allura. He looked back as he walked through the small hallway. Whatever Shiro and Allura had going on between them should have been the most straightforward thing in the universe. Why did the two of them have to make things so much more difficult than they necessarily had to be? Better yet, why was Keith allowing himself to apparently a be pawn in a game that should be strictly between the two of them. Before he knew it, he reached the living room, where he walked right into something, or rather, someone huge. “Oof--”

“Hey man, are you okay?” A voice asked as Keith was carefully hoisted back up to his feet.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Keith mumbled, looking up at the other man. He had dark skin and even darker hair, held back with a yellow bandana. And he was big. A full head taller than Keith and twice his width, and even though there was a healthy amount of fat on his body, Keith felt that he had next to no difficulty picking him up.

“Good.” He smiled, carefully placing a tray of beautifully crafted snacks on the salon table.

“Uh, sorry I almost ruined your food...” Keith said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Don’t worry about it, man. They’re all A-OK.” The man said, shooting Keith a reassuring smile. “What’s your name?”

“I’m, er, I’m Keith.”

“I’m Hunk. Nice meeting you.” He said enthusiastically. “That guy over there is Lance, and the kid is Pidge.”

Keith nodded and nervously waved at the others, who greeted him in return.

“And of course you already know Allura.” Hunk smiled as she and Shiro approached from the hallway.

“Yes, he does. Sorry we got a little distracted.” Allura chuckled, twirling her hair with her fingers.

“Yeah, of course you got ‘distracted’.” Keith said, giving her and Shiro a knowing smirk. “But seriously, don’t be. I can take care of myself.”

“As you beautifully demonstrated by walking straight into Hunk.” Pidge, the smallest of the group joked.

Keith smiled. Yeah. He could see himself making friends here.

***

“Okay, don’t say anything.” Lance said, taking a sip from his drink as Keith sat down next to him. “You’re in art school, aren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah… I was.” He mumbled. “How’d you guess?”

“You just seemed like the type. You don’t look old enough to have graduated already, though. What happened? Skipped a few years?”

“I haven’t. I dropped out.” Keith answered simply. “I had to skip class every other so I could work to afford my tuition. I realized that was pretty fucked up, so I just quit.” Keith knew Lance hadn’t asked to hear his tragic backstory, and God knew this wasn’t even half of it, but he supposed talking about it helped.

“Oh man… I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s not like it’s your fault.” He smiled. “So, what do you do? You don’t even look old enough to be in college.” He asked as he took a swig from the beer Allura had given him very reluctantly after their adventure the weekend previous.

“My major is international tourism.” Lance said proudly. “I travel around a lot, so I get to go sightseeing, like, all the time. Though it’s much more fun to go looking for the hidden gems, like restaurants and just really pretty spots nobody would think to visit.”

“Really? That’s pretty cool. Maybe you can tell me where to go when I’ve finally got enough cash to to on an actual vacation.” Keith said, smiling more genuinely this time. Lance’s enthusiasm was infectious, and rubbed off on him quickly.

“By the way, do you do, like, wedding photography?” Lance asked out of seemingly nowhere. “I mean, Allura showed off the pictures you took of her and her new model, under embargo, of course, and just… I don’t know, they looked really romantic. Could you do something like that again?”

“Actually, I haven’t done weddings before, but I’m willing to try if you’re offering.” Keith said enthusiastically.

“Ah, you’re my hero! The photographer my sister hired bailed on us at the last minute.” Lance sighed in relief. “Are you free next Saturday?”

Keith pretended to think for a while. Between drinking and possibly getting high if he was lucky enough to get the boyscout out of the apartment somehow, Keith’s saturdays were usually devoid of plans. “Yeah, I’m free.” He nodded, handing Lance one of his wonkily cut business cards. “You can just text me the place and time, and I’ll make sure I’m there.”

“What about pay? How much do you charge?”

He’d had a week to prepare for this, and of all things, he had completely forgotten to so much as think about his prices. “Uh… You mentioned your sister already had a photographer, right?” He tried. Lance nodded. “She can just pay me what she was going to pay the other guy.” Keith said before deciding to finish off his beer, mentally giving himself a pat on the back for that save.

“Great! Then I’ll tell her she won’t have to go over her 3K budget.”

Keith choked on his beer.

***

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

Shiro and Katie stood in the kitchen in a Mexican standoff. Shiro still frequently called and texted with Matt and yet, he had no idea his little sister was close friends with the girl of his recent dreams.

Katie, on the other hand, was well aware that Shiro had taken up modeling. After all, she was the one who had sent Matt the article Buzzfeed had written behind Shiro’s back. However, she hadn’t signed up for watching him and Allura being sickeningly sweet in the doorway earlier.

“You first.” Katie insisted.

“I’m here to chaperone Keith. Allura took us out for dinner last weekend, and Keith had way too much to drink.”

“That’s not all, is it?” She prodded, crossing her arms and cocking her hip.

“Well, it’s Allura… I mean, any excuse to spend more time with her is a good one.” Shiro replied simply, rubbing the back of his neck. “Your turn.”

“Allura is a friend of mine. She commented on one of my #CHOOTD once and we just kind of hit it off.” The teen shrugged.

“Hashtag CH… O… What?”

“Cryptid hunting outfit of the day.” She explained.

“Oh, yeah. Matt mentioned you liked stuff like that.” Shiro smiled. “Found any Bigfoots lately? Or… Bigfeet?”

Katie buried her face in her hands, muffling a frustrated scream. “I swear, you’re worse at this than my dad.”

“How come everyone calls you Pidge here?” The older man asked, all joking aside.

“My dad told me never to blog under my own name, because ‘stranger danger’,” she said, making big airquotes “so I used the nickname Matt made up for me as a pen name.” She then gazed away slightly as she mumbled, “I don’t know. I guess I like it more than ‘Katie’...”

Shiro had never made it to being a detective, but he knew full well when he wasn’t told the full truth. However, he also knew when not to keep prying, and Katie still looked uncertain about the situation.

“Well… Would you like me to call you Pidge from now on? No questions asked.”

Katie, no, Pidge smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Shiro.” She said with an excitement he hadn’t heard from her that entire night. “By the way, my mom said Matt and I could invite someone over for Thanksgiving leftovers next Saturday, so consider this your official invitation.”

“Wait, what? Why me?” He asked, brows knitted.

“Because you haven’t visited us for ages…” Pidge mumbled, her voice taking on a much more desperate tone. “You used to come over to our place all the time, but I’ve barely seen you since the accident. I know you still call and text Matt all the time, but it’s just not the same without you around. Honestly, we miss you…”

“Well…” Shiro tried, “can Keith come, too? I wouldn’t wanna leave him home alone while I help you guys finish up your mom’s delicious leftovers.” As much as he hated to admit it, the younger man had become somewhat of a security blanket to him. It wasn’t healthy, he knew, but there still were things he wasn’t ready to face on his own. Visiting the Holts being one of them. ‘The accident’, which he caused, he reminded himself, had cost their son his promising career as a city police detective. And while Shiro knew that neither Sam nor Colleen had it in them to actually do something to him, he still felt like he couldn’t look them in the eye for taking Matt’s dreams away from him.

“Yeah, of course.” The little girl smiled brightly from the accomplishment.

Their heads whipped around when Allura entered the room. “Pidge, your brother is here to pick you up.”

Pidge groaned, but started on her way outside anyway. She turned around in the doorway with a devilish smirk. “And Shiro, keep it PG while I’m gone.” She let out a hearty laugh as she watched the two flush immediately, leaving the other five behind in Allura’s apartment.

***

It was well past midnight when Shiro and Keith left Allura’s place, and with the Thanksgiving weekend quickly approaching, the city grew darker and colder by the day. They watched their breaths turn into foggy clouds as they walked the dimly lit streets back to their apartment. Shiro ducked further down into his warm coat until his thickly knit infinity scarf, courtesy of Allura, covered his ears, all while Keith seemed to be doing just fine in a hoodie and a leather jacket. That boy was just always on fire.

“Was that Matt’s younger sister? She changed a lot since we last saw her, didn’t she?” Keith asked, effectively snapping Shiro out of his daze.

“Yeah, she did. But she’s still Katie-- I mean, Pidge. She said she wants to be called Pidge.” He replied, still making a valiant attempt at regaining his composure.

“I guess she changed in more than one way then.” Keith mused. “Hey, I got a thing next Saturday, wanna join?”

“I was actually about to tell you the same thing.” Shiro said, feeling his heart growing heavy. If Keith wasn’t there, who would ground him if things went south with the Holts? “But you first. What’s your thing?”

“You remember Lance? The guy with the brown hair?” Keith asked.

Shiro nodded

“His sister is paying me three grant to take pictures at her wedding.”

Shiro couldn’t help but smile proudly at his younger roommate. “Hey, congrats on the job. I’m sure you can focus better on your photography without me around to bother you all the time.”

“Trust me, if you were a bother to me, we wouldn’t be living in the same apartment anymore.” Keith smiled, elbowing him in the side. “But tell me, what’s your thing?”

“Pidge invited me to their place to eat their Thanksgiving leftovers with them. But… I’m not sure I should go.” ‘Not without you.’ He added mentally, glancing down as he avoided eye contact with Keith.

The younger man was having none of it, though. He grabbed Shiro’s face on both sides, forcing him to look him in the eye. “Shiro, go. You’ve been avoiding them for years, even though they have no hard feelings against you. I can’t always be there with you if something happens, but you know the Holts and the Holts know you. This may be the ideal situation to help you try and take back a part of your life your PTSD has taken away from you. Trust me. Just go to their place, and you’ll see nothing has changed.”

“Promise?” Shiro asked, the tone in his voice and the look in his face only adding to the childlike nature of his question.

“Promise.” Keith smiled, patting the other’s cheek softly. “Tell you what. You bring home a slice of turkey for me, and I’ll try to weasel a slice of wedding cake home for you. Deal?”

“Deal.”

[thatgirlonstage]

Jackdaw

Some fic for Barry J. Bluejeans because I don’t see enough of my soft chubby boy in the fandom. Although this is... a bit weird, both in style and in content. We know almost nothing about this boy’s backstory so I... went exploring. In a style I don’t think I’ve ever used before. So with that disclaimer, please enjoy.

Content Warning for implied sexual content

Spoilers for the Balance arc (although frankly it probably wouldn’t spoil you so much as you’d just have no idea what’s happening lol)

This is how the story goes: your name is Sildar Hallwinter. You’re five years old and technically head of one of the last remaining noble estates in the country, following your father’s death. You’ve already forgotten his face. In a couple more years, he’ll be nothing but the story of a stranger you never knew. Your grandmother is running the estate until you’re old enough to do it.

You like to watch the birds in the garden on a cool summer morning. You’ve learned how to sit very, very still so you don’t scare them away. You watch them pecking at the berries in the bushes and gulping them down. One morning, you pick a bunch of berries and spread them out on the ground in front of you. The birds hop and waddle their way over until they’re eating the berries withing arms’ reach, casting you the occasional inquisitive look. As the days go by, they get closer and closer, until you’ve taught them to eat out of your hand.

— — —

This is how the story goes: you wake up gasping, naked and submerged in some kind of tank, choking on something that fills your mouth, your eyes, ears, and nose. The pod splits open and spills you onto the floor and you gasp for air, coughing and spitting. There’s green, brackish fluid everywhere, it’s sticky and disgusting, and you’re bewildered and afraid. You’re in some kind of cave, but you don’t know how you got here, you don’t even know where “here” is. Those are your clothes slung over a trunk in the corner of the room, but on the chair next to them is an unfamiliar red robe with a patch that you can’t quite focus on. You stumble to your feet and reach for your shirt and jeans, trying to piece together where you are and why. For some reason, though, all of your memories are distant and hazy, like they happened a long, long time ago.

— — —

You’re six years old and your mother is enrolling you in a regular school over your grandmother’s protests. On the first day of class you stand up to introduce yourself, but even at six years old you know the Hallwinters aren’t popular. Your mother has explained that you belong to something old, a way of doing things most people don’t think works anymore. And you know that no one else in your class has a name like “Sildar.” You think of birds eating berries out of your hands, their soft, feathery heads butting against your fat fingers. “My name is Barry,” you say. “I like birds.”

Eventually, your classmate Sal finds out the truth, but by then you’re already friends and he decides it doesn’t matter. He does, however, joke that you need a fancier name than “Barry” if you’re one of those rich folk from up the hill. He christens you “Barold” and you laugh and decide you sort of like it. You go home that night and tell your mother that your name is Barold now, but you like to be called Barry. She smiles and says, “Okay, Barry.” Your grandmother is the only one who calls you Sildar anymore. She calls you that until the day she dies.

— — —

There’s a coin sitting on the table, on top of a pile of maps and notes, some of which seem strangely blurry, as if you can’t quite read them. You pick up the coin and it begins to speak; it has your voice. You throw it across the room, swearing. You stomp on it, smash it against the floor, trying to break it, because you’ve heard of cursed objects and however this thing got your voice inside of it, you’re sure it’s not good. But the coin stands up to your attack, not even a dent in the side, until you finally stop and listen to what it’s saying.

“…lot to take in, and as tempting as it is, you can’t try to remember. It won’t work and it will only confuse you. Trust me, though— if you can find—” the voice dissolved in static for a brief moment “—then she’ll help you. And I know she’s alright. Nothing could take her down. Believe me, believe yourself, Barry. You’ll find her, and she’ll help you get your memories back and set everything back to rights.”

You sit down and just try to breathe, rubbing the last of the green fluid off on your pants. You’re not afraid, but a weight sits heavy in your chest, constricting your throat. You have lost something, you just don’t know what. You feel blurry at the edges, like an incomplete drawing.

The coin claims it can help you. You clench your fist around it. Alone, in a cave you don’t recognize, with maps you don’t understand, you don’t feel like you have a lot of options other than trusting it.

— — —

The Hallwinter Estate officially goes bankrupt when you’re eight. You don’t understand all the financial niceties at the time, but you know it’s not exactly a surprise. You have to leave the grand halls and massive fireplaces of your house behind. You no longer have a garden with berry bushes where the birds come to eat in the mornings. Your grandmother can’t seem to accept it. For a little less than a year, you’re living in another house, closer to town but still outside of it. Your grandmother and your mother argue a lot when they think you’re asleep. Your grandmother seems to grow thinner and more tired every day.

She dies when you’ve just turned nine. You dress up in your last fine suit and attend a funeral populated by the rich and noble, wrapped in furs and silk, under stained glass windows that turn the entire room into a sea of fractured color. The cleric mentions that she is “survived by her daughter-in-law and her grandson, Sildar Hallwinter.” It’s the last time you ever hear that name.

Your mother takes you home, and the first thing she does is give notice for the lease on the house. You’ll be moving to an apartment in town, she says, somewhere she can actually afford to pay the rent. Then she asks you to go change into everyday clothes. She takes your suit and the dress she wore to the nearest tailor and she sells them, along with all your grandmother’s remaining finery and the last box of jewelry. The only thing she keeps is the wedding band wrapped around her finger.

She comes home and sits you down and tells you that it might be easier if the two of you change your last name. “Hallwinter” evokes nothing but bad blood around here. She doesn’t want to return to using her maiden name, and she thinks you might like to pick one out together.

You pull out a guidebook of birds your mother got you for your birthday and start combing through the pages. Your finger lands on one. Later, you won’t remember why you picked this one. You’d seen them in the garden, but they weren’t your favorites, or the most eye catching, or the most frequent. Still, you felt confident. “Jackdaw,” you say. “I want our last name to be Jackdaw.” Your mother smiles and ruffles your hair. The next day, she comes back from the courthouse with two certificates. You are now Marlena and Barold Jackdaw.

— — —

You’re climbing a rocky cliff side, and your fingers slip. You reel backward and fall away from the cliff, plunging toward the ground below. The air whistles in your ears. When you hit the ground, you hear a loud snap, and for the briefest instant, you’re looking somewhere impossible, because your neck doesn’t bend like that, and then you’re dead. Your last thought is that dying seems familiar.

— — —

Sal takes pity on you and your ripped pants, and he buys you a pair of blue denim jeans for your ninth birthday. Your grandmother, even bed bound and standing on death’s doorstep, sees you wearing them and sniffs something about peasant clothes. Just to spite her, you save up coins to buy an extra pair and start wearing them all the time. They’re more comfortable than any of the silk and wool your grandmother used to make you wear anyway. For your tenth birthday, all you ask for from your mother is another pair of jeans. Soon enough, you have so many pairs of jeans you wear almost nothing else. Sal, the only one of your friends who knows who Barold Jackdaw used to be, jokes that you should have chosen “Bluejeans” as your new last name. He stops calling you Barold and starts calling you “Bluejeans.”

— — —

You wake up naked and alone in a cave, surrounded by brackish fluid, but you don’t panic. It doesn’t seem scary, it only gives you a strange sense of déjà vu. There’s a coin sitting on the table. You pick it up and you listen. It has your voice. It knows who you are. It tells you to search. Somehow, you trust it. You start looking for the woman whose name you don’t know.

— — —

By the age of twelve, you know you want to do science for the rest of your life. Formulas – scientific, mathematic, and arcane – flow from your fingers like second nature. The only problem is picking which field. Your mother sits and listens as you pace back and forth, debating the merits of astrophysics versus the chemistry of transfiguration arcana. You’ve learned the scientific names of all the different birds who used to eat berries out of your hand, and study their migration patterns on the weekends. You like understanding how the world fits together. You want to know what makes a leaf turn yellow and die, and sprout again in spring. You want to know how the stars move across the sky. You want to know the nature of the planes the arcanists move through, and their physical relationship to the world as you know it.

As you get older, you write applications and plead for scholarships. Your mother listens patiently as you puzzle your way through homework and private studies, even if she doesn’t understand what you’re saying. She places a hand on your shoulder and reminds you it’s gotten dark outside, it’s already past second sunset, and you ought to go to bed. The work will always be there in the morning. You lean backward into a hug, sighing as your eyes slide closed and breathing in her familiar scent.

— — —

You hesitate, up to your knees in the lake, before taking a deep breath and plunging in. You don’t understand how you know how to swim. You didn’t know as a child, and you can’t remember anyone ever teaching you. But as soon as you hit the water, you’re moving, arms and legs working in unison to push you forward, your eyes closed, your hair drifting around your head.

You remember other things you shouldn’t. You know the taste of hot sauce on someone else’s lips. You can imagine, with frightening specificity, the sound of air whistling past your ears as you plummet to the ground from an impossible height. You can play the piano, even if you cannot name the notes.

The weight in your heart grows heavier for a moment whenever you have one of these impossible memories. You still feel blurry at the edges, as if you might suddenly dissolve out of existence.

— — —

When you’re thirteen you notice that you’re having trouble seeing the boards in classrooms and the birds in the trees have lost their definition. You get your vision tested and a week later thick, plastic-rimmed glasses settle on your nose. You look every inch the nerd that you are.

You lost touch with Sal when he moved away last year, but not before he got a couple of your other friends, Hugo and Izzy, to start calling you “Bluejeans” as well. From them, it spreads, to the rest of your classmates, and slowly to the entire school. It becomes so pervasive even a few teachers start doing it. You start writing your name as “Barry J. Bluejeans” on tests and papers.

With your new glasses, you spot something that’s gotten wedged down behind your desk at home. You pull it out from the wall, crawl on top of all your notes, and shove your arm down the narrow gap, just managing to catch the paper between your fingers. It’s a clumsy child’s drawing of a garden where you lived when you were someone else. You rub the paper fondly between your fingertips. On an impulse, you pull out an envelope and write down the address that Sal gave you. On the backside of the drawing, you write: Found this wedged behind my desk. Remember when I was the rich kid from up the hill? Miss you. —Barry J. Bluejeans. You get a letter back two weeks later. For your birthday that year, you get a new pair of jeans in the mail.

— — —

You’re facing down a reaper who calls himself Kravitz. Your back is quite literally against the wall, and even though the coin claims you’re supposedly a proficient necromancer and arcanist, you don’t know magic. All you wanted to do was study the stars and the planes, you didn’t ask for any of this. He calls you a lich and tells you that you’ve died no less than twenty-seven times. Your palms are sweaty and you feel cold all over.

The coin has told you that there’s a contingency plan. “If something goes wrong, I want you to know that… death is an option, and that for you, death doesn’t mean the end. I can’t explain anything else, you won’t be able to understand me, but if you die, it’s… gonna be okay, alright? In fact, if you… get captured, or get some kind of painful terminal illness, it would be better for you to go ahead and kick the bucket as fast as possible. I know that’s a hard thing to swallow, but… trust me on this, like you’ve trusted me on everything else.”

But it doesn’t seem like it will be okay. Here, with the sharp end of a scythe pressed against your throat, and the stone wall cold as ice at your back, it seems like the most terrifying thing that could ever happen. Your heart and your mind race at breakneck speed, as if trying to squeeze in as much life as possible before there’s none left.

“Barold J. Bluejeans,” Kravitz says. His face vanishes, revealing a skull with glowing red eyes. “I hereby reap your soul in the name of the Raven Queen.” He raises the scythe, and as unappealing as death sounds, eternity imprisoned in the Stockade sounds worse, so you take a chance. Before he can bring the scythe swinging down, you lift the slender, wickedly sharp blade in your hand and plunge it, with deadly precision, straight into your own heart. Your last thought is that dying seems familiar.

— — —

You’re eighteen and you’ve just been accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. You can barely afford a penny of the tuition, so you’re frantically trying to secure scholarships. Half the papers are filled in with your real legal name, Barold Jackdaw, while the other half have Barold Bluejeans written on them in a fit of habit. Your friends are having a party to celebrate the end of the semester and your mother practically drags you away from your papers, shoving you out the door, insisting you go have fun. Your glasses fog over in the cold and you shove your hands in your pockets, shivering.

At the party you drink of glass of something that tastes warm and fruity and makes your head buzz pleasantly. You find yourself sitting in the corner talking to Izzy, sinking into the couch cushions. And then you find yourself outside in the back garden with Izzy, your mouths shoved clumsily together, your fingers tangling and creeping downward. Your glasses are fogged over again. You pull them off your face and drop them into the grass. Her hands pull down the zipper on your jeans, and a rush of cold air is immediately followed by exploratory fingers. You press closer to her, pushing her back into the wall, and she gasps in your ear. Your fingers slide across her collarbone and tug her shirt down over her shoulder. Her mouth is on your throat, and her thick hair is everywhere.

By the time you manage to retrieve your glasses, you’re shivering and burning all at once. It’s not the first time it’s happened, but it’s close to the last.

— — —

You’re at a tavern, because it’s been weeks since you just talked to someone. You spend ages chasing cryptic clues and you’ve forgotten what it’s like to just be. You’d talk about anything, even the flipping weather, if it could just be a normal conversation. You don’t know if you remember how to have one of those anymore. You don’t know when the last time you had one of those was.

Your memories exist in layers of déjà vu, now, bits and pieces that leak through from one cycle to the next. You keep dying and reviving, you’ve figured that much out without the coin saying it explicitly, so it hasn’t been lost to static. But none of those memories will come into focus. The ones you have are too confused to think about clearly. You see them as if they were in an aquarium: distorted by the water and hidden by smudged glass. Your only clear memories come from before — but even those are fuzzy with time and distance. They seem so very long ago.

A man sits beside you at the bar, and you turn to him, struggling for words. “Nice night out,” you finally manage. He only grunts in reply. “I really like the beer here,” you try again.

“Only place in walking distance makes it good enough for me,” the man says, not bothering to look at him. You swallow. Small talk was never your strong suit, even in the best of circumstances.

— — —

Sal comes to your graduation when you’re twenty-one, and he manages to get there and hug you before even your mother. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, Bluejeans,” he tells you. He has calluses on his fingers now. He’s an apprentice in a metal-working shop. The crinkle in his nose he gets when he smiles is the same though. “Hey, I got you something.” He places a wrapped box in your hand. When you tear it open, you find a tiny metal figurine of a jackdaw. Sal rolls his eyes. “To make up for always coming up with different names for you,” he says. You place it in the entryway of your new apartment, where no one can miss it.

— — —

You’re sitting outside, perched on a rock, watching the birds wheeling overhead. You feel like you know the sensation of flight, but it’s hardly a memory. It tickles at the edge of your consciousness, probably nothing more than a vivid imagination. It’s Midsummer, and you can’t stop scanning the sky. Whatever you’re looking for isn’t there, but the weight on your heart sits uneasy all the same.

— — —

This is how the story goes: you’re twenty-five, hugging your mother goodbye. She kisses you on the forehead, her grey hair a soft cloud around her, and wishes you well. You have a suitcase in your hand, containing only the bare essentials for a couple weeks away. She tells you to get moving, and you promise you’ll be home soon. And that’s the last thing you can remember.

— — —

This how the story goes: you drink from a flask, and you wake up gasping. Lup’s face comes back first. Taako and Merle are beside you, and you know them now, really know them, and they’re reeling, but you need to take a moment to collect your own thoughts and memories before you can help them. One hundred and ten years crash over your brain at once, and everything else seems distant and too far lost to consider. It’s a story about a stranger you never knew.

[evansandblack]

If You’re Interested

A lengthy post explaining why I went away

The last time I posted a new imagine, oneshot, or chapter was well over one year ago. I knew it had been a while but I didn’t realize how long until just recently. And I would like to explain why. I’m not sure how many of you are going to read this but I feel like writing out my reasoning will be the first step for me to actually begin posting again. This is in no way an excuse, just a little bit of backstory.

2016 was a weird year for me. The previous year, I’d done quite a bit of writing. Some of it made it online, most of it did not. I felt like the quality was lacking, even some of the stuff that I did post wasn’t up to my usual standards. I know I’m not a fantastic writer, but I’m alright. But I really felt like some of the stuff I was putting out was just really shitty. Then 2016 rolled around and I was doing my best to keep writing and I wanted to put things out so badly.

Around February (I think) I started to feel like I was in a slump. It took several months to realize that it was a depressive episode. Then in late May, I started working at an alzheimers/dementia care facility. I was technically only working part-time but I picked up so many extra shifts that I was basically working full-time. I usually worked from 3pm-11pm five days a week, although I often worked at least one 16-hour shift a week. On top of that, I spent June tutoring summer school kids at the high school. When summer school ended, I started babysitting again and did that for the rest of the summer. Between being a CNA, tutor, and babysitter, I worked an average of 80 hours a week. I tried to write when I had free time but I was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that I just couldn’t.

Then school started up again in September. I was doing 18 credit hours a week trying to prepare for the RN program and still working. I went to school MWF and then worked every single day I had off. When I started working, my boss guaranteed every other weekend off because that was their policy. But I ended up being scheduled for eight weekends in a row. So for two months I did not have a single day off. I couldn’t write them either. About halfway through the semester, I had to quit my job because I didn’t have enough time for homework and studying and my grades were slipping. After quitting work, I went straight into another depressive episode.

I don’t remember much of the end of the fall semester or anything from my spring semester either. On May 17th I was taken to the emergency room by my mother because I was incapable of keeping any food down, I could not walk, I was in a sort of brain fog, and I was hyperventilating. The doctor diagnosed me with diabetic ketoacidosis (basically my blood turned acidic and my organs were starting to shut down). I didn’t even know that I was Type 1 diabetic so I was not on insulin. I was transferred to a larger hospital where I spent several days in the ICU then was transferred to a normal room where I spent three more days.

When I finally got to come home, I ended up in yet another depressive episode and my anxiety was at an all-time high. I was constantly worried about my blood sugar getting too high or too low, about making sure I took enough insulin, what I could eat, what I couldn’t eat, making sure I was getting enough exercise, etc. For several months, I did not know what the fuck I was doing. Eventually, I started to get used to it. I mean, this is still bothering me in a way but not it’s more of an annoyance than anything else. I have to check my blood sugar 4+ times a day, take insulin 4 times a day, count carbs for every single thing I eat or drink. I can’t eat a majority of things I used to, at least not without modifying the ingredients. I complain about it a lot because it really just kind of sucks.

But, something happened about a month and a half ago. I’m not really sure what it was but I started feeling different. I haven’t a depressive episode since then, my anxiety isn’t as high as it was, and I feel more like myself than I have since I was 16. I’ve been writing for myself for several months and I’m so incredibly happy with some of the stuff I’ve written.

With that being said, I do want to continue taking requests (especially for Teen Wolf because that show inspires me in so many ways, like, holy shit.) However, I’m going to continue writing things for myself and I hope to have the confidence and support to post some of those things here.

I will make a separate post announcing that requests are open and explaining what I’ll be writing for and things like that since I know a majority of my followers probably won’t read this. But I guess the entire point of this post is that I want to say that I was away for a long time and I never really gave a reason as to why, and I’m sorry for that. But I had to take care of myself for a while, something I’d neglected for quite some time.

But I’m okay.

And I’m back now.

(Also, if you read this whole thing, maybe send me a message/ask, say hello, let me know which one of my imagines you like the most, something. I’m a human that craves validation and I love hearing from you guys. Y’all are the best, I swear.)

 tldr: I was busy a lot then I almost died so I couldn’t write but then I was enlightened and I’m good now.