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dufferpuffer · 8 months ago

Note

Yeah its long lol, I was using your post for my own essay basically. I love discussing this stuff - so thanks for replying :)

You're right in that I don't think the Death Eaters were trying to take out Harry for years before Voldemorts return. They gave up. Imagine tho: Home Alone but its Harry's subconscious magic But the days/weeks before everyone was caught... well, we know things weren't too quiet. The night it all happened was crazy, and then not long after the Longbottom's were devastated. Harry was well known by the next morning. The boy who lived? The cause of their Lords disappearance? Worth kidnapping, if not killing. Baby Harry was ushered into the Dursley's quickly - and I have my own theory on what the plan was for that.

Voldemort wouldn't have even known there was a ward preventing him from getting at Harry unless someone tried. Dumbledore might have said publicly 'Harry Potter is protected by me, totally B^) Very safe' - but I doubt Tom would fall for that. Its just a muggle house...! Easy pickings! He could blow the whole street up to spook them out of hiding, if he could find it. There were thousands of muggle casualties in the war. Giants were the greatest cause of muggle casualties, he turned them into an undead army... He has no qualms with indiscriminate muggle attacks.

I don't think Harry's location was ever told publicly... but I feel like there must be spells to find other magical people, right? Perhaps they are advanced spells, or inaccurate, but why put up so many charms to protect yourself from being found in the middle of nowhere, camping - if there wasn't a way to pick you out...? Harry in the middle of Privet Drive sticks out like a sore thumb.

We know Owls have their own magic to find people, because even Petunia could send an Owl. They are independent, magically discreet and accurate in a way nothing else is. Harry could send mail to Sirius Black even when he was on the run. They don't seem to need a location - just a name.

Dementors could only find the area after Harry made a connection with Voldemort (though tbf to they didn't have a reason to try before) - I think its because his connection with Harry was enough to override the ward outside 4 Privet Dr. That's why Sirius said 'don't leave'. Everything was up-in-the-air, there might be more dementors or even Death Eaters running about, they didn't know for sure - but at the very least: he was confident Harry was safe inside the house.

I think the ward less protects Petunia's bloodline - and more her place of residence. It included all she considered to be 'living there'. An old spell from a time of warring clans, perhaps...? That doesn't explain why Dudley could be 'attacked' by the twins via toffee, though. I can't remember when that took place. Was it in the house? Had the twins been invited into the house? Was it outside? That's my own ignorance. Perhaps once you are 'inside the ward' (aka made physical contact or have been allowed into the house) you can do what you want...? Seems a bit silly tbh, if a Death Eater could just pretend to be plumber…

The thing that most makes me believe that there IS a ward is that everyone acts like there is. Sirius, Moody and the rest of the Order… They aren't the most convincing, as they are all under Dumbledore ultimately - but even Dumbledore is more than happy for Harry to spend large chunks, if not the majority of his summer holidays in the Wizarding World - As long as he goes to the Dursleys for a bit. He isn't trying to isolate him socially. He isn't holding him there. He just insists he goes there during the summer for a couple of weeks, Preferably as soon as school is out, when he would be most expected to be back there (and when disasters have just happened lol)

Most convincing, though, is Voldemort. Voldemort has no reason to leave the Dursleys alive other than not being bothered to kill them. But he does have reasons to bother: + They are connected directly to Harry, the Ministry, and the Order. If he wants to make a distraction, cause confusion, cause chaos - they are a sweet target. He might not even know that Harry hates them. Even if he did - Harry still doesn't want them dead. It would be personally upsetting to him. + With the right timing (which is obvious: Summer Holidays) Harry is guaranteed to be there, basically alone. In DH he was there for two whole weeks when Voldemort while salivating for his 17th birthday. We see Death Eaters breaking wards by brute force to attack Harry etc. But never Privet Dr, which should be the most vulnerable. + Just killing them to send a message: This is what happens when you shelter Harry Potter. Even your Muggle families aren't safe. This is what was basically expected after Harry's 17th, so the Dursleys were moved. Yet apart from Harry's 17th, the only time he seeks him out near there is via Dementors - who could only find him outside of the house. Even though Voldemort has a tracker implanted inside Harry's head.

He can't penetrate the Burrow or Hogwarts without an army… and he can't penetrate 4 Privet Dr. until Harry is 17. That suggests 'Weirdo Ward' to me, and for more than just The 'Mort.

How does the protection magic that Lily's sacrifice placed on Harry work? On that note- how do the blood wards placed on the Dursley household operate?

Like- does the latter act as a notice me not/ fidelius of its own? Protecting Harry's location from other magicals? (It would have been easy for another Longbottom tragedy to occur after all) from what I remember the blood wards have no affect on the protection cast by Lily's sacrifice, and instead sort of extend the effect to the household???

Also on the topic of the protection- we saw the end Quirrel met. And... I just wondered- why didn't this sort of reaction extend to all the people - the Dursleys included- who laid their hands + spells on Harry with the intent to harm? By all means the blood wards should have fallen the moment The Dursleys tried to physically harm Harry. Can't see a protection powered by Lily's intent, extending to people who mean her son harm.

Unless of course the magic and the wards are targetted at Riddle specifically. Which brings the question- why didn't it set on fire/ harm anything considering even the traces of Riddle's presence/ influence. Eg. The people with the death Eater brands, the horcruxes, the soul shard inside Harry himself??

Ugh. Just so many questions.

Ps. Could the blood wards have been transferred/ worked in a residence comprising of the people Harry considered as his family and who reciprocated this sentiment? (based on the importance of intent to keep the spell going)

Wow, @ana-lyz, just like with the veil and death asks, I just started drafting a post about Lily's blood protections and what Dumbledore says about them. So...

Lily's Love Protection and Dumbledore's Blood Wards

Alright, strap in...

Okay, so let's start by seeing what we're told about the blood protections and whether we can gather something cohesive that makes magical sense out of it.

We have Voldemort's statement on this piece of magic:

“...I wanted Harry Potter’s blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago . . . for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins too. . . . “But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy’s future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy’s protection as long as he is in his relations’ care. Not even I can touch him there. . . .

(GoF, 657)

Notice there is the lingering protection from Lily's magic and the ancient magic Dumbledore invoked. These are, I believe separate spells.

Dumbledore's statements:

“But why couldn’t Quirrell touch me?” “Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign…to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good.”

(PS, 215)

“But I knew too where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated — to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother’s blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative.” “She doesn’t love me,” said Harry at once. “She doesn’t give a damn —” “But she took you,” Dumbledore cut across him. “She may have taken you grudgingly, furiously, unwillingly, bitterly, yet still she took you, and in doing so, she sealed the charm I placed upon you. Your mother’s sacrifice made the bond of blood the strongest shield I could give you.” “I still don’t —” “While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort. He shed her blood, but it lives on in you and her sister. Her blood became your refuge. You need return there only once a year, but as long as you can still call it home, there he cannot hurt you. Your aunt knows this. I explained what I had done in the letter I left, with you, on her doorstep. She knows that allowing you houseroom may well have kept you alive for the past fifteen years.”

(OotP, 835-836)

Here again, Dumbledore mentions the ancient magic he made the decision to protect Harry with as a separate thing from the lingering protection from Lily.

And (as per this post) the Dumbledore Harry hallucinates statement:

“He took my blood.” said Harry. “Precisely!” said Dumbledore. “He took your blood and rebuilt his living body with it! Your blood in his veins, Harry, Lily’s protection inside both of you! He tethered you to life while he lives!”

(DH, 598)

And then we have what happened to Quirrell:

Quirrell raised his hand to perform a deadly curse, but Harry, by instinct, reached up and grabbed Quirrell’s face — “AAAARGH!” Quirrell rolled off him, his face blistering, too, and then Harry knew: Quirrell couldn’t touch his bare skin, not without suffering terrible pain — his only chance was to keep hold of Quirrell, keep him in enough pain to stop him from doing a curse. Harry jumped to his feet, caught Quirrell by the arm, and hung on as tight as he could. Quirrell screamed and tried to throw Harry off — the pain in Harry’s head was building — he couldn’t see — he could only hear Quirrell’s terrible shrieks and Voldemort’s yells of, “KILL HIM! KILL HIM!”

(PS, 212)

What we know from this

Well, from the above quotes we can divide the magical protections on Harry into 2 different spells as I mentioned above:

Lily's sacrificial love protection - the intention magic Lily cast by protecting her son. This is the magic that blocked the Killing Curse and killed Quirrell.

Dumbledore's blood ward - this is the spell Dumbledore cast that (supposedly) protects Harry in his relatives' home. Voldemort says Dumbledore invoked this magic, and Dumbledore also mentions it's a ward he left that built upon Lily's protection, but it's not a spell Lily left.

So, what can Lil'y Sacrificial Love Protection do:

Makes the Killing Curse not kill Harry.

Returns the Killing Curse back to the sender.

Continues to hurt that initial "sender" whenever he tries to kill Harry.

What about Dumbledore's Blood Wards what do they do:

Nothing.

Dumbledore and Voldemort say this magic exists but it never does anything. We never see it active, it never protects Harry from anyone, neither his relatives nor Death Eaters. So, we don't know what it's supposed to be doing since it doesn't do anything in the books.

Voldemort says it won't allow him to touch Harry in his relatives' house.

How I think these spells actually work

I'll start with Dumbledore's Blood Wards:

I simply don't think this ward actually exists.

Dumbledore isn't very consistent with how this protection works. He says Harry needs to return for a bit to live with Petunia for the magic to work, but if that's all the requirement, why long weeks? Couldn't he return for a shorter time? And each year he spends a different amount of time at Private Drive? Couldn't he always be sent back just for the minimal required time? At first, the ward was about love but then it isn't, he says this: "While you can still call home the place where your mother’s blood dwells, there you cannot be touched or harmed by Voldemort."

Harry didn't think of Private Drive as a home:

Harry could hardly believe it when he realized that he’d already been at Hogwarts two months. The castle felt more like home than Privet Drive ever had.

(PS, 123)

“I believe he had several reasons, though he confided none of them to Professor Dippet,” said Dumbledore. “Firstly, and very importantly, Voldemort was, I believe, more attached to this school than he has ever been to a person. Hogwarts was where he had been happiest; the first and only place he had felt at home.” Harry felt slightly uncomfortable at these words, for this was exactly how he felt about Hogwarts too.

(HBP, 431)

Harry never considered Private Drive and the Dursleys his home. Hogwarts was his first home.

If there is no love and it isn't a home, even if Dumbledore did cast a blood ward based on Petunia and Lily's sacrifice it won't actually be active. But personally, I don't think this ward actually exists.

Dumbledore needs a reason to keep Harry with his relatives.

Dumbledore needs Harry malleable, low on self-esteem, and lacking in a support network. Because he knew since October 1981 (but probably before) that he'd likely need Harry to die. He suspected Harry was a Horcrux from practically day 1:

Under a tuft of jetblack hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning. “Is that where —?” whispered Professor McGonagall. “Yes,” said Dumbledore. “He’ll have that scar forever.” “Couldn’t you do something about it, Dumbledore?” “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy...

(PS, 13-14)

And being raised by the Dursleys ensured that when the time came, when Dumbledore needed Harry to die to destroy Voldemort, Harry would be willing. Because Harry would not put much worth in his own life. Because of that, I think it's not outside the realm of possibility Dumbledore would lie about this ward to have an excuse to keep sending Harry to the Dursleys.

(Sure, Dumbledore would've preferred not to kill Harry if it could be avoided, but he had been preparing for the situation since October 1981)

It's not like he did anything to better their treatment of Harry until book 6, when he needed Harry to start trusting him more...

And like I mentioned above, even if the ward was there, it would not be active because Private Drive was never a home for Harry. And after year 4, when Voldemort took his blood, any protection from any blood-related magic would be moot. Because Voldemort would not be counted as a threat by the ward.

So Dumbledore sending Harry back to the Dursleys after he knew the wards he left (if they were there at all) were gone, proves to me Harry's placement at the Dursleys was never about the wards to begin with. Because if the blood wards are gone, literally anywhere else around wizards who could protect Harry would be safer than at the Dursleys, even when thinking of Death Eaters and Voldemort as the only threat. If they came to find Harry at Private Drive, nothing would've stopped them (except Harry himself).

I could guess wards like this, if they actually were active, would have been an extension of Lily's protection and stopped Voldemrot from being able to enter the Dursleys' residence. From what's said, it seems this ward seems to target Voldemrot specifically, and no one else. But, as I mentioned, I don't think it's really there.

Lil'y Sacrificial Love Protection:

I mentioned in the past how intention and emotion mean a lot for magic in the HP universe. Lily, a witch who we are told repeatedly was powerful, intelligent, and talented, could very well cast a powerful protection out of her love and intention to protect her son. That is 100% possible with what we see magic is capable of and how magic seems to work.

That being said, the fact this never happened before suggests to me Lily did something different than just having a very strong wish for her son to survive. Dumbledore says it's because she had a choice, and in a way it is, but not because Voldemort gave her the option not to die, but because she chose to die instead of Harry.

I'll try to explain it, bear with me.

“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!” “Stand aside, you silly girl. . . stand aside now.” “Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead—” “This is my last warning—” “Not Harry! Please . . . have mercy. . . have mercy. . . . Not Harry! Not Harry! Please—I’ll do anything—” “Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!”

(DH, 297)

This is the "spell" Lily casts — the incantation. This is her wish moments before her death: "Not Harry, kill me instead," that's what she says, that's her promise, that's her wish, that's the magic.

Lily's protection only works on Voldemort because her spell essentially made a bargain with Voldemort (that he didn't agree to). that he'd kill her instead of Harry. Once he killed Lily, he couldn't kill Harry because that was the protection she left him, and Voldemort won't be able to kill him because she died in his stead.

That's why we don't see the same thing happen after James dies to buy Lily and Harry time, why when others die to protect someone they aren't protected from the killing curse. What Lily did is a combination of a few extraordinary circumstances coming together:

She's an incredibly powerful witch (shown by her childhood magic that was very controlled and advanced (not unlike Tom Riddle) and Slughorn's boasting)

She loved Harry dearly. Loved him enough to power an accidental spell.

Chose and intended to die instead of her son. She had intent when making her plea, intent required for any spell.

So what essentially happened is that Lily created a situation where Voldemort physically can't kill Harry because Lily died in his stead. If, for example, Quirrell touched Harry without intending to kill him (like he did when they shook hands in Diagon Alley or when he pulled Harry to stand in front of the mirror) the protection won't activate. All it does is stop Voldemort from killing Harry because he already killed Lily in Harry's stead.

So, Voldemort, as I mentioned in the past, wants to kill Harry, this is his only ambition in the 2nd war. So he takes Harry's blood into himself so the protection won't work anymore. And we see it doesn't in the woods when Voldemort casts the killing curse and it doesn't rebound back on him (which would've happened otherwise).

This love protection from Lily doesn't require anything to stay active. It was cast because Voldemort killed her and Harry doesn't need to do anything to keep it active. Staying with the Dursleys wasn't for the sake of Lily's spell but for Dumbledore's ward.

As for Lily's spell not protecting Hary from anything else, like I mentioned, the bargain was that Voldemort would kill her instead of Harry, it would only protect Harry from being killed by Voldemort. If Voldemort just asked a random Death Eater to kill Harry it still wouldn't have worked, but that won't be because of Lily's love magic, but because of Harry pretty much always being the Master of Death.

Basically, Voldemort was doomed because he had no chance of killing Harry. Ever.

But what about when Harry died in book 7 and said he cast the same sacrificial love?

Well, I don't think Harry cast the same sacrificial love. His feelings and intentions were completely different. In his case, I think he just took the mastership of the Elder Wand so it wasn't performing as well for Voldemort afterward.

Conclusions

There are actually two different and distinct spells referred to by the characters when it comes to the protections Lily left for Harry.

The first is Lily's Sacrificial Love Spell which worked like a bargain. She pleaded with Voldemort to kill her instead of Harry and after he killed her, he could no longer kill Harry because he was protected.

Voldemort taking Harry's blood does indeed circumvent this spell and allows him to kill Harry in the woods (if temporarily).

The second is the Blood Ward Dumbledore talks about that is supposedly placed on the Dursleys' home. This spell was invoked by Dumbledore and is not part of Lily's spell.

It's supposed to build on and strengthen Lily's protection from what's implied.

this second spell would've stopped its activity the moment Harry stopped considering number 4, Private Drive his home (which happened quite young, as he doesn't remember ever considering it a home)

Personally, I don't think this blood ward ever existed, but even if it did, it was moot from the get-go and never done anything.

Voldemort taking Harry's blood in year 4, circumvented this ward too.

Basically, Dumbledore kept Harry at the Durselys less because of the wards and more because it suited him to ensure Harry would become the martyr he needed him to be (something I should write a full post about eventually).

#hp #harry potter #hp meta #tag for old man defense #albus dumbledore

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snowsfallwindsblow · 3 years ago

Text

MAPS - DR / epilogue

Different moments you find yourself in, connecting to each other like a map that always leads to him.

Warnings: 18+, swearing, angst, smut.

(part i) (part ii) (part iii)

Daniel Ricciardo had made a habit of landing up at your door at the oddest of hours.

He was wrapped in a woollen muffler, a beige beanie and a sweater under his long coat as he stood on your porch steps. He was shuffling on his legs, his toffee tan standing out against the snowflakes that fell around him, clearly not made for the grouchy New York weather.

But you weren’t going to let him in. No way.

“Hi,” he beamed at you, accompanied by a tiny awkward wave.

A thousand questions ran through your head, so quick that you couldn't do anything except simply blink at him.

A storm similar to the one that cracked the sky roared inside of you when he raised a hand, his thumb swiping the frosting you hadn't realised was smeared at the corner of your mouth.

That was when your brain finally decided it was indeed capable of forming coherent sentences. “Yeah, I was just baking…”

His touch lingered a moment too long, stirring an ache you had tried hard to burrow deep while all this time away from him. You watched his forehead crease when he realized the same, your gaze then flitting to his tattooed hand as he flexed it and shoved it back into the warmth of his pockets.

“Vanilla,” he said.

Oh, how you had missed his voice.

“What?”

“You smell like vanilla,” he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s my favourite.”

That was what he wanted to talk about? Your temper bubbled up. You raised your brows, shaking your head in disbelief. “You flew all the way from Perth to tell me that?"

He gulped at your tone, as cold and unkind as the weather, realising you weren’t going to make it easy for him. At all.

You had half a mind to shut the door in his face. The other half was insufferably ready to rush into his arms and let go of everything, every stupid feeling you had pent up since that last race.

But then your mother's voice called out from inside the house, sparing you from doing anything drastically stupid. “Y/N, who’s it?”

Daniel tilted his head, trying to follow her voice as he looked past you. You just prayed she didn't come out to see for herself because then your Dad would follow, and it would just lead to a million nosey questions. And this big ass question mark over what the hell was Daniel doing in fucking New York was more than what you could handle for now.

“A friend from work, Mom!” You bellowed.

An amused smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he peered down at you so fondly. Standing at your doorway, slightly swinging to and fro to cede himself a little warmth only because you were too stubborn to invite him in, and he knew and was utterly fine with it, looking so domestic and lovely and ready to bare it all.

“A friend from work?” He mouthed, a cheeky glint in his eyes. It made you all queasy inside, ultimately annoying you more.

“Why are they still out?" You winced when she shouted again.

Cause he deserves it, you wanted to spite.

He cocked his head smugly, giving you that same iniquitous look you were so familiar with. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Halfway turning in the doorway, you passed him a smile as phoney as a three-dollar bill.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

You strolled alongside him, shamelessly studying the limns of his side frame. Crooked nose pink from the cold, dark stubble shadowing the slant of his jaw, a full bottom lip. Yes, that man did seem a whole lot like Daniel Ricciardo and not something straight out of your wishful thinking.

“How did you know where to find me?” You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously, and he continued to ignore your stare as he walked down the disgusting muddy pavement leading to a park nearby.

“I pestered your media head into telling me your address." He shrugged, a cloud blowing past his lips as his breath met the chilly air. “You may be getting a call soon to ask if you want a file a harassment case.”

You snorted.

Then you both quietly made your way into the park beneath the shadows of the trees and the weight of the looming conversation. Yellow lamps lit and cast your silhouettes on the grey stone pathway. You focused on the snow and leaves that crumpled under your boots, lost in thought. He had flown all this way. Why? For you? It couldn’t possibly be.

He came to a halt beside you and gestured at a bench for you to sit.

You stood firm. You had no intention to amble and sweet talk on park benches with him. “Why are you here?”

He sighed as he settled down anyway. “Isn’t it clear already?”

You watched him silently.

“You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?” He pursed his lips, searching down the path for something that wasn't there, trying to dodge the topic as best he could.

You hated the fact that you couldn't win this fight, or any fight if it meant it was him you were up against. You never even stood a chance. He could mould you at his whim. You knew. You didn’t care. You sat down next to him.

“I like you,” he breathed out. He faced you then, as nervous as a teenager confessing his first love, but relieved at the same time to finally let go of whatever had him holding back.

“I’ve liked you for years. Like is a very,” he shook his head as if he was unable to find the right words, “very small word compared to what I feel.”

He clasped your cold hands in his, bringing them to his lap, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles. “I was afraid if I truly spoke what I felt you might run away."

You tried to avert his gaze. You couldn't manage him so vulnerable, apologetic, urging you to listen. Who were you trying to fool? Sitting there, so busy trying to find fault in him when all along it had been you pushing and prying just because you couldn't face how much he meant to you. However happy, however special he made you feel, it didn't matter. Years had gone by concealing what you had really felt and you had not cared. When in truth, you had never been that strong. You still weren't. Daniel's words, however wrong and hurtful, had just been an excuse to push all the blame on him.

“You know how much I hate that?” He continued, frustration now lacing his voice. “When you don’t look me in the eyes when I talk to you? When I’m so fucking crazy over someone who acts like they can’t even stand me?”

“That’s not true,” you tried to assure him but your voice cracked.

“Well, that’s how it feels,” he said as he shuffled closer to you, your legs touching, the clouds of your breath mixing now. Tears brimmed at the waterline of your lids and his warmth called on you. Let go, it seemed to implore.

“All that time we spent together, I finally thought I got through to you." Yes, you thought, you could finally see me. "And when you let me in, I managed to colossally fuck it up."

He huffed. “I was a cunt.”

You cracked a sad little smile. “Yes, you were.”

He rested his forehead against yours, noses nuzzled. “I’m sorry I spoke to you the way I did. It was shitty and misdirected. I have no excuses."

I know, I'm sorry too.

“I can’t take those words back." He kissed a tear on your cheek, brushing your hair out of your face. "But one thing I’m sure of is that I didn’t mean it. I could never."

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering over the massive heap of feelings that had just come your way. You had waited for god knows how long to hear those words. Still, something compelled you to push them aside. Here he was, thousands of miles away just for you. And you couldn’t even meet him halfway to his heart.

He drew back to search your face. “Please say something.”

"I called you, you know." You recalled sitting at the airport far from all the celebrations and feeling extremely lonely. "After the final race. That blonde friend of yours picked up."

At that moment you had felt so small. You had just wanted to go home and sink yourself into the arms of your parents, desperate to erase the whole of the race season despite your team having won the championship and all. You had done exactly that, and now they were maybe the only people in the world who disliked Daniel Ricciardo.

"Who is this blonde you keep referring to?” He asked, breaking your train of thought, and you were taken aback to see him genuinely clueless.

"The one on the yacht. The one in the club. How many blonde women have you been hooking up with, Daniel?" You lightly shoved his chest with the back of your hand, hot clear envy dripping from every word you spoke.

He wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling it to his heart. A look of ease crossed his face and he seemed rather pleased with your reaction.

“She’s no one," he spoke calmly, the other hand gently cupping your cheek. "I tried but I couldn’t. There was always someone else on my mind.”

You let out a deep breath. "We don’t make any sense.” It was true.

“Do you really feel that way?” He asked you. His expression was stern, just daring you to refute him. You just wanted to lean in and forget the world.

“You wouldn’t even give us a chance, yeah?” He stood up from the bench, evidently done with you. “You’ve already made up your mind. I’m not worth it.”

It made you tear up. Daniel thinking the way you had been thinking about yourself all this time.

“I made a big mistake coming all this way. I should’ve known better. I’m sorry I even bothered."

He began to walk away without a second look. You were frozen in your spot on that damned bench, your chest laden with something gruelling. As if something significant was slipping past your fingers and however hard you tried, you just couldn't hold on.

"You're not worth it? Are you fucking kidding me?" You called out after him.

He stopped but refused to face you.

Your throat constricted due to the tears you attempted to hold back, but you continued anyway. "You're a walking, breathing celestial body, Daniel. I look at you and you shine so loud and bright, it's fucking annoying."

You stood up. "You pull me in, again and again. You have gravity. So overpowering, I'm so tired of fighting it. I can't."

"You burn me.” You took a step in his direction. Another. And another until you caught up to him and clutched his elbow, willing him to turn around. You clasped onto the collars of his coat, refusing to let go. "Whenever I'm close to you, you burn me.”

"I don't care what jumbled up perception you have of me. Fuck it." He shook his head, tugging you close.

"I came all this way and you still don't get it, damn it. I look at you. That's the first thing I do. What will she say, what will she do? You're in my head. All the damn time and it's been so, so long. It's fucking pathetic, that's how much I crave you. I feel real, genuine pain here—” he pointed at his chest "—when I think of you."

You kissed him. Your heart was full to its brim, spilling even. Your tears were trailing down your face, or were it his? It didn’t matter. You had lost to him. A loss that felt much, much more than a win.

You kissed and kissed and kissed him until he had to pull back, breathless. "You know I would love for this to go on. Hell, even if this is all I do. Ever. But I'm freezing my balls off here. You gotta help me."

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “You’ve been flirting with me all these years?”

He looked at you, really looked at you, while he ran a thumb over his swollen bottom lip. “Thank you for finally catching up. What else did you think?”

You pecked him lightly this time, running your nails along his stubble. "Let's go home."

As you were walking back, his arm locked around your waist and your temple slanted on his shoulder, your mobile started to buzz. A homely warmth flooded your chest as you looked into his ardent eyes, showing him the screen.

You both burst out laughing. It was your team head calling you.

Taglist: @lemonlime09 / @lharrietg / @irish-waffle / @thatchickwiththecamera / @superdeath / @danielricciardhoes / @mk15x / @altalin / @prettybiching / @readerselegance / @thebagginsofbaggend / @corvuswolf / @xourownsidee / @regulusharper1553 / @bekybekybeky

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 smut #f1 imagine #smut #angst #formula one fanfiction #dr3 x reader #daniel ricciardo x y/n #maps

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 3 years ago

Text

7th Dimension (Chapter 1)

7TH DIMENSION SYNOPSIS/MASTERLIST

Masterlist for other fandoms

Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)

Summary: The life you had back in earth was exhausting that it made you think that living in a different world would make you happier. Though, an anomalous man thought otherwise and has given you the chance to give in to your nonsensical wishes. That is, to live in the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. A dimension filled with Cursed Spirits who eradicate human beings, leading on fragments of the Legendary which can be found anywhere. A normal human being from earth to be teleported in the world of the Jujutsu Society came with a price---a cost that consisted of acquiring no abilities but having the chance of bringing evidences, such detailed but torn manga panels which can be considered as an anticipated fate, a hapless past and future. How would their world react to that?

Warnings: The word shit. Mentions of anxiety and the word death. Hehehe. Reader who is entirely drowning in loneliness or just tired in everything. A little Gojo and Megumi slandering. Though, they're still not yet about to appear in this chapter. MANGA SPOILERS along the way. Y/N means the insertion of 'your name' but I'm only using it for this chapter because you'll be having your own nickname in this series. The reader will have some distinctive personality, attributes, some sort of specific physical aspects or a minimal family history but there is no face claim as this is an x Reader fanfic.

A/N: Welcome to the first chapter of 7th Dimension! I'm excited for my first Gojo Satoru Fanfic! Heehee! Tell me your thoughts about it if this did caught your attention! THANK YOU! Also, THANK YOU AGAIN FOR THE 100 READS in WATTPAD and also for making me achieve a weekly ranking there despite of just posting this officially this week! Seeing people adding this new fanfic written by me in their reading lists inspires me so much! I didn't know people will actually be interested! ENJOY! (*whispers*: which is why I already have chapter 2-3 done already because y'all are awesome. *coughs*)

Tell me if you want to be tagged whenever I publish chapters for 7th Dimension! Send an ask or message me!

COMMENTS, REBLOGS AND HEARTS ARE SUPER-DUPER HIGHLY APPRECIATED! IT GIVES ME SUCH MOTIVATION!

Words: 3.3k+

Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF's too. I only own the plot of this whole fanfic. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be. This has no connection towards the anime or manga as this is a FANFIC.

PASTRIES REDOLENT OF SUGAR AND SPICE. Cinnamon as particular to some, considering such sweetmeat gliding through the air. It smelled like toffee and java with the sublime perception of your own tranquility and solace. There was no doubt that Chomp for Sweets has been your reward but also the living proof of how you've endured the torment of living in a world that was meant to squeeze all the breath in your lungs as you grew older.

It was draining.

Tiring.

An inconvenience to be alive in a world filled with misery, heartbreak, pain, anguish, loneliness and a whole lot of evil that the heavens created to work ourselves into becoming better humans. For yourself, for your family or friends.

Better. Maybe, it was actually the opposite of how life wanted you to be.

Someone better.

"Ms. Y/N?" Angie curiously called from the cash register, she was a co-worker, the only person whom you actually trust a hundred and one percent besides the others who were new to the pastry shop you owned.

Your profound thoughts were ceased, engrossed with the ponder and also from the manga you were reading. If you were actually being honest, you didn't like where this certain chapter was going because the author has begun a massacre of diminishing your favorite characters. It was actual chaos. Fight scenes were obviously epic, though it left everyone vulnerable into thinking rationable decisions, creating them into what an author would do to break the readers' hearts.

The author, under the pen name Gege Akutami still wanted them to think how a decent human would.

Normal was not the correct term if you were being specific because nothing was entirely ordinary with a manga entitled Sorcery Fight.

The only ounce of realism with sorcery in earth would be witches, paranormal activities, ghosts and many other spectral things that not even a scientist could even explain.

Curses might be true but the only curse you've received or given were probably words that would be considered explicit or a state of the moment where you've stepped on a piece of Lego from your nephew who was playing on the floors of your home.

"Jujutsu Kaisen," now, Angie was a lot more comprehensible. Considering the distance that was cut short. You've craned your neck to give her a skeptical glance, quietly asking what she needed when you were on a break after helping her with groups of friends who came in a while ago, they were rowdy but entertaining to watch. It made you reminisce with the moments you had with your friends before you've graduated your bachelors degree.

You were once carefree, filled with blithe and in all likelihood the ones where who had jokes hidden beneath her sleeves whenever you were acting out your extrovert phase.

Yet, today---Adulting has taught you how to conceal every problem with a smile and it was funny how one year could change you apart.

"You know I read this because it's my comfort---" you were cut off as Angie sat in front of you, hair tousling around as she energetically does so with that special beam of hers. "---your comfort zone. I know, I know. You love anime and manga." she took a breather, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she leaned back on her chair to stare straight into your eyes.

"---I assume your Gojo is probably dead already considering the gloomy aura that I'm feeling from you," your co-worker playfully teased, noticing the huff of breath she heard. The smile on your face lets her know that she had already taken you out of your pondering, getting you in a better mood was the best she's at.

"No," you shook your head, grabbing onto your JJK book mark which you have bought from an online shop and carefully inserting it in between the chapter where Shibuya Arc had already started. "---he can never die. He's the strongest. You know this---"

Angie raised both of her eyebrows in question and rather to vex you even more with a look, trying to act pesky, "Yeah, until he gets trapped inside a box. He's strong for sure."

You couldn't help but shake your head with a smile, knowing that her spoiling would never get to offend you, knowing that you were already spoiled due to the reality of the internet where scrolling down could ruin a scene or story for you in just a blink of an eye.

"Stop slandering him." you deadpanned nasally with a snort, grabbing onto your bag to check the time through your phone. There was no use for the fingerprint sensor as it has already been 72 hours of not typing in your passcode. Hence, you've begun typing Gojo's birthday because your brother instantly knows you would use your own birthday for a lock code, considering you do not have a man in your life as of the moment.

So, using a 2D character's birthday was safer than yours to keep your family from lurking through your phone. It was better they knew nothing of your preferred kind of online books. You wouldn't want them collapsing for your wholesome...choices.

"---Or else I'm slandering your Megumi." you taunted while being focused on your phone, "---Sea Urchin." another snort left your lips as you focused on the time. It was exactly 8:30 PM and closing time for your pastry shop was around 9:30 PM.

"Gojo-in-the-box. Get it? Jack-in-the-box, Ms. Y/N?" Angie started to send back a banter as she begun to lightly tap on the underside of your flat shoes with her heeled ones. You hushed her to tone it down a little bit due to that one certain petite customer dressed in nothing but a black jacket and cap which refrained you from seeing if it was a man or a woman. You've left the customer to his or her own comfort as you understood that other people find peace within their own.

Hence, Angie was left unflustered and continued her jests with such boisterous singing which made you groan. "I told you to stop calling me miss when we're the only ones around."

"Oh, humble. The complete opposite of her favorite character trapped inside the prison realm. Hmm." your co-worker wiggled her eyebrows back at you as she stood up from her seat, "But, we're not the only ones around tonight yet, Ma'am." she pointed back at the only customer who refrained from giving eye-contact with everyone ever since tons of customer dined-in this afternoon. Yet, this person was still lingering around your shop like he or she planned to stay till closing time.

You've given this customer a once over and noticed how he or she shifted, turning to look away and out of the window before you've grabbed onto your Jujutsu Kaisen manga and comfortably leaned back to continue reading, nodding back at Angie as she planned to buss out everything for the day.

"Touchè."

"Take care going home, Angie."

Standing alongside the pavements of where your shop stood behind you both, your home was technically kilometers away from the designated area of your pastry shop while Angie's were closer than yours, it was a walking distance from her perspective but not to your loafing self.

"You too as well, Y/N. Try not to read your manga or watch anime from your phone while waiting for your Grab." she worriedly reminded you, nudging you on the corner with her elbow.

You've given her a look, shrewd enough to guess that you weren't going to listen. "I'll try. But I wouldn't promise."

"Curses might lurk around!" Angie added as a matter of fact in the middle of rummaging through her bag, in search of her wallet and planning to stop by the convenience store just around the corner of their street.

Curses. You've given yourself a giggle, the only curse you've received was from people who hated you or even just probably the slip of other people's tongues whenever they've gotten you involved in such accidents that can be considered normal.

"The only curse I can receive is probably a 'Damn you' or 'Shit yourself' when I bump into people, Angie!"

She gave a nonchalant shrug, laughing herself off as she tried to entertain you into waiting for your Grab driver to arrive which should've been by now. But, he was taking too long to show up.

"You may never know when to meet some kind of Mahito or Pseudo-Geto out there!"

"Funny. Robbers and Murderers are the real scary shit you can meet here." you've taken a pause, cocking your head to the side as you pondered for a little while, staring at the skies. It was definitely evening, the dead of the night as the stars weren't lucent as it ever been since the past few days. The stars were acting as a paragon to your fate, gradually being deficient since you've suddenly hit that phase in your life where everything felt like a void bound for replenish.

"Go find me a Suguru Geto then," you've immediately cut those train of thoughts from the beginning of your stirred up anxiety and pressures in life, "Losing hope in finding a white haired man with dazzling galaxy blue eyes, eh? Long, Japanese, black haired men are more realistic, correct?"

Your smile fell at the mention of that, instantly wanting to rip a part of her hair to cease her wisecracks, "Stop shoving it on my face that 2D fictional men aren't real, Angie."

She'd given you a pat on your back while she fixed the straps of her bag, planning to finally take her flight and actually head home, "There's no need to cry for now. I'm finding you a cosplayer!"

"Whatever! Take care! We're going to Japan soon!"

Angie turned her heels, back shown to you as she snapped her hips from left to right, dramatically doing so with a wave of her hand in the air, "Liar! Our passport's expired right now! Go fix yours first and let's go on a vacation!"

You've shook your head with a smile, watching her head home and turning around a corner, leisurely being swallowed by the silhouette of her shadows in the middle of a town you've finally become accustomed with from the first time that Chomp for Sweets has ever been built.

Was it a daily habit? How staring out of nowhere became your new-normal. You were blanking out, trying hard and refusing to be imagining that you were in a different timeline, dimension or space. Definitely, daydreaming about living in a certain world where Sorcery Fights isn't healthy because you knew you would be dead in an instant if you were born or teleported with no abilities for defense.

Unless, you had the strongest sorcerer with you around and he keeps you safe. But, you also did not want him aiding to your defense at all times, it would be plain torture for you, especially to such man. Besides, he wouldn't even dare. Plus, the menace would probably do everything he can to annoy the heck out of you and let you leave his side, constantly asking why you were even living in their world when you were a useless woman to everyone around especially Jujutsu Sorcerers.

You probably just weren't worth to be protected nor were you privileged enough for it.

Kasumi Miwa would probably understand you because of how she called herself useless. Though, there was no doubt that she entirely wasn't and you were the most useless out of all knowing that you would possess nothing but a breathing technique.

Such breathing technique where you could hold your breath for seconds before you're in the midst of panicking for your stupidity because humans needed to actually breath oxygen.

You've grabbed your phone from your pocket, turning on your lock screen using your fingerprint sensor, looking left and right for any robbers who plan to steal your gadget out of your hands.

"Sir, how many minutes would it take for you to arrive?" Sent 10:01 PM.

"I apologize for the wait, Ma'am. Traffic is delaying everything. Please hold on." Seen at 10:02PM.

"It's fine. What's your car and exact plate number---"

Being in the middle of typing a message, your JJK manga on your other hand. You've sworn you've heard such gut-wrenching sound that was enough to spout the nastiest blasphemy of your mother tongue that was bound for the heavens to begin their walk of shame from how your inner thoughts begun to sputter but your mouth refused to speak out loud.

It was the sound of paper being torn apart. You just knew that a piece of your manga has been ripped into a single piece when you've realized and raised the hand that was holding onto your manga. Never believing it at first, In denial of the truth as you were tightly closing your eyes---trying to convince yourself that it wasn't happening. Howbeit, after opening your eyes into saucers of hell, this manga robber was in for a chase when you've seen that you were left with two manga panels. Drawn within the panels left only one particular man which triggered your outcry. First would be one of Gojo Satoru's past arc and the other was from the present. Shibuya arc to be precise.

The manga panels left to you was strange, considering how you were probably holding your book in between the Shibuya Arc incident, yet it left a part where it didn't even had the chapter of Gojo's past because it was the wrong manga volume.

Did the robber seriously exchange a torn paper of Gojo's pretty face for one manga volume? you thought in between disbelief and anger. Entirely dubious that this thief even thought you had no print out of this certain panel where Gojo was looking awfully sightly?

"My manga! You should've taken my phone not my manga you idiot!"

There were lots to be honest. You had them pasted on the walls of your room.

It was probably the audacity of this thief which pushed your cynicism away, running away for your life. Impulsive as everybody would try to judge, but it was as if your feet caught the best of you and next thing you knew, it was heading towards the robber who seemed to take the right turn around a corner. Proceeding to run through a shortcut to pass the highways.

This thief was a fool to choose the highways because there were probably people walking around and you could immediately cry for help.

"Oh no you don't! Y-You ruined a piece of chapter for me!" you weren't no Yuji Itadori where you could run for miles in just minutes, nor had Divine Dogs to use for help, cursed tools or innate techniques that would help you capture this mugger.

You did not live in a world where having such abilities existed.

"What the heck---! It even has my Gojo Satoru in it!" you've caterwauled with no remorse, screaming at the top of your lungs. With it also being as a way to bellow your traumas and miseries in life---it acted like a route to lessen your distress with the world you have been questioning. A definite outcry you've ever want to experience. Screaming, that is. "You're leaving me with only a manga panel of him?!" another nonsense spout of clamors from your side. The manga thief stopped at full tilt on the other side of the pavement, leaving you with nothing but the back of his or her black hooded jacket in view.

"Give it back!"

The robber turned at full view. A penumbra of good and evil mixed together like it was bound to be varied into a balance of catastrophe to ruin more than what fate planned for you. The moon did not seem to shine like it was supposed to just as how the stars appeared in the night sky. The moon and stars amalgamated into the caliginous sky, how the contours of this thief created light and iniquity, a phantom of your dreams and hell together as one from the moment it spoke.

An incognito. Faceless. Anonymous. The demarcation of his or her identity, a cloud of umbra that was planned to act as if the unknown.

He held onto your manga with his right hand as you stood on the middle of the pedestrian lane, hearing no cars nor honks of trucks wanting you to move away, showing you the cover of your manga as the moon shone brightly, accentuating the cause of this accident as a foreground of another ill-fate chalked out for you to prepare and experience.

"You will live a life just like how the others did." the faceless man spoke, grumbling and cavernous which was enough to give you goosebumps everywhere. He fished his gloved hand out of his other pocket, it was also Stygian just as how he was dressed. yet designed with coruscating stones of white, purple, yellow, red and sky blue on its knuckles like a gauntlet of an antagonist in one of Marvel's universe. "---and it will always be preordained." he continued to talk as you were ceased from doing anything but stare at him in return, like this was a fate ought to undertake.

"Hate yourself more, and more negativity will hail even on the other side,"

"What---" you were cut off as you couldn't move a step, trying your hardest to free yourself from the crazed man who were speaking gibberish assumptions on things. How it went from stealing your manga into being dragged by his mania left you looking like a dum-dum. You should've just left your obsession to his hands and just bought a new one. He was probably more than just an obsessed Jujutsu Kaisen fan. Another one of your inner thoughts added as a matter of fact whilst getting overwrought by his whim of foolish senses.

He raised his gloved hands, his palms opened towards you like he planned to blast you off. His hand begun to emit such excruciating luminosity which made you tightly shut your eyes, covering yourself with your own arms to keep yourself from being blinded.

Despite of your eyes shut off, you could entirely hear the horns of a large freight truck that seemed to rush towards your side of the road. Of course, vehicles would pass by a woman who stood stupidly in the middle of a highway. The honks begun to blare violently, loud enough for you to ask yourself...

Was this death?

The termination of a life that started to drain you slowly?

Or was this the start of another?

"He remembers the other you. Your physical aspects. But, quite idiotic enough not to know the differences of your souls." the mixture of his voice with the noise of the city, an amalgam of fear, uncertainty and affliction. "---But, you will still leave him more than just battle-scars, pain and trauma."

It grew reverberant. Time stood still just like how you were as stiff as a statue, asking yourself if this was the destiny you finally deserved for all your reckless choices.

"Just like how all of them did because of your own thoughtless wishes,"

With one final blow and second in this life you were in meant for another to begin. However, the differences were is that you weren't reincarnated. The trumpet call of death started as the vehicle never raced to a stop. You knew your demise was pursuing you in a flash.

You were bound to become bootless in a world that wasn't meant for you, nugatory to no avail and probably the person shedding a tear or two to a life that would bring you distress.

Or so you thought?

"Clandestine: Alternate Universe. 7th Dimension, Open."

Y'all ready to live in Jujutsu Kaisen with your normal self? Will Satoru throw you in the middle of the ocean because of your useless, thoroughly simping ass? we may never know what will happen especially of the possibility that you have an idea on what actually happens to every character in their world. But, will he protect you though? Heehee!

Reminders: You might be confused as to why this faceless guy is probably pertaining as to why Gojo Satoru would have the tendency to recognize your face. Please do read the important note before this chapter along with the synopsis to understand further. Heehee. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me as long as it's possible that I can answer them without spoiling you for the chapters ahead.

FEEDBACKS ARE SUPER-DUPER HIGHLY APPRECIATED! IT GIVES ME SUCH MOTIVATION! Gojo's going to be on chapter 2 already, don't cha' worry!

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arhvste · 4 years ago

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❝bokuto, atsumu, suna and aran introducing their s/o in an interview❞

bokuto koutarō

→ E X C I T E D

→ why wouldn’t he be though?

→ he gets to finally introduce his wonderful s/o to the world

→ when his pr team gave him the green light, he didn’t hesitate

→ “ah bokuto! great playing today, might we ask who this is beside you?”

→ “this is y/n! aren’t they good-looking?! i’ve found myself a keeper huh?”

→ rambles on and on about you

→ no off switch

→ “so uh bokuto, do you mind talking to us about your opinion on your game performance today?”

→ “yeah lemme just finish telling you about this time y/n and i went on extreme fishing abroad! 🤩”

→ reporters are kinda like 😀 while he talks about you

→ fans are o b s e s s e d

→ #bokuy/n #stany/n #couplegoals are trending

→ twitter LOVE y’all

→ they love that bokuto doesn’t give af about what the reporters are saying 💀

→ he only seems to want to talk about you right now

→ it’s not like he’s purposely doing it though

→ he’s been wanting to talk about you for so long he’s just excited he’s finally allowed to

→ when you guys meet fans after the interview bokuto stops to chat to every single one

→ they love yourself and bokuto’s dynamic and laugh and joke with the two of you

→ a TON of group fan photos

→ bokuto fans are now y/n fans too

→ they literally decide you and bokuto will be married some day so they might aswell stan now

→ they’re gonna be looking out for you in future appearances with him

→ and you can bet yer ass that bokuto is gonna bring you along and show you off every chance he gets

→ fans are well fed by bokuto and it’s a fact

miya atsumu

→ literally almost fought with his pr team when they told him to wait a bit before introducing you to the public

→ “miya, your fangirls will most likely react badly if you introduce them right now.”

→ “yeah and? let em 🙄”

→ atsumu IGNORES his pr team and does it anyway cause he thinks it’s stupid about worrying what his fans will think

→ it’s not their decision who he dates 😡

→ anyways, he brings you on a talk show interview

→ “good evening miya-san, and whos this youve brought along with you?”

→ “this is y/n, aint they gorgeous?”

→ he is SHAMELESS about flirting with you on air

→ “yer so stunning tonight ya know? just wait till we get home 😏”

→ “m-miya-san! i think we should edit that out...”

→ fans have mixed reactions tbh

→ ya can’t please everyone ig

→ atsumu couldn’t give two shits though 😹

→ this man LIKES AND RETWEETS fans that are bashing other ones for not stanning them as a couple 💀

→ his pr team won’t stop ringing his phone to stop

→ doesn’t care at all, he’s always been transparent with how he likes his fans to behave why would this be any different?

→ in the end, more people start to stan after they see how seriously he’s taking this

→ since he genuinely seems to care and love you, they suppose they can stan y’all as a couple 😐

→ i’m sorry you guys aren’t trending the same way bokuto and his s/o were though 😹

→ give it a month though and a few magazine covers together and you have everyone wrapped round your finger and his fans start to like you more 🤪

→ more than atsumu in fact

→ because you’re so nice to his fans they just kinda convert 💀

→ atsumu doesn’t really mind tbh he’s just glad that you’ve been accepted and he doesn’t have to worry about people stepping too much out of line

suna rintarō

→ another one who doesn’t really care

→ he doesn’t exactly go out of his way to hide you but you guys aren’t big on pda either

→ suna leaves his fans GUESSING and doesn’t even know it

→ his fans literally s c a v e n g e for any little detail or anything about you because you and suna rarely go out and make a big scene

→ y’all are probably just grabbing lunch and his fans have several conspiracies over who you are what what the two of you are doing

→ it’s a whole big thing on his side of the twitter stans

→ suna doesn’t know about this because he’s not even on his own side of twitter 💀

→ suna’s timeline is a ton of stuff to do with gaming because i know this man streams with kenma sometimes

→ y’all can’t tell me that these two wouldn’t stream together and have an elite friendship after the timeskip 😡

→ and somehow suna made it onto barb stan twitter

→ no clue how he got there but he’s not mad about it because he thinks they’re funny af and is now a secret barb himself

→ anyways, eventually the two of you are caught on the street by an interviewer

→ and suna’s just there answering their questions like this 😐

→ he just wants to go grab some milk from the store with you can the reporters just gO away 😡

→ attention is then turned to you after the irrelevant small talk the interviewer had with suna

→ “oh ahahah just wondering... who’s this with you we’ve all been dying for an answer!”

→ “huh? you have? why? it’s just y/n my s/o it’s not that deep bro 🥱”

→ he doesn’t make a fuss about it and neither do you because like suna said it’s not that deep

→ the interviewer is just like 👁👁 and then thanks you and leaves

→ well that was easy wasn’t it?

→ that answers their months worth of questioning ig

→ you and suna later discover about the ongoing theories as to who you are and what you are to suna

→ from then on, the two of you MESS with his fans and constantly leave them guessing as to whether you’re together fr or not because y’all think it’s funny how much they care💀

aran ojiro

→ his pr team don’t even tell him to keep you from the public

→ this man is going to introduce you respectfully and properly and they know this

→ one of the few pro athletes who don’t need to have their social life kept on a leash because he goes the right way about it 😎

→ he brings you along to a magazine interviewing when you tell him that you’re comfortable with going public

→ oh btw, absolutely NO pressure from him to go public everything’s done in your own time

→ mf KING 😡🤚

→ straight away he’s making sure that this interview is based on your relationship rather than just him

→ “hey everyone, this is y/n my partner! they’re going to be joining me today!”

→ the interviewers LOVE you both

→ absolute dream to work with you guys

→ your dynamic is 🧑🏽‍🍳😙👌

→ every so often there’s a question about a recent games he includes you 😼

→ “so regarding your recent game, how well do you think you performed?”

→ “i think i was okay but definitely not at my best, it comes across differently watching from the sidelines though doesnt it! y/n, how did ya think i played from watching from yer perspective?”

→ see !! this man is including you every chance he gets 😩

→ fans adore you

→ literally deem you their parents 😎

→ just like bokuto, aran is wonderful to his fans

→ talks to every single one of them because he was raised to acknowledge anyone who politely acknowledges him

→ has full on conversations with as many fans as he can with you

→ tells them mf STORIES about the two of you and how you met etc

→ his meet and greet is literally story time with aran and y/n

→ fans are quiet and all stand around the two of you as you both tell little stories and stuff about your relationship

→ again, so many group photos

→ you guys literally become the parents of his fanbase

→ some fans are already planning your wedding for you on twitter 💀

→ aran doesnt mind though

→ cause he might just take a few of their ideas when he marries you for real 😏

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206 @totorosleaff @27kei @babyybokutoakaashi

please send an ask to be added / removed from my taglist

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

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hyukxs · 3 years ago

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your gift under the dock [k.sm]

pairing - kim seungmin x reader

genre - pjo au! athena kid! seungmin / hecate kid! reader

wc - 1.2k

a/n - reposting this for @neo-shitty ! i wrote this for a secret santa thing back in 2020 and it has been my favorite fic i’ve written to this day. honestly, i didn’t think anyone remembered it, but having a moot like toffee love this story and appreciate this story as much as i do really makes my heart swell. especially as someone who isn’t particularly confident in my content. so yeah smooch - jules

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Winter at camp half-blood was always the best time of year.

You loved the way the snow gently cascaded on the strawberry field and cabins, making everything glisten in white. The way everyone would peel off their summer shirts in favor of orange hoodies and knit hats from the Demeter kids. More campfire stories were shared, hot chocolate consumed, and just peace. The kind of peace that was hard to feel when you’ve been chased by monsters your whole life. Everyone was so used to always watching their backs. But during these quiet and slow holidays, all everyone could feel was a relief. There weren’t many of you, but it was enough. Enough to make up for the family that was tired of you and your constant mythological mishaps.

It was just until the break was over, and then you would have to haul yourself back to your dorm and endure another semester of mental pain. But until then, you were free to catch up with the rest of your half-siblings and admire Kim Seungmin, the resident Athena star child.

In the six years you’ve been coming to camp half-blood, no other owl kid ever piqued your interest the way Seungmin did. Most of them tend to come off as pretentious and only hung out with each other, but Seungmin was different. He never made anyone feel stupid for what they couldn’t understand. Instead, he shared his knowledge and made sure everyone was up to speed with whatever he was chatting about. From the physics of dual star solar systems to the reliability of gravity in a world ruled by our godly parents, Seungmin made it a point to explain it all. And you couldn’t help but fall in love with that.

The way his eyes shined when he gushed about his favorite topic or how his eyebrows furrowed when trying to figure out a theorem, it was a joy to marvel at him from afar. It was a different feeling even when he was doing something as simple as calling your name from across the pavilion.

And you wanted to feel that way all the time.

That when he looked at you from the other side of the campfire meant something. That him waiting for you outside your cabin to head to archery practice told you that even the small moments were meaningful. It was easy to feel forgotten when you’re the child of a minor goddess-like Hecate, but when Seungmin had his eyes on you, you never felt minor.

You felt remembered and appreciated. Even as you settled with being one of his closest friends in fear of painful rejection, you still felt important in his presence. And how much more could you ask for, as you sit here on the dock sharing a handful of tangerines before lights out, than to just be in his life.

“What are you thinking about?” Seungmin suddenly breaks the comfortable silence in favor of inquiry. “You’ve been pretty quiet since dinner.” you’ve been caught.

“I was just wondering when I should give you your present.”

“I thought we agreed on no presents this year, remember?” he whined.

“I know, but I just couldn’t help myself.” you guiltily admit. “Don’t worry, though, I didn’t actually buy anything too expensive.” your answer makes him cock his head. Still, all you offer in return is your usual sweet smile.

“Here, I’ll just show you.” You head to the other end of the dock and reach underneath, pulling a box from atop the sand.

It wasn’t anything too impressive from its looks—just a long rectangular box covered in silver wrapping paper. You knew Seungmin didn’t care much for fancy presentations, but you hoped that what it contained was enough.

You trotted back towards the edge and sat next to him once again. The gift was tightly clutched in your hands as if you were scared to let go.

“I can’t believe you still got me something, and I came here empty-handed,” he whispered, his voice dripping in disappointment.

“Just being able to see that you survived another treacherous semester is a gift enough for me.” you hummed.

You hand over the present, and Seungmin gently takes it, flipping it around for a clue what could be inside. Eventually, he tears open the paper, eyes settling on a journal bound in smooth leather. His eyebrows furrow, and you can’t help but smile at his predictable reaction.

“What is this for?”

“I know you always say you’re fine whenever I call you, but I feel like you some of your feelings tucked away.

“You spend hours telling me about the possibilities of universes light-years away, but you hold back on telling me when you’re sad or hurting. It’s okay if you don’t want me to know, but I don’t want you to carry the burden on your own. so I was hoping you could use this to spill your heart.”

Seungmin listens intently but stays quiet, lips pursed as he tries to formulate a response. He tends to be the observer. Noticing the small things about people and saving those details for when he needed them, but he didn’t realize that someone else would be observing him.

He kept about a thousand things to himself, out of the hundreds of things he talks about, and somehow you caught on.

It made the longing ache he had for you in his heart feel overwhelming for a moment.

“Oh,” you pipe up again, “I even imbued it with a spell, so no one can see what’s inside but you! so you don’t have to worry about any peeping eyes.” Another detail you kept in mind when you found the gift.

You were beginning to feel nervous as he continued to stay quiet. Was it a bad present? Did you overstep your boundary, prodding at a sensitive topic?

Maybe I should’ve kept our promise and not have gotten him anything.

Seungmin sees the slight sag in your shoulders and remembers he still hasn’t spoken.

“I love it. Sorry, I was just shocked that you would even think to get me this.” you perk up at his voice.

“Of course, I would get you something like that! You always make me elaborate gifts, but I’m not really good with my hands like you are. So I hoped that in all the years I’ve been watching you, I could give you something useful and meaningful.” you confessed.

Seungmin was almost amazed to know that you’ve been watching him for years, not just for presents. To know that he holds as much weight in your mind as you do him, he could feel his ears redden.

“Thank you, y/n. I love it.” I love you. he didn’t know if he had the strength to say that to you yet. Seeing how your eyes lit up at his appreciation was too much for him. Maybe for new year’s eve, he would spill.

But for now, that would be his first entry.

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#districtninewriters #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz imagines #skz fluff #seungmin imagines #seungmin fluff

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becomeawendybird · 2 years ago

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Fairy lights, 11:11, and coffee please!!

fairy lights: if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

In all honesty, and I'm not being flip, but I would want the whole timeline of H/L even if they're not actually together. Like were you really best friends? How did that really happen? What was it like interacting in band/business meetings with them, because we've heard about Harry's temper but I want to understand it. Especially nowadays when we get nothing but robot Harry. Fly on the wall stuff, but I'll just have to wait for the tell-all.

11:11: name three wishes and why you wish for them.

New and extremely stringent anti-trust laws in the United States because everything has gotten way out of hand. Death to corporations especially the ones buying up housing and then not filling those units to drive the rental market up (though that's maybe starting to turn around).

On a completely different note, I would wish away my own burnout. It's tough out here for a bug.

I would wish for teleportation. Between online best friend mutuals, and my favorite cousins living in Hawaii to my Boston, it's time. We just did fusion yesterday which was wicked cool, surely teleportation is next. Chop chop.

coffee: what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

It depends on the day, but in an ideal world: Venti iced blonde latte with oat milk and 1-2 pumps of Toffee Nut or whatever is seasonal like pumpkin/peppermint/irish creme

I would only trust like @londonfoginacup and @lululawrence to order for me.

Send me an aesthetic themed ask

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theotherhufflepuff · 3 years ago

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Simon Snow Trilogy Tarot Cards...

Ok so, a little while ago I saw this frankly stunning artwork by @vkelleyart and I started thinking about the Major Arcana archetypes and how characters from my favourite book series could fit into them.

So I made this list. It took a lot of thought and I’m still not 100% sure on some of them but I have explained my thought process for each card.

I don’t know how much crossover there is in the Venn diagram of “Simon Snow fans” and “tarot readers” but I’d love to hear your opinions and/or alternative suggestions (be respectful though, obviously). I’ve left “visual prompts” for most of the cards explaining what they looked like in my imagination and if anyone wants to draw any of these (or their own alternative version!) please tag me; it would make my day! I can’t draw for toffee so I am 1000% never gonna try to illustrate any of them myself.

List under the cut because it is loooong.

Spoilers ahead for the whole series!

0 The Fool - Shepard - Shepard just follows magickal creatures around and says “yes” to everything... he is the pure embodiment of the Fool archetype to me; care-free, innocent... prepared for everything and yet totally clueless. Visual prompt: Shepard about to (attempt to) step into the fog as he follows a fairy into the forest.

1 The Magician - Penelope - “Penelope Bunce is a fierce magician, I don’t mind saying” Baz, at least once in each book. Penny never worries about not having the power or words available to do whatever she wants; she is comfortable in her power and it is always there, ready to be wielded however she sees fit. Visual prompt: Penny wearing her Stevie Nicks cape, standing by a chalkboard in the classic “Magician” pose, ring clearly held aloft.

2 The High Priestess - Dr Mitali Bunce - Dr Bunce is possibly a more formidable magician than her daughter. Highly intelligent, straightforward and, let’s be honest, judgemental. But she does have all the answers. Visual prompt: Dr Bunce carrying around her laptop, phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder.

3 The Empress - Lucy Salisbury - Lucy exudes the nurturing, Earth Mother vibes that are central to the Empress archetype. She saw the best in everyone and all she wanted was to love Davy and live with him in their cottage with her chickens and their child. Visual prompt: Lucy, barefoot and pregnant, feeding the chickens outside of their cottage.

4 The Emperor - Lamb - This is one of the ones I’m not totally sure about. I went through a few different ideas but ultimately settled on Lamb as the “Vampire King of Las Vegas”. He is an imposing figure, ruling his city with an iron fist; if you are in his favour, Vegas is your playground, but cross him and you will suffer the consequences. Visual prompt: Lamb sits on an antique chair in his opulent suite at the Katherine, the lights of night time Vegas visible through the window behind him.

5 The Hierophant - The Mage - Again, this one took some thought and I’m sure some people will disagree with this interpretation... I’m not completely sold on it myself. The Mage was all about reforming the old traditions of the World of Mages and he amassed a following by doing so. But he turned out to be somewhat of a false prophet; abusing his power to oppress those he deemed “the enemy”. Visual prompt: The Mage in his Robin Hood costume, sitting at his desk at the top of the Weeping Tower, surrounded by his piles of banned books.

6 The Lovers - Simon and Baz - Obviously. As stated at the top of this post, I love @vkelleyart’s version of this card, but there are a lot of scenes across the series that could be used to illustrate this archetype. I personally always love to see the original “and then he kisses me” scene.

7 The Chariot - Fiona Pitch - I struggled with this one a bit and I don’t really think that this is the ideal version. But the image of Fiona, rolling up to Blackfriars bridge in her vintage sports car to rescue Baz from the Numpties really stuck with me so that’s what I went with, for lack of a better idea.

8 Strength - Ebb - Ebb is often dismissed and underestimated by other magicians but she is wicked powerful. But more than that, the Strength card is about inner strength, self control and the wisdom to know when to fight, and when to rest. Ebb is highly intuitive about the people - and goats - around her and is always careful not to talk about her twin brother, only conceding that she knows of his presence once a year and never giving in to the temptation to talk directly to him. Ebb saw the war coming and knew that she could probably end it all by herself with the power she had; but she also knew that she didn’t want that and she had the strength to say no, to eschew the expectations the rest of the World of Mages placed upon her and live quietly, instead. Visual prompt: Ebb in the hills behind the school with the goats, she wears a flower crown that the Dryad made her.

9 The Hermit - Agatha - the Hermit eschews the outside world in order to take an inner journey of self discovery, knowing that this is the only way to find real answers and achieve real growth. Agatha, jaded by the World of Mages, took herself off to California, leaving her wand at home. She didn’t know what she wanted but she knew it wasn’t magic. Visual prompt: Agatha sits on the beach at twilight by a small campfire, Lucy the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel by her side.

10 The Wheel of Fortune - The Crucible - The Crucible’s decisions, like the Wheel’s, are unpredictable and inevitable. Once it’s happened, you’re stuck with the consequences - sometimes bad (being stuck with a toff vampire who hates you) and sometimes good (getting the best room in Mummers house).

11 Justice - Natasha Grimm-Pitch - Natasha needed justice to find peace; her whole story is about justice. She was swift to act when the vampires attacked Watford, dispatching them without hesitation. When she came through the veil to find Baz and ask him to bring her murderer to justice, she knew that would also provide some closure for him, too, both for her death, and for his. Visual prompt: Natasha Grimm-Pitch appearing from beyond the veil, looking for Baz and finding Simon.

12 The Hanged One - Nicodemus - The Hanged One is about feeling stuck, but also about finding peace where you are when there’s nothing you can do about it. Nicodemus chose to cross over for eternal life, but he was stricken from the book; his (considerable) magic effectively taken from him and his fangs removed. He was stuck in between - not a full vampire, not a magician; he exists on the fringes of both communities. He got himself there and then he had to figure out how to get by, carve out a place for himself in order to survive. Visual prompt: Nicodemus sits in the tree in the garden of his mother’s house in South London, waiting for Ebb to come and sit on the empty bench beneath him.

13 Death - [scene on the Great Lawn] - Ok, so.. this might need some explaining. My immediate thought for this card was that it should be the Humdrum but Death is all about clearing out the old junk in your life that doesn’t serve you in order to make space for the new. And the Humdrum isn’t making space for anything. So I was thinking about times that has happened in the story and I thought about how the death of the Mage made room for real progress and an end to the war with the old families. Visual prompt: Penny and Baz (literally) run into a fleeing Agatha on the Great Lawn; the Weeping Tower looms in the background, the Mage and Simon visible through the blown-out stained glass windows.

14 Temperance - Simon and the Humdrum - Temperance is, as you might expect, about balance and harmony. Simon used so much magic at once that he couldn’t control it and it tore holes in the magickal atmosphere. Simon had to fill the Simon-shaped hole to restore equalibrium and stop the magickal firmament from collapsing altogether. Visual prompt: Simon kneeling in the Weeping Tower, pouring his magic into the Humdrum as he fades away.

15 The Devil - Smith Smith-Richards - The Devil is about feeling trapped by temptations in your life, often because we’re afraid of what we would do with the freedom we’d have if we let them go. Which got me thinking about Smith-Richards (that name never gets any less ridiculous) and all the magicians who were taken in by the temptation of “fixing” their magic. But it was a false promise and those magicians who narrowly escaped taking Smith-Richards’ spell were all freed from the idea of their magic being “broken” in the first place. Visual prompt: Smith-Richards (looking like the guy who would be cast to play Simon in the Netflix series) standing on a stage in the packed-out White Chapel, rapt audience hanging on his every word.

16 The Tower - The Humdrum - Originally I wanted to use the Weeping Tower for this card because the imagery is on point but the meaning doesn’t match. The Tower is about absolute destruction, the crumbling of something you thought core to your being. The Humdrum steals magic and renders magicians homeless because of it. The Tower is about having to start again from the ground up - just as the Grimms did when all the magic was drained from Hampshire. Visual prompt: The Humdrum, wearing Simon’s face, stands in the grounds of Pitch Manor, laughing. (I have always thought of the holes looking like a burn in a piece of paper - sort of glowing and smouldering at the edges as it eats away the atmosphere. I know the holes can’t actually be seen - the Normals would freak out - but that is imagery I would use here)

17 The Star - Lady Ruth’s candles - The Star is about hope and healing after the devastation of the Tower. Lady Ruth’s candles were a symbol of hope that kept her going when she thought she had lost her children. They provided comfort and, at the end when it became clear the Lucy was gone, the healing of knowing that her child had finally found his way home to his family. Visual prompt: Lady Ruth’s candles in front of a window, a bright star can be seen through the window.

18 The Moon - Agatha and Simon - So, the Moon is all about examining blurred lines between illusion and reality - nothing looks totally clear in the moonlight. It reminded me of how Simon never really seemed to have a clear view of his feelings for Agatha and what their relationship was. When he properly examined his feelings, he found that he didn’t love Agatha and was going through the motions because he thought it was what other people expected of him. Agatha was doing the same. It also brought to mind Simon, going out of his mind worrying about Baz when he was missing - as well as basically every other thought Simon ever has about Baz before Christmas Eve 2015 - and somehow mistaking it for hating him?? Simon is not stupid but sometimes he’s real dumb. Visual prompt: Agatha and Simon meet on the ramparts, both looking for Baz, and break up.

19 The Sun - Simon - This card is all about innocence, optimism and joy. Nothing about this series personifies this more than Simon flying above Shepard’s truck in America, feeling free and hopeful about the future for the first time in over a year. Visual prompt: Shepard’s truck drives through the vast empty desert, the sun beating down. Simon flies above the truck, joy on his face.

20 Judgement - Niamh and Agatha - Ok, this one was hard to figure out and this is maybe not the right solution, but I was very stuck. Judgement is about self improvement through self reflection. As a small twist on that theme; Niamh and Agatha challenge each other’s view of themselves and their interactions with the world around them. Visual prompt: Agatha and Niamh, sweating to death in Niamh’s “shitty Ford Fiesta” (I’m very salty about that line; my Ford Fiesta is lovely and it has aircon). Niamh is frowning, obviously.

21 The World - Simon, Baz, Penny and Shepard - The World is about completeness, the ending of a story, fulfilment and belonging. At the end of AWTWB, Simon has finally found his biological family, he is starting to accept that his boyfriend and his found family love him for who he is, magic or no, and he can finally start to imagine a future for himself. Baz has learned new information about his vampirism, Penny has found new confidence and Shepard is finally fully accepted into the group. Visual prompt: Baz, Penny and Shepard sit on Simon’s sofa (possibly still pink from Baz’s spell, possibly he spelled it navy blue again) Simon sits on the floor. They’re all eating leftover sandwiches and cake from Lady Ruth’s.

#carry on #carry on rainbow rowell #rainbow rowell #simon snow #simon snow trilogy #wayward son #any way the wind blows #awtwb #tarot #tarot cards #major arcana #baz pitch #Penelope Bunce #shepard love #snowbaz

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animatedrapture · 4 years ago

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RINTOBER: [ Achilles' Heel ]

word count: 2,222

suna rintarō x reader

tags: ambiguous end, implied major character death, angst, implied sexual intercourse, toxic relationship, detailed pain(?)

song: achilles come down - gang of youths

a/n: HALLOWEEN SPECIAL because... death...?

a HUGE thank you, once again, to my wonderful wife, love of my life, bby @toffees-main 🥺 for proofreading the final piece and preventing me from sounding like a dumbass like, twice. also, thank you to @newfriendjen and @kaitycole for beta-reading the initial draft!

"Rin, Rintarō, I love you!" You shouted from the bleachers; a proud smile decorating your features as you cheered for him right after he'd hit the ball to the other side of the net, securing EJP Raijin another point—so close to winning.

His gaze and yours were two opposites of a pole with a pull unparalleled—a pull science can only wish to decipher. He finds you as he rotates through the set up and there's a beam in his eyes, making him break out into a grin you just know he couldn't find it in himself to reserve for later.

That day, that match—Suna Rintarō was named the MVP of the game. He owed it all to you and the swell of his heart with each cheer he heard from you; your voice distinct as if it were the only one that mattered in that whole gymnasium. Perhaps, at least that time, you truly were all that mattered to him.

But not anymore.

The first—the first was the lack of replies, the dryer replies. I love you's met with Love you's and very little effort to hide the lack of sincerity beneath. It began through texts until it was the quick, snipped tone laced with the parsimonious manner he answered you. The act of it was much like an attempt to deprive you of water until you're but withering rose in his grasp that he would rather replace than try to plant again and save.

Just how long were you willing to go without the water you needed to stay alive?

"Rin, love, I'll prepare dinner for us tonight, come home early, okay? I'm cooking your favorite!"

"I'll try," was his reply as you watched each of his hasty movements through your shared bedroom.

"I prepared you a bento, too. It's on the kitchen counter," you continued as he attempted to ignore the way you looked at him similar to the way you look when you're lost and searching for something. He hums in response, and just as he was about to reach for the door, you call out to him, "Rin, where's my goodbye kiss?" in the usual tone you would pull back then when he would forget and pepper you with kisses in retaliation, offering an apology before heading out.

He looks back at you with exasperation, "I'm late, Y/N." He doesn't wait for you to answer before he has the door shut close.

That's how you know he also forgot the food you prepared on the kitchen counter.

Foolishly, the answer to the question was that you were willing to wait until your next life for his love to drown you into bliss again. It's that answer that's disrespectful to the mystery of reincarnation—but you're everything Suna Rintarō wanted you to be; that is, if it was a fool he wanted you to be, you would play the part better than any award winning actor to have ever lived could. Even if it was a miscreant he wanted you to be, some sort of heretic to the laws of the world and the conditions of love. You'd be everything he asked of you. After all, who were you if not his other half?

Who were you if not water to shape into whatever container he put you in, right?

The second—the second was the lies that slipped past such sinful crimson lips. Oh, by the heavens, as if the lack of fondness in the timbre of his voice as he spoke to you wasn't enough to put cracks to the cemented foundation of you and him. Cruel, it's so cruel—you wonder if you're lacking somewhere, have you changed? Are you no longer diamond in the sea of glitter—? Worth not of his time nor the beating of the caged heart you thought you've acquired?

Now when he speaks, even the very sound of his voice reverberates like a sharp spear piercing through your chest without mercy—as if you're Spartan in the Battle of Thermopylae. The lies that come along with them about how training ended late again, or that he's travelling for a match again—Huh? No, you don't have to come, Y/N. I need to focus.

Did he have to lie about who he's with, what he's been doing? It's laughable. As if you wouldn't kiss away the taste of anything that lingered in his lips, if it was blood, alcohol or the lips of another girl. Rintarō, did he not know you enough to know you would surrender to his will no matter what mud followed his footsteps?

Ah, but, what would admitting such things do to his pride? Maybe it's that—or maybe he liked the way the lies were like lemon and salt to a fresh wound. You think, you never thought you could be so masochistic.

Third—the third is the sharpness of his gaze. It's the same gaze, same pair of eyes you've loved for such a long time and you fail not to love to this very moment. You're softer than clouds but now most hollow in comparison to the unacquirable stars among the cosmos—you think they're there but they're just a burst of light, something that has probably died lightyears ago.

It's like chokehold, the fourth—the fourth is like chokehold and he, the assassin. Ruthless—he's ruthless when he looks at you as you're not more than a tedious chore to him and the ring on your finger held no promise of relentless love greater than what a deity could offer.

Foolish—you're foolish. Delusion is a coping mechanism to the ones whose realities have been robbed in front of them—delusion is what you're supposed to call it when you fill your head with all the excuses and all the things you tell yourself have to change. You used to be a masterpiece. A masterpiece to him; as though you're Holy Grail found in a gallery of things that could never begin to hope they would ever amount to you.

Delusion is ignoring the liquor in his lips, the intoxicating smell of his cologne mixed with alcohol and cigarette smoke. You're confused and your reality that seems to have been distorting more often than usual. You question the strings that premeditate fate when it's you feeling the drunkenness and hangover the next day when it should be Suna and the tabloids of "Suna Rintarō spotted in yet another bar." You wonder if each sunset and sunrise you watched with Suna was a mere fever dream when it's you who vomits on the toilet. You, who sobs on the bathroom floor.

"Sfumato," your friend tells you, "The gentle blurring of edges to make rendered objects appear as one with their environment." The edges blur when you call that delusion as love—you only have to wait long enough before both are truly one and the same. The pain disguised as martyr sacrifice to the greatest allegory of love to exist. This is what you're told. They say, "Y/N, you've confused love with delusion," and yet you don't listen.

You don't listen most of all when you're back underneath him but you feel like you're being bloodied all over, stained like wine to a white dress. Yet you allow yourself to indulge in the kisses he's abated you of, you revel in each time you ask him to tell you he loves you and he finally does as he luxuriates you of your desires and of your whines for love—nevermind that he was doing it for himself. After all, it is as the word suggests, a luxury.

Suna Rintarō had become a luxury you couldn't afford, therefore, he did not have any business of giving himself to you. Not unless he wanted to.

Is there such thing as a free reign over the heart of someone? Hand it over as they will but how long would they truly allow you to borrow it—? Borrow it because one never truly surrenders such a vital thing to human functioning. Yes, you are and you have been delusional to believe so.

"You own the entirety of my heart, Y/N," you're unsure whenever it echoes in your head. He brings you enough torture, why must your own brain create such clamor in your head. Was such pain necessary? Is pain to love much like Adam's rib to Eve?

"It's a promise ring, bunny," he said as he tucked your hair behind your ears—his gaze is intense, almost like you would disappear from his sight if he looked at anywhere or anything but you.

You stared at the ring that shone under the light of the restaurant, your vision blurring at the tears welling from your eyes and you try your best to choke in the sob that involuntarily escapes you.

"Hey, Y/N, what are you cryin' for?" He questioned with a chuckle, looking at you with amusement dancing in his eyes while his thumbs reached out to wipe away each tear that betrayed you—falling down your cheeks as he cupped your face.

"I-it's nothing, I—I'm just happy, love," you answer him through your tears.

There's a smile playing across his lips, he tells you, "'m just making a promise that I'll marry you one day, bunny, is all."

You nodded eagerly with a wide smile even as the tears that left you continued to fall, "I'm making a promise to say yes, Rin. No matter what," you answered him through your sobs, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Guess I should start practicing to get on one knee then, yeah?" He laughed as he pulled you closer, his arms around you, you giggled along with him—it felt like you were molded together to form one perfect piece, like the act of staying there for all of eternity, in each other's arms, would turn you into one. Entangled together in all the right ways—as if Rapture has befallen the Earth and that was your final state as did the universe.

The fifth—the fifth is the screaming, the fights. Who would have thought you would break like a mere twig stepped on in the darkest forest on this Earth? It was under his shoe did you break from; each word that left his mouth was scathing—they didn't feel like a stab or pins and needles to the human heart, they felt like burns of acid that slowly ate at your decaying soul, breaking heart, dwindling sanity.

"I don't get it, Rin! Why do you treat me like this?!" You screamed through your tears, your chest heaving as your lungs tried its best to support you, even when it's already been punctured by the shattered pieces of your heart that continued to beat in separate shards, digging further into your lungs, damaging your ribcage, piercing your throat.

"Please, God, just tell me what to do—Rintarō, tell me what I need to do to turn us back to the way we were, please," you begged, falling to your knees and you let the shattered items on the floor puncture your skin. You felt numb yet your whole body was buzzing. The pain from the pieces of glass from under you doesn't register in your brain because all you can feel is the pain that was spreading from your chest and out into your whole body.

Under his mercy had he turned you inside out and greedily taken every part of you—everything you surrendered on your own volition until you were nothing, not even a shell of yourself but more like a ghost floating through the air. It looked like a battlefield—and perhaps it was. Love was never something you come out alive from. Love was greedy, selfish, treacherous. Love is like an assailant you allowed to enter in the safety of your own home.

"Don't you get it? Y/N, I don't love you anymore!"

No. You think, no. No, it repeats in your head, over and over. Denial. You were in denial, at this conjecture, you were aware of even this.

"I stopped loving you long ago, Y/N. You were dumb enough to stay." Has he always been this truculent towards you? You wonder but you can't recall anything else but the echoing of his words. Words he used like a champion of the battlefield, liberating away the life of his enemies.

No. Don't say that. You don't mean it. No.

Suna thought you would be the arrow to his heel—the one to bring him to his knees in the most torturous of ways. In reality, maybe you were more his heel than the arrow. He was both Achilles and his actions, the arrow that brought him to his own demise.

Sixth—the sixth was sickening grief. You're so unfair. You're so selfish. How could you run away from him, only to scream his name and the tormenting shout of "I love you" that haunted him awake or in his slumber. How could you be so cruel? To let him fall to his knees in front you the way you made him to. Ruthless—you're so ruthless. The pain was the excruciating kind, crashing towards him like ocean waves bringing him farther from the shore and near to wherever you were now. How could you leave him like you did?

After all, what was he if there wasn't you?

📞 violet is calling... all content featured belongs to ©️ animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.

#RINTOBER #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna #rintarou suna #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #;cloud #haikyuu angst #suna angst #suna rintaro x you #suna rintaro x y/n #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintarou x reader

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yoongiseesawmp3 · 4 years ago

Text

brown piano - yoongi

i’ve never written fic on this account before so bear with me, but here’s a little something about the only man i trust. and no i will not be capitalizing anything xx

summary: friends to lovers. yoongi and y/n have known each other casually for a couple years and never intended to take their friendship further than a few study groups together or the occasional dinner with friends. but being in the same applied piano class has brought them together, and their mutual love for epik high bonds them more than they’d like to admit.

warnings: language, probably. there’s a couple cliches in here too, i couldn’t help it. i probably only refer to yoongi as a honey dumpling twice

word count: 8.3k (its really just a long ass love letter to bv4/in the soop yoongi)

playlist: end of the world - epik high, gsoul / love song - epik high, park sung woong / go - epik high / can you hear my heart - epik high, lee hi / life is good - epik high, jay park

“fuck,” you whisper, nimble fingers slipping over the wrong keys once again. for a music composition major, you’re pretty lousy at practicing your instrument. mostly because you practice and mess up and get so frustrated that you stop for a minute to scroll through your phone and before you know it, your time in the practice room is over.

the time limit on your practice contributes to your stress, but the keyboard you keep tucked in the corner of your apartment just doesn’t do this song justice. a lot of the students in the school of music ignore this room, because the old brown spinet creaks too much for their “high class” performances, but you like it for its personality and the all-encompassing feeling it gives to your songs. when you play this piano, you can’t help but listen to its song. a keyboard or a grand can easily become background music to you, but this one is stubborn. it will not be ignored, so you come back to it when you need to fall in love with a song again.

the pinging of your phone pulls you out of your daydreams about the daunting black and white keys in front of you, and you check the time left on your reservation before opening your messages.

it’s a text from yoongi, who’s been talking to you more often lately. usually you just exchange pleasantries with each other when your big group of friends happens to get together, but you’re both in this applied piano class and it was nice to have a familiar face among the pretentious students you struggle to get through lectures with.

the quiet music technology major never caught your attention before this class, because he never had much to say when you were talking in passing. but this class has taken your friendship from nonexistent to yoongi texting you semi creepy photos of you through the practice room door with the text “your posture is shit, that’s probably why you keep messing up.” you swivel around on the bench to glance at the door and notice a mop of black hair in the distance. he must be finishing up a session in one of the studios because he’s usually your competition for this practice room. the piano reminds him of the one he played growing up, he says, so it’s the easiest for him to practice on. he’s more gifted than you are however, so he doesn’t need to practice for class as much as you do. hell, he could probably think of a song to play on the spot and still ace the performance midterm without another thought.

“where are you headed?” you text back, shuffling your sheet music together as neatly as possible before you start gathering the rest of your things. “i sounded so bad that you’re running away?”

“no,” he replies, and you can picture his shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. “need coffee.”

“omw,” you text quickly, going from tenderly placing things in your bag to slightly shoving them down enough to zip everything up securely. you gaze sadly at the piano before you leave. you really should try and practice some more, you have a few minutes left in the room, but you let out a sigh and head for the door instead. you need coffee and your dumpling shaped friend right now. hopefully the combination will help you get over some of your stress.

you find yoongi just outside, leaning up against a pillar of the building with his hands in his pockets and a bucket hat that he’s produced out of nowhere pulled over his head. he peeks up at you from under the brim when he hears the rickety doors clang shut, and he smiles slightly before pushing himself off the stone column.

“how’s the song coming?” he asks casually, leading the way to your mutual favorite coffeeshop like it’s second nature. which honestly, it’s getting to be like that. how did you go from barely knowing yoongi to spending almost every day with him?

“uh, my fingers don’t work anymore i think,” you explain. “i’ll get it though. i just need to practice more.”

“i could always help you,” he offers. you quirk an eyebrow at him and he continues. “like, i could listen and maybe watch the way you’re playing, and if there’s a spot you’re constantly messing up on i’ll just know to cough a lot during that part of your performance so the professor doesn’t hear it.”

“wow, who would’ve thought that min yoongi would be my knight in shining armor,” you joke. “what were you working on?”

“another song for my mixtape,” he tells you simply. “i want to sample an epik high song, but i can’t find one that fits the vibe yet.”

“hmm,” you think. “you’ll find one. or you can wait for their new album and use something off of that.”

“yeah, but i won’t have the same connection to those songs that i do with the old ones, you know?”

“then just go back to your favorites. have you tried doing something like lesson one?” you ask as you arrive at the coffeeshop. yoongi opens the door for you and ushers you inside, scooting you out of the way so someone zooming by on a bird scooter doesn’t accidentally clip your heel.

“when i first started working on this i tried doing my own version of it, but i don’t think anything i have to say would be better than tablo,” he explains.

“that’s not how you should be thinking when you’re making music,” you scold. “whatever you make will be worth listening to, and whatever you say in those songs will mean something. thinking like that will only limit what you make, min yoongi.”

he pauses and looks at you with an unreadable expression before he pulls his lips into a straight smile and nods.

“huh. you’re right, y/n,” he sighs.

“and for that little nugget of wisdom,” you say, “you owe me a coffee. toffee n-”

“toffee nut latte with no sugar, i remember,” he says, cutting you off as he pulls out his wallet. “what size?”

“considering i’m a little high strung from not nailing my song yet, probably a small,” you tell him. he nods and orders you a medium anyway and gets a muffin for you two to split. you fall into a comfortable silence as you wait for your order, but yoongi breaks it after checking his phone.

“namjoon wants to know if you’re free this weekend,” he deadpans, making it sound like a statement when it’s meant to be a question.

“i don’t know, why?” you ask, pulling the warmed muffin closer to you. you start picking out one of the chocolate chips before you continue. “isn’t it fall break? i’ll probably stay here and practice. it’s too short of a break for me to go home.”

“apparently we’re all staying in a cabin or a box or something up in the mountains,” yoongi says. “it’s supposed to be a combined birthday trip for him and jungkook, i think it might just be the guys but he says you’re welcome to come with us. he says you look stressed.”

“why does he think i look stressed?!”

“because you do,” namjoon says, popping up beside you from one of the couches against the wall. he must have been buried in a book or his laptop, because neither of you noticed him when you first walked in. he gives you a casual side hug, tussling your hair and talking to yoongi above your head. “hey hyung.”

yoongi grunts a hello in response, and you share an eye roll with namjoon before he goes on about the whole mountain thing. he explains where it is, how long you’ll stay, and some of the other specifics that have already been arranged. it sounds nice, so maybe you should go.

“you should really come,” namjoon half pleads. “it’s kind of last minute, so not many of our friends can make it, but we need you to be the dj for the weekend. and i think you deserve a break.”

“you do,” yoongi chimes in, picking up your drinks and leading your small group to a table near the window. “it’ll help you come back to the song later without getting tired of it. you should never be frustrated when you’re playing.”

“i guess i’ll consider it,” you say. “you’re lucky i live too far away to go home for just a couple days, otherwise i would have to turn you down.”

“and i don’t need that kind of rejection on my birthday,” namjoon teases.

“your birthday was last month,” yoongi points out.

“but i’m celebrating it now, hyung. birthday rules still count for the celebration of said birthday.”

“yeah, but it’s not fair that you played the birthday card then and you’re doing it again now...”

sipping your latte, you laugh to yourself as yoongi and namjoon go on with their petty argument. you notice a fleck of chocolate on yoongi’s lip from the muffin, and you involuntarily lift your hand to wipe it off, but you stop yourself before it can be noticeable. you just let your hand fall to your coffee cup and take another sip of your drink, thinking about how many clean sweaters you have that you can wear this weekend.

you end up in the car with jin, hoseok and yoongi on the way to the cabin that they all rented. you’ve been roped into cooking duties for the weekend, and the four of you went grocery shopping before heading up to the mountains to meet everyone else. actually, you begged them to let you cook, bring booze, anything, since they didn��t let you chip in for the weekend at all in the first place.

“i’m not going to invite you last minute and then make you pay for anything,” yoongi told you clearly as you left the coffeeshop after talking to namjoon. “plus, jimin owes me at least $50 for ruining one of my mics, so i’ll just make him pay extra.”

like namjoon said, you are technically the dj for the weekend. you know the guys well enough to know what kind of music they want to listen to, so you crafted the perfect road trip playlist and shared it with hoseok, who’s in the front seat. he’s groaning and skipping each song he doesn’t like while jin calmly drives, complaining every now and then when hoseok skips a song jin knows all the words to.

and yoongi? well, he’s quietly scrolling through his phone beside you in the backseat. jin insisted on you sitting back there, claiming hoseok has some kind of carsickness that only appears when he sits in the back, so that meant you and yoongi were cramped in the tight space together. no biggie, but you keep bumping elbows with him, and you have to pee, and you didn’t sleep enough the night before so you’re already a little testy. you try to situate yourself so you hopefully forget about your need for a restroom and you bump into yoongi once again, and it sets you off. you don’t do anything aside from shoot him an angry glare before huffing a little bit and adjusting yourself so you’re fully looking out the window next to you. a few moments pass in silence save for the sound of go by epik high playing over the speakers.

you’re pulled from your mini rant session in your head to, oh my god, yoongi nudging your arm. you’re ready to give him a piece of your mind when you turn to lock eyes with him, but the delicately peeled tangerine that he’s offering you is so...confusing? and slightly endearing, so you abandon your plan to be mean to him and just graciously take the sweet fruit.

“where’d you get this?” you ask as you pull apart the half he handed to you.

“did he give you a tangerine?” hoseok asks with a smile, peeking at you both in the rearview mirror.

“yeah, like out of nowhere too.”

“if it’s oddly warm y/n, don’t be alarmed. he keeps them in his pockets for safekeeping,” jin explains.

“in your pocket?” you laugh, making yoongi’s cheeks tinge pink. “have you ever sat on one?”

“i don’t wanna talk about it,” he grumbles, bowing his head to focus on peeling off the stringy white skin left on his slices of citrus. the car falls into silence again and you notice everyone bobbing along to the epik high song still playing. you smile to yourself and finally pop a piece of the tangerine into your mouth.

it’s maybe the sweetest thing you’ve ever eaten, and you surprise yourself by thinking for a moment that its sweetness could be due to the fact that it came from yoongi.

“are you still working on your mixtape hyung?” hoseok questions, once again warmly breaking the quiet of the car.

“yeah, why?”

“have you tried doing something like this?” he asks, referring to the last few bars of go that play as jin turns down a road that must be just seconds away from the house, it looks exactly like the pictures the boys have shown you and you let out a sigh of relief at the thought of a bathroom and a bed.

“i have,” yoongi starts, peeking at you without turning his head. “y/n suggested it, actually. we talked about going back to this album for inspiration and it’s helped a lot.”

“it has?” you ask, beaming at the thought of bringing yoongi out of his funk with your mutual love of this group. yoongi simply shrugs and makes some non committal sound as the car comes to a stop.

“alright everybody, thank you for riding jin express. please don’t forget to rate and tip this ride in the app once you exit the vehicle,” jin jokes. everyone shuffles to get out of the car, and as hoseok pops the trunk you’re reminded that you really should start cooking right away. you politely ask hoseok to bring your bag in with his stuff, and he promises not to drop it before you grab some of the groceries and head for the kitchen.

once everything is taken care of and the cars are unloaded, you find yourself in the middle of a crowded kitchen full of ingredients and booze and boys. not a bad place to be.

hoseok did bring your bag in for you, you can see it laying by the couch a few steps away from the kitchen island. you’ll just have to hope there’s a room left for you at the end of the night, because your back won’t do well on a sofa.

“so what are we making, chef min?” you ask, washing your hands after playfully pushing jimin out of the way.

“carbonara,” he says simply. “namjoon’s request.”

“and did you get what i asked for hyung?” jungkook asks, several beer bottles distributed evenly between both his hands. as he waits for yoongi’s answer he passes the bottles around until everyone has a drink and he looks satisfied.

“yeah, we got the pizza stuff. we’ll make it tomorrow when we watch the movie.”

“what movie are we watching?” you’re curious, only because the last movie you watched with them was one you’ve all seen hundreds of times collectively so it was less watching and more reciting the movie line for line.

“that’s a secret,” jungkook says with a glint in his eyes. “my choice.”

“it’s gonna be some sappy love story, i’d bet ten bucks on it,” jin jokes.

“make it twenty and i’m in,” taehyung adds.

“oh you’re on.”

despite never cooking together before, you and yoongi are a well oiled machine. you receive some help from jin in the form of chopping or washing, but for the most part it’s you preparing everything, from the chicken to the sauce and handing it off to yoongi to be finished in the biggest pot of pasta you’ve ever seen. it smells amazing though, and you’ve attracted a park jimin who’s a few drinks ahead of the chefs and he has a mischievous idea in his head.

“so how long have you two known each other?” he starts out innocently, speaking more to you than to yoongi.

“uh, i guess i met yoongi at a party freshman year, when i met all of you. but he was arguing with someone, so i didn’t get to say much. just introduced myself and moved on,” you explain. “we haven’t really been friends, at least i would say, until we took this piano class together.”

“and how’s that going?”

“fine, considering he and i are the most competent out of all of them,” you state matter of factly, earning a chuckle from yoongi.

“most of the kids in there took this class thinking it’d be an easy elective grade.” yoongi adds, sliding beside you and reaching across to grab the colander you just used to drain some vegetables. as he retreats you catch a whiff of his cologne and a hint of tangerine. you smile to yourself and turn back to jimin.

“plus yoongi and i played the same song for our first assignment, so i had to confront him about that to establish dominance.”

jimin laughs maybe too much at this, and yoongi pipes in from the stove to quickly change the subject.

“y/n, i’m gonna need the cheese for the topping soon.”

“yes chef!”

dinner is ready soon after that. jimin had to be removed from the kitchen for tasting things that weren’t quite cooked yet, and jin took his place next to you. it seems that all of the boys are interested in learning more about the person that yoongi insisted on inviting this weekend, but you don’t know that. after a final taste test from the three of you and several approving nods, jin summons everyone from the rest of the house.

“it’s ready!!!” jin yells. it’s too loud for the situation but you’ll soon learn that these boys usually are. it gets their attention though, because one by one they file into the kitchen and grab plates and start serving themselves. you get your own plate and follow behind taehyung, who’s currently wearing a blanket cape. while you wait, you feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around to find yoongi.

“y/n, i already made you a plate,” he tells you, holding up one of the two plates in his hands. “c’mon.”

“oh, thank you,” you reply, returning the plate in your hands and gratefully taking the one yoongi extends to you.

“did you hear that? he made y/n’s plate and not mine,” jungkook pouts.

“yeah, my feelings are hurt,” jimin whines.

“at least it’s not your birthday!”

“i wouldn’t have made you a plate no matter what, jimin,” yoongi defends himself. “but i wanted to be sure y/n sat next to me, i was at the food, i got a second plate. no biggie.”

“leave the man alone,” namjoon cuts in. “he’s being a good host to the outsider.”

“outsider?!” you ask incredulously. “i just made you dinner. be nice to me, birthday boy.”

“y/n, i looooooove you,” jungkook coos, plopping down at the table across from you and yoongi. “it looks delicious.”

“it really does,” namjoon agrees. “thanks for making it. especially you, y/n. you didn’t have to.”

“i don’t mind,” you shrug. “besides, i wasn’t sure how well any of you could cook and i didn’t want to eat shit for the weekend, so...”

your sly remark is met with a chorus of insulted voices, mostly from jin and yoongi, but jimin pipes in that he’s good at everything while namjoon and taehyung insist that they “try their best” in the kitchen, and jungkook just nods and says something about ramen for eight.

“yoongi’s quite the chef, actually,” jin says. “he can make almost anything.”

“that’s impressive,” you say with a nod, peeking at yoongi. his cheeks are turning pink ever so slightly.

“yeah, you should ask him to cook for you sometime,” jin continues. “maybe after one of your late nights in the music building.”

there are knowing glances exchanged all across the table, but you and yoongi are oblivious. he hasn’t looked up from his plate in a few minutes just to be safe, and you really have no clue, you think it’s some best friend inside joke. which it is, depending on how you read the situation. namjoon brings the attention back to what the plan is for tomorrow, and the little tension between you and yoongi dissolves without notice until it’s time for bed.

after dinner, everyone went their separate ways, jin and jungkook flocking to the game console in the living room with hoseok watching on, jimin and taehyung made a mess of the kitchen as they cleaned up after dinner, and you found yourself outside by the fire with namjoon while yoongi shuffled through the cars, mumbling about some bag of producing equipment he couldn’t seem to find. it was easy hanging out with them, which is saying something considering that these boys are basically family. but they’ve welcomed you with open arms, and it isn’t until you’re bundled up with a nice blanket and a crisp cider that you realize how much you needed a break like this.

your eyes start drooping as you stare into the fire, and namjoon seems to have the same idea as you because you both stretch at the same time and mumble something about going to sleep. he says he’ll handle the fire, and you take the blanket from his chair, along with yours, and trudge back into the living room.

“hey, where did you guys put my stuff?” you ask, looking behind the couch where you noticed your bags earlier. jimin and jungkook are the only ones left awake, and jimin glances at you quickly before replying.

“i think jin brought your things upstairs, y/n,” he explains. “first door on the left.”

“oh, thanks,” you reply, gently laying the blankets on the back of the couch before you head to the stairs. “night guys.”

“good niiight,” they both sing-song back, and you laugh as you shuffle up to your room.

the door is closed, so you reach out to open it with no hesitation, but when you see yoongi sprawled out on the bed, you jump a little.

“damn, y/n, you scared me,” he mutters, sitting up and dropping the notebook he had been scribbling in. “do you need something?”

“uh, no?” you reply, looking around. “i just, um, jimin said this was my room, so, i guess i opened the wrong door, is all.”

“wait, are those your bags? i thought they were namjoon’s,” yoongi says, pointing to, yep, your bags, laying at the foot of the bed.

“what?” namjoon asks, poking his head into the room. “i’m with jungkook.”

“are there any rooms left?” you ask, looking between them both. “i don’t want to intrude, so if i have to sleep on the couch-”

“what’s with all the chit chat?!” jin whisper yells, popping his head out of the room across the hall.

“y/n doesn’t have a room,” namjoon answers.

“no, y/n is sleeping with yoongi,” jin says, face twisting into a smile once he realizes his wording. “i mean, the two of you are sharing a room. you have the biggest bed, so i thought it would be more comfortable.”

“are you sure there isn’t another room one of us can sleep in?” yoongi asks with a certain emotion hidden in his voice that you can’t quite place.

“nope, y/n is your friend, so you’re stuck together,” jin says with finality. “now shut up, i already have to listen to hoseok snoring, i don’t want to hear any more bickering about beds.”

“hey, i don’t snore!” a voice, obviously hoseok, shouts from behind jin.

“good night!” jin laughs, shutting his door. namjoon chuckles as well, giving you and yoongi a sympathetic shrug before he heads to his own room. leaving you all alone with yoongi. you slowly turn back to him, quietly shutting the door behind you.

“i, uh-”

“sorry-”

“no, you go.”

“i was just gonna say i could sleep on the floor,” yoongi offers, but before he can even finish his sentence you’re shaking your head.

“no way,” you refuse. “it’ll be no biggie, right?”

“right,” he agrees.

“right,” you nod, convincing yourself that this isn’t as awkward as it seems. “i’m, uh, gonna go change in the bathroom though.”

“that would be smart.”

falling asleep in the same bed as yoongi was no big deal. really, what was the harm? it’s not like this trip has awakened feelings for him that you didn’t know you had...except it absolutely has. which is why you’re so freaked out in the morning when you wake up next to the man you just dreamt about cuddling all night.

wait.

your pillow wasn’t that warm when you went to sleep.

and you weren’t holding onto anything either.

cool, yeah, no big deal, definitely. you’re just latched onto yoongi’s arm while you drool on his shoulder. very attractive and not at all weird friend behavior. as you’re silently freaking out, eyes barely open, you register warm breath hitting the top of your head, and you look up to catch yoongi staring at you.

“oh, shit, sorry,” he stutters, pulling his arm from your grasp too soon. “i’m sorry, i wasn’t, like, i was trying to figure out if you were awake or not-”

“yoongi, it’s fine,” you laugh. “you staring at me is better than me turning you into my personal teddy bear. sorry about that.”

“you’re good,” he mumbles, sitting up. his hand rubs at the back of his neck, something you register as his go to nervous habit, as he keeps speaking. “it was nice actually. uh, because of the cold.”

“right,” you say, smiling to yourself. a layer of silence falls over you both as you lay there and yoongi fumbles for a minute on his phone. now you’re the one staring, looking up at yoongi’s delicate features like someone just took a blindfold off of you and you’re seeing the world in such a clear, sharp image. you’re noticing yoongi like you’ve never noticed him before.

to stop yourself from memorizing the outline of yoongi’s profile, you pull the covers off and get out of bed, groaning at the cold. you throw on an extra hoodie and some wool socks, noticing yoongi doing the same. once you’re both dressed, you’re staring at each other again, and the silence returns. it’s not awkward, just heavy, and you break it with a simple, “yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“don’t tell the guys i drooled on you, please.”

“as long as you don’t tell them i was staring at you.”

the kitchen is buzzing more than you thought it’d be, cups of coffee already poured and the stove sizzling with eggs, sausage and some sad attempt at pancakes. last night when taehyung said he tries to cook, this must be what he meant, because the finished plate of “pancakes” looks like...a good try.

you beeline for the coffee, inhaling the comforting scent and enjoying the warmth it brings to your fingers. as you take your first sip you realize the boys have been quiet since you and yoongi ambled downstairs.

“so,” jungkook begins. “how’d you two sleep?”

“fine,” you both reply simultaneously, raising a few eyebrows from your audience. convincing.

“sorry,” you apologize. “not a morning person.”

“neither is yoongi,” namjoon notes.

“seems like it’s a good thing you’re sharing a room then,” jimin says over the rim of his coffee mug, smug smirk not as clearly hidden as he’d like it to be.

“hyung,” taehyung pouts from the stove. “can you help me with these?”

“i’m not good at flour-based things,” yoongi replies without a glance, deepening the pathetic pout on the chef’s face.

“i can help you, tae,” you offer, sliding past him and taking the spatula. he utters his gratefulness, going as far as kissing your hand, and yoongi finds his ears flaring red at the sight. chill out, he thinks to himself. tae’s just being tae.

but jin notices the change in yoongi’s demeanor after taehyung’s playfulness. it seems that when it comes to the two of you, one of the boys will always notice something before either of you do.

ok, so, something that wasn’t made totally clear to you is the fact that this is a ski trip, the main event of the weekend is skiing, and here you are with nothing thicker than a nice sweater to keep you warm. maybe it was mentioned in passing and you just didn’t pick up on it, but the conversation last night at dinner made you realize how under prepared you were.

that’s how you end up shuffling through the ski lodge down the street, laden in several borrowed layers. an extra pair of pants from jimin, a hoodie from jungkook and a jacket from hoseok. and yoongi’s gloves, which he insists he won’t need because he suddenly has to work on his mixtape before he loses his inspiration. you wonder if it’s the sight of the mountain covered in artificial snow that does it, because you’re even thinking about how you wish you could paint or draw so you can capture the true beauty of this place.

but yoongi knows the reason he has to write these lyrics down now is because of the lingering feeling of you holding onto his arm, head on his shoulder and delicate breaths brushing over his chest as you slept so peacefully. in all honesty, yes, he had been staring at you, for quite some time actually. and it was while he stared that he got the idea for this song.

so, yeah, he needs to write it down now, and he figures the best time to do it without prying eyes is while everyone is occupied with skiing. he hunkers down in the ski lodge, promising to watch everyone’s stuff as the rest of you layer up and carry the rented equipment outside to the slopes. you follow jimin and taehyung to the bunny slope while jin, namjoon and hoseok go toward the snowboard-only trails with jungkook deciding on the competition style ski slope. as you walk out, you look back at yoongi, admiring the concentrated look on his face as he passionately writes down whatever is on his mind, and for the briefest moment, you hope that he’s writing about you.

“i’m never going skiing again,” jimin declares, dropping all of his wet clothes in the living room of the rental as soon as he gets inside. “why did i fall down so much? how did i get so wet because of that?”

“well, jimin, snow is just frozen water, and water is wet, right?” namjoon teases. jimin’s response is to throw a soaking scarf at namjoon, gross ski slope water flinging everywhere in its wake.

“ew, jimin!” you yell, dodging the tail end of the scarf as it makes a terrible sound when it collides with namjoon’s chest.

“he deserved it.”

“yeah well now i’m covered in your gross sweat water too,” you whine. jimin acts like he’s going to throw something else wet and squishy your way, and you shriek before you dodge behind yoongi as protection.

“don’t get me involved in this,” he groans. you mumble an apology, secretly wiping some of the water off on his scarf.

“i’m gonna go change,” you tell him. “so knock before you come in.”

yoongi nods in response, heading toward the kitchen to get out the ingredients for dinner tonight. as per jungkook’s request, you’ll be assembling your own pizzas, which means you’re off the hook for cooking, at least. everything is premade, it just has to be warmed in the oven, and jin has already declared himself the pizza master, so you just get to enjoy.

“wait, y/n!” yoongi semi-shouts, stopping you on the first step of the staircase. “can you take this up with you? you can put it on top of my black bag.”

“which one, you have three,” you playfully dig, taking the bundle from his hands anyway. it’s his jacket from earlier wrapped around something, his journal maybe? and you tuck it under your arm as you continue upstairs.

you drop the bundle on top of yoongi’s things, knowing he’ll grumble about it messing up how neatly he arranged all of his bags and their contents. that’s why you find yourself peeking back at it after you’ve changed. plus the nagging feeling in your brain that maybe, just maybe, there’s something written about you in there has you tip-toeing to the corner of the room before you gingerly pick his jacket up, letting his notebook tumble out. you hold back, neatly folding the jacket and draping it over one bag before you lean down to grab the notebook, which happened to fall face down, pages open.

it’s not a crime that you glance at the words as you pick it up, and you’re reading the whole page before you can stop yourself. you’re about to start on the next group of words when you hear a knock at the door, and you drop the notebook, feeling caught. you scramble to put it neatly with his jacket, but the words inside are running through your head as you call out to yoongi that he can come in.

if he knows that you were snooping, he doesn’t show it. he simply thanks you for folding his things, and you nod at him quickly before you duck out of the room and go back to the kitchen, all the while thinking about the lyrics that made your stomach do backflips while at the same time making your heart feel totally content. what you read on that page was pure comfort embodied in a few words, and it came from the comfort yoongi feels when he’s around you. you recognize that feeling, those words resonating because that’s the same way you feel when you’re around him. you smile to yourself, thinking about how to confront yoongi about this.

except you can’t. because then he’ll know you were looking at his things, his innermost thoughts. you know how personal his lyrics are to him, and you know he’d be upset that you looked without his permission. so you resign yourself to making your sad little pizza, distracting your mind with cheese, cheese and more cheese. hoseok must notice the gloomy look on your face, because there’s suddenly a ball of sunshine at your side. he slides ingredients onto your pizza without you knowing, until you look down and see a smiley face staring back at you. you can’t help but laugh and lean into his warmth, giggling as he makes up some silly voice for the new pizza face he created.

yoongi enters the kitchen at that moment, seeing how you smile at hoseok like that, laughing so easily at his actions, and suddenly the song he was so eager to write, to compose, to pour his heart into, suddenly he wants to go upstairs and burn the pages. he won’t, because he knows he’s just being jealous, but he distances himself immediately, silently helping jin with slicing some fresh onion or prepping the oven for another pizza. yoongi was ready to show the song to you after dinner, but now...maybe he never will.

once you’ve all eaten an unhealthy amount of food, and consumed an impressive amount of alcohol (”we have to finish it before we leave!!” - jimin), you’re all gathered in the living room to watch a movie, another jungkook choice. it’s some sappy love story, and you find yourself looking over at yoongi each time something touching happens onscreen. jin notices as well, nudging yoongi the next time he sees your eyes drift in their direction. yoongi acknowledges jin, who directs yoongi’s attention to you, and when your eyes meet you can see something has changed. you turn away, looking back up at the tv and shivering despite the warm fire just a few feet away. taehyung, sitting next to you on the floor, offers you a corner of his blanket, and you take it, scooting closer to him as you try to focus on the terrible plot of this movie.

the boring movie, the warmth of tae along with the fire, and the two glasses of yoongi’s fancy whiskey you wanted to try now sitting in your stomach all lull you to sleep at some point. tae shuffling around next to you wakes you up, and in your stupor you look around and can’t find who you’re looking for.

“where’s yoongi?” you mumble with a yawn.

“already in bed,” taehyung explains. “he went up a little while ago.”

“hm, ok,” you half-whisper, voice barely returning after your quick nap. you stand up and stretch, alerting everyone to your movements because you’re right in front of the tv. jungkook whines, and you side step out of the way. “m’goin to sleep too.”

“alright,” taehyung says, pushing the blanket out of your way so you don’t trip. “sleep tight!”

“don’t let the lovebugs bite!” jimin chirps out, making some of the boys giggle. you don’t register it as you walk to your room, just barely awake.

for the second night in a row you’re surprised to see yoongi on the bed, still awake, but tonight he’s got his laptop and all of his producing equipment is laid out around him. he doesn’t acknowledge you entering the room and you don’t pay him any mind either, kneeling down to rifle through your bags at the foot of the bed. once you find what you’re looking for, you can’t decide if it’s the sleep or the whiskey, but you unabashedly take your sweater off right in front of yoongi. suddenly he’s jumping out of bed, equipment scattering.

“uh, what- why, what, what are you doing?!” he asks, voice an octave higher than usual as he looks anywhere but down at you. you laugh at how jumpy he is, and quietly apologize.

“sorry, i should’ve warned you,” you explain. “too tired to go to the bathroom.”

“tha-that’s fine,” he replies, still not looking at you. “tell me when you’re ready.”

“good,” you say once you’ve pulled on the shirt you slept in last night. “why’d you come up here so early?”

yoongi risks a glance at you, color coming back to his cheeks once he sees that you’re clothed again. he starts meticulously packing up the tech covering the bed, leaning over his laptop and furiously saving what he was working on before he closes it.

“uh, i just didn’t like that movie,” he lies, not wanting to mention how jealous he was seeing you laughing with hoseok and then sharing a blanket with taehyung. he doesn’t have a right to be jealous, but he is. he wants to tell you how that made him feel, but he doesn’t.

“ugh, me either,” you groan, rolling up one of the stray wires on the bed before passing it to yoongi. “not my favorite genre.”

yoongi notices that you’ve folded the wire the way he likes, without harming it too much and with the ends tucked in just so. the fact that you remember such a small detail has his heart warming again, and suddenly the gloomy thoughts he had about tonight have washed away. he all but forgets why he was in a bad mood in the first place as he looks at you, crawling under the blankets and he has the urge to stop you, to wake you up again so that he can play you what he was working on. but he can do that later, he will. he sees you glance up at him, patting the bed next to you.

“c’mon, i promise i won’t drool on you tonight,” you assure him, and he laughs before pulling the covers back on his side so he can lay down. he turns the lamp off on his bedside table and then settles in, suddenly missing the warmth of you from last night.

“good night,” he mumbles, looking over at you on your phone, setting an alarm for tomorrow. the rental ends in the early afternoon, so there can be no sleeping in.

“night yoongi,” you reply, locking your phone. you keep it on your chest for a moment, contemplating how tired you actually are. before you came in, you could’ve fallen asleep on the floor, but now, laying next to yoongi, you’re reminded of those lyrics and you don’t think your mind can turn off. after a few minutes of silence, you decide it’s probably best to just try to sleep, having your phone on might bother yoongi. you need to charge it anyway, but you groan as you remember you never packed your charger.

“hm?” yoongi hums at your sound of frustration.

“do you have a phone charger plugged in over there?” you ask quietly.

“mhm.”

“can i use it?”

“yep.”

“are you almost asleep?” you ask, even quieter now, moving over so you’re a little closer to him than before.

“trying to be.”

“i’ll plug it in then,” you say, carefully reaching over him to grasp blindly until your fingers reach the cord. you fumble with it for a moment, successfully plugging your phone in eventually, and you start to retreat to your side of the bed. as you pass back over yoongi, you place a quick kiss on his cheek and mumble another good night, not even realizing what you’ve just done.

there’s no way you can fall asleep now, and neither can he. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks up.

“y/n.”

“what.”

“look at me.”

slowly, you turn your head back to him, and his intense gaze has you blushing before he even says anything.

“sorry.”

“don’t apologize.”

“ok. right. sorry,” you quickly reply, voice still barely audible, but with the lack of space between you two it’s not hard for yoongi to hear.

“y/n,” he says again, this time grabbing your hand beneath the blankets.

“yeah?”

“i think i might be in love with you.”

“that’s....nice,” you squeak back, and yoongi lets out a loud laugh. your blush deepens at the sound.

“that’s nice?” he laughs. “that’s all you have to say?”

“yoongi?”

“yeah?”

“can i kiss you?” you ask, propping yourself up on an elbow. it’s dark in the room, but you clearly see him nod, and you don’t even remember moving to connect your lips to his. the moment you do, there’s a spark of electricity flowing through you. it’s a simple kiss, lips moving in sync with each other, both knowing what move the other is going to make before you even make it. yoongi pulls himself up so he can cage you underneath his arms, long fingers brushing your cheek and sending more sparks down your spine. he cups your face as he delicately tries deepening the kiss, your lips opening just slightly to let him in. he tastes like mint, and something else, something....citrus-y. even though you don’t want to, you pull away from his lips, his pout chasing you as you rest your head back on your pillows.

“what, what’s wrong?” he asks, fear slowly creeping in.

“when did you have time to eat a tangerine?”

“seriously? that’s the question you have for me right now?” he asks, laughing again but quieter this time. it still makes you smile at the sound.

“hm, i do have one question,” you say. it’s dark in the room but you can see yoongi encouraging you to go on with a lift of his eyebrow. your smile deepens as you speak. “how long have you been in love with me?”

“okay, good night,” he grumbles, turning over. you let out a sound of frustration and prop yourself up on an elbow, holding onto his shoulder with your other hand.

“this ok?” you ask quietly, slowly melting into his side. he makes a sound of confirmation, and you pull him back towards you slightly. “i still don’t have an answer to my question.”

“when did i fall in love with you?” he asks for confirmation.

“ooh, you fell in love with me, how romantic,” you tease. “i asked how long it’s been, but i’d take either answer.”

“ok, yes, i did fall in love with you,” he begins. “you’re annoying so it took some time.”

“hey.”

“not done.”

“sorry.”

“and how long?” he continues. “mm, when i saw your name on the sign up sheet for the room with the brown piano, that’s when i knew for sure. so i guess a couple months.”

“hm. alright,” you respond, butterflies suddenly in your stomach and fluttering up to your throat. “that’s.....nice.”

that sends you both into a fit of giggles right as jimin and taehyung are passing outside your door, and jimin pulls him toward the sound. but taehyung accidentally bumps his knee on the door, alerting you and yoongi to their unwanted presence.

“go to bed!” yoongi shouts, making you jump while scaring the now snickering boys outside your door. yoongi lays an arm over your waist seeing you jerk at the sudden noise, and you feel a little bit of that comfort that he so perfectly put into words with his lyrics.

“you too!” jimin shouts back, laughing all the way to his room.

“and you called me annoying,” you whisper to yoongi.

“you know they put you in here on purpose,” he tells you.

“huh?”

“they knew i was into you, so they made sure we were sharing a room,” he explains.

“so you knew about it too?”

“i-i knew we might share a room, i didn’t know we’d be sharing a bed,” he stumbles out. “once i saw there was one bed i assumed they gave you your own room. i’m...i’m glad i was wrong.”

“well min yoongi, i never expected this,” you tell him.

“pff, seriously?”

“seriously,” you confirm. “guess i was too busy with my own feelings for you to notice that you were into me.”

“really?” he asks with a smile. you nod, but realize he may not see it in the dark.

“yeah,” you whisper.

“how long?” he whispers back.

“honestly? probably longer than i’d like to admit. you’re really cute, you know.”

“back at ya.”

“not done,” you scold.

“sorry.”

“but i finally accepted it when i...” you trail off, and then you decide it’s best to just tell him. “when i read the lyrics in your journal.”

you can feel him stiffen at your words, but he doesn’t move his arm from its place on your waist.

“which song?”

“the one from today,” you reply. “wait, which song? there’s more than one?!”

“uh, good night!” he exclaims, trying to turn away again. you grab his arm and stop him though, placing your hand over his.

“min yoongi!”

“hey,” he mumbles.

“i hope i get to read the other ones at some point.”

“you will,” he assures you. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again. “uh, so, you still haven’t used the l word, and that’s totally fine, i swear, but, did i cross a line? by using it already?”

“nah,” you shrug. “i’m just not good at this, so you’ll have to give me a little time. i’ll say it when i’m sure.”

“alright. take your time,” he says with a nod. it’s quiet again, and you think you’re both finally going to fall asleep when you feel yoongi’s lips on your cheek. “good night, for real. feel free to use me as your teddy bear again.”

“you sure?” you ask with a smile.

“i insist.”

the next morning, you keep it chill, trying not to tip off the guys and let them know their little plan worked. but damn, how sneaky of them! you’ll have to thank them later though. for now, you’re helping them clean the house so you don’t get charged for leaving the rental a total mess. yoongi is in the living room clearing bottles from last night and you’re washing dishes with hoseok. yoongi keeps stealing glances at you, and you stick your tongue out at him whenever he catches your eye. once everything is clean, and the bags are in the car, you’re ready to head back to the city to enjoy the last bit of break.

you’re the car dj again, next to yoongi in the backseat again, but this time you have a new playlist. epik high’s new album came out this morning, so you queue that up for your intimate little listening party in the car. everyone is in a good mood from the trip, so you’re talking over most of the songs in the beginning, just noting quickly when you like a lyric or a beat. yoongi scribbles things down when the inspiration strikes him, and your mind starts drifting back to your performance midterm. you’re starting to think you may be playing the wrong song, but the question is, what song will you play instead?

as you get to the end of the album, and the end of your weekend, one song catches your attention. you check your phone, noting the title as you turn the volume up slightly. you listen extra hard to this song, trying to memorize the chord progressions as they come. you start composing the song in your mind, tapping out the melody on your lap as you decide: end of the world will be your performance song. you glance over at yoongi, still focused on his notebook, and you reach out to lightly tap his hand. he looks up at you, hair falling into his eyes, dewy cheeks shining and mouth slightly open, questioning your actions with a quiet “hm?”

“i’m sure now.”

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