#The Tiles That I Cannot Cut Are Next to None!

[sannyo-appreciation-posts]

[ask3w]

ive been reading The Tiles That I Cannot Cut Are Next to None! and youmu has said the title roughly 3 times now. what an amazing doujin

[studentofetherium]

[tribow]

This doujin manga finished somewhat recently and I gotta say, it's very enjoyable. Probably one of my favorites in a while. The artist, Uki Hayahiro, has a great passion for mahjong and touhou. They put together one of the best sports stories I've seen in a while and all the touhou characters are portrayed so well here. Their art has so much expression, I kinda want them Uki Hayahiro to get something official released one day.

They didn't pop out of nowhere either, they've been doing doujin works for a while Some of it is completely original too! (To my knowledge, none of it is translated).

What would we do without DB Scans (Levander)? We might have never been able to read this one without them.

Do you need to know how mahjong works to read this? No, absolutely not. A lot of the jargon and rules may go over your head, but it doesn't matter. What's important here are the character interactions and drama that happens between all players sitting at the table. You'll know who's winning or losing at any given point it's fine.

However, if you're like me and you are actually aware about the rules of mahjong and how it works, this manga only gets better. In Gensokyo's mahjong, players are allowed to use their abilities to gain an advantage (within a few restrictions). The rules are twisted in really fun ways and Uki Hayahiro actually gives the reader enough information to try and figure out what might be the best play. Trying to predict Youmu's moves was very fun.

The only reason why I know how mahjong works was because I watched Saki a while ago and decided to learn the game before watching it. I ended up thinking the game was fun, but I remained a spectator. I took the time to watch real life mahjong games, but never actually played myself. This doujin pushed me over the edge. I'm officially a mahjong player and I have this doujin to blame.

I would highly recommend giving this one a read. I'm gonna go play some mahjong.

[sighonaraa]

it is SO fun to whump jamie HOWEVER. currently very violently rotating a fic wherein it’s sam who gets hurt. sam who goes down on the pitch so hard that the stadium seems to swallow itself into a black hole. sam who can’t get up after. sam who can’t play the rest of the season. and it’s awful and terrible and then—

and then there’s jamie, coming round to sam’s house with movies and chocolates and big ben, jamie, beaming bright enough that sam can almost forget about the rest of it. jamie who’s so determined to prove that he can take care of precious things even though he learned how to love in the shadow of a monster. and he cradles the back of sam’s neck and tells him it’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay. he sleeps on the couch so sam’s not alone, and when sam asks him how he knows the best way to fix a torn stitch, his mouth goes firm and flat and he lets the dull prick of the needle say what words cannot. he won’t let himself fall to pieces, not when sam’s the one who deserves the privilege, and eventually sam does. fragments on the bathroom floor, cool low light and the dewy glow of the moon through the window. jamie finds him sobbing and he sees his own echo next to sam, the outline of an old ghost, and he thinks he’s fucked it. rot spreads. you can’t stop it unless you cut it out, and he’s still here, he’s still here in sam’s house—

don’t, sam says, fingers reaching, voice wrecked and hollow. don’t go. please, jamie, don’t—don’t go.

i’m no good for you, jamie says. the shadows of monsters only bear fruit already gone bad.

i can’t do it without you, says sam. he’d been broken out on that pitch but it had been jamie who’d held his hand all the way to the hospital, jamie who’d been the first one to sign his cast. there’s so much light in this room. there’s so much light. please.

there are few shadows that can survive in the face of the sun. none of them exist here, not on this bathroom floor, not in this home. jamie’s knees bruise on the tile and sam weeps into his shoulder and in the morning they make pancakes soft with syrup. next season will be better. they’re both going to be better.

[mercurygray]

Water hitting the shower tile  for Marion and Colonel Hot AF

Great minds think alike - you and @shoshiwrites sent me the same prompt for the same people. I'm gonna level with you two - This is NSFW AF.

🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️, everyone. Consensual adults doing consensual things under the cut.

--

The worst part of the mission is what comes after.

In the dim light of morning, it's easy to believe that everything will go right - that the plans will work and the guns will fire and the bombs will drop and everyone will come home.

But that's never the case. In the full force of the afternoon, no one can hide from the truth - not even him. Harding doesn't fly very often, but when he does, it's the end of the mission that always catches him. He stands on the tarmac and watches the ambulances, the fire brigade, the gunners and bombadiers and navigators dragging themselves into their trucks, faces torn, souls tired. The worst part of it is that he's supposed to be responsible for them, to protect them, in whatever way he can, and yet - it is a war. He can't protect them from that.

Interrogation is next, even for him. He listens to the others recount the mission for Red and his waiting sheaf of notes, waiting until they're all finished before he speaks, agreeing with everything they've said, commending them for the fine job they've done. Red lets them go, and they troop off to the equipment room and the showers to wash the day off and change back into clothes that don't smell like exhaustion and fear.

But none of that yet - not for him. Neil waits until the very last of the crews is done with their debrief before he, too, finally leaves, shirt sticky, jacket too warm.

No equipment room for him, though - no shared shower and the playful banter of the locker room. Rank has some privileges, and the private bathroom off his room is one of them. He could leave his gear with the boys, but there are some places a commander shouldn't go, and that feels, to him, like one of them. There should be one place where they can always speak their minds and not be afraid of being overheard.

In a dim corner of his mind he can hear the door open and close, and he shuts the tap off and listens for a voice from the other room. "Neil?"

"In here."

There is a long pause, and Marion appears in the bathroom door, by some miracle of nature already in her underwear. He pulls back the shower curtain a little further as she wordlessly takes off her final layer, and reaches around him to turn the water back on and grab his soap from where it rests on the wire shelf. "Pink -" I'm dirty, he wants to say. I'm tired and filthy and you shouldn't see me like this. Come back when I'm clean and myself again.

"Shhh," she says, letting the water rush over his shoulders again, droplets drumming on tile. "Let me do this."

She turns him around and begins soaping his back, his shoulders, the hardness of the soap pressing into his skin and following the line of his back, and he cannot help but close his eyes, feeling the water on one side of him and Marion's hand and the soap on the other. She takes one arm, and then the other, hand filled with soap bubbles as she massages the muscles of his arm, sore after being at a yoke for seven hours. Her hand and the soap go lower, along the front of his legs, and he moans a little, holding out one arm to brace himself against the wall. (Her body has only barely brushed him through most of this - the tip of a breast here, the flash of a hip there.) "Turn around."

He does as she says, opening his eyes to flick droplets from his lashes, and watches, wordlessly, gratefully, as she takes a cloth and begins to do the front of him - his still-tired shoulders and his chest, rubbing his stomach, the trail of hair there. Another noise escapes when her cloth dips lower, gently stroking the length of him, softly cupping him, massaging just a little. No, Pink, you shouldn't, he thinks silently to himself, I'm tired and it's not - I won't be able to -

She shushes him again, gently. "Let me do this, Neil."

He closes his eyes again and lets her gently stroke him off, one arm still braced against the wall, his cock too ready for her hand, the noises in his mouth hardly his own. Wherever they are now is neither here not there, some place apart from England and the war, just the two of them and the warmth of the water and the smoothness of the tile. Her lips find his after he comes, her cloth gently cleaning him off a second time, limp in her hand. "Pink." It is accusation and thanks, both.

She reaches past him and shuts the water off, and for a moment, the two of them only stand there, dripping. He can feel her smile against his cheek. "I wanted to."

"I can't -"

"It doesn't matter," she promises. "Dry off and then you can hold me for a while and tell me I'm pretty."

That won't be enough, he wants to say. She's had her own long day - he knows that better than anyone. She's been waiting at the control tower tracking their progress on the radio, and comparing their charts. And then she's had to listen to all of them tell it to her, over and over and over again. Her own shoulders will be sore and she, too, should have a strong hand between her own legs helping her find release.

He reaches for the towel and dries her off first, his hands cupping her ass, thumbs caressing her breasts, knowing it's not enough against what she's just done for him. She smiles in thanks and climbs out of the shower, gathering up her clothes to lay them out on his chair while he dries himself off and turns out the light.

She's already tucked herself into his bed, and pats the pillow next to her. "You're a little insubordinate, Captain," he murmurs into her ear. "Disobeying a direct order."

"Reprimand me for it later," she replies breezily, and he realizes, in the moment, how far he is away from the man of thirty minutes ago - clean now, and content, ready to begin again. And we will, Neil thinks to himself, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her shoulder. The worst part is that we'll do it again tomorrow, too.

[soraviie]

subject: write to me.oneshot

━ type: Jungkook x gn! reader              ━ masterlist ━ word count: 6k

━ summary: Jungkook is certain of it — you have disabled your work email and as such what's the harm in finally spilling everything that he's ever felt for you? You certainly won't read them...right?

━  connected to: "you think it's unrequited"

━ genre: pining!!! extreme pining!! angst, barely any fluff

━  c/w: Jungkook goes through a depressive episode 

━ leave a comment otherwise I’ll feed you mouldy cheese, don't test me. If you like my work and want to tip, here's my ko-fi. Thank you so much if you do!

Seoul in particular is the kind of city that never sleeps. Jungkook is once again made aware of it when he arrives late at night, kicks open the doors to his apartment and goes to lay down on the bed. Traffic, endless traffic and long strings of people trembling the air with an incessant series of enraged horns. Half-heartedly he greets Bam, plucking the squeaking toy out of the dog's mouth and flinging it to the far side of the room.

Fuck, he thinks, these are outside clothes; I should probably change.

He doesn’t.

Eagerly, Bam noses at his owner's arm, trying to get the man to play with him but at most Jungkook lazily pats his head. Lately, the only sound in his home had been the scratch of Doberman's nails against the glossy tiles. As he gets up Jungkook finds his head slightly spinning.

Eat, you should eat, he reminds himself. He has to do it himself now.

You didn't care for him and left, and he had to do this stupid thing all by himself. Immediately he shakes his head, chasing the resentment away. It wasn't your fault, none of it was your fault. And maybe it wasn't even his. It was just...not meant to be.

For the first time in weeks he actually manages to put forth some effort. Brushing back the hair from his face, the headphones squeeze tightly on his ears, preventing any sort of noise of traffic or ambulatory sirens. He cringes when seeing the biochemical weapon that is a half-finished bowl of ramen sitting next to the sink. There's even an egg there. Some days had gone by good but lately….it all grew to be very bad.

"When did I...? When did I even have this?" he mutters to himself but Jungkook lives alone. There's no one to answer.

The trash that veers dangerously over the side of the bin has to be split into two separate trips. The plastic bag is thin and it rips easily from the strength that Jungkook has to grab it with. Hence, two trips.

The floor needs cleaning, he does so. Laundry...he takes a disgust ridden glance at the array of dirty socks and underwear littered all over the bathroom floor that cannot even be seen from the sheer scale of used clothes piling on top of it. Yeah, laundry definitely needs doing.

As the washing machine goes off in the distance, with no small amount of guilt Jungkook looks at Bam. The dog's eyes are wide and glistening, holding no grudge towards his depressed owner. His tail wags expectantly the longer Jungkook keeps staring.

"Who's a good boy?" his voice though betrays him and cracks, failing to at least simulate the same joy Bam exudes. Jungkook reaches for the snacks — the empty paper crumbles between his fingers. He should go out and buy them. Thank god for Young-mi; had she not volunteered, Bam would have probably not been going out for his much needed walks. He should go out...not just for Bam. The dog has probably seen more sun than Jungkook has, but the mere thought of leaving his house kills a small part within him. It takes all of his strength to even make this empty home of his a somewhat habitable environment.

When he's done, hours into cleaning, there's almost a sense of accomplishment washing over him but before the pleasant feeling can fully settle into Jungkook's bones, finally turning his life back into somewhat normal form, the realization hits him. You won't know that he deep cleaned his apartment, you won't know that he cut his finger washing the knife and neither will you point out the choice of his band-aid (green sharks) with that distantly curious gleam in the eye because Jungkook himself won't be able to tell you any of this. Because you won't be here. Sometimes it hits him too hard and he cannot find his way back to the surface anymore.

Bam comes up to his leg, poking his wet nose into Jungkook's knee. Numbly he turns to look down.

"Sorry, boy, no walks tonight."

Bam's head droops lower and it isn't long before he waddles sadly away, settling in the corner to disinterestedly chew on his favourite toy. Whatever scraps of seaweed and rice Jungkook can scrounge up from the deserted fridge, he eats quickly and with little interest. The bed and his subsequent need to rot in it is begging for his attention but the glint of his laptop — open and left behind on the coffee table — catches his attention at the very last second.

He won't be able to tell you...in person that is. It's been a week since he last wrote to you. He misses you.

Grabbing the laptop, he digs himself underneath the covers, waiting for the email to load.

How many messages has he written to you? 100? 200? By now he's stopped counting. What's the point?

Clicking on a new message, he gathers himself. Despite knowing that you've certainly deactivated your email by now, knowing that you won't ever read this he still feels some semblance of anxiety ripple through his body. Gasping in a deep breath, he relaxes himself, finding strength in the newfound mantra.

They don't care about you. They won't read any of this. It's like talking to yourself.

Hey, no one said mantras had to be happy, right?

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: btw I did a deep clean :D

Hi!

It's been a week since I last wrote to you. Can't say it's been fun. How are you? Are you fine? Are you still liking life back home? You used to complain that you couldn't get the proper ingredients here in Korea...

"Still" liking the life back home...Jungkook scoffs at the choice of his own words, aggressively bringing his finger of wrath upon the backspace button. "Still"...as if you had liked it here. As if you had liked him! He shakes his head once more. For all the supposed numbness that he felt instead of pain, there was a surprising amount of bitterness breaking ever so often through the flimsy pretense he had constructed ever since you left.

“You need any help?” 

He didn’t even particularly want to help you. It was 2:30 in the morning and only now he could go home. He was drenched in sweat and undoubtedly stinky, the strands of hair clung disquietingly to the back of his neck and he just wanted to go home. But you looked so damn…confused. Frankly, if he wouldn’t help you it most likely would be a violation of the civil law. 

Your tired eyes travelled from the dimly lit phone in your hand to his face and as you scrutinised him from head to toe, he unwittingly shivered. 

There’s no such thing as ghosts, Jungkook told himself, ghosts don’t use phones. 

The blankness of your stare disturbed him and after hearing a quiet, barely audible “no” fall out your lips, he bolted, jumping into an elevator without a single glance backwards.

So much for a meet-cute. 

He blinks out of the frayed memory, taking in the newly reviewed mail

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: btw I did a deep clean (of my house) :D

It's been a week since I last wrote to you. Can't say it's been fun. I hope you like being back home. 

I like you.

He reads it with a heavy sigh but proceeds to send it anyway tossing then his computer aside with an easy flick of the wrist. Not like you’ll ever read it. 

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com 

subject: where did you go? :0

Hello, _____________. This is Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook. Of BTS… but I’m sure you probably know that.

I got this email address from one of my managers, well, I may have bullied them a little bit (ヾ;￣▽￣)ヾ but it was for a good cause! 

Anyways I was wondering about next week’s show. You promised me to help with the speech, you know my English is not good╥﹏╥ but I’ve been trying to find you for the whole week and it’s like you disappeared! Even my managers were all incredibly tight lipped about it. Just let me know if you’re still up to helping me. If not, it’s fine. 

I hope you’re not sick, health is important you know!

Whichever it is — whether you’re sick, out of Seoul or just don’t want to see me, please, write to me so I’d know (⌒_⌒;)

Sincerely,

Jeon Jungkook.

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: are you okay?

So uhh…the show is over and I haven’t seen or heard from you. The speech didn’t go so well since I was so worried about you my head was fuzzy but it’s whatever. Life goes on hahaha. I am starting to get a bit worried haha don’t scare me haha. I asked even other members about you but no one knows. The staff is telling me you didn’t have a desk to begin with so it’s not like I could just wait for you there…not that I would do that. I wouldn't….haha. Well, you were our jack—of—all—trades little helper, right? You always helped me with my jewelry and mic, and papers so it makes sense, doesn’t it? That you didn’t have a desk? Idk idk I’m suddenly shy (,,>﹏<,,)

Maybe you’re on vacation? I just thought of that lol it’s probably that. Sorry for bothering you, I hope you rest well! You deserve it, our little fairy! 

Still if you could be so kind as to answer this message when you receive it, I’d be forever in your debt if you would! 

Sincerely, 

Jeon Jungkook. 

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: 

You’re not on vacation. It’s been a month. HR hasn’t approved of you going away and you’re not on a sick leave. 

Yes! Yes! I went to them! You’re not answering and I’m worried, and angry!

I thought we were friends! If you’re going through something then, please, let me know! How can I help? What can I do so you come back to us?

Sincerely, 

a very pissed Jeon Jungkook.

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: you left

The truth is out. I already said it in the subject but I’ll repeat it again, maybe to make it real. Maybe so that I would believe it. 

You left. Wrote a resignation, packed up your shit and left. Just fucked off without saying why, without saying goodbye. 

That’s what hurts the most. I wasn’t even worth enough to say goodbye to.

I really hate you.

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: i don’t know, something

….hi.

It’s been a month. 

How have you been?

I’m…not too good. I’m still here but…eh, I don’t know. The members say I’m sulking and I am in a way but more than anything I’m missing you. I’m missing the chances I had but didn’t take.

You know it took me a while to even like you. I thought you were so cold, in fact, I thought you despised me, hehe, well, maybe you do but I won’t know now, will I? I can’t exactly ask you, can I? Not to you who would answer as I’m fairly certain this email has been deactivated.

It’s the possibilities that hurt the most, you know. I don’t really know you, do I? I’ve never been at your home, never met your family, friends. I don’t know what type of water you like and I don’t know how soft your blanket is. Whether you use mouthwash or whether you shower in the morning or night. I don’t know these things but…I could have. Why didn’t I just ask? Why didn’t you for that matter? Was I…not the one for you? 

Did you think the same as I did?

I remember when that first thought of you crossed my mind, of us being something…different.  It was in the middle of a concert, remember? After the one we had in Seoul. You were maybe 6 months in, still awkward around everyone. You didn’t speak much I remember that. In those days whenever I asked anyone about you, they would say “real quiet but reliable”. I was sitting on the sofa, trying to catch my breath. It was Jimin’s solo so I could have some few seconds of peace and you were there, right in the centre of the pandemonium, absolutely calm. I remember how I wondered: "How can they be so collected? Do they not care?” but you did care. You were working on Namjoon’s jacket, weren’t you? Wardrobe malfunction. You weren’t even supposed to. Little helper is one thing but you’re not a stylist. Still you stepped in and calmly, diligently you made it whole again.

You probably don't know but you did the same thing to me. Only, of course, you undid me as well.

The decorations on top of that stupid jacket broke, just after we were finished but you didn’t mind. Namjoon showed it to you and you laughed. That was the first time I ever saw you happy. You said that it has fulfilled its duty and there’s no reason to worry anymore — it was all fine. 

You never knew it but as I watched you from the sidelines I thought what if I would join you, offer a joke, make your smile last longer. I really wanted to but…

…but I didn’t. I wasn’t blind — you found it hard to fit and I didn’t want to intrude. You didn’t seem to enjoy my presence and if some people would see me with you, they’d give you a hard time and I didn’t want to burden you. You were just blooming open, my touch no matter how well-intended would just damage your petals so I didn’t. I packed up my things and I walked past you without saying anything. 

What if I had? Would you have stayed then? Or would you have left all the same? Neither of us know the answer. 

I don’t hate you, I’m sorry for writing so in the last letter. I didn’t mean it. I would never mean it. All I can hope for now is that you’re happy wherever you are.

Sincerely apologetic, 

Jeon Jungkook. 

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: april again

Hello! 

It’s April and you know what that means, I get saddled with a new tutor yey (⋟﹏⋞) It’s strictly formal now and honestly kind of boring. I know you weren’t really my tutor back in the day, just helping me on the side hehe but I still appreciate you. It was also April then, April 28th, that we finally spoke like two human beings. Your voice was so tired but you seemed curious—

Jungkook lifted his head from the laptop of his home, suddenly feeling the betraying sting bite at the bottom of his eyes. 

“Don’t cry!” he scolded himself. “What’s the use of crying now that everything's done?”

Sensing his owner’s distress, Bam cautiously approached the crouched man and pressed his nose into Jungkook’s shin. He stared down at the dog, surprise in his expression hinting at the fact that for a second he’d forgotten Bam existed. For a second he was back with you. 

April 28th

“What are you doing?” the voice sounding near him was quiet. Somewhat curious but even more so perturbed. Jungkook detached himself from the table he’d slouched upon in the throes of his utter defeat. 

Seeing you though, the sleepy disquiet within him frayed and he swallowed nervously, trying his hardest to appear at complete ease. 

“Regretting life choices,” he groaned conversationally. “You?” 

“Just getting a soda,” you tossed your head towards the vending machine. It had an indent at the side. Rumour had it that one night Jin kicked it because he didn’t have enough money on him to buy a candy bar. It was, of course, just a rumour and Junkook knew it because he was the one who kicked the machine. 

He did sort of feel bad about it but he had been hungry. 

“Nothing nearly as dramatic.”

An awkward quiet settled between them. What are you thinking, Jungkook thought. He noticed the way your eyes lingered on him, a touch too long to be absolutely casual, and then quickly averted away as your lips pursed into a straight line, almost like you were reprimanding yourself. 

Maybe because you were prohibited from talking to him? It wouldn’t be the first time such an order took place as much as Jungkook hated it. 

“Do you need help?” your voice had been low, so deadpan he entirely missed that you’d spoken at all but when the realization hit, he had to force himself to not be too happy.

“It’d be nice if you did,” he gave a small smile, shuffling to make space for you on the couch. You stared at the newly liberated spot for a second but ultimately sat down if a bit stiffly. 

Peering into his notebook, you asked him:

“What do you have to do?” 

“Answer these questions using 10 words or less.”

You leaned your head to the side and as he took the next, shuddering breath, the scent of your shampoo filled him whole. It fit you like a glove. Immediately, he wanted more of it. 

“That’s a strange exercise,” you muttered and as Jungkook’s throat grew dry, he only shrugged in response. You’d given him details, solid answers and explanations but he still failed miserably. He hadn’t heard a thing you said over the sound of his heart rushing. 

Only the wet cold of Bam’s nose roused him from the memory. With a sad smile, he patted the dog’s head, feeling suddenly guilty to be looked at with such adoring eyes. 

“Good boy,” he whispered as Bam’s tail thwacked against the floor of his empty and quiet apartment. “Good boy, Bam.”

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: what’s next

Hello!

Have you been eating well? Have you been meeting up with friends? I remember you told me once, probably thinking I’ll forget it, that they’ve been missing you and you’ve been missing them. I didn’t forget — I remember. I hope you’ve gone out with them and that your cheeks glow the way they do when you’re really, really happy. I haven’t forgotten that either. I don’t want to. 

I…uh…I’ve stopped crying. I don’t why that’s so awkward to say, I mean you’re not even here. If anything I’m talking to myself. It’s a bit sad, isn’t it hehe. Don’t judge me, please.

Anyways I’ve stopped tearing up at random times. Now I’m just…I don’t know — numb? Unmotivated? In those few rare free days I don’t do much — just lie in my bed. I don’t have the strength to get out of it. Though some days it’s not so bad — I’m almost the way I was before. I go out, I eat ice-cream, take Bam out for good long walks — it’s almost normal but then inevitably I crash and I don’t want to move or go anywhere, or even speak with anyone. 

In fact, for the last week this is the most speaking I’ve done — writing this to you. I don’t why I keep it up but it helps. I myself don’t quite understand haha. I hope that tomorrow it’ll be a good day. My house has been a mess, my hair is kind of dirty and I think Bam is getting antsy cramped inside for extended periods of time. I have been declining my mom’s calls cause I don’t want to hear me like this. She’ll only worry and it’ll make the whole situation worse. I need to move but today I’ve sat here all day and thought of you. 

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: why?

wh do i =kep writinng to u? u;re nhot here whats the point?? whats the goodammn point> 

jimin found ou t about the leterc 

he didnt saay nuthign but the way he lookred at me…

pity

is ti a crime?????? to lvoe someone?? to want to tlak to them?? everyien else is lucjkf they cqan talk to thei r loved cnes but em?? im aloen so yesh i write yo you!! i wan t to be delusionalf i dont care fwha anyer says! youre my friend!  iw ill talk to you aven if tis patheti c even if tish thoguht lettters youll nevar read! i dont caare1

jminn thiggks im crayz

an I? 

have u maed me crazy?

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: I’m sorry

So…I got really drunk yesterday  (≡ε≡；) I can hold my liquor, don't get me wrong, but Jiminie drinks like he’s got a new liver lined up °՞(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞° But reading it over this morning (barely, my eyes are swollen) I recalled the fight that we had and that I never did apologize. I’m sorry that I took my anger out on you that one time. I should have said sorry already then. I didn’t but I was. Still am. 

May, 22nd

“You were supposed to go home hours ago.”

By now, he was well familiar with the voice and its disinterested tembre. You always sounded so…bored and for some reason today of all days Jungkook got pissed off because of it. 

You were always…looking down at him. Just like the others. You were judging him, weren’t you? Why else were you so distant? Why else did your face not change expressions as he got near you? You couldn’t stand him. You could see what he was behind the carefully curated smokescreen of what Jeon Jungkook was supposed to be. You saw him. Those weary, disturbingly observant eyes drilled right through what was supposed to be a charming, yet impenetrable wall. He didn’t truly know anyone and no one was supposed to truly know him. Yet in front of you he suddenly found himself bare.

“Why? Because you say so?” he spat from where he’d fallen on the floor. His ankle had given out and one point and when you came in he was panting from the pain. Of course, you’d see him in such a humiliating state. 

You blinked mutely at his sudden harshness. You weren’t friends, you weren’t allowed to be friends but still the relationship was amicable. For coworkers. Barely.

“You’re upset,” flatly you stated, one hand gripping the door handle far too tightly. 

“Yeah, no shit,” he grumbled. Why were you looking at him like that? Like you saw him?! Who even were you?!

“You’re upset but  that’s no reason for you to talk to me like this.”

As cold as a bucket of winter river. Your voice washed over him and Jungkook found himself not an injured wolf baring his teeth and protecting his den but a puppy, sopping wet and scrambling uselessly against the palm that had seized him by the scruff. 

“I’m a grown man.”

“Not right now.” 

You both came to standstill, glaring obstinately at each other. 

It had been the longest eye-contact Jungkook had with you. Shame it was out of anger. 

You drew an exhausted sigh as Jungkook brittled.  

“I understand you’re in pain and wanting perfection but be nicer to yourself.”

He scoffed harshly. 

“I don’t need your pity.”

Something in your gaze grew utterly frigid and all at once he was rendered deeply afraid. 

“And I’m not offering it to you.”

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: I’m sorry

So…I got really drunk yesterday  (≡ε≡；) I can hold my liquor but Jiminie drinks like he’s got a new liver lined up °՞(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞° Reading over that garbage this morning (barely, my eyes are swollen) I recalled the fight that we had and that I never did apologize. I’m sorry that I took my anger out on you that one time. I should have said sorry already then. I didn’t but I was. Still am.

For these last few days I keep thinking about what you said afterwards — when I finally mustered up the courage to grovel three days later. That I’m not someone you would pity and that I need not to apologize just change. You were so different then. You were strong. Stern. You didn’t take any of my shit and for that — thank you. I don’t know why but it made me love you more. 

Huh. I just said it. 

It’s kind of sad that you’ll never hear it.

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: catching up! :D

HELLO!

It’s been two whole weeks since I last wrote to  you. We’ve been so busy, I’ve barely had the time to sit down >⌓<｡

How are you? How is life back home? Did you meet up with those friends of yours? Did you find a new job? Did you find someone…new?

Maybe don’t tell me that last one haha

I’ve been…good. It’s a surprise really. I don’t miss you any less than I did yesterday or I will tomorrow but there’s not that horridly heavy sense in my chest today. I don’t know what happened in the moments before I wrote to you last and now. Maybe because I remembered how miserable you were here. You ate alone, no one really spoke to you. They liked you! They really did! I just guess…it’s too different here. It couldn’t have been easy to always think about what to say, how to say it and how people will perceive you. I pondered how I feel when overseas and I…I understand now why you were so closed off. You must have been protecting yourself, weren’t you? Like I was that day when my ankle was twisted. 

Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful that you came here at all, that we met but…I don’t want you here at the cost of your happiness. I think I’ve finally come to terms with that you left. Better you’re happy somewhere else, at your home with the people and things you know rather than you’re miserable here with me. I was not much of a help to you, wasn’t I? Always so scared of my own feelings and possibilities of future failings that I never even considered the present and how lonely you must have felt. I’m sorry that I wasn’t better for you.

I hope you’re among better people now. You deserve the world. 

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: something weird happened 

So as I said in the subject, something weird happened?? Do you remember Eun-joo? She came to the studio one day and you asked me whether she was my lover. I blushed so hard then (>\\\\\\<) I don’t even know why. Just hearing you say the word “lover” aaaah it sounded so scandalous hehehe I must be crazy

Anyway, back then I said no, well, I yelled it and your face scrunched up in that adorable way it does when you’re both surprised and confused but yesterday she…uh…asked me out? On a date? 

You never knew this but uhm…I kind of had a crush on her before you came along. I never asked her out because our schedules conflicted so much we barely spoke and I’ve always liked better to ask someone out in person, you know. And then well you arrived and uh…

I think you get it. 

But now you’re gone and I said yes to Eun-joo.  

Uh…was I allowed to do that? Why am I asking you? 「(°ヘ°)

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: hah 

So….I went on a date and uhm…

I rejected her. 

Well, somewhat. By the end of the evening, she was asking me about whom I was thinking about so much and well…it is true. I spent the entire night thinking about what you would have done, what you would have said instead of her. Unwittingly I found myself yearning not for her enthusiastic compliments but for your dry ass remarks. 

We’ve decided to stay as friends. 

I don’t think I’ll be dating anytime soon.

I’d say that I’m absolutely okay with you seeing someone but you know me — I’m jealous as all hell just thinking about it (￣ε￣)

Seoul in particular is the kind of city that never sleeps. Jungkook is once again made sure of that when he tries to sleep but cannot. Bam’s snores fill up the otherwise quiet room as he tosses to and fro. This last letter, about the deep clean,  is not giving him rest. He keeps recalling that rainy day in the park, not even wishing he’d done things differently but just wishing he could still see you. That this…hope, twisting around his neck like a noose, would end. If he would bear no hope he wouldn’t still dream, would he? He would be able to rest, wouldn’t he?

God, he needs to rest. He’s given you his mind and soul and if you were his sun, you could spare him at least some clarity. He didn’t care anymore — be it cold or cruel. He needed to be let go even if he probably won’t let you go himself. 

Jumping out the bed, he makes a quick beeline to the still running laptop. Bam rattles in his cage, disturbed by the sudden movement but his eyes fall too heavily to muster up a bark. Seconds later, he’s already slumbering. While Jungkook is wide awake, fingers clattering noisily against the keyboard.

June 16th

The small bottle of milk flowed just underneath his nose as heartless rain continued to pelt the ground below. Thick smell of petrichor swirled the air around. Stunned, Jungkook lifted his head and traced the hand that held the milk for him. 

Seeing you he gave a feeble smile. 

Of course you would be here when he thought he was alone. 

“How did you find me?” he rasped, accepting the bottle though not moving to puncture the small foliage. 

With a sigh, you settled on the swing next to his — it produced a horribly dragged out screech. 

“I didn’t,” you shrugged. “I just walked by and saw you.” 

“And just so happened to have my favourite brand of milk?” he arched an eyebrow and because the rain made his eyes blurry, he thought, he deluded himself for a second that you blushed. Blushed and darted your gaze guiltily away to settle upon the crowded Seoul horizon. 

“I’ve noticed you drinking it so I bought it…to try,” you coughed and silence fell upon the world. 

The day was hot, extremely humid, even the falling rain did not help in the matter. Why did he come here, to this empty park on the far side of the city Jungkook did not know. Could it be….no, that was impossible. Nothing so childishly romantic could not take root in a cruel, unforgiving reality. 

“You’re feeling down again?” you inquired, swinging back and forth, the plastic bag swinging next to  you. He wondered what you bought, what you ate to feel good and full. 

“Yeah, just a bit,” he lied, scuffing the soles of his shoes against the ground. 

“A bit,” you repeated in a barely audible mutter. “Are you sure it’s a bit?”

“Do you think I’m lying?” 

But despite the shortness of time, Jungkook had changed. His voice held neither malice, nor challenge. In fact the irony was all but obvious in the lilt of his tone. He was lying and you knew that he was. 

“Yes,” easily, you replied, pulling a snort of amusement from the depths of his chest. “You’re mostly a terrible liar but also surprisingly good when it comes to hiding yourself.”

“And are you?” Jungkook asked, daring for the first time to take a proper look at you. It was so…difficult. For him it was like staring at the sun. It was oftentimes easier to not look lest he dreamt too much. “Are you a good liar?”

You stared at the ground, closing your eyes for a brief second of what seemed to be utter heartbreak. 

“I’m an excellent liar,” you murmured. When you opened your eyes once more, the bout of sudden vulnerability was gone. You shuck it off like dogs did water and once again Jungkook sat absolutely mesmerized at how you were able to do it. 

“But it can’t be helped,” you concluded firmly. 

“Why are you an excellent liar?” Jungkook teased you further, feeling the beat of his heart stumble and clamber. Maybe…

“I’m in love with someone but…it’s not reciprocated,” you swung back and forth, purposefully avoiding his gaze. 

The excited dash of his heart came crashing down, punching up arid bile at the back of Jungkook’s throat. In love with another, huh. 

“Why do you think it’s not reciprocated?” gently, he questioned, gripping the milk between his trembling fingers.  

“It just can’t be,” you refuted stubbornly. “I think he sees me in the same way people do…desks. Or notebooks.”

“Notebooks?” 

“Yeah, you know,” you pursed your lips and the sheer amount of grief that passed your features made Jungkook sick. Whoever this son of a bitch was that made you this said deserved a motorbike in the face.  “People can genuinely like their stuff until they’re in good use but once that use runs out,” you sucked a breath through your gritted teeth. “They replace it and forget all about them in the end. It’s that sort of like.”

“That smooth-brained son of a bitch,” he cried out angrily. “Damn, I should beat that foul smelling dickwad to the last inch of his life. How dare he treat our fairy like that?!”

Tearily you laughed and more than anything Jungkook wanted to hold your hand and lull the pain. But he couldn’t. He had no place in your life. Not really. So he held the milk instead — the bottle popping up from the pressure underneath his palm. 

Dumbly, you both looked as it leaked down onto the ground. 

“Smooth-brained,” you chuckled to yourself. “Perhaps. But he smells nice.”

Jungkook tried not to sulk at this new piece of information. Too many nice-smelling but dumb people rolled around the circles of his acquaintances  — he couldn’t track the son of a bitch down even if he tried. He had no idea how lucky he was. Jungkook’s sun was giving him warmth and he dared not to care for it. 

“What’s got you looking so dour yourself?” 

“Oh,” he swallowed nervously, his gaze rapidly growing so hazy, even when staying still, he could swear the world was trembling. “I like someone myself. They’re kind to me, strict albeit kind, however…” he sat, transfixed somberly on the ground. One glimpse at you and he’d break. One glimpse and he’d force this ocean of his feelings upon you. He’d make you feel bad — it was always awkward to hear a love confession from someone whom you did not like. So he had to be strong. Had to be strong for you, as strange as it sounded. “I’m not good enough for them.”

“That’s nonsense,” you scoffed, beginning to swing back and forth. The ends of your shoes grew wet as briefly you found yourself amidst the rain. 

“I meant me, just Jeon Jungkook, is not good enough,” he clarified with an eye roll. “I didn’t mean Jungkook the idol.”

“Neither did I."

The rain kept pouring the entire afternoon and it was one of the happiest days Jungkook had ever lived through. 

Shame you left soon after. 

to: 17780_specialhelp@navercorp.com

subject: please

Even if...even if the year we spent together meant nothing to you, that the kindness you extended towards me, that the help you sent my way unknowingly pulling me from a pit of inescapable darkness is nothing but an empty void, no more deserving of your attention than the dirt on the side of the road, I beg of you to be gracious once more. Just write to me. Just one letter is all I ask for. No matter what you have to say, should it be something as little as one singular "bye", please, write to me. I'll keep you in my thoughts, forever most likely as you've made your home in them.

Sincerely, 

Jeon Jungkook.

tagging: @pinkcherrybombs; @devilsbooksworld; @btsiguess-kpop; @belladaises; @halesandy; @seok-jinnies; @themochiverse; @cuteipat; @ratherbefangirling; @manchuria; @chimchimmarie; @smalliechelle; @koostarcandy; @flitzerj; @royallyjjk; @dreamamubarak; @anti-social-mochi267; @jung-nika-hoseok; @silverliningsandstorms;

 © soraviie, 2023

[tallbluelady]

Your OC, Rowan, is alone in a supposedly haunted building or abandoned ruin.

Rowan had been in an odd mood since she overheard Y'shtola and Urianger's conversation about her aether. That Urianger was hiding aught from her but sought to court her... Well, the ruins surrounding Fannow had called to her to explore just then. Unfortunately, their so-called ally had to taunt her newly improving skills in magic after she cut her hand. She was certain he was left behind, but her skin was still crawling from meeting Emet-Selch. She was a bit surprised that Lahabrea hadn't caused as much irritation while he possessed Thancred, because she did remember Nabriales doing so. Mayhap the Ascians could cloak their aether when they possessed someone. I wonder what Urianger thinks about that...

She sighed at that thought. Despite the fact that he was lying to her, at least by omission, Rowan still felt drawn to Urianger. He sought to be her refuge during this time and with his mere presence and gentle words he was. And whenever he soothed the young Minfilia, Rowan felt her heart melt. There was plenty to want.

If you looked past the secrets.

She supposed there was an irony that the man she trusted the least was being the most forthright with information about the state of her soul. He created the Garlean Empire, and revels in it. Forthrightness means nothing in the face of that.

Rowan then tilted her head. There was a soft hum under the general cacophony of the forest. She pushed a curtain of vines and the hum got louder. She gasped when she saw a figure laid out on a bed of sorts. She tapped on a few tiles with her rapier first - though the weapon was expensive, it would be replaceable - and found nothing strange there. After giving the room a once over for any Ronkan Owls and finding none, she tossed a stone near the bed to see if the occupant would awaken before stepping closer to them. With the figure remaining immobile, Rowan approached.

Twas a male figure, with Viera - Viis, here - features and besides the lime green paint on his face, he was deathly, wickedly white. He was surrounded by dried flowers and small trinkets. Offerings?

"Dead, I hope. Poor bastard looks like he was on the brink of turning," Ardbert said, appearing next to Rowan.

"Tis almost as if someone put him in stasis to prevent that from happening..." she murmured, thinking back to Alexander. She pulled back her hand at that thought.

"Scared to touch the dead, hero?" Emet-Selch drawled from the doorway.

Rowan saw Ardbert give a snarl that she wanted to give the Ascian. She rolled her eyes. "I'm using an onze of caution, Ascian. There could be any number of enchantments on the figure. I only have my one body to inhabit, and I intend to keep it whole."

Emet-Selch raised an eyebrow and sauntered closer. Rowan felt her hackles raise and maneuvered so that he wasn't blocking the doorway. "From what you're doing with the Lightwardens, I'd say that you're doing a rather poor job of it. Or are you saving yourself to be a proper sacrifice?"

"What else is there to be done? I don't see you taking upon the Lightwarden's aether, though mayhap it would do you some good to struggle."

"The defeat of the Lightwardens and the salvation of this world is your trial, hero. I may offer aid, but the heavy lifting is left to you and yours. If you cannot solve that problem on your own, then what use are you to solving mine?"

"I suppose you'll have your way no matter the outcome. You either get a reliable ally, or this shard collapses into a proper calamity." Rowan shook her head. "Anyroad, I've enough of you for the day. I'll return to the others so you don't feel so comfortable bothering me. After I've paid my respects."

With that, she knelt at the dais of the figure and placed a few pressed blossoms she kept in her pack. Though it never felt as if it was enough, she whispered a silent prayer to whatever gods the Viis had in life. Then she felt the rush of an Echo vision.

*   *   *

This wasn't a typical vision, Rowan realized, as she felt she had control of herself. The Viis man tilted his head, studying her. He had dark mahogany skin and black hair in life. And green eyes that matched his face paint.

"Why do you feel so familiar?" he asked in the accent of the Fannow villagers.

Rowan shrugged. "I'm close to you in the waking world."

The man's ears twitched. "There's another familiar presence... and then a putrid one."

"Aye, that would describe my companions at the moment... But who are you? Are you still alive?" Rowan asked.

"They called me Moth Orchid when I was still walking. Though my soul hasn't returned to the lifestream, I can't claim to be one of the living."

She gave a sad hum and shook her head.

"I'll have to release you from this state - you can't be safe with Emet-Selch nearby."

"How do you know it's him?" she asked.

"I met him! A lover of mine became infatuated with him and his secrets. But he cannot be trusted. Even if he says that he wants to work with you, it's... it's not truly you he wants. It's a ghost, a shade he seeks."

Rowan nodded. "Thank you for the clarity. I need every clue I can get to deal with him."

Moth Orchid nodded back. "Anything for a fellow adventurer, Rowan. Were there a way to do aught more than just warn you... though mayhap..."

He reached out his hand and Rowan mirrored him. There was a warmth, then another rush.

*   *   *

Rowan gasped as the world fell back into place. She was still kneeling at the dais but Moth Orchid's body was gone. A whirl of wind floated the flowers and dust, catching on the shafts of light that peeked through the ceiling of the chamber. One of her pressed blossoms settled neatly on her hand, almost as if Moth Orchid placed it there himself.

She turned, and found Ardbert was still kneeling next to her.

"Emet-Selch left as soon as you started praying. Almost as if he couldn't stand your sincerity for the moment."

"Did... did you know who that was?" Rowan asked, motioning to the empty dais.

He shook his head. "I don't think I ever saw him before the flood. And I would remember if I saw him in my listless wanderings."

"His name was Moth Orchid. He was an adventurer like you and me."

"Was he now? Just proves how harrowing this job is. As if my presence wasn't enough."

Rowan shrugged and gathered her possessions. Taking stock of herself, she felt much more at ease. What ever Moth Orchid was able to give would see her to the next step, at the very least.

She never even worried that he knew her name.

[jokertrap-ran]

[Kuroshitsuji Collab] 6★ William T. Spears (SUN) Translation SS 特別編 規定違反者には制裁を Secret Story: For Those Who Violate the Rules, Punishment

“Heading to Gartina in search of clues with him…”

CV: ���山 紀彰 (Sugiyama Noriaki)

*Yume100 Masterlist *Requested by A. Carina Spears~ *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Name will remain as my normal ( ラン ) *T/N: And this wraps up William's Yume 100 x Black Butler Collab story!!!

Sun Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Final Chapter / Secret Story Normal / Moon + SS

The sun shone down upon the street, making the red gems that decorated the area sparkle lustrously beneath the light.

Today, William and I were out once more in search of leads that would help bring him home…

We'd been to Saphinia to broaden the scope of our investigations, and now, our next stop was none other than Gartina.

━━━━━━━∘◦ ✰ ◦∘━━━━━━━  

William: Let's split up here to increase our efficiency.

━━━━━━━∘◦ ✰ ◦∘━━━━━━━  

(Now that we've split up, I wonder if William’s investigation is going smoothly…)

The thought clamored in my head as I walked the city for a while. Until…

??: Ow! Stop it! Wait, nooo- don't stop~!!!

I heard something that sounded vaguely like a scream as I passed by a jewelry store.

(What's going on here…?)

━━━━━━━∘◦ ✰ ◦∘━━━━━━━  

Unable to help my curiosity, I poked my head into the store, only to stop short. My eyes widened at the sight.

There was a red-haired man crouched on all fours on the ground in the middle of the shop.

(That's…)

And the man that had his foot on him had an ever so familiar poker face… It was none other than William, himself. 

Ran: …William-san!?

William: You are neglecting your duties. There are still countless souls out there waiting to be collected. And yet, why are you here, fooling around?

Not noticing me, William continued mercilessly trampling the red-haired man.

(Should I… step in…?)

However, it appeared that I was worried for nothing as a blush adorned the red-haired man’s cheeks.

??: Ahhh, that gaze that's colder than an iceberg, and an attack that's way more ruthless than a dream eater…!

??: Yes! This is great! My body is burning up!!!

William: …

The sound of William kicking the red-haired man echoed throughout the store.

Unable to cut in or intervene, I simply stood there, staring at them in a daze.

And soon enough…

William: You.

William looked up from the man on the ground who'd passed out with a happy look on his face.

I reflexively straightened up as he addressed me.

William: What are you looking at? Is the investigation proceeding smoothly?

Ran: Err, is… is that guy…

I looked at the red-haired man on the ground. William cast another terrifyingly icy glare at him.

William: He's just a worthless dispatch agent who cannot even do his job right.   Ran: Is he… alright?

Fearing that he might retaliate, I voiced my question rather meekly. His glasses glinted sharply in the light.

William: No mercy will be shown to those who violate the rules. I must return to my world as soon as possible, for I have souls to collect.

He responded calmly, pushing the bridge of his glasses up once more.

(I feel a little bad for the guy…)

Just as I looked back up at William who was already briskly walking away from the scene…

??: Wait a minute, Will!

The red-haired man suddenly raised his head, glaring at me with a terrifyingly venomous expression.

??: Who IS this WOMAN!? You already have me, yet you… How crue-

Yet, William had already stomped down hard on the back of his head once more before he could even finish his sentence.

??: Urk-!!!

Ran: Oh…

The red-haired man’s head had hit the ground so hard that it was half-buried in the tiles.

However, William seemed unfazed by the fact as he turned to me with an air of utter calmness.

William: You've just wasted 3 minutes and 51 seconds.   Ran: Right… I'll get back to investigating.

I'd somehow managed to form words despite the slight fear taking shape within me.

William: Good grief. If this carries on, I won't be able to get off work on time today either.

He breathed a small sigh before curtly leaving the shop.

I glanced at the red-haired man on the floor. He looked blissed out…

(Just what is their relationship with each other…?)

Although slightly reluctant to do so, I quickly sprinted after the back of William's straight and dignified figure…

The END

[hell-of-blazing-fires]

Look at this pouty ass Akyuu right now

[The tiles that I cannot cut are next to none CH 19]

[sannyo-appreciation-posts]

[moonlight-eternal]

[A video is attached.]

[The video is filmed from a camera attached to Gwyndolin's mask, as usual. She moves toward the gym, which still appears as a normal house like any other in Anistar City, and opens the door. The inside also looks like a standard living space, with a carpet in the middle of the floor. A gym attendant looks up at her entrance.]

Welcome! Your arrival was anticipated, challenger Gwyndolin. Gym Leader Olympia awaits on the battlefield. Simply step onto the center of the carpet to–

[At the corner of the room, Olympia herself appears suddenly in a shower of sparkles like tiny stars. She has her cloak pulled tightly around her and fastened, showing only the mirrored silver exterior.]

Olympia? What– I'm sorry, ma'am, I... didn't anticipate this.

You are here at last. [Olympia takes a step closer and examines Gwyndolin.] I can see at just a glance: none of it is true.

None of what?

You have seen the stares. You have heard the whispers spread. I can tell you why.

Stand on the carpet. It will take you to the gym. There I will tell all.

[Olympia walks onto the middle of the carpet, and vanishes the same way she had appeared.]

But we are already in the gym... another part, then. An interesting concept, this region ensorcelled with teleportation bound into a glyph. I will remember that for personal use, once I return home. For right now... I prefer the certainty of mine own magic.

[Gwyndolin points her catalyst at the warp tile for a few seconds and a very faint golden glow swirls around the end of it. That light fades, and she then waves the catalyst in a simple pattern that ends with holding it vertically in front of her chest, as two concentric circles of golden light appear in front of her, with runes set between them. The camera's viewpoint defocuses in a rapid slide until nothing at all can be seen, then blinks back all at once to a new scene.]

[Gwyndolin and Olympia now stand next to each other on a walkway over the gym battlefield, with the entire building now visible as a large domed structure with the interior painted with stars. Olympia walks slightly ahead down the path, only sometimes looking back as she speaks.]

A stranger passed by through Anistar days ago. They said, trust you not.

I cannot recall any more than words of theirs. Their face, lost to me.

I know the one of whom thou speakest. We Fell from the same world, though I do not know their name, nor why they mean me harm. It is dreadfully difficult to hold a memory of this person in one's thoughts, for they slip away so easily – however, a camera doth capture their image like any other. I can show thee what I have recorded, incidentally only, for one cannot focus one's attention upon them.

Later, yes, you should. I am curious to see. Or see again, for them.

You say this stranger did spread rumors, anticipating mine arrival here? To hinder me, no doubt, and slow the pursuit of justice after they did threaten me in Snowbelle. And then they maketh themself forgotten, and all do repeat what they have heard, knowing no longer that the source was one untrustworthy.

The endless problem, and not one that can be solved. It is good you're here.

We can speak further once a badge is in your hand. Shall we battle now?

I would enjoy that. This will be my third so far. Let the fight begin!

[While Olympia walks ahead to another warp tile, Gwyndolin raises her catalyst again and teleports down to one side of the battlefield. She looks up, finding Olympia still traversing the walkways above, then reaches up to take the camera off of her mask. The view briefly points at the floor before abruptly cutting off.]

[Video ends.]

[studentofetherium]

[recklessfiction]

You've never seen a royal court, not outside of classical art but that certainly does no justice to what you witness as you step through the immense doors of the palace foyer.

Oh, what the Syndicate wouldn't give to see this.

Lords and ladies, insofar as you could describe them, with their vibrant robes and ornamented faces, dot the grand hall. They sit closely together filling the room with booming laughter and a constant buzz of poorly hushed gossip. Along the walls, couriers stand in waiting, decanters filled with gold and black liquids and meats sculpted into spirals balance on trays and you wonder if perhaps those are natural shapes.

It is the centre of the room which draws your eye, though. An immense throne, round and polished white like a hollowed out pearl. You squint, looking closer before recoiling. Sculpted into it, shaping the rounded edges are a mass of stone figures, each reaching desperately around the edge of the curved throne for the figure sitting within. Its a wanton, cloying thing and you try to imagine what kind of person would willingly seat themselves within it.

You don't have to wonder long as eyes meet you from across the room. Eyes that would feel more at home on a goat. You reach behind you and pull the hood of your jacket up over your face.

"Child," a voice calls out and there is a sudden silence.

You feel your heart sink into your stomach at the sound of it. Its like nothing you've ever heard before, a multitude of voices as one, some deep and guttural and others lilting and sweet. It echoes in your ears.

"Child," it repeats, "Where have you been? And what, pray, have you brought me?"

On either side of you, the Lordling and the Knight bow low and from behind you, you hear as the rest of the retinue follows suit. Unsure, frightened, overwhelmed, you jerk into a short bow yourself, if only to look away from that face.

"Mother," the Lordling begins, "I had told you of the one who saved me from the acolytes of Proportion. Well, I have found them!"

All eyes in the hall are suddenly on you, curious and heated. The irritated grunt of the Knight brings you some comfort but you keep your hood lowered, unwilling to look out over the court, and no doubt, over what must be the Matriarch.

"Have you indeed?" she asks and you hear a creaking sound followed by a rush of whispers, "A most powerful priest, no doubt?"

"W-well," the Lordling's voice is hesitant, but again, that layered voice speaks.

"Come forward, solemn one, and we shall see whose hand you serve under."

More creaking and the whispers grow louder. None too gently, you are pushed forward and your feet begin to move beneath you. You glance up from beneath your hood and your breath stops.

The...thing, the Matriarch is uncoiling herself from within the chair, unfurling like a flower, only as she unfolds, you suddenly see just how immense she is. There is no shape to her, only a mass of vibrant feathers and opalescent hair that touches the floor. She...shouldn't be able to fit in that chair, she shouldn't be able to and she's still coming out. You feel sick.

Finally, your feet bring you to her and there is a sudden, explosive scent of incense which threatens to knock you wholly on your ass. You blink and look up, up, up, into a small, serene face set like a mask into the mass of hair, feathers, and jewellery.

"Such a strange thing," she hums, and her, hair and feathers twist and coil, reaching out towards you, tipping your hood back, "Now, who has claim over you?"

Your breath is coming in short, sharp bursts now but in the shadow of this incomprehensible Queen, you cannot find it in yourself to move. The tendril inches closer before just brushing your forehead.

And the world collapses around you.

You hear laughter, shrill and manic. You hear screaming, horrified, desperate, and growing ever closer. Where you are now is dark but there are flashes; faces appearing so close to your own that you fall back, but still they come.

You see them now, some enormous, necks curling and coiling down to stare. Others are your size, and your eyes catch on one with twelve pristine porcelain faces and a crown for each. Some sing gently in your ears, a song that, while you don't understand it, brings a blush to your cheeks while some carry weapons which they use to hack at the flesh of the others.

Blood splatters across your face as they cut their way towards you, but it doesn't seem to truly do any harm, since it seems you are being closed in from all sides. The singing, the laughter, the screaming begins to crescendo and you feel hands on you, pulling, tugging, ripping you closer.

Priest, they chant, Priest, Priest, Servant, Summoner. Tie yourself. Tie yourself, Tie yourself to me. To me, to me, to me!

You scream.

And find yourself back in the hall.

The world is silent save for the sound of you heaving on the polished floor. Your arms are shaking and you still feel the hot blood on your face. You let yourself curl up, your forehead resting against the cool tile. From above you, you hear the familiar creaking of the Matriarch as she moves back to her terrible throne.

"You are untethered," she says, "And yet much desired, it would seem. How strange, and yet how excellent you must be, for our gods to offer themselves to you."

You feel hands on your shoulders and you are pulled to your feet. The Lordling is at your side, eyes wide and expression mildly horrified.

"You are welcome, of course," the Matriarch continues, "in this place. It is we who are most blessed by your arrival."

You can't speak. You don't even try. You can only lean on the Lordling as they bow, leading you quickly out of the hall. You feel watched, and indeed, all eyes follow you as you go, some terrified, others glinting with hunger. But no, you feel something else. Eyes like a weight on your shoulders, in your mind.

The gods have seen you now. And they continue watching.

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[chireikiden]

The final chapter. The end of mahjong as we know it. MangaDex.

[minniepetals]

heartbeat

— summary: running away from your master is never easy so you deem yourself this will be the last time if you are fatefully brought back to his hold again. so what happens when you stumble upon seven men who says they won’t bring you back? what happens when they promise you their love and care instead?

— pairing: bts x reader

— genre: angst, fluff, hybrid!reader, rich!bts

— word count: 9.7k

— warnings: mentions of abuse, running away from an abusive household, hybrid cruelty, hurt and comfort

— rec music: bts - heartbeat

Soaked and damped, your hair wet with a sweet smell of cherry blossom fragrance as the pretty tiny bubbles surround you. In the room the lights are bright and you feel a little shy as you sit inside the pretty porcelain bathtub while his fingers run through your hair in a gentle manner.

You have never felt this kind of touch before. It's so sweet and gentle and just...kind.

Oh so kind. 

You purr when he scratch along your kitten ears and Jimin chuckles lightly as he goes on, cleaning the area around it.

"It's a little torn," he frowns at the sight, fingers careful not to brush around it so that he doesn't inflict more pain. He's sure you've been through enough. He knows you've been through enough. "Does your neck hurt when you move around?" He asks gently, noting at the gash that circles it. You have cuts and bruises almost everywhere and something about that makes his stomach drop while his heart yearns for you.

"It does," you say in a small voice so sweet and careful. He doesn't know why anyone would ever want to hurt such a poor little thing.

"Where else does it hurt?"

Your old bandages were thrown in the trash, left discarded for you to never see and be reminded of the sad memories again. They weren't fixed up in the greatest way but what else could you do? You had no experience with those things, he can tell.

"It's okay, everything else are just scratches," you tell him and Jimin pats you gently on the head.

"You don't have to worry about asking too much, dear one, we're all here to help." You turn yourself slightly to meet his gentle eyes with your own that are painful and yearning for love and care. His heart hurts a bit at the sight so he reaches for your hand through the wet bubbles. "If it hurts, tell us. You won't be bothering anyone."

Your lips form into a small pout, eyes a little confused at his kind gesture. "But...my last master always told me I should never ask for help."

Jimin frowns. "No baby, it won't be like that anymore I promise you."

"It...won't?" You tilt your head just a little because it'll hurt the gash around your neck so he goes to hold your head and allow it to return to its original position. "You won't..bring me back?"

"Oh dear, of course not."

"R-really?" You're almost afraid, too afraid that if you let yourself trust in his kindness, it will backfire on you. What if he's lying? What if he becomes tired of you? What if he comes to find you annoying and brings you back? What will be the consequences then?

You're too afraid to think of the punishments that will happen. You're sure it's something way beyond your own imagination. What if this time when you return, you really won't ever see the light ever again? What if he starves you for weeks? Months? What if he hurts you even more? Or worse, what if he leaves you to...to die?

"This..." you hesitate and he sees the tears already swimming in your eyes. Your fingers hold onto the edge of the bathtub, gripping against it tightly, while your eyes cast away from him and towards the tiles of the bathroom floor. "This isn't the first time."

"No?" You shake your head and had forgotten about the pain on your neck so it hurts you and Jimin lets out a little gasp. "Careful sweetie, you're still in pain."

"I..I-I'm scared." Maybe you shouldn't have told a human this but what difference would it make? He knows anyway just by your tears alone. "I'm so scared."

"We won't bring you back, love," Jimin promises you as he lightly runs his forefinger along your jawline until it reaches your chin. "We won't bring you to the shelter or anywhere you wouldn't want." He carefully allows himself to tilt your head up. Carefully. Because he doesn't want to put you through any more pain. Your skin is soft and wet from the bath, the bubbles covering your shoulders and down so that he cannot see anything else below it but your collarbone peeks out just slightly. It's soft and pink.

Just like those pretty lips of yours. It's glossy. Pink and glossy and looks oh so sweet.

"We'll even keep you safe in here if you want to stay."

You blink for a second. "You'll let me stay?"

"Of course," he hums.

"Even if it means..." your cheeks blush as you bite your lower lip, small figure shrinking for a moment. "Even if it means..forever?"

Jimin smiles and you think it's just a kind gesture he's showing you to show appreciation for the fact that you wish to stay but that his answer would be no. They're always no's. A soft smile before whispering the reluctant reply and you're left to fear for where you will go.

A shelter, a pound.

Either way, you find yourself back in your owner's home and he rewards you with severe punishments. It is never fun but perhaps this is your destiny. If Jimin says no then you will give up. This will be your last run. You won't run away anymore even if it means you will never receive hope and kindness because it lasts for just a little while.

These kind gestures are sweet but the more you have it, the more you understand that it can never last forever. They never do. Because the next thing you know, you're waking up and returning to that dreaded mansion.

"Yes baby."

You stop breathing. You stop breathing.

"Even if it means forever."

You don't know why but those words itself hurts you even more than when the humans that have told you no.

"I'm not..I-I'm not always a good girl," you tell him.

"None of us are," he replies.

"I'm a mess."

He hums. "Me too."

"I'll always be seeking for attention. Loud noises frighten me. I-I get scared very easily. I can be a brat. There are so many things I wish to do and wish to wear. I-I'm not a good person. I'm very selfish."

"Oh baby," he pouts, "are you trying to convince me otherwise? Because it isn't working, you know."

Your brows knit slightly. "It isn't?" Why not? It always worked, so why doesn't it work on him?

"Not one bit," he shakes his head.

"Even so," you look away again, "what about your..friends?"

"Them?" Jimin chuckles. "I'm sure they'd love it if you stayed with us. Taehyungie and Jungkookie really loves little kittens. We've always wanted to get ourselves a hybrid but never got around to it so this must be fate."

"..fate," you whisper.

You think you like this word.

"Mhm. So don't worry about it, okay?"

"But..." you squeeze the bathtub again, hands trembling. "He...he'll come looking for me," you say. "He always does."

He.

Jimin frowns and takes your hands into his. "Baby look at me." You do as he asks and he gives you a determined gaze. "No matter what happens, I promise you we will keep you safe."

"Even if he offers you a ton of money?"

"He's not the only rich resident living on Earth." Ah. You can tell Jimin is rich. After all, this bathroom is anything beyond what you can ever afford. You're sure that even his shirt alone is more expensive than an average human's apartment. "And even if any of us weren't so well off, we still wouldn't fall for such a sick joke. Your life is worth so much more than anything money can offer, baby, value yourself more."

Jimin is so kind you almost forget that this is your first meeting and he doesn't know you so much yet. But he's so willing to keep you safe that it makes you want to cry.

"It's illegal to keep me without owning me," you say.

"Seokjin's a powerful lawyer, baby, he can defend your honor, and Namjoon's a prosecutor who'll go up against your owner if he has to," he tells you otherwise. "We'll fix this, baby, by law or not. He won't ever touch you ever again."

"A-are you sure?" You ask him timidly. "What if you have to face consequences because of me?"

"It doesn't matter."

"You're willing to do this..." you press your lips together, thinking, and then meet his eyes again, "for me..?"

Jimin smiles. "For you." He runs his fingers through your hair again. It's dried a little from the air and by now he's sure you'll end up cold. "Now," he pets your head, "can you tell me your name, kitten?"

No one has really ever asked for your name. Your owner always called you by rude names sometimes you'd even forget you had a name. But you told yourself that if there is anything he can take away from you, it is that he will never be allowed to take your own name.

"..Y/N," you say. "My name is Y/N."

He kisses you gently on your forehead. A sweet, soft kiss.

"I'm Jimin."

.

.

Jimin helps to dry you up while Yoongi helps to clean around your cuts and gash and bandage you up.

You sit on the white tiles of the bathroom floor in just a simple piece of Jimin's grey button up shirt. It lays down to your thighs, covering you up well as you face Yoongi with your back in front of Jimin. Your fluffy tail sticks out from the shirt and it's a little too intimate, really, just sitting there in nothing but Jimin's shirt as the two men help clean you up.

But the blowdryer against your soft hair feels so soft it makes your head spin with bubbles and clouds and cherry blossoms you just want to fall asleep right then and there.

Jimin's fingers against your hair feels nice while Yoongi wraps a long bandage from your left wrist to your fingertips. He's already fixed up your neck and tummy, wrapping it with white bandage wraps. He just needs to do your right arm and your legs.

"Did you...fall of a tree?" the older man asks with a small frown.

"I.." you hesitate. "Mhm," you hum to confirm his fears.

Yoongi lays your left hand on your lap gently before moving on to your right side. "That must've hurt."

"It...it did," you admit. "It was scary. I-I fell asleep on the tree because I was scared someone would see me if I slept on the ground and woke up when I began to slip but it was too late to hold on then."

"You can't use your hands for a few days, okay?" Yoongi tells you. "And your legs aren't in the greatest condition either. We'll be taking care of you from now on so you don't have to worry about not being able to do things for yourself for a while." His voice is calm and steady. It's gentle yet demanding. A soft demand, something your master had never used. He's always been harsh and rude but the way Yoongi commands you makes you want to do it all. You don't dread his commands, you welcome it.

"You'll...be taking care of me..?" You ask him timidly.

Jimin presses a small kiss to your head at your question. "Of course, baby." Even though you've told him your name, he still opts to call you baby. You don't mind it, in fact, you like it. It's a pretty nickname and it makes you happy.

But you're still frightened to be happy because you know that happiness doesn't last for long when it comes to you, it never does no matter how much you wish for it.

As if sensing your fear, Yoongi looks you in the eyes and keeps it there as he place a small kiss against your knuckles.

"It's going to be okay, Y/N," he tells you. "Everything will be okay."

You aren't entirely sure yet. "How are you so sure?"

"Because we're here and you're here," he simply says. "Doesn't that already make things a little better?"

Not a little better, a lot better.

.

.

When you walk out of the bathroom, the maknae almost melts in sight.

You were pretty when they found you, broken pretty but pretty, and now here you are standing in their home with your body leaned slightly against Jimin for support. His shirt lays prettily against your frame, falling down to your thighs, with a fluffy tail swaying gently from side to side, and ears twitching a little at the sound of their feet padding your way. Jungkook wants to hold you and cuddle you but he knows that will be for another time when you're more comfortable.

There are bandages that hides your skin. One wrapped around your right ear, another around your neck. Two on both your wrists, hands, and fingers. Down your legs. He's sure you also have them hidden beneath Jimin's shirt and that itself makes him tear just slightly.

"How do you feel?" The maknae asks as he walks over carefully. When you don't flinch away and you allow him to run his hand gently against your head, Jungkook grins. "Are you hungry?" At the question, your stomach growls and he gifts you a sad smile. "We made food plenty for you to eat."

"I...um.." You bite your lip, eyes wavering with hesitation.

He reads your mind. "It's okay, you don't have to be afraid," he says and holds a hand out as a offer for you to take.

It's different from your last master. He doesn't hold his hand out, he just grabs you by the collar or hair and drags you about. You never have a choice on whether to go with him or not, he's always dragging you around.

So seeing this is different and it makes your heart confused because you really do want this, whatever it is, to last forever, but you're afraid of it being gone.

While a teardrop falls against your precious cheek, you allow yourself to live in this fantasy and place your hand over his palm.

Jungkook smiles at you. A sweet, sweet smile, and leads you into the kitchen.

"In this house, there are no rules," Seokjin tells you when he puts a bowl of porridge in front of you. Your mouth waters at the sight and smell. "Eat as much as you want, no one will punish you for anything."

You look down at your hands wrapped in bandages and is about to pick up a spoon when someone else takes it instead.

"It's okay to ask for help," Hoseok says with a sweet grin as he scoops up a spoonful of porridge and gently blows on it. "Tomorrow, there'll be more food."

As he hovers the spoon in front of you, you think that this is too good to be true.

.

.

"Want to go shopping?"

You blink your eyes at Namjoon's question. It's hard tilting with the gash around your neck so you settle with this instead. "For..what?"

He smiles and dimples appear before his cheeks and your heart almost swoons. It's charming. "For your clothes, of course."

You gasp. "N-no, you shouldn't..- you don't have to."

"But of course we should, Y/N."

You shake your head before wincing at the pain that shoots against your neck and it's their turn to gasp.

"Careful, Y/N, please be careful."

"I'm sorry, I'm okay," you promise Yoongi before turning to Namjoon again. "Y-you don't have to buy me anything," you tell him. "You shouldn't waste your money on someone like me. It's not worth it."

"Oh darling, is this what he's gotten you to think? That you aren't worth anything?" When you don't answer Seokjin's question and your eyes cast to the floor, they know that it must be true.

So Namjoon kneels before you and takes your hands in a gentle manner. He meets your eyes from the floor and sends you a sad smile. "All the things that he's told you are wrong, my love. You are precious as a gemstone, as the most beautiful flower in the universe, as the greatest person to have ever been born. You are worth more than anything in this world."

The sun shines bright from the morning day. It falls past the open curtains, through the glass windows, and touches you in a way you hadn't felt for a long, long time.

It's warm.

Just like Namjoon's hold.

No.

Namjoon's hold is so much more precious. As if you are special, as if you are someone delicate and he doesn't dare to ever break.

"So let us do this for you, hm?" Taehyung says and you look up as he places a few pats on your head.

You feel nice. You feel like you're a good girl and you're being rewarded even though you've done nothing to deserve all this. "O..okay..." You say and they smile. "But I...I-I don't want to go out." You swallow a lump in your throat. Still afraid, still timid. "I don't want to..I don't want to risk anything. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, sweetheart." Taehyung smiles. "We'll go in your stead, me and Namjoon, and we'll get you all the pretty clothes that you deserve."

Namjoon nods as he stands again and when they're about to walk away, you hold the hem of his shirt just slightly but it's enough to make him understand that you still have something to say. "Please don't get too much."

Namjoon chuckles and ruffles your hair. "Don't count on it, baby."

.

.

You sneak out of your bedroom wearing a white cotton sweater that Namjoon and Taehyung got you a few days ago. It lays just against your upper thigh feeling oh so soft against your skin.

Tonight you can't sleep again but this is the first time you don't feel like staying in bed and doing nothing to rid of the nightmares. So you walk out, tiptoeing lightly though you don't know why because you're sure no one else is awake. But then again, you don't want to wake anyone up because you're being too loud.

They've already provided enough for you, you can't be ungrateful.

Still, you aren't sure why you're leaving your bedroom. Maybe for a drink of water, to clear your mind. Maybe hoping someone is awake? If they are, what will you do?

You don't know but your ears catch on something.

The light rapid tapping clicks of a keyboard just downstairs where the large living room is. You walk down with slow steps, legs better than it was when you had first met them. The bandages around them, your tummy, your ears, and your hands are all gone. Yoongi has checked on them everyday and was strict on when he'd take them off.

All that's left is the gash around your neck that still needs a little more time to heal.

It feels like a collar at this point but you don't find any ill will towards it. Yoongi wraps it around you after all.

The living room shows a bright light coming from the screen of a laptop and you find Hoseok sitting on the sofa, his brows creased with focus as his eyes run over the tiny letters written on the screen. For a moment he just sits there reading, a hand rubbing his chin, barely blinking just to keep himself from missing anything.

It's a similar scene to your last master but also so different.

Because Hoseok is kind and although his gaze is serious and firm as he's in his work mood, you know that he is gentle and that he will never hurt you in any way. The past few weeks with them have proved it.

You're mesmerized by the way he sits alone that you almost forget it's wrong to yearn for someone like him.

But seeing that he's awake, you definitely don't want to head back to your room now. You don't know what you'll do but you can't head back to that lonely place and you can't disturb Hoseok.

Yet when you take a step forward, something creeks underneath and you hold your breath as Hoseok looks up and over his shoulder to see who it was.

You think he'll grow angry that you've disturbed him but he doesn't. He isn't the same as your previous master. That isn't Hoseok or any of them because instead of shouting at you to return to your room, his face contours into a soft expression and the crease between his brows disappears for a moment.

"What is it, kitten?" His voice is strained from working over hours but it welcomes you in. "Can't sleep?" He asks.

You want to nod your head but your neck hinders it so you're forced to speak up. "Mm-hmm."

He extend a hand out at your soft hum, offering you to come along. You allow yourself to go at his request, feet padding softly against the floor.

He lets you sit next to him on the sofa, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you in close yet deeming you not close enough so he settles you on his lap instead. You blush a deep rose color and hope that the darkness hides your face but the screen in front of the two of you only illuminates it. He chuckles gently, carefully placing you between his legs as he holds you close and breathes in your sweet scent. Hoseok leans in as if he can't get enough of you, places a kiss on your head, on your cheek, and against the bandages of your neck.

"Keep me company, hm?"

You've never felt so loved before. Not before leaving your master's mansion and accidentally meeting them.

But Jimin said it was fate. Jimin said this isn't accidental.

A serendipity.

You like that word. You like serendipity.

So you allow yourself to lay your head against Hoseok's chest, curling up against him. It's a little difficult with your neck but you do well eventually getting into a comfortable position. He smells nice, they always smell nice, and when he places a hand against your thigh, your tail curls around it subconsciously.

You can sleep now.

It soft and warm and you know you can trust him.

.

.

Some nights are better than others.

Some nights you'll wake up or you can't fall asleep at all and you'll stay cooped up in your bedroom, hugging the blanket, hugging the pillow, hiding yourself from the world, and cry silently to yourself. Those nights they can usually tell what has happened the morning after because you'll have bags under your eyes.

"Baby don't be afraid to wake us up if you have to," Jungkook tells you.

"Would you like to sleep with us?" Taehyung offers. "Will that make you feel better? Because it always makes me feel better sleeping with others. I can hug them and they'll hold me so that I won't be afraid of the dark."

They are too kind and you're too afraid of using that kindness to your advantage, still afraid of being happy and then growing disappointed all over again. So you sway your body a little from side to side because you can't hurt your neck and although they look like they want to say something further, they nod and let you make your own decision.

You will come around when you feel a little more comfortable.

Some nights are a little more unbearable and usually you can take it, usually the nightmares aren't that bad. But this time when you tried to sleep, any time you'd close your eyes, the images of your old master will appear to torment you over and over again.

The night is scary, you dread the night. Because unlike night, the morning offers you light. The morning offers you Seokjin's sweet pancakes. It gives you their warmth, their arms that wraps around you, their sweet good morning kisses.

So you try to stay awake through the night, hoping for it to just pass by like any other nights.

But tonight is harder than other nights and you're scared and you don't know if you can wait that long until the morning sun appears.

So you take the covers off your body and walk out, legs trembling as they lead you to the first door that is the closest to you. You knock on it softly. Three soft knocks.

It's dark and it's quiet and you think that perhaps the person behind the door can't hear the knocks because it's too soft but Seokjin is a light sleeper so of course he hears it.

Your ears pick up on his footsteps coming your way and you hold your breath, afraid, as he walks over and opens the door.

"I-I'm so sorry," you quickly apologize before he can say anything. "I just..I couldn't sleep and I know it's rude to wake you up in the middle of the night but I was so scared and the nightmares got a little too overwhelming but if you don't wish to see me then I'll gladly leave—"

"Nonsense," someone else speaks up. Their voice is deep and groggy and when you look up, you find Namjoon stepping up from behind Seokjin.

They've mentioned that they usually sleep together, often times switching it up between members because everyone would like a chance to sleep with one another. Split up in groups of two, two, and three. There's even a grand room with a bed bigger than you can ever imagine, that holds about seven or more people. They've told you that if you ever wanted to join along, you didn't have to be shy but you've always opted with sleeping by yourself.

Tonight you have Seokjin and Namjoon.

"Come here, pretty one," Seokjin says as he puts a hand behind your back and ushers you in. Namjoon closes the door behind you and you're led to their bed and laid right in between the two of them.

They hold you gently, careful not to be too strong and accidentally squish you but right now you'd really like to be squished, to know that they're here and they won't ever let go. But it's a little difficult with your sore neck, where the two of them place soft kisses against, and you think maybe you can ask for the tight holds when your neck heals.

Maybe.

For now, you let Seokjin sing you a soft lullaby to sleep even if it means repeating it a few times. He doesn't stop until he's absolutely sure you're asleep between their hold, where your soft purrs ring through the air and Namjoon goes on the brush away a small tear that escapes the corner of your eyes.

"She doesn't deserve any of this," Seokjin whispers into the night as he strokes your cheek.

"One day she'll be strong enough to tell us who he is," Namjoon is sure, "and when that day comes, we'll get him and finally make her ours."

"Legally or...?"

When the younger man smiles, Seokjin can see it through the moonlight glowing past their windows. He doesn't have to say a thing for Seokjin to understand what he means.

Yeah, that'd be something all of them would like.

For you to finally be theirs.

.

.

"W-wait..-" You stop Yoongi before he can collect the first aid kit and he looks up a little confused but urges you to go on. "Why...aren't you bandaging my neck up again?" You ask him, eyes filled with conflicting thoughts.

Yet Yoongi only smiles. "You have no need for it anymore," he states simply. "It's all healed now with just the scar left."

"N-no, I.." Your voice trembles and his brows knit together as he wonders what's going on. Surely you'd like the bandages gone, right? Doesn't it feel uncomfortable? It's been a month since you've had it on. You take the first aid kit and place it back on the table and take his hand into yours. "Please wrap it again," you ask of him. "It..scares me. I don't want to look at the scars imprinted on it because it'll remind me of what he did."

"Oh, baby." If Yoongi can, he'd leave the house right now to beat up the man that had ever dared to call himself a man, treating you in ways too cruel for a human, hurting you, leaving you to starve and thirst. It's all his damn fault, he's made you this way. So afraid of the world, too afraid to trust that easily. Yoongi can only wish for you to smile. He wishes to see it but he doesn't think he's ever seen such a precious thing plastered on your face.

So he sighs as he take the roll of bandage to wrap it over your neck like the routine the both of you has gotten used to. He'll tell the boys about this later but for now, Yoongi places a soft kiss against your neck when he finishes.

"You are loved, Y/N, please never forget that."

.

.

"How do you feel? Excited?"

"Mmm.." you trail of at Jimin's question, feet hesitant as you stare at the garage filled of vehicles. "Scared," you whisper and he takes your hand to squeeze it gently.

"It's gonna be alright," the oldest of the group assures with a soft smile.

"It's been a while."

"It has, hasn't it?" Taehyung nods as he thinks about it. You were just a small little kitten that had fallen upon their paths and they decided to take you in without hesitation. "But you're going to do great, I know you will."

Jungkook takes the driver seat of the black minivan while Jimin sits in the passenger seat and Taehyung stays in the back with you.

You haven't been out since they've taken you in and quite honestly, you're a nervous wreck. But you also know that if you want to heal, you'll have to take measures into your own hands. They've taken care of you so well so you have to step up the courage for yourself. You'll be alright, you know you will, with Taehyung next to you to hold your hand steady and the other two who checks on you through the rear mirror every once in a while.

It's just a simple task of grocery shopping. You wear a light pink long sleeved plaid mini a-line shirtdress that falls to your thighs. Taehyung likes seeing you in dresses so most of your clothes are just him spoiling you with pretty dresses.

You don't mind it. Well at first you did but he was always so insistent and told you he wanted to spoil you so you couldn't go up against him, not when he's always so willing to give you everything.

It's different from your last master.

Everything is different.

Even the steps you take as you walk around the supermarket and Taehyung and Jimin holds your hand while Jungkook pushes the cart. Your master never allowed you out to do anything and even if he did, his eyes were always on you to make sure you didn't run away. You can never scream aloud for help, he's threatened you so many times to not do that. And because of his status and money, you were always way too afraid to go against him in person.

But here, walking along the maknae line of your caretakers, Jungkook smiles as he sees the swaying of your tail which indicates that you're alright and he has nothing to worry about.

"Hello, do you know where they sell coffee beans?" The boys have their backs turned away as you stare wondrously at the various meat to your side when someone approaches you. It's a hybrid, a she-wolf, and it shouldn't scare you but it does and suddenly your heart is quickening and you can't get any words out.

Jungkook must have noticed because when he turns around and sees you, he's quick to act. "It should be down there, aisle eight," he points and the wolf smiles as she thanks him.

When she leaves, the three of them turns to you. "You okay?" Taehyung asks with concern as he places a hand on your shoulder.

They make it all better so you let out a soft sigh. "I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "Don't be, my dear. We're so proud of you." He rewards you with a little kiss against your neck and at this point, the neck kisses has come to symbolize their love and care for you. A sign telling you that they're right here, that they won't go anywhere.

"I think we got everything on the list," Jungkook says a few moments later after wondering around the store. He looks over the paper Seokjin had given him again before shoving the thing behind his jean pocket. "Want to buy anything?" He grins your way. "You can get any snacks you'd like."

They look at you as you think for a moment before saying, "Mochi."

Jimin raises a brow, amused. "Mochi?"

"Does it taste good?" You ask and he chuckles.

"Delicious."

"I want some," you say cutely and they proceed on to the frozen section not long after.

"What flavor would you like?" They all look good but as you look around at the variety, Jimin sees that you're more drawn to the pink ones. "Strawberry it is."

When you walk back out to the parking lot, something drips against your skin.

Then another, and another.

Before the four of you realize it's raining and Jimin has his bag of groceries all in one hand while the other rushes to hold his jacket over your head as you all run towards the minivan.

He's quick to open the door and rush you inside while they head towards the trunk to place the groceries in before safely returning to the safety of the van.

You run your hand against Taehyung's hair to flick away the tiny drops of water that drips from the tip of his hair and he goes on to pat along your dress. "You alright?" The man asks and you nod. "Your bandage got a bit damped," he says, pressing his lips together.

"It's okay," you say and Taehyung smiles as he tucks your hair behind your ears.

"Let's get you home."

When you return, the first thing Hoseok does is pull the four of you aside to dry yourselves with towels and change out of your wet clothes while the hyungs take care of putting away the groceries.

"Did you have fun?" The man asks as you sit on a chair while he wraps a new bandage around your neck. You nod at his question and he smiles.

"Next time we'll go to some place more fun," Jungkook promises with a gentle ruffle of your hair.

"Will it be crowded?" You worry.

"It doesn't have to be," he tells you. "Until you're comfortable, we'll only do the things that doesn't involve too many people, alright?"

When Hoseok is finished with your neck, the five of you return to the kitchen where Jimin helps you open your snack.

"It's cold," you shiver at the feel of the soft yet freezing sensation.

The man chuckles as he picks up a piece for you and offers it to your mouth. You take a bite which make things a little more cold but you're too caught up by how sweet and delicious it is to care. "Wow!"

"Delicious, isn't it?"

"Mhm!" You nod enthusiastically and Jimin smiles fondly as he goes to wipe away the white powder that has made itself around your lips with his clean hand.

"I'm so proud of you, baby."

You frown cutely in confusion at your second bite. "But I haven't done anything."

"But you have, my sweet kitten," he tells you otherwise. "You've gotten more comfortable asking us for things and have decided to go out all on your own. We're all so proud of you."

The soft kiss he rewards you with on your forehead makes your heart flutter.

.

.

"I have a present for you."

It's a late night. The stars and moon are present in the sky, the curtains closed to keep any creepy things of the night from scaring you, and the lights are on as the eight of you sit around in the comfort of the living room.

You look at Yoongi with confusion as he pulls out a white box with a pretty pink bow wrapped on top. "We all decided to pitch in," he says. "There's two of each from each of us in here all for you."

"For me?" He nods as you look at the box, curiosity peeking in as you wonder how there's two of each gift from the seven men that sits and awaits for you to open the present. You take the box, sniffing instinctively yet smelling nothing that can ruin the surprise.

They watch you steadily, holding their breaths as you untie the pink bow and let it fall away. When you open the box, something unexpected greets you. There are rolls of soft silk that lays in the box, all in different colors, fourteen altogether. It sits prettily inside in rows, soft in colors, not too bright, not too dull.

You take one in hand, an ivory color, and the silk unrolls upon your fingers. Your eyes widen at what it has to offer, untangling into a long piece of silk that looks so similar to something you have gotten used to wearing.

"Th..this..." You look up at Yoongi who holds a steady gaze. It's calm and soft, just the way that makes your heart ache and flutter at the same time. There are tears swimming at the brim of your waterline before he even explains it.

"They're for your neck," he says gently. "We figured it'd feel much better to wear something that doesn't seem like you still have to heal, because you're already doing so well, something that doesn't look like a burden, something that will make you feel better about yourself instead of looking in the mirror and staring at the bandage wrapped around your neck. We wanted to make you feel pretty because you deserve so much more than what this world has to offer, Y/N. You deserve all good things that doesn't always have to remind you of your previous life because you are beyond whatever he had always told you. You are loved and cherished and there is nothing in this world would we like more than for you to know that you will never be alone. We'll always be here for you, Y/N, so you don't have to be afraid anymore."

It's a scary world.

A world that frightens you more than the sleepless nights you'd still sometimes get.

You aren't used to kindness, you aren't used to others seeing you as an equal. Heck, you were even afraid when that hybrid approached you for directions.

But to be here with the ones that have found you laying helplessly on the dirty ground, the ones that have taken you into their sweet home, cleaned you up, fixed up your wounds, fed you, allowed you to have your own room and bed, the ones that have never stopped showing you that they care. They'll always press a kiss somewhere on your body, remind you that you deserve all nice things, shower you with love and affection, and have never gotten angry at you even when you make a slight mistake.

It's as if the universe has finally allowed you to live well, as if this is destiny and that you're meant to be here with them, loved and cared for.

Sometimes you do wish there was something a little more but you know that you cannot be that selfish. You have them as this and for now, that is all you'll ever care to want.

So you push the box aside and you wrap your arms around Yoongi's neck and he allows you to climb into his lap, nuzzling your nose in the crook of his neck and allow yourself to tear up. "Thank you," you whisper.

"Oh, pretty kitten, you deserve the world."

You shake your head lightly. "I don't care about having the world, I just want you."

He meets the eyes of the others with a soft gaze. "You have us, baby."

.

.

"Do you ever want to be ours legally?"

You look between Seokjin and Namjoon who sits across from you from the coffee table and stop eating the half eaten apple slice in your hand.

It's a question you love and hate at the same time. Yes you want to be theirs legally, but that would also mean another thing. You aren't dumb, you know Seokjin and Namjoon can take care of these things because they work for the law, fighting for more rights for hybrids but you know that it won't be easy.

It will never be easy for your case.

"Won't that mean..." you trail off, eyes falling to your lap as you plop the last piece of apple in your mouth and return your hands to your lap. You chew onto the fruit slowly, swallowing thickly before looking back up at them, a little more conflicted. "It will mean having to deal with him," you say in a small voice. "It means..I have to see him...won't I?"

"No, baby," Seokjin shakes his head gently. "I will not allow him to see you if you definitely do not wish for that. He won't be able to hurt you ever again."

You curl up into a little ball, arms wrapped around your knees, head hidden halfway against it. "But he's scary," you say, voice timid with a soft whimper. "He'll think of ways to get me back once he knows I'm still alive and..and..-"

"Hey, hey, hey." Namjoon rushes to your side in a calm voice with arms circling around you. "It's okay, baby, we've got you. I promise you everything's going to be okay."

Seokjin comes to your other side. "Any hybrid mistreated by their owners are protected under the law. He will not be able to get past us, I promise you."

"How're you so sure?" You sniff as you lean in closer to their touches. "He's a powerful man."

"There's one of him and seven of us," Namjoon reminds.

"And two of us who knows the laws more than anyone," Seokjin adds.

"Have a little more faith in your freedom, baby, we've got connections too."

"I'm scared," you confess though in all honesty, you don't really have to because they can already tell. Why wouldn't you feel scared? Petrified? This is dealing with your last owner after all.

A man not worthy of being titled a human and Seokjin and Namjoon just wants the nightmares all gone at the snap of their fingers.

But they know that it will be much more than that, something more difficult.

And seeing you in this distressed state, lips whispering sweet comforts into your ears, they meet each other's eyes and there's a silent vow that they give one another.

A vow that they will fix all of this.

You're worth all of it after all and they will never give up on you.

.

.

The nights are long but the days grow longer. Insomniac. Trying to hold onto the last pieces of hope you have left in this life.

Them.

It's scary, not knowing what the outcome will be especially when the boys refuse to tell you how the case is going because all they wish is to protect you. You've told them plenty of times that you can take it, that you're strong and brave enough. But even then, they'll only pat your head and say, "I know, babygirl, but let us take care of everything, alright?"

Maybe they're right, maybe you'll go crawling back to your little hole and deem everything and everyone is scary and mean all over again, but it's even more scary not knowing anything.

Seokjin and Namjoon comes home so late and then locking themselves up in their offices. The rest of the boys hold you through it all, keeping you safe in their arms, whispering sweet comforting words to make you feel a little better.

It helps. You know you'd be in a worse condition if it weren't for them, so you allow their warmths to welcome you in.

It's just scary so you refuse to sleep, knowing the nightmares will tear you down all over again. So you stay in the arms of your sweet boys who cradles you and press kisses to your head, petting you, scratching you lightly on your kitten ears just to evoke soft purring out of you.

"Do you think we'll win?" You ask Jungkook timidly as he runs his hands through your hair with a sweet rose scented shampoo. Your fingers play along with the pink bath bubbles hoping to distract yourself but it doesn't really help. "Do you think I'll ever become yours?"

"Oh, baby," he sighs with a gentle smile curling along his lips, fingers stopping midway to press along your human ears and raise your head up. You're pouting just slightly with big round eyes that he can stare at for days if he could. Jungkook leans in, the tip of his nose touching yours, giving you a sweet eskimo kiss. "You're already ours even without the legality."

"I am?"

"If you want to, that is."

"Of course I do!" You wrap your arms around his neck, only to remember you're still in the bath soaking wet a little too late, and a cute gasp leaves your lips when you wet him. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean-"

"I know baby," he chuckles, "it's alright."

You place your hands back into the water sheepishly with your cheeks rose pink. "I'm just.." you sigh, "I'm just scared, Kookie, and I'm worried about Namjoon and Jin."

"Namjoon will make sure to throw him into prison, sweetie, and Jin will make sure you are legally ours and that he won't get to you. No matter what tricks he has up his sleeves, he won't get away with this, I promise you. They'll take care of him. The laws have been readjusted to protect the hybrids and their rights. We'll win this, I know it, and it may take a while for everything to heal but Y/N," there is a soft gaze resting on his face as he goes to lightly graze along the skin on your neck.

It doesn't hurt anymore but you still like covering it up and the only times it's out there for them to see is in moments like these. A scar to remind you of what has happened but that you're healing day by day, all because of them.

"No matter how long it will take, my sweet kitten, we will never give up on you, you got that? You've got us for the rest of your life."

You smile at his words. "Is that..a threat?"

Jungkook laughs. "No, baby," he shakes his head then leans in to place a soft kiss upon the scar, "it's a promise."

.

.

"Jin!" You jump out of Hoseok's hold and run over to the man that finally emerges from his office. Him and Namjoon are always either at the law firm or stuck in their offices trying to win this case and now here he is, hopefully to take a breather. The man welcomes you in his arms and holds you up, chuckling with you greet him with kisses because you miss him. "You alright?" You ask as he sits the two of you down on the sofa beside Taehyung.

He readjusts your position to something more comfortable and you look up from where he holds you, a thumb reaching up and slotting itself right in between his creased brows.

His tired expression softens and Jin sighs with content, knowing all of this will be worth it in the end. "I'm okay, baby," he assures you.

"But we need your help with something," Namjoon says as he comes in to join the group. His arm crosses against his chest, brows furrowed, a look of discomfort as he closes his eyes for a moment of hesitation as if asking anything from you is too much.

"What is it?"

He lets out a sigh before fluttering his eyes open again and meets your gaze. "Sweetheart...can you tell us what happened?"

Oh.

You knew at some point you'd have to come clean about your past and tell them everything. Of how you were brought into his home, what happened, the details of what happened and not just the gist of everything because they know the gist. You're a hybrid who was unlucky to be bought by some cruel man like many other hybrids out there, therefore starved for days, hurt and beaten.

But that's all they know. And they can only guess what happened.

They don't know how you were hurt, how your neck was in such a condition, what horrible things he's made you do, what hurtful words he's told you, they don't know any of the details.

So are you ready?

Seokjin can feel you trembling so he holds you a little tighter, a little closer, pressing your ears against his chest for you to listen to his heartbeat because he knows it calms you down listening to the beat of their hearts. "Oh baby, it's okay. We're right here. You don't have to say a thing if you don't wish to. You don't have to revisit the past, baby. It's okay." He press kisses on top of your head, rubbing his palm upon your arm and back.

And he's right.

They're right here no matter what happens. Always here to comfort, always here for hugs and kisses or to just be the pillar you need when you want to be held, always here to listen.

They aren't like the master you had before. They listen, they care, speaking in soft gentle tones for you, spoiling you with gifts, allowing you to eat whatever and as much as you want, never scolding you for anything except for when you aren't taking care of yourself, but even then they'd promise they'll be the ones to take of you in your stead, until you learn to care for your own self.

The world is scary. Humans are scary, some more than others, some that just seems scary but aren't, most of them you may never come to trust.

But still, they're here. Right here, holding you, not forcing you to do or say anything against your will.

So you shake your head and lean back just a little, wiping away your tears, holding a hand against your heart and take in a deep shaky breath to steady yourself. "No, it's okay," you say, taking Seokjin's hand and squeezing it gently. You look up at the rest who has on the same worried expressions and can feel your heart fluttering with warmth, wanting to cry again but for a different reason. "It's okay, I trust you all."

The story is long and horrible and has you crawling in fear all over again as you relive your nightmare but they're right here for you. Even as you cry and have a breakdown, them telling you you don't have to go on, but you still go on.

For them, and for yourself.

Not everything is alright but they always make it better.

.

.

Weeks later, your ears pick up on the entrance door creaking open and Namjoon and Seokjin walks in, suit jackets draping over their arms with their briefcases just hanging on the tip of their fingers, hair ruffled and messy, tired eyes, looking oh so exhausted. They see you emerging from the kitchen floor and you greet them with a small smile just ready to comfort them into making sure they rest in between all of this mess.

Yet something feels a little different than the past days, and when you see their faces brightening at the sight of you, arms held open, you think you understand what that means.

The tears form along your waterline before you can even think of the thoughts, feet rushing at such a fast speed before you can tame yourself, running straight into their arms with sobs escaping you. And so they hold you there, laughing, hugging you back just as tightly, with sighs that indicates that it's over. It's truly over.

You're theirs now.

.

.

"You alright, little one?"

It's in the middle of the night, you're in your room head filled with thoughts as you sit on the floor at the foot of your bed, fluffy white rug underneath you, with a pretty familiar box that falls open in front of you. The rain falls hard outside, dropping against your windows, thunder crashing at one point or another, but you aren't afraid as you were before.

You welcome it, tail swaying gently from side to side. Perhaps it just goes to show how angry your last master is but even then he cannot win at this game called your life. You're sheltered in a home that will never let anything bad fall upon you. Sheltered in their arms.

When you look up, Yoongi walks in as the others follow, their eyes casting to the pretty white box you have out on display, scarfs untangled from their rolls, clashing upon one another.

You are more than alright.

"You've taken your scarf off," he takes note of your naked neck as he settles beside you. "You doing alright?"

He rakes his hand into your hair, scratching upon your scalp lightly. "How can I not?" You purr, consciously leaning in closer to him. "I don't think I'm scared of it anymore," you say, placing a hand against your neck. "But the scarfs hides the ugliness so I'm gonna keep wearing it."

"Sweet kitten," Yoongi sighs as he takes you into his lap. "Nothing about you is ugly, you got that?" He says, chiding gently.

"People will say otherwise," you pout.

They don't say anything but Jimin comes forth, putting the box of scarfs to the side, his hand holding your face. Before you can question what he's doing, he peppers kisses all over your face that has you bursting out with giggles because the sweet sensation feels ticklish.

"S-stop," you squeak but he doesn't relent and Yoongi only holds you still in his arms, refusing you to turn away and escape both their grasps.

"Not unless you say you're pretty," the younger man muse.

"Okay, okay! I..-" He lets you hold him still in front of you, faces just about an inch away. "I.." you stutter, "I'm pretty."

Your cheeks are bright pink under the light of your room from the embarrassment of saying such a thing and Jimin chuckles. "Mmh," he hums, voice dangerously low, "you sure are."

The next thing you know, Jimin's lips falls upon yours and your eyes widen, heart drumming loud and hard against your chest almost to the point of you thinking it'll probably take flight.

Your first kiss.

It isn't a peck, a small one that leaves too quickly for your liking, but even as he feels your surprise and hesitation, he doesn't stop there, not when your own eyes eventually flutters shut, and goes in to actually taste your sweet lips against his pillowy ones.

The world feels like it's stop just to allow this to happen, your head spinning in circles still not believing this is actually happening and not understanding why. But you don't pull away because his lips are so addicting, sweet and soft just as you've imagined them to be.

When he leans away a moment later, your face is flushed and Yoongi can feel the heat radiating off you.

"Ah hyung," Jungkook whines from behind the man that has just kissed you, "I wanted to go first."

Oh.

Jimin chuckles when you avoid his eyes and go to hide your face in the crook of Yoongi's neck, curling into a ball against him. "Hmm...I'm guessing babygirl likes it?"

You never knew Jimin could be such a tease.

"Come on," Namjoon sighs, "we're supposed to take things slow, clarify things first, not just go straight for her lips."

Wait-

"Wait, what?" You lean away from Yoongi's hidden shelter, eyes wide and filled with curiosity as you look towards Namjoon for answers. "What does...what did that kiss mean?"

"Shouldn't you, you know," Taehyung chuckles, "ask the one who kissed you?"

"I..-" You don't know how your body can grow hotter by the second but it does and butterflies are flying everywhere in your tummy, heart drumming frustratingly loud.

"You don't know what it means?" Jimin feigns a pout. He holds the side of your face, kisses you on the head and the temple. "You don't know, my sweet innocent kitten?" He tilts your head just a bit to press a kiss against your neck.

You think you do but no one's ever told you such words before.

"Can you..say it?" You ask meekly as you look up at him, eyes gazing through your lashes. "Can you say the words?"

His face softens at your insecurities and the tears that begins to form without your knowledge. "Oh baby," he breaths, "I love you so much."

"We all do," Hoseok says. He takes your hand as Yoongi holds you a little tighter.

"We love you," Seokjin declares.

A tear falls against your precious cheeks and their heart aches at how much you've had to suffer to finally find happiness, to finally find a home. Jimin catches it before it can drip down from your chin and wipes the trail.

Were you lucky to stumble into their paths?

Months ago you'd probably say so sitting in that bubble bath as Jimin washed you. But now you don't think it was ever a happy accident.

Perhaps Jimin was right when he said this is what one would call a serendipity. Hearts written in the constellations before the universe was even created.

And for that, you know you've found your home.