#all while still reading old fic but also new ones thrown in

[ramonathinks]

matters of the heart — Nanami K.

summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend wrote a novel detailing your relationship isn’t how you expected this week to go and to make matters worse everyone on the internet now thinks your “character” is a total bitch. you decide to pay your ex a visit, but can you do that without succumbing to your natural urges? well, no!

tags: 18+(MDNI/blank blogs) slight porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), brief nipple sucking, daddy kink, creampie, i guess nanami is a bit toxic in this lol, nanami might also be a bit ooc in here

to the moaners: has this been sitting in the draft for about 3-4 months? yes! but happy birthday month, kento 😚. artwork by @/_3aem (twt); @ryomens-vixen (this was the fic I mentioned a while back) word count: 5.6k (yuck), I don't really like this

I’m going to kill him, that was the only thing on your mind once you closed out of the novel. Normally, your weekends were spent relaxing with a fruity bubble-gum colored cocktail but today was different. Shoko called your phone at exactly 9:26 am claiming it was time she divulged some news to you. At exactly 9: 28am, she sent you an online copy of a book titled, “Matters of the Heart” and told you it was nothing but a two or three hour read and then to call once you finished. 

The book had a slow start and it seemed pretty average, just any old love story. Lately, anything was getting published and it seemed that was the case here — wait, you paused your reading and sat up straight. No. Just no. Something just clicked for you which led you to completely start over from page one. 

The moment you finished, at exactly 1:01 pm, you grabbed a salmon colored low cut shirt and light washed jeans, slipped on your white shoes and hurried to get into your car. You didn’t need to call her phone because you were going to talk to her face to face; this situation warranted a real conversation. It was nothing but a 17 minute drive to Shoko’s house, so when you arrived at exactly 1:18 pm, her door was already open. “They’re bashing me, Shoko. Fucking bashing! How could he do this to me?” Were the first words that flew out of your mouth, holding your phone close to her face so that she could see the reviews. 

“Well, it’s not like anyone would know it’s you.” She yawned, handing you a cup of water – probably because of how crazy you looked – before she ushered you to a seat on the couch. A golden brown blanket was lazily thrown on the seat, which she hurried to move. You sat down and faced her with a look of what Shoko could only describe as pure sadness. She had seen you like this many times before, all because of one person. 

“You did.” You sniffled with an eye roll, you couldn’t help but feel uncertain. Reading this book only brought back more uncomfortable feelings towards the breakup and him. You thought that you were over him and the memories that the book produced made you question everything. One question remained which is: Why?

She giggled drily. “Hey, I read all his works. Pseudonym or not. He can’t hide from me. Plus, I know you both and everything that went on. I was there too, remember?” She mumbled the last part. “Maybe this was his way of coping?”

“It’s been years… and I heard he’s announced a sequel. Shoko, a SEQUEL! It’ll be released later this year.” You spoke in a shaking watery voice while she rubbed your back in an attempt of comfort. Your mind could only think of what the reactions would be to your character in the sequel… insecurities that you never knew were there flooded your mind.

“There was enough material for a sequel? I thought he covered everything…” Shoko rubbed her chin and looked deep in thought. You just stared at her, she couldn’t be serious. “Sorry, ignore me.” She shook her head ignoring your stare.

“Do I even confront him over this? A-and how would that make me look, like I still check on him right? I’ll look crazy and bitter… which apparently I am. Oh and I’m bitchy and a ‘total cunt’ as they’re putting online.” He didn’t know just how much you changed, he missed your growth. Rubbing your eyes, you ask:“Why did you tell me about this? What made you take so long… I just don’t understand.”

“Well, at first… I didn’t think you’d care.” Moving a strand of her nut-brown hair out of her face, she continued. “Then about a month ago, I decided it was right to tell you, just in case someone else pieced it together.”

“Gojo read it then, huh?” You mentally cringed at the thought. It was the only person you could think of who’d be so crude about it. He knew how damaging the breakup was for you but not as bad as Shoko knows. Now, you’re just grateful that she told you before he did.

“Yep, so I figured that I had to tell you before he did.” She clicked her tongue. “But let’s just calm down before you make any rash decisions on how to handle this.” 

“He wrote a fucking duality series about me, our relationship, our sex life and you want me to calm down? Are you listening to yourself? This is a serious matter. I am being called a bitch, a slut and more on Goodreads and multiple websites, reviews, etc. and he didn’t even have the audacity to give me a heads up. You had to call me.” You let out an unladylike snort.“Why couldn’t he stick to his mystery novels? Wasn’t he doing good at those?”

“Writer's block.” Shoko said in a singsong-like voice. “He hadn’t written a mystery book since you two broke up and then… he alerted his supporters he wanted to switch things up and then… that was that. Ladies loved it, a big hit. By the way, if you two were really fucking like that I need to se—”

“Shoko, now is not the time!” Your face felt hot all over, your mind racing. “I just can’t believe this.” You wrapped your arms around your body and squeezed, giving yourself one big squeeze. It was hard not to cry but you could feel it all in your throat. 

“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think his intentions were to make you feel bad.” She hugged you to her chest, pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head. “I think he still loves you. I mean, isn’t this book proof? After all these years, he wrote about you.” 

“I’m sure he moved on by now.” You whispered, your eyes growing tired already and the day had barely started. “I just need to lay down. I need to rest.” Your mind seemed to finally grow calm and your breathing steady, a small hiccup now in your throat but with a gulp of water, you were better.

“Just stay here. I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Shoko’s voice drowned out as sleep overtook you, you could only feel her warmth as she held you and honestly it was all you needed at this moment, Shoko always made you feel safe and you couldn’t thank her more than enough for that right now as you slept.

You were a light sleeper, it was always something that Nanami pointed out about you. He always said how he felt like he couldn’t leave the room while you slept even if it was to use the bathroom afraid to wake you. He knew how important sleep was to you and he’d risk having a bladder infection if you got all 8 hours that you required. Nanami was sweet and caring like that. 

You didn’t think you’d break up with him ever. He was the one for you and he always made that clear. He pampered you and even after the breakup – though you didn’t need it – he left you with a check for five thousand dollars, saying it was for his half of the lease for the next few months. 

The breakup was brutal for you. You almost quit working entirely. Shoko was the only person you’d confined into and the only friend you left to check in on you especially when you didn’t want to leave the house. She brought you groceries and helped you shower until you finally were able to get up again.

Though it was hard to believe, it was Nanami who broke up with you. You thought it was a joke, a cliche little joke. 

“Baby, I’m not joking.” His voice was quiet and husky, he spoke as if he was going to cry. “I just need some time to myself. I need to figure out if this is what I want. You don’t have to wait for me, you just keep on living your life and being happy. But… I think it’s time we let this go.” 

You didn’t cry in front of him. You didn’t cry when he packed his things up. You certainly didn’t cry when he shut the door, leaving his key on the table because you knew he was joking. He had to be. But when you called him and his number was disconnected and you were blocked on any form of social media… that was when you broke down and cried. 

It happened out of nowhere. You overanalyzed every aspect of your relationship for where you went wrong. You wrote down every conversation you could remember and dissected it word by word. You watched every video and picture you had of the two of you looking for a bit of regret or anything on his face. You read every text message, looking for malice. He said he needed time to figure out if he wanted this but he always made it clear that he did and even that he was looking forward to having kids together, you two had even gone ring shopping months ago. 

You didn’t sleep and when you did, it was only for 4 hours and sometimes barely that. Your heart had an ache in it and the tears wouldn’t stop. You could only think why wasn’t I enough?

When you opened your eyes Shoko was still holding you and a small smile grew on your lips. “Thank you Shoko.” You knew if you could count on anyone, it was always going to be her. She was the one who pieced you back together and made sure that life didn’t destroy you and you couldn’t help but to be grateful. 

“Of course. ‘M going to let you spend the night here, okay? Let’s get some takeout and watch your favorite movies, how’s that sound?” She knew the way to your aching heart like the back of her hand. 

“It sounds amazing!” You stretched your arms out wide, leaning off of her and sitting up. “Should we start with Uptown Girls or Legally Blonde?” 

It took two days before you confronted him. Shoko was adamant about not giving you his address and you were tempted to get it from her phone. But luckily, you wore her down, she was probably tired of you bringing him or his book in every conversation. So now you stood there, nerves washing over you in waves.

The mahogany colored door stared at you – mocked you – and you returned the glare before you knocked on it, hard. This was just a door and you were angry at the person behind said door, not the door itself. 

It was almost like he was waiting on you because the door unlocked and opened. He even stepped aside to let you in, quiet. His straw-colored hair was parted differently and he even looked taller or broader – you couldn’t completely tell – but he looked different… seemed different. The atmosphere around him made your stomach clench and it made you mad; why did it feel like only you suffered from the breakup? Here he was – strong and tall – and you were nothing or rather the same.

“You wrote a romance erotica novel about our relationship?” It was what you practiced saying before you got out of your car – making sure your voice didn’t tremble – this time, it didn’t. 

“Well, hello to you too. Even after three and a half years, you still like to get straight to the point.” He grinned, putting a hand on your back to guide you to a seat on his couch. “I must ask, what makes you think it’s about you?” He does a slight laugh and raises his brow.

“We have the same initials, almost the same name. Are you kidding me?” You retort, folding your arms across your chest. You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in your chest that occurred when you heard his voice after so long, hearing him and seeing that damned smile… your nose scrunched up.

“Sorry, I just didn’t know you kept up with me… with my books…” He muttered, glancing your way, a demure look in his amber eyes. “Should I be flattered?” Almost in an instant, he turned on a slight cockiness to himself, though his body language showed his nervousness – his thigh bouncing a bit and his fingers tapping on the couch handle. A light sense of relief filled your system knowing that you weren’t the only one being affected by this.

“I don’t.” You inhaled deeply. “Shoko told me about it and then, I checked it out.” Fiddling with your fingers and even picking at your nails, that was your tell all sign of nervousness and right now you were engaging in it more than ever before. 

“I wanted to tell you or rather, to ask you. I know you got the voicemails I sent last year…and then you kept dodging my calls.” He tells you, you could feel his eyes on you – or more so your fingers… the nasty habit that he had finally got you to stop all those years ago rushing right back in an instant.

“Writing a book to trash me and our relationship… to make you look like some sort of… ugh, like you’re so amazing and I’m just shit. Yeah, that certainly got my attention.” If you were coming off bitchy or rude right there, you couldn’t care less especially when there were worse things that you could’ve said or even could’ve done at this moment. You really wanted to slap him. 

“Is that all you got out of it?” He asks with his head low, almost as if he was admitting defeat or as if he couldn’t believe you came up with something so trivial. 

“Was there anything else to get?” You counter, shifting your body towards him. Maybe it was best that you sat down and actually listened to the author and his interpretations of his work.

“How about that I love you regardless of any flaws… how about I find your stubbornness and attitude sexy and how I knew this breakup would be good for you. I was holding you back. I mean, I heard you got promoted 3 times since we broke up… I just felt like I was changing you, hindering your growth. I needed to reflect on myself and this book helped that.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh, yet another sign of his anxiousness. “Believe it or not, I still care about you. No matter what happened between us.”

“What happened? You mean when you decided to just leave? You could've told me everything you just told me and I would’ve understood better. We could’ve talked and came to a compromise. You don’t understand what you put me through after it.” You were close to tears but you straighten your posture and sniffled, it was best not to think about what happened before. “I just needed a bit of closure too, I guess that’s why I came. I just was caught off guard. You could’ve knocked on my door or something, forced me to answer… forced me to talk.”

He met your eye for the first time since you came over. “You wouldn’t have listened,” He huffs. “Didn’t I mention how stubborn you are? Plus, I meant what I said. I needed time to myself and I think we both did.”

“I guess…But Nanami, this book was too much. A letter would’ve been fine if you needed closure, don’t you think?” You see his lips quirk up a bit before he licks them, trying not to laugh it seems.

“My publisher got a hold of some of the documents where I was just going over things, writing here and there. She loved the idea… plus I’m in a contract for six books so I had to put something out soon, it had already been a year.” He told you, sitting his chin on top of his knuckles. “I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I was writing for fun… reminiscing about us and then later down the line, I realized I was writing because I wanted you to read it, I just didn’t exactly know how to get you to since you were very adamant on avoiding me, which is understandable. But regardless, I didn’t think it’d get on the bestseller list or for the reviews to get so harsh.” He admits, reaching for your hand before his hand froze in midair and he stopped himself, choosing instead to put it behind his head.

“Is there anyway you can stop the sequel from being published then… since you got my attention after all this time?” You asked, putting your most dazzling smile on, hoping to sway him. 

“I can talk to my publisher. Everything’s in print and materials are already done… but I’ll try to see if I can stop production.” His adam’s apple bobbles when he does a harsh swallow. “Are we… okay? Do you forgive me?”

The question made you pause. He always made it hard for you to not forgive him; it took one look or a smile and a small explanation and it made it easy to fall in love with him all over again, no matter what he did… it seems. But it made you ask yourself: Were you too easy? Did you really forgive him? It was thoughts like that swirling around the corners of your mind. You wanted to forgive him, he was just writing and telling a story… but it was your story, not just his. Using this for your attention when he could’ve written about anything else, he didn’t have to. Were you just ready to forgive him because you still loved him? 

You hadn’t realized how deep in thought you were until you felt the couch dip and even then, your mind was still spirling.“You don’t have to…” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, his body so close to yours that it was getting hard to breathe. He still smelled the same; citrus and woodsy and it was easy to get yourself sucked back in. 

“So you can write another book about my stubbornness?” You give a quiet giggle, scooting a bit away from him, seeing him frown from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to fall back but he made it all so simple. It was easy and you were already falling back on him and you didn’t need that… Did you?

“Baby…” Your body buzzed and hummed, turning to him with wide eyes. “I’ll do anything I can to make this right. Anything for you to forgive me… If they can’t stop publication, what can I do to make us right?” He was doing more than a gaze, he was full on staring and from how close he was it was hard to avoid. 

“Nanami I–” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t really think of anything he could do but you could think of several unhealthy things you could do to ruin your progress on going over him. He had betrayed you and made you a laughing stock so why are you stuck thinking about forgiveness when you should be leaving.

“I never stopped loving you.” His fingers traced up and down your pants but his eyes stayed on yours. “I never thought about anyone but you… I never slept with anyone… it’s always been you. But, I understand what I put you through and I’ll apologize every second until you forgive me…” The blond man who you never saw shed a tear looked more than close to it. “But just please… forgive me.”

“I’m sorry, honest.” He tries again after being met with absolute silence. “Just… let me show you, okay?” His breath tickles your face for a second and when you look into his cocoa brown eyes, you feel everything you once felt again.

Memories of good times dulls out the odd feelings in the pit of your stomach – the confusion and pain – instead are replaced with joy. The trip to Malaysia where he rubbed sunscreen on your entire body and laid back to read a book and you watched as his eyes kept drifting to you while you played in the cerulean water; how you kept begging him to come in until he complied and how eventually in the early hours of the morning when you wanted another dip, he fucked you twice — once in the golden lush sand and another in the cool ocean water. 

His face is in your thighs and you couldn’t help but feel better, feeling his breath fanning so close to your pants covered pussy, your body felt scorching hot. He’s grumbling, “Will you let me make it up to you? Will you let me show you how sorry I am?” 

You must’ve nodded because he was already unbuttoning your pants and helping you lay back, pulling your shirt up just a bit to see your perky tits – he must’ve remembered how you never wore bras unless you felt it was necessary, which was mainly work or any important events. 

He blew a bit on your hardening nipples before he took one into his mouth – playing biting them with a smug look on his face before he began licking around your areolas and kissing around the swells of your breast. He doesn’t say anything but he looks deep in thought as he kisses down your body, his fingers scraping down your sides as he works your pants and your panties all the way down. Bringing his head up for a minute, he looks in your face. “I love you.” He says it simply, heavy emotions swirling in his brown eyes.

Removing your pants and underwear completely from your body, he spreads your thighs and looks over your body – a trimmed low pretty bush sits between your thighs and it makes him smile, he always loved seeing the curled hair on your delicate lower lips. He spreads your pussy, watching the skin stretch with a deep smile on his face. You could feel yourself … the wetness leaking down under your body and it made you cringe, but the way he was staring at you made the insecurities vanish. “All this for me?” He takes a tentative lick before he slurps, clutching your hips. “I know you like to run… but I need you to stay put, got it?” It was hard for you to listen to him, your head already fuzzy and the thoughts swirling around were only about him, nothing more. 

Then your body bucks up, “Wait–!” A broken moan escapes your mouth when he presses a soft wet kiss to your clit. Nanami had always been gentle and very careful whenever he ate you out; making sure his tongue was wet enough and that he wasn’t too rough. His tongue was wide enough to make your back arch, your body leaving the couch when it finally hit your clit and he gave you no time to recover before he peeled back the hood, sitting the tip of his tongue there and rapidly flicked at the bud. 

Hearing the lewd squelching noises coming from the mixture of your cunt and his mouth made you close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. He spits before he licks it up and down your aching slit, nudging his tongue inside only slightly, much to your dismay. You’re gasping every second when more of his tongue slips in and out of your pussy; sliding a bit more each time and it makes your thighs shake. When he finally slips his entire tongue inside of you, curling it just enough that you can feel it everywhere, your legs attempt to close up around his head. “Please– ‘m so… soo–oh…” His fingers join in on the fun and in small sloppy circles he rubs your clit, pressing down on the pearl while his tongue continues flicking inside of you. The split second that you open your eyes, his are already on yours and it was that moment, that made your body tense up and for you to cum. 

It happens fast, clear sticky wetness leaks out of you and Nanami still tries to get more of it on his tongue, catching anything that drips and sucking on your folds. “Always so fucking good…” He mutters, spreading you again and smearing more of your slick on his face by shaking his head between your thighs, so that he’s completely covered in you. 

When he moves his head, embarrassment comes over you, looking at his wet face… even his forehead was wet and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby but… I’ll be right back, stay wet for me.”

Your heart hammers against your chest, lying there on this now wet couch. You didn’t come over here for this and yet here you are… about to get fucked and really, it was no turning back now. You’d been on dates with men after Nanami but they never lasted past the second date and you certainly hadn’t had sex in a while, but he made you come apart like it was nothing.  

But then again, Nanami knew your body… so of course this was a walk in the park for him. It honestly annoyed you right now, you couldn’t even make yourself cum half the time especially these last few years and now, barely an hour here and he has you right where he wanted you… bare and practically back in love with him.

Nanami came back with a fresh face and unbuttoned pants that he was currently pulling down. You clenched around nothing, your mind thinking only of the perfect dick that was going to be coming out of those pants. You licked your lips, this would be the first dick you saw in years and it was his. 

His drooling cock slapped his stomach and you swallowed, your mouth felt unreasonably dry. The length of his cock always impressed you, standing tall at seven and a half inches, he shakes with laughter which snaps you out of your daze. “Now let me look at you.” His whispers and even though he already saw you, both years ago and right now, you can’t help but feel hot all over again. He’s staring – drawing his eyes down every inch of your body –  focusing on your breast before getting to the stare of the show yet again. He smirks, laying you back down, pressing his body against yours to kiss you. 

Your breath was caught in your throat, his tongue still tasted of you and his hands cups your jaw. He’s gentle, his tongue moving around your mouth messily before he stops, saliva breaking apart when he does so. His fingers make a ghostly featherlight touch on your clit that makes you jump, the head of his cock at your entrance. He holds out his hand, close to your mouth. “Spit.” Gathering up some, you spit in the palm of his hand and stroke it along his length, huffing at the sensation. 

He pushes in, taking his time to work himself inside of you, a strained expression on his face. Hips pulled back, he focuses more on just the tip of himself fucking you, watching your pussy stretch with just the tiniest bit of resistance. Inching himself inside, you watch his torso flex and he groans, obscene noises plop and plap around the apartment, his heavy cock pushing in and out of you, your toes curling. 

“Pussy still mines, right? Didn’t give it away, did you?” You’re struggling to talk - to fucking breathe - your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked but you babble out a soft ‘no’ which makes him finally thrust in you harder, completely bottoming out. You feel him in your belly, feeling full and embarrassingly wide with him stretching you out, his balls sitting on the crest of your ass before he moves. 

He moves you a bit, your bodies flush to each other and he moves his hips in harsh circles, his pelvis so close to your clit. His hands on your calves, he pushes your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, your knees touching your ears makes you tighten up and he groans above you.

“Nanami I-” You call out, eyes closed with pleasure shaking through your core, wetness slapping between the both of you. 

“Nanami? No, call me what you used to call me.” His hips slowed down, a whine escaping your lips. His cock dragging inside of your walls, pulling out slowly, awaiting your response. 

“Please…don’t slow down, Ken—” before the word even left your lips, his hand slapped your cunt, leaving your legs shaking a bit and your eyes snapping open. Drops of tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle, reaching for him… you couldn’t help but feel so small in his presence.

“Say it.” Then, you knew what he meant. A name that now feels foreign in your brain and even when it leaves your mouth, it comes out in a strange rattled whimper.

“Oh, oh… daddy, ‘m sorry. Please, keep fucking me. It’s so goooood!” He’s grinning before the words leave your mouth.

“Still my good girl huh? Always so fucking good for daddy.” He licks up your neck and it makes you tremble, your tongue lolling out a bit and he moves to suckle on it. “Did you skip over all those sex scenes or did you rub this pussy out to them?” He asks, his fingers digging in the back of your thighs. 

You choked out, sobbing, “I did, daddy… But I-I don’t want to remember everything.” 

“You don’t remember all the words I used to describe this cunt? This pretty pussy? That changed his life… my life? That made him always crawl back? That made him so fucking hard? The pretty words I used to describe you? To describe how pretty she always looked when he fucked her? How his heart felt like it was going to explode when she looked at him too long because he loved her so damn much?” He’s groaning in your ear, thrusting into you, his depth reaching your g-spot, your pussy spasming and begging for his cum at every word he uttered. 

Pumping himself inside, you could see the white creaminess that was on his cock, most likely because of you, he was constantly fucking the cream inside of you, your nails digged into his arms and he moaned at the feeling. Your stomach tightens and you move to push him away, “I’m going to c–cum!” You felt him throbbing inside of you, signaling that he was close too. “Please, cum inside of me… I can’t take it.” You couldn’t stand it any longer, it’s been years and you needed him to fill you up. He stopped for a moment, changing positions so that you’ll be sitting on his lap, grabbing your hips and forcibly bouncing you on his dick, dangerously slow. 

Wetness gushes on him as his tip hits you from a new angle, seeing the outline of him in your tummy, he’s stretching you again with each nasty thrust. Each drag of his cock making you go crazy and the aching between your legs continue, your body shaking and both of you moaning loudly and over each other. 

Finally, your orgasm rattled and shook your entire body, your pussy sucking him in, milking him for all he’s worth and it makes his body shake and he releases inside of you, trying to stay quiet as his body jerks up, unable to stop himself from fucking you through both of your orgasms.

It’s quiet for a while, just heavy breathing with you laying on his chest. “I love you too…” Your voice is scratchy and your face tear stained. He doesn’t say anything, his cock still pulsing inside of you.

“I know. I love you too, never stopped.” 

“Did you at least read the acknowledgements or did you just dive right in?”

“I never read the acknowledgements for books, thought you would’ve remembered that.” You watch him get up, walking around the living room, looking for something. You were both still naked and the entire room smelled of sex. 

“I did remember that and when you barged in my door, I already knew that you still hadn’t changed when it came to that. Here, read this part right here.” He brings you over a copy and you run your fingers around the softback cover with a small smile on your face; this silly thing had brought you both back together and right now you could give less than a fuck about those reviews. 

Feeling the spine of the book, you open it and can practically smell the scent of an unopened new book. Turning the first few pages, you go to the one page acknowledgment and read it aloud: “She might not read this book. But if she does, by chance. I hope she knows that I still love her.” You wiped your eyes and smiled. “You’re an asshole, you know?”

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I know baby.” Kissing the top of your head, he gets up and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and you follow him. “I think I have enough material to write a third book now.” He grabs his phone and starts typing, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Attempting to grab his phone he chuckles and uses his height to his advantage by standing taller.

Standing on the tips of your toes you snort, “Don’t even joke about that!” But a smile takes over your face and he can’t help but smile too. 

[jazjelspen]

scarlet and silver lining

(alastor w/ daughter reader)

(fem reader/notproofread!/apologies for anything ooc still trying to get used to writing fics again lol/possible part 1 after the epilogue)

[Prologue]

You never truly got along with your 'father', not even in life until the passing of his mother.. your grandmother.

Technically she wasn't exactly your grandmother, and Alastor wasn't your father.. at least not by blood but by adoption papers. Poor Nana, she just wanted a little grandbaby running around the house before her days started getting counted down.

Alastor knowing that he didn't want to go through the trouble of finding a wife nor did he want to deal with the issues that came with that let alone the process to conceive a kid, with a heart full yet a hesitant hand he then signed your papers.. adopted you for the kind old woman at the age of six.

Orphaned by your parents sudden passing, you never truly found out why or how they died. Only thing you knew was that it was sudden, unprovoked, unasked for. They were healthy yet from what you could hear from the cops that took you from your empty home was that there was blood, lots of it.

With no family to take care of poor little you, you got thrown in an orphanage and stayed there hoping to be rescued and loved someday.

Till one day a man with a large smile and clean-cut clothes walked in with a gentle old lady, both talking to one of the adults in charge of the place. Eventually while touring the building they managed to find you hidden in a corner reading a picture book, reading about a baby deer finding his way in the world without his mother, this intrigued the lady and she started to speak to you.

No matter how much the man tried to get the lady to start moving to look at more options she was so stuck to you, your innocent and your little voice attempting to use big words entranced her poor heart and in that moment she just knew you had to be her granddaughter. After she said the word, the adult responsible led them to talk more and sign papers and the rest is history.

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That was all you were willing to think far into when it came to your past, not wanting to remember what once was before falling into Hell.

You died around the 1940s, you followed in your fathers footsteps and created your own radio show before you died and being the daughter of Alastor in life had it's perks when he was famous in your home of New Orleans.

Although, you kept your secret deep in the ground when it came to your connection to Alastor. No way in hell would anyone know he was your adoptive father, you knew it'd only make you an even bigger target.

Especially to Vox, your boss and the demon that owned your soul.

Also the man that hated your father with his guts, but of course he didn't need to know any of that.

Your contract with him allowed you to be on his show, have a segment of it, get the royalties from it and be under his protection and his roof, in exchange you do any job he asks you to do no matter how hard or long it gets.

God did you hate transitioning from radio to TV, you were never fond of those color video boxes.. they lacked personality and were shallow in the content they produced. but hey, you needed to survive in hell somehow so why not just throw your soul to this TV guy to stay safe from the exterminations and other ruthless sinners.

You died around the time when the Radio Demon was barley getting the word out and showing his true power, the day you recognized his voice and heard his name blasted everywhere was when you knew he was worser than you thought, you didn't think he was this much of a sadist in life.. he must've hid it incredibly well from you then.

And you hated him for that.

Hated him for killing innocents, his sadistic tendencies, his power, his smile, his singing and his lies. His lies that he was your kind ol' dad that would do nothing wrong.

God.

But here you were now in present time being forced to be at the Hazbin Hotel by Vox.

Your hand currently leaning over to knock on the door ready to knock. You'd be warned that Alastor was here, and were warn to be more careful with your words and actions considering how badly Sir Pencious messed up before. This time bringing no technology with you but your head, memory, and a few things to sleep a few nights at this establishment. You were told that you would get more royalties and more perks like even getting your own show to rule over completely if you succeeded in this mission.. and god did you need your own place and studio so that Valentino didn't bother you any longer.

Your lips parted to let out a shaky sigh, a sweat bead running down your forehead down to the side of your face.

'c'mon ____, keep it together will ya?..' your thoughts scolded at you,

Your free hand wiped it away before finally knocking on the door of the hotel, hands shaky and your practiced smile of years

The door opening and being met with the princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar.

You could've sworn you felt the red eyes of a certain radio demon stare at you full force behind the princess's back.

Charlie gasped, seemingly more than ever excited to see someone new.

Your lips parted and started to move, you thoughts racing as you could feel more people stare from behind the royal.

You knew you'd regret doing this mission, Alastor being involved in it should've kept you away..

but if there was a chance to either get a solution to fully get away from the V's or to benefit from them if you did all this right, then so be it.

"Hello.. you must be Charlie right.. My name is ______ and I heard you are redeeming sinners? Your highness, I believe in your cause.. please help me relieve myself of my sins."

Your hands went from holding your luggage to clasping together with a face full of worry and a need to get better. Even you were unsure if you meant what you said, but you just knew that you knew what you had to do no matter what.. you would benefit from this somehow.

"Please, let me redeem yourself in your Hazbin Hotel, Princess Morningstar."

(hello readers!! thank you so much for taking a look at this epilogue of a possible new pic series! I actually made this fanfic almost three years ago on quotev but I want to bring it to life in a different fashion and new writing, so I hope you can stick around till the end of this series!!)

[lacyscabinet]

im so sick of the pure smut too,,, you should do a fall vibe fic where theyre both cold and trying to warm each other up or something

A/N: I feel you anon, I mean, I'm okay with smut I just don't read it because of personal preference😭😭 BUT IT'S LITERALLY ALL I SEE UNDER THE ELLIE TAG. Anyway, I love this request THANK YOUUU<333 also I'm veeeeeery new to the tlou fandom on tumblr so let me know if ya'll like my writing and PLEASE let me know how I can improve, feedback even if negative is always appreciated over here!!! I wish all of you an amazing day/evening/whatever time it is in the timezone you're in!!!🤍🤍🤍

Absolutely not proofread!!!

NAVIGATION

PICTURES TAKEN FROM PINTEREST!!! CREDITS TO THE OWNERS!!!

Free radiator

The wind howled outside as you made your way to Ellie’s garage, the icy air biting the skin of your cheeks. You wrapped your scarf tighter around your neck, shivering as you pushed open the heavy door. Inside, the dim light from the lamp Joel had put in the room illuminated a bunch of scattered items and clothes thrown on the floor. Let's just say that Ellie wasn't exactly the best at keeping her room tidy.

“Hey, you made it!” Ellie’s voice broke through the silence, warm and inviting, bold contrast to the chill that still reigned in the garage.

She was sitting on her old couch with a steaming mug in her hands. Her hair was tousled, and her cheeks were slightly flushed from the cold.

“Barely!" You chuckled, rubbing your hands together for warmth "It’s freezing out there, my fingers were about to fall off.”

Ellie laughed “Come here, I’ve got hot tea. It’ll warm you up.” She patted the space next to her, and you felt a rush of happiness as you moved closer.

You took the mug from her, savoring the rich . As you sipped, the warmth spread through you, melting away the cold as you quietly thanked her with a kiss on the cheek.

After finishing your drink, you looked around the garage, and a shiver ran through your body. “What should we do to warm this place up?"

“Blankets!” she declared, getting up from her seat. She rummaged through a nearby drawer, finally pulling out a colorful quilt that looked like it had seen better days.

You couldn’t help but laugh when she wrapped the fabric around you two, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth. “This is much better,” you said, snuggling closer to her side.

Ellie grinned, her eyes shining. “See? Who needs a fancy heater when you’ve got blankets..." she paused for a second and then looked up at you "...and me?”

“True, you're my personal radiator ” you teased, leaning your head against her shoulder.

You just relaxed in her warmth, closing your eyes and smiling when Ellie's hand reached behind you to rub your back.

But at one point, Ellie reached into her pocket "I was almost forgetting" she said while revealing a small silver bracelet "I saw this on patrol, it made me think of you” she said, her cheeks a shade of pink.

Your heart fluttered as you took the bracelet, adorned with a couple of little plant shaped charms “Ellie, this is beautiful!” you exclaimed, slipping it onto your wrist.

Suddenly, she stiffed a laugh.

"What?" You asked confused

"The plants charms remind of when we climbed on that stupid tree last summer" she said, her voice softening.

You both laughed, the memory of the reckless climb still fresh in your mind. “And you fell down on Joel's flowerbed” you added, grinning.

“Okay, okay! Enough about that!” she said, playfully shoving you.

After that, you weren't exactly sure of how the situation evolved but a wrestling match soon started between the two of you, trying to claim more of the quilt. You squealed, both of you laughing as you tangled together in the blanket, your hearts racing.

Eventually, you both collapsed back against the plush couch, breathless and smiling. The cold seemed more bearable now.

After a few moments of quiet, you turned to Ellie, your voice soft. “I’m really glad we have this time together" you whispered, thinking of all the time she had to leave early for patrol only to come back home late, and of course, exhausted. Not leaving much time for the two of you.

"You make everything feel right.”

Ellie’s eyes twinkled as she brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

She just smiled.

As you shared that quiet moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you.

With a content sigh, you leaned into her, giving her a kiss, letting the warmth of her presence envelop you as the wind made the leaves dance outside the window. And right there, in that old and cold garage, you knew you were exactly where you belonged.

A/n: this was so much fun 😭 let me know what you guys think 🤍🤍🤍🤍 MUAH

[simpingforheros]

Bring Me To Life

Pairing: Arkham Knight!Jason Todd x Female! Reader

Summary: Destroy the Batman and get his companion back? Jason almost didn't believe Slade until... Warnings: Usage of female pronouns, Nudity (NO smut), Swearing, Character Death, Angst, Resurrection, Infantization ( I didn't know how to better describe this), Unhealthy relationship dynamics, Kinda Dark/Obsessive! Jason, Mentions Electroshock therapy, Implied Brainwashing, Slade being a creep, Mentions of Drug Abuse, Mentions of Child Neglect, Mentions of Child Homelessness and unsafe situations, SPOILERS for Death in the Family (Comic 1988) and Arkham Knight.

Author's Note: Hiya Everyone, This is the first fanfic I've written in a while and the christianing fic for this account. I may start a casual little series with this, but I don't know yet. Also any comic and game inaccuracies are either because I forgot or I adjusted it to fit the story.

Also while this post is mostly safe for work, MINORS DNF AND PLEASE READ WARNINGS. I DO NOT AUTHORIZE ANYONE TO STEAL MY WORK OR REPOST IT ON OTHER SITES.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was supposed to be him...

Those dark nights he had spent alone on the streets as a child didn't seem so bad looking back on it. Jason understood struggle even when he had lived with his parents who spent grocery money on alcohol and drugs. Living on the streets didn't feel so much worse, especially since he had... "Jason, Mr. Accetta gave me some scraps from dinner rush today! There's even a whole pizza in here!"

Her. His one friend had since he was thrown into this harsh world. She was the only person he knew at the time to never stop smiling or finding a positive outlook on things. He couldn't even remember when they met, but he could hardly remember them being apart.

Whether he was stealing or fighting, she was there as a faithful lookout or a willing accomplice. She taught him how to take tires off of cars like her granddad taught her and he taught her how to throw a punch like his dad used to throw. An unstoppable duo who ran the alley as well as two 11-year-olds could.

The harsh winter nights they spent crowding together were his favorite memories from that time. Even with the bite of Gotham's winds at their toes, his partner would never falter to talk about anything and everything as he listened. She would talk about her dead grandparents a lot and all the stories she had with them before they passed away, but his mind couldn't recall them at all. He just remembers the constant dream that she told him every night.

"One day, Jay, I'm gonna have enough money and get an apartment in Old Gotham..." Jason's nose turns up as he listens to his friend as he bites on his food. "Why Old Gotham? Isn't it just falling apart?"

She giggles as she pulls the oversized coat closer to her shivering body. The jacket was from a relative but the fabric lost those memories as its fibers were now bones. She still had it even after she left the streets...

"Because it's the most beautiful place in the world...I will get an apartment someday and you and I will live there. We can even get like a cat or something."

The familiar burn on Jason's face blooms as he asks, "Why would you want me there?"

"Because it wouldn't be my dream home unless you're there with me."

He wouldn't find out until a few years later that her grandparents used to live in Old Gotham until her grandfather died and her grandmother had to move as she would unknowingly follow her husband not even a year later...

Those nights in the streets melted into nights spent in the warmth of Wayne manor. As the two thieves became kings after a faithful night with the Batmobile, Jason was brought into the world of crime fighting along with his closest friend. As they trained and donned their capes, She would show a new side of herself to Jason. The overly happy young girl from the streets became an anxious teenager as he became angerier.

"Jason..." Her voice woke him up in the darkest of nights. His body ached from the nightly fights from the previous day as he turned to see a familiar sight.

A now 14-year-old Y/N standing in the crack of the door. Her fidgeting figure indicated all he needed to know before he raised his blanket as she scurried to get in the bed. This was a ritual that started when they moved in. Both would grow anxious at night as they went from the open streets to a large, confining manor. Alfred almost had given up on trying to scold the teens as they were found sharing a bed more times than being separated.

As she curled into his side as much as she could without hurting him, he could practically hear her mind tinkering as her E/C eyes stared into his chest.

There wasn't the need to discuss what was on her mind. At least not right now. She was concerned about the growing tension between Bruce and Jason. He was becoming reckless and Bruce was having none of it with her often getting dragged into the middle of the fights.

He hated that he never tried more...

It shouldn't have surprised him when all the conflict had finally caused a break in the family. Especially when Jason began looking for his birth mother. Y/N tried to be supportive of him as he investigated his leads. Those leads eventually led to Jason reuniting with Bruce as he investigated a possible arms trade in Lebanon. The reconciliation and the prospect of finding his mother left him blind to any form of common sense, but what kind of common sense could a fifteen-year-old make in the life they lived?

He should have listened to her concerns when they finally found Sheila Haywood, his real mother. Y/N had a bad feeling from the start but he dismissed her worries. Jason had no clue that the night he was supposed to meet with Sheila was gonna end up being one of the worst nights of his life....

"Jason, maybe you should wait for Bruce to be here so he can come with you." She suggested softly.

His eyes roll as he adjusts his costume. "Because it's none of his business. I'm just meeting with my mom and talking out some stuff..."

He didn't tell her about the blackmailing he witnessed earlier that day between his mother and the Joker. But, he would find out later that she already knew about it through Bruce.

Her hand reaches for his shoulder and pulls him around to face her. "I'm serious. You shouldn't meet with a woman you barely know in some fucking warehouse in the middle of nowhere!"

Jason can remember the hurt he felt when he heard her snap at him, Oh, how angry he got with her when all she wanted was to protect him. He remembers yelling at her the worst thing he thought he could say to her.

Why the fuck did he ever say that to her?

"I'm sorry your parents didn't want anything to fucking do with you, but I'm not gonna let your bitter ass ruin my shot to be with mine."

He remembers the hurt that filled her eyes and the string of regret pooling in his gut. With a fake smile on her face and tears pooling in her eyes, Y/N says softly,

"Okay...I'm sorry," The sharp sting in his neck as she pressed the vial of sedatives Bruce gave her into his veins. "I'm sorry to do this, Jason, but Bruce said you wouldn't go down that easily."

Jason couldn't remember what he said after the spark of betrayal hit him, but he hated himself that the last time he saw those eyes they were clouded with the tears he caused....

"Y/N! Please talk to me!" Jason begs into the coms as he rod on the back of the motorbike with Bruce.

He should have known. Her instincts are never wrong and he doubted her.

When Bruce found him unconscious and told him about how Joker was involved in all of this, Jason should have known that it was all a trap. His mother wasn't a poor blackmailed soul, she was a conniving bitch who profitted.

He also should have known that Y/N was gonna go meet with Sheila instead of him. Where the Joker was waiting for her.

"Y/N, please. Please be okay...." He begged to the coms as he can only think about what he said to her the last time they spoke.

"J...Jason...."

"Y/N!" Relief washed over him like a wave as he heard her voice. Her broken pained moaned of his voice made him sick as he tried to at least rationalized that at least she was alive. "Don't worry, honey. We know where you are and we're coming to help you."

He didn't know that she was laying battered and broken against the locked door as she stared at the bomb that was ticking away on the wall. Her labored breaths blocked out the ticking on the comms as she whispers out.

00:12

"Do you remember the apartment?..."

"What apartment? The one you talked about in the alley? Why are you-?"

She interupts him, he can hear the familiar curl of her smile in her pained voice as she whispered,

"I wanted it to have a window facing the east end...the stars always looked pretty over there..."

00:10

"Y/N, what are you-"

"I wanted one of those Tabby-looking cats like the ones we saw in the alleyway outside of Mr. Accetta's restaurant...Name it Frank after that old Italian fucker...I was hoping we could go back and actually buy dinner in that restaurant someday..."

00:08

"Are you okay? Why are you talking like this? We are almost there. I can see the building! We are almost here. I'M COMING TO SAVE YOU."

Jason's desperation was palpable as he heard his beloved talk like she was on her deathbed. His panic causes Bruce to drive faster as the Batcycle inches closer to the warehouse. "Jason"

00:04

"Jason, I love you...I have since I was 13..." She admits as her voice trembles. "I used to dream we would become the family we always wanted with each other...Thank you for being in my life and I'm sorry I let you down..."

00:03

"Y/N, I -"

00:02

"Wait!"

00:01

"Goodbye, Jason..."

.

.

.

It should have been him who died that night... It was supposed to be him. NOT HER.

Jason blamed himself for her death as soon as he helped pull her broken corpse out of the rubble. He tried to convince himself that it wasn't her. This wasn't his Batgirl. Not his best friend who would run around the manor with him or help him pickpocket pedo freaks on the street. This broken little girl that was in his adoptive father's arms wasn't his first love. She was a bright, kind light who protected her loved ones, not this broken shell who wore her skin...

But, it was her...

He blamed Bruce for it too. He was the one gave her the orders to keep Jason away from the warehouse. He had to have known that she was gonna go instead. Bruce should have known she was because she wanted to be wrong about Sheila so Jason could be happy...

He also blamed the Joker. He wanted that Clown dead... His opportunity presents itself after he tracks Joker down to an abandoned wing of Arkham trying to flee from blowing up a children's hospital.

Blinded by his rage and bloodlust, Jason went in alone and without any communication. Y/N would scold him in her grave as he fell for the trap, sealing him in a cycle of hell for a year.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"What if I could?"

"Do what?"

"Bring her back. Would you be willing to work for Crane if I could bring back the little Batgirl?"

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

He knew it was bullshit.

Bringing back someone from the dead was impossible.

Jason would have been satisfied if his pseudo-partner/ prisoner, Deathstroke, just told him that he would be able to kill the Batman and wipe the hell hole that is Gotham off the face of the earth. He already dedicated a full year after his escape from Arkham to building his army.

His only regret during this time was not killing Joker himself. Even after all the torture and pain that clown did to him, he regretted not bashing the Joker's skull in after their last encounter as Slade helped him escape. It wouldn't have mattered to him at the time that Slade would have killed him because it wouldn't have been revenge for his own torture.

it would have been for Y/N. For the hell she faced that night. After a few months in Arkham, Jason almost accepted his torture as punishment for not dying that day for her because he experienced everything she felt. Every day he experienced everything she had to feel those short agonizing hours for an entire year. She must have been so scared and Jason couldn't save her.

The only thing that kept him from giving up was the memories he had of her and the burning hatred for those who caused her light to be snuffed out too soon.

He just wanted to feel that warmth again...

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"If you can do that, then I'll burn the whole world to the ground for that fucking lunatic."

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

"Please Jason. Let us help you!" Barbara Gordan begged from her cell as Jason snaps at her.

"THERE IS NO HELPING! I CAN FIX IT!"

Jason was manic. His men were being tugged around like dog toys by Batman and Slade had left him hours ago to attend some matter he didn't care to ask about. His time was running thin and he knows he needs to end this soon. It didn't help that those he didn't want involved are here as well like Barbara.

"Sir..." A militia soldier says as he nervously walks into the room. HIs men were already aware how stupid it was to come near him when he's in a crazed anger. Jason's head whipped at him like a feral man as he grits out.

"What is it?"

"Deathstroke is here...and he uh..."

Impatience reaches a boiling point as Jason raises his gun and shoots the militia solider in the head as Barbara shrieks. The red puddle of death fills the sterile room with lead as Deathstroke walts in. Jason turns his back towards him as places his helmet back into place.

"My, what a mess you made." Deathstroke mockingly scolds. The hidden smirk almost causes Jason to snap again.

"Where have you been? Batman is out there taking down my tanks faster than my men can repair them. You told m-!"

The Arkham Knight's monologue was intruppted as he turns to scold Slade by his heart dropping to his stomach at the sight before him. He swore that if he didn't hear Barbara's gasp and the whisper of fate's name, he would have woken up back in that dreaded wing of Arkham Asylum.

Slade chuckles as he rattles the chain in his hand as he says coyly, "What? Am I not allowed to go fetch your payment?"

Standing behind Deathstroke was a naked woman. Her tangled up (H/C) hair ran down her shoulders as her wide innocent eyes shined through the now white tendrils framing her face. Her body seemed more mature but all muscle mass she had was faded. Her face seemed aged but he recognized the curve of her nose and those lips he imagined smiling at him through his darkest moments.

"Y/N?" He helplessly calls out to her as he feels himself pulled towards her like a magnet.

If it wasn't for the stark white streak and gnarly, painful-looking scars on her body, Jason would have thought this was Scarecrow's fear toxin. It couldn't be possible, right? She was dead. He knew she was because he held her body. He felt how cold she was and watched how her lifeless eyes looked up to the ash ridden sky.

Those eyes now looked at him with no familiarity, but a childlike wonder as she naively smiles at him.

"How?" Was all the Arkham Knight could muster as he reaches to grab her. To pull her into his arms and never let her leave.

Deathstroke grabs the collar that was wrapped around her neck and yanks her back behind him as she chokes on her breath. He chuckles as he looks back into Jason's voiceless mask.

"The Lazarus Pit brought back her body." He explains as he hauntingly twirls the chain in his hand. "Of course, after you agreed to work with Crane, I brought her back immediately. Unfortunately, the poor thing suffered from Pit Madness."

A cruel smirk appears on Deathstrokes lips as he pushes the girl's hair back to reveal circular scars on her temples. Jason felt rage bubbling up in his throat as he recognized what those scars were.

Prolonged Electroshock Therapy

"You sick!" Before Jason could throw a punch, Slade places his gun on Y/N's forehead as he chuckles. The woman didn't even sense the danger as she continued to observe everyone with a curious eye. Jason immediately backs off as Slade continues.

"Of course. Her treatment did cause her to be cured of the madness but at the cost of her memories. She barely remembers how to take care of herself so you make it like that. Especially when you want to fuck her."

Jason was thankful for his mask as he would have killed him from his glare. To imply that she was just a potential fucktoy made him itch to bury this man in the deepest bowels of hell. As he quietly glares at him, Slade finally offers him the chain. The Arkham Knight accepts the chain as the assassin warns him,

"Now since you got your payment. You better keep your end of the deal..." His voice becomes threatening as he says.

"Because I can easily kill her just as I brought her back.'"

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AN: I was gonna write more, but I got exhausted so this is all I got. Let me know if it's a vibe or not.

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@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT AUTHORIZE THE COPYING, STEALING, OR REPOSTING OF MY WORKS ON OTHER WEBSITES WITHOUT CREDIT.

[navybrat817]

What Happens in Vegas

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas. Word Count: Over 2.8k Warnings: Drinking, drunk wedding, accidental marriage, supernatural element, dubcon elements, soft!dark vibes, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I wasn't able to get all 4 birthday stories done, but I hope you lovelies enjoy the ones I plan to share. Here's 1 of 2! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer as well for letting me scream about this. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The fluorescent lights of the strip flashed as you stumbled along the sidewalk. Fast paced and surreal, the city that never sleeps offered a little something for everyone. Entertainment, architecture, adventure. While your intention for the evening was to grab a drink with some friends and nothing more, you decided to do something bolder. Crazier. Because what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas, right?

“Goin’ to the chapel and we’re… gonna get maaaaaaried,” you sang, squinting as your guy, date, whoever he was, helped steady you. “Who or what was your name again? Randy?”

“That’s not my name. It’s-”

“Randy. ‘Cause you’re a rando,” you declared, making him laugh.

Forgetting the guy’s name should’ve been your first clue to call it a night and go back to your hotel. Randy was cute enough though and bought all of you drinks. When you told him most of your friends were hitched or close to getting married while you were still single, he joked that he’d marry you.

“Fuck it! Let’s get married!”

Which was how you found yourself on his arm heading to a chapel.

Your second clue to go back to your room should’ve been that none of your friends stopped you. Not a single one told you to stay or offered to go with you, which was strange. Not that each of you hadn’t done stupid stuff before. Letting you go off with a stranger though? In an unfamiliar city?

Bitches. All of them. Noooooo. I love my girlfriends. They’re just DRUNK, like me.

You did feel sad for a second. While your friends all had family who would’ve thrown a fit if they eloped or married a stranger, you didn’t. Your dad would never give you away. Your mom wouldn’t wipe her tears as she heard you say your vows. So who cared what you did?

You sure as hell didn’t.

“Here,” Randy said, pulling you toward a door. “This place is supposed to be really nice.”

“OOOOOOOOH. Reeeeeeeally nice,” you said, gasping once you stepped inside.

You expected cheesy decor to smack you in the face, but instead found yourself in a luxurious entryway. Sparkles of gold lined the sleek floor and walls all the way up to the high ceilings. The art depicted landscapes you only had the pleasure of seeing in dreams. The room almost had a glow to it.

Or maybe it's the alcohol blurring my vision.

A voluptuous redhead walked through a set of doors to greet you. Her heels didn’t make a sound as she glided across the floor. Glancing at Randy, you caught him adjusting the front of his pants. Was he drooling? You found it amusing rather than let it upset you.

“Welcome to the Enchanted Valley where all your dreams come true. My name is Natalia. How may I help you this evening?”

“We’re getting married,” Randy answered, though he didn’t glance at you.

“Is that so?” she asked, tilting her head as she turned her attention to you. The gold from the walls sparkled in her eyes as she waited for your confirmation.

Swaying a little, you gave her a two finger salute. “That is so,” you answered before you added, “Do you also do annulments?”

Snorting, she gestured behind her. “Before we get started, you must be at least 18 years old, must not be currently married, must not be kin, and I’ll need to see a government form of identification. As long as that’s clear, you’re free to proceed with your ceremony. Do you have witnesses?"

“No ‘cause my bitchy friends didn’t come here. I don’t even have flowers,” you said, hiccuping a little. “Don’t tell them I call them that. I love them soooooooooo much.”

“That’s just fine. I’ll ask James and Wanda if they wouldn’t mind witnessing this…” Natalia tried to find the word as her eyes darted between you. “Blessed union.”

Randy followed Natalia like a lost puppy into the chapel as he struggled to get his wallet out. “You single?”

Your eyes rolled in the back of your head. “Why am I doing this?” you mumbled, swaying as you dug your wallet out. “Why didn’t I just get a tattoo or something?”

“Because a ring on your finger is easier to remove than ink on your skin.”

“Holy fucking… fuck,” you said as you looked up. “Where did you come from, you… gorgeous specimen?”

You understood why Randy practically eye-fucked Natalia since you were doing the same with the man in front of you. His steel blue eyes reflected the gold of the room the same way the redhead’s had and you were scared you’d fall into an abyss if you stared for too long. His light brown hair had to be the softest you’d ever seen. If you had to guess, he was at least 6’4” with a broad chest and shoulders and didn’t have the audacity to button up his shirt.

Is his left arm made out of gold? Or is it painted gold? How drunk am I? Would Randy object to me giving this god of a man the ride of his life?

“I’m James,” he said, the timbre of his voice causing your knees to wobble as he held up a bouquet of colorful flowers. “I’ll be one of the witnesses for this blessed union.”

“Nothing blessed about it. I don’t even know the guy. But he said he’d marry me and I said ‘fuck it,” you giggled, taking a step forward. Your shoe caught on nothing. Nothing. You just fell forward.

And the beautiful man caught you in his embrace.

“Careful, beautiful,” he said as he helped you stand upright and placed the flowers in your hand. His touch warmed you as he ran his hands along your bare arms. “You would marry a stranger then? With no friends or family here?”

“You smell really good. How do you smell so good?” You said, putting a hand on his chest with a grin. “Friends are busy and I have no family.”

His brows furrowed and you wondered how pathetic you sounded. You weren’t looking for pity. “Did he give you any token of affection?”

“Mmmmm. You know, he didn’t. We don’t have rings or anything.”

James traced a finger along your cheek. “And he dares to call himself a man,” he whispered, tutting when you leaned into his touch. “Doesn’t seem like he's fit to marry such a delectable creature.”

Eat me up, James.

“It’s okay,” you said, hoping the sad feelings of alcohol weren’t about to hit you. It sucked being alone and you knew you’d come to regret this later, but who cared about tonight? “Do you have gold streaks in your hair? Why are you so pretty? It’s like you’re not even REAL.”

“I’m very real, beautiful,” he smiled, flashing his pearly white teeth as your cheeks got hot. “Do I have the pleasure of knowing your full name?”

“My full name? So formal,” you teased, giving it to him without hesitation as you ran your fingers through his hair. You should’ve asked permission before touching his soft hair. You shouldn’t have touched him at all. But logic left your mind the moment you stepped into the city.

James closed his eyes as he repeated your name, making it sound erotic and sensual. You liked hearing it on his tongue. “You will not marry him,” he whispered, opening his eyes. A ring of gold surrounded his pupils before it went away. Maybe one of the girls slipped a little something into your drink to help you relax more.

Whatever it is, I want more of it.

“Tell you what,” you smiled, booping his nose with a giggle. “If you object with good reason, I won’t marry Randy Rando. Deal?”

James smirked after a moment, a darkness clouding his eyes as he stepped back to shake your hand. “Deal.”

Before you shook it, you noticed a gold ring on the floor by his foot. Did he drop it? “Is that yours?” you said, crouching down to grab it. It wasn’t very dignified how your dress rode up, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Here.”

He didn’t take it from you. “It is mine, but do you not wish to keep it?”

You frowned, confused as you glanced at the band. It had some sort of lettering around the solitaire diamond that you didn’t recognize. “This isn’t ‘finders keepers’. It’s yours. It’s nice, but it’s rude of me to take it.”

With a low hum, he accepted the ring back. “There aren’t many who would return something of value,” he said, slipping it on his right pinky finger. “You have a giving heart.”

“Oh, it… It was nothing,” you said, shrugging a little to hide how badly you wanted to preen at his compliment.

I’m really acting like I’ve never seen a good looking guy before.

He kept an intense gaze on you as he slipped a hand into his pants pocket and pulled out a small stone. It would’ve looked like a normal pebble if not for the gold speckles. “I know this may not look special, but would you take this as a token for giving my ring back?”

Whaaaaaaaat?

“Um. Yeah. Sure. Thanks,” you said, tucking the stone into your purse before you selected a flower from your bouquet. “Would you accept this from me?” you asked, wanting to do something nice.

A pleased look crossed his face as he took the flower and inhaled. Your head spun a little. Something felt different, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. “Thank you,” he said, running his teeth along his bottom lip as he fixed the bottom of your dress. “You really are the most beautiful bride.”

“And you, James, you beautiful, gorgeous, sexy, god of a man, will make the hottest groom when you get married.”

“Hey!” Randy shouted from the chapel when James opened his mouth. “We doing this or what?”

Oh, yeah.

“Wish me luck!” you said, giggling as you went through the doors and not looking back to see if he followed. “Wow.”

It was as if you stepped into an enchanted forest. The colors of the room were lush and welcoming, a blend of evergreen and sage. Flickering fairy lights and flowers adorned the dark brown pues. Natalia stood in front of Randy and a slender woman you didn’t recognize sat on his side of the chapel. The lights were playing tricks on you again when she looked at you, her eyes a flash of red as she smiled.

That must be Wanda. And I’m never drinking again.

“Ready?” Randy questioned when you got to the end of the aisle.

How romantic.

“Yeah, I guess,” you shrugged, looping your arm with his as you held your bouquet. “Take it away, Natalia.”

“Dearly beloved,” she began.

Truthfully, you didn’t pay much attention to the ceremony as Natalia spoke. You didn’t question that she hadn’t looked at your identification card or confirmed anything else she named off. It probably wasn’t a real wedding ceremony. You weren’t going to be Mrs. Randy Rando.

Not when James is here. Wait, what?

“If there are no objections,” Natalia spoke, glancing over your shoulder. “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“I object,” James announced behind you, making you cover your mouth as you giggled. He did say he’d object with good reason. You wondered what he’d come up with.

“On what grounds?” Natalia asked, smirking as if she expected him to interrupt.

“Because she’s my wife,” he answered.

What the hell did he just say?

“What?!” You laughed louder as you spun around, falling against Randy with wide eyes.

"What's wrong?" He asked, barely holding you upright.

James walked down the aisle toward you, a gold shine covering him from head to toe. Pointy ears stuck out through his hair and his eyes had a hypnotic glow as he smiled at you, his teeth sharper than before. He looked like a beautiful nightmare.

Ready to eat you up.

“You can see me as I really am, beautiful, can’t you?” He asked, a melodic lift in his tone that was both sinister and alluring. “Glamour doesn’t work on mates.”

...the fuck?

“M-Mates? We’re mates? What does that even mean?” You asked, looking at Randy for help. His eyes had a glossy glaze to them, like he wasn’t seeing you. Was he in shock? Did he know what was going on? “Dude, snap out of it. Look at his gold skin! And his pointy ears!”

“She can see you,” Natalia said with pride. “Congratulations, Bucky. You’re finally married.”

“Thank you, Natasha,” James smiled, waving a hand at Randy. His nails looked sharp enough to claw through his skin. “Get rid of him. He’s crowding my bride.”

“I’m… I’m way too drunk for this,” you mumbled, your knees giving out. With unnaturaul speed, he made his way to the end of the aisle and caught you.

“Hey! That’s my…” Randy looked confused as he blinked. “Well, she's not my girlfriend, but. Huh?”

“No, she isn’t your girlfriend. She’s my wife. And when you wake up tomorrow, you won’t remember being here,” he said, nodding over to Wanda. “I’d wipe your memory myself, but I’m not letting my mate go.”

“The fuck are you…” he trailed off when Wanda waved her hand, a ball of red light floating in front of his face.

“You sleep now,” she said as the light touched his forehead, not bothering to brace his fall as he collapsed.

“What the hell?” You slurred as Natalia grabbed his ankles to drag him out of the chapel, Wanda on her heel.

“I wouldn’t worry about him since you accepted my hand in marriage,” James said, touching your cheek with a fond smile. “I’m sorry for not courting you longer, but we didn’t exactly have much time, did we?”

“We’re not married,” you argued.

“By Fae law, we are,” he explained as your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. Did he say Fae? “You returned something of value to me that I dropped, which was you saying ‘yes’ to my marriage proposal.”

“No,” you whispered. That couldn’t be true.

“You accepted my token of my affection, which was me pledging myself as your husband. And you gave me a token of affection in return, which was you pledging yourself as my wife.”

The stone. The flower. No. Fucking. Way.

“I don’t understand,” you whimpered as he propped you up in his arms.

“I wanted a bride, so I came here. You’d be surprised how much of my kind has infiltrated this city. We do love our realm, but your people are so easy to manipulate,” he said, gesturing to the room. “Gambling, drinking, strippers, quick weddings. You just throw your hard-earned money away like it’s meaningless. Your currency goes a long way where I’m from.”

“I want to go home,” you said as he tightened his hold on you, even stronger than he looked.

“You didn’t see me at the bar tonight, but I saw you. I knew you were destined for me,” he continued happily as if you didn’t say anything. “And when he suggested marrying you on a whim, I made sure your friends didn’t try to stop you and that your path led here. Don't worry. They're safe. I wouldn't harm them.”

Who is he? What is he?

You shook your head, surprised that you hadn’t gotten sick from how your stomach turned. “I’m not your wife,” you said, trembling when his entire body began to glow.

“You are not just my wife. You are my queen. Even if you hadn’t accepted my token of affection, I wouldn’t have let you marry someone whose name wasn’t worth remembering. You’re mine,” he said through his teeth, angry at you denying him before he took a breath. “My poor bride. A woman with no family and friends who don’t look out for her. You have me now. And you’ll be happy by my side.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping by some miracle a bit of pain would wake you up. But the creature who called himself your husband wasn’t going away. “This is a bad dream,” you whispered, as if lying to yourself would help.

“Oh, my love,” he said in false comfort. “There are no bad dreams in the Enchanted Valley. And this isn’t the Vegas you know where you can simply write this off as a mistake. There is no divorce in my world. Well, your world now.”

“James, please,” you begged as your heart pounded.

“We’re married now, beautiful. Call me Bucky,” he smiled, smothering your protest with a kiss. Heat spread along your lips and flowed through your veins, wrapping around your heart like a vice. It was enough to suffocate you, but fate wasn’t ready to claim your life yet. “Now sober up. We have a honeymoon to start.”

I couldn't tag Bucky as "fae" without giving some of the surprise away! This idea was inspired by @adayka's beautiful art here. Maybe we can revisit this new couple down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[envysparkler]

so this.  this would be one of the nightwing longfics.  the long, character-driven fic that I wish I had time to write but alas.

the crux of this fic is when Tim goes to ask Dick to return to save Batman from his grief, Dick agrees.

Nightwing coming back to Gotham.  fighting, every day, to keep Bruce from self-destructing in a manor so full of grief that sometimes he sits in empty rooms and cries.  Dick that can’t visit Jason’s grave, it’s too painful, but sometimes he sleeps on the couch in the library and pretends like his little brother is sitting on the other couch and reading.  and Nightwing also needs to deal with this precocious twelve-year-old who might not be Robin but thinks that it is perfectly reasonable to stalk them around Gotham.

it’s hard.  it’s so, so hard.  Dick losing pieces of himself, bit by bit.  he sees hallucinations of Jason and eventually, the hallucinations are the only things he talks to truthfully.  he has to keep Bruce sane while Bruce keeps lashing out at him.  Alfred’s not getting younger.  Barbara’s furious and upset and grieving what happened to her.  Tim has no parental supervision, what the fuck is going on with this kid, Dick needs to watch out for him too.

it’s slow, but the pressure just keeps piling on.

meanwhile, the people he’s helping start to get better.  Bruce notices their baby stalker, figures out Tim’s situation, and puts in immediate paperwork to get temporary guardianship.  (Dick still hasn’t been adopted.  it’s fine.  he doesn’t care.  he doesn’t.)  Barbara recovers and becomes Oracle, a saving grace to the wider caped community.  (she’s so busy.  Dick just wants a friend to talk to.  please.)  Tim is introduced to the Titans and makes fast friends with them.  (the Titans were Dick’s first but they’re gone, all gone, why does everyone keep leaving him.)

and then there’s a mention of a new crime lord on the scene, Red Hood, who’s looking to shake things up.

things build and build and build, Hood taunting them and Bruce’s suspicions and Tim’s stalking, until it reaches a breaking point.

a warehouse.  Batman and Red Hood and Tim and Dick.  everyone is shouting at each other, yelling at each other, accusations flying, emotional barbs thrown.  Dick trying to keep the peace and failing.

maybe someone snaps something that wounds.  maybe Dick just collapses under his own exhaustion.  either way, he gives up.  he walks away.  he can’t do this anymore.

no one notices him leave.

Dick leaves his suit in the Cave and writes a short note explaining that he’s quitting.

he’s done.

this world--Gotham and Batman and all the heroes and villains--has taken too much from him. he’s barely twenty-one and yet he’s lived lifetimes.  he’s shouldered the weight of the entire world on his shoulders for so long he cannot remember what it feels like to fly without a net.

he returns to the first place he called home.  there’s a Flying Grayson at Haley’s Circus again.

[snowbellewells]

🎃~A Little Bit Spooky Seasonal Rec List ~🎃

Hello there!  Seeing as it’s nearly Halloween, I thought I would post this themed list of fics I absolutely love that fit the season of thrills and chills, or have at least a hint of the supernatural about them. (Most do anyway, there are a couple that are just full of fall things and autumn coziness.) This is by no means extensive - no matter how much I read, I’m sure I’ll never catch all of the amazing stories our Ouat/CS fandom has to offer!! Still, here’s hoping folks may find a few "new to them" favorites for the season! Enjoy!!

**I originally made this list in 2020, so none have been taken away but more have been added in since that time.**

In no particular order...

“High Spirits” by: ReaperWriter  This story is older, but it features Emma as a former detective forced into early retirement and Killian as a medium (of sorts?). They end up investigating the rumored haunting of an old manor house in Louisiana. Thrills and chills, genuine bittersweetness and melancholy, and emotional connection ensue.  13 Chapters, Complete

“Of Dreams and Darkness” by: @oubliette14  This one is another I’ve know about for some time, and read and re-read more than once. It reminds me a little bit of the monster mash-up movie Van Helsing (though I actually like it more than that) and has Emma and Killian as vampire hunters, teaming up to take on the worst monster either has tackled yet... Long oneshot, Complete 

“Things That Go Bump” by: @brooke-to-broch  This is just a fun, festive CS celebrating Halloween in their own home with all the hilarity involved in including their friends and family - with a bit of spicy goodness between just the two of them thrown in for good measure.  Oneshot, Complete

"Into the Light", "Hotel Neverland", "The Moon...Tells the Sea", "In the Viper's Den" and "Return to Me" by: @kmomof4 It will be clear if a person has read any of these offerings already that Krystal has a knack for the vampire fics in particular, her previous @cssns event offerings "Into the Light" and "Return to Me" are just my favorite examples of that. "Hotel Neverland" and "The Moon...Tells the Sea" also contain elements of the spooky or supernatural, but just very unique and unforgettable twists that you definitely shouldn't miss. "In the Viper's Den" isn't spooky or Halloween-themed, but it does have an autumnal feel to me for some reason. It's also one of my favorites of Krystal's stories, period. So there's that too. Various Lengths, all Complete

“An American Haunting” by @welllpthisishappening I just LOVE this story. I think it was around Halloween last year that I discovered it, and I think it’s one of my favorite of Laura’s stories that I’ve read. Emma, Killian (and several other familiar OuaT faces) work at an American historical park of sorts, and though technically “just friends” pine for each other all the while. Then, one of the historical stories comes a lot closer to their present than ought to be possible, and they just might be fighting for each other’s lives...  Two Shot, Complete

“Hope is the Thing with Feathers”, “Blackbird”, “Scarborough Fair”,  and “Ivory Runs Red” by @searchingwardrobes These are some of my favorites of Melanie’s (and that’s saying something, because each new thing she posts tends to become my “new favorite” for a bit!) At any rate, these offerings all have a bit of the supernatural or spooky to them, or they just feel like they should happen in Fall. There is some lovely CaptainCobra and CaptainBook brotp in a few of these too, along with the stellar CS writing.  Various Lengths, All Complete except “Scarborough” which is a WIP.

"Ghosted" by: @jrob64 This story was Joni's offering for the @cssns23 event - and wow, was it a doozy!! It has just the right balance of spine-tingling evil ghost/spirit haunting from a properly awful Neal, and yet sweetness and trust building throughout between Killian (as a ghost hunter of sorts) and Emma (as the woman next door being haunted by her ex). Not only that, but there is lovely support from Will and Belle as Killian's team (and a potential couple in their own right). I don't want to spoil any of the thrills and chills, but if you missed this as it was posting back in July and August, definitely check this one out!! 5 Chapters, Complete

“The Man Behind Glass” and “The Prickly Witch’s Guide to Magic” both by: @shireness-says  I do believe that both of these stories were written for the first @cssns event over two years ago now.  I love both of them so much - you really can’t go wrong in checking either of them out! One features Killian as a centuries-old pirate trapped within a mirror and discovered by one little boy with a heart full of belief, and the Prickly Witch fic is a great group friendship fic as well as CS - AND it has some heartwarming hints of Jeweled Beauty (Liam x Belle) one of my favorite underrated things in fic!  Both long oneshots, Both Complete

“A Charm of Powerful Trouble” by: @spartanguard I really love this short MC in which Killian is hit with a potion that turns him into a huge wolf. I love the danger, adventure, angst, and of course the triumph of CS’s True Love in this one. It’s my favorite of all of Kaitlyn’s writings (and I love all of her writings!) I love how the whole Storybrooke crew joins in to support Killian and Emma in this as well. 5 Chapters, Complete

"Witchy Woman" by: @booksteaandtoomuchtv This story was originally written for the @cssns23 event, and I hung on every word while each new chapter was posting. I seriously couldn't get enough of this adventure of a star-crossed witch and vampire in love but attempting to stay apart, even as they both served their greater community, and could never quite manage to forget the love they'd shared. This one is not to be missed!! 10 Chapters, Complete

“The Halloween Gambit” and “Friends with the Monster That’s Under my Bed” both by: @zaharadessert Both of these fics are Halloween themed, written for Halloweek at some point, if I remember correctly. “Gambit” is very pirate-y and adventure themed, and I loved Killian getting to make a dashing rescue and Emma’s bravery and loyalty to him in it. “Monster Under the Bed” is a one shot and includes some of my favorite characters who are no longer living in show canon ;p  “Gambit” is 7 Chapters, Complete; “Monster” One Shot, Complete

“Saudade” by: @apiratewhopines This fic is so insanely BEAUTIFUL that I can’t even properly express how much love I have for it. I love that it fixes things which definitely should have been handled just the way @apiratewhopines​ does in this fic, I love the tribute it gives to Graham (not to mention he and Killian getting to meet and have an understanding in how they care for Emma), and I’m incredibly flattered that it was written for me! <3 If you are someone who loves to see bits of the Underworld arc handled more gracefully, or even if you just love a gorgeously written, bittersweet fic, you have to read this one!!  Two Shot, Complete

“Arm’d with Hell Flames and Fury all at Once” by @darkcolinodonorgasm This fic was written for 2019′s @pupstravaganza and features the most endearing version of a hellhound I imagine you’ll ever read about! :) Emma and Kilian, along with a few familiar friends are monster hunters fighting feelings for each other, but when their newest hunt gets tangled up in Killian’s tangled past, all bets are off...  2 Parts, Complete

"Can I Be Your Werewolf?", "Cautionary Tales" and "Safe Passage" by: @belovedcreation All of these fics by @belovedcreation are pretty new - in fact, "Safe Passage" was just posted this weekend and I read it just last night! One is a longer, chaptered werewolf modern AU which I simply adore (even if I need to go back and do a better job commenting on it!), one is a three part vampire fic, and the last is a zombie-adjacent one shot! The fact that I even braved something at all related to zombies tells you just how much I love @belovedcreation's writing. Check all of these out!! All Complete stories

“Some Legends are Best Kept as Legends” / “Varcolac” / “Ghost in the Void” by @hollyethecurious Okay, so I know you are getting three stories for the price of one here, but I couldn’t choose between them. Two of these are from @cssns events: “Some Legends...” samples a bit of Irving’s “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow” in inspiration, but going on it’s own decidely amazing course from their with Killian as a man out of time, the myth of the Dark One, and the power of a true believer’s heart; “Varcolac” blends werewolf and vampire characters and mythology in such an interesting way for a pulse-pounding story plot and a powerful love story. “Ghost in the Void” features a ghost (as you might expect) reaching from the beyond to connect with the lonely human tenet of “his” house for a story that will absolutely stay with you.  6 Parts, Complete (Legends) / 5 Parts, Complete (Varcolac) / Oneshot, Complete (Ghost)

“a house is never still” by: @capnjay21  Honestly, I don’t even know what to say about this story, or how to describe it without giving too much away.  I could say it’s a haunted house story on the surface, but it’s SO MUCH MORE than that. It gives us a young Emma and Killian and their friends and a heartwrenching backstory to set the scene, a truly haunting and spine-tingling mystery, melancholy and loss, and wondering if it can ever be made right.  It’s just stunning - and you really should check it out for yourself instead of listen to my floundering around trying to sell it. Plus, a sequel as just begun posting!!    6 Chapters, Complete

“the very witching time” by: @profdanglaisstuff Another @cssns entry originally this story features witch!Emma and her loyal and cunning canine companion, whom she took in and treated from a traumatic injury. Little does she know how much more than a normal dog he will prove to be... ;)  Not only that, but the atmosphere, the history, and the unfolding plot in this will just sweep you up and you won’t want to stop until it’s finished.  Don’t miss it!!  6 Parts (and a connected oneshot), Complete

“break me” by: @thisonesatellite Oh my goodness! How could I not list this story?!? I still can’t get over how much I love it (when normally I would have run the other way from all the scary baddies and monsters who go ‘bump in the night’ in this fic?) It led me to all the rest of Stephanie’s writing, and I really haven’t surfaced since! ;p There are vampires, werewolves, monster hunters, monsters I didn’t even know about, and in the midst of all that two people find each other and just might be the only inspiration that can help them fight to the other side of all the odds standing against them. 12 Chapters + an epilogue, Complete

“An Education in Southern Gothic” by: @searchingwardrobes Man alive, I almost missed this one! This entry into the @cssns19 event has just the right about of thrills and chills without becoming too much for a definite chicken like me. I honestly can’t resist Killian as a teacher/professor, which Melanie gives us here, and the mystery surrounding the school, as well as the still very real threat reaching its claws into the present will make you unable to stop reading this one until you reach the end. There’s friends to love, pining, suspense, supernatural danger, both Captain Cobra and Captain Book friendship, and just everything you could want in a fic really!  Two Parts, Complete

“Magical Rings and Mystical Doughnuts” / “Storybrooke Haunted Farms” / “Life Meant Nothing Until You Used My Toothbrush” by: @let-it-raines  All three of these stories are nice one shots with some length that you can really get drawn into and honestly never want to surface from! “Mystical Doughnuts...” will always have a special spot in my heart because it was the first story of Raines’ that I discovered and it lead to a lovely commenting and chat back and forth session and all her other stories that have made me smile so many times over since then! “Storybrooke Farms” is just a fun modern AU with yes CS but all the rest of the OuaT gang involved in humorous and adorable support, and then “Life Meant Nothing...” (originally written for a @csseptembersunshine event) is one of my favorite of Raines’ MANY awesome stories. I love the cozy small town feel of it, how it’s a bit of a mash-up with Gilmore Girls, and the friendship Emma and Killian have and the way it finally becomes romantic for them as well. :)  All oneshots, All Complete

“Happily Ever After” by: @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ There’s a lovely Fall Festival setting to this modern au, starring Emma and Killian as rival bakers - with lots of chemistry cooking beyond the kitchen! It’s as sweet as the apple desserts each are vying to make the winner, and you will absolutely be grinning and giddy with enjoyment by the end. :)  Don’t miss it!!   7 Chapters, Complete

"Not All Treasure is Silver and Gold (Sometimes it's Chocolate)" by: @stahlop This lovely one shot featuring Killian, future CS children, and adorable trick or treating in Storybrooke is simply irresistible! Incredibly sweet one shot you can read in one sitting, but without the calories of Halloween candy! This one will have you smiling from ear-to-ear, trust me! :) One Shot, Complete

“How to Carve a Pumpkin (Not Yourself)” by: @thislassishooked  This story is just all the sweetness and meet cute and perfection one could pack into a fall-themed or Halloween story!  I love the way Emma and Killian find each other in this, her friends pushing her and helping the possible match along, Henry’s involvement, the artsy pumpkins, the fun and small town humor - just all of it! And - bonus - if you aren’t ready to let go of this ‘verse when you finish, there’s a Thanksgiving follow-up!  Oneshot, Complete

"Fields of Asphodel" by: @anmylica This chaptered fic takes us on a journey through 5b and the trip to the Underworld that is gripping and unforgettable. I genuinely get so excited when it updates and can't wait to see what might be coming up next. This is still a WIP in progress, but don't let that put you off. It's wonderfully well done and much more what I would have liked to have seen - much more spooky and haunting and emotionally satisfying - than canon ended up being in much of that arc. 9 Chapters, WIP

"post mortem" by: @exhaustedpirate Oh my goodness, this fic!! I can't say enough about it, and I don't quite know how to explain the plot without giving too much away, but I really do adore it and want to give it a shoutout in this post. Killian is what I might refer to as a ghost whisperer of sorts - spirits/ghosts can contact him because he can see and hear them and help them try to settle their unfinished business. Emma is a ghost that needs his help. There's a fun school setting, Belle is a wonderful supporting character as the school librarian, and Henry is also used in this to wonderful effect. This is still in progress as well, but there's really only one more part to go. Definitely check this one out - you won't be able to get it out of your head!!! 2 parts of an intended 3, WIP

"A Crystalline Knowledge of Love and Magic" by: @xarandomdreamx The movie Practical Magic has always seemed like it would make for an excellent OuaT/CS AU and I adore Taryn for actually giving it to us. I love the OuaT characters she has chosen to include in the various roles, the way this story has begun, how everyone is characterized, just all of it together!! I'm a huge fan of her writing in general, and though this one is still in progress, I can already tell it's going to be a favorite!! If you love Practical Magic, or are just looking for a Fall-flavored fic with romance, magic, mystery and sisterhood, this is the one for you! 2 Chapters at present, WIP

Tagging: @jennjenn615 @xsajx @bluewildcatfanatic @ultraluckycatnd @lfh1226-linda @kday426

[mothraranger]

Another Animated!MegaMags head-canon: Megatron would treat a carrying Ultra Magnus like a queen. He already does but takes it up a notch. Megatron would massage Ultra's back and thighs, carry him when he can't walk, get him the softest blankets and pillows the AllSpark can find, holds and says reassuring things to him whenever Ultra is feeling down about himself, he'd just spoil his Magnus!

Some bot tries to touch Ultra's rounded stomach without his permission? Here comes Megatron, placing himself between Ultra and the touchy-feeling bot and just glaring daggers at said bot while the Magnus looks up at his mate with a combination of absolute love and lust.

Interfacing? Respectful as always in regards to each others boundaries. If one tries to initiate and the other isn't in the mood, the one trying to initiate will offer to cuddle instead; if one tries to initiate and the other enthusiastically consents, fun times are to be had. Now, a post-partum Ultra would have low libido and at times would tell Megatron that its okay to find another bot to 'face with until his libido returns (they are both poly and in open relationships in some of my fic ideas) but Megatron would tell him that he's not going to do that and he can be patient (also because he doesn't want Ultra to feel terrible). If there are still problems a year after Ultra gives birth, they'll get it taken care of. But when Ultra's libido does come back, he's all over Megs.

Speaking of Ultra, he doesn't let all the spoiling go to his head. In fact, he tries to repay Megatron, well as good as he can if he is heavily pregnant. Finds a novel that Megs has been looking for? He buys it it a sparkbeat and gives it to him when they're at home that day. An important event Megatron is a part of? Ultra will try his best to be there when invited. When Megatron stops a bot from touching his pregnant belly, Ultra will get turned on and will try to initiate when they get home, which Megatron will happily consent to if he's in the mood; if not, then Ultra will be super affectionate, never whining when told no.

You how I said in this post (https://mothraranger.tumblr.com/post/758299269402935296/head-cannon-megatron-and-ultra-magnus-would-be) that Mags and Megs will rarely, if ever, do any kind of PDA? Well, that's all thrown out the window! Ultra's hormones causes him to get affectionate with Megatron when they're in public. If he sees a bot is trying to flirt with and won't leave Megatron alone, Ultra will walk over to his mate, wrap his arms around the bigger mech's own arm, and ask if everything is alright before planting a kiss on the old warlord's faceplate.

While they are poly and in open relationships in some of my ideas, they will close the relationship if one of them is carrying and when they have a new sparkling. They don't bring their other partners around their kids until they know their partners enough and the kids are older.

Optimus (when he's their kid, not all of my AU's has Optimus as a MegaMags kid) nor any of their other older kids are ever parentified and Megatron and Ultra always make sure to spend equal time with all of their kids, whether as a group, a duo, or just one-on-one time with with one of them and an individual kid.

And if Megatron is carrying? Ultra will do everything for Megatron that he [Megatron] did for him [Ultra]; Megatron, likewise, will do the same for Ultra.

For those of you who have read this post (https://mothraranger.tumblr.com/post/758345051340521472/listen-i-love-the-idea-of-megatron-carrying-ultra), you maybe wondering, "Could Ultra still carry Megatron if Megs was carrying?" And the answer is yes, yes he can! Ultra can still carry his tall and rounded husband and not break a sweat!

They'll both take leave from their duties and help out with both the child-rearing and house duties 50/50. If the Carrier develops post-partum depression, the Sire won't leave him alone with the kids and will monitor him for signs of post-partum psychosis. If the Carrier has a C-Section, the Sire will take on the brunt of the work until the Carrier fully recovers.

Also, if Ultra is unable to lose the baby weight, Megatron will praise him, which causes the Magnus to development both a body worship and praise kink.

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer (05) | jjk

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, crying, Sad Boy JK Hours ??, valentino!yoongi bc that should be a whole warning 🥵 even though he's there and not really there for literally 2 seconds lol

rating: PG-15

word count: 9.5k

note: this is the most stressed out i've ever been while trying to post a fic 💀 argh anyway, 2 obs updates in one month ?? is this even real life !! consider this a (lunar) new year's present from me to everyone who celebrates it and also to everyone who doesn't !! idk i'm bad at notes and i'm delirious so that's it 😗

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Hey, I feel like if we gave it one night You'd hate me less and make it alright Just wish that we could fight now I'd hold you on the comedown

Rockland - Gracie Abrams

One thing about you, is that you don’t do well with change.

After you moved out of the first apartment you got as an adult, you constantly went back to your old neighborhood even though it wasn’t close to your new place. You kept walking those familiar streets, kept shopping at the stores where the workers knew your name. At night, you still pictured yourself living there, with all of your furniture and clothes and decorations that you’ve already emptied from those old bones. Then, you imagined what the new tenant was like, if they could feel the lingering love you had for that apartment. You wondered if they were putting the coffee table you left behind to good use, or if they thought that it looked out of place among all of their belongings and had already thrown it away.

Jimin called you weird for that, but he didn’t know that you always leave a piece of yourself everywhere you go. The biggest pieces, you think, are hidden somewhere in a closet in your childhood bedroom where your mother still lives, and in the tiny space of your dorm room where you spent most of your college years.

It took you more than half a year to finally start considering your new apartment home. 

Because you hate change. Change is scary. Change is walking into a pitch-black tunnel with no flashlight, not knowing what awaits you in the darkness and not knowing if you’ll make it to the other side.

That isn’t to say that change is inherently bad. You’ve experienced good changes before. Arguably, Jungkook was a good change when he went from someone you couldn’t tolerate, to the love of your life back then. You were happy with him, so blissfully happy that for a while, you forgot what it was like to experience any other emotion.

Yoongi has always been your friend. It didn’t take you two very long to become well acquainted with one another and from there, develop a good friendship. You have never thought of him as anything other than a friend. Even when he was your boss, he still felt more like a friend.

As you sit next to him in a bar too empty for your liking – but seems right for a Tuesday night – you feel a palpable shift between the two of you.

When your phone vibrates with a notification, you glance at it only to exhale annoyedly – unclear whether this frustration is directed toward yourself, or the person blowing up your mobile; maybe it’s both. That’s the nth message that Jungkook has sent you in the last couple of hours, and you don’t need to read it to know that it’s probably another iteration of the same apology. How many different ways are there to say “Hey, I’m sorry for fucking the receptionist and then having the balls to tell you that you’re the unprofessional one when you didn’t even do anything.” Apparently a lot, because the texts just keep coming.  

“Jungkook again?” Yoongi asks from beside you. Fuck. You’ve mostly been silently moping since he brought you here, too enmeshed in your own web of muddled thoughts that you forgot he’s someone you need to make amends with too. 

You give him a nod but still continue to stare at the drink in front of you, trying to disentangle your Yoongi thoughts from your Jungkook ones. 

Taking a sip of your drink, your face manages to keep a grimace at bay as the liquid ambushes your tastebuds. You don’t like whiskey, but you need something to hate more than yourself tonight. When you set the glass down, the alcohol sloshes around like a compact sea of your own amber-colored miseries.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “This is unfair to you. I don’t know what came over me. I just want you to know that this isn’t me responding to…” To your confession.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re about to say, then I have to stop you right now.”

“Yoongi…”

“I’m not saying that you can’t turn me down, although I hope you don’t do that,” he chuckles. “I’m just saying that whatever you do, whether you give me a chance or reject me, I want you to decide after you’ve really thought about it, about me.”

You can’t say no to that; it’s only fair. Yoongi knows what he deserves. You haven’t looked at him in any other way, but that doesn��t mean that you can’t. Didn’t you say it yourself, that maybe you should start putting yourself out there? Well, here is someone coming to you before you even have to look anywhere. You may not have expected Yoongi, but then, you didn’t expect Jungkook either.

Yoongi could be the good change you need.

Nevertheless, you want to tell him you’re sorry for the other night. It should be fairly simple, but the words have a hard time dislodging themselves from your throat.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night at dinner… and what I did…”

Yoongi props an elbow on the bar top and leans forward to rest his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Remind me what it is that you did again?”

“Come on, I’m serious.” You are grateful that he’s trying to keep it light, though.

“I’m serious too. I seem to have forgotten.”

“Yoongi…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You sigh, shutting your eyes momentarily. Recalling the moment makes you flush with embarrassment, bringing a splash of color to your cheeks which Yoongi always seems to enjoy.

In a quiet voice, you say, “I’m sorry for throwing salt at you…”

“You threw salt at me!” He tips his head back, laughing freely. The bartender spares you two a glance at the sudden disruption. “You shouldn’t go around throwing salt at people!”

“Stop laughing! I’m trying to apologize.” You punch his arm out of habit and for a second there, you forget that your relationship with Yoongi isn’t the same anymore. Changed forever.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Jeez, why are you so violent?” He rubs the spot where you hit him, muttering under his breath something about him bruising like a peach. “Apology accepted. No hard feelings.”

“Okay, good. But I still want you to know that if you were expecting anything from tonight…”

Yoongi ruffles your hair with a scoff. “I’m not that dense. Of course I’m not expecting anything.” When you peer at him with curious and unsure eyes, he continues, “Y/N, earlier you looked like you wanted to set the place on fire and Jungkook looked like he was about to shit himself. Tonight, I’m just a friend who’s here for you if you want to vent. We’re just two buddies having a drink, that’s all.”

He makes it sound so simple, while your brain is already going haywire.

Despite yourself, you chuckle at his words. You tell him how much you appreciate it, though you don’t really tell him anything about what happened this afternoon, just that Jungkook said some stuff that pissed you off. You can’t tell him exactly what Jungkook did to anger you without alluding to the confession for which Yoongi is letting you off the hook for now.

“Do you wanna come with me tomorrow?” Yoongi asks.

“Come with you where?”

“I have a shoot with Valentino in the morning.”

“You have a photoshoot not even 12 hours from now and you’re here drinking? Aren’t you gonna wake up puffy or something?”

“Yeah, my manager would kill me if she knows what I’m doing,” he replies casually, like his manager has a telepathic connection with him and she can sense him mocking her over a drink. When people see Agust D, they tend to only see the icy exterior that he dons. That tough, maybe even callous, image has sustained him in the entertainment industry for years. For many, Agust D seems intimidating and unapproachable. That’s how you felt when you first met him too. But after a while, you got to see Min Yoongi, and Min Yoongi is nothing if not warm and tender-hearted, even if he’s a little shit sometimes. At least, that’s what he has always been like to you. “She thinks I’m getting my beauty sleep right now.”

You lightly snort at that, telling him, “Yeah, you need it.”

When you start to yawn, Yoongi calls a driver to drop you off at your place. The ride is mostly silent, because you’re tired and because you’re not sure what to say to Yoongi in the presence of a stranger taking you home. The car pulls up to your building soon enough, and before you can step out and tell him goodnight, he offers to walk you up. He takes the elevator with you to your floor, how gallant but unnecessary. When you reach your door, you wonder whether you should invite him in for a glass of water or something. If this was a week – or even just a couple of days – earlier, you would’ve had no reason to hesitate.  He doesn’t ask if he can come in but instead takes one of your hands.

“I see you’ve been giving yourself some TLC. They’re a lot better now,” he comments, smoothing his thumb over your skin. You’ve been diligent with your hand care routine since he gave you that lotion. It feels nice, and it smells amazing. Besides, your hands were starting to hurt anyway.

Silence descends upon the two of you as you become aware of Yoongi touching you, and the weight of the answer you’ve yet to give him. He must feel you stiffen, because he lets you go and smiles.

“Relax, princess. Get some sleep, you’re the one who needs it. I said I’ll let you think about it, didn’t I? Stop stressing so much.” His index finger taps your cheek playfully, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. The wink that he tacks on makes you roll your eyes. You watch Yoongi make his way to the elevator, step in and press the button for the ground floor. He maintains eye contact with you as he waits for the doors to shut, and you don’t think you’ve really noticed before how Yoongi carries himself with such confidence and poise even when he’s off-camera. That’s just the kind of person he is and it’s… kind of attractive.

You can’t even fish around in your bag for your keys, you just stand there because he keeps your gaze trained on him. His eyes are alluring even under the shitty lighting of your building’s elevator. Before the lift closes, his voice carries over from the metal box to your door, and you don’t know if it’s the echo of his low timbre in the empty hallway that makes you shiver, or if it’s just Yoongi.

“I’ve waited this long, what’s a little more time?”

One week. This is a record for you and Taehyung.

You’re still baffled by his attitude that night, and no one has cleared anything up for you. He was right, but that doesn’t mean you were wrong. You stand by your initial reaction. Could anyone really blame you for that? In your defense, who the fuck could believe that a worldclass megastar has romantic feelings for them? Not to mention that the person whom the megastar in question has feelings for is you! You, the pathetic girl who can’t seem to get over her ex. Yoongi had to sit through a whole hour of you drunkenly crying over Jungkook, for fuck’s sake!

That really wasn’t your best moment, but it’s not like you even remember it anyway.

Your phone buzzes to life with Jimin’s face taking over the whole screen – a photo of your hand squishing his full cheeks until his lips jut out. “Hey Minnie,” you greet him once you’ve swiped to accept the call.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding out of breath. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home. Where are you? Are you doing pull-ups again? You know you practically hyperventilate when you do more than 3.”

“Shut up, I’m at dance practice. But listen, have you talked to Tae yet?”

You purse your lips at the mention of his name. “No. We’re supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow like we always do, but I guess that won’t be happening.”

Jimin hums, like he’s in thought. He doesn’t speak again until his breathing has calmed. “Well, can you go to his place right now?”

“Why?”

“He’s sick and I’m kind of worried about him. He hasn’t answered my messages.”

You frown. “Tae’s sick?”

“Yeah, he must’ve caught a cold the other day. Could you go over there and check on him? I would go but I can’t leave for another few hours.”

You agree to go, because of course you would. Even if you’re stubborn and hot-headed, no amount of pettiness could make you ignore your friends especially when they’re unwell and need somebody. Especially when it’s Taehyung who’s been there for you so many times.

You stay on the call with Jimin for another ten whole minutes even after you have said you would go, because he keeps droning on and on about how shitty Taehyung looked yesterday.

Before you go to your best friend’s apartment, you stop by your regular diner to pick up some comfort food for him, and the pharmacy for some medicine. During the rest of the drive there, you start getting a little worried. When Taehyung takes care of a sick you or Jimin, he practically goes into full mama bear mode, making sure that you’re as comfortable as humanly possible and not leaving your side until you’re a functional human being again. But when it comes to his own wellbeing, Taehyung doesn’t seem to be that concerned. It’s not that he neglects his health, but you wish that he would show himself the same kindness that he shows you.

It feels weird to use the spare key that you have to his place, considering that you aren’t really on speaking terms. In hindsight, it feels so childish. How old are you to still be pulling the silent treatment on each other? 

You ring the doorbell and wait a couple minutes until you hear Taehyung shuffling to get the door from the other side. When it swings open, he tenses up a bit, not expecting to see you at all. His hair is damp; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. Taehyung doesn’t look as bad as Jimin described though. Just some dark circles under his eyes.

You raise a hand and wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he parrots somewhat awkwardly. It’s understandable; neither of you thought you’d be the one to break the ice. “What are you doing here?”

Bringing your other hand up, you show him the bag you’re holding. “Brought you soup and cold meds. Jimin said you’re sick.”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Thanks…” he says slowly, “but I’m not sick?”

“But Jimin said you caught a cold and you’ve been wheezing like a dying fisherman and–” You purse your lips, catching onto what’s really happening here. “He tricked me, didn’t he?”

Park Jimin…

Taehyung tuts under his breath, shaking his head at the ground. “Mhmm.”

“He could go into acting. He sounded really worried on the phone, like you were on the verge of death.”

“No, yeah, he really could,” Taehyung agrees. “Jimin is bizarrely good at lying sometimes. We should be worried about that.”

You laugh, and that makes him feel like the air is relaxed enough for him to laugh too. It only lasts a few seconds before you’re left staring at each other again. You hate it. You really, really hate it.

You thought that the universe sent you a sign, gave you a reason to come over and make nice with your best friend. Turns out that “the universe” is really just Park Jimin and his scheming tongue. But you’re already here, and you have to talk to him eventually. Jimin might have lied, but you would’ve just waited for Taehyung to reach out first to offer an olive branch anyway.

“Well, can I come in?” you ask. It’s weird that you even have to ask.

“Of course,” he says absentmindedly, stepping to one side to let you in. He takes the bag from your hand and brings it to the kitchen while you kick off your shoes and change into the pair of fuzzy bear slippers that he keeps for you here.

You want to tell him what happened as much as you hate admitting that you were wrong.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, a sad attempt at delaying what will inevitably come.

“No,” comes his simple reply.

“Should we eat? I bought enough for two people.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“You don’t have to be sick to eat chicken noodle soup.”

Taehyung looks at you like the thought has genuinely never crossed his mind. “Interesting… Okay, then.”

You put on an episode of your favorite show while he heats up the food. When you both sit down to eat, it’s mostly silent while the TV continues to play. The most you and Taehyung thing that you exchange in these 30 minutes is him saying soup tastes like shit when you’re not actually sick, and you telling him to stop being such a hater. When you both finish, Taehyung rinses the bowls and puts them in his dishwasher. 

Before you came over, you thought you would only be making him eat, take his meds, and sit there for a bit while he sleeps. If you had known this would happen, you would’ve prepared yourself for it.

But then again, you were tricked into coming.

Ugh. Just do it. You are so freaking dramatic.

“Well,” you start, keeping your voice light and trying not to stand around like you’re out of place in his apartment, “you were right.”

“About what?” Taehyung asks, wiping his hands on a towel. 

“About Yoongi and… all that.”

“Oh.” His expression is one you aren’t too familiar with. There’s surprise – yes, that you’re making peace with him – in the way his brows slightly lift, but there’s something else too. Something odd that you can’t quite put a finger on, and it makes you slightly uneasy because you don’t like it when you can’t read Taehyung. 

He’s pretty quick to mask it, and it makes you even more conscious that there’s something he isn’t telling you. Of course, this feeling is miniscule, practically a seed compared to the blooming garden of nerves that the events of these past few days have dumped upon you, so you can’t categorize it as a high-level priority to nitpick. You need to deal with your main concerns first, aka what to do about Yoongi and Jungkook, both individually and together, and then you can begin to inspect what’s going on with Taehyung.

It all sounds so easy in theory.

Taehyung goes to the couch and you wordlessly follow. You sit down when he pats the spot next to him – your spot. “How did you come to that conclusion?” he asks. “You know I don’t get to hear you tell me I’m right very often.”

Because you aren’t right very often, is what you almost say. It’s light and playful, and you both know it would diffuse the leftover tension, but you chuck the words aside in favor of something more serious. There isn’t that much to catch him up on, but there is a lot to unpack from the few things that did transpire over the last few days.

You give him a recap of what happened with Yoongi and subsequently what happened with Jungkook. Those are the two things weighing the most on your mind. You haven’t really processed anything; blame it on Yoongi for telling you that you have time to think things through.

One thing you love about Taehyung is that he doesn’t tell you what to do, but rather helps you sort things out on your own. Come to think of it, these conversations often take place on his couch. He’s like your own personal therapist at this point.

“Can you give me a hug?” You probably can’t ask a licensed therapist to do this, though.

He softens even more with a smile. Opening his arms, he says, “C’mere.”

You shuffle over to sink into his embrace. You sigh as you practically melt in his hold. Taehyung is a little bony, but hugging him feels exactly like hugging a giant teddy bear. He’s soft, and always knows how to hold you just tight enough, how to stroke your hair the way you like, how to be just the comforting presence you need amidst a whirlwind of anxious thoughts. And he smells like jasmine, though that might be because you keep deliberately gifting him colognes with scents that you like.

With your chin perched on his shoulder, you feel yourself start to relax, walls coming down if only briefly.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks after a moment.

You’re suddenly aware that you’re crying. You don’t know how it started, but now that the waterworks have begun, it seems like there’s no stopping. “No,” you sniffle. “Can I just…”

You feel him exhale. “Of course.”

Taehyung is one of the few people – oh who are you kidding? He might be the only one – whom you feel comfortable enough around to let yourself cry to your heart’s content. 

You’ve been feeling it for days now, even before all that shit happened. Every cell in your body is constantly vibrating, with anxiety, with guilt, with a heaviness that sinks into your bones. You’re shaking even when your hands are perfectly still. People, memories, thoughts you keep only to yourself – they all phase through you, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath.

When it rains, it pours.

Everything is weighing you down like someone has tied you to an anchor and pushed you into the unrelenting, unforgiving water. Grief is an ocean and you don’t know how to swim. Your job, your friends, the unbridled mess that you call a love life… Everything is changing and you’re the same. You’re different, but somehow still the same. Deep down, you’re still that scared little girl who doesn’t know what to make of the world. Your knees are bleeding but your mother is telling you not to cry. Why can’t you cry when you’re hurting? Every minute feels like a lifetime but every day feels like it’s going by in two seconds. Things are moving so fast. Things are moving too slow. You can’t remember the last time you actually cried. Really cried. Bawled. Sobbed. Let out all the dirt until you can see your roots again. Until you originate back to being a blank canvas. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only way that can help you see things more clearly. Your vision might blur for a while but afterward, it’ll have washed everything away. At least a little bit. So you can get your footing again.

You miss clarity, or the illusion that you have any control over your life. You miss looking out the window and have something to look forward to, even on overcast days where the sun can’t be bothered to bring you light. You miss hearing your heart beat a melody that doesn’t ache, doesn’t rattle you to the core. Pieces of you have been held together by nothing but tape and glue for the longest time. Eventually, they’ll deteriorate, and you’ll go back to being skin and bones always on the verge of falling apart.

Some of your best writing was never meant for anybody to hear. The best lines that you’ve scribbled down are diary entries disguised as music, as poetry. They’re results of your lowest and weakest moments, it just happens that there was a journal lying around and you thought that if you had to keep all that sadness inside for a second longer, you would burst. Those immortalized lines represent your heartbreak, your self-hatred, your sorrow and your grief. They come from a lifetime of unshed tears, from the burden of having a heart that feels too much but is always silenced. Words are your escape when time rushes through you like a child skipping stones. Everything hurts all the time but no one knows and you don’t bother explaining to anyone how you wish you could be a different person living a different life because it seems like the universe has made a mistake with this one. How it feels like a divine power has miscalculated and misread your false stoicism as resilience. Just because a person carries it well doesn’t mean they have to carry it at all. 

Sometimes you like to muse that if anyone could catch a glimpse of what it’s like inside, they’d think, Wow. How are you holding all of that weight? How are you so silent through it all? How do you live with an ache so allconsuming that I can hardly see you underneath it?

It’s the only way you know how to express yourself. But even then, when you’re screaming and burning, you’re still quiet. Those words are your heart on paper, raw and bleeding all over the place, covered in a million cracks that no one can see or even pay enough attention to notice. They’re there whether anybody likes it or not. They’re right there, red ink staining white pages, begging in a voice small like a child asking for love. Please see me. I’m here. Nobody taught me how to swim. Please see me.

But nobody does. They walk past you every day. They sit with you, smile at you and laugh with you. They leave you. They stay. They break your heart. Even when they love you, nobody sees you.

You love Taehyung, but you don’t think he understands. He knows you better than almost everyone in this world and he tries to help you in any way he can, but at the end of the day, maybe this isn’t something that a person can understand even if they want to. It’s worse, to realize that perhaps it isn’t because people don’t care enough to see it, but that no matter how hard they try, they can’t.

The only person who has ever come the closest is Jungkook, with his big doe eyes that always see through you and see into you. Sometimes, you think there might be parts of you that he could see but you still don’t. He knew things about yourself that you never want anybody to find out, and he loved you anyway. He went the lengths that nobody ever did because they all gave up after a while. Someone once told you that you felt like a fortress wall impossible to climb, that nobody had the time, the patience to wait for you. In other words, you weren’t worth it. Not worthless, just not worth the effort it would take to break down your walls.

But Jungkook showed up and tried, every day. The one person that you never saw coming. You might have resisted at first, but then you became his biggest supporter. You were rooting for him to know you, how fucked up is that? You were right there. He was so close.

And then he stopped.

You suppose that’s what makes everything awful now – to know that you should let go of him when he’s the only person who ever came that close.

You don’t know how long Taehyung has had to sit here, comforting you like this, but at one point, your stomach starts growling and you feel your best friend trying to hold back a giggle. Jungkook might have mastered the art of loving you, but Taehyung is an expert at comforting you.

“Shut up.” You wipe away the dampness on your cheeks with the back of your hand and push Taehyung off. “Crying makes me hungry.”

“Should I order us fried chicken then?”

“And soju. Get some soju too.”

Jimin is a strategic trickster. There was no dance practice. He just ran around his apartment ten times until his breathing turned ragged, which if you ask anyone, was completely unnecessary. He’s very extra, but at least it was effective.

After he got off the phone with you, Jimin immediately went to your shared phone tracker app – today was one of those times where it proves to be the most useful. He stared at the little circle with a silly photo of you as it moved from your address to Taehyung’s with a couple pit stops along the way. Jimin giggled to himself when he saw your circle meet Taehyung’s, because at that point you two must have realized already that you’d been swindled. Of course, there was always a chance of you leaving the moment you figured out you had come all that way for no reason at all, but when Jimin saw after a couple of hours that the two circles are still next to each other, he knew that you and Taehyung made up already.

Jimin sends a message to your group chat, a simple hello but Taehyung knows what he’s trying to get at. The text thread shared by the three of you lights up with a selfie of you and Taehyung each holding a chicken drumstick and wearing a content smile. In the background, there are some soju bottles, a box of chicken and some fries.

Jimin doesn’t question why your eyes look a little puffier than usual. He just replies with a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. The triumph of his mini victory almost makes him forget that there’s someone else in his home.

Jungkook peeks over Jimin’s shoulder to peek at his phone, curious to see what’s making his friend so delighted. When he sees you and Taehyung on Jimin’s screen, he sinks again, heart sitting in the pit of his stomach. The words you told him just the day before ring loud in his ears, as if they haven’t been stuck on his mind, playing on a loop. 

You’re such a fucking hypocrite.

You weren’t wrong, but man, did that feel like a punch in the gut.

He goes to sit across from Jimin, taking note of every single sound that notifies his friend of a new message. For the first time, he feels like an outsider, like he’s intruding on a private moment.

“I fucked up,” Jungkook admits quietly, cracking open a can of beer and taking a long sip. It makes Jimin look up and put away his phone. “With Y/N,” Jungkook clarifies.

“Yeah, I’ve been informed. That was the stupidest thing you’ve done in a while.”

“In a while? When was the last time I did something stupid?”

Jimin doesn’t even have to think about it. He answers right away, “When you left her.”

Jungkook hums, unclear whether the noise is meant in agreement or just in acknowledgment. His tongue darts out to swipe across his dry lips before he breathes out. “I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t replied to any of my texts. I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“From what I’ve been told, you were a fucking asshole,” Jimin says lightly, his words emphasized with a chuckle like he finds Jungkook’s predicament so funny. “I can’t believe you would say that shit about Yoongi to her right after he confessed.”

Cue a pregnant pause, and a pair of doe eyes staring right into Jimin’s skull, unable to decipher if what he’s hearing is a joke or not.

“Yoongi– what?”

Jimin slaps himself internally. Shit. It slipped, he swears. “Nothing,” he sighs, but he knows it wouldn’t be dropped so easily.

“No. Not nothing,” Jungkook sits up straight and puts his chilled beer down on the table, missing the coaster entirely just to piss off his friend. “The fuck do you mean Yoongi confessed? Confessed what?”

Jimin sighs with pursed lips. “What else? What do you think he confessed to?”

Jungkook gulps, and blinks a few times. When? Why? Was that the reason you looked so distraught yesterday before all that shit went down between you and him? Who confesses to someone in a freaking break room?

Then Jungkook remembers that you and Yoongi went out for drinks last night. What did he say? What did you say? His stomach churns at the thought of something… happening between the two of you.

Jimin takes in his friend’s dumbfounded expression. “Why are you shocked?” he asks. “I thought you expected something like this. Isn’t it why you spewed all that crap about Yoongi flirting with her?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels like the guy is out to get me for some goddamn reason. I thought he was just playing with Y/N to piss me off!”

Jimin shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “Yoongi wouldn’t do that to her.”

“How would you know?”

“Because when they first worked together, from the things that she told us, the stuff that Yoongi would do for her, Taehyung and I thought he liked her back then too,” Jimin says. “This has nothing to do with you.”

It sucks. It fucking sucks.

“Should I go over there?” Jungkook asks, a newfound sense of urgency in his voice that borderlines panic. He’s acting like this fact that Jimin just dumped upon him is unraveling just as this conversation is taking place, but in reality, he’s one of the last people to know. 

“And tell her what? If you’ve said sorry a million times and she hasn’t responded, then saying it one more time won’t change anything.”

“What am I supposed to do when I see her tomorrow?”

“Nothing? Are you incapable of leaving things alone? If she wants to ignore you, let her ignore you. If she wants to yell at you, let her yell at you. If she wants nothing to do with you, let her do that too. Why do you keep making things worse for yourself?”

Jungkook runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “So your solution is for me to just let her hate me?”

Jimin levels him with a look, which just annoys him even more. “You had no problem with that before.”

“If you’re not gonna help me, should I ask Taehyung then?”

“Don’t go to Tae about this.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t,” Jimin snaps, and it makes Jungkook falter for a few seconds before the petulance in him clouds his better judgment.

“Why? He’s her best friend. They’re practically joined at the hip. He’s gotta be able to help me with this.”

“You really want to go to Taehyung for advice on how to suck up to your ex-girlfriend? He’s the most protective of her. What makes you think he would be willing to help you?”

“He’s my friend too, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he want to help all of us be civil with each other?”

“Yeah, he’s your friend. I’m your friend and Y/N’s too. And you’re right, all of us should get along, but we shouldn’t be put in a situation where we’d have to try. You did that to us and nothing is going to be the same again. I don’t even know why you did it. You kept your mouth shut for years no matter how hard me and Taehyung tried to get it out of you. Now you suddenly can’t make peace with the consequences of your actions? Now you want us to help you win over the person you fucked over, who is also our closest friend? I don’t get you, JK. I’m starting to regret not letting Taehyung punch you back then.”

Jungkook stares at his friend. Is this shock that he’s feeling? He still remembers that night, because he doesn’t forget a lot of things. He can’t forget it. He had never seen Taehyung – who is usually so calm and cordial – get that angry before. His friend, who is a saint of a man, felt so much rage toward Jungkook that Jimin had to physically hold him back.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin asks. “You’re not used to me not being on your side all the time?”

He knows that. The only person who seems to be on Jungkook’s side is himself, and sometimes he isn’t sure if this is even true at all. What you told him at the dance studio’s opening party, what Jimin is telling him now, and even the things that Taehyung shouted at him a couple of years back – it’s all true. He knows these things already, but it feels different to hear them from other people. You’re all right; nobody is overreacting. To an outsider, it might come across as harsh, but to anyone who knows anything, it’s rightfully deserved.

Nevertheless, Jungkook admits quietly, “Actually, yeah.”

Jimin sighs, because he knows that his friend has no malicious intent toward you or toward anyone. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t mean to hurt you, any more than he already has. Jungkook is even more crazed now that Yoongi is somehow a factor in all of this. It’s the insecurities bubbling at the surface. He’s panicking and he can’t even see straight. This is just his own stupid take on fight or flight. It was flight for a while, and now apparently it’s not. Jimin doesn’t really understand it, but he gets that this is his friend’s way of dealing with shit. “I tried, man. I did. But it’s really, really hard to have your back on this.”

Jungkook is well aware of it too – that to leave you alone is probably the best thing he can do at this point. Everything he says or does seems to backfire; instead of pulling you closer, all he manages to do is push you further away and make you hate him more than you already do. 

But in a way, isn’t that a good thing? Better to have you hate him than be indifferent toward him. After all, there’s a thin line between love and hate. You yourself blurred this line long ago. You can do it again, can’t you?

Jungkook sits there for a while longer to finish his beer, even though he doesn’t have anything else to say. It’s clear what Jimin’s stance on this is, and no matter what he says, it’s unlikely that anyone will help him try and get back in your good graces. 

Before he leaves, Jimin says something that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to fucking cry and kick something and speed over to your apartment just so you could reassure Jungkook that he’s still the one you hate the most. That all of your feelings, whether they’re good or bad, are still reserved for him and only him.

It isn’t what his best friend should tell him, but it’s what a good friend would say. It's not about Jungkook, it's not about Jimin or Taehyung or anyone else. It's about you, who has been hurt the most here.

“If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too.”

[10:48] Yoongi: Attachment: 2 Images.

[10:49] Yoongi: got yelled at for showing up puffy yesterday

You tap on the notifications and the photos pop up within seconds. It’s Yoongi at his Valentino shoot probably. He never used to send you stuff like this, nor asked you to come watch him at his photoshoots. Why would he? 

You zoom in on his face to inspect if he really was puffy, but you can’t really tell. Maybe if you were a makeup artist with a sharper eye, you would see it. But under your regular-person gaze, everything seemed fine. Yoongi looked handsome in the pictures.

[10:55] You: you don’t look puffy to me

[10:57] Yoongi: so how do i look to you? ;)

[10:58] You: the fits look good

[11:01] Yoongi: i wasn’t asking about the fits

[11:05] You: and i’m telling you the fits look good anyway

[11:07] Yoongi: what about the model?

[11:10] You: are you fishing for compliments?

[11:11] Yoongi: what if i am?

[11:14] You: the model looks Not Puffy

[11:16] Yoongi: you’re no fun ;(

You consider your next reply for a moment. It doesn’t seem like that big a deal. You want to send it. It seems innocent enough, and it’s the truth. A simple praise can’t hurt, right?

Your fingertips tingle just typing the words out. You’re suddenly so jittery for some reason as your thumb hovers over the arrow symbol that would whoosh away your message. It's a good kind of jittery. You might even say that you’re excited.

[11:22] You: the model looks good too

You put your phone face-down on the table, not even checking when it vibrates with Yoongi’s response to your latest text. It’s so weird that you’re feeling like this, maybe because it’s been so long since someone has shown an actual interest in you? Or is it because it’s Yoongi? If it were anyone else, would you still react the same?

It’s weird, but not necessarily weird in a bad way. You just aren’t used to it, or it’s been such a long time that you forgot what it feels like to be… wanted? You don’t think about it often but it’s true, you’ve missed the thrill of being chased.

“So… word on the street is you have a secret song.”

Seokjin’s voice makes you glance up, wondering who he could be talking to when the only people in the room beside him are you and Jungkook – whom you haven’t spoken a word to all morning despite him glancing not-so-subtly at you every two seconds. When you got here this morning, there was already a chai latte on the table with your name on it. The order was too specific for it to be Seokjin, but you didn’t say anything.

“The street?” you ponder for a moment, knowing exactly who the culprit is. “Is that what Yoongi calls himself these days? He’s been here for what? A couple weeks? And he’s already blabbed to you.”

“So it’s true?” Seokjin leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yoongi said it’s real good. Top shelf kinda stuff. And you know he never says things like that.”

It’s not a song, or at least that isn’t what you would call it. Maybe more like an essay composed of sentences that go together like misfit puzzle pieces. You don’t think you would ever rework it and pitch it to anyone because it’s yours and it’s personal. You would never tell anyone about it, and Yoongi wouldn’t have come to know about its existence if he hadn’t stumbled across it in your journal by accident.

“Don’t listen to Yoongi,” you say. “At this point, I feel like you should know that Yoongi tends to exaggerate sometimes.”

“He never seems to be exaggerating when it comes to you,” Seokjin muses. You almost blush, thinking about what else Yoongi could’ve told Seokjin. He doesn’t notice the split second in which your cheeks redden just the slightest, or he doesn’t mind it enough to comment. “What’s the title?”

You shrug, saying nothing.

“You can’t even tell me the title? Damn, Y/N. Are you the CIA?”

“I’m not telling you because there is no title. There’s not even a song, just something I go back to sometimes. It’s mostly just word vomit. I promise you, it’s nothing.”

“Tell that to Yoongi. He told me whoever’s gonna get that song is one hell of a lucky bastard.”

Again, what is it with the praise? You know working with Yoongi and being associated with his last album gave your career a boost, but you weren’t aware that he was talking about you with other people. Maybe he only does it with Seokjin because they’re close, but still, it makes you itch with curiosity.

“By any chance are you gonna give it to… me?” Seokjin asks, and seems to immediately hear how flawed it sounds. You stare at him blankly, trying to bite back an amused smile, and even Jungkook turns his head to look too. Seokjin’s ears turn red in an instant. “Okay, that came out kinda wrong. I’m really, really sorry. But you know what I mean.”

You continue to stare at him until his face is so flushed, you swear he’s like a tomato that’s about to burst. You can see why Yoongi likes to tease people this way. “Okay, boss,” you acquiesce with a laugh, relieving Seokjin of the fear that he genuinely offended you. “If the song ever gets to see the light of day, I’ll make sure to ask you to lend your voice.”

“Ah, so you admit it’s a song.” He grins brightly at your empty promise, making you roll your eyes half-heartedly. He goes back to his normal shade in a minute, no longer ridiculously red like a cartoon character. “What’s it about?”

You ponder his question silently, missing the way Jungkook takes this moment to glance at you. When you look up again, he’s already averting his gaze.

What is it about? That’s a question that you yourself have never really considered. It’s about everything and it’s about nothing. It’s love, it’s loss, it’s the infinite in-between. You give Seokjin an answer that won’t satisfy him, but it’s the truth.

“I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

He tuts at you, like he was expecting the obscurity from you anyway. “You’re really not beating the CIA allegations,” he says.

You flip him the bird, which only compels him to stick out his tongue and make a face at you. Then, he diverts his attention to the person who hasn’t contributed anything this whole time.

“JK, why are you so quiet today? We’re not gonna eat you.”

Jungkook mutters something to Seokjin that you don’t quite catch because the words come out of his mouth like an inarticulate mess, which is so unlike him. He sounds jumpy, like he’s too nervous to speak in front of you. Seokjin’s eyes land on you again as he mouths a confused What?

You just shrug, and Seokjin has to take Jungkook’s weird response as him having an off day. The man checks his phone, lets out a quiet whine, then addresses the both of you. “I have a shoot this afternoon so you two will have to hold down the fort, by the way.”

You come back from your solo lunch date to an empty studio.

Well, almost empty. There’s something new that wasn’t there before.

Another chai latte waiting for you equates to another apology hoping to be acknowledged. The paper cup is still hot when your hand reaches out to touch it. You sink into your chair with a sigh. You could laugh at yourself for feeling so nostalgic at the sight of a beverage in the middle of a workday.

Jungkook walks in about 15 minutes later, and the air turns suffocating at his arrival. He feels it too, you know he does. 

You chew on your bottom lip until it starts to hurt, bite down on it until it almost bleeds.

“Jungkook,” you say, catching his attention. It looks like he didn’t expect you to initiate any conversation. It’s not like you want to, but you have to. You keep having to do this, because he just wouldn’t listen. “Stop buying me drinks.”

It translates to: Stop saying sorry. Stop trying to make things right. Stop doing things you think would make me happy. Stop making me have the same argument with you over and over again.

“Because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says, and proceeds to repeat the one thing that you’re sick of hearing from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you verbalize it. “If it’s not about work, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to hear it, Jungkook. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You do need to hear it. Because I can’t function properly until you know how sorry I am.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Hear me out,” he says, sounding a little firmer now but you still catch the crack in his voice. “Please.”

Jungkook must take the way you hesitate to shut down him as reluctant permission for him to keep going, because he stands up and moves to a spot closer to you. Not close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but enough for you to see the tiny mole under his bottom lip and how it quivers when he looks at you.

Fuck. You’re letting him win again.

“Okay, fine. Talk then. I’m listening. You’re sorry, right? You keep saying you’re sorry for everything, but what exactly is everything? What are you even sorry about? Are you sorry about annoying me right now, or are you sorry about being a prick the other day, or are you sorry about leaving me five years ago? When did you become this pathetic, Jungkook?”

“W–what?”

“When did you become so pathetic?” you repeat. “If you had to come back, couldn’t you come back as someone better? Someone who’s sure of himself and has a good life, not this… person who has to grovel at my feet for forgiveness. Even when you were at your lowest, you weren’t like this. I don’t even know who this Jungkook is. What happened to you?”

If you think that you saw him at his lowest, then you’re wrong. He didn’t hit rock bottom until he’d left you and had to live with what he chose to do. 

“You’re right. I am pathetic,” Jungkook agrees, dropping his gaze to the floor like he’s ashamed. “But fuck, I’m trying to be worthy of you.”

It’s a truth that he doesn’t want to face, doesn’t want to admit how very real it is until you’ve just said it and it fucking guts him. He knows his friends pity him sometimes, even if they don’t want to view him as someone to be pitied. No matter how much of a front he puts up, he knows that Jimin and Taehyung see right through him. They won’t say it to his face, and for that Jungkook has gotten away with avoiding this fact for so long. But to hear it from you, to watch you spell it out for him, it hurts.

He wants to mention Yoongi, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t immediately aggravate you. After all, bringing up Yoongi is what got him into this mess, isn’t it?

Regardless, he wants to ask you a question that he already knows the answer to. What does Yoongi have that he doesn’t? The answer is: A lot of things. Yoongi has a lot of things that Jungkook doesn’t, one of them being the self-assurance to not run away when it comes to you and what you deserve.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because he’s scared it might drive you right into Yoongi’s arms and Jungkook can’t compete with a man like that.

He can barely keep up even with just himself in the running.

There’s a big question mark that pops up in your head, along with a slight sting in your eyes that you blink away. You’ve never seen Jungkook like this before. This whole time, was it not only you who was miserable?

He looks so small that it breaks your heart. For once, you aren’t sad for yourself but you’re sad for him. It never occurred to you that he could’ve been lonely too, having to keep all of this inside because you know he didn’t share it with anyone else. You catch a glimpse of him again, like you did when you were making ramen together in your kitchen while a storm was raging outside. In a lot of ways, Jungkook is still that kid stuck in an adult’s body, lost and scared and loved you. It feels like you could’ve seen him in the same ocean while you were just trying to keep your head above water.

The sight of him, so vulnerable and astray, placates you. Your resolve crumbles, but not like it was ever that strong to begin with. You suppose you could see why he was being a jerk to you. Even though it doesn’t justify what he said, you understand just a little bit where he was coming from. You find yourself forgiving him for some of it. It’s part of letting things go, right?

But no matter how much you want to reach out and comfort him, you know you shouldn’t. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? You’re confused and it feels like you two have been going around in a circle, looking for a solution that doesn’t seem to exist.

Coexisting doesn’t work. Telling him to leave things alone doesn’t work. What else can you do?

Why do you have to resolve a problem that isn’t even yours? Jungkook says he’s trying, but his efforts keep making your life harder and harder. You practically blew up in his face, then apologized for being harsh even though you were fully aware that you had nothing to be sorry for. You called him a hypocrite and now you’re ready to cave just because he’s on the verge of shedding a few tears. This constant back and forth between your anger and your reluctance to see that anger through is possibly the thing that’s hindering you.

You can’t – and shouldn’t – accommodate him anymore. You have to put your foot down, no matter how difficult it is with the lingering ghost of your past love.

Because you’re always weak when it comes to Jungkook.

Because you’re still holding onto something.

Because Jungkook will always be the first person that you have ever loved, and those four years meant a lot to you even if they didn’t to him. Maybe it’s even fair to say that you might never truly get over it, and that doesn’t have to be such a terrible thing. Maybe he was never the person you thought he was, or maybe you never meant as much to him as he did to you. Somehow, that’s okay. It’s manageable because it’s routine at this point. You’ve internalized it. The years have taught you that sometimes, things get shitty just because they can and you just have to deal with it.

The intrinsic pain of the human experience. C’est la vie.

What a world this is.

Is it bad that you’re thinking about Yoongi in a moment like this?

Yoongi could be your future, if you’d let him.

You should let him. Maybe this is your answer right here. 

“Jungkook, let’s stop.” He looks at you with crestfallen eyes, but you have to keep going. The only way out is through. “Let’s stop. You want me to listen to you, but you haven’t been listening to me. I don’t have the strength to keep this up anymore, and I have told you that repeatedly but you wouldn’t listen. Jungkook, move on.”

You pretend not to notice how his lip trembles even more. “What if I don’t want to move on?”

This feels like a conversation that should’ve happened ages ago. Five years ago, you should’ve screamed at him, cried with him, held each other as you both fell apart. He stripped you of that right and gave you no say at all.

“You’re being awfully selfish,” you tell him, but in your head, you’re already thinking about what his words actually mean. 

“Have you completely written me off then? Is there nothing at all that I can do? Because I would do anything if you asked. You know that.”

Your throat is so dry that it feels like you’re swallowing sand. You dig everything back up again until you find the memory of that day hidden at the very bottom.

It’s terrible. He’s making you relive it again.

“I remember calling for you and you didn’t even look back,” you say, but your voice breaks toward the end. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

Jungkook just stares at you then, and for the longest time, neither of you say anything. This is the first time that you two have addressed the problem, properly addressed it instead of half-heartedly sweeping it under the rug like you tried to do. 

You breathe in, he breathes out. You hate the way you feel, and you resent the way he looks like he’s breaking down just as badly. There are tears in those eyes, tears that Jungkook doesn’t let spill because he defiantly wipes them away with the back of his hand after a moment. 

When he speaks next, you want the world to end.

“Then I’ll earn your trust back. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will.”

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted january 21, 2023]

[canonicallyobserving911]

“We need to talk.”

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

New Buddie Fanfic in the "What do you want?" A Series of Fics and Ficlets

The 6th fic in the "What do you want?" Series in now available on AO3. "We need to talk." - After Eddie and Buck decide to take a weekend road trip to El Paso, TX to visit Chris, during the 12-hour drive, they talk about a lot of things they’ve left unsaid.

"We need to talk."

11.4K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

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Here's a snippet of a conversation Buck and Eddie are having while they're at the firehouse.

___________

Petty Eddie Diaz returns and he asks, “Are you thinking about transferring to the 325?”

As they maintain eye contact, it’s like time stands still and the silence is deafening.

Several seconds pass, then Buck finally replies, “Eddie, I—I...” But he trails off because he’s trying to determine the right words he wants to use to explain.

Eddie doesn’t rush him because he knows it’s how Buck processes things. Also, he can tell by the look on his face he’s considering it, so he patiently waits for him to continue and he braces himself for the verbal body blow that’s about to be thrown his way.

After a few moments, instead of answering his question, Buck says, “We need to talk.”

What will Eddie say in response to Buck's statement? 👀

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"What do you want?" - A Series of Ficlets

Currently 6 works completed; 41.4K Words: Rated; Teen and Up Audiences:  This is a series of “Fics and Ficlets” that I’ll be writing over the course of the next few weeks and my goal is to keep them under a certain number of words. I’m challenging myself to do it this way for multiple reasons but mainly because I want to see if I can write a full Buddie story by including smaller fics in a series in comparison to the multi-chapter fic I’m still in the process of writing titled, “I’m still in love with you but… I needed to learn how to love myself too!” I only have 9 chapters left before I finish it but once I’m done, I’d like to continue writing Buddie fanfics. However, this time I’ll start with my dislike for the way season 7 ended instead of the way season 6 did. Finally, I have a lot of WIPs that I want to finish and I figured I can turn them all into one shot fics or ficlets to build the full story for Buck and Eddie.

Since these ficlets will be posted in order, it’s imperative to read them one after the other. Each part ends at a specific point with a cliffhanger and the next part will begin with the ending of the previous part. Therefore, parts 1 - 5 should be read prior to reading part 6 and the series will continue in that manner until it’s complete.

"You don't know math!" - 3.3K Words; Rated Teen and Up Audiences: Buck is forced to choose while Eddie might be presented with another option.

"Math is a universal language." - 5K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Eddie reconnects with an old acquaintance and they spend a lot of time together. However, now that Buck’s single, he finally tries to understand math is a universal language but when he sees Eddie talking to another guy, he wonders if it took him too long to figure it out.

“You know, it’s like that thing when you meet somebody and you just… click.” - 5.1K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: When Buck comes face to face with Eddie’s new friend; he hates it but since he’s only told Maddie about his breakup with Tommy, Eddie’s still under the impression he’s taken. Therefore, Eddie makes plans to spend even more time with his new acquaintance.

"I can't stop thinking about him." - 8.1K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie are trying to move on but they can’t stop thinking about each other.

“How I hide my true feelings from others.” - 9.6K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: Buck and Eddie return to therapy but they’re both not telling each other about recent events that happened. Will they finally have an open and honest conversation before it’s too late?

"We need to talk." - 11.4K Words; Rated: Teen and Up Audiences: After Eddie and Buck decide to take a weekend road trip to El Paso, TX to visit Chris, during the 12-hour drive, they talk about a lot of things they’ve left unsaid.

Now Available on AO3

[beezusvreeland]

Santi's journal (Santiago "Pope" Garcia x Reader)

I was planning on publishing a fic about Santiago on Valentine's Day, but didn't have time to finish. Since I like what I wrote so far, I decided to share with all of you :)

summary: After the break up, Santiago is advised to write a journal to deal with his feelings, an exercise that brings back memories and, maybe, a new hope for your relationship.

ship: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x Reader

genre: Angst, possible second chance romance, Santi sometimes being sweet and, others, a bitch.

words: 1,7k

taglist (if you'd like to be added, just let me know in the comments): @wreckmyimage @steven-grants-world @lizispunkk @torntaltos @nervousmumbling @littleshadow17

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You’ll never read this. I’ll make sure of it. It boils my blood the fact that I can see the face you’d make, you would tell me writing in a journal is so unlike me. Of course you’re right, you’re always fucking right. I wouldn’t be doing this if Will hadn’t made me. He showed up at 7 fucking am at my mother’s house and you know she fucking loves him, a prince charming, if she has ever seen one. Fucking prick keeps smirking at me because I know he is far from it. After eating like a fucking king, he tossed me this goddamn notebook and a pen and said something how I should stop pouring my feelings on alcohol, hilarious since he was drinking as much as me last night, and find another way to express emotions or whatever. He is still here, watching me like a fucking hawk while I pretend I’m taking this shit seriously. 

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Being back at my parents’ house is fun for like two days, after that it’s just depressing. I’m sleeping in my bed in my room and it just doesn’t feel like home anymore. If my conscience wasn’t guilty already, I would have broken the promise I made to Ironhead and driven my ass straight to the bar. I would keep getting a hangover, but at least I would sleep better.

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I was cleaning the car just now and found one of your earrings. That one that’s a small golden hoop, you wear it all the time. You’re probably looking for it, maybe I should give it to Frankie or Benny to return it to you. It’s funny, you always said that you felt sort of naked without earrings. It was one of these things you would repeat every once in a while, I’ve always liked that. Felt like a confirmation that even if you changed, you were still you.

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Things got complicated after we broke up. I wonder if you feel it too, our friends forming teams for each of us. I don’t like that. And I know you don’t either. I went to Fish’s to give him your earring, feeling safe ‘cause you know, it’s fucking Fish, mi hermano. But Sarah was home and was the one who opened the door. Let’s just say she’s very much on your team. She made sure I knew that with all the screaming in spanish and the dishes being thrown my way. I hid in my car until Frankie came home. Me, an army veteran. That’s how pathetic my life has been, princesa. 

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Can’t sleep again. Think I got too used to having you by my side. Also, this bed is very small, I don’t know how I was able to sleep here. I think you would like to know that now I’m the one doing my own laundry and the cleaning. Ma made it clear that her casa no es un hotel. I heard her telling mis tias that the only baby she wants to take care of is a grandchild and that I ruined her chances of having one. 

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Met a girl at the bar last night. We made small talk for a while, until she asked me if something was wrong because I kept looking at the door every time someone walked in. I told her I thought I saw a friend, but the truth is I realized that my body has an automatic response to the sound of the bar door opening. I turned every time hoping it would be you walking in, but it never was.

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I saw on the news that the old movie theater downton is going to be demolished and turned into a parking garage. Not gonna lie, it made me so fucking sad to think about it and to wonder how you might react to this news. We were always there when we were kids. It was where we talked for the first time. You think it was at school, but it wasn’t. All I wanted was an electric guitar just like James Hetfield’s and my parents said absolutely fucking not when I asked them for it, so I started working there on weekends. Sundays were always boring, only a handful of people showed up in the mornings and time just wouldn’t go by.

And then one day you showed up at the concession stand, hair down in one of those headbands you loved so much, I wasn’t prepared, thought I was going to have a heart attack at the age of 16. You recognized me from homeroom, knew my name and all. I was such a fucking simp, always trying to sit next to you. I thought you would never even look in my direction and then you were there at the theater, trying to make some small talk while I got you popcorn. I spent the rest of the day over the moon that we had talked and terrified I had blown it by being so nervous and barely saying anything to you. In homeroom on monday, you turned to me with a shy smile and said hi. That’s all it took. You had me…and still do.

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The nightmares are back. You know, the ones with the sounds of shots being fired, all the blood and the bodies. I’m terrified that one day I’ll start recognizing them. Of one of them becoming you. I almost called your number, dialed it and everything. Then I remembered that, according to you, the only acceptable excuses for waking you up in the middle of the night were if the house was on fire or if someone was dying. And I just didn’t want to give you yet another reason to be mad at me.

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I’m pissed off right now. Frankie had the audacity of taking me out of town to help him pick up some table Sarah bought online and next thing I know, he starts to reprimand me for what happened. Some bullshit about not giving up on what I loved, especially not you.

No matter how much we argued, he still missed my point. You were the one that had doubts. The one that didn’t want to commit. You said you wanted to, so why won’t you?

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I went back to the bar today. Fuck, I really needed a drink after that disaster with Frankie and the arguments with my mother, who won’t shut up about Miss Celia next door becoming a grandmother to twins and how she is thinking of giving her some of my baby clothes. Ma wanted them to go to her grandchildren, our children. We can’t have a conversation that doesn’t involve this topic. I just can’t do anything right.

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It’s not just the clothes she keeps, you know. Ma also has several scrapbooks with moments I didn’t even remember. There was one just for prom, with pictures at my house, in front of the limo, others where I look very sweaty and probably stoned. I spent years going back to that memory. It’s one of my biggest regrets, not taking you to prom. I put myself in a situation I didn’t know how to get out of.

The night we kissed for the first time, in my car parked in front of the movie theater, blew my mind. Before that, I thought you’d never date me, so I started dating other girls. I had hooked up with Paloma Gomez a few times when she let me know we would go to the prom together. I said yes. I was such a shit little idiot, fuelled by hormones and teenage angst. I hadn’t learned yet that having sex with someone doesn’t mean you are in love with them, how meaningless it could be. It didn’t matter how much I tried, no amount of it could ever compare to talking to you on the phone late at night, trading secrets and whispers about everything and nothing.

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Got a consulting job at a firm. It’s freelance for now, but you know, it gives me something to do and a reason to leave the house every day. The people at the office are fine, there aren’t that many demands at this time of the year and one of the ladies from the other floor brings a cake every friday. This week’s was lemon flavored with a cream filling I know you would love.

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Benny convinced me to try out the gym he is working at and it wasn’t bad. I thought he worked at the counter or something, but he is a personal trainer. A good one, if you ask me — don’t fucking tell him.

Ben made me lift some weights and run for a bit. Tried talking to him about the fight, I actually meant to ask how you have been, but once again the words escaped me and our conversation took a turn to who’s right and who’s wrong. He said if I wanted you back, I should understand what went wrong to make it right. It was weird, not gonna lie, all the riddles and shit. For a moment there, I felt like I was the kid and he was the adult for once.

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A few days after we kissed, you showed up at the theater again, remember? You seemed nervous for once, holding a dark green box that you put on the counter. You were even wearing a dress I hadn’t seen before, the one that made you look like Wednesday Addams. It seemed you even had a bit of makeup on.

You broke the awkwardness between us asking me to open the box. Inside there were five cupcakes with inscriptions on them: P R O M ? When I looked back at you, you had your hands behind your back and were shifting your weight, a smile on your face. Telling you that I already had a date and confirming I was dating that girl was one of the hardest things I ever had to do in life — and I’ve hidden in a cave full of corpses before, you know it.

I became desperate, tried telling you it wasn’t serious, that maybe I could cancel with her to go with you. And you said that would be cruel to both of you, then left.

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author's note: I have and idea for a part two. Let me know if you're interested? And if you like what you read, please reblog and leave a comment, it means the world to us writers to be able to interact with our readers.

masterlist

[stu-dyingstudent]

third war continued/Sakura sent to war prematurely fic recs

Okay, I'll be completely honest, this is one of my ultimate favourite tropes when it comes to Sakura-centric fanfiction! Unfortunately, there really isn't too many of these out there and most are not completed, so if you know of any more then please send them my way. I'm begging.

Started: 2024.07.23

Last Updated: 2024.07.23

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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Your Move, Instigator (draw your weapon and hold your tongue) - Laysan_albatross || ao3|| third war extended AU || complete

“We are still under wartime policy,” the recruiter had told her parents. He had an envelope in his hand. He sounded sorry. “She has two parents who are successful ninjas. We would be remiss to overlook her potential based upon that alone.” The Third Shinobi War never ended. Konoha needs more soldiers, grabbing anyone who can fight, especially those who can't say no.

You guys, I love this one to death. It's definitely a darker take on the Naruto universe, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. The civilian born shinobi are deemed as more expendable and thus thrown into war while the clan born remain sheltered. I found it quite interesting that the Uchiha were also lobbed into this group, but it was more done as punishment instead. Very raw and properly gets across the devastation that this brings.

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still waters by Vulpecula_et_Anser || ao3 || gen || M || Sakura sent to war early AU || one-shot complete

Sakura is twelve when she queues up in front a desk with a bunch of other equally-terrified looking shinobi. The ages range from younger than her to old enough to be her grandpa. The man sitting at the desk is stony-faced as he doles out assignments. Sakura obediently shuffles forward when it is her turn, and recites her shinobi identification number in a shaky voice when asked. When the provost marshal looks at her, looks down at his paper, looks back at her, and grimaces, Sakura knows it’s not going to be good. OR How Sakura survives the war, told in bits and pieces.

Canon-fodder! Sakura makes her shinobi debut on the front lines, forcing her to get creative in her means to survive. It's gritty, raw, and the clever use of seals is great! In most of the other works of this type, Sakura is placed on a team of sorts or has some "support" (kinda), but here she is all alone. She is forced to fight for her life, to keep going despite how she feels because ultimately, Sakura does not want to die. She does meet some people later on though and it was great to see. Y'all know this type of story is my personal guilty pleasure (also one of the best I've read thus far)...

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Find Your Place (whatever it takes) - Dovey || ao3 || third war extended AU || incomplete

The war lasts longer than in canon, and has only just ended. While most of the 'Konoha 12' are clan heirs and thus protected from having to go to war prematurely, Sakura is from a civilian family, with naturally advanced chakra control, and thus is thrown immediately onto the frontlines. Now she's on a genin team in peacetime, and she's struggling to figure out how to live when she's not constantly at risk of dying. Team seven bonds in new weird ways, The Uchiha are actually all dead except for Sasuke (including war-hero itachi) who's got a chip on his shoulder the size of Konoha, Naruto isn't the kyuubi container and he finds Sakura kinda scary. Sakura would just like to have a hobby.

Find Your Place (whatever it takes) is the og fic of this category as far as I am aware. The main difference to consider is that it primarily focuses on the aftereffects of the war and the impact that it had on Sakura as a person.

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team. - waterpllar || ao3 || gen || third war extended AU || complete

She’s under Neji's command, which apparently means she’s under the Hyuuga’s command. The Hyuuga’s role is on the frontlines, but Neji must be special for a kid from the branch family, because they mostly send him and Sakura out after the big battles are done, to pick off the wounded, and burn bodies. Sakura kind of wishes she had someone to keep her from the big fights, too. Her job is with Neji, taking back kekkei genkai and retrieving important people’s bodies, but she has other assignments, too. She’s given a dull kunai and told to go through the battlefield, dodging blows and jutsus from friend and foe, slashing at whatever isn’t wearing a Konoha headband.(the third shinobi war doesn't end, dragging on for years. konoha is running out of troops, and unimportant children in the academy with even a modicum of talent are snatched up to the warfront. sakura, unfortunately, is one of them. so is neji.)

Such a strong beginning, although, I gotta say that the ending was rather disappointing imo. There was so much potential, but the author admitted to not wanting to continue the story so it was cut short. Hopefully more works of this nature will come to light!

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Induction - Anonymous || ao3 || M || gen || third war extended AU || incomplete

in·duc·tion /inˈdəkSH(ə)n/ noun: induction 1. the action or process of inducting someone to a position or organization. enlistment into military service.   or; The Third War does not end soon enough. Children pay the price.

Definitely not my favorite take on this trope, but it fits the bill, so it's here! Anyway, tbh I never actually made it far enough reading to get to the actual war part, so I don't have too much to say.

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Ground Zero - TheIzzatron || ao3 || gen || T || third war extended AU || incomplete

Desperate times call for desperate measures. If this means forcing weapons into the hands of children, then so be it.

AHHHHH I'm praying for the day we get another chapter of Ground Zero!! I really appreciate how we actually get a training arc where we get a base of the characters and how this system works before they properly get dispatched. The characters and their emotions are so well done that you truly feel how unfair the situation is. They aren't heartless, they are children. Highly recommend.

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Control - Dragonist || ao3 || gen || no rating || Sakura sent to war early AU || incomplete

Kumo kidnaps a child of Konoha. Sakura graduates from the academy only a year after starting it. There's a war going on, and she's obedient enough to stay quiet and follow orders. Then the war ends, and it's unclear who is really giving them. (a mystery from a child's perspective)

I haven't read Control yet, but I really need to get around to it!

Ok I just noticed I forgot to add the link to this one, but that has been fixed!!

Edit: bruh, I’m so mad I didn’t get around to reading this sooner because it seems the author deleted it 😭 if any of you have a link/download, please send (I’m begging)

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Please send me more like these!!!!

[omgkalyppso]

So I really enjoyed the Orc Heritage Armour questline. After getting into dragonflight and Alexstrasza, Kalecgos and Khadgar kind of acting like they'd never met Borgakh (again), being welcomed and greeted by Thrall / Go'el and his family was so fucking delightful.

I'm going to post the screenshots from the final cutscene first and then a few more things with commentary below the cut.

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Be warned it's long. You can press J to skip it on desktop if you open and change your mind.

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Tbh, having not played dragonflight I thought they were about to throw Eitrigg into the Nathanos role and this was going to be related to world quests. I'm glad it wasn't. Eitrigg's history makes me uncomfortable.

I care them.

While I kind of wish they'd let Drek'thar cast from his wheelchair, it's also interesting to think of him having some mobility.

I know some people really don't like Aggra, but I have and do, and I found this delightful. A circle completed.

All the little moments with Durak were very sweet. Very grounding after other story elements in the main plot have gotten so convoluted and absurd.

Thank you, Rexxar, for also recognizing a title (Huntmaster). I was really thrown when Khadgar was back to calling you Adventurer and not either Champion, Hero, or My Friend — too open ended for people new to the game!! ^^;

I go back and forth with the Countess from the Court of Harvesters and Huntmaster titles when I run around with Borgakh because while I still hate shadowlands for what it did to the various in game religions (and the orcs especially since I'm biased) I think these titles would mean a lot to her. To be acknowledged and given the promise of authority / contribution / significance wrt Countess, and to be acknowledged by her peers wrt Huntmaster, which is also tied up in my favorite expansion and all the seeds of Horde and Alliance working to a better future together.

When it came to choosing a clan, I imagined Borgakh sharing a look with Aggra about how it was "obvious" that now, given the choice, that she would follow Thrall / Go'el anywhere. But unlike how it presents the player character as having never belonged to a clan, Borgakh has been for Years, headcanoned as part of the Warsong clan. I felt it added depth and weight to her struggles.

And then not only did Thrall / Go'el have The Weakest pitch for joining his clan (undoubtedly because they knew he and the Frost Wolves were going to sweep anyway), but I got to the choice screen and imagined the question for Borgakh as being, "But would I give up a core part of my identity for you?"

She is still part of his Horde, and she would die for him and his family, but I decided to keep her a member of the Warsong clan.

Borgakh has had maxed cooking in this game for like, ever. And that the final trial was to prepare a meal as an offering for her ancestors was something I really enjoyed. That the cookbook included a spicy as hell recipe from the Warsong was a bonus and reaffirmed my enjoyment of maintaining her membership with her clan.

I really appreciated this. After shadowlands? Bring me back to the uncertainty and faith of the past wrt what happens after death and the peace and connection with those lost and those who remain.

That this quest began with the premise that the orcs felt disconnected from each other and their culture and clans and this gathering and a new ceremony to replace the old coming of age ones that an orc could take part in regardless of age was very sweet. I have so many more screenshots of all the smaller npc's and things they've said in case I want to revisit it either for myself or for fic writing in the future. Loved it.

Thank you if you read my rambling.

[witchywithwhiskey]

👻

thank you Elle!! (from this ask game)

👻 ghost: can you tease some wip ideas that have been haunting you/something you want to write in the future?

y'know i don't have too many new wips from when i last did the wip ask game, BUT i do have this one idea that always haunts me around the halloween season.

a few years ago, i came up with the idea of doing a sort of practical magic inspired fic, where reader is a witch who lives in a house on the cliffs of her small new england town and she's not well-liked by the townspeople but she does try to be normal and has a shop like sally does in the movie.

and Steve is a local farmer who didn't grow up in the town and doesn't believe in the stories that you're a witch. he came to town to help his sister and her husband run their farm while she's pregnant.

and one day Steve shows up at your back door asking for some kind of herbal remedy to help his sister with nausea or whatever. he scuffs the back of his neck with his big hand, and says he's heard the rumors about you in town and while he doesn't know about all that, the guy at the drug store said you were the only one who might have the specific combination of herbs that his sister wanted.

you smile at Steve, who's charming and cute and doesn't have any of the fear in his eyes that you're used to seeing in those of your neighbors, and you tell him you can help. you usher him in and lead him into the greenhouse off your kitchen, and he takes it all in with an admiring eye.

he asks you if you know about what they say about you in town and you nod, telling him you do. he proceeds to ask anyway—do you know they say you jump off your roof on halloween? do you know the chant the children yell about you? do you know everyone says you're cursed, so any man who falls in love with you will die?

you laugh caustically at the last one, muttering something about never falling in love. there's a story there. in the quiet of your greenhouse, Steve hears you and he falls silent. you ignore his silence and pack up his herbs and send him on his way.

after that, Steve makes a habit of coming by—first for the herbs when he needs a refill, then to fix the cabinet below the sink that he noticed was crooked, then the cracked window in the attic that you hadn't even noticed (but it would explain the draft that you'd assumed was just because the house was old).

each time, he brings you some baked goods from his sister or produce from the farm. and each time your just a little bit happier to see him...

anyway. that's as far as i've gotten. looking back at the notes i wrote, apparently there's also something about reader refusing to make a love spell for one of the townswomen to make Steve fall in love with her and she and her friends throw tomatoes at reader's house and Steve comes over to clean them up, not even knowing why they'd thrown the tomatoes in the first place.

and Steve somehow breaks the curse on reader that anyone who loves her will die. or it's not real?? idk i think about the practical magic vibes a lot but i'm still struggling with the plot stuff. also it feels like the kind of thing that's a lot longer than a one-shot so that's intimidating 🤷🏼‍♀️

anyway, thanks again for the ask, Elle!!! and to anyone who read all my ramblings 😁

[bokettochild]

OKAY I had a really vivid dream and then ideas stemmed from that dream and it was to do with legend so naturally the first thing to do is tell you said ideas right?

Yk how ever since tears of the kingdom was announced people were coming up with content to do with wild getting taken away from the chain to do totk before getting given back to them post totk? Imagine that, but with legend instead cause I think it would be fun.

So basically, everything is the same except to begin with, alltp link is there. So the chain is panicking because why the fuck is there a literal 10 year old here, this is worse than the 13 year old- etc etc. But them being them, they adopt this kid quickly, this is their baby brother and you can't tell them otherwise. Wind is happy there's someone younger than him tbh. The kids also really young, so where legend probably only talks about his adventures during his once in a blood moon lore drops, this child talks about them properly and actually has time to process. He's still traumatised from them but he's dealing with it in a healthy way and is surprisingly good at helping the others too.

Then during a world switch, somehow the kid disappears. He's gone for about... a month for them and then comes back visibly older, and more scarred and traumatised, sporting a fever to boot. For a while they can't get him to say anything about what happened but he's still a young kid so they do get him to talk about it. How idk tbf I haven't thought that deeply into it.

The same thing keeps happening after that. He helps the chain for a few months, disappears for a while and then comes back older and with a new adventure under his belt. By the last one they understood what was happening, and just.. waited for their not so little brother to come back.

I feel like this version of legend would be a lot less prickly than the one we all love because he had a proper support system after each adventure who actually understood what he was going through. Obviously he'd still be sarcastic as fuck but that's just who he is, after all that's a link thing.

I also think that they'd call lil leg some form of rabbit nickname or something to do with the pink hair.

anyways you're cool and this was a thing. Thanks for reading it b y e

FUN FACT!!!!! This is a fic!

I didn't write it, but I remember it was one of the fics that made me love Legend when I was first getting into the fandom!

It opens with ALTTP Link running into a random portal to escape the knights in his era and accidentally coming across the chain. warriors is actually like one of the first one's he meets, and because KNIGHT he goes into full panic mode. Warriors and the others help calm him down though, and eventually integrate them into their group. Wind and Warriors are debatably the closest with him, because Wind has a little brother now, and Warriors because after the misunderstanding when they meet, he kind of becomes Little Leg's protector and safe person.

And then Legend gets thrown back.

He thinks it's a dream, or he made it up to process his loneliness, but then after all his adventures, he finds a portal again, like he used to go through with his big brotehrs, and he's both scared and warily hopefull. He goes through, thinking they'll have grown and changed like him, that he's still the youngest.

He comes back on the same night he disappeared.

Nothing has changed.

They're still looking for him in a panic.

Naturally, Legend being Legend makes some comment about how they'll never find the kid they're looking for, and in a fit of protective big brother rage, Warriors absolutally loses it on him, thus forever imprinting the image of his big brother trying to kill him on Legend's mind.

They figure out what happens not long after, and of course Wars is apologetic, but Legend can now only see his protector as his attacker and a liar (Wars promised to never hurt him) and thus ANGST

The story is still in the works, but I would 100% go and read it! It's a real tear jerker!

.....I'll try and find the link, but if anyone else remembers what this one is called, please tell me, because now I ALSO want to read it.

[faroreskiss]

the mailman in LU? yeah. hurt no-comfort linguist reader somehow gets a letter from their world. contents of the letter could be up to you, or it could simply be the stereotypical notice that someone they cared for has died. really puts it into perspective that they’ve been gone for over 2 years (if you count the time they spent in BOTW’s world)

Oh my Hylia anon, thank you for this request, it really gets the juices flowing. And no comfort? Damn, the dark side is really calling for you, eh? This ficlet is here to ruin the Isekai!Reader inserts.

There is Hylian in this ficlet!

I'm making it extra dark by placing this on a time where the linguist reader is still NOT able to communicate so expressively with the Chain in Hylian.

This can still be read stand alone.

Realities of being an Isekai!Reader. Is that even a genre?

For anybody wondering, "The Power of Understanding" the Cheat Sheet is here, the main fic is here.

CW: Hurt/no comfort. Not proof-read, mention of death, dark basically. Maybe don't read it at night.

Ended up longer than I thought.

Ao3

The Void / The Power of Understanding Short Story

Spending time with your favorite heroes, hell, even being involved with them romantically to an extent, was amazing.

Of course, only if you didn't count the fact that you could get killed any time, attacked by a random monster and suffer a horrible death.

...Or the fact that you have been away from anybody you have ever known in your life, for over two years.

At some point, you accepted the fact that you were just going to be living the rest of your life humbly in Hateno, in your little cottage. Before that, it had been terrible for a while, right after the honeymoon stage ended. The depressive episodes, sobbing at night, the nightmares, the guilt. In the first year, you were barely able to function due to your grief. Even when Link and Zelda were there for you.

You felt guilty, even though it wasn't your fault that you had been thrown in there. You felt guilty that you enjoyed it sometimes, going for hikes in the morning, hanging out with Link, decorating your cottage, learning a new language, playing the scholar. You felt guilty you didn't try hard enough (if at all) to get back to your world. What could you have even done?

Then your mind had been occupied, busy with trying to build a life for yourself, trying to communicate with people in the post Calamity Hyrule. Then, you settled in, just started to have a new routine to your life. Time has passed fast, oh so fast. And these people didn't even have the same calendar system over here. You didn't even know when your birthday was in the Hylian calendar!

Later, you had been thrown into yet another world and met the rest of the Links. So much for settling in, huh.

You usually actively tried to push the thoughts of your loved ones in your world away. At some point, it became second nature to you. The world here was different enough, not a lot of reminders.

Except when you saw the Sailor with her sister... Or Rancher with his adopted family perhaps. The Old Man with his lovely wife Malon. You still pressed on.

_____

You just departed from the Lost Woods and a sense of rejuvenation courtesy of the swarm of fairies you came across, after the boys killed the huge moblin.

It was a bit before Wild's era, you were guessing. The existence of the Captain really confused the shit out of you. You assumed he was also on a merger timeline or something, like Wild.

Then, your attention was drawn to a lanky individual with an exceptionally prominent nose and a rather comical hat. Could that be the postman once more? The mystery of how he managed to consistently locate your group, deliver letters, and then depart as if it were the most ordinary task continued to boggle your mind. Yet, given that you had ventured across various dimensions more times than you could count, you opted not to dwell on it extensively.

You were more curious about how he was able to read all those different scripts from different eras in the first place. Or how Links could sometimes tell which one belonged to which hero. Not like some of them were that different...

"Hireulu!" he greeted your group, holding only one letter in his hand this time.

As lost in thought as you were, you couldn't have missed the next thing you heard:

"(Y/N) tiyu? Ti riemun nia kubela."

He... had a letter for you? The others also seemed a bit perplexed. Nobody in your era wrote letters that much anymore. You silently held up your hand. He gave the letter to you, and as the boys were trying to somehow talk to him, he already rushed away, shouting "Hilay su aduerin!" You smiled. You knew at this point that it meant "Goodbye" in a sense. "May Hylia protect you" was the literal translation of it.

Sounded almost similar to the story behind the phrase "Goodbye" in English. God be with you.

Seated by the roadside, you carefully examined the letter in your hands. Strangely, a wave of unease washed over you. It had been ages since you'd last encountered something written in Latin script that wasn't written by you.

While curiosity tugged at your thoughts, it also stirred memories you had long sought to bury, bringing forth a flood of thoughts you'd rather avoid.

Wild sat next to you, he had curious eyes as the script looked quite unfamiliar to him.

As you started reading the letter, the blood drained from your face. You were only in a few sentences in, yet you knew exactly what it meant, and who it was. You dropped the envelope to the floor, it got stuck in the grass.

No.

"We lost her. After three days in bed, on her fourth she became one with the earth."

More than two years ago now, when you were first whisked away from your world, she had only recently been diagnosed with a sinister disease that affected the communication between her brain cells, making her forget things. But she was okay. Even though the doctors said they were slowing it down significantly, the end was inevitable. She would end up forgetting the most basic body functions towards the end.

But she was okay.

She had been the most badass person you had ever known in your life.

She would ride horses and scare off the corrupt shepherds in her time. Even though she was denied education above basics, she had been a fierce advocate for it. She had always been a fierce, strong woman. She planned everything.

Including her death, it seemed.

You remembered how she would say she wouldn't want to be bedridden and taken care of for months on end. How she even bought a place in the graveyard around 10 years ago, which caused a huge family drama. She even told her children what to announce once she died. What to wear.

As you read the rest of the letter, tears were streaming from your cheeks, yet your expression was still neutral. You weren't sure if you deserved feeling sad.

Were you sad because you lost her? Or were you sad for your own parent who lost a parent? Were you sad for yourself because one day you would have to do it also for a parent? For a loved one? Or were you sad because once again you were reminded of the bitter reality of mortality? Or were you sad because you couldn't even bid her a proper farewell? 

Even if you were still in your world, you weren’t sure if you could make it on time for her funeral anyway. According to the traditions you were raised with, it had to happen within 24 hours. You lived quite far away already, and this had been one of your primal fears.

Not being able to spend enough time with them, not being able to say farewell.

Wild (and everybody else) noticed the tears streaming down your cheeks, and said something as he put his hand on your shoulder, only lightly pulling you to him. You were frozen, you really weren’t in the mood to try to understand anything.You didn’t move a millimeter. 

Everything came back, everything you tried to hold back. You wondered what they thought, did they think you were lost, kidnapped, dead? What about your partner? How were they doing? Your sister? All the other loved ones? How were they feeling?

Too much. It was too much. It was crashing down upon you. You were scared, the guilt was too heavy. Your vision was blurry. You were rocking yourself back and forth as you pulled your knees to your chest, mumbling to yourself. You held them always back, but it seemed like your defenses had finally given in. They broke. You broke.

You were in a void, where the only sound you could hear was your heart beating as if it was going to escape your chest and the screeching sound ringing in your ears. It was hard to breathe. You felt sick to your stomach. Your hands and feet felt as if ants were walking on them. Cold, but also too warm. You were shivering,

You couldn't hear the sound of the boys chattering, trying to figure out what to do. How some of them understood exactly what was going on, but for the moment how confused they were. The Rancher was mumbling something to your ear, something soothing maybe. Wild’s hand was still over your shoulder, but you did not feel it anymore. 

The void was the only thing that embraced you.

You wailed in pain.

_______________________

The Sailor picked up the envelope from the ground noticing there was something sticking out of it. It was a... picture? Black and white.

It felt really brittled and old in his hand. It had some text he didn't understand. Two relatively young women were in it, smiling. To him, it looked like weird clothing, but they gave off a fancy air with how they posed.

One of them really looked like you.

He put it in his bag for now, to give it to you later.

01/01/1955