#as i was tagging this i was trying to decide whether the entire worlds had switched

[freddos616]

had the completely random idea of vi being the avatar and korra in the arcane universe. idk if vi would be a water bender, but i think it would be cool either way.

[lilacxquartz]

under the bed, where midnight slept

oc male!demon x human female!reader

plot: haunted by a strange presence every night before you go to sleep, you decide to get to the bottom of it.

w.c: 2.4k

tags/themes: one shot, oc, maybe light yandere, kissing mentioned, incubus, demons, reader insert, first person pov, light horror, unrequited feelings

side notes: developed a incubus demon oc a couple of days ago :) his name is midnight & i’m basically gonna try writing for him on and off to flesh out his character (but i can’t draw more of him just yet due to the arm situation).

***

I always went to sleep alone.

Or at least, that’s what I kept telling myself—that’s what I wanted to believe. I lived by myself, after all, so it would have been silly to assume otherwise.

Yet, every single night, I felt it. A presence that lurked within the shadows, watching my every move.

At first, I chalked it up to simple exhaustion, convinced that my job was finally getting to me in the worst possible way. I worked long and heavy hours throughout the week, sometimes even during weekends. My unfortunate reality meant that I was often very tired, leading me to usually be on the brink of dozing off by the end of my shift.

But then my mind began to wander, especially as the recurring experiences became more and more commonplace. My secondary suspicion was that I must have been dreaming or I must have been hallucinating, however, why were the happenings then so linear? I had been under stress before and I have had many nightmares in my life—yet those always manifested in a chaotic manner instead.

And that’s exactly what started to bother me, because dreams, while recurring, couldn’t have been so perfectly refined.

It was always the same experience, in fact.

I would lie down in bed and just as I was on the verge of sleep, I’d hear it—a whisper of some sort, faint and scratchy, like an out of tune radio. Then the floorboards would softly creak and I would feel the second thing; the unmistakable presence of something, maybe even someone else entering my personal space.

For just a split second, right at the cusp of entering the unconscious world; I would feel a strange warmth fill out my otherwise vacant hand. Something unseen that would latch onto my palm, weaving what felt like fingers through mine and squeezing tight.

Yet if I awoke during the night for whatever reason at all, it would immediately vanish from my grasp.

I even checked under the bed with a flashlight once, never finding a single shred of evidence.

And in the mornings, the presence wasn’t felt at all.

Although sometimes, a trace of it did remain; a hint of something that was left behind. It was during the nights when I would get up to drink some water from the kitchen or to go use the bathroom, that I didn’t feel entirely alone. It was an unsettling feeling but it was there—lurking in my peripheral vision, just barely staying hidden.

It was the presence of something uninvited.

Whenever I’d flick the lights on however, there would be absolutely nothing. Not a single trace of evidence remained. Lost overnight, like a distant dream.

It would either happen just as I was about to fall asleep or not at all.

Despite this, it never truly felt like it was a problem.

For one, it wasn’t as if it was actually disrupting my sleep. In fact, I would always wake up feeling well rested with each fresh day no matter how overworked I would be. Yet, I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there must have been more to all of this. Something that lurked in the back of my mind that refused to let it go as an unsolved mystery.

It made sense given my stubborn personality, I supposed. I knew that there had to be a reason for it all, no matter how insane it all seemed.

So when my unrelenting curiosity finally caved in, I could no longer ignore the unanswered question, knowing that I wouldn’t be able to let it go until I finally found an answer.

Whether it was all in my head or not—I had the right to know.

So, on one particular night, I chose to catch whatever it actually was that lurked away in the shadows. My plan was simple enough; choosing to fool it into showing itself by pretending to sleep. I slipped two wireless earbuds into my ears, tuning them into a podcast to hold my attention before laying off to my side, just like usual.

To ensure that I would actually stay awake however, I would on occasion stretch out my legs or clench my fists to ward off any hints of exhaustion along with deep, slowly measured breaths that casted the illusion of feigned slumber.

I continued with that sort of ritual in mind, just barely hanging onto my remaining consciousness, just about to fall asleep from what I believed to be a failed effort, but that’s also right about when I finally heard it; a subtle creaking, perfectly timed with each drawn out breath to mask its approach.

A shiver of unease crept into my body as I felt a lurking presence loom behind me, confirming to every sense I had that I was no longer alone.

In an attempt of bravery, I continued to feign sleep for as long as I possibly could, staying tucked away into my assigned position, having my hand right where it always was, hoping to successfully delude whatever it was waiting for me that I was actually on the verge of dreaming.

However, the moment that something slipped into my waiting hand, my composure began to crumble away. It was definitely a hand that I felt. I could feel it with every fibre of my being, in fact; so warm and soft, yet with an unsettling firmness, like marbled flesh. It clasped my palm tightly, interlocking its digits between my fingers in what felt like a suffocating grip.

My breath then caught in the back of my throat as the momentum faltered despite my efforts to keep my act running as smooth as possible. Towards the surface of my back, I felt something dangerous settle right behind me. Raw skin, hot against my own, pressed up right against my exposed flesh. A wave of panic coursed through my body, anchoring in the pit of my stomach as I then soon felt something attempt to embrace me.

I gasped in retaliation, unintentionally giving away that I was in fact awake.

Without even waiting for its reaction, my body involuntarily tensed, prompting for it to withdraw slightly and with a surge of adrenaline, I then tore away from the unknown presence—lurching to the other side of the bed and pressing my back right up against the wall.

I knew for a fact that it disliked bright lights, so my next course of action was to seize the opportunity of the moonlight that shone right outside to reveal its identity to me instead. With a swift pinch, I flung the blinds open, bathing my bedroom in a cold glow that revealed a monstrous figure to me, basking it in the soft blue light.

At first when I saw it, I didn’t really have a reaction.

I was left feeling stunned… speechless, even.

It was so beyond anything I could comprehend from this world, that I was left rendered unable to form a single coherent thought.

I mean, who could do anything different in my shoes?

Just over the bed sat a kneeling figure; its form shrouded entirely in wisping shadows—its body flickering like black fire with tendrils of darkness whipping from its void-like core. The creature’s eyes glowed a pale grey with lacking pupils, yet I knew that its gaze was pointed right at me.

My eyes continued to widen as I studied it—a rushed slurry of internal scolding flooding my mind, telling me off for daring to be so curious.

Back then, I didn’t know what to expect.

But it certainly wasn’t a monster.

Still, in spite of my fear, I couldn’t pass on the opportunity to learn more about the entity I shared a living space with.

With trembling courage and an insecure tone, I managed to utter, “What… are you?”

The creature’s initial reaction in response to me was to remain stationary, as if showing hesitation within its otherwise threatening demeanour. It then tilted its head to the side, emitting a low static-like hum that only continued to feed further into my unease.

Finally, however, it spoke.

“Don’t be afraid,” were its first words ever to me; it had a deep and almost melodic voice, almost human-like but tainted with something deceptive below the surface. I felt like a deluded sailor talking to a siren lost at sea, yet I was right at home.

I choked back any possible response I had brewing in the back of my mind though, paralysed by my own panic that locked my words somewhere far away. My heart thundered deep within my chest, drowning out all remaining rational thought and sent waves of fear coursing through my entire body.

I was trapped.

A tense moment passed us both by as nothing was said for a while, but then it started to back away from the bed and slowly arose to reveal its true height. Its features became clearer in the moonlight, revealing protruding horns from its head with long wavy locks of black hair.

I gulped hard as I watched it straighten its back and tower over me, its height just barely contained by the confines of my own bedroom—its horns almost scraping against the ceiling. I could just hardly, if at all, comprehend just how tall this creature truly was.

“I only wish to comfort you,” it insisted, taking a calculated step back. Whether it was to lull me into a false sense of security or not, I couldn’t be too certain and despite its words, I couldn’t shake the feeling of impending dread of it being an actual monster, at least at first.

Such a bizarre and surreal display left me wondering if I was in fact dreaming; my mind desperately grasping at anything that could have explained the impossible sight before me, but upon pinching my own skin, only the sharp sting of reality remained.

“Y-you’re real?” I could only ask, a hint of dismay colouring my voice.

“Yes,” it nodded, confirming my fears.

Another strained silence brewed between us for another minute. I stared at the monster and it looked directly back at me. I did my best in the meantime to express my visual discomfort, hoping that it would continue to leave me alone, however, it instead misinterpreted my stunned silence as an invitation to move forward and close the distance between us.

As it leaned in, I pressed myself harder against the wall in a last attempt to convey my reluctance, hoping—praying, that it would take it as a hint to finally back off, but it persisted, ignoring my silent protest and leaving me frozen from fear instead.

With continued building terror, I watched as the creature reached out, extending its hand towards me with what appeared to be sharp fingernails—brushing against my face before cupping my cheeks. I felt its fingers curl around the base of my skull, pulling me closer than what I was comfortable with, daring to press its face against my own, planting a kiss upon my lips.

I shuddered in relief as it slowly withdrew, leaving me once again separated away from it by a short distance. I still couldn’t make out a single feature on its form despite such closeness and yet the memory of its lips on mine lingered with the taste of its ashen breath.

I couldn’t help but feel violated after, yet some familiarity brewed, prompting a disturbing revelation to consider; has this thing done something similar to me before—perhaps when I was fast asleep?

My mind stirred at the thought either way, leaving behind a chill of unrelenting unease that rolled down my spine.

The monster continued to back away until it stood a comfortable distance away from me, leaving me feeling somehow confused. It was a strange situation no matter how I looked at it; it didn’t seem to want to harm nor consume me, rather only offering its touch and comfort.

It was almost as if it sought companionship from me instead.

I watched warily as it drifted just a little closer once more, as if struggling with its own inability to stay away.

“Please,” it pleaded, its tone bordering on desperate, “I only wish for you to sleep well.”

Perhaps it was the lingering aftermath of the kiss that was clouding my judgement, or maybe it was the lack of sleep after a long day, but something within me urged for me to finally surrender to its will, to let my guard down at long last.

Even if it didn’t feel like it was my own decision, at the time.

Swayed by a force unseen, relaxing my senses like some type of sedative.

So against my better judgement, I reluctantly gave in with a reassuring nod, allowing for it to move closer again all the while I did the same.

It wasn’t that I was suddenly unafraid of the monster that was on my bed, rather that I wanted for the peaceful nights to continue.

They were all I had left going for me in this otherwise unforgiving world, my only remaining comfort at the end of a long day.

I proceeded to lay back down on the bed, turning my body off to the side as usual, feeling its presence press against me once more. Its form seemed to envelop me; the shadows that spilled from its core encasing me in a suffocating shroud that pulled me into the darkness along with it. I felt as my own body gradually stiffened, slowly losing the ability to move a single inch at all, yet oddly enough, I didn’t feel a single hint of dread at all anymore.

All I felt was its comfort and warmth instead.

My eyelids drooped heavily as I finally surrendered to my own exhaustion, feeling them weld shut.

I then felt as the monster tightened its grip around me, pulling me even deeper into its personal space. Its breath felt fiery against my flesh as it dug its face into the crook of my neck, displaying an almost protective and maybe even wanting embrace.

As I drifted off into sleep and as its hold continued to tighten, it whispered something into my ear just as I was about to truly go under.

With a body that could have been sculpted from fire alone, its words felt somehow chilling and devoid of any remaining warmth. Its voice was no longer laced with a friendly tone, instead spiked with something much more sinister in its place.

“I’m never letting you go.”

And in that moment, everything changed.

My life was never the same again.

follow up story>>>

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 4

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader summary: you’re eighteen when you find yourself pregnant after Mat leaves for hockey. nearly eight years later, Mat finds out about your daughter and you have to deal with the consequences of not telling him about her.

warnings: not edited, angst, mentions of alcohol, pregnancy, food word count: 1.3k authors note: sorry it's late & short but i was sick and then had writers block. i hope u guys like it!! if u like it let me know but if you hate it also let me know. also HUGE thanks to @barzysbaby for the help with this chapter!! it probably wouldn't have been finished without your help! if anyone wants to be added or taken off the tag list, let me know! you can shoot me a dm, send an ask or fill out my tag list form.

requests are open 🫶🏻 masterlist masterpost ask box taglist form

After your unexpected heart-to-heart with Mat, you begin to realize that you’re starting to tread on some thin ice with your relationship with him. Letting those feelings you’d tucked away start to come back was a recipe for disaster because you had Nora to think about. If he really wanted to be a part of her life, the two of you couldn’t start a relationship because if it went wrong, it would ruin the opportunity for him to be in her life comfortably. 

However, the problem is how perceptive Nora can be. 

Letting yourself have ‘just one moment’ with Mat last night was a bad idea because you wake up on the couch the next morning, Mat holding you close, and a grumpy six-year-old demanding breakfast. 

“Eggs please,” Nora demands, curious eyes watching you and Mat. When you make no move to get up off the couch and get her breakfast, she stomps a foot and crosses her arms.

“Grandma said I could have eggs for breakfast,” she says and then pauses before adding: “and she said I could have pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes.”

“You’re not at grandma’s, are you?” you reply, watching her frown. 

“Well then can you bring me to grandma’s?” she replies without missing a beat.

You open your mouth to tell her no, you won’t be bringing her to grandmas with that attitude when Mat interrupts. 

“I’ll make some pancakes,” he mumbles sleepily, sitting up and pulling you with him. You turn to tell him no but your mouth goes dry because you forgot how good he looks in the morning. You’re staring long enough that he notices and a smirk tugs at his mouth but he doesn’t say anything, instead standing up and offering a hand to Nora. 

“Let’s go make mom some pancakes,” he says and she smiles up at him and it’s just so damn domestic that you want to cry.  

You watch them walk over to the kitchen and start preparing the ingredients while you sit there, trying to pull yourself together. He’s falling so seamlessly into being a parent that you can’t decide how to feel. His attentiveness and patience with her could be temporary and then when he realizes how hard being a parent really is, you’ll be left to clean up the mess he leaves behind. On the other hand, he might be serious about the entire thing and everything could work out.

Nora's giggles catch your attention and you look to see Mat cracking an egg on her forehead like the video he had sent you a few days ago, claiming that he would try it on Nora. Almost as if he can sense that you’re watching them, he looks up and catches your eye and grins, tilting his head slightly.

“You wanna help or just sit there all morning?” he teases so you stand up and make your way to the kitchen to stand next to Nora, kissing the forehead when she grins up at you. 

“How can I help?”

. . .

It was inevitable that the hockey world would catch wind that Mathew Barzal had a child. Whether it was his now ex-girlfriend, or just someone from home that spilled the beans, suddenly all the sports sites had articles up about it. They can't legally say Nora’s name or show photos of her because she’s still a minor, but they can definitely dig up old high school pictures and find your instagram.

It wasn’t hard to put the pieces together for people to realize that you were his baby mama. You had to turn your social media accounts private because you were suddenly having people comment on your photos, and sending DM’s. Most of them weren’t the nicest, accusing you of kid-trapping Mat and while you knew that it was useless to be upset over it, it was hard. They didn’t and would never know the details but it bothered you to no end, and unfortunately, you took your frustration out on Mat, who took whatever you threw at him. You said things you regretted the next morning and he would just smile and tell you it was fine. 

But it wasn’t, and everything crashed down about two weeks after the first article was posted. You woke up to your phone buzzing, calls and texts from your mom, Jax, some other friends and even Liana. 

And a single text from Mat that had just two words, and a link attached.  

baby daddy: I'm sorry. instagram.com/matbarzal 

It was a statement, clearly written by a PR Manager from the Islanders organization. The statement basically said that Mathew Barzal did not in fact have a child. It was just a rumor floating around that a disgruntled fan spread. A lot of people called it bullshit, saying that it was PR cleaning up a mess, which technically they were doing. Then, there were the fans and journalists who did believe the statement and tried to take back whatever they may have said that was mean. 

It wasn’t the things other people were saying about it though, it was what Mat wasn’t saying. After the post, he ghosted you for four days, ignoring all the texts and calls even when they were about Nora. Liana and Nadia still asked to see Nora on the weekend that she normally does so you dropped her off Friday evening, noticing that Mat’s car was nowhere to be seen. Nadia and Liana didn’t say anything about the situation, just thanking you for letting Nora stay over for the night and promising to call if anything came up. You didn’t have anything planned so you went back to your apartment, hoping to catch up on some overdue work you’d been letting pile up.

Halfway through writing a draft for a chapter, there’s a knock on your door. You’re once again suspecting it to be Nadia or Liana with Nora but you come face to face with Mat.

Again.

His eyes are trained on the ground, refusing to meet yours. There are a thousand things you want to say, most of them not nice at all but what comes out is: “beer?” 

His head shoots up, clearly not expecting that response from you but he nods his head and walks in when you step to the side. He toes off his shoes and walks straight towards the kitchen. By instinct, he opens the fridge to get himself a drink and then pauses, looking at you sheepishly.

“Beer?”

“Water,” you reply and he nods, passing you a bottle of water. You both sit at the kitchen island, drinking your respectable drinks in silence until he clears his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t know that they were going to write that. Our public relations manager wrote it and just told me to post it. My agent asked her to clean things up a little because it was getting out of hand. I didn’t want to hurt you or Nora, I swear.” 

“It’s too late for that,” you say sharply. “You said you want to be in Nora’s life but she can’t be a secret, Mat! You can’t say you want to try, and then turn around and tell the world that she’s not yours. If you’re not going to be in this one-hundred percent, then you shouldn’t be here at all.” 

He must take your last statement as a dismissal because he stands up, slips his shoes on and leaves, closing the door a little harder than necessary. 

You sit in silence far too long, part of you foolishly hoping that Mat will come back but you know he won’t. Not today at least. So, you go back to working on your draft but you can’t focus. Part of you wants to try and put yourself in his shoes, to try and understand why he didn’t fight harder against what public relations wanted but you can’t. You can’t imagine not being Nora’s mom and you wonder if maybe this is the way out he was hoping for. Maybe he decided that being a parent was fun for a little while, but when he understood the real consequences and struggles that come along with it, he realized he didn’t want it. That he didn’t want Nora.

Maybe this is his out.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @teapartydreams @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @topguncultleader @shadowsndaisies @lovinbarzal

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Mafia!Bucky’s Daughter x Klaus M.

(This will be a several chapter story and for anyone who read the original Thought I posted on it, I’ve decided to change it up a bit. The event will be the first time Klaus and Y/n meet in Klaus’ Human form)

Warning: Mentions of Traumatic Birth Resulting in a Hysterectomy, Father Abandonment, Near Death Experience

“Tag-List”: @ranisingsnew @ronswhoree @susannahmikaelson @skulliecadaver-blog

Series Masterlist

Bucky had been an amazing father throughout Y/n’s entire childhood.

She loved her Daddy more than anyone in the world and was most assuredly a Daddy’s Girl!

James Barnes had married his girl a few months after finding out she was carrying his child and he never regretted it for a moment. Honestly, he had been trying to get her pregnant since they had met. Unfortunately there had been complications during the pregnancy and their child was born at only 28 weeks, resulting in an emergency hysterectomy and one perfect (albeit early) baby girl. Bucky had been there every single day, even after his wife had been released from the hospital, visiting his Babygirl for hours every day, (regardless of any work he needed to get done) until the Doctors decided she was well enough to go home. Bucky knew, even though they could never have any more children, that Y/F/n was perfect and he would never need anything more.

He had put off his work for nearly an entire month while caring for her. His wife was healing from a traumatic birth and he refused to let anyone but the two of them hold his child. It wasn’t until some idiot made a threat against his family the he snapped back into his normal routine (after killing the idiot of course) and finally let Steve hold his daughter for the first time. Bucky knew that if anyone was going to protect his daughter with the same ferocity he would, that it would be Steve, she was his Godchild after all and he loved Bucky’s girl like his own niece.

The Mob Boss began spending shorter days working and more time with his wife and baby, wanting to be a better father than the one he had, and he was. He was the best father Y/n could have asked for…until she turned 12.

As she grew up her father spent less and less time with her and while she originally assumed it was him just being weird about her growing up, it wasn’t something he got over and it only got worse. He no longer took her to his events, no longer went on shopping trips with her or had their monthly “Daddy/Daughter Day” that had been a tradition since she was 4 years old. Not even his wife could convince him to get over whatever his problem was, knowing he didn’t know what to do with a teenage girl and that he was terrified of messing something up and hurting her and so he just pulled away completely.

Y/n missed her father more than anything and didn’t stop taking it personally until she was 16 years old and he missed her sweet 16 for work, something he had never done before. It was that day that she realized whatever his problem was, it was exactly that. His problem. She was done making excuses for him and that night she gave up on him as he had clearly done on her.

Y/n’s mother seemed to be the only one to realize that whether it took a day, a year or a decade, this would not end well for them in the end but once Bucky made his mind up there was no changing it. A trait, unfortunately, that he passed onto his daughter.

Y/n had opted not to go to college, spending her time writing books that one of her fathers publishing companies was happy to print and that (under an alias) sold very well. She knew that she wanted to leave, to get away from the big empty house where she felt unloved and unneeded, but where could she go that her father wouldn’t find her? Who could she trust that he couldn’t bribe? This was her life, whether she liked it or not, as even if her father ignored her, he would still never let her go. She knew that people would still see her as a target to get to him through, though she thought it pointless, and so he would never let her leave no matter how badly she wanted her own life.

Little did she know she was about to meet someone who would change the course of her life completely.

The true love she wrote about in her books, the fictional idea of soulmates and 2 people belonging together isn’t so fictional after all.

Klaus had spent the last thousand years with one goal in mind.

Breaking his curse.

And here he was, 1000 years after being cursed by his mother, finally free.

He had planned to change other wolves. Planned to start searching for them and building up his army so strong that no one would ever threaten him again, especially not Mikael, but that seemed to be the farthest thing from his mind right now.

He had broken the curse and daggered his brother, getting himself out of the town of horrible memories that was Mystic Falls. He was driving towards the Rocky Mountains where he knew several packs of werewolves resided but after putting up with the building pressure in his head for several hours that seemed to just get stronger and stronger he couldn’t ignore the wolf howling anymore.

He needed to run.

He was somewhere in New York, not far outside the city but far enough that the skyscrapers were gone and replaced with wonderful forests and landscapes. Parking his truck, he walked his way into the trees and laid his clothes on a log, pushing through his shift as quickly as he could and settling into his new body.

In this form he could still think clearly, but his wolf was much more at the forefront of his mind, controlling most of his actions and finally getting to enjoy himself after a millennium of being painfully repressed. And so he ran. He ran through the trees, watching other animals scatter away from his presence and it wasn’t long before he realized that his wolf was looking for something…sniffing for something. However just as he attempted to gain control and go back to the car he caught a wonderful scent. It was amazing, consisting of lavender and the smell of the sky after a heavy thunderstorm…it was the most perfect thing he had ever smelled and as his paws hit the ground hard he began to slow, rounding a line of trees and stopping short as his eyes took in the sight of a girl sat on an old dock.

Klaus could see the girls profile from where he now sat and she was gorgeous. Long, soft Y/H/c hair and big, round Y/E/c eyes that he wanted to be looking at him right now as well as a cute nose and full pink lips that his wolf seemed to only imagine wrapped around his-

His line of thought was cut off by a cracking sound from the old wood and he jumped to his feet just as the girl screamed, disappearing under the dark water. He took several steps forward, waiting to see her come back up but after 3 never ending seconds he was moving once again, faster than he ever had before. He couldn’t identify why he cared at all, only last night he was slaughtering everyone in his path after breaking his curse but now the mere thought of this girl being gone felt like someone drilling a hole into his heart.

As he got to the end of the long dock he leapt into the water, barely registering the freezing cold temperature as he swam down, seeing her flailing and instantly realizing she couldn’t swim. He grabbed the collar of her shirt with his teeth and dragged her up to the surface, pulling her up the muddy bank to the grass and watching closely as she choked up a lot of water, breathing heavily for several minutes on the ground before he nuzzled his nose against her cheek and she gasped, jumping back and nearly choking all over again.

Klaus once again felt like he wasn’t in control of his body which hated but as he laid down in front of her he whined softly, peeking up and watching as she hesitantly held out her hand and rested it on his wet head. He felt his heart stutter as she smiled down at him, continuing to scratch behind his ears with both hands now. ‘You saved my life…thank you. Good boy.’ She praised and while Klaus wanted to scoff, instead he felt his tail wagging behind him causing him to turn his head to see the offending limb and growl at it. ‘You’re a silly boy, aren’t you?’ She laughed, but as she did he noticed how her body had begun to shake from the cold. He stood, moving closer and leaning against her with his warm body making her smile. ‘Come on, let’s go get dried off, huh?’ She stood up carefully and moved to walk back passed the dock, turning to see he hadn’t budged. ‘Come on then! I’ll get you some food?’ With that promise he jumped up, trotting after her, shaking his body off as a wet dog normally would.

The walk wasn’t long before Klaus saw a cabin-like mansion in the woods making him wonder who this girl was that she lived like this, though it didn’t much matter since she was his now either way.

That thought gave him pause as it had come so casually, so normal for his brain to think but it felt right, not just to his wolf mind but to him all around, this girl is his now. He had saved her and she belongs to him.

‘Come in…shh, let’s go.’ She shushed him and he followed her through the sliding door, trying his best to keep his claws on the hard wood floor quiet as he walked through the kitchen with her and up what he assumed was a back staircase. He followed her down the upstairs hall and into a bedroom before she shut and locked the door. ‘Okay…you have to promise not to bite me, okay?’ He tilted his head before sitting down on the floor. ‘No! No, don’t sit, come on! Bathroom!’ She quickly led him to the bathroom and shut the door, turning on the shower. It was a large bathroom and he decided to do as she asked, walking into the glass shower with her as he truly recognized that he was covered in mud. The shower head turned on and rained down from the ceiling and he somehow felt even more like a wet dog as he sat down, grumbling before turning his head and feeling his eyes widen when he realized that his girl had completely stripped naked. She grabbed some shampoo and knelt down beside him, scrubbing the mud away as much as she could and he whined, nuzzling his face between her breasts as she did making her giggle and turn his face away. ‘Bad dog.’ She scolded with a smile on her face.

He allowed her to scrub him with the shampoo before sitting against the wall and watching as she washed her own hair, enjoying the sight he was being gifted from the Gods right now.

The shower was over quickly and she held Klaus down, rubbing him over with a towel before using another one for herself and pulling on some fuzzy pajamas.

‘Okay, are you hungry? You want some food buddy, huh?’ He barked and she laughed, opening the door and walking back down the stairs to the kitchen where a man stood eating ice cream. ‘Hey Steve.’ She greeted and as the man went to greet her back he jumped, staring at Klaus in shock.

‘Y/n! What the Fuck is that thing?!’ He snapped.

Huh…Y/n. At least now he knows his girls name.

‘It’s called a wolf Steve…are you losing it?’ She teased, turning on the stove and pouring some oil into a pan.

‘Where did you get it?!’ She shrugged.

‘I met him on my walk earlier, he’s a sweetheart. I just gave him a bath so he doesn’t stink anymore and now he’s gonna get a big, juicy steak! Isn’t he?! Yes he is! Cause he’s such a good boy!’ There was a part of Klaus that wanted to roll his eyes at being spoken to like a pet but it was a small part compared to the wolf part that quite likes her caring for him and being called a ‘Good Boy’ which was new for him…and the part of his wolf that also really wants that steak.

She held it down on all sides in the pan to color before allowing it to cook, turning to the fridge and grabbing milk, making herself a bowl of cereal, flipping the steak in between. ‘Kid, you can’t keep him, you know that. Right?’

She looked up at Steve with a glare. ‘Of course I can! He’s my friend, and it’s not like I can’t afford to buy him food. Look, it’s not your business Steve, okay? Just stay out of it.’ Y/n told him as she cleaned up and Steve glared half heartedly prompting Klaus to growl, both of them looking at him in shock. ‘No, none of that. It’s okay. The mean man isn’t going to take you away, I promise.’ Y/n knelt down and scratched behind his ears, prompting the groan that rose in his throat almost like a purring noise-one that Klaus would deny making until the day he dies.

With that Steve was walking out of the room and Y/n was cutting up the steak before turning and walking back up to her room with everything on a tray.

‘Here bud.’ She gestured beside the bed and he moved beside her, laying down and allowing her to put the bowl of steak in front of him as well as one full of bottled water. ‘Don’t worry about Steve, he just works for my Dad. They’ve been best friends since they were kids. My Dad will never say anything about you to me, he’ll make my Mom do it, he stopped talking to me a long time ago.’ She explained, turning on her TV and eating her cereal. He looked up at her and tilted his head making her smile. ‘Aww, you’re so cute! It’s like you’re actually listening to me…my Dad is the head of the Mafia here in New York, has been for years. We used to be close…really close…I was Daddy’s little girl, ya know?’ Klaus could see and hear the pain in her when she spoke about him. Her father had clearly really hurt her and he didn’t like that one little bit. ‘He just stopped loving me one day. Stopped taking me to all his events, stopped having our Daddy/Daughter Days…he just stopped talking to me all together…how is that fair?! I didn’t do anything but grow up! He had to know that was gonna happen, right?! What kind of fucking moron doesn’t? But he gets mad at me for what? Being a teenager? I didn’t stop talking to him, or start treating him badly-isn’t that my job? I’m supposed to be the mean one now! And yet my grown father is treating me like shit!?’

Klaus could see how angry she was getting and wanted to comfort his mate as the tears began falling. Clearly she had been keeping these feelings inside for a long time, probably having no one to talk to. If what she said about her father is true then anyone in this house would probably run and tell on her for anything she said about him, except maybe her mother.

He jumped up onto the bed and licked over her face, prompting her to giggle as he did, snuggling up against her and making her wrap her arms around him. ‘Thanks Bud…I have to call you something…what should your name be?’ She wondered and Klaus prayed silently for his mate not to name his wolf something stupid. ‘We could go with something classic for a black dog like…Shadow or Sirius?’ He grumbled, not wanting to be named after the dog from Harry Potter. ‘Too boring, something exotic then like…Obsidian or Pandora! No, wait, that’s a girls name…you are a boy, right?’ She asked, leaning over as if to check and he “yipped” snapping his teeth together. ‘Okay, you’re a boy. I’m teasing, I bathed you, remember?’ Yes, he remembers, he had to be very conscious of not having any issues there while she was rubbing her soft hands over every inch of his body. ‘I got it! We’ll call you Fenrir, after the wolf God, Lokis son. He’s a huge wolf, strong and brave. Misunderstood and abused…and really loyal. Like my good boy right here.’

Klaus had to admit, of all the stupid names she could have picked, he liked that one. It fit, that would have to be his wolfs name from now on and according to the howl in his head he didn’t mind.

Klaus snuggled up with Y/n as it got darker outside and she began to drift off, allowing her to hold onto him as she fell asleep. He stayed there for a while as she slept, watching the TV before the door opened and a women stepped in.

‘Y/n, you aren’t going to believe this. Steve is insisting you have a wolf in your-‘ she cut herself off as she made eye contact with Klaus and he lifted his head to look at her before grumbling and resting his head down across Y/n’s back. ‘This won’t end well…’

Hybrids Mafia Princess Moodboard

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

[omamervt]

yo yo! ttrpg trick or treat!

I mean if you're gonna come at me with this I'm never gonna turn down a chance to talk about City of Mist and its spinoffs, the game I am the most normal anyone has ever been about anything. (if I understand the rules correctly, this is Treat)

ahem.

City of Mist is an urban fantasy noir RPG heavily inspired by Netflix's Daredevil TV series. It now comes in LGBT-themed Sentai flavor (Queerz!) and Cyberpunk flavor ( :Otherscape) as well, with a High Fantasy version (Legend in the Mist) in the works! It also has some pretty great community support, just look up City of Mist Garage on DriveThruRPG!

The thing this game does that makes it special to me is that player creation and advancement is almost 100% driven by character development, and it does it better than most other RPGs that I've seen that try to offer the same.

at character creation, you choose four Themes for your character. You use these themes to determine what kind of character you're working with, and what kind of skills their life experience might have given them. It's also how you can tie in fantasy elements and give yourself literal super powers.

Once you've chosen your Themes, you answer four questions about your character for each Theme. These become your Power Tags, which you use in place of stats to make your roll modifiers, as well as your Weakness Tags, which you or the MC can invoke to give you a -1 to a roll, or to add a complication to the current scene. (this also gives you an XP point in that Theme so it's worth it to you to let this happen.)

But the other thing that comes with every Theme is a Mystery or an Identity. The idea of City of Mist is that you aren't born with powers, you Awaken to them when a Mythos - an idea, concept, or character from a story - decides to enact its will through you. Examples from the pre-made characters would be Excalibur, the wealthy socialite who became the Rift of King Arthur after she finds the Ultimate Weapon, which manifests for her as a piece of jewlery that transforms into whatever she needs in the moment. But the idea of a Mythos never fully survives contact with reality, as your character is still the person they were before - someone with a life, family, friends, goals - an identity. Another of the pre-gens is Kit, a Kitsune spirit who manifested itself fully in our world, but has disguised itself as a teenage girl after falling in love with a boy. Her affections form an identity outside of her purpose as a Mythos.

You as a player have the choice between trying to live the life you had before by creating Identities for your Logos themes - things that anchor you to your life in this world - or by pursing mysteries for your Mythos themes - finding out what your Mythos expects of you, and then deciding whether or not to do it.

Progression in this is interesting because the main story will put your characters' identities in conflict with the will of their Mythos, as well as the needs of the group as a whole. As you play, you can decide that your character is ignoring their Mystery to the point that getting answers no longer truly matters to them, or abandoning their Identity to the point that they wouldn't recognize their old self anymore. The attention to the themes you advance the plot of will grant you new powers in those themes, whereas the ones you allow to fade away will eventually be replaced by new character aspects that became important in the meantime. And it happens entirely at your discretion - the MC can't tell you to mark Crack/Fade on a Theme, they can't force you to explore your characters' personal story arc, but doing so MAKES YOUR CHARACTER GROW AND CHANGE, WHICH IS HOW YOU LEVEL UP!

I could probably write a few more paragraphs about this game if anyone cared.

[littleleelee]

New years kiss

Bro why the fuck aint there ANY for mihawks so far- im pissed.

so I'll do it for yall xd i have sum drafts for other characters, but i have shit to do so u get mihawk for now.

this is also kinda my first actual fic.. please spare me (┬┬﹏┬┬)

tw: Alcohol consumption (wine, ofc), Kissing (also ofc......) Sappy somewhat? overstimulated reader! *Loud sounds*, major fluff n cuddles bc ya buds touch starved, but also angsty? Gn reader ~being lover, dearest, partner, S/O, reader, and You/your

Word count: 1370! Damn-

It had been... a year, for the Dracule's. Mostly with the formation of The Cross Guild. When the warlords where disbanded, Mihawk had considered leaving his lover at a completely different island somewhere, to keep them away from what problems the Guild could bring them. However convincingly, reader got to tag along Mihawks side. Reader reminded Mihawk of his vows to his S/O,

"Through water and blood, I vow that I shall do whatever it takes, to keep you by my side. Even if the world truly turns upside down, you are not leaving my side".

Reader wasn't entirely expecting... buggy of all people. Reader preferred to stay away from buggy at all costs if Mihawk wasn't around (which mihawk greatly used as an excuse when he could). The both of them agreed to try and stay away from the... rowdier parts of the Big top ship. Which sadly was everywhere. The year was coming to an end and every breathing thing on the ship was screaming. Mihawk and reader had settled in the not small, but decent sized room they were given when they had arrived. Mihawk was enjoying a vintage, he had already drunk half of his bottle without realizing, and when he did finally notice, his attention had flicked to his lover, who was laying net to him on their bed.

Mihawk thought you were asleep, however his Haki told him otherwise. You were most definitely not asleep as you looked. He couldn't decide whether to say something, or to gently touch you, till you said something. "I can feel you staring, you a-also haven't flipped a page; for a w-while." reader said, tone shaken an unfocused. Which was HIGHLY, unlike your character. Mihawk looked to his book, which was now on the nightstand then back to his lover next to him. Sighing, he placed the empty wine class on his nightstand, and turned over to place a gentle grasp at your hip.

You flinched, swiftly bringing your hands to your ears before you stopped, Mihawk didn't take his hand away, instead turning you to your other side to meet him face to face. Your eyes were red from rubbing them, making them heavily glassy with unshed tears. "My Dearest, what has you so riled up like this?" his tone softer than normally, his face as flat as ever, tho you could notice the subtle differences that made his question genuine.

You meet his gaze has his hand moved from your hip, softly rubbing up and down your arm. Your voice shaky, "I-... it's the-" before you could finish a series of loud pops had echoed through the ship all the way to your shared room. You flinched once more, however much stronger than before. Your hands completely holding your ears down, with your knees now completely at your torso. Mihawks eyes slightly widened, his expression shifting slightly as a vein curved itself in his hairline, clenching his jaw he breathed through his noise and pulled himself closer to you wrapping himself tightly around you.

Reader first shifted at this, unsure. However, quickly they clung around their Husbands neck, burying their face into his pulse point. Their heavy breathing becoming more noticeable, and uneven. Mihawk brought a hand to caressing the back of their head, running his fingers through their hair. Shushing them, holding them as reader had done for him. He thought back thought the year, how many times reader had held and stayed by his side when he was drained or wasn't in the mood for anything. His S/O had always been there, but he couldn't recall a time where he was the one comforting reader, he could remember moments where they would seem off, however. Voice cracked, eyes red and puffy. These thoughts were interrupted by another loud crash, causing the reader in mihawks arms to startle.

"Hush.... my love, they won't last much longer." Mihawk stated as he held you tighter. You just nodded, still pressed against his neck. Mihawk honestly... had no clue how to approach you, he had so many questions he wanted to ask you. However, it didn't seem an appropriate time for such questions. he could hear a rough countdown happening outside...

"30.. 29.. 28!!"

Mihawks hand that was in your hair was now perched on your chin, tilting you too meet his golden stare as his other hand pulled you slightly away, you sniffled as you tilted your head in confusion.

"24,, 23,, 22"

"My dearest. I may not be... the most emotional human, I may not be as affectionate either. But it doesn't mean I don't know what they are, and I can tell somethings bothering you, and it has been for a while, am I correct?"

"20,, 19,, 18!!"

you stared at him, face red and puffy, you didn't know how to respond, yes, he was right, but what- why bring it up? Mihawk had just nodded, lips slightly tearing from their straight line, to a very small, unnoticeable to an untrained eye frown.

"16,, 15,, 14"

"For years, not even just this one, you have seen every bit of me. Even the parts I didn't entirely know I could express, you've been there for me, yet you have-not allowed me to aid you in your moments of distress, of need". God, his emphasis and tone on the last word. Youd think he was angry with you. or maybe even drunk...

"12,, 11, 10!!!"

Everything got so much louder. your unshed tears started to pour out, " And that isn't even the start. You act like everything is fine, never letting me help. You can't keep this up, not with what's going on around us now." he won't let up, his voice is starting to speed up. He doesn't do that.

"8,, 7,, 6"!!

"My fire and flood, love and dearest, I will not allow you to shed your tears alone, to carry this burden and mine on your shoulders alone. We vowed, to share these burdens together, had we not?" he's speaking even faster now, face lax, but concerned. You have been just staring at him, unable to form words at this. How easily, he could read you like his usual books.

"5, ,, 4 ,, , 3!!"

your tears were like rivers, pouring from your eyes, down your cheek to the sheets below you. Mihawks grip on you had tightened so significantly that you thought he was going to leave a bruise in the morning.

"If I could have just one wish, for another year with you, my dearest. Please. allow me to hold and sooth you, as you have me for years on end." His voice was cracked, he leaned in and stole whatever words you were going to say.

"2, , 1!!"

"HAPp-"

All the noise was drowned out. Mihawks lips pressed to yours, unlike the swift and soft ones he usually gave you. No, this one was different. As his tounge prodded at your lower lip, the kiss developed into a passionate, deep, loving one. The conjoining of lips locking was so different than what you were used too, but you didn't care. you craved love like this for so long, your not letting this go so fast.

Mihawk finally lets reader and him breath, placing his forehead against his lovers. "i-im sorry..." reader squeaked out, again... again... and again. Mihawk pulled them back against his chest. but they wouldn't stop saying it. Sorry, sorry, S o r r y. Why was his dearest sorry? "You have done nothing wrong, love;" he assures the babbling wreck in his neck. "; but please... can you promise me, you'll let me closer? let me help... when I can." he pleads with his reader.

Reader doesn't let up, they refuse to take their face out of mihawks neck, arms tightly around his torso. "I. c-can't promise, bu-ut I can Try." That was more than enough for Mihawk, he would have to plan accordingly for situations in the morning. but for now....

He and his dearest reader deserved some rest tonight. For Tomorrow was the start of a new day, a new year. one of unknown pain. So tonight, while they can, they enjoy the peace they do have.

~Fin~

YAHHHOOOOOOO my damn its 3am currently- i just had to get this out xd i hope it suffices as a good fic- ive never written one b4 so im just babbling qwp Headers found on google, thank you so much for reading <3

if there are any pronoun mistakes lmk.. im pretty sure there aint tho..

[melodygatesauthor]

Chapter 10: The Pain of Morality

prof!Steven Grant-Jake Lockley-Marc Spector X f!Reader

Edited by: @welcometostayingawake

Mood Boards - Book Cover - Masterlist

Chapter Summary:

You and Steven agree to meet after class in his office. Things get a little out of hand.

Tags/Summary (these are for the ENTIRE fic):

college AU, no powers/not in MCU/no Khonshu, talk of mental illness, Marc has DID, forbidden relationship, age gap, reader is 21y/o, Boys are 38y/o, reader attends college in America but isn't necessarily American, smut, sex, masturbation, p in v, creampies galore, reader is on birth control, dubious consent due to identity issues, ANGST, romance, fluff and smut, oral sex, falling in love, reader is not race coded, minor mentions of alcohol addiction and depression.

Word Count: 4.4k

Steven: For the record I wish I could buy you a coffee for class.

Steven: Do you think someone would think that was weird?

Steven: I’m just gonna do it.

Steven: If anyone says anything we can just make something up.

Steven: Nevermind please ignore me. S’probably not a good idea.

You smiled down at your phone while you imagined the mental back and forth Steven must’ve done in the morning while trying to decide whether or not he should get you a coffee. Despite the fact that he couldn’t get it for you, your heart swelled at the thoughtfulness of his texts. You wondered how often Steven was thinking about you. One thing was for sure, you were always thinking about him.

You: Don’t stress about it. See you in a bit!

You: <3

Steven: Meet in my office after class? Forget your knickers. Can you wear that skirt I like? :) <3

You sent him a thumbs up before finally getting all your things together and heading out the door. A love-struck smile took over your face while you walked to the lecture building. You had a skip in your step, unable to stop thinking about Steven and the weekend you’d spent together. You wondered when the next time you’d be able to get alone time with him again. Not only were you plagued by the nagging need between your legs, you also just wanted to be in his presence without a care of who might see you.

You’d worn the skirt he’d asked you to wear, despite the chill in the air. Not wearing any panties to class was also a little bold, but you meant it when you told Steven you’d do anything for him. You felt so connected, like nothing else mattered to you. All you wanted was to be around him as much as possible, and give him anything you could to make him look at you with that gaze of longing you craved.

“So we’re clear?” Marc asked, looking at Steven through the reflection of his paperweight.

“I’m gettin’ so tired of having to tell you the same thing over and over mate. I’m not breakin’ up with her. You can pester me all you like, but she’s staying.” He protested, typing on his laptop as though he weren’t bothered by the words Marc was saying.

“Steven…” He took his glasses off his face and slammed them on his desk in frustration. One of the lenses popped out.

“Look what you’ve done.” He grumbled, holding the lens up to the frame, unable to pop it back in easily “gonna need to make an eye appointment now, damn it. Would you just piss off already?”

“I don’t need to tell you why this is dangerous Steven. You’re going to get us killed. If they find out about her, she might get hurt too. You’re putting everyone in danger and-”

Marc continued talking but Steven heard nothing when he saw you walk through the doors to the classroom. There you were, breathtaking as ever, wearing exactly what he’d asked you to wear. He wondered if you really did leave your panties behind. He gulped harshly, lips parting while he stared.

There was that look he always gave you, like his entire world stopped moving. Steven tucked the curl that normally sat in front of his face away so he could look at you better. It took everything in you not to run to him and let your body melt into his right then and there. If not for the other students starting to file in behind you, you might’ve stolen a kiss or two.

He made it impossible to focus, being as effortlessly attractive as he tended to be. He fell into rhythm, pacing back and forth slowly while discussing the topic from the textbook you hadn’t studied enough of. The more he talked, the more you wished his mouth was working over your cunt, forcing you to arch your back and scream his name into his apartment. At some point he wiped his lips, and all you could think about were his thick fingers pumping in and out of your hole, stretching you out.

He looked at you, and you saw a smile form over his lips, unable to contain the way you made him feel. He kept talking to the class, not skipping a beat, but you noticed his cheeks turning several shades of red every time your eyes met.

Class felt like it lasted forever. You’d been thinking about all the things you and Steven would do once you were alone in his office. You were feeling needy, desperate, and you were sure you were dripping down your thigh by the time Steven finally ended the lecture. You had to stop yourself from flat out running to his office. When you got there, you closed the door behind you quickly. You dropped your bags before practically throwing yourself at him. He wrapped his arms around you tightly.

“Thought you were gonna be talking about–” he interrupted you sassing him with a kiss, “Queen Mary forever.”

Steven’s tongue tangled with yours in his heated desperation. He stole your breath, one kiss at a time. He groaned deeply as he parted from you for air.

“Queen Elizabeth.” He corrected you.

“Mmm,” you moaned into his mouth when you went back in for more.

He tasted so good you wanted to devour him. You pushed Steven back against the desk. He reached under your skirt and started circling his fingers around your clit, wasting no time finding it. You gasped, closing your eyes while resting your forehead against his chest.. He pressed some gentle kisses against your temple, the tenderness causing your stomach to swoop on top of your heady desire. You rolled your hips into his fingers further, desperate for more friction.

“Feeling needy today, love?” He asked, lips moving against your ear now.

“Yes-mmm-yes.”

You lifted your head again to meet his gaze. He leaned back against the desk and removed his hand from your cunt so you could straddle his knee. Steven kissed you again, deeper this time, reaching up to cup the back of your neck and pull you in tight.

You started grinding on his thigh, groaning into him with every pass of his lips over yours. You tipped your head to the side, exposing your neck for him to suck on, drawing more soft whimpers from your lips. You grabbed on to his shirt tightly, rutting forward over his leg, feeling the brush of the fabric against your sensitive clit.

“Oh, Steven,” you whined in his ear.

“Yes, love, does that feel good?”

You nodded, “mm…mhm”

“Good. Can feel you soaking through my slacks, use me however you want, dove. Take what you need,” and he meant every word, wanting nothing more than to hear his name fall from your lips when you finally came undone.

He continued sucking on your neck, reaching his hands under your skirt to squeeze your rear tightly, helping you slide over his thigh faster. You wished you could fuck him, right there and then, but you knew it was too risky in his office, especially with how loud the both of you were. You reached up and grabbed the back of his curly head tight while keeping your other hand gripping his shirt. Steven moaned into your throat, churning his hips lightly against you. You felt how hard he was, how hungry his movements were to get inside of you again.

“Mm, can’t wait to have you again, are you free this weekend?” Steven was almost growling in between his words.

“Yes…of course, I’ll be there.”

He wanted you so badly. Steven’s fingers were leaving divots in your ass cheeks, holding onto you tightly, helping you move faster against him. He loved the way your heat felt on his leg while you dragged your pussy lips over the fabric of his pants. Your skin tasted so sweet under his tongue as he continued leaving sloppy kisses over your neck. Your throat vibrated in a low moan.

“I’m so close,” you whispered softly, “then I want to taste you, Steven.”

Steven’s breath caught in his throat. He stopped kissing your neck to cup your cheeks and force you to look in his widened eyes.

“Y-you want to…love, do you mean…you want to put it in your…” Steven’s body trembled with excitement.

“Wanna know what you taste like.”

And then Steven’s lips were crashing into yours again, you were almost there, the tingling was washing over your body in a colossal wave–

The heels came in rapidly, so fast that you hardly had time to register Steven’s quick moves. You could only gasp as he pushed you back. The handle on the door behind you turned and you pulled your skirt down fast. Steven’s face was panicked as he scrambled to the other side of his desk, sitting down quickly.

“Steven your hair!” You hissed in a whisper, noticing what a mess you’d made of it.

“Stevie!” 

Donna, the dean of the university, walked into the room like a storm.

Steven didn’t like Donna. She’d hired him for the position, but made it abundantly clear to him and everyone else that he was the only candidate. Based on her constant attitude, he assumed that she didn't like him. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was late for the interview, or if it was because she was just a tough woman to get along with, but she clearly had a chip on her shoulder with him from the start. It also didn’t help that she called him Stevie the entire time, despite him correcting her over and over.

“I’m going around to all the…” She trailed off when she turned and noticed you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you’ve got…happenin’ in here.”

She looked you up and down. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks. Did she think something was suspicious about you being in there? Surely not. It wasn’t weird for a student to be in their professor’s office, especially since you had on record that he was a tutor for you, all she had to do was look it up. Maybe having the door closed was a red flag, and maybe your hair was a little disheveled, but there was nothing to suggest you were doing…what you were doing.

Steven felt all his blood run cold. ‘Whatever you’ve got happenin’ in here,’ she’d said. 

She knew…it was so obvious that she could tell something was happening between you and him before she walked in. He saw her look you up and down, making a face of disgust. The panic was starting to set into his bones, his leg bouncing under his desk. 

Donna always makes that face, Steven told himself.

But this time it was different. This time…Marc’s fears were being realized before Steven’s very eyes. Marc had warned him on several occasions that if they were caught, it could mean their death. Earlier, before you’d walked into class, Marc reminded Steven that you were at risk if something went south too. This stupid affair could get you hurt.

Steven looked at you, and you looked back at him helplessly. His lips pressed into a thin line when he finally realized what he needed to do, his heart dropping into his stomach. He never should’ve slept with you. Marc was right. He never should’ve crossed that line, never should have asked you to watch Gus, never should’ve brought you into their fucked up life. This was all his fault. Now he had to suffer the consequences and drag you down with him.

“This is it, Steven. You’ve been caught, what are you going to do now? Hm?” Marc’s tone held a self-righteous air that Steven didn’t appreciate, though he deserved it.

“Donna, we were just discussing the paper due on Wednesday that I’ve assigned in my class. What can I help you with?” Steven was trying to divert the conversation away from you.

“Just going around to all the departments and checkin’ in. I can come back.”

She kept looking over at you, and then back to Steven. Even if she didn’t think something was actually happening, she certainly was acting like she was suspicious of you being there. You gulped deeply, turning your eyes to Steven again. You felt the anxiety catching in your chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Yeah, yeah that would be great. I’ll come to your office this afternoon.” Steven said with a friendly smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Stevie, I leave at five.” She looked you up and down one more time before leaving the room.

You let out a huge sigh of relief followed by a nervous laugh. You ran your hands over your face and shook your head, looking over at Steven who was just staring blankly at the glass paperweight on his desk. What you didn’t see, was the one-sided conversation happening in Steven’s reflection.

“That was too close. I know you don’t want to do it, Steven, I know, and I’m so sorry.” Marc was being sincere, and Steven could feel that. Marc did feel bad for him. “I know you care about her, but that’s why it’s time to let it go now, before it gets worse. The longer you keep this going the harder and more dangerous–”

“Steven.” You said, seeing him look up at you with glistening eyes. “You okay? I was talking to you.”

Steven was looking at you and thinking about how you had no idea that your world was about to shatter around you. There was still time for him to let it go and keep pretending like nothing was wrong. If Donna did suspect something, and this affair went public…

He would rather leave you with a broken heart than see you dead.

“I-I’m sorry I was just…just thinking about…” He gulped, standing up and pressing his palm against the desk to stabilize himself. He looked at the wooden surface, clearly averting his gaze from yours.

He would rather walk over a mile of hot coals than say what he needed to say.

“Yeah, that was close. We’ll just have to be more careful next time. Can’t believe-”

“No, love, no.” Steven looked right at you now.

You watched a tear fall down his cheek, he wiped it away quickly. 

“We can’t have a next time.”

Your body seized in place. Your feet stepped forward, despite your voice getting stuck in your throat. You replayed his words in your head as if you hadn’t heard him clearly. Can’t have a next time. Immediately your bottom lip began to quiver. This couldn’t be real. Surely, you’d misheard what he said. You’d both known that this was a risk, that was why you avoided it before giving up on fighting the gravitational force pulling you towards each other. Was he really running away in fear over almost getting caught once?

“W-what do you…Steven, what are you saying?” You felt tears threatening your own eyes. He couldn’t be saying what you thought he was saying. .

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be.” He pressed his lips together tightly, “please.” Steven’s face broke into a sob. “We can’t do this anymore.”

“Steven, where is this coming from? We knew this was risky when we started!” You got closer to him, desperate to get to him, but he put up a hand in protest. Lowering your voice to a desperate whisper, you pleaded with him. “Don’t…don’t do this. We can be more careful next time, we–”

“No, you have to go.” He said firmly, “You have to go, and you have to forget about me. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, and I never should’ve dragged you into this.”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m a kid? I’m twenty-one years old, I chose to do this, you can’t–”

“Yes I can!” Steven shouted at you for the first time since you’d known him. “You don’t know a thing about me. I’m not the man you think I am.”

The room was filled with a silence that tore through your soul. You had nothing to say to that, and frankly, you weren’t sure how you were supposed to talk to him after he yelled at you. Several emotions played out on Steven’s face before he finally looked away from you, and you could tell there was no more negotiating with him. He was right, you didn’t know anything about him. You knew that he was a history professor, that he was from London, and that he liked literature and art. You’d always felt like Steven was hiding something based on the way he didn’t want you at his apartment in the beginning, and you hadn’t forgotten how short he was when you tried to talk to him about his brothers.

Since you could see that this wasn’t going to end well, you went for a final stab, a last attempt to make him feel guilty for doing what he did to you; for taking what he took from you.

“You know, you should be fucking disgusted with yourself.” You started crying despite your desire to appear strong. “I gave you everything.” You grabbed your bags. “Is this what you do? Jump from college to college fucking your virgin students? Or just the stupid ones?”

“I’m sorry.”

You huffed on your way out the door on shaky legs, not taking another look at him. You slammed the door behind yourself harshly, half wishing the entire building would collapse around it. For good measure, you kicked it and then rushed down the hall to get to your dorm. You had to get away before anyone saw what a mess you were leaving his office.

Steven quickly ran to the door, locking it before turning and sliding his back against it, dropping to the floor in a slump. Nothing had ever hurt like this. Even when Steven found out he was part of a system within Marc’s mind, he hadn’t been this upset. This felt like his chest was caving in, like it was hard for his lungs to function. He simply wished he could pass out so he didn’t have to feel the heartbreak. He started sobbing noisily, letting out pained wails that Jake nor Marc had ever heard from him.

Your words had stung. Those final remarks you’d made in your pained anger, though petty, had twisted the knife in his self-inflicted wound. Steven didn’t blame you, you had every right to be mad. In fact, if you’d walked up and struck him, he probably would’ve understood.

Marc started stirring around restlessly, but he approached Steven like a big brother would a younger one. He’d never intended for Steven to get hurt, or you for that matter. He only wanted to protect the three of them, and make sure that they could survive in this new life they made. Marc and Jake had worked everything out so perfectly, and then you’d come along and swept Steven right off his feet, screwing up the whole thing.

“I know that was tough Steven, but you did the right thing,” Marc said in a gentle tone.

Jake remained quiet, but Steven could feel him there, present just below the surface.

“I can’t do this. I can’t teach here anymore. I’m gonna see her everywhere I go. Oh God…I took her…I took her innocence from her not two days ago! Marc…” Steven started breathing heavily, clutching his chest tightly. “I think I’m gonna have a panic attack.”

“You’re not going to have a panic attack, you’ll be alright, just breathe through it.”

“No, no Marc, I really hurt her. Did you see…” he took a labored breath, “did you see the look on her f-face? I broke her heart. We have to go somewhere else, I can’t ever look at her again, I might die. I have to get a new job.”

“You’re not going to die, and you can’t just leave your job, alright? It’s a good job, Steven. We had to work really hard to get you in here. You didn’t exactly…earn your PhD.” Steven started hyperventilating, “I don’t wanna sound like a jerk but, if you’d just done what I said from the start–”

“No, no, no Marc, no!” Steven stood up and started pacing, wringing his hands in front of him, “you think I didn’t know the entire time that what I was doing was wrong? ‘Course I knew! I just…” Steven stopped and looked out of the only window in the room down to the courtyard below. “I think I love her, Marc.”

The voice in Steven’s head stopped while Steven broke down again into another flurry of tears and sniffles that he couldn’t control. Marc knew Steven loved you, he could feel it seeping into the crevices of their mind. Saying the words I love her out loud was what broke Steven to a point that even Marc was worried they may never see him again.

When Marc came to the front, something he hadn’t experienced in weeks, he took a deep breath before wiping the tears from his eyes. He still felt the damp spot on Steven’s pants from where you’d been grinding on him before Donna interrupted. Marc wished more than anything that it hadn’t come to this, but he was back in control again, and he was going to have to clean up Steven’s mess until he came back.

Marc looked at his own reflection in the paperweight, and he only saw Jake staring back.

“I can’t feel him.”

“I know…but he always comes back. We just have to wait.”

----

If there was ever a good time to use your sick days at school, it was while you were curled up in your bed emptying box after box of kleenex. You felt pathetic, crying endlessly over Steven, but he’d hurt you more than you could form into words. Virginity was one of those things that you only had one rule for…give it to someone you love. You didn’t care about waiting for marriage, but you wanted to wait for the right one, and you thought you had.

When Layla asked you what was wrong, you were grateful that she was respectful enough of your boundaries not to press when you told her you didn’t want to talk about it. In truth, Layla probably was someone you could trust with this. You’d been roommates since your first year, and you were good friends. She’d kept secrets for you before, but not one of this caliber.

The thought crossed your mind to tell the dean the truth. You thought about going to her and letting her know that Steven had taken advantage of you. It wasn’t all his fault, you’d been very persistent, but a part of you, the part that felt angry, wanted to make him suffer the way you were suffering. Making him lose his career might be satisfying, but you knew that feeling would only be temporary, and you’d end up feeling guilty before long. Not to mention, you recalled reading that students could also be held liable for their inappropriate actions. You were an adult after all. You’d made your choice to sleep with your professor, and now you had to live with that.

You spent the next day in and out of sleep, waking up only to hear his words replay in your mind, and crying yourself back to sleep. You pulled out your phone on Wednesday morning.

You: Can we please talk? I can’t accept that this is over. Not after this weekend.

You had sent that on Monday after going back to your dorm. He didn’t answer. You don’t know what compelled you to go to class that morning. You thought perhaps it was the small part of you that hoped Steven would see you and completely change his mind, realizing that he was wrong. You also wanted him to see your tearstained face and feel guilty for what he’d done, but when you steeled yourself and walked through the classroom door, he wasn’t there.

You should feel relieved. You should be glad that he didn’t want to show his face after what he did. But you weren’t. One of the other history professors was able to cover the class on Steven’s behalf. You felt a pit settle in your stomach. Was he missing class because of you? The only thing this told you was that Steven was a coward and a pig; only intent on sleeping with you and then dropping you like you were nothing.

So why did you still feel like he was something? Why were you still thinking about all the times his face softened when he saw you, into the most loving gaze anyone had ever shown you? The way he always treated you like you were so important, taking you on a date to the art gallery and stuttering when you said sweet nothings that took him off guard. Something wasn’t adding up in your mind. The way he had treated you all this time didn’t add up to someone who just wanted to fuck you and dump you right after.

But that’s what he’d done.

By some miracle, you held yourself together for the day, getting through your classes. You weren’t completely free of tears, and you’d had to go to the bathroom a few times to wipe your tears, fix your makeup and go back, but you made it. That was the important thing.

It was dark when you walked back to your dorm that night. You recalled the times that Steven had walked back with you, and you’d never felt so alone. 

You weren’t alone though. There was a stern set of eyes that watched your every step, making sure you made it back in one piece. When he saw you get inside safely, a satisfied smile spread over his face. He would make sure you were safe whenever he could, despite knowing Marc would prefer they all pretended you never existed.

Jake could never forget you existed. He wasn’t able to get you out of his head, even if Steven had cast you aside. Jake knew how to keep a secret, and he intended to keep you. He would make sure you wouldn’t lose yourself to the pain Steven had caused.

Previous Chapter - Next Chapter

Moon Knight Masterlist

TAGLIST (please let me know if you would like to be added or removed): @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction, @my-secret-shame, @thatmomwitchfriend, @alexxavicry, @welcometostayingawake, @jake-g-lockley, @campingwiththecharmings, @steven-grants-world, @bloodredwolfsbane, @minigirl87, @ahookedheroespureheart, @ninebluehearts, @outmodead, @sleepyamaya, @pimosworld, @ababynova, @flordelalunas, @360iris, @momo-mochiball, @missdragon-1, @lunar-ghoulie, @liquorlaughslove, @kiwibaekie, @wordacadabra, @deezisnotreal, @onzayhe, @romanarose, @mt2sssss, @justmaragudytha, @strawb3rry-gal, @ravenz-hope, @thewinterv, @winwin70, @cookielovesbook-akie, @plastichearts @dumbbitchenergy, @moonknightly, @cloudroomblog

[ahundredtimesover]

Belong (03) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Chapter (Series) Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, mention of sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (straddling, kissing, oral, penetrative sex) (18+)

Chapter Word count: 17.7k

Series Masterlist

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Listen to: Incomplete by James Bay; Love Like This by Kodaline; Lose Ourselves by Boundary Run; Driving Hours by Axel Flovent || Playlist 🎶

Present day 

Taehyung, sitting in front of you at the Japanese restaurant for his treat, scans the menu then glances up at you and Yoongi going through your orders. He listens as you try to decide between 2 dishes, with the man next to you choosing the one you don’t get.

“What are you getting?” You ask your best friend.

“Hmm,” he sets the menu down. “I’m getting a ‘what the fuck is happening,’ please.”

You blink widely at him as the words process. “What?”

With crossed arms, Taehyung arches his brow.

“Arriving at the restaurant together? Sitting so close to each other? Sharing food?” His eyes focus on you, with a tinge of judgment that you’ve rarely ever seen on him. “Smiling like you’re that 20-year old woman in love? Are you two back together?”

You don’t know if you’ve just forgotten how observant Taehyung is, or if you and Yoongi are back in that bubble you used to have that makes you unaware of how couple-y you both are. You turn to the man next to you who gives you an assured look. 

“Your call,” Yoongi says.

“Your call?” Taehyung repeats, gasping. “That’s basically an admission!”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic!” You roll your eyes. “It’s not the worst news you’ve ever received.”

“So it’s true?” He badgers. “You’re back together? Since when? How?”

“Last night. I returned his jackets, hung out at his place, got to talking, kissed… Do you want details?” You challenge him.

“No!” Taehyung scowls. 

“Then why are you asking so many questions!” You exclaim. “And why are you being judgy?”

“I’m not!” He defends. “It’s just… it’s been a full day since you got back together and you didn’t think to tell me? Your best friend in the entire world?”

“Well, we were busy,” you shrug.

“I didn’t need to know that,” he frowns.

“You were asking.”

“Just to clarify,” Yoongi butts in. “She woke up early in the morning and planned to leave after we, uh, you know. We only talked about our situation then. So technically, it hasn’t been a day.”

“What?” Taehyung exclaims, turning to you. “You planned to dip and skip your ex?!”

“Can you lower your voice?!” You kick his shin. “And no, I wasn’t gonna leave,” you say to Yoongi now. “I mean, I did stop because I wanted to stay. But that’s besides the point.”

“And the point is what?” Taehyung asks.

“That Yoongi and I weren’t actually good with the ‘moving on from each other’ thing. We still feel something towards each other and we decided to just see where things go from here.”

“So just like that summer… but older. Hmm,” Taehyung hums, his eyes moving from you to your right, as if he’s deciding whether to be happy for you or to berate you. 

“Just like that summer,” you repeat, “but more mature, with a past we can learn from. And… happier,” you admit, as you look at Yoongi and once again feel the overwhelming emotion of love and joy. “I’m really happy, Tae. The last time I truly, and I mean truly, felt that… was here.”

You feel Yoongi tighten his hold on your hand underneath the table, as if some confirmation that it’s the same with him. 

Taehyung gives in. His whole face that was tense just seconds ago now softens, as he looks at you and recalls how this carefree and genuine smile of yours was a staple everyday during that summer. It’s been tough since you arrived here, but seeing how you’re glowing right now reminds him that only one Min Yoongi can ever make you look this happy. That’s at least one thing that Taehyung won’t ever deny nor take away from you. 

“I know,” your best friend replies. “I can see that.” 

Turning to Yoongi, he asks the older man if he has anything to say.

“I’m happy, too.”

It’s not something Yoongi just says to anyone who isn’t you, so saying this now to assure your protective best friend means a lot. 

“So can you not be judgy now?” You chuckle, easing the tension.

Taehyung insists that he wasn’t but teases that you and Yoongi were being so obvious. 

You also insist that you were trying to be subtle, but you can’t really defend your giddy smile, which has much to do with the feel of Yoongi’s fingers intertwined with yours. It’s something you’re getting used to again, much like with everything - his gruff morning voice, the scent of his clothes that you wore all day, wrapping yourself around him, and his kisses. There’s more you’ve missed that you know you’ll have again and you can’t wait for those, too. You’ve got a month left here, after all, but if things would continue to go this way, maybe even more. 

Dinner eventually goes by smoothly, with Taehyung no longer being hostile to you or Yoongi but actually being candid, saying that he missed third wheeling with you both, and then flustering him for fun. 

Your best friend is a brat most of the time and he wants to put Yoongi on the spot. He asks Yoongi questions like his favorite body part of yours - your eyes even if he can’t look straight at them; his favorite date - the first time he took you to dinner with a bouquet of marigolds and you spent the night playing arcades; and his favorite mannerism of yours - any time you pout because it’s cute. 

Taehyung insists it’s so Yoongi could be prepared for when you go public with your relationship and he gets asked about you. But deep down you know your best friend is doing it for you; there’s this comfort in knowing that those 2 years still stay with Yoongi, and his quick answers tell you that many things are still fresh in his mind. 

“Favorite outfit?” Taehyung asks. “PG answers only.”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing is not PG,” Taehyung warns.

“I meant, nothing in general,” Yoongi clarifies. “I like everything because everything suits her. But if I’d have to choose, then anything yellow. It’s her favorite color and she looks happiest in it.”

“Hmm, okay. Moment when you knew you really liked her?” Taehyung continues.

“That day I brought her to the shop for the first time,” Yoongi recalls. “I never told her but my dad had been feeling down then; I knew he was missing my mom. But ___ went there with me and spoke to him while he was taking inventory and made him smile and laugh and I don’t know, seeing that just solidified what I felt.”

Taehyung’s face softens; he remembers you talking about that day and he sees you now, the memory hitting you hard as you try to contain your smile.

“And the moment you knew you loved her?”

“The first time we hung out at my place… the morning after,” Yoongi says, as he looks down on his lap and fumbles with his hands, something he does when he’s nervous. “She was walking around my studio with my shirt on and she just… looked like she belonged there, with me, in our own small world. It was just us and nothing else mattered.”

Neither you nor Taehyung says anything. You just gaze at Yoongi and the way he keeps himself distracted with his own fingers, and then you blink the tears away. 

You take his hand in yours. “So, I think he’s ready for his hypothetical interview,” you chuckle.

Later that night, as you lie on your bed next to Yoongi who, just like you can’t seem to fall asleep, you say out loud the thoughts you’ve had since dinner.

“The moment you knew you loved me,” you start, “that… that morning was when we said we liked each other. You already loved me then?”

“The thought was there,” he answers, his eyes rooted on the ceiling. “But I kept going back to that moment even the mornings after.”

“Why?”

“You know how the first time you were on stage, that’s when you said you fell in love with acting?” He asks, earning him a hum of agreement from you.  “It’s the same with me and the first time I played basketball. I fell in love with the sport that moment; I couldn’t see myself playing anything else and I knew that I wasn’t going to love any other sport after. I go back to that moment constantly, just like that first morning with you.”

Yoongi turns, his eyes holding yours. “That day was so simple. We stayed in, watched random videos, cooked whatever, but I could just… see us doing that for a long time, you know? I didn’t want to do that with anyone else, and somehow I just knew that I would never feel what I felt for another person again. I think about that day and what I felt and I think it was love.”

You kiss him and hum against his lips. “I think that was love, too. I think it still is.”

“Hello, stranger,” Hoseok’s playful tone greets you as you pick up the phone. “I feel a little hurt that your break included a break from me. Have I become that manager who doesn’t shut up about work and that’s why you don’t call?”

“Oh, stop it,” you chuckle. “But that’s also your job, though - to talk to me about work to remind me that I actually still have a job and I need to earn.”

“That’s true. You’ve got appearances and photo shoots waiting for you when you get back here in 3 weeks.”

Right. Three weeks, you think to yourself. Not long ago, you couldn’t wait for all this to be over so you could go back to Seoul, but with how things have been with Yoongi, you just want time to stop so you could spend more days with him the way you have. 

It’s been a few days since you’ve gotten back together and you haven’t really spent a day apart since then. You still see your father and grandparents and have meals with them, but days begin and end with Yoongi - your mouths on each other, your hands all over his body, his lips all over yours. It’s been pleasurable for sure, but beyond the cuddles and the sex, it’s the conversations and the silence that have been so affirming. You like starting and ending your days with those, too. 

“___, you still there?” Hoseok asks. 

“Yeah, I’m just fixing up,” you say, looking for another one of your hair ties that you misplaced. You decide to just ask Yoongi for his because he definitely has an extra one. “Anyway, you called, so are you doing the friend thing by checking up on me? Or are you doing the manager thing and calling to tell me that I’ve got a project or something?”

“Both,” he laughs. “Well, there’s a request for you and Jin to be on a variety show and he said you’ve both dreamed of going on one so I assume that’s a yes. And there’s a pitch for skincare endorsement, too.”

“Okay to both,” you say excitedly, as you walk down the stairs. “I’m guessing filming for the show will start when I get back? And send me the details for the endorsement tonight, I’ll go check it,” you add.

You walk into your kitchen where Yoongi’s cooking, and you gasp in excitement as you see the kimchi fried rice he’s making. You hug him from the back, surprising him, but he doesn’t push you away.

“Smells good,” you hum, forgetting the call you’re currently in, only remembering when Hoseok asks what it is that you’re referring to.

“Uh, the food,” you reply.

“That you cooked or…?”

“Uh,” you trail, Yoongi looking at you curiously now, but you know you can’t lie to your manager, even if it's by omission. So you tell him the truth. 

“That Yoongi cooked,” you admit.

“Excuse me, what?” Hoseok says, and you don’t miss the surprise in his voice. “Yoongi is with you? As in, in your house? Why? Are you back together?”

“Uh,” you stutter, choosing to take the conversation outside and then sitting on the couch that faces inside so you could see if Yoongi’s finished. “Yes, we are.”

“Since when?”

“The other day.”

There’s silence before Hoseok speaks again. “___, I told you to be careful.”

“I’ve been!” You insist. “I mean, we don’t go out much and there haven’t been any photos of us, at least that I’ve seen. You don’t have to worry; we’re being careful. And even then, he’s literally the most non-news worthy person I’ve ever dated. There’s no fire you’ll need to put out because there’s no dirt on him.”

“He’s your ex-boyfriend, that’s one. And as your manager, I’m still supposed to remind you that he might not want the attention,” Hoseok sighs. 

“I’m not that big of a celebrity, Hoseok,” you reason. “I doubt people would mind.”

“They could.”

“Then he and I will talk about it when we have to.”

“But about what I said, I didn’t mean that as your manager. I meant that as your friend,” he says. “___, he broke your heart. Who’s to say he won’t do it again?”

“And who’s to say that he will?”

“So is he gonna quit his coaching job and move to Seoul?”

“We… we haven’t talked about it.”

“Do you plan to?”

“Yes, of course!” You groan. “We’ve just been enjoying the time together after so long. There’s so much to catch up on and we just… we just want to savor this for now before I have to go back there.”

“So you’re just gonna live in your own bubble for the next 3 weeks and then decide to talk about it when you feel like it. Is that it? And then what if he doesn’t go with you like last time? What if he lets you go again like last time?”

“You’re being harsh,” you mumble, not feeling like you need this right now. 

“I’m not being harsh, ___. I’m being practical,” Hoseok sighs. “You knew you were gonna see him, and I knew, just like everyone else did, that you weren’t over him. And now you’re in that same position as you were 6 years ago, but this time, you’ve built a career; you’ve got a lot to lose to now. And whether he lets you go again or you choose to stay, you lose. You shouldn’t even be in this position.”

“You don’t get to speak about how I feel,” you respond, feeling a little too bare and vulnerable right now. “Neither should you speak about how I’m supposed to handle my personal relationships, Hoseok. Speak about it professionally and don’t act like you know what I had to go through and what I’m feeling right now.”

“You’re right, I don’t know what you had to go through,” he admits. “But I know that you cried so many nights because of him. I used to take out your trash, remember? Before you had Jimin? I never meant to see it but you threw a ripped photo of you and Yoongi before. You’d skip events at Daegu, date guys you didn’t even like… I— I’m your manager but I’m also your friend, ___. I pick up on your cues, how you avoid questions about your first love, how you say that there was never anything for you back home when I knew you used to head out there every weekend.”

The words feel like a punch to the gut. You know Hoseok; he’d never intend to say them to hurt you. He’d always kept himself out of your personal relationships, including the men you dated just because you were lonely even if he was right - you never really liked them.

But it feels too soon, you think. You don’t want to think of all this right now, of what it would mean for you and Yoongi after the 3 weeks you have left. You don’t know if he’s thought about it; knowing him, he probably has. But maybe you also don’t know; maybe he hasn’t thought about it because like you, maybe he just wants to live in this bubble first… before you lose it all over again.

“___, I’m sorry,” he finally says, after you’ve spent the past minute or so silent. “You’re an adult. The agency doesn’t restrict you or anything. I’m not here to police you either. I just… I don’t want you to get hurt again. And I don’t want anything to hold you back in your career, especially given the momentum you have.”

“I know,” you mumble. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s your break, a well-deserved one. I didn’t mean to ruin it.”

“You didn’t. It’s all good,” you say, and you mean it, too. He’s just reminded you of the things you’ve been trying not to think about. 

You glance at Yoongi at the same time that he signals that the food is ready. You smile at him and tell Hoseok that you have to go. He apologizes again and tells you he’ll call back about work details. 

Entering the house, the scent of the food immediately makes you salivate. You also spot another dish that you didn’t see earlier. 

“Did you steam the dumplings?” You ask excitedly. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi chuckles. “You got so many packs of it. I figured you’d want some.”

“Always,” you smile, sitting down next to him and placing your legs on his lap, as you usually do. You cling to him like a koala; you always said it’s how you squeeze in as much time to cuddle with him as possible. “I’m so glad we bought so many things at the supermarket the other day.”

“Because we got all the things you usually crave for,” he playfully shakes his head. “We have to buy milk soon, though. You put it in everything.”

“Get used to it again,” you stick your tongue out, earning you another laugh. 

You eat as if you didn’t just have that conversation with your manager and you’re thankful that Yoongi doesn’t bring it up… until he eventually does, when you both sit on the couch later that evening, watching a Pegasus game on TV with your legs on his lap again. 

“So… your friends don’t seem to like me, huh?” 

His dry laugh tells you he’s trying not to be affected. 

“My friends? Who?”

“Well, Taehyung seemed hostile the other day. And you looked pretty down while talking to your manager earlier. I’m thinking maybe he doesn’t like me. Do Jin and Jimin know yet? I bet they’d be disappointed, too. Does—-”

“Yah,” you groan, knowing he tends to ramble when he’s nervous. “Why are you thinking that way? They don’t not like you, okay?”

“I wouldn’t like me if I was your friend.”

“Too bad you’re my boyfriend, then. You can’t dislike yourself.”

“I still could,” he says, unable to hide his smile at how you referred to him as. 

“Well then, I don’t. And that’s what matters,” you declare, climbing to sit on his lap now.

“You really like straddling, don’t you,” he chuckles.

“Only so you could look at me,” you state, “and so I could hug you and you could hug me like this.” You wrap his arms around your waist to his amusement. “And so I can properly tell you that my friends are fine; they’re not out to get you. They’re just… protective, that’s all.”

His eyes soften and you relax your position in his hold.

“I cried to Jin once and told him I didn’t wanna speak of it ever again. Hoseok saw our ripped photo in my trash. Jimin’s never met you but I apparently say a lot of things when I’m drunk. And Tae, well, he took it the hardest. But he also saw me at my happiest with you,” you reveal. “It was hard, but only because it meant so much. I won’t deny any of that. But we’re okay now.  We made decisions that hurt each other but we also can’t seem to just let each other go. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

“It does,” Yoongi nods, thinking that this would do for now. 

There are so many thoughts swimming in his head and hiding underneath. They continue to plague his mind even after he goes to bed that evening, with your body wrapped all over his after he made you come thrice. They stay there even after a shallow slumber, as he wakes the next morning feeling restless. 

He never imagined he’d ever get back together with you. Sure, he’d thought about it many times before; even planned on seeing you one time to catch up and maybe see if things had changed but he’d chickened out seeing that they did, drove back to Daegu, and then convinced himself that it was the right thing to do. 

But you were everywhere for him - in his rare smiles and laughters, in the crevices of his broken heart that he caused, in his dreams where you would probably remain. Being with you again gives him a sense of direction after he lost it all those years ago when his dream slipped away. 

That version of him didn’t think he could love you right, and though he’s grown so much since then, he feels that the remnants of that boy are still there, and he’s scared that he’ll drive you away again, ironically because you - your dreams, your hard work, your happiness - always come first. 

Yoongi always preferred being alone; he didn’t like fitting himself where he doesn’t have a place to be, or if he thinks his presence would cause more harm than good. Dating a celebrity is tricky, and he’s allowed himself to live in this fantasy world within the 4 walls of your rental house where nothing could harm the both of you, including him.

Turning to his side, he gazes at your sleeping form. You’ve shifted since last night, and now you’re comfortably lying on your side facing him, soft snores escaping you. 

He doesn’t fight the desire to feel you, so he cups your cheek with his hand and caresses it, just like you said you always liked. It’s his gentleness, you said, and he never really understood it but he does it because you like it, just like he does many things when it comes to you.

You hum as you feel his warmth, a small smile creeping in your face, causing him to smile as well. 

“G’morning,” you hum, turning your head so you could kiss his hand. “You’re up early.”

“Couldn’t really sleep,” he says, his hand trailing down slowly. “I think I’ve been sleeping too much.”

You giggle with your eyes still closed. “We can go somewhere if you want,” you say, taking in a breath when his fingers graze your pert nipple. “Or just stay in.”

Your chest heaves and Yoongi takes it as a sign, so he cups your breast, his thumb tracing patterns on your bud. You moan in response, and the sound itself causes his own dick to harden, even more when he feels your thighs clench underneath the covers. 

“Baby,” you pant.

He knows the tone of that voice; he heard it last night when your goodnight kiss turned into a make out session and then he slid down to make out with your cunt, too. 

So he takes the bait and slides his hand there again, parting your legs open to gain entrance. You comply right away, moaning even louder this time once his fingers breach your lips and proceed to gently rub your clit that’s already throbbing in anticipation. Comfortably propped up with his arm, he gazes at your closed eyes and parted mouth, his own pleasure increasing from watching yours build up. 

Your body glides against his hand’s movement, your back arching now as you start to crave for more. “Baby, please,” you mumble.

“What do you want?” 

“You,” you moan. 

He smirks and gets on his knees. He retrieves his hand from between your thighs and uses your essence to lubricate his own aching cock, earning him a cuss from you. Lifting your leg over his shoulder, he enters you slowly, until he’s following a pace that has you keening, especially as he kisses your ankle then down your calf, softly and gently even as he starts to go harder.

Watching him from below is hypnotizing, with his taut and smooth chest glowing against the sun. It’s the way his long hair frames his face, how his free hands comb over it, how he bites his lips, and how his head is thrown back, exposing his pretty neck. 

You watch his slender fingers caress your leg. You watch his digits, still coated with your essence, play with your clit again. You imagined how inviting they might’ve looked earlier as he pleasured you, and you get to see them now. Those rough, hard working hands touch you so gently, hold you so fiercely, and they satisfy you to no end. 

Your back arches as you feel the tightness become too much. You come and he follows right after, with moans coming from him and curses coming from you. The way he sounds, despite the absence of his words, makes you feel like you could come all over again.

He kisses your leg another time before putting it down, a shy yet satisfied smile gracing his face.

“Can you kiss me now?” You ask.

He hovers over you and gives you a peck on the lips.

“More,” you demand, kissing him all over his face.

“Jagi, let me brush my teeth first.”

“I don’t care,” you pout.

“I do,” he chuckles, tickling you so he could escape from your hold. 

He puts on his boxers and then scurries to the bathroom where you follow him. You brush your teeth next to each other and once you both finish, you immediately wrap your arms around his neck and pull him for a kiss, one that eventually turns into a make out session like it often does. 

“Jagi,” he laughs, as you now move to his neck as you pepper him with kisses. “You have your niece’s party. You have to fix up.”

“Right,” you say, finally letting him go. “Are you telling your dad about us today?”

“Yeah. I’m spending the day with him and he’ll definitely ask questions.”

“What do you think he’ll say?”

“He’ll probably tell me not to screw it up again,” Yoongi laughs dryly. 

“Did he say something like that before?” You wonder.

“Just years later. He said when I broke it off, I was in a pretty bad place; he didn’t want to add to that and he just supported me with what I needed to get better,” Yoongi recalls. “We’ve gotten closer the past years and he’d bring you up usually when you have a show or movie going on. But he’s never direct about the breakup. I guess it hit too close for him; I did what he couldn’t do.”

“Well if anything, I’m sure telling him would be a less awkward conversation than when I tell my father,” you say, having decided that if you want to repair the relationship, being honest to your old man about your boyfriend is a good first step. “I’ll just maybe hold off on introductions so letting him know should be enough.”

“Good luck to us, I guess?” Yoongi offers.

“I guess so,” you reply, hugging him for the encouragement and comfort you need. “I already can’t wait to be with you tonight.”

As it turns out, Mr. Min was more silent than expected. Yoongi told you that his old man was more emotional, hugging him and saying he’s glad his son’s happy again, that he found the piece that was missing. Yoongi didn’t get that last bit, but you do; you remember that first conversation with his dad when you first visited the shop some weeks ago.

Your father was the talkative one. He asked about how you and Yoongi met, what happened along the way - which you narrated in a rather simplistic manner, given that you knew it’d hit too close to him, too; you did what your mom did, after all - and when he’ll get to meet him.

“Sometime,” you’d said and your father merely smiled and didn’t press further.

That was a few days ago. Since then, you’d gone to the Opera House with Yoongi, played basketball in his favorite playground court, and planned to hike a mountain, until you saw how far you’d have to walk so you both decided to stay at the foot of it and just go for a food trip around the small town. 

While Yoongi’s working at the shop today, you’re at Taehyung’s house, seated on his couch while he lays his head on your lap. You’re both watching a classic movie and reciting the lines word for word, getting sucked into the emotions of the scene. 

Your best friend sits up right after the credits start to roll. “So, how’s it like dating your ex-boyfriend?” He asks. 

“Good,” you smile, recalling how it’s been since you both got back together.. “All the things that I loved about him are still there. He’s still wise and gentle and thoughtful. But he’s so grown up now, like when he talks about coaching the team and improving the sports department of the school. He sounds so mature when he talks about his dad’s business and how he’s helping in growing it, perhaps running the shop in the future when Mr. Min is unable to. But he still teases sometimes, he’s still a little cocky flirt and an unbothered man when he wants to be.”

“You seem really happy,” Taehyung looks at you softly. “It’s different, the way you look. You’ve never talked about anyone like this.”

“I don’t know where I got this capacity to feel for someone so much,” you admit. “It’s… it’s overwhelming sometimes, you know? Like when I watch him preparing our meals or when he’s on his laptop for work or when he’s just seated next to me. I just feel so happy that I’m part of his world, that I get to experience this - being with him. It’s kind of scary sometimes.”

“In what way?” Taehyung asks worriedly.

“In the way that I know that the universe screws with us sometimes and takes things away,” you say. “In the way that I find myself imagining - for the first time - what living here would be like and what job I’ll have and where he and I will live. It’s scary because of the way we got together was so familiar, and what if the heartbreak is the same, too?”

“Do you think about that? Of him, pushing you away again?”

“I can’t help it,” you sigh. “It’s moments when I’m not with him that I end up thinking this way. It’s like I’m overwhelmed with joy when I’m with him but I get so anxious when I’m not. Because what if one day, our circumstances pull us apart again? Then what? What if even with how happy I make him, he wants to stay here? And even with how happy he makes me, what if I still want to leave?”

“___, your life is in Seoul,” Taehyung reminds you.

“My career is there; there’s a difference.”

“Is there really? In the industry where we work?” He challenges. “You can’t be all that you want to be and stay here. I thought you always knew that.”

“I did. I guess, finding my happiness again just gave me ideas,” you say. “Staying here to be with him back then wasn’t an option - I had a career to start and well, he also didn’t want me. But now, I’ve got a few years under my belt. I could do something with it here, you know? Maybe run workshops? Set up my own theater company? Get into broadcasting?”

“Why are they all premised on you staying here, though? What about Yoongi being the one to leave to stay with you? Why do you get to be the one to give up your dream?” 

“Because it’s easier to make it here than it is in Seoul. And well, I guess it’s a better scenario to think about rather than him not wanting to leave his life here to live it with me there.”

You don’t even notice the tears forming until one slides down your cheek, which you eventually wipe away. It’s the thought you’ve been keeping in, unwilling to acknowledge it for fear of it coming true. You’re scared that with all the things about Yoongi that haven’t changed, his choice to prioritize your dream over your relationship is one of them, so you go ahead and think of giving it up for him instead. 

“Hey,” Taehyung says, hugging you for comfort. “Have you told him any of this?”

“No. I don’t like talking about those things when we’re together. I just want us to—”

“Stay in your own bubble of love before it breaks?”

You sigh in frustration. “I sound really stupid, don’t I?”

“You sound like any person who’s been hurt by someone they loved so much, and those fears are valid,” Taehyung assures you. “But even if I want to say that you should follow your heart and be with the man you love regardless of what you have to give up, I can’t. Because I saw how hard you worked to be where you are. I know what this means to you. You love acting more than anything and you always have.”

“But I also know that Yoongi loves basketball, and he’d do anything close to what he couldn’t have,” you point out. “Coaching his college team fills that hole that his  old broken dream left.”

“Then where does that leave both of you?” Taehyung asks. “Who gives up what? The last time this happened, you gave each other up. Was it worth it? Would it be worth it this time?”

“I don’t wanna think about it,” you pout. “I don’t want either of us giving the other up.”

“Well then you’ve got to find a way to live out your dreams while still being together,” Taehyung advises. “And something that’s sustainable, something that doesn’t tire you both out, that doesn’t break you into pieces when being together is meant to keep you whole.”

“I know. I’m just taking it one day at a time,” you huff, exhausted from just thinking about all this and silently crying. “I’m working out schedules in my mind, figuring out arrangements, what I can do here, what he can do there… but they’re all still scary because they’re unknown. Choosing to just be happy with how we are now seems easy.”

“It is. But what happens when it gets hard?”

“I guess he and I just have to… figure out how not to hurt each other unlike the last time,” you sigh, knowing that saying it is much easier than doing it. 

Yoongi never promised he wouldn’t hurt you; he isn’t the type to make those, knowing that his actions always say more than his words ever could. But you knew he wouldn’t, that he’d never intend it. Yet losing him was the most painful thing you had to endure. 

“You know it’s not that simple, though,” Taehyung says, pulling you close to him for the hug he knows you need. 

“I know that, too,” you reply, leaning on his shoulder now. “You’d think that after what I went through, I’d be so scared to be with him again because I lost him once and I don’t know how I’d deal with losing him again but I’m so stubborn, I can’t help myself.”

“You find home in a man in the place that stopped feeling that way and then you don’t want to leave,” Taehyung hums. “That’s natural. That’s human. But you don’t belong here, ___. You belong out there. You belong where you’re wanted.”

The bell over the door of the shop rings, and in you come in a yellow linen ensemble that Yoongi especially likes. His smile is immediate and it grows wider when you walk behind the counter where he is and kiss him.

“Missed you this morning,” you pout, taking his hand even if he still isn’t a hand-holder, but he lets you do it because it’s something you like to do.

“Yeah, me, too. I just needed to get here early to help my dad with some orders,” Yoongi says. “A couple wanted cutting boards for their entourage and it’s too much for him to work on his own. It tired him out actually. He left at lunchtime to rest.”

“Is he okay? You said he’s been getting more tired than usual.”

“I think it’s running this place that exhausts him,” he sighs. “I’ve been telling him to involve my cousins since he wants to keep the business within the family but he’s so stubborn; he doesn’t think they’ll appreciate it as much because they didn’t grow up in the shop. And then when I help, he says I help too much.”

“Maybe you’re too blunt when you tell him,” you chuckle. 

“How else am I supposed to tell him?” Yoongi arches his brow. “We don’t sugarcoat things around here.”

“Well then maybe your words need a little more love and care,” you smile. “Convince him that way; maybe he’ll give in.”

“Fine. When I figure out how to do that, then I will,” he laughs. “Anyway, why are you here? I thought you were doing errands.”

“I was. But then Hoseok asked to call and then we ended up talking for 2 hours and I needed a break,” you answer. “My dry clean can wait.”

“Was it bad?”

“No, not at all,” you smile. “The call was just too long but I also wanted to see you right away. I’m staying here for another week.”

“Really? How’d that happen?” He asks, feeling all sorts of warmth, knowing he’d be with you for a few more days. 

“Jin asked to move our filming so I asked to move my photo shoot,” you smile proudly. “And I arranged my schedule with Hoseok already. I’ve got days in the week I could drive out here and stay with you. Some weeks will be busier than others, though.”

Yoongi’s heart sinks. Of course this is something you’ve thought about. You went ahead and thought he wouldn’t be driving out to see you, too. 

“I can drive out to you, you know? You’re the one with the busy schedule,” he says.

“So are you. Baby, you’re training college kids. And you’re helping your dad out here. I already know you won’t be taking a rest.”

“And you’re the celebrity with so many events and filming and photoshoots to go to,” he counters. “You won’t be taking a rest.”

“Well then how do you expect us to see each other if we don't plan to?”

His silence prompts you to continue. “You haven’t thought about it yet, have you?”

“Of course I have. Even if all I want is to savor our time together, the thought of us being apart again bugs me everyday. It… it got hard the first time. It took a lot from us.”

“Because we were different people back then,” you explain. “I was just starting out with barely any projects and you were recovering. But now, we’re more capable, more confident. I can’t be the only one thinking this is gonna work out this time. Please tell me I’m wrong.”

The worry in your face starts to worry Yoongi, too. But he wants to be the strong one this time, even if everything scares him right now. 

“You are wrong, because we’re gonna be fine,” he assures you, hand on your cheek to calm you down. “We’ll make time and we’ll find something that’s more permanent, okay? We have just a bit more time left. Do you think we can just focus on that first?”

It’s both comforting and worrying to know that somehow, you and Yoongi are on the same page for now, choosing to just focus on your time left together rather than dwelling on what comes after. Sure, thinking how you could sustain the relationship is important, but so is just living in this moment with him without worrying about anything else. 

That’s how the second year of your relationship went, after all. Even with the arrangement you both made of alternating visits after that first summer, you didn’t account for the tragedy he’d suffer through after the next. That’s what made it hard. Some things in life you just can’t predict, some dreams that come true and end that change everything; sometimes it’s what makes the relationship work, sometimes it’s what ends it. 

“We can,” you smile, shifting to kiss his hand that’s still cupping your cheek. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

For the next several days, you and Yoongi spend as much time together as possible. You stay in and watch movies - including yours, have meals out with his dad, go out for drinks with Taehyung, and drive out to places you’ve never been to. 

You join him at the shop when he does some woodwork, something you don’t expect would turn you on so much with how sexy he looks being so focused, his fingers hypnotizing you as they glide through the wood. He stays with you during your video call meetings with Hoseok about several possible projects, noting the ones you really want and the ones that just won’t work out. 

It’s waking up and falling asleep next to him that you love the most, though, and he seems to feel the same way. He pulls you close at night and kisses your forehead; you’re the one who dives into his lips until it escalates to him eating you out or pounding you from behind. But he always finishes with his head on your neck, taking you in, saying he loves you with barely any words. In the mornings, you wake him up with kisses, his pleas for you to stop having no bite at all. The softness of his smiles tells you he secretly loves it, and it’s what stays with you as you go about the rest of your day. 

Before you know it, it’s 2 days before you’re scheduled to drive back. You indulge your father’s request for lunch the day before you leave, and Mr. Min prepares dinner for you that evening. You don’t miss the joy in his eyes as he tells you repeatedly how happy he is that his son is happier now as well. 

That night, you and Yoongi make love gently. With him taking you on the couch and then on your bed, you feel everything he doesn’t say. He holds your gaze as you come for him, and then he kisses you amorously when you ride out your high. 

On your last day, you meet with Taehyung and his parents for breakfast before spending the rest of the day with Yoongi. You stay at home, just lounging about in nothing but his oversized shirt and your underwear. 

“Okay,” you say, as the sun has set and you start to get hungry. “I found this super easy recipe for some garlic pasta that I’m gonna make for us, and then I’m gonna grill some steak that you’re gonna watch over because I don’t know how to tell if it’s cooked.”

Yoongi laughs but he agrees. “Sounds like a plan.”

You walk around the kitchen to get the ingredients and prepare the pot for the noodles and pans for everything else. You get the cutting board and start chopping the garlic as slow as you possibly can.

Leaning on the counter and watching you in amusement, Yoongi chuckles. “Jagi, let me do it. You might hurt yourself. Or overcook the pasta because you’re taking too long. Whichever happens first.”

“Hey, be nice,” you glare at him. 

He just softly smiles as you go about your task, with your eyebrows furrowed as you focus on mincing the garlic. You ask him to season the steak and he teases you that all you’ll be doing now is putting the meat on the pan and claiming that you cooked it. 

“Ha, ha, you’re funny,” you pout. “I’m trying, okay? This is why Tae and I had to survive on instant meals because we couldn’t cook our own.”

“Yeah, now both of you could just hire people to cook for you.”

“Or date people who can,” you wink. “I missed your makchang and your meat dishes a lot. No one in Seoul could make them like you.”

“I also only make them for you.”

“What a sweetheart,” you giggle. 

You finally finish with the garlic and then cook it in the melted butter on the pan. Once ready, you mix in the noodles with some parmesan cheese and parsley. 

At that moment, Yoongi couldn't help himself. He walks over to you and hugs you from behind, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and his face resting on your neck as he watches you continue mixing. He feels your breath hitch at the act; this is something you usually do, after all, and he’s more subtle when he initiates physical contact. He’s never actually done this before, but it just felt right. Seeing you in his clothes, in this place that’s become so familiar, does something to him, especially as you try your best to feed him this time around.

“Hmm, couldn’t help yourself with my cuteness, huh?” You giggle, and he hums his yes.

“You think I could do this everyday?”

“Only if the recipe isn’t more than 5 steps.”

“Hey!” You elbow him, laughing along as he says he’s just teasing. 

You let him taste and then add more salt when he says so. You put it aside so you can cook the steak now, and all you really do is put it on the pan and do what Yoongi tells you to do.

“Can you imagine it?” You wonder out loud as you sear the meat. “You and me in our own place, doing this?”

“It’s a nice thought,” he downplays. He thinks about it more than he cares to admit. 

“It is. That’s why, uh, I’ve been looking around for houses around here for long-term lease,” you finally tell him. “This place is available. It would be a good place to stay for when I visit every week.”

“Is that all you think about?”

“Hmm, I think of what I can do here, too,” you confess, finally expressing the things that have been swirling in your mind. 

“Why?” 

“I mean, Seoul would be great but if I can’t have you there, Daegu isn’t so bad,” you say, your voice dropping a little. “I could teach drama at your university or run my own classes.”

“But this isn’t your home, though,” he says, his eyes now losing its softness and are now focused on the meat he’s cooking. 

“What’s home but the place where you are?” You counter. “I’ll be wherever you are. I… I know that’s what I want.”

“Jagi, that’s a loaded thing to say. This place is too small for you, always has been.”

You don’t respond, only because you agree. It was too small for your mom and it was for you, too. But sometimes, dreams and priorities change. Sometimes, people find something they lost a long time ago and  don’t want to lose it again. Sometimes they find themselves in a place they never expected, and find a home they thought was only warm enough for one. 

“It’s just a thought,” you hum. “It would be nice though, wouldn’t it? To… do this everyday?”

Yoongi doesn’t think it’s a test, but when he manages to say that it is - it’s become one of his gentle dreams, actually, something he feels a little too greedy to have - there's a tinge of uncertainty on your face that mirrors his, and he wishes on your last night, he doesn’t disappoint you. 

But you seem to shrug it off and he tries to do the same. He finishes off the meat and then slices them for you. You plate the noodles and take them to the dining table. Both of you devour your dinner, with your legs over his lap and frequent kisses on his hand while he eats, and enjoy some wine right after.

Later that night after you’ve both washed up, you exit the bathroom and proceed to look through his pile of clothes in your closet. 

“Jagi, no need for that,” he mumbles, prompting you to return one of his white shirts that you were about to wear. 

You turn to him in anticipation, as he removes his own shirt and walks over to you in just his boxers. Cupping your cheeks, he kisses you deeply. 

“It’s our last night together,” he whispers. “I just want to—”

Your hand on his cock disrupts him, and while he doesn’t say anything more, he does continue to kiss you and fondle your breasts. 

He makes you come into his mouth first, and then lets you suck him off until he’s painfully hard that he shoves himself into you once he lays you on your back. You moan obscenely, as he chooses to go hard this time. 

He doesn’t want you to think of whatever uncertainty you may have picked up from him earlier; he doesn’t want you to think of tomorrow or the day after that. Tonight, he just wants you to focus on how he makes you feel; he wants to let you know how good you make him feel. He wants to rid your mind of worries for now about your future together. He just wants your sounds, your curses of his name, your chest heaving, your toes curling, and your screams of wanting more.

And that’s what he gets. You groan when he thrusts deeply into you as you grip the sheets and the pillow you’re lying on. Your whole body shakes when you’re all-fours on the bed, feeling him enter you from behind, shivering with his kisses on your back as he pushes into you. 

You’re spent by the time you both finish, and Yoongi takes his time to wipe off the sweat from your forehead and your mixed slick from your body. You curl into him once he returns to the bed, and all he could do is hold you tight and hope that in the morning, this is all that you’ll remember. 

You gaze at the man sleeping next to you, peaceful, with no care in the world. For someone who says he isn’t all that affectionate, he sure likes to hold you when you sleep at night, as his one arm secures you in his grip. You delay the morning kisses, wanting to savor this first. It won’t be until a few days later when you get to be blessed with this scene again, and you want to hang onto it for as long as you can.

Eventually, you give in, peppering him with kisses until he just pulls you on top of him and cradles your head to stop you. You both end up giggling though, and Yoongi, who usually doesn’t like morning breath kisses, kisses you. He holds it there for a while and you hum against his lips, not wanting to think that you’ll be without this for a while. 

You both finally get up. It’s a quiet morning with the breakfast he makes. You eat your meal right next to him with your legs on his lap like always. You choose to exchange soft looks and giggles rather than words. You take a quiet shower with him. He helps you fix your things, and when Taehyung arrives, Yoongi loads your luggage. 

He greets your best friend and when you’re both left alone outside the car, you give Yoongi a tight hug.

“I’ll drive out to you next week,” he says as he wipes the lone tear that falls down your cheek. “Is that okay? It’s my last weekend before training starts.”

“Yes,” you sniff. “That would be great.”

He gives you a final kiss before entering his car. In the intersection, Yoongi takes a right while you and Taehyung go straight. He thinks there’s no more painful  way to part and to remind him of your reality - no matter how much love there is, you’ll always be heading in different directions.

Yoongi visits you that first weekend. He spends 3 days with you, one of which is spent with Jungkook and Namjoon who almost cry seeing both of you back together. There are a lot of secrets spilled, like how both men sought you out because they’d also been heartbroken by the breakup; they wanted to know how you were doing and wanted to let you know how Yoongi was doing as well, in hopes that you’ll both never lose contact, that despite the separation, you’d still feel connected somehow. 

That second night, Yoongi massages your feet as you talk about the busy week - meeting with Jin and the variety show producers, guesting at a talk show, and giving an interview. In the balcony of your 20th floor apartment overlooking the Han River, Yoongi sees the world through your eyes - at the top, where you’re meant to be. 

The next week, you take the 3-hour drive to Daegu to see Yoongi for 2 days, since your schedule suddenly became full with guest appearances in various shows and meetings for other potential endorsements. You meet him at the antique shop that he helps manage while working on coaching stuff on his laptop, scribbling plays and watching his players’ scrimmages on film so he can work on their system. You don’t do much but lounge at his apartment during his free day, the silence now replaced with numerous phone calls and emails that you can’t reject. 

You get a driver for the trip on the third week. Thursday and Friday are the only free days you have, which is a luxury, you think, since Yoongi works every single day, coaching the team and helping his dad. You’re at least afforded some days when you don’t have filming or something extra on the side, so you take the chance to go to Yoongi.

It’s 5AM when you tell him you’re coming, and he’s up early for morning training to say he’ll see you for lunch. You’re on his couch by the time he arrives with meat to grill, and you run to him immediately for the hug you’ve been badly needing.

“Everything okay?” He hums against your neck, taking in your scent. 

“Yeah, just miss you,” you sigh into his hold. “I miss you everyday and much more than I thought I would. Like, I’m busy when I’m not with you and that should make me think of you less but no, it just makes me think of wanting to go home to you.”

“I’m sorry, jagi,” he says, kissing your forehead to add to the apology. 

“Nonsense. I’m just a clingy girlfriend, you know that,” you chuckle, playing off the sadness you truly feel at being away from him like this. The daily texts and calls could only do so much. 

Yoongi, though, falters a bit at your admission. You love in all ways - through words, gifts - you’ve been bringing him something that reminds you of him every time - actions, and affection. He loves with this - cooking you meals, hugging you tightly, holding your hand, looking into your eyes when you talk. He loves by making you feel like you’re home; he feels like he does it best when you’re next to each other. And that he could only truly return your love when he’s with you. 

He kisses you in response - slow and deep with his hands cupping your face again.

It alights something in you, as you feel so much with it, especially as he seems to want to keep going. But your body reacts immediately - it’s how it is when Yoongi’s expert tongue works around yours, his soft hums against your mouth and the way he caresses your cheeks making you lost in your own little world. It makes you crave for more, too.

Your hands trail down his chest, sneaking underneath his shirt to feel his skin and then pulling it off him for the whole thing. He hisses when you slide further down, your fingers grazing his semi-hard cock. 

“Hmm, I think I’m gonna have my meal first,” you tease, going on your knees to remove his joggers. 

You smile and lick your lips as your hand strokes his length, long and thick in all the ways you want. The view from below is glorious, his long hair framing his face, closed eyes and parted mouth letting you know of his anticipation. You don’t miss the sight of his heaving chest once you take him in your mouth, and his tempered groans cause shivers in your body once you increase your pace. 

“Jagi,” he moans, the term affecting you differently when he says it in desperation, in a tone that screams of pleasure instead of endearment. 

It just prompts you to go faster, to take him in deeper, and once you notice him tighten his grip on the counter and feel his restrained thrusts against your mouth, you know he’s close. 

You pull away briefly, your hand taking control. “It’s okay, baby. I can take it.”

He follows your lead and grinds against you now, his hips so beautiful in motion as he chases his high. He comes abruptly, taking you both by surprise, but you don’t pull away. You milk his every last drop, his whispered curses turning you on even more. 

You stand up and cheekily smile, and he can’t help himself but pull you to him. He hides his face in your neck, too shy to show just how good you made him feel. But he knows there’s another way to do that, so his hand that’s wrapped around your waist travels down and sneaks underneath your dress and inside your lace panties.

“Hmm,” he pants, finding out just what sucking him off did to you. 

He meets you in a frenzied kiss before turning you around, his fingers doing what they do best to your cunt while his mouth attacks your neck. His free hand fondles your breast, and it’s pleasure all over your body that you moan out every possible curse you could.

“Baby, it’s too good,” you heave, much louder than he is, as you normally are. “Fuck, I missed this. I want this everyday. I want you so fucking much everyday. Agh—”

Yoongi disregards your desire, one you’ve expressed multiple times in the last few weeks of this arrangement. He wants nothing more than to have this, too, but he’s learned a long time ago that wanting something so much doesn’t guarantee he’ll have it. Sometimes it’s worse; it’s hard to get back on your feet when you fail.

But he focuses on your pleasure, on the way that your body is responding to his movements, on the way that you’re pulling his hair and grinding against his fingers that’s sliding so perfectly in and out of you. He focuses on the way your sounds let him know that you’re feeling what he wants you to feel.

You reach your peak. Yoongi knows it when you lean your head against his chest and clench your thighs. Your hand goes over to his that’s on your breast, and he knows it’s too much now, so his fingers slow down, ultimately stopping. 

“Guess it’s just right that I have this, too,” he says, sucking his fingers that have your slick all over. 

You chuckle as you catch your breath, turning to him in time to watch him take his fingers in his mouth. His hand is perfect already; knowing it’s laced with your essence makes it even more irresistible. 

“I definitely want more but I’m also really hungry,” you pout, facing him now. “I didn’t get to have breakfast since I was asleep the whole ride here.”

“Did you barely get any sleep again?” He asks, knowing that tiring days make it harder for you.

“Just a little. Dinner with some friends ended late and then I had this early morning fitting for this gala next week,” you explain. “I said I’m only free before 9 so the stylist dropped by my place at 7.”

“Well, then you can spend the rest of the day just resting, okay?” He says, given that he has a meeting with the coaching staff before the team’s afternoon training. 

“I’ll be on your bed waiting for you to come home,” you wink. “Maybe I’ll be naked, too.”

Yoongi laughs and kisses you again, something you’ve noticed him do a lot more since getting back together. He used to wait for you to initiate anything when you first dated, only taking control once you’ve set the pace. Now, he doesn’t seem to mind - he kisses you more, hugs you more, pulls you in more. You like to think this is him missing you just as much; you don’t want to think it means anything else. 

You do as he says, making yourself comfortable on his bed with his scent enveloping you until he’s back home at 8, admitting that he dismissed everyone half an hour earlier so he could grab some dinner and get to you right away. 

It’s sex in the kitchen right after dinner, and gentler lovemaking when you’re both tucked in bed later that night. 

You have to leave right after lunchtime tomorrow, giving both of you just a bit of time for a meal after he finishes with morning training. It feels so fast and there’s never enough time. He’ll have to settle with texts and video calls again, which he was never good at. He’s always hated typing and talking on the screen but he always did it for you; there’s no other way, after all. And then he’ll have to wait for the next free time either of you gets to see each other once more. 

“I’ll miss you again,” you whisper, interrupting his thoughts. 

He thought you were already asleep.

“Me, too, jagi.”

“At least it’s just 3 hours, though,” you comfort yourself. “And no time difference. I don’t know how I’ll survive if we had an actual long-distance relationship that doesn’t let us see each other once a week.”

“That would be tough for me, too. I… I’m not good with calls and stuff like that,” he admits.

“Oh, I know,” you giggle. “You get anxious. And when you have nothing to say, you don’t get to hold my hand or play with my hair like you always do.”

“You know that, huh?”

“Min Yoongi, you’re fiddly with your fingers; you want to always be doing something with them, whether it’s stuffing them inside me or something more wholesome than that,” you laugh. “And I like it. Even when you don’t say much, you do other things that tell me just how much you love me.”

“You know me well, don’t you?”

“I’d like to think so. When I think about you as much as I do, that kinda happens.”

Yoongi just smiles and tells you to go to sleep. You follow and curl into him closer, your warmth comforting every part of his soul. 

He wishes he could love you more, not in a way that’s different to how he does it but in a way that lets you feel it every single day and every minute of it, and in a way that doesn’t tire either of you out, that doesn’t restrict and that doesn’t limit, that doesn’t end and that doesn’t hold back. Everyday he yearns for you, but so far he doesn’t know of any other way to do all that without either of you giving up something important. 

You have your fast-paced career that you were always meant to have; he has one that he’s fallen in love with. Your home is 3 hours away, and his is right here, where he gets to be with his dad whose only life now is the shop and nothing else. 

He’d seen the things people give up for the ones they love; he’s learned that giving up people you love for a dream happens, too. It’s his parents’ story and yours, after all. It’s both of yours, too. And even if he knows that your story will go in either direction, he chooses to live in the one you have now - in tangled limbs and hushed I love you’s under the covers, in cooked meals and lazy days in the comforts of your chosen homes, in untold desires of a different end to your story this time around. 

Yoongi surprises you the next week when he calls you on Friday night as you’re heading home from your event. He drove after afternoon training. Geumjae will be home for the weekend and help his dad in the shop, so there’s time to see you for a few days. 

You’re ecstatic when he shows up at your door, peppering him with kisses like every greeting after a week of being apart. 

You have an interview the next day that Jimin sneaks him in to watch. It’s the first time he’s ever done so, and watching you charm the hosts in your marigold dress hurts and heals his heart at the same time. 

You talk about your favorite roles and what acting means to you; you talk about the hard work you put into every character you play, doing your own research and taking classes to improve yourself. You talk about the love of the fans, how people reach out through letters and social media to tell you how you’ve been a source of joy for them. You live for this and Yoongi wishes he can witness it all the time, that he can see the fulfillment on your face when the hosts and crew compliment you even when the camera's not rolling. 

He wishes that you don’t feel too bad when you have to cancel dinner with him because of another dinner that Hoseok tells you about. It’s on short notice, as this casting director that he sent one of your auditions to some time ago is in town. The man thought to meet up with some friends and acquaintances from South Korea, and Hoseok insists that you join him.

You do, and Yoongi is not one bit disappointed. “Who knows? You might meet someone who’d give you your big break. Don’t worry about me,” he insists.

It’s 1AM when you return to your apartment, over an hour later than you promised. 

“There were more people than expected,” you explain, “so it was actually like a party with all these important people. Hoseok says that directors usually scout in these types of events, so I went for it. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here with you. You’re leaving tomorrow.”

“Nonsense,” he says this time, pulling you into a hug as you lay on the sofa with him, which is where he chose to wait for you. “I’m sure you charmed the guests there. I wouldn’t have kept you to myself, even if I was leaving tonight. There’s no way I’d let you pass up an opportunity like that.”

“You’re too understanding,” you pout. “We’ll stay in tomorrow, and then I’ll go to you next week. I don’t wanna miss your first game of the season.”

“And I can’t wait to see you on the stands, cheering for me,” he smiles.

You’re crying on the phone a few days later, apologetic to Yoongi because you can’t make it to Daegu for the season’s opening game. He’s been excited for his team, saying that they’re one of the favorites to win the tournament, and to be the first champion player and coach of his school would be the biggest honor, a dream he didn’t think he’d have. You hate that you have to miss it.

“One of the men I was talking with during the dinner last week turned out to be a casting director,” you explain. “He’s been in search of an actress for this TV series with a foreign production company and he reached out to Hoseok and wants me to audition. I—”

“And why are you apologizing?” Yoongi asks. “This is an audition that could change everything for you.

“But I promised I’d watch your game.”

“And you will, one day. You have to rehearse for this, ___. This is too important.”

“But—”

“You know that I won’t let you give something up for me, right?” He interjects. “That includes the time you need to prepare. Don’t be upset. I’ll tell you what happens, just promise me you’ll practice well. And I’ll see you when I can, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble on the other end. 

You want to see him badly, but you also haven’t stopped thinking about this audition. Hoseok doesn’t know all the details but there have been talks of a TV series that will do filming abroad; that means it’s a big budget show and something that the industry will surely hype up. You apparently caught the director’s attention with your carefree yet innocent energy, like there’s this joy and romanticism in you that the character embodies. You remember his question of you ever doing ballet before, and you said you took lessons from your mom who’s a ballerina, and the possibility of that being part of the role excites you. You don’t even know what it entails but you already know you really want it.

You enter the studio the next week, ready for what could be the biggest audition of your life. The fact that the casting director wanted you to audition before seeing any tape that Hoseok would have sent him makes you want to believe that you have a shot. The 2 scenes you’re given have varying emotions that you need to express, and Jin was your mentor throughout the week as you prepared for this moment. 

You’re buzzing with energy right after, feeling like you truly did your best. It was quite draining, since you put so much of yourself into it. You talked to Yoongi less during the week so maybe that’s why, too, but as you enjoy dinner and drinks at your apartment with Jimin, Taehyung, and Jin, you wish that your boyfriend could be here, too. They had a morning game in Heongseong so he must still be tired. 

But your smile is immediate when he sends you a message. 

[From: Yoongi 💕] I’m sure you did great but still, how was it? 

You exchange texts throughout the evening as your friends tease you for ignoring them now, but you laugh along. 

“Are there any more details about the show?” Taehyung asks. “Like what your role is or where it’ll be filmed?”

“None yet, but Hoseok seems excited when he talks about it. Maybe he doesn’t wanna say too much so I don’t get too upset if I don’t get it,” you say. “Let’s just hope it’s a big deal if I get the role, and a cheap ass show if I don’t.”

“Have you thought about what’ll happen to you and Yoongi if it ends up being a big deal?” Jin asks, worry painted on his face because as a fellow actor who’s also done filming abroad, he knows what’s expected of you and what more you have to give up.

“Not yet, I don’t want to worry myself if it turns out to be nothing,” you say. “We’ll figure it out. We've sort of just been doing things one day, one week at a time, you know? We don’t need unnecessary drama at this point.”

Your friends look at each other, collectively deciding not to burst your bubble and this world you’ve created with the man you love dearly. It might not be worth it, but it may also be a big blow if you and him don’t prepare for the implications of a new role, however small or big it is. Your life continues here and so does Yoongi’s, 3 hours away. It may not seem much, but given your respective careers, 3 hours may be a little more than you can handle.

But you’re happy. You’re tired from the travels because every bit of downtime you get, you’re driving to Daegu to see him because Yoongi’s jobs don’t give him as much freedom as you do. You’re incredibly happy knowing that you at least get to be with him, even if the time limit causes you to just spend the days in instead of savoring the autumn season and walking around town.

It’s 3 weeks later when Yoongi’s in your apartment that everything changes. You hadn’t seen him since that time he came here when he watched you do your interview. You’ve been guesting in shows to Hoseok’s insistence in hopes of continuing your relevance as you await a new project, and with a school holiday coming up, Yoongi has the weekend to spare.

It’s the usual stay-in, and it’s in the middle of a make out session as you straddle him that your phone rings, with Hoseok’s face showing up on the screen when you answer the call.

“Hey,” you say, settling yourself down on the couch. “What’s up? And why are you panting?”

“I was doing my groceries when I got a call, and I had to run to my car to let you know,” he replies, building anticipation. But he doesn’t make you wait too long, as he announces the news. “You got the role, ___. And it’s just as big as I heard.”

“Wh—what?” You mumble, not knowing which words of his to focus on. 

“NBC is working with a French production company for this series. It’s an anticipated show with big stars and it’ll be shown around the world,” he explains, your mind still reeling from the news. “You’re taking the lead, ___. This is the big break we’ve been hoping for.”

“Oh my goodness,” you finally say, tears streaming down your face as you process the news. “This is— this amazing, Hoseok. I… I don’t know what to say. What are the details?”

“They’re sending them later and we can go over everything before they give the official offer.”

“Okay,” you reply, trying to calm your racing heart. Looking over at Yoongi who’s smiling softly at you, you know who you want to celebrate with. “Just let me know. I’ll just process all this first.”

“Sure thing,” Hoseok says. “I’m so proud of you, ___. I can’t wait for the world to see what you can do.”

You put the phone down and look at Yoongi next to you. He tugs your arm and you return to your seat on his lap, hugging him as you whisper that you got the role.

He returns the affection, enveloping you in his warmth as he lets you cry against his chest.

“I’m so happy for you, jagi,” he hums against your ear. “You deserve all this and more. Everyone’s gonna fall in love with you all over again.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you sob. “I’m scared but I’m so excited. Am I good enough for this? It feels like such a risk to be handing this kind of task to someone who’s only had her first lead role last year.”

“Jagi, of course you are,” he comforts, turning your head to face him and wiping your tears as they fall. “You got asked to audition after meeting at a party; that’s got to say a lot about the role fitting you so perfectly that whatever it is you exude is exactly what they’re looking for. I mean, I hope it’s all positive though.”

You giggle in sniffles. 

“And your first lead role just happened to be huge. And that obviously helped in your audition and the directors choosing you,” he continues. “You earned this. Treat it as a challenge. And knowing you, you’ll put your heart into it as you always do.”

“Thank you,” you mumble, as you melt into his touch, moving to kiss the hand that’s cupping your cheek. “I’m so glad I get to share this moment with you.”

“Me, too, jagi. Me, too.”

It’s the next morning when you learn more about the project, with Hoseok coming to your apartment in the morning to discuss it with you. He arrives with breakfast for 3, and you don’t miss his soft-but-bordering-on-sadness look when you say that Yoongi’s staying for the weekend.

“Is he up?” Your manager asks as he walks to your kitchen with you. 

“Nope, still asleep. He won’t be up for another hour or so.”

“Okay, good. Then I won’t be here to break the news to him.”

“What do you mean?”

Hoseok goes on to tell you about the call with the directors last night. They’re excited to have you on board, they said, loving the way you portrayed the emotions during your audition. Your face is what they’re looking for, and there’s an elegance yet relatability in you that’s perfect for the role. It’s a lot of nice words leading up to what it would entail, and at the end of it, you’re left even more excited and even more nervous. It’s almost everything you’ve dreamed of, only because of what you know you have to leave behind. 

Over an hour passes by and Hoseok stands up to leave. 

“I know you want this,” he says, “and this is what you’ve been working hard for. I don’t have to tell you what to do.”

“I know, Hoseok,” you sigh. “I know what I have to do.”

“You’ll be okay?”

“I guess.”

“What about him?”

“I hope so.”

He gives you a hug before he leaves, and it’s right as your bedroom door opens and Yoongi exits, mussed hair and sleepy eyes greeting you.

“Hey,” you say, walking towards him for a long, tight hug. 

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you smile. “Hoseok was over and I had him bring some breakfast,” you say, leading him to the counter where an array of sandwiches and parties await him.

“Oh, you talked about the role and stuff?”

You nod in response, sitting next to him as he eats. 

“Are you allowed to tell me about it?”

“Yeah, so uhm. It’s about this young woman who gets into ballet after her adoptive parents die. She meets a man, falls in love, and there’s drama there, and then another man finds her who happens to be someone she knew when she was younger, and there’s drama there, too, since she discovers something about her parents and their death that makes her question her identity and basically her entire life,” you narrate. 

“You’re playing a ballerina?” He gasps. “___, that’s perfect for you. I’m sure your mom would be ecstatic.”

“She will,” you manage a smile. “And also, uh, it’ll be filmed mostly in Paris.”

“Hmm,” he responds, unable to look you in the eyes. “So it’s a foreign series?”

“Not really. It’s a joint project between production companies,” you explain. “My male love interests are Korean and French. There’s a mix of actors in it and the cast is amazing. And there’s a lot going on, so much drama and romance and art. The venues look amazing and I—”

You stop at the feel of tears pricking your eyes, prompting Yoongi to ask what’s wrong.

“I… I’ll be away for a while,” you say. “Filming will take at least 6 months and I have to fly there earlier for French and ballet lessons. And promotions would be huge. And—”

You’re crying harder now, as the words make things even more real. You’re not only playing a role that seems to fit you perfectly; you’re also gonna be in Paris where your mom is. To be able to be with her is just as much of a dream for you, especially as she gets to watch you do what you love. 

But that also means leaving behind the person you love most in the world, and as he stands to cradle your head in his arms, you feel the weight of your own dreams pull you down. Being 3 hours away has been challenging for both of you; you can’t imagine how much more when you’re thousands of miles away. 

“Jagi-ya, everything sounds amazing,” he says, but you don’t miss the sadness in his voice. “You get to learn new things, you get to be with your mom, you get to be in a new place and act and do what you love. It’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“I just… I just don’t want to be so far away from you, not again,” you say. 

Yoongi doesn’t know the words to say. He was never good with them, especially when it came to you. He always had other ways to show you how he felt, but he doesn’t have anything for this. He’s incredibly happy for you, but just like you, he doesn’t want to be far away from the person he loves most. 

But there’s a reason why he doesn’t think he’ll be good at long-distance relationships. It’s the love he’d fail to show, the needs he’d fail to address, it’s the time that’d pass and the changes in between that would be too difficult for him to handle. Much as he wants to comfort you and say that everything will be alright and that you’ll both be okay, he doesn’t have it in him to break your heart by making promises he can’t keep. He loves you and will continue to; he just doesn’t know how to do that properly when he’s not next to you.

So he just kisses you, tender in all the ways that he can make it, to let you know whatever it is he can’t say, that he doesn’t have words for. It stops your cries a little, but the sight of your tear-stained cheeks still hurts him. 

Neither of you says anything for a while but you don’t let go of each other. Even the rest of the day is spent similarly - with minimal conversations and hands that don’t separate, lips that constantly find each other, and bodies that give and feel pleasure as if this is all you can give because for now, words aren’t enough. 

Maybe you’ll find the words one day and so will he. Maybe then they’ll be enough - to heal your heart or break it, you don’t quite know. 

Your heart has been heavy since Yoongi left your apartment last week. You’re not sure if you were expecting him to assure you that things are going to be fine between the both of you, but it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when he chose not to say anything about it. You know that he’s the type to think hard about what he’ll say; maybe he just didn’t know what to tell you then, but days later, he still doesn’t, and that’s ringing the tiniest alarm bells in your head. 

He acknowledges your messages of updates you give about the project. You’re working with Hoseok to look at the contract and the schedules, and you’re getting more details as the days go by. Yoongi doesn’t ask anything more, though, a rarity since he’s said before that he enjoys it when you talk about work. 

You want to just be with him, knowing that a hug or a kiss would ease the tension, but that itself makes you worry. What will happen when you’re away and there’s something going on that you both don’t want to address? How would you resolve that when you can’t just drive to each other to fix things? What if he’s going through something that he doesn’t want to talk about? It’s happened before after all. What if you’re struggling and missing him so much? What if the time and distance become too much? 

You let the week pass without seeing each other. Their team has an out-of-town game and the shop has work requests that he’s helping his dad with. You’re also exhausted from all the meetings this week; you have an upcoming photoshoot that you’re preparing for, too.  

So you decide to take an early drive to Daegu the next weekend, getting the ire of Hoseok who had to move a meeting that Saturday because you asked. 

“I just really, really need to see him,” you tell your manager over the phone. “I’m worried about us and I’m losing my mind. I need to know that things are okay.”

Hoseok doesn’t argue. You rarely ever ask to move things around and this matters too much to you, as your shaky voice tells him. 

You make it to the gymnasium for the game, finding Mr. Min in one of the seats and surprising him. 

“Hello, my dear,” he beams, hugging you tightly. “I’m so glad you’re here. Does my son know you’re coming?”

“No, I kinda just decided last night.”

“Okay, then. Maybe your presence will cure his grumpiness,” the old man laughs.

“He’s been grumpy?” You wonder, not having seen that through his texts this past week.

“Yeah, more than usual. He hasn’t been that way since you arrived last summer,” he says. “They had a bad loss the other day. He’s also stressing himself out by helping me manage the shop when I said I could do it. You two didn’t fight, did you?”

“No,” you respond. “I mean, not that I know of.”

“Well, then can you just comfort him in case something else is up? Maybe he also just misses you.”

You hum in response and try to enjoy the game. It’s quite a stressful one that Yoongi doesn’t get to look your way. They eventually lose in a heartbreaking manner and you can sense his frustration through his gritted teeth and blank stare. You decide to send him a text that you’re here and will just wait for him at his apartment. He replies with an “okay.”

He arrives with a look of disappointment that you don’t know how to ease. During the times he’d lose in their games as a player before, he said he just liked to deal with it on his own but having you around made things better. It seems that’s still the case now, as he falls into your embrace once he enters the door. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry your first game is a loss.”

“It’s okay, it won’t be the last one,” you assure. “At least I got to watch you be a sexy coach and all.”

He chuckles and kisses you, but you can feel he’s still upset, so you don’t push it, knowing that talking about something else upsetting like your scheduled departure won’t do you any good, even if it’s one reason why you came here in the first place. You decide to just let the day pass with cuddles and barely any words. He falls asleep early, with his arms around your waist, and you’ve never felt so far away from him.

You plan to leave in the late afternoon the next day. You both sleep through the morning and Yoongi makes you a loaded brunch to make up for being upset after the loss. You suppose it’s good a time as any, so you tell him that you took the offer and will be signing the contract next week.

“I’m leaving in a month,” you say. “I’ll be away for at least 7 months with projects waiting for me in Seoul. It’s a lot, Yoongi. And I don’t know where we stand right now. You haven’t really said much since the other week.”

“It’s really happening,” he smiles, the tinge of sadness unmistakable. “I guess I’ve been avoiding what taking this role would mean.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer, prompting you to ask again. 

“Jagi, it’s a big project that requires so much of your time and energy. And I don’t… I don’t want you to be thinking of anything else that isn’t about that.”

“You don’t want me to be thinking of you, is that it? You don’t want to go through this with me. Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“What I’m trying to say is that you need to put all your focus on your role, remove all distractions and stuff. That includes me.”

“You’re not seriously suggesting we end this over a 7-month project, are you?” You ask, incredulous that it’s his immediate thought. 

“A lot can happen in 7 months.”

“Like what? I’m not gonna change. I'm not gonna fall in love with someone else while I’m away,” you insist. “I already know I’m gonna be missing you like crazy everyday, wishing you were with me.”

“Exactly. Do you think that would do you any good? Missing someone who can’t be there next to you?”

“How would you know it won’t?”

“Because we’ve done this before, and I know what you had to give up to be there for me because I couldn’t be there for you,” he exclaims. “Remember how it was all those years ago? The late-nights running over lines because you spent the whole day with me? The back-and-forth trips to see me because I couldn’t move? The missed auditions because you had to come here just so I wouldn’t have another breakdown? Loving me while living your dream never did you any good. This is too big for you to consider me a part of it.”

“Are you hearing yourself?” You demand. “I made all those decisions because I loved you and I’d make them over and over again. Things are different now. We’ve learned. We’re more mature and you’re not… you’re not broken anymore.”

“But loving me this time around isn’t gonna be any different. It won’t be easy,” he argues. “We survived the past weeks with an arrangement that barely works but we try and yes, it’s all worth it when we finally see each other but how long will he have to hold on for those 7 months you’ll be away? Missing each other? Hoping to be with each other?”

He heaves, feeling so much at this moment. He wants to pull you close to him, hug you as you cry but he doesn’t know if it’s the right thing to do. He doesn’t know how to comfort you when he’s the one breaking your heart.

“I… I’m not good at expressing how I feel,” he continues. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do with myself while you’re gone, I don’t know how to be there for you while you’re not here. And I don’t want you to feel burdened with going away because of who you’re leaving behind. You apologize every time you have to go back to your life, and I’d hate for you to feel that you’re meant to be anywhere but there. That’s where you belong. You always have.”

You stand there in disbelief just as he is. He’d been in denial for so long about the both of you, choosing instead to live in his version of reality where your dreams and plans align, where your days are spent in your own world and nothing - including him, could hurt you. 

It’s easy to say he’s being over dramatic. There’s so much love between the both of you; clearly that should be enough to make things work. It’s just 7 months after all. But he knows how you love and how you want to be loved. He knows that as long as you’re together, you’ll be constantly living in 2 worlds - the one where you’re living your dream and the one where you’re wishing you weren’t, because somehow, he’ll just always exist in the latter. 

He’ll have a hard time, too, and that’s what he’s terrified about. He doesn’t want to say just how much he misses you, because he misses you a lot. The last thing he wants is for you to be burdened by it, and Yoongi knows that if he’ll struggle, he’d rather he does it without you knowing, and staying together would just hurt the both of you, and your dream is too important for your distance to affect that.

“I don’t know why you don’t even think that it could work,” you say. 

“It could, but to what expense?” He asks. 

You could always come with me, you want to say, but you know that would never be an option. He didn’t think Seoul was for him all those years ago; you doubt he’d think Paris would be. He has his own dreams to live in this town, the big and the gentle ones. Those matter just as much, and you wouldn’t want him to give those up, especially after what he suffered through. Those are what’s left for him, what pushes him. They’re what he lives for. You thought at one point, so were you. 

“I guess I was being naive,” he says after a long beat. “I didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to get back with you so when we did, nothing else mattered. All I knew was that I was happy for the first time in a long time. I didn’t dare to think of what would happen after the summer. I was naive to think that things wouldn’t change much, that we would go on without needing to talk about it. And now this big thing is happening for you and it was just a slap on the face.”

You look at him as he struggles to look at you. He fiddles with his fingers, and you want nothing more than to hold his hand but you don’t know what that would do, not if this turns out to be the end of things. Somehow you don’t have the will to fight because a part of you knows he’s right. You just wish he wasn’t. 

With how both of you love and want to be loved, you know it’s going to be hard, and it’s too much to ask for one of you to give something up. He watched his family get hurt with such choices; you just wish he’d at least try to make it work. 

“I thought it was gonna be different this time around,” you finally say. “I guess I was being naive, too. Something else will always be more important than us.”

You’ve only seen Yoongi cry once and you remember how much it broke you to see that. He’s not the type to show that much emotion, so seeing him break right now with a few tears rolling down his face is breaking you in all the ways possible. 

“I’m sorry,” he heaves, covering his face as he tries to stop crying. “You didn’t come all the way here just for us to end like this.”

“It seems like we’d have to eventually,” you respond, feeling the numbness start to course through you, just like that first time. “I know you have your own dreams to live here. And I’m so sorry, too, for coming back and messing up the life you’ve created for yourself in this place.”

“I don’t regret being with you again, ___. All I’ve ever been was happy with you.”

“Maybe one day, in 10 years perhaps, or in another lifetime,” you manage to say as you wipe your tears. “Maybe then we’ll finally choose us.”

You decide against kissing him a final time, knowing you’ll probably ask him to take it all back. So you give him a smile, one that tells him that sad as you may be, deep down you understand. And it’s all going to be okay.

You struggle for the next 2 weeks, trying to keep all the hurt in until you finally concede and ask your friends to come over so you can cry everything out. They do their best to comfort you, but they know that all you want is their presence so that you don’t have to go through this all on your own. You insist that all you need is a good cry and you’ll be fine. 

There’s a whole world waiting for you in 2 weeks’ time. The crew hosting you there wants you to experience Paris in the best way possible. You’re excited for the lessons and you can’t wait to be with your mom again. Jimin will be accompanying you so you know you won’t get bored, and there’s so much to see and do that you think you’ll be too preoccupied to think about your broken heart. You’ve met with the cast and you already know that you’re gonna get along well. Your male leads have been lovely, too, and you know you have to be comfortable with them enough for the intimate scenes you’ll be having. 

But tonight, you cry and you cry hard. It ends with Taehyung hugging you as you sleep, and that wouldn’t be the last. For the next several days, Jimin makes sure that you’re never alone, always showing up with a cup of coffee and texting you everyday of a new place to check out in Paris. Jin savors the time he has with you, taking you to lunches and dinners - sparking once more those rumors about the 2 of you dating - and hyping you up for your role. 

You even meet Jungkook and Namjoon, who try their best to comfort you after you narrate what happened. 

“No need to update me about him this time,” you tell them. “Somehow I just know he’s gonna be okay. But still, please make sure he is.”

Your busy schedule helps keep you from thinking about Yoongi, but as you learn, all it really takes is a broken hair tie to remind you of the love you lost the second time around, and how despite all the good things waiting for you, you know deep down you would’ve wanted to experience all of this with him.

It doesn’t help that on the weekend before you leave, your photoshoot location happens to be in a town just 30 minutes west of Daegu. Following your heart this one time, you instruct the driver to head to Yoongi’s house, assuring Jimin that you just want to have a proper goodbye with the man before you leave.

Yoongi’s car is parked outside so you know he’s home. Keeping yourself from running back to yours, you garner the courage to walk the steps to his front door, ringing the bell and taking a deep breath when you hear footsteps behind it.

He stands before you, his disheveled hair and the black crescents under his eyes telling you that he’s maybe struggling just as much as you are. 

“Hey,” you greet, trying so hard to level your voice. “I was in town and thought I’d drop by. Can I come in for a bit?”

“Y-yeah, sure,” he says, stepping aside to let you enter. “It’s just quite a mess.”

You look around, his apartment suddenly looking way different from that last time you were here. There are unwashed dishes on the sink and piles of takeaway boxes on the table. You spot the bottles of whiskey on the floor and the blankets on the couch. You hate to think that this is how he was that first time, and the thought breaks you even more. 

“It’s just been a hard couple of weeks,” he says, seeing your face falter at the state of his place.

That’s quite an understatement, actually. He’s been a terrible mess since you left that day. He’s glad he’s at least professional enough to get his shit together during training and games, but once he gets home, he stops  caring about anything else. He likes to think it’s just a phase; he was like this the first time he let you go, and it took a while but he did get his act together. 

“It’s been hard for me, too,” you admit, catching him by surprise. “I leave in a week but I feel quite unprepared. There’s too much of myself I’m leaving behind.”

“Hey, ja— I mean, ___. I told you not to think about it,” he says. “You’re gonna do great, okay? And you’ll love it there. They have amazing parks and so many flower shops and vintage stores. You’ll never run out of things to do. You’ll—”

Your sudden hug stops him, even more when you start crying against his chest, your tears soaking through his shirt and he just knows, those will leave a mark. 

“Why didn’t you ask me to stay,” you sob. “We could have a life here together. Just you and me. Just ask me, please.”

The words sound foreign but they’re yours, and they hold truths that you don’t want to vocalize, only because it feels like betraying your dream, even if a big part of you knows that the man currently holding you is just as much your dream as being an actor is. You wish you were brave enough to choose this life and that he would be, too. But you always knew that your plans for yourselves never aligned with each other’s; it never really did. Summer romances don’t last, after all, and they’re meant to fall away just like the season does. 

But you let yourself be vulnerable at this moment, even if you know that his response wouldn’t change, and that would somehow hurt you more. 

“I can’t, ___. You know I can’t,” he says, his voice shaking as he lets himself be vulnerable and cries, too. “You were always meant for more. This place, this isn’t more; it never was. And that means me, too.”

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you say, facing him now. 

“You’ve wanted this for much longer than you’ve wanted me,” he says, cupping your cheek. 

You close your eyes as you feel his touch for what seems to be the last time, your tears constantly falling that his thumb wipes away.

“Just live that dream for me, okay? That’s all I want. That would be enough,” he whispers, kissing your forehead.

“Promise me you’ll live yours, too?” 

“I will,” he says. 

You let yourself be weak one last time and kiss his lips, soft and quick, enough to have something for both of you to hold onto.

He looks at you with sorry eyes and you know that’s all he could give you - an apology.

“Goodbye, Yoongi.”

Yoongi waits patiently inside his car, his fingers tapping the wheel as if that would magically call you out of your apartment building. You told him your flight schedule before and he knows you usually leave early because you don’t like being late. You should be leaving around this time, and quite frankly, he doesn’t know why he’s even here. It seems as if he can’t let you go every time, but he does anyway, even if he yearns to crawl back to you right after. 

He’s parked nearby, close enough to see you exit the building, but far enough to hide in case he chickens out. It’s not long before he sees a van pull up and Jimin and a few men loading up endless luggage bags. You exit right after, in comfortable clothes and a baseball cap, and he stops himself from going out of his car to give you one last hug. 

He watches you hug Taehyung who sends you off. The time ticks and you’re entering your car, closing the door, and driving away.

Yoongi’s eyes follow the van until it disappears from his sight, knowing that whatever chance he had to tell you he loves you one last time is gone. Maybe it’s better that he didn’t. What good is his love if it’s not enough to keep you next to him? Maybe it’s enough to make you happy, he decides, but not enough to make you happy with him. 

A knock on the window interrupts him, and he’s about to come up with some bullshit excuse on why he’s parked outside the building when he realizes it’s Taehyung. Yoongi exits the car and greets his friend.

“You know she would’ve liked to see you, right?” The younger man says. “It’s why you’re here, isn’t it? You wanted to see her, too?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi shrugs. “I guess I just didn’t want the last image I have of her to be one where she’s crying because I’m breaking her heart again.”

“She’s taking it a lot better this time around. She’s not denying how much it hurts, and I think that helps,” Taehyung says. “You were the best thing in her life these past few months, and she’s just choosing to keep all the good memories with her.”

“That’s good,” Yoongi hums. 

The thought of you being more positive is already making him feel a lot better.

“She wanted me to give this to you,” Taehyung adds, handing Yoongi a small envelope. “Take care of yourself, okay? And for her sake, please win that championship.”

Both men share a laugh in the crisp autumn air, and it’s enough to ease the tension. Taehyung bids him goodbye and Yoongi returns to his car, choosing to read whatever you left for him back home.

Yoongi, 

I didn’t want our last time to be full of tears and I wish I got to say this all to you and hold you while I did.

I know that I’m happiest when I’m with you and that will never change. But for now, we’ll go on chasing the dreams that keep us whole. I hope one day both our dreams will include each other. 

Your heart will always be my home. Thank you for sharing it with me. 

With all the love I could possibly give from thousands of miles away and everyday,

___.

Series Masterlist

Permanent Taglist: @sherlynxx​ @di0rgguk​ @thequeen-kat​ @fan-ati--c​  @cravingforhotchocolate​ @adoraminie​ @helenazbmrskai​ @weasleyswizarding-wheezes​ @gukssunshine​ @nch327​ @kookxin​ @petuliii​ @yoursthv​ @libra04​ @fancycollectormoon​ @twixxxpie​ @ignoretheskies​ @ohmydarlin-g​ @bids97​ @minyoongiboongi​ @bangtansmauyeondan​ @bora-bae7 @investedreader​ @petalsofink​ @moonchild1​ @jvngkooker​ @starbtslove​​ @jungoomoles

Series Taglist: @wobblewobble822​​​​ @shydestinyyouth​​ @nk01119888-blog @ktownshizzle​

[makedonsgriva]

Devil Venerable Also Wants To Know : A Review

So I generally don't do reviews. But going through the tumblr tag and then on AO3 and seeing the abysmal amount of posts and fanfics, I am writing this review in hopes of someone reading this and then getting convinced by my agenda.

Because Devil Venerable Also Wants to Know deserves to be read by yall.

IT. IS. SO. GOOD.

To summarize, we start with the leader of the demonic Xuanyuan Sect, Wenren E, getting a copy of a trashy romance novel, Abusive Romance.

What baffles him is that he, a logical, rational person who has never felt love in his life, is the second lead and falls in love with the Mary Sue female lead and gives up everything for her and dies in the end for her too.

What makes him even more confused that after he dies in the novel, his loyal subordinate Yin Hanjiang is driven to madness and is hell bent on revenge, pursuing the female lead to kill her.

Wenren E decides that this cannot be allowed. He is not afraid of death, (although he does mind that it was for a stupid reason and not on his own terms) but he very much minds the fact that his subordinate went insane after it. So he sets out to re write destiny.

Now let's talk about the highlights of this book

The Characters

DVAWTK is full of interesting, fun and exciting characters who will remain etched in your memory. Whether it is the sensuous, ruthless and ambitious Shu Yanyan or the wise, perceptive and kind Zhongli Qian, there is a multitude of characters to pick from to love and adore and all of them have deeper and hidden depths that give them layers of complexities.

Not to mention, DVAWTK has several strong and amazing female characters. I have mostly read MXTX books and this is where she lacks the most: hardly any strong female characters. She writes shockingly amazing characters but most of them are male and I mostly don't mind but I do wish I got some great girls to cherish in there too.

Cyan Wings does not disappoint in that aspect. All their female characters are wonderfully well fleshed out. Especially Baili Qingmiao. Seeing her go from the biggest girlfailure to an absolute girlboss over 70 something chapters is satisfying in a sense the way, and I quote the book here, "one feels about their first daughter finally grow up" Chef's kiss truly.

The Plot

The plot is engaging but nothing too crazy, if I am being honest. Apart from a couple of reveals and plot twists that were shocking, it mostly stuck to a more or less predictible story line. That does not mean it was not good; it was. Most of the arcs keep you engaged enough to keep reading without being able to put the story down and tie into each other seamlessly. As such, there are no plot holes and stupid or unnecessary story lines. It works very well to support the characters and their personal growth and arcs.

The Humour

Top notch. So well done. Got me laughing out loud multiple times and earned me a lot of weird looks from my roommate but all worth it. SVSSS was the funniest work I read but DVAWTK gives it a run for its money in terms of the comedy it has and also it's general unhinged-ness, mostly thanks to it's characters. Everyone at the Demonic Xuanyuan Sect is a goofball although they are not trying to be. The skeleton lady Qiu Congxue has no brains. Literally. A ghost ate it so you can guess just how well she is faring in the books.

(she still is immensely powerful tho)

The Romance

So far the biggest freaks I had found while reading Danmei are Mo Ran and Luo Binghe.

Yin Hanjiang is a hundred times worse.

He is an absolute psycho, a complete nutter, powerful beyond comprehension and hopelessly devoted to Wenren E. And Wenren E, once realising his own feelings, thinks it is all so hot!! (makes you really wonder just who is more insane among the two)

My subordinate wants to destroy the entire cultivation world after my death? He has my full support that's so cute of him <3

Freak4freak with some very beautiful and tender moments and an absolute badass power couple who kick ass together in battles. Truly amazing. I love love love wenrenjiang.

The World building

Wonderfully well done and also easy to follow! I especially liked how cultivation was viewed from a different light in this novel and how the book explores the ways it is actually harmful to mortals. I actually learnt a lot about various cultivation stages from this novel and came to understand some common aspects of xianxia novels. DVAWTK uses many technical terms in terms of cultivation and it is fun to read and learn about it

Found Family

Need I say more? Like what's better than a bunch of idiots coming together and growing on their journey thanks to each other? *gently holds Su Huai, Baili Qingmiao, Qiu Congxue and Zhongli Qian in my palms* they are so important to me

Final Thoughts

DVAWTK is a great read with a very satisfying ending. It keeps you hooked till the very end and I am honestly surprised it is so underrated. I am very glad it is getting an official translation soon so hopefully, it will amass more readers although the unofficial translation I read is also very good. It deserves way more hype and fans then it has because it's so silly, so good and so well done. Ugh I hope it also gets some kind of adaptation some day to make it more popular because it deserves it all.

Please read this novel. That's what I want to say. You will not be disappointed.

[stratossphere]

Been thinking about ville with an absolute sweetheart of a gf for a good while now…i just LOVE the grumpy X sunshine dynamic sm😭

(Ik hes also a sweetheart when he wants to be but hes also so mopey sometimes💀)

sweetheart | v.v

you manage to drag ville along on errands, and he takes it really well.

warnings: general grouchiness, fluff

word count: 3.3k

a/n: i loved this req! my fav trope ever 🥹

tags: @asskickedbygirl @lieutenant-cinnamon-roll @kissofdawn666 @brandons-wife @valos-venus-doom @ghoulishguns @4377666

— —

Sometimes, you wondered if Ville Valo had been born on the wrong side of the bed. You loved your boyfriend to death, and there was not another person in this world that you would rather be around, but you had never met such a grouchy human being in your entire life.

You'd managed to drag him along for what was mostly a day of errands and just shopping in general, and the man was miserable. Sure, he'd held your hand the entire time, and hadn't refused to do anything that you wanted to do (which you appreciated), but that didn't mean he couldn't complain the whole time.

"I don't understand how this is fun for you. This fucking sucks." He grumbled as you held up another shirt to his chest to gauge whether or not you wanted him to try it on, pouting down at you as you hummed indecisively between the two shirts in your hand. He refused to give any opinions on what he liked and/or disliked, so you were on your own for picking. You'd decided to go into a clothes store despite knowing you were setting yourself up for a shitstorm of whining, because Ville's shirts all had more holes than they didn't, and it was going about how you had expected it to go.

"Lighten up, honey. You're going to have women falling at your feet if you wear the clothes I'm picking out." You said reassuringly, deciding on a shirt and then throwing it over your arm where you had a couple more picked out. He rolled his eyes.

"I don't want women falling at my feet. I want to take a nap." He looked morosely at the pile of shirts you had amassed, and you could already tell that getting him into a dressing room was going to be like pulling teeth. You only reached up to cup the back of his head so that he leaned down before you kissed his cheek, getting in three before he pulled back.

"Well, at least these'll be comfortable to nap in." That was your consolation, because it's not like he was really going to listen to anything else you could've said, anyway. "If I come in with you, will you please try these on?"

"Ugh. Fine." Sometimes, he kind of reminded you of an angsty teenager. You only smiled and took his hand back where you'd slipped yours out to sort through shirts, leading him towards the dressing rooms so that you could force him to give you a mini fashion show that you knew he would hate.

Once you had coerced him into a dressing room and had the door shut, Ville immediately dropped down on the bench, looking like he'd just been through a torture chamber. You hung your shirt collection on a hook so that you could hand them to him one by one, crossing your arms when he didn't move from where he was sitting.

"Ville. You have to try on the shirts." You reminded him of your agreement, not falling for his miserable look because it wasn't going to make you change your mind either way. He groaned.

"But this is so boring. Why do I have to try them on if you know my size already?" He insisted, essentially throwing a fit as he shot a glare at the shirt already in your hand. You just laughed, because he was almost painfully dramatic, before running a hand over his hair.

"Because I want to see how handsome you look." You cooed, handing over the first shirt and then motioning for him to get up so that you could sit and watch him change. "And hey. I'm having fun."

"Yeah. That's because you like torturing me." Like you said, dramatic. You were still laughing, and it only got worse as you listened to him huff the whole time he was pulling his extremely-ratty shirt over his head.

"If this is what you consider torture, I'm worried about how you function in real life." You teased, appreciating the sight of him shirtless paired with the extremely-low waist of his jeans as he finished getting his shirt off. It was easier to deal with his attitude when you had such a beautiful sight in front of you.

You went through each shirt slowly, mostly because it took about a minute of him fighting you on it, but eventually he'd tried on every single one. And, low and behold, every single one looked good on him. Who would've ever been able to guess.

"Mm. You are so handsome." You hummed as he peeled off the last shirt that he had been forced to try on, wrapping an arm around his waist just over his belt while you grinned up at him. "Give me a kiss."

"I'm glad you find this so funny." He muttered as he gave you your requested kiss, getting caught when your arm wrapped around his neck so that he couldn't get away when you pressed multiple kisses to his lips.

"I don't find it funny. I'm having a good time because I love you." You rephrased, rubbing your thumb over his cheek before you let him go. "Even though you're being whiney."

"Am not." The implication apparently offended him despite the fact that whining was all he'd been doing relentlessly all day, but he took your hand when you offered it to him regardless.

"Whatever you say, baby. I promise we're almost done."

Well, that was until you were walking down the street, bags in Ville's hand after he refused to let you carry anything, and you realized that you were on the same street as Kari Valo's sex shop.

"Oh! Let's go say hi to your dad!" You said excitedly. You'd just been at Ville's parents' house three days ago for dinner, but you never passed up an opportunity to at least pop into the store to say hi when you had the chance. Ville let out the world's loudest groan right there in the middle of the street, holding you back by his grip on your hand.

"We just saw him. The man is going to talk your ear off." He pointed out not untruthfully, and you knew that if he had a watch, he would've been checking it. Ville was on old person time when it came to how long he allowed himself (and you, by association) to be out and about. You scoffed.

"He's your dad. You'll survive." You yanked him right along then, ignoring his grumbles of complaint as you crossed the street with a perfected skill. You liked to remind yourself of the hours upon hours you'd spent watching him make the same sound repeatedly in a studio into the late hours of the night when everyone else had gone home when he started getting impatient. Once whatever activity you forced him into beat that, then he could complain all he wanted.

Kari was stocking when you stepped into the shop, but when he turned around and saw you walking in with his macabre son dragging along behind you, he was immediately on his feet.

"Oh! My dear! I didn't know you two were around!" He said ecstatically, pulling you into a hug as soon as you were close enough. Once you had been squeezed into breathlessness, he pulled back and eyed up his older son. "I see you brought the moper with you."

"I'm not deaf." Ville said dryly as he was also pulled into a bone-crushing hug, his unimpressed glare making its way back to you over his father's shoulder. Kari tutted.

"Why must you torture my poor daughter-in-law with your attitude?" He asked, clapping his son on the shoulder before he was motioning for the both of you to come further into the store. "What are you two up to today?"

"I got the crust-punk wannabe some new clothes considering his were literally falling apart at the seams." You revealed, ignoring Ville's disgruntled look at being called a crust-punk wannabe in favor of taking the bags from his hands. "You're not going to believe it, but some of these aren't even black."

"I was forced. I've been in shopping malls all fucking day." Ville added on, shaking his head at the thought as he leaned against the check-out counter to watch as you pulled out his new shirts to show Kari. Kari only snorted.

"That's a good thing. Maybe she'll finally be able to reform you into a suitable dresser." He teased. Well, half of the shirts you'd bought him had a band logo on them, because there's no way you would've been able to convince him to wear all nice shirts, but the idea was there.

"Yeah. Can't you tell?" You pointed to where the collar of Ville's t-shirt had started to rip away from the rest of the shirt material, leaving a long, thin hole between the two parts. Of course, he absolutely refused to throw it away, so the hole only continued to get bigger considering he wore the shirt around three times a week.

"I think you look like a homeless person when you wear stuff like that." Kari said disapprovingly, waving off the holes in Ville's clothes as he shook his head. Ville rolled his eyes, clearly building a retort, but you just laughed.

"Hey. He's still devilishly handsome." You defended your boyfriend, your grin widening because 'devilishly handsome' pulled a small chuckle out of Ville as you wrapped an absentminded arm around his waist and hooked one of your fingers in his belt loop.

You continued to talk to Kari for quite a while (although you loved Ville's dad, Ville was right in saying that he really knew how to talk your ear off) until he eventually shooed you out of the store so that he could be with customers and so that you two could 'go spend some time outside'. Which, much to Ville's relief, meant that you could finally go home.

"Well? Did you survive your horrible day?" You asked with dramatically-feigned sympathy, swinging both of your arms back and forth where you were holding his hand between the two of you as you walked. Ville shot you a look, squeezing your hand softly.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm having fun." And he sounded genuine, too. You let out a sigh, half of exasperation and half of disbelief, as you looked back at him. How in the world could someone even try to enjoy themselves when they did as much complaining as he did?

"You are so ridiculous. People probably think I'm torturing you." Or maybe that you were being tortured, considering how intimidating Ville's frowning could be. It didn't much affect you anymore unless he was really mad, but other people didn't have to deal with him whining in dressing rooms, so you had the upper hand. "If you're having such a good time, does that mean we can do more stuff?"

"No." See? Exactly what you thought. He yanked you by your hand until you were close enough for him to wrap his arm around your waist, holding you close so that you had no choice but to be stuck in his grasp. "You've been banned for the day."

"You know, I would get a lot more done if you weren't such a downer all the time." You huffed, leaning against his shoulder despite your words and grinning despite your best intentions as his thumb rubbed over your hip. He rolled his eyes, scoffing it off.

"You still love me even though I am." He said, sounding sure of himself as he led you along quickly like he was afraid that if you were able to read any shop names, you would've diverted off the path to home. You chuckled.

"Yeah. Sure." Your voice was barely a mumble, but of course he still heard you, and then he was squeezing your hip a lot tighter as he looked over at you with an eyebrow raised and a challenging look on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Would you like to explain to me how I'm wrong?" He was, as always, completely straight-faced as he spoke, but you could see the amusement playing in his eyes, and you couldn't bite back your grin because you knew you were lying out of your ass by insinuating that you didn't love him despite his grouchy tendencies. You let out an overdramatic groan, squirming in his grasp.

"Fine! No!" You complained, laughing through your attempted groan as you tried and failed to get out of his grip and instead just ended up almost stumbling on the sidewalk. "I still love you even though you complain about everything and never let me do anything fun."

"Hey. I'm fun, and I let you do me all the time." He refuted, a hint of a grin cracking on his lips when you reached your slightly-cold fingers up to shove them into the crook of his neck.

"You keep telling yourself that, baby."

—

When you finally made it back to your shared apartment, Ville acted as if he had survived the gauntlet and had made it to safety in the way he immediately dropped facedown onto the couch. You snickered as you shut the door behind you, coming after him slower and leaning over the back of the couch to rub a hand up his back.

"My poor baby. Are you gonna survive?" You cooed, smiling when he hummed softly at the feeling of your nails scratching his back. When you didn't get a response in return, you decided you were going to have to force one out of him. So, while he was off his game and not looking at you, you rolled over the back of the couch and landed square on top of him. "Hey! I asked you a question!"

"Jesus fuck!" He groaned at the feeling of your sudden weight crushing him down into the couch, your laughing almost overpowering the sound as you struggled to pin him down so that he couldn't wrestle out from underneath you. "Get off!"

"Make me!" You cried, struggling against him as he tried to flip you over so that he had the upper hand. You used your knee to hold him down as you startled to tickle him, working your fingers under his shirt to tickle his sides where you knew he was the most sensitive. He let out a sound that was between a laugh and a gasp at the feeling, his face making an appearance out of the couch as he babbled for you to cease your assault.

"Alright! I'll say sorry or something! Stop fucking tickling me!" He cried out his surrender when he finally got a hand out against your chest to push you away, his voice barely audible over your breathless laughter. You sat straddling his hip where he was still lying down sideways, grabbing his wrist with both hands and holding his arm just in case he attempted to try anything on you while you still had the upper hand.

"Alright. Let's hear it, then." You goaded, motioning for him to continue. When his face screwed up in confusion, you raised your eyebrows. "I wanna hear your sorry or I'm going to keep tickling, so it better be good."

"Sorry you're a psycho." Of course, Ville could never just simply admit his faults and beg for forgiveness like any good boyfriend should, and all you could do was tsk in amused (but not surprised) discontent before you stuck your fingers under his shirt to tickle him again.

"What was that, honey? It's a little hard to hear you when I've got your ass pinned." You sang, catching just a glimpse of his fiery, eyeliner-accentuated glare as he struggled between laughing and trying to get out from underneath you. He failed the latter at the hands of the former, however, and all he did was continue to subject himself to your torture before he finally tapped out against your leg.

"Okay! Okay! I'll say it for real." He groaned, his voice breathless as he finally got ahold of your wrist before ripping your hand out from under his tattered shirt. You just beamed down at him, allowing him to keep his hold on your wrist because it was the closest thing you were going to get to him actually holding your hand.

"Make it good or I'll tickle you until you cry." You threatened sweetly, lifting his hand where it was still gripped tightly around your wrist to press a kiss to the top of it. He scoffed out a laugh at that, turning as best he could with your weight still on his hip so that he could look at you before he sighed.

"I'm sorry I'm a dick and that I make you deal with me all the time." He caved, not able to keep a grin from spreading to his lips when you caught him trying to worm a hand underneath you so that he could shove you off. When you gave him an expectant look, his grin widened. "...and I also love you dearly and will do whatever you want."

"Aww, that was such a terrible apology. Thank you." You teased, finally lifting off of him just enough to let him roll onto his back so that he wasn't pinned before you laid right back down on top of him and gave him a soft kiss. "Are you really going to do whatever I want?"

"No. I'm going to do what's good for you." He then shifted you so that you were trapped between his body and the couch, his arms wrapping tightly around you and completely caging you in where there was zero room for you to move. You sighed, accepting your fate and sliding one arm out to rest over his side just underneath his shirt.

"Yeah? And what's good for me?" You asked, feigning interest as you used his shoulder to muffle your laughing whilst trying to hold up your unimpressed front. Your stomach was starting to hurt from so much laughing, and it's not like he was doing anything to go easy on you. He let out a hum, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as your nails scratched gently at his back.

"A nap." Who could've possibly guessed that he was going to say that. Suspicious that a nap was best for you considering he'd been whining about wanting to take one all day. You leaned into him as he kissed softly at your cheek, knowing there was no way you were getting out of a nap now but intending on fighting him on it just for your own entertainment.

"I'm not tired. You want to take a nap." You rephrased, rubbing your foot against his and then snickering when he tried to shove said foot away from him. His apology for being a dick had clearly just been an easy out from being tickled, because here he was right back at it again.

"Shh. Just go to sleep." He muttered, clearly not listening to what you were saying as he yawned and stretched out further with his arms still around you and his legs half over yours. There wasn't a lot of room for the both of you on the couch, but he was clearly taking up every inch he could get. "I love you."

"I love you too." You hummed, rolling your eyes at his clingy behavior before just getting comfortable underneath his weight and reasoning that a nap really didn't sound too terrible anyway. "When you get up, I'm gonna make you do a movie night with me."

"Mhm. Whatever you want, my love."

[tildeathiwillwrite]

The Trapped Tower

Whumptober Day 3. SET UP FOR FAILURE | Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

Whumptober Prompts List | Masterpost

Bad Things Happen Bingo: Hurts to Breathe

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 600

Tag List: @badthingshappenbingo @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion

@scaewolf @the-ellia-west

CW: heist, trap, collapsing building, unconsciousness, pain, broken bones, trouble breathing, broken ribs, crushed, healing magic, immortal whump

A/N: The Immortal Thief returns in a heist gone wrong!

----------

I should’ve known that the whole thing was a trap. The entire job had felt too easy from the moment I received the job about a vault of wealth hidden away in a secret tower abandoned long ago.

My employer only wanted one thing from the vault, a magic ring whose properties he refused to share, wisely so. Anything else was mine for the choosing, but I was especially curious about a rumored pair of glasses that allowed the wearer to see through illusions. They had about as much chance of being in that vault as any other vault. But my employer’s information hinted at a pair that matched the description.

With those glasses, I could break into even the most powerful wizard’s tower and steal their valuable magical possessions. The goddess would surely be pleased with offerings like that.

Unfortunately, as the tower shakes violently around me after entering said hidden vault, I realize that I have been set up for failure.

Running would do me no good, whatever magic had trapped this place had waited until I reached the top before activating. I try anyway, turning away from the vault filled with enough gold and priceless objects to buy an entire kingdom and sprinting down the spiral staircase.

Cracks form in the tower walls and spiderweb across the surface of the stairs, ancient stone breaking away in chunks as I run, ignoring how my legs ache and breathing becomes difficult.

Pain lances through my side only a few steps from the bottom, and without warning, the entire staircase crumbles, sending me to the ground on a bed of broken stone. And still, I try to make it to the door, only a few meters away, crawling as quickly as I could even as stone rained around me, even as the shattered pieces cut at my hands and knees as I tried to regain my footing before—

*****

Pain floods through me as I regain consciousness, as the goddess’ blessing forces me to wake and feel every second of agony as my body defies the hundreds of tons of rock, shifting broken bones back into place, knitting flesh and sinew back together as if the injuries never occurred. I can’t even scream, my lungs unable to draw air from the sheer amount of weight pressing upon them.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

My ribs forcing themselves back into place. Forming their protective cage around my heart and lungs.

I inhale shakily, ignoring how I shouldn’t be able to breathe with so much rock on top of me. The goddess’ blessing tended to defy how the world worked. It made sense, but I wished it wasn’t… so… painful….

Every breath in is full of dust, the air cutting and stinging my throat and lungs. I cough and choke on it, but as the blessing finishes putting my broken body together, my chest begins to ache again. Whether it be the lack of air or the weight pressing it down, I do not know.

But I do know I will stay here for a very long time. Dying from thirst, waking up, and dying again. 

Until the stone erodes from the wind or rain, or someone decides to build something in this spot and clears the stone away.

Or I will stay here until the end of time. When the world is destroyed and made new. Perhaps I will be here even beyond that.

My next breath out is a prayer.

[holdmytesseract]

Baby Fever Loki & "You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold,

You're daddy's little girl to have and hold.

A precious gem is what you are,

You're mommy's bright and shining star." (Al Martino - Daddy's Little Girl)

a/n: Thanks for the request, friend! I adored this so much, omg! I loved writing for this song! 🥺🥰❤ I hope you like it! 🥺

Warnings: None, this is so, so fluffy

Word Count: 712

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @acefeather2002 @lulubelle814 @vbecker10 @theaudacitytowrite @lady-rose-moon @fictive-sl0th @aagn360 @mostclevermiss @linaax @peaches1958 @simping-for-marvel @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @eleniblue @loki-laufeyson-1054 @multifandom-worlds

Lyric-Drabble-Mania Masterlist

Based on this song:

Sing Me to Sleep

If anyone would've asked Loki in the early days of being an 'Avenger', whether he would prefer to go back to Asgard or stay at the compound, the answer to this question would've been as clear as the day... Going back to Asgard. Nowadays, the God would choose this compound above everything. Not just because you, his wife, were there, no... Since five months and four days, he didn't just come back home to his wife, but also to his baby girl; his own flesh and blood.

It was one of these days, where you and Loki had to choose which one of you should go on a small mission with Nat and Clint. It was a question which needed not much time to get answered. Loki loved to be at home on father duty and you enjoyed to have a small break from time to time. Long story short, you went out on that mission and Loki stayed with Ella.

Being a father was never something on the God's 'bucket list' - until he met little Eisa. Crazy how things could change. Meanwhile, he wouldn't trade being a father for anything in this world - and not even in the nine realms. Nothing could compare to this. Loki looked down, smiling. Nothing could compare to this precious, little creature sleeping tightly on his bare chest right now, with her little legs dangling over each side of his ribcage and tiny hands balled into fist to rest on his muscular pecs. No silver or gold. Not Asgard's throne or any other throne. No tesseract or other infinity stones. Nothing. His heart would never fail to skip a beat, when his eyes landed on Ella; almost aching at how much he loved her. He adjusted the blanket, which covered his legs, half of his upper body and Ella, of course.

It had been a long night for the father-daughter team. Ella was restless, didn't sleep very much, cried a lot and kept Loki on his feet as well. Therefore, it was no wonder that merely after the sun had risen and Ella had her breakfast, that Loki was laying down with her again, hoping for the both of them to get some more sleep. It wasn't rare that the little girl didn't sleep well in the first night when you were gone on a mission for a few days. Loki's guess was that she simply just missed you. Ella felt when you were around - and not around, of course. Believe it or not, but drinking from a bottle at night was something entirely different, than drinking from mama's breast - that was at least how Loki believed Ella thought.

A small whimper, coming undoubtedly out of Ella's tiny, pouty lips pulled Loki out of his thoughts. Within seconds, all his attention had shifted to his baby daughter. "Hey, princess... You already awake again, huh?" Another soft whine. "What's wrong, sweet girl?" The God adjusted her position slightly, tried to make it even more comfortable for her. "You can't tell me you are not tired. You've been awake almost the whole night. You have to get some sleep, sweetheart," he cooed. His thumb started to trace soothing circles in her onesie clad back, while his other hand brushed through her tiny raven curls, trying to lull her back to sleep. Unfortunately, it didn't really help, so Loki decided to draw the Joker card... Singing. "Do you want daddy to sing for you, princess?" And again, another whine. "I take that as a yes." Loki said, quickly pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Alright, let me think... Oh, I think I've got an idea. Your mama showed me this song." The God tried to remember the lyrics, before he cleared his throat and started to sing. "You're the end of the rainbow, my pot of gold. You're daddy's little girl to have and hold. A precious gem is what you are, you're mommy's bright and shining star." Like so often, the singing seemed to do the trick. Ella's whines and whimpers stopped, got replaced by calm and steady breathing. She had fallen back asleep. An amused, quiet chuckle left Loki's lips. "You just love hearing daddy sing for you, don't you, my precious gem."

[whumpsmith-participates]

AI-less Whumptober 2024

Day 22 - Forced to watch, "Do not look away."

Tags/CW: child abuse, werewolves, team whump, lady whump (light), open ending

Being in charge is never easy.

You have to make tough decisions for the good of everyone you're responsible for. You want to protect the most vulnerable of the group, even if that is at the expense of your own life.

Which was exactly the position Evan (Frostbringer) and Cassie (Kinetica) found themselves in when their most vulnerable team member's abusive extended family showed up to haunt him.

Evan had gotten used to the howling. Having a lycanthrope as one of your sidekicks will do that to you. The distant howling from the wilderness beyond the city borders didn't bother him too much. Those could either be actual wolves or a pack of lycanthropes out hunting.

Harvey could usually tell who was howling, either ignoring them if he didn't recognise them, or heading out to howl back in response, before coming back in and telling everyone who would listen about which pack was near and how he knew them.

Working closely alongside a lycanthrope, also taught Evan a lot about different kinds of howls. He learned to tell Harvey's howling apart from any others, and was even beginning to learn whether he was calling out for him, or just responding to something Evan couldn't even hear.

Cassie was even better at it. Having been classmates with Harvey for longer than they had been sidekicks together. Not to mention the fact that she had been the team leader for longer than that Evan had been their mentor. She knew exactly what each sound, pose and facial expression meant, the baggage the boy carried, despite appearing so carefree and innocent on the surface.

Cassie had seen, firsthand, the damage that unethical experiments and the treatment of supers by secret organisations had done to Harvey. She knew why Harvey preferred to live life as a wolf when his emotions got too complicated, and she knew when to let him be, and when to encourage him to change back into his human form and try to participate with the rest of the group.

Evan...wasn't entirely there yet, but he was trying his best. He kept in contact with the boy's mother, and took mental notes whenever Cassie explained some of Harvey's behaviour. He indulged the boy when he needed it, but he also knew when to tell him to knock it off and face life.

All in all, Evan and Cassie felt like they were doing a pretty good job. Harvey was thriving, and eager to help out — especially when his expertise was needed. He loved working closely alongside the police, using his heightened sense of smell to sniff out missing people, or even dangerous perpetrators. Or, he used his innate knowledge of nature to identify mysterious incidents as something supernatural, or simply wildlife shenanigans.

They had been on their way back from one of such cases, where the police was unsure whether a hiker had died from unfortunate circumstances or genuine foul play by his hiking partner. Harvey had sniffed around the scene a bit, before changing back to human shape and confirming that the hiking partner was indeed innocent, and the deceased hiker had indeed just taken a very bad accidental tumble.

The police had offered them a ride back to the city, but Evan declined, deciding to hike back as a reward for Harvey, who loved to frolic alongside the path, running ahead, jumping in puddles, and running back to show them a bug he had picked up.

"I know I shouldn't say it, but it's like having a very vocal dog sometimes with Harvey around," Evan commented after Cassie sent Harvey off to put one of his bugs somewhere safe.

"I know what you mean," Cassie said, "I can't help but to be a little worried about how immature he can be sometimes, though."

"Honestly? It breaks my heart a little," Evan said, "Erica—his mom—explained he's stuck in a childish state because it allows him to ignore the hardships of the real world. It's how he responds to past trauma."

"I-I know," Cassie said, "it breaks my heart too...when he starts talking about aliens I just wanna scoop him up and hug him to bits."

"You should hear his theories on unicorns," Evan said.

"Oh I have," Cassie said, "he covered unicorns for a biology assignment. It was...painful to watch. It got him in trouble with his family, and child protective services got involved...I still feel like I should've known something was up."

Before Evan could think of the right words to encourage her, they could hear a haunting, deep howl, coming from somewhere really close, but both Evan and Cassie could tell that it wasn't Harvey. They exchanged a glance with each other, before sprinting in the direction that Harvey had gone off to.

Fortunately, Harvey seemed unharmed, but he also seemed terrified. His face was as white as a sheet, his eyes wide and teary, and his hands covered his ears as he cowered by a sturdy tree.

"H-Harvey?" Cassie gasped, stepping forward to comfort him, while Evan noticed a rustle in the leaves behind another tree.

Without hesitation, he conjured up an ice wall, just in time to protect Cassie from the large wolf that jumped out from behind the tree, crashing against the ice with a pained yelp.

"Heh, bad doggy," Evan said smugly, before promptly being pounced from the other side.

"Evan!" Cassie shrieked, picking up a large branch from the ground and taking a swing at the second wolf.

The hit didn't do a whole lot of damage, but it did cause the wolf to let go of Evan's arm and turn towards Cassie instead. Growling threateningly while licking Evan's blood off of his snout.

"U-uncle Edrian, no!" Harvey pleaded, causing all kinds of alarm bells going off within Cassie.

She never had the displeasure of meeting any of Harvey's uncles, since they were supposed to be in jail for what they did to Harvey. So why was one—or maybe even two of them here?

"H-Harvey...run," Cassie said.

"B-but—"

"I'll hold them off, you get out of here and call for help. Now! Go!"

With a sob, Harvey scrambled to his feet and sprinted off. The wolf that attacked Evan stopped growling, only so he could howl, probably alerting the rest of their pack that their prey was getting away. Cassie cursed under her breath, not sure how to stop the wolf since the branch didn't seem to do a whole lot. To make matters worse, the first wolf then rounded the corner around the ice wall, blocking her only escape route.

Not that she would've run while Evan was quite clearly badly injured, the blood from the bite wound in his arm beginning to mix with the mud. Yet, despite the pain and blood loss, he still grew an icicle in his good hand, ready to impale either of the two wolves if either of them would dare to attack Cassie as well.

However, it seemed that the wound on his arm was worse than he thought, as his vision was already beginning to blur, and the icicle slipped from his hand and broke. Next thing he knew, Cassie shrieked as she was jumped next. Going for her leg, rather than her arms, biting down in it harshly and beginning to drag her away.

"Evan!!"

Evan could hear the fear in her voice, and it physically hurt that he wasn't able to help her. Instead, he used his last strength to freeze his wounded arm, before passing out from sheer exhaustion...

When Evan regained consciousness, he was...definitely somewhere else. The wall of ice he created was gone, and the forest seemed denser. A large paw, belonging to something heavy, was resting on his back, pinning him to the ground.

Right next to him was Cassie, arms twisted behind her back and held tightly by a man who vaguely looked like an older version of Harvey. The bruises and scratches dotting his skin showed that Cassie hadn't gone down without a fight, and the glare on Cassie's face also showed that she wasn't done fighting yet either.

But she was at a disadvantage now. With Evan injured and only half-conscious, being pinned down by an oversized wolf with really bad breath. Evan nearly gagged, but his discomfort soon disappeared into unimportance when he heard a familiar pained cry.

With great effort, Evan tiredly lifted his head, looking in the same direction as what Cassie was glaring at. Before them, in a clearing, stood another man looking similar to the man holding Cassie. Except this man, was holding Harvey, pinching the back of his neck painfully, and barking at him to shut up when he expressed any sort of pained sound, or hopeless sob.

"I told you to shut up, Harvey!" he barked, cruelly shaking the boy.

"He's only gonna cry harder if you keep doing that, Ephraim," the man holding Cassie pointed out.

"Nobody asked, Emile!"

The wolf pinning Evan down sounded like it was laughing, and Evan vaguely recalled Harvey referring to him as Edrian. Just when Evan was getting the urge to tell him to shut up, Edrian promptly quieted down as a fourth man stepped into the clearing.

He was notably older than the other three, his hair a dark grey rather than blonde, and matted. Cassie noticed how the younger three men averted their gazes, not looking him directly in the eye. Meanwhile Harvey seemed even more terrified than he already was, ceasing his struggles against his uncle's grip as he froze.

"P-please..." he whispered hoarsely, "P-Pawpaw...p-please..."

"So you haven't forgotten about me?" the older man asked, "I was beginning to think you had; letting me rot in jail after I tool you in when nobody else wanted you—"

"LIAR!" Cassie quickly shouted, "Harvey, your grandfather is lying—"

Emile cut her off as he covered her mouth with his hand. Evan wanted nothing more than to knock him off of her, but honestly he needed all his strength to stop himself from passing out again. At least he knew who the older man was now: Harvey's abusive grandfather, Joe Silvetti.

"Don't listen to that human," Joe said condescendingly, "your Pawpaw would never lie to you, Harvey."

"...b-but you did," Harvey whimpered, "m-mom and dad came to rescue me. W-we live in New York now."

"If she wants you so badly, why does she let you roam around with this sad excuse for a human?" Joe asked, gesturing at Evan. "So far away that she can't even protect you herself?"

"B-because...b-because..."

Evan could tell that Harvey was beginning to shut down, overwhelmed by his current fear and bad memories bubbling to the surface. He wanted to give Joe a piece of his mind, but whatever strength he could muster was quite literally squashed as Edrian started putting more weight onto his back, nearly suffocating him and preventing him from speaking up at all.

Cassie tried to pull her head out of Emile's grip, but he just growled at her in warning and refused to let her succeed. Harvey glanced at her and Evan briefly, to which he was immediately rewarded with a harsh smack across his face.

"Don't look at them!" Joe growled, before grabbing Harvey's jaw and forcing him to maintain eye-contact. "Because you're family, I'll give you one last chance to re-join the pack. But we have to punish you for the harm you did. We lost our home, you know? And my other darling grandchildren...Ephraim and his wife lost custody. We don't even know where they are."

"I-I'm sorry..." Harvey whined, "b-but I don't wanna—"

"Heh, the runt thinks he has a choice~" Ephraim said, though he quickly quieted down again as Joe glared at him.

"You know better than to speak out of turn, son," he growled, before looking back at Harvey, "he isn't even correct. You do have a choice, Harvey. You can choose to take your punishment and join us, and we'll let your favourite human live. Or you can decline, and we'll just kill all three of you. Do you understand, Harvey?"

Harvey could only whine quietly in response. Cassie picked up her struggle again, probably trying really hard to cuss out the old man. The trickery wasn't lost on Evan either. He just knew Joe used the singular 'human' as a way to torment Harvey even further after this punishment he had in mind.

Harvey didn't seem to have noticed, though. He was visibly shaking, tears rolling freely down his cheeks as he felt like he absolutely had no choice if he wanted to spare his friends. He resisted the urge to look at them again, choking out a few sobs, before giving the tiniest nod.

"I....I-I'll come back..."

"Good boy, Harvey," Joe praised, letting go of his jaw to pat the boy on his head, "how about we get the unpleasantries over with right away, huh?"

Again, Harvey only managed a whimper in reply, his grandfather grinning sinisterly as he stepped back, while behind him his uncle began to change, biting down in the boy's shoulder as soon as his canines had grown large enough to do plenty of damage.

Harvey let out a sound that was halfway between a yowl and a scream as his uncle maimed him. Cassie shrieked and sobbed into Emile's hand as she was forced to watch Harvey get hurt, while Edrian finally changed back into his human form, his knee pressing even more painfully on Evan's back than his paw, and his hand gripping painfully on his hair as he forced him to lift his head up.

"Don't look away~" he whispered gleefully, "Do you really think father will let either of the humans live, Emile?"

"...hush," Emile just said, seeming to be the least sadistic out of the three, even allowing Cassie to squeeze her eyes shut as the scene before them grew more and more horrific.

Evan couldn't look away. Not just because Edrian was forcing him, but because he felt it wouldn't be fair on Harvey to look away. Even when it made his stomach turn around as he watched how the two grown werewolves mercilessly attacked the younger, smaller werewolf.

Harvey didn't seem to be making any attempt at defending himself, other than to turn into his wolf form so he would be less fragile as his uncle and grandfather ruthlessly bit and clawed into his skin.

Evan wanted to yell at them to stop, but his vision was beginning to swim. The three wolves slowly blurring into one shapeless mass of teeth and claws, growling and yelping and yowling.

"H....Har....vey....."

He wanted to tell him how sorry he was. He wanted to apologise for failing to protect him. But he wasn't sure he even managed to say anything as he slowly passed out again...

@ailesswhumptober

Evan (Frosty) belongs to @illustriousshadow Cassie (Kinetica) belongs to @dr-abitat-blog

Masterlist Main account

Is this the end for the three of them? Do they manage to fight their way out? Or are they rescued last-minute? Anything is possible!

[amewinterswriting]

So, I've been playing the remaster of Baten Kaitos lately and for a JRPG of it's time (2003, originally) I'm actually quite amazed by how the narrative subtext frames disability. Major spoilers after the read more, and I will explain everything so you should understand even if you know nothing about the game.

In the world of Baten Kaitos, islands are kept aloft in the sky and the people live on them because of a disaster that poisoned the earth. Most of these people have wings on their back that they can make appear and disappear at will. They are referred to as 'Wings of the Heart' and their appearance is unique to each person, symbolizing their hopes and dreams and personalities. The people of the Empire do not have wings (? or perhaps choose not to use them, according to the prequel) but compensate with mechanical 'winglets'. It's also worth mentioning that the Empire is a major antagonistic force for about half the game, so even though there are friendly characters who come from the Empire, the association of no natural wings is predominantly 'evil'.

The protagonist only has one natural wing, and a prosthetic wing to compensate. It is shown that he has faced prejudice because of this - people treating him with suspicion and hatred because if his wings are deformed, it follows that his 'heart'/soul must be deformed as well.

In fact, this is a major motivation for him deceiving the rest of the party and the player themselves, aligning himself with the evil god we were trying to prevent from being resurrected the whole game. His 'payment' is a second, natural wing to match his existing one.

The plot then follows a secondary protagonist who eventually manages to confront him with a magical artifact that disrupts the evil god's power for long enough that he can choose a different path. And he does so, physically ripping off the wing he was 'gifted' and returning to the good guys and using his prosthetic (which the second protagonist had kept safe for him in the hope that he would one day rejoin them and he might need it).

While I have a lot of criticism for some elements of that plot (the one-winged protagonist should definitely have had more of a 'redemption' arc after deceiving the whole party and the player in a way that nearly destroys the entire world, but five minutes after he's rejoined the party it is almost as if it never happened), it is interesting that a game of this age does address the fantasy of 'what if I could just be magically fixed' and reject it. It actively frames the use of the prosthetic (something crafted for him with love and care from his family, later protected and cared for by the party in the hope that he'd come back to them) as something positive and better than a magical cure for him.

It's definitely not a perfect story (I would have loved to see some kind of connection between the party members - even at the end of the game, it does feel a lot like a group of strangers just happened to be going the same way and tagged along with each other), and I can't bring myself to decide whether the 'prosthetic' plotline is helped or hindered by the idea the the prosthetic is not a physical inconvenience in any way (never seems to need maintenance and works just as well as a natural wing, even adjusting as the protagonist grows) and only a social one (characters comment on it, some in negative ways and he admits he's faced that kind of prejudice his whole life). On the one hand, it's nice that he only actually faces any problems because of other people - it's a fantasy story, why shouldn't his inventor grandfather be able to make the perfect prosthetic for him? On the other hand, not having any physical ramifications (that the player is aware of) really does make his flip flop to the darkside and back for an hour seem a little cheap. Like, you've been bullied a bit, that sucks, it's still not worth screwing everyone else over, including all the people who have actively fought beside you to prevent the very thing you're doing?

But overall, the handling of his disability and the fact that the game doesn't just hand him a magical 'cure' as his happy ending? That feels pretty good to me.

[practically-an-x-man]

Pit of Vipers (Nikoletta x Abner)

Summary: While in Belle Reve, Nikoletta realizes that a fight broke out the night before - and Abner didn't even try to fight back

Tags: pre-relationship, angst, violence, depictions of injuries, brief references to suicide

Word Count: 3.1k

____

“Adrian.”

She appeared out of the shadows and slid onto the bench beside him, and Adrian just about jumped out of his skin. 

“Jesus Christ- don’t do that!” he blurted, glaring at her from behind his glasses, “Do you know how close I get to punching you in the face when you do that? It’s a reflex.”

“But you never have.” Nikoletta pointed out, giving him a slanted grin.

“Yeah, ‘cause I stop myself every time. Those aren’t exactly the knuckle tattoos I’d want,” Adrian said, wringing his hands together as he imagined it. Nikoletta scoffed. He talked a lot of big game, she thought, but she’d only ever seen him fight when it was premeditated. He didn’t strike a single blow without considering it first. It was part of why she chose him as a confidant. He wasn’t reckless like the others were. 

“So… what sends you popping up over my shoulder like my sleep paralysis demon this time?” he asked, seemingly recovered from his bout of shock, and shot her a broad grin. Someone else probably would have found it charming. Nikoletta just pressed her lips together. 

“Someone’s missing.” she said, dark eyes scanning the cafeteria around her, “One of the newbies.”

“Hm. Yeah. The skinny one, right? With the-” Adrian guessed, gesturing vaguely at his own neck, “The one who always looks like he’s sad he can’t hang himself from the bars of his cell like the guy in Goonies?”

“He doesn’t-” Nikoletta started, but cut herself off with a huff, “The guy from Goonies didn't actually hang himself. But… right. Him.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s in medical,” Adrian pressed on, his voice just as light and conversational as it had been in the moments before, “Couple’a guys jumped him late last night. Didn’t see who, but they got some good hits in before the guards got there. Looked pretty bad.”

“Bastards.” Nikoletta growled, “They know the rules. He wasn’t marked.”

“Maybe they thought nobody would care.” he guessed, casually picking through his French fries without a care in the world. Sometimes he scared her. “I mean, the guy doesn’t even talk, why’s he even worth protecting?”

“It’s not about being worth protecting,” she said, “Why do you pay your insurance premium if you never get sick?”

“Ah, I never had insurance. Even the cheap ones denied me. I get in too many fights.”

“But you know how insurance works, don’t you?”

“Sort of.” Adrian said with a one-sided shrug. Nikoletta rolled her eyes. 

“Good enough.” she decided, “What I’m saying is… whether he’s ‘worth it’ or not, everyone gets my protection, whether they need it or not, unless they decide to stir up trouble. And he hasn’t stirred up any trouble. They shouldn’t have gone after him.”

This was far from the first time something like this had happened. Even with her system in place, there was no way to control every stroke of violence in Belle Reve. People got… pent-up after a while. Marking the unruly prisoners kept things peaceful in more ways than one - removing some violence from the pool entirely, and giving the others a chance to release their frustrations - but it wasn’t a perfect solution. She doubted there was any perfect solution to be found. 

And it was always the quiet ones who seemed to slip through the cracks.

“I need to find out who did this,” Nikoletta said, standing up from her seat in one decisive motion. Adrian twisted around to look at her, giving her a strange look.

“Y’know, if it were up to me, I’d just mark him now. Just to get it over with. His blood’s already in the water. I’d be willing to bet someone’s gonna rip him apart eventually. Might be better just to let it happen, save yourself a bigger fight. I mean… you’ve seen him, Nikki, the guy’s a walking target.”

This was the side of him that Nikoletta had to keep on a very short leash. Underneath his lighthearted and even charming exterior was the same thirst for violence as anyone else in Belle Reve, and she knew that. And as much as she liked having Adrian as her right hand man, she had to be careful about that ruthless streak of his. She had the sense that if it was a matter of his safety, even his escape from Belle Reve, he’d would break anybody’s neck without hesitation. Even hers. He was only loyal to her because she set her terms clearly and followed them.

In a way, that was more comforting. Loyalty based on emotion always felt… shaky. At least here, she didn't have to worry about some social faux pas meaning the difference between ally or enemy. She didn't need an emotional bond with Adrian. Really, she wasn't sure he formed emotional bonds with anyone. But as long as she kept her rules transparent, consistent, she could trust that he had her back.

Even when his ruthless side showed its face.

“No.” she replied with a shake of her head, “He hasn't done anything to deserve being marked.”

“C’mon, Nikki. I know you like him, but-”

“It’s not a matter of liking him. It's a matter of principle.” she huffed, “If I mark him without warning, people are going to start to wonder if they’re next. That’s just the fast track to me losing what little control I’ve managed to scrape together in here- and if I go down, you’re coming with me. And it’s a Band-Aid over a bullet wound. The ones who attacked him are just going to find another target if he’s gone. It doesn’t solve anything.”

She took a step back, comforted by the brush of shadows against her skin. There she paused, just for a moment, and met Adrian’s eyes. 

“And I don’t like him. He’s just another prisoner.”

“I dunno, you didn’t get this mad about the last guy who got beat up.”

“You were the last guy who got beat up.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Nikoletta rolled her eyes and fell into the shadows. 

She reemerged from a pool of darkness in the corner of the medbay, suddenly enough that a nurse in the hall flinched at the sight of her. Most of the staff had grown used to Nikoletta’s habit of slipping between rooms, but that didn’t make it any less startling to see her suddenly appear in a once-empty room like some kind of apparition.

It didn’t take long for her to find Abner. He was in the bay closest to the wall, far away from anyone or anything else. Ever since he’d arrived, she’d gotten the sense that the staff was a little afraid of him. She didn’t understand it - aside from the power dampener, he was about the most unassuming guy she could have imagined in a place like this. She doubted he even tried to shoo away the rats that sometimes scurried through the halls.

But the staff were afraid of her too. She didn’t usually give it a lot of stock. 

Abner’s eyes were closed, but the faintly pained expression on his face told her he wasn’t asleep. She didn’t blame him. Half his face was swollen in a brutal black eye, and the rest of his skin was equally littered with bruises and dried blood. Nikoletta wondered, briefly, if he’d even fought back. From the nature of the wounds, harsh and dark and from every direction, she guessed that he hadn’t. The power dampener had been removed from his neck, showcasing a dark band of bruising around his throat - like he’d been shoved to the ground and landed hard on the dampener. Nikoletta couldn’t help but wince at the sight. Some of the bruises were almost dark enough to look like her shadows, save for the faintest purple-red tint.

“Who attacked you?”

She must have been moving more quietly than she realized. Abner’s eyes snapped open with a sharp gasp, and he jolted upwards in the bed. A faint light glowed from somewhere near his wrists, but he tamped it down with a grimace just a moment later.

“Nikoletta?”

“Who else?” she replied, planting her hands on her hips and frowning again at the bruises painting his skin. She waved a hand vaguely in his direction, every movement sharp. “Who did this? Who attacked you?”

He opened his mouth to respond, then frowned and shut it again. He shook his head. 

“You won’t tell me.” Nikoletta guessed, clenching her jaw in anger, “Goddammit, Abner, I’m trying to help you! I’m trying to make sure this doesn’t happen again!”

“It won’t fix anything.”

“This isn’t like grade school bullies,” she insisted, “If you tell me who did it, the problem will go away. Permanently. I need to know who did this.”

“So you can kill them?”

“I haven’t killed anyone.” Nikoletta snapped. The words came out too harsh, and she wanted to wince. Abner flinched, but there was something deeper in his eyes. He raised his eyebrows. Nikoletta resisted the urge to scoff. “Listen. All I do is mark the ones who have it coming to them. I don’t sponsor any violence of my own, I just… rescind my protection. Anyone who’s marked has to fend for themself. That’s how it works.”

“But they all die anyway, don’t they?” he asked. His voice had gone soft. It sent a maelstrom of emotion through Nikoletta’s chest. She wanted to be angry - with him for poking holes in all the rules that should have kept him safe, and with his attackers for sparking all this to begin with - but strangely couldn’t find the emotion within herself. Abner’s eyes were tired and sad, the effect only magnified by the fact that one was nearly swollen shut. 

“Yes.” Nikoletta finally hissed, “They die. That’s the nature of Belle Reve. If I didn’t have my system in place, they’d have killed you too.”

“Maybe that’s not so bad…”

If it were up to me, I’d just mark him now. Just to get it over with. 

Nikoletta grimaced as the words echoed in her mind. Adrian wanted her to mark him. Whoever had attacked Abner wanted her to mark him. Hell- it seemed like Abner himself wanted her to mark him, just to rip the Band-Aid off. 

For the slimmest moment, she was tempted. 

But only for that one moment. 

“Stop that. You’re in pain. Death won’t bring you the relief you want.” Nikoletta muttered, “Trust me, I’ve been there myself. The only way to make things better is to fix them yourself. Now tell me who attacked you.” 

“STAR Labs?” he asked instead, apparently ignoring her demands, “Is that what brought you there? Is that why you… you hurt like that?”

“Of course it was fucking STAR Labs.” she said, reaching for the sleeve of her jumpsuit and tugging it up to expose the silvery track marks at her elbows, “You think I had these before STAR Labs? You think I was in prison before STAR Labs? You think I had to cover every fucking inch of my skin before STAR Labs?”

“Why are you angry?”

“Why aren’t you?” she fired back, “Look at yourself. Look at the bruises. It’s going to happen again if you don’t tell me who gave them to you.”

Abner was quiet for a long time. He stared down at his hands with a distant look in his eyes. Nikoletta shifted on her feet. It shouldn’t have been this difficult of a decision to make. It was a choice between safety or pain, and he didn’t have to do anything but give her a name. There wouldn’t even be any guilt in it, she thought. They’d struck the first blow. The Queen of Belle Reve had very particular rules, and those rules had been broken. It was all fair play.

Finally he looked up and met her eyes. Nikoletta lifted her eyebrows, awaiting his response. 

“Will you do me a favor?”

“Hm?” 

“Will you get me a glass of water? Please?” Abner asked, his voice falling back to that near-whisper of his, “The nurses don’t like coming over here. Not when I don’t have the…”

He trailed off but gestured vaguely at his neck. Nikoletta nodded. She still wasn’t sure what power it was that had the nurses so afraid of him - something to do with that odd light when she startled him, she was sure - but it must have been something big. Most things that came from STAR Labs were. 

Nikoletta took a step back and melted into the shadows. She was back a moment later, a half-filled plastic cup clutched in one gloved hand. She held it out, and Abner took the cup with a faint but grateful smile. He sat up and took a sip, grimacing like every motion hurt. Looking at him, she believed it. She hoped the nurses had at least given him some sort of painkiller before they vanished.

“I don’t like killing people.” Abner mumbled after a few long moments of silence. His fingers worried at the edges of the cup. He refused to meet her eyes.

“So you’d rather let yourself get beat to shit like this than tell me who did it? None of the blood is on your hands here, Abner. They attacked someone under my protection, so they deserve to have their own protections stripped away. It’s all just turnabout. Fairness. Really… if you tell me now, they’ll probably be gone before you get out of that bed. Why the fuck are you protecting them?”

“Because it’s still…”

Abner trailed off, shaking his head with a low sigh. 

“I’m sorry, Nik. I can’t.”

Nikoletta scoffed and took a step back from him. She couldn’t believe this - beaten so badly he’d landed in the medbay, covered in blood and bruises, so severe they’d even removed his power dampener, and he still refused to give her a name. Did he really have so much guilt for something he hadn’t even done? How had he managed to take down STAR Labs, with a hyperactive conscience like that?

The sadness in Abner’s eyes only deepened as Nikoletta took another step back. It was hard to look at. She sighed. 

“Do you need anything else? Before I go?”

“Um… no. I don’t think so.” he said, “But if you… if you wanted to come back sometime? Just to talk for a while? This place, it reminds me of the lab. It’s hard to be here.”

She could understand that. Normally she avoided the medbay like the plague for that same reason. She didn’t like her cell much either, but this was… worse. Nikoletta pursed her lips but gave him a singular nod.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Try to think of some things you want to talk about before I get back.”

She took a final step back, returning to the familiar not-quite-comfort of her shadows, and had already begin to slip into that other realm when she heard Abner’s soft voice one more time. 

“Nikoletta. Thank you.”

She was back in the cafeteria before she could even think to respond, but the words rattled around in her mind much longer than they should have. That whole interaction had been… odd. He was an odd man. In a lot of ways. She didn’t quite mind it, but it was certainly different from the interactions she was used to. 

“Any luck?” Adrian’s voice, deceptively chipper, pulled her from her thoughts. Nikoletta shot him a lukewarm look, irritation bubbling just underneath the surface. 

“No. He won’t give them up. For whatever God-forsaken reason.” she said, shaking her head, “Lands himself in a hospital bed but won’t even tell me who put him there.”

“I’m telling you, Nik, you could save yourself a lot of trouble if you just-”

“I’m not marking him. Especially not now. That sets a precedent I don’t want to set.”

“Suit yourself.” he muttered, though he clearly didn’t agree with her decision in the slightest. After a moment he shrugged, tossing it aside like water off a duck’s back. He waved a hand towards the opposite side of the cafeteria. “Well, in that case… I’ve been doing a little recon-”

“I’m assuming that means you walked straight up to their table and dared them to give you the gossip?”

“It was recon. I was very subtle.” Adrian repeated with a huff, “And it sounds like one of the guys that jumped him was that calendar guy, with all the tattoos? Heard one of the cameras got footage of it, just a couple frames. Y’know, it’s probably not a great idea to attack a guy in the middle of the night if you’re one of the four prisoners in here who can be recognized from the back si-”

“Thanks.” she said, cutting him off before he could get into one of his diatribes, “I’ll take care of it.”

____

“Julian.” 

This time, she meant to be startling. The tattooed criminal sat bolt upright in his cot, frantically scanning the shadows for where her voice had come from. Nikoletta took a step forward, allowing herself to be lit by the dull yellow bulbs that shone in from the hallway. The sight of her didn’t ease the fear on his face. 

“I heard you broke my rules.” Nikoletta continued, drawing each word out, “You attacked a prisoner who wasn’t marked. You know what the punishment for that is.”

All lingering dredges of sleep had vanished from his posture, and he looked at her with wary eyes. His fingers were curled tightly into his bedsheet, as if he were debating trying to smother her with it. Surely he had to know he was outmatched here. Surely he had to know that was why she confronted him in the dead of night, blanketed on all sides by her shadows.

“So what? Not like I did anything big, just knocked him around a little. Fuckin’ creep deserved it, too.” he replied, the words so loud and barbed that she could hear cots creaking in the neighboring cells. Tension drew into Nikoletta’s posture, both from the words and the growing audience to them. She took a step closer, aiming to administer her punishment swiftly and potently. With a mark, and with all the gossip that had been swirling over the ordeal, he’d be gone by breakfast. 

But they all die anyway, don’t they?

I don’t like killing people.

Nikoletta froze on the spot, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. It was a matter of principle. Julian broke her rules, she administered punishment, it resolved the conflict that landed Abner in the medical wing and secured Nikoletta’s reputation as a strict but objective ruler. Half a second’s action to repair a host of issues. All it took was one little death. 

But she found herself stepping back. Confusion crested across Julian’s face, in equal share with the same sharp wariness. 

“No more second chances.” Nikoletta warned, darkness dripping off every word, “Do better. This will be the only mercy you’ll get from me.”

And with that, she vanished into the dark.

[reap-the-game]

GNB Giovanna (gnb au)

As I said in the tags of some post or other, Giovanna's GNB take got turned into a whole AU.

(What with her already technically being an AU of Gia in her role as his past life, we're really going down that AU of an AU route out here, but anyway.)

The concept is a post-apocalyptic world, for which we borrowed the 1st and the flood of light, except then made the whole deal a lot less... Supportive of life. We're talking "the portion of the world that wasn't swallowed by light is a wasteland under nightless skies". Humanity is splintered into smaller settlements and groups of survivors, life's hard, everything sucks and the world is beyond hope according to many.

Hashing out the details is still a bit WIP, but it's been established that Giovanna didn't have the happy childhood her pirate version had—which is why she's so, so much worse than Captain Giovanna. Just heart of ice and stone, evil to the core vibes. Will kick a man while they're down, probably was the one to send them on the ground in the first place. Uses her gunblade to behead people if they dared cross her, lovely stuff like that.

And she's the leader of a settlement, meaning she has underlings. She doesn't lack for personal power nor in the department of bodies under her command, and her reputation is ruthless for a very good reason. She has no tolerance for anyone threatening her people or her power, and there's no worm worse than a traitor in her eyes. Combine that with her unapologetic violence, and getting on her bad side often has deadly consequences.

But as fearsome as she is, she's not actually the big bad guy. No, she's just a pawn of Calhoun's, a man counting many settlements under his rule of an iron fist. It was him that gave her the power she has, and only by his grace does she get to keep it—but he has a soft spot for her due to the help she provided him in taking over the settlement she unhappily lived in. Their resistance amounted to nothing thanks to her undermining their efforts from the inside, grateful as she was for the way they made her life a living hell.

In return, Calhoun gave the whole settlement under her command, but she's under no illusion that she isn't under Calhoun's command in turn. Hard to forget that when he's so possessive over her, especially over her sex life. Dude acts as if he owns her, and there's little she can do about it because maintaining Calhoun's favor is the only way to live. Go against him and you can be very sure to not live much longer.

So she's in a good spot in life overall, but then in comes Ren and suddenly nothing is simple anymore. After some twists and turns they fall into quite hopeless love with one another, and she acts on it despite knowing Calhoun won't take it well if he finds out.

But of course he finds out eventually, and as anyone could have expected, he's not particularly pleased she would 'betray' him like that. While Ren gets to live and gets "only" pressed into forced labor, as her punishment Calhoun beats her to death's door, then has her body dumped in the wilds for her to have her corpse eaten by wild beasts.

Not according to plan, she's found by scavengers from another group of survivors, and recognizing her, they decide to save her because even if something clearly went wrong for her, can it really be bad to have someone like her indebted to them?

Whether she'd respect a debt is another matter entirely, but a person sure can hope.

But with the help of these people, she survives. Barely, but does. However, as well as she knew Calhoun wouldn't tolerate her dalliance with Ren, she knows he will finish the job if he learns she's still alive. As such her only option is to lay as low as she can while trying to somehow locate Ren—and plot revenge on Calhoun, knowing her.