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marisolls · 6 months ago

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self-destruction and self-preservation are not the antithesis of each other, come meet me halfway.

haikyuu ﹙ tsukishima kei x reader ﹚

011125. the fear that comes with loving someone will consume him, you won’t allow that, which makes things even harder.

content warnings. part 1 of 2. angst. emotional repression. heavy miscommunication. fear of abandonment. breakdown. setting isn’t defined, just assume they’re 19 or older.

notes. art cred by azeensart on x. i might not include this in my masterlist for how...heavy these themes are. holy shit. i bawled while writing this (period cramps is getting to me)

the fear that runs through tsukishima kei’s heart will either make or break the relationship you both have. him not being able to be open and vulnerable with you not because he thinks its weak, but because he literally cannot overcome that fear.

he knows dating you requires this neck-deep honesty, knows you'd be the first to genuinely reach him in a place of understanding, and would be there for him no matter the circumstances, would have your eyes look at the deepest parts of him and still love just the kei in him. the only ever one.

but there's this unreasonable pressure and obligation he's set on himself to be...more. more than what he is. more than just kei. so he studies hard, plays volleyball and make you proud, gives you his undivided attention, tries to be more than the fear unkowingly playing a factor in what he's trying to do. to make you think he doesn't have one in the first place.

he doesn't want you to think it keeps him up at night, constantly wondering if he'll ever be enough for you. he's so deprived of reassurance but so repulsed and uncomfortable to ask or talk about it, much less show it to you. he's got his own shit going on, and he thinks he operates best in isolation. the last thing he would want from you is for you to worry about him.

no, don't look at him like that. he's too weak under those soft gazes of yours, you deserve more than the kei he is; the unsure and scared and feels too deeply, but too little to allow expressing himself. you deserve more not because you demand from him, but because your love is all-encompassing and unflinching. you give so effortlessly without a shadow of doubt.

you are love. you are everything he’s not.

he tells himself he’s doing this—telling you about his day on the phone but also leaving the parts that matter; like the struggles or how he thinks about you all throughout and just want to admit himself to you the way you do with him. to tell you he’s not normal and constantly yearns for you and feel a little jealous when you talk about other people with him. to tell you he loves you but he kind of hates himself, that he can’t help but settle for a quiet corner of solitude even though the best thing about his day will always be when you invite him to your place and cuddle. he eradicates what his tongue is burning with fervor, he’s doing this—

not to deceive you, but to convince himself he’s worthy of standing beside you. to shield you of what haunts him, what crawls into his skin that make him want to tear his flesh, like parting a pomegranate with sharp nails and deliberately making a mess, yielding to the bite.

he tells himself that he doesn’t want to hurt you. all his wanting, his yearning, can quell itself. but when he does this, it’s all the more likely of being susceptible to vulnerability. all the more hurtful, to both you and him.

and then he fucked up so bad to the point he’s shaking and white-knuckling and nearly in tears—or rather bursting. he really did turn into a mess, losing himself to the fear that you’d leave him. that you are leaving him.

technically it’s his fault. it was your 9th date, or after that. he stayed a bit in your studio apartment by habit. you always make warm dinners. though he was quiet the entire night and refused to talk when you asked. but again, you’re always trying to unravel him, gently wriggling yourself inside, tiptoe your way into holding him. always, always letting him know you’re there. that you’re somewhere there in him, trying to feel him in the best way possible.

you held his hand and casually massaged his fingers, tracing the lines of his palm and not uttering a word but an easy smile curls around your lips and he’s not—he’s not going to ruin this moment. there’s an aching between his ribs, the intimacy of it all twists his insides in an unpleasant way and he feels so ashamed that he only gives himself half-hearted to you. that your patience is all but a fleeting gift, that you’ll eventually lose this touch once you grow sick of him. sick of his selfishness and insecurities.

you asked after a while, “does this hurt?” referring to his recently bandaged middle and ring finger. you looked at him—shit, he finds himself noticing that generally, he can’t even meet your gaze without feeling like he’ll cry.

you just look so beautiful, he’ll pray to a god for you to have all the good things in the world, he wish he could right now, but not like this—when he’s thinking of how to build more distance, more walls; to put him at his twisted concept of being at ease that this is good, this is what you need.

(he doesn’t understand the horrors you’ve faced to have achieved this absolute grace. the way that you’ve learned how to part a pomegranate carefully, still a tad messy but so much better than the last. he doesn’t understand the extent of how you love.)

“what…?” and he doesn’t understand why you sounded genuinely appalled.

he rephrases, “i just don’t want you to get too attached.”

“no.” you dropped your hand, setting a few feet away from him. the expression you’re making unsettles him, looking so hurt and confused, “you said- you said you don’t want me to depend my happiness on you. what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“i said what i said,” he mutters, looking anywhere but at you.

“no, you didn’t. that’s just your cowardly way of avoiding this conversation,” you snap. “why do you always do this? why can’t you just talk to me?”

his gaze flickers toward you, but he doesn’t respond. his silence feels heavier than any words could have been, a chasm opening between you. (and a pomegranate about to spill itself into chaos)

“do you think i’m that fragile?” you ask, voice trembling, teetering between anger and heartbreak. “that i’m just going to crumble if you let me in?”

“it’s not that,” he says, his tone clipped, defensive. “you just wouldn’t get it.”

“oh, here we go,” you scoff, you flail your arms and roll your eyes. “the classic. ‘you wouldn’t get it.’ you act like you’re the only one who’s ever felt scared or unsure or—”

“shut up,” he snaps, voice low but sharp.

it makes you flinch momentarily, but you sink yourself in, sharper than nails, more like teeth.

“no. i won’t. because you’re not being fair to me, kei. do you even realize what you’re saying right now? you’re acting like—like this is my fault. like i’m asking for too much just by loving you!”

“that’s not what i’m saying!” he shouts, his voice cracking.

“then what are you saying?” you yell back, tears starting to sting your eyes. “because all i hear is you trying to push me away. again.”

“i’m protecting you!” he bursts out, his voice raw, almost desperate. “don’t you get that? i’m doing this for you!”

“bullshit,” you fire back, stepping closer. “you’re doing this for yourself, kei. because you’re too scared to be honest with me. because you think it’s easier to shut me out than to let me see you—really see you.”

he could cry any second, but it’s the knee-jerk reaction that always sets in, the things that never helped him but had come to terms with. and he shouldn’t really be like this, but he doesn’t know how to be anything other than what he is.

he sucks a breath, expression hardening, a wave of something defensive and bitter crossing his face. “maybe you shouldn’t depend on me so much, then,” he says coldly, his words cutting and surpassing nails or teeth. it’s the knife.

your shoulders sag, forgetting to breathe in the worst way possible. “wow,” you whisper, voice trembling. “you really think so little of me, don’t you? you think i can’t handle you, or us, or whatever this is. fine then, if that’s how you feel, then maybe i should stop trying.”

(you instantly regret it. because a part of you remains so selfishly unselfish. you want to bleed and heal for him, to make yourself bare because you know you have nothing in your hands. you’ve got nothing but yourself to give. and this is how you love, and it pains you so fucking much that he’s completely rejecting the only thing you have.)

“…i think you should leave.”

his head jerks slightly, caught off guard. “huh?”

“what do you mean huh?” you tremble against the weight of your words, “go. i need to be alone.”

he stares at you, his mouth opening as if to argue, but nothing comes out. his fingers twitch at his sides, unsure of what to do. “you’re serious,” he says finally, his tone flat but laced with disbelief.

“yeah, kei, i’m serious,” you snap, your eyes glistening. “since you clearly don’t want to talk, and you think pushing me away is somehow doing me a favor, then fine. go. you don’t have to ‘protect’ me anymore.”

his brows knit together, and for a moment, his mask falters. “that’s not what i—”

“don’t,” you cut him off, your voice breaking. “don’t try to explain now. i can’t—” you take a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay composed. “i can’t keep fighting to understand you when you won’t even…fight for me. just how cruel of you to ask me not to depend my happiness on you, when you know you’re all i ever want.”

it’s your voice cracking that sets his jaw unbearably taut, his eyes darting to the floor. he wants to say something, but he feels so fucking useless the words could choke itself.

“you think you’re protecting me,” you continue, your voice softer now, but no less painful. “but all you’re doing is making me feel like i’m not enough for you. like i’m some burden you have to keep at arm’s length.”

“that’s not…”

“then what is it, kei?” you ask, desperate, your eyes searching his. “what are you so afraid of? me? us?”

he looks away, his shoulders tense, his hands curling into fists.

“screw it,” you mutter, turning your back. “just go. please.”

the word please is what makes his heart lurch. it’s not angry or demanding. it’s pleading, broken. and it terrifies him.

“wait,” he says, his voice almost a whisper.

you don’t turn around.

“don’t do this,” he says, more firmly now, but there’s a tremor in his voice. “don’t… don’t ask me to leave.”

“why not?” you ask bitterly, “you’ve been keeping me at a distance this whole time anyway. what’s the difference?”

you don’t look back when he says, after another long pause, “…if that’s what you want.”

your heart sinks as you finally watch him turn toward the door. he hesitates, his hand resting on the doorknob, he can’t stop the shaking of it and his fingers feel so cold and the warmth he’s craving now is just pathetic. he waits for you. for you to stop him. for you to reach him like you never fail to do.

but you don’t.

and then he’s gone, the door closing behind him with a quiet click, your ears start ringing and your head has fucked you enough that you want to scream. it feels too painful to stuff it in. you kneel to the floor with your head in your hands, the weight of the argument crashing down on you.

outside, kei leans against the wall, his chest heaving as he stares blankly ahead, the overwhelming urge to go back and fix everything warring with the fear that it’s already too late.

are you going to leave him?

you’re going to leave him.

he can’t figure out how to unfuck all the mess. and he shivers with so much dread, he doesn’t realize he’s weeping under a streetlamp and barely holding himself. he doesn’t even know how to cry properly, but it doesn’t fucking matter anymore because he’s convinced—he’s fucking trying to already swallow the inevitability of you and him falling apart. he deserves this.

the fear that runs through tsukishima kei’s heart can ultimately break yourselves apart. and it does. it’s sort of a heart disease not even death can console the pain.

taglist. @leafington @angeleilee @yoru-exe here you go, angst is good for the soul ,,,,

#tsukishima kei x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu tsukishima #hq!! x reader #hq x you #hq x reader #hq #kei x reader #tsukishima x reader #[✦]. solvia’s #— ⟢ waning gibbous.

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 2 years ago

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Possession

Pairing: Yandere Tom Riddle x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: You try to expose Tom’s dark side to Dumbledore but it doesn’t go well.

WARNINGS: Toxic relationship; Slapping; Threats.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

“Professor, wait!” you breathlessly yell, running through the hallway as you try to catch Dumbledore before he enters his private chambers.

He turns around, his surprised expression quickly being replaced by an understanding one as he notices it’s you. Dumbledore has always kept a close eye on Tom, even more so after finding out that he’s in a relationship with you.

Someone that shares little common interests with him as you’ve always stayed away from all the problems that seem to involve Tom’s close circle of “friends”.

“How can I help you, Miss L/N?” he asks once you’ve reached him.

“Professor, I have something I wish to say. It’s about…” you suddenly trail off, feeling a pair of deadly eyes burning holes in your back.

The whole aura in the long corridor has changed and you can feel it, a darker presence lurking around.

You’ve unwillingly developed this skill as a coping mechanism. Being around him has made you more alert towards everything, especially knowing when he’s arrived.

And he has, you can feel it.

The thought of him catching you talking to Dumbledore, whom he absolutely detests, makes your arms weak and the heavy books that rest on your forearm almost fall, but you grip them harder.

“Miss L/N, you can speak freely. Do not fear anyone, if that’s your concern.” Dumbledore gently speaks as he lowers his voice, his eyes catching Tom at the opposite side of the long corridor as the young boy quickly charges forwards towards the both of you.

You hesitate for a moment, Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes freeze your mind and the incessant sound of the footsteps getting closer doesn’t help.

Conflicted is a weak word to represent how you’re feeling, but time is running out and you have to decide now.

“I-”

“Y/N!” Tom shouts, the booming voice makes you panic, resulting in the heavy books you’re carrying falling to the ground. You panicky kneal, trying to grab the books back and you feel Tom standing behind you, not bothering to help you.

You hurriedly get the books back and stand back as Tom takes a step forward, partially hiding your frame away from Dumbledore with his body but not before he sends a chilling look your way.

“It’s only a small doubt she had regarding our latest Transfiguration’s class, Professor, but I can assure I’ll clear all her doubts.” Tom starts, quickly regaining his calm appearance as he maintains eye contact with Dumbledore. His voice sounds soothing, like he’s telling the truth.

“I apologize for disturbing you for such an insignificant matter, Professor. We’ll be leaving now, have a good evening, sir.” he continues, slightly bowing his head to Dumbledore, who doesn’t look entirely convinced by Tom’s explanation but he relents.

“Good night, Tom. And Miss L/N? Do not hesitate to reach out if further clarifications are needed.” Dumbledore leans to his right, trying to catch a glimpse of your face and you weakly nod, mumbling a small greeting as Tom grabs your hand and pulls you away, leaving Dumbledore there.

His pace is fast, it’s clear that he wants distance between him and Dumbledore and you have to rush to keep up with him. He doesn’t say a word but the way his jaw is clenched, you understand that you’ll pay the price for doing such a risky act.

Tom pulls you into an empty classroom and before you can say a word, he roughly pushes you against a wall.

You gulp in fear, tightening the books against your chest as you gulp in fear. Tom’s eyes pierce through you, his hands on each side of your head.

“You think you can beat me down by going to Dumbledore behind my back? Is that so?” he questions you. Fear boils inside you and you frantically shake your head.

“N-No, Tom. I wasn't-"

“Enough!” he silences you, the back of his hand meeting your cheek. The impact sound resonates throughout the entire room and you press your lips together, trying to keep a pitiful sob in. Tom hates it when you cry.

His hand sneaks towards your throat, pressing it only enough so it doesn’t leave any marks. He inspires a deep breath, cracking his head to the sides before looking back at you.

“There will be consequences to your actions, love. You’re mine. You should know better, that I don’t let anyone take away my possessions, not even Dumbledore."

"Not one will ever save you from me.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere tom riddle #dark tom riddle #yandere tom riddle x reader #dark tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle imagine #imagine tom riddle #tom riddle x female reader #yandere x reader #tom riddle fanfiction #tom riddle #yandere harry potter x reader #yandere scenarios #tw: yandere #tw.dark content

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portraitofalinkonfyre · 9 months ago

Note

hello :D i'm so in love with your writing i actually came up with a request for the first ever time *ever* since i joined like 5 years ago lmao

-reader gets into trouble with the chain for self endangering, reckless behavior, reprimanding/arguing ensues, maybe with reader not valuing themselves all that highly in comparison to the others? preferably with some rather rough lovin' as an escalation, just to get it through reader's thick skull that they're wanted and important

-i'd love to see Time, Warriors or Sky with this, but if you think someone else fits better that's perfectly reasonable too

-feel free to switch up any details you can't really work around (but no degradation please)

Absolutely!! I love this idea so much, so thank you for gracing me with it! I was also really inspired by this ask so it's going to be about 3-4 chapters long <3

The Bluest Eyes

Pairing: Warriors x Reader

Warning(s): A whole lot of smut and a few scenes of Reader suffering from PTSD. Reader is requested to be female.

Notes: Set in the same AU as Burning Love, where Reader is a retired war medic from Warriors' Hyrule. Also, a "night rail" is a type of nightgown :)

Main Masterlist | Fic Masterlist | Next Chapter

"Get down right now!" Hyrule's shout rang through the clearing, unusually annoyed for the typically patient traveler. Warriors lifted his head, blanching when he caught sight of you sitting atop the thick branches of one of the nearby trees, feet swinging down as you yelled back.

"No! Go heal Wind!"

"Wind has a scrape on his arm," the traveler stressed, gesturing to the snoozing hero as the others began to gather under the tree, expressions ranging from concerned to downright shocked. "You've been stabbed, (Y/n)."

"I'm fucking fine," you hissed back as blood dripped onto the ground from the wound in your shoulder, and Warriors was caught between terror at your condition to complete bafflement at how you managed to climb the tree in such a state. "Leave me alone!"

"Not until you let me heal you," Hyrule ground out with a stormy expression, hands twitching as if he intended to make you come down with sheer force of will alone.

"(Y/n)," Time tried in a soft tone, ever the voice of reason. "Denying yourself care will only hurt you further."

"Then I'll be hurting and Wind will be alive," you snarled, snapping your legs up when Wild took a running jump for them. More blood splattered from your shoulder, staining the sleeve of your tunic beyond repair, and Warriors finally noticed the unaltered fear in your expression.

You were afraid, and he had an idea why. Being a medic during the War of Eras, there was no doubt in Warriors' mind that you had seen terrible things–death, disease, perhaps even betrayal--and the way your eyes nervously shifted to study each of them only confirmed his theory. You were trying to sacrifice yourself for them, though he couldn't fathom why; they had more than enough health potions to go around, and Hyrule had hardly even used his magic when tending to Wind.

There was no reason for you to be acting this way, yet he knew exactly what you were. There was a faraway gleam in your eyes, like you were looking at something that didn't exist anymore.

Warrior's stomach churned as he couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since you felt truly safe.

"(Y/n), please..." Legend's voice was uncharacteristically soft, eyes wide with worry, an expression they all shared. "It was only a lizalfos attack, no one else got hurt."

"He did," you spat, pointing to Wind, and Warriors couldn't take it anymore.

"That's it, we're coming up."

You gasped as the captain took a running start, leaping up and just barely latching on to the branch below your feet. "Get down right now, you're going to hurt yourself!"

"We're just trying to help you," Sky took a less physical approach, moving to stand beneath the branch with a look of barely disguised regret.

"I'm fine," you repeated in a weak voice, and Warriors knew he had to act fast.

"You're bleeding out," he grunted as he heaved himself over the branch, ignoring the blood dripping down onto his scarf; it wasn't like he couldn't wash it later.

"It's just blood," you said, and he could have laughed at how disappointed you looked in yourself when the words sunk in.

"Just blood?" Warriors pulled himself onto the branch, settling next to you, hand reaching around your waist to stabilize your swaying form. Your hands valiantly tried to bat him away, but you were far too weak to do any real damage.

"Please," his heart ached at the beginning of tears forming in the corner of your eyes. "Get down."

"Not without you," he countered quietly.

"You're hurt," you whimpered, and it was as if all the air had been sucked from the space. Your gaze was worryingly unfocused as you turned your head to look at him, and Warriors could only imagine what you were seeing. "I can't heal you."

"I'm not hurt," he replied gently, not wanting to scare you even more than you already were. "It's all yours."

"Oh," you blinked slowly, as if you were struggling to comprehend his very words. "I'm sorry."

There was a knot in Warriors' throat. He tried to gulp it down, but it bounced back with more force than he expected. "Don't be sorry, just let Hyrule heal you."

Your gaze flicked slowly to the heroes waiting below, a protective glint in your slowly-focusing eyes. "...What about them?"

"They'll be okay," Warriors promised, and you nodded weakly, head lolling to the right to rest against his shoulder, pressing your wound to his chest with nary a hiss.

"Okay," you whispered in the most broken tone he had heard from you.

Warriors was sure he hadn't moved quicker in his life, carefully gathering your limp form in his arms and dropping back to solid ground. He remained silent as Hyrule dashed over, hands already glowing with green magic.

"Lay her down," the traveler said in a wavering voice, and Warriors did as instructed, placing you on the ground as if one wrong move would shatter you, and it was then that he truly noticed the ashy pallor your face had taken on, eyes squeezed shut as Hyrule worked his magic above you.

Slowly but surely, the exposed wound on your shoulder closed, your skin knitting together under the traveler's hands, leaving behind a wide rip in the blood-soaked sleeve of your tunic. The fitful expression on your face softened some, but he could still see the slight frown tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Warriors' hand found your uninjured shoulder, shaking it softly as Wild plopped down beside you, face twisted with worry. "How are you feeling?"

There was no response, and his heart could have damn near stopped when he registered the tell-tale softness your breathing had taken on. Nearly shoving Hyrule aside, he pressed two fingers to the side of your neck, fearing the worst.

"Is she dead?!" Four exclaimed in absolute, unadulterated horror, and the others began to murmur in fear. Warriors' pressed harder, motions unusually desperate as he fought to find a pulse. No, his mind whispered, a cacophony of dread as his fearful thoughts soared, cursing himself for not acting sooner. He shouldn't have waited, and now you were paying the price for his stupidity--

The very notion of time seemed to skid to a standstill when you wheezed suddenly, throat bobbing harshly against his prodding fingers.

"She's alive!" Hyrule exclaimed in palpable relief, and the tension in the air began to dissipate. Warriors took several breaths to calm his racing heartbeat, removing his hand from your neck as you coughed, turning your head to the side, groaning softly. "Fuck," you said, and the captain was torn between crying and laughing.

"Are you alright?" Sky was quick to help you into a sitting position. You winced, rubbing at your healed shoulder with your free hand.

"Yeah," you mumbled, looking around with mounting apprehension. "...Where's Wind?"

"Here!" called the sailor, having just woken up from his nap, and you gave him an exhausted half-grin.

"Good," you tried to stand, only to be pushed down by Hyrule.

"Not a chance, (Y/n)," the traveler chided, obviously still shaken from your initial refusal of help. "You're staying right there."

"I'm okay--"

"No," Hyrule said in a tone that brokered no argument. "You are– you are going to sit there and get better, or Hylia help me I will tie you down until you do."

You opened your mouth to respond, but Warriors noted how quickly you reconsidered the idea when Hyrule fixed you with a dark glare, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that screamed 'try me and die'.

"...Fine," you relented, slumping backward, and the captain had a distinct urge to ruffle your hair. Your cheeks pinked and you all but hissed: "Stop that."

"Nope," said Warriors, laughing softly when you fixed him with one of your practiced stares, though even a fool could see that there was no heat whatsoever in your gaze. He rose to his feet, deftly dusting the tops of his pants. "Time, do you–"

"Um, guys?" Wind's voice interrupted, filled with apprehension. Warriors turned to face the sailor... only to blanch.

A portal had opened in the center of the clearing--pure white mixed with swirling hints of gold. The air around it crackled softly, charged with an explicably dangerous energy that had the hair on the back of his neck standing on end.

"Is that...?" You trailed off, letting the situation speak for itself.

"Time," Warriors drew his sword, stalking over to put himself between you and the portal. "Do we have another–"

"No," the oldest hero cut him off, tone unusually icy. "This isn't anything I recognize."

"We'll have to go through it, then," said Wild, already advancing forward. Warriors gazed back at Twilight and Legend, who both nodded, unsheathing their swords while the captain re-sheathed his, bending over to gather you in his arms.

"I can walk," you half snapped, though you made no real move to prove that point.

"No, you can't," Warriors responded, turning to face the portal as Time and Twilight entered it, disappearing in a flash of light. The others followed swiftly, and he could only hope they'd be able to survive what awaited them on the other side.

You recognized the castle gates as soon as you saw them.

You had long since wrapped your arms around Warriors' neck, holding on for dear life despite the fact that you knew he wouldn't drop you, deftly studying the bustling streets as the group stepped into Castle Town.

It was undoubtedly your Hyrule, and there was a certain comfort in being home again. You remained silent as the others chatted, half because you were nearly asleep and half because you couldn't fathom what to say to any of them at this point. Embarrassment coursed through you as you recalled their terrified expressions when you scaled the tree, too lost in your thoughts to realize what was going on.

You liked to think you kept decent control of your emotions, but now...

"Hey," you felt the words rumbling from Warriors' chest before you heard them. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing," you said quickly. Perhaps too quickly, from the way he cocked an eyebrow down at you in response. "I'm fine."

"You keep saying that," the hero paused, then continued in a far quieter tone. "But I don't think I believe you anymore."

"Maybe because it's none of your business," you hissed... and immediately regretted it. "I'm sorry, I just–"

"I understand," said Warriors. The hand on your ribcage tightened as he hefted you tighter against him. "I really do."

You didn't doubt that, you really didn't, but a thick ball formed in your throat and you didn't trust yourself not to start bawling in the middle of the street. With a shaky huff, you tucked your head against the broad expanse of Warriors' chest, letting familiar darkness consume you.

You couldn't sleep.

The bedroom Queen Zelda had so graciously gifted you was too cold, yet your pillow felt hot enough to burn a hole through metal. You flipped onto your stomach, gripping the pillow as you buried your face into it. Every time you closed your eyes, memories of the War would pop into your mind's eye like flies, only dropping when you awoke, panting like you had run a lap around the castle itself.

"Fuck..." you whispered to the empty room. Warriors had passed you off to Twilight and Hyrule as soon as his boots crossed the foyer, declaring that he had a meeting with Zelda, only returning with a grim expression and ten keys. The Queen had heard reports of a black lizalfos roaming the land, but they were largely unreliable, leaving everyone with no choice but to stay in the castle for the night.

While you were grateful for the unexpected privacy, there was something to be said about sleeping in the open with what you now considered to be some of your closest friends. The room, decked out in purple tapestries, was terribly lonely, as four-poster beds typically weren't the chattiest of company.

The bed creaked as you shifted onto your back, staring up at the stone ceiling, hands fisted in the soft fabric of the creme night rail you wore. You tried not to think of how Wind had almost been slashed, or how close Time had gotten to being bisected by a moblin, but they kept popping up the harder you willed them away.

It was hopeless, you realized. Completely, utterly hopeless.

You swung your legs off the side of the bed, kicking your slippers on and shuffling to the nightstand, where a lone candle sat. With trembling hands, you lit it. A fierce orange glow illuminated the room, and you used it to guide you to the door, peering outside at the empty hallway.

You were no stranger to the castle, which is why you stepped out for a short walk, shoes scuffing gently on the polished floor.

Aimlessly, you wandered, uncaring of where you ended up. Dark shadows stretched and spun before you, quickly vanquished by the light of the candle. You walked beneath one of the many arches, entering a hallway you didn't recognize. A large portrait hung on the very back wall, a stunning caricature of Queen Zelda and... Warriors.

You approached the portrait, holding up your candle for a better view. Their faces were relaxed–not too relaxed, of course–and could be vaguely described as peaceful. Warriors himself looked younger, like the burden of being a hero had not yet hit, with a small grin that made the corners of your lips quirk up.

"...(Y/n)?"

You nearly dropped the candle as you spun around, heart nearly leaping from your chest.

"Wars?!"

And there he was, in all his blonde-haired, bleary-eyed glory, dressed in nothing but a pair of pants. You tried not to look at his chest, mostly because it was highly inappropriate and partially because you were supposed to be upset, and looking at that glorious abdomen made you feel anything but sad.

"You're not asleep," he observed in a matter-of-fact tone. "Why was I expecting this?"

You crossed your arms over your chest. "I could say the same about you."

"I know," his gaze flicked to the portrait, then back to you. "Do you want to talk?"

"Not really."

"Liar."

You bristled. "Excuse me?"

"You're unexcused," Warriors shot back, and you became distinctly aware of just how close a two-foot distance was when you were alone. "Tell me the truth."

"And that is?"

The captain fixed you with a half-hearted, largely exhausted glare. "Gee, (Y/n), maybe when you climbed a tree to avoid medical attention?"

"That's diff–"

"Or perhaps when you refused to let Hyrule heal you until we climbed the tree?"

"That's not–"

"Or should I mention that time you attempted to give Wild a healing potion after he stubbed his toe?"

"You–"

"I'm not done," Warriors cut you off, running a hand down his face. "Do you have any idea how worried we were? How worried I was?"

There was silence, because you didn't trust yourself to speak without breaking down.

"Well?" the captain prompted. "Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

You stared at him. This was pointless; you didn't want to talk, you wanted...

A knot formed in your stomach. What did you want? It had been so long since you considered something so... well, you felt it was rather mundane, but that didn't excuse that you had no idea what you wanted.

You didn't realize you had begun to cry until Warriors' hand swiped gently at your face with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. For you, at least.

"It's going to be alright," he said, and, before you knew it, you were bawling, thick sobs shaking your shoulders. Wars wordlessly pulled you to his chest, wrapping his arms around your trembling form.

"I can't do it," you whispered against his clavicle, arms encircling his bare back. "If I can't help him, how am I to help the rest of you?"

"You don't have to," the captain responded softly, hugging you a bit tighter. "You've helped enough-- no, more than enough."

"I know, b-but," you hated how your voice wavered noticeably when you spoke the last word. "I can't lose you."

"You won't."

"How can you promise that?" you hiccuped, pressing yourself closer, heavy tears blurring your vision. "Wars..."

"We're strong, (Y/n), we'll always be here," he responded slowly. Carefully. "Always."

“Promise me,” you whispered, unable to force any other words out. You needed to hear him say it, and the anticipation was tearing you from the inside out.

“I promise,” said Warriors. He sounded genuine, but, then again, he always did.

“Good,” you sniffed, feeling slightly sheepish for crying on him in the middle of the night. “I’m sorry, I just…”

You froze when Warriors put a finger over your lips, shushing you softly. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, holding you like he would never let go. “Don’t apologize for things that aren’t your fault, okay?”

That… that was new. You had always liked Warriors; he was kind and reliable, not to mention an excellent strategist. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach, but you willed them away, hoping the night was dark enough to conceal the burning flush on your cheeks.

“...Okay,” you agreed, distinctly aware of the flexing muscles lying just beneath your fingertips. Warriors was strong–they all were–and you felt as much anxiety over it as you did comfort. “Why… Why were you up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he responded quickly, and you couldn’t help but chuckle half-heartedly. “What is it?”

The words slipped from you like a knife through butter, like the softest silk and the quietest breeze. “We’re both hopeless.”

Warriors hummed and turned his sparkling cerulean gaze to you. “Maybe,” he whispered to the night. “Helplessness can be helped.”

“You think?” You were almost afraid to ask, but you could have done anything to hear his voice again.

“I think it’s time for bed.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. Warriors released you when you pushed lightly on his chest, arms hanging loosely by his bare sides. “Isn’t that Sky’s line?”

“...I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“Deal.”

With slightly-lifted spirits, you peered outside, studying the star-spangled sky with mild interest. The moon was bright, bathing the hallway in a milky sheen that made it all the more eternal, and you wondered why you hadn’t taken the time to study it before. “It’s so–… I never noticed…”

“Beauty comes in many forms,” Warriors intoned softly with a glance in your direction. “There are people who go their whole lives without appreciating the little things.”

“And you are?”

The captain hesitated, shoulders slumping slightly, making you wonder if he would appreciate a hug. “I’m still working on it,” he admitted softly, and made the executive decision not to pry.

“So am I,” you shot an exhausted grin his way. “...How mad do you think Hyrule will be if I don’t sleep?”

Warriors ran a hand down his face, and only a fool would miss the very obvious, very large smile he was attempting to conceal. Until it shifted to a grin, then a smirk.

“If I have to sleep, you do too.”

“Actually–”

“Hush,” you blinked dumbly when his hand extended, palm up, toward you. A few seconds passed, and Warriors let out a small huff. “(Y/n)–”

“Present.”

“...Just take my hand.”

You did.

First chapter done! This is the second ask that has activated me like this, and I'm excitedly-terrified of the other wonderful ideas y'all might send me in the future!

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #the chain x reader #link x reader smut #loz fanfic #lu x reader #lu warriors #lu warriors x reader #lu fic #hurt/comfort #shameless smut

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tainsan · 1 year ago

Text

misfits XIII

⇥ pairing: ot8 ateez x fem! reader

⇥ warnings: self deprication but thats it I think :O, mentions of suggestive content

⇥ word count: 9.1k

⇥ a/n: hello guys, it has been a while. sorry for my inactivity and all the people waiting for new chapters, i havent been very well the past few months. i am okay though!! i hope you enjoy this chapter even though it is somewhat of a filler

⇢ masterlist ⇠

previous chapter ⇠ ⇢ next chapter...

Finishing typing the last sentence of your assignment, a sense of accomplishment washes over you. But even in that moment of triumph, the proposition from your roommates continues to occupy your thoughts. It had been a distraction throughout the day, and it had affected your ability to concentrate on your work.

The internal struggle you are experiencing is rooted in a mix of emotions. You yearned for the affection and love your roommates offered, wanting to be part of a relationship that felt incredibly meaningful. But doubts lingered in the back of your mind, like shadows in the corners of your thoughts.

‘Am I good enough?’ The question had haunted you throughout the day. You wondered if you were deserving of their affections, if you could truly measure up to their standards. Insecurity gnaws at you, and you can’t help but compare yourself to the admirers and fans your roommates had.

The cryptic message you had received added another layer of uncertainty. You were aware of the intense scrutiny and potential backlash that came with being in a relationship with the ‘famous’ campus group. The fear of facing hate and criticism from others weighs heavily on your mind, making you wonder if you have the strength to endure it.

Your curtains are open, allowing the dim, amber light from the streetlights outside to filter into your room. It's nighttime, and the glow of the streetlights casts soft, gentle patterns on your walls. The air in your room is crisp, and the faint aroma of dinner cooking wafts through the air, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. Your laptop sits on your desk, its screen illuminating your face as you sit in quiet contemplation, lost in your thoughts and the gentle ambiance of the night.

Closing your laptop, your roommates' proposition still loomed large, a complex and challenging choice that required careful consideration. You knew that the path ahead wouldn't be easy, but you also knew that your feelings for them were genuine and deep.

Suddenly, a knock resounds on your door.

"____, dinner is ready," San's voice reaches you through the wooden door.

You close your laptop and push back your chair, acknowledging his call. "Coming," you respond, but the weakness in your voice doesn't escape San's notice.

Stepping out of your room, you find San waiting for you in the hallway, his brow furrowed and concern evident in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice gentle, as he takes in the change in your usual behaviour.

You pause for a moment, meeting San's gaze with a mixture of gratitude and apprehension. It is clear that he sensed something was amiss, and you appreciated his concern. You manage a faint smile, but it doesn't quite reach your eyes as you offer a reassuring nod.

"I'm fine," you say, a small white lie slipping past your lips. You didn't want to burden San with your worries or concerns, not when they were already so caring and supportive.

“You aren't good at lying, sweetheart.” San's expression remains filled with concern, the nickname making your heart skip a beat.

"It's nothing, San," you say with a forced smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. You walk past him into the dining room without making much eye contact, leaving him with a gnawing feeling of concern in the pit of his stomach.

San watches you go, his brows furrowing deeper with worry. He knows you well enough to sense when something is wrong, and tonight, something definitely doesn't seem right. Your usual enthusiasm and energy have been replaced by a quiet reserve that's completely out of character.

As he makes his way to the kitchen, he can't help but feel a growing unease. San has come to know that you have a tendency to keep your worries to yourself, often trying to spare others from your burdens. But tonight, it feels different, and he can't shake the feeling that you might be going through something you're not sharing.

In the kitchen, he finds Hongjoong, who's busy with some last-minute preparations for dinner. San doesn't waste any time and approaches him, his voice low and filled with concern.

"Hey, Joong, have you noticed anything strange about ____? She's been acting really off tonight."

Hongjoong, focused on his task, pauses and looks at San, his brows furrowing in response to the worried tone in San's voice.

"Off? What do you mean?"

San briefly explains how you've been unusually quiet and distant, and how your smile seems forced. Hongjoong's expression shifts from curiosity to deep concern as he listens.

"Thanks for letting me know, San," Hongjoong says, his own worry now evident. He sets down the utensils he was holding and sighs, his thoughts consumed by concern for you. "We should keep an eye on her. Maybe after dinner, we can talk to her and see if there's anything she wants to share, just in case there’s something bothering her.."

Just as they're discussing their concerns, Mingi, who had been in the hallway and overhears their conversation, joins them with a troubled expression. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the gravity of the situation had drawn him in.

"What's going on, guys?" Mingi asks, his voice laced with worry. "Is something wrong with ____?"

San and Hongjoong exchange a glance, realising that their concerns had been overheard. Hongjoong explains the situation to Mingi, filling him in on your unusual behaviour and the sense of unease that had settled over the house.

Mingi's expression darkens with worry, as Hongjoong and San scurry to continue preparing for dinner, Mingi takes a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words pressing on him. He clears his throat, his voice steady but filled with concern.

"I've noticed it too," Mingi begins, his eyes darting between San and Hongjoong. “She was really quiet when we walked home today, usually she talks about her day in detail…”

Mingi’s voice trails off and Hongjoong notices he has more to say.

“What is it, Mingi?” He asks, concerned.

"I can’t help thinking about what she told us the other day, about her depression and the night up on the rooftop.”

San leans against the counter, his brow furrowed in sadness as he remembers your heart piercing words.

“I'm worried that whatever's bothering her tonight might be related to that. I hope it's nothing too serious, but... I can't help but worry if it's making her have those thoughts again.” Mingi lowers his voice and walks towards the two, “her anxiety has been really bad recently, she had an extreme anxiety attack a while ago, I thought her mind had slipped completely."

San and Hongjoong exchange glances, their worry deepening as they absorb Mingi's revelation.

Hongjoong nods, his expression determined. "We need to talk to her, then. Make sure she knows we're here for her, no matter what."

Mingi and San both agree, and their shared worry for you becomes the driving force behind their preparations for dinner. They want tonight to be an opportunity for you to open up, to share whatever is weighing on your mind, and to remind you that you're not alone in this journey. Mental health is something they take seriously, and they're ready to offer their support in any way they can.

Seonghwa, who is seated beside you, shoots you a concerned glance as he notices your quietness as you enter the room, along with your distant expression.

"Hey," he says softly, reaching out to gently touch your hand. "Is everything okay?"

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts and offer Seonghwa a faint smile. "Yeah, I'm just... thinking," you reply, your voice trailing off as you continue to wrestle with your internal turmoil.

Across from you, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Jongho exchange worried glances, their usual lively banter subdued by the palpable tension that seems to emanate from you. They had all picked up on your unease the second you entered the room and were extremely concerned about your well-being.

Yeosang, who is sitting at the head of the table, clears his throat and speaks up, his voice gentle yet filled with genuine concern. "You've been really quiet today. Is there something on your mind?"

You glanced around the table at the faces of your roommates, each one displaying a mix of worry and care. They have been so patient and understanding, and you can’t help but feel a deep sense of gratitude for the bonds you had formed with them over time. You appreciate their concern, yet it feels almost overwhelming for them to be questioning you.

Taking a deep breath, you realise that they will likely not drop the situation until they have an answer.

"Just a busy day," you reply, attempting to brush off their concern with a forced smile. However, you know that your roommates can see right through your facade.

"You can't lie very well," Jongho's soft voice speaks up from in front of you, his eyes holding a gentle concern that's difficult to ignore. You can feel the weight of his worry pressing down on you, and it only intensifies your own anxieties.

Before you can respond, the atmosphere in the room shifts noticeably. San, Mingi, and Hongjoong enter the dining area, their faces reflecting the tension in the room. They exchange quick glances, and it's clear that the others have noticed your change in demeanour.

Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa, and Jongho keep their eyes on you, their worry palpable. They know you well enough to recognize when something is bothering you, and it's evident that your previous statement didn't satisfy their concerns. They exchange subtle glances with each other, a silent form of communication that you're all too familiar with.

You continue to insist that you're okay, not wanting your concerns to burden them. You don't want them to know about the malicious messages you've been receiving, along with the fear of not being good enough. You were on the verge of saying yes to their proposition until those messages arrived, and they've left you feeling frightened and uncertain.

Despite your attempts to reassure everyone, they keep pressing you, their genuine concern for your well-being on full display.

San leans in slightly closer, his eyes searching yours as he says, "love, we're just worried about you. You don't seem like yourself tonight."

Mingi adds, "Yeah, you're usually the one who brings the energy to the group. We hate to see you like this."

Hongjoong chimes in, "If something's bothering you, you can always talk to us. We're here for you."

Seonghwa nods in agreement, his expression soft and caring. "You don't have to carry your burdens alone, ____."

As their questions and probing looks continue, you can feel your patience wearing thin. You're caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between wanting to open up and fearing their reaction to your struggles. The thought of burdening them with your problems only adds to your anxiety.

Finally, you stand up, your irritation bubbling to the surface. "I said I'm fine, okay?"

Your voice is sharper than you intended, and you can see the hurt in their eyes. You immediately regret your outburst, but the pressure of the situation has become too much to bear. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to…”

Without another word, you turn and walk out of the room, the sounds of their worried whispers following you like a haunting melody.

Leaving the dining room, the tense atmosphere you've left behind still lingers in your mind. You're not sure where you're going or what you plan to do; you just need to escape the overwhelming concern of your roommates for a moment.

However, as you turn the corner towards your room, you unexpectedly bump into Yunho, who seems to be on his way out of his bedroom. His eyes immediately catch the distress on your face, and he can sense that something is wrong.

"Tiny, wait," Yunho calls out, his voice laced with worry as he takes a step towards you, trying to scan what is happening.

But you're already moving, your steps quick and determined. You can't handle the concern of another person right now, not when you're struggling to hold yourself together. With a mumbled apology, you hurriedly walk past Yunho, your heart racing with a mixture of emotions.

Yunho watches you for a moment, concern etched across his face, before realising that you're not going to stop. He knows he can't force you to talk if you're not ready, but he can't shake the feeling that something is seriously bothering you. Yunho makes his way to the dining room, his heart heavy.

Back in your room, you shut the door behind you, your heart heavy with a mixture of emotions. You're not hungry anymore, and the thoughts of the messages and your own insecurities continue to haunt you. The room feels suffocating as you wrestle with your fears, wishing you could find a way to escape them and open up to your roommates about what's truly been bothering you.

Meanwhile, in the dining room, your roommates are clearly unsettled by your abrupt departure and your obvious distress. They exchange concerned glances, their worry for you evident in their expressions.

Mingi is the first to break the silence, his voice filled with unease. "I'm assuming you all notice something is very wrong?" he asks, his brow furrowing.

Seonghwa and Wooyoung nod in agreement, both clearly affected by your behaviour.

Seonghwa speaks up, his voice soft but laced with concern. "She's been distant all day. I thought it was just stress or something, but this is different."

San clenches his fists, his frustration and guilt bubbling to the surface. "We should've noticed something was wrong. She's been dealing with something, and we didn't even realise it."

Wooyoung places a comforting hand on San's shoulder, trying to calm him down. "San, don't blame yourself. We all missed it. What's important now is figuring out what's going on and how we can help her."

Yunho chimes in, "You're right, Wooyoung. We need to support her. She's one of us, and we can't let her go through this alone."

Yeosang adds, "I agree. We think we should give her some space for now, but we can't just leave her like this."

Jongho, ever the caring and empathetic one, speaks softly, "Maybe we should send someone to talk to her. Make sure she's okay."

Hongjoong nods, considering the options. "I'll go."

Yeosang offers, "And bring her some food. She didn't eat anything, and skipping meals won't help."

With a unanimous decision to have Hongjoong talk to you, your roommates feel a mix of concern and hope. They know that Hongjoong's leadership and caring nature make him the right choice to approach you in this delicate situation.

As they continue their meal, their thoughts are with you, hoping that you'll open up to Hongjoong and that whatever is troubling you can be resolved. They also feel a sense of unity and support among themselves, knowing that they'll be there for you no matter what. Hongjoong finishes his meal quickly, determined to check on you and make sure you're okay.

In the confines of your room, tears stream down your cheeks as you huddle beneath your sheets. The weight of your emotions presses heavily on your chest, making it hard to breathe. Negative thoughts swirl in your head, each one more self-doubting and destructive than the last.

“Why did I snap like that?” You question yourself, your voice barely a whisper amidst the tears. "They're going to think I'm a burden, that I can't handle this."

You bury your face in your pillow, muffling your sobs as you contemplate the possibility that your roommates might stop liking you because of your outburst. It's a fear that gnaws at your heart, leaving you feeling vulnerable and alone.

Thoughts of inadequacy and worthlessness swirl relentlessly in your mind. You replay the dinner table scene over and over, each time emphasising how you snapped and how you failed to explain what's been troubling you. The fear of being a burden gnaws at your soul, and you're convinced that your roommates must be tired of dealing with your issues.

"Why can't I just be normal?" you whisper to yourself, your voice trembling with self-recrimination. "Why can't I handle this like everyone else?"

The tears continue to flow, unabated, as you feel like you're drowning in a sea of self-criticism. You wish you could push these thoughts away, but they cling to you like a relentless storm, obscuring any glimmer of hope or positivity.

In this moment, you long for someone to rescue you from the darkness, to pull you out of this suffocating abyss of negativity. You crave understanding and acceptance, but the fear that you'll never find it keeps you locked in a cycle of despair, feeling more alone than ever.

Just as you feel like you're being swallowed whole by your negative thoughts, a faint but unmistakable knock on your door breaks through the darkness. It's a sound that pierces through the gloom like a ray of light, a glimmer of hope that someone cares enough to check on you.

With a shaky breath, you sit up in your bed, wiping away your tears as you call out, "Come in."

The door opens slowly, and Hongjoong steps into the room, his expression a mix of concern and understanding. His presence alone feels like a lifeline, something to cling to in the midst of your emotional turmoil. The moment his eyes land on your tear stained face, his heart tugs in his chest, feeling as if it dropped to his stomach.

"Hey," he says softly, his voice filled with compassion.

You swallow hard, your throat still constricted from crying, but you manage to find your voice. "I... I'm sorry for how I acted earlier. It's just... I've been feeling overwhelmed, and I didn't know how to explain it."

Hongjoong takes a step closer, his eyes filled with empathy. "Shh, you don't have to apologise. We all have our moments, and we care about you. You're not a burden, ____."

"I'm sorry, Hongjoong," you murmur, your voice heavy with emotions.

Hongjoong moves closer, his heart racing with the need to provide you with comfort. He stands before you at your bedside, hesitating for a moment before finally taking a seat beside you.

"Can I touch you?" he asks gently, his eyes filled with concern.

Looking at him, you see the glaze in his eyes. He looks nervous. You nod in response, granting him permission to offer his support.

Hongjoong takes your hand in his, his touch warm and reassuring. His heart pounds in his chest, a silent declaration that he cares deeply about your well-being.

"You don't have to apologise, ____," he says softly, his voice filled with understanding. "We're here for each other, through the good times and the bad."

Your eyes meet his, and you can see the sincerity and compassion reflected in his gaze. It's a comfort to know that you have someone who genuinely cares about your struggles.

The contrast between the authoritative and sometimes stern Hongjoong you've seen before and the gentle, comforting side he's showing now is striking. It makes your heart flutter and leaves you feeling surprisingly vulnerable.

You've always respected Hongjoong's leadership within your group of roommates. He exudes confidence and commands attention effortlessly. But seeing this softer, caring side of him makes you realise there's so much more to him than meets the eye.

As he sits beside you, offering his support and understanding, you can't help but be drawn to him more than you have felt before. His caring demeanour is like a soothing remedy for your troubled soul, and you find yourself appreciating him even more.

"I appreciate you being here," you admit, your voice quivering with emotion.

Hongjoong responds with a warm, reassuring smile, his thumb gently caressing the back of your hand.

"Anytime," he reassures you.

Hongjoong continues to offer you his comforting presence, yet he notices the lingering sadness in your eyes. He can tell that there's something more troubling you, something beyond what you've shared so far.

“I would appreciate knowing what is going on. We want to help you.”

You hesitate for a moment, struggling with whether or not to open up about the malicious messages. But his sincerity and the trust you've built in this vulnerable moment encourage you to share.

"It's…” you begin to talk, yet you feel the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your chest.

Hongjoong turns towards you, his worry evident as he scans your slightly shaking body.

“It’s okay ____.”

“I want to say yes.” you say, “to be yours.”

The weight of your words settles in the air, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. Hongjoong's heart races, and the room feels charged with a new energy. Hearing you express your feelings for him so openly and sincerely is something he never expected, yet it's the most beautiful surprise he could have imagined.

His eyes lock onto yours, filled with a mixture of surprise, joy, and a deep, profound affection. He searches your gaze as if trying to read every emotion, every thought that lies beneath the surface. Yet when he sees the hurt expression on your face, he wonders what else you have to say.

“I don't know if I can.”

The moment your words leave your lips, a heavy silence settles between you and Hongjoong. His expression shifts from one of hopeful anticipation to a mixture of surprise, disappointment, and hurt. It's as if the air has been sucked out of the room, leaving behind a palpable tension.

Hongjoong tries to find his words, but his voice catches in his throat, and for a brief moment, he can't meet your gaze. He looks away, his jaw clenched as he processes your rejection.

“I… I see.” he finally manages to say, “why… is that?”

“The messages," you finally admit, your voice shaky.

Immediately Hongjoong is confused about your statement. He doesn't understand what the messages have to do with you rejecting him.

“What messages?”

You take a deep breath, your eyes welling up with tears as you try to explain. "I've been receiving some weird messages… about all of you.”

“What do you mean? What do they say?”

“Well, I only got one, but it was strange.”

You show Hongjoong the message, "have fun with my boys…" and you witness as Hongjoong's eyes narrow in recognition, and his fists clench even tighter.

It feels as if his world is crashing down on him as he pieces together the puzzle. Hongjoong's expression morphs into one of anger, his jaw tensing as he absorbs your words. The protective instinct within him flares, and he clenches his fists, visibly seething. He knows exactly who sent the messages. Despite his rising anger, he remains composed in front of you, not wanting to further burden you with his own emotions.

"It's okay, just ignore that message," Hongjoong says, and though he attempts to conceal his anger, you can sense the underlying frustration in his tone.

Your curiosity gets the better of you, and you press, "Hongjoong?"

He takes a deep breath before continuing, "Don't let other people's opinions define our relationship. It's about us and no one else."

“Hongjoong, I’m scared of starting a relationship with you guys.”

Hongjoong's expression softens as he senses your vulnerability. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

"I understand," he replies softly. "Starting a relationship with us might seem daunting, but remember that we care about you deeply. We'll be here every step of the way, and you don't have to face anything alone. Please don't worry about what others think. It is just us in this, no one else."

His words provide you with a sense of security, and you begin to realise that you have a strong support system with the boys.

You let out a sigh, your worries spilling out. "It's just... I'm afraid I'm not good enough for you guys. You're all so amazing, and I don't want to hold you back or bring any problems into your lives." voicing your worries, a wave of self-doubt begins to wash over you.

Before you can delve further into your anxieties, Hongjoong moves with a surprising swiftness. He places a gentle hand under your chin, lifting your head to meet his eyes, effectively silencing your anxious thoughts. His touch is feather-light yet firm, a reassuring gesture that instantly grabs your attention.

A split second later, your breath catches as he leans down, his warm lips tenderly pressing against your forehead. The kiss feels like a soft promise, an unspoken reassurance that sends shivers down your spine. You're momentarily stunned by this unexpected display of affection, your heart racing in your chest.

Without any hesitation, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. The embrace is warm, secure, and filled with an undeniable tenderness that envelopes you entirely. It's as if his arms are a sanctuary, a place where your worries and doubts can find refuge.

"My treasure," he murmurs, his voice a gentle whisper against your ear. "You are more than good enough. You're unique and special in your own way. We care about you for who you are, not for any other reason. Please don't doubt yourself. We're here because we want to be, and we'll support you through everything. We love you."

In his embrace, you find refuge and a sense of belonging that you've been longing for. The weight of your worries slowly dissipates, replaced by the comforting warmth of Hongjoong's presence and the knowledge that you are cherished just as you are.

In his embrace, you begin to feel the weight of your worries slowly dissipate, replaced by a warm sense of belonging and acceptance.

"You love me?" You pose the question, the words hanging in the air, your heart racing with a mix of hope and trepidation. Hongjoong looks at you, his expression a blend of surprise and realisation, as if he's just spoken without fully thinking through his words.

Chuckling softly, he pulls away from you, a confident and sincere look on his face.

"Yes, I do," he affirms, his voice steady and filled with genuine emotion, yet you can see he is nervous for your response.

“Hongjoong, I think I love you too.” you admit, your face flushing hot.

“Fuck ____.” Hongjoong swears through his teeth, then looks away from you. You look at him confused, your eyes wide.

“What?” You ask, confused at his reaction, scared of what he will say.

Hongjoong turns to glance back at you, his eyes meeting yours, and in that moment, he feels as if he's teetering on the edge of losing his mind and sanity.

Your wide, doe-like eyes, filled with a mix of curiosity and a hint of mischief, hold an inexplicable power over him. It's as though they can peer into the depths of his soul, unravelling the layers he's tried to keep hidden. He cannot seem to get over how adorable and innocent you look. The way your words have such an impact on him leaves his mind swirling with many thoughts.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I won't be able to hold back.”

His unexpected words leave you utterly shocked, the abruptness of the confession catching you off guard. Yet, the way they make you feel is nothing short of indescribable.

A rush of heat surges through you, starting from the tips of your fingers and toes, and spreading like wildfire throughout your body. Your cheeks flush as a wave of flustered embarrassment washes over you.

But beneath the shock and embarrassment, a more primal, intoxicating sensation takes hold. You feel an undeniable surge of desire, a raw, visceral attraction that courses through your veins. Your heart races in response to the unexpected intensity of the moment. Hongjoong's words have an electrifying effect on you, leaving you in a state of arousal that you can't quite ignore. It's as if the room has suddenly grown hotter, and every inch of your skin tingles with a newfound awareness of his presence.

In this moment of vulnerability and desire, you find yourself torn between your instincts and your rationality. His confession has unleashed a torrent of emotions that you never expected to confront, and the magnetic pull between you and Hongjoong is impossible to deny.

“Hongjoong,” you whisper, your fingertips on fire as you play with your clothes.

“We should discuss the relationship with the boys when you are ready with your answer.” Hongjoong says, quickly, trying to ignore the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

Suddenly, a profound realisation washes over you: there is seemingly nothing in this world capable of undermining the unbreakable bond you share with the boys. After years of yearning for one another's company, you are now reunited, and it feels as though no external influence could ever drive a wedge between you. While you are fully aware that maintaining relationships can be challenging, with the boys, it all seems effortless. There's a natural understanding between you, a deep knowledge of each other that makes everything feel remarkably smooth and naturally occurring.

Amidst your personal struggles with mental health, a lingering concern lingers in your mind; the worry that these challenges might adversely affect your relationship. However, the boys have consistently demonstrated their unwavering support, proving time and again that they not only embrace your struggles but are also somewhat professional at navigating such turbulent waters. Their understanding and expertise in handling these issues have become a reassuring pillar of strength, reinforcing the belief that your bond can withstand any storm that life may throw your way.

“I want to say yes.”

Hongjoong's eyes, once covered with nervousness, now lit up with an intensity you had never seen before. It was as if a constellation of stars had suddenly burst into existence within his gaze, filling the room with their luminous glow.

“Come, we need to talk to the boys.”

Hongjoong's touch was gentle as he clasped your hand, coaxing you off the bed. You yielded to his pull, your feet finding the floor. But there was something lingering, something unsaid that held you back. You tugged him slightly, your grip on his hand urging him to pause. Confusion knit his brows, and his concern was palpable in his searching gaze.

“You don't have to hold back.” you whisper, with some fear as to his reaction, yet you start to feel confident upon seeing Hongjoong’s flustered state.

"Doll," Hongjoong whispers, his voice a seductive murmur as he closed the distance between you. His desire was evident in the way his eyes smouldered with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. His words hung in the air, thick with promise, and they caught you off guard.

"Let's talk to the boys," he continued, his tone laced with anticipation, "and when the time is right, I’ll show you everything I have been waiting to do for years.”

The boldness of his statement sends a rush of arousal coursing through your body. It is as if a dormant fire had been ignited, and your heart races at the thought of what awaits. The anticipation of sharing your desires and fantasies with him, of finally giving in to the passion that had simmered between you for so long, leaves you breathless with longing.

“Let’s go.”

Hongjoong walks behind you as you step back into the kitchen where your roommates' eyes immediately turn toward you. There's a mix of relief and concern in their expressions, like they've been holding their breath until your return.

Wooyoung, who's drying dishes with Yeosang, flashes a warm smile your way, but his eyes are filled with concern. Seonghwa and Yunho, chatting at the counter, both turn towards you with wide smiles on their faces, but their gazes are searching, trying to read your mood. Mingi, Jongho, and San, who are seated at the island, exchange subtle glances, and it's clear they've been discussing something among themselves.

It's like a silent symphony of emotions playing out in their eyes, and you can sense their collective concern hanging in the air. You take a deep breath, realising that it's time to address the situation, to clear the air and let them in on your feelings, just as you've allowed Hongjoong to do. Before you can speak, they collectively pause what they're doing, waiting for you to make the first move, to share your thoughts and feelings.

“I’m sorry guys, for rushing out like that…” You begin to say, yet before you can continue, a chorus of ‘It’s okay’ and ‘don't worry’s sound out, filling you with an intense feeling of gratitude.

"I, uh, wanted to say something," you begin, your voice carrying a mix of nervousness and anticipation. The room falls into a hushed silence, all eyes fixed on you, their expressions a blend of curiosity and affection.

Taking a deep breath, you look towards Hongjoong, who gives you a reassuring nod, making you feel more confident as you continue, "I've thought about this a lot, and I want you all to know how special you are to me. I think we should give it a try."

Around you, the boys freeze in their tracks, their expressions shifting from disbelief to sheer elation. Your words land in their hearts like a gentle caress, and the impact was profound. It was as if a wave of pure joy had washed over them, leaving them floating in a sea of happiness. Their faces light up with radiant smiles, their eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy. The room seemed to shimmer with an aura of warmth and contentment that only your words could bring.

Seonghwa, the embodiment of tenderness, takes a step closer, his voice filled with emotion. "You have no idea how much those words mean to us," he admits, his eyes glistening.

San, who had dreamt of this moment for years, is overwhelmed with gratitude. "I can’t believe this is happening," he said, his voice trembling with sincerity.

Yunho, the eternal optimist, can’t stop grinning. "This feels way better than I imagined!" he exclaimed under his breath, yet you manage to catch it, causing your heart to race even more than it already was.

Jongho, the pillar of strength, looks at you with profound appreciation. "Thank you for choosing us," he says, his voice steady with emotion.

Yeosang, usually reserved, couldn't help but express his delight. "I've been waiting for this for so long," he admitted, his eyes shining.

Mingi and Wooyoung, the jokers of the group, let out joyful laughs, not being able to speak any words, their happiness immeasurable.

Hongjoong, whose emotions were always close to the surface, openly shares his feelings. "I can't express how happy I am right now," he confesses, his voice quivering with emotion.

They surround you, their words and expressions convey the depth of their joy. It feels like a moment of pure happiness, a shared understanding that something beautiful is beginning. With hearts full of love and excitement, you know that your journey with these incredible individuals was just starting, and it was going to be an extraordinary adventure filled with love, passion, and unforgettable moments.

“Boys, back up a little,” Hongjoong speaks out, his usual tone of authority present once more as he realises all eight of them huddled around you, making you feel slightly vulnerable.

The seven boys gathered around you pick up on your tenseness. It wasn't that you minded their presence in your personal space; in fact, their company was something you cherished. It was the attention focused solely on you that made you feel a bit small, like the centre of the universe in that moment.

San, always attuned to your feelings, senses your unease. He takes a step back with the others and speaks gently, "Hey, we're here because we care about you, but we don't want you to feel overwhelmed. We can take things at your pace."

Thankfully, nobody seemed to mind your tenseness, realising the reasoning for it.

“So how is this going to work?” You manage to ask, not quite sure as to how a relationship with nine people is going to work out.

Sitting down at your usual place at the table, you notice the boys rush to their own seats also.

“It's just like a normal relationship really.” Hongjoong answers your question as he takes a seat down in front of you.

“Just there’s a lot of love going around, I suppose.” Jongho adds, “it’s not too different to a monogamous relationship.”

“You probably will go on a lot of dates,” Seonghwa jokes, chuckling gently.

“And receive lots of affection,” Yeosang says quietly from his seat, and you can’t help but notice the blush covering his face.

“But like every relationship, you are allowed to say no to us, in any way. If you aren't comfortable with something, don't be scared to let us know. We would hate to ever make you uncomfortable or upset.” Yunho says, a reassuring smile on his face, yet you can tell his words are important to him and the others around him, as they nod and agree to Yunho.

“If you have any questions don't feel scared to ask, but remember, this isn't a contract, it's a relationship, just go with the flow. You can do whatever you would like, and… leave whenever you want.” Hongjoong says, his words slightly sorrow, which you are quick to reassure him.

“We don't need to think of that now, I’m not planning on leaving any time soon.” You quickly say, not wanting to see the hurt expression on Hongjoong’s face any longer.

Little did you know, your short but heartfelt statement brought joy not only to Hongjoong but to all eight men surrounding you. Their smiles grew wider, and their eyes shimmered with happiness as they soaked in your words.

“Like most relationships though,” Hongjoong begins, catching everyone’s attention, “although there are eight of us, not that I think you would ever even think of it, you can't be with anyone outside of this group. I want you to fully understand that.”

“Of course, I’m in a relationship with you eight, not anyone else and I think cheating is for sore losers who aren't happy with their partners but can't find the guts to break up with them because they are scared of losing the only person who cares about them in their lives.” You quickly cut off your rant, upon seeing the confused, yet agreeing expressions on the men around you.

"Damn girl, did someone hurt you?" Wooyoung playfully says, his tone light and teasing. But as soon as the words leave his mouth, a sense of realisation strikes him like a bolt of lightning as he sees your slightly hurt expression and his heart twangs with guilt. It wasn't just a casual remark; someone had, indeed, broken your trust, and the implications of that hit all the men around you like a ton of bricks.

Wooyoung’s playful expression shifts to one of concern and protectiveness in an instant. His eyes darken with a mix of anger and empathy as he realises that you have experienced pain and betrayal.

The other members, too, sense your change in behaviour . They exchange glances, silently communicating their readiness to support you.

San, who is observing you very intently, caught on to the change in your demeanour. He leans closer, his face reflecting his own concern. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.

“It was a while ago, I'm rather glad it was a short lived relationship, he turned out to be such a dick.”

“Does he go to our school?” Yunho asks, his eyes narrowed in some form of mixture of jealousy and anger.

“I am not going to answer that question.” You chuckle, “but don't worry about anything, I only have eyes for you guys now. It was one of my first relationships anyways, so I’m still quite new to the whole affection thing.”

"Just how experienced are you?" Wooyoung can't resist teasing, a mischievous glint in his eye and a playful smirk on his face as he witnesses your flustered state.

San, standing beside Wooyoung, couldn't help but chuckle at the teasing. He playfully slaps Wooyoung on the back of the head, a gentle reprimand for his impulsive curiosity. However, it was evident that San, too, was curious about your past relationships.

The other members exchange knowing glances, their expressions a mix of amusement and interest. They were already accustomed to each other's past experiences, and your life is now intricately entwined with theirs, they can’t help but wonder how far you have gone into a relationship with someone. Naturally, they are curious about your past and the experiences that have shaped you.

It takes you a second to regain your composure, and you realise you could make some fun out of it while you're here.

"Well, let's just say, I know what I like and what I want to try," you reply with a clearly suggestive undertone, a playful glint in your eye. Your words hang in the air, and it does not go unnoticed by the men surrounding you. Their eyes darken with desire as they absorb the implications of your statement. You hear a few sharp intakes of breath from around you, and you can't quite believe how much your words impacted the males around you.

In this moment, a tangible tension fills the room, the air crackling with unspoken desires and fantasies. Each of them felt a surge of longing, their own desires awakening in response to your sudden openness.

Hongjoong's usually composed demeanour wavers for a brief moment, his restraint tested by the allure of your words. Along with your words in the bedroom earlier, it seems like a potent mix that you are almost teasing him with.

San's eyes gleam with a playful challenge, as if he is ready to explore those desires with you. Desperately wanting to find the time with you to show you everything he’s been dreaming of for years.

Yunho feels a rush of heat, his thoughts consumed by the possibilities your words hold. The kiss you two shared reaches the front of his mind and he has a hard time hiding his excitement as he imagines what would happen if, next time, you don't stop.

Yeosang's usual calm exterior betrays a hint of excitement, a silent acknowledgment of the passionate connection that has been ignited.

Mingi's playful grin hints at his willingness to partake in such adventures. Wooyoung's creative mind is already racing with ideas of how to indulge in your fantasies.

Jongho, although rather inexperienced himself, finds himself wanting to explore his own desires alongside you.

Seonghwa's dark gaze locks onto yours, his expression a mix of intensity and anticipation, his sultry gaze causing butterflies to rush through your stomach, his lustful look making your heart beat rise.

In that charged moment, you were the epicentre of their desires, your words kindling a fire within each of them. It was a shared understanding that there were unexplored realms of passion waiting to be discovered, and they were eager to embark on that journey with you.

The room seemed to shrink as their longing gazes remained fixed on you, a silent invitation to explore the depths of desire and pleasure together. It was a promise of intimate moments yet to come, a tantalising glimpse into a future filled with passion and connection.

It is Yeosang’s voice who breaks the silence, although it is shaky, he holds some sort of power as he speaks, his brow raising slightly, “and what would those be?”

Feeling awfully in control of the situation makes you feel somewhat powerful. With a cheeky grin, you raised your eyebrows in response to Yeosang's curiosity.

"I guess you'll have to find out," you teased, your tone laced with playful mystery.

Your words hung in the air like a tantalising promise, and they didn't go unnoticed by the men around you. Arousal simmered beneath the surface, and each of them found their thoughts running wild, their desires ignited by the prospect of discovering the depths of your desires.

“Holy shit,” you hear San groan under his breath, avoiding your gaze.

With a mischievous giggle, you gracefully rise from your seat, a sense of satisfaction in the air. Playfully, you send a wink in their direction, a silent promise of more exciting moments to come.

“I’m going to get ready for bed,” you say. With a playful skip in your step, you make your way to the confines of your bedroom, leaving the men behind, their thoughts still simmering with desire.

Disappearing into your room, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement and anticipation. The playful banter had ignited a passionate spark among you all, and the possibilities for the future seemed endless. You knew that the intimate adventures awaiting you would be filled with desire, pleasure, and a deep connection that bound you together.

Wooyoung and Mingi quickly rush to stand, wanting to follow you into the confines of your room, to see exactly what you meant by your suggestive words. Seonghwa and Yunho shuffle in their seats, restless, also wishing to follow you to your bedroom. Yeosang, and San share a knowing glance, their faces both a deep shade of red. San chuckles to himself, clearly affected by your words, yet he finds the humour in your playful teasing, bringing a smile to his face.

Just as Wooyoung is about to make a dash for the exit, Hongjoong's voice cuts through the air, stern and authoritative. Without even sparing a glance at the two behind him, he asks them to sit down. His commanding tone brings both Mingi and Wooyoung to an abrupt halt, and they immediately sense the underlying seriousness in Hongjoong's demand.

Once again, Hongjoong's leadership qualities are not to be underestimated, and the weight of his words hung in the air, stopping any hasty actions in their tracks. His stern demeanour makes it clear that there was something important he wishes to address, and it has the full attention of those present. Mingi and Wooyoung exchange a quick glance, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

“What is it, Joong?” Seonghwa asks, his concern showing as he sees the furrowed expression on Hongjoong’s expression.

"I didn't want to bring the mood down, we should be happy right now," Hongjoong began, his voice filled with a hint of frustration. He runs a hand through his hair, a sign of his unease, before continuing, "I think Ryu knows about ___."

Mingi's reaction was immediate, and he couldn't contain his shock and anger. "What the fuck?" he exclaims, his eyebrows furrowing deeply.

The collective mood among all the men took a nosedive, plunging from happiness into a pit of uncertainty and concern.

San, always ready to protect and defend, stands up from his seat, his initial confusion giving way to anger. "What? What makes you think that?" he demands, his voice laced with frustration.

Hongjoong's revelation had thrown a dark shadow over the previously joyful atmosphere, and now, questions and fears raced through their minds. Gently Yeosang grabs San’s hand, momentarily calming his anger, although Yeosang himself feels as if he is seeing red.

“When I went to check on her, among other things, she told me the reason she was upset was because she received a message from someone.”

“What, from who?” Yeosang questions, his voice slightly sharper than usual, it does not go unnoticed by the seven around him.

“You can make a guess…” Hongjoong replies, looking down at his fingers which are picking a piece of dead skin on his nail.

“Are you sure it is from her?” Seonghwa begins, his hand resting on Hongjoong’s hand, stopping him from the bad habit of picking skin.

“In the message was the heart, with the eight, I’ve only ever seen her use that.”

“That’s her then.” Yunho says, his teeth gritted, looking forward to nothing in particular.

The tension in the room escalates as the seven men around Yunho struggle to process this unexpected revelation. The mere mention of Ryu's involvement casts a dark cloud over the previously uplifted atmosphere.

The unknown intentions of Ryu gnaw at their minds, leaving them feeling uneasy and apprehensive. While they had been able to protect you from Ryu's potential interference within the confines of their home, this new development has thrown a wrench into their plans. Things had suddenly become far more complicated than they had ever imagined.

Each of them wore expressions of concern, their thoughts racing as they contemplated the potential implications of Ryu's knowledge. The unspoken question hung heavily in the air: What was Ryu planning, and how would it affect you?

“Should we have waited until we knew Ryu was gone before we started our advances on ____?” Mingi questions, more to himself than to anyone else.

“It’s our relationship, another person shouldn't have a say in what we can and can't do with our girlfriend.” Jongho exclaims, his fists tightening in his lap.

"I get what you're saying, Jongho," Wooyoung exclaimed in response to Jongho's statement. He can empathise with Jongho's concerns, but he couldn't entirely agree with his viewpoint.

The situation was undeniably complex, and their protective instincts were at odds with the desire to see you happy and free from any past entanglements. It was a delicate balance they had to strike, and finding a resolution that would ensure your well-being while allowing you to pursue happiness was a challenge.

Wooyoung's voice holds a note of understanding as he continues, "But we can't just ignore this, can we? If Ryu does something, it means our guard might not be enough. We need to figure out what's going on and how it might affect ___." His concern for your safety was evident in his words, and he is determined to address the issue head-on.

Hongjoong's voice is contemplative as he speaks, his eyes reflecting his own internal analysis. "You're right," he admits, addressing the group. "We were excited when she forgave us, so we let our guard down."

The admission hung in the air, a collective acknowledgment that their happiness had, in a way, overshadowed the need for continued vigilance. It was a humbling realisation that their happiness with you had momentarily clouded their judgement.

Hongjoong continues, his tone firm and determined, "But that doesn't mean we can't rectify it. We need to be cautious, not just for our sake but for hers too. We won't let Ryu's presence threaten ___ or our relationship."

His words carry a sense of resolve, and it is clear that Hongjoong is committed to protecting you and ensuring that nothing would jeopardise the bond you had all worked so hard to rebuild.

The weight of Hongjoong's determination and leadership settles in the room, and the tension among the boys seems to ease slightly. There was a shared understanding among them that when Hongjoong took charge of a situation, there was little need to worry.

Hongjoong's ability to provide guidance and assert control over challenging circumstances is a source of comfort and reassurance for the group. His leadership has always played a crucial role in navigating the complexities of their relationships and disagreements in the past and the trust that he will ensure your safety and happiness.

In that moment, their trust in their captain’s abilities becomes a source of strength, a reminder that they are a unified front ready to face any challenges that come their way. The collective determination to protect you and preserve the chemistry you have found together was unwavering, and they knew that, under Hongjoong's guidance, they can face whatever lies ahead.

“Do you have any idea what she might want?” Yeosang asks gently after a few moments of reflective silence.

The seven men turned their collective gaze to Hongjoong, who had a deep furrow in his brow as he spoke. "She said that we are 'her boys,' not ___'s," he explains, his voice tinged with concern. He raises a hand to gently massage his temples, a sign of the weight of the situation.

Mingi's reaction is immediate and passionate. "That's insane! She was the one who hurt us. How could she possibly think that we belong to her?" His voice rises with anger and frustration.

San tries to diffuse the situation. "Calm down, Mingi. We don't want ___ to know what's happening." He emphasises the importance of keeping you in the dark for the time being.

Wooyoung, however, is torn. "That's stupid? ___ should know what's going on," he exclaims, his concern for your well-being outweighing his desire to keep you unaware of the situation.

The room is filled with conflicting emotions and opinions as they grapple with the complex web of feelings and loyalties surrounding Ryu's unexpected return and her claim over them.

Hongjoong's voice remains steady as he reasons with the boys, his calm demeanour a contrast to the escalating tension in the room. "If the situation escalates, we will tell her," he asserts firmly, emphasising the need for caution and measured responses.

While his decision received some negative reactions from the others, Hongjoong stood his ground, resolute in his determination to prioritise your safety and well-being. He understood the gravity of the situation and believed that, for the time being, it was best to shield you from unnecessary worries. It was a difficult decision, but he believed it was the right one to make.

"Try to focus on the positives right now, boys," Hongjoong encourages, his voice carrying a note of reassurance, "___ is finally ours. Let's lighten up a little."

Hongjoong's attempt to lighten the mood doesn’t go unnoticed. He speaks with a gentle tone and tries to muster a warm smile, which some of the boys returned more easily than others. Despite the lingering concerns and unease, there is a shared understanding among them.

His words are a reminder of the joy and happiness that have come with your forgiveness and acceptance. While the challenges they face are significant, the boys share a deep sense of happiness knowing that you were officially a part of their lives.

Amidst the uncertainties, their bond with you remained a source of strength, and they are determined to cherish the positive moments and continue building a future together.

----

⇢ taglist: @lilactangerine @plutoneu @abby-grace @sunkissed725 @lixiel0ver @acciocriativity @hyukssunflower @sunukissed @khjcoo @stopeatread @meginthebuilding27 @mychickentendou @sunnyhokyu @rxnexxi @croa-yevon @arabelleum @randomness7198 @dysftopia @lucymultistan @sookacc @starillusion13 @daceydeath @theamazinggrace-000 @smilingtokki @hasgalore @pytssamworld @just-a-really-bored-kpop-fan @satsuri3su @theonesoldtoonedirection @wooya1224 @deadpoetsandhoney @skztrophy @kunhengie @tinyelfperson @l0vetiny @simplyalfie @doggopepper @seungily @dino-teezerr @silentcry329 @formulateez @senpai-of-doom @aaaaajonghooooo @ijwsbdinp @liniiiaa @channiespup @heyitstacy @eightmakesonebraincell @araknoid @lilbugs-things

im sorry to say but the taglist is closed from now onwards.

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rin-sa · 11 months ago

Text

Sunday x Reader

CW: Hints of yandere, stockholm syndrome(?), unwanted pregnancy(?), abduction, nsfw. Attention, I do not know English, the work was written with the help of a translator! I made one of the orders with a small sketch.

It was pointless to run.

Sunday loves you. No, that's not the word. He's obsessed with you. So his obsession played against you. At the very beginning, this feathered one was categorically against taking you away from the outside world and, in general, somehow getting into your life. For him, it was something that would not only violate your trust, but would basically kill him in your eyes. He thought he would only be watching you surreptitiously. No one has abolished control and stalking. This Sunday was very, very good. So there's no way you'd be able to figure out that anyone was following you at all.

There were cameras everywhere, his eyes, people, crows. No personal space. However, the day came when he decided to kidnap you. What prompted him to do this was not only an obsessive thought that ate the poor man from the inside, no matter how hard he tried to fight it, but also seeing you next to someone was too unbearable for feathered.

Any person, regardless of gender, became an enemy for him. It's enough to spend a couple of seconds with you, as Sunday gives his assistants instructions to eliminate this impudent man. As soon as these people dared to encroach on his beloved?

It doesn't matter if you want to see him, he will follow you everywhere, thus protecting you. Are you strangers and you don't want to see that in reality? Nothing, you will meet in dreams, where you will not only get to know each other, but you will also see him regularly. You definitely won't be able to escape there, with all your desire, but will you have it? Doubtful. After all, you will spend time together there, he will behave diligently, believe me, He knows how to remain steadfast and calm. You will not be able to find out about his intentions in principle.

Briefly. In this way, he will get you used to his presence, first he will come as a stranger, and then he will persuade you to friendship, if not something more, in order to eventually take you away. Every dream will be accompanied by him, whether it's some kind of nightmare or not, you'll still be next to the feathered one. At some point you will not want to leave this place, because Sunday is near, what could be better?

Your next awakening was not what you expected.

Sleepy and all disheveled, with tangled hair, you stand up on your elbows. A soft, huge bed, a warm blanket and a couple of nice pillows surround you. A very expensive and rich interior that makes your eyes widen. Fear and shock, a momentary weakness, as you realize that you are not at home.

A raven caws on a gilded stand. But you don't turn to him, you ignore him.

You've been lost in dreams so often that you've already confused reality with dreams. However, now you are 100% sure. This is not a dream. Or...?

– Oh, good morning. How did you sleep? – The tenderest voice touched your ears when you turned your gaze to him. The one who was in your every dream.

It would seem that here he is! Your savior. Only something makes you anxious and start suspecting the whole situation.

It made you doubt if it was real. He sat on the side of the bed and looked at you with a pretty expression on his face until His wings fluttered behind his ears, as if he was rejoicing.

– Ahem. Sunday? I slept very well, but where are we? It doesn't look like my house.… And clearly not a dream. You ask furtively, looking around again.

"I'm glad to hear it, my angel. Feathered grins. – And you're in your new home. Trust me, you'll be better off with me, won't you? – gently touches your cheek with his gloved hand.

This news has unleashed a wave of fear in you, mixed with a wave of discontent. How could he decide anything for you? Your brows furrowed and you looked at him with a kind of contempt, pulling back the Galovian's hand.

– Excuse me? Should I ask? And if I don't want to? – You're grumbling.

– You were sleeping so soundly that it was a pity to wake you up. Sunday sang. – Think about it yourself. You felt so good with me in your dreams, so why don't you like the prospect of being together, but only in the real world? – silence follows.

– Moreover, every charming bird needs a cage. – He continues. "People like you are too weak to float freely in the big city. – his eyes are watching you closely, while you don't interrupt him.

– Understand, my love. Proper care is important for you, so that you The cruelty of the world did not destroy it. And the cage will be the most beautiful place where you will definitely be safe.

You're confused about what he's saying. It was completely ridiculous for you. Cells? A bird? Security? Weakness? Stupidity, that's all. You didn't answer him, all that followed from you was a languid silence. He smiled again and put a change of clothes next to you. A long snow-white shirt. It looks comfortable, even if it shines through just a little, the benefit of the lining saves.

Sunday got up from his seat and headed for the door. Gently grabbing the door handle and turning it 180 degrees, you hear his calm speech.

– You can be mad at me for as long as you want. I really don't understand why you would do that. Isn't it wonderful to live next to me? Someone who has power and wealth. Moreover, you will be able to forget about everything, because now every day will be like Paradise for you. A carefree life. His voice became quieter, almost a whisper that you could barely hear. "I have enough time to wait for you to come running into my arms." With that, the man left the room, leaving you alone.

Waking up in a new place has left you in turmoil. Everything happened too fast. He kidnapped you. But why doesn't some part of you feel very angry towards him? Why do you feel like this is the norm? You're fighting this disgusting feeling, because he did the wrong thing! An annoying croak pulls you out of the argument in your head.

Turning around, a black raven is sitting on the stand next to the bed, watching your every move.

You snort and still put on the shirt that Sunday gave you. It's worth living together, see what it all leads to. He's not going to keep you here forever, is he? However, his words about the cage and the bird can make you wary. Otherwise, you will try to escape yourself.

A push.

Your bodies are already at the limit. What kind of orgasm will it be? Like 4, and like 5. Alas, but your eyes are clouded, your body burns and aches terribly, your lower abdomen pulls, and your perineum pulsates and still adjusts to it, tingling in places. To some extent, you already regretted your escape. More precisely, a failed attempt. Now all that remains is to put up with your punishment. After all, Sunday was the most tired, working days exhaust him greatly, and then you arrange hide-and-seek for him.

Sex with a loved one is one of the best ways for him to relax and completely relax, giving himself all to his beloved and this carnal joy, despite his "angelic" personality.

– I won't do it anymore, honestly… Stop, please! – you beg, crying out mixed with groans, silently praying to all the Aeons for his condescension.

– Well, well. You haven't proved to me that you love me yet.… How can I believe you, silly? Sunday grins and whines, reveling in pain and pleasure.

He's ready to continue this torture until you learn your lesson. And besides, then it's unlikely that I'll be able to spend time with you like this.

You whimper wearily, clinging tightly to his shoulders, your fingers casually glide over pale skin, leaving delicate pinkish scratches, from which his wings twitch and tremble. Unable to bear it any longer, you wrap your legs around him yourself, pressing closer and allowing the feathered one to enter deeper. Another painful squeal escapes from your throat, tears that have long accumulated in the corners of your eyes roll down your cheeks. A desperate hope that Sunday will calm down and stop this.

– That's it. I know you love me, stop fighting your desires, it's so ridiculous to resist me. It's time for you to take me in and out. ...moss... - you hear muffled moans before his warm seed pours inside you and he presses you harder against the soft mattress of your bed.

The Galovian smiles at you tenderly and stops quietly, interrupting any movements inside you. He likes it. I like to feel how you squeeze him with your wet and hot walls, how your vagina pulsates around him and how close you are to climax. This excitement is tingling, now this feeling is not so pleasant, but it treacherously gives you both incredible pleasure.

You squeeze tighter around him, trembling all over, while your toes twitch scrupulously, the Galovian puts his thumb on your clitoris, circling on it, caressing so as to please you. Your hips shudder again, yielding to him and you involuntarily succumb to temptation. A loud moan bursts out of your chest, forcing you to twitch and close your eyes, instantly drowning in fleeting pleasure, while your consciousness once again covers orgasm. Your hands casually reach his head to bury themselves in Sunday's hair and feel the light breeze from the way the man's wings flutter. He leans even closer to you, you can feel that hot breath on your ear and involuntarily tense up.

"I think we're going to be great parents, my bird." – he whispers, kissing and sucking on your earlobe.

You're silent. You disperse the cloud of hatred towards your captor, finally coming to the conclusion that he is trying for you and you love him as much as he does. Your hands slide down to your neck and you hug his warm, wet body, sighing heavily from his actions.

A nod.

Sunday pulls away from you, slightly surprised, the wings also tense up before fluttering triumphantly again. A smile spread across the man's face. You accepted your situation the same way you accepted his. You stopped fighting him. It is unclear at what point, but your consciousness was covered so much that you could not think intelligently, but only agree with him. It's not too bad, is it? You're guessing.

When did you start feeling something about him? Who knows. It is likely that this happened in dreams. Then he was a prince on a white horse for you, until he put you in a golden cage, where now, at his request, you will have to give birth to his child. Whether you want it or not, there is no choice. Even if it didn't happen now, it would definitely happen later. I just delayed the inevitable in that case.

And now. You have a couple of months to try to escape again before it's too late. Or kill the fetus. But do you want it?

The answer is short. — no.

– I love you, my baby bird. Sunday hums, kissing your temple and stroking your lower abdomen, smiling slightly.

#honkai sr #honkai star rail #hsr #yandere x y/n #yandere honkai star rail #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere #sunday hsr #sunday honkai star rail #sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday x y/n #star rail #hsr x you #stockhom syndrome #sunday headcanons #honkai

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hobnob2020 · 8 months ago

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Lucanis Romance

Spoilers so please don't read unless you've finished the game

Lucanis was always going to be my first romance and he was the reason I went from my initial choice of Shadow Dragon to becoming a Crow and I wasn't disappointed.

But the reason I'm writing this review is because again people are moaning about how "little or poorly done" his romance was.

So a few points I'd like to point out are as follows;

Firstly people can have their opinions but I would like to remind everyone that his talented writer was fired and then rewrites were done for the game so who knows what got changed last minute for his character.

Secondly, he has been imprisoned for an entire year, been tortured and possessed, essentially having his mind broken because he didn't want to submit.

Thirdly his city is on the very edge of being destroyed.

And lastly Rook tells him they were sent by his grandmother who he loves dearly only to find upon his return that shes dead. He can also see that there's something wrong with Illario someone he sees more of a brother but is fighting him every chance he gets in order to point him in the opposite direction lest he realises he's the traitor.

With his grandmother's death it leaves the uncertainty of who gets first Talon as its a position he never wanted thus making the Crows weak as there's no clear leadership.

So please forgive him for not jumping into Rooks bed straight away.

His romance is very slow and after the first 2 or 3 flirty prompts I got I did wonder if I went wrong because he was giving me nothing back.

Until we got to that scene in the pantry where he says she deserves better than his mess 🥵

Jumping towards the end of the game for a second he says that he wanted her but was too afraid to want her and it's clear when you express your interests in the previous scene he likes you, also if you visit him after he does trip over his words and says he wants, but can't.

His body language, the way he smiles, the voice, the animation of him looking at your lips when you touch his chest is just perfection only to pull away at the last second to clear his head because again he's traumatised and hasn't dealt with his inner demon, the self doubt and torture that swirls around his head.

Then we get to the heart of his personal quest, when the body of Zara reveals she was Illarios lover and it was his greed for First talon that lead him to be captured and aswell as his grandmother's 'death'.

Let's not forget he's also by this point nearly tried to kill Illario for getting in the way so again fears losing control and likely hurting Rook.

Moving onto possibly my favourite companion quest of the game we end up in the fade, inside Lucanis' mind with Spite. It's simply tragic how tortured he is inside his mind, the way he sees himself through the eyes of another especially his grandmother is so sad.

Illario is the antoganiser in his head, cruelly bringing up the history of the Dellemortes family and the massacre that wiped all but 3 people. By saying Lucanis will kill his family for a job he doesn't want just twists the situation to make it feel that Lucanis has always been tainted and that the Demon was already inside him but Rook just denys this by saying he's a professional assassin, that he's basically not a mindless killer and knows the real enemy, that his loved ones won't be hurt only the one responsible and that when he needs to do it she'll be there for him.

The romance prompt that comes after shows how vulnerable he is around her, asking her to leave him there so he doesn't risk losing her and then she basically mentions what I've written so far, about his fear of moving forward as an abominantion and hurting his family is worse than any of the torture and pain he went through; so again people just need to realise this man is so messed up and protective to the few people he has left in his life and doesn't want to hurt the one person desperately trying to help him.

After you make the decision on stopping Illario or saving Caterina where Spite and Lucanis agree to work together you get that wonderful awkward moment where the two of them are just standing silently infront of Viago and Teia which is hilarious if you play as a crow because I imagine Viago is tired of Rooks weird shit by this point 😂

I like the fact that she doesn't speak of Spite or Lucanis' fears, that what they've just experienced is for them only.

Their commitment scene is really sweet but I wish it had like an extra scene where they're sat at the dinner table and the other companions could see something had shifted between them, that they tease about feeling the love in the hazelnut tarte making the two of them bashful, you know just something a little extra but it's not the end of the world left as it is.

When they eventually crash Illarios party and find Caterina all of his fears are put to rest where she excitedly greets him, even going so far as to kiss his cheeks showing how much she loves and missed him.

When the fight occurs and he embraces Spite fully and fights off Illarios hold there's such a proud moment when you're watching him, because he has his grandmother back, Rook at his side and the Crow houses watching on as Illarios lies are exposed.

During the fight when Illario fights Rook he tells her she's chosen the wrong Dellemorte and if he does hit her Lucanis tells him he's going to pay, it's just the simple things like this that make me love Dragon age games.

When the fight is over and he asks if they should make an early exit and return home i was expecting a first kiss as it just seemed right with him saying he'll stay for her and put off the crows as long as he possibly can.

I definitely think he has one of the stronger romances towards the end of the game, when he says he'll kill every blighted creature and the gods that stand in her way and she says that she won't be thinking of that all day just made me smile.

Their actual sex scene is beautifully done too, the fact he kneels for her, the animation and responses are great, even the humorous option is really good and there's no doubt how much he loves her.

I think what people have to remember is he's terrified of losing control which is why he hides away in the pantry, he nearly kills Illario in a fit of rage and just can't face hurting Rook which is why after the near kiss he says he wants her but can't.

It's been confirmed that Spite is obsessed with Rook so you can only imagine the inner battle and what he says about Rook on a daily basis, also the fact he can't control the wings of Spite so having them during their sex scene just shows how much she means to both of them.

I am gutted about the recent art released and that we missed out on the kiss in the rain, the gondola and sex scene in the pool but this is why fanciction exists.

I think his VA did a wonderful job and he's definitely my favourite and most interesting companion.

*I'm not going to comment on his other romance because saying anything negative about her triggers people which is just insane, I don't care that characters pair off and I don't find their banter particularly flirty but it should of happened once Rook hadn't committed to either of them just like Fenris and Isabella did which wouldn't have annoyed so many people, but that's an easy fix. Just don't bring them along together 😂*

#dragon age 4 #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age #da4 #dragon age spoilers #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis x rook #dragon age lucanis

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dyns33 · 2 years ago

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Feeling rainy

Another Dream x female reader

“Honey, you look cloudy today. No, rainy."

"I confirm, he is very rainy at the moment."

"Matthew. Leave us."

"Right away, boss. But I'm sick of being wet all the time when I fly in the Dreaming, thank you very much."

It had taken a little time, but during their relationship, Y/N had acquired several certainties about Morpheus, especially about his mood.

The master of nightmares was not very good at expressing his feelings. Mainly because he didn't always know them himself. Partly because he was stupid and not very good with people.

His emotions were like a storm inside him. And therefore, a storm inside the Dreaming, especially when he was nervous, angry or sad.

Happy or neutral sentiments were preferable, with the sky remaining blue, the sun lighting up the whole realm, and the wind seeming to sing melodies.

Sometimes it was a little too hot, when he was in love and excited, but that was no big deal. Also, it never lasted very long.

Like the weather, Morpheus' mood was changing very quickly, and very easily.

And even though he was doing his best to hide his feelings behind a straight face, the Dreaming never left any doubt that something was bothering him.

"Is it because of last night ?" Y/N asked calmly.

"I don't wish to talk about it, love."

"Not even to please me ? I don't like it when you rain, especially because of me."

"... It's not because of you. I probably overreacted."

"Kind of like always, darling, but that doesn't mean your feelings aren't valid. Do you want a hug ?"

"... Maybe."

The tall, terrible prince of the stories certainly didn't like being seeing as weak, but when Dream was in Y/N's arms, he looked like a cat desperately trying not to purr with pleasure, totally at her mercy.

It wasn't a problem since they were alone, but dreams and nightmares guessed what was going on, as the clouds disappeared and a rainbow formed over their heads.

"She has to cuddle him all the time."

"Hush."

"Merv is right. I may be his more or less emotional raven, but he clearly needs her as an emotional human."

"Get out of my library."

All of this could have gone quite well, since Y/N had managed to decode the functioning of the Dreaming, and therefore of Dream, but sometimes he was visibly lost and upset by her emotions, not knowing how to help her, and beginning to feel them with her.

Which was not a good thing, for him, nor for his kingdom.

Y/N therefore asked for advice around her, knowing that it was useless to ask Morpheus directly. Morpheus never really answered questions. That being said, his subjects weren't necessarily better for it.

Lucienne, loyal intelligent Lucienne advised her to speak to the Lord, as communication was important, although she had to be careful how she wanted to express what she wanted to say, as the Lord could misunderstand things.

Merv and Matthew thought that they should say nothing and just cover him with kisses and compliments so that he would always be happy. Because everyone wanted him to be happy, and everyone loved rainbows.

The Corinthian had a different opinion.

"You have to do exactly like him." he declared with three huge smiles.

"What do you mean, like him ?"

"You want to help him by doing anything so that he doesn't get overwhelmed by emotions ? So don't show any emotion yourself. Keep them inside, act neutral, use a monotonous voice, express your love with ridiculously complicated little sentences, and it will be perfect."

Normally, it would have been strongly discouraged to listen to a nightmare. But despite their bickering, the Corinthian was arguably one of the creations that knew Morpheus best, so Y/N thought it wasn't a bad idea.

After all, Dream was a bit like a sponge. Absorbing all the dreamers' hopes, fears, desires, emotions, and though he was a separate being who felt distinctly, he couldn't completely cut himself off from the rest of the world.

So it seemed logical that he was sometimes troubled by others, and therefore by Y/N, with whom he spent the most time.

It didn't cost much to imitate him. It wasn't necessarily easy, but she could do it, for him, so it wouldn't be rainy or stormy too often.

So she trained in front of a mirror, doing her best to remain impassive as she thought about a joke, her deceased grandfather, an adorable kitten, her boss whom she wanted to strangle, and lots of things that never left her indifferent.

Part of her had thought Morpheus wouldn't notice. Another hoped he would see it, that he would be happy, and that she could smile to herself.

While they were watching her favorite movie together, a funny scene played out and she didn't react. Then another, and another, until Y/N felt that Dream's attention was no longer on the screen, but on her.

"My love, you seem distant."

"Not at all. I'm enjoying a pleasant evening, with you." she said with a neutral tone.

"... You didn't laugh. Would you like to see another movie ?"

"No, I like this movie. You weren't laughing either, do you want to change ?"

"I never laugh."

"Because you're too melancholic to find aything funny ?"

"... No. My laughter... I was informed that my laughter could be frightening."

Y/N then turned to him, and at that moment, she almost smiled, finding the revelation ridiculous and adorable, wanting to hear that laughter that her lover was so ashamed of, out of curiosity, but above all to reassure him.

Except that for that, she would have to show emotions, and make him feel emotions, and the goal was to remain as neutral as possible, so Y/N forced herself to remain neutral, looking at him straight in the eyes so that he knew that she was serious, while looking for the right wording.

"I'm sure your laugh is sweet." was the best thing that came to her, patting Morpheus' hand, before watching the movie again.

There were many other moments like this, at the New Inn, at the park, in the Dreaming, and Y/N really thought that everything was fine, that she was doing a good job. The weather seemed calm, with a few distant clouds, but no storms in sight.

Still, there was something in Morpheus' eyes when he looked at her. Curiosity mixed with fear. She didn't dare tell him about it, thinking it was nothing, and he didn't tell her either.

Until Matthew came to visit her as she was getting ready to go to sleep.

"I don't know if I should ask you to go to bed quickly, or advise you to stay awake."

"Why ? What's going on ? Morpheus is in trouble ?!"

"Uh... That depends. Is everything okay between you two ?"

"Yes, perfectly fine. Why ?" she asked, suddenly worried.

"I don't know. It's foggy at the moment. We've had a few rains, a few tornadoes, but Lucienne managed to calm it down. Except that... Hmm... I don't know if I should say it."

"Matthew."

"He thinks you don't love him anymore." sighed the raven, lowering his head.

The news hit Y/N straight to the heart. For a moment, she wondered how Dream could have come to such a conclusion. Then she remembered how Dream was, his difficulties in understanding people, emotions, and even if he himself didn't often show what he felt, he clearly needed others to show him.

For a month, Y/N thought to make him happy. For a month, Morpheus thought she wanted to leave him.

"... This is a terrible misunderstanding."

"Glad to hear that. Can you tell him, please ?"

Falling asleep when stressed might take a while, but Y/N needed to see Morpheus quickly, so she closed her eyes thinking hard about him, and she arrived on the balcony of his palace.

It was raining.

Obviously, Matthew had come to see her before Lucienne went to speak to her master.

Dream stood in the rain, motionless, watching his realm. He didn't move when she came close to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I love you, you know that ?" she asked shyly.

"I hope so."

"In wanting to please you, I made a mistake. Your mood changes so easily, you can be so fragile, so sensitive."

"I'm not fragile." he muttered, continuing to stare into the distance.

"You are, but that's neither an insult nor the question. I thought... The Corinthian told me that if I don't show my emotions, I won't upset you with them and that you I would be happy. I wanted to help, really. Since you know that I love you, I imagined that it wouldn't change anything. It would be inside, like for you. Sorry."

Finally, Dream turned to her, looking surprised and solemn. He stared at her for a long time, before taking a deep breath.

"I see. So you made several mistakes, indeed."

"Dream..."

"You listened to the Corinthian, a nightmare."

"I know."

"You thought it would be good for you to keep your emotions inside, like me. Knowing that my emotions are never really inside, but entirely outside, in the Dreaming, while you should keep your storms in your little heart."

"I get it, I..."

"And you believed that I would like you to deprive me of your smile. Of your laughter. That you hide your sadness from me, which I could erase with kisses. Your anger, which I could appease with poems. Your love, which I carry in my chest. All this to make me happy ?"

So Morpheus did something that Y/N hadn't imagined.

He laughed.

And like he said, his laugh was a little scary. Inhuman. A sound that mortals weren't supposed to hear, that no one was supposed to hear. But he was laughing, and he was smiling, and he came over to kiss her, and Y/N thought she liked that sound a lot.

"My love, your emotions, all your emotions, are my joy. Do not hide them from me."

"Okay. But promise me you'll tell me when it's rainy, and why."

"Very well."

"And I was right, your laugh is very sweet."

"Yeah, I guess love makes you blind and deaf."

"Matthew. Leave us."

"Yes, boss. Glad it's not raining anymore."

Indeed, the sun had returned as he spoke, a bright sun, and even if the weather could never be perfect, like their relationship, Y/N would do everything to make Morpheus as bright as possible.

#The Sandman #dream of the endless #dream of the endless x reader #dream of the endless imagine #dream of the endless fanfiction #morpheus #morpheus x reader #morpheus fanfiction

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onegayastronaut · 6 months ago

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A Mother's Embrace

Requested by anon: May I ask you for a favor? I'm a huge fan of black panther, and it's really special to me because it's the movie that convinced me to leave my abuser and helped prevent me from harming myself. Ramonda became My "fictional mom" and I'm kinda having a pretty rough time right now. My ex came back Into my life without my permission, and I ended up in the hospital as a result. Where I am now. Could you maybe write me something with Ramonda and a F reader , where Ramonda takes on a mother role and keeps her safe from her ex girlfriend? And offers comfort and encouragement? I'm sorry if this is dumb. I'm just at a low point.

Words: 1327

The Wakandan palace was a place of unmatched beauty—its towering spires, intricate carvings, and vibrant gardens offered a sense of peace that was unmatched by anywhere else in the world. But for you, it had become more than just a marvel of architecture. It was your sanctuary, your refuge. And in its heart, you had found something even more unexpected: a mother’s love.

It had been months since you fled from the clutches of your ex-girlfriend, a woman whose charm had once been magnetic but whose cruelty had slowly drained you of your spirit. At first, the relationship had been perfect, or so it seemed. Her words were sweet, her touch tender. But over time, the facade cracked, revealing control masked as care and manipulation disguised as love. By the time you realized what was happening, you felt trapped.

When you arrived in Wakanda, you carried with you the weight of that relationship—the fear, the self-doubt, the wounds both visible and invisible. Shuri had been the first to notice the shadows in your eyes. Ever perceptive, the princess approached you one evening as you sat alone in the gardens, staring at the horizon with a vacant expression.

“Are you all right?” she had asked, her tone gentle but probing.

You’d forced a smile, nodding quickly. “I’m fine, just tired.”

But Shuri wasn’t convinced. Over the following days, she’d kept an eye on you, offering small acts of kindness—a warm drink, an invitation to work on one of her projects, or simply sitting with you in silence. It was through her that Queen Ramonda learned of your plight.

The first time you met Ramonda, truly met her beyond formalities, was during a quiet afternoon in her private chambers. Shuri had gently nudged you toward the meeting, promising it would help.

“My mother has a way of making things better,” she’d said with a knowing smile. “Trust me.”

You’d been nervous, hesitant to burden someone of Ramonda’s stature with your troubles. But the moment you stepped into her chambers, her presence enveloped you like a warm embrace. She sat gracefully by the window, sunlight casting a golden halo around her silver hair. When she turned to look at you, her gaze was soft yet commanding, as if she could see straight into your soul.

“Come, child,” she beckoned, patting the seat beside her. “Let us talk.”

And talk you did. Slowly, hesitantly at first, but as the words began to flow, so did the tears. You told her everything—the highs and lows, the fear and pain, the struggle to leave, and the lingering scars that refused to heal. Ramonda listened intently, never interrupting, her expression a mix of compassion and quiet fury on your behalf.

When you finished, she reached out, taking your trembling hands in hers. “You are brave for leaving,” she said firmly. “Never doubt that. It takes great strength to walk away from what harms you, even when your heart tries to convince you otherwise.”

Her words struck a chord deep within you. For so long, you’d felt weak, broken. But in that moment, you began to see yourself through her eyes—not as a victim, but as a survivor.Over the weeks that followed, Ramonda took you under her wing. She was a steady presence in your life, offering comfort and guidance without ever making you feel like a burden. Her wisdom became a beacon, helping you navigate the tumultuous waters of healing.

“Healing is not linear, my dear,” she told you one evening as you sat together in the palace library. “Some days will feel like progress, and others will feel like you are back where you started. But each step, no matter how small, is still a step forward.”

On particularly hard days, when the memories threatened to overwhelm you, Ramonda was there to anchor you. She’d hold your hand, her touch grounding, and remind you of your strength. “You have endured so much,” she’d say. “But you are still here. That is something to be proud of.”

It wasn’t just her words that helped, but her actions. She ensured you felt safe within the palace walls, surrounding you with people who cared for you. When your ex attempted to contact you, Ramonda took immediate action. With the full authority of the Wakandan throne, she made it clear that no harm would come to you under her protection.

“You are part of this family now,” she declared. “And no one threatens my family.”

The weight of her words brought tears to your eyes. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt truly safe.

As the days turned to weeks, you began to find pieces of yourself that you thought had been lost. Ramonda encouraged you to explore your passions, to rediscover the things that brought you joy. She’d sit with you as you painted, her presence a quiet reassurance, or join you in the gardens where you’d spend hours tending to the flowers.

“There is healing in creation,” she told you one day as you worked together to plant a row of vibrant blooms. “Each seed you sow, each brushstroke you make, is a reminder that you are building something new.”

Her encouragement extended beyond emotional support. She urged you to find your voice again, to reclaim your agency. When you expressed doubt in your abilities, she was quick to dispel them.

“Do not let the words of someone who sought to diminish you define your worth,” she said. “You are capable of far more than you realize. And you have an entire kingdom behind you to remind you of that.”

It was during one quiet evening in her chambers that you realized just how much Ramonda had come to mean to you. You’d been plagued by a particularly vivid nightmare, one that left you shaken and unable to sleep. Without thinking, you found yourself at her door, hesitant but desperate for comfort.

She opened the door almost immediately, her expression softening when she saw your tear-streaked face. Without a word, she pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly as you sobbed into her shoulder.

“You are safe,” she whispered, her voice steady and soothing. “No one will hurt you here.”

She led you to the sofa, wrapping a warm blanket around you before sitting beside you. As you leaned against her, she began to hum a soft, melodic tune. The sound was comforting, like a lullaby, and gradually your breathing steadied.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “For everything.”

She placed a gentle hand on your cheek, her eyes meeting yours. “You do not need to thank me, my dear. It is a mother’s duty to protect and nurture her children. And you are as much my child as Shuri or T’Challa.”

Her words broke something open within you, and for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to truly believe that you were worthy of love and care.

Under Ramonda’s guidance, you continued to heal, to grow. The memories of your past still lingered, but they no longer held the same power over you. With each passing day, you felt stronger, more sure of yourself.

Ramonda’s pride in your progress was evident. “Look at you,” she said one day as you stood before her, ready to present a project you’d been working on with Shuri. “You are blossoming, my dear. Never forget how far you’ve come.”

Her words stayed with you, a constant reminder of the strength you’d found within yourself—a strength that had been nurtured by the unwavering love of a queen who had become your mother in every way that mattered.

And as you looked out over the Wakandan skyline, the sun setting in a blaze of gold and crimson, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it with the courage and resilience that Ramonda had helped you rediscover.

#ramonda #ramonda x reader #ramonda imagine #black panther #black panther x reader #black panther imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel x you #mcu #mcu x reader #mcu imagine

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yuma-mukami-garden-god · 2 months ago

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Reiji x s/o that is responsible and mature, basically a mirror of him, who was parentified at a young age and never truly got to be a kid to get to know themselves as a person. They’re the only one that can keep up with Reiji’s rigid expectations, though they often hide parts of themselves they don’t know they had to do it. Overall, a person with people pleasing tendencies that hides their emotions.

Glass Masks

Reiji Sakamaki was a man who demanded excellence—and you delivered it with the same precision and poise he upheld in every breath, every gesture. Where others failed to meet his standards, you never wavered. You rose with the sun, kept the mansion in order, held intelligent conversations, and moved with grace that even he couldn’t help but admire.

He never had to explain himself to you. You anticipated his needs before they were voiced. You understood structure, discipline, and silence better than anyone. To him, you were efficient, composed… perfect.

But perfection came at a price.

You had been parentified young—forced into the role of the caretaker, the fixer, the grown-up while still a child. There was no room for tantrums, no space for vulnerability. You learned quickly that emotions were burdens, needs were weaknesses, and being loved meant being useful. And so, you molded yourself into someone who could survive—then thrive—by pleasing everyone. Even Reiji.

Especially Reiji.

Tonight, like every night, you sat beside him in the library, the only sound being the rustle of pages turning and the soft crackle of fire. You read, back straight, expression unreadable. You could feel his eyes drift to you occasionally, but you didn’t look up. You were tired—bone-deep, soul-tired—but you couldn't show it. He expected refinement. Poise. Composure.

"You're unusually quiet this evening," Reiji remarked, his voice cutting cleanly through the silence.

You smiled politely, the kind of smile that didn’t touch your eyes. "I suppose I’m simply focused."

Reiji narrowed his eyes, and you felt the weight of his gaze fully settle on you.

"You’ve been… reserved, even by your standards. You’re always composed, but tonight it feels almost like you’ve disappeared."

Your fingers clenched slightly around the edge of the book. "I didn’t think you’d notice."

"I notice everything," he replied sharply, setting his own book down. "And I find myself concerned. You hide your emotions so well I doubt you remember how to show them."

You flinched. Not visibly, not enough for most to see—but Reiji saw it.

"I'm fine," you said, and the lie tasted familiar, too practiced.

Reiji stood and crossed the room. You didn’t move, didn’t look up. You could feel something shifting in the air—subtle, but palpable.

“You are exceptional,” he said softly, standing just behind your chair. “More than anyone I’ve ever met. You match me stride for stride, challenge me intellectually, bring order where others bring chaos. But you exhaust yourself to meet standards I never asked you to bleed for.”

You inhaled, just a little too sharply.

"You didn’t have to ask," you whispered. "I needed to be enough. I have to be enough. If I fail… I don’t know who I am when I’m not being useful."

He moved in front of you then, kneeling so you couldn’t avoid his eyes. They were dark and unreadable, but not cold. There was something else in them tonight—concern, maybe. Understanding.

"You are not just useful. You are not a tool or a mirror or a shadow of me," Reiji said, voice lower now. "You are a person. And I fear… you’ve forgotten how to be one."

Your breath hitched, the walls you’d so carefully built trembling under the weight of his words. No one had ever seen you—not really. Not the child who never got to play, the teenager who silenced every cry, the adult who never stopped performing.

"I don’t know how to stop," you admitted, your voice cracking.

"Then let me help you remember." Reiji reached out and took your hand—steady, warm, grounding. "Let’s learn it together."

In that moment, something cracked quietly inside you—not in a way that shattered, but in a way that made room for light.

And for the first time in years, you let yourself cry. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just enough for the tears to slide down your cheeks, the dam to break. And Reiji didn’t flinch, didn’t scold or lecture. He simply held your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles as he let you feel.

Not perfectly. But truthfully.

And that… was enough.

#asks open #anon asks #anime and manga #diabolik boys #diabolik lovers #diaboys #dialovers #littlehoeart #reiji sakamaki

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icedroppedinparasolcider · 1 year ago

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sometimes i think about kanade and tsukasa running into each other at the hospital before the main stories started. kanade going to visit her father, tsukasa visiting saki. them seeing each other in the waiting room every so often, just sitting alone until visiting hours start. sometimes tsukasa would be with his parents, sometimes he wouldn't, but kanade would always be alone.

maybe at some point tsukasa tries to go over to kanade to talk to her, give her company. never prying into who she's visiting, he knows better—she always arrives alone, there's only so many things this can be—but probably just having a chat with her about school, maybe a show he'd seen recently, telling her stories about saki. i doubt kanade would say much in response, but he wouldn't need her to, wouldn't ask her to. he's just there to make the wait a little more bearable, give her day something to smile about despite the circumstance. i doubt they would even learn each other's names, unless they overhear nurses calling out to them that they're clear to visit.

it's just. the way, even if the circumstances are immensely different, they're not alone in this. having family stuck in a hospital, only ever able to see them while they're weak and struggling. it's not like saki doesn't recognise tsukasa, or that kanade's father has a history of going in and out of the hospital. and obviously the roles these two play in their lives are vastly different, aside from the fact they're the reasons they pursue their passion. but it's still a fact there's someone else there, someone the same age, who shares in this experience. in this fear of their family never getting better, this loneliness born from that pain. it doesn't give any kind of path out, but simply having someone who understands helps make it more bearable. and that's something both tsukasa and kanade needed during this time, before the main stories.

which probably makes it all the more bittersweet when saki is discharged. tsukasa managed to get out, was certainly there to walk saki out, and if kanade happened to be visiting her father on that same day... her giving tsukasa a smile and a wave goodbye as they walk out, not saying a word so this moment isn't ruined for him, before being left alone once again. happy that someone got out of this, but left without anyone who can be there with her anymore. completely alone once more. not that she would express that; it'd be selfish of kanade to ruin such a happy moment for someone else.

#project sekai #pjsk #kanade yoisaki #tsukasa tenma #i've been thinking about kanade a lot lately #she needs more friends and i think tsukasa would help her so much

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lieut-john-irving · 2 months ago

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Part 1 of Kingston's correspondence to Malcolm about Irving — A letter dated December 12th 1836 with concerns about John's wellbeing.

Through Kingston’s letters, there is such valuable and intimate insight into John's friendships, character, and how all of these people that made an appearance in John's letters interacted with each other outside of them. I find it truly touching - and often tragic - that George and William would regularly talk about John in their own personal letters, asking how he is or if the other has heard from him. They all appear to have cared for and worried about each other a great deal, and this letter is a perfect example of that.

To start, I'd like to express how thankful I am for the help of @parhelios in transcribing some details I could not! They have also posted a wonderful analytical interpretation of the letter that you can find at the end of this post!

Transcription (to the best of our abilities - feel free to comment suggestions for unknown words and clunky sentences), context, and photos under the cut:

[…] I am sorry to say I cannot answer your enquiries respecting Irving insomuch as I have not seen him since we parted at Vourla, nor have I had a letter from him since he left [the harbour/that island] to go home until the other day when I received a [hasty note] merely apologising for his negligence in not writing before and a brief account of what he was employing himself. Painful it must be to judge or cast a suspicion upon one who has always held so high a place in my estimation as John Irving. Yet nevertheless I fear he never seemed to (be) fully aware of the difficulties the Christian has to contend with both from the world without and his own corruptions within, nor did he seem fully to appreciate the necessity of constant watchfulness prayer and self [ever insinuation/association?]. The sight of Redeeming Love imparted to him at first and the consequent captivity of his affections and desires as to the will of God were so strong that he hence inferred these desires. This ardent love would now leave him and that nothing more would be required than to go on his way rejoicing. Though we have the promise of [these/him?] who [can/came nor] lie that he will ever leave us nor [forget/follow] us, yet I [striked through: I have suffer] must remember that if we willfully neglect him we may weary out his patience and at last by judicial hardness entirely exculpate the almighty from the charge of leaving us. Past experience, however cheering, can never with safety be looked upon as an [earnest/earmark] of our present [holding] the warfare ceases with death only never may we [relent] our vigilance until [striked through: John’s] in death we gain the [reward]. Irving has met with grievous disappointments in many of his friends and he may have hence [had/since] [recovered/reconciled/returned] to the natural [recount] of disappointments - a distress of everyone that has not by long experience proved his fidelity. I consider this one of his weaknesses which I am in hopes time will crack. His last note not so much as touched on the religious condition of [name?] for who he had for some time entertained hopes. That solicitude for a Friend’s welfare will often entertain doubts and fears without detracting from itself. […]

(I know the letters are weirdly cropped here, but I assure you they're in the correct order. I cropped it since the rest of the letter is not about John):

Source: Acc.6684/15 National Library of Scotland

For the context of John’s mindset here - and why Kingston and Malcolm are concerned about him - this letter is dated between his own letters of November 4th 1836 (Malta) and January 17th 1837 (Portsmouth), where John expresses his deep loneliness ('I want you and Kingston sadly'), bad-habits, and boredom at sea, with his main hopes focused on visiting Malcolm at Cambridge and reminiscing the happiness of their friendship trio (the famous back-ride on the beach included). As always, Bell's book of John’s already published letters can be found either on the Internet Archive or the Arctonauts' blogpage for free.

Please feel free to figure out the missing words or suggest better ones in the transcription! Kingston's handwriting is usually quite easy to read but this letter is pretty tricky! AND if you have your own interpretations I'd love to hear about them, feel free to share those too!

@parhelios' interpretation analysis:

And lastly, I found that Bell omitted part of John's November 4th letter. I will get that uploaded and transcribed as soon as possible, and perhaps it will provide more context for this letter in turn too.

Thank you for reading!

#john irving #the terror #franklin expedition #william elphinstone malcolm #george templeman kingston

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snowfieldstories · 5 months ago

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In Life and Death [Chapter 2]

Kim Dokja x Reader/Original female character

In Life and Death Masterlist

Warnings: strong violence, language, mentions of suspected sexual assault

Summary:

In which a reader finds herself tossed into the pages of her favorite web novel after her untimely death. A novel of a novel within reality. It's a reader's dream, right? Well, this reader vows to bring the right ending to the one and only, Kim Dokja. She will give him the happiest of endings. Or she will die trying.

⚠️MAJOR SPOILERS FOR ORV WEB NOVEL AND MANHWA!!!!⚠️

Episode III. Chapter 2 — A Ruined World: Round Two

I woke to a splitting headache, certain that Yoo Joonghyuk had caused permanent damage to the tender bits of my brain.

"She's awake!" said Sangah as I stirred. A hand gently brushed the hair from my face. "Here, Choi Yeona, drink this."

She held a bottle to my lips so I could sip at the cool water. I coughed and sat up properly on the bench. "Dokja?"

Sangah shook her head. "Still missing. But that guy said he should return any day now."

I didn't need to ask who that guy was.

A ping! alerted me to a long series of unread constellation messages that had built up since I fell unconscious, but I closed the window. Constellations were not my concern right now.

I looked around the groups of people in the station, those that huddled in despair and those that lounged unafraid with various weapons at their sides, but I couldn't spot an uptight asshole wearing all-black.

"He left after dumping you here," Sangah said as she noticed my searching. "You've been out since yesterday."

I caught a tremble in her voice and turned to regard her properly. Sangah wasn't looking at me, but at her fingers, covered in gashes and crusted with dirt and blood. I took those hands in one of my own.

"Yoo Sangah," I said.

Sangah was someone I really admired from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint. Someone I wanted to be like and to have as a friend, a sister. It was the reason my first application of 'Sacred Light' was designed after Sangah's skill. But it also made it hard to approach her: a companion out of my league. Yoo Sangah intimidated me.

Looking at her now, an untouchable person now filled with self-doubt and fear—suddenly Sangah felt tangible. The desire to be close with her surged through me. "Thank you for your help. Thank you for taking care of me."

"I really didn't do much." Her voice was small.

"I'm alive and well, aren't I?"

She gave me a weak smile. "That's debatable."

"Trust me, I've been worse. This is nothing."

Concern crossed her expression. Then we both turned at the sound of footsteps pounding closer.

A small figure pressed into my side, clasping my free hand in theirs. "Noona, you're finally alright."

I chuckled at Lee Gilyoung's attachment, but the laughter died in my throat as I realized the boy was not hugging me out of joy, but gloom.

Gilyoung was teary as his grip grew tighter. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe. I couldn't protect you from that guy."

I twisted my arm to draw him closer to me. "Silly. I said I would protect you."

Gilyoung shook his head and buried his face into my armpit. Uh, okay, it probably stinks in there.

While comforting Gilyoung, I looked around for the others from our party. Han Myungoh was, predictably, sitting with members of Cheon Inho's group. He was quiet and seemed uncomfortable. Lee Hyunsung smiled in relief when we locked eyes, but he remained at his watchful post by the pillar. Which only left...

"Where's Kim Namwoon?"

Sangah's pretty mouth puckered. "Ah, he's off with—"

"Good. You're up."

Yoo Joonghyuk strode inside. An elated Kim Namwoon trailed behind, and he smiled and waved a big knife when he saw me. I lightly shook Gilyoung as Joonghyuk stopped right in front of us, hand on his sword.

His sword? He must have already collected the spoils in the cave Dokja would get Unbroken Faith from.

Hyunsung came to stand nearby, as did Sangah, as if ready to spring into action at the first sign of trouble.

I scowled and rubbed the back of my head. "That hurt like a bitch, you know."

Joonghyuk ignored my words and tugged me up and away from Gilyoung's side. "We're going now."

"Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

The gall of this man. One punch, just one punch.

"I'm not going anywhere with you. In fact, you should stay here with us." The nods of agreement from Sangah and Hyunsung quickly froze at my last words.

"No."

"Then I'm not going."

Joonghyuk and I entered a standoff of glares. His was, unfortunately, much harsher and more practiced than mine.

Underneath his unforgiving gaze now, I was thankful that my information was blocked to protect against his Sage's Eye. Joonghyuk was the type to kill an outlier like me. But it did leave me with a rather odd question.

"Why didn't you just kidnap me while I was unconscious?"

"I'm not kidnapping you." I lifted a brow. Joonghyuk glowered, and then huffed. He jerked his chin forwards. "That brat."

I turned to follow his eyes to...not Gilyoung, but a still-smiling Kim Namwoon sitting crisscrossed on the grimy floor. He bowed his head quickly. It echoed the train; the politeness of the act was rather spooky.

"You should get to decide what you do next, angel-noona," Namwoon said.

My heart swelled in my chest at the familiar name. "Angel?"

"You're a ruthless angel," he said in a dreamy voice, as if recalling a happy memory. "You bring death but also hope. It feels kind. And you are too beautiful for this world. Oh, and your golden light! It glows, and it's powerful, and so cool..." He babbled on about 'Sacred Light' and the way I'd roughed him up on the train and how he hoped I'd do it again.

There really was too much to unpack from Namwoon's declaration. I settled on a murmured word of thanks and regarded Joonghyuk curiously.

I think I understood. Joonghyuk strongly desired Namwoon as an ally, and probably wanted Lee Hyunsung too but it looked like the soldier was remaining loyal to the ones that had saved him. Joonghyuk must be all the more willing to appease Namwoon in order to keep him around.

"I won't leave Dokja behind," I said at last.

Honestly, I wouldn't mind joining Joonghyuk, even if he was an asshole at the moment and didn't remember me, but on this matter I would not compromise. Already, the strain of not knowing Dokja's precise whereabouts or wellbeing was beginning to wear at me.

"Your puppet will be fine."

I balled my fists. "He is not a puppet! He's my friend, not that you would know anything about those."

Joonghyuk eyed me, tapping his fingers on the hilt of his sword. Then he sighed through his nose. "We need to talk. But not here."

It was so simple and honest, that I felt my defenses weaken at once. I glanced at Sangah and Hyunsung, both with equally apprehensive looks on their faces. They weren't going to like this. "Alright I'll go, but only after Dokja returns."

Joonghyuk rolled his eyes. "Fine."

"And I go as far as Chungmuro with you. Then I rejoin my group."

"...Fine."

This Joonghyuk was strangely—well, compliant, for lack of a better word. He certainly wasn't this agreeable with Dokja in the novel. I was a bit uneasy with the idea that my presence might have changed something as drastic as Joonghyuk's initial personality in this round.

"I'll join you!" Namwoon said brightly from behind.

I was about to agree, when Joonghyuk shook his head. "You'll stay here, Kim Namwoon."

"What? Why?" My questions went unanswered as Joonghyuk moved to a pillar and sat back against it, immediately polishing his sword. Alright, maybe not entirely agreeable.

Unable—and unwilling—to solve the mystery that was Yoo Joonghyuk's mind, I went to my group to assure them of the new plan. They didn't like it, but they trusted in me (excepting Gilyoung, who immediately began to mope that I was choosing to "run away with that sooty bastard!").

It was more than I could ask after only a few days together.

I was glad Joonghyuk stuck around for a bit. His ominous presence warded off Cheon Inho and his cronies from harassing us, and the only interaction was the occasional exchange of nods.

Gilyoung, Sangah, and I chatted for a bit about life before the fall, hobbies, and pastimes. I knew of Sangah's interest in languages, of course, but I learned that she had first attempted to study Arabic, because of an interest in Islamic architecture, before switching to Spanish. Gilyoung enjoyed collecting all insects, but in fact preferred butterflies the most. After his parents' death there were only grasshoppers and cockroaches to be found.

At the mention of butterflies, I rifled through my bag. I handed Gilyoung a small pocketknife from my collection. His hands eagerly grabbed at the gift. "It's a butterfly knife. Practice hard while I'm away so when we meet again, you can show me your skills," I said to him.

Gilyoung nodded happily with a cry of thanks, then scampered off. Namwoon wandered over and perked up. "Can I have one?"

"Nope."

Namwoon pouted. Really, he already had a solid weapon better than any of the knives I'd brought. He began to moan about ageism and the difficulty of earning the favor of angels.

I eventually dozed off, fading in and out of a fitful rest. I was sleeping an awful lot. A side effect of being knocked unconscious? Or something more concerning? I hoped it was only a buildup of stress after trying to have a successful start to the apocalypse in this round.

I was roused an indefinite amount of time later by the presence of someone near me.

Kim Namwoon sat, staring, with a pleasurable grin on his face. "Were you watching me sleep?"

"Yes." The reply came back fast and eager.

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' appreciates the camaraderie between you two.]

[200 coins have been sponsored!]

...What camaraderie, exactly?

Well, it certainly explained the state of mind of Kim Namwoon's sponsor. And perhaps the boy himself, too.

My head throbbed again so I asked Namwoon to grab the aspirin from my bag. I heard his cry of delight at the stack of knives resting on top before he found the bottle. He stretched out with both hands, offering the aspirin to me dramatically.

"You'll take this medicine...and eat it!!"

I shook out two tablets. "It's not a potato chip."

"YOU KNOW DEATH NO—?!" Namwoon's voice squeaked like a prepubescent boy. He clapped a hand over his mouth in horror, then shot up and sprinted out of sight. That crazy otaku kid, I chuckled and looked around.

My stomach knotted as I noticed Dokja was still missing. Did something go wrong? Sure, I knew it was written that he survived the ichthyosaur, but this time he could have hit his head when he fell, he could have failed to recruit Bihyung and angered him, he could have been overwhelmed by digestive juices, he could have—

There was a commotion from over by Cheon Inho's group. Joonghyuk appeared to be napping, so I gathered myself to go check it out.

A woman from the marginalized group screeched as she fell to her knees, begging. "Please! Please tell me where she is! I just want to see my daughter."

The burly man in front of her looked down at her in disgust. "Who knows. Things happen on scavenging trips."

My blood froze in my veins. Scavenging trips! I whipped my head, searching, but it was in vain. Jung Heewon was nowhere to be seen. Cheon Inho came forwards, stretching down with a hand to the poor mother to do who knows what, but I pulled my knife and jumped him.

"The group out scavenging now. Is there a beautiful woman with them?" I pressed the edge of the blade harder against his Adam's apple when he didn't respond.

"Bitch!"

[The exclusive skill, 'Sacred Light' has been activated.]

Before the burly man could hit me, I used my other hand to form a giant fist of light. He choked as I slammed him into the ground by the throat, his head cracking the tile. "Is she with them?"

"Ye—yeah," gasped Cheon Inho.

"Where. Are. They."

He wheezed as the pressure grew. Blood trickled down the curve of his neck. "Convenience stores! Food, they went for food—don't know where!"

I released him and lunged for my backpack, snatching up a few more knives. Joonghyuk was now alert and watched me closely. I ignored him, and the others that called out to me, as I raced towards the exit, buying a few Ellain Monkey's Lungs from the Dokkaebi Bag on my way.

Once I was out of Geumho station, I peeled for the nearest convenience store. Empty. I breathed through the lungs harshly as I ran down the street. I needed more luck on my side.

[The exclusive skill 'Bank of Lady Fortune' has been activated.]

[You have 2/500 luck. Withdraw amount?]

I quickly used the two measly lucks on my search for Heewon. After the third convenience store, I finally came across one where a man lay crumpled in the doorway. The toxic air had infected him, spreading in purple webs across his skin, but he was still alive. I formed a sword of light and rushed inside.

The place was quiet. A shuffling alerted me to the register, and I rounded the corner. "Heewon!"

"Yeona?"

Kim Dokja looked at me in surprise as he propped up a battered Heewon. A long thorn was in his other hand. I grabbed a spare monkey lung and replaced Heewon's cracked gas mask with it in her mouth. I then replaced my own, as it was beginning to blacken, and Dokja and I each helped carry her out of the store, along with the bags of food Dokja had gathered.

We left the still-breathing man in the doorway. I used a thin blade of light to pierce his temple when everyone else's backs were turned.

[Constellations of the absolute good system are conflicted over your actions.]

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' approves of your justice.]

I led us to exit 4 and we forced our way under the closing gate, despite the resistance from Cheon Inho's men on the other side.

"R—run away!"

We carefully set down Heewon and the bags. I tried righting her skewed jacket with trembling hands and used my own suit jacket to cover her torn skirt. She was barely conscious. A shout was heard as the men returned with metal pipes. Dokja and I exchanged a look, and he glanced at Heewon, taking in her state, before standing.

The men reacted at once to Dokja. "It's him! That's the guy!"

"Who?"

"You know, t—the one that stopped us...hehe, such a good time, too."

"Ah. You should let Cheolsoo-hyung go first anyways."

Angered constellations sent a burst of messages, but I only read the last one.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' is furious.]

"...Dokja." My voice was a bitter cold. He understood immediately, and the constellations were in agreement and issued a bounty scenario. Dokja got to work at once, attacking the men and brandishing his thorn as if it were a great sword. A weight settled on my shoulder.

Heewon's eyes were closed. I reached out to give her a comforting hand, but stopped myself, unsure if anyone's unnecessary touch was a good idea at the moment. Instead, I brushed away a lock of hair that had caught on her mouth. My gaze latched on to the ugly bruise there.

"I'm sorry," I said. The tears finally spilled over. "Heewon, I'm so, so sorry."

I should have been watching. I should have stopped it, should have found her and taken her into our group immediately. I knew I could force-activate my continuous skill, 'Rationality,' right now to clear my mind of this overwhelming guilt, but I didn't. I deserved to feel every single bit.

When Heewon grew heavy with sleep, I eased her off my shoulder and back up against the metal gate.

"You know her?"

Dokja crouched in front of us now. The men lay in varying states of collapse behind him. My throat felt thick. "Yeah."

"I don't think anything too grave happened," he said. "I helped chase off the last of them, but they were still struggling when I got there. She had beaten a couple of them."

The pressure on my chest lifted slightly.

I had the sudden, horrible urge to laugh. I was so...vain. My knowledge and abilities didn't make me the greatest actor of change. I was not the sole savior of these people and this world—they were infinitely capable of saving each other and themselves. My mix of emotions was consuming.

"Dokja." He welcomed me in his arms as I folded into him, sobbing. It felt so good to hold him again. He was warm, solid, and here. Oh God, he's finally here. I sobbed harder.

"Is something wrong?"

"You died," I said, hiccupping. "The first scenario—last round—you died. Dokja, you can't die this time."

Dokja was silent as he rubbed my back. His hand hesitated, then moved up to stroke my hair. I breathed in his scent, and though he smelled of freshwater and something fishy, I found it nice. It was calming. It was real. He shifted his knees on the hard tile, so I wiped at my face before pulling back.

He kept his hands on me, prompting me to meet his searching gaze. "Yeona, I'm alright. I won't die."

I nodded slowly. No, he wouldn't, not in any final sense. I wasn't the ultimate savior for everyone...but for Kim Dokja I was. I would become as arrogant and prideful and whatever else it took to reach his proper end.

I reached up with a finger to trace the thin cut just below his right eye. It had already begun to heal. I dropped my hand and gave him a small smile. "I'm glad to see you."

He returned the smile and squeezed me once before letting go. "I'm glad to see you, too."

Dokja offered to carry Heewon, and I collected the food bags. I paused by the group of men. The one that claimed to have had a "good time" was beginning to stir. I stopped Dokja, and asked, "Is he the main one that...?"

"Yes."

There was nothing complicated in my thoughts as I told Dokja to go on ahead, that I would catch up in a moment. He acknowledged my wish and headed down.

He knew. And his understanding came with an equal callousness.

[Activating the passive skill 'Rationality Lv. 9'.]

It was as if every tumultuous emotion, every overwhelming bubble of feeling, was being shrunk and stuffed away in random shelves until my mind became a blissfully cool state.

I set down the bags, far enough away so that no blood would get on them and approached the man with a knife. I used 'Sacred Light' to clamp his mouth shut and his limbs to the floor. His eyes bugged.

"You chose to prey on the weak. Don't be shocked when the same happens to you," I said. A barrier of light shielded my hands—I didn't want a speck of his filth touching me—and I angled the tip of the knife down between his legs. His panicked shrieks were muffled as he squirmed in the restraints.

I didn't bother unclothing him and sunk the knife into his pants.

If the sound could have formed in the air, he would have released a bloodcurdling scream. A few cuts in and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as blood ran between the tiles in rivulets.

It was quick work. I wasn't trying to lop off everything, but I ensured that nothing would be working properly ever again. I inspected my blood-free shoes and clothing, gathered the food, and left.

There was a flurry of messages but, like before, only one modifier caught my eye.

[The constellation 'Demon-like Judge of Fire' favors you.]

[You have been sponsored 800 coins.]

Uriel. I smiled up at the ceiling. She was much more vindictive in this round than I'd expected.

And I like it.

I returned to find Gilyoung, Sangah, and Hyunsung surrounding Dokja in excited greeting. Heewon had been placed on the same bench I knocked out on previously, and I set the food bags by her. Gilyoung saw me and waved.

"Dokja-hyung."

Gilyoung grabbed Dokja's free hand and looked at me, stern, then up at Dokja with an innocent smile. "Noona is leaving us for the sooty bastard!"

"What?" Dokja turned to me, alarmed.

"Gilyoung—I'm not really leaving—it's just for a little while..." I fidgeted with the belt loop of my suit pants. I really need to change out of this, I thought, distracting myself from the sudden tense air. I hadn't planned on telling Dokja of my next steps so soon.

With impeccable timing as ever, Joonghyuk chose that moment to stand up from his hidden spot under the pillar. He looked at me with a pinched expression.

"I see," said Dokja.

Joonghyuk locked eyes with Dokja before they slid back to me. Then he spun and hopped down onto the train tracks, crossing his arms as he did so. Make it quick, I knew he was saying.

I watched Dokja as he examined Joonghyuk for a few minutes. At first, his eyes widened in anger. Then his face scrunched up, bewildered. And more than a little irritated. I wondered what thoughts he had read in Joonghyuk's mind to make him react that way.

Dokja pulled me aside in private, angled so that his body blocked Joonghyuk from view.

"Did he find out you're a regressor?" he whispered harshly.

I shook my head. "My stigmas are censored. And I know that I shouldn't tell him."

"Right. Yoo Joonghyuk does not take kindly to other regressors."

"Still, I should go. I can get Lee Jihye for us and wait for you at Chungmuro station. Maybe get Gong Pildu, too." Dokja seemed conflicted. "I'll be okay. Plus, I can try to soften up the sunfish a bit so he makes for an easier companion."

Dokja grimaced at that, but he slowly released my arm with a nod. "Be careful."

"You too. Cheon Inho's group won't remain quiet for long once Joonghyuk is gone." Something funny shadowed Dokja's face, but I couldn't decipher it.

I bid him and the rest of our group farewell and joined a bored Joonghyuk on the tracks. He said nothing and began walking off into the tunnel.

I smiled at Dokja once more. I wasn't ready to leave him again, but Geumho station was not the unknown belly of a beast. This beast was Cheon Inho and his group, and Dokja has his own companions to aid him this time. He would be alright.

We would meet again, and very soon.

The darkness quickly swallowed me as I followed Yoo Joonghyuk.

Next part ->

A/N: Curious about Joonghyuk's thoughts this chapter? Luckily the author has a little omniscience skill herself:

「I said I would take her with me, but I should kill her.」

「This dark tunnel will suffice.」

「My strength is greater than hers.」

「But...why does the idea of her death hurt?」

「She's dangerous. I should kill her.」

「I don't want to.」

「Annoying.」

「This feeling...」