#but it suffers so much from what i assume is rushing or poor direction
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lesbian-salamander · 5 months ago
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splatoon (especially 3) is just "simultaneously the best and worst thing ever" in every aspect isnt it.
the character design is so amazingly creative but god forbid a woman is fat or non-humanoid
the world-building and lore is so well crafted filled with care but the story is always mediocre with a singular paid exception
the gameplay loop between all modes is so smooth and the way each weapon plays even if weak is still fun but if you have motion sickness have fun playing with a insane disadvantage, or if you have carpal tunnel you just dont get to play 2 weapons, or if you get easily overwhelmed with the music you dont even get to turn it off
and if youre into competitive, patches are usually making the game better but do nothing about what the real problems are at best or slowly build up to create new problems
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jayktoralldaylong · 2 years ago
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TW: Thinking of traumatising TGCF things. TGCF BOOK 2 SPOILERS
I always wondered, when reading the book, why Hua Cheng was so damn violent to Qi Rong. Downright detested him and it was beef that surpassed just the insults to Xie Lian. Then I remembered what Qi Rong did with the carriage and it all made sense. Thinking of how the whole thing would have gone down.
Qi Rong tearing through town, shouting about how he's looking for a little bandaged boy that fell during the festival. People don't like Qi Rong but they like the trouble he brings less. So everyone joins hands and points him in the direction of where they last saw said kid.
Now baby Hua Cheng is by himself, recovering from the shock of his life and seeing the most beautiful man in the world. He's probably hiding behind a garbage of sorts. He gets word that someone from the palace is looking for him. A 'royal prince'. Of course he'd immediately assume that it's Xie Lian. Baby Hua Cheng rushing out, calling out to the carriage that he's here. He's so excited. Face flushed, heart beating excitedly, the person hops down from the carriage........and smashes a fist into his little face. 💔
For a kid, Hua Cheng is really strong and durable but he's also still a kid who's just gotten the shock of his life. 🥺 He goes down fast and realises this isn't the guy he was expecting and that he's in danger, but he's small. He can't get away fast enough. More punches come down (cause I'm pretty sure Qi Rong beat him silly first for daring to interrupt his cousin's golden moment). Once he's sure he's done enough, he picks up the kid. Hua Cheng is shivering and all but the blows have stopped. He thinks he's okay and that he can try to crawl away now, but before he can do that he's tossed into a sack. A sack connected to a carriage, a carriage that immediately takes off. 😭
Anyone. Anyone else, that was not Hua Cheng. That hadn't had a body used to suffering. Any other child....would have died before Xie Lian stopped the carriage. Poor Hua Cheng was too scared to uncurl when Xie Lian found him. It wasn't till after much coaxing. He was so battered and bruised that Xie Lian almost didn't recognise him. A child. Xie Lian was rightfully pissed. Yet when he tried to explain to his father what Qi Rong had done wrong, his father dared say Feng Xin hitting Qi Rong had more priority than Qi Rong nearly killing an orphan. "How dare a guard raise his hand against a prince? If this goes on how long till a revolution?" Sir, because the poor were ignored there was a revolution.
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like-rain-or-confetti · 4 years ago
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Request: Falling (Alec Volturi x Reader)
WARNING: Gore! Death!
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The day had started off so well, peaceful. More peaceful than it had been the past couple of days prior. Yet things went down hill as night fell and seemed to only get worse. Eventually you were told what was happening. The Volturi was under attack. 
Aro didn't have to touch Alec to know his thoughts as his gaze fixated on you. He couldn't leave you unprotected but couldn't neglect the leaders. Ultimately, you were sent to be with the wives who were at the very top of the tower, guards standing guard at the entrance. 
"Everything will be fine." Athenodora told you as she gripped your arms tightly. "Our husbands will be with us soon. You don't need to fear." Sulpicia added. You nodded but were unable to hold back tears. Athenodora pulled you into her arms, holding you close. Her motherly instinct coming through in your moment of need. Truth be told, the Volturi were ever so slightly more attached to you than regular humans. Not just because you were Alec's mate but also because you were very unlike them. You were completely innocent and it often made vampires wonder just what Alec saw in you considering the two of you were so different. Now if anyone were to question it, Alec would lose his temper considering it an attack on you. It also meant you were very sheltered by the Volturi. You didn't know the details of Alec's past. Only the necessary parts and you knew next to nothing of what he had done over the centuries. Alec wanted it that way, considering it to hurt you more than anything. It wouldn't have been to your benefit. 
Before you could be reassured any further, there was loud thuds, one after the other. Athenodora gestured for you to go to the other side of the room. Whatever caught their eye made both Sulpicia and Athenodora hiss and growl. As they moved to maintain their distance, a man, also a vampire, made his way into the room. He had platinum blonde hair and striking red eyes. "Good evening ladies." He smirked, his accent very prominent. He cast a glance to you. "Good evening to you too, little human." You stayed quiet, nervous and something about the man told you that you had every reason to be-even if you don't know those reasons. "I assume you may not know me. I doubt they'd tell you and judging by your face I would be correct." He grinned at you, the grin sinister. "My name is Vladimir and I have some business to attend to with this coven." You trembled in fear as you looked between who you now knew to be Vladimir, Athenodora and Sulpicia. "Shaking like a leaf." Vladimir said to himself, his eyes running up and down your figure. "I wonder if you'd do the same if you knew what those witch twins have done in their wretched existence." "It's alright, sweetheart." Athenodora called out from behind him. "You'll be alright." "Don't say that." Vladimir said softly, over his shoulder. "It's a lie." "They aren't involved in this. Don't hurt them when they are innocent." Sulpicia responded. Vladimir scoffed. "Since when did the Volturi ever care for innocents?" Vladimir said coldly before turning his attention to you once more. "They're involved now. Alec is the one infatuated with you, isn't it? Or was it Jane? I'm quite certain it was Alec." Vladimir was in front of you in moments. You stifled a scream, biting your lips and breathing quickly. Vladimir tilted his head with sympathy, whether it was real sympathy or not, you couldn't be sure. "Poor thing, you'll have a heart attack if you don't calm yourself little one." Vladimir took your face in his hands and you froze. "Come now, deep breaths. I want you aware for what comes next." You did as he asked, simply out of fear of what would happen if you did not. "That's it." He said with a malicious smile. "I must inform you that Alec isn't coming for you. You see, the higher ranked guards have their leaders as priority and their leaders...are only really concerned for their remaining mates. They're going to discover that I've incapacitated their guards protecting their wives." You immediately thought to Afton, Chelsea, Corin and then Renata. Although she must have been with Aro. Vladimir continued. "I have no doubt they'll come in time for them. I can't say the same for you, little one."
A tear ran down your face and Vladimir brushed it away with his thumb. "Are you going to kill me?" You asked quietly between breaths. Vladimir nodded with a hum. You immediately broke out into sobs, terrified of the man who had your head in his hands. Vladimir hushed you softly. "I know, it's not fair. However, if you knew... you'd understand." He walked you back towards the balcony door. "I'm not going to bite you. I'm not going to break your neck. I'm not going to do anything like that. That's too easy and I don't particularly want you to suffer. I want that wretched witch twin to suffer. Although I'm not going to guarantee you a painless death." "Vladimir..." Athenodora called, trying to take his attention from you, a small but desperate attempt to save your life. "I know, even I am struggling to go through with this. That terrified face, a little human who doesn't understand what's happening around them. Even I can feel sympathy." Vladimir said to the wives as he stared into your eyes. "Then don't." Sulpicia said flatly. "You've made your point." "No, I haven't." Vladimir responded. "You took everything from me. I will make you all suffer and those witch twins will know the feeling of what it's like to lose someone you love. When every last one of you are in pieces. Only then, will I have made my point." His face softened once more. "However, I will extend my apologies to you. You seem to be a lovely person but the company you keep...not so much. So you pay the price. That is the way of the world." 
Before you could even register what was happening, Vladimir forcefully walked you back before pushing you hard. Your eyes widened, mouth opening with a silent scream as you felt your body topple over the banister. Vladimir turned back to the wives with a smirk. "Do you really think me such a fool that I wouldn't notice Jane slowly getting closer?" 
Vladimir was thoroughly enjoying the current predicament. He had both you and the wives in the same room and at his mercy. He would enjoy it for as long as he could. Therefore Jane had to be particularly careful. She couldn't rush there, not when you were there. There was a better chance at keeping all three of you alive if she moved slowly, let him talk as she sneaked closer. However she knew she had to get there before any were hurt. Jane heard your pounding heart and then your sobs when Vladimir made his intentions known. She made it to her room and stilled. This would be the one place she had a good chance at hiding as it was filled with her scent. 
From this point onwards, she had to be quick. However she couldn't being herself to move. She looked up towards the ceiling, listening for the tower. Vladimir had moved, as you had and realisation struck. She wouldn't make it in time, not for you. The wives yes, but not you. She couldn't let the panic set in even though she knew it was over. The next thing she knew, you were falling. 
Everything went quiet for you, only the wind whistling in your ears as you floated. Maybe if you thought you were floating, it wouldn't be so frightening. Although the thought didn't help because you weren't floating. You were falling. You couldn't even scream, clawing the air as though that would have stopped you. If you didn't move, you'd land head first and if you had to land, then you didn't want it to be on your head. 
For Jane, time slowed down as soon as she saw you passing her window. The two of you locked eyes for a moment. Her shocked eyes meeting your terrified ones. There was so much she wanted to tell you in that moment and even more so, she wanted to grab you but couldn't believe her eyes. You were falling too quick and she wouldn't reach you in time. 
Time seemed to gain speed once more once you passed the window. All the while Jane rushed to the window, falling to her knees letting out a scream of horror. Her twins mate was falling to their death and she couldn't do anything about it. You had moved, you'd land on your back but suddenly that didn't matter anymore. You knew you wouldn't survive this. You looked up at the sky- trying to ignore how the castle's tower grew taller and taller by the second. 
Glass shattering was the next sound to be heard beyond Jane's scream. Demetri and Felix were running towards Jane whilst Alec headed towards the shattering glass. Demetri and Felix rushed into Jane’s room, four stories up the tower. Jane was supposed to be guarding the entrance to the tower and to hear her scream was beyond concerning as well as frightening. The two men found her on her knees, staring at the window. "What-" Demetri couldn't finish his sentence because multiple stories down, Alec's own scream could be heard. "Alec!" Jane screamed as she clutched the floor boards, almost as though in pain. In agony for her twin. 
Alec could smell the blood, but didn't think it could be yours. However when he found your body sprawled out across the ground surrounded in glass and covered with cuts and blood. There was more than that though, a small steady pool of blood had began to grow from underneath you. The smell of blood suddenly for overwhelming, along with the shock. He slapped a hand over his mouth and nose, throwing himself against the stone wall behind him. Before he could hold back, Alec let out a gut wrenching, agonized scream. 
The receptionist, Carmella, rushed in hearing the commotion. Perhaps it was a foolish thing to do, if anything survival instinct should have told her to run the opposite direction of the screams but they sounds so pained and panicked, with so many other emotions there was surely a list. She gasped, a cry of horror escaping her when she opened the door to see you across the room, sprawled out on the ground, surrounded by glass. A hole in the glass roof where you had fallen through. Carmella turned hearing more cries and screams in the corner. Alec had nearly indented the wall with his attempt to push himself back. His hands covering his nose and mouth but his screaming was so loud that it did nothing to really muffle the screams. Carmella was quick to take off her heels rushing towards you. "Help them!" Alec began to scream. "(Y/N)!" Alec continued to scream and cry as Carmella moved as much glass as she could to allow her room. "They're not breathing!" Alec cried out in hysteria. Carmella was quick to press a finger to her lips, doing her best to calm him despite the scene having her tremble too. "Alec, shh! You need to be quiet, these men are still here!" "Save my (Y/N)!" Alec yelled back. "Alec, you need to stop screaming! I will try to help them but you'll bring them here. Don't scream!" Carmella pleaded.  Alec curled into himself, still in hysterics, but not screaming as much. Mostly talking to himself, begging you not to leave him, inconsolable for his (Y/N). Carmella looked at your lidded eyes, swallowing hard. You were younger than her and to see you lifeless hit her very hard. She put her hands on your chest, pressing down repeatedly. After sometime, stopping to pinch your nose and breathing twice into your mouth. You didn't respond and she repeated the process. "(Y/N), please!" Alec begged. "You can't leave me! Please! Wake up!" Alec took a deep unnecessary breath. "Breathe!" He screamed. 
Athenodora looked at Vladimir with disgust but was unable to hide her own grief. "Breathe!" They heard Alec scream. "Now he knows what that feels like." Vladimir said flatly. "Now he knows what that loss feels like." Vladimir smirked slightly. "Maybe he has it worse. Our kind are still alive when ripped to pieces, it's the fire that kills us. Humans are such fragile beings." Athenodora glowered at him. "You chose the easier target, that is all." "No I chose the one you least expected." Vladimir retorted. "You're all so busy protecting yourselves. You would know, you're kept in a tower. That all of you forgot the easier target. I know how much that human means to many of you. Him, no less." Vladimir nodded behind him, talking about Alec. "Aren't they they child you never had?" Vladimir asked, tilting his head. Athenodora glared at him. "You don't know what you're talking about." "I'll admit, they almost had me. That face, filled with fear. They're innocent, I'll give them that much but this world punishes you for the company you keep." Vladimir sighed. "I'll admit expect you two will put up more fight, won't you?" Athenodora and Sulpicia stared him down, they wouldn't show him any fear. They wouldn't give him the luxury. Instead, they looked at him in anger. 
"Come back to me!" Alec cried out as Carmella bit her lip, beginning to lose hope. "Breathe!" Alec pleaded. "Please, breathe!" Carmella froze, she could have sworn you moved. "Alec?" Carmella said quickly, feeling for a pulse. However, Alec was too distraught to hear anything. "Alec!" Carmella yelled. It was enough to gain his attention. "Are they breathing? Are the alive!?" Carmella continued to dig around your neck for a pulse when Alec gasped. At the same time Carmella felt it. A faint pulse, but there. "They're... they're alive." Alec said quietly, eyes wide with disbelief. In that time Demetri rushed in. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the scene. "Is there a heart beat!?" It was Carmella's turn to feel hysteria as it slowly built up. "It's...it's still there." Alec said quietly. If he could have cried he would have. The relief, silencing him.  "It won't last long." Demetri ground out before looking to Alec. Alec looked back at Demetri, understanding what Demetri had to do. Alec nodded.  Demetri moved Carmella out of the way. "Carmella, leave. Get out of here." Demetri ordered and she did.  Demetri moved your head to the side, biting your neck, moving your head to the other side before biting your neck again. He took both of your wrists, biting each. "I can't do anymore. I won't be able to stop." Alec nodded. "Four should be enough." 
Carmella broke out into a run before being face to face with Stefan. She screamed before Stefan roughly grabbed her by the neck. "You are interfering." Stefan snarled before biting into Carmella's neck and pulling back, taking any flesh latched against his teeth with him. Carmella immediately began to choke, as Stefan dropped her to the ground. Alec and Demetri heard the commotion. With a newfound calm Alec turned to Demetri with a dark look in his eyes. "Get them out of here." Demetri understood. Alec couldn't take you away from here, the smell of your blood being too much. Demetri's gaze flickered to the door. It seemed Alec had other ideas. Demetri nodded, scooping you up. 
Alec marched down the hall, seeing red, everywhere he went. Before him was Carmella, choking on her own blood. He bent down. "Thank you." Alec said without emotion. "I am grateful for all you have done to save my (Y/N). I'll make this easier for you." Alec took Carmella's head in his hands as she continued to choke, but maintained eye contact with him. He twisted quickly with ease as and loud snap erupted.  With ease, Alec stood up once more, hunting down every last one who was responsible for your possible demise. Alec wasn't stupid, you were still in danger, you had to survive the change and whilst that was still to be known, the hurt and rage he felt continued to build. 
"Jane, have you fed?" She heard Demetri demand as he marched down the hall. "Yes." She opened the door, meeting Demetri with your limp body. She let out a choked gasp. "Are they...?" "I had to. They had already died once." Demetri said quickly and Jane swallowed, remembering your eyes locking with hers as you fell. "Will you stay with them?" Demetri asked as he put you on the bed. "Yes. You go. Make them suffer for this." Jane said firmly. "I won't lie to you, Jane." Demetri said, turning to meet her gaze. "If Alec gets to them first, there won't be much left." 
Aro, Caius, Marcus, Renata, Santiago and other guards burst through the tower doors. Immediately, Caius and Aro grabbed their wives, pulling them behind them. Vladimir simply grinned, raising a finger. "Can you hear it? The agony of losing a mate?" They all could, Alec's screams, Jane's agony for her twin. Vladimir turned to Marcus specifically. "You and I know that pain better than anybody." Marcus glowered at him. He could tolerate being the cause of misery for many, he had taken many mates from others but seeing his mates killer before him, grinning at the loss of Alec's mate was something that filled him with rage. Yet he did not move. Vladimir was alone and with them and if the Volturi had anything to say about it, he wouldn't be leaving alive. "I have a whole castle to my disposal so, stick together is my advice." Within seconds Vladimir jumped over the same balcony you had, in the other side from which you fell and landed on the roof. Then he was gone. 
"Santiago, help Afton, Chelsea and Corin." Aro said lowly. "Dear ones, we best find a safe place...for now." The group had moved to Jane's room, where Demetri was just about to take his leave. This was the safest place they could be, Jane being one of their greatest weapons. Athenodora smoothed back your hair, kneeling at your bedside. "You're going to be alright sweetheart." She said quietly. Her eyes ran over your broken, bruised and bloodied body as the group were updated on what happened to you after the fall. Demetri explained he was the one to change you, biting four times but it was the self control he had left. Aro wasn't entirely certain it would be enough considering the amount of damage you had taken. Nearly all of your bones were broken and the venom needed to travel throughout your body before your heart gave up for a second time. "Let me." Jane said suddenly, from the other side of you from Athenodora. "Let me match the number of Demetri's bites." "Jane, your self control isn't as refined as Demetri's, even if you have just fed. Can you be certain you could stop four times?" Marcus responded. Jane hesitated. "I have to try. I can't let them...they can't die." She whispered. "Do as much as you can." Athenodora said firmly, reaching for Jane's hand. "I'll take over if I need to." "Athen-" Caius spoke up but she cut him off. "Caius, if you don't support my decision then do so but keep it to yourself. (Y/N) will be one of us and I refuse to lose another person I loved to the Romanians, to anyone." The group knew immediately she was talking about Didyme. Athenodora had struggled greatly when Didyme died. She had lost a sister and it nearly broke her. When the twins introduced you to her, she loved you immediately. Something about you drew you in and made her feel protective of you. Whenever Caius gave you a hard time, as he did everyone, Athenodora would shut him down on it immediately. She was the only person who could. However Caius, knew you were different to Athenodora, you weren't her sister. Athenodora couldn't help but look at you as though you were her child. Filling the motherly role you had since lost when being brought into the vampire world by Alec. It came so naturally that it even rubbed off on Caius ever so slightly. He was harder on you not just because you were human but because he cared. Almost taking the fatherly role but refusing it with every fibre of his being. Yet no matter how much he tried, his intentions were always in your best interest. No matter how hard on you he was. 
Caius sighed, moving to his wife's side on the floor before looking to Jane. "If it's too much, you stop. We'll take over." Jane nodded, looking at you one last time before leaning towards your shoulder. Jane managed two bites, cursing herself for her poor self control. Whilst Aro reminded her that it takes more self control to change someone in such a condition, if anything it showed how much self control she could find within herself. As Aro reassured Jane, Caius and Athenodora nodded to one another before she bit down.  Athenodora hadn't changed anyone before despite being one of the oldest vampires in existence. She reeled back trying to focus on you rather than your blood in her mouth, mixed with venom. Caius gripped her hand, silently questioning her. She squeezed his hand. She just needed to do it one more time. He nodded to her, silently promising he would help her. They managed to match the number of Demetri's bites, four turning to eight on various places of your body. It was rare to have more than one vampires venom. Although it meant that if anyone had attachments to the Volturi, it was you. You had Athenodora's vemon, attaching you to her, as well as Caius by extension. Demetri's venom and Jane's venom. Whilst it wasn't Alec's venom, Jane was his biological twin. It was the next best thing. You were their responsibility. 
Usually someone would be thrashing in agony. They couldn't help but wonder why you were still but your heart pounding almost out of your chest, stronger than ever. Aro and Marcus came to the realisation before anyone else.  Almost all of your bones were broken, you wouldn't have been able to move. Alec turned to be met with Demetri and Felix. Their eyes turning black by the second but nothing close to Alec's completely pitch black ones. "Need a hand?" Felix smirked, eager for the hunt and fight almost immediately. "As we speak, Afton and Santiago are making their way towards us. Renata, Corin and Chelsea are with the masters. (Y/N) is in good hands." Before Alec could respond Afton and Santiago had arrived. "They're going to suffer." Alec said through a clenched jaw. "Damn right." Felix grinned and Alec appreciated how quickly Felix had agreed. Alec turned to Demetri. "You know where they are?" It was Demetri's turn to smile as he nodded. "Then let's go get them." Afton spoke up. "Make them hurt." "You're not usually the type to encourage violence." Felix smirked at Afton. Afton looked at Felix. "Vladimir took Chelsea's head off before me. He's given me just as much of a reason as he has Alec. As far as I see it, doing that to (Y/N) was more than enough for brutality. I'm more than happy to assist for my Chelsea." Felix clapped Afton on the shoulder. "Good man. We'll show 'em not to mess with our mates." 
"We need to move their head." Marcus noted softly, looking at you. It was clear your neck was healing judging by the bones beginning to knit together once more, less jutting out and threatening to break the skin. Marcus delicately moved your head that had moved to the side and held it straight. With a pop, the venom swarmed the remaining broken areas. It's success was heard when a broken pained exhale passed through your nose. Marcus carefully let go, allowing your now completely healed neck to rest.  “It's their spinal cord, just under their skull." Marcus answered Athenodora's silent questioning as to what the popping had been. "What about the back of their head?" Sulpicia asked. "They're laying on it and..." She trailed off. Judging by the look on Athenodora's face, she struggled to finish the sentence. That your head was caved in and bloody from the back. "It'll be fine, my dear." Aro reassured his mate. "The venom will fix it. It may just take a little longer." "I want to make them hurt." Jane ground out, gaining the attention of the rest of the group. She glared at the wall, jaw clenched tightly. "You must stay with us, dear one." Aro responded. "Your brother has this handled. You know him. Those two will have hell to pay." Marcus added. "The look in (Y/N)'s eyes as they fell. They were terrified. They looked at me and I couldn't do anything to stop it." Jane continued somewhat weakly. Athenodora rose from her chair to Jane's side and pulled her in. Athenodora kissed the side of Jane's head delicately. "You did everything we could have ever expected you to. (Y/N) knows that. There was nothing you could have done. Don't torment yourself so." Jane stared at you from her own seat as Athenodora cradled Jane as best she could standing up.  "After all these years, the Romanians still don't understand one simple thing." Caius said. "What's that?" Jane asked. "That they might win some battles but the Volturi always win the war." Caius said with ease. 
Stefan was fast but Afton was faster. Afton had him by the neck, turning visible once more. "You've made quite a mistake coming here." Santiago said from behind Stefan. "Ready to pay the price?" Felix asked, grinning widely. "You did it to yourselves." Stefan responded before swiping at Afton. "What was it Vladimir said up at the tower again?" Felix asked. "Anyone recall?" "I believe the words were 'you seem to be a lovely person but the company you keep- not so much. So you must pay the price.' " Santiago responded. " 'That is the way of the world.' " Demetri added. "So you'll understand what comes next, won't you?" Felix grinned. The group lunged at Stefan. 
Sulpicia was the first to make comment on the brutality they could hear. Tearing, ripping, snarls, growls and groans as well as many thuds of footsteps and likely bodies hitting the ground. "Such brutality..." She said as though considering the sounds to be impolite. As though higher than what was happening. "Good." Athenodora said darkly. "I hope they do more." 
Stefan was covered in cracks, his limbs jutting out in odd angles, some nearly torn from him completely. Alec kneeled down, his knee going on Stefan's chest who groaned as he felt the cracks along his chest get pushed in further, threatening to tear more. "I'm going to make you both hurt. Just as (Y/N) did. I will break every bone and just when you think I'm done. You'll realise it's only the beginning." 
After staring at you for some time, Athenodora rose from her seat once more. Immediately going to Jane's bathroom with a random bowl shaped decoration, she turned on the tap, filling it with warm water. "What are you doing, my love?" Caius called out to her. She re-emerged with the bowl and a towel. "Getting some of the blood out of their hair. When they wake up, the last thing we need is to either scare them or having them try feed from their own blood." Athenodora said firmly. "Jane, might I use your comb?" Jane nodded immediately grabbing it and moving towards Athenodora. Sulpicia sighed with reluctance. "Very well, I'll get the other side." She went into the bathroom and returned with another towel. "Are you dividing each section and working through?" Sulpicia asked. "Yes." Athenodora said quietly, already focused on the section she had. She was delicate with her tactic. She started at the bottom of your hair and worked her way up to the roots, wetting the comb every so often as red smeared the crisp white towel. Caius couldn't help but be in awe of his wife as always. He was certain no one had even considered taking the blood out of your hair the whole time yet she was the first. "We're going to have to clean them properly when we can move them." Sulpicia said. "One thing at a time." Athenodora said quietly, swallowing hard. "Right now we just need to get the blood out." 
Alec gripped Stefan's head by his hair bringing it to eye-level. "I'm not done with you yet, you're coming with us." Afton looked at the scattered limbs across the room that were covered in cracks, including Stefan's face. "What do you want to do with these?" He asked. Alec cast a glance to the limbs too. "Leave them. They aren't going anywhere." The guards moved down the hall once more Alec having Stefan's head on proud display. "We're close." Demetri said quietly. Alec gripped Stefan's head tightly. He felt the rage build up in him and everyone knew exactly what was coming next. 
The guards were in an intense stare down with Vladimir. "You understand now, don't you? The pain you caused." "I took people from you." Alec said stoically. "I understand that." Alec lifted the head to Vladimir's line of sight. "I took another from you." Vladimir hissed, angered by the sight. "Or at least I will." Alec said before he tossed the head towards Vladimir. His eyes narrowed on Vladimir, his jaw tight. "You took my human from me." Alec began. "Maybe they'll survive this and be fine after this night but no matter how this ends- I'll never see my little human again." Alec's jaw twisted. "You hurt my mate and I will rip you limb from limb and make you suffer for it. You think I was bad back then? Well, you're about to face your worst nightmare. That was nothing! Nothing compared to what I will do now!" Alec began to hysterically scream, the other guards just barely catching up to him when he lunged at Vladimir. 
Demetri was the first to enter Jane’s room. "It's over." He said, confirming everyone's speculations. Everything had gone quiet after a long time of hearing Alec's constant screams. When it finally stopped, they couldn't help but think the Romanians were no more. The others followed through. Alec's eyes were pitch black and immediately moved to you on the bed. "For a second I thought Alec was going to put the Romanians back together with the other's limbs as well as a mix of their own. Neither of them went peacefully." Felix said. "They burn as we speak." Demetri said. Afton was next to move heading towards Chelsea, his hands cradling her face and inspecting her. 
Even after the rest left, Jane, Alec, Demetri and Felix remained with you. "What if they aren't...what if they won't...?" Alec trailed off unable to say the words. "Who knows if they hear us but...we have to think they'll survive. They will. They have to." Jane responded. After a moment of silence, Jane looked to her brother. "Talk to them. It'll help the two of you."  "Despite my appearance, I'm old (Y/N). So very old. You asked me how old I was when I was changed and I couldn't answer you. That's always been the one question my sister and I could never answer. We had forgotten any kind of clue to help us figure it out. Although it doesn't matter. I've been on this earth so very long. So if you could please just, save me a broken heart and survive this." Alec pressed your cold hand into his cheek tightly but still reminding himself to be gentle. "You're young. You- you need to survive this. I have seen some wicked things, oh, but sweet-face the beautiful things I have seen over so many years. I want to you to see it. Even more so I want you more selfishly for myself. I can't imagine continuing this existence without you. You have given me the most wonderful time I have ever had. I want more." Alec let out a short pained laugh. "I know you said you weren't fond of becoming a vampire but there are less extreme ways to go about it." Alec pressed a kiss to your hand, squeezing his eyes shut. "I know you're not that opposed though." He said quietly. "You promised me remember? You promised me I could keep you."  “They’ll make it, Alec.” Demetri assured him. “This is (Y/N). They’re one of the strongest humans we know.” Alec’s eyes drifted to Demetri. “They died already. I felt it, the pain of losing them and I can’t help but think it’s only the beginning.”  “It isn’t, we got them back.”  “Now they’re fighting for their life once again.” Felix cracked a smile. "That's love for you." He said simply, catching Alec, Demetri and Jane’s attention. “What?” Alec said in confusion.  "Funny thing I've noticed about humans, if they love you, they'll always come back to you." Felix smiled before meeting Alec’s eyes. “Believe me, (Y/N) will pull through.” Felix raised his index finger. “You can hear it.” They could. They could hear your heart pounding fast as the venom coursed through your body. “You’re right, (Y/N) died after that fall. However, we got them back and right now i am willing to bet that human is fighting with everything they have to wake up and come back to us.” 
The twins lowered you into the tub, in a sitting position but your back propped against the end of the bath. Allowing clear access for Alec to see the back of your head. He immediately faltered. "I can do this alone if you like?" Jane offered. Seeing her brothers black eyes with his face contorted as though pained by the sight and he was. Seeing your now healed head and remembering how it was previously as well as the large amount of blood dried into the back of your head was painful. Alec shook his head. "No, I'll help. It's healed. It's only the aftermath." Alec responded, mostly reminding himself. He grabbed the shampoo, pouring a large amount into his hand. Carefully, he rubbed it into your head. He'd never done this before but he couldn't consider this a positive first time given your condition. The white liquid began to foam and then redden by the second. Alec continued to work his fingers through your hair and scalp. As Alec dealt with your head, Jane got a damp cloth running it over the bite marks on your neck. She paused hearing her brother swallow down a moan of pain. She looked towards him. "There's still some glass...in their head." He managed out weakly. Jane said nothing at first, the venom should have pushed the glass out as it passed through healing any breaks in the skin. Although those remaining must have been dug in deep. "I don't want to hurt them." Alec said. "Brother, they're already in pain." Jane said weakly seeing how this tortured her brother. "The wounds will close immediately after." She reassured him as she stood up, digging for tweezers. She had never used them, never had the need for them yet she was glad she had them in that moment. Neither twin fond of the thought of digging into your head with their fingers. "Let me." She said quietly as Alec moved to give his sister some room. Her movements were delicate and quick four tiny pieces of glass removed quickly and effectively. However the two stared at the small pieces before looking at one another. Alec inspected your scalp, brushing the hair around. Where the glass had been imbedded. "No blood." He confirmed, his eyes widened slightly. That was a very good sign. Jane nodded with a small smile. "They're already closing up." Jane moved back to the side of the tub and Alec once more focused on your head. "I'll need to take their clothes off." Jane sighed. "We got anywhere we could reach at the time." Alec nodded. "I'll lift their head. Whilst you remove their shirt." If it had been anyone else, a comment would have been made about Alec seeing you topless. However, the twins could be significantly more mature about that than Felix. The one that was most likely to make such a comment. Thankfully, Felix had kept his distance...mostly thanks to Demetri who had him preoccupied. 
"They've begun to lose their colour." Jane said. "I thought so too, sister." Alec replied. The blood washed away from the bites with ease, leaving small prick-like dark holes that would be closing and change colour soon enough. 
Alec carried you back to the bed as Jane fixed the pillows. Gently, Alec lay you down. "There, that's better." Alec said, relieved that no longer had you been covered in dried blood. A gruesome reminder of what had happened to you. "We should go and feed now." Jane said, taking her brothers hand before he could consider refusing. 
A day passed. Alec's eyes widened as your head moved slightly. Your breathing had started to slow, your body forgetting the constant need to breathe. The movement wasn't rigid and forced out of you like movements and moans had been out of the agony. This movement looked more willing and peaceful. A soft exhale passing through your nose. 
When you woke up, it was Demetri and Felix's job to get you fed before Alec could even see you. He understood of course but Alec couldn't help the need to see you again. His gaze snapped towards any footsteps that neared throughout the eight hours you had been awake. Alec felt hopeful when Demetri returned. "Ah, you have returned, dear one." Aro smiled. "I trust (Y/N)'s first feeding was a success?" Demetri nodded. "They aren't driven constantly by the next meal but their control is as much as can be expected." His eyes moved to meet Alec's. "Someone really wants to see you." He smiled slightly, aware of Alec's emotions. "Bring them in." Aro said warmly. "Reunions can be such happy times." Demetri nodded at the permission. 
Felix entered, with you beside him. His eye was on you constantly, as everyone knew was necessary. However you didn't seem remotely bothered. Actually, it was as if you didn't know he was there. Your eyes immediately locking on Alec's. Alec broke formation immediately walking up to you. You looked at him in adoration, with new eyes, now bright red, seeing every little detail of him and seemingly, falling in love all over again. It was strange not hearing a heartbeat, or feeling warmth radiate off of you as Alec had grown accustomed to. He didn't want to startle you in any way, remembering you were still a newborn. You smiled at him brightly. When you reached out for him, he couldn't take it anymore. Against better judgement he quickly pulled you into him, his forehead against yours. His hands cradled your head as you continued to smile at him. Your own hands reaching up to cover his. He couldn't talk, emotions overwhelming him into silence whilst you seemed too focused on him to actually say anything. A few of the Volturi in the room couldn't help but smile at the scene. They knew how much Alec struggled and to see have you back with them, smiling when they thought you wouldn't make it was very much the happy ending Aro had always been so fond of.
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shushiyuii · 3 years ago
Text
Not me, it’s my basement (Part 2)
You guys voted it for it and you got more angst :3 Hope you guys are happy! (Dw there’s some fluff in here too, i’m not cruel)
Warnings: Mentions of hard vore, character death and trauma. Child fear and horror elements,
Words: 2.5K+
Notes: Just a lil update before i get dragged back into the writing pits of hell is that Adopt a mortal is getting a rewrite. It’s a tad old and rushed (Not only that but i feel like i can do better now. So part 1-2 will become part 1 and part 2 will be coming shortly after!). Dicey- help-
He hadn’t been sure when he had fallen asleep, nor when he gained consciousness. He just laid there in the comfort of the blankets, forgetting the previous days' events. His parents would probably wake him up soon to help with chores, inevitably.
It never came.
After what felt like hours of restless sleep, he shifted in his bed slightly. Only to feel a weight at the end of the bed, not a giant one, well it was. But it didn’t cover the entire bed. Tommy could only assume it was the monster leaning on his bedside for whatever reason.
Now that he thought about it, he could hear low, sleepy growls. Whatever was leaning on his bed was sleeping beside him.
The very thing that killed his parents.
He could feel the adrenaline begin to pump through his veins once again, ready for running if need be. He opened his eyes slightly to peek and there his suspicions were confirmed. A sleeping monster at the end of his bed.
It was strangely peaceful as its back rose up and down. He could clearly see the monster now, it very much reminded him of a phantom, a monster from the stories his parents used to tell him. Not only that but he could clearly see a brown set of hair on the monster as he had guessed on the first night.
Its hair was very messy like it hadn’t been taken care of in weeks. Not only that but the monster also had a blue sweater on, it seemed old as there were many holes in the sweater. Tommy could’ve also sworn he could see a bloodstain as well…
He shifted in the bedsheets to lean against the wall, the monster seemed to notice his movements as it let out a lengthy growl, but it wasn’t directed at Tommy, more so a yawn. The monster was waking up.
Tommy panicked and threw the bedsheets at the monster’s head and ran for the door.
A small scent of fear hit his nostrils, he yawned and began to open his eyes to check on the small one beside him. But instead, before he could even open his eyes, messy bedsheets were thrown on top of him and the sound of tiny footsteps could be heard hurriedly leaving the room.
But he was fast, faster than this small one. In an instant, he got up and scanned for the small child. Seeing him in seconds and pounced. The child let out a scream as he was lifted into his arms, shaking in fear.
He held the child gently and allowed him to be put back down on the ground, only for the child to fall to the ground crying. The child’s sobbed loudly, his breathing ragged as he once again cried his heart out.
He thought about lending a claw to the small one, but he had already done enough. He has already done enough to scare this poor child. He knew he had messed up, he thought he had broken into an ordinary’s couples’ home.
He thought he could have an easy hideaway and meal, but that wasn’t the case because the moment he went up the stairs from that meal. The door was locked, somebody else was in the house. And to his surprise, it was a small child.
One he had eaten the parents of, now, Wilbur could simply leave this child alone. But Wilbur knew better than that. He knew that if he were to leave this child alone, that they would suffer. Not many humans out there were accepting, even some of his own species were the same.
If this child were to be left alone, it would be very difficult to be accepted by another family. He knew that himself as he had been through it many a time, he’d join packs only for them to hunt him down and be hurt.
He knew what it was like to be alone and scared. He was raised that way and this child didn’t dare deserve any of it...
Not only that but he had also taken away the child’s family, it was his fault that the child was going to suffer. But he wouldn’t allow him to suffer alone, he would also settle this burden. He would help care for the child. Even if he could barely take care of himself.
He let out a low shriek, normally a means of comforting young in his species, but all he got in response was the whimpers of the child. This was going to be very difficult.
The child backed off against a wall, Wilbur’s instincts caused him to let out a whine of worry. But it only scared the child more. The only way he could really communicate with the child was through the child’s language. English.
What would he say though? ‘It’s okay?’ because that would only cause the child more mental turmoil. Yet how was he supposed to calm down the child?  
After a moment he decided a simple conversation should be enough to calm the child, at least somewhat, he could only hope.
“Young one.”, he began. The child looked up towards him, like the night before. A look of absolute fear. “What’s your name?...”. The child continued to stare at him, but after a moment a small voice whimpered out a name. “T-Tommy…”.
Wilbur smiled softly but it only seemed to make the child fear more, he instantly stopped. “Apologises, I do not wish to frighten you, Tommy. My name is Wilbur, it’s nice to meet you.”. He only hoped that this conversation would be enough to allow the child to gain courage.
And it seemed to have worked, only slightly though. The child shifted to curl in on himself more and stare more at Wilbur, but there was less tension from the boy. In fact, the boy seemed to be in his own mind, thinking whilst also keeping his guard up, like the child wished to ask something.
And he did. “W-where’s Mommy and Daddy?”, the child whimpered out, a question Wilbur didn’t wish to quite answer. But he would have to one way or another. “I’m sorry.”. Reality seemed to hit the child as a couple of hiccups escaped from his throat.
“W-why?...”, it wasn’t a ‘Why are you sorry?’, it was a ‘Why have you done this?’ sort of question, one that broke Wilbur’s heart. Tommy attempted to wipe his eyes, only for more tears to fall. All Wilbur could do was feel guilt at the situation, at what he had done.
Wilbur didn’t like the sight of the cries, he wanted to comfort the boy, but this boy was absolutely terrified of him, what was he supposed to do in a situation like this? He moved his claw gently to wipe at the child’s eyes, Tommy flinched. That’s when he backed off.
“I didn’t want to, but I had to. I’m sorry.”.
The child became enraged, “W-What do you mean?! Why did my parents have to-“, the confidence the child had gained was once again replaced by fear as Tommy realised he had tried to stand up to the monster.
But Wilbur did not dare make a sound, nor move. The child needed to know he meant no harm, realise that he was going to have control. So, the two stared for what felt like hours.
Tommy then looked away with tears in his eyes, seemingly with regret. He whispered yet it was clear, “W-why haven’t you killed me yet?”. Wilbur thought about it for a moment and then answered. “How could I kill a child?”. He looked down with guilt.
Tommy seemed to understand that fact, although not lightly. The two remained silent for a moment until Tommy spoke up again.
“Y-you didn’t want to hurt them?”, “Not really, but I had no other choice”. And he was honest there, it was the truth. He had no other choice otherwise he would most likely be dead himself, yes it was selfish but out in the world, it was survival of the fittest.
He only hoped Tommy would also understand that.
This time not only did the child let out his tears again but also wailed out loudly, his cries were loud as he let out any emotion he could despite the hoarseness in his voice. Surprisingly, he had also clung to Wilbur, his small fists gripped his sweater and buried his head into his chest. Most probably because he was the only comforter nearby.
Wilbur could only rub circles onto the child’s back as he curled around the small human. He leaned against the wall and held him tight in his arms, his tail also curled around him protectively out of instinct. It was the only thing Wilbur could do.
The two didn’t wake up in the bed, instead, the boy was still sleeping on his chest, fists still clenched but sleeping soundly. Wilbur didn’t dare move for a short while, in fear of waking up the child. From what Wilbur could tell, there was a bright horizon rising in the distance, it was roughly dawn of the next morning.
He sighed, contemplating his actions. One thing he was definitely certain was, he was in for a train wreck of emotions and second, he was going to have to care for a child. Which was going to be a rather large change in his life as a runaway.
Not only that but he was going to have to learn and know how to take care of a small child, especially a human one. But for now, the current plan was care for Tommy within the house and keep him hidden. If he gets spotted, take Tommy, and run.
He laid a hand on the child’s back and could fear the child’s heartbeat which was surprisingly calm, it sort of assured Wilbur. But the moment of peace didn’t last long as Tommy seemed to have felt his claw, and the child woke up.
He opened his eyes to look up at Wilbur curiously, he could see sadness and fear in his eyes, but his mannerisms didn’t display it. He seemed calm to be in Wilbur’s arms. The two continued to stare until a growl could be heard from somebody’s stomach.
Right, Tommy hadn’t eaten in a while. He was going to have to give the child food. “Are you hungry?”, Tommy didn’t vocally reply, instead nodded in response. Perhaps his throat was dry from the amount of crying.
Wilbur then stood up with Tommy in his arms. He made way towards the kitchen where food was usually kept by the humans, as he exited the bedroom he had to bend slightly to get under the doorway as this house wasn’t particularly built for Monster heights.
He could hear a small giggle from Tommy as he bumped his head on the second floor, much to his annoyance but it was also nice to hear the child laugh slightly. He managed to get to the basement while also managing to avoid the basement, luckily.  
Fortunately for Wilbur, he knew how a human kitchen worked as he had been in one a couple of times before, so preparing a meal wouldn’t be any different. He let Tommy down onto the floor as he trusted that the boy could handle setting down on a seat.
Wilbur looked around the kitchen, seeing that there were many fruits, bread, and meat. So, he settled on making a ham sandwich with a side of apple slices and a glass of water for the boy.
He handed Tommy the sandwich, who took it very cautiously but after a minute of his back being turned, he could hear the boy eating the food rather quickly, he was almost worried the boy would choke on his food.
After that, he finished cutting some apple slices and placed them within a bowl while also filling a cup full of water, it was also given to Tommy who ate it a bit more quietly and slower under Wilbur’s gaze, distrust was in his eyes. It was progress at least.
He sat down on the other side of the table, the seat barely supported his weight, but he ignored it in favour of conversing with Tommy some more, who most probably had questions. “So, Tommy. Do you have anything you’d like to ask?”.
The child thought about it for a moment, then asked. “W-What are you?”, “Well, I’m a monster. A phantling to be specific, I’m like a big scary ghost.”. The tone was playful with no malice, he just hoped to cheer up the boy.
He noticed the boy’s shoulders lower slightly as he sat up, his eyes filled with curiosity. “What are you doing here?”, a much calmer tone, fear still there but low. “I was running away from- well, very bad people. People who wanted to hurt me. So, I hid. What about you?”.
It was a stupid question but, if it got the boy to talk and trust him more, it’d be worth it. “I grew up here with Mommy and Daddy, not too long ago there was the Nightshade festival.”. Wilbur knew of human traditions but hadn’t ever heard of the festival, so he asked.
“What was the festival about?”
“I don’t know a lot, Mommy said it had something to do with celebrating the monsters. And we also made wishes, I made one”.
“What was your wish?”.
“I wished for the bestest friend ever…”
Wishes? They were always an interesting concept made by humans. But Tommy’s was honestly sad, a friend? Had this boy never had a friend before?...
Tommy's eyes looked sad at the mention of his wish, Wilbur ruffled his hair in comfort. “I’m sure you’ll meet your best friend soon, Tommy.”. Tommy then looked up to him in what seemed to be excitement, “What did you wish for?”.
“Uhh…”. Tommy suddenly jumped down from his seat, rushing from the room to somewhere upstairs as the footsteps could be heard from above. Wilbur sat there confused for a moment until he could hear the footsteps coming back down from the stairs.
There Tommy was in the doorway, smiling as he held a crayon and paper. He approached Wilbur and gave him the objects, Wilbur looked at him confused for a second. “Make a wish!”. Well, he guessed he’d have to write down a wish.
He gently took the things from Tommy’s hands, which were very small in his claws. He could very easily crumble and crush the crayon. Very carefully, he set the paper down on the table and held the tiny crayon.
He wrote something in Phantarium, his language. It read, ‘⟟ ⍙⟟⌇⊑ ⎎⍜⍀ ⏃ ⊑⍜⋔⟒ ⍙⟟⏁⊑ ⏁⍜⋔⋔⊬.’. Very messily though as he couldn’t write very well with the crayon. Tommy asked, “What’s it say?”.
Wilbur looked down to Tommy and smirked, “It’s a secret!”, “No fair! I told you mine! Tell me!”. Wilbur then folded up the paper and gave it to Tommy, “I’ll tell you when it comes true, but for now. How about you keep it safe?”.
“I’ll do it!”, there it was. A smile from Tommy. One of the brightest he had ever seen.
He had to protect this boy.
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wandsandwheezes · 4 years ago
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Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH5
one // two // three // four
Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, cheating, mentions of the war, desc. of torture, pain, drinking, aftercare.
Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.
A/N // flashbacks in italics - Hopefully this chapter gives an insight into why George is so protective over his girl, but also why Y/N is the way she is around him. 
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There were two times you'd reserved yourself the ability to let loose and have a break, The first was after a big Game, where being absolutely hungover wasn't a problem the next day, or after a big product launch. Fred and George were two men who liked to party hard. Fred loved getting smashed among friends, participating in drinking games and nearly causing a full on riot - a drink to get drunk kind of man. George on the other hand, took a lot to get drunk, he would be waved most of the night and then sober by the time he was home, The one thing however about your boyfriend was that he got handsy and possessive, something that drove you absolutely crazy for him. 
You'd been clubbing in muggle London with George multiple times, using the night as a distraction from the wizarding word, taking a cab home to either his place or yours - more often than not passing out cuddling each other in impossible positions. It was the best rest George got, he was always confused when he woke up to the sunrise or birds chirping, finding relief in him sleeping through the night. 
George's poor sleeping habits were there before the war, however the looming death and the horrible events he suffered seemed to replay in his mind whenever he neared a state of rest. 
// 
The blast in front of him was unlike anything George had seen before with his own two eyes. Through the rubble and dust he saw you hunched over on the ground, coughing up the debris from your lungs. He was silently thanking whatever god that was out there, if there even was one, that he was here in this moment. He knelt down next to you, hand rubbing circles on your back soothingly.
“Baby, it’s ok, I’m here.” When you heard his voice you flung yourself into his arms, not caring about the state of your lungs as you held him. He was safe. 
“Let’s get you to the great hall, you can’t be running around out here like this.” You shook your head, cupping his cheeks with your hands and pressing a firm kiss to his lips, like it could be the last time you’d ever kiss him. You both ignored the metallic taste of blood and dust coating one another as you committed this moment to memory, If people caught you here, in each other’s arms, why would It matter? Secrecy was the last thought on your mind as you pressed your forehead against his. 
“I need to fight, we need to fight, George.” You were standing up, still holding onto him, you were vulnerable like this, you kissed him once more, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “Forever, I promise.” you smiled, pulling him in for another hug. “I love you.” he squeezed you tighter as a response. Before you knew it you were bending down to collect your fallen wand,  running off in opposite directions. 
You were being backed into a corner, slowly but surely. You’d resolved that this was the end. You weren’t sure who you were fighting until they were too close for comfort. Maria Bishop. When her hand touched your arm you were whisked away to another location. Once there you were violently shoved to your knees, winded still by the apparition.
“I always valued the Y/L/N family, you know,” She started, wand pointed at your head, Maria was known by others as ‘The Bishop’ you assumed because she was one of the Dark Lord’s prominent agents, finding and killing muggle-borns and blood-traitors alike, much like the bishop in chess eliminates their enemy. 
“Such a shame you’re not like your mother and father, you would have made a beautiful pureblood wife.” she was laughing as she squatted down in front of you. 
“Where Is Harry Potter?” she asked bitterly. Every inch of your skin was shaking with fear, you had no information, but it’s not like that mattered. “I- I don’t know, none of us have seen him in months.”
She didn’t like that, you didn’t even have time to think or apologise before you heard the word ‘crucio’ fall from her lips with ease. 
The excruciating pain ran through your body, you fell to the ground, writhing as a blood-curdling scream was ripped through your vocal chords. You couldn’t do anything but scream over and over, it felt like your skin was being torn from its muscle and like scraping across all of your bones. She kept demanding, over and over for you to give her information but there was nothing to let out. You couldn’t even picture what Harry looked like, the only thing that ran through your mind was relentless agony. 
You knew you wanted this to be over the minute it started, the pain crept up from your toes to your hips, over your chest and arms until finally it was at your throat. You felt like you were choking, you wanted all of the air to escape your lungs in the hope that the pain would end, but it never did. With every scream she laughed at you, watching as you writhed in pain like it was a comedy, she tried to overpower your shrieks with laughter.  
You suddenly felt all weight lift off of you as the curse faded. Every limb was weak, time was no longer a concept to you, it felt like a lifetime of agony only repressed by a moment of solace, your hand was on your wand and before you could think, you were raising it and muttering the incantation of what you knew you shouldn’t. Her eyes widened, a flash of blinding green light filling her eyes, accompanied by a rushing sound, as if an invisible something was whipping through the air - within an instant she rolled over onto her back, unmistakably dead. The Bishop was down.
//
By 11:30 you were already half gone, If anyone asked, you were most definitely sober, but if the way you were swaying as you stood or your slightly misplaced steps weren’t telling enough, your tipsy giggles sure were. You’d been drinking down gigglewater like there was no tomorrow, making sure that you were well and truly off your face drunk. It felt like most, If not all of Diagon alleys’ daytime bustle had moved into the underground club below Olivanders. The walls were a dark, dusky brown, a perfect backdrop for the flashing lights and strobes. Music was pumping through your veins with every step as you pushed through the sea of people with a drink in hand, you found the corridor, taking a moment to breathe as you sipped on the bitter liquid. 
Moments later you found yourself trapped between a pair of strong arms and the thick cushioned wall, you hadn’t even second guessed the man whose lips were on yours. Your hands were in his hair, pulling him in for a desperate, needy kiss. He was humming against you as his thigh found its way between your legs, letting you grind down against it. The man’s tongue was grazing against your lip, begging for entry - you didn’t even think of rejecting it because the touch felt so familiar. For four, maybe five minutes you were standing making out. You had to admit it felt good, of course it felt good, it was George. You pulled away, gasping for air but also getting a minute to look into his eyes, almost immediately you feel a loss of contact, as the body pressed against yours was stripped from by your side, causing a gentle whine to fall from your lips.
It was only when you blinked a few times that the fogginess of your vision truly got to you as you thought you were seeing double. You continued blinking, hoping the two would form to one, but instead you had stumbled backwards, now leaning on the wall for support. 
George had Fred by the back of his shirt, pulling him away from you, his eyes like daggers as he scowled at his brother. “You can’t use her like that when she’s drunk.” Fred scoffs, the back of his hand coming up to wipe away the saliva that coated his lips, the smirk however was undeterred by the action. “You better wipe that fucking smirk off your face, Fred.” 
The older twin was rolling his eyes, attempting to push past George to finish what he started, however, George’s hand pushed against his brother’s chest pinning him to the wall. “What the fuck?” he exclaimed, shoving George away from him by both shoulders, “Fred, take one look at her, and tell me you're comfortable doing that to her… Merlin, she can hardly stand, don’t be that guy.” 
George was pleading his brother at this point, Fred sighed as he eyed you, taking in every characteristic of your demeanour - you were half asleep, leaning against the wall. He watched you try to wake yourself up and push your body away from the wall only to come crashing right back against it.
“I don’t know why you’re acting so protective all of a sudden… I’ll take her home.” Fred sighed, his hands rubbing over his face in an attempt to sober himself up. 
“Fred, wait- I’ll do it.” his twin cocked an eyebrow at him, “I’m sober, it’s fine, you can’t apperate her she’ll be throwing up everywhere.” Fred nodded, giving George a pat on the shoulder as he walked away, “Thanks, Georgie.” 
Your boyfriend's once angry eyes were softening as he looked at you, full of sadness as he watched you struggle. All he wanted to do was wrap you in his arms, and protect you, muttering under his breath, as he walked over to you, ‘let’s get you home then, angel.’ 
“Y/N, my love, it’s George, I’m gonna take you home, alright?” George was speaking so softly that you immediately felt at home. You nodded quickly, falling into the familiar pair of arms that were now holding you, giving you the anchor to finally walk again.
George led you out of the club and walked slowly with you as you stumbled step by step all the way down the quiet diagon alley. He got you into a cab as you both stumbled out of the leaky cauldron, the horns and chatter of London beaming around, it truly was a city that never slept. He had his arm wrapped around you protectively as you cuddled into his side, the sound of his beating heart slowly brought your racing thoughts down to earth. The way you were curled up against him reminded him of a moment from the war he’d never forget.
//
Your fingers trembled and shook so much that you could no longer control the grip of your wand. It truly sunk in that what you had done was unforgivable. You’d taken someone’s life. You rationalised with yourself that you had done it for your own good, to protect others, the ones you loved and cared for, but more importantly to protect yourself. You quickly pushed away from the body, crawling backwards until your back hit the wall, it had finally sunk in exactly what you'd done and you couldn't even bear to be with yourself as you buried your head between your knees, as silent sobs choked from your lips. 
George found you like this, he had been searching worriedly for hours. It was pure vulnerability, he saw the body of the Bishop lying on her back, your wand discarded and you huddled into a ball. He didn’t know what to do or how to protect you, he reached out to touch your arm but you recoiled at his touch, pulling your knees tighter to your chest.
“Baby, It’s me.” he murmured softly, his voice cracking as he pushed out a whisper, outstretching his hand for you to take when you were ready. “We need to move you, It’s not safe here.” You took his hand, letting him whisk you away to a safer place, but you knew in your heart there was nowhere safer but his arms. 
//
George carried you up the stairs to the bedroom, sitting you down on the bed, kneeling on the floor as he unlaced your boots, pulling each one off gently as his hand massaged your foot. When he looked up at you, you were no longer sat upright, instead having fallen back against the sheets as you began to try and remove your own clothes, doing so in a piss poor way. 
He shook his head, smiling to himself as you grumbled at your own misfortune, his hands gripped your arms, pulling your wrists to his lips, pressing a gentle and loving kiss to the inside of each one. He slowly and cautiously helped you in removing your clothing, making sure to grab an old tee of his to cover you with when you sat naked on his bed. 
He left to go and grab you a glass of water, as well as some painkillers for the morning. Finding you curled up on top of the sheets while shivering from the cold chill of the room. He chuckled once again, popping the items on the bedside table so that he could sit you up. 
"Can we drink some water please, Princess?" you furrowed your brows, looking up at him as he stood in front of you. His large, warm hand was cupping your cheek softly, as he used his other to retrieve the glass of water, "I'll help you, now open up for me, that's a good girl."
His thumb coaxed your lips open, pressing the cold glass against your bottom lip as he gently fed you the clear liquid, you were gulping it down like you were wholeheartedly parched, he smiled at you when you'd finished, placing the glass on the bedside table again. 
"Well done, beautiful, now let's get you under these covers, that ought to stop those shivers, hm?" Your hands wrapped around his neck as he lifted you up off of the bed, you stood, holding onto him as he flipped the duvet corners open, lifting you up so he could lay you down against the mattress. 
He tried to pull your arms from his neck, but you only held on tighter, keeping him pulled close to you as a pout hung on your lips, whining as he tried to pull away from you. "Cuddle me."
He leaned down pressing a kiss to your forehead, he tucked you in gently, the covers wrapping you up nice and warm. "I'll be joining you soon darling but I can't cuddle you like this, I'll crush you if i lay on top of you now," he laughed, the low hum reverberating in your chest as you smiled at him with a doe eyed expression plastered to your face. 
He stripped his jacked off, changing into some more comfortable clothing so that he could join you in bed. As soon as he sat on the mattress, your head was in his lap, he smiled at the sight, his heart warming as your arms wrapped around his thigh, cuddling into him. 
He felt your shoulders begin to shake, looking down at you he saw the salty tears running down your cheeks as you tried to hold back your sobs. The reality of what happened in the hall of the club was hitting you, suddenly feeling sick to your stomach at the prospect that you had been making out with his twin, all the while believing it was George. "I'm so sorry, Georgie, I don't deserve you, I fucked up and I'm sorry, I just- I thought he was you and I was kissing him back and-" 
George had cut you off by pressing a finger to your lips with a gentle shushing sound, his fingertips massaging your scalp as he played with your hair ."You don't need to apologise for a thing, Princess."
The feeling of his hand as he gently dragged his fingers through your hair was lulling you to sleep, you sighed contently, your heart beating faster as you began to hear the gentle soothing sounds of his humming, a sweet and soothing melody that made you feel like you were in heaven. 
To him you looked like an angel when you slept, his heart resting easy at the sight of you painless, careless and content in the arms and presence of the man she loved so dear. She was like his own little slice of heaven, for him to enjoy on earth, always feeling like the damned luckiest man in the world to wake up to the sight of you. 
You awoke the next morning to the smell of bacon and eggs hitting your senses, groaning you reached over and took the two pain relief, washing it down with some water from the night before. You were dragging your feet along the floor as you sought the arms of your boyfriend, you found him in the kitchen plating up some food. You immediately fell to his side, arms wrapping around him as you groaned, the power of your headache hitting you. 
"Eat up, my Love, You'll feel so much better after." George had prepared you a delicious greasy fry up, knowing it was one of your favourite things to wake up to, he pressed a kiss to your cheek as his hand found the small of your back, "Thank you George, smells amazing as always." 
He smiled, taking the two plates to the dining table, where cutlery and orange juice already lay. You felt spoilt by the man you loved as you wolfed down the food. George made the best breakfasts around, aside from Molly, of course, each component cooked with the special ingredient of never-ending love, making it that much more tasty. 
You were the luckiest girl alive, looking into his eyes, he smiled at you, making you melt, even after all these years. George was everything you needed and more, you were sick of hiding him and he was just as sick of hiding you. Your Protector, Your Lover, His angel.
>>>>> Chapter Six
taglist //  @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn @pigwidgexn@mrmoonyy @mackaywhore @softlyqoos @colorfulprofessornickelangel @fandomscombine @satellitespidey @txtdreamss @aaannabbanana  @starkidpotty @mollydarling-hphm @amwithers2001
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shintorikhazumi · 3 years ago
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(Diakko Week) There’s no way she- (2): “There’s no way she did that.”
@dianakko-week
A/N: BOY, OH BOY. I DIDN’T THINK THIS STORY WAS GONNA GO THIS WAY, BUT HERE WE ARE, I GUESS? Please do enjoy, I’m not sure about the quality of this chap, but I personally am enjoying this story so far an I hope you all do too!
Again, Enjoy?
~Shintori Khazumi
Day 2: Trust
“There’s no way she did that.”
Diana was seething at her desk, Hannah and Barbara desperately trying to calm down their long-time friend with a cup of tea and some rationality.
She wasn’t having it however. Not even the tea.
“There’s no way. There is just no. Possible. Way. That Akko would so such a thing!” Diana growled, head whipping in the direction of her poor friends-slash-secretaries-and-attendants. “Right?!”
Barbara nodded wordlessly, clearly unnerved by Diana’s foul mood while Hannah sighed, moving the teacup away from the clearly miffed Diana before any mishaps could occur.
“Yes, Diana. We think so too.”
Diana released a heated sigh, nostrils flaring as she slumped against her leather chair. Today just wasn’t her day.
Never mind it being only her second week of being chosen for the grand magical council and being harassed with much work simply because she was the youngest to enter at the tender age of twenty-three. That same council of old pricks were now interfering with her personal life by giving her a case that made her burn deep with rage.
They dared accuse Diana’s girlfriend of magical misconduct when Diana-for a fact- knew that Akko read the terms and conditions of being a traveling magician- yes, ALL the terms and conditions- back-to-back. Back-to-back to back-to-back. Diana had found it both unnecessary and incredibly endearing, and sweet Akko- oh, bless her sweet soul- had wanted nothing more than to be able to share the magic of dreaming to all sorts of people, gain experience as she traveled; and hoped to overall just help people along the way on her cross-country journey.
Sure, she had left her incredibly stable position as one of the council’s security personnel, and the job paid extremely well- especially for people who were relatively fresh from school. It really did. However, Diana knew Akko was far from happy with that job. In a somewhat similar position to Diana, she had been made a lackey by her seniors and superiors, and though she loved helping people through her job, it just wasn’t worth staying. She couldn’t even be assigned to Diana! Thus, Akko had resolved to go independent, under strict supervision and conditions.
That had been five months ago.
Sure, Diana had missed the other woman dearly and hadn’t seen her for all that time, but Diana knew this was what the other woman wanted to do- to make people smile. She loved making smiles blossom from one person to the other. Diana wanted to support her in her endeavor. She believed in Akko and in what she wanted to accomplish.
And anyway, Akko had always made it a habit to send one of her familiars to bring Diana little souvenirs of her travels, accompanied by the sweetest words on paper, reassuring her girlfriend that she was well and good, and living life to the fullest, and that she’d surely be back in a year.
She was coming back sooner than they’d both expected, and for reasons neither had desired.
Diana ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, massaging her scalp to nurse the quickly growing headache.
She hoped Akko would come home safe at the very least.
//
“Miss Diana Cavendish. Could you repeat those words to me one more time? I might have misheard.”
“I said. I refuse to vote against Atsuko Kagari’s innocence. I know her, and I know her well. She would never ever do such horrid things.”
Diana watched the council secretary bristle, eyes burning at her response.
“You can never know someone too well. You don’t know what people are capable of. They can cha-”
“And I trust that Akko only ever changes for the better.” Diana cut off, casting her own glare over the two high council members who held the papers and a sum of money in front of her. “I know nothing of what the inner circle of the council has been up to, but I can’t believe they would try something so terribly scandalous such as bribery and false report! Dare I assume you are hiding something worse-”
“One more word from you, and you will suffer the consequences. Not that you already haven’t.”
Diana would have lashed out had she not needed to remain calm for Akko’s sake as well.
“This is our final offer, Miss Cavendish. Push for her guiltiness, or lose your seat in the council.”
Diana’s eyes widened, fists clenching. These people-
“You have no authority over this matter!”
She shivered in repulsion at the grins that grew on their hideous faces.
“Oh, but we do.”
//
Kagari Atsuko, twenty-three years of age, stood at the podium in the courts of magic with steely eyes and a rigid frame. She dared not glare at the jury nor the judge, but she would like to at least show them her determination in proving her own innocence.
Chancing a glance at Diana who was sending her worried looks from the jury stands, Akko reassured her with a gesture that all was and would continue to be alright. Returning her attention to the presider of the meeting, Akko readied her words, carefully crafted by herself and her lawyer who ironically just so happened to be Amanda O’Neill. Akko tried her best to keep a grin from forming at the hilarity of that fact. She was, after all, still on trial. She had to keep things professional.
“Kagari Atsuko. What do you have to say for yourself?” The judge questioned after all her supposed ‘charges’ had been read out.
‘Magical misuse, abuse of title as a former council official, trafficking endangered species across borders, and exploiting my audience, huh... Honestly, what a bunch of-’
“Bullshit.”
Akko’s eyes widened, and so did everyone else’ at the accidental slip-up.
“I-I mean... I apologize, your honor. I didn’t mean to say that. Ehem. I’d like to plead not guilty of these accusations.”
With brows raised, the judge continued on with the ruling, the tension in the room not once lowering. Akko just hoped this would end smoothly, and end soon.
She didn’t know what the council got out of this, to be honest. To go so far as to forge evidence against her, what had she done against them? Honestly, this new council, with almost all-new members weren’t doing a good job in succeeding their predecessors.
If the whole jury hadn’t been bought out at this point, she really could only hope for the best.
//
“Thanks for driving me home, Amanda.” Akko bowed to her friend, clutching her suitcase.
“Hey, hey! None of that. C’mere.” Amanda pulled her shorter friend into a tight hug, patting her back firmly. “I’m just glad it all worked out in the end.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair after they pulled apart.
“No kidding.” Akko chuckled. “You’re the best, bud. Totally fit for this job.” She giggled, as Amanda rolled her eyes with a shrug.
“I know, right? Obviously knew this is what I wanted to do for a living all along.”
They shared a laugh before Amanda had to leave, having work to do the next day. Waving at the car until it had disappeared far beyond what her eyes could perceive, Akko turned to the porch, taking careful steps to the front of the door.
Facing that familiar wooden barrier, she took a deep breath before allowing her knuckles to meet with the hard material.
No sounds, no response. Not even the slightest shuffling could be heard from within. Akko’s brows furrowed, teeth biting her lower lip nervously. This was their house... This was the Cavendish manor... right? Amanda was above pranks as evil as this, especially after what had just happened, so there was no way that-
“Mrrmmhpphhggh! Mmrhg!”
Akko struggled against the hand covering her mouth, desperately trying to reach for her wand, however her assailant had already figured her out, catching her hand and holding it against her back...
-before releasing her completely.
“A-Akko?! I! I’m sor- wait, no time to explain, come.”
And Akko was dragged into the house by Diana herself who rushed her up the stairs and into their bedroom.
“Akko, do you have all your essentials in that suitcase you hold at the moment?”
“Huh? Diana, what is... why are you home already? Don’t you have a council meeting running until late-”
“Grab anything you’d like to bring with you. Hurry!”
“But Diana!”
Akko felt a duffle bag hit the back of her head, and she whipped her head around only to find her prepared glare fading at the sight of a scowling Hannah.
“Do what she says, idiot. And make it quick.”
Diana seemed as caught off-guard by the presence of Hannah and Barbara as much as Akko was.
“You two! I... You can’t be here. Go back to your home, and from this point forward, don’t come back to the manor. I’m relieving you of your duties as my-”
If Akko and Diana’s eyes could widen any more, they’d surely be the size of Diana’s large serving plates. Hannah had clapped her hands against both sides of Diana’s face, shaking her lightly.
“Are you truly going to just leave us?!” She hissed.
“Diana... we know we were wrong to snoop around, but... couldn’t you confide in us for something this important?” Barbara said, teary-eyed. “I know we can’t ever replace what Anna was to you, and when she... when she left, we didn’t know how else to help you after losing your only family. But we still wanted to be by your side.” She smiled, placing her hands on Hannah’s shoulders to rub them, getting her partner to calm down.
“Did you really think...” Hannah sniffed, wiping her tears off her sleeve. “That we wouldn’t make you take us with you?” She finished with a grin. “You are never getting rid of us, honestly.”
Barbara nodded, reaching forward to ruffle Diana’s hair before she was met with a deep frown because of the gesture.
“Sorry, always wanted to try that.” She said, not sorry at all. “To sum all this up, Diana. You are taking us. There will be no further argument.”
Diana couldn’t help the relieved smile breaking across her face, her two longest companions also sporting their own. Tears slipped from her eyes as she pulled them into a long embrace.
“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She sobbed quietly, feeling arms rubbing her back from each side. “Thank you.”
“You better be thankful. We’ll never forgive you if we’re not the maids of honor at the wedding.” Hannah declared, half-joking.
“Wedding?” Diana parroted, pulling away as she wiped her remaining tears away. “Whose?”
Both girls simply rolled their eyes as Hannah walked over to Akko who felt seriously out of the loop. Barbara patted Diana’s shoulder, shaking her head, amused.
“Hannah? Barbara?”
She was promptly ignored from that point onward.
“Come on, idiot. Get packing. I’ll even graciously offer you my superb assistance.” Hannah said with a smirk, opening the closet she knew was designated for Akko’s belongings. “We don’t have all night.”
“I still... I still don’t understand what’s going on.” Akko stated, but began to do as she was instructed anyway. “What are we doing? Where are we going?”
“What part of ‘no time to explain’ don’t you understand?” Barbara quipped, before going over to assist the brunette pair. “I could’ve sworn we informed Amanda about this.”
“Even O’Neill knows?!” Diana continued to be ignored. “Okay, great. So who doesn’t know about this getaway?”
“Calm yourself, Diana. We only told our little circle of friends.” Barbara spoke over her shoulder as they finished closing Akko’s suitcases with a click. “Amanda and Constanze prepared as a cloaked little vehicle until we leave the country. You should be grateful.”
“Jasminka should be here to pick us up any minute now.” Hannah commented.
Diana remained slack-jawed, amazed at the follow-up her attendants had done.
“You didn’t think we’d just let you fly off on a broom in the middle of the night again, did you? Really Diana, we’ve been with you so long, your smarts should have rubbed off on us even the slightest bit.” She grinned. “The magical council really aren’t all that smart, huh? Look at their dullness contaminating our brilliant, Diana.” She shook her head in dismay.
“A shame indeed.” Barbara agreed as they began carrying their luggage out.
“No one’s still told me anything!” Akko announced, scratching the back of her head with her free hand as she followed Hannah and Barbara out with her own possessions.
She turned to Diana at the sound of a lock clicking in place, the former heiress running her hands over the grooves of the wood and the carvings.
Placing her things down momentarily, Akko walked over to wrap Diana in a hug from behind. “I hope we can come back one day. To the place where you began.” She whispered, placing loving kisses against Diana’s shoulders. “I’ll make sure we can.”
Akko’s heart cracked as Diana began to tremble in her arms, a hand going up to cover the sobs that were escaping her lips. All the memories of her family, her mother- they were probably much too painful for Diana to leave behind, but she had to. They had to.
Akko walked the mansion halls one last time with Diana as they locked each door one at a time, Diana embedding every room, every window, every banister into memory.
They finally came to the front door where Hannah and Barbara had awaited patiently, bags already loaded into their vehicle.
“No longer asking where we’re going, love?” Diana questioned Akko who had seemed to accept whatever was happening already.
“Do you trust me, love?” Akko responded with a question of her own, earning her Diana’s smile accompanied with raised brows.
“More than anyone and anything in the world.” Diana replied.
Akko gave her a chaste kiss as they all boarded the vehicle, watching the mansion disappear with an area cloaking spell that would hopefully keep it safe for as long as they were gone.
Squeezing Diana’s hand, Akko spoke. “Then know that I think the same. No matter where we go, how far away we are from here, and what we end up doing, just know... Just like those two dorks there,”
Akko laughed as the two snorted from the seats in front of them, knowing they were rolling their eyes at her.
God, she was thankful for them. For all her friends. For Diana.
Taking Diana’s hand in hers and entwining their fingers together, she placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand, laying all her worries to rest. They would figure things out. They all would- together.
“I trust you with all of my believing heart.”
A/N: WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN NOW, WHERE ARE OUR BABIES GOING? OOOHHH. SEE YOU ON DAY 3!
~Shintori Khazumi
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my-writings-and-musings · 4 years ago
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I was wondering if you could do something with ambulon, possibly fluff? Love the imagines btw
Thank you for giving me an excuse to love on my favorite underappreciated boy. Also, thank you, I love all the inspiration!
The chipping paint was a sore point for Ambulon, like so many other things about himself, but unlike all his other unfortunate traits it was made so much worse by the simple fact that it was impossible to hide. Having an embarrassing altmode, the true reason for his name, even his past as a Decepticon... he could cover all that up no problem. But the constantly chipping paint job? No shielding that from anyone close enough to simply see him...
It was made worse by how often bots tried to offer tips; use a primer, pay for a proper redo, try some new sealant... He knows they mean well, but none of them know what they're talking about, not really. If it was that easy, did they really think he wouldn't have fixed it by now? The Decepticon purple paint underneath was just as fragmented as the medic coded red and white on top, and that wasn't going to be fixed by anything simple.
The truth was "Flaky Paint Syndrome" could have many causes despite manifesting as a single, embarrassing result, and while most bots had poor application or easily irritated mesh to blame, his problem was rooted in something far less corporeal.
He was anxious. Every hour of every day, something had him on edge, and the constant strain on his nerves resulted in chips of paint cracking away from his always agitated frame. It was lucky really, most bots as unsettled as he was developed spark static or overheated and warped joints, his constant buzz of disquiet just made him look somewhat sloppy. Such a personality probably made his occupation seem like a bad choice, but he was content to endure the struggle for the satisfaction of saving lives, and now that he was on the relatively stable Lost Light he was managing better than he had in a long time. Thus, he hadn't had any plans on changing his status quo anytime soon.
Until you had showed up.
He hadn't even met a human before you'd joined the crew, but even if he had, he never could have expected that you'd get tangled up in his life the way you did. Something about you had just... connected with him. Maybe it was the fact that you didn't make fun of him, either for his altmode or his appearance, and also hadn't judged him for his past... Not even the reason for his silly name had made you laugh! He just liked spending time with you, even if it was to do nothing in particular.
As a result of these feelings, a desire to impress you had formed, and he'd actually made an effort to keep up with his looks for a change. Granted, that meant daily repaints completely unaided and in secret, all in his room where he twisted and turned in a ridiculous effort to look good for the person who probably only saw him as a friend. Logic didn't play much of a role in feelings, however.
Of course, it was just his luck you'd walked in on him at this most embarrassing time for the kind of friendly visit he ordinarily would have been thrilled about.
The cry of surprise that had escaped him when the doors whooshed open was impressively high pitched for a bot of his size, but you'd probably been more focused on the paint his startled jump had sent spattering in all directions, though none of it had flown far enough to hit you by some miracle.
"Ambulon, are you okay?!" You shouted in alarm, seeing the flash of red but not his paintbrush and immediately thinking of blood. Though you knew bots bled glowing pink, the instinct to offer aid at the first impulse was just too hard to ignore. Without hesitation, you hurried to get to his side, only growing more concerned as he hid his hand behind his back. Even if this wasn't how you'd wanted your visit to go you cared far too much about the medic to be concerned about such petty things. "What's wrong? Where are you hurt?"
"Who? Me? Hurt?" He rushes in ongoing panic, backing up against a desk to put as much space between you and him as possible. Despite looking ridiculous backing away from someone as small as you, all he can think to do is hide his paintbrush in an effort to save his dignity. At least, what's left of his dignity as he sputters through an excuse made up on the spot. "I'm just, uh... You know..."
Painting a landscape? Applying color to his hab suite? Decorating his medical supplies!?
"Are you painting something?" You asked, moving your small body to catch a glimpse of a bot sized paintbrush in the hand he hadn't done a good enough job of hiding. You figuring out the problem actually seemed to make him panic more, and he twisted again to hide the offending object behind his back, looking down at you as if you'd just stumbled upon him burying a body.
"Of course not!" He said in a rush, lie falling apart when the thick application of bright red he'd applied to his chest dripped downwards from the force of his rapid twisting around. Cringing, he avoided your eyes like a criminal. It would be bad enough if you simply knew about his troubles in any level of detail, but to have personally seen his juvenile and ridiculous efforts to cover up his humiliating condition... Would it be too much to ask that he dissapear at this very moment?
"Ambulon, are you okay?"
Nope, he's not, he won't be ever again but it's very nice that you thought to ask-
"Seriously, look at me."
You're firm but not at all angry as you issue the command, starting to put the pieces together in a way that makes some sense. The medic has had paint troubles more or less his entire life, as you've heard, but they had started to dissapear right about when you showed up. Though you hadn't pried, it had been logical to assume he'd been fixing himself up. Regardless of the accuracy of your guess, however, you know that this bot needs help. As much as you care for him, you simply can't let him suffer needlessly. No matter how often he switches between seeking you out and avoiding you...
"I'm... I'm fine, I promise." He mumbles, feeling like a pitiful failure for not even thinking to lock his door. There's so much to be embarrassed by he doesn't even know where to begin being mortified, but it's obvious the fallout will be a spiral into further humiliation, so he still wants to stall. You'll laugh when you hear he's been fixing himself up in a ridiculous attempt to impress you, because of course it's absurd, and he'll never be able to show his face again...
"Why are you embarrassed about some paint? I figured bots touched themselves up every now and then." You said innocently, baffled as to why he'd react in such a way. Rodimus bragged about redoing his colors all the time, so you'd figured there were no issues in doing so. Was there some other reason this could be considered embarrassing? The only possible explanation required you to go on a bit of a limb, but for his sake you decided to chance it, gulping once before you hesitantly spoke up. "Did you do this for me? Have you been redoing the colors since I got here?"
Ambulon flinched, and you realized you'd hit the nail on the head.
"I'm sorry-"
"For what?" You asked incredulously, head swimming with emotions clustering to be felt first. There was surprise, giddy delight, bashfulness, and even confoundment at the idea you could be in this situation. A part of you wanted to celebrate, but there was still far too much to sort through at the moment. His look of hopelessness exemplified the problem.
"For being ridiculous! Look at me! Pretending if I touch up some rough patches, it'll actually do anything? Ha!" He said, giving voice to the unpleasant uncertainty that lurked just below the surface. Drowning in his insecurity, he frowned hard, the absurdity of what he'd been trying to do all but slapping him in the face. Forget the species difference, you were a vibrant and charming individual who deserved far better than he. What had he even been trying to do? The answer came out of him as he sunk down to the ground and let the brush fall, hugging his knees as the weight of it all pulled him down. "I wanted so badly to look good for you, I lost track of common sense..."
"But Ambulon-"
Unable to hear you, he kept right on going, lost in his own little fog of shame. "You weren't supposed to know... Nobody was supposed to know... But I blew it-"
"Ambulon!"
You couldn't take it any more. The heartbreaking sight of the bot you thought was so delightful tearing himself apart was too much. Ignoring any common sense, you put yourself out for his sake, opening up your heart in the hope that your own vulnerabilities might help him feel better. A tender hand on his own preceded a gentle expression of reasurance as you looked into his optics.
"I'm flattered you want to look your best for me, really. But it's not necessary." You said, suddenly aware that your heart was hammering as you prepared to confess. It was probably about time you cut to the chase, after spending these months bobbing along in uncertainty, but that didn't make it any less scary to be so open. Hopefully it would all end well... "I think you look fine just how you are."
Ambulon felt his processor go blank, and all that he could do was fall back on his usual attitude with a surprised retort. "But I'm a mess!"
You laughed, but not in the way he'd feared. It was a good natured, loving, laughing with him and not at him kind of sound. "I don't care about some paint chips now and then, you goof. Why do you think I'm here?" All of a sudden your fear seemed to be turning into confidence, the anxieties you'd created for yourself melting away as the truth came out. Seeing a towering alien laid low by your simple feelings definitely made it much easier to express them. "I wanted to see you, purple and red and all, because I like you."
Something clicked inside of him upon hearing those words. So much shame and fear dissolved in what felt like an instant, his optics pushing up with his cheeks as he smiled the biggest and happiest smile he could, optics brightening the whole while. It was what he'd wanted more than anything but feared he'd never receive. Unfurling his legs, he leaned down just a tad to get closer. Heedless to everything about himself that had bothered him so much, he spoke softly in return.
"I really like you too."
"I know." You replied softly, looking to the brush that had fallen to the floor and the paint still drying on his frame as an idea hatched in your head. The two of you had a lot to talk about, it seemed, and you had the perfect way to pass the time while doing so. "Now, how about I help you finish up? Don't want all this to go to waste."
Realizing what you were suggesting, he picked up a much smaller paintbrush and handed it to you, still smiling as he helped you onto his desk where the paints laid out for use.
"I'd like that."
111 notes · View notes
flannels-and-fannypacks · 4 years ago
Text
WTWT: The Sequel | Part 4/5 [Reggie Peters]
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pairing: reggie peters x fem!reader
word count: 6.6k
warnings: angst, swearing
a/n: hey babes it’s drea :) hope you enjoy this part and get to meet mimi and my favorite ocs!!! make sure to like, comment, and reblog! also send in your memes because we adore them!
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If Rose thought he was stupid then, he wondered how she would have thought of him now. Incredibly sleep deprived, clothes wrinkled, and a bouquet of flowers he most definitely sat on at one point in his hand. But none of that mattered now. He was finally here in Canada to see you, his most chaotic plan yet.
Penticton was not like Los Angeles in the slightest. Reggie felt as though he was out of place. This city was calm and small, in contrast to his loud and unpredictable life. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to make the adjustment if he had to move here, but he knew he’d do anything for you.
With a shaky hand, Reggie knocked on the door. The door slowly opened to reveal an older couple, one that Reggie barely recognized. Reggie was about to apologize and leave until the woman spoke up.
“Aren’t you that horse boy?” the woman asked, narrowing her eyes. “The one that (N/N) was friends with, right? From Idaho?”
Reggie’s cheeks were flushed red. “Um, Wyoming, ma’am,” he corrected politely.
The woman seemed impressed. “Manners and flowers,” she mused. “Turns out they did teach you a thing or two on that ranch of yours. Come in, I made scones.” Without letting Reggie speak, she took the flowers and shoved them into her husband’s hands. “Earl, put that in water, the poor flowers look parched.”
“Um ma’am I’m not too sure this is a good-,”
“Nonsense, you must have come all the way from California,” she waved him off, “We need to get you fed and rested up don’t we?”
Her husband nodded while finding a vase to put the flowers in. “Best take a seat, son,” he whispered. “Tamara gets a little pushy, so there’s no point in fighting her.”
Sighing, Reggie took a seat on the couch as Earl walked off to the closet.
“I’ll be right back honey,” Tamara insisted, just have to go grab something from the kitchen.
Reggie nodded and sat quietly, waiting for her to return, and when she did she was accompanied by a large plate of what Reggie had assumed to be scones. You were obsessed with them, the cafe you worked at had even started selling them at your request.
“You must be hungry from that flight, right?” she asked, removing her oven mitts. “Have some of these, they’re (N/N)’s favorite, can’t get enough of them.” Without asking for permission, she took a scone and --for lack of better word-- shoved it into Reggie’s mouth. “Taste good, honey?”
They were delicious. Only issue was that they were fresh from the oven.
“T-they’re h-ho-” Reggie tried to tell the woman.
Only Tamara didn’t listen. Instead, she took another scone, prepared to feed Reggie once again. “You’re like a stick, honey,” she scolded with a shake of her head. “I told Eloise about those weird fads in California. Stubborn girl doesn’t want to listen.” Reggie nodded, finally swallowing the scone. Not the smartest choice. “Oh, you’re finished? Have another.”
“No thank-” Reggie was cut off by the pastry filling his mouth.
Tamara tutted, seemingly not noticing the boy’s discomfort. “You know, I remember you from when you were little,” she continued to talk. “Very skinny. But short. You grew quite a bit from last time we visited, right, Earl?”
Earl came back, flowers now in a purple vase. He nodded wordlessly before turning to look at Reggie, his cheeks red and puffed out. Earl’s face showed no surprise. That was his wife, after all.
“Oh, Earl, not that vase,” Tamara sighed, giving Reggie a sneak attack by feeding him another scone. The poor boy let out a muffled groan, but didn’t say anything else. “Get the white one, it matches the flowers’ colors much better.”
“Yes dear,” Earl said, going back to the closet in the back of the house. Reggie slouched back on the couch, hopeless and in desperate need for some water. He came to Canada for you, not to be subjected to some sick twisted grandmotherly world war two-esque torture.
Tamara looked down at Reggie. “You must really like these scones, dear,” she said, visibly impressed. “Have another, there’s plenty to go around. Now I see why (N/N) likes you. You two must really love my cooking, hm? Remind me to give you the recipe for when you go back home. That is, if you want to go home.”
Earl mouthed an apology as he came back with the new vase and Reggie just looked at the old man and questioned whether this was going to be him in fifty years.
Reggie tried to say something but only crumbs flew out of his mouth, stuffed like a chipmunk.
“Hey Nana is someone out here I thought I-Flicka?!”
Reggie turned over to you, eyes wide, face full with scones and he gave you a pained smile.
“Hi Foofie,” he attempted to say with his mouth full.
Tamara pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well, looks aren’t everything,” she sighed. “Come on, boy, swallow before you speak. This is your future bride for crying out loud.”
“Nana,” you whined before rushing over to Reggie, taking a cloth napkin and wiping his face. “You look absolutely ridiculous, Flicka.”
“You lofe me,” he shot back, mouth still filled with scones.
You hummed in response. “Sometimes,” you teased. Tears began to well in your eyes. “I can’t believe you flew all the way here, and suffered Nana’s scone feeding for me.”
Eloise and Mateo walked into the room next looking at the sight before them with great confusion.
“Mom not again!” Eloise complained while her husband just let out a small chuckle, remembering the similar way he was greeted when he was getting to know Eloise. “I’m so sorry Reggie honey, but it’s really great to see you,” the middle aged woman smiled and leaned down, giving Reggie a big hug. “It’s been a while.”
“It has,” Reggie said, finally able to answer properly.
Mateo was next, helping Reggie out of his seat and welcoming him with the same kindness.
“Good to see you son,”
“You too, sir,” he nodded.
Mateo ruffled the boy’s hair before Reggie was pulled in some other direction and out the door of the house.
You sat Reggie down on the porch swing overlooking the rest of the city from where the house stood on the mountain. He could see how the mountains dipped into a valley, surrounded by bushes and trees that faded in the distance, pooling into the crystal blue lake, of which he could see more than one.
His driver had told him the large one was the Okanagan lake, and it spanned multiple cities, the middle point being the city he flew into, Kelowna, the other smaller lake that was more popular with locals was called Skaha.
“You know,” you hummed as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “This is by far the stupidest plan you’ve ever come up with.” Reggie snorted, shaking his head silently. “But I’m glad you went through with it.”
“Me too, I was going to leave a few days after you left, but Rose made me pick up some shifts at her parents store so I could pay for the ticket,”
You laughed softly, taking his hand and weaving it together. “Seems like Rose,” you mused. “How are all of them? I miss them a lot, you know.”
“Yeah, we all know,” Reggie nodded. “Can I just say your grandma is a lot more intense than when we were younger. I legitimately thought she was trying to suffocate me with food,”
“Yeah, Nana does that with all the boyfriends, dad got the same treatment back in the 70s,”
“I hope I passed her test, then,” Reggie chuckled.
“You definitely did, she shoved like five scones in your mouth, I think that’s a record,”
“Pays to have the stomach of a cow,”
“Cows have six stomachs Flicka,”
“Exactly,” he grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “And look at this, no universe, just me in charge, huh?”
“Or, is that what the universe wants you to think?”
“You know I thought you believed in God,” he fired back and you laughed.
“Same idea Flicka, just deal with it, higher power’s got your back,”
Just when Reggie opened his mouth, the door creaked open, revealing Eloise’s head poking out. “As sweet as this little reunion is,” she began sympathetically. “I think you two should get inside, now. You know, the mosquitoes are the one thing that don’t follow the ‘nice Canadian’ stereotype.”
You sighed, nodding. “Come on, Flicka. Sunburns are one thing but I’m not going to help you if you get a mosquito bite.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice, mosquitoes suck,” he said grabbing your arm and pulling you up and into the house.
As soon as you entered the room, Tamara smiled, exiting the kitchen. “There you two are,” she said. “Would you like another sco-”
“No!” both you and Reggie exclaimed in unison.
Reggie’s face turned red. “I uh mean, no ma’am,” he corrected sheepishly. “I’m full, but thank you. They’re really good, though.” Tamara, seemingly pleased with his response, nodded.
“Don’t forget, separate rooms you two,” Eloise warned.
Tamara looked at her daughter with a frown, “You act like you did sneak Mateo in here when you were teenagers. Plus he likes my scones! He’s family!”
“Yeah mom, listen to Nana I’m 22, you can relax,” you sighed.
“I promise no shenanigans,” Reggie added, “Swear it on Tamara’s scones,”
Tamara walked over to her daughter, patting her back. “Let the kids let loose,” she told her. “They’ll be fine together.”
You grinned, kissing your grandmother’s cheek gratefully. “Thank you, Nana.”
“Don’t thank me just yet, honey,” she stopped you. “I still want you to keep your door open. I approve of him, but I’m not ready to be a great grandmother just yet.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not ready to be a dad yet either,” Reggie chuckled. “One step at a time right?”
“We’ll see about that,” you chuckled mischievously earning you a scold from your father.
“Don’t tease the poor boy you’re just like your mother,”
Your mother rolled her eyes, elbowing him not so subtly. “Well, get to bed, the two of you,” she told you both. “I’m sure you have a bunch of things to show him tomorrow, so best get to bed now so you can have an early start,”
“Of course mom, love you guys,” you said, waving to your family and giving your grandfather who had been silent a kiss on the cheek.
Reggie was taken into Mateo's arms for a hug which he received warmly, your parents were like his second parents, they helped raise him, so it was only fair he looked at them that way.
Eloise was next, but along with a hug she whispered in his ear,
“I swear to sweet baby Jesus, Reginald, no funny business,”
“You have my word mama,” he chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek before following you out of the living room and up the small set of stairs that brought you to the rooms.
Your bedroom was small, and resembled that of a child’s. It was a bright pink with stars adorning the walls. Your twin sized bed was in the middle, pressed to the back of the wall. Reggie assumed that not much had changed in your room since you hadn’t been here for years.
“Nice room, Cookie,” he complimented as he set his bag down. “Very um, Disney princess chic.”
You shot him a look before throwing a pink throw pillow in his direction. “Shut up,” you shot back. “My grandparents haven’t really changed up the place. Hell, they still think I’m their baby granddaughter that wears princess dresses all the time.”
Reggie approached you, placing his hands on your waist. “Well, I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a pink princess dress,” he teased. “You’d look adorable.”
“As long as you wear the animal sidekick suit. You’d look adorable,” you mocked.
“Okay, I don’t mean to be a downer, but I’m exhausted, somehow my flight had a connection in Colorado then Alberta, so I’ve been awake for hours,”
“The washroom is through that door, you can get changed and then come and rest on the Aurora bedspread,”
“Looking forward to it Cookie,”
As instructed, Reggie made his way to the washroom and got ready while you did the same in your room, turning off the lights and leaving the door open. When you climbed into the bed, Reggie had just opened the door to the washroom, he was wearing flannel pants and a very large Sunset Curve shirt.
“Did they run out of your size, Flicka?” you teased, in your pajamas, a pair of old shorts and Alex’s sweatshirt you had stolen prior. Not that Alex ever noticed you took it, though. The drummer had a lifetime supply.
Reggie scoffed playfully. “I’ll have you know, this is just my size,” he told you. “Size beautiful, duh.”
You held your arms out to him in a welcoming hold and he didn’t hesitate to fall into them, resting his head against your chest while you pressed a kiss to his forehead.
“Hey, how is everyone?” you asked with a quiet yawn.
“Well, that’s the million dollar question isn’t it,” he laughed. “Bobby drank Rose and Ray’s place dry when you left, Luke didn’t eat anything but Twinkies for three days and wouldn’t leave your old apartment, Alex stayed with him but he was just as bad and Rose and Ray just took time off from everything to take care of everyone.”
“Wow,” you breathed.
“But,” Reggie continued. “They’re better now, they convinced me to come back up here. I think they want to come and visit at some point,”
“I’d like that a lot,” you smiled softly. “To see them all again. Maybe I’ll come back down for the wedding.”
Reggie chuckled, his fingers running through your hair. “There’s no “maybe,” Cookie. You’re going to be there, even if Rose has to drag you while in a white dress and veil. You’re her maid of honour.”
“About that,” you said, squinting your eyes. “Do you think they’re actually getting married? Like Rose didn’t say she told her parents or anything it was all very weird.”
“Oh, no, they’re definitely lying,” Reggie laughed. “But it’s fun to play along, see how long it takes for them to break or you know, break us.”
You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Those two are crazy,” she sighed. “Definitely Rose’s idea, though.”
Reggie nodded, his eyelids slowly closing. “Yeah,” he hummed. “I always thought we’d be the first ones to get married in the group, anyway.”
You chuckled lightly and nodded, “With our track record? Really Flicka? I was expecting at least one of us to get married and divorced first, probably me to be perfectly honest and you would have gone on some self actualization trip to Borneo and then we would have found each other again and gotten married,”
“Borneo does sound nice,” he mused and laughed. “We were never one for a normal relationship.”
You agreed. “Normal’s too boring,” you said. “Where’s the drama in a normal relationship?”
“When you put it that way it makes it seem unhealthy,” Reggie poked you and you squirmed under his touch.
“It’s not unhealthy it’s just… just… spicy! That’s it, our relationship is spicy,”
“So were those dances Mrs. Leona taught us,”
“Oh Tamika! She’s such a sweetheart, I went through part of my practicum with her,”
“You’re on a first name basis with her?” Reggie asked, surprised.
“Well, I am almost a teacher now so yeah,” you nodded. “Still wouldn’t let go the whole deal with us having unparalleled chemistry,”
“Why am I not surprised,” Reggie yawned loudly.
You tilted your head upwards to see Reggie, barely staying awake. “Okay, we definitely should go to bed now,” you told him. “You look beyond exhausted.”
“I feel beyond exhausted.”
Laughing softly, you snuggled yourself closer into Reggie’s chest, his arms finding their place around your waist. “Goodnight, Flicka,” you whispered. “I’m glad the universe brought us back together.”
Reggie hummed in response. “I’m glad, too. I love you, Cookie.”
You woke up the next morning to the loud sound of banging. Sitting up abruptly, you turned to see the other side of your bed empty. You frowned to yourself. Were you just dreaming? Did Reggie not actually come to Canada?
“YOU HORSE BOY, I TOLD YOU TO ADD SUGAR! WHAT IN YOUR RIGHT MIND MADE YOU THINK ADDING SALT TO PANCAKES WAS A SMART DECISION?” you heard your grandmother yell.
You let out a sigh of relief. Reggie was here.
“I’m sorry!” you heard him yelp. “They look similar, so I-”
“Oh, these Brandanowitz women, worst taste in men, I tell you,” she grumbled loudly. “None of them can choose a man who knows how to cook!”
Rushing down the stairs, you poked your head around the corner to see your grandmother, father, and Reggie trying to cook. Your father seemed to have taken a major offense to your nana’s comment.
“Tamara, I’ve gotten much better, plus I did teach you how to make arepas,”
Your grandmother narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get smart with me, boy,” she snapped, snatching the pan from your father’s hands. “I still remember the cake incident back in ‘84.” Your father blushed sheepishly before stepping back to let Nana take the lead in cooking.
“Mom before you start attacking my husband you do know that dad can’t cook right? I’d say that proves you have equally bad taste in men,” your mother countered.
“Mhmm,” Earl nodded, not looking up from his newspaper and sipping his coffee. “Very bad taste ‘Mara,”
Tamara shook her head, swatting Reggie’s hand as he tried to taste the batter. “Oh, I know,” she said back. “I just hoped that after five generations of our family choosing terrible cooks, we’d get some change.”
“Reggie’s got some other talents,” Mateo came to the boy’s defence. “An amazing musician, Eloise and I went to a few of his band’s concerts,”
Tamara gave the boy a dead state. “Fiddling with banjos and drums won’t feed you, unless you plan on eating strings,” she deadpanned.
“Actually ma’am my band and I just landed a huge gig at one of the most popular theaters in LA. Our tickets sold out,”
“Are the drumsticks made of bread?” she asked.
Reggie furrowed his eyebrows. “No?”
“Are the bass strings made of spinach?”
“No, ma’am.”
Tamara made a sour face, taking the batter from the table. “Then not my problem,” she said before continuing to make the pancakes.
“Mom,” Eloise groaned, smacking her forehead. “Reggie honey just ignore her, she’s too old fashioned for her own good. We,” she said motioning to herself and Mateo. “Love you and that’s all that matters,”
“I don’t think he’s that bad either,” Earl mused from the table.
“Oh sure,” Tamara murmured to herself. “I’m too old fashioned until you come running back to me for my scones recipe.” She looked up from her bowl of pancake mix to glare at her husband. “Earl, next time you ask for coffee, you’re getting dirt and worms, you hear me?”
The older man only smiled at his wife. “Yes, dear.”
“Good morning,” you said, finally coming into the kitchen.
You went around, giving the routine kisses, saving Reggie for last and pressing a quick peck to his lips.
“Sleep well Flicka?”
“Like a log,” he nodded. “I-I was trying to help your grandma make breakfast but she seems to think I’m a bad cook,”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” you grinned. “She labels to the sugar salt and the salt sugar just to get people, you’re a fine cook Flicka,”
“Tamara!” Mateo explained, completely betrayed and flabbergasted.
The woman shrugged her shoulders, flipping a pancake on the stove. “Serves you right for thinking I’m old fashioned. I can have fun, too.”
“I-” Mateo stammered before looking at his wife in disbelief. “Eloise!”
Eloise smirked as she approached you with a cup of coffee. “You’ll need it if you’re going to tour around town today,” she told you.
“I’m gonna need it if dad is gonna try and find a way to prove he's a good cook, I can see the gears turning,”
“You know I can cook (N/N)! I always made dinner at home,” he insisted. “Now what do you like more, my empanadas or tira de asado?”
“Ohh the tira,” you and Reggie both nodded, having tasted the delicious steak already.
Tamara turned around with a plate of pancakes, setting it on the table. “But is his cooking better than mine?” she asked, giving you a serious look.
“Well that depends,” you said, you were always honest with your grandmother, no matter what other people had said, “See Papa can beat you without a doubt on the South American dishes, but when it comes to North American comfort foods you’re the queen,”
“At least you raised her right,” Tamara grinned, pinching her granddaughter’s cheek.
The rest of breakfast went by smoothly, with Tamara only threatening to make Mateo sleep on the roof once, a new record. Regardless of the constant threats Mateo loved his mother in-law, that was a fact.
You ran back up to your bedroom to get dressed for the day, while Reggie was held back by your dad, more likely than not to help clean up the mess that they made in the kitchen with Tamara.
But downstairs, Reggie was sat down by Mateo and Earl, serious expressions on their face. Eloise and Tamara were nowhere to be found, but Reggie wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.
“What’s up?” Reggie asked to break the silence, despite the erratic beating of his heart. “I’m not in trouble, am I?”
“No, son,” Earl reassured him, sitting down across from him. Mateo sat beside him, patting Reggie’s hand reassuringly.
“We just wanted to have a chat,” Mateo said and Reggie raised his brows, looking over at the two men.
“Am I right to think this has something to do with (N/N)?” Reggie asked and the men nodded.
“You’d be right, sonny,” Earl smiled. “I don’t think we’ve ever asked you how your flight was?”
Reggie shrugged his shoulders. “It wasn’t horrible,” he answered. “But honestly, all that really mattered was that I’d find my way back to Cookie.”
Mateo couldn’t help, but smile, reminiscing the days when he was falling in love with his now wife. “Cookie,” he repeated. “You and (N/N) have the silliest names for each other. I don’t remember why you call each other that.”
“It’s a long story,” Reggie laughed. “I’m pretty sure Flicka’s a horse from Wyoming and well she always did like cookies didn’t she,”
The men laughed and agreed with him. “That girl eats far too many desserts for her own good,” Earl shook his head. “You better keep your pastry stock full at all times once you’re married to her, you hear me? She’s just like Tamara, can never get enough of sweets.”
Instantly, the edges of Reggie’s lips turned up into a smile. “I guess I’ll be needing that scone recipe too,” he joked lightly.
Suddenly, the room went silent. Reggie stared down at the bracelets on his wrists, playing with the loose strings. You had made them for him when you were kids, and he swore to never take them off. And there he was, seventeen years later, upholding that promise.
“Um, sirs,” he began, immediately cringing at the titles. “I-I… you know how much I love your daughter and granddaughter,”
“More than you love Tamara’s scones?” Earl cut in with a teasing wink.
“Oh yes, much more,” Reggie laughed nervously. “More than anything in my life, to be honest. And actually,” he reached into his pocket, pulling out a velvet box and showing Mateo and Earl. “I-I really want to ask her to be my wife. I just thought maybe I could ask for your blessings first.”
Earl and Mateo fell silent once more, making Reggie stammer sheepishly. “I promise you, I’ll keep my pastry stock filled and everything,” he rushed. “I’ll buy the entire company of cookies if it meant she’d be happy. Hell I’m prepared to move here, I’d do anything for her,”
Reggie pulled out the ring from the box, fiddling with it anxiously. “I’m ready to even give up music, if I have to. Because she’s worth everything to me. I’ll take up a job here, a-and I’ll learn how to cook, too. Cookies, scones, tira de asado, whatever she wants to make her happy. I know I don’t have much, e-even my family is falling apart, but I promise I’ll make her my first and only priority, sir and...sir.”
Earl glanced over at Mateo. “If you don’t approve of this young man, I’ll marry him myself,” he said with a grin.
“Reggie, Eloise and I always had a hunch that you’d be the one for (N/N),” Mateo explained. “You’ve been like a son to us and we watched you grow up into such a fine young man, I don’t think there’s anyone more perfect to be my daughter’s partner for the rest of her life,”
Reggie nearly dropped his ring. “Wait, really?” he stumbled over his words. “Like...you’re allowing me to propose? Like marry her and-and everything?”
Mateo nodded. “So long as she says yes,” he told him.
“Which she will,” Earl chuckled. “Welcome to the family son,”
Without thinking, Reggie stood up and leaned over and wrapped his arms tightly around them. “T-thank you, sirs!”
Mateo and Earl laughed heartily. “I think Dad and Grandpa will do,” Mateo insisted, patting Reggie’s back. “Now, I think you have a girl to propose to, right?”
As if on cue, you made it to the bottom of the stairs, ready to go. “Ready, Flicka?” you beamed.
Reggie quickly tucked the ring box back into his pocket. “Always, Cookie,” he responded.
Tamara entered the dining room, wearing a large floppy hat and sunglasses. “Yes, we are,” she announced. “Where to?”
Your cheeks were flushed red. “Oh, Nana, we were-”
“I’ve got the keys,” Eloise grinned. “We can drive to Kelowna for the day!”
“I can drive,” Mateo nodded, taking the keys from his wife and sending a wink to Reggie.
A good ten minutes later the whole household was packed into a car, heading out of the small town for the hour drive up to Kelowna, the largest town along the Okanagan lake.
“Oh mom can we go to Moo Lix? I love their ice cream,” you asked your mother, leaning up from the back seat.
“I’m sure we can stop there,” Eloise nodded. “We can walk through the city park and grab something to eat by the beach,”
The drive wasn’t too long, only around an hour and when they crossed the bridge to enter the city Reggie could sense your excitement, finally being able to show you around some of the places you grew up in.
“Excited, Cookie?” he asked with a teasing grin on his face.
You turned your head from the window, beaming at Reggie. “Beyond excited,” you replied, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it tightly. “Maybe later on, you can show me around Wyoming?”
Reggie threw his head back in laughter. “I’d love to show you the ranch,” he told you.
“Good cause I’m not entirely convinced it exists,”
“Oh not with this again,” Reggie groaned and banged his head on the seats in front of you.
Mateo finally parked the car along the front of the large city park, spanning the length of the beach and lake. You were ready to drag Reggie out of the car and try to take him to some of the places you wanted him to see, but you were interrupted by your grandmother insisting you all went in the opposite direction.
“Reggie, I have to show you Ogopogo,” you told Reggie, pulling on his arm. “I need to tell you the story about it, it’s awesome! It’s this monster that’s said to inhabit the lake, you’d love it!”
Reggie chuckled as he tried to catch up with you, running down the sidewalk. “I guess there’s another monster I need to befriend in the lake,” he joked, remembering the lake back in California.
Tamara shook her head at the two, readjusting her straw hat. “Oh, no one wants to see that pile of rubble,” she told you both. “Come on, there are far better things to see.”
“But Nana,” you whined. “I wanna show him-,”
“Come on dear,” she interrupted you and you sighed.
“We’ll come another time Flicka,” you said, wrapping your arm around his and intertwining your fingers together.
“Of course Cookie, I’m yours, for whatever or whenever,”
Your grandma dragged the group of you through the park, explaining the history of certain statues and whatnots. You were paying attention, but Reggie’s focus was on you the entire time, his hand nervously fiddling with the ring in his pocket, waiting for the right time, any time to pull it out. But every time he tried to take a moment to be alone with you, either Tamara would pull you two to another site or Reggie would get too nervous.
Finally, when Reggie got a moment alone with you, it was absolutely perfect. The sun was nearly setting, and your parents had managed to drag your grandparents to the bench to rest for a moment, but Lord knows Tamara can’t sit still for long.
“This place is beautiful, isn’t it, Flicka?” you asked, looking out in the distance. You turned to face Reggie, a mischievous grin on your face. “Maybe if you go for a quick swim, you’ll see Ogopogo.”
Reggie chuckled. “Maybe.”
The two of you turned back to the scenery, taking in the small moment of silence you were finally given.
Do it. Get on one knee and do it.
“Cookie?” Reggie spoke up. You hummed in response, not tearing your eyes away from the sunset. “You talked about the universe bringing us together, no matter how many times we’ve been pulled apart.”
You laughed softly. “Higher powers always have your back, Flicka,” you said, recalling what you told him last night.
Reggie placed his hand in his pocket, about to pull out his ring and propose to you. “Well, I-”
“(N/N)! Horse Boy!”
Reggie sighed, slouching slightly. Dropping the ring box back into his pocket, he turned around to see Tamara marching over to them. Earl was close behind, mouthing an apology.
“It’s getting late,” she frowned. “We have to get going now if you want to get scones for dessert.”
You smiled giddily, kissing Reggie’s cheek before following your grandmother.
The ride on the way back was spent the majority of the time in silence, just resting. You laid your head on Reggie’s shoulder as he stared out the window, frustrated with himself for not proposing today. There were countless amounts of times where he could have asked you, but there was always something holding him back.
Once you got back to the house, you dragged yourself up the porch steps saying you were gonna go take a power nap before dinner and dessert were ready. Reggie couldn’t help, but look fondly at you while you walked up the stairs, yawning loudly. Even when you were tired you were perfect to him.
Reggie couldn’t stop replaying the day in his head. All the missed moments were taunting him. He needed help, but from who? Suddenly, it was as though something clicked in his head.
Reggie entered the home, finding your mother in the dining room with her father. “Hey, um Eloise is there a phone I could use? I’ll pay for the long distance charges,”
“Yeah of course, there's one in the studio room downstairs,”
“Thanks,” Reggie smiled and jogged down to the phone. After taking it in his hands he took a deep breath. This had to be it, what was holding him back.
Dialling the number and hitting call there was no turning back.
The phone rang for a few moment and just as he thought no one was going to pick up the phone line clicked and there was a quiet,
“Hello?” on the other end.
“Hey dad,” Reggie said quietly chewing on his lip. “C-Can you get mom I want to talk to you both about something,”
A long pause followed. “Um, sure,” he responded. “Is everything alright, Reggie?”
“Yeah,” Reggied sighed. He pulled the ring box out of his pocket. Flipping open the top, he stared down at the small jewel resting on top of the ring. “Everything’s fine.”
There was a quite shuffle on the other line along with some hushed chatter before the phone clicked again,
“Okay Reg, you’re on speaker,” he heard his father’s voice once more.
It had been almost three months since he had last seen or spoken to either of his parents aside from getting the confirmation that they were going through with the divorce.
“Um… well,” Reggie didn’t really know where to start, so that’s what he said. “Everything’s a little all over the place I’m not really sure where to start,”
“Take your time sweetheart,” Diana’s soft voice came through. “Your dad and I have time,”
Reggie took another deep breath, “A-A little while back (Y/N)’s parents… they-they lost the house,” Reggie started to explain. “The job market just wasn’t working for them in LA so they needed to move back to Canada. They’re staying with Eloise’s parents for now until they can find work and get settled.”
“Oh wow,” Darcy whispered on the other end, “W-We didn’t know. I’m sorry to hear that,”
“Yeah me too,” Reggie nodded. “A-Anyways, (Y/N) had to come up with them. To stay and I… I just-I couldn’t lose her again so...”
“Reggie,” Diana spoke up. “Are you in Canada right now?”
“Yes?” he answered, more so like a question.
Murmuring followed from Diana and Darcy’s end. “Okay, we’re not mad you went to another country without telling us,” Darcy began. “But a heads up would have been nice.”
“I-I got a job and everything to pay for the ticket. I’m not in debt or anything,” he assured. “But yeah, I guess maybe I should have said something, but you can understand why I was hesitant to call,”
“Sweetheart,” Diana said. “We’re happy you went to follow the girl you loved. So long as you’re safe.”
“We’re sorry for not being the best parents to you,” Darcy added. “But we want to be here for you now. Is there anything we can do to help you with whatever’s troubling you?”
Reggie remained silent, fiddling with the phone wire. “Dad, how did you know you were ready to propose to Mom?” he asked in a quiet voice.
“I-I’m sorry?” Darcy said back. “Son, you’re going to have to speak up, I didn’t catch that.”
Reggie took yet another deep breath. “How did you know you were ready to propose? Like...what feeling did you get? Because I know deep down I’m ready to spend the rest of my life with (Y/N), but something’s stopping me and I don’t know what.”
There was silence on the other line and Reggie cursed in his head, this wasn’t a good idea he shouldn’t have-
“I-um… I don’t really know how to describe it…” Darcy started softly. “It was almost like… like pain, in my heart. When I wasn’t with her I-I just couldn’t function. Your mom she was… she was my everything.”
Reggie could hear his dad faltering on his words, but before he could get any further he could hear his mother’s soft voice reassuring him,
“It’s okay… we just… we weren’t cut out to be married. I-... Reggie I hope you know your father and I still love each other very much. It’s just sometimes life throws you one too many curveballs. D-Do you think you would be able to get past that with (Y/N) if it were to come to it?”
“I would do anything for her,” he whispered.
“Then I think you got your answer, Reg,” Darcy told him, no doubt smiling. “Reggie, I know we haven’t said it much, but I just want you to know that we are so proud of you for growing up to be such a brilliant young man, despite all the things life has thrown at you, what we have done to you.”
Reggie sniffled, wiping away a stray tear. “You haven’t done anything, Dad,” he said, voice cracking slightly. “Life got in the way, you know? I can’t blame you two for that.”
Eloise poked her head around the corner. “Reggie, dear,” she called out. “Dinner’s ready. Do you want me to save a plate for you if you’re still on that call?”
Reggie shook his head. “No, erm I’m okay, Eloise,” he reassured her. “I’ll be up in a minute.” Eloise smiled before going back upstairs.
Turning back to the phone, Reggie sighed. “I should probably go now,” he told his parents. “But thank you for the advice. It um, means a lot.”
“Of course, Reggie,” Diana said into the phone. “We’ll always be here for you.”
Reggie nodded, gripping the phone tight. “I...I love you,” he whispered, trying to fight back the tears from falling down his face. For once things felt normal. They felt like a family.
“We love you, too, Reggie,” Darcy told him. “Remember to tell us everything, okay? How it goes, if the wedding will be in Canada…”
Reggie laughed. “I will, Dad.”
“A-And, I know you probably have a ring already,” his mother started. “But the one your father gave me is passed down in the family. I-If you want I think we’d like to give it to you.”
“I-I’d love that,” he nodded, “We can save it for the big day… if there is one,”
“I have a strong feeling there will be,” Darcy said, a smile in his voice. “Trust me on that,”
“Well, we don’t want to keep you from dinner, sweetie,” Diana told him. “Tell (Y/N) we said hi, okay?”
After saying their goodbyes, Reggie set the phone down and smiled to himself. For once in his life, everything felt right.
Reggie, not wanting to make them wait any longer, stood up from his seat to join your family for dinner. There, Earl was pouring lemonade in each glass while Eloise set up the table.
Tamara was the next to enter the kitchen with a tray of roast chicken. “There you are,” she spoke up, looking directly at Reggie. “We were wondering where you were. Afraid you’d run off and make friends with the mosquitoes.”
“Tamara’s warming up to you a little more,” Mateo teased. “She’s worries for you. That didn’t happen for me until after (Y/N) was born.”
Tamara rolled her eyes, pointing a carving knife at him. “I’ll have you know,” she began with a pointed look. “I like this boy a whole lot more than I did when I first met you. This one finishes my scones and calls me “ma’am.” You should take some notes.”
Reggie laughed, taking a seat beside you. “Well, ma’am,” he smiled. “I hope you’ll get to see me more often.”
Eloise and Mateo grinned, a knowing twinkle in their eyes as Reggie spoke. You glanced over at Reggie, quite confused. “What?” you asked.
The bassist only shook his head. “Nothing,” he told you softly. Still exhausted from the day, you simply nodded, leaning your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes.
“I’m tired,” you whined in a hushed voice for only Reggie to hear.
Reggie tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear. “Eat quickly, then you can head to bed, okay, Cookie?” You groaned, but listened to him.
“Wow, Reggie,” Eloise mused, impressed. “She actually listens to you when she’s tired. (N/N) never does that.”
Reggie shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a gift,” he joked.
With a mouth full of chicken and rice, you agreed. “He’s the special one,” you teased.
Reggie grinned, subconsciously patting the ring box in his pocket.
Yeah, he sure hoped he was.
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krystal-sylph · 4 years ago
Text
Marble Hornets - Hoody x Reader
So yes, I saw another author do something similar to this in their book on Quotev, and I liked the idea so I thought I'd try it out. This isn't canon whatsoever, it barely has anything to do with the actual story considering it takes place after Entry #87, and everyone is either already dead or gone. It's basically a 'what if' scenario that makes almost zero sense if you look at it from the eye of a critic. Don't judge too harshly! I made it when I was bored and in need of inspiration considering it's been weeks since I last updated this book. I'll give you more details about what I was thinking during this one-shot down at the bottom of the page.
Warnings: Mentions of death
You were walking steadily through the dead trees of what you assumed to be Rosswood Park, completely lost but also not really trying to find your way out. Why would you? You had nothing to go back to. All of your friends were either dead or missing, and your family... well, let's just say your family didn't exactly want you with them, which is why you stuck so closely to Jay, and Tim, and the others. But now you had nobody to stick close to. They were all gone.
The last thing you remembered was helping Tim fight off Alex in the old high school, then when Alex had been killed, you passed out and somehow woke up in Rosswood. More whacky teleportation, probably. Either that or you were sleep-walking, which wouldn't really surprise you considering everything you've done the past few years. 
You also managed to unmask that hooded figure and were more than astonished when you saw Brian, your boyfriend that had gone missing all the way back in 2009 and was the whole reason you got involved with Jay and this mystery in the first place. You weren't sure how to react, you felt a rush of relief, shock, and anger all at the same time. He wouldn't wake up, of course he wouldn't. He had just fallen from a fifteen-foot window and landed on concrete. He was dead, and you knew that, but a part of you didn't want to accept it.
You hadn't got a lot of time to try and get him medical attention, for the Operator once again showed up and ran you and Tim off, then Alex got in the way, and well, here you were. Thankfully, you had woken up with your phone, but it was quickly losing battery so you tried calling Tim one, two, three, four times. He never answered, which lead you to believe that he, too, was gone. That left you all alone, stranded in the woods, with no one to turn to. Nobody to live for.
It felt bad enough not knowing where Brian had been all of this time, and you started believing that he was actually dead, no matter how much you denied it. But then finding out that he had been alive through the whole thing, and was watching you, well aware of how frantic you were over his disappearance, and had plenty of chances to reveal himself to you but never did? It hurt. And it made you mad. How could he do such a thing? It felt like the ultimate betrayal, and it really was in a way. If he was trying to protect you he was doing a poor job of it. 
But now he was gone, and for good. You saw proof. You saw his motionless body more than once, and it made you want to rip your heart out of your chest and throw it to the floor. And you would have, had he not already done it for you. Losing him not once, but twice? You were already experiencing the pain from Jay's death, but discovering that your boyfriend had also died? Indescribable grief is what you felt. Your heart ached, your mind throbbed, the tears wouldn't even come to your eyes anymore. You had cried them all out. 
You truly had nobody. Your feet scraped across the dirt and pebbles beneath as you continued wandering aimlessly through the forest. Where were you going? You couldn't even bring yourself to care. Your stomach rumbled, your throat was dry from dehydration. How long had you even been out here? At least two days. It was cool out, but not dreadfully so, being only June. The oversized hoodie Brian had let you have prior to all of this chaos was keeping you plenty warm, however, it only made you even more depressed. This was the last thing that was left of him. You would die in it for all you cared because you sure wouldn't be taking it off.
If you got close enough, you could still smell his scent, if only faintly. It brought you a sense of dread, but hopeless joy as well. You couldn't quite explain it. The Operator, or whatever that thing was, hadn't messed with you at all. Why? Who knew. Maybe it moved on to someone weaker to pursue, seeing as how its original victims were long gone. Or maybe it just slunk back into its weird underworld, its Own Zone, or whatever. Just as long as it left you the heck alone. You were not in the mood to be played with. After all, it was the cause of all of this. It's the reason your boyfriend was dead, the reason Alex went crazy, the reason everyone was so unstable. The reason that everyone you ever loved, who ever loved you, was gone. 
It was extremely difficult to process. How could any of this have happened? You were just a normal girl with a normal life, with normal friends, with a normal boyfriend. At least, most of your friends were normal. Turns out Tim was the one that it attached itself to first. He was patient zero, in a way, but you stopped blaming him long ago. It wasn't his fault. Yes, he should have told you and Jay sooner, but what would be the point in being angry at him now? He was inevitably deceased, too. 
You missed Jay, Tim, even Alex, as much of a jerk as he had been. You missed your other friends, but most of all you missed Brian. He was the one that had been with you when personal problems wouldn't stop messing up your life, he was the one that stuck by your side the whole time. He had been the epitome of a loyal and perfect boyfriend, and to find out he had kept the fact that he was stalking you and Jay for who-knows how long a total secret? It was disappointing. But what were you going to do, now? He was gone, it didn't even matter, anymore.
You kept your gaze trailed on the ground as you took weak steps through the trees, stuffing your hands into the pocket of the hoodie and not thinking about anything in particular. There was no doubt in your mind that Brian had been trying to do what he thought was best for you, as he likely thought that revealing himself after so long would put you in danger. But you were already in danger. Maybe he was afraid of what your reaction would be. Good, he should've been, because you would have been furious. You still were furious. You trusted him. You spent five years looking for him, worried sick about him, and he was watching you the whole time? Watching you suffer? Not doing anything about it?
Sure, Totheark was one thing, as he made it abundantly clear that he was trying to point you and Jay in the right direction several times, along with the masked figure, who was Tim, and another unknown person who had never been revealed, but it had also seemed like he was taunting you sometimes. Had he really changed that much? Did he just not care? You know that you had changed in major ways since the investigation started, but you had never stopped caring about your friends. About Brian. In fact, your love for them is what spurred you on. It was the only reason you got involved, to start with. Because you wanted them to be safe. You wanted him to be safe. 
And he practically just spat all of your hard work back in your face. Understandably, you were vexed, but the sorrow topped the anger. It didn't matter if you kicked a tree. It didn't matter if you screamed. It didn't matter if you cursed your screwed-up life, cried about your losses, or just downright died because of it all. Everyone you loved had been taken from you. Why were you the one survivor? Why couldn't it have been someone stronger, someone who deserved it? Someone like Jay? You had been briefly acquainted with him thanks to him knowing Alex, but when all of this chaos took place, the two of you got exceedingly closer.
You had been there for each other, through all of it. He was probably the one person you trusted most in this world because even though he was stressed, likely more than you were, he never lost that aspect that made him, well, him. He never let the Operator get into his head to the point of it changing who he was. Sure, the past few months he had been easily irritable, but you were, too. And the both of you had become pretty paranoid, but who wouldn't in that situation? The point is, you two stuck together. That's what got you through everything, your friendship. He was the only one you could truly count on.
And what happened to him? He was brutally ripped from your life, all thanks to Alex. All thanks to the Operator. And you didn't even get to say goodbye. He was just gone, and right behind him was Brian, then Alex, and now Tim. Every single person whom you ever cared for, now dead. Never to be seen, again. You had nobody else to try and protect, nothing else to do. You didn't have another reason to continue fighting. You didn't even want to find the way out of this park. You had nowhere to go that wouldn't bring back loads of painful memories. 
So you figured, you would wander around until you eventually just dropped dead. Is it possible to die from mental agony alone? If so, that would surely be what took you out, if lack of water and food didn't do it first. A gust of cool breeze swept through your tangled hair and, for a moment, you felt more human. It merely lasted a moment, but it still felt nice. What drew your attention was a sudden snap of a twig, and you jerked your head to the side, a bit startled by the noise. You saw nothing hiding behind the trees, then again it wouldn't be the first time you failed to see when somebody was watching you. But all of those people are gone, at least the ones you knew about. 
So what if you were being recorded right now? It wouldn't surprise you. You didn't even care. You just wanted the pain to stop. Besides, it was probably only a squirrel or some other harmless woodland creature minding its own business. No need to worry about it. A disconsolate sigh escaped from between your lips and your gaze once again averted down, eyelids beginning to feel heavy. When was the last time you actually had a solid night's sleep? How long had it been since you weren't plagued with terrible nightmares, or an ever-present fear of being killed, or endless worrying about your missing friends?
It had to have been in 2010, right? That was when everything began getting more complicated than you could have ever imagined. If you had a second chance, would you have just brushed Brian's disappearance aside and gone on with your life as if nothing had ever happened? Would you have been able to ignore it all and avoid the inevitable trouble you'd get into? The answer you came to is no, probably not. Brian meant too much to you. There would be no way to simply move on without digging at least a little in an effort to get to the bottom of what happened. 
Your head snapped up again when you heard yet another sound, this time it seemed as if a small rock had been crushed farther into the dirt, and right in front of you. What you saw made you gasp and stumble back from surprise alone, your foot catching on a root and making you fall on your back. You gaped up at the figure standing only three feet away from you, trying to comprehend how exactly this could have been possible. It isn't possible. Right? No. No, it isn't. So how was it happening?
He tilted his head to the side slightly, as if confused why you were reacting the way you were. Oh, gee, I wonder. It isn't exactly normal to see somebody who died standing directly in front of a person. You didn't speak, not for a few minutes, anyway, and neither did he. The nerve. You'd think he'd at least have the decency to say, "hi, I've risen from the grave, wanna go get a coffee?". 
But nope. Not a word. Your eyebrows furrowed as you finally came to a reasonable and most likely conclusion. It was a hallucination. He was a hallucination. A mere image your mind created to deal with your grief. What else would it be? Real? Absolutely not. There was no way, it was only your imagination playing cruel tricks on you. "Go away," you muttered, voice scratchy due to not speaking nor having anything to drink. He didn't listen, he only continued to stare down at you, though you couldn't sense any type of malice, irritation, or even sympathy emanate from off of him. In fact, he seemed almost... curious. 
You sent him a glare, trying to keep your composure and act as if seeing him didn't make you want to break down into tears for the hundredth time and wish that he was still here with you. But he wasn't, this was only your mind playing games with you. And you were sick of it already. 
"I said, go away." Slowly, you pushed yourself to your feet, not taking your eyes off of the hooded man in front of you, and when he still wouldn't listen, you hardened your voice. "I don't need you here." He waited a moment before taking a step forward, indicating he still refused to get out of your head. What could you have done in this situation? It isn't easy escaping your memories, even though the only thing you wanted to do was escape them. This one, in particular. 
His hands were dangling by his sides casually and his ski mask did everything to conceal his face and any emotion that may have been in it, which was the point of it, you supposed. And you were inwardly thanking your mind for coming up with an image of what Jay's followers on Twitter dubbed 'Hoody', instead of what you absolutely did not want to see, which was Brian. Not the hooded figure, just Brian. Your boyfriend. Or late boyfriend, now. 
You let out a resentful growl, scooped up a small rock from the ground, and lobbed it at the hallucination, hoping that once it went through him that he would disappear and leave you alone. This was too much to take for your vulnerable, broken state right now, and you just wanted it to stop. However, something happened that you most certainly did not expect. The rock, instead of flying right through him as it should have, hit him below the shoulder with a soft thud before bouncing off and landing on the dirt, once again. 
Not only did it hit him as if he were an actual, physical being, but he flinched back at the sharp impact and craned his neck down to look at the rock that had just been thrown at him, then focused his vision back on you, the girl standing with wide eyes and a confused expression clear on her features as her body went rigid. What was that? Plainly, you were losing your marbles in more ways than one. Hallucinations aren't real things, they're in the mind and in the mind only. So how did he, a hallucination, block the path of a rock, a very real, very concrete item, to the point it couldn't only be heard when it hit him, but it bounced off of him?
Still, he didn't say anything, and the silence around you, save for the tweets of birds and rustling of leaves, nearly made you crazy. Why were you doing this to yourself? Surely you had suffered enough, already. Why couldn't he just go away? You clenched your fists, in anger or as a way to gather your bearings, you weren't sure, and bit the inside of your cheek. What were you supposed to say? This couldn't be real; Brian was dead. It would be impossible for him to be here with you. Unless there was somebody pranking you to get some kind of reaction out of you. That would be the only logical explanation. 
"This isn't funny," you snapped, shooting daggers at the person still ahead of you. "Get out of here before I make you." With that, you stomped around him, making sure to keep your distance as you continued on your way, trying to forget about him. You shook your head in disbelief. How dare somebody play with your emotions like that. But how would anybody know where you were? How would somebody get an outfit exactly like Br... like him? Unless they stole it off of his dead corpse, which is a thought you really didn't want to consider too much. 
Who would ever prank you in such a way? Who would find you all the way out here? You couldn't be tracked—your phone had died after the first couple of hours you had been out here, and even so, you had ended up throwing it into the brush of the woods miles back. You figured that you'd never need to use it, again, since you planned on just dying deep in the forest soon. And they couldn't have followed you, not for so long without you noticing. The more you thought about it, the more it just didn't make sense. Everyone that had been keeping tabs on your and Jay's story likely thought you were already dead, so it couldn't have been one of them.
Your train of thoughts was derailed when you heard, what sounded like a leaf crunching behind you, and hesitantly looked back, seeing just what you expected to find; the same hooded figure, tailing you, though not to the point of it invading personal space. You didn't care though. It was disconcerting, especially since you had just disproved your theory about it being a prankster. This wasn't a prank, everyone who knew about you was dead. That should have included Brian, and you thought it did. Could you have been wrong...?
No. No, he was dead. So maybe it was just an extremely vivid hallucination after all? Then how did a rock bounce off of him? Could you have imagined the rock? No, the rock was real. He was not. It was beginning to get darker, you could tell by the way the sun fell past the trees and the sky faded into a deeper shade of blue. The cicadas began to chirp persistently, and in only a few minutes your eyes would once again have to get adjusted to the change in lighting.
Exasperation grew within your chest, as well as a flaming desire to get rid of him, and you spun fully around until you were looking directly below the red eyes that were painted onto his mask, where you assumed his actual eyes to be. An indignant huff left your mouth and you took a step forward, fixating on him with a threatening scowl and talking between your teeth. 
"Go away." Your tone left no room for argument as the sentence slowly came out, but still, he stood there. Not a word came from behind the mask, he just stayed still. Staring at you. A move that finally made all of your anger rise to the surface, and you didn't even try to contain it. You just wanted him gone. "Leave. Me. Alone!" 
In one quick movement, you took another step forward, stretched your arms out, and with all the force you could muster up, pushed him backward. It must have taken him off-guard because he did nothing to stop you, nor could he catch his balance before he tumbled to the ground with a thump. You sucked in a sharp breath, trying to calm your racing heart. You didn't expect to touch him. You didn't think there was anything to touch. But you could feel him, and clearly, he felt you, too. You blinked down at him with puzzlement, unable to fight the tears any longer.
You couldn't handle this. It was too much, it was just too much. You only managed to take two steps back before your legs became jelly and collapsed beneath you, sending you falling to the ground on your knees. You didn't mind it, not right now. You just had to compose yourself enough to get away. But something in your mind told you that wouldn't be very easy. 
You allowed your hair to fall in front of your face as you tilted your head toward the ground below your trembling frame, screwing your eyes shut in an effort to stop the constant flow of tears from cascading down your cheeks. That's odd, you were sure that there were no more tears left to cry. Perhaps your body was saving them for this moment because it knew that it was going to torment you even moreso than it had, already. When would it all end? Until you died, probably. Quiet whimpers exited your mouth, you didn't bother trying to stop them. There wouldn't be a point. You were alone, anyway, no matter how much your mind wanted to convince you otherwise.
"Please go away..." The sentence came out as no more than a pained whisper as you hugged yourself, trying to come to terms with everything. It was bad enough that he died right in front of your very eyes, but now your mind was taunting you by making you think he was actually here? You could hear the faint sound of pebbles being displaced as if someone was drawing closer, and sniffed. "I love you too much. I miss you too much. Please, just... just leave me alone." Your voice cracked, though it wasn't extremely noticeable thanks to how low it became. 
After a minute, you thought that your ears picked up muffled, gentle breathing, and you knew for a fact it wasn't you. Finally opening your eyes, you slowly leaned your head up, a bit surprised to see him not only in front of you but on his knees looking at you through his black and red mask. He was mere inches away from you now, and you weren't sure what to do. He obviously wasn't going to leave. Your mind wouldn't give you a break. Or was this really just your mind? Of course, there was no other reason. Brian wasn't here. Brian was dead. Even if it was him, he would have said something to you. Well, at least your Brian would have. 
You weren't really sure what the new Brian would have done. After all, he went years without letting you know that he was so much as alive rather than dead like you presumed but didn't want to believe, and instead stalked you and your best friend, threatened you, taunted you, and lead you on wild goose chase after wild goose chase. It was unknown if the 'new' Brian would have even alerted you of his presence like this one. Probably not. He would have just recorded you from behind a tree, stay far out of your sight, and then used the footage to send some type of cryptic message in binary through Youtube that would take you and Jay hours on end to solve. 
But this one, he wasn't acting nice enough to be your Brian, nor was he being mysterious enough to be Totheark Brian. He seemed almost... vague. Confused, curious. And it greatly addled you. If it somehow was Brian... why would he be acting so strangely? Who knew. Being pushed from a window would have its effects on a person, you supposed. But how would he have been here with you? He died. He wasn't breathing, his heart wasn't beating. You saw it. So what were you seeing now?
Reaching up slightly, you put your hand on the top of his knee, your breaths turning shaky. You could still feel him. You could touch him. You can't touch hallucinations, right? Leisurely, your fingers moved up to his hands that were placed on his thighs in a relaxed manner and grabbed one cautiously. You squeezed it, and it took a moment, but he squeezed back. As if following your lead. It was warm, and you could feel skin and bone beneath the glove he wore over it. Hallucinations aren't warm. 
You scooted just a little closer and put both hands on his chest, giving it a light, effortless push to see if he reacted. He tipped back briefly before stiffening, posture becoming more solid. Your touch traveled up to his shoulders as you scooted even closer, tears glistening in your eyes as your intent gaze went up to his masked face. Would he let you remove his mask? It was the only way to tell for sure if he was actually Brian, or if he was just an imposter. You were afraid of either possibility. 
There was hardly any doubt that this was an actual, physical person in front of you. The question was, is it the person you thought it may have been? Did you even want it to be him? You didn't even know what you wanted. You paused your movements before feeling faintly around his throat for the hem of the mask, thankful when you found it without much trouble and began sliding it upward. 
Only then did his hand come up and wrap around your wrist, firmly but softly, and you flinched a little from the sudden action. You knew what he was saying. 'Don't'. "Please," you started in a tone so quiet that nobody could hear it unless they were right beside you. "I...I need to know." It took around thirty seconds until he finally let go, albeit slowly, and brought his hand to rest in his lap, once more, giving you complete access.
You gulped and pulled the mask off, eyes widening when you saw the sight that awaited you. It was him. It was Brian. His hair was quite a bit longer than it was the last time you had seen it, and now messy, too, his eyes were still that deep shade of brown that you fell in love with, and his lips were set in a mellow frown. He looked almost exactly like you remembered him. But something was... different. Maybe it was the paleness of his skin or the confused, unfamiliar look in his eyes, but something wasn't right.
He stared back at you, eyebrows slightly furrowed in what you recognized as perplexity. You ran your finger along his cheek, his lips, through his hair, as if to make sure he was real. This shouldn't have been possible. He died. How would he have been reincarnated? Without you knowing about it, especially? All of these questions and more flew by in your mind, but each one was only there for a couple of seconds before the next one appeared. You couldn't process any of them right now. You were too focused on the man sitting here, right in front of you, in arms' reach. 
You dropped his mask to the side, eyes collecting even more tears as you parted your lips in utter disbelief. "Brian..." Saying his name seemed to spark some sort of recognition within him because he tilted his head and brought his own hand up, wiping away a droplet that was slipping down your cheek and almost studying you with curiosity present in his brown orbs. This made your heart clench. What on earth was happening? All of your friends were dead. What was this one doing coming back?
You couldn't stop the weak, pathetic whimper that left your mouth as your heart rate increased, unable to fully comprehend the unspoken information that had delivered itself to you. The only thing you could think about doing was bringing him close and refusing to let go, which you did. Your arms wrapped so tightly around his neck that it's a wonder you didn't break bones, and your head leaned against the side of his own, letting out heartbroken sobs that you didn't even know existed, anymore. 
It didn't take long before you felt his arms snake around your torso, pulling you closer to him as well and enveloping you in a hug that was an odd mix of comfort and confusion. You didn't care, though. All you wanted was to stay in your boyfriend's, who was presumed dead, embrace, and never let go. You didn't need to know the answers, not right then. You had gone five whole years without his touch, his voice, his presence, and you weren't going to waste this chance on searching for an explanation. You just wanted him. You needed him. You got the faint feeling that he needed you, too, whether he realized it, or not.
__________
So... yes. I liked the idea and wanted to write it, mainly because I think the whole 'Hoody tilting his head in confusion' thing is really cute xD Don’t say anything, you know you do, too. 
Anyway, what I was thinking is that basically... Brian did die but he somehow came back to life after the events in Entry #87 but nobody knew it. It's Brian that came back to life, but he's kinda different? He had his memory almost completely wiped and can't really talk because he's dead. He's a physical being, but he's like a ghost? It doesn't make a whole lotta sense, lol. He remembers very significant people that were in his life, in a way that he feels connected to them and has an instinct to protect them, but he doesn't remember them as we would think. 
Is that like, way too confusing? I'm sorry, it's not a thoroughly-planned idea, in fact it's very vague. I just love Brian so much and it absolutely killed me when he died in Entry #83, so I wanted to bring him back! Even if it's for unexplained reasons. Heck, I don't even know how he came back. Vengeful spirit? Pure magic? Extreme love for his girlfriend that refused to let him rest in peace without knowing she's safe? I think I like that the best.
Also, I was sneaky and put a little reference from Joseph DeLage's live stream on Marble Hornets in the one-shot so let me know if you found it! 
I’m well aware that my first real post on this account is about Hoody, and I could give less of a shit if I’m being honest. Brian is baby and I have an obsession with him that may or may not make me dream strange things about him. But don’t we all? I mean, who couldn’t absolutely fall in love with his smile? Or his laugh? Or his voice, or his eyes, or his face, or just every-freaking-thing about him? 
Also this one-shot is crap but I am currently running off of about four hours of sleep and have been for the past two days so my writing isn’t exactly polished and reward-worthy content.
But yes! Hoody x Reader, there it is. Hope it wasn’t too cringy.
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herstoryherlegacy · 3 years ago
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Expect the unexpected
(Trigger warning - lots of throw ups)
This has never really been my motto. Most things in my life have been expected or I’ve had signs pointed out to me that gives me a hint of what lies ahead. I was not expecting to be in the ER tonight. Actually I was just about to put my makeup on and do a lovely couples photoshoot with my husband when I got the call to come to the ER for possible blood clot in my lungs. Let me back up..
I had been healing from my port placement 3 days ago. Yesterday I was texting Juan updates on how I was feeling. I’m extremely thankful he was so diligent on checking in on me. My main concern was the tightness in my chest, pressure where the port is. I couldn’t take a deep breath. I felt better resting. I had even been doing light housework to stay up and active. Today he checked in again. The chest pressure was better. I could actually take a deep breath with little to no problem. Fast forward to this afternoon. I had went down to my best friend Sam’s salon to get my hair styled for my photoshoot. She’s on the 2nd floor and we took the stairs. My favorite part. I hadn’t exercised since my diagnosis and it’s been killing me. I was so active. Upon reaching the 2nd floor which was not far, I was winded. I text Juan letting him know, and he didn’t respond right away. I sat down, caught my breath, and got my hair done. As soon as I parked at home Juan called. He was consulting his doctor and advised I go in ASAP to an urgent care to be seen. I needed an x-ray, EKG, oxygen levels checked to rule out a possible blood clot in the lungs. Fuck me..
Disappointed to say the least. I walked into my home filled with laughter from my girls and their cousins, everyone gathered at the table for a meal, my in laws were visiting. All I could say was, we have to go to urgent care. I didn’t even kiss my babies goodbye 😕 I said goodbye to them but not thinking I wouldn’t be back tonight didn’t cross my mind. Now I wish I had. I arrived at a local urgent care before closing and the first thing I noticed in the lobby were vases of fake sunflowers. By pure coincidence, I use a sunflower background when I update my stories about my disease. I immediately knew this was God’s way of telling me he was with me and that I would be okay. I went into a room to be evaluated, and guess what kind of shoes the nurse was wearing? I’d never seen these before, but white vans with yellow sunflowers all over. There are no coincidences! However I wasn’t helped and was told to go to the ER.
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No one likes to be in the ER, especially not right now. I had labs drawn, and an x-ray which showed proper placement of the port. Luckily Juan was here working and able to be there for my x-ray. He came to see me once more before he left to tell me he was going to communicate with the doctor about my CT and insulin complications. I had mentioned I was waiting for my husband to bring my charger because I was basically on E, and he graciously went to retrieve his charger to give to me. So extremely thankful for that gesture because alone, with no connection to my family in this place, is NOT the business. A charged phone is a precious lifeline so please always keep yours charged! So now..I wait for the CT.
I had been moved all over that ER. First I came to a bed and talked with a nurse. Then another nurse came in demanding she needed the bed. Once I was done I was booted off that bed so fast and into a chair in a hallway. The place was littered with sick people inside and outside rooms. It was so sad and crowded. I do believe I was mixed with both normal sick people and possible covid patients. To say I was nervous is an understatement. Back and forth I went between rooms, chairs, main waiting room, and scans. The longest wait was waiting to have my CT scan. I was in a room with chemo type reclining chairs. This poor girl in front of me was dealing with pain, bad. I felt so sorry for her. She was doing a good job being quiet but her face and body language looked like she was in active labor, though she was not. After watching I assumed she was suffering some sort of abdominal pain. When it was just us two, I didn’t want to make her talk, but I told her that I didn’t know what she was going through but that I was going to cover her in prayer. Her eyes lit up. She said thank you a bunch and I just assured her that I had her taken care of. I prayed with healing words. No matter what situation I’m in, I would never turn down the opportunity to put myself aside and pray for someone else who needed it more. I have failed this test before many times being too shy to pray, but you never know how those simple words of offering someone prayer may help them feel better. I wanted to cry, yeah I was in here for a possible life threatening issue, but I was nowhere as bad off as these people.
So I prayed for her, and eventually it was my turn to go to my CT. I had an IV put in, flushed, and had 3 medications to help me with my scan. One was Benadryl. I was actually glad to have it because I’ll be receiving it in my Pre-chemo cocktail and I wasn’t sure how I would feel on it. Yes it made me woozy immediately, but it was tolerable. Almost enjoyable in the correct setting. Waiting again, and was wheeled over by this super nice guy who eased the stress with good conversation. If you’ve ever done an MRI with contrast..it’s a fucking insane feeling. I laid down, the nurse flushed my IV and added the contrast. She loaded me in and waited a few minutes for it to kick in. I was in the machine for another few minutes and immediately when I was done I felt the warm rush. I’ve previously been warned it makes you feel really warm and almost like you’ve pee’d yourself. Thank god they reminded me because the warm sensation is explosive. It simultaneously felt like hot water was exploding from both my chest outward and my crotch 😂 indeed I clenched my body in case I did pee, but that’s exactly how it felt!!! So odd. Off to wait again for the results. This is where it for torturous. I am SO thankful for my AirPods and this charger. I have a very sensitive trigger to throwing up. Myself, other people, I can’t handle it. I actually did a good job this last week because both my girls got a virus, and I wasn’t second hand nauseous at all, that’s a victory. But in this ER literally 90% of the patients were vomiting 😑 I cranked those air pods to the max to drown out the sound. Closed my eyes. I don’t want what they got. So I’m in the big chair room again, my poor friend comes back in. Still in pain desperate for relief. Then another person, and another until the whole room was filled with us 5 people. 3/5 with vomiting 😕. Poor baby I prayed for got sick first, she was telling a nurse she was getting sick from the pain itself. Then the girl directly next to me. As she was getting her IV meds she started to get sick. It was a constant rush of nurses trying to get those sick bags in time..bless their quickness. I winced and turned to my left as to avoid being there. There wasn’t anywhere I could go where I wasn’t in the direct line of someone getting sick. I was miserable. Benadryl still kicking, I tried to nap, but had to keep my eyes open waiting for my name to be called. Eventually the time came, I was put in a draw chair outside the big chair room and my doctor read me the good news! I had my IV’s taken out and asked if they wanted me to go back into the big chair room (I don’t want to hog the draw chair in case someone needed it) and he said sure, just as I stood up the first poor girl started wrenching and I said “you know what I’ll stay here” and with a laugh the nurse walked back to their station and printed my discharge papers. I was R E L I E V E D. I was as calm in this situation as I needed to be, panicking and stressing weren’t going to help me. Easier said than done, to just not stress, but knowing how much trauma your body goes through WHEN you stress, it just wasn’t going to work in my favor. I came home famished, ate my dinner at 11:30pm, followed by a bag of popcorn, followed by a small serving of ice cream. Then my blood sugars sky rocketed all night 🙃 eh, not a good thing but I will hopefully have that very taken care of soon. Praise God nothing came out of this, each day has its own surprises, not all good, but also not all bad. The day started well with me sharing that my CT showed no cancer anywhere else in my body. This is EXTREMELY good news, and ended with me in the ER. You just never know how things will play out. So hug your kids, tell them you love them, do something fun. Enjoy the day given, because in a flash it could all be taken away ✌🏻
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aliendes · 4 years ago
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One More Day
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shy!yoongi, brother!namjoon, depressed!reader
Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING! heavy angst, mentions of death/suicide, dark themes, mentions of alcohol and drug use, Joon is a straight up asshole I am so sorry (it gets better in the end), reader smokes cigarettes (if that bothers you?), depression/anxiety. This story is in no way meant to romanticize suicide, if you or someone you know is suffering, please call or text 1-800-273-8255.
Word count:  27837 (yikes I am actually sorry) Genre: Angst, fluff NSFW because of suicide mentions?
A/N: Did I write a Christmas story in the middle of July? Yes. Am I sorry? Also, yes. This is entirely unedited and was only meant to be like a 1k drabble. As you can see, it got away from me a little (a lot). I will eventually go back and edit, but I cannot be bothered right now. I’m so sorry for my shitty character development here, I was just trying to get this out of my brain and it just snowballed (hehe) into this monster.  If anyone is interested, I wouldn’t mind doing drabbles about this couple in the future! Send me an ask! This is a work of fiction. Any character names/likenesses are coincidence are are not meant to represent actual people.  **PLEASE READ!: Hi all! This is my first fic that I am posting to this blog. THANK YOU for reading this! If you like this story, I would REALLY appreciate it if you could reblog/comment on the fic. Also! Follow me if you’re interested in my writing. I am currently writing a multi chaptered dystopian AU and will be doing polls on my blog where readers can vote on a couple of aspects of the story. I hope you stick around!
Listened to: Be Kind (Marshmello & Halsey) & Waste It On Me (Steve Aoki & BTS) while writing this. 
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You stood on the deck of your parents cabin, staring out at the frozen over lake, shrouded in darkness. You couldn’t remember what time it was, or really even what day it was, just that you needed to get away for awhile. Your breath was turning into white clouds around your face, and then drifting up into the atmosphere. It was calming in a way. Freezing, but calming. 
It was the middle of December, nearly Christmas, what used to be your favorite time of year. You and your mom, dad, and older brother Namjoon would come up to this cabin and spend two weeks at the end of every year. Your dad and brother would always find the tallest tree for the living room of the cabin, with it’s high vaulted ceilings. You and your mom would spend hours decorating the tree, always turning out like a Better Homes & Garden magazine cover. Your mom loved to decorate, and she was damn good at it. You and Namjoon would bake cookies together, despite your mom’s protests over Namjoon being in the kitchen. He was always a disaster waiting to happen. You can still taste the gingerbread like it was yesterday. You smiled slightly, remembering what Christmas used to be like. Now, Christmas was a shitty reminder of what used to be.
It’s been 7 years since the last time you were all together at this cabin. Nearly 6 years since your parents death, and 3 years since you last saw or spoke to your brother. You knew he was doing well, living it up in the big city of Seoul. He was a music producer, and you would hear about him and his accomplishments through friends of friends. You were proud of him. Not that he would ever believe that, and it’s not like you would ever have the chance to tell him.
For the last few years, you had been coming up to the cabin alone. You always took two weeks off work and spent that time trying to keep your parents spirits alive in the form of Christmas cookies and movies. It was your own way of coping with their absence. Namjoon found his ways of coping by blocking the memories out, you found yours in a glass of wine and a couple cigarettes out on this deck. Speaking of which, you should probably light one up now, you’ve been standing here for a while.
Just as you were reaching in your pocket for your lighter, you heard a snapping sound from the left of the desk, startling you in your place, cigarette still hanging from your chapped lips. You turned your head towards the noise, almost giving yourself whiplash. No one should be out here at this time, you thought to yourself. You pocketed your lighter and took the cigarette between your fingers, slowly walking towards the edge of the deck. Sue you, you had a curious mind. Namjoon always used to tell you it would get you killed one day. Not like you cared much anymore. 
“Holy shit!” you gasped, nearly throwing your cigarette, when you saw a figure walk out from between the trees lining your property and the one next to it. It was a man you didn’t recognize. You squint your eyes slightly to try and see better in the dark. He stepped closer to your with both hands raised in front of him as a way to placate you.
“Sorry! I’m sorry! I -” he started, but trailed off almost like he forgot what he was going to say. You raised a brow at him, still unsure of the stranger. “I’m Min Yoongi, I live next door. I promise I’m not a creep or anything, I just noticed you standing out here for a while and wanted to make sure you weren’t locked out or something, I - I, yeah that sounded creepy. I’m sorry.” He rushed out the last words, looking almost sheepish. 
Cute.
You stood there for a second too long, and Yoongi, as you now knew him, looked almost like he was about to bolt back in the direction he came. “I - I’m sorry, I’ll g-”
“No, it’s ok.” You let out a deep sigh and chuckled darkly, no humor to be found. “You just startled me, is all.” You said with what you hoped was a small smile. It wasn’t, Yoongi noted, but he didn’t care, just glad you were responding at all.
Another beat passes, “... so are you alright - did you need help?” He drawled, unsure of where the conversation was headed. 
“No, no. This is my par- mine- my house. Well, not my permanent house, but you probably already knew that.” You stuttered. He must’ve realized the house next door to him was vacant 11 months out of the year, right?
 “Ah yeah, I kind of figured that out.” he took a hesitant step forward. When he saw you weren’t running for the hills, he slowly made his way into the illumination provided by the floodlights on the back porch. You took in his features now that you could see them better. He had bleach blonde hair that looked a little fried, but that suited him nicely, small, feline like brown eyes, and he currently wore a gummy smile that was quite endearing. Had you not been in a spiraling depression, you may have thought he was pretty handsome. He ran his hand through his golden locks, “This house is usually empty, I only notice it occupied around this time of year. I’m assuming it’s your vacation house? You said it was your parents place, right?” He took hesitant steps up to the deck.
So he caught that. Damn. “Was.” You stated simply. “It was my parents place. It’s mine now, I come here alone.” Yoongi knew that. He’s lived next door for 8 years now, on and off. Every Christmas for the last few years, you’d been alone. He wasn’t a creeper, but he did notice you smoking those nasty cigarettes out on this very deck, alone, every year. He remembers you used to come here with someone. A boyfriend maybe? It wasn’t his place to ask. 
He’s at the bottom of the steps that lead up to your deck, looking up at you with an unreadable expression. Pity? No, there’s no way he knows what’s going on in your mind. He hesitates a moment before - “Are you ok?” 
The question catches you off guard. Were you ok? You knew the answer was a big, fat no. But was that something you should share with him? A near stranger? Aside from the obvious questions you had, when was the last time someone asked you that? You couldn’t remember anyone caring enough about you in the last few years to even utter those words to you. The only people you interacted with were your coworkers, who didn’t give a shit about your personal life. All your boss cared about was that you got the job done. You almost wanted to trust this man, share with him how you’re feeling, God knows you need it. You’ve been staring at him for too long, he must think you’re crazy now. “Yeah. Yeah I’m good.” You mutter, looking anywhere but his eyes. 
“Look, it’s not really my place to pry, but you’ve been standing out here in the freezing cold for over an hour.” Had it really been that long? “Do you want to maybe go inside?”
“With you?” you asked, slightly startled at his proposition. 
His eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, and you had a distant thought that he looked oddly adorable like that. “No! No, no. I mean unless you want to come to my house?” He half asked, slightly confused, shaking his head. “I just meant, you aren’t really dressed for the 3 degree weather, don’t you think you should head back inside?” 
Oh. He was just being nice. You weren’t used to this. Leave it to you to jump to weird conclusions. You cocked your head to the side, looking at him with a dumb look. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “I was actually just about to smoke a cigarette, then I’ll head inside.” He gave you another unreadable look, and slowly started to nod.
“O- ok then.” He seemed like he wanted to say more, but stopped himself.
“Do you smoke?”
“Oh no, I don’t. Thank you though.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but at you, like he didn’t want to offend you.
“I’m not offended, I know most people think it’s a nasty habit.” You took the lighter back out of your front pocket and put the cigarette to your now very cold, very dry lips. “Want to sit with me?” You asked after you took your first drag of the cigarette.
Yoongi looked back towards his house, and then back at you. “Yeah, let me go grab a coat and I’ll be right back.” he stuttered out. You hadn’t even noticed he was only wearing jeans and a flannel. Poor guy, you’ve been staring stupidly at him for at least 15 minutes, he must be freezing by now. 
“Take your time.” You waved him off as he jogged briskly past the trees and shrubs. You watched him enter his back porch and saw a few lights flicker on, then off again. Taking another drag from your cigarette, you looked back out over the lake. Leaning your elbows on the deck railing, you realized you were, in fact, freezing in nothing but a long sleeve t-shirt and pajama pants. You didn’t intend to be out here this long, only meaning to smoke one cigarette and head back inside, only to lose track of time.
“Want to sit down?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, slightly startling you. “Sorry - didn’t mean to scare you again” he laughed dryly. He pulled a couple of the deck chairs closer to the railing and sat down. It was then that you noticed he was now wearing a thick winter coat, and in his hands he held another coat, and what looked suspiciously like a blanket. You raised an eyebrow at him, but slowly walked towards the chair, holding your cigarette away from Yoongi, respectful of others' distaste for the smell.
As you sat down in the chair to Yoongi’s right, he dully shook the coat he was holding in your direction with a raised brow. A silent offering. “Thanks.” You muttered lamely, taking the coat from him. It was thick, and smelled citrus-y. Oranges? With maybe a hint of cloves. It smelled manly, wrapping you in his scent when you threw it over your shoulders. 
“No problem” he gruffed out. His deep voice was soothing your cold soul at the moment, a feeling you haven’t had in a long time. “I- I brought a blanket” he hesitates, slowly unfolding the blanket, watching your face to make sure what he was about to do was alright, “is this ok?” he asks as he set the unfolded blanket over yours and his legs. You nod at him, taking another drag from your cigarette. Once the blanket is situated, he grabs one of the legs of your chair and pulls it closer to his, so the blanket drapes all the way over you. You offer him a small smile, and then turn your head to blow the smoke in the other direction. “I don’t mind the smoke, you know. My older brother smokes like a train, I’m used to it.” 
You smirk at him. “Are you implying I smoke like a train?”
“N-no! No, of course not - that’s not, that isn’t” he starts to stutter, shaking his head.
“Relax, Yoongi. I was kidding.” You let out as you exhale your last bit of smoke, putting your cigarette out on the deck floor. You should probably bring an ashtray up here with you next time you visit, which was becoming more and more infrequent as time went on. You used to come up here in the summer with Namjoon, but those days were long gone. 
He ducked his head slightly, the flood light illuminating the side of his face from behind him. He really was beautiful, you noticed. A small, slanted nose, with cute puffy cheeks. They were a little red from being out in the cold, but cute nonetheless.  
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that..” he starts to trail off, realizing he doesn’t know your name.
“YN. Sorry - my name is YN.” 
“YN.” He tries it out on his tongue. He likes the way it sounds. “Pretty.” He noted, face heating after he realized what he said. You smiled at him, the first genuine smile he’s seen all night and he realizes he likes it, and wants to see more of it, preferably in the near future. He gives you a gummy smile in return. “What brings you out here, at -” he quickly pulls his phone from his pocket and glances at the time, “- nearly midnight?”
“Oh you know, just dealing with life.” You glance out into the distance, back at that damned lake. Yoongi must have sensed your distress, because he is quickly switching the subject.
“It’s really pretty out here this time of year.” He states, lamely, looking out at the lake with you. “The lake freezes over in November, makes for some really beautiful scenery.” 
“Yeah… I know. I’ve been coming here with my family since I was 8.” You didn’t take your focus away from the lake as you spoke. 
“What… happened? If you don’t mind me asking.” Yoongi quickly read the expression on your face and added, “You totally don’t have to answer that, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s ok actually. I haven’t really talked about it in a while.” You chanced a glance at Yoongi, his expression serious, focused completely on you. You were taken aback for a brief moment, wondering what was making you trust this man, before you went on, “My parents died almost 6 years ago. We used to come out here as a family every Christmas for the last two weeks of the year. I still make the trip every year to keep their memory, alive? I guess. That sounds kind of stupid saying it out loud.”
“No it doesn’t,” Yoongi stated simply, “That makes perfect sense. You feel closer to them when you’re here, right?” You slowly nodded, still staring into his deep brown orbs. “Look, at the risk of making myself seem like a peeping Tom, I noticed you used to come here with a man, but I haven’t seen him in a while. Is everything ok with…?” His question trailed off. So he has noticed you before.
“Namjoon,” you said, turning your head away, “my brother.” 
Your brother. He didn’t expect that. From what little glimpses he saw of the two of you, you always seemed like a bickering couple. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” 
“No it’s fine, you’re very observant, you know. How long have you lived there, exactly?” You asked, turning back to look at the sweet man beside you, gesturing towards his home.
“Almost 8 years. Inherited the place from my grandmother. The first few years I was only here on and off, still living mostly in Daegu. Fully moved in about 5 years ago.” His expression changed, looking like he was reminiscing on the past.
“So you must’ve seen me and Namjoon coming together before. He hasn’t come up here with me in three years. We don’t - we’re not really on good terms. He lives a couple hours away.” You left it at that, not really wanting to indulge in the reason why you weren’t on good terms. That was a conversation for another day. Your stomach fluttered at the thought of talking to Yoongi again. You were confused at the feeling for a moment before Yoongi was speaking.
“I get that. Me and my brother barely speak either. I can’t even remember the last time I saw him to be honest.” He gives you a sad smile, which you return. You’re unsure why you feel like you’ve known Yoongi longer than an hour, but he makes you feel warm in the middle of the harsh winter. You noticed his cheeks were becoming increasingly red and cursed yourself for being so inconsiderate.
“Do you, uh, do you want to go inside? I can make hot chocolate, or something…” you trail off dumbly. 
“Uh, y-yeah that sounds nice”, he faltered, grabbing the blanket draped over you, folding it neatly before ascending from his chair. You follow after him, moving towards the back door of your cabin. You didn’t realize just how cold you were until you opened the sliding glass door and a wall of heat hit you in the face. 
“Wow, I must have been out there a while. I’m freezing.” You chirped as you slid the door closed after Yoongi stepped inside the threshold. 
Yoongi pegged you with a questioning look, and at first you thought he must think you’re insane, before he said, “If you want, you can show me where you keep the hot chocolate and you can go take a shower, or something?” he faltered before adding, “I mean, if that’s ok with you, I know you barely know me-”
You cut him off before he could start babbling again, giving him a soft smile. “That would be really nice actually,” you said, leading him to the kitchen. “I’m not sure what all I have stocked up here, but you should find everything you need in the tea cabinet, above the stove,” you pointed to the stove, “and the mugs are in the cabinet next to the fridge. Feel free to make whatever you’d like. I’ll be down the hall, second door on the right if you need me.” You smiled at him again, causing him to internally melt at the sight, “Thank you, Yoongi.” The sincerity in your tone hurt him. He could tell that you haven’t been thankful for anyone or anything in a while and he didn’t like that. 
“Of course,” he croaked, I’d do anything to make you smile, he wanted to add, but didn’t. He just watched you trudge off to what he presumed was the restroom. He mentally slapped himself. Why was he acting like an idiot in front of this girl he hardly knew? He knew it was because he has seen your sad eyes staring out at the lake for the past three days now, and years before that. Watched you stand, emotionless, wondering what was going through your mind. Now that he’s seen what a smile looks like on your face, he never wants it to disappear again. He’s too empathetic, a trait he inherited from his mother, sometimes to a fault. But he didn’t care right now. Right now, he just wanted to make you happy, even if it was just for tonight. 
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You let the hot water fall over your face, reveling in the way the steam was making your muscles feel. Even though your body was relaxing, your mind was starting to real. You think it’s December 21st, just a few days before Christmas. You’d arrived at the cabin three days prior, and would remain here for another week and a half. Usually, when you came to the cabin alone, you spent those two weeks wallowing in self pity, drinking yourself to near death. This was the first time you’ve had any interaction at the cabin in three years. Thinking back to three years ago, you recall your lowest moment at the cabin. The reason for the downfall of yours and Namjoon’s relationship.
It was Christmas Eve, and you had just finished off a bottle of your favorite wine. The fireplace was going, and some sappy Lifetime movie was playing in the background. Not that you were paying attention in the least. You and Joon had just fought over staying an extra day. You wanted to stay, spend some time together since you didn’t get to see him often, but he wanted to go back to Seoul to his girlfriend, Yuna. You never really liked her, but that’s beside the point. He was in his room, probably on the phone with her if the soft whispers were anything to go by, while you were on the couch in the living room. You had just poured yourself another glass of wine and were staring out the large bay windows that had a beautiful view of the lake. You used to love that lake when you were a kid. You and Joon would swing on the tire swing attached to the tree that was partially submerged in the lake when your parents would take you up here in the summers. In the winter, you and Joon would walk along the edge of the frozen water, admiring the beauty of it, listening to nature. Namjoon always did love all the little animals he would find down there. But now, as you looked out at the dark abyss of a lake, it only haunted you with memories of your parents.
You had contemplated it before, but was never brave enough to act. At that moment, though, you really didn’t think there was anything left to live for. Everything had fallen apart. Your parents were gone, your brother hated you, and you isolated yourself from all your friends so long ago, you really didn’t have anyone left. All you could think about, as tears streamed down your face, was how Joon wouldn’t care if you were gone. Your parents weren’t there anymore to care. You would be doing him a favor, right? He didn’t want to be around you, so if you weren’t here, he wouldn’t have to worry about your nagging anymore.
Shaking your head, you’re brought back into the present. Were there tears streaming down your face, or was it the water from the shower? The choked up feeling in your throat pointed towards the former. Great. Could Yoongi hear you? You hoped not. God, you hoped not. He seemed like such a sweet guy, kind and soft. You didn’t want to bring him down in your spiral and potentially scare away the only human interaction you’ve had in a while. 
Little did you know, Yoongi did you hear you. He had finished making hot chocolates a few minutes before he heard soft whimpers coming from the hallway. He immediately made his way towards the noise, realising that once he reached the bathroom door, he could hear you quietly sniffling in the shower. His heart sank at the sound. He didn’t knock, knew he shouldn't. But God, did he want to. Wanted to pull you into his arms, tell you that everything was going to be ok, and see that gorgeous smile again. But it wasn’t his place, and he knew that. So he walked back to the kitchen, solemn expression on his face, and waited patiently for you to calm yourself. 
Yoongi was unsure why he felt the need to comfort you. He hardly knew you, apart from what he’s seen of you over the years. Still, those glimpses weren’t really telling of what kind of person you were. You seemed kind, warm-hearted. You let him into your home, or your parent’s home, he guessed, when you saw that he was cold. You trusted him enough to dawdle about in your kitchen while you showered. That had to take some real trust, what if he was some psycho stalker? He wasn’t, of course. But you didn’t know that. 
The trust you put in him told him one of two things - you we’re either a very trusting person, or you had no fear. The latter made him feel sick. He knew you were going through a lot, but it’s been years since your parents death, you should be feeling somewhat better, right? No, he knew that wasn’t true. The pain of losing someone you love never goes away, he knew that better than anyone, and he didn’t even know the circumstances surrounding their death, or the fallout between you and your brother. Either way, when he looked in your eyes, he saw a sad, broken girl. He’s been that sad, broken person before, and he wanted to help you.
So he waited at your kitchen island, rewarming your mug of hot chocolate every five or so minutes, until you finally felt ready to come out of the bathroom. 
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As you slowly towel dried your hair, you stared at your reddened eyes in the bathroom mirror. You knew Yoongi was probably waiting in the kitchen for you, with long cold drinks, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of this handsome stranger with your tears. You splashed some cool water on your face and applied some moisturizer to attempt to even out the redness of your face.
After you were satisfied with the puffiness, you threw on your pajama shorts and t-shirt you had brought with you from your room, and left your hair wrapped up in a towel. Who were you trying to impress, really? You barely knew Yoongi, despite the fact that you felt safe around him. You knew at the end of these two weeks you would go your separate ways and probably not speak again until next Christmas, if you even made it to next Christmas. Damn, why couldn’t you keep the morbid thoughts away for one night? 
Hesitantly, you made your way out of the bathroom and down the hallway, where you could hear the clinking of glasses coming from the kitchen. Curious, you sped up a little, until you reached the open floor plan kitchen of your cabin, shooting Yoongi a questioning look.
“Oh! Sorry - I just saw that you have some dishes in the sink, I just wanted to help. Sorry.” He looked sheepish, and you thought it was rather cute. 
“Thanks,” you offered shyly, feeling slightly embarrassed he saw your mess, and sat at one of the barstools in front of the kitchen island, “Did you find the drinks ok?” 
“Oh yeah - they cooled down a bit, so I warmed it up in the microwave.”
You smiled at his thoughtfulness, taking the warm mug from him. Yoongi knew that you had been crying, could see the puffiness in your eyes, but seeing you smile, even slightly, made his eyes light up.He watched as you rose from your seat, mug in hand, and made your way around the kitchen island. For a second, he thought you were going to approach him, but you walked right past him towards the fridge. You reached your short arms up and grabbed at a bottle sitting on top of the refrigerator, pulling it down and setting it on the counter. He watched on curiously as you opened the, almost empty, bottle of rum and poured some into your mug. You turned around, raising an eyebrow at his questioning look, “want some?” 
“Oh, uh, no thank you. It’s really late”, he advised hesitantly. He didn’t want to upset you, didn’t want to overstep bounds as you were an adult after all, but he was also questioning your current state of mind.
“I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, if any of this makes you feel uncomfortable, you can leave. I’m trying my best to keep my head above water right now, both figuratively and literally.” You don’t know why you just said that to your neighbor, but you did and there was no taking it back. You removed your gaze from Yoongi’s, slowly walking towards your living room to have a seat on the plush couch. You never got around to redecorating the place after your parents death. It was almost like taking a step back into the past when you came up here. 
Yoongi’s eyes widened a fraction before he schooled his expression, following behind you, almost forgetting his drink but grabbing it at the last second. “YN, do you want to talk about it? I know we just met, but I want you to know I’m here for you. Whatever you need. Someone to listen, make you hot chocolate, whatever you need.” He gave you a sad smile and sat across from you on the loveseat, setting his mug down on the coffee table. 
You took another sip of your spiked hot chocolate, reveling in the burn at the back of your throat, before following Yoongi and setting it on the coffee table. “Why are you so nice to me? You barely know me,” you questioned him, pinning him with a serious look. 
“I’m sorry if I’m overstepping my bounds right now, but I know what it’s like to be depressed,” he looked up from his feet, resting his hands on his knees as he spoke, “I lost my mother when I was 15. I’m not saying by any means that I know what you’re going through, but when I lost my mom I felt like I had no one to talk to. I don’t know you, at least, not yet. But if you give me the chance, I would like to try? We are neighbors after all.” His momentary burst of confidence falters as he plays with his fingers and looks down at the carpet. 
Your gaze softened at the absolute sincerity in his tone. Was this real life? You almost wanted to pinch yourself to make sure you didn’t pass out drunk on the deck and dreamt up some hot stranger to ease your worries. You let out a breathy laugh, absent of any humor. You thought for a second, did you really want to unload this baggage on Yoongi? No, not right now. It’s better to keep things vague, that way there is no one to hurt if you’re gone. “Yoongi,” you started, causing his head to snap up to meet your gaze, teeth worrying his bottom lip, “You seem like a really nice guy,” Yoongi could sense a ‘but’ coming, preparing himself for rejection. It’s not like he isn’t used to it, being the shy guy in a small town he never really had the chance to talk to many people. “But I can’t promise you that I’ll even be around in a week. I don’t want to get attached to someone, it’ll just be harder in the end.”
That was not what Yoongi was expecting. His heart dropped down to his toes. He felt his stomach flip. Did you really just imply what he thinks you did? It didn’t matter if he barely knew you, you needed to know that someone cared for you. But he knew he needed to tread lightly here. He slowly got up from his spot on the loveseat and made his way over to you, crouching down so he could meet your downcast eyes. His hands were clasped together, but the moment you lifted your gaze to meet his, he unclasped both hands and held them out to you, wanting you to make the first move, conscious you might still feel uncomfortable with him. Hesitantly, you reached out one hand, which he grasped in both of his much larger ones. His warmth instantly soothing your cold bones.
“YN,” he whispered, barely audible, but you heard him, “I don’t know what your life is like back, wherever you’re from, but you’re here now. I’m here for you, and I would really, really, like to get to know you better. If you can’t promise me a week, can you at least promise me tomorrow?” He didn’t want to scare you away, dreading what might happen if he does. He saw unshed tears glistening in your doe eyes before continuing, “I’ll come over, every day, and we can spend Christmas together. You don’t have to be alone YN.”
The thought of not having to spend Christmas alone was enticing. The last time you spent Christmas with someone and was coherent enough to remember it, was four years ago, when you and Joon came up here. The last time you were up here, before that dreaded Christmas Eve three years ago. You wanted, really wanted, to take Yoongi up on his offer. But you felt like you owed it to him to explain why you were like this. Why you weren’t able to get close to anyone, why you felt like this was a bad idea. You thought, if you tell him what happened, about your demons, maybe it would scare him away and save him any future pain. With that in mind, you spoke, ““That fucking lake. It’s caused me so much pain, and now it’s like a sick metaphor of my life,” it was barely a whisper that left your lips. Yoongi could tell whatever you were about to say was heavy. He waited patiently, holding your sad gaze, silently letting you know he was listening. “They died in that lake. It was raining, my dad didn’t see the deer in front of them on the bridge leading into town. They had come up here for a weekend getaway without me and my brother, which they rarely even did. We found out two days later when they didn’t show up for work.” 
Yoongi instantly remembered exactly what you were talking about. How could he not have put two and two together? About six years ago, he was commuting back and forth from the cabin to Daegu for work. He was on his way up here for the weekend when the roads were blocked off at the bridge, he saw the overturned car in the embankment of the lake. Everyone in this small town talked about the couple who drowned in the lake for years after the accident. He even heard about how their child had tried to drown themselves in the same lake a few years ago…. Oh no. 
“YN.”
“It’s ok Yoongi. I don’t want sympathies, I don’t want anymore ‘I’m sorry”’s. You offered to listen, so I’m getting it all out.” You looked down, becoming hyper focused on your hand clasped in Yoongi’s. “After they died, me and Namjoon would come up here for Christmas, attempting to feel more like a family. It never did, we would just fight when we were up here, nonsensical arguments that drove a wedge between us. We kept trying though, until three years ago.”He remembers that, too. He would always see you and that guy, Namjoon, arguing on the deck, or you crying out by the tree swing. You stopped, unsure if you should continue. You chanced a glance at Yoongi, his dark eyes watching you with - it wasn’t pity - compassion? His gaze made you want to continue, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. “I tried to drown myself three Christmas’ ago. In that damn lake.” 
Yoongi’s made an inaudible gasp, and he hoped beyond hope you didn’t notice. He wasn’t even sure why he was shocked, he connected the dots a few moments ago. He knew it was you. “YN. I - I,” he faltered. 
Not quite meeting his gaze yet, you muttered, “It’s fine Yoongi. Now that lake it like this stupid fucking metaphor for my life. I ebb and flow, just like the waters in that lake throughout the year. I have my ups and downs. Then, every Christmas, the lake freezes over. It’s always hard for me to get through this time of year, especially without Joon.” You felt a single tear roll down your already puffy cheeks. You sniffled slightly, rubbing your nose on the sleeve of your shirt with your free arm.
Yoongi stood up from his crouching position slowly, his grip on your hand still tight. He hesitantly took a seat next to you, holding your hand in his lap.  He could tell you were trying to scare him away, make him realise you were too broken to be fixed. He was determined to keep you talking, get all your baggage laid out on the table so he could assure you none of it mattered to him. “YN, what happened with Joon?” He whispered, close to your face. He didn’t want to risk you building that wall back up, even if he didn’t exactly want to hear the answer.
“He found me in the lake. Freezing, nearly dead.” Tears were rolling down your face now, and you felt Yoongi’s soft fingers rubbing soothing circles on your wrist. You looked up, gaze focused on the wall behind Yoongi. “Brought me to the hospital, checked me in, and left. I didn’t hear from him for a few months after that. When I finally did he texted me and told me that he didn’t think he could handle my ‘destructive behavior’, and offered to pay for my treatment”, you murmured that last part, voice faltering as you sucked in a shaky breath. “I haven’t seen him since that night, Yoongi.” At this, you finally looked into Yoongi’s eyes, your own crinkled in pain, tears freely falling down your face, and Yoongi’s heart broke. No. It shattered into a million tiny pieces. He barely knew you, but he wanted to do everything in his power to make you feel loved, wanted to show you that someone cared about you. You weren’t going to scare him away with your demons. 
Yoongi scooted a little closer to you on the couch, releasing your hand in the process, and gathered your shrunken form into his arms and hugged you close. A beat passed before you hugged back, uncertain if you should. But his warmth had you melting into him, you chest heaving with pitiful sobs. The hug was a little awkward, with you both sitting on the couch, so Yoongi brought his leg up and slotted it behind you, moving even closer to you. Yoongi’s ambiguous nature long gone as he rubbed a large hand up and down your back, pushing his face into your hair, shushing you. You sat there, in his embrace, for what felt like hours, but was realistically probably only 5 minutes. When your sobs started to slow down, Yoongi pulled back slightly, arms still wrapped firmly around you, looking you in the eye, “YN-” he started, but you cut him off before he could finish. 
With a small sniffle and watery eyes, you whispered, “I’m broken Yoongi. You shouldn’t be here, you shouldn’t want to be here. I only cause others pain.”
He seemed confused by your statement at first. His dark eyes searching your own for a second before he whispered, “I see you here, year after year. I can tell YN, I can see it. You’re broken by what happened, but you are not a broken person. You’re so beautiful honey, and from what I’ve seen of you tonight, you’re kind and worthy. Worthy of love, worthy of life, and worthy of happiness.” Your eyes started to well up with tears again and Yoongi gave you a sad smile, thumb reaching up and caressing your cheek to wipe them away. “I didn’t come up to your deck tonight because I thought you locked yourself out of your house. I came over because I’ve seen the torment in your eyes, and I’ve been there before. I don’t want you to feel like you have to go through this alone. I wanted to be here for you, regardless of how well I know you. Maybe I can get to know you in the process, b-but I want you to be ok, YN.” He softly whispered the last part softly, dark eyes starting to well with his own unshed tears.
“You barely know me Yoongi. Your words are sweet, but I’m not worthy. I’ve been drowning myself in liquor, killing myself with cigarettes, and pushing everyone in my life away for the last seven years. I’m a shit human.” You look down, hand reaching up to gently grasp Yoongi’s wrist, slowly pulling his hand from your face. The hurt in his eyes was hard to miss. 
“I barely know you, but yet I want to know more. Doesn’t that say something? You think you’re not worthy, but I’m right here, telling you I think you’re interesting, lovable, and funny. I want to get to know you.” He pulled his hand, ever so gently, away from your grasp, placing it on your lower back to pull you against his chest. “You matter YN.”
You let out another quiet sob into Yoongi’s flannel shirt, inhaling his soft citrus-y scent that has been a calming presence to you all night. “Promise me tomorrow, YN. Promise me you’ll stay tomorrow, talk to me, get to know me a little more,” he mumbled into your hair, “all I’m asking for is tomorrow.”
You thought to yourself for a moment. You could do that. You could promise one more day. Even if you had to suffer through it, at least Yoongi would be there with you. Inhaling a shaky breath, you gasped out an, “ok.”
Yoongi smiled to himself, a sad, small smile. He was happy you were going to give yourself a chance, even if it was under the guise of giving him a chance. He was determined to make you see life was worth living.
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You woke up with a splitting headache. Was it from the copious amounts of alcohol you consumed yesterday, or from all the crying you did? You didn’t know. All you knew was the sunlight streaming in from your bedroom window was going to be the death of you. You let out a weak groan as you rolled over, pulling the soft duvet cover over your head. You didn’t want to get out of bed, but you knew you needed to get some water, or your headache was only going to get worse.
Throwing the covers off yourself, you slowly sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. You grabbed your phone from your bedside table, noting that it was December 22. Three more days until Christmas. As you looked at your phone, you noticed your arms were covered by a thick, wool like fabric. This wasn’t your pajamas, what were you wearing? You stood up and walked over to the floor length mirror on the back of your bedroom door, still littered with stickers from that time you and your friend Mina visited the cabin when you were 14. 
As you gazed at yourself in the mirror, the events of last night came rushing back to you. Yoongi. You were wearing his coat that he so kindly brought over to you last night while you were out on your deck. Yoongi sat with you while you cried into his shirt for an hour after you had spilled your life story to him, letting all your monsters out to play. You could see the remnants of your sobbing on your face, puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. After you calmed down a bit, Yoongi wrapped you in his jacket and carried you to your bed, shaky and cold. He laid you down gently, pulling the covers over your sleepy form and whispered, “Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’re going to get to know each other better” before he left. Too tired to speak, you rolled over and fell asleep. 
Your face heated with embarrassment. A man you hardly knew took care of you last night, carried you to your bed. This wasn’t like you. He hugged you last night! You haven’t had any human contact in nearly three years. The last person you hugged was your therapist at the rehab facility, and even that was awkward and a little forced. At the thought of him hugging you, you felt butterflies erupt in your stomach, remembering how you melted into his warm chest last night. You didn’t realize just how touch starved you’d become in the last few years, but the evidence was right there. Shaking off your humiliation, you shrugged off Yoongi’s jacket and rummaged through your suitcase for some clothes. Surely, you’d feel better after a shower and some breakfast. Right?
After rinsing the previous night from your skin, you dressed in some sweats and a t-shirt, not really bothering to do your hair. You didn’t plan on leaving the cabin today, at most you would sit out on the deck again. Heading back into your room, you hear a soft knock coming from your living room. At first you thought you were hearing things, until another knock, slightly louder, sounded through the cabin. 
As you made your way down the hallway and into the living room, you saw a smiling Yoongi through the sliding glass door standing on your back deck. His arms were full, with… what did he have? Bags? You rushed forward past the couches and unlocked and slid the door open.
“Good morning - er, I guess afternoon now?” Yoongi stuttered a little awkwardly, albeit friendly. He stumbled through your back door and made his way over to the kitchen island. You watched his back as he set down a couple of bags and a blanket on the marble countertop. You tilted your head at him as he turned around to face you. “I, um, I thought we could spend the day together if - if that’s ok with you?” he lilted his words at the end. 
You remember the promise you made to Yoongi last night as you stared at him, mouth agape. One more day. You promised him today. You were slightly surprised that Yoongi made good on his promise, half expecting him to bolt last night and never speak to you again after everything you unloaded on him, yet here he was, bright eyed and bushy tailed.
“What’s in the bags?” You questioned as you moved towards the kitchen, blinking dumbly at Yoongi. 
“Well, I noticed last night that you didn’t have much food in your fridge, mostly just liquor and soda,” your cheeks heated as he called you on your bad habits, “so I brought over some groceries. I thought we could make lunch and since it’s a little too cold outside, we could set up a picnic in the living room.” he offered, gesturing to the blanket sitting on your countertop. “If that’s ok with you, of course.” He sounded a little abashed, having not gotten your number last night, he wasn’t able to see if you were ok with all of this beforehand. He was taking a leap of faith here, hoping that you would take him up on his offer.
You smiled shyly at him, “that sounds really nice, Yoongi, thank you.” Not having a drop of alcohol in your system was making your normal, shy self emerge from the mask you usually wear, shrouded behind a layer of liquor. 
Yoongi offered you a gummy smile, showing off his perfect teeth. His smile was warm, inviting, much like his scent. You were slowly realizing that you quite enjoyed his company. Maybe a little more than you should have.
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You and Yoongi had spent the afternoon cooking and chatting in your kitchen, making a stew from a recipe Yoongi had in one of his grandmother’s old cookbooks. You discovered that he was a natural in the kitchen, moving through the recipes with ease. He told you stories about how he used to come out here to visit his grandma and she would always cook with him in the very cabin he lived in now. He told you how he inherited it from her 8 years ago when she passed away, and how he quit his office job in Daegu to move out here and become a freelance writer. You admired his bravery, being able to leave his life behind and take a risk moving out here. Part of you wished you were able to take that jump, you truly loved this cabin, and most of the memories that came with it. 
Now, you and Yoongi were sitting on his blanket, in front of your fireplace, eating the stew the two of you made together. “So where are you from, YN?” Yoongi asked as he finished off his bowl, setting it down on the hardwood floor. 
“Busan,” you stated simply. “I still live there. I usually only make the trip out here for Christmas now. I used to come up during the summers, too, but haven’t in a while.”
“And what do you do, in Busan?” he asked, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his elbows, full focus on you.
“I work at an animal shelter. Nothing fancy. I tend to prefer the company of animals, rather than humans,” you offered somewhat abashedly. You were telling the truth. You had always wanted to become a veterinarian, ever since you could talk, really. But you just didn’t have the time, or the money to go to school, so you found the next best option.
“I definitely get that,” Yoongi agreed, “I have a calico cat at home. It gets lonely up here sometimes, and he helps keep me sane.” He smiled thinking about the furball he adopted a couple years ago, probably resting peacefully in his favorite sunbathing spot back at home. 
Your eyes lit up at the mention of a cat and Yoongi filed that away for later. “Really? What’s his name?”
Yoongi was more than happy to indulge in your sudden curiosity, happy he found something you’re actually interested in. “Mochi. He’s a male calico, I hear they’re pretty rare. I found him at the local shelter in town a couple years back. He’s a sweet little thing.”
Your conversation continued throughout the afternoon much the same. You told Yoongi about your dreams to become a vet that would probably never come to fruition, and in turn he told you about his previous job in Daegu as a marketing analyst. You shared with each other your big (and small) dreams and aspirations, discussed TV shows you both liked, and talked about different recipes you enjoy. 
You were actually enjoying yourself and spending time with Yoongi, something you really didn’t expect to happen when you were on the drive up here a few days ago. You haven’t really had a friend to talk to for a long time, your only close friend Mina having moved to the United States five years ago, you never really made the effort to make any new ones. Yoongi was nice, you thought to yourself as he talked more about his cat, you wouldn’t mind being friends with him. 
By dinner time you were both starting to get hungry again, so you suggested ordering take out while you both cleaned up the mess in the kitchen from earlier.  You called the chicken place you knew of in town, while Yoongi started loading the dishwasher. “Hey YN?” you heard from the kitchen.
“Yes?” You half shouted back, walking down the hallway towards Yoongi. 
“Where are your dish- oh nevermind, found them!” He shouted back as you walked into the kitchen. He stood up straight after shutting the dishwasher, sighing and wiping his hands down the front of his jeans. “Dishes are done, food is ordered. What do you say we watch some Christmas movies?” 
For the rest of the night, you and Yoongi sat in front of the TV, watching sappy Lifetime movies, eating chicken and drinking beer. It was probably the most fun you’ve had in quite a few years, and you were really thankful for his company. At the end of the night, you and Yoongi exchanged phone numbers with a promise that you would give Yoongi one more day, at least, to get to know you better. You agreed, and Yoongi left with one final gummy smile and wave of his hand. 
You sighed, rubbing your hand down the front of your face. Having Yoongi here was a great distraction, but now that he’s gone and you can hear the faint sound of Christmas music playing on the credits of some crappy movie, reality was starting to sink in. After these two weeks were over, you’d return to Busan, Yoongi-less, and have to resume your normal life again. A life you weren’t satisfied with. A life you knew you didn’t want to continue living. Being here made you feel like that life didn’t exist anymore, like you were almost, happy? But you knew that it would all be over soon and everything would hurt again. You didn’t want to let yourself get wrapped up in Yoongi because only bad things could come of it, but he was making it really, really hard. You could see yourself falling for Yoongi, allowing him to make you happy, but you couldn’t. You had way too much baggage, you would never be the happy go-lucky girl you were in your teens again. You would always live with this depression, with these demons. 
As you changed into your pajamas, you stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Your eyes were sunken in, your skin was pale, and your hair had seen better days. You knew you hadn’t been taking great care of yourself, but you didn’t think it had gotten this bad. What did Yoongi see in you anyways? Your life was a wreck and you looked like it, too. You sighed to yourself, running a brush through your hair. You promised Yoongi one more day, so you were going to make it through tomorrow, at least.
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December 23. Two more days until Christmas. You woke up feeling a little lighter this morning after having spent yesterday with Yoongi, but you also had a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. You’ve never really been one to believe in superstitions, but for some reason, you had a strong feeling something bad was going to happen soon. You tried to shake off the feeling. You had woken up early this morning, just before sunrise and decided to take a steaming shower.
After your shower, you got dressed in comfy clothes and decided to sit out on the deck and smoke for a bit. It was still early in the morning, the sun still on the horizon. It really was beautiful out here. You had the perfect view of the lake from your deck. It faced towards the east, giving you a gorgeous view of the sunset just above the frozen lake. The colors of the sky were so pretty this time of day, oranges mixing with pretty pinks, you felt like you were on set for a romance movie. 
There was a low fog rolling onto the embankment from the frozen lake. It almost looked like dry ice, white billows of smoke swirling in the slight morning breeze. Admiring the landscape, you took a cigarette out of your pack, and slid your lighter out of your pocket. The sun was just barely starting to pass over the mountains in the east. You shivered a little as you lit up your cigarette, taking a deep inhale of smoke. You instantly felt at ease, the weird feeling from earlier dissipating with the sharp exhale of smoke. 
Yoongi hadn’t gone to sleep yet, and was typing on his laptop, Mochi in his lap, on his sofa. He spent a majority of the day over at your cabin yesterday and spent all night trying to get caught up with work. As a freelance writer, he made his own hours, but he wanted to make sure he was going to meet his next deadline, coming up in a few weeks. 
He gently closed his laptop and stretched his arms up into the air, cracking a few joints in the process. The noise startled Mochi and he shot up out of Yoongi’s lap, across the kitchen floor. “Sorry, buddy,” Yoongi mumbled, sleep thick in his voice. He watched as Mochi slid across the linoleum and jumped up onto the window sill above the sink. Yoongi looked out of the window curiously, eyes catching on a figure. He stood up from his spot on the sofa slowly, making his way towards the window, mindful of Mochi this time.
From his kitchen window, Yoongi had a perfect view of you standing on your deck smoking a cigarette. He watched as you took a deep inhale every couple of minutes and exhaled white swirls of smoke through your nose. The sun was just beginning to rise and the light was catching beautifully on the planes of your face. Yoongi took a moment to admire you, since he hasn’t really had the chance before. You were always intently watching him, waiting for his next move, almost like you were afraid he would leave, never quite giving in to his friendship.
The light shone over your features beautifully, highlighting your sharp cheekbones and sunken in eyes. Yoongi noticed you looked a little thin, he wasn’t sure if that had to do with heredity or something more sinister, but he tried not to dwell on it. Long eyelashes flutter over your cheeks everytime you close your eyes, basking in the sunlight. Your fingers, long and slender, held the cigarette so delicately. You seemed so gentle, so ethereal, he wonders why the world had to be so cruel to you. What did you do to deserve the foul things that have happened to you? Nothing, you didn’t do anything. You were just delt a bad hand at life. 
He watched as your long hair fluttered around your face in the breeze. It looks like you just washed it, he thought, you must be cold in the crisp morning air. With one last exhale of smoke, you put your cigarette out on the railing of your deck. Yoongi smirked to himself when he saw the small pout form on your lips. How could someone be so beautiful, yet so broken? Yoongi wasn’t sure why he felt this strong urge to protect you, to prevent any further harm coming to you, but he knew that he would do everything in his power to make sure you felt cared for. He was drawn to you, in a way he has never been drawn to another person. It both scared and excited him and sent butterflies through his stomach. He took one last glance at you through the window and decided it would be best if he got some rest before trekking back over to your cabin later. 
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The rest of your morning went by relatively smoothly, having made breakfast after coming inside from your morning smoke. You cooked yourself some eggs and toast and then decided to check some emails on your laptop you brought with you. You saw a couple of emails from your boss, asking about adoption paperwork that he couldn’t find on your desk. You emailed him back quickly with the forms you had stored in your files, before powering off your computer, done with work for now. You moved the laptop from the top of your thighs to the nightstand next to your bed and leaned back against the headboard. You folded your arms behind your head and glanced around the room, taking in your childhood surroundings. 
The walls of your bedroom were still a pastel pink color with sponged on white clouds reaching up to the ceiling. You had a vivid memory of helping your mom paint the clouds when you were 8 years old. She would laugh at you everytime you would pout because the cloud didn’t come out exactly how you wanted it to. 
Across from your full size bed, was a white dresser with claw feet that still contained some old summer clothes from when you would visit during your breaks from school, probably a few sizes too small now. Along the side of the dresser and the white full length mirror on the back of your door, were stickers from your favorite bands when you were a teenager. You and Mina had collected them throughout the school year and would stick them on when you arrived for the summer. You smiled at the memories this room brought back. This was the reason you kept returning here every year, you tell yourself. To remember the times when you were happy and loved life. 
You let out a deep sigh and sunk back onto your mattress further, eyes feeling droopy. When your head hit the soft pillow, you stared up at the ceiling, still white because your mom said painting the ceiling pink would have made the room feel claustrophobic. There were still little pieces of sticky tape stuck to the stucco from when you had plastered glow in the dark stars and planets all over the ceiling, long since gone now. You never updated anything in the house, bought new furniture, or moved anything around. It would feel wrong, you thought. It wouldn’t feel like home anymore if you made changes. 
You hadn’t even entered the master bedroom, where your parents slept, since they passed. You know that Namjoon has, having gone through some of their belongings in the years since their death, but you never could bring yourself to do it. Joon had also gone through his childhood things in his room, just across the hall from you, taking what he cared for back to Seoul with him. You wondered what was left in there, too tired to actually get up and check. As you reminisced on your cabin, sleep began to take over, and eventually you fell asleep to the slow hum of the heater.
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You sat up straight in bed, clutching your shirt, breathing heavy. What was that noise? Ding ding. You let out a breath of relief. It’s just the doorbell. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, briefly glancing at the clock on your side table. 4:03 pm. How long did you sleep?
As you got up to answer the door you caught your reflection in the mirror, straightening your bed head out a little. As you made your way to the front of the house, you heard soft knocking on the door. “Coming, coming!” you yelled out to whoever was on the other side. When you arrived at the front door, you looked out the glass pane next the door, finding Yoongi standing there on your front porch. He was holding a - duffle bag? You squint your eyes in confusion, but open the door anyways. 
“Hi YN!” Yoongi starts, before taking in your appearance. You were wearing what looked to be pajama shorts and an oversized white t-shirt. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” He looked a little sheepish, running his hair through his blonde locks.
“A-ah, yeah, but it’s ok! I really shouldn’t have slept this long anyway,” you trailed off, opening the door a little wider and motioning for Yoongi to come in. “What’s that?” You asked, pointing at the black bag clutched in his hand.
“Oh, well…” he starts, coming all the way through the entryway and toeing his shoes off next to yours, he assumed. “Since the forecast says it’s supposed to snow, I brought some board games and some movies,” he seemed a little unsure, wary that you were going to tell him you didn’t want to hang out, or something. You smiled at him to ease his worries.
“I love board games,” you began, walking off towards your kitchen, Yoongi trailing behind you. “I haven’t really played any in years though,” you falter, “I’m not sure I’ll be any good.”
Yoongi gave you the gentlest smile you’ve seen from a man, making you melt a little more. What was this guy doing to you? “Don’t worry, I’m not the competitive type anyways.” He gave you a little wink, making you giggle. Yoongi’s eyes shot up to yours, a gummy smile spreading across his handsome face. The tinkling sound of your laugh made his inside heat up. He absolutely adored the sound. 
The two of you ended up ordering take out again, Yoongi insisting on paying this time, and sat on your couches with games and snacks spread out on the coffee table. You guys had already played a couple rounds of Scrabble, and one round of Scattergories and now you were leaning back enjoying the pizza Yoongi had ordered. Just like Yoongi had predicted, it started snowing around 6 o’clock and has been for the last hour or so. 
“You’re telling me you lived your whole life never having a pet?!” You laughed, hand covering your mouth still full of pizza.
“Nope. My parents never let me have a pet growing up and when I was old enough to move out I was just too busy to take care of one. A few years ago when I was feeling lonely, I decided to give it a go.”
You couldn’t imagine a life without pets. Growing up your family always had dogs or cats around, one time even adopting a pet hamster. You haven’t had pets in a few years, but you’re around them all the time due to work. 
“I love Mochi, though. I couldn’t imagine my life without him in it now.” He smiled fondly, talking about his beloved cat. “What about you, any pets back home?”
“Ah, no. I don’t have the time anymore. But it’s ok because I spend most of my time with them at work.” As much as you hated the people you worked with, you absolutely adored the animals. You didn’t think you could ever work in a profession that didn’t allow you to work with animals, it just wouldn’t make sense to you. 
Yoongi smiled at you, damn that smile was making you seriously weak. “I’d love to introduce you to Mochi while you’re here, if you’d like.” 
“I would love that.”
“Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow? It’ll be Christmas Eve, I can cook something for us, and you can hangout with Mochi. I’m sure he’d love the company, I’m usually pretty boring.” He laughed. 
“I -” you hesitated. Why were you hesitating? You really liked Yoongi. You liked him so much that you even forgot about your promise to him about ‘one more day’. You were enjoying the time you spent with him so much that thoughts about your parents, Namjoon, and your demons we’re at the back of your mind when you were with him. You mean, you’ve literally only smoked two cigarettes today, that has to be some sort of record for you. So why were you hesitating?You knew why, you didn’t want Yoongi to get too attached. Who were you kidding, you didn’t want to get too attached. You’d be leaving soon and it would only hurt you more in the long run. Yoongi was staring at you, a hopeful look in his eyes. “I’m not sure that’s a great idea, Yoongi.”
The crestfallen look on Yoongi’s face made you want to immediately take back your words, but he beat you to it. “Can I ask you why you think that?” He was much bolder than when you met a couple of days ago, you noted. 
You wrung your hands together in your lap, having finished your slice of pizza a few minutes ago. “I just don’t want to make this harder than it already is,” you trailed off, eyes fixated on a loose thread on the rug beneath the coffee table, “I have to go back home in a week, and like I told you a couple of days ago, I’m not sure if I even want to live that life anymore.” You whispered the last part, biting on the inside of your cheek. 
Yoongi’s eyes softened. He realized it wasn’t about him, but about you and how you didn’t want to hurt him. He knew you were too kind for your own good. “YN. It’s just dinner. And who says we can’t still be friends when you do go back home?” he added extra emphasis to the word do, making sure to not leave an ‘if’ in that sentence. He’s going to make sure you make it back home in one piece if it’s the last thing he does. 
You knew what Yoongi was trying to do, and you really did appreciate it. You also really enjoyed his company, so you thought, fuck it. “Ok” you whispered out softly, finally meeting Yoongi’s eyes. 
“Ok? Does that mean you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow night?”
“Yes. I’ll have dinner with you. On one condition” you acquiesced, a soft smirk on your face.
Yoongi’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his blonde fringe. “Anything” he breathed out, a little too quickly for his liking.
“I get to cuddle with your cat all night. I really miss the animals.”
Yoongi tried, and failed, to hide a huge grin. “Deal.”
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Last night, after you agreed to have dinner with Yoongi, you played a few more board games, kicking his ass in Monopoly a couple of times, before you said your goodbyes. Yoongi left the board games at your house, reasoning that he would definitely be back over to avenge himself in Monopoly. You giggled at him as you waved goodbye with the promise of dinner.
It was now 1 o’clock in the afternoon on Christmas Eve, and you were starting to panic. Christmas Eve was a hard day for you to get through, considering the memories you have of this day. Not only that, but you still couldn’t shake that odd feeling that you had when you woke up yesterday. However, today is even more panic-inducing because you are about to have dinner with your cute neighbor, who you may or may not have a slight (read: huge) crush on. 
You spent a majority of your morning sulking around your cabin, taking more than a few smoke breaks on the deck, and cleaning the kitchen and living room up in your anxiety driven state. Now, with nothing left to tidy up, you decide to start getting ready for dinner. 
After taking a long, hot shower, you dried and styled your hair, put just enough makeup on to cover your dark bags and sallow skin, and ventured to your room to rummage through your suitcase in order to find something appropriate to wear. You didn’t bring much with you on this trip besides sweatpants and pajamas. It’s not like you would’ve gone anywhere other than the corner store for more cigarettes had you not met Yoongi. You eventually decide on a dark pair of jeans that you luckily decided to throw in your suitcase last minute, and an old band t-shirt. You honestly didn’t have much else, and you were hoping Yoongi understood (he did) you didn’t really plan on seeing anyone these couple of weeks. 
A little after four in the afternoon, your anxiety started to build up even more. You were anxiously awaiting Yoongi’s text to head over to his place, and decided that it was a great time for a smoke. You grabbed Yoongi’s coat that was draped over your vanity chair, your pack of cigarettes, and your lighter, and headed out towards the deck. You had been so wrapped up in making yourself look presentable, that you had mostly forgotten what day it was, and the dread you usually felt about it. It was nice in a way, but now, sitting out here on your deck, staring out at that damned lake, you couldn’t help but remember why it was you started smoking these stupid cigarettes in the first place. 
“YN?” you heard someone call, distant, yet still close? You were confused, you couldn’t open your eyes. Why couldn’t you open your eyes? “YN, can you hear me?” Namjoon? Namjoon! You thought to yourself. Why couldn’t he hear you!?
For a moment, your eyes fluttered open. You saw Namjoon, hovering above you. But there was someone else next to him. They were wearing a uniform. A cop? No. They were wearing latex gloves and holding what looked like an IV bag.  “YN!” You heard Namjoon yell again. You desperately wanted to answer him, but your voice wouldn’t come through. You blinked a few times, before everything faded to black again. That was the last memory you had of your brother. 
Your cell phone dinged in your pocket, startling you back into the present. You looked at the cigarette in your hand, nearly burned to the butt and you haven’t taken a single drag. Quickly, you brought it up to your lips and inhaled before pulling your phone out of Yoongi’s coat. 
From Yoongi [4:33 pm]: dinner will be ready in 20, want to head over?
You glanced over to Yoongi’s house, briefly looking through the only window that had the curtains drawn. You didn’t see any movement. Had he seen you out here smoking again? You looked back at your phone, taking another drag from the cigarette, before typing out your reply. 
From You [4:35 pm]: ya, be right over
You pocketed your phone and put your cigarette out, tossing the butt into the trash can on your way back inside. You locked the sliding glass door before heading to your room to spray some perfume. You didn’t want to go over to Yoongi’s smelling like smoke. Before you left, you grabbed your keys, double checked the doors were locked, and walked the short distance between the two houses. 
Before you knocked, you took in the state of Yoongi’s home. It was quant, smaller than your parent’s cabin, painted white with forest green window sills and roof tiles. You noticed there were planter boxes under his front windows, but no plants to be found. Hung on his front door was a cute Christmas wreath, plain with pretty burgundy poinsettias on it. You smiled to yourself, happy to see some form of Christmas decorations, not having put any of your own out. You’ve really forgotten how much you used to love Christmas. You loved the decorations, the food, the movies, but you’ve really forgotten what it was like to feel that holiday cheer. Having Yoongi in your life, even for these few days, has really helped you see what you’ve been missing out on.
Before you could even lift your hand to knock on the dark green door, it was opening to reveal a giddy looking Yoongi. You took a moment to drink him in, in all his glory. He was wearing some dark jeans, much like you, and a plain black t-shirt. You idly wondered if he didn’t dress up on purpose to spare you the embarrassment of not having nice clothes. His blonde hair, usually a disheveled mess, was combed out and surprisingly shiny, despite what looked like excessive bleaching. The moment he saw that you were wearing his coat, a huge gummy grin took over his face, causing his cat-like eyes to scrunch in happiness. The look on his face made butterflies erupt in your stomach, as you mirrored his grin.
“Hi,” he said shyly, still smiling.
“Hi yourself,” you breathed, “thank you for having me over.”
He waved away your thanks, moving aside and gesturing for you to come in. “Don’t mention it, really. The pleasure is all mine.” You don’t know the weight those words hold, but he means it, you can tell. 
As you walked through the entryway of his home, you pulled off your shoes, setting them on the neatly organized shoe rack next to his front door. Moving through to his living room, you noticed how well organized his entire house was. There was a pristine looking cover over his sofa which also housed a couple of blankets and throw pillows. On his coffee table were a few books and what looked like photo albums. As you took in your surroundings, Yoongi watched you curiously, one eyebrow cocked. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but you weren’t expecting him to be so… clean?
“I like to keep things organized, sometimes it can be a bad habit of mine,” he trailed off, looking around his neat space, “dinner is almost done. Do you want something to drink?”
“Yes, please.” You sighed in relief. You were pacified at the thought of having a glass of something to help lessen your nerves. You only knew Yoongi for the past three days, but for some reason, this almost felt like a first date. God, when was the last time you went on a date? It had to have been at least 5 years ago. The thought alone made your anxiety flare up tenfold. 
“I have both white and red wine, soda and different types of tea…” you were still standing awkwardly, hands clasped in front of you looking almost like you were afraid to move further into his house. Yoongi walked up to you, gently taking your hand in his, causing your eyes to snap up, meeting his own. “Hey, it’s ok,” he smiled gently at you, “come on, I’ll get us those drinks.” 
He led you into his kitchen which had his dining room attached, a small four person wooden table sitting near a bay window. It was cozy, you thought, somewhere you would like to retire too. Now, that wasn’t a thought you’d had in a long time. You never wondered about growing old, surprise you even made it this far. 
Yoongi let go of your hand to reach into a cabinet by his sink. “Wine ok?” he asked, sensing the tension in your body. 
“Y-yes. Red, please.” You weren’t sure why you were being so shy and awkward, you’ve spent the last couple of days getting to know Yoongi, pretty well you might add. You think it’s partly to do with what day it is, as Christmas Eve always puts you a little more on edge, and a little more flighty. Yoongi quietly pours two glasses of red wine, passing one to you politely. You murmur a thank you before taking a sip.
Yoongi watched you as you sipped your wine, looking around his kitchen curiously. He could sense your anxiety, it was rolling off of you in waves. He didn’t want this to be awkward, he wanted to make sure you had a good night, and wanted to take your mind off of things for a while. “Want to meet Mochi?” he asked, hopeful it would shift your mood a little. 
Your eyes lit up at the mention of the cat, and were quickly nodding your head. Yoongi walked away down the hallway, returning moments later with a petite framed calico cat in his arms. You internally chuckled at the resemblance they shared in their small statures. “He’s a little shy, but if you give him some time, he’ll warm up to you” Yoongi smiled at you, leading you over to his couch, sitting down with Mochi in his lap. Slowly, you sat down, not wanting to scare the creature, and sat your wine glass on a wooden coaster on the coffee table. 
Immediately upon sitting, Mochi hopped off Yoongi’s lap and right into yours. You let out a small, shocked gasp as the cat started kneading into your thighs, making himself comfortable. Yoongi’s eyes widened as they met you. “H-he never does that. It usually takes him a while to warm up to people. In fact, the first time my friend Jungkook came over, he nearly lost an eye to him.” He chuckled lowly at the memory. 
“Animals usually like me,” you said softly, bringing your hand up to run through Mochi’s fur. It was long, and extremely fluffy, “I think they know how much I adore them.” Yoongi watched on as you smiled down at his now purring cat in your lap. For a brief moment, he wondered what it would be like to adopt another cat with you, or maybe even a dog, before lightly shaking his head and rising from the couch. 
“I’m gonna check on dinner, it should be done soon. You’ll probably be… occupied, until then.” Yoongi gave you a soft smile, which you returned, before walking off into the kitchen. You leaned back into the soft fabric of the couch, absentmindedly running your hand over Mochi. 
You could hear the clinking of dishes coming from the kitchen as you loved on Mochi. Whatever Yoongi was cooking smelled absolutely delicious and was making your mouth water. You had only eaten breakfast today, and were on the verge of starving. On top of that, you haven’t had a Christmas meal in ages. You were actually starting to get excited about having dinner with Yoongi, and you had this purring love bug in your lap, and your glass of wine, to thank. 
“It’s ready!” Yoongi called from the kitchen, scaring the sleeping cat, causing him to jump up and run off towards the kitchen. “Oh you scaredy cat” Yoongi grumbled as Mochi slid past him on the floor. You chuckled as you got up from the couch and headed towards the dining table. Upon seeing what Yoongi had laid out on the table, your eyes widened and you let out a breathy gasp. 
“You made all this?!” You questioned incredulously. 
“U-uh, yeah? I told you, I used to cook with my grandma. We always made Christmas dinners together,” he ran his hand through his, now messy, locks, “I still try and cook as much as I can, I actually enjoy it.” He looked away, blush rising to his cheeks.
You looked at all the different assortments of food Yoongi had prepared. There was a large skillet that contained beef bulgogi, and smaller dishes that housed kimchi, steamed eggs, japchae, and steamed rice. “It looks amazing, Yoongi!” You exclaimed, a genuine smile on your face. 
“Well let’s not stare at it all night. Let’s eat!”
You and Yoongi ate your meal, laughing at each other’s odd Christmas stories. You both had another glass of wine, feeling looser as the night went on. Mochi sat close to his owner, tail flicking idly, waiting for scraps of food to be accidentally flung from chopsticks during conversation. According to Yoongi, the cat loved eggs, a trait he found both odd and endearing. You were so enthralled in conversation with Yoongi, you barely registered that the food was nearly gone, two glasses of wine downed, and it was nearing midnight. Sparing a glance at the oven clock, you realized just how late it was getting.  “Do you mind,” you started, before hesitating, unsure if you wanted to ask. 
“What is it, YN?” Yoongi encouraged you. He was so kind, always observant, sensing when you needed a little push.
“Would you mind if I went out back to smoke?” You looked away, rubbing your hand up and down your arm, embarrassed that you were about to bring your conversation to and end just because you needed to smoke. Nasty habit, you knew you should quit, but it was hard.
“Oh, of course! Sorry, I didn’t realize it was getting so late,” he started, getting up from his seat and grabbing dishes, “want me to join you? I can deal with the mess later.”
You grabbed your own plate, following him to the sink and setting it down gently. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.” You smile at Yoongi, happy for the company.
Yoongi didn’t have a deck like you, but he had a nice yard with tall, green grass. Right off his dining room was a sliding glass door that led to a small concrete patio that was furnished with a couple patio chairs and a fire pit. His land went straight back, down to the lake, just like yours. The only thing separating your properties was a line of shrubs and trees. Yoongi was busying himself with the fire pit as you sat in one of the chairs. You opened your pack of cigarettes, noticing you only had one left, mentally nothing you’d had to run down to the store to grab more. 
As you lit your cigarette, Yoongi was lighting a small fire with the firewood he kept by the backdoor. It was a small one, but it was enough to keep you warm in the freezing weather. Instead of sitting down in the chair across from you, like you expected him to, Yoongi stood in front of you and held his hand out. For a moment, you were confused, until you realized he wanted you to take his outstretched hand. You complied, placing your free hand in his, turning your head to blow out your previous inhale of smoke. 
Yoongi gave you a gentle tug, indicating he wanted you to stand up. As you stood, Yoongi maneuvered himself behind you, so you were standing directly in front of the fire, as he shakily wrapped his arms around your middle. The feeling of his hands on your waist was doing things to you in your alcohol hazed state. 
“Is this ok?” he asked quietly, lips close to your ear and he set his chin on your shoulder. You nodded slightly, feeling almost dizzy from whatever this feeling was that Yoongi was causing. You could feel his warm breath on your neck as you took another drag from your cigarette. 
“Does the smoke not bother you?” you asked, a little forced, holding the smoke in your lungs. 
“I just want to be close to you,” he whispers, “YN, I like you.” 
You giggled at his comment, releasing the smoke from your chest. “I like you too, Yoongi.”
“No, YN, I mean I really, really like you.”
To say you were surprised by his sudden confession would be an understatement. You took a sharp inhale of breath, nearly choking on the cold air, and not because of your cigarette, before Yoongi began again, “I’m sorry if it’s sudden, or if it’s not what you want to hear right now, but I really need you to know that I enjoy spending time with you, and would love the opportunity to get to know you better, if you’ll allow me.” You tossed the butt of your cigarette into the fire pit and hesitantly turned around in Yoongi’s arms. 
Your arms snaked around his shoulder, criss-crossing behind his neck. “You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew the things that go on in my head.” The wine was making you bold, making you want to tell Yoongi exactly how you felt. “I’m afraid if you get to know me, you wont like what you find.”
Yoongi sighed, looking deep into your eyes that have long since lost their sparkle. “I can’t promise you much, YN. I’m a freelance writer who lives in the middle of nowhere. But what I can promise you, is that whatever I find in you, wont send me running. I know what I’ve already found in you - you’re a sweet, compassionate girl, who in just three days has me falling head over heels,” he breathed, inches away from your face, “I’ve never met anyone like you, YN.” Yoongi brought his hand from your waist up to your face, ever so gently gracing the back of his fingers against your sharp cheekbone. 
You leaned into his touch, not remembering what it was like to be cared for in such a gentle manner. “Yoongi, I-” you weren’t sure what you wanted to say. You wanted so badly to give in to his sweet words, to let him in and break down your walls for him. You were scared, terrified even, of what that meant. He would learn all about your dark past, your demons, the monsters that threatened to take you down. A silent tear trailed down your cheek because of your internal battle. 
Yoongi was quick to swipe it away with his thumb. “You don’t have to say anything back, YN,” his voice barely a whisper, like if he spoke too loud you’d blow away in the cold breeze, “Just promise me one thing?” You made a sound of confirmation, “One more day.”
At that, you broke down in Yoongi’s strong arms. Your face pushed into his firm chest, tears flowing freely. Sobs wracked your chest and Yoongi held you, rubbing a hand up and down your back. You weren’t sure, but you think you feel Yoongi’s chest rising and falling in a rhythm that made it seem like he was crying with you. You didn’t want to chance a look at him, worried it would break you further. You stood there for what felt like an eternity before you calmed enough to pull back from Yoongi, hands unclasping from behind his back and coming around to fist in his shirt. “Thank you, Yoongi. Thank you.” You let out a couple more weak sobs, before hugging him as tightly as you could. You didn’t need to explain, Yoongi understood.
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You and Yoongi stayed wrapped up in each other's arms for the better part of the night, having moved inside to the couch, before you were getting too tired to keep your eyes open. Yoongi was laying against the back of the couch, you slotted in front of him with his arms around your chest, holding you tightly to him. You let out a small yawn, making Yoongi smile to himself. “Tired, love?” 
You let out another yawn, bringing your hand up to rub your eyes. “Yeah,” you sighed, “I should probably get going.” You really didn’t want to leave, but you knew you should. You would feel a lot better in the morning if you slept in your own bed, not on this too small couch. 
“I’ll walk you home,” Yoongi offered, standing up from the couch, pulling you with him. You moved to take off his coat before he stopped you with a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Keep it. It looks better on you anyway.” He smiled down at you, running his hand from your shoulder, down your arm, taking your hand in his. 
You smiled up at the slightly taller man, blushing profusely. You followed Yoongi through his home, toeing on your shoes at the front door, hands still intertwined. As promised, Yoongi walked you to your front porch, waiting until you had entered your house and locked the door before walking back to his own home. Once inside, you leaned your back against the door, head tilting until it hit the glass window pane in the middle of it. You sighed to yourself, feeling lighter than you have in probably years. You weren’t used to this feeling, and on Christmas Eve of all days. Well… You guessed it was probably Christmas now, with how long you spent laying on Yoongi’s couch. With that thought in mind, you pulled your phone out from Yoongi’s coat pocket to check the time. Before you could even register the time, you were stopping in your tracks as what greeted you on your phone screen. When was the last time you checked your phone? You’d been so wrapped up in Yoongi you don’t recall looking at it all night.
On your lock screen, you saw a missed call. Several, actually. From Namjoon. 
Your heart stuttered in your chest. Why was he calling you? You haven’t spoken to him in nearly three years. There was no reason for him to be calling you, unless there was some kind of emergency, right? Panicking, you walked further into the cabin, not bothering to take off the coat or your shoes. You sped walked right into your bedroom, eyes glued to your phone the entire time. Should you call him back? You weren’t sure if you wanted to speak to him right now, especially after the wonderful night you had with Yoongi. But - what if he was calling to apologize, to make things right? You had to find out.
As you unlocked your phone, you saw the notification for a new voicemail. Hesitantly, you opened your calls app, and clicked on the message from Namjoon. You saw it was only about a minute long. Curiosity getting the best of you, you played the message:
“Y-YN? YN! W-what are you doing baby sister?” you could tell he was drunk from the way he was slurring his words, panic immediately rising in your chest. “Are you at mom and dad’s cabin? Yo-you always did love it there, didn’t you? Loved it so much you even tried ending your own life there!” A sharp laugh came from the phone, causing you to pull it away from your ear for a second. “You know YN, I wish you- you did. I wish I never pulled you out of th-that fucking lake. Then m-maybe I wouldn’t have to relive that God damn nigh-nightmare every fucking n-night YN,” you didn’t want to listen anymore to this anymore, you shut your eyes tight,hot tears welling up behind your eyelids, “G-go be with mom and dad, it’s what you want right?! I just-” the line cut off, ending the voicemail. You stumbled backwards, back hitting your bedroom door. You couldn’t see, lights still off, not having bothered with them when you burst in the room. Stunned, you still had the phone to your ear, other hand coming up to push at your eyes, willing the tears to stop forming. You slid down the back of your bedroom door, finally letting go of your phone, causing it to clatter down to the wood floor. Your breathing was ragged, eyes still glued shut in pain. Panic. You were panicking. You haven’t had a panic attack in a couple of years, but you knew the signs. You hugged your knees to your chest and fell over on your side, sobbing into your forearms. 
Is that how Namjoon, your own brother, really felt all these years? He wished he never saved your life? It shouldn’t be surprising to you, the last memory you have of him is in the back of an ambulance, grief written all over his face. That was the last time you saw him, until he texted you months later after countless missed calls, texts, and emails from you. He told you that you needed help, and that he needed to distance himself from you. Did your actions take such a huge toll on his life, that he wished you were no longer on this planet? 
You aren’t sure how long you laid on your bedroom floor, sobbing, but it must have been hours. By the time you finally pulled yourself up, you could see the beginnings of morning shining through your window. 
You needed to smoke, or drink heavily, or do something to ease this pain. You remembered briefly that you were out of cigarettes, not willing to drive yourself to the store to buy more. Drinking seemed like it would only worsen your pain right now, so you pulled yourself over to your suitcase, tossing it open on your bed. After a few moments of rifling through your things, you found what you were looking for, before heading off into your bathroom.
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It was Christmas day. Yoongi hasn’t been excited for Christmas since he was a teenager, and his mother was still around to make the holidays special. He hasn’t done much for Christmas since he moved out here. Every once in a while, Jungkook would invite him over for Christmas dinner with his wife a couple towns over, but she was pregnant this year and Yoongi didn’t want to intrude. 
Yoongi was actually excited for Christmas today. Sure, he didn’t have a tree, or presents to give, but he had someone to spend it with. Someone special, which was saying a lot for a recluse like him. 
It was early, an ungodly hour according to Yoongi on a normal day, but today was different. As he got out of bed, he startled Mochi who shot across the floor, out his bedroom door. He smiled to himself and shook his head lightly. Such a scaredy cat, he thought to himself. Yoongi planned on making some Christmas cookies, or maybe a rice cake for today, before heading over to your house to spend the day with you. After his late night confession yesterday, Yoongi was feeling bolder than ever when it came to you, and decided to shoot you a quick text to let you know he was thinking about you.
To YN [7:37 am]: good morning, love
To YN [7:37 am]: I hope it’s ok if I come over in a bit
To YN [7:38 am]: I want to let you sleep in a little longer, but I can’t wait to see you
He pocketed his phone, satisfied with his texts, for now. He assumed you were still sleeping since you were at his last night until well after midnight. 
As the morning went on, Yoongi whipped up a traditional rice cake with fruits, another recipe from his grandmother’s cookbook, something she always made for his family at Christmas. By the time he was done with the cake, it was nearing nine in the morning, and he was starting to worry slightly that you haven't texted him back. He usually saw you out on your deck having a morning smoke by now, and he had definitely been sneaking glances out his kitchen window to try and catch a glimpse of you. He didn’t see you all morning, which was causing a slight panic to arise in his chest. 
By 9:15, Yoongi couldn’t contain his panic anymore. Something was wrong. He could feel it. You should be awake by now. You always came out for a cigarette by now. Pulling on a coat, Yoongi put on his slippers, rice cake long forgotten, as he trudged over to your front door.
He knocked gently at first, not wanting to startle you if you indeed were just sleeping in. No response. This time, Yoongi wrapped on the door a little harder, making enough noise to wake you up without a doubt. He waited a couple of minutes before the feeling in his chest dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. This isn’t right. 
Yoongi walked around the front of your house to peer into your bedroom window. He vaguely remembered the location of it from when he carried you in there the first night you met. He put his hands up to the glass and attached his face to his fingers, looking into your room. He didn’t see you, but what he did see worried him even more. Your bedroom door was wide open and your suitcase was open on your bed. He glanced at the driveway to confirm your car was indeed still there before he ran around to your back deck. Yoongi was in full panic mode now, seconds away from breaking a window. When he got to your sliding glass door, he attempted to open it, and to his surprise it slid right open. He would have to give you a lecture about locking your doors after he made sure you were ok.
“YN?” he called out, slightly louder than he meant, “YN? Love? Are you in here?” Yoongi walked through your living room hesitantly, almost scared of what he might find. He didn’t see any sign of you, so he trudged down the hallway leading to your bedroom. “YN!?” His voice was starting to become panicked the longer he couldn’t find you. “YN please,” he sighed out, realizing wherever you were you probably weren’t hearing him. He peeked into your room one more time to make sure you really weren’t in there. He didn’t find you, but what he did find was your cellphone, laying on the floor with a cracked screen. Yoongi tilted his head as he knelt down to pick the phone up. It lit up with the movement, showing him the missed texts from himself, and missed calls from… Namjoon? Oh no. “No. No, no, no” Yoongi whispered to himself. This couldn't be good. He pocketed your phone, making his way further down the hallway. He saw light coming from underneath one of the closed doors and immediately started banging on it. “YN!? YN are you in there? Please love, open the door!” Yoongi tried turning the door handle, unsurprised when he found it locked. “YN I will break this door down!” He threatened, terrified beyond belief at what he would find when he did.
With one sharp inhale of air, Yoongi grabbed onto the door handle and shoved his shoulder into the door. Once, twice, and on the third hit it popped open, breaking the doorframe in the process. Yoongi ignored the stinging pain in his shoulder as soon as he saw your prone form on the bathroom floor, empty pill bottle in the sink. The air left Yoongi’s lungs as he knelt down next to your head, gently cradling your head in his hands, setting it in his lap. “YN?! No, no! YN!” He was frantically trying to get his phone out of his pocket and unlocked. “YN, honey, please. Please wake up, please. YN you promised. You promised me YN!” his cries were frantic, tears streaming down his face, “You promised me! Please YN!” he begged you to wake up, to be alive, terrified he would never see your eyes light up or your beautiful smile again. Hot tears streamed onto his phone as he dialed for emergency services.
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Yoongi sat in the waiting area of the emergency room, speaking quietly into the phone, fingers playing with a frayed edge of this t-shirt. “I don’t know, Jungkook, they won't tell me anything.” He hadn’t stopped crying since he found you on your bathroom floor, now just letting silent tears roll down his cheeks.
“You’re telling me, you met some girl four days ago, have been spending all your time with her, and you find her, half alive on her bathroom floor? What kind of mess are you getting yourself into Yoongi? You’ve never been the type to take an interest in girls, much less ones you barely know!” Jungkook half-yelled through the phone. Yoongi understood why Jungkook was worried, he really did, but he was just looking for some kind of anchor right now to keep him grounded.
“JK, please,” Yoongi barely whimpered into the phone, lip trembling, “I l- I don’t want to lose her.” He wasn’t ready to say the words yet, not when he wasn’t sure if you were even going to make it. 
Jungkook heaved a heavy sigh, obviously frustrated with the situation. “I’m really sorry man. I wish I could tell you she was going to be alright, she’s - what was her name again?”
“YN.” 
“Right, YN. From what you’ve told me, it seems like you got to her before it was too late, right? I’m sure everything will be fine. You said they’re pumping her stomach now, I’m sure it won't be much longer before you have more answers,” Jungkook sounded like he wanted to add on to that, but thought better of it, “Do you need me to come by? Eunha is at her parents house right now, I hung back to talk to you, I don’t mind-”
“Jungkook, no. It’s fucking Christmas. I’m sorry for taking you away-” he sniffled harder, “away from your family.” The dam is broken now, Yoongi was unable to stop the tears from flowing, sobs wracking his small frame. 
Jungkook’s heart broke at the sound of his oldest friend’s tears. He didn’t mind leaving his wife for a few hours, he knew she was safe with her parents, probably about to start working on dinner for tonight. “I’ll be there as soon as I can, man. Hang in there.”
Yoongi let out a shaky sigh, looking down at his now black phone screen. He felt like he was underwater, like his heart was beating in his ears. He could vaguely hear the chatter of the nurses and people in the waiting room, but his sole focus was on the pounding in his chest and the sinking feeling in his gut. All he could think about was you; what drove you to this? What could he have done differently last night to ensure your safety? Why was your brother calling you insistently throughout the morning? Most importantly, were you going to be ok? He didn’t want to think about that right now, couldn’t think about that right now, unless he wanted the hospital to have to admit him, too. 
Before Yoongi could spiral any further, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see his youngest friend, dressed in gray sweats and a loose black pullover. Jungkook had a sad look in his eyes, not pity, but heartache at the pain his friend was feeling. Jungkook squatted down in front of Yoongi, hand still on his shoulder, so he could be at eye level with him. “Hey man. Any news?” He asked, solemnly. 
Yoongi shook his head slightly, trying to collect himself enough to utter a few words. “No. Nothing.” Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, willing the tears to stop, just for a moment. His effort was all in vain, as Jungkook took hold of Yoongi’s hand, pulling him up into the taller man’s chest, embracing him. Yoongi’s small frame seemed even smaller in this moment, shoulders shrunk in on themselves, as Jungkook hugged the broken man.
“Why don’t you tell me about her?” Jungkook whispered to Yoongi, rubbing a hand up and down his back comfortingly. “We can grab some coffee and you can tell me all about her.” Jungkook wanted to get Yoongi away from this waiting room full of curious eyes, and wanted him to relax a little. He knew he was going to want to see you as soon as you were in the clear, and he wanted to make sure he was in a good enough state to do so. He could feel Yoongi nod against his chest, pulling away but still keeping one arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. 
Yoongi and Jungkook sat at a quiet table in the corner of the hospital cafeteria, nursing two black coffees. Yoongi was staring out of the window to his right, not really paying attention to what Jungkook was saying.
“Yoongi, do you want to talk about it? How did you guys even meet?”
Yoongi gave a small shrug, “she’s been visiting every year since I moved into my grandma’s house. I just now finally built up the courage to say hi. She seemed sad.” had a permanent frown in his brow. 
“So you wanted to say hello because she seemed sad?”
“Yes, JK, what more do you want from me?” Yoongi shot the younger man a glare from where he sat across from him.
Jungkook leaned back slightly, holding his hands up in a pacifying manner. “Hey, hey, man. I just want to hear about her, want you to tell me about her. That’s all” He said in a hushed tone.
Yoongi looked down at his coffee, focusing on the small billows of steam rising from it. “I’m sorry - I just -” he looked up at Jungkook, unshed tears threatening to fall again, “She’s perfect, you know? She doesn’t deserve any of this pain. She lost her parents, her brother, basically everyone who cared about her. I just wanted to- to be someone she could lean on,” he blinked rapidly, trying to rid the tears before adding on, “I think I love her, JK.”
Jungkook’s eyes widened a fraction before he schooled his expression, nodding his head. “I support you Yoongi, you know that. I always will.” Yoongi nodded at this. He knew it, would never forget it. Him and Jungkook had been through so much together, that’s why he was the first person Yoongi called when he got to the hospital this morning. “What do you think happened that caused her to do it?”
Yoongi bit his lip, remembering he had your phone tucked away in his pocket still. He slid it out, setting it on the tabletop between him and Jungkook. “I’m not sure… but I think it has something to do with her brother calling her.” As if he was summoned, Namjoon’s name appeared on the small screen, phone vibrating so violently it moved a little across the table. He’d been calling all morning, and from what Yoongi could gather from your lock screen, all night, too. It wasn’t his place to go through your phone, or to answer the calls from your brother, especially if him calling had anything to do with your current condition.
“Are you going to answer him?” Jungkook hesitantly asked, looking from the phone, to Yoongi, and back again as the vibrating faded out. 
Yoongi shook his head quickly, causing a sharp pain to shoot through his temple. He really needed to stop crying, he thought. “No. What if he’s the reason she’s here in the first place?”
“He’s her brother right? Her family?” Jungkook started, seeing Yoongi nod in confirmation he continued, “don’t you think he should know his sister is in the hospital for attempted suicide?”
Yoongi scoffed. He was bitter, but part of him knew Jungkook was right. He’s still her family, after all. Would it be the right thing to do, to tell him you’re here? Would he even want to see you? From what you’ve told Yoongi about your brother, he doesn’t think so. “He left her the last time it happened, hasn’t spoken to her since,” Yoongi mumbled, almost too quietly for Jungkook to hear, “I’m not sure he would even care.”
Jungkook pursed his lips. He doesn’t know you, nor is he going to pretend to know what it’s like to be in your shoes. Yoongi knew you better than he did, so he was going to take Yoongi’s word for it. “Want to head back up? See if there’s any news?” Yoongi nodded, looking down at the floor. The both grabbed their to-go cups and headed towards the elevators. 
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Pain. Seething hot pain in your throat, that’s all you mind was focusing on right now. Your vision was black, and no matter how hard you tried to make a sound, nothing would come out. It felt like a thousand hot knives were forcing themselves down your esophagus, blocking any air flow. You were suffocating, this must be what it feels like to die, right? Because the last thing you remember was laying down on the cool tile floor of your bathroom after you swallowed your entire bottle of antidepressants. The pain in your throat must be from the excessive amount of pills you downed, right? Nothing else could explain this excruciating pain. You were obviously being punished for taking fate into your own hands. That was the only reasonable explanation you could come up with in your current state of mind.
“She’s waking up!” 
Wait. Why can you hear people? If there were people around, were you alive? 
“Administer more Propofol, she needs to be unconscious.”
No. No, no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to be gone. You wanted to be gone, but right now all you could think about now was making this pain stop. You silently prayed that whoever was helping you would make this pain go away. 
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Yoongi was leaning on Jungkook’s firm shoulder, both sitting on ugly plastic green chairs in the hospital waiting room. A nurse had informed Yoongi that you were out of the operating room, and were moved to a more private ward of the hospital to recover. He wasn’t allowed in yet, as they wanted to monitor you a little while longer to make sure you were out of the woods. They explained to him that the first few hours after an overdose were the most crucial if there was any hope of the brain recovering. 
Yoongi was distraught, to say the least. Torn between calling Namjoon and waiting. He knew you didn’t have your parents anymore, knew that you and your brother didn’t speak, despite the 100 plus missed calls on your phone that said otherwise. He wasn’t sure if you had any friends back home in Busan, but from what you’ve told him, he guessed you didn’t. He was worried that you wouldn’t remember him when you woke up, and you would be confused and scared, alone in the hospital. He thought about calling your brother, just so you’d have a familiar face to wake up to, but the devil on his shoulder wouldn’t let him make the call. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach that if you did, in fact, remember what happened, the last person you’d want to see is Namjoon. 
Jungkook was deathly silent, texting his wife and family updates about you and Yoongi. Despite not knowing Yoongi well, or you at all, Jungkook and his entire extended family took an interest in your well-being. Jungkook told them how you had no family, and they completely understood why he was missing Christmas dinner. Yoongi felt bad for keeping him, but Jungkook reassured him over and over again, this is where he wants to be. 
“Mr. Min?” a mouse-like voice called from the circular desk at the center of the waiting area. 
Yoongi shot ramrod straight in his seat, eyes searching for the voice. A short, dark-haired woman who looked to be around Yoongi’s age, was making her way towards him. She had a sweet smile on her face, which only minutely lessened Yoongi’s worries.
“Mr. Min?” She asked again, hesitantly. She waited for Yoongi’s grunt in confirmation before continuing, “I don’t have anyone listed as Miss Y/LN’s next of kin, so since you were the one who brought her here, would you like an update on her status?” He voice was kind and soft, respectful of the environment they were currently in.
Yoongi cleared his throat lightly, “Ye-yes, of course. Yes.” He stuttered out, standing up and moving towards the kind nurse. He glanced over his shoulder at Jungkook, who gave him a small smile, encouraging him to go with the lady.
“I’ll be fine, do what you need to do,” Jungkook waved him off.
The young nurse nodded and turned around, walking back towards the desk. Yoongi trailed after her like a lost puppy, waiting for answers. “Mr. Min, we’re going to be keeping Miss Y/LN here at the hospital for a few days. She’s being put under suicide watch for 72 hours, as is protocol with cases like these,” Yoongi nodded solemnly, understanding the severity of the situation, “I see you listed on her intake paperwork that this wasn’t her first attempt. Is that right?”
Yoongi nodded his head. He didn’t like sharing your personal stories with this stranger, but he understood it was going to help them better care for you, which is all he wanted. “Yes. She had attempted… yeah. Three years ago.” 
The woman nodded her head, writing something on the clipboard she now held in her hands. “Thank you, Mr. Min. We’re going to continue to monitor her, but her vitals are looking good, and there are no outward signs of brain damage right now. This could change however, as once she’s awake and alert, her doctor will want to do another brain scan.”
Yoongi nodded, just glad you were alive and breathing. 
“She’s not awake yet, the sedatives are still wearing off, but they’ve removed intubation and she is resting,” Yoongi winced at this fact, “would you like to see her?”
Yoongi’s eyes finally met the small nurses after staring daggers into the hospital linoleum. “I can see her?”
The woman gave a short nod and a gentle smile. “Of course! I can tell you care a lot about her. She’s very lucky to have you, sir.”
Yoongi nodded, looking down again. He didn’t feel very lucky, and didn’t think you would either right about now. 
“Follow me.” 
Yoongi followed the lady back through two industrial looking double doors, past sterile smelling hospital rooms and nurses and doctors moving rapidly up and down the corridors. Yoongi always hated hospitals, they reminded him of when his Grandmother passed away. He was so hyper focused on walking, he barely heard her when the nurse spoke again. “Before you go in, it’s best to take a moment to prepare yourself for what you’re going to see. It can be really hard to see a loved one in this state, so I’m here to answer any questions you may have,” she advised kindly as she came to a stop outside your room. Yoongi’s stomach fluttered at the mention of you being his ‘loved one’ and he mentally scolded himself. This nurse had no idea about the strange dynamic that is your relationship, if you could even call it that. 
Yoongi shook his head lightly, indicating he didn’t have any questions, at least, not for her. She gave one nod of her head, before clutching her clipboard to her chest. “I wish you the best, Mr. Min.” She said as she walked away. 
Yoongi took a deep breath through his mouth, exhaling slowly through his nose. He wasn’t prepared to see you in a hospital bed, but his excitement at seeing you alive was overtaking his senses right now. He slowly pushed the door to your room open, taking two hesitant steps through the threshold. His eyes immediately scanned the room, falling over your fragile, but breathing, body. As Yoongi quietly shut the door behind him, tears automatically started falling down his cheeks, silent sobs hitting his chest. He swiftly closed the gap between him and your bed, lip trembling, and took your cold, limp hand in his. He didn’t even bother pulling one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs with him, he just knelt on the floors, kneecaps be damned. He wasn’t sure how he was going to react when he saw you, he knew he would feel relief at knowing you were alive, but he didn’t expect to be quite so overcome with emotion. He definitely didn’t expect to feel intense happiness at the fact that he could hold you again. You had no idea the effect you had on him, and in only four short days. 
You laid on the hospital bed, dressed in one of those white, scratchy hospital gowns. Your eyes were even more sunken in than Yoongi remembers, skin sallow and taking on an almost sickly green color. Your hair was a mess, and Yoongi inwardly cursed the nurses for not at least brushing through it for you. Your arm was bruised purple and green at the crease of your elbow where your IV now sat. Your bottom half was covered by a thick blue blanket that looked a little itchy. Yoongi grabbed the top of the blanket with his free hand, moving it up farther on your body, tucking it lightly at your far side. Even in this state, you looked beautiful to him. Despite what has taken place over the last 12 or so hours, he was still enraptured by you and your beauty. 
Yoongi brought your bony hand up to his face, placing a soft, lingering kiss on the back of your knuckles. His head hurt, his eyes hurt, and his heart hurt. He didn’t have any more tears to cry, just silent sobs as he laid his forehead on your cold hand. 
Eventually Jungkook made his way up to your room, after being informed by the same brunette nurse that Yoongi was up there with you. He knocked softly on the door twice before opening it and entering. Yoongi was still knelt on the floor by your bed. Jungkook sighed and knelt down next to him
“She’s gonna be ok man,” Jungkook started, placing his hand on Yoongi’s back, “you should rest before she wakes up.”
Yoongi nodded, allowing Jungkook to pull a chair over for him before sitting down in it, never letting go of your hand. Jungkook sat in a chair a little bit behind Yoongi, making sure the older man knew he was there for support. They sat in silence like that for a while before Yoongi started to feel drowsy, eyes falling shut and drifting into a fitful sleep, forehead pressed to your bed. 
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You slowly blinked your eyes open, squinting from the bright lights above you. An intense smell of bleach hit your nose causing your throat to constrict and burn. The burn. It was still there, but dulled from last time you remember. You closed your eyes again, squeezing them shut in pain as you tried to swallow, causing a small, yet hoarse, whimper to emit from your throat. 
Immediately, Yoongi’s head shot up at the sound of you. He started rubbing soothing circles onto the back of your hand, still clutched in his. “YN,” he whispered, standing from his seated position, moving even closer to your body.
You blinked your eyes a few times before looking up at Yoongi. He could see the pain in your eyes with the way they were scrunched up cutely at the sides. You brought your hand to your throat subconsciously and Yoongi knew what you meant. He grabbed the pitcher of water from your bedside table and poured you a cup, passing it to you. You silently thanked him with a nod of your head and started gulping down the water. Yoongi sat back down and watched you carefully. He heard Jungkook stand from behind him, dimmed the lights, having watched how you were squinting your eyes, and quietly left the room to give you both some privacy. Yoongi reminded himself to thank him profusely later, but right now his focus was on you.
You finished the cup of water and Yoongi took the cup from your hand and set it back on the side table. “YN,” he whispered again, bringing his hand up to brush against your cheek, “you’re ok.” He smiled at you, genuinely smiled for the first time since last night. He was so beyond happy to see you, alive and well in front of him. 
You had a million thoughts running through your mind right now, and Yoongi could tell by the panic stricken look flashing in your eyes. He soothingly rubbed his hand up and down your arm that was free of any tubes. “It’s ok, love,” he comforted, “I’m here to listen if you want to talk, or if you don’t I’ll sit here with you in silence. You don’t need to explain yourself. I’m just happy you’re ok.” He smiled at you, and even though you could feel the love radiating off of him, you felt sick to your stomach.
How could Yoongi still want to be by your side after what you had just done? How could he still want to comfort you when you were like this? You had a lot of questions, but there was one at the forefront of your mind. “Did you find me?” Your voice was rough from the intubation tube, which you guessed was the reason for your throat burning before. You looked away from Yoongi when you asked, not being brave enough to meet his eye, in fear of what you might find. 
He sighed lightly, almost inaudibly. “Yes.” You could tell without even looking at him that he was choking up, on the verge of tears. At the sound of his voice, you let your own hot tears roll down your cheeks, not bothering to wipe them away. A large hand immediately came up to wipe them away. “Hey, don’t cry, love,” he whispered, “I’m not mad, I’m not upset. These are happy tears, I promise.”
“I’m not happy,” you sniffled, “I’m sorry, Yoongi, that you had to see me like that.” You brought your own hand up to your face to wipe at your nose. 
“YN, I don’t care about that. I swear to you, all that matters to me now is you. I want to keep you safe, want to help you fight this battle so you don’t have to do it alone. You have me, all of me.” His words were so sincere, so loving, you spared a glance at him, and the moment your eyes met, you knew he meant everything that he said. Even in your current state, he sent butterflies erupting throughout your stomach. You took in his face for a moment, red and puffy, tear stained cheeks, but his eyes were happy. You felt safe with him. You knew you’d have to talk about what all this means later, explain to him why you did what you did, but for now, you just wanted to be in his presence. 
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Yoongi sat with you for the next few hours, texting Jungkook to head home to his family, apologizing profusely for keeping him away on Christmas. You didn’t talk much, just offering sweet smiles when Yoongi would check to make sure you were doing ok. Like the nurse told Yoongi earlier, your doctor came in to take you for a brain scan and to run some other tests. Yoongi waited patiently in your room while you were being tested. 
When you returned, the doctor checked your vitals again, before letting you both know that he would be back in the morning to run some more tests, and give you the results of the brain scan. You both thanked him quietly before he wished you a merry Christmas, and took his leave.
Alone again with Yoongi, you felt a calm aura wash over you. “Thank you,” you whispered quietly into the dim room, “I’m sorry I ruined your Christmas,” you said with a slight frown.
“You didn’t ruin anything,” Yoongi assured, walking over to your bed and sitting next to you, “There is no place I’d rather be than by your side.”
Just as Yoongi finished his sentence, a violent buzzing resounded through the room. Yoongi’s eyes went wide as dinner plates as he realized your phone was still in his pocket. Hesitantly, he brought it out of the back of his jeans and showed you what was on the screen.
You flinched when you saw your cell phone. You knew you’d have to confront Namjoon and Yoongi about what happened sooner or later, but you were really hoping it would be the latter. You reached out for your phone, pushing the red decline button. Yoongi looked at you with an unreadable expression as you let the phone fall to your side onto the bed.
You sighed, looking at Yoongi, lips pursed. “Go ahead, you can ask me,” you offered, rubbing a hand down the front of your face.
Yoongi looked sheepishly at you. Of course he wanted to know what happened, but he didn’t want to push you to tell him or to relive whatever it was that pushed you that far in the first place. His curiosity got the better of him as he chewed his lip raw. “What happened?” His voice was barely a whisper, the beeping of the equipment in the hospital room almost enough to mask it. 
“Namjoon was calling me, I guess, while we were having dinner last night,” you wrung your hands together, trying to warm them up in the frigid temperature in your room, “I didn’t think to check my phone until you walked me home.” Yoongi reached over to stop your ministrations, cupping both your hands in his and blowing warm breath between them. You smiled at his thoughtful actions before continuing, “He was drunk. I don’t think he even realized what he said, but - but he left me a voicemail,” your voice was getting quieter the further into your story you got, “he said he wished I had succeeded three years ago, that he wished he never saved me.”
Yoongi was seething. He had his suspicions that this was your brother’s doing, but he didn’t expect those words to fall from your mouth. He gripped your hands just a little bit together as he brought the back of them to his lips, forcing his emotions down. Yoongi bit down hard on his tongue to stop him from saying exactly what he wanted to say about your idiot brother, but he knew that you were still hurting, still recovering, and didn’t want to upset you or hurt you even further.
“YN - I’m sure he was just drunk,” he starts, before he realizes that the man who calls himself your brother has no excuse for what he said to you, “that does not, and I mean does not, give him an excuse to treat you like that, but you literally haven’t heard from him in what? Three years?” You nodded your head, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. Yoongi gently reached up and thumbed at your bottom lip, pulling it away from the assault of your teeth before continuing, “He’s called you over a hundred times since last night. I haven’t answered, he doesn’t know you’re here, as far as I know. If you don’t want to tell him, don’t want to talk to him, I will support you, but I also think it would be good for you to get closure from him. Even if that means cutting him out of your life.” 
You nodded slowly, taking in Yoongi’s words. You knew he was right. You didn’t want to go through life wondering if Namjoon really meant what he said, if he was sorry, if he still thinks about you. You decided to table the conversation for now. It’s not doing anyone any good stressing yourself out about it. First, you needed to have a serious conversation with Yoongi about what exactly was happening between the two of you. You didn’t want there to be any questions when you went home from the hospital, wanted to feel secure in the choices you were about to make.
“Yoongi?”
“Yes, darling.” Yoongi said cooly, still holding onto your hands. He was doing that a lot today and you definitely weren’t complaining. 
“What is this?” You pulled one of your hands gently from Yoongi’s grasp and gestured half-assedly between you both. 
Yoongi’s brow furrowed momentarily before smoothing out and giving you a soft look. “YN - I - I don’t know what you’re expecting,” here it goes, you thought, he’s going to reject you. He’s going to say that this was all too much and he’s only here because he feels guilty. “I really didn’t want to do this here, while you’re lying in a hospital bed,” he scoffs lightly, shaking his head. Your heart drops. Is he really going to leave like this? You bite both your lips between your teeth, looking away to brace yourself for what he’s about to say. “YN I think I’m in love with you.”
Your head shoots up so quickly you think you might have whiplash. Yoongi giggles quietly at your reaction, gummy smile on display for a moment. “W-what?” Is the dignified answer you sputter out. 
This time, Yoongi is looking you directly in the eyes when he says, “I love you, YN. I know it’s only been a few days, but I already can’t imagine my life without you in it. I don’t care what hurdles we have to get past, I don’t care about all your baggage that you seem to think will scare me away, and I definitely don’t care that you seem to think you aren’t worth it. I know you’re worth it, you’re worth all of it.” Before you could form a response, Yoongi is standing up from his chair, wrapping both arms around your small frame and bending a little awkwardly to pull you up slightly to a sitting position. A beat passes before you realize he’s trying to hug you, and you quickly wrap your arms around his neck the best you can while  attached to all these wires and tubes. Yoongi nuzzled into your hair, which you think is probably a horrid mess right now, and whispered close to your ear, “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? I thought I lost you forever, that’s the biggest absence I could’ve felt from you. It made me realize I never want to let you go again.” He pulls back slightly, placing the softest kiss to your cheek before placing his forehead against yours.
You looked up at him through your now wet lashes, “I love you too, Yoongi. You make me feel safe. Something I haven’t felt in a really long time.” You choked out the last couple of words, tears making their way down your cheeks now. “I’m so sorry I put you through this, I’m so sorry I broke my promise.” You were sobbing again. 
“Shh,” he murmured against your hair, “It’s okay, love. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters. Whatever we need to work through, we will, together.”
“Thank you Yoongi, I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, YN. I just want to see you continue living your life.”
You sniffled, pulling back from Yoongi to give him a smile. “Merry Christmas, Yoongi.”
“Merry Christmas, my love.”
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You were stuck in the hospital for the mandatory three days after Christmas. During that time they ran multiple tests to make sure you didn’t have any lasting damage and you met with two different therapists. Sadly, you knew these procedures, as this wasn’t the first time you went through them. The second therapist you met with suggested putting you on a different antidepressant from the ones you had before, along with an anti-anxiety medication for at least the next few weeks. 
Yoongi stayed with you almost the entire time (aside from going home to check on Mochi and to shower), sleeping on two chairs pushed together, despite you inviting him up on your bed multiple times. He refused on the grounds of ‘I don’t want my first time in bed with you to be at the hospital’, to which you rolled your eyes at. Yoongi had really lightened your mood over the last few days, mixed with the new medications, you were almost feeling back to your ‘normal’ self, or at least as normal as you could be. 
You and Yoongi had decided that it would be best if you took at least one more week off work to recover, and Yoongi was quick to offer to stay with you at your cabin, or have you come stay with him at his, enticing you with Mochi cuddles. Eventually you decided on alternating between the two houses to give you a little reprieve from the memories your cabin will inevitably bring back. Neither of you were dim, you both knew being at the hospital was like a vacation away from your demons. When you stepped foot back in that house, you would likely struggle, at least a little bit more than you are here. 
Being on bed rest for a few days, on top of having your stomach pumped, really did a number on your muscles. You were consistently sore, and were almost too weak to walk on your own. Yoongi was quite the gentleman, massaging your calves when they hurt and walking you to the bathroom when you needed it. You felt lucky to be loved by him. You wanted to be able to show him just how much you loved him in return, and made a mental note to do just that once you recovered. 
On your second night in the hospital, a man by the name of Jungkook came by to check on you and Yoongi. He introduced himself as Yoongi’s best friend and you learned he was married with a baby due in just a few weeks. He was kind and handsome, just like Yoongi. You also found out that he had stayed with Yoongi at the hospital, on Christmas, while you were unconscious. You profusely apologized to the man, getting into a bowing battle while you were sitting on the edge of your bed, while he profusely refused your apologies. You decided you really liked Jungkook and his aloof personality and were glad Yoongi had such a great friend to be there for him. 
You were finally being released on December 28th in Yoongi’s care, something he wasn’t going to take lightly. The hospital made him sign paperwork saying he would keep an eye on you. While it made you feel slightly like a teenager again, you couldn’t deny that you probably needed it, and were just thankful it was Yoongi who would be the one watching over you. 
It was nearing 7 in the evening, well past dark, when Yoongi wheeled your wheelchair, another accommodation you tried to fight, out to his car. He helped you into the front seat, making sure you were comfortable before strapping you in with the seatbelt, closing the door, and jogging to the driver’s side. 
Yoongi clapped his hands together and rubbed them furiously together for a moment. “It’s freezing! Let’s get you home, baby!” He flashed you a gummy smile before starting the engine. 
You giggled at his antics and felt your cheeks heat at the pet name, covering your mouth with your hand. You were feeling pretty good on the drive home, Yoongi looking over at you every couple of minutes to make sure you were alright. You were curled up in the passenger seat watching the trees zoom past the window. Sometime during the drive, Yoongi reached over across the center console and placed his large hand over your knee. You glanced over at him, softly smiling at eachother, and placed your much smaller hand over his, intertwining your fingers together. 
The drive wasn’t long, maybe twenty minutes, but in those twenty minutes, you grew excited. Excited to spend time with Yoongi tonight, to lay with each other in your bed, excited for the future for what felt like the first time since your parents passed. You pictured your parents for a moment, a fleeting thought, what would they think of Yoongi? You wish they could’ve met him. You’re sure your mom would have loved his kind nature and his ability to cook. Your dad would have liked that he had good manners and was always a gentleman. You turned your head to look out the window, smiling sadly to yourself. You were sad they were gone, of course, but you were also happy in this moment and you didn’t want your memories to subtract from that. 
“Almost home, love.” Yoongi said, squeezing your knee. You didn’t realize you had just about dozed off, head leaning on the window. You pulled your hand away from Yoongi’s to rub at your eyes briefly. “Uh, YN?” You looked up at Yoongi in confusion, his tone almost panicked. “Whose car is that?”
Your eyes immediately found the car in question, a sleek, black sports car, parked behind your crappy silver sedan in the cabin’s driveway. It only took you a moment to realize by the license plate ‘RKIVE’ that it was your brother’s. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat as Yoongi turned into his own driveway. He could tell by your reaction, you didn’t want to see the owner of that car. 
“My brother.”
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It took you a good thirty minutes of pacing Yoongi’s kitchen and countless encouragements from the man himself to build up the courage to go over to your cabin. You had so many questions; why was Namjoon here? How long had he been there? How did he get in? You know you had the locks changed in the last three years since the incident. What confused you the most though, is the fact that his calls completely stopped after Christmas day. You had assumed that he had given up trying to contact you and went on with his life, but apparently he had different plans.
“Are you ready baby?” Yoongi asked you from the kitchen, standing up from pouring food into Mochi’s bowl.
“I really don’t know, Yoongi,” you twisted your wrist in your other hand, a nervous habit, “What if he’s here to yell at me again?”
“YN, I really don’t think he blew your phone up for a day and then drove all the way out here to yell at you,” Yoongi started, rubbing his hands up and down your arms, “and besides, if he is here to yell at you, I’ll be right by your side the entire time. You know I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, right?”
You nodded, letting out a deep sigh. Yoongi smiled at you and pinched your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, brought your face up to meet his gently, and placed a kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fell shut and you felt all the tension in your body flow out of your body at once. This man really did have an effect on you, and you were thankful for that in this moment. “It’s now or never, I guess.”
You and Yoongi walked hand in hand over to your cabin, standing at your front door, you hesitated before unlocking it. Yoongi squeezed your hand as a silent gesture to let you know he was with you. You took a few cautious steps into the house, silently looking around the open living room. No sign of Joon yet.
As you stepped around the corner, you could hear faint rustling coming from one of the rooms. “Joon?” You called gently, probably not quite loud enough for anyone to hear. “Namjoon?” You called a little louder. The rustling stopped. Now you heard quick footsteps, loud clumsy footsteps that you could never mistake, heading in your direction. You stood half in front of Yoongi, hands still intertwined behind your back waiting for your brother to appear. 
Namjoon stumbled out of his old bedroom, looking not at all what you expected him to look like. He was wearing an old pair of black sweatpants and a faded t-shirt that you think once had your father’s college alumni printed on it. His light purple hair, that’s new, was disheveled and sticking out in every direction, looking like he had run his hand through it at least a thousand times. But what shocked you the most, was the pure panic in his eyes. As soon as his eyes met yours, the panic seemed to dissipate, though it didn’t completely disappear. He rushed over to you, placing both his large hands on the tops of your shoulders, startling you and causing you to bump into Yoongi behind you.
“YN - Oh my god, YN,” Namjoon started to sob, head dropping down onto your shoulder. You felt Yoongi let go of your hand and placed both of his hands on your waist, holding you steady against his chest. “Thank God you’re ok! Where the hell have you been!?” Namjoon was full on crying into your shoulder now, tears staining Yoongi’s sweatshirt he had let you wear home from the hospital. You were still pretty weak on your legs from the bedrest, so you started to wobble a bit from the pressure Namjoon was putting on you.
You started to bring your hand up to lightly push back from Namjoon to maintain your balance, bracing yourself against Yoongi. Namjoon looked at you with confusion in his eyes, before he glanced up seemingly noticing the blonde man behind you for the first time.
“Who the hell are you?” Namjoon demanded, though he didn’t sound very threatening with tears flowing down his face. 
“I-” Yoongi started, but you cut him off, feeling suddenly defensive of the man you love. 
“My boyfriend,” you started, causing Yoongi’s eyes to widen slightly. It’s not that he didn’t like the new title, he was just shocked, hearing it come from you. “Why are you here, Joon?”
“Boy- boyfriend? YN what is going on? Is that where you’ve been? Sleeping around with him?” You furrowed your brow, mouth dropping open. Was he drunk? 
“Are you fucking drunk again Namjoon?!” You started to raise your voice, attempting to pull away from Yoongi, but he wasn’t letting you move any further, worried for both you and your brother at this point. He’s never heard you raise your voice, and if he’s being honest, it’s rather intimidating.
“Yeah YN, I am! I drove 3 hours down to this God forsaken cabin last night to find my baby sister missing, nowhere to be found and a bottle of empty pills in the bathroom. How the fuck do you think I was supposed to deal with this?!” He was near screaming at this point. 
You raised your finger up and pointed it right at Namjoon’s chest, “Oh, I don’t know Joon, maybe you could have actually gone out and looked for me instead of sitting on your ass and drinking yourself to death!” Yoongi had a tight grip on your upper arms at this point, making sure you didn’t get physical. He was pretty sure your brother wouldn’t hurt you, but he couldn’t say the same for you. 
Namjoon scoffed at you, taking a small step forward so your finger pushed into his firm chest. “I thought you were dead YN! I was fucking terrified I was going to find you out in that God damned lake, frozen to death. I- I-” he stuttered out, fresh tears building up at his lashes and anger dissipating, “I was scared. I didn’t want to find you out there again.”
Though Namjoon’s anger seemed to be lessening, yours was only building. “Scared? You were scared!? Why!? Because if you found me out there, you knew it would have been your fault?” You spit the last words at your brother, you knew it was low, but he literally cut you out of his life, what did you owe him?
You watched as Namjoon let the tears fall down his cheeks, biting at his trembling lower lip. “I’m so - so sorry YN,” he whimpered, actually whimpered. You don’t think you’ve ever heard your beast of an older brother whimper. “You have to under- understand that I didn’t mean what I said the other night. I listened to the voicemail a few hours after I left it and I- I was so worried when you weren’t answering your phone. I wanted to apologize, take it back, but I was scared it was too late. I even called the police the day after to ask if they- th-” he didn’t need to finish that sentence, you knew what he meant. If they found your body. You heard Yoongi inhale a sharp breath behind you, obviously affected by what Namjoon was trying to say. You nearly forgot he has been a witness to this whole scene. “They said they didn’t find… anyone. I tried to let it go, tried to let you ignore me, but I couldn’t. I had to come down here and see for myself.”
“Well, here I am. You can leave. Now,” you spat, turning around and walking towards your kitchen. “C’mon Yoongi,” you mumbled, taking Yoongi’s hand in yours. 
“YN - wait,” it wasn’t your brother’s voice that you expected to hear, but Yoongi’s. You stopped and turned around, staring at him like he grew two heads. He took a step closer to you, “You need closure, YN,” he whispered softly down at you. Your eyes softened at his ability to stay so calm and level headed throughout this entire ordeal. You blinked up at him a few times before nodding your head. 
Yoongi didn’t want to put you in a position you were uncomfortable with and he knew you didn’t want to look at your brother. Hell, he wanted to beat the shit out of Namjoon himself, but he knew you needed this. 
You took a few steps past Yoongi, stopping a few feet in front of your brother. Namjoon, who had previously been staring a hole through the carpet, met your eyes with his glistening ones. Yes, he said horrible things to you. Yes, he has treated you as if you don’t exist for the past three years. But, he’s still your brother, right? He’s quite literally the only family you have left in this world. With both your parents gone, grandparents long dead, and no other siblings, Joon was really all you had. Even though he may not deserve your forgiveness, don’t you owe it to yourself to try and patch up your relationship?
“Joon…” you trailed off, looking up at the ceiling attempting to stop the rush of tears stinging the backs of your eyes. You weren’t sure if you should tell him what happened over the last few days, since you last heard his voice. He was the reason you were in the hospital in the first place, but did you really want to make him feel the guilt for putting you there? You weren’t so sure. Your caring nature yelling at you internally to lie, to sugar coat things to spare your brother the pain. Before you could fight your internal battle, it was Namjoon who spoke first. 
“Can we talk about this, a little more privately maybe?” He questioned, his sour tone catching Yoongi’s attention. Yoongi has tried to stay quiet through all of this, hoping to let you hash it out on your own. It wasn’t his place, after all. He didn’t know your brother, and he believed you could handle yourself. But he wasn’t about to leave you alone with Namjoon, and he needed to make sure the other man knew that.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Yoongi started, folding his arms across his chest defensively, “She is in my care, after all.” He really didn’t want to play that card, unsure of how you would feel about it, but he really, really, needed Namjoon to know that he wasn’t going to budge. 
“What the hell do you mean she’s in ‘your care’?” Namjoon narrowed his eyes, shooting a questioning glare your way.
You let out a heavy sigh, briefly turning your body to give Yoongi an apologetic look. “I’ve been in the hospital, Joon. They only released me on the condition he stays with me, or vice versa.”
“Wh-what do you mean you were in the hospital?” His previous distraught look coming back, “Why didn’t you call me? I’m your family I should be the one-”
You cut him off before he could finish that statement, “Taking care of me? Namjoon, you left me at a hospital three years ago and haven’t so much as said ‘hello’ to me since then. What makes you think you have any right to even assume I would want you to care for me?” Namjoon at least had the decency to look ashamed of himself for the first time tonight.
“YN, I- I called that night, on Christmas Eve, to apologize,” he looked behind you at a glaring Yoongi before looking back at your equally enraged face, “I know, I know! I definitely didn’t do that in the voicemail that I left, ok I know,” he put his hand up as if to pacify you, “I had been drinking and I was thinking about you - in fact I - I think about you all the time. I’ve just been a terrified asshole who was too afraid you’d reject my apology. I had the courage that night and tried calling you a few times. When you didn’t answer I figured you hated me, and it set me off. I- I’m s-so sorry YN I never, ever meant to hurt you like this. I was so scared of losing you, I tried to distance myself from you, so if I did l-lose you, it wouldn’t hurt as bad as when we lost mom and dad.”
Your eyes softened minutely at his words, the fire in your eyes fleeting, but still there. “You’re fucking right you’ve been an asshole Joon,” you scoffed, “did you ever think about what I needed? How I felt? You distancing yourself from me was like having my entire family ripped away from me. You were all I had left.” Your last words were whispered, but your brother heard them loud and clear. 
Namjoon's long legs only needed two steps in your direction before you were chest to chest with him, his strong arms wrapping around your shoulders. To say you were shocked was an understatement. Regardless of how much you wanted to hate your brother right now, you couldn’t deny that it felt nice to be in his familiar arms again. He hasn’t hugged you in years, and you’re feeling lightheaded from all the physical contact you’ve had in the last week. It took you a moment to respond to his hug, slowly wrapping your weak arms around his middle. He could feel the way your small frame was beginning to shake, presuming you were weak from being in the hospital. It took him a second to realize you were sobbing in his arms.
Namjoon nuzzled his face into the side of your head, having to bend a significant amount to account for the height difference, and croaked, “I’m sorry YN. I’m so, so sorry. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please, please let me be here for you. Let me be your shoulder to cry on, be the one you confide in again.” He sniffled, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. “I’ll stay by your side, I won't leave you, I promise.”
“I’ve missed you so much,” you blubbered out, soaking Namjoon’s shirt with your tears. He ran a hand soothingly up and down your back as he let his own silent tears fall. 
“I’ve missed you too baby sister.”
Yoongi had been a silent observer, staying back, allowing you both to have the space you needed to sort this out. At this point, he wore a small smile, arms still crossed over one another. He decided it was time for him to leave you both alone for a moment to catch up and talk things through a little further. He quietly slipped out of the living room with a plan to make some hot tea for you, briefly meeting Namjoon’s eyes which were silently thanking the older man.Yoongi gave a quick nod and turned to walk away. 
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You and your brother spent the next few hours talking about everything on your living room couches. He stayed close, but not too close, to give you your own space, which you appreciated. Yoongi came back after a little while, hot tea and mugs in tow. He sat by your side, offering you silent support with a hand on your knee or shoulder. You were thankful for his presence. Even though you and Namjoon had talked some things out, you still felt a little awkward with him here. 
You told Namjoon about your job and how you haven’t left it yet, despite hating your boss for so long. You talked about your life in Busan and how you moved into a new apartment a couple years back. He told you about his studio, Rkive, in Seoul and how he’s been working with some pretty big names recently. He was hopeful that one of his songs was up for Song of the Year for some award show next month. You expressed how proud you were of him, finally having the chance to tell him. Most importantly, you talked about your brief stay at the rehab facility three years ago and your most recent stay in the hospital here. You both cried when you talked about your second attempt at your life. You hugged each other and Namjoon apologized profusely to you, which you graciously accepted.
After you had spilled all your collective tears and put everything out on the table, Namjoon turned his attention to the other man in the room, who up until this point, had been completely quiet. “Yoongi?”
Yoongi was taken by surprise at the sound of his name coming from Namjoon’s mouth. Eyebrows raised, he looked at the purple haired man sitting across from him, “Hmm?” 
“I wanted to thank you,” Namjoon said apologetically, “I don’t know you, but you saved my sister. She also seems to trust you,” he gave you a quick smile, showing off one of his dimples, “so I guess I should, too. But really, man, thank you. I don’t know what I would do if I lost her.” His gaze fell to his hands that were clasped in his lap.
Yoongi sat up a little straighter on the couch before answering, “You don’t have to thank me. I share the sentiment, I don’t know what I would do without her.” He smiled down at your, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, making you give him a small smile in return. “I really love her,” he said lovingly. He was talking to Namjoon, but he was staring into your eyes, getting lost in them for a moment. Namjoon noticed this, and couldn’t hide the smile that was spreading across his own face. That’s when he knew you were in good hands. He trusted Yoongi.
The next hour passed by quickly, sharing more stories amongst the three of you. Eventually Namjoon told you he had to get going, needing to be back in Seoul for a meeting tomorrow morning. He offered to cancel and stay the night, but you and Yoongi both told him he should go, and not to worry about you. If Yoongi wasn’t here, Namjoon would have definitely canceled, but he felt good about leaving you with him 
You wrapped your arms around your brother's neck, reaching up on your tiptoes. Namjoons arms wrapped around your middle, lifting you up slightly as he whispered in your ear, “I love you baby sister, please don’t forget that. I never stopped loving you.”
“I love you too Joon, don’t be a stranger.”
“I won't, trust me,” he let out a short laugh, devoid of any humor before setting you back down on your feet. He turned to look at Yoongi, before reaching out to shake his hand. Yoongi walked the short distance to grab his hand, only to be pulled into Namjoon’s frame for a hug. “Thank you again, Yoongi. I wish I could stay longer to get to know you a little better, but it was really nice to meet you.”
“I’m sure there will be more opportunities for us to meet,” Yoongi said, with an almost demanding tone. Namjoon took the warning for what it was, leaving you a little oblivious next to them. “Drive safe.”
Namjoon pulled away, giving you one final smile, before turning around to take his leave. You stood in the doorway, watching your brother start his car and pull out of the driveway. You knew you had plenty more unresolved issues and a lot more to discuss, but for now, your chest felt lighter at the aspect of having your brother back in your life. You were a little sad that he had to leave so quickly, when you felt like you just got him back, but were hopeful you would see him soon. 
Yoongi could feel your mood shift slightly, moving to wrap his arms around you from behind in a comforting back hug. You closed and locked the front door before turning around in his grasp. “I’m sorry,” you murmured into his chest. You didn’t see it, but Yoongi looked down at you in confusion.
“Why are you sorry, love?” He inquired, rubbing a hand up and down your spine.
“I’m sorry you had to sit here all night and listen to me cry,” you began, “I’m also sorry you had to meet my brother under such circumstances.”
“Don’t be sorry, YN. I’m so happy you were able to see Namjoon again and talk about things. I know it can be hard to talk about these things, and I know it must be hard to let him back into your life suddenly, but I know it will be helpful to you in the long run. I only want you to be happy, love.”
You look up at Yoongi in complete awe. How was this man in love with you? A broken shell of a person, with her weights worth of baggage. What did you do to deserve him? The literal epitome of perfection.
“Don’t thank me,” Yoongi lightly scolded, a smile on his face. “I can practically hear your thoughts right now.”
You scoffed, mock offended, putting your hands on his chest to playfully pull away. He wasn’t having it though, and pulled you back into him, rocking you both back and forth gently. “Oh no you don’t, you’re mine tonight,” you know he meant it in a playful way, but it did things to you that you didn’t want to admit to yourself right now, “I told you I wanted to lay with you properly and I’ve been waiting way too long to finally do that.”
“Let’s go to bed,” you began, taking Yoongi’s hand in your, walking down the hallway towards your bedroom. 
“Sounds like a great plan,” Yoongi said, following after you obediently. 
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After you and Yoongi both got changed (Yoongi having to run home to grab some things, and also grab a very unamused cat), you kneeled in the corner of your room playing with Mochi, who lay in his cat bed that Yoongi also brought over. 
Yoongi was laying back on your pink sheets, arms crossed behind his head, watching you in amusement. “He really likes you, you know.”
You looked over your shoulder with a toothy smile on your face. Yoongi very nearly melted into your mattress at the sight. “You think so?” Yoongi nodded as you turned back around to face the Calico in front of you. “Well, I really like him too,” you cooed at the cat in question as he arched his back into your pets. After you had your fill of cuddles, you slowly stood up from your crouching position, causing Mochi to mewl.
Yoongi let out a loud laugh from his spot on your bed. “Yeah, I would say he definitely likes you.”
You laughed along with Yoongi while turning the lamp on your side table off. Yoongi scooted over on the bed to make room for you, pulling the pink and white comforter back. You gladly took your spot on the bed, rolling on your side to face Yoongi. To say you were nervous was a big understatement. “I’m gonna miss him when I go back to Busan,” you whispered sadly. 
“I’m glad my cat made such a big impact on you,” Yoongi said dryly, deadpanning in your direction.
You giggled quietly and shushed him. “Of course I’m gonna miss you too, Yoongi. I thought that was a given.”
“I mean, it’s still nice to hear,” he gently smiled down at you before draping one arm over your side, placing his warm hand on your lower back. He nudged your back a little, signaling you to move closer, to which you obliged. “You know, you don’t have to go back,” Yoongi whispered, hopefully. 
“Yoongs, I have to,” Yoongi smiled his signature gummy smile at the nickname making you stifle a laugh, “my job is there, I have an apartment there. I can’t just leave.”
“Is this cabin paid off?” Yoongi asked abruptly, before you could continue making excuses.
“Yes…” you trailed off hesitantly. 
“Then you could leave your lease in Busan, and move to the cabin. I know you love your job, but there is an animal shelter here. It’s where I got Mochi from,” the cat meowed softly in the corner, making you smile again, “I could put in a good word for you.”
Yoongi was so thoughtful. I definitely don’t deserve this man, you thought to yourself. Yoongi chuckled and raised his hand to brush a strand of hair over your shoulder. “Did I just say that outloud?” You asked, mortified for Yoongi’s answer.
He just nodded, still giggling. “YN you deserve the world, and I will work every day to make sure you believe that.” 
Your cheeks were hot, but your heart was full at his words. This beautiful man in front of you wanted to give you the world, wanted to make sure you never wanted for more in your life. Who were you to turn down such an offer? What did you have to lose anyways? A shitty paycheck and an even shitter apartment. That’s what.
“Okay.” You state simply.
“Okay?” Yoongi perked up, lifting his head a bit to stare at you. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight shining through your window that you could see the way his eyes lit up at your words. You smiled a bright smile at him, nodding your head aggressively. “Do you mean that?” Now he was sporting a smile to match your own.
“Yes, Yoongi. I’ll do it. I want to do it. I’m ready.” You smiled, because you were. You don’t think you’ve ever spoken truer words. You were ready. Ready to put Busan behind you, ready to start a new life with Yoongi. 
“I love you YN,” Yoongi said seriously, searching your eyes for any bit of hesitance, to which he found none, “I mean it, love.” He looked down to your pink lips, and back up at your eyes. 
Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling of butterflies suffocating your lungs was a good one for once. You nibbled on your bottom lip and exhaled shakily. Yoongi grunted, a sound you realized you found incredibly sexy and wanted to commit to memory for a rainy day. He was staring at you intensely, silently asking for permission, which you granted with a quick nod of your head.
Yoongi’s lips crashed onto yours with an intensity you’ve never felt before. The flutter in your chest only increased as his soft lips moved against yours. All you could feel, taste, smell, was Yoongi. You inhaled his citrus-y scent, letting it surround you and he brought his free hand up to your burning cheek while his other caressed your side gently. He tasted better than you could have ever imagined, a little minty, and you were immediately hooked. His kiss was like the nicotine you craved from your cigarettes, your new addiction. Your lips moved together synchronously for a few minutes before both of your lungs burned for oxygen and you reluctantly pulled away. 
Yoongi held your face in his hands like fragile China, reveling in this moment here with you, your face illuminated by the moon shining through your window. He saw galaxies in your lust filled eyes, the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.
“Thank you, YN,” Yoongi whispered breathlessly, mere centimeters from your lips.
“For what?” You asked, just as breathless, chest heaving.
“For giving me one more day.”
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© aliendes | copyright 2020
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nelvana · 4 years ago
Text
In which the human is transformed (2021)
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Original Chapter: In which the human is transformed
    “H-Hey, are you alright?”
    “Yeah… I think so…”
    “That’s good, I think we’re almost ther- Woah! Hold on!”
    “I… I can’t!”
      It’s calm. A cool breeze brushes over the land, rustling the short grass growing along the forest floor.
    An unconscious cubone laid on the ground, only the slight movement from their chest up and down as they breathed showing that they were alive. That slight movement was a reassuring sight to the torchic that had stumbled upon the scene.
    Keahi had not expected to find anyone out here like this. Sure, there had been an earthquake out here in Tiny Woods, and already she had even heard that a new mystery dungeon had appeared with it, but it was strange to find someone just laying on the ground. Especially a cubone; there weren’t many cubone in the area, at least not any that she had heard about.
    “H-Hey, are you alright?” she called out, hurrying over to the cubone’s side.
    No response. At the very least, Keahi could now confirm that the cubone was still breathing, and that she hadn’t just been imagining it. Carefully, she reached out a wing to poke at the cubone to see if that would get more of a reaction, but still got nothing. She frowned, worry continuing to creep through her veins, but she wasn’t going to go about yelling or shaking this poor stranger.
    At least, not without checking them for injuries first.
    A quick look over told Keahi that, surprisingly, the cubone only seemed to be suffering a few cuts. The cuts themselves were unsurprising, it was clear from the surrounding broken branches and the hole in the canopy above that the cubone had fallen from the sky to arrive in this place. What was surprising was that that seemed to be it. Just some cuts. Perhaps there were some bruises that Keahi couldn’t see, but with a fall far enough to break all those branches… Keahi would have expected worse.
    She couldn’t help but wonder how the cubone had gotten here; it wasn’t exactly common for ground-types to be up in the air. Had some flying-type pokemon been carrying them and then dropped them? If that was the case, where was that pokemon now? None of the cuts appeared to have come from any sort of struggle…
    No theory Keahi could come up with seemed to quite add up; she would just have to ask the cubone whenever they woke up.
    Another breeze rolled by. Keahi shook out her ruffled feathers, and then jolted slightly as she noticed the cubone stirring awake.
    “Oh! You’re finally waking up!” she exclaimed, relieved.
    Blue eyes blinked open and snapped to look up at Keahi. Panic seemed to take hold of them as the cubone scrambled to their feet, moving backwards away from the torchic and shifting into a more defensive position, tense and ready to move. Keahi jumped at the sudden movement, taking a couple steps back herself.
    “Woah, relax! It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you,” Keahi assured them, crouching down slightly to make herself look smaller in hopes of calming the cubone.
    This didn’t appear to have much of an effect. The cubone kept her eyes trained on Keahi, fingers flexing as if searching for something to grab onto. Slowly, they allowed their eyes to move away from the torchic as they scanned their surroundings, and then looked down at themself. Their brows furrowed slightly as they stared down at their hands, poking one of their arms with an air of confusion. They took another step back, stumbling over their tail a bit and then giving it a strange look, as if their body was still taking a moment to wake up.
    Keahi silently watched; she assumed they were checking themselves for any injuries. Eventually the cubone’s gaze turned back to stare intensely at the torchic, still tense and now almost shaky too.
    “I’m not going to hurt you,” she repeated, now that the cubone’s attention was back on her. “My name is Keahi. What’s your name?”
    The cubone paused, taking in deep breaths and not moving her gaze away from Keahi. She almost didn’t expect them to say anything, but eventually, they responded.
    “…Nelvana.”
    Nelvana still didn’t visibly relax at all, but Keahi considered the willingness to even provide short answers a win for now.
    “Are you okay?” Keahi asked, trying her luck at asking another question. “It, uh, looks like you fell from a pretty high height.” Ask about the how and why later, just get her calmed down.
    It took another moment, but Nelvana tore their eyes away from Keahi again to re-examine her surroundings. This time, she let her gaze linger on the fallen branches around the clearing and the displaced foliage above them both.
    “Yeah… I’m fine,” Nelvana mumbled, sounding slightly dazed despite her answer.
    Keahi wasn’t entirely sure if she believed her, but she kept that to herself for now. She didn’t need to pressure Nelvana for an answer when she could already tell that the cubone was still a bit nervous. Keahi considered whether or not to go right to asking how Nelvana got here, but to her surprise, Nelvana spoke up again first.
    “Where… Where are we?” she questioned, turning her head to make eye contact with Keahi again.
    “Tiny Woods!” Keahi answered.
    Nelvana only blinked blankly back at her, and Keahi’s smile faded.
    “Are you lost…?” she asked, eventually earning a slow nod in response. “Well, I know my way around the area pretty well, I could help you find your way back to… wherever you’re headed. Or wherever you’re from. Is there a place you’re looking for in particular?”
    Keahi waited patiently for an answer, but none came. She could see Nelvana’s mouth open, but no sound came out before she closed it again. If anything, this seemed to make the lost cubone more uncomfortable, as she moved from a previously battle-ready position to something simply more anxious, crossing her arms and gripping them tightly as she shifted her weight awkwardly in place.
    “…Nelvana?” Keahi eventually prompted, hesitantly taking a step towards her and reaching a wing out comfortingly, despite still not being anywhere near close enough to actually touch the cubone.
    “I… I don’t…”
    “You don’t have a place to go to?” Keahi guessed, but Nelvana only gave a stiff shrug to that, confusing Keahi even more. “What’s that supposed to mean? Do you not know? How do you…” She trailed off as a thought suddenly hit her. “Do you not remember?”
    “No, I don’t… I don’t remember any… I don’t…” Nelvana seemed to be at a loss for words, curling inwards on herself. She reached a hand up to hold her head, but only flinched as she touched the bone of her skull helmet. “I… don’t remember anything,” she said, scarcely a whisper.
    Keahi’s expression softened. “You have amnesia?” She was mildly surprised at the idea since cubone have a helmet to protect their heads, but perhaps the amnesia didn’t come from the fall, there could be more going on than what met the eye, but currently there was no way to get any answers about that; besides, right now focusing on calming Nelvana down was the first priority. “Well… you still remember your name at least, that’s something! Maybe… Do you remember anything else? Or even if not, I’m sure we can figure something out-“
    Her words were cut off as the sound of crying suddenly rang out in the forest. Nelvana stiffened again, concealing any signs of vulnerability as she moved herself back into her more battle-ready position and stared out towards the source of the noise. A butterfree flew out from within the woods towards the two, movements frantic as she fluttered about in a panic.
    “Oh, my baby! My poor baby!” she cried. “Somebody! Please! Help me!”
    Nelvana didn’t move, keeping her eyes trained on the distressed mother, but Keahi approached Butterfree without hesitation, though she still stayed close to Nelvana.
    “What happened?” Keahi asked.
    “It’s horrible! My Caterpie fell into a cavern! My poor baby!” Butterfree explained.
    “Why… Why can’t you go get them yourself?” Nelvana questioned under her breath, quiet enough that only Keahi picked it up.
    “A cavern?” Keahi repeated, choosing not to acknowledge the cubone’s question for the moment. “I heard there was a new mystery dungeon after that earthquake earlier, did it make a cavern?”
    “A huge fissure opened in the ground, and my Caterpie fell in! He’s too young to crawl out by himself! When I went to get my baby, pokemon suddenly attacked me!” Butterfree continued, pausing afterwards to gasp for breath between all her sobs and previous rushing about.
    “What? They attacked you?” Keahi gasped, “that definitely sounds like a mystery dungeon then!” she affirmed, glancing back at Nelvana, who gave a small nod of agreement.
    “I’m not strong enough to fight in a mystery dungeon!” Butterfree wailed, “please, I need help…”
    Butterfree’s words dissolved into incoherent mumbled words, beginning to flutter around in panicked circles again. Keahi frowned and glanced back at Nelvana again, who, while still tense, seemed to have loosened her stance now that it was clear that Butterfree was no foe. The cubone blinked back at the torchic, the skull helmet masking any facial expressions that Keahi could have gleaned for her feelings on the situation.
    “C’mon! Let’s go rescue him!” Keahi declared.
    Nelvana’s eyes widened, “wait, what?”
    “Someone’s gotta help him!” Keahi insisted, taking a few steps ahead and gesturing with a wing for Nelvana to follow. “Something bad could happen to him if he’s stuck in there for too long!”
    Internally determining that if Nelvana really didn’t want to come, she wouldn’t, Keahi hurried off in the direction that Butterfree had come from without another word. Nelvana exchanged a look out to where the torchic was going and to Butterfree, before letting out a sigh and moving to follow Keahi.
    “Oh, wait!” Butterfree called out before the cubone got too far.
    After a pause, Nelvana looked back to see why Butterfree had stopped her. Butterfree had landed onto the grass, reaching down to pick up a bone club that had been laying there, before flying back over towards the cubone and holding out the item to her. It was a long bone that appeared like it had been broken at one end, having that jagged end to it and then a bludgeoning end.
    “You almost left your club behind,” Butterfree told her.
    “Er, thank you…” Nelvana responded, accepting the item from Butterfree and looking it over in her hands, some of the tension seeming to fade away now that she was holding the weapon.
    “No, thank you for deciding to go help find my son. Please be careful out there,” Butterfree insisted.
    Nelvana stared at Butterfree for a couple moments before giving her a nod of acknowledgement and darting off to go after Keahi. She managed to catch up fairly quickly, especially as when the torchic heard her coming, she slowed down a bit to give the cubone the proper chance to join up with her.
    “I think I have an idea on where the dungeon could be,” Keahi told Nelvana as she approached, “follow me!” she continued before hurrying off again, this time with the cubone following right behind her.
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winterromanov · 5 years ago
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AU idea- college athlete Bucky and he’s really popular and all that but very sweet and he meets this girl who’s sweet and a little quiet in one of his classes and he just keeps trying to be around her, study with her, buy her coffee and she likes him but she’s just like.... why is this cute popular boy paying attention to me lol
pairing: bucky x reader (also SUPER tempted to do a part two of this, let me know if you’re interested)
You recognise the guy staring at you from across the table in your Russian lit tutorial. You recognise him because everyone knows Bucky Barnes, the football star, certified big name on campus and best friend of fellow football star Steve Rogers. He’s the guy that every girl on your corridor gossips about, the one all the professors love, the one who gets hundreds of likes on his Instagram pictures.
(You don’t follow him but you have to admit, you’ve scrolled through his feed a few times. Just to see what the fuss is all about, you know. And you know. Boy, you know.)
You’ve never actually interacted with him before because your circles aren’t the kind that usually interlink, but now you’re sat in a seminar on Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina, and Bucky Barnes is definitely staring at you.
When your eyes eventually flicker up from your laptop--just to double check you’re not making it all up, that he’s not looking at the much prettier girl next to you--he grins, pen between his teeth. Your cheeks involuntarily catch fire and you deliberately snap away. Because this is Bucky Barnes you’re talking about, who dated Natasha Romanoff in his freshman year before it all very publically...fell apart. Who could have literally any girl he wanted worshiping at his high-tops. Who would never look at a girl like you because, well. 
You’re you.
-
You’re trying to buy coffee in the campus shop next to the library when he actually speaks to you directly for the first time. Emphasis on the word trying, because you left your damn purse at home and Apple Pay is not being your friend and you can feel yourself getting more and more embarrassed the longer the cashier has to wait. You eventually resort to rummaging round your backpack for loose change in order to pay the poor guy, but an arm with a contactless debit card reaches out and beeps the payment through for you.
“I’ll get a latte to go, please, Mario.” 
“Of course. Anything for you, Mr Barnes.”
It’s Bucky Barnes. Of course it’s Bucky Barnes--only someone like him would take the time to know the server by name. He’s wearing his faded red Columbia jersery and a baseball cap. His grin is kinda crooked and yes, yes you know it’s one of the many reasons all the girls go wild for him.
“You didn’t have to do that,” you say, stepping aside so he can go to the front of the queue. He merely shrugs. “Here--let me pay you back, I know I’ve got a couple of dollars in here somewhere...”
He shakes his head as he taps his card once again, the server handing him his latte in a reusable mug with a wink. “Don’t worry about it. Honestly, your idea about interior monologue in Anna Karenina in Ivan’s class the other day actually inspired my paper, so I do owe you one.”
You blink, kinda dumbstruck at the thought of Bucky Barnes remembering any input you’d given in class. Or anyone remembering any input you’d given in class. “You liked my point?”
“Oh, yeah.” Bucky sips his coffee, grimacing slightly as the liquid burns his lips. “Tolstoy finding humour in death. It’s so dark and beautiful. All your points, actually--you see a lot in literature than I’ve never picked up on in a first reading.”
“I...Uh. Well. Thank you.” You’ve always been quite reserved in class, scared to say anything in case it’s stupid or outlandish and the other students laugh at you. In reality you know it’s you being paranoid, but old habits die hard. 
Bucky looks at his watch before hissing a profanity under his breath. “Gotta run. Cold War study group across campus in three minutes. Catch you later?”
He phrases it like a question rather than a generic add on, a necessity of politeness. His blue eyes look at you expectantly, actively waiting for you to reply.
(They’re so blue, his eyes. Blue like the sky in the summer back home, bright and cloudless and stared at from a meadow.)
“Yeah, of course! See you in class.” You raise your coffee cup sheepishly in his eyeline. “And thanks for the coffee.”
And like that he vanishes, bustling out the door and stepping purposefully in the opposite direction as the sun blazes on his back.
-
You see his backpack before you see him, slammed down on the bench next to you in the lecture hall. He sits down with a long exhale of breath, like he’s ran here--this time he’s dressed in sportswear so you assume he’s been to the gym. Veins ripple and flex up his ridiculously toned arms. Being a football hero probably does that to you.
“Crime and Punishment,” he says, instead of a greeting. “What did you think?”
You smile, spreading your hand across the heavily annotated and dog-eared copy you have in front of you. “Long, dark, often psychologically challenging, but ultimately an interesting perspective on nihilism. And you?”
“Oh.” He nods in faux seriousness. “I thought much the same. Reckon I’d like to go for a beer with Dostoevsky.”
“That would be an interesting encounter.”
Bucky rests his laptop and his copy of the book on the bench and looks as though he might say something else until the professor enters the room, hushing the hall to silence. When the lights dim so you can see the projector, you wonder if Bucky can hear how furiously your heart beats in your chest.
-
After than, some sort of unspoken agreement develops wherein every Russian literature class, his place is a spot next to you. You always seem to arrive first--he’s always rushing from somewhere--but he clocks you and instinctively walks over, sliding into a chair adjacent to your own. The conversation is usually the same. Always about the books.
You’re not sure what any of it means but you’ve somehow found a friend in the famous Bucky Barnes, and people start to notice.
“Since when have you and Bucky been so close?” Wanda Maximoff asks as you queue for the canteen lasagna, the flourescent bar lights doing nothing for the food presentation. “My brother is in your lit class and he says you two sit together a lot.”
You shrug, spooning lasagna onto your plate. “We just sit together.”
“You don’t just sit together with Bucky Barnes, (Y/N). That’s not a thing that happens.”
“Honestly, Wanda, we just talk about books.”
Wanda narrows her eyes, swiping her meal card at the end of the belt. “Sure, okay. I believe you. For now.”
She has to believe you, because you know what she’s insinuating. And when you look across the canteen and see Bucky laughing with Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson and his ex girlfriend Natasha Romanoff, you know this cute, handsome boy and his often insightful observations of Russian texts are so far out of your league that it’s kind of embarrassing.
-
so, (y/n). what did you think of the master and margarita?
i think pilate suffering for his sins for two thousand years is pretty rough tbh
but he deserves it?
i mean. probably. his suffering is necessary for the redemption arc
just what i was going to say. obviously.
see you tomorrow :)
-
“Do you want to come to a party?” 
Bucky asks you this as you come out of your seminar on Chekov’s Uncle Vanya and, admittedly, it kind of knocks you off guard. When you lamely blink back at him blankly, he decides to elaborate.
“It’s my friend Sam’s birthday. It’s just at our dorm--should be fun. Although we’re very competitive when it comes to beer pong, so beware.” His smile is wistful but he quickly comes back to earth, falling in step with you as you walk along the hall. “So what do you say? You interested?”
“You’re inviting me to a party?” you reply, as this is a very big step in your friendship. This is assuming he’d happily see you outside of class amongst his equally popular and attractive friends.
“Yeah, I think so,” he laughs bemusedly, pausing at the door that leads to the quad. He has his Cold War class across campus. “(Y/N), I’d really like you to come.”
You look at him and expect him to reveal this--him--as a joke, but he’s earnest and certain and honest, with an almost shy smile on his face. His eyes are hidden by his usual cap but you know the colour of blue so well by now. And not just because you’d zoomed in on his Facebook photo in a moment of ridiculous late-night longing.
(You follow him on Instagram now, too, but only because he followed you first. You were still too uncertain to initiate it, worried that he’d ignore you.)
“Okay,” you say, swallowing nervously. Wondering if this might be a mistake. That you’d turn up and no-one there would like you. “Who else will be there?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll introduce you.” He pauses, chewing his lip for a second, before gesturing at the door. “I’ve got class, so I’ll...I’ll see you later.”
Your hands tighten round the straps of your backpack. “See you later, Bucky.”
-
Bucky shares a floor with Sam Wilson and Steve Rogers at a block about a ten minute walk from your own, and you use the walk in the chill New York air to calm your jangling nerves. You’re wearing your favourite navy blue dress and have braided your hair and made an effort with your makeup--and you’re not totally sure what for, what you’re expecting. You’re just the quiet girl in Bucky Barnes’ literature class. You don’t know how it got to this.
You’re too awkward to press the buzzer so you message Bucky to let him know you’re outside. Scrolling through your Facebook inbox, your messages have become...quite frequent. Especially at night. You lie on your bed and frantically type until the early hours, only realising it’s 3am before it’s too late.
That’s what friends do, right? Friends. 
(God, you’re so fucking in love with him, aren’t you?)
Bucky’s on the edge of a laugh when he answers the door, but his expression falters into muted surprise as soon as he lays eyes on you on his doorstep. A silly gold party hat is positioned at an angle over his head.
“(Y/N),” he says, and you flush, because the way he says your damn name. He steps aside so you can step in under his arm. “I’m glad you came. Finished The Idiot yet?”
“Onto the last fifty pages.” His house is decked out with balloons and paper chains and the loud pumping of a bass stereo carries from the lounge, alongside the chatter of laughing of guests. You recognise Columbia’s only archer and Olympic hopeful Clint Barton rush up the stairs, holding the hand of a brown haired girl. Bucky rolls his eyes at him and yells already? “I think it might be one of my favourites on the module.”
He leads you through to the kitchen which is empty other than various bottles of alcohol on the table and Natasha Romanoff sitting on the counter. Her red hair hangs effortlessly across her shoulders, lips painted scarlet, wearing a classy black jumpsuit. Natasha Romanoff makes you feel nervous because a) she’s the kind of girl you could never be and b) she’s the kind of girl Bucky Barnes dates. She’s sipping rose out of a wine glass, her eyes discretely looking you up and down.
“Is this the famous (Y/N)?” Natasha asks, her tone intrigued, her lips curved. Bucky laughs bashfully, scratching the back of his head. “Honestly, this guy doesn’t stop talking about you.”
“Sorry?” you gape, looking between her and him. Bucky sends Natasha a glare that signals for her to shut up which only makes her more amused by the situation, leaning back casually. “Uh, I don’t know--”
“Ignore her. She’s insatiable.” Bucky quickly swerves, pressing a glass into your hand. “Would you like a drink? We have pretty much everything imaginable. Natasha has plenty of wine she’d love to share.”
Natasha is totally unaffected, already looking at her mobile phone. She flicks a hand at a line of bottles next to the microwave. “Feel free, honey.”
You’re not a big drinker as you don’t often frequent cool college parties and you’ve been drunk a grand total of one time after one too many glasses of champagne on new year’s eve. Bucky seems to see this in your face.
“You don’t have to drink, obviously,” he says kindly, “But if you mix a bit of soda with rose it actually tastes kinda nice. Much better than beer, anyway.”
“Okay,” you nod, letting him mix the drink for you. He’s remarkably careful, pouring the tiniest amount from one of Natasha’s bottles and topping it up with sprite. He grabs a beer for himself, cracking off the lid with his teeth.
“You know you’re not impressive when you do that,” Natasha says drolly, even though she hasn’t looked up from her phone.
“(Y/N) was impressed,” Bucky says with a wink. You try and keep straight-faced but yeah, come on. You were.
“Of course she was impressed,” Natasha interjects, “You’re both stupidly in love with each other but too polite to make a move.”
Bucky flips her off before pressing a gentle hand in the small of your back, ushering you away from her. “She’s drunk.”
“I’m not drunk!”
You sip your drink, wondering if your palms will ever stop sweating. Natasha can’t be right. She isn’t right. Or is she? No, she can’t be, because this is Bucky Barnes and you’re you.
-
Bucky’s friends are actually kinda nice. Really nice, in fact. You’ve always been intimidated by Steve Rogers’ reputation on campus but he might be one of the sweetest guys you’ve ever met, instantly welcoming and eager to get you involved with the games he’s beginning to set up. Sam Wilson is bold and blunt, but he grins mischievously and gives Bucky a pointed look when he introduces you and snaps a party hat to your head. In various corners of the apartment you see people you vaguely recognise from school, names burning at the edges of your memory but ultimately escaping you. 
Steve sets up the table for beer pong and Bucky clutches your wrist, beckoning you over to play (and cutting short your conversation with a very interesting business major called Pepper). Steve and Sam are on one side while you and Bucky are apparently on the other--Steve’s positioned himself so he’s directly in view of a British exchange student with big eyes on the other side of the room. 
(Aside from your own, you’re actually pretty observant when it comes to potential romantic encounters.)
“Just so you know,” Sam stares hard at the two of you, pointing with two fingers, “It’s my birthday, so I have to win. It’s the rules.”
“I don’t think you have to worry,” you reply, looking up at Bucky. His expression is warm, his arms desperately close to yours. “I’m probably going to be pretty rubbish at this.”
“Buck’s a good teacher,” Steve says, grabbing a ping-pong ball and handing it over to Sam. He rolls it between his fingers, his face scrunched in mock seriousness. “But we’ve all had plenty of practice.”
“Too much practice, arguably,” Bucky drawls. “And Wilson, don’t you think for one second that (Y/N) and I are going to let you win under any circumstances.”
“I don’t need you to let me win,” Sam says, before perfectly throwing the ball into one of the cups near the front. He stands back smugly, crossing his arms over his chest, as the rest of the room whoops. “I think you’ll find I possess the skills for victory, fair and square.”
You laugh as Bucky rolls his eyes, picking up the plastic cup filled halfway with lukewarm beer. He keeps eye contact as he knocks the whole thing back, wiping his lip emphatically once he’s done. “That’s it. The game is on.”
-
Admittedly, it get’s to a point where it’s pretty close. You almost visibly bristle as Bucky tries to show you the ropes, positioning your hips with his hands and following your aim as you try (and often fail) to pit the ball in one of the opposite team’s plastic cups. Whenever you score he yelps dramatically, high-fiving you, and his grin is borderline magical.
(Natasha watches bemusedly from the sidelines, making dry comments here and there. It’s like she’s checking you out for herself. Assessing you.)
It get’s to the point where there is only one cup left on either side and the tension is palpable. Limbs are floppier from downing liquor, the aim repeatedly more off--your stomach is warm and your feet feel light--and Bucky’s palms ghost your waist as you concentrate on what could be the winning put. Sam and Steve try and distract you by dancing ridiculously to an ABBA track playing out the speakers, but Bucky’s words of encouragement are what filter through. You take a deep breath and throw, only exhaling when your ball lands with a triumphant plop in the central solo cup.
Bucky throws his fist in the air before grabbing you and spinning you round, his laugh ecstatic in your ear. You cling onto his neck, your fingers barely millimeters from entangling in his hair, before he plants you down on the ground again. Well. You think you’re on the ground. You might as well be in the clouds.
“A round of applause for the winning shot,” Bucky says, holding your hand and lifting your arm so you can take your bow (which you do with pleasure). Steve and Sam pretend to be reluctant, but they clap anyway.
“I’ll allow it, this once, (Y/N),” Sam answers bemusedly, coming round to the other side of the table. “But if you try and upstage me on my birthday again there will be consequences.”
You feel more confident now, more like these people are your friends. So you grin, feeling the magnetic pull of Bucky to his side from next to you. “I’ll try not to. Promise.”
Sam hums, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder. “Come on, Barnes. You can go mix me a drink.”
Bucky shrugs, asking if you want anything from the kitchen while he’s on his way there, but you shake your head. You’re happy right now with what you have.
-
Natasha approaches you while you’re waiting outside the bathroom. Someone--you think he’s called Rhodey--emerges and offers you a salute and you’re about to go in, but Natasha grabs your hand and pulls you in with her and locks the door behind you.
You’re so astonished you’re not sure what to say. She brushes the hair away from her neck, back facing you.
“I need someone to unzip me,” she declares like it’s obvious, indicating towards the zipper halfway down her back. “Do you mind?”
“No,” you blink, hand nimbly reaching forward to drag the zipper down her back. Even her back is flawless, like porcelain, a tattoo of what looks like a spider curling up from her waist. “Of course not, no.”
She sits on the toilet unabashedly and doesn’t ask you to look away but of course, you do, because this whole situation feels very strange indeed. The wall is plain and blue and spotted with mildew, probably damp from the shower. Like all student accommodation. It feels weird looking at damp while Natasha Romanoff, beautiful as she is, literally pees behind you.
“I care about Bucky a lot,” she says suddenly, “I’ve known him a long time. Way before college, way before we--dated. I love him, but not in the way you think. And I know what he’s like, what the signs are.”
You shift your feet uncomfortably. “The signs of what?”
She audibly sighs out of frustration. “Honestly, it sounds like you’re both as bad as each other. I know--I know when he’s falling for somebody. You’d think, I know you think, that somebody like him...he’d have no problem with it. And maybe if he cared a little less and felt less intensely he wouldn’t.”
“I’m not sure...”
The toilet flushes. Natasha rises and turns back to you and you dutifully zip her back up while she washes her hands, looking at your reflection in the mirror. When you’re stood side by side like this it really does emphasise the differences between you, but also the similarities. She’s a girl. So are you. Girls, despite what every atom of her being exudes. 
“You know exactly what I mean, (Y/N).” She smiles crookedly, wiping her hands on a towel. “Just--treasure him, yeah? He deserves it. I get a feeling you both do.”
She doesn’t look back at you as she leaves, closing the door behind her.
-
Bucky gives you one of his old football jerseys to walk home in because it’s past midnight and you didn’t bring your own. He also insists on walking you home. And you feel nervous, not just because you’re alone with him for the first time this evening, but also because Natasha’s words circle the back of your mind like a tape cassette stuck on loop. You know exactly what I mean, (Y/N).
“Can I ask you something?” you question, arms crossed as your steps echo on the sidewalk. The street is surprisingly deserted--it’s usually crowded with students, all sorts. Tonight, it is quiet.
Bucky looks over at you quizzically, but intrigued. “Yeah. Shoot.”
“Why me?” When he looks perplexed, you laugh awkwardly and continue on. “Connie Taylor is in our Russian lit class, too, and she’s way prettier than me and like...she’s been trying to get you to notice her all semester and yet.” You scrunch your nose as you look up at him, examining his features. His jawline. The hair that falls into his eyes. His naturally flushed cheeks. The party hat he’s yet to take off. Him. Him him him. “You always come to me.”
He bites the inside of his cheek. “Connie Taylor seems perfectly nice. But Connie isn’t you. I like you.” You arrive at the door of your block and he pauses, shoes scuffing into the ground. “She’s not prettier than you, or smarter than you, or any of the reasons you’ve inevitably thought in your head as to why you think she’s more deserving of anything than you. And I find it vaguely insulting that because...I don’t know, play football, that I could only be interested in one kind of person.”
You look away. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“No, I know.” He steps closer so that the toes of your shoes are almost touching. His hand searches in the darkness for your own. Squeezing your small fingers between his, scarred and scraped from football practice. “(Y/N), I like you because you’re funny and kind and intelligent. I like it when you message me about books, I like it when you save me a seat in lectures, I like it when you explain every single point you make so everyone in the class can understand it. I like so many things about you, and you need to get it out your head that because you’re not Connie Taylor that this can’t be true.”
“No-one ever notices me, Bucky,” you murmur quietly, “And I don’t say that for sympathy, or whatever. I say that because that’s how it’s always been.”
You both stare into each other and for one agonising, aching moment you think he might let go of your hand, snuff every spark out like a candle. But instead--instead he ducks in, covering your lips in a soft post-midnight kiss, his mouth warm and tasting faintly like beer. He snatches the breath from your lungs.
“Do you believe me now?” he whispers, hands curving round your jaw. You want to close your eyes, remember this feeling forever. Trap it all in a polaroid. “You are so fucking special. Everyone but you can see it, and it’s so frustrating.”
You kiss his palm, letting your lips linger on his skin for a moment longer. “Thank you for inviting me tonight. I had a really great time.”
His smile is faint but there, nonetheless. “I knew you would. I hope this means you’ll be willing to come out with me again sometime.”
“I think I would like that.”
He unravels from you, not before ducking in for one last sweet, beautiful kiss. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”
“‘Night, Bucky.”
Your hands remain clasped together until he’s far enough away from you, dropping your hand and grinning as he’s eventually lost in darkness. You have to hover for a second with your keycard in your hand, trying to gather your thoughts, process the events of the evening. Bucky Barnes like you. He likes you, not in spite of you, but because you’re you.
When you collapse on your bed you map the constellations of cracks on your ceiling, your heart thumping and your mind almost one hundred percent him.
-
“you and i, it’s as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to Earth together, to see if we know what we were taught.”
y/n. it’s 2am and doctor zhivago is making me cry.
also sam has made me drink sambuca
i wish i was crying over russian books with you
even though ur probably asleep
that’s cool
hope ur having sweet dreams
:)
miss you
-
my masterlist
send me a request
2K notes · View notes
lacrow · 4 years ago
Text
SXF Collaboration Story
@nonokoko13 , @sxfobsessed , @nagy-bari
First off I’d like to apologize. Under my insane direction, this little ficlet has turned into a 12k behemoth. Therefore I will be positing it in two parts (and also linking to ao3 since I threw it in with my one-shot collection). I’ll add the link to Part II when it’s edit/posted. Thank you to everyone who helped come up with this idea, it was a lot of fun to write!
Title: Cabernet Makes Her Clothes Fall Off
Rating: T
Part I: ao3
Part II: tumblr, ao3
Parties Involved: Loid Forger, Yor-Briar Forger, Anya Forger, Bond, Franky, Yuri Briar, Becky Blackbell, Camilla, Dominic, Millie, Sharon Mission Objective(s): host a dinner party for friends and acquaintances, [INCOMPLETE] Reporting Status: [IN-PROGRESS] ADDENDUM 1 [NIGHTFALL]: After careful review of last night's mission report, it has come to my attention that Twilight's conduct has been highly inappropriate for that of a WISE agent. I recommend personnel changes be made for the ensured success of Operation Strix. ADDENDUM 2 [TWILIGHT]: Sorry, I forgot to save you leftovers. ADDENDUM 3 [NIGHTFALL]: That's not what I meant, and you know it. ADDENDUM 4 [HANDLER]: He's married. Also, thank you for the leftovers, they were delicious.
Part I
A cacophony of sounds emanated from the Forger house as Yor frantically tried to get things ready for what was sure to be a total disaster.
In just a few hours, guests would be arriving for an impromptu dinner party that she had no right organizing in the first place. It wasn't her call to make, not without consulting her husband first, but...she went and opened her big mouth anyway. Now she was suffering the consequences for it, and not just her, either. Yor looked up through the window above the kitchen sink as she desperately went about getting things ready for the evening's festivities. Loid and Anya stood by the door as they started to put their coats on. The latter had her school backpack on, though in lieu of books and pencils it was instead filled with a change of clothes and some toys.
"I'll be back soon to help set up," Loid called out to her. He went to gather his hat and gloves. "I already called the Blackbells' nanny and told them I can't stay long."
"Ok," Yor replied meekly. Half of her wanted to tell him not to rush. The other half desperately wished to ask the opposite of him. "Please be careful you two."
"Bye mama!" Anya looked over at Yor as Bond came up to sniff her goodbye. "Have fun with your party tonight!"
The Forger matriarch couldn't help but to frown. "You do the same at your friend Becky's...do everything her parents tell you, okay?"
"I will!" Anya replied back. She smiled brightly in anticipation at her upcoming sleepover, though it waned the longer she stared up at her mama.
Yor had no way of knowing her daughter was reading her mind. If she did, it wouldn't have made her feel as guilty when Anya suddenly ran around the corner and wrapped her arms around her leg in a tight embrace. That wasn't to say she didn't appreciate the gesture; if anything she desperately needed it at the moment. It's just that she assumed Anya's hug was less out of fondness and more out of pity, though in the end she accepted it all the same. Yor knelt down and pulled Anya in close as Loid waited by the door with a well-hidden smirk on his face.
"Love you," Anya smiled encouragingly, eyes closed in content.
"I love you, too," Yor teared up a little. She squeezed her daughter tight. "I'll see you tomorrow."
They held each other for a moment. Though she didn't want it to end, Yor ended up being the first to let go. She smiled at Anya before the little girl waved and skipped off towards the door. Already turning the knob to leave, Loid let their daughter out first before turning to his wife. He said nothing, but gave a small, comforting smile to her before exiting. She nodded as a silent thanks before watching him leave, and it soon became just her and Bond. The Forger hound sat there with his tail wagging, and he looked up at Yor with an expectant look on his face.
Yor glanced down at the dog and sighed. "Well, Bond...time to get back to work."
Bond said nothing back, as was to be expected.
/*\
"You're joking, right? Not even a housewarming party?"
A familiar face; the deadpan look of an unimpressed Camilla, though to Yor she seemed just as pleasant as ever. If only the poor girl knew what every other woman working at city hall knew, which was that Camilla loathed her with a(n admittedly waning) passion. No one had the heart to say anything though, which was mostly why they stayed silent as Yor revealed to them that she and Loid had never had a get-together at their house before. Individual people, of course, but never more than one person at a time.
"Er, well...no?" Yor's lips squiggled. Was that a bad thing?
"Really, Yor, you're hopeless!" Camilla shook her head, exasperated. "Don't you and your husband have any friends?"
Yor blinked. "Well, of course we do. You, for starters."
Camilla's jaw dropped as the other women snickered behind her. Yor continued. "And I suppose that includes Dominic, as well? Also Loid's friend Franky, and his co-worker Fiona, and-"
"-Alright, alright, I get it!" the blonde woman grumbled, waving Yor off. "Fine, you have friends. So why then haven't you hosted before?"
Yor frowned a little. She knew why; it was because Loid was always tired and she was terrible in the kitchen. If there was going to be party then he would have to do the cooking, and Yor didn't have the heart to ask that of him. Not when he had so much on his plate already (pun unintended). Still, Yor could see where Camilla was coming from. She had been nice enough to invite her over to a get-together at her house, while Loid and herself had never shown the same courtesy back. It was rude, and not to mention suspicious.
Couples invited people over for dinner, right? So then, what would people think if she and Loid never did?
The more Yor thought about it, the more she realized her attempts at playing house were falling short again. Yor looked up at Camilla, Millie, and Sharon, and all of a sudden she felt self-conscious. They seemed to be waiting for an answer that Yor couldn't give them, or at the very least one she refused to share; that her marriage was a sham and she didn't know the first thing about entertaining guests. It was the truth, but they weren't meant to know that. All Yor could do was think about what her husband would do in her situation. What would Loid's response be?
He'd make it happen. One way or another, he'd pull through like he always did.
"W-well," Yor stammered. She flinched a little. "Why don't you all come over this Saturday?"
The other women paused, most of all Camilla. The three of them threw glances at one another, suddenly finding the spotlight reversed on them. They seemed to have a wordless conversation amongst themselves, while at the same time Yor kicked herself for opening the door to her home like that without talking to Loid first. He liked his privacy just as much as she did, and the weekend was one of the few times he got to relax (and even then it wasn't guaranteed). Yor's head started to slowly spiral; what if he got called into work, or she suddenly had to take a contract-killing job on short notice? This was a bad idea. She had to rescind her offer, and fast-!
"-Do you want us to bring anything...?" Camilla asked reluctantly. It almost looked like it pained her to say it out loud, mostly because it did.
Yor froze. The worst case scenario had come to pass, even more so because she had brought it upon herself. She stood there as three pairs of eyes stared at her once more, only there was no going back this time. The window of opportunity for backing out had already passed, and the only thing Yor could do was try her best to swallow the quickly growing lump in her throat.
"...N-no," Yor shook her head. She gulped. "...My husband and I will cook something for dinner..."
/*\
"I'm a horrible wife," Yor lamented as she straightened out her white polka dot dress. "I never should have agreed to this. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!"
"It's fine, Yor," Loid eased. He closed the oven door and threw his mitt onto the stove top. He turned towards her. "There's no reason to beat yourself up."
Yor frowned. Loid sighed. They both looked to the clock on the wall next to them and immediately came to the same conclusion; their guests were fashionably late. A quarter past six and no one had shown up yet, but that ended up being more of blessing than anything else. Loid had gotten held up at the Blackbells' a little longer than expected, and Yor had only just barely finished cleaning by the time he made it home. She at least had it to where all he needed to do was fix up the casserole for later; the rest of their home, from the living room to the bathroom, was immaculately spotless.
"So remind me again who all is coming?" Loid asked uncomfortably as he looked back to the kitchen. He was fairly certain there was enough food, but...
"Well..." Yor thought for a moment. "The girls, so, Camilla, Millie, and Sharon. Dominic as well, and he of course told my brother so Yuri's coming, too. And also Fiona-?"
Loid shook his head. "She won't be coming. Something came up at work and she won't be able to make it."
Some hostage situation at the embassy, last he heard. Nothing Nightfall couldn't handle, though it'd certainly take her the whole night to sort through it all. Tragedy aside, it at least worked in favor of Loid's dinner planning. Along with some easy-to-make finger foods, there would be more than enough to keep everyone satisfied. On top of that, they'd rearranged the furniture in the living room to open it up a bit more. They had also moved the dining room table up against the wall, and Loid even got a hold of a couple breakfast nook chairs (courtesy of WISE) for the counter at the kitchen window.
This little shindig of theirs was turning into quite the gathering. Loid smiled a bit at the thought, even as Yor continued to look up at him in dismay. He had half a mind to reassure her some more, but knew it would only fall on deaf ears. Instead, he took it upon himself to leave her for a moment to go digging in the pantry. He fished out one of the cheap bottles of wine they'd gotten for the evening's festivities. Yor immediately held her hand up to protest, though karma had come full circle to spite her. She didn't listen to Loid. Therefore, neither would he listen to her.
A moment later and he arrived with a glass in his hand, filled halfway with blood-red courage. "Everything will be fine."
"I know..." Yor replied weakly as she took the wine glass from her husband. "...I just feel guilty for dragging you along with all this."
"Hey, we're a team," Loid reassured her. He smiled again, and Yor's face became flushed. "You just focus on enjoying yourself, and I promise it'll all work out."
For what felt like the first time that night, Yor gave a smile back. A small one, of course, since she still had a million things running through her head, but at the very least she gave Loid the response he was looking for. Yor closed her eyes and took a sip and, as if her husband had been right all along, there came a knock at the door immediately after. Yor paused; she quickly tried to swallow her wine in order to answer it properly, though Loid was already opening the door by the time she had composed herself.
They both figured it must have been Yuri (since he was usually quite punctual), but Loid's face fell flat as someone else came into view. "I hope I'm not late!"
Shaggy hair. Scraggly chin. A stature half that of Loid's; the man glowered. "Franky, what the hell are you doing here?"
"I'm here for the party, of course!" Franky gave a stupid grin as he held up another bottle of wine. "I didn't get the invitation, but I figured you must've forgot!"
"...Right, of course," Loid's eyes narrowed. He continued to glare while Franky grinned. "Must have slipped my mind..."
Stiffly, Loid stepped back to allow his friend entry. He looked to Yor as Franky shuffled in, and he shuddered to think what an unaccounted for guest would mean for her party. Surprisingly, his wife seemed pleased at Franky's presence. She set her glass down and gave him a proper greeting, to which Franky did the same. He placed the bottle of wine on the counter after shedding his coat, and immediately made a b-line for the bathroom. The door shut behind him as he made his pit stop, leaving both Forgers alone again for a moment.
"I'm glad Franky could make it!" Yor smiled.
"Likewise," Loid added flatly. He shook his head in dismay.
"Next time I'll be sure to remind you to invite him," she added while grabbing his arm.
Loid relented with a smile to his wife, though the inside of his head was working overtime trying to sort through possible scenarios for the evening. It's not entirely that he didn't want Franky there (part of him truly didn't), but the less he mixed up Twilight's affairs with Loid Forger's the better. Not even taking into account just what a bad idea inviting an SSS agent into his home was, having Franky and Fiona there would have thrown a whole headache of problems into the equation. Nightfall could have handled herself well enough, but Franky...
He prayed to whatever god above that the little fool could behave himself. Just for one night.
All Loid could do was have a little faith, though that wasn't really his M.O. He'd try not to worry in the meantime, but would continue to keep an eye on Franky for the rest of the night. He eased up on the guy once he emerged out the bathroom and approached him and Yor for pleasant conversation; his initial terseness passed, and the three of them actually got on well enough for a time. For how long, specifically, Loid couldn't say. Before any of them knew it, there came another knock at the door. This time Yor was the one to answer.
"I'm so sorry I'm late, Yor!" an impassioned voice cut through their home, and Loid knew right away it was Yuri. "I got held up at work and missed my train!"
"That's okay, Yuri, so is everyone else!" Yor smiled, and Loid did, too. She was letting the guest situation roll of her shoulders, which was good.
There was a shuffle at the door as both Briars came inside. Yor took her brother's hat and coat, and he smiled pleasantly at her in silent thanks. The moment his head swiveled in Loid's direction, however, that pleasantness quickly took a nosedive. Yor was none the wiser, of course, though Loid was more than aware of his brother-in-law's killer vibe. He smiled.
"It's good to see you again, Yuri!" Loid chimed politely. His smile grew as Yuri's turned even more.
"Loi-Loi," Yuri bowed his head stiffly in acknowledgement. Beside him, Franky cracked up at his friend's stupid nickname.
Yuri's eyes fixed on Loid and Yor's other guest. Likewise, Franky looked to Yuri. This was the first time either had met each other properly, though Franky was more than familiar with Yor's brother and his position as an SSS agent. Admittedly, it was a bit unnerving for Franky to be in his presence, especially with that...weird look he stared at him with. Loid had warned him about it multiple times; the dude was nuts about his sister. Him being friends with Loid probably didn't lend him any favors, so his opinion of him probably was at rock bottom at the moment.
Nowhere to go but up from there, right? "Hiya! The name's Franky, nice to meet you!"
Franky held his hand out to shake. Yuri glanced at it before looking back up. He offered no hand of his own.
"Yuri! Don't be rude!" Yor chastised her brother from behind. He cringed and glanced at her over his shoulder. "Franky's my friend, too!"
The Briar boy turned back around to find two smug smiles waiting for him; an obvious one from Franky, and a thinly-veiled one from Loid. Whether he noticed them or not, Yuri made no comment. He simply shook Franky's hand (reluctantly) and offered a halfhearted hello in reply. The two promptly separated and went their separate ways. Franky followed Loid into the kitchen while Yor stayed behind to talk more with her brother, and both groups kept up conversation for a time until another knock came at the door.
Camilla and Dominic. The pair entered, both carrying offerings for the party; a tray of enticing appetizers and another bottle of wine, respectively. The couple were met with multiple greetings and they offered their own before splitting up almost immediately. Loid showed Camilla into the kitchen while Dominic stayed behind to talk with Yuri. Franky joined everyone else in the living room, seeing as how there wasn't a lot of room in that tiny kitchen for three people. Besides, Loid didn't trust him in there, which was fair.
"Thank you for the food, but you really didn't have to go through all the trouble," Loid told Camilla as he dug into the cabinet for plates.
"Well, Dominic insisted we bring something, and it's a recipe I've been meaning to try out for a while now." She stood off to the side to stay out of his way.
"It smells great, can't wait to try it," Loid smiled pleasantly. A moment later and he procured the dinnerware. Camilla offered to take them into the living room for him.
Loid handed the plates off to her. Camilla turned to walk away, but paused as Loid spun around to gather his own appetizers. She shifted uncomfortably as she scanned him up and down; a nice dress shirt, perfectly sleeked hair, muscles, and an air of confidence that most men spent their whole lives pretending to have. Loid Forger had it all, and Camilla couldn't fathom just how in the hell Yor ever bagged such a hot husband in the first place. Seriously, how? It was downright frustrating just how perfect he seemed; the man could cook, raise a daughter, deal with Yor, and still seem nonchalant about everything. If she didn't know any better, Camilla would have said his and Yor's marriage was some kind of front for the mob or something. There was just no way...
"...Babe, you alright?" Dominic's head suddenly popped into the kitchen. "You're spacing."
Camilla jumped out of her skin and nearly dropped the tin, in no small part because she was caught red-handed thinking about Yor's husband. Luckily for her, Dominic didn't come to that conclusion. He smiled and waved her over and, after she shook herself out of it, Camilla followed him obediently towards the living room. The two of them dropped the food off on the dining room table on the way, which was joined by Loid's tin soon after. He stuck around to open some of the wine bottles, and Yor had half a mind to offer him help but ultimately decided against it. He was good at popping corks, and she would have honestly just gotten in the way.
Yuri, Camilla, and Dominic stood off to the side and chatted. Franky kept Yor company until Loid appeared a minute later, and the three of them sat gathered around the coffee table while they waited for the other guests to eventually arrive. So far, so good, Yor thought to herself as she scanned her apartment. Wine glass in hand, she let out a poorly hidden sigh of relief. At that point, Loid smirked. He must have been thinking the same thing she was, at least that's what Yor assumed. He leaned over the table to pat her shoulder comfortingly, and she flinched at his touch (out of habit) before quickly relaxing. Her husband was right; just enjoy the evening, and everything would work out fine.
She nodded to herself and took a sip of wine, and a small smile tugged at her lips soon after.
/*\
Millie and Sharon arrived stag together soon after. With Franky taking up the baton for Fiona, everyone Yor had invited ended up coming. Bond was promptly kenneled in Anya's room (with plenty of food, water, and a bone) and the party was in full swing. 
Loid started to drop off plates in front of people, and he couldn't help but be thankful that Handler had secretly requisitioned him the extra chairs. It was just enough for everyone to have a seat, though he distinctly remembered her shaking her head initially at his request. Not that she wouldn't do it, but more to do with the fact that he was going native, as she had so eloquently put it. A dinner party for his wife's friends? The higher-ups would rip them both a new one if they got wind that Twilight was blowing agency funds again over something stupid.
Regardless, she wrote it off as a business expense for an upcoming mission.
Handler always was a sucker for parties.
Loid just needed to save her some leftovers, which was easy enough. A couple missing appetizers and a suspiciously absent square of casserole were tucked safely away in his fridge for his boss. The spy game could get weird sometimes, and vicarious party attendance was just one of those things that agents did to keep themselves entertained during missions. Usually that involved going out of their way to secretly acquire a bottle from the bar to bring back to a safe house or finding out a way to smuggle out a whole chunk of wedding cake without being seen by the bride and groom. It was a stupid inside joke amongst spies; that being said, Loid was no stranger to it. He fully expected the same from Handler the next time she attended a party for a mission.
"Thank you, Loid!" Yor beamed up at him as he pulled up the chair next to her. All the plates had been delivered, and he held the last one in his hands as he sat down.
"Yes, thanks for cooking. It looks great," Sharon added politely across from them. At her side, Millie echoed the sentiment while trying hard not to eat without everyone else.
Loid nodded and waved off their praise. Meanwhile, Yuri grumbled from his spot against the wall. He of course wasn't about to afford his brother-in-law any good will, though Franky next to him had more than enough for the two of them. He stared down at the food in front of him with big eyes and watering mouth; it was by far the best looking thing he'd seen in a long time. He wasn't necessarily the healthiest eater at home. Mostly his pantry was filled with noodles, cereal, and the occasional box of macaroni. This was a downright feast.
There was only one thing missing, and he almost forgot it before digging in. He hadn't eaten anything all day so he'd abstained up until then, but now was definitely the time for a tall glass of wine. He swung down from his chair and shuffled into the kitchen as the rest of the party cut into their food and carried on in conversation. Nobody paid him any mind, save for one man whose head immediately shot over when he noticed a familiar bob of scruffy hair struggle to uncork another wine bottle. Loid quickly excused himself with no one the wiser.
"No drinking," he stated firmly as he came up behind Franky and lifted the bottle from his hands. The latter spun around incredulously.
"Excuse me?" Franky guffawed. He held his arms out to the side to accentuate just how insulted he was.
"Do you remember what happened the last time you drank at my house?" Loid replied flatly. His voice was hushed. Their conversation needed to be quiet.
Franky considered for a moment. He genuinely gave it some thought before slowly shaking his head. "Er...no?"
Loid pinched the bridge of his nose. "You nearly blew my cover, plus you convinced me to spend thousands of dalc on a castle rental for Anya!"
"Hey, that was your fault for listening to a drunk guy!" Franky shot back, which only caused Loid's eye to twitch in annoyance. "Also, what are you talking about?! Yor's drinking and she's way worse than I am!"
"I can handle my wife. I can't handle both of you," Loid shook his head like a father reprimanding his child.
"She's your fake wife!" Franky whispered back loudly. "I'm your best friend! You're really just going to cut me off like this?"
Loid leaned over his so-called best friend. Their height difference was on full display, and Franky gulped. "This whole party was Yor's idea! It's important to her, and I'm going to make sure it goes off without a hitch. If that means keeping you dry for an evening, then so be it!"
Twilight made a brief reappearance; those cold eyes he was known for were suddenly aimed directly at Franky, and they got his point across loud and clear. With a reluctant nod, Franky agreed to skip the booze. Loid soon eased and nodded back before leaving to return to the other guests. That just left Franky alone by himself with an open wine bottle and a half-full glass on the counter in front of him. He grimaced at the thought of pouring it back into the bottle, a social faux pas if there ever was one. Dumping it certainly wasn't an option, either. Franky was never one to waste a good drink, regardless of the situation.
The newly-sober intelligence agent put his brain to work and came up with a quick solution; if Loid thought so lowly of him at the moment, why not prove him wrong? He was trying to score points with Yor (probably, he really didn't know why Twilight cared in the first place), so maybe if he helped make sure she had a good time then that might make him back off a little. Yeah, that's it! He'd pour the rest of the wine and treat her to a glass, then...well, he'd think of the rest later! His first priority was to make sure Yor was liquored up. Can't have a good party without feeling good, of course!
It all made sense. At least, it did to Franky, anyway.
With a smug grin, he filled the remainder of the glass. The bottle glugged in his hand until there was nothing left, and he promptly disposed of it before carefully curling his fingers around the cabernet meant for Yor. He focused intently on the red liquid as he walked, staring down at it to make sure that none of it came splashing out. Franky narrowed his eyes and suffered full on tunnel vision; for all the years he and Twilight had known each other, also taking into account what a connoisseur the latter was, it was a downright shameful how little Franky knew about handling wine.
Anyone who had ever carried a glass before knew to look forward when they were walking, not down at their hand.
Nobody noticed him at first. He scooted into the open room and crept up while everyone was eating and talking. Yor had her back to the wall, and Loid's was towards him. All the better to surprise the Forgers with a kind gesture, Franky plotted. He let a sneer cut across his face as he arrived and cleared his throat, summoning his hosts' attention.
"Here you go, Yor!" Franky announced obnoxiously. All eyes turned towards him. He lifted his nose haughtily in the air. "I thought you might like a glass of wine-!"
-He suddenly stopped.
Not of his own volition, but because something had caught his foot and sent the rest of him reeling forward. Franky's eyes widened, and he looked down to find he'd tripped over one of Bond's stupid chew toys. He hadn't seen it before. It was too late to do anything about it. Already he was lurching towards Yor and Loid, and even if he caught himself from falling over there was no stopping the overflowing cup in his hands from spilling everywhere. Franky watched, captive, as cabernet rained over the one person Loid had done his damnedest to please that evening.
Yor sat helpless as her white polka dot dress suddenly splattered blood red. Warm liquid stained her and her clothes, and the rest of the party froze for a millisecond as what was happening still registered in their brains. Then, immediately after, Loid jumped up. Yuri and Dominic did so as well, while the women covered their mouths in disbelief. Yor stared down at herself in shock as her brother and husband clamored around her, though it was Dominic that ended up gathering all the available napkins to sop up whatever wine was left puddled around her.
Franky ultimately didn't fall. He caught himself at the last second, though he quickly wished he'd landed flat on his face and passed out from the trauma. At least then he could have been spared from Twilight's wrath; when Westalis' legendary agent quickly ascertained his wife was alright and promptly spun around, Franky could feel his soul being pulled out from his body. And the worst part about all that was, Loid wasn't alone. For the first, terrifying time, both he and Yuri seemed on the same wavelength. The two pierced through him with blood lust in their eyes. An SSS and WISE agent both teaming up to gut him; hell had certainly frozen over, and Franky felt the chill down to his bone.
"...Franky!" Loid menaced. He said nothing more. He didn't have to. The mere mention of his name alone was enough to make the agent quake in fear.
Yuri on the other hand was far more animated, though Dominic was at least on standby to forcibly reel him in. "How dare you spill wine all over my sister you q-tip-headed moron!"
"Hey now, it was an accident!" Dominic reasoned with a pained smile, even as Yuri tried to break free from his grip in order to pummel Franky's face into casserole.
"...H-he's right," Yor piped up reluctantly. Everyone suddenly got quiet and spun around to face her. "It's fine, you two. I'll just...have to rinse off in the shower real quick."
Loid paused. He looked at Yor to find her already standing up. She hid her face with a frown, and immediately Loid's heart sank. With a muted excuse me, she walked past Loid and the other guests on her way to the bathroom. The party watched in silence as she darted into the bathroom. No one made a peep, not until the door closed behind her; at that point, things picked back up exactly where they left off. Yuri went to rip Franky a new one. Dominic did damage control. Camilla and the girls mumbled to each other in hushed tones, and Loid was left standing there in the middle of it all. He stared at the bathroom, disheartened. He wanted to help, but knew there was nothing he could do at the moment besides keep the party going. He had to. For Yor's sake.
With a heavy sigh, he flipped on the switch once more. Back to being Loid Forger, the perfect family man.
With a fake smile and calm demeanor, he went about trying to put everyone at ease. Yuri was by the far the most difficult of the bunch to appease, but after much pandering (and an honest promise to kick Franky's ass later) Yor's brother finally calmed somewhat. He sat far off at the other end of the living room away from everyone else, and once he settled down the rest quickly followed. Conversation slowly picked back up, even more so once the sound of a shower being drawn came from the end of the hall. Yor was getting cleaned up. She'd be back at the party in no time, and the thought was enough to finally get things back in full swing. Franky was still the odd-man out, but Loid didn't care about that. The twerp.
New house rule, Twilight thought to himself as he went back into the kitchen to pour the ladies some more wine. No more WISE agents at social functions.
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lunawings · 4 years ago
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My history with King of Prism and worries for the future
Poor Nikkanen. They made us wait TWO YEARS for the release of the full version of his ONLY song. I don’t think Prism Rush was supposed to end when it did, and the unreleased songs are more or less proof of that. (I mean what were they saving them for? I doubt the “Best Of” collection was what they originally had in mind.) I had always assumed that some time after SSS ended we’d start getting new songs on Prism Rush again and get another Prism Rush compilation CD. But that did not happen. 
Did SSS not do well? I mean... having been in a sold-out theater many a time I had assumed that it did quite well. But maybe the TV ratings and/or DVD sales weren’t what they should have been. (Then again, if we’re just talking about Prism Rush, it wouldn’t matter how well SSS did or didn’t do if people didn’t spend enough money on the app to warrant releasing new songs for it.) 
But that aside... it is a bit concerning to not only have Prism Rush ending, but over a year after SSS, to have nothing on the horizon in the future except for some “Best Of” discs... Maybe they’ll announce something at the Zoom show? Maybe they won’t. 
It may be too early to start mourning the King of Prism series as a whole, but...
But I can’t help but feel myself starting to mourn at least my own future with it.  With no new Prism Rush content and without ability to go to in-person cheering shows, I... I just I... I feel like I may find it hard to keep as passionate as I have been in the past. And to make matters worse, I’m not going to be able to work on my translations as much as before either. When I was translating 2-3 events a month on my Prism Rush translation blog, I had no job and then like... half a job. To make a long story short recently that first job not only got upgraded to full time, but I got another job as well. So now I have a job and a half and... a lot less free time. 
For a long time my main fandom has been split something like 49%/51% Love Live/King of Prism, but with the constant stream of accessible new Love Live content and lack of much of anything King of Prism I think that percentage will soon change...
And so, while feeling emotional about all this, I started mentally revisiting my favorite moments from my time in the King of Prism fandom. (It’s all stuff I’ve talked about before, but if you’d like me to dig up the post or explain the details, do let me know...)
(In somewhat chronological order-ish)
*Stepping out of Toho Cinemas and into the Bay City Nagoya Mall in early January 2016 not knowing how to process what had just happened. I’d heard people talk about how exiting to the parking lot after seeing Star Wars the first time in the 1970s was a bizarre experience. They didn’t know how to tell people the world was different now. I thought to myself that this was probably the same feeling. How could I tell people the world was sparkling now?
*Three weeks and three showings later, realizing I did not want to trade after I opened up my Shin filmstrip bonus. “I think I like him.” 
*Hanging up said filmstrip and my other original theater bonuses on the wall of my apartment. “King of Prism won’t be in theaters much longer”, I thought to myself. “It was fun while it lasted.”
*The radiance exploding from me as I talked to OTHER PEOPLE who had seen King of Prism for the fIRsT tIME (a thing that did not happen for several months). 
*Tokyo cheering shows back in the heyday. Looking around a giant, screaming, sold-out theater in Ikebukuro after many months had passed and realizing I was a part of something much bigger than I had realized. 
*The first Animate Cafe in Kyoto. Everyone gleefully answering “Naaaani” while listening to the explanation of how the cafe worked. The miracle of getting my first, and still favorite, cafe Shin badge.
*Screaming at the Over the Rainbow event live viewing when they announced Pride the Hero. We did it. We really did it. We were actually getting the sequel I once thought was impossible.
*The midnight showing of Pride the Hero. People crying before it even started and the thunderous applause after it finished that I thought would never end. (People in Japan usually never clap after movies.) 
*Music Ready Sparking. (The first concert.) The feeling of seeing SePTENTRION (long before they were called that) rising up to the stage to perform live for the first time. 
*The realization that I knew all the words to Dramatic Love, despite having never sang it before. (The instrumental began during the credits at the concert and we all... just... started singing. Japanese fandoms usually never sing at concerts unless directed to.) This is probably still my favorite moment of all time in the King of Prism fandom.
*The announcement of the Prism Rush app and the golden age of the game. Biting my nails with anticipation over what would happen next in the White Day event.
*Screaming in the theater during the Rose Party 2018 event live viewing when they announced SSS. We did it. We REALLY did it this time. We got an actual anime. We reached the mainstream.
*The adventure that was reading Road to SSS for the first time on Prism Rush and trying to predict what all the duos would be only to be blindsided by completely new characters. Going from “the heck are these guys” to “MY SONS” regarding the Amamoto twins over the course of about an hour.  
*Listening to everyone (not so) silently laughing, screaming, crying, and otherwise sUfFeRiNg during the non-cheering midnight premiere of SSS Part 1 and realizing I had never felt so emotionally connected to any such other large group of complete strangers before. 
*Going from the Nagoya premiere straight to the SSS greeting show in Tokyo where Junta Terashima looked at me... maybe. (I’d like to think he did.)
*When the OP played for the first time during our very first SSS livestream on Rabbit and seeing y’all just typing “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” into the chat.
*In Tokyo, walking out of KFC in the POURING rain and stumbling upon SePTENTRION’s shopping street despite having completely missed it the first time. IT WAS REAL. 
*Glancing over at my TV screen during our very last SSS livestream on Rabbit and having the color drain from my face when I saw Shin in his Daisuki Refrain outfit (which was not shown in theaters) for the very first time two minutes before you guys in the chat would see it, and having no idea how to contain this emotion. 
*Clicking to another tab after our last SSS livestream to type my commentary post and then clicking back to see you guys collectively making the Wiki page for SePTENTRION on Rabbit.
*Prism dolphin show.
*The CLOUD of real (fake) money flying through the air during Kakeru’s prism show on the during all-night Prism Shower showing of SSS. (Also people offering to pay for young Alexander to go to the Prism King Cup.)
*The miracle moment when I finally got the livestream for the Rose Party 2019 on Stage to work on Kast despite a typhoon and an earthquake. THE PRISM SPARKLE PREVAILED. Dangerously walking back to my hostel in said typhoon and sleeping for about an hour and not even caring because I was convinced more than ever that the prism sparkle is real.  
*Seeing Shota Aoi live for the first time, realizing I was looking at a literal angel, and not knowing how to contain this emotion. 
*The chills during an orchestral Dramatic Love.
*A very overdue performance by my favorite boy during the Best Ten movie. It was worth the wait. Feeling I may actually be able to leave Japan with no regrets thanks to Daisuki Refrain.
*The Best Ten greeting show in Nagoya where Masashi Igarashi jumped an original Nagoya-themed prism jump. 
*Finally telling Junta Terashima and Masashi Igarashi my feelings in the letters I spent days writing to put in their present boxes at the SSS live. 
*Dropping all my luggage when I stumbled upon the very place, the very scaffolding under which Minato met Kouji for the first time in Shizuoka. IT WAS REAL.
*Masashi Igarashi waved to me at the end of the 2nd performance of the SSS live... maybe. (I’d like to think he did.) 
*Hearing the “Naaaani” response to anything ringing through the Makuhari Messe hall before the SSS live and just thinking about how far we’ve come as a fandom and yet how much has stayed the same. 
Like I mentioned earlier, I had a moment in early 2016 when I hung up all the King of Prism stuff I had on my wall and thought “It was fun while it lasted.” 
It looked like this:
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Nowadays I have two FULL photo albums filled with concert tickets, theater bonuses, post cards, coasters, stickers... (Not to mention an entire drawer filled with my collection of Shin merch.)
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Everything inside is a memory of some event I went to, something I ate at a cafe, some kind of experience I had such as the ones I talked about in this post... It’s always been pretty disorganized because I was constantly getting new things all the time.
But now that I have no idea when (...or if) it will be added to, I can finally take it all out and organize it by character or something. 
But I’ve been avoiding it. 
Because I know when I do, there will probably be a moment where I close the cover and think to myself “It was fun while it lasted.”
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gottawriteanegoortwo · 5 years ago
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Darkstache Week Day Seven: Ordinary People
Days: 1, 2 , 3, 4 , 5, 6, 7
At last, the final prompt of the wonderful event hosted by @projectdarkstache! Thank you so much for encouraging everyone to create such fantastic pieces and I hope all the works can be cherished by their creators! You’ve all done fantastic!
~
After years of causing chaos and trouble as the Actor, Mark uses his new freedom to bring the fictional world he ruled back to the modern real world. But what about Dark and Wilford?
Word Count: 2,437
(while not necessarily a warning, this does contain sympathetic!Actor becoming Youtuber!Mark in the timeline my stories are written in.)
-
If he was asked, Mark would admit he had no idea when he felt like ‘himself’ again. It had been decades since the troubled actor’s heart was shattered, the will to live had vanished, and the ability to die eluded him. His broken soul was utterly consumed by the terrors of the Manor’s arcanic past until he became a god-like figure in a world of his own creation. Former friends were moulded and reshaped into characters to suit his schemes. Poor, innocent souls over the decades were pulled into the cat-and-mouse plot to populate the worlds. Drama and chaos were on the regular schedule, and how the Actor thrived!
But now… Peace. And Mark was baffled by it.
He remembered standing at the edge of the city, watching the sun rise like he had never seen the day before. In all the years of darkness and being pulled like a puppet by unseen forces, maybe that was the truth. A new life, a new start. The ‘performances’ he had been part of were failed attempts to gain control over a world that had torn him to pieces and tossed him in the trash. All they achieved was pain and suffering. As he recognised this and wanted to do good, the world he had mastery over was fading and merging with the real world - the one he had left behind. With new independence, he was losing grip over whatever powers he had before. No more would he be able to cheat death or restart time. This was it, the final ‘act’. He didn’t feel sorry for himself. Mark was finally ready to break free from the puppet strings and start over… But there were two in particular he needed to apologise to. Trying to face Dark or Wilford now would result in mockery or gunfire (or both). However, from his spot on the hill, he could see a new opportunity. He could reverse the crimes that were cast. Let them and all their old friends live the lives they were meant to in this new, modern world.
Mark opened his arms wide as the light of the morning sun hit his weary body.  At last, the game was up. He could set everything right.
--
--
“Ah, there’s the man of the hour, Damien himself!” A familiar voice sang as he entered the office with his usual dramatic flair. 
“It’s ‘Mayor Brooks’ while you are here, Mark. But it is good to see you.” Damien countered, playfully rolling his eyes. Even if Mark was a big internet celebrity, he made it his mission to check in regularly on Damien. It was a nice relief, even if the pair were trying to regain grounds on their friendship. Mark had dated his twin sister in university, but the manner in which the pair broke up was so dramatic, it caused a rift between the two young men. At least a friendship from childhood was not one that could be broken forever. He saved the document he was typing and closed the laptop. “If you are here, can I assume there is some great problem going on in your world?”
“Oh, no no. All good on my end!” Mark slumped onto the sofa to the side of the office with a laugh. “I recorded one huge game over the weekend and scored myself some free time. What better way to spend it than with my favourite politician?”
“As much as I appreciate the compliment, I would gather that your other friends are busy and you don’t have anyone else to turn to.” However blunt the statement might be, there was a smile on Damien’s face as he fell back onto the free half of the couch. Mark responded with a loud gasp and a hand on his chest, which only prompted Damien to lightly push him.
“How dare you! I’ll have you know I came here to see if you wanted to grab a coffee with me. I found ten bucks in my pants pocket this morning and I wanna splash out. Come on, Dames! Doesn’t your favourite coffee place have the best pumpkin spiced latte on this side of the city?”
“Mark, it’s May. They aren’t going to make that for you.” Now it was Damien’s turn to be pushed as Mark waved the ten dollar bill in his face.
“I think you’ll find myself and mister Alexander Hamilton will disagree with tha- HEY!” Letting his guard down was a mistake, as Damien took the chance to snatch the money out of his hand and jump onto his feet. “You crooked politician! Stealing the money of an innocent, hard-working man like me!”
Damien fetched his coat with a chuckle. “For someone who wants coffee, you don’t seem very keen in moving for it.” It worked, and a childishly offended Mark pulled himself off the couch. The money was returned to Mark as the pair exited the office. Damien did need a break, he decided as he locked the door after him.
-
Mark was an interesting man. He could act loud and brash, but it was only a mask that hid a soul that seemed older than thirty. Damien used to joke that Mark might be an old man stuck in a young body. The walk to the coffee shop took the usual diversion through a nearby park so they could swap stories and chat without the rush of the world shoving them forward. Mark and his content creator friends were busy working on a variety of projects, and he himself admitted he was feeling happier in himself than he had been in recent years. Likewise, Damien had been working on completing some important jobs around the city and trying to get some new schemes underway.  It was busy, but rewarding. In times like this, neither had to play the part cast for them by society. They could be themselves, just like old times. It meant that Damien was more relaxed and jovial by the time they reached their destination.
The coffee shop had the familiar busy hum to it as the pair entered. Since Damien was a regular, there was never any fanfare of the mayor visiting their business. Mark’s ‘perfect’ disguise of a worn baseball cap and his glasses seemed to do the job of keeping a low profile. Surprisingly, the barista did indeed agree to make a pumpkin spiced latte for Mark, as well as Damien’s regular order. Both drinks and two large muffins were covered by the ten dollar bill, much to Mark’s delight. For now, they simply had to wait for their drinks.
“- And still no sign of a special someone?” It was a question Mark frequently asked. Damien seemed content to be ‘married’ to his work, but Mark would argue that the companionship would make the heavy workload more bearable. They both knew it was true, but Damien was a stubborn man. He was too proud to deal with blind dates, and seemed insistent on waiting for ‘the right person’. Instead, Damien countered with a question about Amy and how she and the two dogs were doing. A simple diversion, but a wholesome one, as Mark could share silly moments and photos on his phone, and Damien could enjoy the tales. How could he not be happy for his friend? It seemed like things were finally looking up for him.
At that, Mark’s drink and the muffins were ready, but there was no sign of Damien’s drink. He insisted Mark go fetch a table while Damien continued waiting. Several long minutes passed as people who ordered similar drinks received theirs, and Damien was tempted to ask one of the staff about his drink. Just as he was about to, the door slammed open as a man stumbled in.
“Geez, man! Could you not break that door, please?” The manager shouted at the stranger, who hurried over and apologised profusely while ordering his ‘usual’ summer iced drink and telling a story about a kid outside throwing ice-cream at him. Damien pulled out his phone to try and look busy, but his eyes strayed from the screen and darted to the man.
The stranger was a head taller than Damien and had a broad build that was emphasised by the fitted white t-shirt and jogging pants he was wearing. His black, curly hair looked somewhat erratic, while the large, bushy moustache reminded Damien of the chief of police from a TV show he loved. Facial hair of that style wasn’t in season anymore - not to mention this wasn’t as eloquently groomed as other moustaches would have been - so it was likely something important to the man. His face was framed by a sturdy jawline, which gave a somewhat intimidating air. But his eyes… Were looking in Damien’s direction. Oops.
The Mayor gulped and returned his attention to his phone.
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” Damien jumped at the sudden voice and presence beside him. The stranger had stepped closer without him realising it. “Is something wrong? Did that kid get ice-cream on my shirt?”
“No, your shirt is fine.” Damien responded quickly, intending to leave it at that. But the stranger stayed firm, bringing a sigh out of the politician. “I’m sorry. I know it’s rude to stare. I thought I recognised you, that’s all.” 
“And do you?” The stranger sounded genuinely curious. That was enough to prompt Damien to lock and pocket his phone.
“I’m not sure. I feel like I do, and I wouldn’t forget a moustache like that, but I can’t place anything… Even if it feels like it’s on the tip of my tongue.” Realising how odd that sounded, his shoulders slumped in resignation. “I’m sorry, this all sounds rather bizarre from a complete stranger -”
“No!” Both men were taken aback at the stranger’s interruption. “Er, no. Sorry. It doesn’t sound weird. I feel the same. I feel like I know you -”
“I’m the Mayor. That’s hardly a surprise.”
“- yeah, but like I know know you, you know?” The stranger shook his head, curls bouncing with a nervous chuckle. “I think this is a sign. Maybe we ought to get to know each other properly, just in case we met in a dream.” A large hand was offered to Damien. “The name’s William Barnum, but friends can call me -”
“The Colonel.” Damien finished. Confusion was mirrored on both faces.
“How did you -”
“I don’t know?” No matter how he tried to place a specific memory with the phrase, nothing came to mind. Instead, he pushed it aside. “My name is Damien Brooks. Despite the rather odd circumstances, it is a pleasure to meet you.” The large hand was taken, and they gave a firm shake.
Immediately, a memory crossed Damien’s mind. This man had pink in his hair. His own hands were gray. Mark had a shadowed, wicked grin on his face. But as soon as it came, it vanished, like trying to recall a fading dream. 
“Hey, Damien?” William’s dark eyes had drifted aside as he tried to encourage the words to come to him. “Do you want to go out for lunch this week?” A simple question made Damien’s heart skip a beat as an all-too familiar sensation of butterflies in his stomach manifested.
“Are - are you asking me out on a date?”
“Yeah… Is that too forward? I feel like it’s the right thing to do. You’re very handsome.” 
Strange. Why did Damien feel like William had complimented him like that a hundred times before? Stranger still, why did it make him feel so happy to hear the nervous rambling? He reluctantly pulled his hand away so he could snatch a napkin from the counter and the pen in his pocket. A phone number was hastily scribbled on it, before it was scratched out and written neater. Just in case, his name was noted underneath.
“Here. Text me later. If you’re free, we could always… Go for dinner?” It also felt like the right thing to do, like it was a regular event. William seemed to agree, as his face lit up. Upon receiving the napkin, it was treated like something sacred by William, who carefully folded and placed in his wallet.
“Yeah! That’d be - I’d really like that - Bully.” That exclamation of relief shouldn’t bring a familiar tugging of heartstrings to Damien, but it did. Only that he was with Mark (and that he has a job to return to), Damien would have gladly gone wherever William was going. 
Both names were called as the drinks were finally ready. Each one was lifted, and the pair gave their parting words and a promise to arrange something as soon as William returned home. But just as Damien was about to turn and walk to the table, William leaned down enough to kiss him on the cheek, hurrying off before anything else could happen. All Damien could do was watch the larger man disappear with a wistful smile before turning to find Mark at the table.
“You’re putting the local tomatoes to shame. You okay?” Mark asked, innocently sipping his latte. It was still mostly full. The drink itself looked hot. How long had that moment actually lasted?
“I’ve got a date tonight.” Damien was so embarrassed after blurting his answer, he didn’t notice how Mark’s surprise was an act. “I started talking to a guy up at the counter and - well, we’re meeting for dinner.”
“I’m so happy for you, man. Look at you, getting out there and being ambitious! I’m sure he’ll be a great guy!” Mark grinned, letting the topic drop so the Mayor could get his head around the ‘unexpected’ event. 
While they were talking after the drinks were finished, a text arrived on Damien’s phone. Mark noticed there was a number rather than a name, but it brought a smile to Damien’s face. The Youtuber waved his hand and insisted Damien needed to ‘urgently’ answer it. As the Mayor did so, Mark noticed how the shadow that was always looming over Damien finally dissipated. At last, the malicious claws from a lifetime ago were gone, and with that, Mark’s own powers.
But what did the loss of powers matter when he was able to use them to help Dark and Wilford start a new relationship together? They could live as normal, ordinary people, just like Dark had always vowed when confronting the Actor. Today: the Actor was dead, Mark was alive, and the curse holding them all down had been broken for good.
Now, if only Celine would talk to him so they could become friends again...
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