#but it's getting harder so I posted this before my thoughts can be tainted with more leaks

[justanotherwriter140]

Kung Fu Panda 4 - The Trailer

Another really, really long discussion post.

PLOT PREDICTIONS/POTENTIAL SPOILERS AHEAD!

I know I'm late to the party. Oops!

Well, I think it's as good of a time as any to write another discussion post because what's better to write about than the Kung Fu Panda 4 trailer? Nothing, evidently, because take a wild guess what I'll be rambling about today.

The first (and possibly last—aside from the Christmas day teasers and product advertisements) Kung Fu Panda 4 trailer was posted to YouTube on December 13th, just under three months before the film's current release date (March 8th). It quickly gained mass public attention, garnering over 140 million views across all social medias on which it was released within its first day of being online. That's...utterly insane.

As an avid Kung Fu Panda fan, I'm thrilled at the attention the new film is getting; however, I'm not ignorant to the many concerns that both fans and casual viewers alike have regarding the content shown in the trailer. In this post, I want to acknowledge and discuss any and all opinions I've seen so far, both positive and negative.

Before I begin, though, I want to let it be known that this isn't a hate post. I want to be respectful and fair above anything else. I will be discussing things that I dislike in the trailer as well as things that I like, and if you don't agree, that's alright! This isn't a persuasive essay, it's an extensive ramble of personal indulgence in the terrifying freedom with which the internet presents us in today's day and age.

So, given that freedom, let's talk about the Kung Fu Panda 4 trailer! Spoilers, nitpicks, and annoyingly specific thoughts lie ahead.

My attention is immediately brought to the changes in the art style. I enjoy stylization a lot, and I think that if done well, it could work favorably when applied to the KFP franchise. The previous movies have toyed with temporary art style changes, usually in backstories and dreamscapes, all examples of which were done expertly and fit well within the respective films in which they appeared. I guess that's all to say I'm definitely on board with alternative art styles being utilized for storytelling purposes (or just because they look awesome).

With that said, though, I'm very much hoping to see the incredibly intricate painting backgrounds/landscapes make a comeback. They've always been a highlight of the films for me and I think that they're a unique detail that adds to the franchise's feel. Suffice it to say, I will be disappointed if that tradition is dropped.

I can't think of a good segue, but I want to point out a detail many fans online were discussing upon the trailer's release: Shifu's staff.

The golden band that has been wrapped around Shifu's (formerly Oogway's) staff since the second film has miraculously disappeared. This is a very odd inconsistency with Shifu's character design.

While it's a small detail, I wanted to point it out and hear some other opinions as to why the staff suddenly looks different. I'm assuming the shot hasn't been fully rendered and as a result, some of the easter eggs that the fans (including myself) like to nitpick simply haven't been added yet.

Outfit change (kind of)!

The trailer features a snippet of Po's battle with a sting ray, which could be interesting seeing as none of the previous films prominently featured any kind of marine life. I'll admit that I'm a bit skeptical about the overall importance of this battle (I'm primarily referring to the relevancy this has to the rest of the film) as the sting ray never appears again in the trailer, but I want to refrain from making snap judgments until I actually...you know...see the movie.

Something tells me this is an introductory sequence of sorts—not necessarily what the film opens with, but perhaps the first time we see Po. The hat and cape are reminiscent of KFP's iconic opening, and the bridge that Po later pins the sting ray against somewhat resembles the bridge in the first movie's dreamscape.

This frame looks cool, but I could have gone without the "Keep your surf off my turf!" bit. On a positive note, I like the paint stroke in the background, it gives a very distinct vibe and I can appreciate it.

The progression of Po's expressions in the "inner peace/dinner please" sequence is fun to watch.

On the other hand, the implications of this scene do not line up with the other movies at all, and—put bluntly—they scare me a little bit.

I fully believe that every individual will realistically have to achieve "inner peace" multiple times in their life. We are constantly changing and growing, and our understanding of ourselves and the world around us will reflect that change.

However, this is the fourth installment of this series, and when themes are repeated three times within the same franchise, they become redundant. It is a sequel's job to make sure that themes aren't repetitious and that the audience feels like they're experiencing something different each time.

Please understand that I don't mean the idea of inner peace should be completely dropped, as I think that the sudden irrelevance of inner peace in a KFP movie would stick out like a sore thumb. Even so, as things are currently, I don't think we need another movie about finding inner peace.

That all is to say Po's seeming inability to achieve even a temporary sense of inner peace in this segment is jarring. If it's a trailer-specific clip or a skit included for laughs, that's fine! But I'm sorry guys, I can't do another "Po finding inner peace" arc. I'm not strong enough.

Moving on!

Thoughts:

The portal looks awesome! Bonus points if the tendrils are made to look like bits of paper—maybe in reference to the Dragon Scroll?

Viola Davis as the Chameleon was an amazing choice, kudos to the casting director!

The lizard army looks pretty cool! I'm excited to see them in action.

As for Tai Lung's legitimate resurrection, I don't know how I feel about it. The "bringing back dead characters" trope has never been a personal favorite of mine, but I want to wait and see what the film has to offer. I understand everyone's qualms regarding this specific plot point, though, and all the ones I've seen so far are valid.

The Chameleon looks cool! I love seeing fanart of her on Tumblr, as well, all of the artists I've seen so far have given such interesting and fun interpretations of the character. I'm excited to see what she brings to the franchise!

Admittedly, I have some reservations regarding her "powers." The third film already explored the notion of stealing life force/kung fu from other kung fu masters (both alive and dead), and as many other fans have pointed out, the Chameleon's abilities seem awfully similar.

I've seen a lot of people talking about how the shadow in the frame above looks like it could belong to Shen, and I don't disagree, but my attention is more so on the fact that the Chameleon has Po's staff—maybe traveling to a foreign city with an outlaw wasn't the best idea.

As for Zhen, anything I could say about her has already been said, for better or worse. I didn't find her voice to be especially irritating in the trailer, but (in my opinion) her design is unfitting for the KFP universe. It's not bad at all, but it doesn't fit.

I can't see myself caring too deeply for her character, but this likely won't be of any consequence because—this is a theory I've seen floating around, I haven't heard anything solid to give credit to the idea—I don't think she's going to end up as the Dragon Warrior.

As for her dynamic with Po, I'm interested. While their interactions have been short and not especially telling in advertisements, it seems like they have the potential to be an entertaining duo. We shall see.

We're back to the fun frames—this looks super cool! The circular structure in the middle of the palace (?) reminds me of a tulou, which is a traditional Chinese communal home of sorts.

I'm very happy to see Li and Mr. Ping making an appearance, they had a fun dynamic in KFP3 and they each have very sentimental and meaningful relationships with Po. The frame above seems to imply that they accompany Po to the city, which has the potential to create a really fun atmosphere for the film.

This looks cool, too! The action sequences look like they're going to be fun.

Zhen's earring looks eerily similar to the architecture of the Chameleon's lair, which leads me to believe that Zhen is either working with the Chameleon at the time of the film or is a former student of the Chameleon.

With that said, I feel like the "plot twist betrayal" is incredibly obvious, but that's likely the point—the movie could very well play it off as being extremely evident (maybe even to a comical degree).

The posters of Zhen are very KFP-esque, and I appreciate the comical frequency of the posters—having so many on one wall almost overlapping one another is overkill.

Sorry, I had to.

Po and Shifu's dynamic has always been top-tier, and hopefully, KFP4 adds to the long list of awesome interactions between them.

This is a 6-second sequence comprised solely of Po choking on peach petals. Alright!

The textures on the chair are beautiful! The silk of Shifu's clothes looks wonderful, too; however, I have to nitpick (not to be genuinely critical, rather just an observation) the arrangement of Shifu's robe (?). If you reference Shifu's appearance earlier in the trailer, the robe goes over his left shoulder instead of his right.

The image above could be mirrored (inverted?) for the sake of the trailer. In the previous clip, Po was facing the right side of the screen—having Shifu facing left could be a way to relate two segments that (obviously, considering the backgrounds) aren't in the same scene.

Anyway, points for awesome weapons!

(Sorry for the bad quality, I couldn't find a great frame to pause on.)

The color palette of this frame is gorgeous, the shades work with one another very well and the way they're applied reminds me of the colors used in the first KFP movie.

I love the architecture! Interestingly enough, the designs to the far left and against the red wall in the background remind me of ancient South American compositions.

The swirling designs on this doorway (?) look very similar to the ones in the frame! While I know it's more than unlikely for there to be South American influence in a KFP movie, when I say "all of my thoughts about the KFP4 trailer," I mean all of them.

To my knowledge, the picture above is of Mayan architecture (which is often confused with Aztec and Inca). Please correct me if I'm wrong, I haven't deeply researched any of the previously mentioned empires in years.

This looks awesome. I love how the "camera" is moving, almost swinging, and how the characters are briefly disproportionated so the shot looks more dynamic.

I really like the look of this part. The color palette is fun, the animation is impressive, and the glowing chameleon trap is a new addition to the films—none of the other movies have featured traps before!

This door (?) in the background is cool-looking!

I...like the colors.

Okay, cool. WHERE ARE THE FURIOUS FIVE?

To be completely transparent, the Furious Five's absence is enormously disheartening. I'm aware that the director stated that they're all on separate missions—which I'd be fine with if the movie either utilizes a B-plot following their respective missions or somehow intertwines their missions with the overarching storyline—and that they'll "make an appearance," but...☹️

I don't see the FF as side characters that can reasonably be absent from a film with no repercussions plot-wise (and viewer-wise, depending on the audience). Each member represents a form of kung fu, and they have proven influential to Po's character throughout the series (especially Tigress, but that's neither here nor there given the context).

That all is to say I miss the Furious Five. KFP4, give me five minutes of content, it'll tide me over for the next five years. I can write so much based on a singular micro-expression, you have no idea.

The Furious Five's absence is disconcerting, but otherwise, I'm not completely turned off from the film yet. It has a subpar trailer but one could reasonably argue that all of the KFP movies had lacking trailers (purposefully so, likely for the sake of being deceptive).

Believe what you like! We won't know anything for sure until the film releases, and even then, movies are subjective (which is both a blessing and a curse).

Thank you to those who decided to deal with my erratic trailer thoughts and read this post! I know I didn't discuss the storyline/plot in much detail, but I want to hold off on doing so until the film releases.

If you're interested, all of my thoughts regarding the story (that I still stand by) can be found in my previous "really, really long" post. I refrained from discussing the storyline much in this specific post because the trailer wasn't especially telling of the overall story, and I've already expressed my opinion regarding the film's plot.

Rest assured, I'll be writing a very lengthy plot-centric post come the release of the film. I'm very excited to admire the animation and hear the iconic Hans Zimmer KFP soundtrack (because we already know it's going to be phenomenal).

To end on a positive note...

It's giving accidental renaissance.

Happy (belated) New Year and thanks for reading---I need a break. 😭

[bloop-bl00p]

Re-imagining the Extermination

TW: There’s like one image I could consider disturbing and such

Remember when back in the day before the series aired how the Exorcists were so hyped? They were this unavoidable threat looming over the heads of the characters, a reminder that if Charlie doesn't succeed in redemption, all of these characters will have to go years and years preparing themselves for a massacre and inevitably die a second time.

Then when we get to see them in the show a bit earlier than expected here how they act…

Maybe I hyped them too much.. I expected them to be fierce soldiers led by Michael or something.

The thing is, we don’t know what are the Exorcists yet, Adam said he named Vaggie (and probably the rest of the girls) but she’s still Salvadoran, which is really confusing. Hopefully, we’ll get more answers, my personal guess is that Viv is going to go with fan theories that they are humans. That can be interesting but if they are that doesn't explain why they thought themselves invincible.

I created something completely different, basing myself on multiple religious texts as always, I intend to make more posts about my rewrite of characters I drastically changed, and possibly one about Heaven. It’s gonna be long because I crammed a lot of information.

I. Why kill sinners?

Souls are powers, the more it sins, the stronger the 7 Deadly Sins get.

Hell started traditionally as a pit of fire and desolation, when The Seven Sins discovered they could get stronger through the humans, they completely reshaped Hell’s society and influenced Earth with the help of Hellborns.

Mammon is pretty much the reason why we live in a capitalistic society, as Greed is at the center of almost everything (The love for money is described as be Root of All Evil in the Bible.) So his influence on Earth was mirrored to create the Hellaverse we all know.

In Hell, Hellborns, rather than physically torture the Sinners, tempt and trap them in toxic lifestyles. Back in the day, Sinners could have access to the other Rings and indulge in a wide range of vices. Heaven noticed it and reacted immediately to prevent Lucifer’s rise in power and avoid a potential war. They came up with the Extermination and wisely decided to set this up at a very specific time.

You see, around the 16th century Lilith was expecting and she reached her 5 months of pregnancy for the first time in 6000 years. She was cursed by God after fleeing Eden, and all of her pregnancies usually end in miscarriage. Furthermore, she suffered ten times harder than any other woman.

So that's when they forced Lucifer to comply with their deals. He didn't want his wife to be in the middle of a war so he accepted. The deal essentially was that Angels could come to his kingdom once a year to kill as many people as possible, but if they dared to attack a Blue Blood he would bite back.

To diminish the amount of destruction that would be caused by the Exorcists all Sinners are confined to the Pride Ring as they are the main targets. But between us, if you’re a Hellborn and find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time you’re dead.

Royalties are the only ones spared from the massacre, they picked a relatively weak type of angel to do the dirty work so the Exorcists aren’t even remotely strong enough to kill one of the 72 Lesser Keys, only lower ranks demons and sinners.

II. The Exorcists

The Watchers:

Over the few angels sent to observe humans' expansion, a considerably large amount of them have been exposed to Lucifer’s deviant ideologies and were inspired to follow The Traitor’s ideal and defy God’s plan. 200 of them put these doctrines into motion and their Heavenly Light got tainted by one sin, Lust.

They fell in love with the women on Earth and shapeshifted to marry those they lusted after, causing the birth of wicked creatures between Celestial beings and humankind, the Nephilim. Their second sin was to reveal forbidden knowledge to be viewed as deities unleashing Chaos and wars between humans (you know when we fight to know which God is stronger/real).

God put an end to this and sent Archangels who banished these 200 Watchers to Hell. To ensure that the rest of humanity wouldn’t be corrupted by their children, God flooded the Earth-saving few humans deemed as virtuous (Noah and his family weren't the only ones.)

The Watchers that remained were ripped off a considerable amount of their powers. They got disfigured to ensure the failure of any tentative seduction, and each of them is kept on a tight leash in Heaven unable to access most parts of Heaven without authorization and supervision.

The Birth of Exorcists:

Misael grew disdain for those of their kind who rebelled against the Lord as their trust and love for the Almighty was endless.

This loyalty permitted them to become the next leader of the Watcher after the betrayal of the former chief. The Watchers, alongside them, grew all bitter toward demons and their sinful siblings, a bitterness that turned into hatred for their peers.

When Misael heard the words of a possible uprising, they proposed an annual extermination as a last resort and a way for the Watchers to pay for the sins of their siblings. Which got accepted.

Few details about Misael:

→ Miseal means normally ‘As God is’ but my thought process was that Misia in Greek means ‘hate’ and they hate demons. I just added the ‘El’ syllabus of God.

→ Their voices are surprisingly soft, a bit like Blue Diamond, it almost make you forget that they are about to slice your throat open. They have this habit of reassuring sinners saying that their suffering is coming to an end.

III. Appearance:

Exorcists are lepers and constantly in pain, they were removed from their ability to shapeshift.

Today Leprosy is curable but before modern medicine, it was considered a divine punishment since they had no treatment. There are instances in the Bible where God punishes people by turning them into a leper.

They usually wear bandages to cover their face and this isn't even near how horrible their condition can get. The entirety of their body is sick and they wear large loose clothes to cover them, below the fabric they are still covered with bandages. The halo is in reference to the Crown of Thorns of Jesus, the Romans put it on his head as a form of humiliation. The Watchers used to have normal haloes but they aren't worthy of it anymore.

They are very much recognizable in Heaven as they are the only ones wearing black, to signify their loss of purity and kinda to represent their mourning for their Fallen siblings and the souls they are taking in Hell.

During the Exterminations, they wear silver masks, and Misael wears a golden one since they are the leader. They withhold close-range weapons as a reminder that they are taking lives.

The sun in the center of their armor is a reference to God (a symbol I created for my story) it’s in reference to the Morningstar trying to overcome the Sun.

I got lazy, I haven’t drawn anything in months, so I’m probably gonna re-draw this. I forgot a few details.

IV. Details

→ Each beginning of Extermination is announced by the sounds of Seven Trumpets playing at the same time.

→ They have to make the death as quick and painless as possible.

→ A list of names and ways of identification such as pictures is given to each of the Exorcists so they know who they should approach with caution. They can die, it may not be common but it’s still a possibility. Usually, they target Overlords as their activities in Hell make people sin more and more.

→ They have no right to kill anyone belonging to the Royalty, they don't have enough powers to. Any demons they encounter on the street however must be killed regardless of their status as hellborn or sinners.

→ They can affect technology, Hell has no natural light source as it’s the only place Gods do not pay attention. During the Exterminations, the electricity is completely shut down, the only source of light is the Heaven portals which disorient the sinners because it’s blinding.

→ Exorcists are killable, but usually when faced with 12-foot soldiers you back away. While they do wear armor that completely covers them if they get hurt somehow, they’ll regenerate unless it’s an angelic steel.

The only part that isn't protected is the base of their wings so with the right weapons you could cut it. Guns are also a possibility but their wings are big enough to be used as a shield (76 feet, I did the math.)

→ It’s rare but some Exorcists lose their weapons when facing sinners who fight back.

[instructionsnotincluded]

urgh i’m sure you’re sick of hearing about it but i have no friends who watch obx and idk where else to channel my feelings 😭 I AM SO UPSET. I genuinely can’t believe they’ve done this, i was lulled into a false sense of security by the announcement for season 5 because i thought surely Rudy would hang on for one final season. I was so convinced rafe would die after his goodbye to sophia that i was distracted from the real danger (sidebar i hated that they build up that relationship just to end it in one sentence over a phone call, i really had hope after rafe telling her it was okay).

I wish they’d brought it to a close this season so badly and just given them a happy ending. The worst part is i was genuinely enjoying part 2 for the most part even with the crazy plot lines. I was hopeful we’d get some real resolution following JJs crash out with him facing up to his issues and talking it out, particularly with Kiara.

The lack of Jiara was genuinely so jarring and obvious i assumed it was intentional and would come to some sort of head wherein JJ would acknowledge how distant he had been and there would be some kind of emotional breakthrough/makeup for the couple but NO. like they really gave us nothing like the handshake when they parted ways had me screaming WHAT WAS THAT.

the death was so so badly done like obviously we would never be happy with JJs death but there were so many better ways around it, having him actively die protecting the pogues not just randomly being stabbed while standing around, having him actually get to say goodbye to them?! POPE NEVER GETTING TO SAY I LOVE YOU BACK?? and like why was he buried in the sand in fucking morocco that literally broke my heart like alone and to be forgotten and never visited in the fucking desert?? Im so angry i’ve been so excited for this season for the longest time and had so much hope based off part 1, i really felt like they’d been listening to the fans and giving us what we wanted in terms of season 1 vibes and i was so hyped to rewatch it all once i finished yesterday, but now the entire thing feels so tainted??

he suffered so much for absolutely nothing and no reason whatsoever. i feel i can’t even rewatch the parts of pt2 that i enjoyed again because they’re so tainted by the jarring energy between rudy and maddison now that i know it’s not part of the plot. it’s so glaringly obvious that none of this was planned, even if there’s some truth in them initially wanting JJ killed off there’s no way they would’ve followed through with it after seeing how much of a fan favourite he became. like they really gave bro an entire arc of suffering with no resolution other than him saving sarah then just killed him??

i feel so upset today idek what to do with myself, i can no longer enjoy any of my jj content without feeling so heartbroken. at least if they’d just had him leave or given him some form of resolution before his death the whole series wouldn’t feel so tainted… sorry for this insanely long ramble i just needed to offload this somewhere. thank god for people like you working harder than these god damn writers to produce actual good plots 😭💗

Never be sorry! We're all upset! I haven't seen any post or response defending the season, like I do really think everyone hated the ending and hated the way it went down. I've seen a lot about just wishing it had gone down different, not that he didn't die, but that it was for an actual reason. Which is a complaint I have about a lot of actual books. I'm not upset someone died, I'm just upset that it always feels pointless and makes the story feel like it should never have happened.

I was also lulled into the false sense of security with season five. I thought for sure it was because Rudy wanted to leave and they decided to give it a proper ending and not doing anything drastic with his character. Oh how I was wrong. My hope is that Rafe and Sofia are able to work through things in season five, and that they can get to a better place, because I do think they really love each other, and I do think they still do. But I guess we'll see if they force Kiara and Rafe together or not...

You can very much tell that there is a lot of tension between JJ and Kiara because there's a lot of tension between the actors. It was not hidden well at all, they barely interact with one another and if you haven't watched Season three or the first part of season four, you would never know they were supposed to be in love. If anything, it looked like they hated each other.

JJ's entire death scene and the scenes following were just piss poor. Everything about it was bad, and I think it's because everyone knew that this was going to be bad. Everyone knew this would end the show. They're literally watching and filming the end of this series and these stories and they couldn't do anything to make it better. I think it feels and looks so bad, because they felt the same way we do about it.

I'm upset too, it's been a trash week and it feels like the one thing we were looking forward to made it so much worse. It's ok to be upset, and it's ok to not want to see or read anything to do with the Pogues right now. Totally understandable. I felt the same way right after, like do I want to take a break from Audrey and JJ for a while? But I decided that JJ's still alive as long as we write him, as long as we love him, and I think we all deserve that.

[cellythefloshie]

– ao3 – ask & i’ll answer –  for recs check out my bookshelf! –  join my taglist! – 

So this, this snuck up on me a lot faster than I had anticipated. 500 of you? Following me? Crazy. It seems I have blinked and it happened so I'm going to be doing something a little different for the celebration this time - because I swear I just posted the last of my 300 follower appreciation.

Inspired by @senditcolton 's Hozier prompt list (she did such an amazing job with it and her blurbs so go check them out), I have made a prompt list of my favorite songs from a variety of artists. There are 10 songs, which means only 10 blurbs (which will probably be more along the lines of tiny fics compared to the blurbs I did for the 300-follower celebration). Headlining are my favorite lyrics, here is the Spotify playlist with all of the songs for you to enjoy.

Submit your claim for a specific lyric paired with a player (make sure to read my rules regarding who I write for before you submit). It is on. first come first serve basis for the sake of my own sanity because I know if I do more than 10 I'll still be writing them when I hit my next milestone. The list will be updated as the requests are received. *Prior to posting I shared my prompt list with some friends who wanted to assure Vince Dunn got his prompt. Therefore he will not be eligible for any prompt except for the one that has already been decided for him: Prompt 3, Can't Fight the Moonlight.

;; 500 Follower Celebration

The Night We Met - Nico Hischier I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you.

Delicate - Freddie Andersen Phone lights up my nightstand in the black, come here; you can meet me in the back.

Can't Fight the Moonlight - Vince Dunn If you think that you won't fall, well just wait until the sun goes down.

Tainted Love - Ross ColtonI've got to get away from the pain you drive into the heart of me.

So Good - Adam Lowry Do I think about the one that got away? I know his name, I think about him every day.

Boyfriend - Mat Barzal What are the chances? Everyone's dancing, and he's not with you.

I Wanna Be Yours - Brandon HagelSecrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought.

I Ain't Worried - Anthony Beauvillier I don't know what you've been told, but time is running out, no need to take it slow.

Everybody Talks - Gabe Landeskog It started with a whisper, and that was when I kissed her.

Drops of Jupiter - Dallas Star of My Choice 👀 Jake Oettinger Was it everything you wanted to find, and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?

And as always I'm going to wrap up this appreciation to shout out all of the lovely writers and readers who are such an important part of my little community! Every single one of them is talented and is just the sweetest of people so if you for some reason do not follow them already please do so.

@hagelpoint-3821 @starshine-hockey-girl @callsign-denmark @hischierdevils @wyattjohnston @laurenairay @luvmmarner @swissboyhisch @behoright @claireelle18 @midnightsnyx @snugglyducklingbrewhouse @manrocket-mo @txstars @senditcolton @equallyshaw @mp0625 @comphy-and-cozy @hoesforthecanes @puckmaidens @hockeyboysimagines @stlbluesbrat21 @iamveryborrrreddd

And I know I probably missed A LOT of people, so please be sure to check out @cellysbookshelf because I do my best to reblog all of the wonderful fics I read from this community that I couldn't be happier to be a part of.

[handsofred]

My current WIP's.

So I saw a post at some point showing the current WIPs that people have and those that they have posted. I kind of liked the idea so I thought that I would do the same.

Currently writing and have posted to AO3:

Signal in the sky - Steter (8/?) - Slow build, bad friend Scott McCall, Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, The Hales don't live in BH, Good friend Jackson, Emissary Stiles, The Hales all live, Peter didn't bite Scott, As Stiles spoke and recounted everything to the vet, Stiles thought it would be harder to tell it, but the words flowed easily as he described everything the best he could, from the letter he had gotten to the pack meeting before coming here. The more Stiles thought about it, the more he was feeling better, the weight was lifting higher off his shoulders as he breathed out freely. It felt like it was a second chance for him, like this had been the signal he had been waiting for in a long time.

I'm growing roots in the idea of you - Sterek (2/?) - Slow build, Emissary Stiles, Single father Derek, Fisherman Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Derek deserves nice things, ‘’Join the Emissary program they said, it would be fun they said. You’ll get assigned to California they said.’’ Stiles grumbled beneath his breath as he shifted on his feet. His hands were pressed as far and as deep as they could get in the large puffy jacket he was wearing, his eyes moving back and forth as he watches the bag carousal go round and around, bringing bags out to everyone but himself.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum - If you want peace, prepare for war - Sterek (16/?) - Female Stiles Stilinski, Tribal AU, Alpha Derek Hale, Good Peter Hale, Human Stiles, Stiles becomes pack, Warrior Stiles, Bad Scott McCall, Trigger warnings - loss of child, Fast asleep, the Alpha watched her eyes flicker under their lids with dream. Her mouth twisting down as her skin pulled around three large scars. From just above her left brow to mid cheek, he takes in the old wound, skin raised and jagged like claws. A war wound.

Scars and stripes - Sterek (10/?) - Single parent Derek, Soldier Stiles, Injured Stiles, Stiles has PTSD, Human AU, Alive Hales, Derek take cares of Stiles, Trigger warnings - Suicide attempt, Slow build He wished he could say that, he first saw him again at the school reunion he had gone back too, ten years after they had left high school, but in truth...it wasn't, and even so...it wasn't him who noticed him sat there, it was his daughter.

The Tattooed King - Steter (1/?) - King Stiles, King Peter, Human Stiles, Fae Stiles, Magical Stiles, Alpha Peter, Wolf Peter, Slow build, curses, warrior Stiles, Words whispered of pale skin and dark ink. They spoke of curses and lore, trailing through the night. Words spoke of a mighty king, one who slayed every time. They spoke of a wrath so strong that even his own men were afraid of him. Words spoke of a predator who hunted and captured in every step, of a king that was feared and loved together. Words spoke of a cold tune, echoing through colder hallways of night. They speak of a soul tainted and stained with the dead

Currently writing but have not posted.

Unpredictable - Sterek, - told from Scott's pov, time travel, Scott tries to change everything, blames Stiles for everything that has happened including the bite.

City of Shadows - Peter/Chris/Stiles. - Stiles can see the dead, Dead Laura Hale, Alive Derek,

If there's anything I've learned/ Flowers - Steter, Stiles/Chris briefly - Stiles is pushed out the pack, female Stiles, magic Stiles, Stiles gets the bite, slow build Steter,

It will never be the way it was - Unknown pairing - Stiles is in therapy, Trigger warning - talk of suicide and attempts,

Holding out for a hero - Steter - Stiles leaves Beacon Hills, Good friend Jackson, Bad pack, Bad Sheriff Stilinski, Chris Arget is the hero, Stiles gets attacked, Alpha Peter, Sane Peter Hale,

[shunshuntaiga]

I've missed you too, dear. 💕 Eh, it's been a hectic time in my life, but things are better now. How about you? So sorry to hear you were ill!! But i'm glad you're doing better. <33 And oooh, fire hair!! That's awesome, i bet. I remember how fun it was to have my hair bright orange. Enjoy it!! Doing weird stuff to your hair it's always exciting. My life stuff also kind of put a damper on my writing, which is a shame, because we really had some tasty things cooking there. :))) But like you said, it's always time to get back into it. And i SAAAWWW you amazing drawings. I am looking (dis)respectfully. 👀 Fucking Aure and his tramp stamp lmfaoooooo. Lmfaooo, that would be hilarious!! :))) Especially during the early days of their friendship. S1 Aureliano would think "this fucking dumbass" a lot, so poor Spadino would just have to swallow his indignation because there is no way he is letting this fucker know they are soulmates. And i've been thinking a little more about it... if this is s1, i think Aurelia could figure it out during That Scene in ep 9. Maybe it's like, you can shield your thoughts from your soulmates, but it takes a little bit of active concentration, and the more intense the thoughts are, the harder it gets. So it would make sense for Spadi to usually be able to shield himself, especially if there are other people around. But during that scene it's just the two of them and Spadino's life is basically crumbling before his eyes, while he's helpless to stop it. So in the same breath Aureliano ruins his relationship with both, his best friend and his soulmate. Lmfaooo, you're a genius!!! I LOVE that!! Maybe it can be both. Like, Spadino makes a game out of trying to make Aureliano blush or sth. He starts with the dirtiest of thought he can think of, but they don't seem to have much outward effect on Aurelia (this himbo just assumes his lady soulmate is into some reaally kinky shit, and after an initial freakout, he just rolls with it becuase why not??). But once Spadino accidentally thinks really loudly a compliment or sth, and he sees Aureliano freeze from the corner of his eye. And that's how he realizes that since not a lot of people give Aurelia genuine compliments, when someone does it usually makes his brain stop working for a little while. For example: Spadino: your eyes are really pretty and when you smile it light up the whole room i wish you would do it more often Aureliano: *nearly crashes the car* *aurelia.exe has stopped working* Lele in the backseat: *confused af until he figures it out too and starts rolling his eyes and low key smirking at Spadi's antics*

Btw, completely new au here, but i just saw a text post that screams post s3 finale angst, just.... bear with me, because this kind of goes off the rails. So.. Magic! Hear me OUT!! Just a little bit of it. Old spells or some shit, blood magic, rituals, etc. Just enough for Spadi to be able to bring back Aurelia using things he has learned as a child from the women of his family (magic can be regarded as a women thing too, which would have alienated Spadi from the men of his family even more, but that's a plotline for another ask i think). But the plot twist is, the spell/whatever does not actually bring people back, but kind of... recreates/revives them using the memories of the one who casts it. And since memories and perceptions are subjective, the Aurelia that comes back seems to be alright to Spadi, but everyone else can feel something is off. Nadia and Fabio and even Angelica can tell that the Aureliano that drove in that junkyard to save Spadi is not the same that walked out. And idk from here, yada yada, etc, Some Actual Plot-- as Spadi's memories shift and alter so does the Aureliano who came back. So in the end Spadino has to choose between killing him or letting him slowly deteriorate while at the same time tainting everyone's memories of the real Aureliano. And really, that's no choice at all. So in the end Spadi has to kill him, and instead of letting someone else do it, he does it himself. He owes his best friend and the love of his life at least that much, after all.

Okay! I am here and (somewhat) ready to answer this ask, because wooo boy when I first read it I think my brain shut off, and I just went "nope" lol

I have been able to get back into some writing, however. Different writing lol. The ground-hog day fic is still happening! I swear! But my friend got me really into stranger things and Steddie in particular and uh, I got distracted lol.

Gosh yes though!! I love the idea that Spadi turns it into a game to make Aure blush! And Lele is so sick of them lol

And nice words would break our sweet boy🥺 his family is just so terrible that he's probably never heard a kind word that didn't come back to bite him somehow. So Spadi's honest love for him would just about make him cry.

Imagine that, Aurelia going through a shitty situation and he just feels like breaking, and Spadi's words are suddenly in his head, whispering how strong he is and how he's going make things right for Aurelia, and that it's okay to just let it go for bit (a little orville peck, c'mon baby cry) and Aurelia just wishes nothing more than for his soulmate to hold him so he can just be soft and let them do all the heavy lifting.

....hmm this man is a sub in this one lol sure let's go with that. I like to see powerful men be soft and submissive.

And you. You! You are a brilliant and horrible little creature! (Affectionate)

Of course Spadi would use magic to bring him back!! And it only being a hollow shell of who he once was is so, so painful.

Nadia and Flavio would recognize it the most of course, having known him the longest. It would just be little things at first, because they wouldn't want it to be true. They would ignore changes in him as just trauma changing a person. But deep down they'd know.

And maybe that sort of magic is forbidden? Because of how it changes the people you bring back. And maybe Ange would try to bring it up to Spadi because she knows hes capable of it, but of course he'd deny it.

And then it would blow up in a massive fight between them all.

BUT

You want angst anon? I got angst.

Aurelia asks Spadi to kill him.

Because somewhere deep inside, he knows he's not right, he shouldn't be alive, and he knows it. And seeing Spadi and Nadia and his friends struggle with this new, strange, not-him version of himself is too much for this Aurelia to bare. So he tells Spadino to do it, and kisses his forehead before Spadi has to put a bullet in him Ol' Yeller style.

All that being said, while I love a good angsty fic, I will definitely not be writing this one anon lol. My passion lies truly with writing happy endings and this one makes me want to cry a bit too much.

But it's still very fun to play in this space

[smireyac]

new year, same post

so... 2022 huh?

i didn't even write a reflection post last year (well i tried but i never finished writing it) which i'm kinda really sad about because i really like having these snapshots of where i am at in my life every year... and i feel like i'm missing a year! because i am! so while i can't do a whole reflection of 2021, i can do my best and that's the best anyone can do

so 2021 was the start, crawling out of the hellscape that was 2020... in terms of overall quality, 2021 was a major improvement from the previous year. to make things easier, first i'll go thru what i actually accomplished on my list of goals i made at the end of 2020:

☑️ read new books: my goal was 10 and i read 8, three of which were comics/graphic novels and one was a road trip guide book? so technically i read more than before

☑️ watch new shows/movies: i made a letterboxd to keep track of what i watched instead of the notebook idea i had and i watched 48 movies/tv shows !!! wowie that's pretty good i never counted that out b4 :D

☑️ listen to new music: my spotify wrapped had very much different music than previous years so i did the dang thing too ...it uh... got flooded by OM music cuz i had a phase in the summer but other than that its all pretty diverse !

☑️ eat new food: i had kbbq for the first time in 2021 so i think that counts?

☑️ go on a road trip/visit some place ive never been before/go to a club: so i planned a pretty spontaneous trip to LA cuz i saw an ad on Instagram for a city pop night at a club in DTLA... i thought it was a rare thing (turns out it ain't lol) so i got my friends to go and it was really fun and i knocked these 3 things out in one go (tho the road trip one is a little ehh bc we didn't make any stops, we just drove ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) bc i've never been to little tokyo and it was in a club! so check!!

so as far as goals go that's pretty good! other notable highlights of the year include:

⭐ i passed my drivers test (after failing the first time lol) and got a car that i love so dang much!

⭐ tried dating (the first time) and it didn't get far lol (that's on me)

⭐ karaoke night after not seeing people in person for over a year

⭐ played d&d in-person again finally

⭐ HELLA MEGA TOUR!! THAT WAS TIGHT AF 10/10 would recommend

⭐ saw lindsay and kaveh at a book signing event that was pretty cool !! (still have to read the book lol;;)

so yeah ! it was pretty great, all things considered... i think around this time last year covid cases were surging and things were feeling bad again so my perspective of the year was tainted by that cloud but looking back, i think i had a pretty good run...

i had made another, separate doc as a kinda goal list ? but i never finished it either lmao but i did put 3 things on it:

🌠 read more (surprise surprise)

🌠 write something

🌠 join a club at school

i said 2021 would be the year of new and i think i accomplished that

SO 2022 HUH??

thats what this whole thing was supposed to be about lol

lotta stuff happened... started off strong by getting covid (lol), went to big bear for the first time, technically saw snow (on the ground) for the first time, saw remi TWICE in ONE YEAR, tried dating again (still didn't get very far), saw ORI AGAIN FINALLY, hung out with pals A LOT, ate good food, got really (back) into comics this year??, worked full time at the library this summer, got over my stupid crush FINALLY, went to 3 conventions - 1 of which being COMIC CON... anD OH YEAH I GOT PROMOTED!! pretty accomplished i would say

as far as my goals from last year i actually accomplished something!! and hey 2 outta 3 ain't bad ;^)

i reached my reading goal with 13/12 !! granted 5 of them were graphic novels again but i stuck with my book club (kinda;;) and read some stuff!! i started a lot more books than i finished this year but i want to push myself harder next year (this year)!! my want-to-read list on GoodReads is 500+ and that hasn't even been updated recently!! i gotta step my game up man,, i think i decided i want to try to be an editor someday so i gotta go for it!!

did i write something this year??? in fact i fucking did!! i wrote fanfiction even!! something i srsly never thought i would actually accomplish... and i started a first real draft for J+M and got thru most of the first "season" of that!! so that's cool!! i wanna write more!! i found this writing tracker like halfway thru the year and was trying to add to it retroactively but it was hard so i don't know exactly how many words i wrote this year BUT it's more than 40k!! so WOW!! I'll keep better track this year so we can know fr fr

if 2021 was the year trying new things, 2022 seemed to be the year of getting used to the new normal bc surprise!! covid is still around!! but ig it'll be endemic now instead of a pandemic bc we couldn't fucking eradicate it 🙄 whatever...

the last couple months of 2022 kinda painted the whole year a somber color but looking back, i can see that i had a really good time for the most part... i hope 2023 will be nice :^)

SO... GOALS:

🎆 read more!! let's keep the ball rolling! 12 more!! once a month!!! and i'm not gonna add comics unless i've read a real book with words first!!!!

🎆 write more!! no goals let's just see what happens :^) i hope that maybe some fandom interaction will motivate me bc i love attention and praise!!! also my secret writing project 👀

🎆 apply to transfer to university next year!! this was supposed to happen this year but... shit happened yk

🎆 do stuff with friends!! gotta keep it up bb: NYC, hot springs, see snow, MKE??, LA

🎆 make new friends?? perhaps??? 👀 idk!!!

i will end this post with all the movies i'm super fucking pumped to see this year: M3GAN, the mario movie, the D&D movie, the BARBIE movie!!, new transformers movie??, blue beetle movie, SPIDERVERSE MOVIE!!!!!!!!!

it'll be a good year for me for movies ❤️

here's to 2023!! 🥂

[atzsslut]

「3:02 PM」 → In which your boyfriend, Mark Lee, has you sit on his face while you’re busy reading a book. Or, at least, trying to. | smut

warnings | fem/afab reader, cunnilingus ofc, reader is a year younger than mark, slight nipple play, mark loves having you sit on his face, mark’s also a little shit but you love him :)

note | ik ik i’ve been obsessed but this is CHILD mark with the whole eyebrow piercing, white shirt, blue jeans, and short black hair :)

Your legs squirmed, kneeled against the sides of a pillow while your boyfriend, Mark, had his head right in the middle, hands clutched around your thighs, while his lips were right on your clit.

You were softly reading out the lines of a book you were using for one of the sources in your research paper, loud enough for yourself to comprehend and just clear enough for Mark to hear incase you stopped. Usually, you’d have a pen and post-its to note parts you thought were the most relevant to your investigation.

But you had a feeling that you had to re-read some of the pages after this was done.

The situation was unfathomable—or unhinged, as you liked to say. It was the middle of the day, and just because the two of you didn’t have any classes, Mark decided it would be a good idea to have you do your research in his dorm.

And yes, just as you thought, he also made a terrible joke about what kind of “research” he would be doing on you.

You didn’t know if you laughed out of courtesy, or if your now three-month long boyfriend’s humor was rubbing off a bit too much on you. Nonetheless, he was making you feel good and you were losing concentration.

You vividly still remember how you met Mark. It was when you were a sophomore and he was a junior, and you had made friends with one of his younger friends (your age), Jeno. Undoubtedly so, there was a little bit of an attraction between you and Mark, and Jeno sensed it too. But nothing happened until recently, Mark being a senior and you a junior.

It was three months ago, another memory you vividly remember. Jeno had gotten impatient from all the back and forth flirting, and ended up physically and mentally pushing Mark to ask you out to be his girlfriend.

Your relationship with him progressed a bit faster than both of you would’ve thought, but the whole “please, i’d love for you to sit on my face” confession from Mark only came last month.

It wasn’t embarrassing for you at this point to do so, especially after finding out how much he enjoyed it. At times, you think he adores it more than you. But given the situation, and it’s timing, you felt extremely flustered.

There was a very thin sheen of sweat covering your skin from the sun coming in through the window, but you couldn’t really blame the temperature since it was extremely cold.

The February weather had no effect on why you were flushed.

What made you feel rather baffled was the thought of your arousal probably pooling around Mark’s lips, tainting it in ways that made him devour you more, and how his tongue lapped every single drop.

For a brief second, you gasped when you felt him suck harder on your clit,

“Why’d you stop reading?” he asked, sounding more like whdustprhdin than actual words. Nevertheless, you understood.

“M-Mark, why do I have to read this now? Why not after… after you’re done?”

“Mmm..” the vibrations of his vocal wondering made you slightly hiss, “Nah. I like this.”

“Mark—oh my god.” you were cut off by his sudden move to lick a stripe from your untouched hole to your bud of nerves, making you clench around nothing.

Again, for one last time, in a muffled voice, your boyfriend said “Don’t stop reading, babe.”

Which really just meant “Don’t stop reading so that I can know how many times I make you feel good because you’ll either pause, gasp, shake, or moan.”

You continued on to where you stopped, all the while trying to guess where exactly you did stop, and softly reading aloud to yourself like before.

But Mark was getting ballsy. And you were the subject receiving all these little moves to make you cum.

Continuing to pay attention to your clit, he was beginning to constantly suck, much different than before when he was only gently lapping at it—when he was being kind with his actions.

The feeling was sending butterflies all around the insides of your body, a familiar knot forming in your abdomen because of the pleasure. Not only was he paying much needed attention to your clit, but Mark always valued the power of touch.

His hands that were merely clutching your thighs before were now stroking back and forth, the tips of his fingers grazing your bare legs. It tickled only a little bit, but the sensations were undeniably adding onto his lips around your pussy.

Though your top was still on, your bra was off and somewhere on the floor, or perhaps the edge of the bed, and the cool air was only affecting your tits, the nubs much more sensitive than before.

It seemed like he had it all planned, especially when he didn’t turn the heater on. You’re sure that when you instigate him about that later, he’d only shrug and say his Canadian-ness makes him not need a heater.

You were facing the headboard, so your knees were on either side of Mark’s head, and you made sure to not close them or shake too much because you didn’t want to hurt him. But, fuck, he was making it hard for you not physically cave.

Without even looking, while one hand still grazed your thighs, one reached under your shirt, making your own hands clench your book harder while you tried your best to read.

As if he remembered every inch if your body, he got his left hand around your right breast quite easily, using his palm to cup it, and thumb to play with your nipple. Side to side, he rubbed it gently, just enough to make you more sensitive.

The overwhelming attention to the different parts of your body were sending you into overdrive, and you were even impressed with yourself that you could still manage to read.

But as actually thought about how amazing everything felt, it didn’t help for you to look down at Mark and see how he had his eyes right on you, obviously checking to see how you were getting affected by him.

His eyebrow piercing, which you went with him when he was getting it, was right at your view, while your own eyebrows were knitted as you stopped reading altogether, your pleasured sounds filling Mark’s ears as you tried to keep your mouth closed.

But being able to see the pretty expression you usually made when you were close was just enough for Mark to work even harder, now moving his right hand to to join his left at playing with your tits.

The book was clenched in your right hand that was now pushing against the sheets, the left in his hair, fingers laced in the slightly coarse texture (though, getting softer now that he occasionally used your conditioner).

It was getting too much.

You were shaking too much.

Your held in whimpers were too much.

And Mark’s complete concentration to make you cum was too. Fucking. Much.

In a matter of seconds, you reached your orgasm with a held back moan, only choppy, restrained breaths coming out of your parted lips. Mark could see from how you had your eyes closed, hands having moved away from him and the book, now pushing against the space that was left on the pillow right above his head.

And as quickly as you came, you found yourself needing to calm down after Mark’s elongated indulgence to the arousal in between your thighs. You let him prolong your orgasm just a bit more, licking your core like he couldn’t afford to not drink up all of your arousal. He never failed to remind you how hot he was when he did that.

When Mark tapped your thighs, it meant he was satisfied with himself. You got off him and sat against the headboard, conveniently finding your underwear almost falling off the edge of the bed.

As you slipped it on, you grabbed the book and breathed out one last time to relax, looking at your boyfriend who was now sitting up on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you.” you spoke in gratitude, actually needing everything you just experienced because of the stress uni was giving you.

“It’s always my pleasure.” he replied. Though he was facing the other way, you could feel that he was smiling. “So,”

You hear Mark ponder, turning your body to where he was. He was supposed to be going off to the bathroom to clean himself up, but it seemed that he had a further motive to rile you up even more after having himself in between your thighs.

“Hm?” you wonder aloud, curious about what he would say or ask, your hands still holding the book you were “reading” on your lap.

He only turned his head enough to be able to look at you directly, chin almost touching his shoulder, with one hand, he swiped his thumb over one side of his arousal-coated lips.

He could see you tentatively watching, a bit of shock in your eyes, chuckling on the inside while he still stared back at you, and kind of kissed the pad of his thumb, the sound of him sucking on it rather prominent. It made you suck in a breath, he could hear just as easily.

Putting that hand away, he continued on with his vocal thoughts like you were anticipating. Of course, now that he had flustered you out of any more words, he asked you with a slight smirk;

“Care to tell me what the book was about?”

[neochan]

GENRE | smut, idolverse!

WARNINGS | smut

WC | 2.6k +

A.N | this is a repost of my older work. i hope you enjoy it <3

You could still hear the unintelligible screaming of thousands of fans as the boys filtered off the stage and into the greenroom. Another successful concert in the long string of tour stops. You couldn’t even remember what state you were in because the days of traveling, unpacking, setting up, and doing it all again the next day ran together.

The boys were dripping sweat, immediately grabbing bottles of water and towels to wipe themselves off. They had worked harder than normal today since during one of the sets the microphone cut out and they had to perform acapella. Someone was getting fired for that.

Taeyong flopped onto the leather couch dominating the center of the room, water in one hand, phone in the other. “People are already uploading photos.” He outstretches his arm so the others could view the pictures pulled up on his screen.

“Johnny you look ridiculous,” you point out, laughing as a fan had caught Johnny in the act of wildly waving his light stick.

“I was having a good time, okay?” He chuckles and walks into the dressing rooms to change out of his stage outfit. Half of the group filtered out to change and half stayed to peruse through the gifts left by venue staff and play on their phones until told otherwise.

You were wondering where Hyuck was when you heard his voice from the hallway. He saunters in and gives you a kiss on the cheek, “Enjoy the show?” His golden skin was tainted pink, hair matted to his forehead by the sweat that was trickling down the side of his face. He grabbed his shirt and lifted it to swipe at his face, revealing his cute tummy. You had to resist the urge to poke it.

“I enjoyed hearing thousands of pretty fans scream your name” You give him a smirk knowing that he hates when you downplay your relationship.

He nudges you with his shoulder, “You know I meant the songs,” his doe eyes look into yours, his long lashes brushing against his cheek when he blinked “Besides, you know I love you and only you.”

Mark began to nervously giggle in the corner while Doyoung made fake gagging noises from the vanity he sat at. “Oh, shut up.” You say, throwing empty water bottles at the two, “And hurry up I wanna go swimming before it gets too late.”

The ride home was peaceful once the swarms of fans cleared a path for the bus. Per the managers request you slouched down in your seat so know one could see you through the window. It didn’t make much sense because the windows were tinted, but Haechan had to argue for his life to allow them to let you tag along on the tour, so you didn’t question them. Once you were on the road, you sat back up and snuggled close to Haechans side. He rested his hand on your thigh, absentmindedly stroking you with his thumb. His head leaned back against the seat, eyes closed, listening to music. It was so loud you could almost make out the words but you didn’t say anything – you let him stay in his post concert utopia for the whole trip.

The hotel was about an hour away from the venue so that no one would find them, and they’d be closer to their next destination. It was nicer than the others because it actually had a pool. You and Haechan made an agreement to go swimming after the concert, and you couldn’t wait. The staff also rented more rooms, so instead of four people to a bed, it was just you and Haechan.

After checking in everyone filtered off to their rooms leaving the both of you to freely do whatever you wanted - within reason of course. You both got changed, your gaze admiring the hard lines of Haechans back. “Don’t stare.” He blushed, wrapping a towel around his upper body.

You pulled on your bikini which made Haechan go silent. You specifically picked this one because it brought out your skin tone well, and cupped your features beautifully. “Now who’s staring?”

It never failed. The butterfly feeling you got in the pit of your stomach when Haechan watched you with loving eyes. You wrapped a towel around your waist, allowing Haechans eyes to roam the tops of your breasts, peeking out from the almost too small bathing suit.

His cheeks turned pink once he noticed he was caught, “Let’s go”.

The hallways were quiet since it was almost midnight, so you wordlessly made your way down the stairs and out into the night air. It had grown considerably cooler than when guys first arrived that morning, but the sky made up for it. Pretty stars pricked the vast expanse of dark blue and black infinity. You could see the moon peaking out from behind a single cloud, casting a shadowed glow on Haechans honey skin.

The gate was closed when you walked up to it so you stopped to read, “Aw man, the pool closed an hour ago,” You set your lips in a pout, “no wonder the lights weren’t on.”

“Hey it’s okay, no lights, no cameras, they probably wont even notice we’re here if we keep quiet.” He moves closer to you, eyebrows raised expectant for an answer.

You hesitated wondering if you really could pull it off, after all you’d been looking forward to this for the whole day, “I don’t wanna get in trouble..”

“You said you wanted to swim and I’m going to make sure that happens,” He gets down on one knee, “step on my leg, I'm gonna help you jump the fence.”

He boots you over, and grabs your arms to help lower you on the other side, but his hand slips and his nails dig into your shoulder. “Ow, fuck.” You wince rubbing the spot he scratched.

“Sorry, sorry” He says giggling, jumping the fence with such quietness and ease that it looked unreal. “Come on, dare you to do a canon ball!?”

He ran ahead throwing his towel on one of the pool chairs and jumping in the water. You cringe away from the loud slap his body hitting the water made. You walk slowly to the chair, deeply inhaling the addictive chlorine scent.

He finally stands up waist deep in the water and pushes his hair back. The blue water reflected against him, making his skin sparkle. “Come into the water y/n” he splashed some water into your general direction, but not enough to touch you.

“Okay, Okay.” You drop the towel and slip into the water. It was cold. Really cold. You gasp and recoil away, but not fast enough, because Haechan has wrapped his arms around you and started carrying you towards the deep end. You struggle a bit in his grip but his arms provide an iron cage that you can’t get out of. “Haechan let me go!”

He presses a warm kiss to the back on your neck but doesn’t comply with your wishes, instead making a curve and bringing you towards the underwater benches. He fixes his hold on you so that now he’s carrying you bridal style. You stare up at him, water droplets falling off his chin. His eyes were already red from the chlorine and you hoped that it cleared up by tomorrow nights concert. His plush lips sat in a pout, strong jaw set. He was so very pretty; and all yours. You smiled to yourself, deciding to keep that image locked away in your memory forever.

Once he gets to the benches he sets you down and glides in beside you. “You know It’s colder than I thought it was going to be.” He lifts a hand and sheepishly rubs the back of heck, “and you look way hotter in that bikini than I thought you would.”

“I don’t know if that’s supposed to be a dig or a compliment.” You scoot closer to him so that your thighs were pressed against each other. Finding his hand underwater, you intertwine your fingers with his own.

“A compliment babe.” He chuckles and slouches in the water so that only his head sat above it. You both sit there for a moment until it becomes too cold to sit still.

“Well I’m going to put it to use and go swim.” You push off from the cement and paddle around. The only way to stay slightly warm was to keep moving. Haechan watched you, eyes crinkled in a smile, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It was fun to watch you play in the water but the bathing suit was making him think of other things you two could be doing.

And that was how it stayed. Haechan watching while you performed for him.

A while had passed, the calm exterior of the pool getting to you, making you drowsy. The cold blue water washed over your hands while you gently skimmed the surface, making your way over to where Haechan was. You hummed a short tune under your breath, trying to keep yourself distracted. it was close to one in the morning now, but Haechan still sat on the bench, slightly shivering from the brisk air, hands gripping his thighs under the water while his mind wandered far away from the present.

“Watcha thinkin’ about” you ask, moving closer to him, hoping to catch some lingering body warmth.

“Fucking you ,” he moved off the seat and dove under the surface, only leaving small ripples in his wake. You stand there for a second wonder how he could be so blunt, so forward in his desires; he was never like this.

He swam a single circle around your body before popping up in front of you, giving you a mini heart attack. He pushes you back against the tiled walls, “I’ve spent the last hour thinking about fucking you. Thinking about how pretty you’d sound.” His head dips down to kiss along your collarbone, and your hands grab the back of neck, holding him there while his tongue sucked bruises into your tender skin. His hands grazed the bare skin of your arms, giving you goosebumps.

He moaned into the side of your neck, biting and sucking away, wanting you to yearn for him like he did for you. He lifted his head so that his mouth hung over yours, his small puffs of breath fanning over your face while he tests the waters. “Can I kiss you?”

Without giving him an answer you pull him closer by the roots of his hair. His kissing was messy and sweet, and while your tongues moved together, his hips began rubbing circles against you, trying to gain some friction in the cool water. Small heavy breaths were the only sound you could hear, aside from the occasional splash as Haechan moved restlessly.

Your hand wandered down his chest and below the surface to where you could feel him straining against his shorts. You began to stroke him over the fabric, his hips pushing against your touch. He broke the kiss to watch as you peeled down the elastic from his hips, his cock freed from the restricting material of his swim shorts. You watched him twitch slightly as the cold water met his length.

“You can’t make any noise.” You place a single finger against his lips.

“No promises.” He whispers, a devilish smirk breaking way on his face. His hands caress you thighs, pushing your bottoms to the side. The cold water hit you, making you gasp and push into Haechan who just whimpers against your touch.

He tried to stay quiet, only soft grunts between gritted teeth and muffled moans as his hips pushed into your own. The water created resistance but it just enhanced how good he was feeling. He hurriedly grabs at your legs, pulling them up so that they sat around his waist. Your back dragged up the tiled walls, scraping your tender skin, but you could only focus on Haechans cock thrusting deeply in and out of you. He stared longingly into your eyes, filling you up completely, wanting to savor the way they fluttered in the back of your head.

“You love the way I fill you up huh?” He groans into your ear, a hand falling forward to grip the cement ledge of the pool.

You couldn’t respond without fear of moaning so you nod your head wildly. He began to bite and suck at your collarbone, pushing you closer to the edge. Looking down he sees your nipples, erect, poking through the wet fabric of your bathing suit. His eyes grow wide, hips stuttering into you. Fuck you were hot.

“Haechannie, I think I’m going to come.” You squeezed your eyes shut trying to focus on the feeling coiling in your stomach.

“Not yet.” He growls, hands moving to pin your wrists against the cement ledge, “Hold it princess, I know you can.” The water began to slosh around faster as Haechan thrusted harder into you. The sound was so loud its no wonder you didn’t hear the keys jangling against the hip of the guard making his way towards you two.

“Hey!,” he shouts running towards you, “The pool is closed! Get out! Are you two-” He didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as you and Haechan spring up out of fear and take off. It was easy to push yourself up onto the pool deck. The guard made the mistake of following you two and leaving the gate unattended. You and Haechan ran out, giggling, making your way back into the hotel. You didn’t stop until you got into the room and slammed the door behind you.

With your heart hammering in your chest you lean against the dark cherry wood . “Holy fuck we could’ve gotten in serious trouble.” You gasp out, clutching a hand against your wet bathing suit top.

“Babe we’ll be gone by morning, no one is gonna know.” Haechan paces in front of you trying to catch his breath. His shorts hung dangerously low on his hips, it was miracle he got them up in time.

“We’re so banned from this hotel.” A knock on the door makes you jump away from it, the worst of punishment's filling your mind. What were they going to do? They couldn’t arrest you, could they?

Haechan walks forward and turns the knob slowly, revealing a sleepy Doyoung. His oversized t-shirt hung off one shoulder showing off his gaunt collarbone. He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What do you want Doie?” you ask softly.

“How was getting chased by the guard?” he gives a sleepy chuckle, still half in his dreams.

“How did you-,” A look of realization hits Haechan, “You reported us?” He whined, pushing Doyoungs bare shoulder so that he stumbled back.

“Sound travels over water dumbasses and you guys were loud, I was trying to sleep!” Protesting, he pushes Haechans wet shoulder back.

“Well, now we’re going to be twice as loud.” Haechan slams the door in Doyoungs face and grabs you, throwing you on the bed. You give a squeal, and hear Doyoungs fist hit the door.

“I swear I’ll make a noise complaint.” He sounded more irritated than sleepy now.

“Go ahead, you’re just mad I’m getting laid and you aren't.” You playfully slap Haechans arm, but he nips at your hand. The other side of the door grows silent, Doyoung either going to report you two, or going back to his room defeated.

“Shall we pick up where we left off princess?”

[oops-aquarius]

tainted kisses

summary: steve needs some relaxation, which you provide to him

warnings: smut (!!!!), praise kink, slight degradation kink, a little bit of angst cuz a hoe is sad, oral fixation (duh), slight dom/sub dynamics (?), mentions of sadness/depression, tiny mommy kink (like barely there)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

word count: 2.2k

note(s): not edited well at all, also i used a prompt generator to get the promt i used (which is below !!)

prompt: “baths or water (tubs or jacuzzis; hot springs; water houses or steam rooms; the ocean; swimming pools.”

kink: “Oral fixation or fetishization (lips, tongue, or whole mouth; french-kissing; licking; oral displays using food or beer bottles; smoking cigarettes, cigars, or pipes; biting or chewing one's lip(s))”

--

***this is post-endgame except nobody died, cause im a hoe for all of the avengers***

Steve never realized how much he liked things in his mouth. Not always in a sexual way, at least not until after fighting Thanos.

After fighting for so long, bottling up his emotions was not at all how Steve needed to cope. He tried the yoga and meditation route Wanda had so kindly suggested. Yeah, after one session of hot yoga, Steve decided that it wasn't going to happen. Tony, obviously, suggested sex. Said something about it being a “healing experience for the soul”. That’s bullshit were Steve’s first thoughts when that came out of his mouth. Bucky told him to get some goats and raved about how therapeutic it was to raise them. But Steve could barely take care of himself, how would he even take care of a goat? Steve felt a hot sense of hopelessness burn against the back of his eyes as he sat on the floor of his bedroom, back pressed against the adjoined bathroom door.

“Steve?” A soft knock came from the front door. He took his thumb away from his mouth, he had resorted to subconsciously nibbling on the tip of it. Pulling himself off the door and towards the voice, he rubbed his tear-stricken cheeks in attempts to clean himself up a bit before seeing you.

“One sec, Y/N/N.”

When he opened the door, your face softened a bit before the smile that Steve, secretly, loved so much dropped off your face completely. “Stevie, what happened?”

Stevie, a nickname he hated for his entire life. A name that reminded him of the days before the super solider serum where he was a little guy getting beaten up on the streets of Brooklyn. Stevie, a nickname he loved hearing from your caring voice. Nobody else’s. 

“Just tired, Y/N” he sighed, “so,so tired.”

“Stevie,” your voice caught at the back of your throat. Seeing him in so much pain made your life turn upside down. He doesn't deserve to be in pain. “ S’there anything I can do to make you feel better?”

“Just stay with me? Please?”

You took him back into his bed and sat with him, just talking about life until his breathing turned back to normal and he seemed partially-okay. 

“Do you want to take a bath?” you asked, still stroking the blonde strands of his hair.

“Are you saying I smell?” He took his face out of the crook of your shoulder, feigning a look of hurt.

“No, punk, I meant to relax. You seemed pretty shaken up and I just wanted to help. I mean, that’s what I do when I feel down, relax in a bat-”

He cuts you off, “I appreciate it. Really, Y/N, I don’t know many people that are as loving and caring as you, sweetheart.” The nickname made a pang in your heart. You had like the super solider since you had met him, but never felt like he reciprocated the feelings. Even though you both cuddled often, and had movie nights, and he always let you beat him while sparring, and that one time you came down with a stomach bug and he fed you soup and-holy shit. Did Steve like you? “Sweetheart?”

“Huh?”

“I said, ‘A bath does sound nice’. What’s got you so suddenly zoned out?” He says, donning a smirk.

“It’s nothing. Let’s get you into that bath, mister,” you had a faux grumpy look on your face as you got up and walked to the bathroom, starting to fill the white, ceramic bathtub with warm water. “Okay, big boy. You need help getting up or are you okay?”

Rolling his eyes at your inauthentic tone, Steve pushes his tensed frame off the body and managed to stumble into the bathroom, while you following him closely to make sure he doesn't fall over from exhaustion.

“I get it, I’m old, but damn Y/N. I can walk perfectly fine,” He chuckles as he pushes himself up to sit on the counter top.

You start to fill up the bathtub with warm water, adding bubbles and lighting a few scented candles. He looked so pretty, hair sticking out in every direction, lips pink and puffy from biting them, his ocean blue eyes still misty as he looks down at his cuticles, picking them slightly. 

“Okay, I’m gonna leave so you can take this bath,” you say, shutting off the faucet, “Got it?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes, Stevie.”

“Stay, please.” His eyes were watering more than earlier. He had those puppy dog eyes, lip quivering as his voice cracked and wavered even with just a few words. He looked so vulnerable, how could you say no to him?

“Of course, Steve. I mean, the bubbles with kind of cover everything. I’ll just sit next to the tub with you, alright?” You awkwardly giggled and scratched the back of your neck. He nodded, hopping off of the counter and starting to undress himself with a wobble. “Stevie, you’re shaking like a leaf, let me help you.”

His eyes never met yours as you helped him pull his t-shirt over his head and looped your delicate fingers through the waistband of his sweatpants, dragging them down his muscular thighs. “You’re not gonna finish your job, doll?”

His boxers. The only clothes he had left on were his grey boxers. You wanted to give him privacy and not look, especially in such a broken and vulnerable state. But god, you could see the outline of his partially-hard cock through the soft cotton. You thought about what it would be like to have your mouth around his hard length, chocking on it as he rammed himself into the back of your throat.

“Ummm, I just--I thought--I mean I can---Only if you want--” The dirty thoughts clouded your brain. It made speaking a speaking a sentence almost impossible as your mouth watered just thinking about his cock.

“It was a joke, sweetheart,” he laughed heartily, “You’re too adorable.”

Pulling his boxers down his legs, he waddled tiredly over to the tub before stepping in. He groaned in pleasure at the feeling of the warm water encapsulating his exhausted body. You imagined that’s how he’d groan if you sucked his cock so hard he was seeing stars.

You were still facing the door, like you were as Steve got completely undressed. You knew if you turned around and look at him, naked and at ease, you’d jump his bones in a heartbeat. “Come sit with me, Y/N”

And you did. You turned around cautiously, like you expected, the bubbles covered his body enough for you to be able to handle yourself as you sat down next to the tub. You grabbed his hand away from his lips, running your soft fingers over his rough calloused ones. “I always see you biting your nails or cuticle or lips or your pens. Why?”

He sighed, “I’m not sure, I guess it just distracts me?” He said it more like it was a question rather than a statement. “I guess I don’t truly know why I do it, I guess I just enjoy having things in my mouth.”

You could read Steve like a book, his pupils blown with lust, his lip stuck between his teeth, a blush heating up his cheeks. You took a leap of faith.

“Yeah, like what?”

“You.”

His lips were on yours in a flurry, it took a second for you to react, but as soon as you did it felt amazing. Neither of you seemed to care about the water splashing over you as his hands trailed up your body, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

He pulls away panting, “F-Fuck, Y/N, I need you. Please. Oh my god I need you so bad,” His eyes looked as if they were welling up with tears and he looked so pretty still in the relaxing bubble bath, whimpering and whining for you. 

“God, I need you too, baby,” you stop to look in his eyes sincerely, “Are you sure you want this? I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to do or that you will regret.” Your hand caresses his cheek.

“Just get in here with me and I’ll show you how much I want you,” he whispered, “Need you, really.”

You sighed before your hands moved shakily to take off your t shirt. As much as you wanted this, you were still scared of how the ripped super solider would feel about you and your body, As soon as your shirt was off, Steve was whimpering, dipping his hand into the soapy water to massage his aching cock. This only spurred you to take off your clothes and join him faster. 

“Did I say you could touch yourself, puppy?” Your stern voice caught him off-guard, making him pause his actions with a look of fear on his face. You step into the bathtub, straddling him. Your nails raked up his milky white thighs, trailing up his body admiring the beauty of it. “Y’Know I was planning on being nice to you because you’ve been so good to me, but you might need to be punished, baby? Do you need to punshied like a brat?”

He mewled, bowing his head in shame. You could feel him growing harder and harder by the second and you were starting to go crazy with the empty feeling inside of you that on he could fill. “No, ma’am. I’ll be good, I swear!”

“Mmmm, that’s my good boy.” Your hands slid up his chest and rested on his cheeks, hearing him preen at your praise, as you repositioned yourself over his cock. “Are you sure you want this?”

“If you dont ride me into next week right fucking now I’m going to scream, Y/N,” He breathed out with a chuckle, Grabbing your thighs, he helps you sink down on his cock. Both of you were moaning and whimpering messes by the time you were sitting at this base of him, trying to get adjusted to his large size. 

Hot tears burned at the back of his eyes as soon as you lifted yourself up off of him, only leaving the tip of him inside of you, and slamming back down on his dick. 

“Baby-please,” he whimpered, “n-need, shit, need your fingers, bad.” 

You were confused, slowing down a bit to make sure he was okay. But his puppy dog eyes showed that he was okay. Slowly taking your wrist from his cheek, he puts your fingers in his warm mouth. Moaning around them and swirling his tongue around them. He did it the same way you always dreamed about sucking his dick, chocking and gagging on his length.

“Yeah, you’re such a needy little slut for me, for this pussy. Look at you, so ruined and fucked out just because I’m fucking you.” He moaned sensually at your words making your core tighten impossibly. 

You had gotten a good idea as you were riding him. Slowly, you start to thrust your hand in and out of his mouth, watching the saliva dribble out of the corners of his mouth as he choked on you. The band in your tummy starts tightening as you feel yourself getting close. 

“Shit, fuck, baby, I’m gonna come. Oh my god, you’re make me come with your beautiful cock, puppy. So good for me, aren’t you?” Your free hand dips into the water, cupping his balls and rolling them around your soft palm.

He nods, choking on your nimble finger yet again his you massage his sensitive balls. “Gonna come,” he slurred and spit around you.\, “almost there.”

“I didn’t” you moaned as you feel his balls tighten, fall back down on his cock at a faster pace, “give you permission to do that. I thought you were going to be good for me?”

“I am” he spluttered loudly, “i am good, I swear. Just please let me come. I need it, oh shit, mommy.”

The name went straight to your core, making you grow weak as you feebly give him permission to come as you come undone with one more bounce on his large member. His hands come up to grope your breasts as he come with hot spurts inside of your tight cunt. 

“Oh my god,” you stifle a giggle as you stand up on shaky legs. You wordlessly helped him out of the tub and wrapped him in a white towel, walking him to bed while you dried yourself off. Collapsing on the bed with a grunt, the solider hollds out his hand to you, signalling you to lay down with him. You could easily tell he was still coming down from his sex high, starting to regain his self back.

“I dont know what possessed me to,” he pauses, trying to figure out a way to word the rest of his sentence, “to suck, I guess, on your hand. I’m sorry, Y/N, that was really weird of me.”

“What do’ya mean, baby? Having an oral fixation isn’t something to be ashamed of.” The words make him smile with droopy eyes, tucking his head into your neck and starting to fall asleep, happy and comfortable, cuddling you.

“And to be honest, puppy. I think it’s really hot.”

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Hello! I am a huge fan of ur writing. I've loved everything I've read of yours. I've read alot of what you've posted, except for a couple of the tags that are squicky for me (so I'm very thankful you tag very thoroughly). No judgement for the squick, it's just not for me. & when I'm having a bad day, I usually just go thru ur ao3 and find something to reread. I think about Therapy's Bruce & Jason every damn day. While I obvs appreciate ur darker more "problematic" content (I really vibe with some of the themes you write about bc of my own trauma, & so it's very cathartic to read about in a fictional setting), I am truly a sucker for ur more happy content. The Happily Ever After verse also lives in my head rent free. Idk more wholesome stuff just seems more special when you write it. Anyways. I would die for you. But the point of this ask is cause I'm curious as to why you don't like Urban Legends? I'm sorry if you already talked about it here or on twitter and I missed it. I was just wondering because I really enjoy your take on things and would love to hear why you dislike it. I've been enjoying it so far personally, but I am always open to DC comics criticism.

Aw thank you so much! I'm so flattered by everything you just said. You're so sweet ❤❤❤❤❤

I haven't talked about Urban Legends here or twitter (I haven't been very active in either place lately. Just a lot going on and no energy 😔) but I'm happy to do it here.

Before I start though, I just want to add a standard disclaimer and make it clear that if you like it, there's nothing wrong with that and you don't have to let me ruin it for you lol. Like what you like.

That said, since you asked...

I said this when I was talking about it on discord, that there is a difference between hope and expectation. I always hope that a new story centered on Jason (or anyone really, but things have been especially egregious for Jay for 15 years) will be good or at least treat the character with a minimal level of respect (to be honest, the bar is super fucking low). But my expectations always temper my hope, to keep it from getting unrealistic. Because my expectations are based on experience.

The long history of Jason Todd, since even before his resurrection, has been one of retroactively trying to make him "a bad seed" in order to absolve Bruce of any responsibility in his death.

I don't even expect DC or their writers to start honoring the fact that Jason was not an angry, reckless Robin (and less of the later than Dick or Tim and definitely Damian). There plenty of ways that retcon can be folded into his history and be compelling and sympathetic. And if they're going to stick with that retcon, I'm only asking that they do it in one of those compelling and sympathetic ways because Jason was 15 when he died, heroically, in one of the most selfless acts in comics, to save a woman who literally handed him over to be brutally murdered. He was 12 when Bruce plucked him off the streets, he'd been homeless and fending for himself for at least two years. I personally think that Jason's story hits harder for him and Bruce if their original, canon relationship, of Jason as starry-eyed and eager to learn and absolutely devoted to Bruce and Bruce to Jason, is preserved. But Jason's origins does leave room for a meaningful interpretation of him as angry and frustrated at the lack of meaningful results of Bruce's methods.

And that's really where my irritation at stories like Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer and Batman The Adventure Continues has it's roots.

Every time one of these stories comes out, I think (or hope, rather) that this will be the one that remembers and respects the origins of the Jason and the Red Hood, that takes into account the changed sensibilities of comics readers in the 30 years since Jason's death and the subtle, 20 year, retroactive campaign to make him the "bad Robin". The "born bad" trope is played out and literally no one likes the message it implies. That some kids are just bad eggs and there's nothing parents or the adults around them can do. Especially when it's played as the kid's fault. If Jason's time as Robin is going to be characterized by anger, then it should be rooted in anger at the social injustices he witnessed as he grew up in an impoverished, crime-ridden, area and the horrors he faced raising himself when every day was a battle for survival. There are topical, meaningful, stories to tell with that backdrop.

But those are never the stories we get.

⚠⚠ Spoilers for Batman: Urban Legends, Cheer ⚠⚠

I'm particularly disappointed in Urban Legends because for the first issue, it looked like that was the kind of story we were going to get. I was put off by the first flashback of Jason being mesmerized by Bruce's guns, and I got that feeling in my gut that it was a bad sign. Jason depicted as impatient and overconfident and the scene with the guns is heavy-handed foreshadowing that got my spidey-sense tingling. I had a inkling then (in the first three pages) of how this story was going to play out, but it was early and I could still see many narrative paths that could lead to a satisfying story. My concerns were soothed somewhat and the little flame of my hope fanned, with the flashback of Alfred scolding Bruce, with Barbara's concern for Jason. A bit of worry returned with the way Jason ruthlessly pursued an addict who didn't appear to be a dealer and with the ending of the issue. The stuff with the addict sat wrong with me but the ending was tempered some by how despicable Tyler's dad was written. The scene was clearly set so that the reader could sympathize with Jason's decision and the scene with the addict could be brushed aside as a side-effect of comics over-the-top need for constant action, so I still held hope.

Issue 2 made me uncomfortable and it's where my hope starts to take a backseat to my expectations. I can dismiss Jason's self-deprecating internal monologue as unreliable narration, except that the flashback reinforces his thought process to explicitly show that it's not unreliable narration, and should be taken at face value. Jason faces physical abuse at the hands of his mother's drug dealer and when the flashback continues later, Jason kills the drug dealer. To be clear, this is a pre-Bruce Jason. His mom is still alive. He's like... 10. He kills this guy for shoving his head into a wall and implying Jason's mother paid for her drugs with sex. This is a scene that serves a single purpose. To show that Jason has always been prone to violence.

In the spirit of full disclosure, there is the small chance the drug dealer might not be dead. But the story obviously wants the reader to think he is, and it hasn't done anything to change that yet.

Starlin already did this story with The Diplomat’s Son in 1988 and he did it infinitely better. AND that’s still technically canon. So now I’m supposed to believe that Jason lost his cool bad enough to kill two douche bags before his sweet 16? Like it’s totally normal for abused kids raised in poverty, who’ve led hard and heartbreaking lives to just... haul off and kill people? That’s bullshit, and when taken with the Jason in the third issue, who is little more than an idiot thug, this story is really doubling down on some fucked up stereotypes.

Which brings us to the most recent issue. I went into this installment with very low expectations. I thought this story was going to be about Jason, through this experience with Tyler, a young boy with a similar background to Jason's, coming to the realization that Bruce's way is the best way and that Bruce did his best by Jason.

That would be annoying (in no small part because it takes increasingly absurd levels of plot armor to keep Bruce's no kill rule relevant, let alone irrefutably right). But I can probably live with that, if only because maybe if Jason officially falls back into line with the Bats crusade, maybe I'll get stories that treat him with respect, stories that don't relegate him to comic relief, dumb brute, or a background body with no lines in a story about the Joker burning Gotham (like Jason would just fucking stand there quietly for that).

And that may still be where the story is going, Jason realizing Bruce is right.

But holy shit do I not have the right words to describe how fucking insulting and gross issue three is.

From start to finish--including the flashback--Jason is written as cruel and fucking stupid. Like straight up dumb.

The entire issue is Bruce explaining the fucking basics to Jason like it's his first day. And Jason flies off the fucking handle and terrorizes a doctor he knows isn't a part of making the Cheerdrops, beats the shit out of some random addicts, and finally, when he can't accomplish anything on his own because he's a dumb brute he calls Barbara for help and rushes in with no information where he's promptly incapacitated and must now wait to be rescued by Batman.

This panel is the least of the issues sins but I can’t screenshot the entire story but it’s representative of the tone for the whole issue (and retroactively tainted the prior two issues).

This is beyond insulting. The only conclusions Jason comes to in this issue are the ones Bruce leads him to by talking to him like he can’t make the simplest connections. And like... in this story Jason can’t make the simplest connections.

This (and the Jason throughout the entirety of this issue) is a far cry from the Jason we fell in love with in Under the Red Hood, who was competent and strategic and intelligent enough to seize control of Gotham’s underworld from Black Mask (who’s no fucking slouch, he’s the first and only person to unify organized crime in Gotham) AND elude and manipulate Bruce until the time and place of his choosing.

This is a far cry from even the Red Hood and the Outlaws Jason who is competent enough to fight the League of Shadows and Ra’s al Ghul (among very dangerous and skilled others) and smart enough to create antidotes for mind control nanotech viruses.

As he should be, by the way. Jason Todd is one of the best, most comprehensively trained fighters in DC’s stable of non powered vigilantes. He’s not irrational or hot headed. He’s pragmatic, tactically minded, and patient. He’s a detective. Right now. Has been since he was 12. Bruce doesn’t have to make him one because he already is. 

Jason is not a stupid thug who uses his fists because his brain doesn’t work. And I can’t tell you how so very exhausted I am by this narrative. 

This is actually the most egregious example of Jason’s skills and intelligence being not just undermined but dismissed entirely. Even Morrison’s Jason had some degree of competency. 

The one, single redeeming factor of this story is the art. It’s beautiful. And Marcus To is a godsend he seems to be one of only a couple of artists who remember that Jason was a child when he was Robin and I’m literally only buying this book because of him. 

Anyway, I’m sorry. I didn’t want that to come out so... um... passionately lol. I’m just very very tired. My intention with this isn’t to ruin it for you, if you like it, that’s fine. 

But this issue shot this story to the top of my "Vehemently Despise” list. 1) Batman: Urban Legends (Cheer), 2) Battle for the Cowl/Morrison’s Batman and Robin, 3) Batman The Adventure Continues.

I hope the next issues somehow salvage this dumpster fire. But I’m not expecting it.

(Damnit. That sounded harsh again. To reiterate, I’m not trying to judge anyone who enjoys it, I just personally hate it and you asked me why lol 😅)

[watchmegetobsessed]

Don’t Worry - Harry Styles

a/n: i’m so excited about this!!! this fic is my take on the song Don’t Worry by The 1975 for @harrystylescherry ‘s Playlist fic challenge! it took me a lot longer to finish this one, mostly because i chose to write about a topic that’s painfully close to my heart and life and i hope to help those of you who are struggling with similar problems. it’s a touchy subject and i really hope i can at least help just for a little by putting this piece out! also, huge thanks to Nat for this challenge and i can’t wait to read all the other fics!!

warning: eating disorder, lots of self-hatred but even more fluff and love!

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip a little harder than they should, it’s starting to feel painful but you don’t even realize. You’re way too fixated on the Instagram post in front of you, swiping through the same four pictures over and over again, crippling anxiety crawling up your spine, clouding your every thought.

Oh how you wish you could say that you’re not the jealous type. Well, in a way, you are not. You don’t think your boyfriend would ever cheat on you or leave you, that’s just not him as a person. Your jealousy roots in your insecurities about your body and it creates more of a confusion in your head about why Harry, your boyfriend of three years is really dating you when he could have anyone, any model or super gorgeous singer, actress out there, yet he settled for… you.

Your thumb swipes across the screen again as you keep staring at the bikini photos Kendall Jenner has recently posted. She is stunning, the perfect model type with her long legs, skinny torso and snatched waist. Hell, she could make you question your sexuality on other days even, but today she is feeding your burning insecurities.

The thought that at one point in life, your boyfriend was with her makes you feel sick, because you are simply nothing like her. In every sense, you are what others like to call curvy, however you often use other terms, some not too nice ones on your worse days. Your hips are wide, holding quite some meat on them, your full thighs never heard of such thing as thigh gaps, not even when you were a kid. Your tummy brings you a headache sometimes when you want to wear something tight, the urge to hide it stronger than your fashion sense. It’s been ages since you last dared to step out of the house without a bra on, your full breasts always need the support if you don’t want them to sit a little lower on your chest than what you prefer. There are rolls, extra skin, stretch marks and all that jazz on your body and has been for a long time. No model looks like this and you are more than aware of that. But if your boyfriend can get any of them, why did he settle for you?

Tears are threatening to roll down your cheeks when you finally close the app and stop staring at Kendall’s perfect body. You ball your hands to stop them from shaking as you make your way to the bathroom in need of some freshening up. The cold water in your face feels nice, but the moment your eyes fall on your reflection you almost cringe at your own sight, as if it’s a reminder of everything you thought about in the past hour.

What is Harry doing with someone like me? The question keeps playing in your head on repeat and you wish you had a relevant answer, but your tainted thoughts keep bringing you back to the same point: He surely will realize it himself and leave me.

You try your best to shake it all off your mind, but it’s not easy. Sitting at the dining table you busy yourself with some work you brought home, hoping the files will keep your wandering thoughts at bay, however the attempt is not quite successful. And then you hear the front door open and close, followed by Harry’s sweet greeting.

“I’m home, baby!” he calls out and you can tell he is in a great mood just from his voice. You force your best fake smile to your lips, not wanting to ruin his mood with your petty party. He walks in, eyes falling on your sitting figure at the table and though you don’t know it, his heart flutters, like always, even after three years together.

Harry is obsessed with you, to say the least. Every little thing about you fascinates him, he loves everything about you, inside and out, just the way you are and he vowed to never stop telling you how much he adorns you.

“Hey there, wha’cha doin’?” he asks, kissing into your hair as he scans over the papers on the table.

“Oh, just… some extra work,” you shrug, chewing on your bottom lip again, the skin is about to break soon for sure.

“Baby, you work too much. Take some time off,” he tells you, shuffling around before he disappears in the bedroom for a moment before reappearing. “Fancy taking a bath with me?” he offers with a cheeky smile.

Bath, for that you’d have to be completely naked in front of him. That cannot happen in this state of mind.

“Um, I want to finish this. Maybe next time,” you tell him with a faint smile.

“You sure? I could massage your shoulders the way you like it so much, we could try that new bath salt we bought.”

“I really want to get this done, H. You just go and enjoy your bath,” you insist, the stern voice catches him a little by surprise.

“Everything alright baby?” His eyebrows pull together as he watches you from across the room.

“Mm, everything is fine. Just… working,” you tell him, eyes on the papers in front of you, pretending like you’re reading the lines, but in reality you have absolutely no idea what the words are saying. You hear him mumble a soft alright before he disappears again, leaving you alone.

A shaky breath leaves your trembling lips once you hear the water running in the bathroom. You bury your face in your palms, feeling so defeated and lost, the only thing that would comfort you would be Harry, but he cannot know what’s been going on in your head. He would never understand the struggle.

These thoughts usually only last for a few days. You always manage to forget about them eventually and return to normality, but not this time. Days turn into weeks and you find yourself sinking deeper into the hole you created for yourself. It starts to effect more parts of your life too. You’re having a hard time sleeping, always waking up several times during the night and sometimes you don’t even fall back asleep after one point. You lose your appetite, your mind tells you that you don’t need the nutritious food, that you need to lose the fat because that’s the only way you can keep Harry. You stop wearing your favorite clothes, always opt for the looser ones that hide every inch of your body and spend way too much time zoned out. You keep catching yourself completely lost in your thoughts during the day, thinking about how Harry might be comparing you to his exes every time he sees you, especially naked.

It’s been long since the last time you were intimate with Harry and you feel so bad for it, but you haven’t been able to bring yourself to bare your body in front of him. You always blew him off with some lame excuse and though there’s a chance he didn’t catch onto whatever was going on, now you know he is suspicious.

And you’re right. Harry notices every little thing, all the changes you’ve been going through. How you leave half your plate uneaten at dinner or how he finds you lying awake next to him in the middle of the night. He also notices how your favorite dresses and shirts remain untouched through the weeks even though you always wear them whenever you have the chance. Instead, he only sees you in big hoodies and loose pants, hiding the delicious curves of your body. But what truly pains him is how you’ve been ignoring all his tries to get close to you, the way you move away from his touch.

The last straw however happens on a Friday afternoon. You are sitting on the couch, mindlessly clicking through Netflix on the TV, trying to find something to watch when Harry is roaming through the cabinets in the bathroom, looking for the lotion he only uses when his skin feels extremely dry. He is going through every drawer and shelf, not finding what he is looking for, but then something odd catches his attention. Some weird named pills are sitting at the back of one of the shelves, hidden behind your perfumes so he hasn’t noticed it, but as he takes it out to have a better look at them, he almost throws them across the room. He has heard of similar pills before, they do more harm than help in weightloss, ruining your digestive system so badly you can actually get way more serious health problems if you use them too long. He frantically tears the box open and see that one third of the pills are gone, meaning that you’ve been taking them for a little while now behind his back.

With the box in his hand, he marches out to the living room where you are still and holding the pills up, he needs everything in him not to flip immediately.

“What the fuck are these?” he grits through his teeth. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he was never supposed to find those, but the cat’s out of the bad and now you can’t think of anything to bring up to your defense, knowing well he very much does not approve these kind of stuff.

“They are… I’m doing a cleanse,” you say, but there’s no use to lie.

“Drinking juice is for cleansing, this shit ruins your body,” he spats, throwing the box to the couch and you bite into your bottom lip, feeling the tears building up already. “Why would you even think about taking these?”

“Why?” you chuckle bitterly, your vision blurry from the tears. “Oh come on, don’t be so oblivious.”

“Y/N, these stuff are dangerous!” his anger turns into despair and concern as he sits beside you on the couch. “Baby, why did you take them?”

“Because I’m desperate, Harry!” you snap at him, the hot tears running down your cheeks. “You have no idea what I go through every fucking day!”

“Then talk to me! I want to know everything, I want to help you!” he pleads, reaching for your hand but you move away from him. “Please talk to me, baby!”

“So you can feed me lies? I’m not naïve, Harry,” you shake your head vigorously.

“What are you talking about?”

“Me! I’m talking about… this,” you growl gesturing at yourself. Harry runs his gaze down your body, but he still can’t figure out what this is about. You look beautiful, you always do in his eyes, he has no idea what the matter is. “I’m not one of your exes and all those models you’ve been rumored to date, Harry.”

“Okay and why is that relevant?”

“Because how am I the right person for someone like you? I’m not skinny, I’m not pretty and I’ll probably never be anything like the girls you dated. Why are you even wasting your time on me?”

By the time you get to the end, your tears are flooding and it breaks Harry’s heart to see you like this. Feeling so unworthy when in his eyes, you deserve everything. You’re perfect.

“I’m not wasting anything on you, baby. Why do you even want to look like them? I love every inch of your beautiful body!”

You flinch at his words. Deep down you know he means them, but there’s this barricade on your mind that tells you he is not serious, that he is only saying those things because he feels like he has to say them, not because he means them. That evil little voice in your head keeps telling you not to believe anything he says.

How could he love your body? How could a man like him be okay with someone like you? He doesn’t want to be with you. He’ll realize it and leave you!

You wish you could turn it off, you wish there was a switch that would shut out all these thoughts, but they just keep coming and coming. Harry watches you break right in front of his eyes and he has no idea what to do, panic is setting in. He feels like a failure that he let you reach this point.

“Baby, I fucking love you. Everything about you. Please don’t feel like you have to change for me. I love you no matter what, I think you are the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever seen. If you want to change, do it because you want to do it for yourself! You don’t have to change for me!”

He is practically begging, desperate to get you to understand that you’re perfect to him just the way you are, that he is in love with every inch of your beautiful body. He reaches out to your face again and though you move away again and it pains him so much, he still goes through with the action and cups your face in his hand. His clammy palm meets your wet cheek as he turns your head so he can look into your eyes, but you are relentlessly keeping your gaze focused anywhere but him.

You can’t bear looking at him or yourself, you just want to disappear, vanish into nothing, existence right now feels like just too much.

“Love, please look at me,” he quietly begs and you shake your head no. “Please, let me see those beautiful eyes I love so much.”

You wince at his words and try to turn your head away, but he cups the other side of your face with his other hand, keeping it in place. Your eyes are wired shut, you just can’t look at him, it would break you.

Harry is kneeling next to the couch now where you are curled up, your arms wrapped around your knees as you try to hide yourself. You feel so lost, so miserable and you wish he didn’t see you like this.

“I can’t, Harry. I can’t,” you tell him shaking your head vigorously. Part of you feels so stupid for acting like this, but you just can’t help it. It’s not you anymore who is in charge of your mind and actions, you feel more like just a witness who sees herself from the outside and she doesn’t like what she sees, not even a bit.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground and takes the thick blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you as he shimmies himself next to you, arms wrapping around your frame as he pulls you to his chest, covering you with the warm blanket as if it was some kind of shield from the world and that’s exactly what you need. A hiding spot.

You let him pull you to him, face buried into his chest as you sob into his shirt, his strong arms holding you so tight, you feel like nothing can hurt you with his hold around you.

“I love you, baby. I really do. And when I tell you I find you gorgeous and that how pretty I think you are, that’s the truth. I love everything about you. Fell in love with you the first time I saw you and I’m not even joking. Please don’t ever think that you have to change for me.”

“But I can’t stop thinking about how I’m so different from the people you’ve dated,” you whimper shaking your head. His hands squeeze your upper arm as he kisses the crown of your head.

“Different is not bad, baby. I didn’t date my previous girlfriends because they looked the way they did. If I’m thinking about it, I should feel a little offended you think I’m so shallow to care about these stuff,” he jokes, earning a faint huff that’s somewhat a laugh from you.

“I just think that you’re not blind.”

“That is correct,” he chuckles. “I’m not blind, that’s why I find you so incredibly sexy.”

“I really don’t see how you can use the word sexy to describe me,” you mumble closing your eyes as a headache is starting to form from how hard you were crying just a minute ago.

“What do you think there is on you that I shouldn’t find attractive?” he prompts the question in all seriousness.

“Please don’t get me started because we’ll never get to the end of the list,” you huff bitterly. It might have come out as a joke but there’s just plenty of the truth behind your words.

“No, seriously. Tell me what you think I don’t find attractive on you,” he nags and you give up with a sigh.

“Okay, I… I have fat rolls on my stomach,” you start off with the first thing that’s on your mind.

“Everyone has them.”

“But not as big as mine. Yours aren’t as big as mine.”

“So what? I love your tummy. It’s soft, keeps your organs safe, especially the ones that will help us start a family at one point. For me, your tummy means that you are enjoying the wonderful foods of the world, that you are well and have a great appetite. I fucking hate it when girls are just poking around their salads, complaining about calories and all that stuff. Do you have any idea how much I enjoy watching you eat? I think it might be a fetish at this point,” he chuckles, making you laugh as you hide your face in his chest.

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why? I love it when you enjoy the food, I love trying new food with you, cooking with you, see you satisfied when you’re full, you have no idea how happy that makes me.”

“Really?” you ask in a whisper.

“Absolutely. I love your tummy, it’s just even more of you to love on,” he hums kissing the top of your head. “Okay, what’s next?”

“I have so many stretch marks,” you whine with a scowl. “They are everywhere, on my thighs, my ass, my stomach, fucking everywhere!”

“I literally have nothing else to say than… I couldn’t care less. Honestly, most people have them, baby. It’s natural, your body is changing, it’s just trying to keep up with the pace. But you know what I’m looking forward to?”

“What?”

“I can’t wait till you have marks from pregnancy, Love,” he huffs dreamily and you can’t help, but smile at his words. “Those marks will be a reminder to me how much you’ve gone through for our family. I think those are just so wonderful.”

“Why are you linking everything with having babies?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks chuckling. “Because I can’t wait to have babies with you. I can’t wait to see you with a big belly, so I can love on you, take care of you and that our babies, I’m so excited for that.”

“You want all of that… with me?”

“Have I not made it clear to you?” he asks, looking down at you and moving your head your eyes finally meet his. “I’m not just saying all those things for nothing, Love. I see my future with you.”

Closing your eyes you let his words sink in and for the first time in a while, your mind is not trying to convince you that he is not telling you the truth.

“Okay, next,” he mumbles, his fingers dancing up and down your arm as he holds you tight.

“My boobs are weird,” you say out loud, cringing at your own words. You hate talking about this.

“Excuse me? What’s wrong with my girls?” he gasps, making you laugh.

“They are not as round as I would want them to be, a little saggy because of the weight gaining.”

“But they are boobs,” he points out, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, so that’s all that matters. Boobs are great, nothing else matters. Men are simple, baby.”

“I can’t believe you,” you laugh swatting his chest playfully.

“What? I mean it! Do you think I think about all that stuff when I see your boobs? My mind goes: Oh my God, boobs! And that’s it. I just get excited to see your tits.”

“You are such a pig,” you laugh, snuggling closer to his side.

“Are you shaming me for my preferences now?”

“Your preferences?”

“Yeah, you are my preference,” he remarks smugly, kissing into your hair again. “I literally don’t know how to say it differently, and I’m sorry for being so vulgar in advance…”

“Oh God,” you mumble, already fearing what he’s going to say.

“But you have nothing to worry about until you see my dick getting hard at the sight of you.”

“That was highly inappropriate.”

“Yeah, but it’s true. I find you sexy and there’s evidence. I can’t really hide it,” he chuckles and when you look up at him you see a dirty, twisted smirk on his pink lips. “Please don’t ever doubt any of my feelings for you, alright?” he asks in a more serious tone. “And if you feel like this again, I want you to tell me. Those pills and bottling it up inside you don’t help. I don’t want you to risk your health just because you have doubts about me. I love you, and when I say that I mean that I love all of you. Everything.”

“Okay,” you answer in a faint whisper.

“Don’t just say okay because you want me to get out of your hair. Promise me that you won’t keep it to yourself. I want to help you, I want to be there for you like you are always there for me.”

“I promise,” you nod, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Alright. Have you eaten today?” he softly asks and you fear to give him an answer, because you haven’t been able to push anything else down than just your morning coffee. “Okay, then let me make you something.” “I don’t… I’m not hungry…” you quietly tell him.

“Mhm, then I’ll make something for myself and being the romantic boyfriend that I am, I’m gonna share it with my lovely girlfriend as a cute gesture,” he says, rephrasing what he said earlier. You don’t argue with him, just let him slip out of your hold and go to the kitchen to make something for the two of you.

It’s a tiny step on a lifelong journey and you know that. You know that your feelings and opinion about yourself won’t change from one day to the other, but you slowly start to accept it. You have a lot ahead of you, the road might get bumpy sometimes and maybe other times you’ll have to take a few steps back. But at the end, you know it’s all going to be alright, because you will never be alone. Harry will be your greatest support through it all and now you can finally see that.

Don’t Worry - The 1975

When you're in love but you don't know what to do with it When blackness hangs overhead like a cloud

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you wake up and you don't know what day it is When the pain flows through your heart and your bones

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' The sun will shine through

When you feel no one knows just what you're goin' through When your insides feel much colder than snow

Don't worry, darlin' 'Cause I'm here with you Don't worry, darlin' Oh, don't worry, darlin' Don't worry, darlin' I'll always love you You

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[erensproudsimp]

Chef D'œuvre

Jean kirstein x Reader

⚠ Sexual Content Ahead ⚠

Content Warnings:Fluff, Sex on a canvas, established relationship, teasing Jean hehe, dirty talk, ultimate smut + this isn't proofread

Summary: Restraining Jean from touching you the whole day, a candle light dinner in the evening leading to sex on a canvas? The idea of Jean as an artist is just so hot.

Word count:4.1k

Fanart is by artworkbyzuli on insta

Cross-posted on ao3

Colorful tainted tiles, the smell of fresh paint hovering in the air, early hours of sunshine filtering from the beige curtains to fall on his face highlighting his features as his eyes concentrated on the canvas. Blanc frames waiting to be hued with a meaning or not. Teeth clenching, his jawline apparent, he looked like a Greek God, his brush being his weapon, almost out of this world. Shirt glued on his body like a second skin layer bringing out his honed muscled body, Jean truly was a work of art spreading his magnificence on cloth and paper. Standing by the door frame in his shirt two times bigger than your figure, you admired your boyfriend, his back facing you, drowned in his own world of aesthetic in his studio.

Tiptoeing to him, you wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek pressed on his back catching him off-guard. You took a quick whiff of him. Sandalwood with a faint citrus.

"Woah there, good morning baby, did you have a good night sleep?" Jean's hoarse voice almost made your legs lose their balance. His free hand caressing your arms, you hummed as a simple yes still intoxicated by his scent.

"I'm going to go prepare breakfast, I'll call for you when I'm done." Jean gave you a quick forehead kiss before you left the room.

Cracking some eggs in the pan, you connected your phone to the speaker in the house to play some music while you proceeded to put fruits in the blender to make smoothies. Swaying your body to the music at the same time lip-syncing to the words, you spread butter on slices of bread unaware of Jean's presence behind you. The man crossed his arms, leaning on the wall he admired your actions which were nothing but alluring to him.

What made it even more hot to him was the fact that you were wearing his shirt. At first in the studio, he didn't realise but now that he noticed, he couldn't help but smirk to himself. He took in the way his shirt was practically floating on you, the flashbacks of last night suddenly raced through his mind. The way you were moaning his name, grabbing the sheets tightly as you let him take control of you made him take a deep breath before he approached you.

Now it was his turn to return you the hug from earlier. Surprised by him, he didn't leave you a second to react to his abrupt act of affection, he moved your hair to the side to plant a kiss on your neck making you shiver. His arms tightened around you just as his kisses went deeper all through your neck.

"y/n," his hot breath unsteady.

"Je-Jean, the eggs are gonna burn," you breathed.

"The only thing burning right now is my urge to fuck you right on this counter," Jean whispered in your ear almost making you lose your thinking pattern.

"Jean, I'm serious," you tried to wingle from his grasp to save your omelettes and placed them on two separate plates.

Jean looked at you disappointedly as though a puppy who had just lost its toy.

"Aww don't look at me like that, gimme a kiss, come on," you opened your arms, encouraging him to come to you.

Gladly he did and locked his lips in an instant.

"Jump," Jean demanded in between the makeout and you, of course, obeyed.

Your legs around his hips, sloppy lips fighting for dominance, Jean pressed your ass on the kitchen island. His arms snaking up and down your thighs, giving them a light squeeze here and there.

"Your legs are pretty, but they would be prettier on my shoulders hmm," his voice laced with a passion so hot like molten lava.

Your insides now ignited with flame, you pushed your hips into his by closing in your legs wrapped around him. Hard. Mischievousness coursed through your mind as you wanted to tease him for making you flushed.

"Want my legs over you? well catch them if you can," with that said, you jumped off the kitchen island freeing yourself from his clutches to run away from him.

"Hey! Get back here! I'm not done with you! " Jean called after you, laughing as he chased you down the corridors. A soft genuine laugh emitting from him when you threw pillows from the sofas at him to halt his movements only for him to catch the items and throw it back at you like a snowball fight.

A grin plastered on your face when you finally got tired of the running and collapsed on the floor with Jean kneeling beside you equally euphoric. The happiness was mainly because he felt so much at peace seeing your smile.

"Got ya," he breathed from exhaustion, encircling his arms around your waist and pulling you close so that he could rest his chin on your shoulder.

"You're so warm," Jean nuzzled his nose into your neck.

"Speaking of warmth, our food's getting cold in the kitchen, hurry up we need to eat," you mentioned.

"The only thing I want to eat right now is you-" you cut him off with your index finger pressed on his soft lips.

"Jean, I swear to god, let's go," you pushed him from back because he was trying to grab your ass, however, you receded.

"Your hands were so small on my back, but I'd prefer them jerking my dic-" again you shut him up by shoving toast bread in his mouth to save you from further embarrassment.

"Y/n baby, I need you so bad right now," he said swallowing that bread hard as your eyes widen.

From the look in his eyes, you could tell that this man was sexually frustrated, certainly because of your actions earlier but you didn't expect him to be so thirsty.

For a brief moment, a thought came up to you, basically telling you to refuse his current wishes to make him further agitated just so that you ravish the feeling of him taking the pent-up anger out harder on you later. Perfect plan, you internally agreed to yourself.

"Oh you need me badly? How about you show me that at night, okay?"a light smirk stretching the corner of your mouth.

" Y/n, I need you now, like right now, I can't wait till night or anything," Jean whined. How cute.

"Aww, you're that desperate baby? You can't hold yourself back? I thought you were tougher than this,"you cooed.

" Y/n, I can see damn well what you're trying to do, so stop messing with me please, "Jean reached out to grab your face only for you to pull back. Not going to lie that did hurt you when you saw the disappointed look on his face, yet, oddly that made you feel and realise the control you had over him and goddamn this felt good.

"Okay then, how about a little bit of challenge for you? If you manage to keep your hands off me the entire day and that includes any sort of contact, I'll make a surprise for you tonight as a reward. And if you lose then no sex for you until the next day baby. Deal?"

"Now that's going to be hard as hell but your surprises never fail to entertain me so deal."

"That was quick of you," you commented shaking his hand as a way of signing the contract.

"I just know that you're going to do something remarkable that will blow my mind so I'm simply looking forward to it."

His hopes were ridiculously high for the reward and luckily you already had something in mind for tonight.

After breakfast, Jean wasted no time to rush into his studio to keep you out of his sight. That was going to be a little too easy for him to win in this way. Not that you didn't want him to win, you couldn't help but want to push him to his limits. While you were scavenging your mind for the perfect way to catch him off guard, you heard a knock at the door. Outside was the postman with a package which seemed to be a delivery of one of the various things you kept buying online.

Taking the parcel inside, you opened it to find something that made you smiled evilly. It was a black transparent two pieces lingerie with lace straps. Not a second was wasted for you to change into that. To hide your plans, you wore a bathrobe and tiptoed to the studio.

Inside, Jean clearly concentrated on drawing when you creaked open the door, his attention now on you.

"Y/n why are you wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the da- oh-"

Right at that moment, you removed the robe letting it fall to your feet to unveil the marvel that was hidden inside of it.

Jean's breath hitched in his throat.

"You have no idea how badly I want to scream right now,"his pencil falling out of his hand, he covered his face with his hand and took a step back from you. He rubbed his temples as he inhaled deeply.

"Fuck y/n, why are you doing this to me?"he looked at you from up to down as though he was eating you up with his eyes, capturing every inch of what he's seeing and burning it into his memory.

"Do you like what you see?" your hands on your hips as you leaned on the wall.

"You have no idea."

You chucked and approached him slowly.

"If only I could touch you right now, you have no idea of what I'd do to you," Jean put his hands into the pockets of his pants to try to contain himself from not jumping on you like a hungry wolf who hasn't eaten in weeks.

Clacking your black heels on the cold tiles, your hands meticulously moving on your hips, you diminished the distance between you two. One foot difference. Jean licked his teeth from inside closed mouth and opened it slightly to let out hot breath, sustaining the proximity but you could see the intensity in his eyes.

"I can't stop staring, please y/n, "

"Where's the fun in that? I wanted to see you all hopeless for me and you're doing a pretty good job resisting," your finger pointing at his growing bulge.

Blowing air from his mouth, his hands on his hips, he walked to and fro.

"Is this the surprise you were telling me about in the morning?"

"Of course not, the surprise is bigger than this. I just wanted to give you a little sneak peak thought since I love you so much and don't want to kill you with a heart attack," you giggled twirling a strand of your hair. His eyes went big.

"If that's the case, you better prepare yourself for tonight because you seriously don't know what I'm going to do to you," Jean licked his lips.

"Can't wait," you blew him a kiss while you strolled out of the room, his eyes still fixated on the lingerie.

Not only did what happened turned you on, but it also motivated you to start the preparations for Jean to wreck you till you couldn't walk. Changing into pajamas for comfort, you took out scented candles of your preference and placed them on the nightstands and dressing table in the bedroom.

Jean's POV

'What the hell was y/n even thinking pulling that move on me? '

Sighing deeply I looked at my boner.

"Now what am I going to do of you? Jerk off to the memory of y/n in that black lingerie?"

On second thought, that doesn't sound bad, except for the fact that he was in an art studio.

Gosh, was he not turned when he first saw you in that. The way the cloth surrounded your soft breasts, decorating them to be perhaps the most flawless thing he'd ever seen or the way your stance screamed if confidence. He couldn't decide which of them were hotter.

The little ribbons on the strap did nothing but make you more erotic. How did you even manage to look that good, is a mystery that he will never discover.

"I really got the best of the best for me huh," Jean smiled to himself.

His art failed in front of you. Null and void. In his eyes you were the definition of what a beauty goddess was, hence proving that beauty indeed lied in the eyes of the beholder. Despite your imperfections which nonetheless still made you impeccable, Jean always attempted in copying your sublimity yet in vain.

Without a doubt, you were the best Muse he's ever had in his life. One day hoping that he would finally do you justice and be able to recreate his image of you in his mind on cloth, Jean kept trying albeit failing each time. However, he would absolutely never give up.

Collecting himself from the recent impact, he picked up his pencil from the ground and as much as he wanted to concentrate on his drawing of you, he couldn't prevent himself from picturing you from back then. You were beyond gorgeous. Maybe, that exactly was the inspiration he needed.

"I need to take a bath," Jean said to himself. Luckily there were two bathrooms in the house, as he wouldn't want to interrupt you while you were busy making whatever surprise.

To be honest, Jean was as impatient as you and full on ready to be taken by surprise by you.

Your POV

"Okay I've cleaned the room spotless, scented it, changed the sheets of the bed, took out towels and now time to bring the big thing,"you checked off everything on your mentally made-up list before you could continue.

Rushing to the wardrobe, you took out the art supplies required for the sex painting. Canva isn't the comfiest option for sex but you knew that it will all be worth the work at the end.

You honestly couldn't wait to see Jean's reaction to this.

Since the mattress can get a little colorful, you didn't want to run the risk of ruining the bedding either, you rather placed the sheet of canva on the carpeted floor that was still easy to the body. Laying down a cloth, that you taped so that it wouldn't dislocated when things get moving, on top of which you placed the canva and towels around it as well as a trail of towels towards the bathroom so that clean up of the post-art would be rendered easier.

"Okay now that everything is settled, let's go take a bath and prep myself up," you muttered to yourself, locking the door from the inside so that Jean wouldn't accidentally enter it.

-Time skip-

A private dinner in your dwelling makes for an magical evening. Silk sheet on the table, napkins neatly pleated on the white plates surrounded by tableware. Incorporating flower petals, slow romantic harmonious music, and low lighting to create the right atmosphere you as well added string lights for an added touch of enchantment. Aphrodisiac food was the obvious choice, you thought, placing down the lobster in the middle. Wine in glasses twinkling to the fairy lights for a further sizzle.

Not long until Jean made his appearance in a suit, top buttons of his shirt loose while you were in a black dress lighting the scented candles.

"Hey babe," his throaty voice called.

Turning around, you saw him, his hands in his pockets walking towards you. His large body towering yours.

"You look hot," he complimented looking down on you.

"So do you," you giggled bopping his nose.

Pulling a chair, Jean signaled you to sit as he pushed the chair then going to his seat facing you.

The empty wine glasses were delicately filled with the red alcohol, each of you raising your goblet for a cheers.

" Cheers to my pretty boyfriend."

"Cheers to my future wife," Jean smirked as you were busy turning fifty shades of red.

In comfortable silence, except for the clinking of utensils, both of you ate.

"Main course is done for, now time for dessert, "he said standing from his chair to yours. Lift you off the ground swiftly, he walked you to the bedroom in bridal style.

"huh? HUH? Jean what are you doing?"

"Taking my dessert to eat, what else?" he replied kissing you. His kiss was a fever. Hot. Sluggish.

Opening the door to disclose the surprise, his eyes went wide until it hit him. The canva and towels on the ground, paint orderly laid on the bed.

"I was thinking the house needed some more decorations, so why not spice things up by creating this masterpiece and hanging it in the living room for everyone to see? " innocently you smiled at him.

"Hahaha y/n! You're amazing!" rosy cheeks, eyes twinkling with admiration and affection he twirled your body in air, "wait then that means that the whole day you preventing me from touching you was pointless," his expression now slightly frowned.

"I mean, yeah, I mean, I just wanted to see you desperate for me," you fumbled with your words.

"Bad girl. After this I will have to punish you for making me suffer for nothing," Jean put you down.

You didn't know whether to feel anticipation or fear knowing that this man was going to wreck you.

"Why are you acting coy all of a sudden? Weren't you the one to act like a whore? " with the cockiest smirk ever Jean said.

His hands previously placed gently on your hips began to tighten. The press only fueled your rapid beating of your heart. Tilting your head towards his face by lifting it with one finger on your chin, he locked eye contact with you.

Lust filled his irises. Skilfully, he unzipped your dress and pulled it off your skin. Skin that desired to be touched so badly. Skin that burned under his fingertips that grazed the surface. Under the clothes exposed the black lingerie that got Jean worked up since morning.

Even though he already saw you in it, it nevertheless felt like the first time. The same adoration that held his gape seemed to be worshiping your body.

"May I take your bra off? " Jean asked. You nodded, Jean elatedly removed it.

"Look at these perfect tits. Belonging and made only for me," cupping them in his hands, he growled against your neck.

Your mind going blanc and empty, you were left speechless. Only ravishing him. His presence. His hot breath fanning on you. As much as you wanted to take this slowly, you couldn't stop yourself from craving to feel him buried deep inside of you.

Your hand slightly sliding over his growing bulge, earning a hiss and restrained moan from him.

"No. You're not going to be the one to tease me anymore. It's my turn," biting your collarbone, he declared making you leap in his arms.

Feeling self-conscious that you were the only one in undergarment, you unbuttoned his shirt and ripped it off him while he was sloppily making out with you.

Grabbing your thighs, he insinuate for you to jump. Chest to chest, he then threw you on the bed making it sink under your weight. He was finally freed from his restraints of not laying a hand on you.

His body hovering yours, he kissed you passionately. He's never kissed you like this before. Maybe you should restrain him more often.

Jean swallowed your gasp when unknowingly his hand went down your stomach to press on your clothed clit.

"Huh? You like that?" laughs "yeah you like that don't you," he breathed his finger circling around the bud. Your response was a moan and your breath quickening. Your reaction turned Jean on more than he already was.

Going down on you, he sucked your soaked underwear, the room filled with slurping sounds. He gripped your hips by wrapping his big arms around it to prevent you from squirming away. You were practically a moaning mess. Aggressively, he ripped it off you, continuing to lick through your folds.

"Jea-Jean I think I'm going to c-cum," you manage to utter.

"Heh, not yet princess, we got so much more do," he wiped his mouth that was coated with your juices and licked the liquid off his fingers. You looked at him with pleading eyes as you were yearning for a release.

Legs trembling, you raised your body to be able to sit while Jean grabbed the body-safe paint and put a fair amount on the cloth.

"Come here my lady," he said as he picked you to lay your body gently on the canva, paint on your back.

Jean took off his pants and underwear, his hard dick slapping on his stomach whilst you were making yourself comfortable.

A brush in his one hand and a palette in another, he sauirted some paint on the flat item.

Impatience began to overcome you as you begged him to come to you.

"Wait a moment more babe, I'm just making the perfect colour," Jean finished his sentence by approaching you.

Jean maintained eye-contact with you, the brush gliding over your soft skin leaving colors behind its track. Chills ran down your skin after each stroke. Drowning in bliss, Jean slowly ran the tool down your belly to an inch higher up your pussy. You were waiting for him to pass the paint through your core but instead he stopped his actions making you internally more annoyed.

"I'm not going to let you get off so easily after what you did to me," Jean murmured.

Cold. Squeezing the paint tubes, Jean splat paint on your body, mainly on your stomach. He leaned forward and pressed his body against yours to spread the paint.

Lining his dick right outside your entrance, he thrusted in without warning. Your back arching, you let out a moan. His hands rushing behind your back, he hugged your body as he gave you time to adjust to him.

"Mmmm, fits perfectly. Look at how good you take me, yeah you see that? "Jean moaned in your ear.

" It's okay, you can move,"you bit back a groan because Jean didn't leave you a second before pumping in and out of you.

" I can't believe you're mine, all mine, no one but me knows how good you feel, just me,"Jean panted in your ears," listen to my moans, you he-ear how goo-od you're making me feel? "

"AH-yes Jean, yes," you purred.

His forehead rested on yours, mouth connected, swallowing each other's breath and sounds.

" Go faster Jeaann." This made him slow down instead of doing as you wanted.

"Oh? you want me to go faster? Go-o ahead, beg for it. Tell me how bad you need me," Jean's stroked your insides with long and slow thrusts.

"Pl-please Jean, need you so badly, you make me feel so good so take all your anger out on me bu-ut please make me cum alongside with you!"

"Lift your ass, my queen,"Jean satisfied with your answer commanded, which you did as he ordered as he pounded deeper into you mixing the paint on the canva.

"Look at you, such a good girl."

It wasn't long until Jean filled your insides with his hot seed making you scream his name loudly. Right before you could come that Jean could tell by the shaking of your breath, he lifted your body off the masterpiece so that your ejaculation wouldn't ruin it.

In his arms, you came so hard, your liquids dripping down Jean's skin.

"Y/n, I don't think you realised that but what you just did was so hot," Jean admired you.

"Also, thank you for fulfilling my fantasies as an artist," he thanked you kissing your cheeks fondly.

Walking on the towel leading to the bathroom, he put you inside the bathtub, opening the tap to let the container fill with hot water. While it was doing so, Jean got in with you between his legs and head on his chest heaving up and down.

Jean took some shampoo in his hand, and massaged your scalps with you basking. Heavenly was a word too light to describe the feeling. You were basically in paradise.

"In round two I'm not planning on going gentle now so just bite the pillow and take it," Jean sputtered against your hair.

[petitelepus]

Hi, I know you have a ton of requests already, but when you're done with them, would you consider writing a follow-up to that yandere reader x Tarn fic? I really loved that one and I'm curious about what could happen next. Regardless, I love your writing and I'll enjoy anything you end up posting because your writing style is so nice and pleasant to read. Take care and goodnight!

Tarn snapped his helm up as sirens went off in Peaceful Tyranny. There was an intruder in their ship and his thoughts immediately went to you.

You and Tarn hadn't ended your last call exactly in friendly terms, but the feared Decepticon wasn't afraid. Did you honestly believe you could take on the whole Decepticon Justice Division?

As Tarn and others rallied they looked around, realizing that one of them was missing.

"Where is Nickel?!" Tarn asked and the rest of the DJD looked at each other like expecting someone else to know.

Suddenly Tarn's and others' commlinks clicked open and they answered.

"T- Tarn...!" It was Nickel! "S- Someone is here and-!"

Suddenly the line went dead and Tarn rushed to the medbay where Nickel spent most of her time... But the place was empty, save for long energon marks, as if someone had been bleeding and dragged down the floor.

Tarn and others immediately followed the trails, all the way to the Great Hall where the statues of their leader's, Megatron's, stood... And before those statues stood you.

"You-!" Tarn cursed under his breath.

"Oh, why it isn't Tarn!" You chirped as you turned around and the Decepticon group froze. You had Nickel trapped and pinned against your chassis. "I was afraid you wouldn't see the energon I smeared for you. It would have made getting your attention even harder."

"Nickel!" Helex and others cried out, but when they tried to approach you, you raised Nickel and held your energon tainted claws against her intake.

"Ah ah ah!" You tutted with a wicked smile, "One wrong move and your medic will bleed to death!"

"You coward-!" Tesaurus growled, but they all stepped back. You smiled like a cat with milk. "Good Decepticons."

"I'm giving you one chance," Tarn said and you could feel the hatred in his voice. The voice he couldn't use against you. Tarn growled, "Let. Her. Go."

"You're awfully attached to this cutie." You chuckled as you leaned down as you raised Nickel to meet you midway and you licked the side of her face. You chuckled as you could taste her fear...

"She tastes absolutely divine. What would you do if I took a bite out of her? Like I did with my own medic...?"

"Do that and you lose me forever," Tarn warned and you raised an optical ridge in a questioning manner. "Oh? What are you planning?"

"You have no use in me if I'm dead," Tarn said and those simple words were enough to drain your smile. "What are you-?"

"If you don't let Nickel go, I will offline myself and then you have no reason to do this."

"You wouldn't...!" You hissed and Tarn returned your glare with his own. "Are you willing to test me? You only get one chance in this."

The two of your glares would have been enough to offline any mech weaker than you two...! But finally, you nodded and the tension in the room almost deflated like a balloon.

"Alright. You win. I'll let her go...." You smirked, "On one condition."

"What is it?"

"You take me with you." You said and before Tarn or anyone else could object, you smiled, "Think about it! You and I, we can bring any traitor on their knees and have fun with them...! I can be an asset to you!"

"...Very well..." Tarn finally nodded and you absolutely beamed like a ray of sunshine. "Oh, marvelous, just marvelous!" You cheered as you put the small femme down. As soon as your captive was free, she made a quick dash to her comrades.

"Tarn!" Helex shouted, "They don't have Nickel anymore! We can kill them!"

"No!" Tarn called and everyone froze. Tarn walked up to you and you held his stare as he did yours. The maniac killers up against one another.

"I feel like we are starting something...!" Tarn said and you beamed. "Beautiful, I hope?"

"Something." He nodded but you were happier than ever before. It was obvious that you weren't exactly welcome to the Decepticon Justice Division... But they could learn to accept you.

After all, you were there to stay by your obsession's- No, lover's side.

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

  “ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

   ‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem. 

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

     The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

  “Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

  “Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

  “You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

  “John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

  “Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

   You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

  “Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

  “Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

  “It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

  “Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

  “Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

  “You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

  After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

  “Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

  “Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

  “I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

  “Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

  You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

  “Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

  The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

  You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

  Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

  You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

  You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

  Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

  Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

  Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.  

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

  He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

  “C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

  The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

  “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

  “Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

  The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

  “We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

  “Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

  “I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

  To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

  On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

  He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

  “Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

  “You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.  

  “Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

  “You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

  “Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

  “As in bi-curious?”

  “Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

  When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

    ||\\

  It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

  “Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

  She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV.  “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

  “Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

  “Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

  It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

  The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

  Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

  “Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

  “Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

  “C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

  “Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

  You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

  “Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

  “Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

  “Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

  Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

  Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

  “Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

  He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

  “He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

  “None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

  When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

  “Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

  “You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

  Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

  “Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

  He’s lying. You can tell.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

  “Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

  He’s angry.

  You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

  “Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

  He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

  “Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

  As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

  Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

   Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

  The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

  “Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

  “Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

  You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.    

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

  You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

  “I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

  “Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

  He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

  Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

  “Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

  “Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

  “It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

  He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

  “Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

  “I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

  “Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

  “Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

  “Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

   She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

     You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

  At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  “Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

  “You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

  “It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

  “I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

  “Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

  “Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

  “I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

  “Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

  Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

  As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

  You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

  “Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

  “What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

  “Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

  “Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

  “Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

  “You’re bossy today.”

  You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

  “Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

  “I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.  

  All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

  “Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

  “I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

  “Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

  “Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

  “Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

  “I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

  “I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

  “Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

  “Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

  “I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

        ||\\

  You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

  “I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

  “I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

  “Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

  “I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

  “How can you even say that?” he barked.

  “Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

  He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

  “Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

  “Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

  “I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

   A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it. 

   And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close. 

   Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together.  You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

  “Hello?”

  “Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

  “How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

   He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

  “I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

  “You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

  “That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

  You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

  “It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

  “You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

  “It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

  “Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

  He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

 “Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

  “I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

  “Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

  Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

  As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

  Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

  She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Last time you said that…”

  “I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

  “Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

  He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

  “Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

  “Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

  “You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

  “Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

  “Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

  “I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

  Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

  “What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

  I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

     You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

  But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

  “Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

  “Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

  “I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

  He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

  “I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

  “So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

  “I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

  “Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

   He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

  “Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant. 

  “Yes?”

  “Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly. 

  That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

  “For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

   By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

  “That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

  “What about you?”

  “Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

  “But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

  “That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

  Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.  

  You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

  He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

   Well, shit.

  He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

  You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

  You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

  “You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath.  You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

  You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

  “Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

  “What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

  “We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

  “Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

  You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

  “Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

  “Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

  ||\\

  He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

  He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

  He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

  So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

 ||\\

    “What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

  Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

  You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

  “We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

  “What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

  “Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

  “Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

  “Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

  “Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

  As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

  “Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

  “Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

  He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

  Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

  “Yoongi, what-“

  “Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

  No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

  At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

  “Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

   Brother?

  “How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

  “Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

  “Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

  “People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

  “I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

  “Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

  “I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

  “Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

  “Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

  “It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

  Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

  “Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

  “Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

  Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

  “Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

  Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.    

  There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

  “How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

  He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

  “I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

  “What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

  “Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

  This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

  You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.  

  “Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

   ||\\

                                                       “Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

     It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

  No. He promised.

  You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

  Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

  Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

  You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

  “Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

  “When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

  “I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

  “Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

  He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

  “I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

  “What, now? Y/N-“

  “I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

  Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

  “No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

  He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.”

  As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

  Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

  You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

  You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

  “Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

  He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

  “Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

  Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

  “Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

  “No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

  When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

  Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

 ||\\

    The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

  During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

  “Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

  The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

  “Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

  “Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

  “It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

  “You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

  You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

  “It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

  Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

  Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

  Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

  “Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

  You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

  “Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

  You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

  “So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

  “Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

  “I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

  “Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

  “I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

  “Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

  “Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

  Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

  “H-How come?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

  You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

  “Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

  “That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

  “Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

  “I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

  You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

  “Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

  Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

  “If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

  He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

  “Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

  “Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

  “Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

  “Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

  “Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

  That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

  Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

  “No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

  “Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

  “No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

  He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

  “You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

  You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

  “I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

  You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

  Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

  Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

  During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

  You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

  “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

  “She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

  As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

  “Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

  All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

  “Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

  “We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

  “Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

  “Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

  “Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

  “I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

  “Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

  “I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

  “Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

  Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

  You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

  “Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

  “Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

  “Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

  “Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

  “Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

  “Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

  “What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

  His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

  “Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

  He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

  “Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

  “That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

  His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

  “Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

  He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

  “Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

  “I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

  A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

  “Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  “My place.”

  Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

  “Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

  The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.  

  Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

  He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

  “Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

  He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

  “Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

  You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

  “Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

  Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

  “Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

  His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

  “When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

  “A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

  “Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.  

  “How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

  It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

  “Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

  “I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

  “We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

  “Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

  “You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

  “Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

  “I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

  “Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

  “If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

  His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

  “I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

  “Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

  He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

  “I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

  He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

  You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

  “Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

  “Not even then.”

  “How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

  The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

  “Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

  Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

  Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

  Alright. Great.

  As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

  Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

  “It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

  You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

  “I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

  “Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

  “It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

  Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated  guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

  “Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

  You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

  “Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

  You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

  “It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

  “This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

  “Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

  It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

  Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

  “How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

  His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

  “Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

  As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

  “Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

  “Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

  “Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

  “Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

  “B-But the protocol-“

  “Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

   He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

  “That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

  “If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

  “Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

  Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

  “I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

  “W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

  “Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

  He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

  “You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

  “Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

  “An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

  “You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

  Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

  “My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

  “It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

  “So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

  “Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

  “So you rebelled?”

  “No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

  “I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

  “Because of the devil, right?”

  “Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

   Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

   When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

  Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

   You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

  “I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

  “But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

  “Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

  “I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

  All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

  “Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

  “No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

  You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

  “You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

      There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

  “I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

  “I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

  “Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

  “I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

  “Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

  Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

  You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

  Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

  Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.  

  Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

  “Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

  “Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

  “It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

  By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

  “I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

  His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

  “You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

  “Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

  That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

  “Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

  Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

  “It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

  “Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

  While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

  When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

  “Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

  By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

  “I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

  “Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

  “Can we go home, please?”

 The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

  “Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

  You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

[actress4him]

The Shadow of Death - Survivor’s Guilt

(Day 2 for Angstpril 2022)

I’ve done a few little posts here and there about Shadow aka Kamaria, but this is my first real piece of writing for her. She’s an OC that’s been living in my head for quite some time, and I’m just starting to finally work on her story. I don’t want to get into her backstory too much (spoilers!), but this should be able to stand on its own without too much explanation beyond this - Kamaria is half human, half Vaya (an elf-like race), and she is an assassin.

Warnings: self-deprecation, referenced past genocide, suicidal ideation, implied parental death, overall dark mindset

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It’s been a long time since she came here. Years, though she doesn’t care to stop and count how many. Enough time that the landscape has changed, the creek taking a slightly different path than she remembers and the edge of the forest creeping ever outward. She circles the area twice before she’s certain she has the right place.

It causes shame to crawl up her throat. Her childhood home, the place where every happy memory in her life took place, and she can’t even recognize it when she sees it. She should have visited sooner, but…she wasn’t strong enough. That’s the plain truth of it.

There’s nothing left. She’s isn’t sure if that makes it better or worse. Seeing the empty expanse of grass where there should be homes and gardens eats a hole into her chest, but at the same time, seeing the burned-out remains that she last remembers would probably have been even harder.

Wandering aimlessly to a spot in the center of the field, Kamaria drops down to her knees, running her fingers through the tall grass. Nature has survived, at least. Thrived, even. Despite the war raging all around, she can sense the lush life here, underneath the ground, in the forest, in the creek. If she were less human she could speak to it. Bury her hands in the earth and call out its memories, communicate one survivor to another.

Do you remember them? she asks, knowing that no one else hears. Do you remember how they walked here, full of love and life, caring for you and for each other?

Do you remember me?

Is she even recognizable, anymore? She’s not sure she recognizes herself. The young girl that lived here was full of love and life, just like her family. She knew how to smile, how to forgive.

Now all she knows is hatred and death.

Sometimes she thinks she should only be a memory, too. Just another voice lost to time, drowned out by fire and the hatred of human men. Of all the people who should have survived that day, why was she chosen? There were so many others more worthy, who would have chosen a more noble path than she, who would have done something honorable with the life they were granted.

Instead here she is. A coward. Yes, she’s fighting back against her people’s murderers, but at what cost? Her freedom, her sanity, her honor. Probably one of these days her life, though that thought is more appealing than it is frightening. Every day she wakes up and allows some of the people she hates most in this world to dictate every aspect of her existence. Would the Vaya be proud of her, for living this farce of a life?

Would her mother be proud of her?

Kamaria stands abruptly, too much of a coward to dwell on the answer to that question. The quiet sounds of burbling water and birds calling are suddenly far too loud around her. She isn’t one with nature. She never truly has been. Nature points at her, mocking, asking why this half-blood, this killer, still survives, while the earth she stands on is soaked in the blood of innocents.

She shouldn’t have come here. This place deserves to lie peacefully, touched only by the deer that come to graze and the small mammals that scamper from the forest to take a drink of water. Her presence is a blight, tainting the ground wherever she steps.

Pulling up her mask and hood, she turns her back and slips away into the mountains’ growing shadows.