#door to nothingness

[mtg-cards-hourly]

Door to Nothingness

"I have re-created a Thran portal at last! Before I inform Lord Urza, I'll test it myself." —Oryan, Urzan artificer, final research note

Artist: Svetlin Velinov TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[vvviktor]

When i was 13 i studied a poem by a lesser know poet in my antology and i fell in love with it. I chose to use it in my middle school final exam. The poem is a young man's lament about his broken heart. He is barely 18 and already dying from tubercolosis. His heart bleeds and from the blood asphodels, cemetary flowers, spring up. His poetry is filled with weakness. Teenage love tinted with a premontion, an omen of certain death. I was transfixed by it. Something in the softness of the author's despair, something in the way it is not a violent tragedy, though he cries, though he breaks, there is already a veil covering him. For years i had forgotten about it, for years i couldn't remember the title. This year i found the author in my new antology, but no poem. I searched on the internet but without rembering the title of the first verse i couldn't find it. Until today. Today i had my last exam of liceo and this poem found me again. I think of being 13 again. Hands on the balcony rail, beathing deep, feeling nothing. A mourning veil already covering me. It's been six years and a part of me will always have her hands on the balcony rail. Today i am 19 and i know to not stop at one poem. I let this young dying boy to hold onto me as he drifts to sleep forever, his cotton hospital sheets covered in flowers. It's been six long years. A bigger part of me tries hard to image what his future will look like. Asphodels might have grown in my heart but not on my hands.

Asphodels, Sergio Corazzini

My lady, if a heart I'd offered you

The young and scarlet heart,

and if you, with a magnificent gesture

had accepted it with the verses

of a boy poet, and if you

with the oil of your love

had kept alive its glow

and had satisfied its

whims continuously,

why yesterday did you make it

bleed, did you make it

painfully cry?

All its red drops,

fell onto the earth, silent,

and since they had fell,

the heart moved no more

and like through a spell

in each of them bloomed an asphodel,

the mourning sky-lily

of eternal warning

[longagoitwastuesday]

I actually like the last chapter. I think the ideas are very good. I have my qualms on how some things were managed, as I always do, but I think shonen authors get tangled in the expectations of a shonen to the point it jeopardises their writing, often even when they're not lacking in skills

[angelseraphines]

ೃ⁀➷ pretty when you cry ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🦢 ꒱

╰┈➤ hwang in-ho x player!reader imagine

a/n: i would like to give a special thank you to @lumillsie for the layout of this post and for the filter used on the header! there is also a part one to this imagine, playing dangerous, a part two, do you think you’d kill for me, one day? a part three, ultraviolence, and a part four, shades of cool.

˚ ༘♡ hwang in-ho, the man you once knew as young-il, the man who betrayed you in the most loathsome way imaginable, had taken control of your recovery. he rarely left your side in the early days, overseeing every detail with the precision of someone who understood pain all too well. his compound, sprawling, isolated, and fortified, became your prison. it was a place of unsettling contrasts, sterile medical equipment juxtaposed with lavish decor, soft furnishings that did nothing to dull the edges of the sharp reality you now inhabited.

˚ ༘♡ you were angry, your heart a storm of rage and bitterness, each glance at him igniting the fire anew. though, in the quiet moments, when he checked your bandages or sat silently by your side as you drifted in and out of restless sleep, you found yourself conflicted. his hands, steady and careful, worked with a tenderness that unsettled you more than the betrayal ever had. the small comforts he offered, adjusting your pillows, bringing you tea, gnawed at the walls of your resolve.

˚ ༘♡ days blurred into one another. your questions about jung-bae and gi-hun were met with deflection, his answers vague and evasive. each time you pressed, his expression darkened slightly, as though the weight of those unanswered truths bore down on him as well. “you’ll know when the time is right,” he would say, his voice serene, leaving you fuming with frustration and sorrow.

˚ ༘♡ as the weeks passed, your leg began to heal. the searing pain dulled into an ache, and eventually, the ache faded altogether. though your body recovered, your mind remained caged by the stark truth of your reality. in-ho allowed you freedom within the confines of the compound, but every step you took was shadowed by masked guards, their presence an ever-looming reminder that escape was futile.

˚ ༘♡ you tried anyway.

˚ ༘♡ the night was quiet, the air thick with tension as you crept through the corridors, your heart pounding in your chest. every creak of the floorboards felt deafening, every shadow a potential threat. you had almost made it to what you thought was the outer gate when strong hands grabbed you, pulling you back with a force that sent terror crashing over you. the guards didn’t speak, their blank masks only adding to your dread as they dragged you back to your room, their grip unyielding.

˚ ༘♡ when in-ho appeared later, his expression was unreadable. he didn’t yell or chastise you. instead, he sat across from you, his gaze heavy with something you couldn’t name. “i can’t allow you to leave,” he said softly, his tone devoid of malice. it wasn’t a threat, but it felt worse. his disappointment lingered in the air, suffocating, and you hated the guilt that bloomed in your chest.

˚ ༘♡ time moved forward, and with it, your body healed. the ache in your knee, once sharp and consuming, faded into nothingness, replaced by the intensity of strength you hadn’t felt in weeks. you could walk without hesitation now, no longer second-guessing every step. yet the freedom of movement felt hollow within the compound’s imposing walls. they surrounded you, stark and vast, a constant reminder of your captivity.

˚ ༘♡ you sat on the edge of your bed, your fingers absentmindedly brushing over the faint scar peeking out from beneath the fabric of your clothing. the skin there was pale and slightly raised, a delicate line etched by pain and betrayal. you traced it with a mix of resignation and vexation, trying to reconcile the life you had before with the one you were living now.

˚ ༘♡ the sound of the door opening pulled you from your thoughts. you glanced up to see in-ho stepping inside, his presence filling the room with an air of quiet authority. he no longer wore the faceless mask that had once concealed him, his features open and bare. though his expression was calm, the weight of unspoken words seemed to settle between you, causing the air to feel suffocating.

˚ ༘♡ “would you like to have dinner with me?” he asked. his voice was measured, each word chosen carefully. though his tone was steady, there was an undercurrent of uncertainty, as if he was bracing himself for rejection. it wasn’t a demand, nor was it an expectation, it felt almost… tentative.

˚ ༘♡ you hesitated, your gaze dropping to your hands resting in your lap. your anger hadn’t disappeared, it still lingered, simmering just beneath the surface, but it had softened with time, dulled by the care he had shown you. despite everything, despite the betrayal that still stung, he had been there, ensuring your recovery, tending to you with a patience you hadn’t expected.

˚ ༘♡ “i don’t think so,” you said at last, your tone gentle yet cautious. you weren’t trying to hurt him, though the words clearly did. you saw it in the way his face shifted, the faintest flicker of something vulnerable crossing his features before he composed himself once more.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t leave. instead, he lingered by the door, his hands clasped loosely in front of him. “you need to eat,” he said quietly. his voice lacked its usual authority, replaced instead by something softer, something that bordered on worry.

˚ ༘♡ you turned your gaze toward the window, your focus slipping to the darkened landscape outside. the compound stretched endlessly into the night, its shadowy corners likely crawling with guards you couldn’t see but knew were there. “i’ll eat later,” you replied, the words barely above a murmur. they lacked bitterness, though the weight of unspoken emotion hung in the room.

˚ ༘♡ the silence that followed was thick and suffocating. you expected him to retreat, to leave you to your solitude, but he didn’t move. his presence remained, steadfast and unwavering, as if he refused to let the distance between you grow any wider.

˚ ༘♡ and though you wouldn’t admit it, even to yourself, his refusal to leave made something in your chest ache. it wasn’t anger, or resentment, or even guilt, it was something far more complicated, something you weren’t ready to confront.

˚ ༘♡ you sat on the floor of your room, your legs pulled close to your chest, trembling as grief consumed you. the weight of unanswered questions bore down on you, suffocating and relentless. your heart ached for the friends you’d lost in the chaos of the games, dae-ho, jun-hee, jung-bae, gi-hun, and the others whose faces haunted your dreams. they deserved more than silence. they deserved answers.

˚ ༘♡ tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you pressed your palms into your eyes, your breath hitching with every sob that wracked your chest. the quiet elegance of the room around you only deepened the pain, its pristine luxury a cruel reminder of the blood and suffering you’d endured to end up here. “please,” you whispered, your voice breaking under the weight of the plea. “tell me… tell me what happened to them.”

˚ ༘♡ in ho’s footsteps were slow, deliberate, as he crossed the room to where you sat. you didn’t meet his gaze, you couldn’t. instead, you gripped your knees tighter, shaking your head as the words spilled from your lips in a broken stream. “where are they? are they alive? do they even… do they even have a chance?”

˚ ༘♡ he crouched in front of you, his movements calm but hesitant, as though he feared his presence might shatter you further. his hands hovered near yours, unsure whether to reach out. “i can’t give you the answers you’re looking for,” he said quietly, his tone soft yet somehow unyielding.

˚ ༘♡ “why?” you choked out, anger flaring through the grief as your head snapped up to meet his gaze. “why can’t you? they’re my friends, they…” your voice cracked, and the rest of the sentence dissolved into tears.

˚ ༘♡ he didn’t respond, his silence infuriating and devastating all at once. the patience in his expression was unbearable, as though he thought his stillness could soothe the storm inside you.

˚ ༘♡ your cries grew louder, your sobs echoing in the quiet room as you pounded a fist weakly against his chest. “please,” you begged, the word almost unintelligible through your tears. “don’t do this to me. i need to know.”

˚ ༘♡ still, he said nothing. instead, his arms encircled you, pulling you gently but firmly into his embrace. his warmth was immediate, his presence solid and unyielding. he rested his chin lightly against your hair, his grip tightening as though he feared you might slip away entirely. “shh,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple. “i’m here.”

˚ ༘♡ you shoved him away with what strength you had, though it was feeble compared to his hold. “don’t,” you spat, your voice raw with anger and anguish. “don’t comfort me when you’re the reason they’re gone.”

˚ ༘♡ his hands settled firmly on your shoulders, his grip rigid yet careful, as though he feared hurting you but refused to let you slip away. the strength in his touch sent a wave of frustration through you, fueling a final attempt to twist out of his hold. his chest pressed against yours as he pulled you closer, his body a barrier against your escape.

˚ ༘♡ “let me go,” you demanded, your voice shaking with the effort to sound stronger than you felt. but the words wavered, your conviction cracking under the weight of exhaustion that had crept into your limbs.

˚ ༘♡ “no,” he replied, his tone low but resolute, the firmness in his voice more unnerving than anger would have been. “you need me,” he added, quieter now, his words tinged with a gentleness that made your heart clench. “even if you don’t want to admit it.”

˚ ༘♡ your struggles faltered, the tension in your body draining as the fight ebbed away. you sagged against him, your head dropping slightly, your breathing uneven and strained. his embrace shifted, becoming something softer, something that felt almost protective. his arms wrapped around you fully now, holding you close as though shielding you from a world you didn’t even recognize anymore.

˚ ༘♡ the warmth of his breath brushed against your temple, and you froze as his lips pressed softly to your cheek. the kiss wasn’t meant to persuade or plead; it was a silent confession, an unspoken attempt to reach past your anger.

˚ ༘♡ “i love you,” he murmured, so quietly you might have thought you imagined it if his voice hadn’t carried the weight of those words so deeply.

˚ ༘♡ your entire body stiffened. the confession hit you harder than you could have anticipated, settling heavily in your chest. the sincerity in his voice wrapped around you, tugging at emotions you didn’t want to feel. your throat tightened painfully, but no words came. they wouldn’t. you couldn’t make yourself respond, couldn’t allow yourself to validate the truth in what he said.

˚ ༘♡ instead, silence fell between you, louder and more damning than anything you could have said aloud. his arms didn’t loosen their hold, his face remaining close to yours, his breath steady against your skin.

˚ ༘♡ then, as if sensing your hesitation wasn’t refusal, he leaned in. his lips met yours with a deliberate slowness, a patience that felt entirely at odds with the world he had dragged you into. the kiss was tender, yet there was an unmistakable urgency in the way he moved, as though he needed you to feel the emotions he couldn’t put into words.

˚ ༘♡ you wanted to push him away, wanted to scream that he had no right to this moment, no right to you. but your body betrayed you, your lips trembling as they parted against his. the flood of emotions, anger, despair, confusion, and something dangerously close to longing, surged through you all at once, making it impossible to pull away.

˚ ༘♡ when the kiss broke, your breath came in shallow bursts, your heart pounding erratically in your chest. his hands moved to cup your face, his thumbs brushing against your damp cheeks as his gaze searched yours.

˚ ༘♡ “will you ever let me go?” you asked, the words spilling out before you had a chance to stop them. your voice was fragile, the question carrying all the weight of the fear and longing tangled inside you.

˚ ༘♡ his expression softened, the sharpness of his features dimmed by the flicker of something raw in his eyes. his hands didn’t move, his hold on you steady but not forceful. “i can’t,” he admitted, the words barely above a whisper. his voice cracked slightly, betraying the struggle beneath his calm exterior. “not in my heart.”

˚ ༘♡ the pang in your chest deepened, and the next question came almost involuntarily, your voice trembling under the strain. “will you keep doing this? will you keep the games going?”

˚ ༘♡ his face darkened, but not in anger. it was a shadow of something more potent, regret, or perhaps inevitability. he lowered his head slightly, his forehead close to brushing yours, his words deliberate and gentle. “yes,” he said, the softness of his tone cutting deeper than any cruelty could have. “i have to. one day, you’ll understand why.”

˚ ༘♡ the finality in his voice was suffocating. you stared at him, your tears still falling as you searched his face for any trace of doubt, for even the smallest crack in his conviction. his gaze remained stable, his eyes holding nothing but certainty, an unshakable belief in a path you couldn’t follow.

˚ ༘♡ the silence that followed wasn’t empty, it was heavy, filled with the unsaid words that hung between you. and as his arms tightened around you again, pulling you close to his chest, you felt the hollowness of his words settle into your own heart. hwang in-ho was a man who loved you, but he was also a man you could never truly understand.

a/n: part five!!! let me know if you have any requests and your thoughts on the story so far!!🤍

[kruegerspillow]

simon riley who just needs to be understood. that's all. one whole jar of pity wouldn't do it, he needs you to acknowledge him. and, when you do, he'll surrender himself faster than he should.

The rain pours down heavily against the roof, the sound of pitter-patters humming throughout your house.

It had been weeks ever since Simon's leave and the sudden change hits you harder than a damn truck. It's just going to be a few weeks, he wrote down in the letter. But, you never really believed him, no. Fuck, you know he'd do anything (that includes lying) just for you to be at ease.

Though, the bed felt colder than before. Your place felt even more... tense, with the feeling of unease running through your body and the unusual, eerie silence. His job wasn't an easy one, and with the fact that his life is on the line, it made it worse.

Your heartbeat quickened as you looked down at your phone, scrolling through the messages and pictures Simon had sent the other day. You don't understand how soldiers could be so composed in the middle of the battlefield, including Simon himself. You'd be damned if you heard a single gunshot ringing across you.

Suddenly, the familiar sound of a car engine knocked you out of your trance. Your head perked up, a feeling of hope sparking up in your weary heart. Could it be him? You thought to yourself. He's earlier than usual.

You placed your phone on the table, gaze locking onto the front door as you leaned back against the armrest of the couch, a pillow pressed against your back. The sound of the engine eventually came to a stop, then—

Click.

There he was. Simon motherfuckin' Riley.

He took off his boots and placed them aside as soon as he met your gaze. The smell of rain and dirt lingered around him, but he didn't care anymore. Not when the love of his life is right in front of him, waiting patiently to be placed into his embrace. But, he's fuckin' exhausted, and he can't help but let the feeling of fatigue take over his body.

He closed the door behind him, walking towards you with a look of deep longing and care. His bags were left right beside the front door. Your eyes travelled over his figure, searching for any new scars or wounds.

"Bloody 'ell, I missed ya s'much." He murmured, his voice raspy and carried a handful of emotions.

Before you knew it, he plopped down onto you, head resting against your plump thighs, earning an amused gasp from you. His arms softly wrapped around your waist, slipping underneath your shirt before caressing your bare skin. You sighed in content, relaxing beneath him before your hands made their way to his hair, running your fingers through his hair.

"Welcome home, Simon." You greeted him, your voice filled with warmth and relief.

He grunted in response, burying his face between your thigh, causing you to nearly whimper in response. But you knew he ran out of the energy, having finished a tiring deployment. Your gaze softened at the sight before you. Sometimes, even the strongest souls get exhausted.

"Want me to make tea for you, love?" You softly whispered into his ear.

He shook his head, wanting to hold you just for a while (that's a lie. He'd go through the whole month burying his face into you) and you understood, staying silent as you embraced him. You let him do his thing and fuck he was turned on by that mere fact. But, for now, lust was long forgotten, buried away by the need of your comfort and warmth.

Your hands gently massaged his tense shoulder, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch. Slowly, his vision fades into nothingness, for your touch has provided comfort even to the soul of the corrupt. Surrendering himself into sleep had never felt so... easy.

And, soon, he'll show you just how lucky he is to have you.

kruegerspillow © 2024 ➵ do not feed my work into ai, repost or translate my work. Reblogs are much appreciated ୨ৎ

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining being nervous around the 141 and yet STILL garnering their attention.

Like, you've done everything in your power NOT to get noticed. You're as happy as a clam to work on all the behind the scenes issues. You don't even go out on the field!

You're the one to get gear in place, you're the one talking to Nik and supervising the equipment repairs. You make sure the armory is stocked and that the showers aren't running with rusty water.

You really DON'T want any eyes on you.

You just want to do your job and do it in fucking peace.

So why the hell are they always wanting your attention?

-

"There she is. Keepin' everything in order while 'm gone." Price chuckles, placing a hand on your back as he passes through the armory's narrow shelves. "Looking to take my spot as Captain hm, Love?"

You bury your face into your clipboard, trying desperately to ignore him. He's not going away but God do you want him to. His presence is always so overwhelming and his gaze so pointed. If you could shrink into nothingness you'd try.

-

"Oi, Bonnie!" Soap calls out to you at mess. He waves his arms wildly, making everyone look his way. "C'mere! Sit w' us today!"

He's so loud his voice echoes across the cafeteria. Recruits and lower ranking members shrink at the sound of it. So do you, even though you can hear only excitement in his tone instead of the usual ire he employs while training the rookies.

You know that if you decide to sit with your friends you'll never hear the end of it. But if you choose to sit with him and the rest of the all star task force you'll be under their gazes for the better part of the morning. You want to just drop your lunch tray and run out, but on unsteady legs and a bowed head you shuffle to the table.

-

"Well well, look who it is." Gaz huffs, looking up from his terminal set up in the surveillance room. "Thanks for packing those extra headset chords for me."

"Uh...yeah, no problem." You nod, trying to ignore him while simultaneously digging in an old box full of wires.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

"Uh...a mouse. A wireless one."

"Here, take mine." He smiles, unplugging the tiny chip from the side of his laptop. "Need a new one anyway."

"It's alright I-"

"Just take it. You deserve it more than me." He hums, looking away wistfully. "If it weren't for those extra cords we wouldn't 'ave been able to call for evac on that last mission."

You take the mouse into your palm, feeling uneasy. Something about his demeanor isn't right. Gaz is always confident and sure. But the way he glances at you before he turns back to the computer makes you worried.

Is he...jealous?

You slip out of the door and close it behind you without making a sound.

-

"Need t' put a bell on you." Ghost grumbles. "Can't hear you n' those."

You stop midway down the hallway, confused and nervous.

You look down at your old, beat up reg boots from your PT days. They were definitely in need for a decommissioning, but they were comfy despite the fact that the soles had no tread anymore.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." You awkwardly mumble. "Need new ones."

"No."

You raise a brow at him. It was just the two of you in one of the maintenance hallways which was, ironically enough, poorly maintained. The overhead fluorescents flickered and made it hard to focus.

"Keep 'em." He nods, turning away and showing you the full breadth of his back. He mutters at you as while he keeps walking on.

"Keeps you under the radar."

[kyseya]

Yandere beast

This inspired by Beauty & the Beast.

————————————————

Yandere prince who has everything one could desire. He is royalty after all. There is nothing he cannot have and he is used to it being that way; the king and queen had spoilt him to no end.

Yandere prince who is mean and selfish. He treats everyone at the palace like dirt. He doesn’t even seem to carry much respect for his own parents. No, they’re used to give into his whims. The servants are all laughed at by him, he does not care when he sees the tears running down their faces at the cruel comments. His biggest talent may just be wickedness.

Yandere prince who does have one person he actually likes: you. You are the one exception. As the child of a servant, you too, were subjected to his bullying in the beginning. The people always had one of two reactions to him, either they stayed down and wept, or they started fuming. Both options were equally funny to the spoiled prince. However you surprised him, because you did neither. Whenever he was mean to you, you took it in silence before asking about his day. This bewildered him to no end. Why would you ask such things? It didn’t make sense. The more he bullied you though, the more intrigued he became. You were always kind, no matter the person; even to him. It was after that he decided he loved that about you.

Yandere prince who opened the door to a stranger. It was a heavy storm that night. If anyone were to be caught in it they would surely not survive. The stranger asked for shelter, and as payment the prince would receive a single rose. This made him scoff. The audacity some had. He turned them away as fast as they had come. Unfortunately for him this was no ordinary human. The stranger revealed themselves to be a magician. They told him they saw no love in his heart and therefore he should be punished for his cruelty.

That night his life changed for ever; now he was a monster. He sprouted fur all over his body, his nose grew into a long snout and a tail with spikes protruded from his lower back.

Yandere beast who has lost all his beauty. He was nothing other than hideous. Such a creature should surely be hidden out of sight. Not only did he lose his appearance that night, he also lost his status. The king and queen were horrified at his new form. This turn of event was not what they prepared for. Disgusted with him they sent him to a dreary little castle on the country side where no one would ever lay eyes on him.

Filled with despair he wallowed in shame; for his appearance and his situation. The only thing that could break the curse was if he learned to love someone and earn their love in return. Clearly, his parents did not believe the curse could be lifted, which was the reason they sent him away. They couldn’t have him at court anymore after all. Perhaps they were also glad to be rid of him once and for all.

Yandere beast who was all alone in his castle. He was left without servant or any gold. He was not used to a life without luxury. He thought he’d be alone forever and waste into nothingness, but he was surprised by you once more. You had come to the castle and chose to work there. When you’d told the king and queen of your decision they could not fathom why you would do such a thing when you were under no obligation to do it. You knew how horrible the prince was to all your colleagues, but you saw that underneath all that pride was an insecure young boy who wanted attention. It was not an excuse for his behaviour though. Still, your kindhearted nature made you want to help him.

Yandere beast who is elated with your presence. Now that he has company he is not as pessimistic. He always had a soft spot for you but now the fondness has turned into a full blown obsession. He loves you so much! When no one else was there for him and his life got turned into shamble, you stood by his side- willingly too! You weren’t frightened by his hideous form, no, you held his hand and stroked his snout without a care in the world. You were clearly the one to break the curse!

Yandere beast who does everything to make you fall for him and love him just as much as he loves you. Are you hungry? Good, because his transformation made him a great hunter! Are you in the mood for deer or rabbits? This monstrous prince can offer you a lot more than any normal prince or commoner human. No one can protect you as well as he can; his strength and sharp senses is the one upside to the curse. When the two of you marry, he’ll get back his title and whisk you away to a new castle. This one will be filled with the luxuries he bathed in before, and you’ll be forced to swim in them too whether you want to or not.

Could you ever love this beast?

[amirasainz]

landos little sister is super shy and does get along with the drivers but she likes to just cling to lando the entire time which he loves but oscar. she meets oscar and suddenly she has a favorite driver that’s not lando and lets oscar hold her and spend time with her. lando is not even mad because his sister’s personality is so much like oscar he knew she would love him. the others drivers are pouting

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

A Silent Connection

Yn had never been one for the spotlight, much like her brother Lando. While he thrived in the chaos of the Formula 1 world, cracking jokes and charming everyone around him, Yn was content to sit in the background, quietly observing, far more interested in watching the cars roar past than in the whirlwind of media, fans, and endless chatter.

She’d always been a little shy, a bit introverted. As a result, the paddock felt like an overwhelming place to be. She only had one person to lean on: Lando. He was her anchor. They’d grown up together, and even though they’d both grown up in the fast-paced world of racing, Lando was the only person Yn felt truly at ease with. So, when he invited her to spend time at a Grand Prix, she didn’t hesitate. It was easier for her to be around familiar faces, the ones who understood her need for space.

However, this particular weekend at the Italian Grand Prix in Monza, things were about to change in the most unexpected way.

---

It was a quiet morning at the paddock. Lando had gone off for a meeting with his engineers, leaving Yn alone on the couch in the McLaren hospitality area. She was sipping her coffee, gazing at the monitors around her that showed various bits of the weekend's events. The usual buzz of the paddock filled the air — the low hum of mechanics working on cars, the excited chatter of team members — but to Yn, it felt like all of that noise was in the background, fading into nothingness.

She had found a corner to nestle into, out of sight, where she could drink her coffee in peace. She’d done this countless times, sitting quietly and observing her brother’s world from a distance. But today, she wasn’t the only one sitting in the corner.

The door to the lounge opened quietly, and someone walked in. Yn glanced up to find Oscar, the young Australian driver, who had just joined McLaren that year. He looked around for a seat and, seeing the empty space next to Yn, he slid into the couch next to her without a word.

Yn, startled by his sudden presence, looked over at him. He was sipping his own coffee, staring blankly ahead at the monitors, his usual calm demeanor settling around him. She didn’t mind the silence. In fact, she liked it. There was no pressure to talk, no need for awkward small talk. Just the comfortable sound of people moving around them, the occasional chuckle of engineers, and the faint noise from the track outside.

Oscar, sensing her gaze, gave her a brief, polite smile. She smiled back shyly but didn’t say anything. He seemed to understand that she wasn’t much for words, and he didn’t push.

For the next hour, they sat there in perfect silence, each with their coffee, neither of them feeling the need to fill the air with conversation. For the first time in a long while, Yn felt a sense of peace. She didn’t feel judged or expected to speak. She could just… exist.

The moment was simple but profound, and it became something they both began to look forward to. Every time Yn visited the paddock in the following weeks, Oscar was there. It became their routine: he would quietly enter, glance at her, and then take a seat beside her. They would drink their coffee in silence, occasionally exchanging a nod or a smile, but mostly just enjoying the calm company.

---

It wasn’t long before Lando noticed the change in his sister. While Yn had always been content to stick by his side, she was beginning to spend more time in the lounge with Oscar. At first, he’d assumed it was just a coincidence, maybe they were talking strategy or something related to the racing side of things. But then he saw it for himself one day — the two of them sitting there together, silently enjoying their drinks, looking comfortable in each other’s company.

“You’re spending a lot of time with Oscar lately,” Lando remarked one day, raising an eyebrow as he slid into the seat across from Yn and Oscar.

Yn’s cheeks flushed slightly, but she only shrugged, her usual reserved nature still evident. “He’s… nice to be around,” she said quietly, looking down at her coffee cup.

Lando chuckled, not surprised by his sister’s understated response. He knew Yn well enough to know that “nice” was about as much as she’d give away. He didn’t mind, though. In fact, he was happy. Yn had always been so shy around everyone, and now she had found someone she could spend time with without feeling pressured. He had always wanted her to feel more comfortable in the paddock, and Oscar was a good friend — even if he wasn’t the most extroverted person, either.

Oscar, sitting beside Yn, shot Lando a casual smile. “We don’t talk much, but she’s good company. It’s… easy to be around her.”

Lando grinned. “I’m glad to hear that, mate. You’re welcome to hang out with her whenever you want. Just don’t steal her away from me completely.”

Yn’s face flushed again, but she didn’t say anything. She liked how easy it was to be with Oscar. Unlike the other drivers who constantly tried to engage her in conversation or expect her to join in their chaotic paddock discussions, Oscar didn’t push. He never tried to draw her out of her shell, never made her feel like she had to talk. He simply existed in the same space as her, and that was all she needed.

---

As the weeks went on, the friendship between Oscar and Yn grew. It wasn’t loud or attention-grabbing, but it was real. Whenever she had a free moment, Yn would be found with Oscar, sitting side by side, watching the monitors or sipping on their coffees in the lounge. It was a quiet companionship that seemed to suit them both perfectly.

Oscar, who had always been a bit reserved, found himself becoming more outgoing around Yn. It wasn’t that she asked him to, but somehow, his presence around her made him feel more comfortable, more willing to open up. It wasn’t like he was suddenly a social butterfly, but he’d start offering her small bits of conversation, teasing her gently, and making her smile. She didn’t feel like she had to respond, but she appreciated it all the same.

“You’re not as quiet as you used to be,” Lando said one day, his grin wide as he watched Oscar try to make his sister laugh.

Oscar shrugged sheepishly. “Maybe I’m just getting used to the silence,” he said with a grin. “It’s nice.”

Yn, for her part, didn’t mind it at all. She liked how Oscar had become a bit more expressive for her. It was like he had learned how to communicate in the way she preferred — without overwhelming her with noise or pressure.

---

The other drivers began to notice the growing bond between Oscar and Yn. They couldn’t help but feel a bit jealous, especially since Yn rarely spoke to them. Even the more talkative ones, like Max and Charles, found it a little odd that she seemed to reserve her energy for Oscar. It was clear that they were becoming friends, and the rest of the paddock wasn’t quite sure how to react.

“Have you noticed how quiet she is around us?” Max asked Charles one day, watching from the sidelines as Oscar and Yn exchanged a few words before falling back into their familiar silence.

Charles nodded. “Yeah, it’s like she only talks to Oscar now. It’s… strange.”

Lando, overhearing their conversation, couldn’t help but laugh. “Relax, guys. She’s not interested in being the life of the party. She’s got her own thing going with Oscar, and that’s cool with me. I’m just happy she’s found someone she can be herself around.”

Max and Charles exchanged glances. Maybe they were just a little envious that Yn, usually so shy, had managed to form such a quiet but solid bond with someone. But Lando was right — it wasn’t about stealing attention. It was about finding peace.

---

In the months that followed, Oscar and Yn continued to sit in their corner of the paddock, side by side, silent but comfortable. Lando was happy that his sister had found someone who understood her, and the drivers, while a little envious, began to understand the unspoken connection between the two.

It was simple. It was quiet. But for Yn and Oscar, it was exactly what they both needed.

[celestiamour]

Can you please write an imagine for kang dae-ho where he’s having the panic attack and the reader tires to calm him down/ comfort him?

ft. kang dae-ho x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ calming him down during his panic attack┊0.6k words

setting: season 2, episode 7 contains: descriptions of panic attacks, mentions of toxic masculinity, could be romantic or platonic but intended to be romantic 

➤ author's note: this baby :(

he looked a complete wreck with the blood of another smeared on his right cheek, shaky hands trying to gather up all the magazines from the pockets of the guards and stuttering up a storm every time someone tried to talk to him, not saying anything other than “magazines in pockets, help me gather the magazines in their pockets. you and a few others rushed to help him gather them up in a jacket used as a makeshift bag before he rushed out the double doors with nothing more than a few nods as a form of thanks.

then dae-ho suddenly rushed back, running into one of the empty far corners and huddling up as if to protect himself from the danger he just escaped from. people began to murmur asking what was up with him like the red on his skin wasn’t as clear as day, the very same able-bodied men who voted to stay in these death games for their own selfish needs yet were too cowardly to volunteer for the benefit of all the remaining players. it pissed you off to no extent how most of these men could sit on their asses away from the battle and talk like he was weak. you wished you had joined him and the rest in the rebellion, but they told you it was no place for a woman without military experience. 

you approached him nervously like one would with an injured wild animal, watching as he rocked his body back and forth covering his hands. “... hey… are you alright?” you mentally punched yourself for the stupid question. trying not to make any sudden movements, you climbed onto the bed when he finally noticed you.

there were tears all along his waterline starting to drip down his face, eyes wide and completely glossed over. he started apologizing profusely even though you weren’t the person it was supposed to be directed to, lips trembling and voice strained to a higher pitch than normal. it’s a jarring contrast in comparison to his usual attitude and it broke your heart.

“do you… want a hug?” you really weren’t sure how to comfort him, hugs usually worked for children who cried over scraped knees, but you didn’t know what to do with a man suffering from a panic attack due to shellshock.

thankfully though, it was exactly what he needed. he basically threw himself on you, freely sobbing with his head rested in your lap and arms wrapped around your waist. he cried that he was a failure whose time in the military amounted to nothing, a mere boy his father would be ashamed of, and a coward who couldn’t help his friends when they needed him most. his words were barely understandable between choked-up sobs, but it was clear he was letting out thoughts that were buried under years of being unable to express himself emotionally 

you were a little hesitant to stop his rambling, but eventually shushed him by gently placing a hand on his head and soothingly running your fingers through his hair, promising he wasn’t any of those things and very brave to have agreed to go in the first place. you spoke softly and held onto him, bringing his head to your chest so that he could listen to your steady heartbeat to help ground him and wipe away some of his tears while telling him that you were there for him without any intentions of leaving soon. 

your words uplifted his heart, but truth be told, your mere presence was enough. he could feel the eyes of others nosily watching, but they didn’t matter at the moment and seemed to melt away into nothingness. all his focus was just on you, and soon, he became quiet, feeling calm and renewed with a sudden determination to finish his mission setting fire to his soul.

[redcherrykook]

──── ๋࣭ ⭑ irish coffee ! ( s & c )

‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿

↳ part of 𝓦𝓗𝓘𝓢𝓚𝓔𝓨 ꩜ .ᐟ

❝ [ husband!Jungkoook universe] ¡! ❞

✎ summary: a whiskey fueled coffee cocktail thats the perfect mix of caffeine and numbness to relieve your stress

or- jungkook eats you out because you're overworked. kisses, body worship, comforting jungkook

note from cherry: #needthat also... surpirse!! (not proofread)

‿︵︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵︵‿

the front door of your house - shared, freshly furnished house- slams shut.

"rough day baby?" your husband asks, painted in the light of your kitchen's illuminating bulb, a small scowl runs through your expression

"horrible. everyone is late on deadlines and i'm being blamed for not having the reports ready" you sigh, ridding yourself of the thick winter coat that's appropriate to shield you from seoul's januruary tempretures

his steps grow closer, as you set your shoes aside, jungkook's large palms find the curve of your hips,

"you need a break ma, been doin' so much" he mutters, rubbing up and down your figure with care,

"gonna let me take care of you won't you?" content sighs leave your lips while his dance along your jawline, creating a trail down to your delicate neck, skilming the soft skin with healing open mouth kisses

"hm.. want you to relax" he adds, the cold metal reminder of your joined life grazes your cheekbone, his knuckles soothing that stressed look into lust- love, and slowly everything bad evaporates into nothingness

"c'mon, jump f'me baby" following, he grabs your thighs, wrapping them around his hips, immediately he walks toward your bedroom, big round eyes growing darker in their chocolate brown, desire floods him- the desire to please you, relieve your worries into moans of his name

"you're so good to me" you speak for the first time since his hands landed on you, watching his pierced lip curl into a small smile, your now bra clad back meets the cotton cushions,

"gotta be, you're my wife, my precious lil' wifey" you chuckle softly- letting him feel up all over you, wandering to caress every tense inch of you- shoudlers, arms, hips, stomach, chest and soon you can't even remeber what you were so stressed about- not when he unclips your bra and takes your nipple in between his lips

"kook.." you trail off, closing your lids to feel the extend of his love, he flicks his tongue over it- rolling the pebbled nub with his wet muscle to hear your little moan. simultaneously his fingers take the other swell into his hands, rubbing it gently,

"such a pretty girl baby.. so perfect" the air blown out of his words raises tingles on your skin, jungkook takes his time to love on you, addicted to watching your lips part after he flicks harder, captivated by the whine of his name whe he pinches the opposite nipple in his fingers

"need to take good care of this beautiful body baby, hear me?" now kissing down the valley between your breasts, his gaze finds your half lidded eyes, "mhm.." you hum in response,

"yeah? gonna kiss and soothe every ache of yours ma, make you feel so good" he whispers, gliding his tongue along with the slow, intense kisses that find your stomach, his hands accompany them by grazing his fingers along your waistline, down to rub small circles on your hips

your fingers fly into his dark hair in a heartbeat- the real ache now pulsating between your legs, drooling with the need to be cared for, "baby.. feels so good" you tell him, fixated on his button nose that presses against your panty covered clit, nuzzling into it with his eyes closed in pleasure

"you're so perfect, my poor thing, so stressed.. gonna let your husband take care of you hm? make you cum and let it all go?" you moan is answer enough for him, he continues to suck and kiss further down, on your right thigh, caressing the left.

jungkook groans in satisfaction with every slow, heated kiss that leaves wet trails on you, inching further to the evident stain on your panties, he can smell your arousal, his cock twitches at the smell of it, so so needy, so ready to be loved

"my hands feel good on you baby? like how i kiss all your worries away?"

"being so good for me, letting me love all on this gorgeous body"

"way too cute to be stressed like this"

he mutters while finally pushing the soaked tiny piece of fabric down your thighs, it pools at your ankles, collecting there to reveal your seashell

he bites into his pink bottom lip to supress a loud moan that would have escaped at the sight- so dewy, clit so puffy and loud for attention that he wastes no time giving in to

"fuck kook, just like this" you can't help but praise the way his tongue runs flat against your clit, slowly flicks at it with the tip only to lapp up everything that's spiling from your folds, teasing you as much as he is patient- takes his sweet sweet time to lazily circle your clit, suck at it only with a little amount of pressure

its driving you crazy, oh so crazy how good his sensual groans vibrate on your skin,

"mhmm.. taste so sweet baby" he speaks into you, bringing his large palms to hook your legs over his shoulders without the time to register his change of heart- he's burrying his tongue inside of your cunt, licking fat stripes up to flick your clit faster, harder and goes right back to fucking you with his tongue

"shit- shit yes yes oh-" you ramble, clenching your eyes so tight you can feel the sparks of color appear right in front of you, the loud buzzing inside your eardrums had long dissolved into fragments of jungkook's pleasure, now going to quiet down every nerve in your body- with the exception of the ones hes sucking on while having burried two of his long digits into your tightness

"gonna come for me aren't you baby? make a mess on my fingers?" he asks, strumming your insides with deep strokes that refrence a "come here" motion, you nod pathetically between the parting of your lips and breathy- barely audible whines that are tumbling out senselessly

"yeah? you will? what a good girl.. come on, let it all go" his soft bur growly words of encouragement are enough for you to collapse into exctasy at the next deep stroke and hungry kiss to your sensitive clit, he lets you feel it all out, slowing down his pace until your thighs have returned to normal, until he can see your pretty- big eyes innocently staring down at him

he withdraws his fingers entirely, immediately shoving them down his mouth to gather your relieve in his mouth, humming contently as it hits him

"did so good f'me ma" jungkook rasps, patting your thighs with his hands before pulling you on top of his hard chest, nestling one of his fingers to your scalp,

"you have a way to make everything easier. even if its sometimes.. well, this" you giggle shyly, rubbing the tip of your nose to his neck- the scent of belonging floats into your mind

"yeah? so you feel better hm?" he questions- leaving a kiss to the top of your head, his other arm secures you even closer to him as he smiles- "so much better. why was i tense again?"

jungkook laughs in that silly chuckle that you feel in love with long ago,

"exactly. wanna take a bath and watch your show? the 4th season just came out"

you wouldn't wanna be married to anyone else.

[slashmagpie]

Break Like an Artist

My fic for @hermitadaymay's Solstice Social Collaborative Fanwork Event! I was paired up with the wonderful @eydilily to create something spooky, dramatic and contemplative featuring Gem and Pearl, and it's been an absolute blast putting this together. Please go check out Eydi's art for this AU, it's absolutely gorgeous. CWs: description of a corpse, dismemberment, loss of awareness, fire/flooding/destruction, and depiction of a panic attack. Wordcount: 5.8k

There is a plague sweeping Pearl's hometown.

One by one, she watches as her friends fall to the infection, the colour and life drained out of them and leaving hollow, apathetic husks behind. Even with the devastating loss of her friends, her village, and her regular life, the worst part of this situation is not the infection.

It's that Pearl knows that Gem is the one spreading it.

[Read on AO3]

It’s a grey day in the fishing village that Pearl calls her home. Not that it’s ever not a grey day, at least not anymore. She stares out of her window at the thick encompassing fog that’s claimed the bay, at the desaturated buildings that dot the shore, and she twirls her paintbrush in her fingers. 

The canvas is blank, of course. She doesn’t remember the last time she sat down to paint and didn’t end up with a blank canvas. It must have been—months ago, at least. Back when the last monster from the depths had attacked, and not a single person had had the heart to fight back. When Tango’s house had been shattered in two, and Tango with it.

(He seems to be dealing well with the loss of his arm, at least. Or, as well as you can deal with anything, when the only things inside of you are all-consuming numbness and apathy. Pearl feels it in her chest, the yawning emptiness, and thinks that if she were to lose her arm right here and now, she also wouldn’t be able to summon the energy to care.)

She’d painted after that, though. She remembers it vividly, waking from a nightmare and running to her studio to capture lashing tentacles and inky waters and splatters of crimson blood. It’s a frenzied piece, a disturbing piece, and the moment she’d finished it she’d been filled with so much dread that she’d turned it around to face the wall and refused to look at it since.

The dread’s gone now. Along with the anxiety, and the uncertainty, and the fear. It’s all gone, and Pearl’s left sitting here, paints drying on the palette as she stares at an empty canvas.

Across the house, she hears her front door swing open and closed. A familiar voice shouts, “Pearl? Pearl, where are you?”

“Studio,” Pearl calls back, her voice flat. She continues to twirl the paintbrush as she waits for Gem to trek her way across the house to find her.

“Studio,” Gem echoes as she pushes open the door. “Oh, Pearl, are you painting again? Oh, I’m so happy for—oh.” The joy in her voice vanishes as she takes in Pearl, sitting on her stool, paintbrush raised and canvas empty. “Oh, Pearl…” 

Sympathy. Pity. Concern. Pearl can pick apart the emotions in Gem’s voice, even if she can’t feel them herself. She stares back blankly, because she can’t find it in herself to care about either aspect of the situation, whether it be her own inability to paint or the way that Gem’s looking at her like she’s a wounded animal.

“Come on,” Gem says softly, crossing the room and gently prying the brush from Pearl’s fingers. Pearl lets her. She’s not really painting, anyway. “Let’s get you to bed, shall we? A nap will do you some good.”

Pearl lets Gem help her up, lets Gem allow Pearl to lean on her for support as they make their way back to Pearl’s bedroom. It’s not like Pearl has any difficulty walking. She’s not sick, she’s not injured, she’s just…

Cold. Empty. Not quite lifeless, not in the way Mumbo had been when she’d last seen him, skin and eyes and hair all the same shade of grey-white-nothingness as he’d stared into the distance, completely unresponsive. Listless, maybe, is the better word. She’s halfway to a fate worse than death and she cannot find it in her to care at all.

She feels colder where Gem touches her. She looks down, and she’s not sure if it’s her eyes playing tricks on her, or if her skin is more desaturated where it brushes against Gem’s. She lets Gem help her into bed, lets Gem fluff the pillows and fuss around her, lets Gem sit next to her as she hands Pearl a bowl of soup (“Your favourite!”) and watches her to make sure she eats.

If Pearl were more herself, she would care about what Gem’s doing to her. Care enough to stop it, maybe. Care enough to—no, not to confront her. Every time she’d tried, the words had gotten stuck in her throat. Because she’s known for a long time who’s been behind all of this, behind the corruption leeching all colour from their village, their home, their friends—

And she’d never said anything. Too worried about Gem’s feelings. Too worried about their friendship.

…Pearl realises, as Gem goes to take the empty bowl and brushes her hands against Pearl’s, that she’s not worried anymore.

She waits quietly as Gem washes the bowl in her kitchen, chattering to fill the silence as she does, updating Pearl on their friends’ conditions. Her tone is bright and optimistic, even as her words are dour. Scar seems to be doing the same. Grian’s getting worse. Joel’s down to communicating only in broken phrases—but he should be fine. It definitely won’t be like Mumbo, or Cub, or…

Gem returns to Pearl’s room, regarding her for a long moment before bending down to give her a hug. “Get better soon, okay?” she says into Pearl’s ear. “It’s not the same doing my rounds without you.”

Pearl knows that she’s not getting better. So does Gem, so Pearl doesn’t bother pointing it out. She just nods, lets Gem withdraw, lets Gem run one last hand through her hair.

“You should rest, Pearl,” Gem says, stepping away from Pearl’s bedside. “I’m going to go check on Impy now—”

Pearl’s moving before she’s even properly registered it, grabbing onto Gem’s wrist with force, holding her in place. Gem freezes. Pearl looks up at her through strands of greasy, greying hair.

“Gem,” she says, and it’s the first thing she’s said in days, and her voice is hoarse and her throat sore from the strain.

“...Pearl?” Gem replies, and she sounds almost scared.

“Gem,” Pearl repeats, getting used to the sound of her own voice in her mouth again. “I know.”

Gem laughs. It’s a nervous, tittering sound, the laugh Pearl remembers from when they’d gotten into trouble together as kids. “Know what?” she asks, voice strained. 

“That it’s you,” Pearl says flatly. 

Gem stares at her.

Pearl stares back.

Gem swallows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says. “Pearl—”

“I know you’re the one doing this to us,” Pearl says, more specific this time, choosing her words carefully, and Gem—

Gem tries to pull away.

Pearl tightens her grip. 

“Pearl,” Gem whines, eyes wide, tugging. “Let me go—”

“Why?” Pearl croaks, and Gem snaps her mouth shut.

---

Pearl’s in the midst of mixing a particularly tricky shade of green when there’s a loud, frantic knock on her front door. She sighs, setting down her brush to rest, and gets to her feet. “I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on!” she calls as the knocks continue, echoing through the house.

She pulls the door open and Tango’s there, a nervous ball of energy, just about ready to bolt. “Pearl!” he calls. “Pearl, come on, we gotta go—” 

He grabs her by the arm and drags her off. Pearl just barely manages to close her front door behind her.

“Wha—? Where are we going? What’s going on?”

“Something washed up on shore,” Tango explains. “The whole town’s there, c’mon.”

Accepting that she’s not going to get an explanation out of him, and now deeply curious about this something, she lets Tango lead her down to the shore by the lighthouse. Sure enough, the whole town is there, a chattering crowd gathered around a spot on the shore that Pearl can’t quite see. Impulse is standing on the edge of the crowd and catches sight of them, raising his arm in a wave. Tango makes a beeline towards him, ducking under the crowd, and Pearl follows behind, apologising to False and Keralis as she bumps into them.

“Did you decide what to do with it yet?” Tango asks as he comes to a halt and finally lets Pearl go.

Impulse shakes his head. “We’ve decided it’s Gem’s call,” he says. “After all, she’s the—”

He doesn’t finish his sentence as the crowd suddenly goes silent and parts for Gem, her hair wild and eyes wide behind her thick-rimmed glasses. She’s got her lab coat pulled on over her day clothes, clearly not prepared for this in the slightest. She reaches the front of the crowd and stops dead still, staring at the thing that has washed up on the shore.

Pearl follows her friend’s gaze, and sees it for the first time.

It’s a body. Of course it is. A corpse, taken by the sea and ravaged by the waves and washed ashore by the brutal bay currents. The body’s clothes are torn and sodden, the skin beneath so pale that it could practically be paper. Pearl is stricken, for a moment, with the mental image of her taking a brush to this canvas, filling it back in with colour, painting contours back into its skin, breathing life back into the body.

She shakes her head violently, banishing the thought. Where did that come from? This isn’t a canvas, it’s—

It’s a person. A person who was alive, and is now dead, washed up on the beach like a dead whale and just as much of a spectacle. His eyes are open but rolled back, only the whites showing, and his hair is white too, just as pale as his skin. It stands as sharp contrast against the dark fabric of his torn clothes, a mask wrapped around the bottom half of his face.

Pearl swallows hard and averts her gaze back to Gem, who looks just as disturbed by the body as Pearl feels. It takes Gem longer to pull her eyes away, to glance around the crowd. “I’ll—I’ll take it back to my lab,” she says. “Investigate, and—and give him a proper burial.”

The words reassure the crowd, a low chatter beginning up again. 

“Skizz, will you help me carry him?” Gem calls.

Skizz does, stepping forward from the crowd and helping Gem maneuver the bloated corpse. Pearl finds herself looking at it again, noticing dark striations in the skin, caught in glimpses between the tears in the clothing as it’s moved. 

She shakes her head again, forces herself to look away as the body is carried out and the crowd disperses. The image of the body lingers in her mind. Something settles uncomfortably in her stomach, and she wishes that she’d never opened the door.

---

Things go back to normal after that. Or, well, as normal as they get in the village, at least. False monitors the currents and warns of any incoming floods or monster attacks. Impulse and Tango work maintenance on the fishing boats that Grian and Skizz and Keralis take out into the bay. Mumbo runs the fish market. Cub and Scar come and go along the trading routes. Joel maintains security, or at least the illusion of it.

Gem hides away in her lab running experiments she never explains, and Pearl paints.

She tries to return to her usual fare, brightly-coloured landscapes with fantastical features, but something about her paintings rings hollow when she looks at them. She decides she needs a change, to switch things up and just relax, so she pulls out her paints and a blank canvas and begins with no intentions. Her movements are fluid and free and thoughtless and she falls into a flow state that lasts hours, until she blinks her eyes and awakes to find a portrait before her, a colourless face in full saturation.

The corpse’s visage, so alive she can’t believe it’s not breathing, stares back at her from her easel, and Pearl flinches like she’s been burned.

She hides that painting away, face turned towards the wall, and returns to painting landscapes. They come easier now, and for a time Pearl feels normal, as long as she ignores the canvas in the corner.

It’s Impulse who notices that there’s something wrong first. It’s not surprising that he’d be the first to pick up on it, really. Skizz is his best friend, after all. Of course he’d notice when Skizz stopped laughing, stopped joking, stopped drumming out tunes with his fingers on the side of his boat. And when Pearl sees him, she notices changes too—his skin paler, like he’s spent several weeks locked inside a basement instead of out in the summer sun, his eyes no longer their regular bright blue.

“Hey, Skizzly,” she greets brightly, trying to play at normal, throwing him a bone to grab onto.

Skizz just glances at her before responding with a flat, “Oh, hey Pearl.”

Pearl’s smile falters. “How are you feeling? Impulse told me you’re a little under the weather.”

Skizz shrugs. “Fine, I guess. Did you need something?”

Pearl swallows, something cold sinking in her guts. “No, no, just checking in on you.”

“Gem already checked on me,” Skizz says. “She said I’m not sick.”

“Gem’s not that type of doctor,” Pearl reminds him with a weak smile.

Skizz shrugs again. “She’s the only doctor we’ve got.”

Pearl tries her best not to let that unsettle her.

---

It’s not just Skizz.

It starts with him, but it doesn’t end there. Keralis is next, and then Grian. Mumbo gets sickest the quickest, going from his anxious, affable self to a nearly-unresponsive husk within a week. That scares them all, because even Skizz is still responding when spoken to, still moving when instructed to, even after nearly a month of being infected with… whatever it is that’s going around.

False gets sick without anyone noticing, sequestered away in her lighthouse until she comes into town for groceries looking like a photograph that’s been left in the sun for too long, and that’s when people really start to panic.

And that’s when Gem declares, with all the authority that being a doctor of anthropology afforded her in a tiny town with no real doctor, that she’s putting everyone into quarantine until they can determine the source of the illness. 

“I’m not sick,” Pearl tells Gem when her friend knocks on her door, dressed in full lab gear, her hair out of its usual ponytail and falling forward around her face. She’s pretty sure she isn’t, at least, having hyper-analysed the shade of blue in her eyes in the mirror every morning for the past month. 

“I know,” Gem says. “I want to—I need to—can I come in?”

“Yeah,” Pearl says, stepping aside. “Of course.”

Gem enters, heading down the stairs into Pearl’s living space and staring at the paintings on the wall. Pearl watches her for a moment before stepping closer, resting a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder.

“What’s eating you?” she asks.

Gem snorts out a laugh at that. “I’m not a real doctor, Pearl,” she says.

“I know that.”

“They all need me to be a real doctor for them. I—” She breaks off, runs an anxious hand through her hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I need help.”

Pearl raises her eyebrows. “I don’t know how I can help,” she says. “I’m even less of a doctor than you are.”

“I know,” Gem says. “But you’re my friend, and I trust you, and I need—please?”

She stares at Pearl, bright green eyes magnified through thick glasses lenses. Pearl has never been able to say no to those eyes.

“Okay,” she agrees, letting out an uncertain breath. “Okay. What do you need me to do, Dr. Tay?”

Gem laughs again, high-pitched and anxious, and Pearl feels hot and cold all at once.

---

They do house calls. Once a day, Gem and Pearl, and sometimes Impulse, will make a round of the village, checking in on everyone. Gem brings some of her lab equipment and a notebook, where she scribbles down all the readings she takes from her instruments and any observations she makes. After the first week or so, Pearl also takes to bringing a sketchbook and a small travel painting kit, attempting to record the desaturation rate in her friends’ colours. 

It doesn’t matter which way they look at it—the situation is bad, and rapidly getting worse. Most of the town is infected now, and Skizz is approaching Mumbo’s level of deterioration. Cub fell ill two weeks ago, and Tango—

Well, he’s not quite grey yet, but he looks washed out where he sits at his table, especially next to Gem, all bright copper and ocean blue and forest green. His voice is flat, all of the emotion in it gone, and while he responds in full sentences to Gem’s questions as Pearl attempts to capture the moulded-straw colour of his hair, none of his words sound like him. 

Gem wraps up her check-in, and Pearl follows her out, paints packed away in her bag and sketchbook held carefully so as not to smudge the paint. Impulse is waiting for them outside, staring out into the bay, where a low-lying fog has been hanging for days. 

He glances over at them, voice shaking as he asks, “How is he?”

Gem hesitates. “About the same?” she offers. 

Pearl shakes her head. “Worse,” she says, offering her sketchbook to Impulse, pointing out the differences in values between the colours she’d sampled from Tango two days ago to the ones she’d taken today. 

Impulse’s hands are trembling as he hands the sketchbook back to her. “What do we do?” he asks. “They just keep getting worse—Gem, what do we do?”

Gem’s eyes are fixed somewhere out at sea. Her expression is so scarily blank that Pearl would worry she was infected if not for how bright and vibrant she looks against the backdrop of the village. (Are the houses getting greyer? Surely not—surely it’s just the fog, and the fact that the sky has been overcast for a fortnight now—surely—)

“We look after them best we can,” Gem says. “I’m trying—every night I’m working on a cure.”

“And do you think it’ll work?” Impulse pushes.

“I have to,” Gem replies. “It has to.” 

Pearl swallows, and does not voice what all three of them are thinking: what if it doesn’t?

---

Impulse turns up one morning a shade dimmer than he had been the day before. Pearl notices immediately, her stomach lurching at the sight of him. He offers her a smile that’s smaller than his usual ones, a greeting that’s a little flatter than it would usually be. Pearl’s not sure if Gem even notices.

But Pearl notices, and her eyes sting, and she throws herself at him in a way that catches all three of them off-guard.

“Uh, Pearl?” Impulse says, stiff and uncomfortable beneath her. “You okay?”

“I’m sorry,” Pearl mumbles against his ear.

“Pearl?” There’s a peak of distress in his voice but it’s not enough. Gem hears it, too.

“Oh no,” she breathes.

“Okay, guys, seriously,” Impulse says, pushing Pearl away. “What’s going on?”

They just stare at him.

Realisation dawns across Impulse’s face. “No.” 

“Maybe…” Gem sucks in a breath. She reaches out to take his hand and squeezes it. “Maybe you should go home, Impy. Get some rest.”

“I’m fine,” Impulse protests. “I’m…” His protest crumbles under their gazes. He slumps, and Pearl knows that he would normally never crumble like that. He’d protest and fight back and keep working until he passed out on the docks and had to be carried back to bed.

“C’mon,” she says softly. “I’ll help you home.”

Impulse doesn’t protest that either. He knows, as well as the two of them do, how this ends. He knows that there’s no fighting this.

Pearl, very valiantly, does not cry about it.

---

With everyone except the two of them infected, Pearl manages to convince Gem to split the rounds, with her taking half of the houses, and Gem taking the other half, swapping halves every couple of days. Gem is reluctant, but she has no good argument against Pearl’s that this is more practical, and so she agrees.

And that’s when Pearl notices.

She thinks she’s imagining it at first, but the colour swatches in her sketchbook back up her suspicions, damning evidence she can’t ignore.

When she visits her rounds, she finds that the people she’s visiting appear to have stabilised, at least for a couple days, no greyer today than they were when she saw them the day before. And then she swaps with Gem, and notices that Gem’s half of the rotation are far paler, far less responsive, than they had been the last time Pearl had seen them. They stabilise for a couple days, and then they switch, and Pearl’s original rotation have deteriorated massively in the several days since. 

There’s really only one conclusion she can draw from that, and she doesn’t want to draw it. She doesn’t want to believe that the one responsible for this is—

The fog is a permanent fixture of the village now, blanketing the bay in a thick blanket of quiet. Pearl finds it hard to sleep, even the familiar sound of waves muffled by the mist. Kept awake into the early hours of the morning, she finds herself in the studio, a brush in hand, letting the paint take her where it will.

And where it takes her is familiar: the village, desaturated and coated in fog, dark looming shapes in the mist beyond, rising out of the ocean. And there, in the midst of the painting, a bright spot in all the gloom, is Gem, so vibrant she practically lifts off the page.

Pearl stares at it for a long, long time, and then places it face against the wall and tries her best to forget about it.

---

In all the dread, they’d forgotten something important.

The sea isn’t safe. It never has been. Growing up in the bay you learn how to weather the storms, to predict the tides, to flee from floods. You learn how to build barriers, and you learn how to rebuild once the ocean drags them down. 

Pearl knows that her village can handle the sea: she’s seen them do it time and time again over the years. Together, they move as a well-oiled machine, responding to threats from the depths with weathered ease. That’s why she doesn’t expect it, she thinks. 

There’s never been a monster attack that False didn’t warn them about.

But False isn’t capable of doing much of anything at the moment.

And so when the tentacles rise from the waves, there isn’t a warning.

Just a deafening krk-crash that wakes Pearl from a dead sleep with a bolt of adrenaline that’s nearly nauseating. She scrambles from her blankets, still in her pajamas, and rushes up the stairs to throw on her boots. It’s edging towards winter now, the weather much milder than the summer months, and though it’s not cold by any stretch of the imagination the chill of the air still makes her shiver. She grits her teeth, racing from her front door to the village proper, and there—

There’s a sea monster, dark purple tentacles reaching out to the shore, destroying everything in its wake. The fish market is half gone, and it’s awful, but it’s a relief, in a way, because nobody lives there.

“Gem!” Pearl screams into the night.

“Pearl!” she hears echo back, followed by distant footsteps, growing ever-closer. 

Gem’s face is flushed, her hair wild, her eyes wide. She’s also in her pyjamas, her lab coat that’s been ever-present for months now gone, and Pearl finds her eyes drawn to dark striations in her skin. They look like—

“Pearl,” Gem says again. “We need to get everyone out, away from the shore, up to the research centre—”

Pearl nods. “Got it,” she says. She points towards the docks and says, “I’ll head over there.”

Gem nods. “Be safe,” she says, and then she’s off again, pelting in the direction of the lighthouse.

Pearl doesn’t bother knocking as she throws Impulse’s door open. He’s still lucid enough that he’s been startled awake by the noise, though it hasn’t driven him to do much more than put his shoes on and stare out of the window at the dark shapes rearing up out of the fog.

“Impulse!” Pearl cries.

“Pearl?” Impulse says, glancing at her with dull eyes.

“We need to get people out,” she says.

There’s an extended pause, then, “Okay.”

“Can you get Skizz?” she asks. “Tango, too, maybe? I need to go to the beach, help everyone down there.”

Another extended pause, then a nod. “I can do that,” Impulse says. He moves too slowly, not driven by the same panic flooding Pearl’s veins, but it’s good enough. It has to be. Pearl doesn’t have time to consider the alternative.

She goes racing off for the beach. She throws open Keralis’ door first, relieved that he is, at least, wearing underwear when she drags him from his bed and into the night. She leaves him there while she grabs Grian from his hut, and then takes them both by the wrists, pulling them along behind her while she races for the cliffside.

It feels like hours that she races back and forth, grabbing her friends from their homes and dragging them in various states of comprehension to the safety of the cliff before running back into the danger zone. Grian’s hut is gone, and so is a large portion of the road. The tentacles have taken a chunk out of the farms further up the coast. Gem’s been taking the people she rescues a different route up to the research facility, the path that Pearl’s taking cut off to her by debris.

Once she’s got everyone on her side of town, she collapses panting on the grass, her lungs aching with the strain. There’s a fire somewhere down on the shore, someone’s lantern knocked astray by swinging tentacles. Her eyes burn just from looking at it.

A voice says, “I got him.”

Pearl looks up.

It’s Impulse, manhandling a colourless, greyscale Skizz.

Pearl goes cold.

“Where’s Tango?” she asks.

Impulse blinks. Slowly. Too slowly.

“Oh,” he says. “I’ll go get him.”

Pearl shakes her head, rocketed up to her feet by panic once again. “No, I’ll go,” she gasps. “You stay here.”

And then she’s off running again, beelining for Tango’s house, praying to any higher power that will listen that she’s not too late. Her lungs ache. Her legs burn. She can’t quite catch her breath. She’s shaking.

And then she’s knocking down Tango’s door, grabbing him from his bed against the far wall, dragging him away—

The roof coming down sounds like thunder, like the sky split open and gutted for parts. Pearl goes down hard, stars bursting behind her eyes, her breath coming out empty and then as a whine. She blinks, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dark, for her ears to stop ringing, and that’s when she hears it.

It’s—not a scream. More of a whimper, or a wail, stretched out and awful and pained and punctuated by short, desperate gasps. It goes straight to her stomach, straight to making her sick, and she doesn’t want to look. Doesn’t want to move.

But, god, she has to, doesn’t she?

She wiggles her fingers, her toes, and lets out a deep groan as she pushes herself up onto her hands and knees. The world has narrowed in on itself, the open air of Tango’s house reduced to a crawlspace, and she shuffles down it, rubble and debris tearing her skin open and leaving bloody red marks on desaturated wood. It is a far cry from the blood she finds, practically brown with how much colour has been leeched from it. 

“Oh, my god,” she chokes. “Tango…”

Tango just moans in response. She can’t tell if he’s pale from blood loss or pale from the infection, but either way it has the effect of making him look half dead. He’s half buried beneath the rubble, body jerking with what she can only assume is pain, barely felt beneath the weight of numb apathy.

“I gotta get you out of here.” The words taste acrid against her tongue. Or maybe that’s the smoke. She can’t tell. “I’ve got you.” She grabs Tango by his good arm and grimaces. “It’s gonna be okay.”

It’s not a reassurance for him. Not really. Pearl’s familiar enough with his condition by now to know that he can’t really care about being okay at this point.

It’s more for her as she does her best to get leverage in the small space and pulls. 

When Tango screams, she knows it’s completely involuntary, an animal howl of agony that stops her short. Pearl gasps, tears on her cheeks, head spinning. “Please, no,” she begs, and she doesn’t know if she’s talking to him or the higher power that’s been ignoring her for weeks. “No, no, I gotta—I—”

“Pearl?”

“Gem!” Pearl cries. “Gem, please, I need—it’s Tango—he’s—”

“I’ve got you,” says Gem’s voice, familiar and close as footsteps pound across rubble. There’s a series of grunts and clunks as rubble shifts, and then there’s light pouring into the crawlspace, which is no longer so much of a crawlspace. Gem stares at the two of them, Pearl in tears on her knees and Tango half buried and lying in his own dull blood. 

“Okay,” she gasps out, and she sounds terrified. “Okay,” she repeats, steadier this time. 

Pearl wants to be relieved, but she’s just on the other side of hysterical. Gem’s holding an axe, which she must have used to clear the rubble, and she steps forward with it held between white knuckles.

“Hold him still,” she tells Pearl.

Pearl swallows. “Gem?” she whispers.

“Please.”

Gem glances down at Pearl, and god, she never has been able to say no to that, has she?

She shuffles forward, puts her weight against Tango, holds him still. Squeezes her eyes shut.

It doesn’t make it any better.

It doesn’t stop her from hearing the sick crunch of the axe cutting through bone or the blood-curdling scream Tango lets out.

It doesn’t stop her from feeling the sudden lack of resistance as she pulls Tango’s bleeding body away from the rubble, leaving his arm behind.

---

Pearl manages to hold it together until they’re able to get Tango safe and stable. Once the wound has been cauterised and disinfected and bandaged, and he’s left sitting with a mostly-unresponsive Skizz and an Impulse who’s just aware enough to be awkward about how little he feels for his friend, she walks away from the town’s refugees on the hillside until she can no longer hear them, and they can no longer hear her. She stands for a moment, surveying the damage below, the sun rising over the sea and the flooded streets and destroyed buildings, and she sucks in a breath that knocks her to her knees.

The panic attack comes in quick half-breaths and waterlogged wails, her hands gripping at her hair and pulling it hard enough to hurt. The world blurs around her as she chokes on saltwater and bile, her ears ringing with screams and funeral bells. When the hands settle on her shoulders she barely feels them—only feels them when they rise to her wrists and untangle her fingers from her hair.

“—earl? Pearl. Look at me. Come on, I know you can do it.”

“Ge-em,” Pearl chokes out. “I can’t—I—”

“I’ve got you,” Gem soothes. She takes Pearl’s hands in hers, squeezes them tight, real and grounding. “See, come on, that’s it. Breathe with me.”

Pearl blinks tears from her eyes as she tries to time her breathing to Gem’s. She’s not very good at it, her heart too quick and Gem’s too slow, but it helps, dragging her down from the high of panic. 

“That’s it,” Gem breathes. She lets go of Pearl’s hand, reaching up to push the hair out of Pearl’s face, cupping her cheeks in her palms. “See? Nice and calm. Everything’s fine, see?”

“Yeah,” Pearl agrees, and the words feel hollow. Her panic feels hollow, somewhere above her body, her soul sunken to somewhere below her knees. She sucks in a breath, lets Gem wipe tears from her eyes with her thumbs.

Gem is so bright. A searchlight in a storm, a ray of rising sun through the dark. The world seems to grey around her. 

Pearl reaches out, splaying her hand against Gem’s cheek, a clumsy echo of Gem’s own reassuring, grounding touch. Gem is still so bright, vivid enough that Pearl doesn’t think any paint could capture it. 

And Pearl, held in comparison, is grey and dull. A shade, drained of life.

She swallows. Lets out a shaking breath. Looks up into Gem’s green eyes, sees the fear and regret in them, and can barely summon her own panic or hurt in return.

“Oh,” she says, and the word falls like a stone, plunging into the depths.

---

Pearl lets out a breath. “It was the body, wasn’t it?” she asks, loosening her grip. “The one that washed up. It did something to you.”

Gem swallows. She pulls away, holding onto her own wrist where Pearl had dropped it, clutching it to her chest. “I’m so hungry, Pearl,” she whispers. “I fade so fast now. I need… I need…”

“You’re going to kill us.” Gem flinches at the words. “You know that, don’t you, Gem? You’re going to kill us. You are killing us.”

“I just need your colours,” Gem replies, a whine in her voice. “I just…”

“What happens when we’re gone, Gem? What happens when you’ve taken all the colours? What happens then?”

Gem stares at her. There are tears in her eyes. They don’t quite fall, but Pearl can feel them drip into her hollow heart. There’s an ocean between them now and Pearl doesn’t have the wits to cross it. She doesn’t care enough to cross it, and she doesn’t feel enough to care about that. 

“I have to go and check on Impy,” Gem repeats, her voice thick. “I’ll see you later, Pearl.”

“You won’t,” Pearl calls after her as Gem hurries for the door.

Gem doesn’t reply, just slamming the door shut in response.

Pearl sits in bed for a long time, staring at the wall with hazy vision. Her thoughts are muffled under the thick fog that chokes the village, and so when she finally stands, she’s not entirely sure why. She lets her body carry her back to her studio, picks up a canvas from against the wall, and places it on her easel. She sits down in front of it and stares.

Gem’s face stares back at her, the only alive thing in a dead and colourless world.

[randomgathering]

kinda want a deck that does nothing but activate this over and over until I win

Door to Nothingness

Only a madman could create such a door. Only an imbecile would open it.

Artist: Svetlin Velinov TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link

[heliosunny]

GRAVITY IN CHAINS

YANDERE!CALEB X READER

In the endless void of space, there was no one to hear you scream.

The ship was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made your ears ring, amplifying the soft hum of the engines and the uneven rhythm of your breathing. Caleb was in the cockpit, as always, quietly steering the ship through the vast nothingness. You’d spent the last hour pacing the narrow corridors, your heart pounding with an idea so desperate it almost felt reckless. You had to run. You didn’t know how yet, but the thought consumed you, a glimmer of hope in an otherwise hopeless existence.

But as you paced, fragments of Caleb’s voice replayed in your head—his confessions, his fears, and the memories he used to justify his obsession.

-Years Ago-

Caleb wasn’t always this man. He had been soft, fragile in ways he hid from everyone but you. He was the boy who held your hand too tightly when the storms rolled in, the one who always made sure you were walking on the safer side of the road. His protectiveness had always been there, but it was sweet and tender, not the overwhelming force it had become.

You remembered the day his world shifted.

You were barely teenagers, sitting in the small library of your hometown. Caleb was absorbed in a book about the stars, his eyes alight with curiosity. “One day, I’ll take you there.” he’d said, tracing the image of a nebula with his finger.

You’d laughed, teasing him about his wild dreams. “And what would we do in space, Caleb? Float around and count stars?”

He grinned, so carefree it almost hurt to remember. “No, I’ll keep you safe. Out there, no one can touch us. We’d have everything we need.”

But that dream was born from something deeper, darker. Caleb had lost his family young. His parents were killed in an accident that left him orphaned and alone. You were the only constant in his life, the one person he clung to when the world felt too cruel.

“Everyone leaves,” he’d whispered to you once, years later. You’d been sitting under the oak tree after a particularly bad fight he’d had with one of his guardians “but not you. You’d never leave me, right?”

You had promised, naive and sincere. You’d held his hand and swore you’d always be by his side. You didn’t know then what that promise would mean, how tightly he’d cling to it when the two of you finally left that little town behind.

-Now-

You stopped pacing and leaned against the wall, the weight of those memories pressing down on you. Caleb hadn’t changed overnight. It had been a slow unraveling, his love for you twisting into something suffocating. You thought back to the first time you’d realized how far he’d fallen.

It was months ago, on a crowded space station. You’d been talking to a merchant about supplies when Caleb appeared behind you, his presence almost tangible. He’d glared at the merchant with such intensity that the man had stammered out an apology for no reason at all.

Later, when you’d confronted Caleb about it, he’d brushed it off. “He was looking at you like he thought he had a chance” he’d said, his tone calm but his eyes cold.

It was then you realized how deep his obsession ran. He wasn’t protecting you anymore—he was controlling you.

And now, as you stood in the corridor of his ship, you knew you had to escape.

Your plan was simple, born from desperation. The ship had a small emergency shuttle, meant for short-range travel. It wasn’t much, but it was your only chance. You waited until Caleb disappeared into the maintenance bay, then quietly made your way to the shuttle.

Your hands trembled as you powered it on, the soft hum of the engine filling the small space. You were almost there, almost free—

The door hissed open behind you.

“Going somewhere?” Caleb’s voice was calm, but you could hear the crack in it, the pain he was barely suppressing.

You turned to face him, your heart hammering in your chest. He stood in the doorway, his face pale and drawn. And then you saw it—the blood staining his side, seeping through his shirt.

Your breath caught. “Caleb, what—what did you do?”

He swayed slightly, one hand clutching his side. “I had to stop you,” he said softly. “I couldn’t let you leave me. I’d rather…” He trailed off, his knees buckling as he collapsed to the floor.

You froze, torn between your instinct to run and the overwhelming guilt clawing at your chest. You hated him for what he’d become, but seeing him like this—broken, bleeding—it was too much.

“Dammit, Caleb,” you muttered, rushing to his side. You knelt beside him, pressing your hands against the wound to stop the bleeding. “Why would you do this? Why would you hurt yourself like this?”

His eyes fluttered open, and he looked at you with a faint smile. “Because I knew… you’d come back. You always do.”

Your throat tightened, tears blurring your vision. “You’re insane...” you whispered.

“Maybe,” he murmured, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “But I’d do it again if it meant keeping you with me.”

You stayed. You had no choice.

As you worked to bandage his wound, Caleb watched you with a quiet satisfaction, knowing he’d won. The escape shuttle sat unused, its engines silent, as you remained by his side—trapped by love, by guilt, by the weight of your shared past.

------

Caleb recovered faster than you thought he would. His determination to keep you close seemed to outweigh the severity of the wound, but it bought you time. While he rested and healed, you plotted your next escape.

This time, you wouldn’t make the same mistake. You wouldn’t let him catch you mid-flight, wouldn’t hesitate when the moment came. Caleb’s possessiveness had reached a level that terrified you, but you still believed deep down that some part of him could be saved.

But you couldn’t save him from here. You couldn’t save yourself, either, not while trapped under his watchful eye.

You waited until the ship entered hyperspace, the stars outside the viewport stretching into brilliant streaks of light. Caleb had left the cockpit, likely to rest in his quarters, trusting that you wouldn’t try to run again.

But you would.

The escape pod was your only hope. It wasn’t equipped for long distances, but there were relay beacons in hyperspace that could pick up distress signals. If you could launch and activate the beacon before Caleb noticed, someone might find you.

Your heart raced as you crept through the corridors, the sound of your own breathing deafening in the otherwise silent ship. Reaching the pod, you activated the pre-launch sequence as quietly as you could. The soft hum of the systems coming online sent a rush of hope through you.

This time, you wouldn’t fail.

The pod door hissed open, and you stepped inside, your fingers hovering over the control panel to seal it. Just as you were about to press the button, the air behind you seemed to shift, a faint ripple you couldn’t quite explain.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?”

You spun around, your stomach plummeting as you saw Caleb standing in the corridor, his face a mask of quiet fury and something else—disappointment.

“I told you,” he continued, stepping closer, his tone steady but cold, “I can’t let you leave.”

Your breath hitched as you backed into the pod, your hand hovering over the emergency launch switch. “Stay back, Caleb!” you warned, though your voice wavered.

He didn’t stop. “You think I’m doing this to hurt you?” His voice cracked slightly, betraying the raw emotion beneath. “Everything I’ve done...it’s to keep you safe. Out there, you’d be lost. Alone. Do you really think anyone else cares about you like I do?”

“I don’t care!” you snapped, tears streaming down your face. “I’d rather take my chances out there than spend another second as your prisoner!”

His eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. “Prisoner? Is that what you think you are?” He took another step forward, and suddenly the air around him seemed to thrum with energy, an invisible force pressing against your chest.

“No,” you whispered, realization dawning. “Caleb, don’t-”

But it was too late.

He’d never used his evol on you before, always insisting that he didn’t need to. But now, the invisible pressure around you grew stronger, pinning you against the wall of the escape pod.

“I didn’t want to do this...” he said, his voice trembling. “I wanted you to stay because you wanted to. But you’re not giving me a choice.”

The pressure intensified, your limbs frozen as though gravity itself had turned against you. Your breath came in shallow gasps as Caleb stepped into the pod, his hand reaching out to gently touch your face.

“I told myself I’d never use this on you,” he said softly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “But I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

“Caleb...” you choked out, your voice barely audible. “Please… don’t do this.”

He ignored your plea, his thumb brushing away the tears on your cheek. “I’ll make you understand” he whispered. “I’ll show you that everything I’ve done has been for you.”

You felt the energy shift again, a wave of warmth washing over you. It wasn’t painful, but it was invasive, creeping into your mind like tendrils of smoke. Images flooded your thoughts, memories of the two of you together, moments of happiness twisted and magnified until they felt overwhelming.

It was him. He was pushing these feelings into you, amplifying your love for him, drowning out your fear and anger.

“No” you gasped, struggling against the invisible force holding you. “Stop it, Caleb. This isn’t real!”

“But it is,” he said, his voice breaking. “This is how it’s supposed to be. Just you and me. No fear, no doubt. Only love.”

When the pressure finally eased, you collapsed to the floor of the pod, trembling and weak. Caleb knelt beside you, his arms wrapping around you as though to shield you from the universe itself.

“It’s okay” he murmured, rocking you gently. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

You didn’t fight him. You couldn’t. The memories and emotions he’d forced into your mind left you too disoriented to resist. Somewhere deep inside, the part of you that still wanted freedom screamed in defiance, but it was a distant echo, drowned out by the overwhelming sense of surrender.

As Caleb carried you back to the main cabin, you realized with a hollow ache that you’d lost. He wouldn’t let you go, and now, you weren’t sure if you even had the strength to try again.

Caleb pressed a kiss to your forehead as he laid you down on the bed, his voice soft and full of devotion. “Rest now, my love. I’ll take care of everything.”

And as the ship continued its journey through the endless void, you closed your eyes, the weight of his love binding you tighter than any chain ever could.

-----

Caleb is backkkk

And Jan 23rd is my birthday so..✨ have fun reading❤️

[hanahaki270]

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ “You Belong to Me” ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

・❥・ Synopsis ・❥・ Having an Uchiha as an ex doesn’t mean anything. Once you’ve managed to make them fall for you, you’re basically stuck with them for eternity.

・❥・ Pairing ・❥・ Sasuke x Fem!reader

・❥・ A/N ・❥・ I finally decided to continue watching shippuden after having it on pause for 5 years.. yeahhh so I’m having a huge obsession with it rn. Also please feel free to send prompt requests for me to write! And I feel like I definitely could have written this out better but I was in a rush and stressed out about Job interviews so mb

♥︎

You finally gathered the courage within you to end your relationship with Sasuke. This wasn’t an easy decision. In fact it was tearing you apart. You still loved him. But the differences between your priorities and his were far too different to the point where they were conflicting with each other.

You might as well have been talking to a wall that day with how blank his expression was after you just announced how you were breaking up with him. The loud silence was killing you inside, does he not care at all?

♥︎

-You wanting to break up with him was like a jab at his ego. The Sasuke Uchiha. The last prodigy of his clan and you wanted to leave him? Though this enraged him, he refused to let you know it. He couldn’t let you have the satisfaction of knowing that this actually affected him.

-After you left the apartment he started to completely trash the place. Everything in it was obliterated into nothingness. But as soon as he went out in public he acted completely fine as if nothing happened.

-Anytime you were around he would make sure you saw him with other girls. He wanted to show you that he could be with anybody he desired without a problem, at any given second. Show you that you weren’t nothing special to him.

-He was lying. Because as soon as you left his vision he treated the girls like shit and pushed them aside after they served their purpose in making you jealous.

-He tried to sleep with random women in the village to further prove that he didn’t need you. (He was really just trying to convince himself) but he couldn’t bring himself to do so. None of them even compared to your beauty. Even the thought of another person lying on the bed you two once shared disgusted him.

-After weeks of this even Sasuke couldn’t believe his own facade. He craved you. He craved your smile, your laughter, Your touch. And is willing to do whatever it takes to remind you that you belong with him.

-He sucked up his pride and begged Naruto to send you two on missions together. So you’d be basically forced to talk to each other . (Naruto uses this against him every now and then)

-During one of the missions, one of your comrades decide to get a little touchy with you. You pay this no mind since you have no interest in the guy, but Sasuke definitely notices it. What’s a worthless ninja doing talking to what’s his?

-A couple of days after that mission, the scenario of another man getting that close to you haunted Sasuke day and night. There’s no way in hell you’d ever willingly decide to be with any other man but him. Right? He needed the reassurance and he needed it now.

-It was 4 am when you opened the door to your apartment after you were awoken by loud desperate banging on the door just to be faced with your ex. He invited himself in, closing the door behind him as he slowly crept towards you.

“Sasuke?”

-He reached for your hand and held it in his, as he focused on you as if there was nothing else in this world. You could tell he developed dark circles since the last time you saw him.

“The day we got together was the day I chose you to be the one I repopulate my clan with. The only one worthy of the surname Uchiha. You’re mine and I’m yours.”

-He noticed how you were at a loss of words so he took this moment to do what he’s been yearning to. He grabbed the back of your head pulling you into a kiss. The kiss was messy and desperate. He kissed you as if you were the oxygen he needed to breathe. And to him, you were.

-Needless to say you were vulnerable to his request and took him back. How could you not?

♥︎

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎshower with clark౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x clark kent

The hiss of the spray raining from the shower head loosened your taut muscles, and you released a sigh. Tilting your head back, you hummed softly, lifting your hands to smooth hair back from your face. You'd run a brush through before you stepped in, conscious of the tangles that would appear once you were done washing.

This was your safe place, where all the stress of the day melted into nothingness, swirling down the drain with anything else you'd collected during the day. You were long overdue for an everything shower, having skipped it for the past few days. There was nothing worse than a rushed shower. You wanted to take your time, to really relax. After the week you'd had, you felt you deserved it.

When the door clicked open, you perked up, pulling back the curtain and poking your head out. Water dripped from your hair onto the tile, but you hardly cared, a tired smile drawing your lips up.

Clark was rubbing his eye with one hand, stepping forward to cup your damp cheek with the other. "Baby." His voice was no more than a mumble, and your eyes wandered over him. Curls stuck to his forehead, wearing nothing except a pair of boxers.

Your shoulders relaxed, and you leaned against the side of the shower, tilting your head into his touch. "Wanna come in?"

His eyes lit up. "Yeah." You slid the shower curtain aside, watching him kick off his boxers before he got in. The water flattened his hair, and you reached up to push it out of his eyes.

Clark opened his arms, and you fell into them, pressing your cheek to his warm chest. One big hand smoothed over your hair, and he kissed the top of your head. "You left."

"I'm sorry, baby," you said softly, burrowing into him. "I didn't think you'd wake up."

His chin settled atop your head. "You can wake me up for showers. I like this. I love this," he corrected himself after a moment.

You tilted your head up, his arms around your back holding you upright. "I love it too."

He leaned down to kiss your forehead, eyes on the wall behind you. "You have a lot of pink soap."

"Mhm," you hummed, resting your cheek on his chest again. He'd never commented on it before, but it made you smile.

Clark's thumb rubbed up and down your lower back. "Is that why you always smell like a donut?"

A happy giggle bubbled up from your chest. "Donut?"

There was a pause, and he adjusted his arms comfortably around you. "You know...sweet."

"Yeah," you responded lazily, looking up at him. His eyes were sleepy, and you lifted your hands to cup his face. "Wanna try some?" The black and grey bottles of his own soap were lined up neatly next to yours, but you offered anyways. "Just one?"

Pausing for a moment, Clark used his fingers to scratch your back, and you nearly melted. "Which one?"

Reaching out from the confines of his arms, you plucked one up. "This one. Bodywash."

He leaned his cheek against your head, inhaling softly. "Okay." You squealed, causing him to jolt just slightly, but he shook it off and took the bottle from you. When you looked back up at him, he was smiling.

Showering with Clark wasn't an uncommon occurrence. You easily maneuvered around each other, swapping places on the shower bench and under the head. You borrowed the body wash back to shave, and he scrubbed at his curls, closing his eyes to rinse out his soap. It was hard to tear your eyes away from him, from the firm contours of his body, and how it looked when water was dribbling down his chest.

You knew him in every form- as the invincible hero and the quiet writer. Underneath it all was something soft, a man who melted under your touch and held you like a teddy bear at the end of every day. And here he was, rubbing your sugar cookie body wash all over him and grinning at you when he saw you watching. Clark's skin was thick, untouchable, but in times like these you could see his heart. It was bigger and brighter than anything you'd ever come across before.

You stood up for one more rinse, feeling clean and fluffy like you always did after a good wash. Clark capped the bottle he was holding, taking the razor from you and setting it on the pale pink shower caddy. He reached for you. "C'mere, honey."

Gladly, you settled back into him, feeling almost cocooned. He pressed a few kisses to your head, swaying back and forth so subtly it almost felt like a dream. Images of clouds and pastel rainbows and white fur blankets filled your mind like fog. This was always how it felt around him. Safe. Anywhere else you'd be on high alert, but when you were tucked away into him, your mind lapsed. It was like your body knew you were protected.

Getting out, Clark wrapped one of your fluffy towels around you before drying himself off. You covered your torso, reaching for your vanilla lotion, but he got to it first. "Let me?" When you nodded, he lifted you onto the counter, big hands on your waist, and knelt before you. While he worked on the first leg, you made quick work of brushing your hair, setting it to the side so you could look at him again. Leaning back on your hands, you watched him with sleepy eyes. The feeling of his hands on your smooth legs was a bonus to the calm you already felt.

He had you in his arms once he was done, and the trip to your room was a blur until he set you down into your bed, gentle and loving as always. The towel was removed, and he worked a shirt over your head, panties up your legs. With his hand under your head, Clark guided you to lay down, only leaving you for a second and reappearing on your other side to gather you into his arms. He smelled like your body wash.

The moon was glowing through the slit in the curtains, and you turned in his arms to push your head into his chest, hiding from the light. The overwhelming feeling of being taken care of flooded you, and you felt more relaxed than in months.

An 'I love you' was whispered into your hair before you drifted off. You squeezed his hand over your tummy. When you weren't half asleep in the morning, you'd make sure to say it back.

[helioooss]

pulling your face close, wanting the inmost

synopsis: its been three years since minjeong left y/n waiting at the altar. throughout it all, jimin comes along.

w/c: 4.5k+

warnings: angst, blood (you’re a doctor), fluff. winter x you x karina

a/n: do you think my sleepless nights will make me insane? be honest. also meant to be really short but got carried away

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the train rattled as it sped through the early seoul morning, its harsh fluorescent lights bouncing off the windows and flickering faintly above you; hunched in the corner, staring blankly at the window; your scrubs noticeably wrinkled from the rushed way you’d thrown them on.

the person in the reflection was unrecognisable: hollow cheeks and dark circles etched like shadows beneath tired eyes — you were gaunt, tired; a reminder that the polished version of yourself, the one that used to smile, laugh and plan for a future, was long gone.

it screeched to a halt, jerking you out of whatever trance you were just in. as everyone else stood from their seats, you grabbed your bag and sighed; the weight of the day ahead pressing down on your shoulders.

your fingers tapped absently on your thigh as it slowed down, the doors automatically sliding open and you filed out with the rest of the crowd while keeping your head low.

the walk to the hospital from here wasn’t far, but you stopped at the station exit, digging a cigarette from your pocket. just one. it wasn’t a habit you were proud of, but it helped, even if only for a moment.

your hands trembled as you lit it and the first drag stung your lungs in a way that briefly drowned out everything else.

the memories clawed their way in anyway.

three years. it had been three years since minjeong walked out of your life without a word. she didn’t show up on the day that was supposed to mark your forever. no note. no call.

nothing but an empty altar and the stares of everyone you’d gathered to celebrate a love that, you’d come to realise, wasn’t as mutual as you believed.

it wasn’t hard to figure out what had happened.

mingyu came back into the picture. you had seen the rumours floating around online weeks before the wedding, fans gushing over how they spotted him and minjeong leaving the same restaurant; smiling like they used to in the good old days.

you asked her about it once, casually, your voice steady even though your heart raced. “did you see mingyu recently?”

she’d looked at you then, her expression unreadable, and shrugged. “it was just a friendly dinner. nothing to worry about.”

and like the fool you were, you believed her.

you exhaled sharply, watching the smoke curl into the crisp morning air. the morning rush of people already blurring into nothingness.

another day. another shift. another chance to bury yourself in the monotony of work. shaking your head, you snuffed the cigarette under your heel and started walking.

asan medical center loomed ahead, its sterile walls a familiar cage. work was your only escape now. it was ironic, really — the same place where you met her, where your love story began, was now the place you buried yourself to forget her.

by the time you arrived, you instantly slipped into your usual routine: quiet, focused and distant. the staff knew you as a good doctor — reliable, efficient and calm under pressure, but they also knew you as someone impossible to get close to.

“morning y/n,” jiwoo greeted as she walked into the staff room, her tone overly chipper. she was one of the few residents who still tried to engage with you, even though your responses were always curt.

“morning,” you mumbled, not bothering to look up as you stirred a spoonful of sugar into your coffee.

“how was your day off?”

“fine,” you said shortly. “just stayed home.”

she frowned. “you should go out sometime. have fun. meet people.”

“i’m fine,” you shook your head, taking a sip of the still bitter liquid. “i love my dog’s company.”

she hesitated, clearly wanting to say more, but eventually gave up as her shoulders slouched. “let me know if you ever want to hang out sometime, yeah? perhaps, you can even bring rome around.”

you nodded, not really hearing her. the truth was, you didn’t want to talk. not to her, not to anyone. talking meant opening up, and opening up meant risking another heartbreak. you couldn’t do it again.

three years ago, you would’ve been a different person — someone who laughed easily, loved deeply and believed in forever.

today, you were someone who stood in front of a room full of people, trying to find an explanation through tears because the woman you loved had run away. the embarrassment of that day still clung to you, a weight you couldn’t shake. there was nothing you could do except apologise to everyone — your parents, her parents, the guests.

but mostly, you apologised to yourself, for believing that you were enough for her.

it hit you the hardest that night, when you were alone in your flat, still dressed in your wedding suit that had taken you weeks to pick out.

the silence was deafening then, and for the first time, you realised she never loved you the way you loved her.

you didn’t hate her. you wanted to — god, you wanted to hate her. but you couldn’t. she was still the same woman who once made you laugh until your stomach hurt, who would drag you out of the rain just to kiss; the person who knew you the most.

she was still the love of your life.

and that was the cruelest part of it all.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the day was dragging in the way only hospital shifts could. fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead and the faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, clinging to your scrubs. your shoulders were tight, weighed down by exhaustion and the kind of hollow loneliness you’ve since stopped trying to fight.

you were scanning through patient charts at the nurses’ station when you heard her voice — bright and teasing, cutting like sunlight through thick curtains.

“there she is,” she called out as she strode towards you, a paper bag in one hand and a bottle of iced coffee in the other.

you groaned inwardly; not another one.

jimin was the last person you wanted to see. her presence was like a splash of colour in a grey world, drawing the attention of everyone around her.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your tone more clipped than you intended.

she ignored the edge in your voice, plopping the bag onto the desk in front of you. “bringing you lunch, obviously. you’ve been skipping meals, haven’t you?”

“i’m fine,” you replied, already turning back to the chart in your hands.

“you’re always ‘fine,’” she said, rolling her eyes. “and yet you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“what do you want from me?” you groaned, exhaling heavily as you closed the charts and began your stride towards the staff room.

it was easier to deal with her alone than be surrounded by people gossiping: what is minjeong’s best friend doing with her ex-fiancée?

“checking on you, obviously,” she said as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “also, you skipped lunch again. so…” she quickened her pace behind you. “rina brought reinforcements.”

you sighed, glancing at her briefly. her dark hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and she was dressed casually in a hoodie and jeans.

for someone constantly in the public eye, she had a way of blending in when she wanted to.

“i didn’t ask for reinforcements,” you muttered, opening the door for her. “and i don’t need checking on daily.”

“clearly,” she replied, sarcasm lacing her tone as she looked up at you. “because you’re the picture of health and happiness.”

you shook your head. “you’re so…ugh, just something else.”

she opened the bag on the table, the smell immediately greeting your starved senses. “that’s why i brought food because if i left it up to you, you’d just keep surviving on coffee and whatever snacks you find lying around.”

you didn’t answer. you knew she meant well. jimin was one of the few people who hadn’t given up on you, even after you’d pushed her away countless times.

she started visiting you a year after the wedding-that-wasn’t, showing up with coffee, proper meals or just her company. you didn’t know why she bothered and you weren’t sure you wanted to.

“it’s your favourite,” she added, sliding the box towards you. “spicy pork and rice. come on, don’t make me waste a good meal.”

the smell of the food wafted up to you as you hesitated. it had been hours since you’d eaten and your stomach growled in betrayal. reluctantly, you grabbed the chopsticks and opened the container.

“there we go,” she said with a grin, settling into the chair across from you as she opened her own container; tonkatsu.

“you’re persistent,” you told her, taking a bite.

“someone has to be,” she replied, her voice softer now.

for a while, the only sound between you was the quiet clink of chopsticks against the container as you both ate in solitude. but jimin wasn’t the kind of person to let silence linger for long.

“how long are you planning to keep this up?” she asked suddenly as she threw her container into the bag, breaking the silence.

“keep what up?” you replied without looking at her, focusing instead on stabbing at a piece of pork with your chopsticks.

“this,” she said, gesturing vaguely at you. “the whole ‘lone wolf who doesn’t need anyone’ thing. it’s getting old.”

you sighed, not bothering to look up. “why do you care?”

“because i do,” she said simply, her tone infuriatingly casual.

you rolled your eyes, setting your chopsticks down with a little more force than necessary. “rina, we barely know each other these days. why do you bother to check in on me almost everyday?”

“i don’t know,” her grin faded, replaced by something more serious. “you were minjeong’s everything. and, for what it’s worth, she was my best friend. so maybe i care because i know what it’s like to be left behind by her too. or maybe, i simply just care about you.”

the words hit you harder than you expected. you looked up at her for the first time, caught off guard by the raw honesty in her voice.

“she left you too,” you said quietly, more a statement than a question.

she nodded, leaning back in her chair. “she was my anchor, you know? and then, one day, she was just…gone. no explanation, no goodbye. sound familiar?”

you swallowed hard, the ache in your chest growing sharper. “yeah, it does.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you heavy with unspoken grief and the strange sense of kinship that came with it.

after awhile, jimin cleared her throat, the light teasing tone slipping back into her voice as she watched you clean up. “so,” she began, “how’s rome? still the world’s most dramatic sausage dog?”

your chopsticks paused mid-air. rome. yours and minjeong’s dachshund. or just your sausage dog now, since she’d left. he’d been one of the few things that kept you going after she disappeared, a small source of comfort in a world that felt unbearably empty.

you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. “he’s fine,” you said cautiously, not quite ready to let your guard down.

she raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “just ‘fine’? come on, y/n. give me something.”

you sighed, leaning back in your chair. “he’s good. healthy. still hates the postman.”

“classic rome,” she said, laughing softly. “does he still steal your socks?”

“every chance he gets,” you admitted, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “he buried one of my favourite pairs in the garden last week. i didn’t even know he could dig that deep.”

“a true criminal mastermind,” she laughed. “i miss him.”

you tilted your head, studying her for a moment. “i don’t think he hasn’t forgotten you.”

her smile faltered slightly, her gaze dropping to the table. “good, i’d like to bother him sometime.”

you nodded, not pushing further. the silence that followed wasn’t as heavy as before, but it still carried the weight of everything unsaid.

“i have to go back to work soon,” you muttered slowly. “thanks for bringing me lunch, again.”

she leaned forward once more, resting her elbows on the table. “you know, you’re a lot nicer when you talk about rome.”

“am i?” you said dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah,” she chuckled, grinning. “maybe you should bring him to work. he could be a therapy dog or something.”

“not sure the hospital would appreciate that,” you replied, shaking your head.

“probably not,” she agreed. “you talk about him more than you talk about yourself.”

“what’s there to talk about?” you asked, avoiding her gaze.

“a lot,” she said simply. “but you won’t let anyone in long enough to find out.”

“maybe because there’s nothing worth finding out,” you shot back, your tone sharper than you intended.

she didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. “i don’t really believe that. i know you.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the words caught in your throat because a small part of you, buried beneath the layers of grief and anger and self-imposed isolation, wanted to believe she was right.

“you don’t have to do this, you know,” you said finally, your voice quieter now. “come here. check on me. it’s…unnecessary.”

“it’s not about necessity — it’s about wanting to. and i want to, y/n. because whether you believe it or not, you matter to me,” then, as if the idea had just occurred to her, she added, “you know what you should do? come to dinner with us tonight. aeri is hosting dinner at her place. yizhuo will be there too and they’d love to see you.”

“i don’t know…i’m not really built for —“

“they miss you,” she cut you off gently. “we all do. you don’t have to stay long. just come, have some food, catch up. it doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

you frowned, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your lunch container. “i’m not great at…socialising these days.”

“that’s fine,” she reassured, her voice soft. “just come as you are. no one’s expecting anything from you.”

you hesitated, torn between the comfort of your solitude and the faint pull of connection her words stirred in you. “i’ll think about it,” you said finally, though the words felt like an excuse.

for a moment, you let yourself wonder what it would be like to let her in, to let someone care about you again. but the fear of losing her — of losing anyone — was too much.

“don’t just think about it,” she said, standing up and grabbing her things. “you’re coming. i’ll pick you up after your shift. and don’t even think about bailing.”

“rina —”

“i mean it, y/n,” she cut you off with a grin that somehow felt more like a challenge. “we’ll eat at aeri’s. it’ll be fun. you might even smile. who knows?”

you shook your head, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at your lips as you watched her walk away. she paused at the door, turning back to look at you.

“and bring pictures of rome,” she added. “aeri and yizhuo will want to see how much of a menace he’s become.”

you didn’t respond, but you nodded, the warmth of her persistence lingering even after she was gone. as you returned to your rounds, you caught yourself thinking about her smile, her persistence, her refusal to give up on you.

you hated how it made you feel. hated the tiny flicker of warmth it sparked in a heart you had sworn to keep cold.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the shift had been surprisingly uneventful. for once, you weren’t racing from one emergency to the next and the patients you saw were mostly routine cases; check-ups, minor injuries, nothing life-threatening. as the hours dragged on, you found yourself in a slightly better mood than usual, a rare occurrence these days.

the thought of dinner at aeri’s later still felt strange, but not as daunting as it had earlier. perhaps it was the conversation with jimin, or maybe you were just too tired to keep holding up the walls you’d built around yourself.

jiwoo, ever persistent in her cheerful attempts to connect with you, caught up with you as you clocked out. “you seemed a bit more relaxed today,” she said, her tone light but teasing. “you’re not scaring off the patients as much.”

you smirked faintly, shaking your head. “glad to know i’m improving.”

as the two of you stepped outside, the cool evening air hit your face. you pulled out your nearly empty cigarette box, shaking one out with practised ease. the box crinkled, reminding you that you’d bought it only yesterday. you lit up, the flame from your lighter flickering briefly before catching.

she wrinkled her nose. “you really should quit, you know.”

“yeah, yeah,” you muttered, exhaling smoke into the air. “everyone’s a critic.”

she folded her arms, watching you for a moment before changing the subject. “so…karina from aespa really just brings you lunch sometimes? i feel like you’re pulling my leg.”

you chuckled softly, the sound surprising both of you. “it’s true. we know each other from my…better days.”

she tilted her head, curiosity written all over her face. “what does that mean?”

you hesitated, taking another drag from your cigarette. “we were friends. through minjeong.”

her eyes widened slightly, but she didn’t press further. she’d been around long enough to know your ex was a subject best avoided. instead, she smiled softly. “must be nice to have someone like that still looking out for you.”

“it is,” you admitted quietly, unintentionally exhaling curls of smoke towards her direction. “sorry.”

she chuckled, shaking her head. “it’s okay — and you seem really bright around her, you know? i think she brings out the best in you.”

you hummed, nodding as you stubbed the cigarette under your shoe. “she’s just a friend; nothing more.”

minjeong and jimin. two names you hadn’t expected to be tied together so tightly in your mind. yet, lately, it was impossible not to think of one without the other.

minjeong had been everything to you once. she was the love you thought would last forever, the one you trusted with all of yourself. and even though she had shattered you, you still couldn’t bring yourself to hate her. there was a part of you that would always respect what you shared, even if it ended so painfully.

and then there was jimin. minjeong’s best friend. the one who had been there long before you entered the picture. the one who probably knew minjeong better than anyone else.

it felt…strange, wrong even, to start seeing jimin in a way that might be more than friendship. you respected her too much — her persistence, her kindness, the way she stayed by your side when no one else could reach you. she wasn’t just some comforting presence in your life; she was someone you admired deeply.

before jiwoo could say anything else, a sleek black car pulled up to the kerb. jimin leaned out of the driver’s side window, her signature grin lighting up her face. “well, well. look who’s socialising.”

her jaw practically dropped. “oh my god, it really is her.”

jimin waved casually. “hey, jiwoo, right? need a lift? there’s plenty of room.”

jiwoo blushed furiously, waving her hands. “oh, no, no. my boyfriend’s coming to pick me up. but thanks.”

“suit yourself,” she said, winking playfully before turning her attention to you. “you ready?”

you nodded, giving jiwoo a small wave before slipping into the passenger seat. the car smelled like leather and a faint hint of vanilla, a stark contrast to the cigarette smoke still clinging to your scrubs.

“you reek of cigarettes, you know,” she pointed out as she pulled out onto the road, her tone more teasing than scolding. “how many have you had today?”

you shrugged, leaning your head against the window. “i don’t count.”

“you should. your lungs aren’t invincible, doctor,” she quipped, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you smirked faintly. “and you’re suddenly a health expert?”

“no,” she admitted, grinning. “but i care about you not hacking up a lung in ten years.”

the corners of your mouth twitched, the warmth of her concern nudging at the edges of your guarded heart. you changed the subject, gesturing at the car’s pristine interior. “nice car.”

“of course it’s nice,” she replied, flashing a proud smile. “you think i’d settle for anything less?”

you chuckled softly, shaking your head. “why do you think i catch the train, then?”

she glanced at you, curious. “i always wondered about that. you can afford a car. why put yourself through that misery?”

you hesitated, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag. “because…i don’t know. it makes me feel better. seeing a million other miserable people in the train. reminds me i’m not the only one stuck in this mess.”

jimin didn’t respond immediately, her grip on the wheel tightening slightly. when she finally spoke, her voice was soft. “you’re not as miserable as you think, y/n.”

you huffed a small laugh, not entirely believing her but appreciating the sentiment. “sure.”

the silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, just reflective. it was jimin who broke it. “do you need to stop anywhere before we head to aeri’s?”

you hesitated for a moment before nodding. “can we stop at my apartment? i need to feed rome and shower. i smell like the hospital.”

“of course,” she said, her tone brightening. “you know, i don’t mind. i’m just happy to hear more than two words out of you.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the faint smile tugging at your lips. “don’t get used to it.”

“too late,” she quipped, her grin widening as she turned the car towards your apartment.

the rest of the ride to your place was quiet, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. you found yourself glancing at her more than you intended, the soft light highlighting the gentle curve of her jaw, the way her hair fell just so around her face. she was undeniably beautiful.

it wasn’t something you hadn’t noticed before —jimin had always been striking, but sitting this close to her, the air between you filled with the faint scent of her perfume, it felt different.

more intimate.

your gaze lingered on her profile, tracing the slope of her nose, the soft pink of her lips, the way her expression relaxed whenever the traffic eased. the thought crept into your mind unbidden, catching you off guard: she’s really beautiful.

the streets blurred past, but your mind was elsewhere, swirling with a mixture of confusion and guilt. it felt wrong to think about her like that when she was minjeong’s best friend.

it was complicated enough having her in your life so prominently now. you couldn’t add feelings to the mix.

“what’s wrong?” jimin’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, her tone light but tinged with curiosity.

you turned to see her glancing at you briefly before returning her focus to the road. her question made your heart race slightly and you felt heat creeping up your neck.

“nothing,” you said quickly, your voice betraying your awkwardness.

she smirked, clearly unconvinced. “you’ve been quiet. and you keep looking at me. what’s going on in that head of yours?”

you swallowed hard, your palms suddenly feeling clammy. you debated brushing it off, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. “you…you just look nice today, that’s all.”

the silence that followed was deafening. her grip on the steering wheel faltered slightly and her cheeks flushed a soft pink, lips parting as if she was going to say something, but she quickly pressed them together, biting back a grin.

“shut up,” she said finally, her voice quieter than usual, but the blush on her face betrayed her.

you felt your own cheeks burn, suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you were in the small car.

“i was just saying,” you mumbled, your fingers fidgeting with the strap of your bag.

“yeah, well, don’t,” she shot back, though her tone was more playful than serious.

the tension between you was palpable, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was something else entirely, something neither of you was ready to name.

the car rolled to a stop just outside your apartment building, its headlights briefly illuminating the cracked pavement. you unbuckled your seatbelt, glancing up at the familiar, worn façade of the place you’d called home for years. it looked the same, but somehow it always felt emptier every time you came back.

“hey,” jimin began, her voice breaking through your thoughts. “can i please see rome? just for a minute. aeri and yizhuo will be so jealous.”

you frowned, your hand pausing on the door handle. “my apartment’s a mess. i haven’t had anyone over in a long time.”

“i don’t care,” she said easily, her grin unfaltering. “you should see the state of mine. you’d think i was filming a disaster documentary.”

you sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let it go. “fine. but don’t say i didn’t warn you.”

she flashed a triumphant smile. “deal.”

in the elevator, you found yourself uncharacteristically aware of her presence. it wasn’t just that she was your ex-fiancée’s ex-best friend — it was the fact that, even after everything, jimin was still here, still trying to pull you out of the dark pit you had thrown yourself into.

you shifted awkwardly, your hand trembling slightly at your side. the metal walls of the elevator seemed to amplify your unease. without a word, she reached over and gently squeezed your hand. her grip was steady, grounding, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to hold on.

“it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t respond, but her touch was enough to steady you.

as soon as you unlocked the door, the sound of tiny paws skittering across the hardwood floor filled the air. rome came bounding towards you, his tail wagging so hard it looked like it might fall off.

“romie,” you said, your voice softening for the first time all day. you crouched down to pet him, his fur warm and familiar against your hand.

jimin let out an audible gasp. “oh my god. he’s even cuter than i remember.” she immediately dropped her bag and scooped him up, cradling him like a baby. “hi, buddy. remember me?”

he licked her face enthusiastically, his little legs wriggling in her arms. you couldn’t help but smile at the sight, even as you stood up and rubbed the back of your neck.

“make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the apartment. “i’m going to get ready.”

she nodded, her attention fully on rome. “take your time. we’re going to have a bonding moment.”

as you disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water began to echo faintly, muffled by the door you’d closed behind you. she sat on the edge of your sofa with rome, her eyes wandering around your apartment.

the place was cleaner than she expected — it wasn’t messy, but it felt bare. the walls were stripped of personality and there wasn’t a single photo or decoration to suggest that anyone else had once shared this space with you. it was a stark contrast to the way she remembered it years ago, when minjeong had still been part of your life.

now, it was as if you had erased every trace of her.

her gaze drifted to the kitchen counter, where an open bottle of whiskey sat next to a half-empty glass. there were other bottles too, some empty, others half-finished, lined up neatly on the sideboard. her chest tightened at the sight, and she had to swallow the sudden lump in her throat.

all she wanted to do was love you. all of you. the person you were now, the person you had been before, even the parts that you were trying to bury under layers of pain and grief.

jimin leaned back against the sofa, letting out a soft sigh as her thoughts turned inward. it should feel wrong, this pull she felt toward you. you were minjeong’s ex-fiancée. she had been your everything once. she had seen it firsthand — the way the two of you fit together, the quiet understanding in your shared glances; your love seemed unshakable.

and yet, here she was, sitting in your apartment, waiting for you while you showered, her heart heavy with feelings she couldn’t push away.

she didn’t know when it had started. this shift in how she saw you. maybe it was that day at the hospital, months ago. she’d been visiting aeri and yizhuo and wanted to bring you lunch when she passed by the paediatrics ward and caught sight of you comforting a young boy.

he had been crying, terrified of getting his vaccinations and you’d knelt down to his level, your voice soft and reassuring.

“it’s okay,” you reassured in a gentle tone, holding out your hand for him to squeeze. “you’re so brave. and once it’s over, you’ll get a cool sticker. how about that?”

the boy had stopped crying long enough to nod and you smiled at him — wide, genuine and full of warmth. it had been the first time she had seen you smile like that in years.

all it took was that one moment.

she had tried to suppress her feelings after that. tried to remind herself of the boundaries she needed to keep but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about you.

she had gone on dates, tried seeing other people, hoping it would dull the ache but none of them made her feel the way you did.

no one else mattered. it was maddening as it was terrifying, but it was also undeniable.

jimin ran a hand through her hair, her fingers brushing against the back of her neck as she let out another sigh. aeri and yizhuo didn’t seem to think there was anything wrong with how she felt.

“i don’t really see the problem,” aeri had said bluntly one night over dinner, shrugging as she picked her rice. “minjeong packed up and left her old life behind. what’s the problem?”

“you’re not stealing anyone’s woman,” yizhuo chimed in with a smirk, earning a glare from jimin.

“it’s not that simple,” jimin argued, though their words had lingered.

now, sitting here in your apartment, surrounded by the quiet evidence of your pain, she felt the full weight of her feelings.

she wasn’t just drawn to you — she was in love with you. completely, overwhelmingly in love.

the water shut off and the apartment grew silent. she straightened slightly, her heart pounding as she heard you moving around in the bathroom. she didn’t know if she could ever say it out loud, but in this moment, she didn’t need to.

“he likes you,” you said as you stepped out, nodding towards rome, who was now curled up in her lap, his eyes half-closed in contentment.

“what’s not to like?” she replied, scratching behind his ears. “he’s a smart dog. clearly knows quality people when he sees them.”

“right, of course,” you gave a faint smile, leaning against the doorframe. “ready to go?”

“yeah,” she said, reluctantly setting rome down. she grabbed her bag and followed you to the door, glancing back once at the apartment before stepping out.

as you rode down in the elevator, the silence between you was comfortable this time. she didn’t say anything about the empty walls or the whiskey.

…this shouldn’t be happening.

when the doors slid open to the ground floor, jimin spun her keys around her finger, her expression bright with mischief. she tossed them towards you without warning, the metal jingling as they flew through the air.

“you’re driving,” she declared, slipping into the passenger seat before you could argue.

you caught the keys instinctively, furrowing your brow. “why?”

“because,” she said, already buckling her seatbelt, “i want to test your driving skills. it’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

you gave her an unimpressed look, holding the keys loosely in your hand. “you just want to be a passenger princess.”

she gasped theatrically, clutching at her chest like you just insulted her deepest values. “how dare you. i am not a passenger princess.”

“sure,” you said, shaking your head as you got into the driver’s seat. “whatever you say.”

jimin smirked, leaning back into the seat with a smug expression. “prove me wrong then. show me you can still handle a car like the pro you are.”

you rolled your eyes but started the car anyway, the familiar hum of the engine filling the space between you. as you adjusted the mirrors and pulled out onto the street, you couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at your lips.

for the first time in a while, the banter felt easy, even enjoyable.

but then, without thinking, the words slipped out.

“minjeong used to do that,” you muttered softly, almost to yourself. “she would always make me drive so she could either pick the music or nap.”

the air in the car shifted instantly, the lightness replaced by something heavier. you stiffened, gripping the steering wheel tightly as you realised what you said. your eyes stayed firmly on the road, the silence between you now deafening.

she didn’t speak right away and for a moment, you wished the earth would just swallow you whole.

then, she broke the silence, her voice softer, more careful. “you know…it’s okay to talk about her, i don’t mind.”

you blinked, your knuckles whitening on the steering wheel. “is it?” you said flatly, though there was no anger in your tone, just weariness.

“yeah,” she replied turning slightly to face you. “it’s okay to acknowledge that she existed. that you loved her even though she hurt you, pretending she didn’t matter isn’t going to help you move on.”

you swallowed hard, throat tightening. the logical part of you knew she was right, but the emotional part; the one that still felt raw and exposed whenever minjeong’s name came up wasn’t ready to admit it.

so you said nothing, the silence stretching uncomfortably again.

after a minute of beating around the bush, jimin sighed softly, her voice tinged with regret. “sorry. i didn’t mean to push. i just —”

“it’s fine,” you interrupted, surprising even yourself with the quiet sincerity in your voice. you glanced at her briefly, a small, genuine smile crossing your face. “really.”

she relaxed visibly, her shoulders dropping as the tension eased. “okay,” she said, her own smile returning, though it was softer this time.

as you drove, jimin’s own thoughts began to spiral. hearing you talk about minjeong felt like a punch to the gut, but she couldn’t blame you. she was your first love, the one who had taken up all the space in your heart before it was broken.

how could she even try to compete with that?

she knew there was a part of you that might never stop loving minjeong, no matter how much time passed.

she glanced at you again, catching the way your shoulders had relaxed slightly, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

it doesn’t matter how long it takes, she thought to herself. i’ll wait. for as long as it takes, i’ll wait for her.

when you pulled up to aeri’s apartment building, jimin hopped out of the car, clearly energised. she waited for you to join her, rocking on her heels as you locked the car behind you.

“ready for the chaos?” she asked, flashing a grin.

“as ready as i’ll ever be,” you muttered, following her into the lift as you took the luxurious sight in. “god, she’s expensive as ever, isn’t she?”

she chuckled, tapping your arm lightly. “don’t say anything about it or else you’re going to start a fight.”

the elevator doors slid shut with a soft hum, the quiet clink of the mechanisms filling the small space. you stood beside her, your hand clutching the strap of your bag as your stomach twisted with nerves.

it had been years since you had last been to aeri’s apartment, and now, as the numbers on the elevator panel lit up one by one, the memories began flooding back.

everything felt heavier in your chest — the last time you were here, everything was different. you hadn’t seen those girls properly in so long and the thought of walking into a space that had once felt so familiar left you uneasy.

jimin, standing close to you, noticed the slight tremour in your hand. without a word, she reached over and gently squeezed it once more, her fingers warm and firm against yours.

“you’re okay,” she said softly, her voice steady. “it’s just aeri and yizhuo. they’re gonna be so happy to see you.”

you nodded but didn’t say anything, focusing instead on the way her hand steadied your own. as the elevator neared the top floor, she started to pull away, her fingers slipping from yours.

but you held on, tightening your grip instinctively. “can you —” you started, your voice barely above a whisper. “just for a bit longer.”

she didn’t say anything, but her fingers curled back around yours, holding on tightly. the two of you stood like that in silence, the elevator’s hum filling the space; it felt like the calm before a storm you weren’t sure you could weather alone.

the elevator dinged and you stepped into the hallway with jimin by your side. your hand was still holding hers from earlier, though you hadn’t realised it until she glanced down briefly, her fingers tightening just a little before she let go.

“sorry,” you awkwardly mumbled, blood rushing to your cheeks.

“don’t be.”

the warmth lingered even as you adjusted the strap of your bag and followed her toward aeri’s door; it opened before you could even knock.

“y/n!” aeri’s voice was the first thing you heard, loud and filled with surprise and excitement. “no way, it’s really you!”

you barely had time to blink before she lunged forward, throwing her arms around your neck and dragging you into a tight hug. before you could respond, a second body crashed into you from the side — yizhuo, her laughter echoing through the hallway.

“oh my gosh, she’s actually here,” yizhuo said, her grin wide as she squeezed you tightly. “rina, what the hell did you do to her? hypnosis? bribery? a chloroform rag?”

“definitely drugged her bubble tea,” aeri chimed in, her face still buried in your shoulder. “there’s no way y/n came here willingly.”

“guys, get off me!” you laughed, trying to push them away, but your voice lacked any real force. their energy was infectious, and though part of you wanted to retreat, a bigger part…one you hadn’t felt in years just wanted to stay in this moment.

“nope,” yizhuo groaned, holding on even tighter. “you don’t get to vanish for two years and show up out of nowhere like nothing happened. you’re gonna deal with this. this being us smothering you with love.”

“you should be grateful,” aeri added with a smirk, finally pulling back just enough to look at you. “this is premium-grade affection. we don’t just give this to anyone.”

jimin stood to the side, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed, her smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “i didn’t drug her, by the way,” she said casually, her voice dripping with mock indignation. “she came because she missed you guys. obviously.”

“liar,” yizhuo shot back, narrowing her eyes. “there’s no way y/n came willingly. what’s your secret, jimin? blackmail? compromising photos?”

“it was the bubble tea,” jimin said, straight-faced. “i spiked it with nostalgia.”

“sounds like you put something stronger than nostalgia in there,” aeri quipped, her grin widening.

you rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed you. “you guys are ridiculous.”

“you missed us,” yizhuo said smugly, finally releasing you from her grip. “admit it.”

“maybe,” you muttered, smoothing down your shirt. “a little.”

aeri gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “a little? i’m hurt. offended, even.”

jimin stepped forward, pulling out her phone. “hold still,” she said, her grin mischievous. “this is a historic moment.”

“don’t you dare,” you warned, your voice rising in mock panic as she aimed the camera at the three of you.

the flash went off before you could stop her, capturing a candid shot of aeri still clinging to your side, yizhuo laughing uncontrollably and you mid-protest with a faint smile tugging at your lips.

“perfect,” jimin said, already typing away as she uploaded the photo to her story. “caption: my three idiots.”

“three?” aeri asked, raising an eyebrow. “don’t you mean two idiots and one innocent victim?”

“you’re definitely the biggest idiot here,” yizhuo smirked at her. “but it’s okay. we still love you.”

“barely,” jimin quipped, her tone teasing as she slid her phone back into her pocket.

the apartment buzzed with laughter and conversation as the four of you settled in for dinner. the table was covered in food — aeri’s version of cooking: ramen, pizza boxes, bowls of chips and a bottle of wine that she had insisted on opening way before dinner.

“so,” aeri began, leaning forward with her elbows on the table. “doctor, what have you been up to? saving lives? breaking hearts? fighting crime?”

“you act like i’ve been doing something exciting,” you shook your head as you picked at your pizza. “it’s just been work. and more work.”

“classic y/n,” yizhuo threw her hands up dramatically. “always married to the job.”

“it’s a demanding spouse,” you joked, surprising yourself at how easily the humour came.

“does it at least make you breakfast in bed?” aeri teased, wagging her eyebrows.

“nope,” you replied, smirking. “just gives me migraines.”

“sounds toxic,” jimin said, her voice light. “you should break up with it.”

“and do what?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “become a full-time boba taster?”

“not a bad idea,” yizhuo chimed in, taking another bite of her slice. “you’d have jimin’s full support.”

aeri shrugged. “or you could just be her housewife. she’s a millionaire, you know?”

you dared to steal a glance, expecting jimin to brush off their teasing, but instead, she was looking right at you. her gaze was steady, her lips tugged into the faintest smile.

the way she looked at you sent your heart racing and you quickly looked away, focusing on the slice of pizza in your hand as if it held all the answers in the universe.

as the night went on, you found yourself relaxing more, your initial nervousness melting away under the warmth of their banter. but then your eyes wandered to the wall across the room, where a cluster of framed photos hung.

they were all of aespa — smiling, performing, and posing together in various moments that captured their bond. your gaze caught one in particular: minjeong standing between aeri and yizhuo, her face frozen in time among her friends.

the memories threatened to creep in, but before they could overwhelm you, you felt jimin’s gaze on you. you glanced over and she was already smiling softly, her expression reassuring. it was enough to steady you, to remind you that it was okay to feel what you felt.

“we haven’t done much since minjeong left,” aeri’s voice cut through the comfortable buzz of the room.

“yeah,” yizhuo added, swirling her wine glass. “we’ve released a few singles here and there, but it’s not the same. we’re not really aespa without her.”

jimin nodded, her expression thoughtful. “it’s been different,” she admitted. “but we’re figuring it out.”

“figuring it out,” yizhuo repeated, snorting. “aka, doing nothing but lazing around and ordering takeout.”

aeri grinned. “we’ve perfected the art of slacking, we should win awards for it.”

their banter was light and the laughter genuine. it pulled you back into the moment. for the first time in what felt like forever, you found yourself laughing along with them — really laughing.

as the night wore on, the chaos around the table began to settle into a comfortable rhythm. the laughter quieted and the conversation took on a more relaxed, intimate tone. the pizza boxes were mostly empty and aeri poured another glass of wine for herself and yizhuo, both of them visibly enjoying the rare moment of everyone being together.

with your bag slung over your shoulder, jimin stood by the door while aeri and yizhuo hugged you tightly.

“you know,” aeri began, leaning back. “it’s really nice to have you here, y/n. we’ve missed you.”

“like, really missed you,” yizhuo said, her tone serious for once. “i mean, i know life’s been…a lot. but you don’t have to disappear on us, you know? we’re always here for you.”

the words hung in the air, their sincerity hitting you harder than you expected. you stared at the table for a moment, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your glass.

“i know,” you said quietly, your voice softer than usual. “and i’m sorry. for shutting you guys out. it wasn’t fair. i was more embarrassed —“

“it’s not about fair,” aeri interjected gently, setting her glass down. “we just don’t want to lose you again. you’re important to us, y/n. even if you’ve got your walls up, we’ll keep knocking.”

“and by knocking, she means barging in,” yizhuo added with a grin, earning a laugh from both you and jimin.

“i mean it, though,” she continued, her tone earnest. “we’re here for you. anytime.”

jimin glanced at you, her eyes soft, but she didn’t say anything. she didn’t need to — the look she gave you was enough.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “thanks, i…i missed you guys too. i’ll see you guys next weekend?”

“of course,” yizhuo smiled, kissing your cheek goodbye. “rome better be prepared for aeri’s annoying ass.”

aeri rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “stop talking, ning, y/n has to go!”

“yeah, right, forgot you guys were unemployed,” you rubbed the back of your head with a laugh as you turned and began to walk with jimin. “see you both soon.”

the walk back to jimin’s car was quiet, the cool night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the apartment. you shoved your hands into your pockets, your footsteps echoing lightly on the pavement. she walked beside you, her shoulder close enough to brush against yours occasionally.

“you okay?” she asked after a moment, glancing at you.

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “yeah, i had a good time.”

“good,” she said simply, her own smile soft and genuine.

you hesitated, your gaze fixed on the ground as you spoke. “i didn’t realise how much i missed them. being with them…it felt normal. like…like things weren’t so heavy for a while.”

she nodded, her pace slowing slightly. “that’s the thing about aeri and yizhuo. they’re chaotic as fuck, but they have this way of making you forget about the rest of the world.”

“they do,” you agreed, your smile widening just a fraction. “i think i needed that.”

she stopped walking and turned to face you, her hands slipping into her coat pockets. “you don’t have to wait two years to do it again, you know. they meant it when they said they’re here for you. and so did i.”

you met her gaze, the sincerity in her eyes making your chest tighten. “i know. and…thanks, rina. for everything.”

she shrugged lightly, though the faint blush creeping up her neck betrayed her. “you don’t have to thank me. i just want you to be okay.”

“i think…i’m getting there,” you admitted, your voice soft. “slowly.”

she smiled, her expression a mix of relief and something else you couldn’t quite name. “that’s all that matters.”

as the two of you reached the car, you hesitated again, the words forming on your lips before you could stop them. “jimin?”

“yeah?” she asked, pausing as she unlocked the doors.

you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to meet her gaze. “thank you. for not giving up on me. and…for reminding me that it’s okay to let people in.”

her smile softened, and she reached out to squeeze your arm briefly. “i never would. i’m just glad you’re here.”

you nodded, climbing into the passenger seat as she started the car. as she drove, the hum of the engine and the faint city lights passing by felt less daunting than they usually did. for the first time in a long time, you felt like you weren’t alone. and perhaps, you didn’t have to be.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the train rocked gently as it made its way through seoul’s early morning haze. you sat in your usual spot by the window, absently watching the buildings blur together. for once, you didn’t look like you had just rolled out of bed and barely made it to the station; your scrubs were tidy, hair tied back neatly and there was even a faint sheen of moisturiser on your face — a small but deliberate effort to feel a little more presentable.

it wasn’t much, but it was something. after that dinner with the remaining members of aespa, you found yourself thinking…about how much you had isolated yourself and how it might not be the worst thing in the world to try again.

to exist around people who cared.

your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your thoughts. you hesitated before pulling it out, already knowing who it would be.

-

from: jimin - aespa

do you still like purple taro bubble tea or has your taste in drinks gotten worse too?

sent 7:50 AM

-

you sighed, the faintest of smiles tugging at your lips despite yourself. she had a way of making her presence known, whether you wanted it or not. since dinner at aeri’s, she had been texting you more often, showing up at the hospital and generally refusing to let you retreat back into your solitude.

you stared at the message for a long moment, the smile fading as doubt crept in.

why was she doing this? why did she care? she was an idol, a successful one at that, with a million other things she could be doing.

the thought made your chest tighten. you typed a response, your fingers moving quickly.

to: jimin - aespa

yes, but you should do better things with your time than hanging out at the hospital with me.

sent 7:51 AM

you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you were being too harsh, but the thought of her spending so much effort on you — it felt undeserved. and it scared you. you hit send and immediately turned your phone off, tucking it back into your pocket.

the train ride passed in a blur, the rhythmic clatter of the wheels luring you into a daze. when you stepped off at your station, the morning chill greeted you, sharp against your skin. you pulled your coat tighter around yourself, your hand instinctively reaching into your pocket for your cigarette box. the box was light — too light — but you fished out a cigarette and lit it, the flame flickering in the breeze.

you took a long drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs before exhaling slowly. it didn’t help much, never did, but it gave you something to do, something to focus on. your thoughts, as they often did, drifted to minjeong. her face, her voice, the way she used to call you at the hospital just to complain about how exhausting her day was.

but lately, your thoughts had started to wander elsewhere, too. to jimin. her relentless persistence, her easy smiles and just the way she had managed to slip into your life without you even realising. you hated how much space she was starting to take up in your head.

it felt…complicated. and you didn’t do complicated anymore.

as you walked, cigarette still in hand, your gaze caught on a small coffee shop just opening for the morning. the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafted out, the barista flipping the “open” sign to face the street. you stopped in your tracks, hesitating before stepping inside.

the shop was warm, the faint whir of an espresso machine filling the air. you approached the counter, glancing at the menu even though you already knew what you wanted.

“can i get a caramel latte?” you asked, your voice soft but steady. after a pause, you added: “actually, make that two. one iced, one hot.”

the barista nodded, tapping your order into the register. you waited by the counter, the warmth of the shop a sharp contrast to the cool morning outside.

when the drinks were ready, you grabbed the cups and stepped back out onto the street, beginning your trek towards the hospital, the steam from the hot latte curling into the chilly air.

you didn’t usually do this — go out of your way for someone else. but jiwoo had been kind to you for nearly a year now, always trying to engage, smiling even when you brushed her off. maybe it was time to start giving something back, even if just a little.

when you walked into the hospital, the familiar buzz of activity greeted you. you spotted jiwoo at the nurses’ station, her head bent over a stack of charts.

you approached her quietly, holding out the iced caramel latte. “here.”

she looked up, her eyes widening in surprise. “what’s this?”

“thought you’d like one,” you replied, shrugging.

she stared at you for a moment before breaking into a wide grin. “wow, y/n. are you feeling okay? did you hit your head?”

you rolled your eyes, but there was a faint smile on your lips. “don’t get used to it.”

she laughed, taking the drink. “thank you. seriously. this is…really sweet of you.”

you nodded, already turning to leave. “see you later.”

“karina’s a good influence isn’t she?” she raised an eyebrow, teasing tone audible. you flipped her off, a faint blush creeping up your cheeks.

right.

the rest of the day passed in a haze of patient charts and routine procedures. you kept your phone off, avoiding the temptation to check for a reply from jimin but as the hours wore on, you found yourself thinking about her text more and more.

despite your earlier message, you couldn’t shake the image of her showing up at the hospital later, bubble tea in hand, her grin as smug as ever.

you hated how much the thought warmed you. but you didn’t push it away either. maybe you were starting to feel okay with someone caring again.

the faint hum of fluorescent lights filled the space as you flipped through a patient’s chart. it was a rare quiet in your often chaotic schedule these past few days, one that allowed you a moment to breathe and reset before the next inevitable call.

signing off on an order, you heaved out a sigh as you reached out for your pen. then, an older nurse came barrelling towards you — panting.

“doctor y/n!” she called, her tone sharp enough to cut through the calm.

you straightened immediately, the chart forgotten. “what is it?”

“we’ve got a trauma case in the OR,” she said, her words rushing out in a panicked stream. “male, thirty-one, massive internal bleeding from a car accident. he’s critical. there’s no other trauma surgeon on call.”

you froze for half a second, the weight of her words sinking in. the situation wasn’t unusual; emergencies happened all the time, but when she added the final detail, your stomach twisted painfully.

“he was on his way to his wedding,” she said, her voice cracking slightly.

the words hit you like

“prep the OR,” you said firmly, already moving. “i’ll be on my way.”

the words hit you like a truck, but you didn’t let it show. you pushed the memories down, shoving them into the mental box you had built for moments like this.

there was no time to think, no time to feel.

the operating room was a blur of activity when you arrived, the team already scrubbing in and preparing the patient. you quickly donned yours, hands moving with practised precision even as your mind raced.

the man on the table looked young, too young to be fighting for his life. his face was pale, his breathing shallow and the monitors surrounding him beeped erratically.

“what’s his status?” you asked, your voice calm despite the chaos around you.

“male, 31, car accident on the way to his wedding. chest trauma, ruptured spleen, internal bleeding, fractured ribs — we tried contacting other trauma surgeons, but you’re the only one available.”

you clenched your jaw, nodding as you pulled on your gloves. there was no room for hesitation now, no room for your own feelings to surface. the situation was painfully familiar, too close to home, but you buried it deep. your only focus was the man on the table, his life hanging by a thread.

you nodded, stepping into position. “scalpel.”

the surgery was gruelling. time seemed to blur as you worked, every second stretching into an eternity. the damage was extensive — a ruptured spleen, lacerations to the liver and fractures to his ribs that had caused additional complications. you moved methodically, your hands steady even as sweat trickled down your temple.

“suction,” you said, your voice steady despite the pressure.

the nurse complied and you continued, carefully navigating the delicate web of organs and tissues.

“laceration to the liver,” you muttered, leaning closer. “clamp here. we need to stop this before we lose him.”

time blurred as you worked, every movement calculated, every decision critical. the fractures in his ribs had caused additional internal damage, complicating an already precarious situation.

“keep the suction steady,” you said, glancing at the anaesthesiologist. “how’s he holding up?”

“stable for now,” came the reply, though the tension in the room didn’t ease.

the hours dragged on, your focus unwavering even as exhaustion began to creep in. piece by piece, you repaired the damage.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the monitors began to steady. “his vitals are improving,” one of the nurses announced, relief evident in her voice.

“he’s going to make it,” you stepped back, your hands trembling slightly as you removed the gloves.

the team around you exhaled collectively, and a few murmured congratulations filled the room. but you didn’t feel triumphant — just drained.

you barely made it outside before pulling out a cigarette, your hands still shaking from the adrenaline. the first drag burned your throat, but the sting was grounding, pulling you back into yourself.

leaning against the hospital’s garden wall, you stared blankly at the stick in your hand.

the man’s story, on his way to his wedding, was too close to home. it dug up memories you’d spent years trying to bury.

the cigarette fell from your hand as the first sob escaped your lips, your shoulders trembling under the weight of three years’ worth of suppressed grief — fingers curling into fists, nails digging into your palms as your breath hitched.

the memories came in waves, unrelenting. you’d spent three years holding it all back: every ounce of heartbreak, every pang of humiliation, every question that would never be answered.

but tonight, the dam finally broke.

you thought about the way you stood there, waiting, believing with everything in you that she would show up. the way you smiled nervously at your parents, at hers, then to the guests who had all gathered to celebrate something that wasn’t real anymore.

the embarrassment, the pitying glances, the murmured apologies you had given when it wasn’t your fault — it all came rushing back, every detail sharper than it had been in years.

the door to the garden creaked open behind you, and you stiffened, trying to choke back the sounds of your crying. you didn’t want anyone to see you like this but the footsteps were soft, familiar and you knew who it was before you even looked up.

jimin.

she approached slowly, her shoes crunching lightly on the gravel. she didn’t say anything at first, just stopped a few feet away, her presence warm and steady. you didn’t look up nor acknowledged her, but you didn’t have to. she came closer, lowering herself to sit beside you on the bench.

at first, she didn’t touch you. she gave you space, her hands resting in her lap as she watched you silently. but when your sobs grew louder, your shoulders trembling uncontrollably, she shifted closer, wrapping an arm around you.

she had seen you leave the hospital, your steps hurried and your shoulders hunched as if you were carrying something too heavy for anyone to bear. she had followed, keeping her distance, not wanting to intrude but unable to let you be alone in whatever you were carrying.

“it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice steady and grounding. “let it out. i’m here.”

she’d never seen you like this. not even on that day three years ago. back then, you held yourself together, a picture of forced composure that betrayed none of what you were feeling.

you leaned into her without thinking, her warmth a comfort you hadn’t realised you needed. she wrapped her arms around you as the tears kept coming, her presence anchouring you in a way that words couldn’t.

she held you tightly, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles on your back, the other resting against your head. she didn’t say anything, didn’t try to stop you. she just let you fall apart.

it felt like hours passed before your sobs began to subside, your breathing slowing into uneven gasps. you pulled back slightly, wiping at your face with trembling hands.

you didn’t dare look at her, too ashamed of your outburst.

“why do you do this?” you finally said, your voice hoarse and broken.

jimin frowned, tilting her head. “do what?”

“this,” you said, gesturing weakly between the two of you. “why do you keep doing all these nice things for me? why do you care so much?”

her expression softened, but before she could answer, you kept going, your voice rising with frustration — not at her, but at yourself.

“i’m…fucking look at me, i’m damaged goods, jimin. she left me for a reason and that’s because i wasn’t enough for her. and if i wasn’t enough for her, how the hell could i ever be enough for you?”

she opened her mouth to speak, but you pressed on, the words pouring out of you like a dam had broken.

“you should be with someone who has their shit together, someone who isn’t this broken mess. i don’t need fixing and i sure as hell don’t want fixing. i’m not your project, jimin. i don’t deserve this. i don’t deserve you.”

the silence that followed felt deafening. your chest heaved, the weight of your own words leaving you feeling exposed and raw. you kept your eyes on the ground, unable to face her.

then, slowly, she reached out, fingers brushing against your cheek and cupped your face in her hands, her touch gentle but firm. she tilted your head up, forcing you to meet her gaze. her eyes were glassy, tears brimming at the edges but her expression was steady.

“y/n,” her soft voice was shaking slightly but full of conviction. “you don’t get to decide what i feel. and you don’t get to tell me what you deserve because i’ve already decided what you deserve. and that’s everything.

you blinked, stunned into silence as she continued.

“i love you,” she said, the words slipping out with a raw honesty that made your chest tighten. “i love you. not because you’re perfect, not because you’re some project i want to fix. i love you because you’re you.”

her thumbs brushed away the tears on your cheeks, her voice breaking as she went on. “you’re messy. you’re stubborn. you push people away because you’re scared, and you think it’s easier to be alone. but you’re also kind and strong and you care so much that it hurts you. and i love all of it. all of you.”

your breath hitched, your heart pounding as her words settled over you. “jimin, i —”

“no,” she interrupted gently, shaking her head. “let me finish. i know you don’t believe me right now. i know you don’t feel like you’re enough. but you are. to me, you are.”

her voice cracked again as she took a deep breath to steady herself. “and even if you can’t see it yet, i’ll wait. i’ll wait as long as it takes for you to realise that you are enough. that you’ve always been enough.”

tears blurred your vision again, but this time, they weren’t from sadness. you stared at her, unable to find the words, the weight of her confession leaving you breathless.

“jimin,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling. “i don’t know if i can —”

“you don’t have to,” she said softly, her hands still cradling your face. “not right now. not until you’re ready. but just…let me stay. let me be here for you. that’s all i’m asking.”

you nodded, the smallest of movements, but it was enough. she pulled you into her arms again, holding you tightly as your tears began to fall once more…not from grief, but from the overwhelming relief of not being alone anymore.

perhaps you didn’t have to carry everything on your own anymore.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the tiny apartment in lisbon was quiet, save for the distant sound of street vendors calling out to evening crowds.

minjeong sat cross-legged on the worn wooden floor, her back leaning against the peeling wall. the room was sparse; just a bed, a suitcase, and a second-hand lamp casting a dim glow. this was her life now, moving from one place to the next, never staying long enough to plant roots.

it had been three years since she left.

three years of running, of trying to escape the shadow of the person she used to be. it hadn’t worked. no matter where she went, the memories followed her, clinging to her like smoke.

she thought back to the day she ran away with mingyu. she still didn’t understand why she had done it. it felt like rebellion; breaking free from the cage of her life. he had offered her a way out, a chance to escape the constant grind of fame, the suffocating expectations of being winter of aespa. in her desperation, she’d taken it without thinking.

it had been a mistake — the worst one of her life.

two weeks. that was all it took for everything to fall apart. he wasn’t the solution to her problems; he was just another lost soul trying to fill his own emptiness. they argued constantly, their personalities clashing until every word between them felt like a fight.

the final straw had been a shouting match in a dingy motel room somewhere in melbourne. she packed her bag that night and walked away, leaving him without a goodbye.

but leaving him didn’t fix anything. the damage was already done.

minjeong had spent the next three years living like a ghost, drifting from one country to another, working odd jobs to make ends meet. she cleaned houses in barcelona, waited tables in florence and even worked as a gardener in interlaken. she learned to enjoy the simplicity of it all — the routine of making her own meals, the anonymity of blending into crowds.

for the first time in her life, she wasn’t winter; the idol. she was just minjeong, a girl trying to figure out who she was.

the solitude changed her. she learned to live without the luxury she took for granted, without the constant validation of fans or the adoration of the public. it was hard, but it forced her to confront herself, to look at the mess she had made and start picking up the pieces.

but no matter how much she grew, no matter how much she tried to move on, there was one thing she couldn’t escape: you.

you had been the best thing that ever happened to her. she didn’t deserve you, not then and certainly not now. but you had loved her anyway, in a way that no one else ever had.

when the pressure of fame had weighed her down, when she felt like she was suffocating under the expectations of the world, you had been her lifeline.

she thought about the nights you stayed up with her, holding her close when the world felt too big. she remembered the way you would look at her, like she was more than the perfect image she tried so hard to maintain.

you saw her; the messy, flawed, human version of her…and you loved her anyway.

you had saved her when she was drowning. and how did she repay you? by leaving. by walking away on your wedding day, the day she should have promised herself to you forever.

she thought she was sparing you the burden of her brokenness, but all she did was break you too.

she thought about aespa too. they had been her sisters. she had abandoned them without a word, leaving them to pick up the pieces of her absence. she often found herself scrolling through their social media profiles, her heart aching at the sight of aeri and yizhuo laughing together or jimin’s rare selfies.

but it was jimin’s posts that hurt the most.

jimin had been her best friend, the one who knew her better than anyone else. now, her life seemed to revolve around you. her posts were filled with snapshots of dinners, quiet moments and candid photos of you that made minjeong’s chest tighten.

you were still beautiful, even more so than she remembered. but there was something different about you now — an air of weariness and guardedness that hadn’t been there before.

she knew she was responsible for that, and it tore her apart.

the breaking point came one quiet afternoon. she was scrolling through her phone, her thumb idly swiping through posts, when an article caught her eye.

“aespa’s karina opens up about her romantic life: ‘we’re taking things slow, but it’s happening.’”

her breath hitched as she clicked the link, her heart pounding. the article detailed jimin’s recent interview, where she had spoken openly about someone she’d been seeing.

“i’ve been spending a lot of time with someone who means a lot to me,” she had said. “we’re working our way through things in a romantic setting, but very slowly. there’s a lot of healing involved for both of us. but…i’m happy. she’s worth it.”

the accompanying photo was of jimin and you, leaving a restaurant together. her hand rested lightly on your back, her expression soft, almost protective. you looked relaxed, even happy, but there was still a shadow of something unreadable in your eyes.

minjeong stared at the photo for a long time, her chest tight. jimin’s words echoed in her mind: “she’s worth it.”

she closed her phone and sat in silence, her hands trembling. the reality of what she lost hit her all at once — not just you, but the life you could have had together.

and now, jimin was stepping into the space she had abandoned.

that night, she booked a plane ticket to seoul.

it wasn’t a decision made lightly, but she couldn’t stay away any longer.

she needed to apologise; to you, her family, to everyone she had hurt. she didn’t know if you would forgive her, but she had to try.

no matter how much time had passed, one thing remained true: you were her soulmate. and she wasn’t ready to give up on you, not yet.

“minjeong?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the end.