#especially before telling them quitting is the last resort like lady

[hog-babe]

I just remembered one time i paid a "job coach" 120 euros to basically tell me that i should stay in my job when i'd already decided i wanted to quit and i get so pissed

[meaningofaeons]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ majesty: prologue

⊹ word count - 2.1k ⊹ warnings/notes - mentions of blood, violence, etc. ⊹ taglist - @xphantasmagoriax @thatweirdcheshirecat @sparkleasteroid @fluffy-koalala @chopid

⊹ majesty masterpost ⊹ next part ⇾ chapter I.

it's finally here... the prologue to majesty! this is just a brief look into what happened to you, dear reader, before you reincarnate... look forward to the rest! and as always, be sure to check the masterpost for any updates! ty for reading!! /ᐠ .ᆺ. ᐟ\ﾉ

A shriek filled the once-peaceful courtyard, all eyes turned to the sight of a maid falling to her knees. Before her lay a body clothed in pure white, wine hair draped across the soft grass as its owner lay unmoving.

Blood. Crimson red and cruel, it spattered the serene gardens’ flowering buds, painting their once-soft colors into violent vibrance.

Next, the nobles’ eyes turned to the shattered glass. And then… onto you.

“P-Poison!”

Saintess Kafka’s personal maid was quick to screech in alarm, holding the noble woman to her chest as blood trickled from her mouth. “S-Saintess Kafka has been poisoned!”

“Call the physician!”

“Move, the Imperial Physician is on her way! Make way!”

You felt your throat go dry, your own blood running cold.

Who would dare poison the Saintess? And on a day like today no less?

It seems the nobles already had their answer, their gazes pointed on your wilting form.

“Was that glass not the one belonging to Lady ▉▉▉▉▉▉? Does Lady Y/N not… resent her? Especially after Lord Gepard...”

“It seems you’re right… And she was standing quite close, no less.”

“Look over there. Poor Lady ▉▉▉▉▉▉, she’s trembling… She must be so frightened.”

Me…? No, but I would never poison the Saintess! What reason would I have?!

Their words were like venom, their eyes full of malice as the guards arrived at the scene. It only took one of them speaking up for your heart to drop to your feet.

“No, I swear—!”

“Lady Y/N did it! I saw her!” a young noblewoman cried out, pointing her fan in your direction. You froze, mouth dry as you tried to defend yourself. “I saw her pour something strange, almost like a powder, right into Lady ▉▉▉▉▉▉’s drink! Then, Saintess Kafka drank it by mistake! It was all her!”

“No!” you cried in response, whipping your head around to find someone, anyone who would defend you. “I swear, it wasn’t me! I would never!”

Finally, your gaze landed on one. A familiar head of raven hair stood in the crowd, aquamarine eyes staring at you in shock. You smiled wobbly, trying to reach out. He was the only noble who had treated you with kindness left.

“Lord Dan Heng! Oh, thank goodness! Please, please tell them…”

He squeezed his eyes shut, turning away with a look of scorn. You felt a pang through your chest. Somehow, his silence felt worse than any disdainful words he could’ve imparted upon you. You once again scan the area, and finally, you fell upon your last resort.

“F-Father!”

You walked over, clinging to your father’s coat. 

The cold Duke stared back.

“Father, t-tell them… I’m your daughter, aren’t I? Tell them it’s all a misunderstanding! I didn’t—”

Duke Louis Fleming slapped your hand away. His brow furrowed, and he turned to the guards.

“Tell the Emperor we must expedit this trial. I’ll not have my honor tarnished any further than it already has been by this child. I’ll have nothing to do with her.”

You dropped to your knees.

“O-Of course!”

“Right away, Your Grace!”

There was no fight left to be had in you. You had to be forcibly dragged to your feet by the Imperial Guards, taken away against your will as you gazed up at your father one last time.

He hardly spared you one last contemptuous look, almost as though it was difficult for him to even face you, before turning away, walking with the other guards towards the Imperial Palace.

The nobles continued to whisper and gossip.

Saintess Kafka was taken away, and you didn’t even have it in you to wish she was okay.

Eventually, you forgot what happened next.

—

The trial was mostly blocked from memory.

All you could remember was the cold, desolate prison cell you had been tossed into, the harsh meals you had to endure. As a noblewoman growing up in luxury, it was almost akin to torture.

Then, you remembered more guards, and the sudden brightness and commotion of the courtroom.

Even expedited, it had taken three days for your trial to occur.

In that time, Saintess Kafka had recovered, and was indifferently present when the charges were brought against you.

You recall being able to say nothing in your own defense. Not after the only man who spoke kindly to you and the only family you ever had had forsaken you.

It was traumatic, hearing the nobles clamoring for your execution, for your head to be displayed on the walls of the Stellaron Capital’s walls, a warning to those who would dare harm the purest woman in the entire Empire.

However…

“Considering her noble lineage and the weight of her family’s name, Lady Y/N of the Stella Duchy is hereby banished from the Stellaron Empire forever in lieu of an execution.”

You didn’t even have it in you to feel anything. The news was numbing, yet insignificant now that you’d fallen this far.

“Should she return to this noble Empire, she shall be executed upon sight.”

You only stared down at your feet, a single tear rolling down your cheek.

“This sentence will be carried out at once. Guards, summon the carriage.”

And now, you were here. Staring out the window of the dreary horse-drawn carriage, gazing up into the night sky.

Where had things gone so wrong for you? 

Was it when you first realized that your own father had no fatherly love to give his own daughter?

Was it when Lord Gepard denied your proposal? Was it when he perished on the front lines, the very battle he escaped to to avoid marrying you after you forced his hand with your family’s influence?

Was it the moment you decided to take out your anger on that noble lady of the Astral County, who seemed to hold the militant Lord Gepard’s affections far more than you ever could?

Or maybe it was when Lord Dan Heng, the only one to show you kindness after Lord Gepard’s departure from this life, turned away from you in your moment of need.

Maybe it was also when your father finally left you behind once and for all.

The one and only stain on his perfect legacy.

Was there… ever any love to be had for me in this life?

If I could just go back… start over, and do everything again… Could I find people who would care for me?

The rickety journey came to a sudden halt, shaking you from your thoughts. Outside, you heard commotion in an instant, clamoring and yelling following suit as metal clashed.

“...figure in the distance! Ready your swords!”

“Wait, it’s—!”

“...A-Archduke?! You cannot—! AAGH!”

“Someone, send for help!”

“Run! Run!”

Screams and shouts of anguish resounded, and you squeezed your eyes shut, covering your ears at the sounds. A splatter of blood splashed onto the window opposite you, and you screamed despite yourself.

Your despondency was replaced by fear as all went quiet outside mere moments after the havoc had risen. And then, the carriage door flew open.

Your eyes fell upon the glimmering sword that stabbed into the wooden floor. It was already soaked in blood—very likely the blood of your accompanying guards and coachman.

“W-Who are you?!” you trembled violently, the tall figure stalking towards you as you pressed yourself into the furthest corner of the carriage. “I-I’ve already been tried!”

“As if a mere banishment could appease me for the crime you’ve committed against Saintess Kafka.”

That rough voice was accompanied by a pair of blood-red eyes, and you froze once more.

The Duke of the North. A monster of a man—if he could even be called a man at all—known for both his exploits in war and his horrifyingly violent disposition.

Archduke Blade.

Surely, the Aeons must despise you, have some vendetta against you. Why else would they send this monster of a man as your executioner?

Was it because you failed to live virtuously in any capacity? Was it because, in their all-seeing eyes, the harm that befell their pious daughter was in some way indirectly your fault?

You clasped your hands together, tears springing to your eyes. He was blocking the only exit. You had no way of escape. Your heart raced, and you began to sob.

“Please, Your Grace! You have to listen! I-It wasn’t me! Please, p-please spare my life!”

His expression was cruel. There was no sympathy to be had anywhere.

“I can’t believe you have the gall to beg. You deserve this. All of this.”

Sharp, white-hot pain stabbed through you. You blinked away your tears, realizing in the final moment you had left that the legendary sword of the Duke of the North had pierced your heart.

Those crimson eyes were the last thing you ever saw in this life.

I just… want to go back…

And then, everything went black.

—

“...dy Y/N?”

You groaned, raising a hand to your forehead. The sun was too bright…

“Lady Y/N, you must wake up...”

Wait, sun?!

You shot up in bed, shocking your maid greatly. “Lady Y/N!”

A hand flew to your chest, right over your heart, feeling for a wound, a hole of some sort where the Archduke’s sword had cut you down. To your complete shock, you found nothing.

“Lady Y/N…? Are you all right?” Your maid looked upon you kindly, placing a hand to your forehead. “You’re quite pale!”

You ignored her, continuing to press. There wasn’t even a hint of pain at the site of your stabbing.

“What happened… to the Archduke? Where is he…?” you mumbled aloud, wincing as a thick haze covered your thoughts. How were you alive?

“The Archduke, my lady?” your maid was baffled, wetting a cloth in a basin as she gently pressed it to your cheeks. The warm water felt good on your clammy skin. “What in the world would you have to do with a man such as him? Last I heard, he’s been taking care of bandits in the North.”

“Bandits…” You recalled that, several years ago, troupes of bandits were rampant along the northern border. The Archduke was sent to subdue them, and ever since then, bandits hadn’t been reported—or at least, they weren’t prevalent enough for high society’s gossip to take an interest…

You nearly fell out of bed, if it weren’t for your maid catching you.

“My lady!”

“Cecilia…” your mouth went dry, staring into her eyes. You recalled at last those same eyes full of tears, begging for mercy on your behalf, only to be carted away as an accomplice… The only one who had done such a thing for you.

“What year is it?”

“It’s Stellar Year X90, my lady… Your debutante is in just three months.”

That was—that was ten whole years ago!

Your debutante?!

“It’s breakfast time, and you had a meeting with the dressmaker regarding your debutante dress, as well as your dress for the Imperial Banquet…” Cecilia explained warily. The strained expression on your face worried her, assuming the worst, that you might start throwing your belongings again. “And you need to find a partner…”

Your mind was racing.

You’d gone back. Back into the past.

“Cecilia, can you leave me alone for a moment?” you murmured, resting your head in your hand. “I… need to wake up.”

The raven-haired woman seemed taken aback at your calm demeanor, stepping back with a slightly shocked nod.

“I’ll… leave you be to wake up, Lady Y/N. Please ring the bell if you need anything.”

“Yes… Thank you.”

Your maid left, but not without one final glance at you in the large, lavish space you called your bedroom.

You sat on your bed, dumbfounded. Briefly, you raised a hand to your arm, pinching lightly.

“Ouch.”

It wasn’t a dream. Somehow, in some way, you have returned to the past.

At this point in time, your reputation in the eyes of high society was already quite low. However, that was only because of rumors that spread from within your house—you hadn’t yet made a fool of yourself publicly.

“Three months until my debutante, huh…”

Your mind raced, but one thing was certain.

With this chance granted by the Aeons, you would fix everything that befell you.

You would stop treating those around you with such unfounded vitriol and cruelty. You would gather people to your side, find your place in society, and ensure your standing was secure.

You would find out who really did plot to poison Saintess Kafka, hopefully before they could even get the chance. And you would ensure that your image in the eyes of the nobles was no longer that of a foolish, childish, selfish silver-spooned lady.

You would alter the future, for yourself and for all those who suffered from your actions.

This time… you’d make it right.

[multifandombullshitbabes]

Random Merlin Rewatch: Where a random number generator gives me a season and an episode from BBC Merlin; and then I comment on it as I go.

Today's episode: Season 1 Episode 5 - Lancelot

Before I start, I have to comment that it's quite the fucking coincidence that, even though I'm randomizing the seasons and episodes separately, I've landed an episode right before out last edition of these Random Merlin Rewatch posts. Maybe these generators just really like the early seasons BBC Merlin. Can't blame 'em.

Can't wait to see my boy Lancelot again.

Those mushrooms Merlin is picking look fucking delicious, damn.

Can you imagine you're just chilling, picking mushrooms, and then you look up and there's a huge ass 4 legged bird looking creature just straight up coming straight at you? Jesus fuck. Merlin, my son, you CANNOT catch a break, it's almost impressive.

LANCELOT SCREAMING LMAO

Colin sometimes made the funniest of faces. Merlin looked about to literally shit himself and it made me crack up.

It truly is actually so sweet and brave for Lancelot to just. Do that. Like he just wanted to save Merlin, no questions, no nothing, he's just a good man.

MUSICCCCCCC LET'S GOOOOO

What a horrifying thought that a creature that can fly and takes human might just. Come by where you live. And you just gotta be prepared. Fucking Christ that's scary.

Merlin looks so gorgeous with the light just shining on him like that. Long pretty eyelashes, bright blue eyes, red lips. Motherfucker looks fuckable I can tell you that much.

"The great Arthur" what an interesting thing for Merlin to say, to refer to Arthur like that. Is that what he hears about Arthur? Especially when it comes to his fighting?? That's so funny. Wonder how Arthur feels about that; pride or need to meet up to expectations. Knowing him, probably both.

Gotta say, I love the fashion sense of this random lady here. Simply gorgeous.

Jesus he's so dramatic.

What the fuck is this man doing, just flinging both of his swords around, what the fuck.

Merlin just immediately resorting to lying. Why does he think that resolves everything when it literally never does??

Merlin shaking his head and Lancelot's just. immediate disappointment is so funny to me for some reason. He's just "Yeah, I figured, fuck me, oh well, might as well kill myself-"

LANCELOT IS SO DORKY I LOVE HIM!!!!

Did Uther just straight up create Camelot? I think he did. The first code came because of Uther wanting knights that he could trust, those who had allegiance with him, the nobility. And that's where the first code came from. Uther straight up created Camelot? From scratch? I always assumed he'd inherit from his father, but honestly, the fact that he made Camelot as great as she is by himself makes sense: that's why he never wants it to change unless it's by his own accord, not only because he's King, but because this kingdom is purely his.

Love Lancelot's little leather bracelets: a big thick one on his right arm, and a bunch of thin ones on his left. It's really cute how humans just like to make themselves look prettier or cooler or whatever with anything they've got.

"My father, my mother" implying Lancelot's an only child, since he doesn't mention any siblings dying at the raid.

Love how attached Merlin becomes of Lancelot. I think it's because Merlin can just see, plainly, that Lancelot is a good man. No hidden bullshit about, he's a good person. He knows Lancelot would make an amazing knight, probably better than the assholes he suffers while following Arthur around. That's why he fights so hard to give him what he deserves.

"Homework." yeah, 'cause your famously enrolled in a school, aren't you Merlin?

Merlin literally cannot be fucking subtle to save his life. Everybody just knows he's up in some shenanigan or other.

It's the way that Merlin is doing this almost with the intent of them finding Lancelot out, but much later on, when he's already proven worthy of his role, etc etc. However, Lancelot is right, you can't lie like that and then be a knight, so he knows that if he's found out, they'll kick him out. You have Merlin who knows the rules have to change, not just for his friend but just in general 'cause it's unfair, and then you have Lancelot that knows that it's not a good idea, and they'll be found out, but damn it it's literally what he's been working towards his whole life and, really, Merlin isn't wrong, is he? So even though he knows it won't end well, he'd rather take this little bit than nothing at all.

OUGH GWEN'S HANDS JUST SOOOO CLOSE TO LANCELOT'S BITS MY BOY IS FLUSTERED AS FUCK

I'm not gonna lie, I would've died if I saw Gwen smiling at me on her knees. Jesus Christ, I feel flustered.

AHHHHHH THEY'RE FLIRTINGGGGGG

They're crushing HARD BRO.

"Best seamstress in Camelot." I don't even care if that's just Merlin exaggerating, this is now part of Gwen's character to me.

Lancelot is so awkward and dorky and then he has his smooth moments but it's just because he says what he means, he doesn't even know he's being smooth, please I love him.

AHAHAHAHAHAH ARTHUR SMACKING LANCELOT I FORGOT ABOUT THIS

The little sound Lancelot makes when he comes back from the stables. I'm fucking dead. That's me.

"And the truth before I lose my temper?" underrated Gaius line.

Arthur looks so slutty with that red shirt and red pendant combo.

We don't talk enough about how good the fight choreography can be in BBC Merlin. It looks so REAL, I don't know how else to describe it.

Jesus, Lancelot aimed to kill. Without a helmet, half of Arthur's head would've been cut off. Damn.

Arthur is so dramaticcccccccc

"You set him on a path of your choosing." This is so interesting. Mainly because, the point of saying that, Gaius means that Merlin played God and that he can't change destiny, he can't change everything. Well..... doesn't Kilgarrah literally tell Merlin the exact opposite? In the sense that he always tells Merlin that he's the one who needs to choose the outcome of others, like whether they live or die, which is literally playing God. Doesn't he expect Merlin to shape his own destiny but also the destiny of Arthur and of others, something that never works out and cannot be changed? Yet he always made it seem like he could change the outcome? I'm saying this just with a pit in my stomach that, unknowingly or not, Kilgarrah set Merlin up for a failed task, in the sense that, in him trying to play God and force everybody's destinies, he doomed them all. And I just don't know if Kilgarrah didn't think about that or just didn't care and just placed his bets. He put it all on Merlin, and it ruined everything. Kilgarrah really is the one who killed Arthur, not Mordred, not Morgana, not Merlin. I hope I worded this well.

Interesting that Morgana is wearing the same dress as the first episode, but also a high ponytail, which I can't remember any other time she did.

Oh jesus, it's so weird that Morgana and Arthur are looking at each other like that. I do get it, the king's ward I think would have the expectation of marrying the prince, but it's just sick that Uther just let that grow, knowing what he knows. People would talk about them two. He's hear them. And he'd just what, say "Perhaps they will marry."? Ew, bro.

Not Gwen just heavily hinting that her type is Merlin. But also, are you about that? Considering: Arthur? 'Cause girl, you love that man. (and also Morgana, but it's not canon or whateverrr). Anyways, Gwen's type is: heart of gold. Now, is that heart obscured by anything? Like some defensive and prickly walls? Maybe. But it's still there.

Merlin and Gwen having girl talkkkkkkkkkk

Merlin and Lancelot at the VERY VERY least cuddled on that tiny little bed, didn't they? (they snogged too, but shhhh)

Well, that was short lived.

Lancelot is stronger than me, I would've started sobbing. Not even to get away for the crime, I'd just be so embarrassed and distraught, bro.

Oh, the fact that Arthur called Uther "Sire", ohhhh he wants to get on his good graces so bad to maybe save Lancelot.

"How can you trust a man who's lied to you?" by understanding any layers of his decision. By understanding why he did it. And only then can you make a true and complete judgement of his lie.

Lancelot is just. A good person. To a fault, I imagine, I personally think he's not truly always present, like in the moment, always either thinking of the past or future or just living day by day, unaware of really anything. It makes him a bit idealistic, but also quick to be realistic/pessimistic once he's brought back down to earth. He hasn't had a home since childhood so he never feels like he belongs anywhere. It's why it's so easy for him to leave. And while he never expects anything from anyone, he craves it so much; but once he receives it, he'll take any indication he doesn't deserve it and accept without question and just move on to the next. He doesn't think he's worth fighting for, so he doesn't advocate for himself. But he'll always advocate for others, if he has them. It's what he would want other's to do for him.

The fact that things only recorded in myth or legend are just. Walking about. Chilling.

I wonder how Bradley trained for the "ON ME!" screams he does. They're immaculate, but I bet training for it must be so fucking goofy.

It's a stunning creature, though, ngl.

It's the way that Arthur is, canonically, only 20 years old right now. He turns 21 in ep 9. He's literally my age. Jesus fucking Christ.

Well finally the guards are good for something.

One thing I'll always appreciate about Bradley's acting? He WILL look like he's exerting himself. His cheeks will be puffed out, he is inhaling and exhaling, he is pursing his lips in concentration, he is doing the WORK.

Uther is so fucking stubborn. How terrifying it must be for Arthur to know that in an hour or two, him and his knights are marching to what is, most likely, their deaths? He KNOWS they're weapons are useless. And yet he can't defy his king, his father. How fucking scary it must be to be the prince and to just have to maybe die for your father, the king? What the fuck??

Oh the things Gaius says about Merlin :((( they care about each other so much.

Oh yes, Arthur, we know YOU need Lancelot, you've looked down at his exposed hair chest twice now.

What a homoerotic charged scene. They need to bang at least once. Don't know if it would resolve anything, but at least it'd get them off.

Gaius trying to be so supportive, ough.

Gwen's father is still alive, do they not live together? Lancelot just barged in and there's no Tom in sight. Does he sleep at the forge? Actually. He just might.

Oh the music is GORGEOUS, hello???

Love how Gwen went straight to Merlin, she knows he'll do something about it. She doesn't know what to do, but she knows Merlin will at least try something. I feel like it's moments like these where it shows thar Gwen just always knew that somehow Merlin would solve things, and where she starts to suspect Merlin is truly very special. Maybe not "he has magic", not right away, but that there's just something about him.

Lancelot literally looks like the coolest knight ever bro. Most knight knight to ever knight.

Props to Lancelot for not freaking the fuck out when his lance just starts fucking glowing out of nowhere. I guess he's busy looking eye to eye with the griffin.

OUGHHH THE BOYS ARE SO CUTE, THEY'RE SO HAPPY IT ALL WORKED OUT!!! LOOK AT MERLIN GEEKING OUT I LOVE IT!! AND LANCELOT JUST LOOKS SO STARSTRUCK

AHHHHH ARTHUR JUST SO EXCITED FOR LANCELOT!!! The way he said his name so softly, ough...... He's not gonna stop thinking about Lancelot for a LONG time, huh.

Oh, I love when the episode has so many happy moments like these :))) tugs at my heartstrings in the best way.

"I see you feel strongly about this Arthur." I just know Uther knows about Arthur's bisexuality bro, ain't no way.

It's the way that Merlin and Arthur just. share so many views in common. Makes me bonkers. I wonder how many amazing discussion they could've had if they ever felt truly comfortable in talking about such sensitive topics, and with Merlin hiding so much of who he is.

Uther watching Lancelot leave knowing he's literally all a knight is supposed to be. But then, it's not as easy to command them when they have such set morals. He knows Lancelot stands for what is right and THAT is a problem: he needs knights that stand for Uther, not for what is right. But he can recognize that Lancelot is a worthy man of it.

Also Arthur's heartbroken face. Yeah, Lancelot is gonna live rent free in his mind for a while. He'll never admit it though. Duh.

Oh Morgana speaks to Gwen so softly. The way she says her name??? Jesus fuck.

It's the way that they let him have a Pendragon red cloak at also armor? Hello???? That's a full knight riding out of Camelot bro. Now I'm thinking of the hilarious concept that Gwen was looking at the wrong guy-

Not Morgana doing an Arthur when she gets jealous: make Gwen take her mind off of things with work. She says it much kinder because that's just what Gwen deserves, but it's the same technique. Don't think about that other person, go do something for me instead.

And done!!! Fuck yeah brother

[flowersofjannah]

Brothers & sisters please keep me and my husband in your dua. My mother in law is doing sihr to distance my husband from me and created hatred in his heart. He’s not the same anymore and it feels like everything is going towards divorce. I’m trying my best to save my marriage and crying to Allah but I feel so scared and anxious.

Jazak’Allah Khayr for reading this

Assalamu 'alaykum sister,

oh this is horrible, may Allah help the both of you and protect you both. Ameen. I know of someone who went through the same, unfortunately, it seems like this is a somewhat common thing. Mother's who are way too attached to their sons can resort to such evil things, may Allah protect us, ameen.

I know you did not ask for advice but I would like to give my two cents, if you do not mind.

But first thing is, are you sure your statement is true? A lot of times we defer our issues to black magic or evil eye but it could be own our sins or haram rizq, etc.

Please don't go to those people who say that they can find out if you have been a victim of black magic and they can even tell you who done it, they are bogus people doing absolutely haram!

If you have any amulets/taweez in your house, discard of them in the proper way. If you have photos with people in it hanging up in your house, take them down. Do ruqyah daily, have Surah Baqarah recited in the home daily. If you have any haram rizq coming in, do away with it , and look for halal. Both of you need to recite the 3 Quls 3 times each, blow in your hands, and wipe all over yourself, needs to be done morning and evening (fajr & maghrib) daily. This is an authentic hadith to deal with sihr (I can share the hadith if you would like for me to).

Consult a knowledgeable religious leader who looks for authenticity in their learning.

Be open with your spouse, if they don't know what's going on or what you feel is going on, you are doing a big disservice to your marriage. You can tell your husband your suspicions and why you suspect it. You both, together, will need to limit your interaction with your MIL greatly. Do not allow her in your homes, limit to talking to her only on the phones. Keep trusting Allah. And please, do not say you know it is your MIL, unless you have proof, because if she isn't, she will have quite a case against you on the Day of Judgment. To your husband, you can say that you suspect it as I mentioned before.

May Allah help you both overcome the issues in your marriage and put barakah, protection, and love in your marriage. May Allah remove any sihr or effects of evil eyes on your marriage and safeguard the both of you from it. May Allah grant you both a marriage full of peace and goodness, ameen ya rabb.

Lastly, (I am not saying to let go as a first resort, but a last resort): If you have children especially, if your husband is not complying to the treatments, and you think it's time to let go, trust your instincts after making dua for Allah to guide you. The lady I know who went through this is still in her marriage, it's been about 20 years since the chaos started, her husband hates her and disrespects her greatly. The children have been badly affected by this, they resent their mother a bit for staying in the marriage and have a minimal relationship with their father. When I go to her home, it's a strange and depressing aura, I dislike being there. I even suggested her kids to tell their parents to change houses because she found weird stuff in the house after her MIL and SIL came to visit, and in case there were more things she had not found yet, but the husband wouldn't agree unfortunately. So that might also be something you can look into. She still has hope for husband to change and that is why she is still staying but genuinely, no one agrees with her choice, not her kids, not even me, 20 years of all your husband doing is hating and disrespecting you, not giving your rights, and treating your children terribly? Additionally, he doesn't pray salah and says he is angry with Allah for taking his mother (she passed away). If this lady were not a mother and she wants to stay in hopes of things getting better, okay sure, I personally still don't agree with it but at the end of the day, it is her choice. But if your children are involved, I don't think one should stay for so long where your children are being emotionally and mentally tortured. I personally don't agree with it, may Allah forgive me if I am wrong. No judgment to her, her situation is very difficult, but I bring this up as an example to you that sometimes it's best to let go and move on, especially if kids are involved. Again, please note, I am not saying this as a first resort, please do give your best to your marriage, and give it time, it can take years to heal. But reconsider if you should stay if it's greatly affecting you and your children (if you have children) after all of the efforts put in, especially especially if your husband is not complying to the treatments.

May Allah help and protect you both, ameen. Take care my sister and keep your trust in Allah. 💗

[delimeful]

you can’t go back (4)

warnings: mentioned child neglect/bad parenting, mentioned awkward saucy teen flirting, arguing, emotional upset, the dubious ethics of over-excited teenagers

-

Roman had been acting strange, lately.

It was perhaps a harsh thing to think about his friend, especially considering he was bound to behave differently when the recent disappearance of his twin was taken into account, but it was also true.

Logan had known Roman for years, long enough that it was an effort to search back through his memories for a point that they hadn’t been together, if perhaps not always in the most amicable of circumstances. They’d gone through the entire gamut of enemies-frenemies-rivals-friends, and Logan liked to think that he had a fair grasp on Roman’s tells by this point.

All of Roman’s tells were currently telling him that the other student was trying to hide something, something big.

It wasn’t just the way that he had stopped sulking whenever something happened that reminded him of his missing brother, or that he was suddenly scrawling what almost seemed like notes in a glitter-covered notebook when he hadn’t had the inspiration to work on anything creative in weeks, or that he had all but given up on the pretense of paying attention in their shared classes.

No, the real sign that something was wrong was the way that Roman had begun to outright neglect his two closest friends.

Logan was hardly affected, of course. He was above the base emotions that so many of his peers were constantly fraught with, and less time with Roman gushing in his ear about whatever had caught his interest or complaining dramatically about those who had wronged him meant more time for Logan to focus on what was important, like his AP classes and many, many extracurriculars.

Of course, that didn’t explain why he was currently trailing after Roman on his walk home, when he really should be at violin practice. No matter how much of a soft spot the teacher had for him, he’d gained his skill through hard work, not skipping practice. Certainly not skipping practice to hound off after his erstwhile classmate.

However, he wasn’t the only one being abandoned in this scenario.

Logan Croft had been forced to sit at a lunch table with an increasingly secretive and distant Roman, and a mournful, kicked-puppy version of Patton Hertz, the most cheerful guy in their grade, if not the entire school.

Roman, stuck in his own thoughts as he clearly was, seemed to not notice the effect his lacking presence had had on Patton, and Logan was just about fed up of watching the slow decay of the half life of their little group.

The secrecy was ridiculous. They’d been there when Roman had been so worked up about the ‘police coverup’ that he’d actually considered trying to break into a government building, they could certainly be here for whatever it was that had him so bizarrely clammed up now!

Logan paused from a distance and watched as Roman hurried in through the front door of his house, counting backwards in his head. It would be a fair challenge to try and break into Roman’s room, particularly with Roman in the house, but if his deductions about the seeds constantly caught on his friend’s pant legs and the odd-colored mud left on the soles of his favorite tennis shoes were correct… There!

Sure enough, only a few moments later, Roman was pushing out through the back door, taking an unusually careful moment to close the screen door behind him before turning and walking determinedly down the path into the rural wilderness that made up half of the grounds his family’s farm sat on.

Logan waited until there was little chance that Roman would double back for something he’d forgotten, and then strode confidently up to the front door, rapping on it twice. Going by the fact that there was a car in the driveway and the door had been unlocked when Roman had gotten home from school, someone else was home to answer.

Mrs. Torres opened the door, looking surprised at the sight of him for a moment, before breaking out into a warm smile. “Logan! It’s so good to see you, are you here for Roman?”

“I’ve been meaning to meet up with him for a project, but he left school before me, so I came here,” Logan said, not above lying through omission to uncover the truth. “Is he home?”

“Oh, he just got back, but I don’t think he’s inside-- ROMAN!” she turned towards the stairs and called up them, frowning when there was no response. “He must be out in the yard again. Come in, come in!”

Logan stepped inside smugly, glancing around. The interior was much the same as the last time he’d been here. If it hadn’t been for the pile of faded missing posters under a mug on the counter and his own prior knowledge of the situation, Logan would have been hard-pressed to guess that this was the home of a recently-vanished child.

“Honestly, I’m just glad he’s not staying cooped up in his room anymore,” Mrs. Torres was saying. The woman speaking casually in front of him only added to the eerie composure of the home, and Logan made his way through the general pleasantries and politely refused any refreshments with an unpleasant feeling in his gut.

“They didn’t even bother printing out new missing posters this time,” he remembered Roman telling them with a quiet, bitter sort of anger. “He dyed his hair, and they won’t even pay to put a recent picture of him up when it could be the difference between someone recognizing him or not!”

On a logical level, Logan can understand something concerning happening over and over, repetition dulling it’s effects until it feels mundane or everyday. Roman has mentioned before how his parents believed that Remus was simply acting out for attention, mostly while thanking Roman for being above that, as though the metaphorical ‘good twin’ wasn’t currently building a career on literally acting for an audience's attention.

What Logan can’t understand is that Remus’s parents are apparently completely uninterested in finding out why Remus is so desperate for attention that he would resort to a maneuver he knows will only get him negative consequences.

Logan himself would certainly like to understand. All queries on the matter had garnered only uncomfortable evasion from Roman, as though his friend might have had an idea but wouldn’t say, likely due to irritating personal feelings that Logan couldn’t parse.

So, he’d reached out to Remus directly, on one of the few days that he’d actually attended classes.

The delinquent had been visibly confused by his approach-- the twins allegedly hadn’t had a mutual friend since the beginning of grade school-- and resistant to Logan’s questioning, which Patton had later informed him was likely far too blunt for the situation. They’d gone in circles for a bit, Remus making outlandish or confusing metaphors while Logan refused to rise to the bait, and then he’d made a simple observation about the hypocrisy of the twins’ parents, and Remus had stared at him with an odd tilt to his head for a moment.

Shortly after, he had made a very confusing comment about something that was anatomically impossible, and when Logan had enquired further, Remus had then hared off with pink cheeks and ditched school for a week. He’d asked Roman about the situation, but his friend had only covered his ears with an agonized look on his face, utterly refusing to explain.

Logan shook the errant thought away, and the odd pang of something like regret that Remus had vanished before he could follow up on the interesting interaction.

He turned his gaze away from the unharried setting. The odd dynamic between the Torres family was not what he was here to investigate, not even remotely.

There was only one Torres he was investigating right now, and he had a strong suspicion that his odd behavior had less to do with family than one might expect.

“Go on ahead, I’m sure he’ll hear you once you get out back,” Mrs. Torres encouraged, picking up a particularly irritated-looking calico cat. “Just have to make sure Lady Macbeth doesn’t escape and disturb your little session. Roman’s been worried about coyotes, so we’ve been keeping her inside.”

Logan nodded, though privately he was a little surprised. Coyotes? He hadn’t thought they would be so bold as to lurk at a farm this close to urban areas. Perhaps there had been sightings near here?

He pushed past the creaky screen door with a striking sense of familiarity, despite the fact that it had been quite a while since the three of them had gone wandering together in the foliage and dirt of the Torres farm. Patton’s allergies could be quite fierce, after all.

As expected, walking into the backyard revealed no signs of Roman, even when Logan cleared his throat and called out. He knew his friend well enough to know that he would have reacted audibly to his unexpected presence, so the only logical conclusion was that he wasn’t nearby.

Clearly, it was time to check the perimeter.

He walked in a careful, orderly line next to the old wooden fence, eyeing the peeling paint and refraining from setting his hand on it. He had more to worry about than potential splinters, such as keeping an eye out for any potential strangeness that could explain Roman’s behavior.

There was little to be found in the brush except a regrettable amount of sandburs catching along the hem of his pants, so when he spotted the barn, he felt a surge of excitement.

And if he indulged in a little bit of sneaking, hoping to catch his quarry unaware, that was his business. Roman was loud enough that he could hear him ranting a good few meters from the barn, anyhow.

He managed to make it all the way to the edge of the barn wall before the rant abruptly cut off, and he stalked forwards hurriedly, pushing the door open before Roman could hide anything incriminating.

He needn’t have worried: the evidence was standing there in the middle of the barn, strapped to a support rafter.

It also wasn’t human.

“What are you doing here?” Roman shrilled, taking a quick step to be in front of the creature. It was an ineffective method of hiding it, seeing as what appeared to be long, spider-like limbs were extending in the air a good few meters in either direction behind him.

Logan had known about Roman’s theory, the one that had been laughed right out of the police station. He’d walked with Roman and scoured the fields for any sign of what Remus had mentioned, though they hadn’t found anything. He knew his friend still believed that his twin’s disappearance had been unnatural, extraterrestrial.

Knowing was quite different from seeing an entire alien right in front of oneself.

Roman was still talking, in that nervous chattering tone that he always took on when he was working himself into a truly incomprehensible explanation, but Logan could hardly be asked to divide his attention at the moment.

Extra anterior eyes, odd shiny patches along the sides of the neck, exterior hinges along the jaw, organic plating that had visibly darkened since his first glance-- there was so much that he needed to understand the purpose of, so many questions he had about their origins. How close by was other life? Which star had they hailed from? How had they gotten here?

He was moving forwards without a second thought, enthralled by the way the legs rose up-- like a bird mantling their wings, and they appeared smooth, not hairy as an actual spider’s would be.

��Incredible,” he breathed, and then there was a hand fisted in the back of his polo and he was being yanked away. Where he’d just stood, all four of the strange limbs stabbed into the ground, their reach longer and their ends sharper than he’d anticipated.

There must have been an extra joint closer to their back, the flexible kind that would allow for such an extension. He itched to circle around and look for himself, to confirm his hypothesis before the limbs retracted, but Roman was still clinging to him like a shrieking barnacle.

“What did I just say?!” he demanded, gearing up for a scolding. “It’s not friendly! Do you want to get stabbed into next week?”

“How long have you been keeping an actual alien life form from the world at large? From scientists at large? From me?” Logan shot back, shaking Roman’s grip loose. “Have you had them strapped upright this entire time? Can they talk? How did this even happen?”

Even as he demanded an explanation, his gaze was drawn back over to the alien, taking in their every twitch with endless curiosity. He wanted to know how to read each motion, from the downturn of their chin to the scrunching of their smaller eyes to the way the flat plates where a mouth should be had seemed to twitch. He wanted to know everything.

“It’s been like a week, I didn’t strap them up they came like that, either they don’t speak English or they’re a really good actor, and they showed up in my barn after Remus was abducted, you do the math!” Roman rushed out, edging closer as though he thought Logan was about to try and get closer to the alien again. “And I didn’t tell you because I knew you would do this!”

“This is hardly the first time I’ve almost been stabbed in the pursuit of science,” Logan retorted, annoyed at the presumption that he wouldn’t risk his life for his goals.

“It’s only a little bit about the near-stabbing!” Roman’s voice cracked, and Logan finally pulled the other half of his attention away from the alien to stare. “This is my only lead on my brother, and you’re going to want to-- to-- to put it in a laboratory or National Geographic Magazine or something!”

“I’d be far more likely to write a thesis paper on the matter,” Logan corrected helpfully. Roman’s hands twitched, the body language possibly indicating that he was barely restraining himself from trying to throttle Logan.

“Whatever! The point is, this isn’t a science experiment to me!” His rival’s face was crumpling slightly at the edges. “You can’t just-- just use the alien I found as a ticket to get into some esteemed college while Remus is left to rot in the far reaches of outer space!”

To Logan’s horror, Roman’s eyes had become suspiciously shiny. He floundered for a moment, wishing Patton was there to smooth things over as he so often did, before firming his shoulders and lifting his chin. He could at least try to explain, and hope it didn’t turn out too badly.

“I’m not going to ‘leave Remus to rot,’” Logan started, remembering the recycled missing posters stacked up on the counter. “If you believe that this alien is key to finding out what happened to him, then that should be-- well, our first priority should always be furthering the advancement of human understanding, especially with a discovery as big as this, but I am an accomplished multitasker, so we can do that while we attempt to locate and recover Remus.”

Roman’s shoulders slowly loosened from their frustrated hunch. “You’re going to help me? Seriously?”

“Do you really think I’d joke?” Logan replied, gesturing to his tie. “The more information we compile on this specimen, the better we’ll understand them, and the closer we’ll be to understanding the motives behind Remus’s abduction.”

“And you aren’t going to tell anyone?” Roman asked, looking more hopeful by the moment.

“Why would I? I work more effectively on projects on my own,” Logan answered, the same sentence that had sparked a loud argument between him and Roman in the middle of Biology two years ago. This time, however, Roman looked excited rather than offended at the response. “We really should figure out something to tell Patton, though.”

“That’s… a good idea,” Roman admitted sheepishly. “There’s no way we can let him around an unknown alien fiend, especially not one so… spider-y. You almost got stabbed, imagine what it might do to poor Patton!”

“You handle our story,” Logan decided, turning to look back at the alien fully. “I’ll see what we can do about those extra limbs. We won’t be able to do any sort of up-close analysis with a constant threat hovering over us.”

He straightened his tie, studying the way the extra limbs in question were vibrating just slightly in the air, drawn in significantly closer to the alien's body than they had been before. Despite the movement of the legs, the alien themself was still as stone, all of their attention locked on Logan.

Through observation and experimentation, he was sure that each little motion of theirs would soon become as readable to him as everyday human body language, and from there, real communication would be in reach.

Communication with an extraterrestrial... This would truly be a project like no other.

Fueled by a thrill of excitement, Logan couldn't help but smile.

[spaceschild]

Alien Junky (Part 1???)

The Alien pushed me to the room with a laser pointer to my back. A laser pointer. Can you believe that? 

They kept pushing me, until a door slid open, with a “Access Granted,” a voice that sounded like the self check out lady at your local Walmart. It took me everything not to laugh, until my eyes laid upon the stockpile of junk in the room. All of this was once earth’s trash, being sent to space as a last resort for our mother earth. 

“Holy Macaroni...How’d you guys even get all this stuff?! I know this kinda stuff sells good in Vespaire...But..There’s such thing as too much stuff here guys...What’s up with that?” 

“We will be doing the talking, Human astronaut. In return for your rescue, you will tell us EXACTLY what every item that stands before you is called. You will write it down, and if you can, you will price it, and sell it on Vespaire. If you do not comply-” 

“Sure.” 

“What?-You are going to blindly agree?”

“Sure why not? I’ve got nothing else to lose, I mean really. My entire crew left me in space to save their own skins. I mean..Friendship? Teamwork? Yeah not really feelin’ it. So let’s get to work!!!” I took the journal and the pen and began looking in the pile, sorting through what would be most expensive.

They watched me, in awe, in the same awe that humanity looked at them. My hand was cramping, until I picked up something quite familiar. 

“Guys...Where did you get a singular pistachio?” I grinned in wonder, holding up an uncracked pistachio between my thumbs.

“How much is it worth?” The alien asked. I stared at it, now looking at my savior’s features. They weren’t anything we were told. They looked sorta like that i guess, but with scales, and they wore clothes only louis-Vuitton could dream of making. Each sparkled in the light, leaving my mind half blank, in awe of the beautiful beings standing right in front of me. I was snapped back to reality by a small, yet cliché “Ahem,” from one of the guys watching me work.

“Right..This is worth diddle squat. Not worth anything. Now this tire on the left...Or this necklace. I’m not even sure how you found something like this anyways- but anyways, these things, (like the necklace especially) is worth a good fortune on Vespaire..That’s kinda the thieves den isn’t it? I mean, not like I know anything about it...But I’m just askin’. Know what I mean?” I rubbed the back of my neck, glancing at the crew occasionally as I pick out the most expensive items in the pile.

“We thank you, Human....”

“Human Earle. Just call me that. So off to sell this stuff yeah? I got the most expensive stuff for the pawnbroker..the other stuff goes to the mechanic. Just drop me off at Earth. I’ve gotta tell ya guys,” I got up, dusting myself off, offering a hand shake to the tallest one. “I’ve had a lot of fun here. A shame I’m leavin so soon.” 

The tallest offered only a devilish grin to return my handshake, bearing his long and black fangs. It sent shivers down my spine. I stepped back, my eyes going wider as he began to speak.

“You see..We are not done with you yet, Human Earle. You are one of us now. You did say, you had nothing to lose, so think of what you have to gain. A crew, riches beyond your comprehension, and much more. All it takes is a simple affirmation.” His hands ran over a mechanic’s coat, fitting a woman it seemed. It was tye-dyed. I was gonna look like I was from the 1980s, die, or look like i time traveled just to die. 

“What choice do I have? Seems like im facin the walk of shame, or I work for what seems to be a bunch of petty thieves. I’ll take it.” I grabbed the outfit, my heart thumping in my chest. This new beginning sounded a lot like my end..

[renjunbae]

resurface; kim jungwoo.

synopsis : all you had wanted was a quiet summer by the beach to relax, escape the oppressiveness of the city, and get your mind off of your last disastrous relationship, but apparently peace was hard to come by, especially when a figure from your past reappears unexpectedly in your life.

pairing : kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre : beach resort au, university au, romance, fluff

warnings : (very) mild profanities

length : 7.1k

soundtrack : let me drown - deanz ft. andy delos santos; u n eye - boy in space; sun goes down - aiyo

author's note : this is part of the ot23 "resonance beach" collab hosted by @amorajae. thank you so much for letting me participate & go check out the collab masterlist for more addicting summer reads!

Socializing had never been so suffocatingly painful and pretentious.

Clinking champagne glasses, aimless mingling and a forever unending charade of polite smiles that never quite reached one’s eye, they surrounded you like a shroud that made it hard to breathe, a shirt that was too tight and biting uncomfortably at the neck. Much like the very dress you were wearing at the moment; form-fitting, over-the-top fancy, and narrow in all the spots you hated.

Oh, how you wished to change out of it all. Rip off the structured binds around your entire being, take off and away from the repetitive scene that had become more frequent over the past weeks and the main cause of your headaches. But there was nothing you could do about it except stare uselessly at the clock as its hands ticked by at an excruciatingly slow pace, and you hated that fact more than anything else.

“Well then, it has been lovely to meet you, Miss (Y/N). I can see that your parents have done an excellent job raising such an elegant and well-mannered young lady.” The concluding words, along with an outstretched hand, snapped you out of your misery and forced your attention back to the middle-aged man before you. Already, you were struggling to recall his name from the brief—or was it excruciatingly long?—introduction he’d done when he sought to strike a conversation with you twenty minutes earlier. Was he a superior of your father’s? Or maybe a recent acquaintance of your mother’s? You didn’t know, nor cared, really. After two hours of entertaining your parent’s countless associates with answers to their onslaught of questions about which college you attended and other various aspects of your personal life, you no longer had much energy left to spare for further pretense.

For the entirety of the exchange, you’d somehow gotten by with absentminded nods and murmured agreements. Thankfully, your latest companion was too immersed in his tales to notice your drifting focus and lack of interest, at which you almost heaved a sigh of relief. If your parents had received word of your misbehavior, you’d be a goner for sure, and you certainly were not looking forward to another round of their droning lecture about mannerism, etiquette, and public image.

“It was nice meeting you too,” you managed to return with a smile that was just about passable for being semi-enthusiastic, though inside, you were cringing hard at your poor attempts of keeping up the graciously civilized front your mother had always insisted for you to display in public. Forget the crowded dinner parties, forget the fancy evening galas, with every passing minute you were closer to less than a hair’s breadth away from plopping down on the nearest sofa and calling it quits. But you retained your composure and made sure to wave politely as the man stepped away, only letting out a long-held breath after his figure had completely disappeared amidst the crowd.

The room was getting uncomfortably stuffy, and your desire to leave was ever growing as you struggled to get through the throng of chattering bodies for some space alone. Sure, you’d been at a number of clubs and parties with your friends, but they were always on the more laid back and easygoing side of the atmosphere spectrum. You didn’t have to put up a perfect front for others to examine, nor be pressured to uphold your entire family’s reputation. And you certainly wouldn’t be obliged to answer your mother’s calls from ten feet away, beckoning you over to no doubt meet another friend of hers.

It was all the same, over and over. Introductions, small talk, and then going into the personal life of the (L/N)s’ “all grown up” daughter.

“Neo Tech University? The top school in the area? How nice!”

Your father beamed proudly. “Of course, she’s my daughter, after all.”

The adults laughed. You didn’t join them, instead picking at the fabric of your gown until the conversation required your participation again.

“She’s matured so much, I bet she has all the boys at her heels already,” The lady commented, to which your mom immediately responded with a pleased smile and, “Of course, she’s got a boyfriend too. They’re soo cute together. Hey, honey, how come he hasn’t come around in a while?”

God, why? Why, of all things, did they have to bring this up? You felt your insides squeezing together painfully at the mention of the topic, your fists clenched so hard you could feel your fingernails digging into your skin. You’d thought this night couldn’t get any worse than it already was, but you were wrong, it just did. Their gazes were all set on you expectantly, and you hated the attention. Hated being the focus of the conversation and picked apart to the seams.

“We broke up,” you said eventually, avoiding your parents’ eyes.

Your mother's smile fell away to an expression of shock and disbelief. “Why? I thought you two were doing so well with each other.”

Yeah, we were, before he cheated on me, you were tempted to say. To firmly erase any of your mother’s misconceptions that she had even a single idea of what was going on in her daughter’s life. But you just shrugged nonchalantly, as if the breakup was only a trivial matter. If you’d told them the truth, your mother would’ve no doubt considered it a huge blow to her reputation.

“It’s alright, you’ll find someone else who’s worthy of you,” the lady patted your shoulder sympathetically, and you felt your face heat up in a mixture of humiliation and frustration. The last thing you needed was someone telling you that in public.

You figured this was a good time to leave, maybe dig a hole and bury yourself in it. Tonight had been a suitable enough reason. Murmuring a quick apology to the adults, you excused yourself and made your way toward the exit before your mother could intercept. People stared as you passed, but at this point, their hypercritical looks were the least of your concerns. If grown-up life was beyond the point of “childishness” and “selfish acts”, then you’d grown beyond the point of caring.

By the time you’d arrived home, it was already ten o’clock. You and your parents had left for the gala around six-thirty, which meant you’d spent at least a good three hours and a half at the venue, engaging in hollow, repetitive conversations with near strangers. It was exhausting, to say the least, and you found yourself craving a warm bath the moment you stepped through the door. But you had your priorities set straight, and after changing into some casual clothing, you made a beeline for the kitchen to make yourself a pot of ramen. You were practically starving after almost an entire night of strolling around and snacking only on lady-like portions of foreign delicacies at the event.

While the water boiled, you dialed your best friend’s number. She’d told you of her plans—or the lack thereof—this evening, consisting of nothing but binge watching anime and consuming an inhumane amount of triple chocolate fudge ice cream. That was basically an open invitation for you to call her whenever you felt like ranting about old men and how it just wasn’t fair no one else was obligated to chat for hours on end with them about stock market prices, and you accepted it gladly.

Yera picked up on the second ring. True to her word, you could hear the incoherent Japanese shouting of the characters in whatever anime she was binging at the moment.

“How did it go? The gala?”

Just the sound of her voice was enough to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. Your best friend always knew what to say and how to lift your spirits in times like this, no matter how blunt and straightforward she may be, and you were looking forward to her advice.

“Terrible,” you groaned. “Whoever came up with the idea of stuffing over two hundred boring, judgmental business people in a room far too bright and oxygen-lacking must’ve been out of their mind.”

You heard Yera snort from the other side of the line. “Yeah, no shit, sherlock. You know, I’d reassure you it’s not that bad, but I know it’s exactly that bad.”

You shifted your position so that you faced the kitchen window, where a view of the city’s nightscape unfolded before your eyes. The sky was dark, but thousands of glimmering lights made up for it—neon billboards, cars flying by on the busy streets below, office lightings, roadside lamps, and glowing patches of yellow from residential buildings like your own. You stared out at the sea of twinkling sparks, and for a moment, felt so very small amidst the immensely vast world.

“They mentioned him.”

There was only a beat of silence. Yera didn’t need long to catch onto who you were referring to.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, they were talking about boys and then my mom brought up the fact that I have a boyfriend—had, actually,” you sighed, an action you found occurring more often than not lately. “Guess I forgot to tell them he’s an ex now, but then again, they didn’t ask before.”

“Gosh, that must’ve been so awkward.”

“It was,” you shut your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose with your forefingers. “You tell me. I had to leave, right away. I’m just glad it’s over now.”

“Wait wait wait, hold on. How many of these event thingies have you gone to in the past week?”

“Three, not counting the time my mom had some friends over for lunch. They stayed until dinner, actually, and we had to go out and eat.”

“What the heck?? And you let them drag you along?”

“It’s my duty to accompany them, I guess. They’d be mad if I don’t go and let them show me off for a bit. But then again, there usually aren’t this many events. My dad just signed a contract with some important clients, and my mom’s been invited to a bunch of social gatherings, plus the fact that normally, I’d have school as an excuse. There’s just been more of them recently, and it’s not like I have any good enough reason to opt out.”

Yera gasped. “It’s summer. Summer!! That’s all they should need. It’s summer break right now and it’s your time off. They shouldn’t need any more reason than that. And whether it’s the norm or not, you have to know that you are in charge of yourself and that you get to decide what you do with your own life, not them.”

“You have a point, Yera, you always do, but...” you shook your head. “I honestly don’t know at this point. Things are easier said than done. I hate it all, but in a way, it’s part of my responsibility.”

“Okay, oookay. That’s it. No more dinner parties or rich people galas for you, (Y/N). It’s your time off and I’m going to make sure you take some time off. Aren’t you tired of them ordering you around? You’re the one who’s in control of your own life, (Y/N). Go have a nice vacation and stay away from adult business for at least a few weeks, or I’m not letting you anywhere near my mom’s homemade honeycomb brownies again, got it?”

If Yera was bringing her mother’s brownies into the deal, then you knew she was serious. Somehow, despite the situation, you almost felt like laughing. Felt like you were invincible, as if her words brought a surge of confidence along with it. Smiling up at the night sky, you said, “Well, I guess I have to do it for those brownies.”

“Good, now go on and take on the world!”

The world—or, namely, your parents—was clearly not amused when you dragged your suitcase into the living room at eight in the morning the next day, dressed in a flowery blouse, your favorite jean shorts, and a pair of heeled sandals. They’d been eating breakfast at the dining table just ten paces across as you entered, engrossed in a conversation about the latest commercial trends and news of the business world. They looked up at the sound of wheels against the marbled floor, an initial expression of shock crossing their faces as they took in your outfit and the luggage in your hands.

Your father looked almost bewildered as he glanced between you and your mother, who’s brows had deepened into a frown. She shook her head as if to clear away thoughts of disbelief, though you could detect the note of disapproval that was weaved into the action.

“What’s with this?” she asked, her tone stern and commanding, almost as if to compel you into saying exactly what she wanted: “Nothing, mom. I’m not going anywhere.”

It had always been that way. You’d intend to do something, and she’d shut you down before you could even try. But not this time.

“Carrying out my plans for summer break,” you replied and paused before continuing. “Why?”

The lines on your mother’s forehead deepened. “Plans?”

She was waiting for you to either straight up admit what you were up to or give up. You knew that, and you didn’t want to beat around the bush either, so you looked her right in the eyes and said, “Summer vacation plans, mom. I’m leaving today.”

“(Y/N), I thought we already talked about this. You can’t just—”

“Go around and quit my duties? Yeah, I know.”

“Then what are you doing right now?”

“I’m not quitting,” you said through gritted teeth, “I’m taking the break that I deserve.”

“You’re running away,” your mother accused, her voice trembling with incredulity and, despite her apparent effort to keep it controlled, a slight hint of anger. “You’re going back on your promise and you’re not going to do what you should just because you don’t want to. Stop being so selfish and naive, (Y/N). You’re not a child anymore.”

It was something just suddenly snapped inside you, and all your pent up frustration boiled over. “Selfish? Mom, do you ever think about how I feel? I’ve put up with all the things you wanted me to do and I can’t even have a single moment when I try to focus on my own happiness for once?”

“You promised—”

“I’m not a replacement for him!”

Your parents stared, momentarily speechless from your outburst. In the silence, you felt the frustration and anger wear away and bubble down to something that resembled a fevered hurt. The broken pain in your mother’s face seemed to mirror your own, but the words slipped out anyway.

“No matter what, I can’t be him. I can’t replace him. I know that’s what you want me to be, and that if I was, maybe you could think that he’s never gone, but I can’t. I just…”

You could see that your comments had hit their mark.“(Y/N)—” your mother started.

But at this point, you were too tired of arguing to continue. You didn’t wait to hear what she had to say, only picked up your bags and headed for the entranceway. You exhaled as the door clicked shut behind you. Gosh, I’m really going to do this, am I?

Resonance Beach Resort was a nice change from the usual fast-paced schedule of your daily life that was full of unwanted obligations and tasking duties. You'd visited often in your early childhood and teenage years, and had loved the place for its elegant, luxurious accomodations and the spectacular view of a pristine beach that spanned along the resort's outer edge. But since some time ago, all the pressure and weight of your increasing responsibilities had suddenly just came crashing down on you, and you found yourself taking cram school more often than not due to your parents' constant urging. There just simply wasn't any time for you to take the long vacation you desperately craved. Now that things have finally lessened up to nothing but socializing with your parents' acquaintances, this was the first place you'd thought of for the perfect getaway. Just hide away from the rest of the world for a little bit before reality kicks in and you'd sink back into your busying routine. Here, you could finally have some peace and quiet, be able to breathe easier for once. No more business events or get-togethers, no more forced polite conversations over tall glasses of champagne. If you were going to party, then you should at least do it properly. You figured that aside from relaxation and watersports, Resonance Beach Resort had exactly that.

You'd switched over to your spare phone for the duration of your stay. If your parents decided they've had enough of your “childishly selfish acts”, they'd be greeted by a long period of ringing without answer, followed by an irksome beep and the message that, "sorry, the number you've dialed is not available".

The fight still simmered fresh at the front of your mind, and you shook your head in an attempt to brush it away. A small part of you felt almost guilty about your abruptly impromptu runaway, but it was merely a fleeting thought that passed as quickly as it had come. You knew how hard it was for your parents since what had occurred years ago, and that they were afraid of the same thing happening with you. Still, it wasn’t fair for you to bear the burden of two and act in as a mere substitute only to make someone else feel a bit better. Since when did you owe your parents your entire summer break to play pretend anyways? It isn't as if it actually helped you do anything except feed your growing boredom and frustration for hours on end.

You walked into the entrance hall and made your way to the reception area that sat in the middle of the gentle hum of music and red carpets and golden chandeliers. After going through the check-in process, you received your room cards and headed toward your room to drop off your luggage first.

The west-side elevator was mainly empty aside from a few other visitors who, like you, arrived earlier than most do. They’d entered before you and stood along the side panels, each scrolling through their devices for news and texts. Why take the time and money to come and visit, you wondered, if they were going to just be on their phones all the time? But then again, you were glad none of them paid any attention to you and savored the peaceful silence. The back of the elevator was adorned with clear glass panes that overlooked the beachside, allowing riders to gaze out at the scenery below them as they rose high above ground. You stared at the swaying palms and foaming waves in the distance, and thought that—despite being here so many times before—the view had never looked so welcoming before. You couldn’t wait until you could get down there and enjoy the feel of the warm sunshine on your back, hear nothing but the calming hum of the ocean.

There was a short ding! as the elevator doors opened and a middle-aged woman exited. You turned briefly to watch her leave and the doors clang shut once more behind her. Some passengers shifted around to space themselves more evenly upon her departure, but other than that, it was the same, still, silence as before. A few more minutes passed, and the process repeated until it was just you and another man standing by the front. On the controls panel, only one floor button was lit up.

He was handsome in the most traditional sense, tall and fit with tousled dark hair, flawlessly smooth skin and wide doe eyes directed at his phone screen. Although he was only dressed in a simple graphic tee and sweatpants, they looked too expensive for the average person to afford and the look suited him so well he could no doubt pass for the modern-day version of Cinderella’s Prince Charming. You almost laughed at the thought. That had been your reaction too when you first saw your ex, and you fell for him so quickly, so easily, it didn’t take much to convince you that he loved you as much as you loved him. After all, why not? His family had been wealthy and influential like your own, and your parents—mostly your mom—had absolutely adored him. You thought you’d been living the perfect fantasy until it all broke down and your palace had turned into nothing more than rubble and ashes.

In the quiet buzz of the elevator, you could hear as the stranger dialed a number on his phone and put it to his ear. Whoever on the other side must’ve answered immediately, because the man started to talk right away.

“Hey, where are you guys?”

“Okay, just checking that you’re in the suite because I don’t have the key.”

“Yeah, I’m almost there, why?”

“Woo wants another bag of his favorite chips from the convenience store? Seriously? We’re at a fancy beach resort and he wants chips from the convenience stores? God.”

“Yeah, I brought them, don’t worry. I swear he stuffed my trunk full of them when I wasn’t looking because I barely even have space in there anymore. Geez, you’d think he would die if he went a day without those.”

“Yeah, okay. Mm-hmm. That’s fine by me. Sounds fun. See you.”

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop on the conversation, but the slight echo in the space made it easy for you to hear every word the man said. And for some reason, it brought back long-ago memories of you and your brother, having the time of your lives marveling over the elevator’s view. Arguing about whose snacks the ones in the bag were. Roaming around the resort like it was your own home. That wasn’t possible now, of course. He was farther away than ever, and happier. There wasn’t anything you could do except be happy for him, though that did nothing to help the sore ache in you.

Your entire life felt like a train wreck at the moment, but then again, that was why you were here at Resonance Beach Resort in the first place. And as the elevator dinged once more, you were determined to make your summer better. Much better.

An afternoon in the sun seemed to do its trick.

After spending several hours out by the rolling waves, reading magazines and enjoying the spontaneity of doing whatever you’d wanted to on a whim, you were ready to call it a day. The freedom was exhilarating, and though you’d done much less that you would’ve on a typical weekday, you felt much more fulfilled than before. You’d eaten a quick informal dinner down in the dining hall, too tired to spend time on a full-course meal, only stopping by the vending machine on your way back to your room for a drink.

You inserted your money into the slot, pausing for a moment to look at your choices. Ginger ale would be good, you decided absentmindedly, your thoughts already drifting elsewhere. When the drink rolled out of the machine, you stooped to pick it up before preparing to leave. You turned and, not realizing there was someone behind you, ran right into them, your arm bumping against theirs. The impact knocked the can of ginger ale out of your hands and you quickly bent down to pick it up before it could roll away.

“I’m sorry, that was my fault.”

You straightened up to see the man from the elevator. He rubbed his neck sheepishly, an apologetic smile on his face. He was close enough that you could see the curved bow of his lips and the way his eyes crinkled in good humor, the way the tips of his ears were red in embarrassment at having knocked into you.

You blushed at the close proximity between you and the stranger, before remembering your manners and shaking your head lightly, “No, I’m sorry, it was my fault as well. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

The two of you stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or what to do, until the man’s eyes landed on the room card in your hand.

“Suite 1009? What a coincidence, my friends and I are right next door. Want me to walk you back since we’re—you know—going the same way?”

You gave a little startled laugh, finding a bit of comfort in the fact that even a man as good-looking and confident-seeming as him could stumble over his words in situations like this. You’d pegged him for the type with an air of arrogance, but his voice held a sort of genuine sincerity and modesty along with the charm you’d expected. “Of course, I’d love that.”

As you walked down the corridor together, he seemed to realize something, and started in surprise, “Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Jaehyun. Jung Jaehyun.”

“I’m (Y/N),” you smiled. “It’s nice to meet you. Is this your first time here?”

“Well, yes, my friends and I were planning to go somewhere for the summer, and one of my friends recommended this resort. How did you tell?”

“I used to come here a lot, but I haven’t visited in a while. I came back to escape city life, I guess, though I must admit I missed this place tons. The things adult life takes away from you are just plain cruel.”

“I know right? Sometimes I wish I could just go back to seventeen and—”

“Relive that teenage dream?” you finished.

He laughed. “Yeah, exactly.”

“That’s what everyone says.”

“What, don’t you agree?” he looked at you in feigned shock.

You looked up at the ceiling as if searching for the answer in the lights above. “Yes,” you said truthfully, “I do agree.” Though it wasn’t exactly how you felt completely all the time, there was no denying that at least you’d loved the various aspects teenage years had to offer.

“You sound almost cynical about it.”

“Do I?” you shook your head. “Oh, well, personally, maybe, I guess?”

He gave you a weird look. “Think you could sound any more unsure about that?”

The two of you burst out laughing, the sound echoing against the walls of the hallway. As you chatted with Jaehyun, there was an undeniable tingle at the bottom of your stomach, spreading to the tips of your finger and your rosy cheeks. You didn’t know if you were willing to fall in love again, especially after your previous failures and bad encounters in romance that extended beyond your last relationship, but there was no denying that Jaehyun was fun to be around and you enjoyed his company immensely.

So when you both arrived at your destinations, you almost felt sorry to go. You lingered for a second, turning to him almost hesitantly.

Of course you’d see him again, being next-door neighbors for the next few weeks or so, as long as he’s here, but you didn’t want to leave and be all alone by yourself just yet.

Jaehyun seemed to feel the same, and he paused. “So, see you soon?”

You started to respond with a definite yes, but didn’t get a chance to answer. The door next to yours opened slightly, and some inaudible conversing trickled out from the crack. You caught a few words in the back-and-forth as you stood by your room, an amused smile at your lips. Jaehyun rolled his eyes, clearly used to this type of behavior from his friends.

“Oh, don’t mind them. They’re always like this.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, “They seem fun to be around.”

“Yeah, yeah, when they’re not nagging twenty-four-seven at me to get snacks for them.” Though you could see by the teasing grin on his lips that he was only kidding.

Jaehyun’s friend pushed the door open a little more so that the conversation became more distinctable. And then, a sudden recognition made you freeze in your tracks. Your heart dropped. No. No way. The smile fell from your lips, replaced with a rush of confusion and near-disbelief.

Was that…?

You heard his voice before you saw him.

“Jaehyun! You’re back, just in time—”

Brown hair, plump lips, and bright, playful eyes. His boyish features evolved into something more mature but not unlike its younger version, still lined with the same youthful innocence as years before. He was taller too, though in that moment, at first glance, you felt as if it was the only significant change in him. The familiarity jolted awake a feeling you had not felt since long ago, flipping back the pages of yesterday until it landed on a distant memory that seemed so close yet was so far away. It was like the world stopped spinning for a moment, freezing in time that had both given and taken so much from you.

Your stomach twisted with a mixture of fluttering anticipation and dizzy uncertainty.

Why here, of all times and places, did you have to meet Kim Jungwoo again?

Kim Jungwoo, who was your first love, but also your first heartbreak.

It all started the summer before your high school sophomore year, with an ice cream date as friends and a piggy back ride. You and Jungwoo had known each other for years, having met in elementary and developing a close bond over time. Though you each had your own separate friend groups, outside of school, the two of you often hung out together and spent time at each other’s houses. It wasn’t abnormal for you to have dinner at Jungwoo’s place—because your parents often went on business trips and rarely ever cooked even when they were home—and it certainly wouldn’t be a strange sight to see him on your couch, watching TV and snagging snacks from the basket on the coffee table as he waited for you to finish up your homework so the two of you could go out to the nearby park. It was practically routine when, two weeks after break began, he asked you if you wanted to go down to the beach with him and get some ice cream along the way. You texted back a quick “yes, of course” before flopping back onto your bed and blinking up at the ceiling as if in a dazed dream. And for some reason, you thought hard about what to wear.

It was an issue you never had to concern yourself with before. Jungwoo had seen you in your pajamas, bed hair and all, random mismatching clothes you’d thrown on in a hurry, and even ridiculous costumes you wore as a kid. He’d seen you down in your lowest low, face a mess with puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks. Heck, he probably knew all your embarrassing moments by heart and could recite them on a whim. But recently, you’d started to feel more self-conscious around him, and as days passed, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror more and more, holding up different tops and pants in an attempt to decide which would look nicer. A few years ago, you would’ve laughed at the thought. You? Fussing over clothing for Jungwoo’s sake? Ridiculous, you’d never needed to. But now, it seemed that the fact that he was a boy—and a very attractive one too—just sank in, and suddenly you became all too aware of it.

After shuffling through your wardrobe for ten full minutes, you finally ended up with a closet strewn messily with discarded options and clothing racks and an outfit you dimly recalled that Jungwoo had once expressed his liking for. You’d chosen a pair of thin, spaghetti sandals that were lined with gold, a gift from one of your mother’s shopping sprees, and made an effort to brush your hair neatly to go along with it all. Good enough, you supposed, as you turned left and right to check up on your appearance. Hopefully.

You grabbed your phone and keys, scribbled a note for your parents that you doubted they’d even read, and made your way out the door. Jungwoo was waiting for you at the front, standing casually by his car with one hand in his pockets. Your heart beat faster as you approached, the continuous drumming resonating within your chest and ears.

He’d been looking down at the pavement, scuffling a stray pebble around with his toes, but quickly lifted his head at your footsteps.

“Hey,” he greeted, smiling up at you.

“Wow, looking unexpectedly grown-upish today,” you lifted an eyebrow, trying to mask your nervousness in his presence with the usual snarky remarks. You spoke with a heavy hint of sarcasm, meaning that you were only joking about the matter, but what you said was true in a way—Jungwoo did look nice, though you weren’t about to say that aloud to him. It was as if you’d just noticed how much older he’d become, and how much more matured he looked.

“Really,” he said flatly, though his eyes were crinkled in good humor. “You’re the only one in the dark then.”

You laughed. “Because other people still call you an adorable baby?”

“Haha, so funny.”

You settled into the passenger seat beside Jungwoo and watched as he leaned over to put the vehicle in ignition. His hair had grown longer since his last haircut a few months ago, and they fell over his eyes. He shook them out of his face, reaching up a hand to brush away any remaining strands that stuck to his skin. He turned to grin at you before switching over to your favorite radio station as he started to drive. You tapped your fingers to the beat, and not a minute later, the two of you were singing along to the familiar tune. Jungwoo’s voice soared up and down as he sang in a weird mock accent, and you tried hard to keep your own from trembling with uncontrollable laughter. You both knew that Jungwoo was an amazing singer, but even more so a natural at comedy.

Jungwoo parked the car a few blocks away, deciding that trying to find an open spot in the crowded beachside lots was too much of a hassle. Summer had lured many people out with the promise of good weather, and combined with the dazzling scenery of the sea, who was to say no? The brightness of the skies was all too infectious, your mood soaring like the winds above that cast a blessing of gentle coolness upon the world. It was all so perfect that you’d even surrendered to Jungwoo in a water fight, although quite begrudgingly and continuing to splash in his way afterwards.

The sparkling waterdrops glittered midair like multifaceted diamonds so that although knee deep in water, you felt almost as if you were living in the midst of a glowing fairytale. After spending some time among the rolling waves, the two of you decided to walk around a bit and let the warm air dry your clothes before going to the ice cream store. Morning went by all too quickly, and soon noon had arrived. The sun shone brilliantly overhead, the pavement burning at the soles of your shoes. You grimaced at the heat, hopping slightly to avoid getting scalded and wishing you’d worn something that wasn’t so flimsy and thin. Jungwoo seemed to notice your discomfort, glancing your way worriedly.

“Are you okay?”

“No,” you groaned. “But thanks for your concern.”

He stopped as if to consider something, then squatted down in front of you. “Here.”

“What—” you started in surprise, caught off guard by his sudden action.

“Come on, I’ll carry you.”

You thought your face couldn’t get any redder than it already was, but you swear it just did.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to. It’s my fault anyways. I should’ve worn something more suitable,” you managed.

He grinned up at you. “Yeah, you probably should’ve, but that's what I’m here for, right? Moral and well—physical—support when you make those beginner mistakes.”

“Argh, you bastard,” you half-huffed, half-laughed, whacking his shoulder lightly with one hand.

“Hey! I’m just trying to help here.”

Caught up in the slight back-and-forth, you’d forgotten entirely about the source of it all and let out a strangled gasp when a red-hot pain shot up your feet.

“Yeah, it’s not up for debate at this point. Come on, just get on already. Grab on tight.”

With surprising strength, Jungwoo hoisted you up upon his back, his arms wrapped firmly around your legs to secure you in place. Instinctively, you reached over to cling onto his neck like your life depended on it.

“Gosh, not—this—tight,” he choked out, and although you knew he was half-joking, you mumbled a laughing apology.

You were tense at first, afraid to make a single wrong move. But after a while, you felt tired of staying so still and uptight like a board and relaxed some more. When the sun’s rays stung at your eyes, you laid your head sideways against Jungwoo’s neck, your breaths falling together in the same even rhythm. He hummed a tune you did not recognize, probably another one he’d just made up randomly, and you smiled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” you replied innocently. Just thinking how ridiculously likeable you are.

You wondered if Jungwoo could feel, through the thin fabric of your shirt, the pounding of your heart at his back, the same way you could smell the scent of the salty sea air and his favorite cologne on him. Raising a fingertip, you traced a heart lightly against his skin. He flinched. You held back a laugh. You’d done it right on his most ticklish spot.

He wouldn’t be able to tell, what you’d drawn and what you felt toward him, but at that moment, it felt like a nice secret, nestled comfortably within the confines of your heart. Maybe you’d tell him one day, when the time is right. You’d like to.

The ice cream shop of Jungwoo’s designation was just up the street. Apparently, it had opened just a while ago and, according to Jungwoo, he was dying for you to try some of their flavors. You didn’t have a favorite place you preferred, so you agreed without any conflict. As the two of you neared, you held on for just a little bit longer before hopping off reluctantly and fixing your clothes. You wished it didn’t have to end, that the two of you could stay that way forever, snug in each other’s embrace.

But it all changed when you walked inside the store.

The interior was neatly organized, with pastel-colored walls and light brown tables of different sizes scattered around the semi-spacious room, most of them occupied by other visitors. A long counter spanned the back of the shop, most of it built-in glass cases that displayed a colorful array of ice cream in their silver tubs. A couple workers stood behind it in sky-colored uniforms, occupied with a variety of tasks and tending to customers.

You breathed in softly, taking in the scent of chocolate and vanilla and an assortment of fruit. The air around you was cool, and you were immensely grateful for the air conditioners that made the atmosphere so welcoming after spending a long time in the sweltering sun.

“It’s nice here.”

“I know right?” Jungwoo grinned. “Just wait until you taste their ice cream. It’s the best.”

There was quite a line at the counter, and your skin itched with the particles of sand that had stuck to it uncomfortably. Your hair was wind-blown and a tangled mess atop your head, and you felt conscious of the fact that you probably looked like a mess. “Hey, Woo, I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Alright,” he gave you a thumbs-up. “I’ll pick out something for you. I swear you’ll love it.”

“Okay, thanks,” you laughed. “I’ll look forward to it then.”

After fixing up your hair and wiping yourself clean with a paper towel, you felt semi-presentable and headed out of the restrooms to find Jungwoo. You didn’t see him at the tables nor in the line, but in the close distance, almost hidden from view the rest of the shop but clearly visible from where you were standing, caught your attention.

Jungwoo.

Except he wasn’t alone.

A pretty girl around your age stood by him, donning the uniform of the store workers. She seemed to have just gotten off her shift and was loosening her hair from the ponytail she’d previously kept it in. Jungwoo was chatting animatedly, and she laughed at something he said, then shot back with her own response. He reached over and engulfed her in his arms, swaying her from side to side almost exaggeratedly.

There was a familiarity, closeness, in the way they interacted, and as you watched on, you felt your heart slowly clench tighter and tighter until it felt impossibly suffocating. Was this what heartbreak felt like? An ache so terrible and soul-splitting that you couldn’t quench no matter how hard you tried.

At the side counter, they were still going at it. He grabbed at her to kiss her cheek, but she turned away, pushing herself out of his grasp. He made a few more futile attempts, to no avail, and the two of them burst out laughing, her high, lovely one mixing in with his lower, boyish baritone.

You looked down, and wished you could just disappear into a hole. When you returned to the table after you made sure the commotion in the front had died down, Jungwoo was already waiting with the ice cream. One for him and the other, your favorite favor. He handed yours to you, but you found that you didn’t have the appetite for it anymore. You managed to muster up a feeble “thanks” and a strained smile, staring at the cone in your hands.

“What’s wrong?”

You couldn’t see Jungwoo’s expression, but you could hear the concern lacing his voice. As if he wasn’t laughing so merrily just a second ago.

“Nothing,” you replied, staring at the table. “I should probably go now. My parents said we were going out for lunch today.”

“But you said you didn’t have any plans,” Jungwoo said, confused.

“Well,” you shrugged, “It’s really my mom’s. Anyways, see you later.”

The bell jangled behind you as you exited the shop, the sound not as cheerful as it had been just a while before. A rush of hot air greeted you, but the stinging at your feet could no longer compare to that of the pain in you.

“Oh, okay. See you.” You could still hear his disappointed voice, although you couldn’t fathom just why he wouldn’t be glad to have some time with his girlfriend without you there as an awkward third-wheeler.

You didn’t see Jungwoo again that summer.

TO BE CONTINUED.

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[restapesta]

Fucking Milkovich

words: 5.5k

Five times Ian pulled Mickey away from starting a fight and the one time the roles were reversed.

1. THE STORE

The old lady had been side-eyeing them since they accidentally bumped into her at the wine aisle, Mickey backing into her as he and Ian led a loud, heated discussion about whether or not the Rose that was in Ian's hand was the same one from the gay party they had attended a couple of days before.

Ian was dead set on saying that it was the same bottle of pink wine and that even if it wasn't, it probably tasted the same, all the while Mickey was dead set on proving to Ian that the bottle was most certainly not the same one and that they should crack it open and try it even if they were still in the middle of the supermarket. They were bickering back and forth, not paying much attention to their surroundings, and Mick had backed away from the rack of wines, unceremoniously colliding with the gray-haired lady who was pushing a cart filled to the brim with groceries. It was a miracle the items hadn't toppled out, considering there was a mountain of them. Ian wondered how steadily the lady must've been pushing the cart, and how close his husband had come from knocking it all down.

Mickey had muttered a quick sorry and Ian had shot the lady an apologetic look when she just stared at Mickey and the tattoos that covered his hands and arm, blatantly revealed by his short-sleeved t-shirt. Ian had told him he looked hot in it that morning, so Mickey had kept the jacket off, appeasing his husband's gaze. He felt a bit cold but Ian's eyes following unapologetically as his arms flexed made it all worth it.

Ian gestured for Mickey to leave the aisle with his eyes, accompanied by a sharp tilt of his head -- and they continued their way to the other racks of food and drinks, Ian placing the bottle of wine in their own basket. They weren't there for a full-on grocery run. They were in Costco purely because their snacks and beer needed stocking up, and they needed some shit for the mac-and-cheese Mickey had been craving. Ian had lost a bet while they were at work today so he promised to make him some -- a deed Mickey was quite happy about.

They bumped into the lady once more at the cash register. There were some people six feet in front of them (considering they kept their distance), unloading their stuff, and the woman was mere inches behind them, as if she was waiting in line with the couple, not behind them, pressed close. Mickey shot her a glance and when he noticed her scowl, he gave her a slight smile that Ian knew was obviously not a smile, but rather a 'hello lady I crashed into, why are you standing so close, back away from me and my tall ginger before I tell you to back the fuck away'  threat. He had a feeling the lady caught on to what Ian did, but chose not to comply, considering how her scowl deepened and how she seemed to press impossibly closer.

Mickey and Ian shared a look but kept their mouths shut, preparing to unload their shit onto the moving thingy -- but then the old bat spoke.

"Least you could do is let me cut the line." She was looking straight at Mickey, and to Ian,  judging by the look on his husband's face, it seemed as if he was considering it. But when his gaze swept over the pile in her cart -- the one almost spilling over -- he simply shrugged, "No. I couldn't."

Mickey kept unloading the few items they did have, and Ian followed his lead, but the lady was persistent. "You are very unkind."

Mickey simply muttered an 'uh-uh' as he grabbed the money out of his jacket.

"You should be ashamed."

Mickey rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb and Ian knew that signaled danger, so he pushed him lightly with his shoulder, gesturing for him to pay. Mickey obliged begrudgingly, choosing to ignore the bitch. The cashier was just finishing placing their shit into the plastic bag, handing it to Ian, also handing Mickey back the change. They were going to leave the place unscathed.

Too bad the bitch couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"You should put a leash on him."

Before Mickey had a chance to jump her and gauge her eyes out, Ian wrapped his hands around his torso and pushed him towards the door of the store, whispering 'calm the fuck down' to him curtly, the grocery bag in his hand making it harder to sustain his husband. It wasn't the first time he had done this, and he doubted it would be the last. It was somewhat of a struggle but Ian managed. He also tried to ignore the look of pure horror on the grandma's face.

When he was finally able to get Mickey through the door -- while the guy spewed graphic insults at the hag -- he let go, making sure to keep him a safe distance away from the store.

"What the fuck is it with old bitches being so fucking rude?" Mickey muttered loudly, grabbing the bag out of Ian's hand and pulling out the Rose. He opened the bottle easily and took a long gulp, emptying a third of the bottle with it. His face scrunched up immediately. "I fucking told you it wasn't the same one!"

Ian just shook his head.

Fucking Milkovich.

2. THE JOB

The day had been pretty slow. They had their regular cash pick-ups and deliveries, and they had finished most of them, considering how the day was nearing its end. Both Ian and Mickey were ready to get back home and crash on the couch, maybe down a beer or two, and especially take off the uniforms that had truly made them sweat today. Spring was coming, and fuck if Ian wasn't ready for the onslaught of discomfort the camo brought on with it. Mickey didn't look like he minded it much, but Mickey was Mickey, so it wasn't a surprise. Ian, on the other hand, was already considering alternatives.

They were delivering their last bags of weed, taking a long ass drive to fucking HerbalCare, knowing it would take them a while to get back home too -- but the Northsiders that owned the place were kind of their regulars, so they were used to it.

Both Ian and Mickey expected the usual chick to show up and pick up the marijuana when they eventually got to the place -- the one with the curly red hair and a sassy attitude -- but instead, an unknown guy did with a large-ass man following shortly behind.

The first guy looked like any other -- casual clothing, friendly face, easy demeanor -- unlike -- what Ian supposed was -- his bodyguard. He looked like a capo with his broad shoulders, tight black shirt, tattoos littering his body, head cleanly shaved. Ian glanced reluctantly at his own thug, mentally praying Mickey had a bullet that could take down the motherfuckers in front of them if necessary.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" The normal-looking one spoke.

Mickey nodded, also slightly taken aback, but not letting it show. "We have a delivery for HerbalCare." He glanced at Ian. "For Dina? Wasn't it?"

Ian nodded slowly, assessing the situation.

"I'll take it from here." The guy responded, eyeing Mickey up and down. "Dina is currently busy at the moment." Mickey didn't seem too happy with the asshat's statement. Ian wasn't either, naturally. The man had an odd vibe to him -- he seemed on edge despite his cool facade, and Ian saw straight through it. He glanced at Mickey who seemed to have been noticing the same thing. They were not handing shit over to these assholes. There's a certain trust you had to earn before claiming a couple of thousand dollars worth of weed from Gallavich Security.

"How 'bout I just speak to Dina, yeah?" Mickey's voice was calm and eery -- he was in boss mode. The mode that even scared Ian, sometimes. It was dangerous territory these guys were treading on if Mickey had resorted to going into the mode only slightly less scary than Milkovich thug mode.

The dude, still nameless, smiled without humor. "Why don't you just give me the weed, huh?"

Mickey pulled out his gun swiftly, pointing it straight at the guy's head. The shock on his face only lasted for a moment before it turned into a smirk. The capo next to him pulled out his own, only slightly smaller than Mickey's, pointing it at Mickey's head.

Well, shit.

Ian pulled out the gun from his waistband, feeling slightly worried for his and his husband's safety, pointing it at the tall-ass man. It was like a scene from a movie. A poor, shitty-quality one.

"How about we all just put down our guns and we'll come back when Dina gets here?" Ian's voice was smooth and the silence hung lowly over them for a couple of moments. Ian was never a gun sort of guy, but rather a talk-it-out one.

They eventually all put down their guns, albeit reluctantly.

"Okay, then. Guess we'll be seeing you." The guy muttered as he turned his back to Ian and Mickey, capo following behind, shooting them a glare. Their movements were slow and deliberate, but eventually, when they were a safe distance away, the capo turned around and shot them the middle finger.

Ian was just barely in time to stop Mickey before he leaped out to kill the motherfucker.

He wrapped his arms around him like a boa constrictor, attempting to stop him from committing homicide. As always, it took a while.

Mickey growled after a minute or two, finally calming down, glaring at the spot the asshole thieves were a few moments before. "Oh, you fucking will be seeing me. You'll be seeing me in your nightmares, you motherfuckers."

Ian barely contained himself from rolling his eyes.

Fucking Milkovich.

3. THE ALIBI

Ian had been nursing a beer for the past hour while his worse half had already downed three. Mickey was on his fourth glass of Budweiser, slightly tipsy, but not quite drunk just yet as he and Ian enjoyed their night out, something one might even call a date (correction: something only Ian would call a date).

They had gone out for chicken wings, played some pool after dinner -- even took a fucking stroll out -- and now, they were chilling at the Alibi Room, enjoying each other's companies, talking about anything and everything, laughing at Kevin's jokes and making fun of Kermit and Tommy, the regular drunks of the Southside.

It was a slow day today, their job weighing a little extra heavy on their shoulders, but the night was swift, in contrast. In fact, they were having a really good time, letting go of all of the fucked-up things happening in their lives right now, the burden coming off of their shoulders, even for a little while. And Ian was especially looking forward to the sex that was bound to follow when they got back home. Hell, if Mickey continues drinking the beers at this pace, maybe even in the bathroom -- it truly only depended on the level of horniness the drunken state would illicit.

They were still enjoying their alcohol and horniness when Kermit had decided to remind everyone of a comment. Ian guessed it wasn't supposed to be that big of a deal. Both Ian and Mickey had dealt with far worse from people far shittier than Tommy and Kermit. But the comment  --  the one about how Tommy was against their wedding, saying it was a man-woman thing -- didn't really sit well with either of them. Ian had no idea how the topic even came up, and the whole 'kind of drunk and talk-y' Mickey wasn't helping the case, but the words most certainly had an undesired effect on the couple.

Mickey had stilled immediately.

It wasn't that big of a deal. Homophobes were all around them, and they knew that Tommy was as gay and as homophobic as any of them, and Mickey would probably ignore the comment had he not been this content with the night he was having.

Here he was with Ian, having a great time, enjoying his life, his marriage, and over-all his husband, and this asshole was going to ruin it with this comment. This stupid, meaningless comment.

Neither Ian nor Mickey lived in a fantasy -- the one where everyone was supportive of the gays and where love was simply love, no matter if it was between a male and a female, or a male and a male -- but sometimes, they forgot what world they actually lived in and in those moments they were at their most vulnerable to these sort of remarks. They cut them deep, Mickey especially.

He was so happy with Ian, so happy with his marriage, the life they shared, that the outside world rarely even mattered. But when he heard someone saying how they shouldn't have gotten married -- shouldn't have been enjoying their love and relationship, shouldn't be where they are now -- Mickey got pissed.

"Oh yeah, Tommy? Man-woman thing?" Mickey's voice was unnervingly steady.

Kevin eyed Kermit, silently conveying the question, "why the fuck would you say that". Kermit shrugged but Mickey only had eyes for dear old Tom. He was watching him like prey.

Tommy gulped, not as afraid of Mickey as he used to be, but definitely not one-hundred percent safe around him either. Everybody knew Mickey protected himself and his family -- Ian and the Gallaghers -- only. Everyone else could just go fuck themselves. Tommy fell into the latter group.

"That's just the way I've been taught. Y'all are good, enjoy your marriage." He attempted to climb out of the hole he had dug for himself but it wasn't really working. The asshole had made it too deep and had fallen into it headfirst.

"Oh, I'm so fucking happy I have your approval." Mickey bit back.

"Oh, no," Ian muttered lowly. "Mick."

"You should be happy I don't have a gun on me now. Now, while I'm on a date with my husband." He annunciated the words slowly, making sure Tommy understood and heard them very well and remembered them for good. Ian's heart fluttered at the mention of the word date, but he reeled it back in for now. He could enjoy it later when Mickey wasn't on the verge of murdering someone.

"Hey man, how 'bout you just calm down?"

Tommy really wanted to die today.

Ian was pushing Mickey out of the bar before he strangled the man with his bare hands. Mickey cursed as they were leaving, resisting his husband as he attempted to drag him out. Ian barely got them through the door, and when he did, Mickey tried hard to go back in.

Ian hissed at him to stop. Eventually, Mickey did.

"I see him one more time, I'm killing him, understood?" Mickey was baring his teeth at the bar as if Tommy could see him. "Him and his counterpart."

Ian closed his eyes briefly.

Fucking Milkovich.

4. THE BLEACHERS

It had always been their spot. From the beginning, it was a place for Ian and Mickey to run away to, not just to hook up, but to escape their lives and the turmoils of their families, each fucked up in its own fucked up way. It was easy for them to just disappear for a while, fucking against the fence, shot-gunning beer with no one to reprimand them for when they left the cans on the stadium, the world completely oblivious that it was the odd duo. Not just Mickey Milkovich, the infamous Southside thug, and not just Ian Gallagher, the skinny army ginger -- but both Ian and Mickey, a pairing no one saw coming, not from a million light-years away.

It was easier back then, sure, but now, it was better. They used to just fuck underneath the bleachers, making it nothing more than a hook-up spot, barely touching after sex, drinking beer like just a couple of friends, not like they were in between rounds, Ian aching for more, Mickey denying him access to it. Ian knew Mickey wouldn't even admit they were friends back then.

But then again, it was different then than it was now.

Now the bleachers were their spot. Not just a fuck spot like it used to be. No -- it was a hangout spot. They didn't have their own place yet -- that was still a work in progress -- and when the Gallagher house became too loud and too messy for them to just enjoy their night, outside of the confines of their room, they went to the bleachers.

It wasn't a regular occurrence, more like a once-a-month sort of thing, but it still felt great and rejuvenating -- it felt like them. A space in the dark where they could just talk and drink and mess around and make out in, unapologetically relieved of the burden on their shoulders, whatever it may be.

Tonight was a night like that, a night where all they wanted and needed to do was escape -- Terry's death was still weighing heavy on Mickey's soul, for reasons Mickey and Ian both had yet to uncover, and the house was brimming with too many Gallaghers with too many opinions and observations. They needed a break.

The spot under the bleachers was supposed to be reserved for them as always, and they had brought along a six-pack of beer as well, deciding to just get drunk, even if they still had to get to work the next morning. It would be a good ending to a shitty week.

But the asshole kids sitting at their spot weren't gonna let that play out.

Ian and Mickey were aware that they were grown-ass men, but it was ten pm and these children had no right to even be near the bleachers let alone smoking and drinking underneath them. They were far from teens and they reminded Ian of himself and Lip when they were mere eleven-year-olds trying to figure the messed-up world out.

Mickey didn't really see it that way. He was clearly just annoyed.

"Beat it." He said in a curt voice, flicking his wrist to point to the imaginary exit. Ian followed suit reluctantly, only after trying to convince Mickey to just let them have at it and go to the dugouts instead.

"No Ian, we came here because this is our spot and these little fuckers need to go." Mickey had responded.

Ian was aware his husband had issues.

He was used to it.

The kids laughed, the three voices laughing merging, sounding more like a pack of hyenas. "Watcha' gonna do about it, grandpa?"

Mickey had a very shitty couple of days.

Mickey was not a well-tempered person.

Mickey was on the verge of killing something.

These kids were the catalyst.

When Mickey took a swift step towards them, Ian was once again -- how many times was it, now? -- holding him back. The kids scattered around, scared shitless of the thug. They were gone in the blink of an eye.

Ian felt sorry for them, but he was happy that, at least, Mickey didn't dump their tiny bodies in the river. Not that Mickey would've actually done that.

Ian hoped.

"I was one second from threatening to eat them for lunch," Mickey grumbled. He then pointed at the free spot. "At least they're gone. Gimme that beer, I wanna have some good drunk sex."

He made a gesture with his fingers and smiled as if nothing had happened. Wasn't Ian supposed to be the crazy one?

Fucking Milkovich.

5.  THE GALLAGHER HOUSE

Debbie Gallagher was extremely annoying nine times out of ten. Ian Gallagher knew it. Mickey Milkovich knew. The entire Gallagher clan knew it. But today, she seemed especially bitchy.

It was a Friday night -- usually reserved for a good home-cooked meal, chilling on the couch, watching TV,  and just having a family night altogether. Even Lip and Tami were in the house on Fridays, bringing Fred along to play with Franny and Liam (who would more-so look after them than play with them).

That's how the nights usually went.

But tonight, Debbie the Brat had every intention of fucking it up.

She sauntered into the house, bitchiness oozing from her pores, head held high even though it should have been bowed down in shame. She was drunk off her rocks, and she was dragging Franny along with her.

"Hi, assholes." She greeted the family in the kitchen, letting go of Franny's hand, pulling her sunglasses off to reveal blood-shot eyes. God knows where the hell she had been today. All Ian knew was that she left the house sober with Franny and was now completely drunk, if not high, the little girl still trailing behind.

"Wash your hands, Fran," Liam instructed, eyeing Debbie up and down. She seemed even more fucked up than usual in his eyes.

She plopped herself down on the closest free chair which happened to be across Mickey. It was quiet for a few moments, everyone waiting for something to happen. Debbie was an unpredictable drunk, something they were only lately discovering.

It seemed like Debbie had woken up today and chosen violence.

She looked straight into Mickey's eyes. "Your cousin is a cunt."

Mickey raised an eyebrow while the other Gallaghers observing the exchange. Ian was sat next to him. He put his utensils down, not sure how this exchange was going to unravel, also pulling Mickey's knife out of reach, in a way he hoped was inconspicuous.

Just in case.

"She is a self-absorbed cunt who has no business in this house anymore." Deborah continued as if someone gave a shit. Mickey especially.

He shrugged. "Last I'd seen her was the morning after you guys broke up. I couldn't give less of a shit about whether or not she's with you or not with you. For fuck's sake, the break-up happened a long-ass time ago, get over it." Mickey looked down at his plate, continuing to eat his dinner, clearly signifying the conversation was over. He glanced at Ian when he couldn't find his knife.

Instead of moving on, Debbie grabbed a loaf of bread and threw it at him.

Mickey stilled.

Carl elbowed her hard but she paid no attention to the warning. She was having a staring contest with Mickey Milkovich. One she would eventually lose.

"Back the fuck off, Debbie," Ian warned himself.

She switched her gaze from Mickey to Ian. Her gaze was murderous. "Or what, Ian? You'll try and kill me with a bat?"

Collective silence fell over the table. Noone seemed to be breathing. All eyes switched to Ian, gauging his reaction, not believing the words that had left Debbie's mouth, but even warier of the ones that were bound to leave Ian's.

Ian had other things occupying his mind, though, and one of those things was his husband who was probably a second away from killing his sister-in-law.

"You bitch." Ian held Mickey down by his shoulders as he attempted to climb over the table and tackle her to the floor. "You and your condescending cunt can fuck off."

"Mickey. Come on." Ian pushed him out of the chair and shoved him lightly, indicating for him to go upstairs.

"No, Ian. She needs to be set fucking straight, or else you'll have a new Frank on your hands. This bitch." He fought against him as Debbie just sat still.

"Mickey." Ian shoved him towards the stairs, afraid he would have to explain to the cops how his husband murdered his sister if Mickey didn't leave the room, immediately. Mickey noticed Ian's serious expression, and slowly climbed up, all the while muttering to Debbie to go fuck herself.

Ian glanced at Debbie from where he stood.

"What?" She asked, innocently.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Debbie snorted. "Sorry if I hurt your feelings. Not like it wasn't true."

"I couldn't give less of a shit whether or not you think I'm crazy. You come in here and talk to Mickey like that again, I will be using a bat. Only then you'll see how crazy I can get." Ian was dead serious.

It was the first time since she came in that her eyes truly widened in fear.

He backed away upstairs slowly.

The rest of the Gallaghers were silent for a moment before they all collectively shot Debbie a dirty look, soon erupting in chatter, as if nothing had happened.

It had been merely a few seconds before Ian had entered their room, when Mickey finally started his rant, talking shit about Debbie, defending Ian being at the core of it all.

He had a lot to say, and Ian was going to listen to it all, like the supportive husband he was, always taking Mick's side.

As he listened to Mickey rant about Debbie, he thought about what he had said to her. It was true -- every single word that had left his mouth. He hoped she and the rest of them -- no matter who it was -- understood.

Mickey was more important to him than anyone else in this world, even his sister. He was Ian's family, his next of kin, the one Ian trusted and loved the most. When push comes to shove, he will chose him, no matter what. He will always choose his husband, the love of his life, his worse half.

God, he was soft.

Fucking Milkovich.

+1 THE STORE, THE JOB, THE ALIBI, THE BLEACHERS, THE GALLAGHERS

"You really keep me from killing people, man. Feel like I should thank you."

Mickey had muttered that lowly in the dark, his head resting on Ian's chest, both of them naked, enjoying their post-sex bliss. It was then when they were at their most open, letting out emotions and feelings that usually didn't seep into the mundane day.

Ian ran his fingers along Mickey's bare back, enjoying how Mickey shivered against them. "You do the same thing." He answered simply.

Mickey raised his head slightly to look at his husband. "No, I don't. I've never had to physically pull you away from stabbing or strangling someone."

"You do realize I usually get as pissed off as you do at these things."

"These things?"

Ian rolled his eyes in the dark. "C'mon Mick. You really think I'm okay with an old lady calling you rude and ignorant and judging you like you're nothing but a street rat. Or some assholes flipping us off after trying to steal our weed?" He adjusted his arm so it rested over Mickey's shoulder, Mickey's cheek pressed into his peck. "You think I don't get mad when Tommy talks about how we shouldn't have gotten married because we're men? Or how Debbie had the audacity to talk to you like that, in front of me."

"You never react to it, though. That's why I don't pull you away from starting shit. You kind of just stay calm." Mickey responded to Ian's short monologue.

Ian chuckled. "Mick. If I wasn't so busy pulling you away, I'd probably be the one murdering them all."

This time Mickey raised his head to fully look at Ian. They adjusted their positions so it was easier to keep each other's gaze.

"I'm serious," Ian responded to Mickey's expression of disbelief.

Ian was completely and utterly serious. That shit happened a lot.

In fact, had Ian not been so busy pushing Mickey out of the store, the plastic bag filled with shit they needed for dinner and the expensive -- but probably not correct -- Rosè in one of his hands, making sure his husband didn't go to prison for stabbing the geriatric bitch, he would have gotten really fucking pissed and probably have gone off at the grandma himself.

If Mickey didn't attempt to go after the fucking thieves, like the sociopath he was, Ian would've probably pulled out his gun and pointed it at the men's fucking back. Maybe he would've even tried emptying the clip.

Mickey trying to strangle Tommy was good enough of a distraction for Ian not to beat the asshole up himself. How fucking dare he talk about marriage like that, the drunk bitch. Ian would've been a second away from hurling himself at Tommy and beating the shit out of him -- but fuck it if Ian was gonna let Mickey get arrested for aggravated assault and risk his parole.

The kids at the bleachers didn't bother him. He knew Mickey had a soft spot for kids himself, so it was more of a hissy fit than a homicidal fit.

Debbie was the one that truly made his blood boil.

"You know," Ian began. "I would've probably signed a death warrant on Debbie and mine's relationship that night if you weren't there."

"How so?" Mickey was caressing Ian's cheek with his thumb, giving him the biggest case of heart-eyes. Ian didn't doubt that was how he was looking at Mickey himself.

"When she was saying that shit, all I could think of was making sure you didn't kill her. I barely registered what the fuck she was saying. I was trying to keep you from flipping the table and making Franny an orphan." Mickey rolled his eyes but kept silent. He knew there was truth in Ian's words. "But, if you weren't there. If Debbie had just started talking about me and the whole bipolar thing and I didn't have you to keep me from actually letting the words sink in..." He drifted off, not knowing how he would've reacted. The words would have probably cut him deep.

Shifting closer, Mickey pressed his palm against Ian's cheek. "Do we need to talk about how you should under no circumstance listen to your bitch of a sister? What happened all those years ago happened while you were manic and off your meds. Her using that as a comeback in an argument is low and a fucking betrayal. Right now, you are the healthiest you've been since your diagnosis and you shouldn't let her get in your head. Hell, if I have to, I'll fucking try and murder anyone to stop the words from -- what did you say -- sinking in?" Ian laughed wetly, feeling himself get emotional over Mickey's little speech.

"You're amazing, Ian." He finished. "I'm proud of you."

Ian pulled Mickey's body close, making their naked bodies press flush against each other. Their noses touched as Ian took a moment to appreciate what the universe had given him. The soft lines of Mickey's face, the blemishes, and the tiny scars -- the eyebrows Ian had joked were iconic to him -- everything that made Mickey Milkovich his Mickey.

A kid forged in hate and homophobia, morphed by the Southside into a short-tempered thug, capable of murder in the blink of an eye if you so much as looked at him wrong. A Milkovich taught to care for nobody but family, to stay loyal to them and never snitch, but also taught to put a bullet in their fucking heads if betrayed. A hard-ass and a thief, ready to shamelessly steal from any store of his choosing, barely giving a shit whether it lands him in juvie or not.

A man capable of so much love. A man who took care of Ian when he was at his worst, made sure to keep him safe and protected. The man who came out for him in front of his worst nightmare, all so he could keep Ian, even if he was nothing but a mess kept together by unawareness. A man capable of murder for Ian. A man capable of running away with Ian. A man capable of going back to prison for Ian. A man who loved Ian, and would always try to keep him safe.

"You done staring?" Mickey smirked at him.

Ian smiled, shaking his head slightly. "I don't think I'll ever be." He then added, quietly, "I'm so lucky."

Mickey nodded, his lips mere inches away from Ian's. "I am too."

Soft lips moved against each other slowly, creating a rhythm Ian never wanted to lose.

He knew he never would.

His life, even after all the worst possible shit a person could imagine, was pretty fucking great. All thanks to Mickey.

His husband.

His partner.

His soulmate.

His worse half.

His Milkovich.

THE END

[ak8shi]

FWB HQ Boys: In which you beat the player at his own game!

warnings: Time skip spoilers, mentions of sex(all characters are 18+), stupid people in love

a/n: I love one(1) libra man!! I love Atsumu’s character and the way he’s developed in hq and I think that this is a very probable way in which he finds love !! thank you all so much for loving the first installment so much <3 I-I went a little overboard with this one but ,, xoxo Chlo

━Miya Atsumu

Let’s start with a little background; I think we can all agree Atsumu is and always has been popular with the ladies

…But that doesn’t necessarily mean the ladies are popular with him LMAO

He’s truly the emotionally unavailable heartbreaker and he built himself quite a reputation without even knowing it

This dude doesn’t even really fuck around with girls, maybe a few meaningless flings his senior year but besides that, he only has eyes for one lady and her name begins with the letter V and ends with ball

LET’S GO

So you’ve known Atsumu for years unfortunately,,, and you surely know about how he treats the girls that approach him with confessions and boxes of chocolates

You don’t approve of it at all, but your family is practically family with the Miya’s and you’ve literally spent every major holiday with them since you can remember

You: Atsumu would it kill you to show some respect towards these women

Atsumu: If she breathes, she’s a thot

….smh… a fucking mess someone please put him in his place

However your mom was always happy that you could be around the twins since you were an only child, and she loved the idea of you having two brothers who would protect you from the evils of college men little did she know,,

You hate to admit it and we hate to see it, but you started to develop a crush on him your freshman year of high school.. you suppose it was because you spent so much time with him and you saw parts of him that a lot of people didn’t get to see I mean you also saw him with his jersey on and off pretty often how could you resist

For example, every Halloween you had a sleep-over tradition where you watched horror films after trick-or-treating and Atsumu was scared SHITLESS every year, I’m talking ripping your favorite blanket off you and burying his face in it to block out the movie, he would threaten you and Osamu about telling people at school about it

Him, a 17 year old teen standing in your doorway at 3:40 am: c-can I sleep on yer floor I LOVE HIM SKAKAKAJSW

You, filming him and sending it to Suna on snap: sure Atsumu <3

You found yourself entranced when he automatically gave you his school cardigan on the walks home from school when it was cold or raining, and completely enraptured by his cute little accent

Atsumu: did ya know yer a fuckin’ idiot bimbo stupid butt crack for not bringin’ yer jacket

Atsumu: yer lucky I’m a gentleman

You: ...

Osamu: god…..

It was naïve to think he would ever reciprocate feelings especially with his entire life being his volleyball career, and you convinced yourself it was a tiny high school crush and eventually you managed to repress it

Too much was on the line; you didn’t want to make both of your families awkward, and you needed to focus on your studies as one of the top students at Inarizaki yes ma’am

Besides you loved him like family right ???

RIGHT ???

The twins are a year older than you, and Atsumu had just signed to play professionally for MSBY!!

You at his official signing: wow, looks like you don’t have to resort to living on the streets after all

Him: yeah ❤️

You kind of forgot about how you felt about him since you weren’t seeing either of the twins consistently anymore with how busy both of you were; you stayed in contact, but nothing really serious

It was weird because you were still in high school while the boys were experiencing college and doing their own thing… you drifted apart honestly and you felt a bit awkward talking to them sometimes, you felt like you were bothering them Atsumu would probably tease you and say that you were

Another year passed and you were heading to college! You are living your best life, meeting new people, and then you got the text from your mom that you were doing Thanksgiving with the Miya’s,, you weren’t sure if that meant you would be seeing both twins but something about the possibility of seeing Atsumu again made something stir in your chest

Fall break hit and you found out both the twins and you were back at home since Atsumu also had a rare break from training and his regular professional season

You were helping Osamu out at his shop, since it was his first time dealing with the overflow of Thanksgiving season as a new business owner

You’re helping close the shop, when you hear the door jingle; you turn to say a polite “sorry we’re closed for the day,” but you’re met with what seems like a new and improved and muscular Atsumu OH NO

He looks amazing and so much older than you remember??? And he’s thinking the same thing about you!!! Like wow she’s changed a lot since she started college, I’ve missed a lot apparently ??

You immediately fall into his arms, inhaling his familiar scent, Osamu rolling his eyes at the two of you and telling you to get lost before he yaks

You leave the shop with Atsumu, inviting him to your house; as you enter, you catch your mom leaving to pick up some last-minute groceries for the Thanksgiving meal

She’s acts way happier to see Atsumu than she acted when you came home LMAO later she doesn’t shut up about how handsome and manly he’s become, but you just pull him away to your room and lock your door behind you

He goes to sit on your flower-patterned comforter from your childhood, newly washed thanks to your mother

Atsumu: so…. what’s up with you..?

You can’t control the churning of your stomach all of a sudden; you can’t remember him ever looking at you this way, like he’s looking at a woman

The feelings come rushing back, and literally all you can think about is kissing him

You lean back on your dresser in front of the bed, and a wave of need to express yourself washes over you,

“Atsumu, I missed you.”

You don’t even know what’s happening until you’re trapped in between Atsumu and the door, his mouth gently pressed against yours, his warm hands caressing your hips

He asks if this is okay, and all you can do is moan back a yes in response

Let’s just say your mom might need to clean your comforter again lmaoo

It’s complicated and you’re both kinda confused after… like no one admitted that they had feelings for the other and its not like either of you can just disappear from the other’s life like a random hook-up

BUT BOTH OF YOU ARE TOO STUPID AND STUBBORN TO REALIZE YOU LIKE EACH OTHER AND WANT A RELATIONSHIP I-

Like he’s literally cuddling you and kissing you and asking you about college in your childhood bedroom naked what

And it ISN’T uncomfortable at all

It feels so right to be in his arms, and you’re in disbelief about what happened??? What even like how have you gone all this time without doing anything honestly

You suddenly hear your dad pull into the garage, and you’re both up and putting your clothes on as fast as possible

It’s embarrassing when you look back on it, how long the hook-ups went on, but this was a common occurrence whenever the two of you were home

It was basically like you were dating and doing long-distance without the label

IT WENT ON FOR ALMOST A YEAR 🤡

Osamu during next year’s Thanksgiving meal: I think we should go around the table and say what we’re thankful for, I’ll go first. I’m thankful that two people at this table are getting laid despite the fact that I’m not 😊

Your parents:

Atsumu, in many ways, is oblivious to what his feelings mean after not really being in any real relationships and blocking out all the girls during high school,

He would find himself texting you after each of his matches, hoping you had watched him and his heart would flutter when you complimented him on his sets

Atsumu on the phone with you: yeah I’m just chillin’ with the boys rn 😏

Sakusa: get the fuck off my bed and get off the phone with your girlfriend so I can sleep

Atsumu: she’s not my girlfr-

Sakusa, talking loud enough for you to hear: I literally don’t care but don’t you have her picture saved as your lockscreen?

He tried to hook-up with someone when he was away playing a tournament in the summer, but it wasn’t the same and it was only good if he imagined it was you

He never did it again and before coming home for Christmas, he called Osamu to finally ask him what to do

Osamu: about time you meathead

Osamu literally spells it out to this man; he has been and is in love with you and he needs to do something about it asap before someone else snatched you away

Atsumu: why didn’t ya just say somethin’ ? Ya know I’m not good at these typa things !

I can’t he’s something else

So it’s Christmas, and he asks if you would want to go see the town square’s Christmas lights with him

Of course you say yes, you’re just really excited to finally see him after so long !!

Atsumu with rosy cheeks ugh spare me

He picks you up and greets you with a kiss to your temple, and he has a little gift baggie with him; he hands it to you to open and you pull out his old school cardigan

“I-I thought maybe you would want it since ya always stole it from me in high school, and since I’m half-way ‘round the world most of the time”

It smells just like him, you thank him with a kiss to his cheek and you tuck it away in your bedroom before leaving hand-in hand to see the colorful lights dazzling in the night sky

You talked to Osamu about your relationship with his brother and you want Atsumu to make a move honestly; you want to be sure he wants this since you’ve literally liked him since high school

You’re not sure what you are expecting, but when Atsumu has you in his arms, your back against his chest and his chin on your shoulder as you watch the Christmas carolers, you don’t expect him to whisper into your ear,

“hey, will ya be my girl?”

You turn around to give him a surprised look, his hand bringing yours to his mouth to plant a soft kiss on your knuckles this is his favorite place to kiss fight me

After getting over your dream-like shock, you say yes and pull him into a kiss

I’m crying he tells you afterwards that you were his girl since the first time he met you, we’ll let him have this one because did he really know until like a week ago? no

Whew, all of your friends and family let out a relieved sigh when they hear the news LMAO

Suna, hearing about Atsumu finally making it official: thank god I was about to start blackmailing him with those Halloween videos

[stories-by-rie]

Chapter 3 - Heart of Silver

Back in the present, Evelyn and Ariel search the house of the dead granny in order to find clues on how to stop the heart of silver curse.

words: 3614 || masterlist

Evelyn pulled in on the house’s driveway. Now that she knew that no one was living there anymore, she couldn’t deny the ghostly aura that hung on it. The windows were dirty, the geraniums in the windows dead and brown. The driveway was growing weeds all over, so unlike the tidy places of most older people. Even the magnolia tree looked glum now.

    “The whole house feels like death,” Ariel mumbled as they walked closer. “Must have been a pretty rich lady, though. Didn’t you say she didn’t have any money?”

    “It’s an old woman. She owned the house and couldn’t bear to separate from it. Believe me, she told me for nearly a whole hour how she wouldn’t move out because she couldn’t see it in someone else’s hands. The pension was just enough to cover for house and food, so she didn’t have much extra.”

    They came to a halt before the door that was cordoned off by the police, but Evelyn swiftly cut through the sticker.

    “You’ve become unscrupulous, huh,” Ariel said and stepped in behind her.

    “It’s your terrible influence,” Evelyn replied and turned on the lights.

    “This was probably a nice house once,” Ariel noted as they looked around. The ceiling was dark brown mahogany, the floor white marble tiles that looked quite expensive, but were covered with a great Persian carpet. Overall it seemed to have been a very grandiose house judging by its interior alone. There were shadows on the walls, where paintings or photos must have hung -- which perhaps had been sold in time. This was an impression that wasn’t new to Evelyn, as weren’t the spiderwebs in the corners and the dust on the decoration.

    “They probably used to have a lot of money back in the day. Judging from the silverware alone,” Evelyn agreed and pointed towards the dining room, the door still open from the day before. Ariel nodded along and they walked over the echoing tiles, over the old dusty rugs, quieter. There was a simple chandelier over the dinner table, dipping the small room in yellow light, spider webs between its bulbs.

    Evelyn walked over to the sideboard, opened the drawer where the silverware was neatly stashed on red velvet.

    “Fancy,” Ariel mumbled and looked at the spoons and knives and forks. “So which of these is the culprit?”

    Evelyn looked down, face blank. “I don’t remember.”

    “Didn’t you say that there was some kind of evil aura?”

“Very much so. It only missed evil green sparkles or something. But it just looked like a fork. Maybe too much like a fork? It definitely stood out somehow.” Evelyn looked down at the forks. None of it was missing, the cutlery was still neatly put in its satin cushion, but she still couldn’t make out the one that had been the medium to curse her. She still remembered the unsettling feeling that had overcome her at the sight of the whole drawer the last time around, shivers running down her spine. All of that was missing now.

    “Maybe it is because I sent the granny off? Or because the curse got activated?” she mused. Ariel crossed their arms before their chest.

“That’s both possible. Curses work in a whole lot of different ways, there are dozens of various classifications for how they are transmitted alone. If the medium isn’t working once the curse gets activated, and doesn’t even show signs of the curse, then it means that either the curse gets transmitted through the victim, or that the curse medium is randomised. Any kind of object could be the medium now if it’s not you.”

    Evelyn felt her limbs get heavier at those words. It was not the silver – not yet. It was the hope that left her in that moment. Somehow, it had been so easy in her mind. Ariel knew their curses. They knew how to break them.

    “So, what do we do no-”

    Evelyn didn’t even get to finish her question before Ariel took the first fork and poked their finger on it.

    “What are you doing?” her voice jumped an octave higher as Ariel tried the next one.

    “These aren’t exactly sharp, did it bleed when you poked your finger?”

    “No. Sort of? There was liquid silver when I pressed it. But- Why are you-”

    “Maybe it is just a hidden medium. Sometimes, when curses are especially deadly, to make sure the whole power goes into just that one victim, the medium hides its potential so that it won’t curse two people at the same time.”

    “Ah.” Evelyn stared at Ariel as they kept poking themselves with the forks. “So can it still curse you then?”

    “Depends. Potentially.”

    It was late and Evelyn was exhausted, so it took a while for her to understand those words’ meaning. Once she did, however, she quickly grabbed the fork out of Ariel’s hand and put it back.

    “Are you mad? What if you get cursed too?” With horror she looked at a reasonably startled Ariel who just shrugged.

    “Would definitely keep me motivated.” Their gaze dropped to Evelyn’s neck, then wrists where the dark silver veins were well hidden by her hoodie.

    “No. If you get sick you won’t be able to cure me anymore. You stay alive, preferably.” Evelyn closed the drawer and pinched the bridge of her nose.

    “Then how do you think I am going to find the right fork if it is just hiding?” At this point Ariel sounded a little exasperated, a fake smile on their dark purple lips.

    “Don’t you have some strange curse detector of sorts?”

    Ariel just shook their head. “Only nolly-powder and that’s really just for our last resort, okay? There are really, drastically awful side-effects, and we should not lose time because of them.” 

It was quiet in the dining room, only the platter of the rain against the windows -- it sounded spitefully soft now. The quiet of a house not lived in. Consequently, it was easy to hear the door fall shut.

    Both Evelyn and Ariel whipped around toward the back of the room, where the door was still wide open as they had left it.

    “Maybe above us?” Evelyn wondered with a toneless voice.

    “Did you not say you sent the granny off?” Ariel asked instead. They glanced at each other with the same uncertain look in their eyes.

    “I am really tired. I would honestly be happier if this was a burglar, and not a ghost. Or a Mare. Seriously, I couldn’t even handle an Elwetritsch today.”

    “Isn’t that last one just some super shy chicken with antlers?” Ariel had turned back to the forks and continued poking their finger.

    “Please don’t underestimate chicken nor antlers. But yes. They also can’t shut doors,” Evelyn said and sighed deeply. Maybe, if she ignored any kind of noises for long enough they would eventually disappear by themselves.

    Certainly, getting cursed didn’t seem bad enough for one day, though. So she flinched when there followed the sound of something heavy falling over – really heavy – somewhere in the house, even if it was not close by.

    “At this point, it would make more sense if it was a burglar,” Ariel said and walked back towards the hallway. Stairs lead up to the next floor on one side, a door right underneath that had to lead into the cellar.“Hey, let’s take bets. I say it’s a burglar, you say it’s a horned chicken. Winner gets ten Euros, deal?”

    “It’s called an Elwetritsch, and also I wouldn’t make deals with dying people if I were you, Ariel.”

    “That just sounds like you have no faith in my abilities at all.” They said it like a joke, but Evelyn knew them long enough now to understand what they actually meant. The way they weren’t looking up at her when they said it was telling enough.

    “I do trust you, Ariel. You know that right?” Evelyn looked at them, and when their eyes finally met, Ariel’s crinkled. “Just, the situation is driving me a bit on edge, that’s all,” she added.

    “Mh,” Ariel hummed, not in a way that indicated that they believed her. For now she ignored it, as she did the feeling of doubt in the pit of her stomach, and focused on Ariel instead when they pointed upstairs. “Let’s check in on the Elwetritsch?”

    Evelyn nodded and followed them up the stairs. Last time she had not gone that far deep into the house, and it seemed like the old woman who had lived here didn’t either. The dust laid heavily on the old furniture, even on the ground in a way that was easy to see in the dim light.

    “Doesn’t seem like she went here often.” Ariel wiped a finger over the dust and pulled a face. “This is going to make my allergies so bad.”

    “Maybe she was too old to walk many steps. Old people have bad joints, no?” Evelyn opened the door to her side, revealing a small bathroom that looked like it was ripped straight out of a 70s decoration advert. It smelled like old water and too much soap, the tiles a shade of orange that should be banned. 

    “It would be a good place for a burglar now that the house is officially empty, just that there are no signs of a living person anywhere. Not even chicken feet in the dust.” Ariel had kneeled on the ground staring at the floor from close up and squinted at the tiles. They sneezed. 

    “Maybe the noise came from the cellar then,” Evelyn wondered and walked over to the next door. Behind it, there was a children’s room. Posters of pop bands from the eighties still hung on the walls, the bookshelves empty but the bed still made ready. It poked at Evelyn, uncurled something inside her heart at the view.

    “She had her kid’s room ready for whenever they would come back home, it seems. That’s very nice.” And still no one had noticed the old woman’s death in such a long time. She must have been truly lonely. She walked over to the next room that was mostly empty.

    “Any chickens inside?” Ariel asked into the space – nothing answered. There were still curtains and a closet on the wall. A fainter colour in the shape of a bed on another wall.

    “This probably was the old bedroom. Maybe she had the bed brought downstairs at some point.” Evelyn walked over where there was still an impression of the bedposts in the old rug.

    “Okay, one more room, I am having the hunch that I will be disappointed regarding my expectations to see horned chicken today.”

    “Wait.” Evelyn turned back to Ariel who was just about to walk over to the next room. “Don’t you think this room feels weird?” she asked and Ariel just shrugged. But there was an undeniable shadow hiding in the corners, behind the curtains, inside the closet.

    “Feels like it does in your apartment. Like ghosts are trapped in here.”

    “There are no ghosts trapped inside my apartment,” Ariel refuted but walked closer to Evelyn as she went to open the closet door.

    “Are you good with ghosts?” they mumbled behind her back as she put her hand on the door knob.

    “Most of them. As long as I recognize them, yes.”

    Ariel chuckled a bit at her words, which gave her the courage to open the door. Behind, there was nothing. Nothing but shadows. Evelyn crunched down and now it was her turn to wipe with her finger through the dust.

    “And?”

    “Looks like there were ghosts here at least. Maybe it was the granny. There is residue mixed here. See? The grey ash?” She held her finger up for Ariel to see and they nodded.

    “Knew that dust looked funky.”

    “It’s when ghosts dissolve. They lose what could be considered their body. To the human eye it looks ashen. It also tends to darken shadows.”

    “Fascinating.”

    Evelyn looked up at Ariel with a raised eyebrow. “You had a class about this. You studied the same subjects as me at uni.”

    “That really is no reason for me to actually know this stuff.”

    Evelyn supposed that they had made a fair point and let the matter be, even if the confusion would not leave her. 

“The granny was still very lifelike when I saw her. She couldn’t have dissolved that much so quickly for us to find so much residue.”

“So, more ghosts?”, Ariel suggested and Evelyn gave a nod. There was only one more room on the floor, and she could not deny the rising anticipation. Before the door, they both hesitated, though. 

    “If there is no burglar in there, we should check the cellar next,” Evelyn mused and Ariel nodded and stepped back a bit, as if asking Evelyn to open the door first.

    “We should check the cellar either way, really. No matter what we find behind this door” she said and took a step back too. Ariel just sent their hand through their hair and pointed at the door.

    “You feel that there’s something behind this, too. Don’t you? It might be important, so we should really check this out. You go first.”

    Evelyn shook her head. “There is no reason I should go first. This is about curses, so you’re the go-to person. You should go first.”

    “It’s likelier that there’s a burglar behind this, or a horned chicken. That’s your area of expertise, so you should go first. I am far too fragile to be put in such a danger.”

    “Ariel, you were the one who went to attack a Mare back when we met, do you remember?”

    “Yes, and I have learnt and changed myself through that experience. More specifically, I have learnt that it should be you who deals with these kinds of matters. So after you.”

    Evelyn sighed deeply and then shrugged. “You know what? Fine. There’s no reason not to check out this room too. I can ignore some cold shudders down my spine, I am not that easily frightened.” Just as she put her hand on the door knob, though, the knob dissipated to dust right in front of her. Evelyn and Ariel exchanged a glance. “I feel like something doesn’t actually want us to enter this room.”

    “No shit.” Ariel stepped back even farther and then waved for her to move out of the way. Evelyn just managed to get far away enough before they tried to kick the door open. 

    A loud yelp, a loud bang when the door flew open, but nothing else happened, no monster jumping at them, no screaming ghost, and no attacking burglar either. In front of them was a simple study, filled with bookshelves and a big desk full of papers and letters.

    “I am slightly disappointed. That’s what I hurt my ankle for?” Ariel said as they stepped inside. Evelyn followed right after and couldn’t hide her slight awe. For a few seconds, the sight of the study overwhelmed her, a space that was clearly well cared for, a space that must have been so precious a long time ago. It was as obvious as it could be, small decorative figures on the shelf, a few letters framed on the wall. The only sign of neglect was the thick layer of dust on the books, even inside there. It was the few seconds in which Evelyn’s heart beat a bit lighter, forgetting about the fact that it pumped liquid silver through her body.

    The spell was broken as Ariel’s words settled in a bit late. “You hurt your ankle? Should we go and check with a doctor?” 

    “No, it’ll be fine. This is how devoted I am to curing you. Let’s check out these open letters and books, maybe we will find a clue about the curse,” Ariel whispered. They had a good point though, so they both started to work through what they could get in their hands.

    It didn’t take long until they realized what the old lady had used the study for.

    “She was looking into curses,” Evelyn said as she flipped through A Beginners Guide to Curses And How to Break Them.

    “Yeah. I found a conversation with a famous curse-broker from the sixties here. Apparently they were discussing some new phenomena that they thought were linked to curses.”

    “But she was not a curse-broker herself?” Evelyn wondered and Ariel shook their head.

    “If she had been, I would have known. Not a professional one, at least. Maybe she just was fascinated by them. Or maybe she had a victim in her family. A lot of people get into curses after one of their loved ones succumbs to one.”

    Evelyn continued to flip through the book before her until her fingers traced the photo of a boy in silver, shackled to a barn wall. A cold shudder ran through her then, made her recoil a bit before she flipped to the next page, where an equally familiar photo was printed.

    “Ariel, I am certain that this woman knew about the Heart of Silver curse. This book looks well read.”

    “You have it,” Ariel mumbled from behind her, their voice a bit thin. It nearly sounded as if they would start crying, which was a slightly unsettling thought.

    When Evelyn turned around, it was not Ariel who stood behind her. Instead, she stared right at the very dead eyes of a young boy. He was maybe fifteen years old, still already nearly as big as Evelyn herself. The startle nearly made her scream, but she could control herself just in time. Carefully, she tried to look around and find Ariel, but the boy just came closer, losing his body more and more.

    “Yes, I have. I have it,” Evelyn stuttered and held out the book to him. 

    “No. You have it,” the boy repeated, in the same manner, but he still sounded more powerful. His eyes dropped to her neck, where the black lines of her silver veins were visible the best. 

    “I do,” she agreed and pulled up her sleeves as well to bare her wrists. 

    “You should find what you really want,” the boy said with a sad tone in his voice, it sounded farther away than he was. So hollow.

    “I will. Thank you.”

    The boy still looked like there was more that he wanted to say, but when he opened his mouth next, there was no sound coming from him. Instead he just disappeared into thin air once more. Evelyn felt her whole body shake.

    “Oh! Look at what I found! That old granny won second place in a cooking show once!” Ariel yelled from across the room. Evelyn turned to them and the framed certificate in their hands.

    “Wow, you look as if you have seen a ghost.”

    Evelyn just stared at them from afar and pointed towards the dusty footprints before her.

    “There is a ghost in here.”

    The ash-like dust was still falling slowly like soft snow and landed before her feet -- the thought alone that the ghost was standing so close made her skin crawl. Ariel took off their glasses for a moment to narrow their eyes at where Evelyn was pointing.

    “I can’t see anything.”

    “The ghost is currently not showing his corporal form.”

    Ariel nodded and pushed the glasses back up their nose. “So it was a ghost, not a burglar or an Elwetritsch. At least as long as there isn’t anything weird in the cellar. What happens when neither of us win a bet? Do we both pay? You give me 10 euros and I give you 10 euros?”

    Evelyn decided to ignore the question and instead held up the book that was still in her hands.

    “The old lady knew about the curse. The ghost materialized for a moment when I talked about it. He said ‘You should find what you really want’, and then disappeared.”

    Finally, Ariel got a bit more serious and walked over.

    “That’s the same book as I have at home,” they mumbled and took it out of her hands. “So the old granny really knew some of those curses. I wonder if it’s just a coincidence, or if she was somehow tied to that curse especially.” They flipped through the pages not unlike Evelyn had done before, until they looked up again. “What is it that you really want, Evelyn?”

    “I want to get rid of this curse, of course, what do you think?”

    “What do you really want, must be the focus here, then. So, some kind of personal revelation might be the key to fulfilling the curse.”

    “Believe me, my thoughts and emotions are all set on staying alive. Maybe what he said was not related to the curse, though. It could be that he was just talking nonsense. Some ghosts lose control over their words with time,” Evelyn pointed out and with another glance at the ashen dust before her, she added, “This one has been dissolving for a long time now, from what it looks like. I bet he is the one leaving all the residue in the other rooms.”

    Ariel put down the book onto the desk and stared at the ashen footprints in front of Evelyn. “Better search the cellar then? Let’s find out a bit more about this granny that taught herself about curses, hid ghosts in her house, and cursed innocent ghost hunters after her death with her silverware, shall we?”

In lieu of nothing better to say, Evelyn agreed and carefully stepped around the ghost, out of the study.

____

previous chapter || WIP intro || masterlist || next chapter

[wolf-zer0]

Ya want some WORLD-BUILDING????

Have some world-building!

*REMINDER* This is based on characters, not real people.  I’m not going to be writing any shipping/smut content, especially involving minors.  Please be respectful of content creators’ boundaries!

The Crystallos Empire (AKA the Antarctic Empire)

Largest the countries (takes up most of the southern half of the map) but agreed to stop expansion after a bloody battle with Valeriana 

Centered on a large snowy mountain in the middle of the tundra 

Mostly stays out of other countries’ business, but will step in as a last resort 

Has some of the most well-known citizens in the world because… they’re pure chaos 

Attack at your own peril 

Has vast deposits of ores and gemstones, and the metalwork from Crystallos (mainly weaponry, armor, and jewelry) is highly sought after 

The only known food export is potatoes.  Wonder why… 

Associated Colors: Royal blue, light blue, crimson, gold 

Aesthetic/Vibes: gothic vibes, white stone and large stain glass windows, not particularly opulent or extravagant but still impressively royal looking, think catholic cathedral but brighter and with less Jesus (can you tell I’m a recovering catholic yet?), spires shooting into the sky that’s visible even during a blizzard, cavernous halls full of sunlight and echoes, snow that can comfort and kill in equal measure

Notable Members:

Philza Minecraft:

Angel

Visible wings look like a harpy eagle

Probably the most powerful person in the world

Didn’t mean to start an empire it kinda just happened

Also didn’t mean to adopt kids but his Dadza alarm went off

Usually kind but will not hesitate to use violence when necessary

Technoblade: 

Is pig.  

With braid.  

At least 8 feet all

Extremely adept fighter, skilled in almost every form of combat.  

Not a people pig, prefers his potato farm to being a prince

Hella protective of his family but will not hesitate to bully when given the opportunity

Wilbur Soot: 

Muse who can influence people through song

Can’t totally control people (yet) but can subtly push them in a certain direction

The public face of the imperial family

Would rather insult than fight but can and will cut a bitch if he needs to

Because inspiration is fickle he’ll have some … strange episodes (see: the Sand Incident)

Tommy Innit: 

Child.  

Chaos incarnate.

Is he human?  Is he not?  No one’s sure yet.  

But he’s a gremlin and a hellion and willing to throw down at any moment.  

Has a surprisingly caring side, but no one outside his immediate circle has ever really seen it.  

The Kingdom of Valeriana (aka Dream SMP)

Oldest of the countries 

Located in the middle of a massive forest at the center of the main continent 

Home of the Fae Courts

Ruled by a single king who is chosen by a tournament held every 100 years 

Known for causing chaos in other countries, but after an Incident with Crystallos they have kept their meddling to annoyances rather than outright declarations of war 

Considered the most magical of all the countries, and traditional enchantments almost all come from Valeriana 

Associated Colors: neon green (duh), bright yellow, forest green, light brown, blood red (more saturated than Crystallos), rose gold 

Aesthetic/Vibes: spooky art nouveau (idk what else to call it), lots of plants and nature but with an edge of danger, poison gardens and carnivorous plants, hedge mazes that lead everywhere and nowhere, laughter deep in the forest, deer with eyes just a hair too human, Alice in Wonderland on steroids 

Notable Members: 

Dream: 

Current king of the Fae

As long as he’s touching the ground, he knows where everything and everyone is

Can terraform

Unlimited in the boundaries of his kingdom

Much more limited outside of his realm

No one has ever seen what he really looks like, even before he took the throne

Since people outside the kingdom don’t know who he is, he’ll wander the outside world and challenge random people to fights

Never says what happens to the losers

Only one person has ever beaten him: Technoblade

He might have a lil obsession around Techno, but it’s fine.  

A little competition is healthy.

Sapnap:  

High Lord of the Summer Court

Dream’s right hand man

Likes fire a little too much probably

George: 

Human that Dream took a liking too and yoinked from the mortal world

Dream and Sapnap made him immortal but he hasn’t realized it yet.  

Skeppy: 

Changeling who started growing diamond-like scales across his body

Is vaguely allied with Dream simply because he’s Fae, but is more loyal to BBH

Like a lot of other Fae, likes to make challenges but he makes them less deadly.  Not totally safe, just less deadly.

Badboyhalo: 

Demon who was kicked out of hell because he was too nice

Found Skeppy in the Overworld and the rest is history

Cursed by the Demon King that the moment he says a swear word, the entire world would end, but can never tell anyone that he is cursed

The Merchant’s Guild

Not quite a country, more of a international power 

Oversees the largest and most important businesses in the world 

Makes sure that no laws are broken between different countries and everyone gets a fair shake 

Has a very large reach, so some members have dabbled in espionage for various groups 

From the outside it looks like the whole thing is kept together with duct tape and hope, but its actually pretty functional

The main members are just… a lot. 

More concerned with keeping things working than influencing other nations (although there are still jokes about it) 

The most valuable thing they trade in is information

They have a lot of fingers in a lot of pots, but are trusted with their information 

Associated Colors: dark blue, teal, deep yellow, burnt orange, copper

Aesthetic/Vibes: art deco babie, angles and lines, very modern and streamlined, sleek suits instead of armor or robes, whiskey in a crystal glass, wars won by words not weapons, knowing when someone’s lying without them saying a word

Notable Members:

Schlatt: 

Ram-man with a plan

Not that bad of a dude, but is in a position where he is constantly in possession of highly sensitive information and that does things to someone’s mental state

Drinks pretty regularly but not a full blown alcoholic

Trying his best

Can be a snarky asshole sometimes

Quackity: 

Lucky duck.  literally.  

Duck man with an uncanny ability to absorb good luck from people (typically Fundy) and apply it to himself

No one knows when or why he joined the guild, but now he’s there

Pretty damn smart, but hides it behind humor

Fundy: 

FOX!  

With BEANS!

Trying his goddamn best but life (and Quackity) make it very difficult

Usually is stuck with the shit end of the stick when getting jobs/contracts/etc. 

Wilbur being his dad is an inside joke that’s gotten a life of its own.  

(No Fishfuckers Allowed!!!)

Puffy: 

Badass sheep lady who captains a ship and commands her own armada

Schlatt’s sister

Also part of Storm’s Landing’s council and acts as the main liaison between them 

Do not fuck with her she will kick your ass.

Storm’s Landing

Port city that became a country after becoming a safe-haven for seafarers

Led by a council of important people, with the head of the council known as the Admiral 

Closest ties to Crystallos and the Merchant’s guild because: 

1) Clingy supremacy!!!!

2) it’s a good idea for a guild to have good ties with a large sea power

3) all the dads for Tubbo

Associated Colors: navy blue, scarlet, white, brass 

Aesthetic/Vibes: Nautical (obviously) with heavy “Age of Exploration” vibes, barnacles crusted on treasure chests, think tall ships and pirates and shit, respecting the ocean because holy shit she’s gonna smash your boat to pieces on a whim because she can, has an edge of darkness because when you go deep enough who knows what you’ll find down there (maybe mermaids???) 

Notable Members:

CaptainSparklez: 

elected to Admiral after the previous Admiral went missing on a routine voyage 

(idk who it used to be, I just wanted to make him new at leading)

not 100% sure about the whole thing, but handling it pretty okay

still answers to “Captain” instead of “Admiral”.  

Niki:

If Storm’s Landing had a queen, would be it unquestionably

Never gets robbed even though there’s a well known “underbelly” in town

Could probably end wars with her croissants

Has a significant history of empathic abilities in her family, so she can tell how people are feeling at all times

Eret: 

Owns a magic store in town that really only shows itself to people who need it.  

Having a bad mental health day?  

He’s got a warm blanket and a cup of your favorite warm beverage waiting.  

Dysphoric?  

She’s got the perfect outfit and affirming words already prepared.  

Trying to find that specific book but can’t remember the title or plot, only vaguely know the color of the cover?  

They’ve got it.  

Ranboo:  

Not sure why he decided to move to a seaside city when he’s not chill with water, but now he’s here and he’s too anxious to leave

Known for teleporting around town randomly when nervous, and the people who find him are always willing to let a hand if he gets lost

Tubbo: 

This boi!  Has so many dads!  

Epitome of “Kindness does not equal weakness.”  

While a lot of people underestimate him, he’s not some fragile little flower

He hasn’t fully grown into his ability to speak to animals (he can only understand bees right now)

He’s just as much of a shit stirrer as Tommy.  

When they meet up, look out.  Something’s getting destroyed.

The Astral Academy

An independent university focused on advancing knowledge in the arcane arts and engineering 

Not a country, but has the political power of one due to their vast resources and building prowess 

People can’t enter unless they are invited or have been given entry as a student 

There are a bunch of potential doors scattered around the continent that could lead to the Academy, but no one is sure where the real entrance is 

Associated Colors: royal purple, lilac, sepia, sky blue, silver, bronze Aesthetic/Vibes: bright academia, massive libraries with bookshelves stuffed to bursting, workshop benches covered in scrap and prototypes, open air observatories, runes waiting to be translated, the crackling energy that comes from successful collaboration, falling down a research rabbit hole, bursting with pride after a project is a success

Notable Members: 

Sam

Purpled

Ponk

Punz

Antfrost

Jack Manifold

I don’t know much about these characters, so if you have any ideas please let me know!

Zero’s OC Land - The North Haven

Smallest and newest country 

Recently gained independence from under a cruel dictator (not schlatt lol)

Located in a pine forest at the base of a huge mountain range 

Has pretty good relations with the other countries, but outsiders don’t know much about them 

Main exports are wood carvings and leather goods 

Associated Colors: Maroon, dark brown, black, pewter 

Aesthetic/Vibes: medieval but with a modern twist, dark wood lit by a roaring fireplace, snow-covered woods without a living soul in sight, half timber houses and detailed wood carving, no outrageous ornamentation or extravagance 

Notable Members:

Tyr: 

Lord of the North Haven

trying to keep his people safe and protected

one of the few remaining Spirits (higher in power than the Fae, but lower than angels)

Spirit of Justice

lost a hand in the war for North Haven’s independence

didn’t want to become the leader but does a pretty good job at it

Adopted 5 kids and is trying his best

Bragi: 

Heir Apparent

24 year old human

can influence the world by speaking (not singing) but has to be careful about which words he uses

has a book full of phrases that have proven effects (a spellbook of sorts)

has a friendly rivalry with Wilbur

Freya: 

Spymaster

actually the oldest but abdicated because she feels she’s not the right person to lead a country

age unknown because she’s the last known [REDACTED] (it’ll be revealed, but I wanna build suspense)

has gyrfalcon wings and heightened senses

chronic insomniac

Forseti: 

Official Librarian

20 years old

hybrid with an unknown entity

has black fingers with sharp claws

always wears gloves to hide them

can create portals to places he’s been or to people he knows (the second is much riskier, but not impossible)

knowledge sponge

wants to join the Astral Academy but is too nervous to apply

Odin: 

Older Twin

The “Sensible One”

17 years old

Has an uncanny sense of direction

Can’t get lost no matter what

Can manipulate magnetic fields

Loki:

Younger Twin

The “Hot Headed One”

17 years old

can manipulate fire

idolizes his older siblings, particularly Freya

The Institute

Creeping around in the background

Up to bad things

Something’s going on in the world, but no one’s noticed yet

They will though… soon

Aesthetic/Vibes: minimalism (the worst kind of vibes imo), think laboratories or empty hospitals, harsh artificial lights and cold floors, labyrinths of monotonous hallways with no doors

[collecting-stories]

Sex on the Beach - c. 06 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: You return to the vacation house to pack up your stuff.

A/N: I wrote this in like...45 minutes 😂 The re-write is complete...now for the last two chapters.

Holiday in the Sun Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

The room they gave you at the resort was nice, overlooking the waterpark and the ocean, twenty stories above the ground. Not as crisp white as the Nassau House had been but not quite a Hilton. You called your dad after you checked in to tell him that you had an argument with your mom and that was why you had charged the room to your allowance card, something he was perfectly okay with because that meant you liked him more for the moment.  

“Divorced parents are something else.” You commented, flipping through the room service menu. You were starving, in part from not eating for an entire day, and were happy to be getting something that wasn’t dictated by your mom. “My dad was like ‘do you need more money?’...he always wants to be the favorite.”

“Ask him if he can get us our stuff back.” Rafe joked, emerging from the bathroom with the pair of shorts you’d bought in the giftshop on, they were gray and had an Atlantis emblem on the one corner.  

“Did you try to get a hold of Sarah?” You asked, scooting over in bed as he sat down next to you. His hair was still wet from the shower and when he pushed it out of his face little droplets of water hit your shoulder and cheek.

“Yeah, she said ‘get your shit yourself’...real fucking helpful.” He grumbled.  

“I mean, your dad is a nightmare. If I was her, I don’t know if I’d want to risk having him flip out either. Especially since they’re stuck there for the rest of the week.” You replied.

“So what’s your plan?”

“Ask Wheezie when they’re going to be out and stop by to get our stuff?” You suggested, “I still have the spare key you told me to hang on to. We could just go in and get our things and leave.”  

“No, no.” He stood up and you watched as he paced for a moment before seeming to come to some sort of decision, “I’m not fucking hiding out from him.”

“You can’t just walk in there Rafe, he’ll be pissed!” You pointed out, “I really don’t think you should cause any more trouble-”

“The boat was his!”

“I’m not saying it was your fault but maybe just don’t provoke him.” You replied, “who knows what he’ll do.”

Rafe was silent for a moment and you almost thought he was starting to calm down, maybe come around to your side of the issue and realize what it was that he would be jeopardizing if he went back to the Nassau house and tried to have it out with his father. But a second later you jumped as his fist slammed against the dresser and he stormed back into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him. You weren’t sure what to say, how to ease the situation or make Rafe anything but angry at his dad.  

“I’m gonna go down to the cafe, do you want anything,” you called through the bathroom door. You waited a minute for Rafe to answer but there was only silence from the other side of the door. “Rafe?”

“I don’t want anything.” He snapped.

The door to the room swung shut behind you and you walked down the long hall to the elevators. There was a little mini lobby, a room with ice and vending machines, two benches and a wall of mirrors that reflected back your exhausted appearance. You sat down on one and pulled your phone out of your pocket, calling your mom.  

“Where the hell are you?” She practically screeched through the phone and you rolled your eyes. Not the supportiveness that you were unrealistically hoping for but maybe you could mold her into someone half willing to understand.  

“I’m at Atlantis with Rafe, I’m using dad’s allowance money for a room.”

“That’s just like your father, swooping in to “help” as if you’re in trouble.” She bitched.  

“We need our stuff-”

“You are not staying with some boy unsupervised-”

You cut her off, “mom. We need our stuff,” you repeated, hoping that she would be more moldable to your cause. “Is there a time we could come get it?”

“Exactly what do you expect me to do? Pack up your things for you and have them waiting by the door? You are serious trouble young lady! You stole someone’s boat. And what’s more? You were rude and disrespectful and ungrateful to Mr. Cameron.” She complained.  

“I’m not staying in that house for the rest of vacation, pretending everything is okay. And Rafe’s not coming back either. So can we get our stuff or not?” You asked.

“Being rebellious isn’t worth your future. You’re supposed to be thinking ahead. What about college?”

“That’s two years away.” You argued, “I already sent applications, I’ve applied for scholarships, nothing is changing about college. But I’m not spending the rest of my vacation in a house with a man who assaulted me!”  

“Well maybe you can buy new stuff.” She replied, the line going dead immediately after. You listened to the click off and pulled your phone away from your ear to look at the home screen. She’d hung up on you, unsurprising but not the result you wanted.  

You said you were going down to the cafe so you did, grabbing an iced coffee and heading back up to your room in hopes that Rafe had cooled down enough. When you reentered the room he was laying on the bed, sprawled on his stomach with his head turned toward the window. He didn’t move when you came in and you placed your coffee on the nightstand, climbing onto the bed and sitting cross-legged beside him.  

“Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately.” He grumbled.  

“I think you got sunburn,” you mentioned, eyeing the harsher red of his shoulders, “or is that still from the shower.”

He didn’t answer, only pushed his face further into the pillow. You reached a hand out, laying it flat on the middle of his back. When he didn’t move, but also didn’t seem to protest, you leaned over kissing the red on his shoulders and beginning to gently rub his back.  

“I called my mom.”

“You have shitty news delivery skills.” He replied, shifting over so he laying on his back. You followed his movement with your hand, your fingers brushing over his abs as they tensed beneath your touch.  

“She basically said ‘screw you and your stuff’. So I guess you were right, we’ll have to go there.” You replied, “though I still think going while Ward is there might not be the best idea ever.”  

“I just don’t even wanna think about all that shit tonight.” Rafe huffed.  

“Oh well, I can totally help with that.”

-

It was earlier the next morning that Sarah texted saying that she and Topper could pack up your stuff and Rafe’s and drop it at the resort. A feasible and preferred plan to Rafe’s, going back in that house and provoking his dad would do nothing positive for their relationship or for the vacation. You knew Rafe was pissed and that he would likely stay pissed until he confronted his father but you urged him not to go to that Nassau house. Though your urging proved in vain because his promise to take you to dinner soon turned into a drive down the road to his family house, the two rentals in the driveway signaling that everyone was home.

“Rafe!” You practically hissed as you jumped out of the car, following him to the door, “what the fuck are you doing?”

The sentiment was repeated by Ward as the two of you entered the house, everyone sitting at the table for dinner looking up in shock at the sight of the two of you. You wanted to run back outside and drive away, or sink into the floor and disappear.  

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Getting my stuff.” Rafe replied, already heading for the hallway while you just waited by the door, frozen, “don’t mind me though, keep having your nice family dinner.”

Ward was quick. He made it around the table and put himself between Rafe and the hallway leading to your rooms, blocking his son from getting to them. You weren’t sure what to do. In favor of not making eye contact with your mom or step-dad you had locked eyes with Topper, who was mouthing a ‘what is he doing’ to you as if you were any more clued in to the situation than anyone else. Was this what you wanted? To be the supportive backbone for someone that you barely knew because you had been crushing on him since you were thirteen and he paid you just the slightest bit of attention on a vacation that would’ve otherwise been hell. What was your motivation? That you liked him...that he liked you and that was just everything you’d ever wanted so you desperately were following him around.

“Get out of my way!” Rafe’s voice pulled you back and you looked over at him and Ward.

“I don’t hear from you for two days, no idea where either of you are...we’re all worried sick, and this is how you treat us? Show up here and waltz in like nothing is wrong, demanding your things?” Ward snapped.

“I called my mom after we checked in...I’m sure she let everyone know where we were.” You replied, “not to mention, you sitting down to eat doesn’t look like you’re too broken up about any of this.”

“You ungrateful bitch-”

“Hey!” Rafe cut his dad off, shoving him just enough that Ward stumbled back. You felt your whole body tense. You needed to get out of this room and this house and, preferably, off this island. This was nuts, this wasn’t permanent. “Don’t talk to her.”

He pushed passed Ward, knocking his shoulder with his dad’s as he headed down the hall toward his bedroom. You knew that you should follow but your feet felt glued to the spot, like you weren’t sure how to make them work anymore. Sarah got up from the table without warning and disappeared down the hall, coming back a moment later with your duffel and suitcase.  

“I already packed them yesterday.” She said, passing them to you.

“Thanks.”  

Before Sarah could say anything else the shouting from Rafe’s room got louder. Worried, you left your bags by the door and headed into the hallway to see what was going on. Rafe was at the door of his room, completely red-faced, mid-screaming at Ward, louder now that you were standing there, and very much close to tears. Ward was shouting at the same time and even in the room you felt like you could barely make sense of what was being said. It was like walking into something that you had no right to witness.  

“Rafe,” you weren’t sure he heard you over the screaming but you placed your hand on his back and it seemed to bring him back into reality as he looked back at you, breathing heavy and labored.  

“I swear to god Rafe, you walk out that door and there isn’t a place for you at home.” Ward threatened.

He paused and you almost expected him to turn and apologize or call the whole thing off and decide to stay here. Miserable, sure, but at least he wouldn’t be homeless. But instead he grabbed his stuff and walked out the door passed you.  

“Happy?” Ward asked, gaze meeting yours across the room. You heard Rafe call your name from the living room and you looked toward the sound before glancing back at Ward. If you lied, you were sure he could tell. So instead, you said nothing, grabbing your luggage and heading for the door.  

You knew you should’ve been happy, in a way. Rafe was basically choosing you over his family and wasn’t that some kind of oddly romantic thing? Except all you felt was a pit in your stomach, eating up whatever feelings you had other than dread, leaving you feeling empty. He was walking away from his dad and his home and you weren’t even sure how you actually felt about him.  

Wheezie followed both of you out to the car and you put your bags in while Rafe swore to her that nothing bad was going to happen. “Dad and I just need time to cool off,” he promised.  

“But you said we would spend vacation together!” She insisted. He had promised her, before they even left the OBX.  

“And we will. I’m not breaking that promise okay?” He hugged her and then walked around the car, getting in the driver’s seat.

You got in the car, trying to ignore the glare that she sent your way. Just when you were starting to gain favor with Wheezie you’d fucked it up again by taking her brother from her. You wanted to apologize and, honestly, you wanted to be in Provincetown with your friends. A nice, drama free vacation...not this mess.  

-

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[btsmutimagines]

high stakes. (M)

Finally finished phew

Yes, I’m a hoe for blue haired Taehyung leave me alone

Word Count: 8.1k (oof)

Warnings: Light spanking? Oral (giving/recieving), dirty talk, Taehyung

V.

The 22nd letter of the alphabet to some, to others he was a powerful man. A man who pulled the strings of his many associates that obeyed every command. He was a mysterious figure, a man whose face hasn’t been seen by many but very few described him.

Some say he’s a foreigner that settled in Seoul, on the run from the international authorities. Some say he was a tall muscular man who used to be a hitman before chasing his ventures. Some say V wasn’t even a man at all, but a woman.

You didn’t know the truth behind V either, opting out of the rumour mill that clouded the name. It wouldn’t help you anyhow as you were a mere gambler, spending parts of your paycheck on roulette and the occasional slot machine. You liked playing against dealers, calculating every move that you could make and the rush when you make a small payout from a simple game.

Gambling can be beautiful; the sweet taste of victory could overwhelm the senses and lead to people scrambling for any cash on them to keep playing. You could watch desperate men begging for a rematch, screaming that they had to be cheating because there was no way they could lose.

Of course, you knew they’re being outplayed by the dealer, but the addiction eroded their ability to see their reality.

You haven’t gone off the deep end yet but tonight, you were feeling lucky.

You walked over to a table, a game just about to start and took the empty seat in the middle. You made eye contact with the dealer, Hongjoong, he was rarely on shift here. Made you wonder what the occasion was.

“Count me in.”

“Ah, Miss Y/N, you look lovely tonight.”

“Thank you. It’s been a while since I last saw you.” You rested your head on top of your hands as your elbows sat on the edge of the table.

“Been busy, you know how it is. How much?”

“I’m feeling 75 tonight.”

“Alright.” You placed your stack down, along with the others and watched the pit boss walk over and counts the cash. Your lovely stack of chips was placed in front of you as Hongjoong started dealing the cards.

You quietly watched, glancing at everyone’s cards and he finally dealt himself a card. 13, huh.

Hongjoong had a 10. The man to your right had an ace and a six, a hand you had to watch out for.

He started from the left, the first two chose to stand, you hit, Hongjoong dealt you a card, giving you a 7 and you stood. All you needed was the cards to fall as they may, you had the upper hand here.

You grinned to yourself as the other members of the table reluctantly pushed their stacks towards you.

“Another round, Miss?”

“I can’t see why not.” New faces joined, none that you bothered to concern yourself with. After all, all you had to do was win.

And win, you did.

With all the chips you had, you could build yourself a castle and no player around you were none the wiser.

“Count me in.” You heard, a man saying close to your ear as he took the empty seat next to you. He felt cold, the room dropping a few degrees as he spoke. Any weak-willed player would back out instantly, but you were more than that.

Besides, you could remember the last time you came close to a man as pretty as he was. Dare you to say, he might just be as pretty as you.

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A man spoke, one that just lost a round to you. Sore loser.

“Anyone that plays a round with her loses.”

“I bet she’s cheating.” Tch. You shoot the man a glare, him retreating and you heard a chuckle.

“I don’t remember asking for advice, especially from a man who just lost.”

“Dealer, I’m betting double of what she’s got.”

“S-sir.”

“You hear me clearly, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” Has Hongjoong ever stutter like that?

“And who might you be, Miss?” He took your hand, bringing it to his lips and you stared in shock. His pinstriped suit fit him perfectly, his dress shirt unbuttoned enough to give you a peek at his defined collarbones.

Taking in the image of him staring at you almost knocked you off your seat. Is it possible for a man to be this handsome or was it the trick of the light?

No, you mustn’t be swayed by his appearance. It was a ploy to play with your focus, all that matters is dealing a blow to his confidence. And that starts with your next words.

“The woman who is about to win.”

“Is that so? I like that response.”

“You want to lose?”

“I never lose.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Start the game, dealer.” The man said, not taking an eye off you and Hongjoong began to deal out cards.

You noted the cards of those around you, making sure to stand when you were sure that you had this in the bag. Despite the man sitting next to you, you still had no clue to what he could have.

You briefly glanced at him, meeting his ominous eyes for a moment and quickly looked away. It felt like he was reading you, opening up parts of you that you purposely kept hidden with the blink of his eye.

As if the more you walled off, the more he broke down with such ease.

It was unnerving, to say the least.

“Stand.”

“Stand.” He parroted, you scoffed. You placed your cards down, having yourself a lovely 19 and glanced around the table until your eyes landed on the cards of the man next to you.

A perfect 21.

“Would you look at that? A Blackjack.” You watched as the chips were pushed his way. His smirk at you mocked you as you received your wager.

“It was nice playing with you, Miss. Hope we meet again sometime.” He threw a wink at the end, taking his earnings with him and you only watched him walk away with the last word.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You stabbed your salad, taking a large bite and chewing to yourself. So maybe the thought of that man stewed in your mind longer than you thought. His domineering presence lingered around you like a cloud, making you wish for clear skies.

Those handsome features were distorted by his supercilious attitude, it was a shame.

“Uh oh, who’s next on your hit list? Is it Lisa again?”

“No, but she’s still on thin ice.”

“I hope you’re joking about that.” Your friend, Soyou laughed as she took the seat in front of you.

“And if I wasn’t?”

“Then, HR.”

“Those clowns? They would make me write an apology letter and call it a day.”

“Police?”

“It was a joke, So, I didn’t think you would turn on me like that.”

“So, now it’s a joke?” You took another bite of your salad, smiling at her and she rolled her eyes at you.

“So, what’s really on your mind?”

“There was a man…”

“Was he handsome?”

“Does it matter?”

“I mean hot guys can pretty much get away with anything.”

“You mean, hot, rich guys do. Wait, that’s not the point!”

“Hey, his hotness is a factor in this.”

“How so?”

“Since he’s stirring you up this much, he’s at least pretty.”

“It wasn’t that kind of encounter.”

“Then?”

“He beat me at Blackjack.”

“He’s a dealer?”

“No, he was a player at the table.”

“I thought blackjack was between you and the dealer?”

“It is but I’m usually the one to win my wager in my rounds and this man defied that.”

“And? Did you lose?”

“No.”

“So, why does it matter?”

“Because.”

“Y/N, you need to use your words, honey.”

“Because he smirked at me as he did. Like he knew that he would win his bet regardless of the outcome of me winning my wager or not.”

“Again, why does that matter?”

“I have a reputation to upkeep there, the Weeper they call me.”

“Weeper?”

“Because any man who plays in any game with me is bound to weep.”

“Makes you sound like a villain, you know. Some of these men are gambling their livelihoods.”

“Then, they’ve already lost.” Soyou opened her mouth to say something but closed it, resorting to eating her lunch as you finished yours.

You knew how cold you sounded but those words were a truth that not many wanted to admit.

You’ve seen it with your own eyes.

And who were you to do anything about it? You were a simple office worker who always had time to kill after work. Maybe you could be like others who drink with co-workers or spend night binging Netflix’s extensive catalogue but you like the thrill.

Watching on bated breath as you gambled, whether it was slots, roulette, poker. As long as Lady Luck was on your side, who could stop you?

So once again, you slipped into one of your nicer gowns, your fanciest heels and strutted into the casino.

The atmosphere was to your liking, fewer people than normal but the stacks seemed higher.

“Ah, why isn’t the young Miss from the other night?”

“Oh, it’s you.” As if he came to ruin your mood, the man appears. He wore a slick white suit this time, the flaps as black as the colour of his hair and you crossed your arms.

“Not quite the reaction I would have liked, to be truthful.”

“What makes you believe I would be happy to see you?”

“Why, I can tell you can’t get me out of your mind at least. Whether it’s out of hate or love doesn’t matter.”

“You’re such a strange man.”

“Oh?”

“Why would you remember me?”

“Why wouldn’t I? After all, you’re the woman they call the Weeper. Is that not true?”

“Is that so?”

“Being coy, aren’t we? I thought it was because one look at your face would make a grown man cry.”

“Very funny.”

“But seeing how beautiful you are, it must be your skill.” He tilted your chin; you slapped his hand away and began walking past him.

“Don’t mock me.” You spat, him making no haste to catch up to you.

“I mean not to, Miss. I was merely intrigued by your reputation. The Weeper, enemy of men.”

“You make me sound like a villain.”

“Only repeating the rumours. And yet you were no match for me.”

“We weren’t competing.”

“Au contraire, bunny, I ruined your perfect streak, did I not? Any man who plays against you is bound to lose his wager. Yet I have not.”

“You’re just an irregularity. That’s all.”

“Sounds like you can’t accept your losses.”

“Now, you’re taunting me.”

“Does it sound like that?” He grabbed your wrist, pulling you against the side of a slot machine and you squirmed.

“Want to make a bet?” Those words, spoken as if they were a spell meant to enchant you led you to a roulette table. The dealer of the table looked nervous as the two of you had placed your bets and he smirked at you.

Gosh, how you’ve grown to hate that look in a short amount of time.

Best two out of three, you reminded yourself. If you won, it would mean his win was just an off round. If he wins, he wanted something from you. You tried to press him from more than ‘something’, but he wouldn’t budge beyond that.

Just two wins and you can watch his smirk be washed away.

Roulette was a game of luck and chance, still, you were up against the odds as you glanced at where you placed your chips.

“No more bets.” The dealer spun the wheel, dropping the ball as it joined the wheel in spinning before it landed in its spot.

“31, black.”

“That’s mine, isn’t it?”

“You sure do like to gloat.”

“Because it winds you up so perfectly, I can’t wait to unravel it all myself.”

“You talk as if something were going to happen between me and you.”

“I’m just going to have to get something will.” You regret agreeing to this stupid bet for a moment, it’s becoming clear to you that the game you were actually playing had nothing to do with the spinning roulette table.

“14, red.” You held back a grin, settling for giving him a look before turning your eyes back to the table.

If you could wish on all your lucky stars for this to land on any number you bet on, you did. After a silent prayer, you waited for the dealer’s words.

“21, red.”

“Oh, isn’t that ironic? Isn’t that where we first met?”

“Fuck you.”

“I wish you would, bunny.”

“Forget this.” You got up from the table, the man reaching for your wrist again and you cursed as he gripped hard. Would he just leave you alone?

“Now, bunny, you made a bet with me. Isn’t the honourable thing to do to fulfill your end of it?”

“Isn’t you winning enough for you? You have bragging rights now, just satisfy yourself with that.”

“No. I don’t need that.”

“Then, what is it? Spit it out.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You stuffed your head in a pillow as Soyou sat on the edge of your bed.

“He asked you out?”

“I don’t understand this man at all. One minute, he’s taunting me, the next he’s flirting with me. Is he a sadist?”

“Wouldn’t it make you a masochist for going out with him?”

“Who said I was going?”

“Weren’t you the one going on about reputations?”

“Well, that’s tainted now. So, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But, aren’t you at least curious about him?”

“And why would I be?”

“He’s hot from how you described him, he’s rich since he can gamble his life away so easily and he gambled like you, so there’s a shared interest between you two. Hey, if you snag him, you could just use him to gamble for you. It’ll be a definite win.”

“So, he’s probably toying with me-” You heard your phone vibrate next to you, raising it to wake and seeing a message.

Hey, bunny, dress casually and don’t be late. I don’t like waiting.

“He calls you a pet name already?”

“I don’t even know why he calls me that either. Makes me want to punch him square in the nose.”

“Well, don’t. It’ll ruin the atmosphere of the date.”

“I’m not going!”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You spoke too soon when you got to the address that he gave you, seeing it was a café. Soyou dragged you out of bed, essentially forcing you into going. She even dared to slip a condom in your purse as if you were going to use it. And with him, of all people.

“You came?”

“Expecting to get stood up?”

“I see you’re sharp as ever, bunny.”

“I have an actual name, you know.”

“Which you have yet to tell me if you haven’t noticed.”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Taehyung.”

“Hm, your name means ‘all wishes will come true’ huh? Explains your ridiculous luck.”

“Didn’t know you were into things like that.”

“No, I just need something to explain how I lost to you twice.”

“You should let that go, it’s not good for your health, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes, opening the door to the café and seeing a rabbit hopping in front of you.

“Look, it’s your kind.”

“Very funny, Taehyung.”

“But it’s so cute.” He scooped one into his arms, petting it and you watched as it melted under his touch.

“Don’t worry, I can give you head pats too.” He petted your head, his large hand felt warm, but you were annoyed by the casual skinship.

“Ah, thank you customer for catching him! He managed to get out.” A staff member bowed to the two of you and took the rabbit from Taehyung.

“I felt a bond forming with him.”

“You can go out with him instead if you’d like?”

“And miss the chance to spend an afternoon with a beautiful woman? I think he can wait.”

“How many women have you fed that line to?”

“I never had a woman competing with a rabbit before so, none?”

“I’m not competing-”

“It’s okay, Y/N, I’m joking. Let’s order?” He asked, you walked up to the counter with him and ordering your lunch.

You glanced at the rabbits, making eye contact with a small brown rabbit. He hopped close to his gate, you crouched in front and paused. You weren’t quite sure how to approach a rabbit.

A staff member opened his gate for you, letting the little creature hop out and you stayed still.

“You have to show him your hand, bit off to the side so he can see it.” Taehyung was crouched next to you as you followed his instructions.

“Okay.” He began to sniff your hand, you allowed him until he got closer to you.

“I think he wants to go pet him. Go for the cheeks.” You nodded, stroking his cheek and he closed his eyes. It felt like he nuzzled into your touch as you continued to pet him, and you smiled.

“I had no idea you were well versed in rabbits.”

“My grandparents had a farm, they kept rabbits. I can still remember getting nipped by one of the dominant ones.”

“Did it hurt?”

“A bit, he had a nasty bite. But I learned.”

“What else did they have?”

“The usual, chickens and cows. Gramps grew apples and oranges too. When I was born, my grandparents planted an apple tree that day. Every summer, I would check on it and see it grew taller than me.”

“You were competing with a tree, Taehyung.”

“It’s silly but I hate to lose.”

“You were bound to.”

“Unfortunately.” You laughed, Taehyung giving you an incredulous look.

“I pour part of my life story to you and you laugh.”

“Because it’s hard to imagine you competing with nature of all things. Don’t tell me you marked it in your house too?”

“And what if I did?”

“Then, you’re stranger than I thought. Acting all seductive and dominant when you’re a big softie.”

“If I were that one dimensional, that would be boring as fuck. After all, being a one-trick pony wouldn’t let me win, would it?”

“Spoken like a true gambler.”

“Even now, I’m making a wager.”

“On what?”

“Well, it’s not fun if I tell you.”

“Couldn’t let go of the teasing, huh?”

“Of course not, bunny.” You rolled your eyes, getting up as your order was called. The two of you carried your food to an empty table, the meal you ordered was in the shape of a rabbit. A sandwich neatly cut into one with a side of fries.

“That’s oddly perfect.”

“I mean it is the Tokki café, Taehyung.”

“To get the ears so perfectly matched.”

“You’re oddly fascinated by this.”

“Are you not?”

“More curious about you.”

“I like the sound of t-” You stuffed a bite of your sandwich in his mouth, you watched him chewing said bite.

“I thought we start feeding each other on the fourth date at the earliest.”

“I guess we’re moving fast.”

“Mhm.” It was the only thing he mustered, beginning to eat his meal as you ate yours. You patted a napkin around your mouth, careful to not smudge your lipstick and Taehyung kept his eyes on you.

“If you have something to say, you can say it. I don’t think I have telepathy.”

“Just thinking about how I can make this day longer.”

“Did you read some pick-up artist books before coming here?”

“Tch, those books are just for desperate people who can’t flirt.”

“Who knows, maybe they’ll teach you about subtlety.”

“Subtlety? I know what I want and go after it, simple.”

“And if it doesn’t work?”

“I don’t give up if that’s what you’re asking.” Of course, a man like him would chase until the very end. You met him at a casino for goodness sake. A place where people can put up their homes, cars, livelihoods for a chance to win.

Why would he be any different?

“Unless I know for sure there’s no chance. I also don’t like wasting my time, Y/N.”

“Neither do I.”

“Then, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” You jogged to catch up with him, stopping when he got in front of a rather expensive car.

“Ladies first.” He opened the passenger door, you hesitated before getting in and he got into the driver seat a few moments later.

“This isn’t where you drive me to some unknown fields and kill me or something.”

“We’re downtown, Y/N, also I’m not from here. So, if anything, we’re more likely to get lost in the city.”

“And you don’t have a GPS.”

“Got one in here.” He pointed to his head and you groaned. Is this a common trait amongst men? You still remember ending up three towns over from where you lived when your high school boyfriend wanted to take you to some cool restaurant. Your mother never let you hear the end of it, she still brings up when you called her now and then.

“Oh, great.” You remarked.

After dealing with some traffic, he parked in front of an arcade.

“A change of pace.”

“Right.” The two of you walked in together, him paying the entrance fee and you two entering the hall. The large room was filled with games, the place was mostly filled with teens and kids running around to different games.

“Come on.” He took your hand, pulling you into the direction of a racing game and taking a seat.

“At least you can’t crash this car.”

“Hey, I just like getting to places in the fastest time possible.”

“I felt like my face was going to fly off like it does in cartoons.”

“You should star in a soap opera, really good at being dramatic.”

“I’m just surprised you haven’t lost your licence.” You said as you took the seat next to his, gripping the steering wheel and entered the game.

“It helps with racing games.”

“Does it now?”

“Wanna test it?” You cocked an eyebrow, pressing start and began racing against Taehyung. The two of you were focused on beating the other that you hadn’t noticed the kids that just boosted his way to first place while you two got second and third respectively.

“How?”

“Tae, it’s okay to lose sometimes.”

“You’re only saying that because you got second, but me getting third?”

“Aw, sweetie, I can get you some ice cream to make you feel better.”

“You’re having fun with this, aren’t you?”

“Do you want the ice cream or not?”

“Yes.” The two of you ordered ice cream in a cup, you ordered chocolate chip cookie dough while Taehyung had rocky road.

“Let me have a bite.”

“Fine.” He stole your next bite, giving you a wink as he licked his lips.

“Taehyung.”

“It’s too sweet. Here.” He handed you another spoon, you gleefully took it and finished off your ice cream.

You played a few more games, most of them resulting in a tie or Taehyung winning. You didn’t mind much, having fun watching Taehyung’s competitive nature but making sure you were still enjoying yourself. He drove you home, you sat in the passenger seat with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Can I see you again?” You got out of the car, Taehyung opening the door for you and you leaned against the car door as he spoke.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take it. Good night, Y/N.”

“Good night, Taehyung.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Soyou came over for a girl’s night, her letting herself feel at home while you gathered the snacks.

“What’s with all the flowers?”

“Oh, he sent them…” You felt your face grow hot; Taehyung has been sending them after every date since your first. They were always the prettiest bunch; no bouquet was the same as the other and the latest was a bouquet of red camellias.

“What are they?”

“Red Camellias.” You placed down the tray of snacks, taking a bite of a cookie after you replied.

“Do you know what that means?”

“That he has a romantic side to him.”

“Oh, sweet child, do you not know about floriography?”

“Do I know what?”

“The language of the flowers, Y/N. Red camellias mean ‘You’re the flame of my heart’.”

“Flowers have meanings? Can’t they just be pretty?”

“What, they can’t multi-task now? Has he sent you others?”

“Yellow tulips, some Primroses, Alyssum, red roses, of course, and I think red chrysanthemums.”

“And you thought nothing of it.”

“Well, not all of us think of flowers like you.”

“Blame my florist mother. Anyways, the tulips mean your smile is like sunshine, primroses, alyssum mean worth beyond beauty, red roses and red chrysanthemums mean I love you and primroses mean I can’t live without you.”

“W-what? Really?”

“Girl, your man is speaking sweet nothings to you with flowers and you’re questioning it?”

“I mean he could have just sent them because they’re pretty.”

“Or that he’s madly in love with you.”

“It’s only been a few dates. Besides we haven’t done anything.”

“Do you have a photo?”

“What?’

“I need a photo of him.” You looked through your photos, choosing a random one and Soyou snatched your phone.

“What is wrong with you, Y/N?”

“Uh, nothing.”

“You have the hottest man alive and you haven’t banged him at least once?” She shrieked; you covered your ears a bit at the increased pitch.

“I don’t just put out.”

“in any other situation, I would applaud you, but this guy could bag a whole nightclub, guys and girls included. You sure you want to keep him on his toes?”

“If he wanted sex, he can hire an escort.”

“I admire your strength, Y/N.” You rolled your eyes, finishing off your cookie and scrolling through Netflix. You settled on a rom-com that Soyou raved about, staring to fall asleep partway through when the main characters had a stupid misunderstanding.

“Past bedtime, huh?”

“If I remember correctly,” a yawn escaping your lips mid-sentence before you continued, “you’re the older one here.”

“The movie wasn’t that boring.”

“I beg to differ. Will give a review in the morning, night.” Soyou rolled her eyes at you, got a tired laugh from you before the two of you went to bed in the living room.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You woke up, the sheets next to you empty and someone was knocking at your door. Rubbing the sleep of out of your eyes, you walked to the front door and was met with flowers in your face.

“Special delivery.”

“Tae?”

“Your one and only.” He lowered the flowers to reveal his smiling face, making you smile in return.

“Wasn’t expecting to see you until Friday.”

“I missed you, bunny.” He swiftly kissed your cheek as he stepped inside your apartment, the simple gesture making your heart skip a beat.

“Plus, I wanted to meet the famous Soyou.”

“I wonder where she went.”

“Her shoes are still here.” You checked the bathroom, seeing her not there either and going into your bedroom. On the side table was a note?

“Bunny?”

“In the bedroom.” You replied, Taehyung jogging in and peered over your shoulder.

“Someone took So, thinking it was me? Why would anyone do this?”

“It’s because of me.”

“Tae…?”

“I’m so sorry, bunny. But please leave this to me.” He started to rush out the room, you followed him until you got close enough to grab his arm.

“I’m going with you.”

“Y/N, you can’t.”

“She’s my best friend, Tae. I don’t want to lose you either, no matter how annoying you are sometimes.” He chortled at the last bit

“I’ll protect you both, I promise.” He sealed his words with a kiss to your forehead.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

“Bunny, whatever you do, don’t leave the car.”

“Okay.” Yeah, right. Taehyung caressed your cheek before he left, taking the time between him entering the building before getting out yourself. You sneaked in, seeing Taehyung standing in front of a woman? Getting closer, you eavesdropped on their conversation.

“You really are a fool, V.”

V? He’s V?

“Am I? Coming to my territory, hiding in my turf and having the nerve to taking my woman? You should be thankful I came here and not my men. I’m afraid they aren’t as charitable as I am.” A cold chill ran down your spine as if someone slid an ice cube down your back. His voice was cold, calculated as if he was drained of any emotion besides silent rage.

“Where is she?”

“Aw, now you put away the venom. She really has you wrapped around her finger.” The woman came close to Taehyung, having the gull to touch his jaw with a wicked smile on her lips.

Is this the world Taehyung lives in?

“Beg. I want to hear the great V pathetically beg for his little girlfriend’s life.” You saw him get down on his knees, you could tell he was gritting his teeth as he spat his next words.

“Please. She’s innocent to the life I lead, someone I should have never tainted with my cursed soul. Let her go, I’m begging you. It’s me you wanted anyways.”

“Bring her out.” You watched as a man carried a passed out Soyou, her face covered in soot and her clothes tattered. What did they do to her?

“Looks like I clipped your little angel’s wings. But don’t worry, she’s still breathing.”

“I’m so sorry they did this to you. I-“

“Sorry to interrupt your little monologue but I’m here for a deal.”

“What?” He barked, the coldness was back.

“Oh, you can’t get all prickly with me. I kept her alive, didn’t I? Killing her would give me pleasure but I want more than that.”

“What is it?”

“I want the White Rabbit.” White Rabbit? What is that?

“You talk big, don’t you?”

“I’m a woman with ambitions, V. After all, is this woman not worth as much?”

“Let me think about it.” He crossed his finger behind his back, was that a signal to someone? To answer your question, you heard a volley of gunshots. You shut your eyes tight, covering your ears as the shots rang out and you tried to sneak back out the building. You hurriedly got in the car, your heart racing as you sat.

He had a shooter hidden in the building already? Was this common for him? You didn’t see him flinch as the shooting started, still as a statue.

“Miss Y/N?”

“Who are you?”

“A friend of V, miss. He has instructed that I take you home.”

“Where’s my friend? She was in there-”

“I know you’re scared but Mr. V will take care of it.”

“No-” You tried to open the door, the handle not budging as the man drove you off.

“What the fuck? You know kidnapping is a fucking crime, right?”

“I’ve done worse, Miss.” Your eyes widen at his statement, quickly giving up on resisting the man. He claims to be a friend of Taehyung who is also the infamous V. If the gunfire you heard was evidence of the people who were his friends, it would be wiser to cooperate.

He stopped in front of your building, you quickly got out and the man rolled down the window to leave with one thought.

“He always keeps his promise.”

Those words took root in your mind as you waited for a response from Soyou. It had been a week since you last saw her, trying to pretend that you weren’t desperately missing her. Just a simple phone is all you wished for.

You just remember seeing Taehyung take her phone before the two of you set out for her. If it didn’t work out, would he just make her disappear? The thought was disrupted by your phone loudly ringing and you answered without a second thought.

“Soyou? Are you alright?”

“Bunny. She’s at the Memorial Hospital, room 2305.” You heard his voice instead, your throat suddenly drying up and you just murmured an okay before hanging up.

You were running down the hall to the annoyance of a few nurses until you opened the door to her room.

“Soyou?”

“Y/N!”

“I was so worried.” You cried, tears already welling in your eyes before you could think and held her hand.

“Psh. I’m a lot tougher than I look, you know.”

“It didn’t hurt that I had a gorgeous man waiting on me hand and foot.” You looked back to where Soyou was staring, looking at Taehyung who shied away from eye contact. Has he been here the whole time?

“The nurses totally thought we were dating until I set them straight.”

“I’m too bad for you anyways.”

“Please, you carried up this huge teddy bear because I said Y/N liked them.”

“Soyou!” Taehyung snapped, Soyou giggling at his blushing face. You stayed silent, glancing at the bear that sat on the side table.  The two of them bickered some more, you quietly excuse yourself to take a breather.

Wrapping your head around Taehyung being who he is. It was mind-numbing, to say the least, but seeing him acting so jovial, so carefree when he can speak so coldly, be so callous and stood still as he basically orders someone to kill.

His life was much more than yours was, a life where him getting close to someone meant they were dragged into it whether they know about it or not. That should have been you in that hospital gown, spending a week in a hospital because you fell for a man with secrets. Secrets that are enough to cost you your life.

It’s shameful how you managed to show your face to Soyou when it’s your fault she’s here in the first place. What a horrible friend you are.

“It’s not your fault.” You looked up to see Taehyung standing in front of you and you turned away from him.

“I know you saw, Kai told me you did.”

“If I knew who you were, I would have never… Soyou wouldn’t be like this.”

“I know. It’s my fault, this is just more sins I should atone for. Getting Soyou hurt, putting you in danger, hurting you in the process. I don’t think a universe filled with I’m sorry would be enough for everything I’ve done. But I am still sorry about it.”

“Taehyung. Please.”

“I made a promise to protect you. Even if it means we never meet again, I’m going to keep my word, bunny.”

“Listen, Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry.” He bowed to you before walking off. You wanted to call out to him, give him a piece of your mind for not letting you speak and saying everything that you’ve been wanting to say since you last saw him but you could make two steps before he was out of your sight.

It’s always the last words with him, huh.

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

You helped Soyou get to her house, driving her house as she was discharged two weeks after your first visit. Taehyung vanished like a shadow, you never heard a word from him since. You kept it that way, putting your energy into rebuilding your life again.

“Did you and Tae have a fallout?”

“What?”

“Y/N, I can see that lovelorn kind of look on your face. It’s been like that for the past 2 weeks, it’s kind of sickening really.”

“Lovelorn, So? I’m not in love.”

“Please. Don’t try to fool me, I’ve watched too many romantic movies to know the situation we’re in. You blame yourself for what happened, and you don’t want Taehyung around because he’s a reminder of it.”

“Even if that’s true?”

“Then, you’re an idiot.”

“Gee, and I was trying to be a good best friend.”

“So am I. I’m not going to let my best friend miss her chance at happiness. You don’t have to punish yourself for me, I’ve forgiven you for worse things.”

“Like what?”

“Letting me wear white after Arbour day.” You looked at her for a minute, gauging how serious she was before bursting out into laughter.

“Seriously.” You said, Soyou laughing with you.

“But seriously, get your butt in gear. We have to transform you into a woman that Tae can’t keep his hands off of. A femme fatale, in simple words.”

“Soyou? What did you plan?”

“Just go with it.”

“Isn’t that what you said to me about Taehyung the first time?”

“Oh shut it, you’re in love with him now.”

“Am not.” You sassed, Soyou rolling her eyes as she pushed you into her bedroom.

“Let me work my magic.”

───✱*.｡:｡✱*.:｡✧*.｡✰*.:｡✧*.｡:｡*.｡✱ ───

Soyou led you out the door, you saw the man from that day bowing. His name was Kai, wasn’t it?

“Miss Y/N, Miss Soyou.”

“Is this part of your plan?”

“Of course. Plus seeing Kai in a suit is a little bonus for me.” You saw her wink at him to which he coughed to cover up the fact he was blushing.

“Do you realize what you’re getting into?”

“I don’t mind playing with little fire, Y/N.”

“Okay, I’m leaving before you start with bedroom eyes.” You got into the car, Kai hopping into the driver’s seat.

“Are you at least going to tell me where we’re going?”

“I’m afraid not, Miss. V wants you to be blindfolded even.”

“Still wants to keep secrets, huh.”

“May I?”

“Go ahead.” The cotton scarf felt soft around your face as a knot was skillfully tied behind your head. You sat in anticipation, anxious about what this plan Soyou devised entails. The car finally stopped and you heard someone else open the door, you blindly taking their hand.

“I’ll lead the way.” You could only follow, holding onto an arm and walking up to what you believed was an elevator from the ding you heard. He led you in, the time you’re spending only making you more nervous.

“It’ll be alright, Miss.”

“I hope so.”

“Miss Soyou really cares about you as does V, even though he tries his best to hide it. I could dare say he loves you.” You thought you heard rustling but you dismissed as your nerves talking.

“But I can see that you both care for each other from how Miss Soyou describes you both.” Note to self: Give Soyou a piece of your mind next time.

“Ah, we’re here.” You followed, walking down a corridor and heard a door click.

“I can take it from here.” You pushed the blindfold up, seeing you holding onto Taehyung.

“You were there since I got out of the car, weren’t you?”

“You noticed.”

“For Kai to suddenly smell like your cologne was a dead giveaway, Taehyung.”

“I’m too good for the cheap one he buys.” You rolled your eyes, letting go of him and taking a few steps back.

You bit your lip, fighting the smile that threatened to show. Was it always this easy for him to toy with you like this?

“He was right, Kai I mean. About me loving you.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m sorry. I know these aren’t the words you want to hear. Not from me, at least.” He’s still there. That goofball that stumbles on his words, teases you constantly and has more cheesy lines than a cheese factory.

“Are you willing to listen to what I have to say? Whatever it is.” He took a seat, you stayed standing.

“Yes.” You gave him a look, him nervously scratching his neck and you took a deep breath.

“I missed you. The part of you that you showed me, even when you rattled me up into some stupid bets. But when I saw you there, how emotionless you were, I was afraid. Afraid of V. Like everyone else was. Seeing you at the hospital confused me too because I thought it was all an act. That cold man is who you should be.” You looked him in the eyes, knowing that he wouldn’t say a word until he knew you were done.

“But I know it’s not. I feel it in my heart, that smile you give me, those flowers you sent me… It was all real. So I want to accept you, all of you.” You sat in his lap, cupping his cheek before pressing your lips against his.

You kept it brief, gently pulling away and resting your forehead on his.

“Give me everything, Taehyung.” You whispered, Taehyung taking his turn to kiss you. It was more passionate as if he were pouring his heart into every movement of his lips against yours.

Yet it was hot, his tongue playing with you smoothly as he kissed you deeply. His hands found your zipper, the dress giving him no resistance and it pooled in his lap.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmured against your skin, pressing kisses along your neck. You made work of his shirt, revealing his chest as he played with your nipples through your bra.

You let out a moan to his pleasure, you began to ground your hips against him. A groan gave you the push to keep going, changing the rhythm your hips followed.

“Shit. Bunny.”

“Hm? What is it, Taehyung?”

“Don’t play coy, baby. I’m not afraid to punish you tonight.”

“Don’t act all tough with me, I know you’re wrapped around my finger.”

“Is that so?”

“Prove me wrong then.” A sardonic smile was on his face, knowing that he hated to lose. He took you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress hard while his hands rest on either side of your head.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He muttered against your lips, roughly taking your lips. His hands were more callous while touching you, ridding you of your underwear with one hand as if it were a simple task.

His hand dipped between your legs, crudely finding your clit and rubbing fast circles.

“No bite now, bunny? You’re wet enough to soak the sheets.”

“Rich coming from the man who’s hard as a rock.” You pressed your knee against his crotch, rubbing it through his dress pants.

“I’d be crazy if I wasn’t. Hearing you shamelessly moan my name while I pound you into the mattress, gripping the sheets hopelessly. Begging for more like the horny little bunny you are.”

“Don’t even bother to deny it, your pussy is soaking my fingers as we speak.”

“You’re a dirty man.”

“And you love it, Y/N.” He dipped down, moving his body down the bed and pushing your legs up and open for him.

You wouldn’t have the chance to speak, his tongue quickly pressed against your cunt. It took everything in you to stop salacious sounds from escaping your lips but a quick swirl of his tongue on your clit opened them like Pandora’s box.

The long strokes of his tongue alternated with short licks before you felt it enter you. Embarrassment flushed you as you heard wet sounds each time he dipped his tongue in. Soon his fingers would replace his tongue, two entering you without much.

“I want to hear more. Come on.” He smacked your thigh, eliciting a whimper from you. His thumb played with your clit as his fingers pumped fast and deep. You knew he had experience under his belt with looks like his but you were already a mess so early on.

“Show me more of that expression, bunny. I want to see how you look when you come.” He pressed on further, his fingers finding your g-shot and your clit beginning to feel overstimulated.

“Come for me.” You arched your back, toes curling and he pumped his finger while you rode out your high.

“Good girl.” You looked at him, licking his fingers clean and you sat up.

“Let me return the favour.” You said, reaching for his belt and he helped you reveal his dick. From grinding earlier, you figured he was above average but he was more than you imagined.

“You can’t intimidate my cock into getting harder by staring, you know.”

“Sorry. Just admiring.”

“Carry on.”

“Dick.”

“Funny.”

“Can be when I want to be.” You positioned him to lie down, gripping the shaft and begin slow twisting pumps, using your spit to lubricate before sinking your mouth around him.

“Oh, fuck.” You found a pace that made him twitch in your mouth, milking delicious grunts and growls from him in the process. His hands tangled in your hair as if he were controlling your pace but the loose grip let you know you were really in control.

“Shit, slow down.” You let him out of your mouth, still pumping him and licking your lip.

“Let me get a condom.” He looked through the drawer next to the bed, you took the chance to smack his ass to which he shot you a glance.

“What, you have nice cheeks.”

“So do you. Would look real nice with my handprints.”

“Want to test that?”

“Such a naughty bunny.” He retorted, flipping you on your stomach. His shins rested on the mattress on either side of your legs, one hand gripping his dick as the other held you still.

“Please, Tae. I want to feel you.” He plunged into you, the thick girth making you gasp as he slowly entered you.

“Are you okay, bunny? Does it hurt?” He pressed delicate kisses along your shoulder blades, trying to keep still until you spoke.

“I’m alright, Tae, you can move.” You breathed out.

Taehyung kept true to his word, only giving you a few slow strokes before he began his merciless thrusts. Your butt jiggled with each thrust, his hand periodically giving slaps to each cheek.

“Fuck, Taehyung.” You mewled out, unable to say more as he drilled into you. The delectable stretch you felt with each thrust numbed your mind as you felt your cunt set ablaze.

Your body grew hot, sweat forming all over your body and you could only vocalize sounds of pleasure. Taehyung’s grunts only made you wetter, allowing him to slide into your further and drive you even crazier.

“Love the way you clench -nng around me, bunny.”

“Gonna mould this pussy into the shape of my cock, do you want that, huh?”

“Fuck, please- ng. Hnng.” He slapped your ass in response, changing his pace and slid almost out of you before slamming himself back in.

“T-tae.” No words left his lips, only loud growls and grunts with the new rhythm he followed.

You cried out as one odd thrust made you come again and he kept going. Changing his pace again, his dick was perfectly angled to your g-spot and you whined from the overstimulation.

You were losing your mind, was sex always this good or was it because of Taehyung? Taehyung wouldn’t allow you to dwell on the question, pulling you back to edge of another orgasm with his touch on your clit.

“Fuck.”

“Clench around me, bunny.” You did as he asked, a low groan in your ear as a reward before he began to sloppily thrust in you. He stopped, cursing as he finally came.

“Are you alright, bunny?”He pulled out, removing the condom as you two regained your breaths. He went into the bathroom, getting something.

“Yeah.” You responded as he re-entered the room, him carefully wiping the sweat off of you.

“Good, it’s time for round two.”

“Taehyung, we don’t have to fuck like rabbits, you know.”He chuckled at your response, getting next to you and you shielded your self with your arms.

“I meant cuddles, bunny.”

“Now, come here. I don’t ever want to let you go again.”

[minnochu]

Lustrous (pt. 21)

Hybrid!Kook x f!Reader au

Pt 1 | Pt 2 | Pt 3 | Pt 4 | Pt 5 | Pt 6 | Pt 7 | Pt 8 | Pt 9 | Pt 10 | Pt 11 | Pt 12 | Pt 13 | Pt 14 | Pt 15 | Pt 16 | Pt 17 | Pt 18 | Pt 19 | Pt 20 | Pt 21

Warning: Death and violence

(A/n): Cue more anticlimactic action <3 If you didn’t know, I’m going on a hiatus after this update to focus on this semester because it’s important to me, so hang tight! Much love for all the support and love as always <3

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“I was getting a little bored you know? Especially when you just refused to be killed!” 

The voice you’ve only ever heard in your dreams and memories, chilling and patronizing. It holds your attention captive, almost like a sweet lullaby. 

Long ivory hair falling in waves, bright and healthy, a contrast to the dull darkness of her eyes. Irises like black holes, and yet they captivate any who look her straight in the eye. An enrapturing smile, and yet her expression seemed to look both angelic and condescending at the same time. 

You don’t recognize the room you’re in, you were never allowed in the same room as Eris after your innate magic never manifested and you were deemed a mutant. If your mother was called for an audience with the head, she would always leave you outside her living quarters. If there were important assemblies or such, you were never allowed into the grand hall. You assumed you were blinked to the latter, daring to raise your head to eye the woman seated on the throne. 

The manor never did scream dark-magic-is-practiced-here! It was more like a household worthy of angels or goddesses, if the latter existed. You held no doubt if anything and everything seemed to coexist in the human world now. 

One would have expected her throne to be made of the bones of humans and animals that she sacrificed when a spell called for it, or the skulls of birds she devoured to reverse the expiration of her aging body. It was, however, an elegant throne, carved mahogany gilded with ivory just as beautiful as her silvery tresses. Seated atop a platform, the witch sat with one pale leg crossed over the other. She held herself with dignity and poise, her chin raised and eyes set downwards in a mocking way. Eris dressed herself like a queen, silky robes with a long train that lay in folds at her bare feet.

She regarded you with a hardened look, pressing her chin into her knuckles as you picked yourself up and stood. Dusting your uniform skirt off, you perk and regard the man standing at her side with nostalgia. Hickory hair, messy and falling over his eyes. His jaw tightened at your gaze, although his own seemed to focus just above your head. You wondered why. Was he suddenly feeling guilty for betraying his lover, your mother, and now having to face you and kill you soon? Maybe he was just ignoring your existence. 

“It’s been quite a long time (F/n), tell me, how’s your mother doing?” Eris bemuses.

You scoff at that.

“Amazing, no thanks to you,” You spit back before shrugging, “I guess you’re getting a little old, your senile is showing, head witch.”

Dark eyes narrowed at your response.

“I see you’ve developed a rather sour mannerism, I don’t quite remember Minerva being that bratty. Was it that mutt who taught you that?” 

“I’d like to call it the hard truth, old lady,” You continue, watching as she bristles at the name. 

“Killing you is going to be so worthwhile,” She grits, eyes burning with annoyance, “I’ll make your annoying voice screech pitifully when I torture you just a little bit.”

The elder barely twitches and you sense the murderous intent only briefly as thorns emerge in tumultuous waves from the floor. You quickly flash your hand to create a glowing cube around your form to protect yourself from the crystals. 

“Humor me a little, why don’t you (F/n)? It’s been years since your family’s seen you! Why not greet them instead of being so rude?” You hear Eris say as you degenerate the shield.

You waver momentarily when you find yourself surrounded by your old coven members; grown up faces of children you had once knew to bully you when you still lived in the manor, familiar elders who had looked at you and your mother with pity and disgust didn’t seem to age as much. They all held that familiar glare of contempt at your existence, some holding staves in their hands to control the conjuring of their spells. 

Did you even have enough magic stored in your amulet to take on this many witches and warlocks? You can’t even remember the last time you siphoned from Jungkook or the others. For some reason, the former only ever allowed you to siphon from him. You weren’t sure why, but you often grew worried that it was draining for him to constantly be sucked of magical energy every so often. (Yoongi only ever laughed when you expressed your worry and reassured you he had plenty of magic left.)

Left and right, you raise crystalline shields, a purple hue emitting a dark aura, as you protect yourself from attacks from the others. You can barely get much of a hit when facing multiple threats from all around you. As you dodge and counter magical spells and skills, you catch the infuriating smirk on Eris’ expression. 

She’s laughing at your predicament. She knows you’re bound to run out of magical source, and you can barely manage to siphon any from the other witches when they make an effort to keep their distance. There’s a greater number of them and only one of you, multiple attacks left you vulnerable if you tried to focus too hard on getting into someone’s close quarters and siphon their magic. 

You’d have to thank Jungkook later, if you survived, for giving it to you hard. The weight of the magical projectiles, on the translucent layer of protection covering your body, didn’t seem to hurt no better than the wolf’s punches. 

Pivoting on your heels, you nimbly dodge a thorn shot from the right of you, however another zipping by from behind nicks you on your side. Your uniform tears from the cut, blood seeping from the superficial wound on your torso. 

You weren’t one for stamina, even if Seokjin sometimes made you run laps in the forest, but constantly having to run and dodge was wearing down your legs. You were starting to feel winded and you can sense your stone depleting rapidly.

Perspiration creates a sheen on your forehead, a bead rolling down your temple.

Survive? Was it possible to survive this alone? Would Jungkook come? The pack? Would they be able to find you? 

You blew a cherry.

That was pathetic, to rely on them so much. 

If you didn’t survive, you’d never hear what Jungkook wanted to tell you. You’d never be able to see him, or the boys. 

The thought makes your heart clench as you dissipate in a flurry of stygian vapor. Reappearing, you make a grab for a witch’s arm from behind, your fingers barely manage to siphon a sliver of magic as you move to dodge another attack. In your state of distraction, the blast of condensed magical energy singes the lateral side of your bicep, burning away at the sleeve of your uniform.

Your chest twists painfully at the thought of no longer being able to wake up to Jungkook, in his large wolf form, curled protectively and warmly around your body. You would no longer sit at the chaos that was breakfast, lunch, and dinner with the pack. You would no longer be able to laugh alongside the three youngest and Hyejin at school. No goofy jokes with Jimin and Taehyung, and Jungkook breathing down their back for whatever reason. No lying on the grassy terrain of the backyard, limbs spread out like a starfish, with Jungkook in same position, after another one of Seokjin’s training sessions. No sitting out on the roof tiles when you go searching for the hybrid wolf, watching the stars alongside him.

Maybe you should’ve confessed sooner, instead of being scared by the idea that Jungkook was fated to someone that wasn’t you. The weight over your chest was becoming unbearable, you wanted to see him one more time and tell him again how he makes you feel safe and at home and how much you like even if he wouldn’t feel the same. 

You couldn’t possibly survive this, right?

Were you going to have to resort to killing? They were your kind... but were they your family? Were they there to protect you and pick you back up like Yahiko and the pack? Were they worth sparing when they’ve turned your mother into a puppet? Were they worth letting roam free when they’ve put Yahiko and the boys in danger for being associated with you?

You glanced at Eris, smug as she watches you tire yourself. That meant becoming the people you hated, the same people who loathed you back. You wanted to be better than that, despite the growing rage and contempt building within your chest at your clashing thoughts.

Summoning the last bit of magic from your amulet, the glow of the stone resting on your chest flickering with the last bit of its life before growing dull and cold, multiple needle-like spears formed around you. You willed them in different directions, catching the coven members by their appendages. They weren’t fatally wounded, but you still winced at the thought of possibly killing someone still. 

Eris seemed to notice the falter in attacks and defense, barely able to keep on your feet with the remaining coven members. 

She snapped her fingers, a curved dagger materializing in her hand. Glossed lips curved deviously as she glanced at the blade. 

“I guess I have to get my hands dirty after all, hm Colhen?” Eris sighs dramatically as she rises from her seat, not waiting for a response. Her feet tap on the marble as she steps down from the platform, walking gracefully towards you as you take a blow to your side. Compact, dark energy smashes into you, burning your skin and leaving a darkening, almost black imprint, as you’re thrown off your feet from the impact. You hit your shoulder hard on the marble, wincing at the white hot pain that shoots from the bone. 

“I’m getting a little impatient, (F/n), every time I try to kill you… you just can’t seem to fucking die you know? A little annoying don’t you think?” She says, piquing your attention, smirking at the haziness in your weary eyes, barely able to glance up at her, “I meant to torture you, but there’s no fun when I don’t get the satisfaction of seeing that mutt fill with absolute terror and sorrow at your slow death. I’m also an impatient woman after all.”

Brandishing the dagger, she mocks an examination of its metal surface before glancing at you pitifully, “I meant to plant an assassin in the school to kill you with this blade, but I guess I’ll have the honor of killing you myself.”

This is it. You were done for. Was everything all for nothing after all? 

Stepping close to your fallen form, the blade glimmers under the light of the chandelier as she raises her arm. You take one last breath, swallowing hard as she brings the edge downward and your eyes squeeze shut in preparation for your impending doom. 

You had magic left, there was no protecting what was coming. This really was the end, huh?

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” She demands suddenly.

You don’t realize that you’re still breathing and alive as you open your eyes to Colhen knelt before you, arms stretched out at his sides to protect you. He gazes down at you fondly, relieved that he managed to protect you for just a while longer. 

This was the man who your mother had fallen in love with, and the man who walked all over those feelings once it had been announced of your mutation. He held your mother and your existence with distaste. So why was he protecting you now?

“You… but I thought you hated me?” You gaped up at him.

He chuckles softly, “My own daughter? Never.”

There’s a certain warmth that sparks behind those eyes, the same eyes that only ever held disgust when directed at you. His eyes reflect repentance and adoration, regret and absolute love, both emotions that were foreign to you. Colhen never looked at you or your mother in such a way, so why? Why now?

“I made the mistake of hiding behind my own fear of being shunned and facing the reality of my actions... but I never stopped thinking about the beautiful little girl out there that I wish I could’ve protected,” His laugh makes your heart warm, “Allow me to be a proper father just a while longer.”

Eris is bristling behind him, fury burning in her eyes as she clenches her teeth at her husband’s actions.

“You betray me like this Colhen?! For a mutant?!” Eris sneers in disbelief, “Fine. If you dare disobey me like this, see to it that your efforts are in vain.”

Your father’s lips are moving but you can’t hear it, his mouth moving to form the words of a final apology and expression of his love for you. They all fall on deaf ears when you cry out as he looks up only in time to see the large thorn that appears from above, impaling him through his gaping mouth. The spear pierces the back of his throat and lodges into the ground with a thunderous crack of the marble. Smaller spears pierce him through his left eye, one at his hip, another straight through his chest cavity, blood pouring from the wounds as his hands hang limp at his sides.

“How could you!?” 

Eris snorts, almost flabbergasted, “How could I? He was dumb to even protect trash like you.”

Long nails, sharp like talons, grip you by the throat, forcing you onto your feet on weak and unstable knees. Your hands fly to her wrists in attempt to siphon from her, but she anticipates this and uses two fingers to rip the necklace from around your neck. She smirks as she lets the amulet fall to your feet before forcing her heel down onto the stone, smashing it.

“A pitiful attempt,” she sneers, “This is the reason why I hate failures like you, you’re no better than thieves trying to use someone else’s magic, you’re weak and useless. There is no place you belong in this world for as long as I live as the head of the Blackwells.”

“Let’s finally put an end to this little charade of cat and mouse, yes?”

The doors to the hall are forced open just she forces the blade into your middle. Jungkook’s eyes wide and flashing gold and aqua in a fit of fury.

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(Can’t tag in bold | If you’ve changed your user please lmk so I can correct it!)

((If I for whatever reason did not see your request to be added to the taglist, please lmk and I’ll make note for when I come back, or I’ll just add you so I don’t forget again lol))

++Omg also @crymesome-rice I forgot to tag you on the last update adjaljkgdl, but here you are, sorry about that!

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

The Iowa Caucus Happened

A job offer slides into Rafael’s DMs as he waits to find out if it’ll be a new start or prison on February 8.

Accidental Feminist Icon

Delete the Twitter app, Mr. Barba

“Mister Barba?”

Rafael didn’t like hearing his name from the young woman behind him, especially not given what he’d done. He’d texted Carmen on the first day of the trial, and she’d agreed to look into the offers from attorneys he knew, and some he didn’t, while he sat beside Dworkin and emotionally prepared himself to testify. The ones he’d looked at the night before came from people he didn’t like or were last resorts. He’d moved from his visceral response to finding law to back his actions. Applying logic could let him detangle himself from his conflicted emotions. Catholic guilt wrestled his humanity. That said, he also found himself desperate to introduce Ollie to music as Carmen worked from his apartment that first afternoon, not caring for once as the toddler drooled or sneezed or spilled all over him.

“Yes?” he asked, taking his coffee from the cart. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

“We haven’t. I follow you on Twitter.”

“Ah,” he said, shifting awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you, Miss-”

“Rachel Sullivan. I have, like, a reading Twitter.”

“I’ve seen that! Read with Rachel? Your icon is a copy of Howl?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, chuckling. “I just- listen, I know it’s bad what’s going on and a lot of people are really hurt and going after you. Do I get it? No. But, I think you didn’t get a good choice, and you did what’s right for you. When it seems impossible, it’s not my place to judge something I can’t fathom. And a lot of people feel the same. A bunch of us have a group chat and we hope everything goes well and you get to start again.”

It was a stark contrast to his interaction with mami or emails from church ladies. There was an acknowledgement of disagreement, but he needed more people to respect that they weren’t there like she did. He also remembered watching his father die, and while he didn’t like the man, he regretted not ending that pain. It only drew out hurt for everyone. 

“Thank you, Rachel. That really means the world to me.”

“Good luck today,” she said, giving him a wave when she took her coffee and left. By the end of the day, Rafael hated Peter Stone for being a damn good prosecutor, and he wondered if there were any cases he’d tried, especially the ones before SVU that he was wrong on. He made his way into a new bar, definitely not his usual during all of this, and he sat and drafted his resignation. It took longer than he cared to admit, and he restarted and reread it time and time again. By the time he was drunk, he’d written something he could proofread the next morning and ignored calls from Olivia, Carmen, and mami. 

He decided it was time to do what he had been dreading, logging into Twitter. Since Carmen had cleaned it up, more people had found him, and he was able to easily ignore anything hateful by skimming for murder or murderer in the body of the tweet. He skipped those, and Rafael was surprised to see some apathy, sympathy, or respect for his reasoning. Lazily, he scrolled his direct messages. A select few of the people who knew him contacted him with revulsion, but his filtered messages were filled with vitriol. He found Rachel’s account again, following her back and deciding he could break his unspoken rule of only following people he knew or the occasional blog/podcast/museum/celebrity. If anyone contacted him with kindness, he was now more open to the reciprocity of Twitter; no one would be asking him to prosecute their case soon.  

He saw a message from Tripp Greene. In Harvard, they’d had an unspoken alliance as the two scholarship kids in their cohort, a silent allegiance that continued into law school. There were very few people Rafael respected personally from Harvard, but Tripp had remained kind, even if he worked in something as ruthless as politics. They’d been reunited by Rafael’s uptick in Twitter popularity. He was more proud than he should be by the potential presidential candidates that had followed him. Rafael should have known Tripp would reach out; he was ever the silent cheerleader and had watched a sibling die on life support when he was at Harvard. They’d discussed the morality of pulling plugs and the selfish desire to keep people alive, though most of it had been Tripp talking and Rafael listening.

While moving to Iowa seemed extreme, he was acutely aware that he would end up haunting the DA’s office and Manhattan SVU like some ghost of ADAs past instead of moving forward. His mother had a boyfriend and looming retirement that seemed likely to take the pair to Miami, where she could play grandma to his grandchildren. There was nothing left for him here but Carmen, and while a great friend, she was not enough to erase the last twenty-one years of his life. When Carmen called for the fifth time that night, he ignored it, but it was quickly followed by Answer the phone or I tell Olivia I haven’t heard from you. With a groan, he answered when Carmen called again sixty seconds later.

“I’m fine. I don’t want to delve back into a play by play of my day.”

“That’s why you’re drunk at seven o’clock,” she said, her tone thick with sarcasm as she pretended that solved everything.

“It’s only been two hours?”

“You’re not at Forlini’s.”

“I’m not hanging out with Stone.”

“Send me your location. I just picked Ollie up from mom’s.”

“Take your son home, Carmen. I’ll be fine.”

“But we could talk about how much I also hate Stone. I’ll even stop and let you grab take out from that Cuban place you like.”

“Deal,” he acquiesced, motioning he wanted to close his tab. “Call me when you’re close.”

“Deal. ETA is about fifteen minutes.”

He polished off his scotch, signing the check and tipping well before taking his briefcase and leaning against the wall as he waited for Carmen’s SUV. She waved at him out the window, and he hurried into her passenger seat. Though he always knew that she was a great secretary and assistant, Carmen was proving to be the friend he needed right now. Olivia, in the few phone calls they had, was unwilling to discuss anything but the case. She was in cop mode, and she talked to him like she could swoop in and fix what he had done. While she thought he didn’t know, she’d talked to McCoy, talked to Stone, talked to anyone who would listen. But what she didn’t understand is that he’d accepted going to prison was a possibility, but it was one he felt was worth it.

“Barba!” he heard from the backseat, smiling softly to see Ollie more awake than he’d expected. He’d seen the boy periodically, mostly during evening handoffs when Carmen’s mother would drop him off so Carmen could take him home. There were a lot of single mothers in his life, and all were exceptional. The last few days, Carmen and Ollie both had spent a lot of time with him. He kept introducing Ollie to music and movies and foods like he could make up for everything Drew wouldn’t experience by making sure Ollie did.

“Oliver!” he smiled, twisting around to smile at him. The boy kicked his leg, and the blue stripe on the rubber of his sneakers lit up. “I like your shoes.”’

“Thanks,” he giggled, kicking again. 

“You’re good with him,” Carmen smiled, the navigation now leading her to get his take out. 

“He’s a good kid. Noah made me better with kids. Liv said I held him like a sack of flour at first.”

“You’ll be ready by the time you have your own.”

“I work too much.”

“That can change.”

“I don’t deserve to have a child,” he shrugged, and he could see Carmen purse her lips. “I don’t. I wouldn’t be good at it anyway. Wouldn’t be fair. Besides, I might end up like dad. No kid deserves that shit.”

“Bad word!” Ollie scolded, tablet in hand as he watched a movie.

“Sorry, Ollie. Stuff.”

“You’ve never told me what he did.”

“He wanted heterosexual, toxic machismo and got a swarmy, emotional bisexual.”

“You’re not that emotional.”

“He took care of that,” he said darkly. “I used to cry when he went after mami. That turned his attention to me.”

Carmen knew there was nothing she could say, so instead she silently took his hand, squeezing softly. He was taken aback at first, but he kept her hand loosely in his as his head lulled against the headrest. It was strangely grounding, the physical affection. He’d felt like he was swimming the last few days as memories of his father, his father’s death, his childhood, and each case he tried bubbled up. That wasn’t including the vision of baby drew and Maggie in the hospital room that lingered everywhere. 

The conflicting guilt and conviction he’d done the right thing also broke a damn and the feelings he’d suppressed- loneliness, guilt, abandonment, distrust- were all bubbling to the surface. He’d spent so much of his life trying not to process them so he could focus on a conviction rate and moving forward that he didn’t have the tools everyone else did sometimes. Right now, Carmen felt like an anchor, and he was grateful for her. 

He got out of the car when Carmen parked, ordering enough food for three adults, one take out container containing whatever he thought a toddler could handle. Soon enough, they were settled in his living room and eating, though Ollie had minimal interest in the pork, beans, and rice in front of him. The thought crossed his mind that when he took one of the out of state jobs, he wouldn’t have Carmen there like this. He was sure this friendship would be short lived; when he didn’t need her anymore, she’d leave him. That’s what usually happened, wasn’t it? She just felt bad for him.

“I’m moving to Iowa,” he blurted out before he was able to spiral into the self loathing he’d recently discovered.

“That’s far,” she said, and he thought he could detect sadness in her voice.

“There’s FaceTime.”

“Not quite the same, but I’ll take it.”

“Tripp understands,” he said, sobering up as the food hit his stomach. “He lost a sister. Watched someone dying like with my dad except she’d been born that way. It was years, Carmen.”

“That’s a lot. I’m going to miss you, Rafael. Ollie will too.”

“Come visit. If the tickets are bad, I’ll pay. Or cover renting a car.”

“You’re drunk,” she chuckled. 

“Sorry. Best friend. It’s the rules.”

“We’ll come. But I can afford tickets.” 

“Promise if it’ll make things tight, you’ll let me. You’re raising a kid. No kids means I can afford to get my friend the occasional plane ticket.”

“Deal.”

“Next week, will it be Des Moines or prison? Who knows! I’ll probably grow a beard either way. Think they’d recognize me in prison if I grow a beard?” 

“I’ve never seen you with a beard. Stop shaving and we’ll find out.”

She could see Rafael getting tired, head leaning back against the couch and closing his eyes. She preferred when he joked about all of this. They were stuck waiting, and this time the next night they’d probably know. Ollie climbed between them on the couch, and she realized her boss wasn’t the only one almost asleep. 

“You two can stay,” Rafael yawned, hand smoothing Ollie’s curls back. 

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah. It’ll be nice not being alone in the morning. And you can stay here to work. We didn’t talk about it, but I know you hate Stone. He’s a good attorney. Doing his job.”

“His job is wrong.”

“That isn’t his fault. If another ADA had done what I did? I’d be prosecuting them.”

“Go get ready for bed,” she chuckled, rolling her eyes. As she scooped Ollie up, she kissed the top of Rafael’s head. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Carmen?” She turned in the doorframe. “Thank you. For all of this.”

“I’m glad to, Raf. Promise you’ll actually sleep.”

“I promise.”

“Night, Barba,” Ollie yawned, waving over his mom’s shoulder as they entered his guest room. Maybe Iowa was going to be too far if he didn’t go to prison. He was getting quite fond of having Carmen around quite quickly. He wasn’t going to be her superior anymore, so this friendship could be something he maintained. 

Olivia would be a given; even if they were primarily united around work, she was also one of his closest friends and maybe not working together would make him relax. Hell, maybe the end of his life in the city would do it. Rafael couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t felt he was chasing an upward trajectory in New York City. Even at Harvard, the plan had been to return. Maybe coming into Des Moines established would let him feel comfortable just existing. 

He liked cooking and reading in the park and going out dancing on occasion. He rarely had time for two options, and the latter made his cheeks red with embarrassment at the prospect of a colleague seeing him during the outing. In Iowa, maybe he could go dancing and take up a new hobby and wear jeans without feeling like something was out of his control. 

He woke up before Carmen, excited to be able to cook for her. He appreciated the fact she was happy to help him, but she had paused her own life for the last few days. Their friendship was relegated to offices and dinners by the office. He’d come to her baby shower and birthday parties and even a holiday party, but that was it and that had other colleagues present. Except maybe the baby shower, but he was determined to buy up whatever was left on her registry when the day came, using mami, abuelita, and the older women at church as pseudonyms to pretend he’d just let family know. 

“You can cook?”

“I just never had time,” he shrugged, tray coming out of the oven.

“You made pastries?” 

“Pastelitos de guayaba.” Carmen didn’t miss how proud he looked as he admired them. They were something he’d always made with family. “They aren’t hard, but abuelita used to make them for me all the time. Puff pastry, sweetened cream cheese and guava paste. Cafe con leche on the way.”

“You couldn’t sleep?” He shook his head, pouring the espresso and adding the milk before placing mugs at the breakfast counter. His mouth was set in a line now, the corners sucked in as he focused on the countertop. Her hand rested on his, giving a squeeze and he rewarded her with a soft smile. “We’ll be helping you pack for Iowa in no time.”

“I hope,” he nodded, biting into a pastry. Ollie came out, eyeing the countertop. “Want one, Oliver?”

“What are they?”

“Delicious,” Carmen groaned, having torn into her own. That was enough for Ollie, who accepted a pastry from Rafael with a soft Thank you before biting into it carefully.

“Wow! It is good!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

It felt a somber affair, despite the pastries, when Carmen saw him off to court. She chose to wait in his apartment, ringer on high and news coverage on. Ollie was easily entertained by the toys she had in the car, and the phones were forwarded to be answerable on her cell phone. By the end of the day, she’d put dinner in his slow cooker and cleaned most everything at least once. And then her phone rang with his ringer. She’d picked one of the other presets for him long ago, and she watched Ollie with his blocks as she answered.

“Rafael?”

“Not guilty,” he exhaled, still unable to believe it as he surveyed his office to begin packing. Her desk was empty, and he didn’t mind today because if she had been here, McCoy would’ve had her helping Stone. Carmen was his assistant, his friend, and it was bad enough to know Stone would probably take his place at work.

“Thank God,” she whispered. “Did you turn the letter in?”

“I put it on Jack’s desk. I’m hoping to be gone buy his return. I think three heavy boxes will cover it. Plus anything I hung, but other than diplomas most of it came with the place.”

“I put dinner on. Ollie and I ran to the store and picked up short ribs and potatoes and carrots. I needed something to do.”

“Nervous you’d be visiting me in prison?”

“You know damn well juries can be swayed. You’ve done it.”

“And I’m safe. I’ll be there in a couple of hours, okay?”

“Okay,” she said softly. “I’m really glad you get to go to Iowa.”

[my-introvert-hideout]

💗 Edogawa Ranpo: ENTP [BSD] 💗

Ne > Ti > Fe > Si

*Based off Season 1 of the anime [Chapters 1-12] with character-based spoilers from the Wikis. I’ve also read a synopsis of “The Untold Story of the Founding of the Detective Agency,” which gives lots of insight into Fukuzawa and Ranpo in particular, and also I know Yosano’s backstory. The Onsen Drama will also make an appearance occasionally. I feel like I have a good enough grasp on their characters for this and will only add more examples rather than changing types in the future. (At least, I think so.)

I’VE ALSO SEEN HIM TYPED AS: INTP, INTJ, ENTJ

Ranpo’s Ne is overwhelming (in a positive way, of course). In contrast to Ni, Ne prefers exploring already-established external ideas rather than focusing on creating a specific one for themselves. As a result, they have a more open appearance / attitude than an Ni-dom. Ne is well-known for its more childlike charm, which is often why people type Dazai as ENTP. (Ranpo’s fabulous extroverted intuition is what caused him to start that pillow fight at the onsen 🤭) Exxx types are more likely to be bored, as well, since they are in the external world. While introverts also get bored, they find that playing in their minds is pretty natural. Ne also prefers to take time working through different ways do go about things; Ni does this subconsciously and quite quickly, especially if Se is higher in a person’s function stack. When discussing what to do about Atsushi’s abduction, Ranpo suggested going to the police instead of pushing for Fe or Te like Tanizaki or Kunikida. Fe and Te are extroverted decision-making functions and Ne is an extroverted idea-exploring and information-gathering function. (His Ti is also very involved in that debate, but that goes without saying!) Ne’s ability to generate a plethora of ideas at once is probably the starting point of how his Ultra Deduction works. Si’s experience, Ti’s logic, and Fe’s understanding of others then whittles those possibilities down. But he’s also a genius. So take that process and amplify it. I’m also trying out this theory that generally someone’s likes and dislikes correspond to whether or not they’re a sensor or intuitive.

LIKES: Logical thinking, fantastic tales

DISLIKES: Common sense, useless knowledge

Literally 100% intuitive things.

Ti is, again, pretty much the deduction function, and is in the same position as Dazai's. During the Yamagiwa-Sugimoto case, both characters identified the killer correctly using this function but relied on different perceiving axes. Ti is also seen as very witty, fast, sharp, and sometimes subtle while Te is more overtly blunt and surface-level since it doesn’t care as much about Fe. I can’t see Ranpo using Te consciously, especially when considering his surprising use of Fe. I think the xNTJ perception of him comes from later on in the series, where he showcases a more serious and leaderlike persona. An ENTP’s shadow functions are Ni, Te, Fi, and Se -- you could think of it as a mini INTJ being inside of them. And if that INTJ-ness is being paired with his more extroverted nature, it’s understandable to peg him as an ENTJ. But still, I don’t think anyone would compare his usual self to Kunikida!

Like Dazai, Ranpo uses Fe for manipulation. However, this is more controlled, mainly directed towards enemies and suspects (or to get people to buy him snacks lol) while Dazai will even play mind games with ‘friends’ and allies. Remember him making Sugimoto cry when he revealed Yamagiwa’s last words? But honestly, I think Ranpo’s parents, Yosano, and Fukuzawa have really helped develop the greatest detective’s Fi. It’s one of the reasons I prefer Ranpo over Dazai; I don’t really have introverted feeling in my stack, so it’s not that I’m drawn to the same function in him. It’s the fact that Ranpo is more transparent about his intentions. Sure, he is a bit secretive in some ways, but he clearly loves the ADA and will do anything to protect those he cares about. It’s even revealed he fully knows that he doesn’t have an ability, but continues with the act in order to keep the harmony of the ADA. On another note, I’m not sure if he kept quiet at the onsen about not beng able to sleep when it’s completely dark: It could be that he was embarrassed about it or that he didn’t want to be an inconvenience. (I seriously doubt he just forgot to mention it until the lights were already out.) But either way, it makes me go 🥺. He also doesn’t resort to lying as quickly as Dazai does. It’s understandable why, but Dazai just doesn’t operate quite like this -- not yet, at least. And similarly to Sir Suicide™, Ranpo uses Fe to create a bit of a mask. It’s not for the same reasons, but it largely produces the same result. AND. I don’t know why people don’t really talk about this, but he took off his hat in respect when he saw Yamagiwa’s body and called her a lady -- without the teasing tone of voice Dazai might have. Maybe I’m just weird, but that scene really makes me happy, for some reason. Praise is also a very Fe-heavy thing, and I’m sure we all know how Ranpo is about praise LOL.

Frankly, Si is an interesting part of his personality. In the main series, it manifests as a distaste of ‘boring’ things, and he doesn’t seem particularly impressed with this function being Atsushi’s go-to. Inferior Si isn’t particularly good at remembering how to do things. Riding trains, anyone? On the other hand, his backstory actually has quite a bit of this. In The Untold Story of the Founding of the Detective Agency, Ranpo refuses to believe Fukuzawa that he’s incredibly gifted -- because he was clinging so tightly to his parents’ teachings. Right before Fukuzawa tells Ranpo that he has an ability, the latter told Fukuzawa to scold him, as he's dealt with it plenty of times already to know where the conversation is heading. (Excuse me while my heart shatters.) Regardless, after the lie, Ranpo ran off to stop the murder from taking place while deciding that “Since they’re ignorant infants--I’ll have to protect them!” Yes, his trademark cockiness is there, but that Si sense of duty and the Fe wish to protect is clearly present. I’d also like to point out that common sense and ‘useless’ trivia knowledge are literally Si incarnate.

Here’s a short excerpt from Ranpo’s point of view: ‘The reason he gave me those glasses was also for my sake. I’m okay with that, for now at least. Special ability user has a cooler ring to it anyway. (I got praised, so it’s all good.)’ *playing with kitten* “Show me your tummy---!”

Fi Blind Spot: Like Dazai, this is relatively self-explanatory. He values Fi more than the ex-executive, but not to the degree someone with that function in their stack does. I mean, one of his quotes is even about his willingness to turn himself into a demon if it meant the ADA would be fine! That’s a pretty clear use of Fe and a disregard of Fi.

Ne-Fe Loop: ‘An ENTP in an Ne-Fe loop would imagine a bunch of negative future scenarios and lose sight of reality as they fail to apply logic to their unrealistic beliefs. In addition, they become extremely sensitive to others’ opinions of them and are extremely concerned with being accepted by those around them and feeling disliked.’ source Just head on over to  Fukuzawa and Ranpo’s Dynamic.

ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵇᵉᵃⁿ