#even if everything is complete--i feel like each chapter should be released at least a few days apart

[hood-ex]

Grimacing whenever a fic writer posts all chapters of their multi-chapter fic at the same time. Like nooo! People aren't going to want to stop on each individual chapter to comment unless you're writing incredible details and interactions in each one! They're just going to bulldoze their way through the entire fic and then maybe they'll leave you a comment at the end if they really loved it.

[murkycran]

Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List

Welcome to my Radiostatic/Voxal Fic Rec List! ^_^ This will include romantic, platonic, and/or queerplatonic Radiostatic fics (and admittedly probably a couple of Radiosilence fics, too).

I will keep updating this periodically as I read more fics, so feel free to check back every once and a while! I'll reblog it when I update it, plus make a note with the date at the top. Trust me, this is by no means a complete list; there's fics I still want to add to this that I just haven't gotten to yet. I just decided to go ahead and post it anyways, because if I kept waiting until I ran out of fics to rec I'd probably be working on this forever.

These are not in any particular order; I'm going by both my Bookmarks list on AO3 and my memory of fics I forgot to bookmark. I also tried to make notes on what fics were written before season 1 released, but I might have missed some, so keep that in mind.

Please let me know if any links don't work or are wrong!

✨Before you proceed:✨ read the tags on these fics if you decide to read them. Many of them have heavy material - no surprise given the fandom, but still, felt like this needed said. On that note, there's also fics with explicit material and some fics are straight up PWP. Again, read at your own risk/heed the tags.

Fic Rec List Masterpost

Staticmoth Fic Rec List

Misc. Vox Fic Rec List

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Radio Healed the Video Star by Aspiring_Forest_Witch

Summary: Alastor comes across an unconscious and battered Vox while out on one of his strolls. He feels compelled to bring him back to the hotel.

Notes: 98% of this fic was written before season 1 was released, so keep that in mind, because there's obviously going to be inconsistencies with canon. It's nearly finished (at least according to the author's notes in the latest chapters, I think). I suggest pacing yourself with this one - it's nearly 700k words long. I ruined a good sleep schedule staying up to get through it. (So worth it though.) There are quite a few OCs in later chapters, but they're such good OCs. You fall in love with them just as much as the canon characters, I swear. I would die for Verity and the Trio.

Let's Misbehave by joosymango

Summary: Alastor wins a bet against Vox, now his rival must stop pestering him for two weeks. It should be a pleasant break! So why does he miss the idiot?

Notes: Vaguely inspired by Aspiring_Forest_Witch's Radio Healed the Video Star. Also largely written before season 1 release. First fic I read for the HH fandom. ^_^

Safe with Me Series by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Having only ever set his sights on men who treat women with odious disrespect, Alastor never thought he'd take interest in Vox's turbulent relationship with his fiancé and business partner, Valentino. He decides to lend a helping hand in the hopes of getting Vox out of his sticky situation. After all, what are childhood enemies for?

Unfortunately, neither Alastor nor Vox could've predicted the rollercoaster of unsaid emotions and future horrors that are thrown their way. Will they be able to rely on each other and get by unscathed? Or will destiny have other plans for these two?

[HUMAN AU] [There's art included for the human designs]

Notes: It's so, so good. ;-; Heed the tags. There's a prequel consisting of oneshots, plus a sequel (listed below, bc I can't not put it here)! And there's ART! So much art!

You, My Everything by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Some say that love can conquer all, even in Hell.

Vox begged to differ, and he was damn well sure Alastor did too – or at least he would be, if Alastor hadn’t become one big question mark.

Sequel to Safe with Me.

Notes: Only read if you've read Safe With Me!!! Still pretty early in the story but so good. ;-; The angst, I swear...

You're on the Air by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: A series of short, daily conversations between a radio host and his avid listener, as the two learn more about each other’s lives over the air. Set in the late 90s/early 2000s.

Notes: Same author as Safe with Me, but not set in the same universe! This one is set up in a literal radio show format; almost entirely dialogue-centric.

Of Candied Pine and Cherried Smoke by rillo (rillyrillo)

Summary: Inspired by x_Arcticfox_x’s fanfiction: Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola

After overdosing on them one too many times to curb the steadily weakening suppressants, Vox's body rejects them outright. Now with his scent getting stronger, he finds himself struggling to hide his true status as an Omega. In his desperation, he seeks help from the one person that knows his secret: Alastor.

Notes: Omegaverse. Same author as Safe with Me series and You're on the Air!

Blue Raspberries And Cherry Cola by x_Arcticfox_x

Summary: Vox is an omega, that's his biggest secret.

During his life time he hid this fact using suppressants, and counited to in death. One day he runs out of pills and his supplier is out of stock for the time being so Vox is forced to submit to the torture of going through heat for the first time in decades.

Too bad his business partner only see's omega's as mere object's...

But hey, at least Angel found him just in time, right?

Notes: Omegaverse. Currently on hold, but has 14 chapters currently available for reading. :)

Once Bitten, Twice Shy by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor decides that it's time to claim what is rightfully his, consequences be damned.

Notes: It's not porn but it might as well have been for how fucking intense this scene was. 😳

Dripping Pink by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Just before an Overlord meeting, Alastor gets infected by an off-market, highly potent, and incredibly dangerous love potion. Nobody realises until it's too late.

Notes: Simultaneously funny as fuck and erotic as all hell. I suffered from so much secondhand embarrassment on Vox's behalf. It's wonderful. :D

Lucidity's Fog by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Ever since he met Alastor, Vox has been having raunchy dreams about the deer. Those dreams suddenly stop when Alastor disappears. For seven years, he's free of the guilt, of the shame brought on by his unconscious desire.

Until Alastor comes back, and Vox is plagued by a new dream the same day he finds out about the news. This time, however, something is distinctively different about how the deer is acting.

Notes: Author tagged for light angst, but ngl the ending did not feel like 'light' angst to me lol. Hurt in a good way.

Finger Tips and Dotted Lips by The_Penny_Tails

Summary: Alastor has sensitive hands; he finds this out at the most inconvenient time possible. Unfortunately, Vox is the one who ends up paying the price for it.

Having to help a seemingly broken Overlord whilst navigating this new discovery proves to be a little more taxing than the Radio Demon could ever have imagined.

Notes: Alastor is such a troll in this omg.

Thawing Out by Seaside_Dreaming

Summary: Seeing a small crack in Vox's screen nags at Alastor more than he likes to admit.

Vox wishes things were better. Sooner or later, Alastor has to come to terms with the fact he has feelings, in general.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. HIGHLY suggest reading the prequel one-shot. It's not necessary to understand the plot here, but you should read it anyway.

Static by passthevoxcord

Summary: Vox creates a new and improved version of himself to please Val, only to be replaced by it. He is left beaten and broken with no one to turn to . . . except maybe his oldest enemy, Alastor.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Hating you feels so good by TwoBitJester

Summary: Vox obsesses over his returned enemy and finds himself a little too wound up

Notes: Very good PWP.

Laced Over Dinner by hazbinhearts

Summary: Vox is persuaded to dress a little differently over dinner for Alastor, but finds it remarkably uncomfortable as the night goes on. Written for VoxWeek21 Day 3: dressing up [appearance, formal, dance].

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Corsets. 😳

Observer by DeviousPossum

Summary: He moved the cursor to click off, when he suddenly heard a very recognizable static laced tone.

Alastor.

Alastor.

What the fuck. Alastor is singing.

Vox unintentionally ran claw marks across his desk, an increasingly common habit for him as of late. He grimaced at his now ruined table and unsuccessfully tried to reel in an inexplicable feeling that could only be described as jealousy.

Notes: Porn with a tiny bit of plot in the first chapter. :3

RadioTV Week 2021 Series by Heliosolar

Summary: Pretty much the title; various prompts.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. All worth reading, though they aren't connected.

Sharkblocking by Anonymous

Summary: Alastor is Vox’s number one rival. Incidentally, though nobody involved is aware of it, Alastor’s number one rival is actually Vox’s pet shark.

In which Alastor is actually a little obsessed back and Vark is the biggest obstacle to Radiostatic short of canon itself.

Notes: VARK!

Control + V by TooManyPsuedonyms

Summary: Vox and Alastor have a... thing. Not quite a relationship, but something. Vox is too scared to define it properly, and Alastor is dead set that Vox will eventually get bored of his lack of reciprocity and move on.

So, Valentino tries to show Vox what he is missing.

... too bad Vox didn't want him like that. ... too bad Alastor didn't know want is a vague word.

Notes: Heed the tags!!! There's currently a sequel; I haven't read it yet, but I definitely plan to. 👀

gift of the magi by vol_ctrl

Summary: "... Although husband and wife are now left with gifts that neither one can use, they realize how far they are willing to go to show their love for each other, and how priceless their love really is ..."

Alastor/Vox established relationship fluff.

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Very sweet. ^_^

the lost tape by vol_ctrl

Summary: There's a NEW ambitious media demon in Pentagram City. You never get a second chance to make a first impression, right?

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

12 Days of Yuletide by vol_ctrl

Summary: A parody of the 12 Days of Christmas traditional tune, as can only be done by Vox gifting to his beloved adversary.

Or, a series of letters from the desk of Alastor upon receiving a series of increasingly elaborate gifts from his insufferably modern foil during the holiday season.

Notes: Written before season 1 release.

Fear makes the heart grow fonder by Graysongirl

Summary: After a bit of inspiration from an unlikely source Vox comes up with the plan that scaring Alastor is the best route to gaining his affections. The haunted house at LuLu World seems like the perfect (safe) environment for a bit of pre-planned scaring...

[Stand-alone staticradio]

Notes: Written before season 1 release. Funny af. "Red! Red!" XD

Cordyceps, King of Ants by spappest

Summary: Vox is tired. Of Valentino. Of Velvette. Of Alastor, and Hell, and everything in between. He can't escape, but he can cut himself off, piece by piece, until he feels nothing at all. Alastor takes exception to this approach and commissions a certain princess of Hell to fix his foe. Now Vox has a hotel of misfits on one side of him, overlords on the other, and Alastor crushing his cage ever smaller.

Clearly, the only way Vox will get any peace and quiet is to just kill God.

Valentino did always tell him that he had no chill.

Notes: Started before season 1 was released. Technically features Staticmoth but it's not the focus as much as Radiostatic (which honestly has a relationship status of ??? not romantic but also not friendship or even strictly enemies...just...Alastor and Vox). O_O I think about this fic on a daily basis.

Russian Roulette by spappest

Summary: Vox and Alastor play a game that Vox is way too excited to lose.

Notes: Started before season 1 release. Take note!!! I'm putting this on the Radiostatic list because it's almost entirely centered on Alastor and Vox's dynamic, but the romantic relationship is Staticmoth. The Staticmoth is just not featured very much.

Vox and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Afterlife by spappest

Summary: Alastor goes into rut.

Vox has a bad time. Then a good time. Then a very bad time. Then a brief vacation. Then a confusing time.

Notes: Background Staticmoth, but Radiostatic is most prominent. Funny af. Alastor and Vox have...a very special relationship. Lol.

Killer Ex by FanGirl48

Summary: Alastor was a serial killer who valued his privacy. So when someone who claims to know what he is tries to barge into his life he can't let them live, his secret must be protected at all cost.

A normally easy task easy task becomes complicated when Alastor's ex-boyfriend is dragged into the whole thing forcing the serial killer to go visit them for the first time in seven years.

Notes: Human AU. Love me some possessive Alastor. <3

Negotiations by FanGirl48

Summary: Vox had no interest in attending a meeting between Heaven and Hell following the failed attack by the Adam and his Exterminators. Alastor's little gremlin caused the mess, so he can go clean it up. Vox had nothing wanted nothing to do with the radio demon, king of hell or heaven.

But that was before Lucifer made the media overlord aware of Valentino's little job offer to his daughter.

Damnit Valentino!

Notes: "And they were roommates!" "Oh my god they were roommates"

Down, Up, and Back Down by CowboyEnthusiast

Summary: Vox dies. Surprisingly no one takes this well.

Or, Vox dies and Alastor tries to drag his soul back from Purgatory.

Notes: Another fic I think about daily... Heavy themes. Heed the tags.

Hold Me Like a Grudge by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor has spent a long time running from Vox. Vox has chased after him almost as long. When suppressants fail throughout the city, they finally collide.

Notes: Omegaverse. Fun fact about this author: all their Radiostatic fic titles are from Fall Out Boy lyrics lol. (I fucking love FOB sue me.) I haven't yet read all of Rachello344's Radiostatic fics, BUT I have them all on my To Read list because I've loved everything I've read of theirs so far lol.

What Makes You So Special? by Rachello344

Summary: With Lucifer’s return to the Pride Ring, the other Deadly Sins were bound to take notice. When Asmodeus stops by the Pride Ring to visit the Morningstars, the Vees are able to make a deal to host a pop-up shop of the incredibly popular Lust Ring establishment, Ozzie’s, bringing it to the Pride Ring for the first time.

When Vox and Alastor both attend the restaurant’s opening night, long repressed sparks fly, forever changing their relationship.

Notes: Because of the pacing of this (sex first romance later), I feel like this is the Radiostatic equivalent of Femalefonzie's Freak-A-Zoid (a really good Staticmoth fic). This is hands down one of the most romantic Radiostatic fics I've read. ^_^

Hold Me Tight (or Don't) by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor and Vox finally come to an understanding, both of each other and of what they each mean to the other. Their relationship evolves accordingly, one concession at a time, until they both get everything they could possibly want: power, companionship, and even love.

Notes: So, so good.

Keep You Like an Oath by Rachello344

Summary: Alastor normally wouldn’t bother with the chore—breaking into V Tower was quite a lot of work, even for him—but he found himself curious about what Vox and his little friends might be working on. Especially since whatever it was had Angel concerned enough to report back to the rest of the hotel about it.

Of course, before he can learn anything, he’ll need to sneak past Vox’s watchful eye…

Notes: God it's just...so good. Read it. Radiostatic reconciliation. One thing I love about Rachello344 writing Radiostatic is Alastor's terms of endearment for Vox. ^_^

To Be Yours by pinegreenapples

Summary: Alastor hears something he hasn't heard in years. He decides to investigate why now, of all times, this frequency has turned back on. Vox is not amused.

Notes: Hurt no comfort. Hurts so good, though. ;-;

oleanders in june by spoondrifts

Summary: It seems like while Alastor was off preying on the self-destructive addictions of desperate sinners, Vox was off getting himself beaten half to death, probably from spouting belligerent nonsense at someone with violent tendencies and a far lower threshold for disrespect than Alastor. Not everyone finds poor Vox’s chatter as charming as he does.

If Vox is unconscious, then Vox is not being entertaining, and Alastor came here to have fun, not play nursemaid.

Or: Drunk on power and itching to cause some mayhem, Alastor hunts down the only person in the city who's always up for anything. Unfortunately, he finds Vox... not exactly in tip-top shape. No matter; he can work with that too.

Notes: ^_^ Very sweet.

equilibrium by curtailed

Summary: Post-Finale. The Hotel finds Alastor right on the front lawn, unconscious and bleeding, still injured from Adam's blade. While he recovers, all of Hell scrambles to find out who his mysterious rescuer is.

Meanwhile, Vox tries not to freak out that he might have accidentally made a soul bond to save that deer asshole's life. All he had wanted to do was to scope out the ruins of Alastor's radio tower. Fuck him for being curious, he supposed.

Notes: This fic has me in a CHOKEHOLD. I love the characterizations so, so much. Manages to fit in humor alongside the angst. One of the best fight scenes I've ever seen put into words. Curtailed really took Vox and Alastor as characters and planned out a cool fucking fight scene using their unique abilities. I automatically love anything tagged with "one fell first but the other fell harder" lol.

candlelight by curtailed

Summary: Despite the #SirRepentious success, Heaven remains skeptical of a sinner's ability to change. Logic gets lost somewhere, and really, what's a better way to show sinners can be marginally less horrible than to stick two Overlords who hate each other in the same living space?

OR

Alastor and Vox play house.

Notes: The comedy of Alastor and Vox being forced to be civil with each other and then unintentionally becoming very domestic together. Lol

wallow by curtailed

Summary: A 2+1 fic. Two times when Alastor and Vox were in a love triangle (hard quote on love, hard quote on triangle), and the one time Alastor had Vox to himself.

Notes: Only 1 (very good) chapter so far, but safe to say pretty heavy already. Heed the tags.

Addicted by Dancingdog

Summary: After the latest argument with Valentino, Vox finds himself at the Hazbin Hotel. An injured Alastor is less-than-pleased to see him, which is understandable considering they are enemies.

But as more and more of Valentino's venom leaves his system, Vox begins to remember his days before V-Tower and he learns exactly why Alastor rejected his offer all those decades ago.

His memories return in fits and spurts - not all of them good. His past with Alastor isn't something he expected and it turns out that he isn't the only one suffering.

Notes: Dude. This fic hurt me. Such good angst.

Radio Made the Video Star Series by songofhell

Summary: Snippets of Vox and Alastor's afterlife, and their journey from strangers to friends to enemies to... something more.

Notes: Pretty much what the series summary says - a series of installments that chronicle the beginning and subsequent evolution of Alastor and Vox's relationship. Very good, has tons of possessive!Alastor, which I die for.

Uneasy by Saezs

Summary: “Something’s wrong with Voxy.”

Velvette’s eyes snapped to the tall moth pimp. “And?” she prompted with a raised eyebrow. As if she needed to deal with two piss babies this close to a show. Valentino shrugged, tapping away on his phone, and walked away to stand threateningly close to her new models. Before she could snap at him, she saw it; his wings were twitching. Barely noticeable to strangers, just under the hum of the building’s lights, he was squeaking with each tap of his fingers. She felt unease and a healthy dose of aggravation swirl in her stomach.

Or: Vox was roofied and sexually assaulted. Velvette tries to be better than her mother. Unexpected connections are formed.

Notes: Heed the tags! Features genderfluid Vox. :)

Five Times Vox and Alastor Danced and One Time They Didn't by Drowsy_Salamander

Summary: “I say, good fellow, what are you doing on the ground like that?”

The voice was perky, cheerful, and bright. It had a crisp mid-Atlantic accent, the kind Vox remembered being all the rage for stage and film performers back when he first entered the broadcast industry. The diction was crystal clear with every sound enunciated separately to maximise clarity, the consonants clicked and the vowels were broad. It was a performer’s voice.

A voice for radio.

Oh shit.

... Five times Vox and Alastor danced and one time Vox and Alastor didn't.

From their first meeting through their friendship, to their enmity and fighting. From infatuation to yearning to animosity. Dancing is a partnership, is it not?

Notes: Each chapter so far has been a different type of dance, which is really neat. Especially chapter 2. ^_^ That said, there's a feeling of impending doom, knowing what happens to their relationship eventually... Not saying that as a deterrent but just a comment on how I felt while reading it lol. It's very sweet, which is why it hurts to think of future chapters. 🙃

Days Long Past by Momo52

Summary: All sinners of hell bore some physical marks of how they lived and died. Some physical manifestations were more obvious while others were subtle. Vox was not an exception to this rule.

While his television head was an obvious indication of his life while on Earth, the mark he bore from his death was far more subdued. Luckily enough, his shame was easily concealed behind a high collar. Unfortunately, he is just as well known in his afterlife as he was in his life. As such, trying to make everyone believe that he is so much stronger than what his death implies is a constant battle. He only wished that he wasn’t the hardest one to convince.

Notes: I think platonic Radiostatic is the endgame here. Still pretty early in the story, but I'm really liking this author's depiction of Vox and Alastor's pasts. Heed the tags. There are heavy subjects such as suicide (very big theme for Vox's pov) and period-typical racism (in Alastor's past) present in the story.

Remote Access by x-UsoTsuki-x (its_not_reael)

Summary: In the aftermath of Alastor and Vox's electrifying on-air showdown, Vox finds himself unusually rattled. His usual suave demeanor is slipping, much to his cohorts' amusement – and concern. Velvet can do little more than roll her eyes at his antics. Valentino, on the other hand, is convinced that all Vox needs to do is get fucked and relax.

or, alternatively...

The tech-savvy overlord manages to snag a virus from a porn site and finds himself in the arms of his worst enemy.

Notes: Fairly certain this is firmly Radiosilence based on the tags (and the direction of the story so far). Very funny, very hot. Vox is pathetic in this one. Lol

Nun-thing Like You've Ever Seen Series by A_Cypress_Coffin

Summary: Alastor, the feared radio demon with more blood on his hands than most of hell combined, wasn't always as we imagine him. There was a time where instead of a dapper suit and smile he donned a simple vow and habit. That didn't last of course, but the journey is quite something.

Notes: This author has a great sense of humor, lmao. I enjoyed the unique headcanons for Alastor's backstory. The tag that hooked me: "Accidentally becoming a better person through bad domming and found family".

Empathia by The_Oblivious_Swallow

Summary: Creating new technology is boring, sex is physically unappealing, the other Vee’s are so annoying, annoying, annoying! Even Vark, his baby, his pride and joy, doesn’t stir the same joy in his heart like he should.

So, Vox had concluded that it had to go. For his sake.

Notes: Contains Staticmoth, but Radiostatic seems like the endgame (I write this as there is one chapter still left). Really interesting idea. I love Vox.exe so much. ;-;

Every Madman Has His Vice by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “What the fuck do you want, Alastor? Was it not enough to kill me all those years ago? Now, you had to go for the people I loved and the only things I had left in this fucking Hellhole?”

“It was my fault,” Alastor whispers as he approaches Vox slowly, as if he was some sort of wounded animal he didn’t want to scare off. His prey. “Vox, I’m sorry. If I had a chance to redo that night, I would never have hurt you to this extent. I’ll never harm you again.”

“That’s seven years too fucking late, Alastor.”

OR: Seven years ago, instead of Alastor disappearing, it was Vox who left instead.

Notes: I’m so fucking here for this AU. Possessive Alastor, Vox helping with the hotel, Husk is still an Overlord, yessss

Metathesiophobia (Fear of Change) by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: There's a lot that can change in seven years.

But never once had Alastor expected for something like this from his old rival and older friend.

Or, Alastor and Vox start to rekindle their old friendship again after a shocking discovery strikes the deer demon.

Notes: QPR Radiostatic with MtF Vox! Contains a smidge of Staticmoth, but it's in the background and not the focus. Very well written.

surimi and venison by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: A series of short drabbles (500+ words) in an interconnected universe (peep the tags, they're still in hell), centering around Alastor and his new pet fish... shark... television thing. Will (hopefully) update 1-2 times a week. Written as my attempt at a Mermay series.

Notes: Like the summary says, Mermay prompts featuring SharkHybrid!Vox, along with Alastor, who literally saw Vox and decided to make him his pet. Lol.

an arm and a leg, my dear, les yeux d'la tête by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: “I mean, usually when Val gets mad he gets like, super pissy too an’ starts destroyin’ shit ‘round the set and in his clubs, but like, usually Vox can calm him down. Problem is, where the Hell is that guy? I haven’t seen ‘im round the Tower for like, a month or two now. That ain’t normal.”

“What, so you mean he just up and left?”

“No, but like… he hasn’t been seen ‘in public’ for like, two months now. It’s startin’ to get suspicious. Like, I ‘unno if I’m just paranoid or something, but… Vox is like, the fuckin’ face of Hell’s Entertainment District. When he’s not round for a bit, that’s nothing to worry about on its own… but when he’s not round for a bit an’ Val and Velvette are creeping around, looking for his rival…? I mean… the dots are connecting. If Al did something…”

“If Vox was dead, we would know.” OR: Two months ago, Vox went missing. Right now, it seems as if Alastor has something to hide.

Notes: Vox gets attic-wifed and wears a virgin killer sweater. ^_^

we'll go down together in the ashes of our love by phantasm_png (chibellero)

Summary: Glimpses into the Radio Demon's life as he reluctantly navigates parenthood with his co-parenting partner and the demon princess hoisted onto him by the King and Queen of Hell.

Loosely inspired by Spy X Family.

Notes: CUTE! I love domestic Radiostatic.

What Has Been by Tianren

Summary: Vox has never known peace. From being the son of a egocentric cult leader, to being the boyfriend of a self absorbed abuser. Vox has managed to build a pretty sad life for himself. The only spot of sunshine that had ever blessed his existence was when he met an amateur true crime investigative journalist, with a podcast named, Alastor. The man was his only source of unfiltered news and contact to the world outside his father’s compound. But after Vox finally escaped the cult he waited for Alastor. Waited weeks in their assigned meeting spot just to be forgotten. Vox was convinced he’d stopped waiting for Alastor years ago until he meets the man again seven years later at a hotel. What will reconnecting with his past lead to and will it help him escape the hell he’s built for himself?

Takes place in the late 2000s early 2010s

Trigger warning for religious trauma and abuse as major themes of this story. Will add more warnings if they arise as I go on.

Notes: Really interesting human AU concept!

(Fic rec list to be continued)

[tookthe-405]

VBS

Prologue :

“Sun bleached Flies” ~ Ethel cain

DAILY CLICK🍉🍉

DONATIONS AND INFOS🇵🇸

rebel!ellie x fem!reader

PLAYLIST

summary: you grew up religious without a choice, and in summer you would get send to vacation bible school. The camp always felt like prison to you, until a very interesting girl appeared.

c/w: smut in future chapters!!! , religious trauma, homophobia

1,1 k words

24/11/2004

Age 16 Reader pov:

"And as the Bible says in Micah 7:7: But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my savior, my God will hear me"

Your eyes burn, not because you are crying, but because of the very bright spotlights that are shining on Pastor Tobias. The youth lesson takes place every Wednesday evening and today's topic is faith and trust.

The paper and pen in your hand feels heavy and rough, you should have already written down what you’ve learned new, but your head is just so empty today.

As it has been so often in the last few weeks, which makes you feel guilty and ashamed again. You stare at the blank page and don't feel anything, that you could put into words and on paper. You can think of many questions that you would like to ask, but are too embarrassed for.

"hey is everything ok?"

your head follows the whispers next to you. Hazel looks at you worried. This girl is the only reason you enjoy being here, and there is no judgment in her look.

“I’m a bit stuck on this today” you whisper back and point at the empty paper, she nods.

you could feel the eyes of the employes. When sermons are held it is always very quiet and all these people you grew up with are listening to the man in front of you, the faintest whispers can be heard. You quickly concentrate again and look ahead.

"We're closing the sermon today with a prayer and the requests that you gave us"

On the board next to him are various prayer requests that the young people brought to the lesson. But a few of them catch your eye more than the others.

- Please release me from the shame within me - Let me grow with your word - The temptations of the evil one shall not harm me

The prayer lasts 7 minutes and your mind keeps wandering. When you pray, you always forget where you are and feel a bit stuck in your head. That's why you've given up the habit of closing your eyes, which helps you to ease the restlessness in which your inner self is bursting. You can't get rid of it at anyway. You observe the people around you a bit. You know every face all too well, the reason for that includes going to a the private Christian school and the many prayer evenings that your parents and siblings like to attend to.

When praying, each face shows a small part of the person. Some look deep in thought, others look as if they were about to burst into tears at any second and one or the other sit on their seats with a contented and calm expression on their faces. You would give a lot to feel whatever they are feeling.

Hazel's expression reminds you of a frightened animal that has just been captured. She was one of the fearful prayers.

All you wanna do, is try to get her out of this state and keep her safe with you, but you know that you can't do that for her. Only the god she prays to can do that.

"Amen"

“Amen” everyone says together and the word leaves your lips quietly.

Everyone stands up from their seats and whispers spread. You know all these people and you knew from your private life that some of them weren't good people, but the church seemed to change that completely. At least for a short time. As soon as the free time begins, you notice that the facades are falling again. This has always confused you a bit.

Two years ago, so many people were converted here, that the church was rebuilt and there were now many different rooms for different concerns. There was the sermon Hall, which is full every Sunday and is used for worship services. There is also a kitchen and dining room with couches. One floor higher was the room for the young people, which is used every Wednesday to pray, study and spend time together. A few couches and many chairs with tables.

The whole youth group is there and a few people start to play games. Some have a religious background, some don't.

After the sermon, you and Hazel go from the sermon hall to the youth room, where a few people from your class have already made themselves comfortable on the couch and seats. At school you always talk to Hazel, who is a very social person and that's why you are forced to talk to other people as well.

Samuel and another boy are talking as you both sit down on chairs, and the whole group seems interested in the conversation.

"My mother said that, Pastor Tobias told her on Sunday"

"What's going on?" Hazel's gentle voice asks Samuel.

He excitedly turns away from the other boy and addresses Hazel.

"My mother said that we were going to a camp this summer, we young people, there was a lake, forest, church, everything"

“Do we have to camp?” Asks Kate, a girl in a class below you.

The thought of having to go camping immediately puts you off, but you'd have to go anyway if it actually takes place.

After all, Samuel talks a lot but it doesn't always reflect reality.

"She said there is a youth hostel with lots of rooms, but they are shared."

You could live with that. Hazel nudges you with a smile. Now the excitement hits you too, if you and Hazel are in the same room together, swimming in the lake all day long and there were going to be funny events, it will definitely be pretty fun.

You smile back excitedly and the other people around you seem to be looking forward to it too.

“Have you heard of Anne Marie’s husband?”

The group becomes quiet and looks at Sofia, with a thoughtful look and crossed arms.

"A few people from church mentioned something but I don't think it's true," Naveah says next to her and rolls her eyes, but Sofia shakes her head confidently and leans forward.

“My brother said it was true, he was there at the prayer meeting for him” Naveah’s face falls and that made you a little nervous.

"what?" ask someone, but you won't know who.

"They prayed that his homosexual desires would disappear"

The room generally seems to become a little quieter; the other groups of friends also seemed to have heard the word, which had probably never been uttered here before.

The tense atmosphere spreads through the room like poison and you hold your breath.

" I didn`t knew he had such disgusting thoughts"

you are too shocked to notice who said it, but you still clearly hear the others agree.

“The sin is disgusting, but we should pray for him,”

Austin decides, but his gaze seems a little concernt.

After the prayer you feel emptier than before, almost as if you had been sucked dry. Your thoughts left more marks and you knew what you would pray for tonight before you went to sleep.

INTERACT WITH THE LINKS ABOUT PALESTINE 🇵🇸

a/n: this is a bit more angsty and can trigger some people so pls read the warnings!! I felt a bit uncomfortable too writing it, but it’s still important to talk and write about it, because it is reality!!!

!!!Pls Reblog and like!!!

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff Needs a Hug - Chapter Two - Series

Summary: Since joining the team, Wanda Maximoff has captured all of your attention, even if she has no idea about this. In a six-part story, you'll do your best to give her everything she needs and maybe she never thought she deserved it. Along the way, you two might end up realizing you were in love with each other the whole time.

Warnings: (+18), Friends to lovers, smut in the last few chapters, slow burn, conversations about self-love and individual worth, mentions of anxiety, past trauma, avengers being a family, canon-fix, a lot of magic. Words: 5.246k

General Masterlist || Series Masterlist || AO3 || Wattpad

--//--

Chapter Two - Wanda Maximoff needs a therapist

"I'm not hungry."

It would be strange to say that you knew she hadn't eaten anything for at least 12 hours, because you were sure it would look like you were monitoring her, and it was the complete opposite of that. You noticed her, it was different.

Shifting the weight of your feet hesitantly, you put down the tray of food. "Okay. Can I still eat next to you, though?"

It’s Wanda's turn to hesitate. She doesn't want to send you out, to block you off. She really doesn't want to. But today, it's officially been six months since Pietro was dead, and she wasn't feeling the least bit sociable.

Still, you stared with puppy dog eyes, and Wanda was giving you space to get in before she even thought about it.

You didn't eat quietly - You filled the silence of the room with as many things as you could talk about. About the team, about work, about television. Every joke was an attempt to make her smile, and it was only at the first laugh that Wanda began to cry.

"God, I'm so sorry, I'm such a mess." She tried to disguise her own tears, wiping her face with the sleeve of her blouse and evading your gaze. But you moved away from the table and knelt in front of her on the carpet. Gentle hands on her knees.

"Talk to me." You asked in a whisper. "I'm right here for you."

Wanda collapsed. She doesn't think she had ever cried so hard, not since Pietro was gone. She just couldn't stop - He was gone and it was forever. Nothing would ever change that. And with each passing day, she seemed to miss him more. She wondered when it would get better, and you, holding her in bed against your chest, hands caressing her back until she stopped sobbing, said it wouldn't.

"I'm sorry." You said immediately. "There is no magic formula. You lose someone, and the pain gets numbed with time, but it never goes away. The thing is, you're not going to face it alone anymore. I'm right here."

She sobs. "What happens when I lose you too?"

You huff softly. "I'm fucking immortal, what are you talking about?" You tease, managing to make her laugh past the crying. She hides her face in your collarbone, perhaps it's closer than a friend should get, yet neither of you makes any mention of pulling away. A moment later, you comment, "If you want, we can go to the memorial. Pay tribute to him."

Wanda nods, exhaustion falling on her body, forcing her to fall asleep. "Thank you." She whispers and is asleep before she hears your reply.

It's not difficult to get released from the missions to go to Sokovia next weekend. Wanda has the impression that you have blackmailed someone.

In fact, the country no longer exists. It is a very sad trip for her, despite your thoughtfulness.

Everything she knew was gone, and now all that was left was a black stone with the names of the victims. It took her almost ten minutes to find her brother's.

The words she muttered were not so familiar to you, and with your hands in the pockets of the thick coat you were wearing, you waited for Wanda to finish her prayers before commenting:

"I didn't know you were a religious person."

She gives you a sad smile, instinctively intertwining her arm with yours, and you don't mind one bit. "I'm not, but our parents were. Jewish. Pietro tried to follow their faith for a while, but when you grow up in the midst of war, orphanage to orphanage, sometimes you lose your connection to that kind of thing."

You blink in surprise at the information, but nod in understanding. Walking side by side down the old street, you let Wanda guide you to a coffee shop you saw on the way.

"What do you want to do now?" You ask, once inside, sitting at a table in the back.

Wanda smiles sadly. "I think I just want to lie down and not move."

You swallow dryly, hands moving to hers on the table. "I think you should talk to someone."

Wanda frowns in confusion, "I'm talking to you."

You stroke her fingers, drawing patterns that shiver her skin. If you notice, you don't say anything. 

"I meant..." You almost hesitate, not wanting to press too far. But Wanda has been your friend for six months now, and you care enough to say. "I'll always be here, of course, but I don't know what to say very often. You should talk to someone, a professional, who will."

Wanda is surprised, really. She doesn't have any kind of prejudice toward therapy, it just never occurred to her, especially due to the way she grew up. No one had time to listen to any of her anxieties in the midst of an armed conflict. 

The possibility of solving her problems sounded almost absurd. It made her laugh with nervousness.

"What? Like... therapy?" She needed to confirm, and you nodded immediately.

"I did it for a while, I really needed it." You counter. "You know Sam has a veterans support group, right? We've all been through some pretty bad shit, Wands. It's important to deal with it in a healthy way. Natasha was in intensive therapy for a long time after the Red Room, and so was Steve when he got off the ice. Tony and Clint do follow-ups to this day for PTSD."

Wanda gathers her hands from yours, suddenly very exposed. Very vulnerable. "I don't...I don't think that's a good idea."

You don't push. Never. Instead, you smile at her and nod. "All right then. Let's order some breakfast."

But when you get back to the compound, the same day at the quinjet, Wanda calls you before you go to your room.

"Thank you, for today." She murmurs sincerely, taking a deep breath before adding. "About your suggestion, I'll think about it."

You move closer again, and hold her by the shoulders, before kissing her forehead, and then each cheek. Sweet and firm, and it makes her skin prickle, her chest warm. Wanda almost melts against you, static and afraid to move and causing you to pull away. Her fists clenched at her sides. 

"I'm here for whatever you need, Wands."  You assure her, and it's a good thing you leave after that because Wanda has the impression that she would do something stupid if you remained that close.

–//–

Therapy is strange for the first few weeks.

Her doctor is very kind and is part of Shield which is a good thing because she has experience with special agents who have dealt with death on a daily basis. And well, sad pasts are not lacking for war heroes.

Wanda thinks she might be getting better when she buys some Jewish items for her room.

"Maybe I should get a haircut." Your phrase immediately attracts her attention. You are in her room, helping her with the cleaning. Or rather, Wanda is cleaning and you are getting in the way and looking annoyingly pretty while doing it.

"Why?" she asks confused and curious, using magic to lift a couch. She's tidying up because it was your idea of a room that had her whole personality, and Wanda simply accepted that she didn't know how to say no to your ideas.

"Because I'm a secret agent, of course!" You retort as if it were obvious, your elbows propped up on her bed. "Black Widows change their appearance all the time, you know. Nat told me. And I'm supposed to preserve my secret identity."

"You don't have a secret identity." Wanda retorts. "You literally tell everyone that you are the Iron Angel. Yesterday we went to buy bread and you introduced yourself like that."

"Okay, first of all, rude." You sit down on the bed indignantly. "I was trying to get us a discount!"

"With bread?" 

"I'm a poor person, Wanda!" At this point, both of you were chuckling. She grumbles for you to stop getting in the way of her cleaning, throwing a pillow at you, and consequently losing concentration on the air-raised couch, which makes a loud noise when it falls. 

"Tsk, let me help you, little witch." You tease, leaving the bed and hooking your sleeves up. Wanda rolls her eyes.

"I'm not a witch."

You laugh. "Debatable, pretty girl. All you do is these magic tricks. And who uses magic? That's right, witches."

Wanda rolls her eyes, definitely unable to have this discussion, or any when you lift the couch with one hand. Muscles flexed and exposed by the short, tight shirt.

Something inside her boils, right at the pit of her stomach.

Maybe she's getting sick.

"Earth to Wanda." She blinks embarrassedly away when she notices you calling her. You chuckle, thinking she has been distracted by the cleaning. "Shall we get something to eat later? I think it's Steve's night to cook and he's terrible at it. Want to grab a pizza with me, maybe go to a movie?"

That screams date energy, and Wanda agrees before actually thinking about it. You offer her a wink, pleased with the confirmation, and go back to talking to her normally as if Wanda isn't hyperventilating over the amount of exposed skin on your stomach when you keep holding the couch up in the air and gesticulating as you tell stories.

If she survived the afternoon of cleaning, she might survive the date. Of friends.

—//—

Apparently, you enjoyed Wanda's company as much as she enjoyed yours. 

It was a good thing and eventually turned movie nights into a recurring event. Wanda sometimes forgot how shy and introverted you could be outside the tower - with the Avengers, who were your family, you were comfortable and always making jokes with everyone. Outside, fumbling with simple matters like ordering in a cafeteria reminded Wanda that you had in fact grown up in a laboratory.

She was just happy to follow whatever schedule you were comfortable with, more or fewer days outside or under the covers, what mattered was if you were together. 

And it didn't take long for you to grow practically inseparable. It was almost strange to think that when she first arrived at the Compound, Wanda barely exchanged two syllables with you, and now, she sleeps in your room practically every night.

The thing about intimacy, though, is that it included sharing. Even subjects that make you cranky.

"I just have a connection with him." Wanda half-heartedly justifies herself, because you are, again, muttering about the strange interest she had in Vision. 

Wanda thinks it's because you don't trust machines - After Dr. Zola, she couldn't blame you. But if anyone asked any Avenger why you didn't like Vision, none of them would think Zola was the reason.

You hum at her justification, and Wanda huffs softly. "What's the problem? You always act so weirdly about this."

You frown. "Oh, I'm sorry I don't like your new best friend."

Wanda crosses her arms. "Don't be silly, Vision is not my best friend. You are." Your gaze begrudgingly softens over Wanda's sweetness. She smiles at your insistent pout. "Is that what this is about, then? You're jealous of Vision."

You huff indignantly, leaving the small pile of blankets on her bed where you were chatting in a jump. "Jealous? Now you're the one being silly!" You retort, cheeks softly rosy. Wanda stares at you in surprise at the scene. "You can have as many friends as you want, I don't care."

She looks away, uncrossing her arms to play with the loose threads of the mattress. "I don't, though." She mumbles half sadly, shrugging when you look at her with confusion. "I don't really have any other friends, Y/N."

The anger unravels at once from your chest, and you sigh, crawling back onto the bed. "Nonsense. Everyone loves you because you're amazing." You retort, getting a weak laugh from her. You lean over her, nose brushing her cheek, and Wanda holds her breath, but it is only an affectionate gesture, and soon, you are on top of her, face on her collarbone and weight on her body. Arms around her, keeping her pinned on the bed and your body. Warm and safe. "Everyone here is your friend. Don't forget that, Wan. The Avengers are your family. I am your family."

She feels something burn behind her eyes. For so long, the only family she had was Pietro, and she lost him too. And now, she had this group of people she could lose as well. Terrifying, honestly. And the thought of losing you made her hold you tighter.

"I don't like fighting with you." She confesses, and you chuckle softly.

"We weren't fighting, I was just jealous." Your admission brings butterflies to her stomach, but she masks it with a giggle. "Don't mind me. Be friends with Vision, he could use some company."

You may have said it for real at that moment, but it didn't mean you made living with Vision any friendlier, given that at every opportunity you responded to him with rude storms, and interrupted any moment Wanda might have with the synthesized. She didn't mind, your company was always welcome, but he might have been annoyed. But who cares about Vision anyway?

While your relationship with the synthesized didn't improve, you nevertheless worked to make Wanda's relationship better with other Avengers.

For Natasha, Clint and Steve there was no need to try too hard - The three of them were very affectionate towards Wanda, and patronized her naturally. Always teaching her as much as they could and keeping her company.

For Sam, it was easy too, because he was a very sociable gentleman who was available for almost every movie night. He was also easily impressed by Wanda's magic, and it was some sort of fresh air to be around someone who hadn't fought her and didn't have any bad memories about Ultron.

Tony was the tricky one. You were trying to convince him to apologize to Wanda, without being awkward or forced, and he was not a person who dealt very well with the past. Much like your friend honestly.

It was a coincidence that Wanda had a session in therapy about forgiving and moving on the same day Tony approached her in the kitchen with a tablet in hand that he placed on the counter next to the glass of juice she had just picked up.

The team stood in absolute silence, watching the interaction from the breakfast table.

"Maximoff, I want to talk to you." He announced seriously, one hand in his pocket. Wanda frowned slightly.

"Okay." She muttered. Tony took a deep breath, bringing his attention to the tablet and on it, clicking so that a small hologram of data appeared in the air. It was several numbers and Wanda figured it was for some mission. But Tony cleared his throat and explained:

"These are the shipping lots for all the Stark companies' ballistic supply." He begins. "It took some time to gather everything, but it's here. In 99, one shipment went to Sokovia. Lot 7212, collected from the rubble of a civilian building. Authorization to sell, Obadiah Stane."

Wanda crosses her arms, uncomfortable. "Stark, what is all this? Why are you bringing this up now?" She asks, looking away from the holograms of the exploded bomb, collected from a building she knows well.

Tony takes a deep breath, and faces her, "I was a different person, Wanda. I didn't care about any of it, all I wanted to do was spent my money. I didn't know what was going on at Stark companies, the war funding. I stopped that when I discovered it." He blurts out. "But, yes, I designed those weapons. And I have a share of guilt for ignoring my responsibility to them. And I want to apologize for that because my negligence caused the death of your parents."

Wanda looks down, with tears in her eyes. The other Avengers exchange tense looks and Tony swallows dryly, taking a step closer.

"I know nothing I say will change things, but I wanted to say it anyway. You're part of the Avengers now, you have my loyalty. Maybe, someday, we could even be friends." Wanda raises her eyes, returning his small smile with another.

She sighs and nods. "Thank you, Tony. For apologizing. It doesn't change things, but still... thank you."

"Of course, kiddo." He offers her a gentle tap on the shoulder before collecting the tablet and leaving the kitchen.

Wanda steals a glance at you at the table, and you smile at her in assurance before she too leaves the kitchen.

Nat is the first to speak. "Was anyone else surprised at how mature Tony was about everything?"

The Avengers laugh and go back to eating, and you keep to yourself the last two weeks you've been nagging Stark about it.

It was interesting, that less than two weeks later, Tony was the person assigned to teach Wanda to fly.

The thing is, Sam had iron wings - so he flew differently than Wanda could. And well, you wouldn't fly if you could help it because you hated heights. Yes, Wanda couldn't miss an opportunity to tease you about that. So it was left to Tony and his armor.

"You can focus your magic on your hands, like the way it works on my suit." He guided alongside her in the outer courtyard, with the whole team watching. "And keep your feet together to stay balanced. This way. Try it."

It took a few tries for Wanda to successfully glide a few inches off the ground, but it wouldn't be long before she could fly more effectively.

It was you who tried to find out if she could focus magic on other parts of her body.

The question must have come out in a strange way because it made Wanda look at you curiously, her cheeks half rosy, and the odd expression of Steve and Natasha pausing their practice behind her made you clear your throat.

"I mean you use your hands during the fighting, right?" You try to explain further. "You could try focusing your magic on the soles of your feet, to fly. And then you would have your hands free."

"Oh, I get it." She mutters. "I could try, but I don't think it would make that much difference. I control my magic mentally; It flows around my whole body, even if my hands are busy."

"You always impress me, Maximoff." You praise naturally, missing the way she smiles shyly because you are stepping closer to Nat and Steve's tatami. "And Captain Rogers keeps missing out on the same strike. How sad."

Steve frowns in confusion, "What strike?" He asks, and his distraction momentarily is enough for Nat to hit his legs and knock him down. Laughing as you do. "Very funny, ladies." He complains from the floor, but you are already waving for Wanda to follow you to the next tatami.

By now, she has grown more confident in fighting you, knowing that she won't hurt you. 

"You need some new tricks." You tease between one punch and another, half as breathless as she is. Nat has improved - considerably - Wanda's hand-to-hand combat, and well, you don't mind a bit exchanging a few punches with her. Mixed fights with magic are just as perilous as they are fun. 

Wanda laughs, deflecting five of your blows in a row with precision, before managing to grab your wrist. She's not physically stronger, by any means, and Hydra's description is that you're like a war tank, so in theory, she couldn't take you down. But her magic does the hard work, pushing your legs apart. You are thrown by her shoulders, falling backward onto the tatami. 

"I think I'm doing fine." She confidently retorts, offering you a cocky wink, before offering her hand to help you stand.

But you move your feet instead, and knock her to the ground as well, wasting no time in mounting her, immobilizing her hands. 

"You can't get cocky in a fight, that's a beginner's mistake." You recall. Wanda struggles against the grip, without any success. War tank after all, and when focused, you simply absorb any magic she tries to use on you. "You're fighting well, Maximoff. But what if you didn't even need to engage in conflict?"

She frowns, impressed that she could keep her gaze on yours when you are so close. "What do you mean?"

You lick your lips, it's your turn to be distracted by the position. Whatever is going on is completely broken with Steve and Natasha approaching the tatami, and the widow speaking before you:

"She means mind tricks, Wanda." Says the widow, and the witch hesitates immediately. You sigh, letting go of her arms, and acting way too casual when still sitting on her hip.

"Wanda is powerful, she shouldn't waste her abilities." You try, but all three of you are unsure about it.

"Hydra taught her that sort of thing. It's not a clean way to fight." Steve says, and you grimace indignantly.

"Clean? What's that supposed to mean?"

Steve sighs. "I just meant it would be an unfair fight. It's not that there's anything wrong with her powers, Y/N. It's just that it feels wrong to act like that, it's like mental torture. You don't know how it feels because Wanda never used it on you."

Wanda looks away, embarrassed. You snort indignantly. 

"That's fucking hypocrisy, Captain Rogers." You declare angrily, standing up. "You think you have some short of honor in shooting people instead of bewitching them? You're fooling yourself that's what." You continue, ignoring his attempt to explain. "Wanda is the strongest among us, and you are impairing her potential for greatness out of fear! She should not fear who she is!"

"Y/N, that's not what we're trying to do-"

"Then let me teach her!" You cut him off. "I'll take responsibility. I trust her. I can teach her to do more than Hydra did. Hell, she can get inside someone's head. The possibilities are endless! She could end any fight before she even starts them!"

Steve hesitates, but Nat rests her hands on the supports of the tatami, looking at the girl sitting on the floor. 

"What do you think, Wanda?"

The witch looks at your confident and curious gaze, and then at Steve Rogers' hesitation. She sighs and hugs her knees.

"I trust Y/N. If she teaches me, I could try to learn."

You celebrate softly, ignoring Steve's protest. Natasha smiles at you. "Just be careful, okay? I don't want anyone getting hurt."

You twitch your nose, glancing at Wanda over your shoulder. "Don't be silly, Nat. Wanda would never hurt me."

–//–

"I'm still learning to trust people again. But she is my safe haven. I don't know what I would do if I messed that up."

The confession surprises herself as much as it surprises Dr.Christina Raynor, who stops writing to raise her eyes to Wanda.

"You have a history of loss, Wanda. It's normal to hesitate and worry that it will happen again. But you need to trust that you will be able to handle it. With my help, of course. But also with the help of others, because you are no longer on your own. Death is part of life, it is a painful truth. You can learn to deal with it in a healthy way."

Wanda nodded, unsure if she could manage that at all. That day she told about starting to practice mind tricks with you next week, and how anxious it was making her. Christina reminded her that she could refuse if she was uncomfortable with the idea, but she explained that it was about the possibility of hurting you, not about her magic. The doctor asked her to act as was best for her, and not for other people.

And so, Wanda was late for her first class.

You decided to create a comfortable setting for her. Soft armchairs on the balcony, overlooking the whole compound, and a table of sweets and drinks on the side.

It felt almost like a picnic together and made Wanda's stomach churn when she remembered what she could do with you.

"Hey, little witch, I almost thought you weren't coming." You tease about the fifteen-minute delay, getting a small smile from her. "And it would be, all right, okay? If you didn't show up. We don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"It's fine." She assures as she swallows dryly, and moves closer to occupy the empty armchair in front of you. "I want to learn more about myself."

"Speaking of which, I have gifts." You state raising a finger in the air for a moment. You lean over to grab something from behind the armchair, and Wanda watches you take out books that you place on the coffee table. "Hydra had a dozen or so files on the stone, but nothing really helps us. I did my own research, and it turns out that there are a lot of people who do cool tricks. There's a bit about telekinesis here and traditional witchcraft. High chances that it's all fake, but it's better than nothing."

Wanda simply leans over and hugs you by the neck, really tight. It's so sweet, the way you care for her. She murmurs about it and your response makes her swallow dryly.

"That's what friends are for." You whisper, and she lets you go. "Shall we begin?"

She nods, confused about the conflicting emotions in her stomach. 

You place your hands on your thighs looking up at her in anticipation before giving an awkward chuckle. "Well, I suppose it's you who has to start sweetheart. I'm only here to serve. I mean. not serve, like help-"

She laughs at your nervousness, raising her hand to your face. "Shush now, darling, relax." She asks gently, appreciating the way you shut up immediately, swallowing dryly. So obedient. Her magic leaves her fingertips when she touches your eyelids. "Show me your fear."

You choke, eyes glowing red like hers as your surroundings transform.

Wanda feels different - It is your abilities, she assumes. You can absorb her magic, so in a way you are allowing for what she sees, creating and maintaining the connection. She thinks to ask about it to confirm but shuts up at what she sees.

It is the compound, completely destroyed. And there are bodies lined up that she recognizes as the team. You are crawling in the grass, blood and dirt mingling in your torn iron suit. The man on the hill, Wanda doesn't know.

"You did well, puppet." He praises, turning around. Wanda does know him, she realizes. She has seen Dr.Zola's pictures in some reports before. "Our own angel of death, bringing Hydra's vengeance on these traitors."

You cough, blood on the grass. Wanda narrows her eyes and recognizes herself in the row of bodies. You are trying to touch her, but Zola steps on your fingers. 

"That's not my name." You gasp in a sob, looking at the man, "I wouldn't hurt my family."

"But I am your family, Y/N. And you have hurt me, haven't you?"

The illusion is transformed, but you and Zola remain at the center. What was once the destroyed compound is transformed into a laboratory room. Steve and Nat, now alive, help another version of you on a stretcher with chains. The day of your escape.

"How could you destroy me, child? After all I've taught you." Zola questions, also watching your memory, the way you destroyed every piece of metal that make up the computer. "I created you, and you turned your back on me for them."

The memory turns again, to before Wanda. Your early, strange, awkward years with the Avengers and Shield. Until Hydra's influence was out of your head, and you could live with them. The nasty jokes from agents, the strange looks. Flashes of painful memories that make her sick

"That's enough." You say from the floor and repeat until Wanda realizes that Zola and you are looking directly at her. You are talking to her, not to him. "That's enough, Wands. Please."

She panted, her memories getting faster all around. "I-I don't know how to stop, I don't-"

Your eyes glitter. "Show me your fear then."

The destruction returns, but this time it is a civilian apartment. Wanda chokes on a sob, hugging her own body.

She can hear someone crying, a little girl. Under the table.

"I don't want to see this again. Please, let's come back." She asks into the empty room, and it shouldn't take you half a second to stumble up behind her, holding her by the shoulders, but Wanda feels like it took forever.

You hug her, letting her hide her face in your collarbone, and your gaze goes around. "It was here, wasn't it? When they died?"

"Y/N, please...."

"I'm not doing anything, Wan." You mutter. "It's your magic, remember? I don't control it. I just gave it back. You have to control it." You explain, rubbing her back. 

Wanda takes a deep breath, lets her arms wrap around your body, and ignores the sound of the bomb ringing in your ears. You hug her tightly. "Concentrate. Get us out of here, take us somewhere nice."

You have to close your eyes a few times to get used to the clarity of the next illusion. It is the beach, and it makes you chuckle lightly.

"What...?"

"I used to go swimming with my family when I was a kid. When it was safe." She confesses as she turns away from your collarbone, and you can see a family running into the water in the distance.

You smile at her. "I'll take you to the beach, Wands. In real life, so you can have new memories."

She nods, refusing to let go of you. "I could stay here a little longer."

You frown slightly. It's a dangerous thought because it's an illusion. A memory. Wanda shouldn't be stuck in it, she should move on. Stay with you.

"Let's go back. We've practiced enough today."

She hesitates, the sound of her mother's laughter, lifting a smiling 7-year-old Pietro under a wave making her hesitate.

"B-but..."

"Now, Wands." You insist so seriously that she swallows dryly. But your gaze softens, and your hand is warm on her cheek. "We'll make a blanket fort in your room today. We can sleep side by side and watch some TV series. What do you think?"

Paradise, she would say. And before you need confirmation, the illusion is shattered and you are back on the balcony of the complex. Both of you were half out of breath, blinking confusedly at the new brightness.

"That was..."

"Fucking incredible!" You declare with a laugh, surprising her with your excitement. "You have the most amazing skills! And that was just the first day, imagine what you'll be able to do when you master this mind stuff completely! Damn, that was wonderful. Come on, I promised you a movie night."

You are pulling her by the hand before she can protest, not that Wanda was thinking of doing so anyway.

[supop]

What do you think BTS will do next as soloists? Which member has been the most impressive in Chapter 2?

Hi hey hello :) I’ve been MIA for months but I’m surprised to see I’ve still been getting lots of asks. Did you miss me? Did ya did ya did ya? Going by the number of messages in my inbox I’d say, yes :) Sorry for ghosting you guys; I simply got bored with BTS and stopped keeping up with the group as whole. Meanwhile, their solo era has been fun to observe, huh? Some things I expected, other things I did not. I’m sure you’ve all missed supop thoughts. So, without further adieu, here are my guesses for 2023-2024, in no particular order:

Truthfully, I’ve been trying to post for the past 3 days but tumblr is glitching, and none of my posts are saving. Just as I was about to say F it.... if you can read this, then the issue must be fixed, right? This post hasn’t been proofread, so ignore any grammatical errors and the weird use of punctuation. I have a flight to catch soon, so I’ll answer more asks when I land, and as always.... keep it cute~

Individual YouTube channels (starting off with this because there’s been rumors about it for months now; I doubt all members will have one, but I feel like j-hope or Jungkook may go this route. I actually started to believe it when j-hope posted about his new Leica camera a while back. I know he’s into photography, but there’s always a deeper meaning behind everything he does/posts and he’s been carrying that camera around to all the events he’s been attending; maybe it’s just me overthinking, but it’s giving vlog material at the very least. Each member has a YouTube topic channel, but this will likely be a platform for more direct professional/business use where other creatives are featured or personal use for vlogging, trips, unedited material etc. without constant company oversight; aka without every single piece of content being scheduled by bighit/hybe and distributed via weverse; I also wonder if any more of them will get solo shows like Suchwita on the BangtanTV channel)

Individual Twitter accounts (this one seems farfetched, but so were their instagrams at one point; if they do indeed go this route I can eventually see some members leaving it up to the company to handle their respective social medias while others take a more hands-on approach with their fans—since instagram alone already seems like a struggle for some; they can also repost content from instagram which would also give them more individual exposure since the two social media platforms tend to have completely different audiences; it would also be nice for collaborators/brands/media to be able to tag them directly instead of @ the group account; finally, there’s a reason why each member has stuck to uploading all personal content on their respective instagrams since Dec 2021, so expect the group Twitter to become even more desolate than it already is if this does happen)

Individual TikTok accounts (Instagram, YouTube and Twitter....then why not TikTok too? It would make more sense when it comes to promoting their solo music and once again connecting with their respective audiences/fanbases; it only makes sense for solo artists to promote their solo work on solo accounts especially when their music and personalities are all so different; that’s 7 different audiences that should be catered to instead of trying to fit everyone into one big purple-colored box. All 7 members together represent BTS, but no single member is a representation of BTS; there’s a reason why JITB is completely different from anything BTS has released as group, and it’s the same reason why Indigo is so different from JITB; someone who likes JITB may not care for 90% of BTS’s discography and the same would apply to other members’ solo albums that have yet to be released; this is the obvious truth, but armys will continue to delude themselves as if the term bias doesn’t exist.)

Individual Facebook pages (and lastly, Facebook because all artists need a Facebook page to be able to link their music to their personal Instagram accounts; the BTS official Instagram account has it but when you scroll through you only see JK and RM’s music, which to me isn’t fair to other members who have music under their official Spotify profiles; the members are artists first, right? not influencers, therefore, artistry should be respected in a similar manner)

Opening their comment section on Instagram (limited comments are boring, but i don’t blame them; I’d sure they’re well aware that a select group of their “fans” are unhinged; just look at the way those same “fans” have attacked people who they’ve deemed to be “wrongly” associated with them or people they’ve “accidentally” followed; honestly I’m also worried about the occasional wave of hate/d.threats some members would receive in their comment sections from deranged akgaes; I will never understand not liking someone, yet going out of your way to invade their public accounts or content posted related to them just to spew hateful nonsense or send d.threats about how much you don’t like them; take a breather because it’s never ever that deep. And if you ever feel the need to take it that far towards anyone (celebrity figure or not), then may your pathetic existence quickly reach its expiration date; people also seem to have a lot more balls on instagram, so it’s a good thing Instagram’s safety features are a lot better than Twitter’s—i.e., the report and block buttons def work)

Following more people on Instagram (lol honestly following 0 people isn’t anything new from the celebrity pov and we can all thank Bey for establishing that, but following only your 7 group members is just...meh; are they gonna live as 7 for the rest of their lives? No, but they probably have to keep it this way otherwise there’s a possibility that every single non-bts related account on their following list would be harassed and stalked to oblivion by deranged fans; not to mention as it is, BH/Hybe staff already do such a great job at leaking private info related to BTS, you would think their proximity to such high-profile celebrities would result in ironclad NDAs but I guess not...sigh when will we be free)

Individual brand deals/endorsements (this one is already under way and was really really obvious from the start because we all know “7 or nothing”—not necessarily their bond but the way they’ve been marketed to fans—has always been nothing more than a sales gimmick; seriously not every member will have the skillset that a specific brand is looking for, so let’s let the ones who shine, shine; instead of trying to sell the lackluster ones as a package deal; “buy one get one free” should never apply to people; for the members yet to be announced there’s been rumors of various brands so let’s just wait and see...hopefully no controversial brands are chosen.

Individual fashion global ambassadorships (similar to the above, except I think only the members interested in fashion should get involved in this, but then again, this is the k-entertainment industry we’re talking about, and as of late ambassadorships have become part of the whole “album promo” package deal; either way I’m sure the money is good for BTS, and at the end of the day it’s a win-win; interest or not, the artist gets paid and the brand gets “exposure”) **side note: ambassadorships are cool, but the real deal would be with whichever brand pursues a true partnership with the artist by creating a collaborative fashion line or collection that expresses their artistic vision through fashion and/or even a performance that speaks to the brand’s image. pretty red carpet and campaign pictures are nice, but what the world needs is a tangible piece that can be held or tangible memory that can be seen. I think that’s what truly separates the artist-turned-fashion icon/creative director/business mogul from the rest.

More fashion week appearances (so far we’ve gotten Louis Vuitton, Dior, Hermès. I’m glad j-hope didn’t/hasn’t yet? signed with LV otherwise we never would’ve gotten 3 completely different, yet ultimately iconic looks from him in the span of just 3 days; Jimin for Dior; Suga for Valentino; other members may also attend shows for the brands they will be announced as Global/House Ambassadors) **another side note: Hobi wore clothes from LV’s unreleased collection which is rare feat in itself and he was also invited behind the scenes, shown the collection prior to the show, and he entered and exited the venue via a private entrance that was reserved for VIPs. I also saw a photo of Hobi with the Arnaults. Do you know how difficult it is to meet them? You can’t just meet them lol, they’d first have to want to meet you. And Hoseok did that with not 1, but 3 (maybe 4 because 2 of the brothers attended the Dior show) members of the family, including the LVMH CEO himself. It’s not even enough to be a high-profile celebrity; You usually have to have a long-standing working relationship with them or with one of their brands which means their connection with Hoseok must run pretty deep, and they have plenty of trust in him as a global representative. The same thing applies to Hermès. They do no care how rich or famous you are. Before you’re even able to purchase one of their bags directly, you’d have to be a longtime/VIP shopper. Even then getting a bag isn’t guaranteed. You’ll forever be on a waitlist, it could even take years, until you’re invited to purchase one. You also can’t pick and choose which model or color of bag you want lol. Everyone knows about the Birkin, but most are lucky to even be offered a Kelly for purchase. And not only did Hoseok meet with their executives, they also gifted him a Haut à courroies 50 bag (the one in his airport photos upon arrival from Paris) which is one of their largest bags, and is more difficult to secure than a regular Birkin. In short, he got the full VVIP treatment from both rival brands. Who else can relate? With that said, more than an ambassadorship, there could be a j-hope fashion line or a collection of some sort in the works; or perhaps he was doing field research to decide which brand will be in charge of designing his world tour outfits....who knows, only time will tell; as for fashion week there’s still New York, London, Milan, more in Paris, and even Seoul; appearances and shows will depend on the brand)

More solo magazine covers (this also isn’t anything new but even Hybe’s nugu groups with zero impact and lots of payola are already getting solo covers in top magazines, attending fashion week, and having brand ambassadorships under their belts, so it’s ridiculous it took BigHit/Hybe almost a decade to allow bts members the same opportunity)

Vogue, GQ, Hot Ones? video interviews (as much as I love a good magazine interview, there’s nothing better than being able to observe body language; I was surprised when we got GQ’s ‘10 things Jin’, but it only proves that more spontaneous less unscripted interviews where the gp can easily tune in are no longer beyond the realm of possibilities; which means I’m expecting Vogue to come through with any of the following: Life in Looks, 24 Hours with, 73 Questions, Get Ready with, Beauty Routine, etc; more 10 things with GQ; and Hot Ones would be great)

More solo interviews (see tv appearances)

More solo TV appearances w/Korean media (I know that new Mnet program is currently in the works; and I’m kind of hoping for more popular variety shows and broadcasts; anything that would promote their music domestically vs. the fan-targeted content posted on BangtanTV)

More solo TV appearances w/Western media (it’s no secret that Korean media can be restrictive when it comes to artistic expression, so similar appearances at tv programs like late night shows for an interview and performance would be great; just like they’ve done for many years as a group, so it’s ridiculous how they’re not getting a similar promotional rollout for their solo careers)

More solo red carpet appearances (this one technically isn’t a stand alone event, but you can include any activities here that aren’t necessarily centered around them or any of the other ones I’ve listed; like them getting invited to a movie premiere of a friend of a friend’s)

More solo performances (probably minor ones because I really don’t think any of them will put on a performance as major or as lengthy as the scale of Hobipalooza’s headliner setlist and preparation; unless of course its j-hope himself; as for festival performances, there’s of course Lollapalooza, but we also have Coachella, Rolling Loud, Something in the Water, Wireless Festival, Splash Festival, Made in America, The Governors Ball; most of these festivals have a primarily hip-hop/rap-centric audience, so don’t expect vocal line to make any appearances. I can’t speak for Yoongi or Namjoon, but I doubt Hoseok will be interested in doing anything less than a headlining stage. Otherwise expect performances at the usual Western music award shows, year-end Asian music award shows, and South Korea’s music bank/inkigayo)

Solo world tour announcement (we can dream right?)

More solo music collaborations (there’s been many rumors on this one so let’s way and see; hopefully collabs involving actual good music and more collabs with artists that don’t cater to the demographic of bubblegum pop music lovers; seriously enough is enough with the abysmal lyrics and the lack of good production on some of these collabs)

More solo albums (duh! and emphasis on the solo part; as much as I love a good feature or collab, there’s no good reason for those featured artists to be eating you up on your own song, much less album; features should add to the album, not make the album itself—especially when you’re a musician who aims to establish an individual identity and move away from the idea that you’re nothing without bts/without other people propping you up; next: jimin -> suga -> jungkook -> v ; in that order of album release is my guess)

More solo singles/EPs (the 94s; Namjoon has been hinting a lot at releasing new music, so likely an EP; I think Hoseok will also release another album before he enlists, if not an EP; I think they both have more options than other members since they’ve already officially debuted as soloists)

Subunit singles/EPs (once all of vocal line have released their solo albums, i can see BH trying to push for subunits; don’t expect full on albums with only 2 or 3 members on it, but I can definitely see a single or two or more happening; again likely with vocal line)

More OSTs (original soundtracks; again with vocal line)

More individual enlistments (they all technically have until early/mid 2024 to enlist if the tentative 2025 BTS reunion is supposed to happen, but once you taste the high life of individual freedom can you ever really go back to the mundane days of group work? Yoongi has until the end of 2023, Hoseok and Namjoon both have until the end of 2024, Jimin and Taehyung 2025, Jungkook 2027; I’m curious to see—to the absolute horror of armys—if anyone, especially maknae line, will put off their enlistment past 2024....I think Hybe was foolish to announce a “comeback” date; only doing so to calm investors and give themselves an additional 2 years to “ease their dependency on BTS” by bridging the profit gap between them and all their other groups; well if all else fails, i guess they’ll have the company stans to rely on)

or Paired enlistments (again? I really doubt a 2025 reunion will happen simply because a lot of things aren’t adding up at the moment, but if they enlist in pairs it may be a sure sign otherwise. It still makes me laugh how this time last year armys were so sure they’d be getting a bts world tour announcement only for it to be a hiatus + enlistment announcement instead. The signs of exhaustion from the members and lack of effort with the group in all aspects were way too obvious. I will never understand why fans keep deluding themselves. Seriously what group at the peak of success releases an anthology as an album? With only 3 new songs? And the purple warriors ate it right up. They could’ve at least put the demos on streaming platforms. Don’t even get me started on the 3 english songs that took over a year of “convincing” before the members agreed. Lmao my point is bts have never 100% been open about their plans, yet we all know they plan and settle things months in advance. Which means enlistment had likely already been decided on prior to the second leg of the ptd concerts. And yet, they showed no signs of it and acted like everything was swell. Even RM said the 2025 date was tentative; there’s also the Expo 2035 to consider, but after all those infrastructure problems, I’m pretty sure Busan won’t win the bid. People should accept that if the members want to keep doing their thing solo after 2025, then that’s okay. If they come back as a group, then that’s okay too. These days most of them seem happier and lighter being able to do their own thing without being tied down to the rigorous schedules that come with being “7”. So, why pressure them to do anything more as a group just to fulfill the selfish desires and needs of fans?)

Dating news ??? (this isn’t a big deal either and it’s none of our business but all it really takes is one member to open the floodgates of deranged hyperventilated tears; although it’d probably be in their best interests to continue to keep their personal lives private for that very obvious reason)

Grammys attendance (BTS has several nominations, but I doubt all 6 members will attend; j-hope’s Equal Sign was submitted for “Best Song for Social Change”; there’s been hints of a Pharrell collab involving RM; I doubt the Recording Academy will want to miss out on that BTS viewership clout so I expect at least one or two members to attend and maybe we’ll even get a performance from them)

Met Gala attendance !!!!!! (first comes FW....then comes....seriously, j-hope is just wow and this has to be said. I’ve seen the photos/videos from PFW and modeling/posing aside, not only does his entire aura change, but even his etiquette and mannerisms change depending on where he’s at and what he has on. It’s like the outfit and environment molds itself to him. It’s almost as if cameras were created for the sole purpose of capturing his presence. You know how Koreans have this thing of calling someone “Human [insert brand name here]” j-hope is like that but with every brand. As a longtime lover of fashion, it’s rare to see someone be able to digest every style so well. I can actually count on one hand the number of celebrities who are able to pull it off. He fits perfectly in everywhere he goes, and it’s no wonder why every show gave him the best seat in the house next to all their executives and other notable figures in the fashion industry. It’s amazing, not only do brands love him but so did all the photographers/journalists. He gives you something to write about just by simply existing. So it wouldn’t be a stretch to expect the star of this year’s Paris Fashion Week to finally make his Met Gala debut this May, right? Imagine j-hope attends, goes all out and does one of those behind the scenes ‘get ready with me’ videos with Vogue. Do you see the vision? He’s the only member who has a genuine passion for fashion, does his research, looks good in everything he wears, and isn’t just content with wearing whatever a stylist hands him. He’s also the only member who I’ve seen several designers go out of their way to praise. This year’s Met theme is super flexible too and I’m sure there’s lots of brands that would absolutely love to see j-hope ‘The MVP of Fashion Week’ dressed in their designs)

Hope On The Street Comeback (putting this out there just because there’s rumors that people saw him filming something dance related in Paris; what could it be? maybe for his YouTube channel? a MV? maybe LV ad campaigns or commercials of him dancing? one of the models danced at their recent show so i’m sure they’re open to incorporating more of that type of creative expression in their marketing; either way, if the rumors are true, then naturally we’ll find out soon enough because it’s j-hope)

Drama/Movie roles (lead, second lead, or guest appearances; I don’t think any of them will go this route until they’ve at least released a solo album because if they’re actually serious about their solo music careers, it’s much easier to take an established artist-turned-actor seriously, than it is to take an amateur actor-turned-artist seriously—especially in these fragile times of solo uncertainty for many)

Contract renewal announcement (their contracts expire in 2024?, but I don’t think all of them will renew with BigHit/Hybe; I doubt there’ll be any news on this until later this year at the earliest...although there may be leaks and speculation here and there; since solo activities are in full force—besides re-releasing BTS’s entire catalog as vinyls and repackaged special editions—I’m curious to know what other ways hybe plans to milk them during their hiatus in order to keep pumping that BTS money into their new groups and push a BTS successor. Gotta keep those investors happy, right? Hybe has always had a lot of internal issues with their staff and the way things are handled. Hybe has also spent the last two years promoting their plans to “reduce dependency on BTS”, and have been investing in any and every venture, to the point that their slogan “we believe in money” should be changed to “we believe in profit”. If you notice any positive deviations in the company’s usual behavior regarding how the members are being managed, then they’re likely trying to butter them up behind the scenes to get them to renew. I’m also curious about the current status of their contracts, and if any new conditions were added regarding their solo work; I feel like some may have already renewed but, again, I could be wrong; half the members have already sold a portion of their 1.2% in collective hybe shares; all it really takes is for one member to leave the company and I’m pretty sure at least half would follow suit; there’s power in solidarity)

That’s all that comes to mind for now. As for your second question (which member has been the most impressive in chapter 2) if it wasn’t already obvious, the answer is: j-hope. It’s only been 6 months, and between his solo debut, critically-acclaimed album, multiple iconic performances, being the star of Paris Fashion Week, documentary on the way. Who else is doing it like him? He’s been booked and busy since the group’s hiatus was announced, accomplishing all that in just 6 months. He set the bar high for himself and continues to raise it. 2022 was the year of HOPE and there’s no signs of him slowing down in 2023. He deserves all the recognition he’s getting because not only is he the most impressive, he’s also produced the most impressive results overall. Let’s put bias aside and face the facts because anyone who says otherwise is a l-i-a-r.

I’m sure the haters are gonna say “he only accomplished all those things because he was the first one to release his album”. Well, any of the other 6 could’ve released theirs first, yet here we are 6 months later where some of them still have nothing close to a finished album and are busy idling their time away. Any reason they give for not being in the studio working is an excuse. Not to mention j-hope was working on his solo debut and preparing solo performances while BTS was still active as a group, meanwhile others were what? Taking vacations? Partying? Playing video games? Not that there’s anything wrong with doing any of that. If you want to rest, then by all means rest, but don’t expect to be on the same level or have the same results as someone who consistently works hard like j-hope. Even with the group being inactive it was only j-hope showing up to every award show in the name of BTS (Jin enlisted, but what were the other 5 busy doing)? Failing to prepare is preparing to fail.

“Effort plays an important role in trying to stay where I am now. I will always try my best because efforts will never betray me.” — j-hope, 2018; “Efforts never betray you....All my efforts have never betrayed me....Looking back, the efforts I made didn’t betray me, in the end.” — j-hope, 2023

And “j-hope always has a plan”, so it’s only natural for him to never miss out on a golden opportunity to show the world who he is and what he’s capable of doing. It’s one thing to be talented, it’s another thing to have excellent work ethic, strong social skills, the confidence and charisma to pull off anything. Not to mention he’s always super genuine, humble and polite with everyone he meets—and we can’t forget that heart-shaped smile. These attributes go a long way and are invaluable especially when you work in industries as cutthroat as music or fashion where first impressions are always a make or break. That sort of discipline and awareness isn’t built overnight. I’ve seen some videos of j-hope’s PFW interactions (with executives, photographers, and just recently, his bodyguards) and it always makes me go: “wow I want to meet him, I want to talk to him, he seems like a really nice guy, he’s a natural model, he’s super good-looking, I can’t help but smile too”. So, imagine how all those people on the receiving end of his affections feel? Exactly. Hence why j-hope will continue to be invited into those exclusive spaces. His body language is always warm and inviting, he’s good at connecting with people from all walks of life. Even something as simple as a smile or wave is enough to make someone’s day and j-hope gets that. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that he’s the main reason BTS even lasted this long as a group. Other members don’t call him “갓이홉” (god j-hope) for nothing. **final side note: even the way j-hope reposted all those photos from local photographers on his IG story is so ¡wow! Lots of celebrities wouldn’t even bother. Not only is he giving them more exposure in such a competitive industry, he’s also letting them know how much he appreciates their work. And some of these photographers often run around FW for free in order to build up their portfolios. Now, you never know who could’ve watched his story, saw those photos he reposted, and offered them a job. It’s little things like that, that go a long way, because guess what? The next time he comes back to Paris the same photographers will be happy and ready to capture him on their cameras. In fact, notice how some of them posted even more photos of him after that repost? Exactly. j-hope should really teach a masterclass on networking and building connections; the first thing on the agenda? Making the best first impressions. The second thing? The subtle art of personal branding. Don’t try to give Bighit/Hybe any credit either because as we’ve seen from some lackluster solo activities and the incredibly botched debut solo album rollouts (especially j-hope’s and especially when compared to the debut of other groups under the same company), thus far, BH/H does not give enough fvcks about BTS as soloists to invest money into them individually. the same way they’re currently doing for their other groups; they might care for some members more than others so a sponsored opportunity or two may come in the realm of that possibility, but they definitely value “OT7” above all because that’s where they believe the money lies. Ultimately, how each member’s solo career will turn out relies heavily on their ambition, respective goals, personal initiative, the drive to want more and to be more in their own right. They may be at the top as a group, but as soloists they’re just getting started.

I wrote this post about a year ago, and it seems that Hoseok has finally given us an answer. He’s clearly in it for the long haul and plans to have a very long and very flourishing career in both music and fashion; chess, not checkers~

[monimolimnion]

I posted 11,344 times in 2022

That's 4,097 more posts than 2021!

35 posts created (0%)

11,309 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jollyfanasties

@itsrapsodia

@charmps-you-grickly

@freakinflipflop

@4ragon

I tagged 4,014 of my posts in 2022

#ofmd - 1,064 posts

#wwdits - 917 posts

#queue - 109 posts

#goncharov - 92 posts

#unreality - 74 posts

#seascape tag - 68 posts

#help - 48 posts

#lauren - 46 posts

#drawtectives - 35 posts

#oh my god - 28 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#the day after i saw this post for the first time i hung out with my friends and we had the most cursed conversations in ubers both there and

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Kindred [Chapter 12 + Epilogue]

name: Kindred fandom: Ace Attorney | Gyakuten Saiban pairing: Mitsurugi Reiji | Miles Edgeworth/Naruhodou Ryuuichi | Phoenix Wright wordcount/chapters: 13/13, 96k additional tags: miles adopting pess: the fic!, it'll take a while but we'll get to narumitsu eventually i promise, set during disbarment but no AJ spoilers bc i haven't played it yet, Plot Lite(TM), very mild disbarment-typical angst, Slow(ish) Burn, References to / characters from AAI 1&2 but no major spoilers, COMPLETE!

summary:

Her ears prick up at the sound of his voice, but she doesn’t move. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm afraid. I suspect that I am not very good at this." Miles would feel silly to an extreme for speaking to her like this, except for the way that Pess thaws, ever so slightly - her tail twitches, her head dips a little from its stiff posture, and she huffs out a long breath, heavier than her shallow meter from before. "I'm aware you don't understand me, but I am quite certain that I understand you, Pess, at least a little. And I want you to know you are safe with me in this house, and that this will be your home so long as you are happy here.”

Against his better judgement, Miles Edgeworth adopts a dog.

Read it on AO3!

74 notes - Posted August 8, 2022

#4

not to bang on about it, but i think the Goncharov Phenomenon and the new Defunctland video being released at the same time is kind of. apt?

in the documentary Kevin spends an hour and a half in agony about his existence as a youtuber/artist/documentarian, agony i recognise and deeply resonate with, and comes to the conclusion that work doesnt have to be "great" to be worth it. that seriousness and importance is not something worth trading off joy for. that it's not actually a bad thing necessarily that sketches and memes take off and stuff you worked hard on doesn't, even if it feels bad in the moment

his point being that creativity is worth it even in isolation, that even the "real" virtuosos have no regrets about producing work that is less important, and that it's about whoever you touch with the work, no matter how shallow or simple the work may seem, and no matter how shallow or simple the impact might be on whoever you touched.

you still touched them, didn't you?

i think it's obvious why this resonates with me quite so much - in a fandom context, as well as where that intersects with my work in games, my ideas for novels that might not get anywhere, and what i "should" be doing to be considered a proper writer

and that's why goncharov is such a fantastic fucking example.

the entire POINT of goncharov is that it doesn't mean anything. and because of that, it can mean everything at once. the outpouring of creativity in unison from seemingly all corners of tumblr is no less beautiful because it is couched in memery and an inside joke. the analysis speaks just as much about the context of our zeitgeist as it does the film that doesn't exist. the art, the writing, the music. everyone taking whatever craft they've built for themselves and using it to reach out to each other for no reason other than it's fun.

it is worthy of doing, in and of itself.

my god. humans just need an excuse to create beauty sometimes because we'll do it about fucking anything. and i think that's wonderful

90 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

#3

ok. hear me out. i have thoughts about nandor’s list of ideal wife traits.

ive seen posts that are like 'it's a list of traits guillermo has!' reading it as a nandermo hint, as well as posts that say 'guillermo has the exact opposite of those traits to show that nandor is in denial' and i really don’t think it’s a direct 1:1 of either of those at all

it's pretty clear to me that the list is first of all much more literal than that - the show isn't always trying to indicate something aside from literally what it's talking about (the traits of the wives he re-deaded during the montage) and while i love reading into things as much as the next guy i think this list really was just written to serve the joke more than anything

BUT. but. it's also something that is much more indicative of nandor's inner workings than it is a straight up list of things he likes about guillermo but won’t admit to because, well, let's list the traits -humble, an excellent listener, not petty or slovenly or vain or manipulative, never asked him to shave off his beard, not smarter than him, warm and wanted to be with him (🥺), kind, a good haggler, merciful, horny, and has a sense of spontaneity and fun

to me this reads almost as if it's a classic comphet 'oh i just have high standards' kind of bent thinking. half of the traits seem to actively contradict another item in the list! this is the exact kind of thought pattern that happens when you are so divorced from your actual Self that you don't actually even know what you want - if i just have a reason that every relationship isn't perfect, an excuse for it to never be right, then i don't have to face what is genuinely happening inside me. if i have a formula, then i am safe. 

i would argue that the list is actually three separate things: 1: things nandor genuinely does want in a relationship (which do tend to line up with guillermo's own traits, or the ones he has made most visible during his servitude) 2: things that would be good for nandor’s personal development and therefore he does not want to be challenged on them (especially by a near-stranger as his wives have become to him - the fight scene is the big example here, since his reaction to guillermo in the same context was so different, but also i’m including things like not being smarter than him, etc. these are largely Also traits guillermo has, and are the ones pointed out by the posts arguing that the whole list is about guillermo in negative).  3: the other things are just quibbles because he is a petty little bitch but we been knew that already

to me his total misread of marwa's personality at the end of the episode is so starkly obvious for those exact reasons - he doesn't know what he wants at all, and it's not as simple as his subconscious having all the answers in a direct negative for us to superimpose guillermo on, either. because divorcing yourself from your emotions and anything remotely difficult to process for 400 years is bound to have some sort of impact.

also i am deeply certain that nandor was largely the same (read: an asshole) even while he was still human, too, but that’s a topic for another time

118 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

#2

287 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

thinking about how nandor calling all his partners wives is a clever way to have him very explicitly handwave heteronormativity and establishes him as someone who doesn't even register the modern sexuality zeitgeist BUT still places him as the sole husband: still centers him as the man of the house, the one waited on hand and foot, the one in charge, and the one ultimately aloof from a relationship that is supposed to be a partnership (there being many wives notwithstanding).

and how if, in the end, guillermo refuses to be nandor's wife and insists on being his husband that it sings in total synergy with the entire storyline thus far - it would be guillermo learning to own himself, his sexuality, his self worth, and refusing to be a doormat, and nandor accepting that change is part of life even when you are undying, and that he cannot always be dominant in order to avoid being vulnerable, and in fact needs a partner that will challenge him

in this essay i won't

1,634 notes - Posted July 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[astridthevalkyrie]

triple threat | chapter one

The sudden sound of laughter fills the air. You, Xavier, and Zayne all look at Rafayel in bewilderment as he throws his head back against the bark of the tree and lets out a cackle that sounds almost hysterical. Even though his shoulders are shaking, he clearly doesn’t actually find this funny, whatever this is.  The tenseness in Xavier and Zayne’s shoulders don’t provide any additional humor to the moment either. "I see,” he laughs bitterly, pink-blue eyes burning with an unspoken iciness. “I waited eight hundred years, and you picked up two more immortal lovers. Isn’t that something?”

A continuation fic taking place after chapter 8.

a/n: at the time i’m starting this, only chapters 1 through 8 of the main story have been released. we have two myths each for xavier, zayne and rafayel. sylus has been teased but no actual information about him has been released. he will be in this story, but not as an endgame love interest. i’ll be taking liberties and making up a few things of my own that will almost certainly not align with the main story and any future myths that the game releases. some things will also just straight up contradict canon: i.e. in the main story mc does not know that rafayel is lemurian yet, she finds this out in his ebb and flow memory. that is not how she’ll find out in this fic. if i can make future lore fit into this story, i will. this is NOT how i think the game will go once it updates, just a story i came up with and not one i expect to be canon at all. now that i’ve avoided any future potential headache explanations, on with the story! i hope you enjoy.

Your mouth is dry when you come to.

That shouldn’t be the first thing you notice. Knocked out or not, your instincts should be finely tuned to everything, including the dark drapes in the small room and the single window behind them, shining the light from the brightest waning moon you’ve ever bared witness to. And yet, the sinister glow does not give you the ability to observe further. That little skill now completely directs itself to the sudden burning sensation you feel, beginning in your legs and spreading its way up your body.

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes. Not just from how a thousand needles seem to be slowly pressing into you at once. That, you understand. That is sensation returning to you, the last of the poison making its way out as painfully as possible. You don’t mind that, because when it’s over you’ll be able to move again—or at least you would be able to, were your hands not bound behind your back and you were not propped up against the corner of a dusty wall.

No, the tears are for your failure. 

To be bested so easily, and by some low level crooks at that, is not only an insult to every instructor whose eyes conveyed such sincere approval at your success, but it is an insult to every single person whose life you disturbed for just the chance to finally have some answers.

You picture Tara, bags under her eyes from the all-nighters she’s been pulling to meticulously look through all available databases for any mention of Lumiere. You picture Zayne, cheeks red from the cold, hurting himself by fighting Wanderers and guiding you to meet a doctor up in Snowcrest simply so that you could gather information. You picture Xavier, taking himself away from whichever mission he was clearly deep in the middle of just to ensure you’d have the resources needed to survive in the N109 Zone. And you picture Rafayel—

A low breath escapes you. 

Rafayel. He couldn’t have gotten far. Perhaps he saw you being taken. Perhaps he found some way to follow you. 

Perhaps…

Something wasn’t right.

What business would someone like Rafayel have in the Nest? Of course, you hadn’t bought the story about how Onychinus was hunting him because he refused a commission of all things, but, well, it hadn’t been like you were telling him everything either. He was allowed to keep his secrets despite your deep curiosity. But even in your wildest imaginations, the most you could have guessed was that he’d run his mouth to the wrong person, or maybe his money just made him an easy target. And if he was a target, then why would he stroll into the Nest without so much as a mask over his face? How could he have strolled in without someone immediately trying to attack him? He has a lot of money, he’s had dealings in the Nest before, but…

Something wasn’t right. 

Rafayel hadn’t been acting like himself either. Over the last few months, you’ve become accustomed to him, through several card games and long talks and biweekly walks through fields of flowers and craft stores or along the shore. You’ve gotten to know a man who, though he plays up the pain in the ass act as often as he can, is actually quite kind to you, and clearly keeps you around as more of a friend than a bodyguard, especially considering that he can defend himself well enough without you—hell, he’s saved your ass plenty of times. And last night, or a few hours ago, or whenever it was that you were last conscious and interacting with him, he’d not been that kind, playful man. He’d been someone smooth and suave and shady, and you’d been so focused on your own goals that you hadn’t even noticed.

You don’t have much of a chance to ponder on it before the single door to the room is opened.

A brute of a man walks in, hulking like a mountain even you haven’t climbed yet. Wordlessly, he walks over to you and pulls you to your feet roughly—luckily, the ability to move has mostly returned to you now, and you only feel a slight cramp in your thighs as he drags you up.

“Walk,” he orders.

It’s foolish, you know, but you hold your head up defiantly regardless. “Or what?”

You hear the blow before you feel it. It echoes across the room with a dull crack, and for a second you aren’t sure whether the sound is from his metal-plated backhand against your face or the way your neck snaps to the side at the hit. 

A trickle of blood drips from your lower lip.

“Walk,” he says again, in the same tone, only louder.

This time, you do. Your cheek and mouth sting sharply, and you’re shaking a little in fear, in anger, in emotions you can’t quite describe. Your hunter’s watch is long gone, along with the immunity vial Xavier gave you. You can’t tell if the tracker that he attached is still on your ear, but you feel the poisoned needle still tucked neatly into your sleeve where they apparently hadn’t thought to look. That’s good. That’s an advantage.

It’s better to leave the room, no matter what the circumstances. So you let the burly man bully you down a dark corridor, using the limited movement you have to look around. The walls are bare. Rooms are either locked or empty and filled with dust.

This must be the N109 Zone. Onychinus has taken the bait. That would give you relief if your predicament wasn’t so dire. The plan had been to act like you were a wealthy mafia socialite who had an aether core in your possession (which is technically half true), and then gather intel once the organization tried to bargain with you.

They weren’t supposed to know the aether core was inside you. They weren’t supposed to knock you out. 

You’re no longer in control of the situation, and you’ve learned since becoming a hunter that a lack of control is an incredibly dangerous thing.

At the end of the hall, you finally reach a much grander door than the rest. Curving at the top, it’s cluttered with symbols that may just be a language that you don’t speak. No legible words or signs or any kind of clue. Nothing at all.

The man stops, before roughly shoving you by your shoulder. You almost stumble, but you catch yourself at the last second, trained enough on your feet not to fall. With a confused look, you turn back to look at the man, who merely steps in front of you and reaches for the handle.

Someone’s on the other side of this door.

You take a shaky breath. If they wanted to kill you, you wouldn’t be standing here. 

With that somewhat comforting thought, you step forward as the guard swings the door wide open.

The first thing you notice is the intricately large table. Filled to the brim with all types of food that make your stomach grumble on sight—who knows how long it’s been since you’ve eaten. Roast beef, gravy, mashed potatoes, sliced fruits, pudding, and even some things you don’t recognize but that look delectable nonetheless. Your stomach growls at just the view.

Then your gaze follows the table down to the end, where two men are sitting. The one at the end, cozy in the grand seat of the table, has his eyes concealed by a white mask. 

For a second, you wonder if you are staring at Caleb and your grandmother’s murderer. Your heart beats so loud you’re sure he can hear it, and it is that paralyzing thought alone that gives you a delay in looking at the second man.

Perhaps if you hadn’t delayed, you’d have been able to stop the stuttered gasp that escapes you. 

This isn’t real.

Your heart pounds loudly in your chest. It feels like bile is rising in your throat. 

This can’t be real.

“You look scared,” Rafayel says, leaning back in his chair. “Relax, Miss Bodyguard.”

You’re frozen, stuck to the spot and unable to move, hands shaking as you look at him. The room is suddenly cold, sending shivers up your arms and down your back. 

The man in the mask chuckles. “He’s right. Relax. We’re planning on giving you what you want.”

You try to will your voice to respond, to say something, to say anything, but it’s blank. The white mask receives none of your attention; all of it is occupied by eyes that even in this lighting shine with their pink and blue hues. Those eyes have looked at you a hundred times in the last few months, with fondness, with annoyance, and sometimes, you thought, with longing. They crinkled when he laughed. They softened when he was painting. 

Those pink-blue eyes have never been so cold, because Rafayel has never looked at you so coldly.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask him what he’s doing here, until you catch yourself at the last second.

You can’t afford to be foolish, not at a time like this. If Rafayel is here, then there’s a high possibility that you were right. He did see you get taken, and he took whatever connections he had to follow you to…wherever you are. This could very well be a rescue mission, and any light pride of yours being mutilated by someone who isn’t even a hunter having to save you is squashed by the sheer relief that you aren’t alone.

The look in his eyes is still jarring, but he’s always been a better actor than you—a side effect of being an artiste, he says, and a jack of all trades—so you refuse to mess something up by acting rashly.

His head tilts, like he’s observing you. “Keep her hands bound,” he murmurs, addressing the other man smoothly, “she’s more trouble than your guards can handle if you set her free.”

The masked man nods slowly, and you force your gaze back to him. If this is Onychinus, if they’ve brought you here for the reason you think they have, then this must be—

“Sylus,” you whisper, but the room is so silent that your voice carries.

“Sylus?” the man snorts, shaking his head. “I’m afraid I’m not as high profile as him, no. Would you like another try?”

You’re not going to be stupid, but you’re also not going to be toyed with. Whatever Rafayel’s plan is, you doubt your humiliation is a key factor in it. You jut your chin out and hold back the curses you want to spit. They can torture you, but you’re no fool. If they wanted you dead, you’d be dead. You wouldn’t be at this sham of a dinner with your hands tied behind your back. The lightheadedness you feel is being bullied back by the sheer shock of seeing your favorite artist here with you.

“Shame.” The masked man leans back in his chair. “I know you’ve lost your memory, but I thought, maybe out of sentiment, that you’d at least somewhat recognize me. After all, there was once a time you called me Father.”

Silence.

And then you speak again, more unnerved by the sheer insanity of his words. “My parents are dead.”

He snorts. “It’s exceptional, what a mind can trick itself into believing if it so desires. Tell me, little one”—you bristle at the nickname—“what did your parents look like?”

What a cruel thing to ask. Your heart isn’t made of glass, and while you had shed tears earlier over your failure, you’re anything but sensitive. You think about your parents sometimes, but the topic has never brought you to tears before. You barely talked about it with Gran, knowing that it would likely pain her a great deal more than it would you. And you’re not cold or unfeeling, you were just young when they passed. 

Which is also why you no longer have the clearest memories of them either. 

All photo albums and other memoranda had been destroyed alongside your house, Gran had said. It was the same with Caleb’s family. And neither of you wanted for anything. Sure, she didn’t always have the funds to dress you up as the prettiest of the group. But you two had an education, a home, a life. You never commemorated or mourned your parents, because you never needed to.

“You don’t remember,” he simpers. You wonder if you can break free of the ropes and smack the smug expression off his face.

“What am I doing here?” you respond with narrowed eyes, uninterested in having this strange man try to poke holes into your brain. 

“You’re the one who auctioned off your heart. We’re only interested in collecting.”

Ignoring the strike of fear that shoots up your stomach, you spit, “If you were going to operate on me, it was better to do it while I was unconscious.”

“Incorrect, my dear. It’s actually much easier and much cheaper to operate on you while you’re conscious. It won’t be much of an operation at all, actually more of a…” His gaze makes its way to Rafayel, who doesn’t react aside from a brief twitch of his fingers. “Siege.”

The artist says nothing, but keeps his eyes trained on you.

“You see, Lemurian hands are useful when it comes to extracting hearts. Isn’t that right?”

Lemurian? Lemuria was extinct. He didn’t have Lemurian hands, no one did. Your teeth grit; the man is sounding more deluded by the second, which doesn’t bode well for you. If he had a corpse in here with hands he was planning to use…the thought makes you sick, not just the thought of your heart getting extracted, but that he would keep an ancient body around, a body that was once living and breathing, for something so twisted.

He said he wasn’t Sylus. Who was he, then? Another higher-up at Onychinus? There was once a time you called me Father. He must be a madman. A rich madman, if he was able to afford to buy you at the Nest.

Rafayel takes his time standing up. His slender fingers push back against the table and nudge the chair back in its place. His plum-colored hair, which one always described as swooshy, parts just so, creating a pathway for you to meet his eyes once more. 

“Not all Lemurian hands,” he mutters, pushing his sleeves up. “Just mine.”

“What?” you ask weakly, unable to understand what he’s saying.

“You didn’t know?” Even with the mask, you can discern the faint look of amusement on the man’s face. “Rafayel, you haven’t told her your biggest secret?”

Biggest secret…?

And then, in a second, it all makes sense.

The way he always drew the water, like it was a living, breathing being that he was well acquainted with. The way he continuously referred to the people around him as humans like he simply wasn’t one. Raymond. The painting. His aunt, who looked so young despite being several decades older than him. The painting. The knowledge he had about the lost underwater city. His disdain for Lemurian myths and the constant nitpicking about accuracy. Raymond. The painting. The painting. The painting.

Rafayel killed Raymond. Rafayel killed Raymond.

With a staggering gasp, you step back, away from the man you don’t know. He’d seemed surprised…but Rafayel is a good actor. Rafayel is Lemurian. Rafayel is a murderer.

“Wait—wait,” you let out in a panicked breath, “what do you mean extracting hearts? Why would you—why would he—”

“An aether core of such power, the one that resides inside your heart—it’s essentially a miracle. Miracles are in heavy demand, little one. And it would be a lengthy process to tie you down onto a table and carve you open. Instead, the poison you’ve been injected with leaves you susceptible for about the next forty-eight hours. Rafayel can simply reach in…” He holds his hand out to demonstrate, then clenches his fist, and even though there’s an entire table separating you, you feel your heart being squeezed. “And take what’s needed.”

Trembling, your gaze meet Rafayel’s. You won’t do that, you plead with him silently, maybe stupidly, and with no answer. Cold eyes. Indifferent eyes. 

“However,” the masked man says, “it will still hurt.”

“If you were going to kill me,” you blurt, trying to go back to the same point, your panicked mind going a mile a minute, “then you would’ve done it when I was unconscious—”

“Silly girl,” and there’s a bite to his voice this time, “you won’t die. The process is much easier while you’re awake. Rafayel will get the heart he needs, and we’ll get our favorite test subject back. It’s not the aether core we care about, it’s the other one.” Even behind the mask, it’s almost as if his eyes gleam.

“The other…core?”

“The other heart,” he snaps.

“Are you going to tell her everything?” Rafayel drawls, finally cutting into the conversation. “Fine, I might as well speed things up. Meri dulhaniya, the aether core is just support. Your actual heart, the one with the sickness, it’s still in there. The aether core keeps it from slowly killing you, but you’ll survive even if I take it out from the cozy little fusion it’s in.” Your heart beats faster as if on command, furiously trying to pump more blood before it can’t anymore. “See, I’ve made a deal with your dear old dad. I’ll be taking that support, but the actual heart, and by extension you, will be staying here.”

The room is spinning. Or maybe just your head. Maybe the poison hasn’t really left your entire body. What word had the man used? Susceptible. Raw. Open for the taking. And he’d called you, or your heart, his favorite test subject. Flashes of the papers that Gran left you, calling you the subject, pass through your mind like images from a movie, choking you even though you’re already drowning. 

“I’ve never told you I was sick,” is the thought you settle on, shakingly throwing it at him. If he’s helping you, he’s doing an incredibly poor job at conveying it. He’s talking about taking what he’s saying is keeping you from a slow, painful death. And he might be helping you, but he killed someone. Rafayel is a murderer isamurdererisamurdererisamurderer, and even though you’re trying to muster up all the trust and courage you can right now, you’re falling just too short to keep your faith in him.

Rafayel doesn’t answer. But he looks at you like you’re stupid, like you should’ve somehow expected this, for him to be tangled up in an auction where you were the one on sale. Like asking for his help was as good as damning yourself, and you should’ve been aware of that fact.

“It is a shame,” the mask says as though he’s tossing out a second thought, a mere comment, “the experiments were originally to see what she could do with both the aether and her original heart. I hope she’s not going to be as weak as the spare now.”

“We have a deal,” Rafayel shrugs him off, taking a step closer. You take one back, only to back into the mountain guard from before, who puts his hand on your neck and shoves you forward. “I need the heart.”

“To restore Lemuria.”

“To restore Lemuria,” he repeats softly.

“Stop it!” you cry out, and you’re not even sure who it’s directed to. “You’re going to take the aether, just like that? What use is my regular heart to Onychinus? What use am I to Onychinus?”

Blues swirl around pinks until his pupils seem to glow an entirely new shade of crimson. “I guess you’ll find out. We’ll do the extraction now.”

And as wholly terrifying as that is, it doesn’t compare to the guard’s hand clamping over your mouth and his other arm grabbing your middle, restraining you completely as he drags you out despite your struggling and screaming against his palm.

“Also, this isn’t Onychinus,” the masked man adds, raising a toast to you as the doors shut, “Welcome back to EVER headquarters, little one. We’ve certainly missed you.”

You’re tossed back into the same room uncaringly, falling onto your tied hands. The guard ignores your gasp of pain as the wind gets knocked out of you. Rafayel walks in after him, shutting the door behind him with a casual click. He’s still in the suit he was dressed in at the Nest, sparing not a single care for you.

“Rafayel,” you wheeze, but only to buy yourself an extra second in which you kick yourself up and lunge at him. 

He reacts before the guard does, catching you easily. With your hands bound and burned against the ropes, you’re about ten percent as competent as you would be normally. Still, it doesn’t stop you trying to kick him. Your foot jams into his knee, and he lets out a pained grunt, pinning you against the wall with his elbow. 

When you try to headbutt him next, he shoves you further, too gently for what he’s trying to do. “Stop fighting,” he hisses, and for just a second you pause, thinking that maybe it’s all been a lie. Rafayel isn’t a Lemurian, he isn’t a murderer, he’s not here to hurt you. He really is just that good of an actor. Nothing makes sense, not the experiments or the protocores or the hearts or anything else. Maybe, maybe, he will make sense again.

But those hopes are dashed when he holds his other hand up, igniting it. A pink flame emerges from his palm, spreading from his callouses to submerge his entire hand in blistering, consuming fire.

“Rafayel,” you choke, genuinely this time, “stop, please.”

For the first time since you’ve woken, you finally see his eyes soften. Something red glows on his chest and he shuts his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath before opening them again. Right there, in this moment, you see the Rafayel you know. Who whines and complains when you’re on time instead of early to your agreed hangout spot. Who doodles you when you’re not looking and doesn’t share the drawings with you if he deems them not good enough. Who always looks at you like that, in a confusing way that makes your heart thump the same way it does when Xavier wakes up on your couch and happily, sleepily blinks at you or when Zayne ruffles your hair with fondness in his eyes and sweet words on his lips. Like you’re the center of his, their, universe.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispers, reeling his hand back, ready to plunge, “trust me.”

But right as you shut your eyes, the entire room explodes.

You’re knocked back, slamming against the wall much harder than before. Your head hits the cement, sending a ringing through your skull and into your ears. You gasp for air, hyper aware of the fast beating of your heart, still in your chest, still working, still pumping blood. Next to you, the mountain guard is completely knocked out, a thin layer of frost crawling up from the floor and digging into his skin.

And once you look up, you see Rafayel too, completely encased in a thick layer of ice against the wall, staring slack-jawed into the eyes of the man who has him pinned, with icy fingers buried in the artist’s collar.

“Hands,” Zayne seethes coolly, “Off.”

a/n:

i’m not creative enough to come up with a whole new language, so rafayel speaking lemurian is just urdu/hindi

playlist for this story

[yesimwriting]

Business Practical

A/N debated writing this bc i already have so many things in my draft i want/need to finish but the new Elvis movie has completely taken over my mind. Austin Butler’s Elvis only though, real life Elvis is super sus. Also this may not be perfectly historically accurate,, but we’re accepting that bc it is not that deep and not worth my stress!! Also this taught me that I will never understand the spelling of ‘colonel’ like it just doesn’t sit right with me. 

Summary: After the release of your hit single, you think that the rest of your career is set. Or at the very least, you’re guaranteed an easy release of your next album. Too bad your label thinks your record’s going to fail if you don’t find someone famous enough to record a duet with you. Fortunately for you, your squeaky clean, America’s newest sweetheart image is just the kind of thing Elvis needs around him to protect himself from his own controversy. (i set this up to have a part 2 but i’m on the fence about it lol, so ig if you’d like to be tagged lmk) 

Update: Chapter II  

Y/n’s POV

I may not know everything, but I know music. I know my music, and I know I know how to perform my music. That’s the only reason I’ve never experienced stage freight when it comes to performing. Because of that, people assume that I’m confident all the time. Now, I’m not one to shy away at the drop of a hat, but my nerves have been tangling my stomach since this morning. 

Will had made it sound like the easiest thing in the world when he pitched his idea in my living room. The label’s sending you to his show, you’ll be escorted backstage right after. It’ll be easy for you since we both know you don’t know how to take ‘no’ as an answer. Everyone in my house was ecstatic. Sure, there’s controversy around him, but no one can deny his talent and success. 

I might be pushy when I need to be, but it’s not like I can strong arm a phenomenon into recording a song with me. I insisted that he’d be better suited for this. Will is a professional and he looks the part. I still feel like a child whenever anyone starts talking business. Will said that was all the more reason to go. It’d be a learning opportunity and feel much more natural.

Maybe I would have fought him harder on it if he hadn’t dangled those tickets in front of me. Everyone in my house knows how badly I wanted to see Elvis perform. 

I didn’t think this through. His performance was as captivating as I thought it’d be, which is a bad thing. There is no way I can go backstage and ask him to record a song with me. I know that his manager is expecting something, but I don’t think they’re picturing me. There’s a good chance that I won’t even get backstage--I look like most of the other girls here. 

“Y/n, you alright?” I can feel Maisie’s cool fingers on my forearm. “He’s definitely back there, and I think you should hurry before you miss him.” 

I’m frozen, not even my best friend’s voice is enough to snap me out of this. “I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t? He was amazing, and you saw the way the crowd reacted, he’s perfect for--” 

“I know, that’s exactly why I can’t.” She doesn’t release my arm. “He’s like a real famous person and I--I thought coming to the show would be fun, and it was, but now I can’t stop thinking about how good he was and--” 

Maisie’s walking forward, pulling on my arm as she moves. “I have never seen you scared to do anything.”

“Maisie,” I sigh, trying to resist her, “This is different. This isn’t some school presentation or even performance. It’s--ugh, it should have been Will. He’s the professional.”

She’s completely ignoring me. Maisie continues to walk, forcing me to take a few steps.  “You don’t need Will, you don’t need anyone. Now go back there and don’t take no for an answer.”

I start walking, but Maisie doesn’t release me. I guess it’s fair, a part of me still wants to escape. With each step towards the back of the venue, my stomach drops a little more.

Maisie’s confidence can’t be faked, because she’s not even bothered by the security guard that’s standing in front of the door that leads to the backstage area. She continues forward like the large man in black isn’t going to attempt to stop her. 

He does, of course, he’d be terrible at his job if he didn’t. Two young girls who just have to have a word with Elvis Presley after his show, that’s not suspicious at all. 

“Excuse me, ladies, you can’t come back here.” 

Even now, Maisie remains determined. “You should be expecting her.” 

The man looks me over with little reaction behind his eyes. “I’m here on Will Walters’ behalf.” 

He blinks at me. “You his daughter?” I shake my head, preparing to explain the situation. “Niece, then? Distant cousin?” 

“No, sir, I--” 

“Oh my,” a voice gasps, “Y/n  L/n.” A girl I’ve never met before with styled mousy brown hair. “I heard your radio interview the other day! And don’t even get me started on your song!” She turns towards the security guard before I can speak. “Let her in, David, and her friend, too.” 

Maisie squeezes my arm gently. The security guard, David, looks me and Maisie over again, and then he steps out of the way. Being recognized by someone because of my music has brought back some of my confidence. 

I approach the girl that waved me in. “Thank you for that.” Part of me wants to let her know how much she’s actually helped me, but that feels awkward, especially considering the way she’s looking at me. 

“Oh, don’t even think twice about it.” with a flick of her wrist, she dismisses it all. “If someone like me’s allowed by here, someone like you should be more than welcomed.” 

“Someone like you?”

She smiles politely, “I’m not anything special, I just follow the tour around. I’m dating someone in the band.” I nod, following her as she begins to walk. “My name’s Annette.” 

“Oh, I’m Y/n, but you already knew that.”

“And I’m Maisie.” 

“Well, nice to meet you both.” She pauses long enough to give me a chance to look around. For a private space, it’s surprisingly crowded. I guess that makes sense when you factor in how many people probably have to work on the show and how many have girlfriends and family members in the area or on tour with them. “Now, you must be here t--” 

Everything, including Annette’s voice, fades into the background. It all blurs into white noise that I don’t care to distinguish because now that I’m looking at him, everything else feels like it doesn’t matter. I thought most of his enthralling nature came from his stage presence, but now that he’s only feet away from me he’s just as attention drawing, and somehow even more attractive now that I can really see his facial features. 

Of course his presence would melt away the tiny bit of confidence of developed, reducing me into the fan girl that can’t help but squeal at his existence. I clamp my mouth shut to avoid falling prey to my destiny. Look away. Stop staring. I don’t seem to have enough self control because my gaze remains frozen. 

At least he hasn’t noticed...and he’s turning his head. Of course he’s turning his head, anyone could sense the kind of staring I’m subjecting him to. It’s only when our eyes meet that I find the strength to look away. But those few seconds of actual eye contact...I could write an entire song just about the blue of his irises and the chill that just ran through me. 

Maybe I’m not insane, maybe he has this kind of affect on everyone. Maisie moves to grab my forearm, which is a good indicator that she’s seen him to. “He’s over there,” she whispers. 

Okay, she sounds shocked and slightly in awe but nowhere near as mesmerized as I am--was, because I’ve snapped out of it, and I’m going to stay that way. I can’t imagine seeing Will again and telling him the reason I didn’t ask his question to Elvis is because he was cute I just couldn’t get the words out.

“Yeah,” I nod, dropping my head, “I see him.” 

Annette hums once. “Oh, that makes sense.” 

Heat runs through my body. “Oh, no--no, it’s not--” My stuttering isn’t convincing her, and it’s not like that’s unfair. “My manager actually set all this up--” 

She nods, “Go on up and talk to him. He’s real nice, not too egotistical like some of the other singers I’ve met.”

I can feel Annette’s warm eyes on me and Maisie’s still squeezing my forearm and everything feels like it’s rushing to my head. “Okay,” I say, making absolutely no effort to move. 

Maisie’s hold on me loosens. “Y’know, hon, to talk to him you’re gonna have to walk up to him.” 

Good point. I mean he’s just standing there, and the person he’s talking to is walking away. I pull my arm away from Maisie while rolling my eyes. “I would’ve never guessed.”

I start walking forward, forcing myself to take even breaths as I approach him. He turns to face me a little quicker than I expected him to. My mind goes blank, no coherent sentences forming in my mind. 

My mouth opens. “Hi.” Really? 

The corner of his mouth turns upwards, like he’s trying to keep something in. “Hello, Miss...” 

He’s offering me a space to provide my name, but before I can speak, a low sounding squeak interrupts us. 

“You’re her,” a soft voice gasps, “Oh, you’re as cute in person as you were in that magazine photo.” 

My smile feels awkward. The last thing I need right now is for Elvis to think I staged something to make myself look like a bigger deal than I am. Will has some connections and after my song took off, I did two interviews, both different magazine features. “Thank you, that’s kind of you to say.”

“I love your song,” she continues, her voice raising enough to catch the attention of others near us. “Is it true you wrote it yourself?”

I struggle to not fidget. “Yes, I--” 

“Aren’t you the July song girl?”

My posture straightens under the new scrutiny. “Yes, that’s my song--”

“Oh when is your album coming out?” 

My lips part, but I have no good way to answer that. “If everything goes well, soon--” After that, the voices of a cluster of strangers beat me out. 

“How’d you get your hair like that in your magazine shoot? I’ve been trying for days, but--”

“Do you dress yourself? I love the modern modest look with all that lace detailing, it’s--” 

“Are you and Elvis together? You’re both--” 

“Your makeup--”

“When’s your next song coming out?” 

I swallow. This is what rabbits must feel like when they’re trapped by predators. Where’s Maisie when I need her? She’s under no obligation to be polite to anyone and has more than made it clear that she has no problem telling people to give me some space.

“Hey,” the deepness of Elvis’s voice cuts through all the overlapping rambling with practically no effort, “Let’s give Miss July here some space.” 

He places a warm hand on my shoulder. I dig my nails into my palms to avoid melting. With all the confidence in the world, he guides me away from the semi circle that formed with no notice. Elvis keeps his hand where he first put it as he leads me down a narrow hall. I can’t see Maisie but I know I’ll never hear the end of this. 

Elvis stops in front of a wooden door and opens it casually. He leads me inside, lets go of my arm, and moves to sit on a stool in front of a lit vanity. It takes me a moment longer than it should to realize we must be in his dressing room. The reality of the situation crashes into me--Elvis Presley just walked me to his dressing room and closed the door behind him.

Okay, I’m being kind of ridiculous. He took me here to save me from having to answer a thousand questions. A thousand questions that people were asking me backstage at his concert. “I am so sorry Mr. Presley, I don’t even know what happened back there. I swear I--” 

“I’m just surprised someone managed to pull away that much attention from me.” The corner of his mouth tilts upwards again. Okay--he genuinely doesn’t seem mad. “No need to apologize for keeping me humble, but if you’d like to make it up to me, I’d appreciate it if you told me how you managed that, Miss July.”

His easy going words paired with that half smile of his are enough to almost make me forget why I’m here. Almost. “Well, I should probably start off by letting you know my name’s not July. It’s Y/n L/n.” His expression still hints at just barely being amused. “That girl was just referencing the title of a song I--” 

“So you’re a singer?” 

The assumption feels false coming from someone like him. I fold my hands in front of me. “Trying to be, at least.” 

“Considering the way people reacted out there, I’d say you’re doing a little more than just trying.” 

The implied compliment warms my chest, but I’m here on a mission. “I’ve only released the one song.” My hands unclasp, falling uneasily at my sides. “That’s actually part of the reason I’m here. Well, at least the reason I’m backstage here, I wanted to come see your show before I’d even really written anything.” Shaking my head briefly, I take a settling breath. “I’m rambling, sorry, everyone at home’s always calling me out for it.” I try to force a polite laugh, but I think it comes out as more of a sigh. “I um--there’s kind of a long story about my label and my manager that I should probably preface what I’m about to say with, but I know you’re a busy man, so I’m just going to say that my manager sent me here to ask if you’d be willing to record a song with me.” 

I feel myself deflate as the question comes out. My own words sound beyond childish and naive in my own ears. What could he possibly get from recording a song with me? One radio popular song is nothing compared to what he has. Even with all the controversy surrounding him, he can fill up any venue he books.

His silence forces me to hold my breath. “Like a duet?” 

“If you’d be willing, but I realize who you are and the kinds of things you’re working on and Will, my manager, just insisted I give it some kind of chance, so I did.” I nod awkwardly, taking a step back. “I won’t take up anymore of your time, Mr. Presley. Thank you.” 

My hand reaches for the door handle of the dressing room. This may be the most mortified I’ve ever felt. I’m never listening to Will again. From now on, business is business and performing is performing. He takes care of his end and I take care of mine.

“You gonna give me a chance to answer before runnin’ off on me?” His words come so suddenly I almost convince myself I imagined them. 

I release the door handle. “Does that mean...you’re considering something?”

Elvis pauses, studying my expression. “It means I’m considering considering something.” 

That’s more than I thought I’d get. “Really?” 

“Anyone that can cause such a stir up with a single song’s worth consideration, Miss July.” 

The fact that he called me that again makes something in my stomach flutter. “I really appreciate that, Mr. Presley.”

“If you wanna work together, you should get used to the idea of calling me by my first name.” 

The invitation is coy, edged by his sharp blue eyes and something else I can’t distinguish. “You’re right. Thank you, Elvis.” 

He smiles a little easier at that. “Now, I can’t promise anything, I’d need to talk to my manager and then depending on that he’d talk to yours and then they’d try to work out the legalities for both our sakes.” 

“I owe you a thank you regardless. Thank you for not laughin’ me off and thank you for pulling me outta there when I didn’t know what to say.”

Elvis’s expression isn’t easy to read. “Like I said, no need to thank me.” He hesitates before searching the vanity for a spare scrap of paper and writing utensil. He finds an old receipt and a pen after a minute. “Just leave your contact information and then your manager’s.” 

I barely manage to take the pen from him in order to give him what he needs. After that, I say a quick goodbye, not wanting to give him a chance to regret his actions, before leaving. 

I close the door behind me when I leave. There are a million things I should probably be thinking about, but the only thing on my mind is getting back to Maisie and telling her everything.

----

Narrator’s POV

----

The Colonel and Elvis were back at it again, discussing how to turn anything into ‘snow’ in order to move Elvis’s career even further forward. After all, his ability to keep his audience entertained isn’t enough to combat large scale public opinion or keep him out of jail.

Though their conversation veered away from long term strategy in favor of discussing new merchandise and tour opportunities. Elvis even managed to bring up that girl, the one with the soft appearance that seemed like a magnet to everyone in her presence. He mumbled her request to The Colonel, expecting it to get brushed off. 

It’s a shame in a sense, the girl, y/n, seemed as warm as the July from the title of her song. He liked the idea of having the excuse to reach out to her. He kept that receipt, tucked it into the pocket of his pants the second she left the dressing room. 

“The girl--is she the same one that had all those people after her?” Elvis nodded, unsure about his manager’s interest. “Her manager told me she was coming. He didn’t give me any specifics. I wonder if that was planned or if he wanted to leave it up to us.” 

Elvis sat up a little straighter. “Are you saying you think it’s a good idea?” 

Tom Parker shrugged. “You know music and I know snow, and with you, that girl could be turned into a blizzard while she fixes our problems.” 

“I’m not following.” 

“I saw her in the newspaper. She wears knee length skirts and she smiles when she’s supposed to smile. She’s what America wants to love, you are what they do love. Paired together, America feels like they can love you.” Elvis drew his eyebrows together, still confused. “She could be the treatment your image needs.” The colonel stopped, playing through ideas in his head. “I need to make a call and I need you to trust me.” 

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 322: IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor was all, “Kirishima please take Hagakure and Aoyama and put them away somewhere out of sight until we’re finally ready for the U.A. Traitor Plot.” Shouto was all “HEY DEKU DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT MAYBE YOU WANDERING THE STREETS LOOKING LIKE A GOTH PRAYING MANTIS IS EXACTLY WHAT AFO WANTS.” Deku was all “I’M SORRY I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY CRUSHING MARTYR COMPLEX AND ACCUMULATED TRAUMA.” Mineta was all “HEY DEKU YOU SWEET THANG, IF I COULD REARRANGE THE ALPHABET I’D PUT ‘U’ AND ‘I’ TOGETHER, ANYWAYS HMU 💖”, or at least that’s what fandom apparently thought he said. Everyone was all “WELL SINCE WE’RE BACK HERE IN KAMINO WE SHOULD DO THE THING” and did the whole “launching someone into the air to save someone by dramatically grabbing their hand” thing that everybody fucking loves to do in Kamino so damn much. Iida was all “[bombards me and Deku with feels].” Deku was all, “ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू).” I was all, “(;*△*;).” Horikoshi was all, “my work here is done.”

Today on BnHA: 

oh my god.

so I finally went back to look at what I wrote up for 321 last week, and it’s a hot fucking mess lol, and I really don’t want to deal with that right now, so we’re just gonna skip it and go back sometime in the next few days or something because I really want to read the new chapter and I have no self control. I’M SORRY IIDA

oh my god he’s breaking out the narration word bubbles oh my god. shit is about to get epic isn’t it

has there ever been a chapter that opened with these that WASN’T epic? serious question. anyways all aboard the Feels Express I guess

YEP

I saved a bunch of other crying kaomojis when I was looking for ones to use in the “previously on” summary, and right now it’s looking like that was a good fucking decision you guys. if I’m going to be an emotional wreck I might as well do it in style ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

AND BY THE WAY!!

SHOULD I JUST THANK HORIKOSHI NOW AND SAVE MYSELF SOME TIME LATER. THE MAN ALWAYS FUCKING DELIVERS WHAT ELSE CAN I FUCKING SAY GODDAMN. IS IT TOO EARLY TO DECLARE THIS MY NEW FAVORITE CHAPTER? I SHOULD PROBABLY READ FURTHER THAN ONE PAGE BUT I’VE JUST GOT A FEELING

(ETA: it’s like. maybe my second favorite lol. A HUG WOULD HAVE PUT IT IN FIRST, I’M JUST SAYING.)

anyway so Ochako is releasing Iida, which is actually hilarious, because idk if you all know this but Iida can’t fucking fly you guys

like, I assume Ochako released him because she already knew that Kirishima was in place to catch him, but I really love this split-second of panic on Iida’s part where he’s all “HMM, IS OCHAKO TRYING TO KILL ME, ACTUALLY”

LOL THERE’S A THOOM AND EVERYTHING

that’s some plus fucking ultra on Ochako’s part right there. “IF THEY DIE THEY DIE” goddamn girl did you leave your chill in the same locker as Momo or what

now poor Kiri is all “DAMMIT DEKU ARE YOU PASSED OUT OR WHAT, I DIDN’T GET TO TELL YOU MY THING GODDAMMIT”

oh my gosh he is curled up so small you guys oh my fucking lord

RESIDUAL “LOST CHILD” FEELS FROM LAST WEEK COMING IN FOR A LANDING!! PLEASE MAKE SURE YOUR SEATBACKS AND TRAY TABLES ARE IN THEIR UPRIGHT POSITIONS OMG ( ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ ₍₎ ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ )

LMAO IIDA IS TRYING TO CONFIRM THAT OCHAKO PLANNED FOR KIRISHIMA TO CATCH HIM, AND KIRISHIMA IS ALL “NOPE I’M JUST HERE BY CHANCE BRO”

Ochako is the U.A. Traitor confirmed. Hagakure I am so sorry I doubted you. Ochako get over here. so are you Toga now or what

anyway so now everyone is running over before Iida can react to this casual announcement of his attempted murder. and now Mina is taking her turn, and Horikoshi is all “HEY BTW IS MINA CRYING ON THE LIST OF THINGS THAT MAKE YOU CRY?” and of fucking course it is, you bastard. I’m not made of stone

( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SLDKFJLSDKJ:LKWEJ

IS THIS THE PART WHERE I JUST START SCREAMING INCOHERENTLY FOR THE REST OF THE CHAPTER LOL. SURE FEELS LIKE WE ARE GETTING TO THAT TIME

OH MY GOD KACCHAN AHHHHH

I CAN’T OMG LOL I ALREADY GLANCED AT THE NEXT COUPLE OF PANELS, AND HE’S STARTING A WHOLEASS MONOLOGUE ABOUT ALL OF HIS DEKU FEELS AND OH MY GOD

“HERE YOU GO MAKESTE, A WHOLE CHAPTER OF ALL YOUR FAVORITE META TOPICS JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE THEM” THANK YOU HORIKOSHI YOU’RE A BRO (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ

SLKASODIFALWKFLKJ

THEY’RE JUST DEKU AND KACCHAN. holy shit you guys. because oh my god, but it’s like when Deku was talking to the Vestiges about saving Tomura, and he turned into his little child self because his heart and intentions were so pure?? and it’s like that again, except that we’re seeing them as their child selves because that’s who they are to each other?? like, not that they actually see each other as children, but just, they can see past all of the stuff on the outside and see each other to their cores, to who they are inside, and when they look at each other they each simply see the other boy that they’ve known their whole entire life. idk?? does that make sense??? DOES ANY OF THIS EVEN MAKE SENSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT WORDS ARE ANYMORE I’M JUST SWIMMING IN FEELS OKAY. I’M TRYING HERE

they’re just boys, is what I’m trying to say, I guess. just Deku and Kacchan. all the walls are down, all the gaps are bridged, and all it is is the one boy reaching out and connecting with the other, and just,,, (꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ)

OH MY GOD [GRABBING YOUR SHOULDERS AND POINTING WORDLESSLY] !!!1LK1

DO YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THIS IS YOU GUYS

HOW PERFECTLY FUCKING RAD. WELL LET ME JUST ENJOY THESE LAST FEW SECONDS BEFORE MY LIFE IS FOREVER CHANGED, I GUESS

OH

MY

GOD

CAN HE EVEN SAY THAT??? IS THAT EVEN LEGAL??? IS HE EVEN FUCKING ALLOWED TO SAY THAT. WHAT IS HAPPENING

OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

─=≡Σ((( つ ◕o◕ )つ

GET IN HERE, EVERYONE!!

Y’ALL HE REALLY DID IT. “BAKUGOU IS SUCH AN ASSHOLE HE HASN’T EVEN APOLOGIZED” WELL GUESS FUCKING WHAT. GUESS FUCKING WHAT, YOU GUYS!! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO ((((／￣∇￣)／＼(￣∇￣＼)))) AHHHHHHHHHH

OHHHHHHHH

HEH. I’M ALREADY DEAD, HORIKOSHI, YOU BASTARD. DO YOUR WORST. GO ON

YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON “US”, HE SAYS. ALONG WITH A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF OMG. KACCHAN, YOU STUDIED!! YOU UNDERSTAND!! PREACH!!

OH NO!!

OH WAIT!!!!

LOL I GOT SCARED THERE FOR A SECOND BUT ANYWAY! EVERYONE GET IN HERE!!! GROUP HUG!!! OR WAIT, NO, WHAT ABOUT -- [GRABS YOUR COLLAR URGENTLY] YOU DON’T THINK -- COULD THEY POSSIBLY -- !!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ARE YOU GONNA HUG!??!?!?!?! I AM NOT OKAY!!!!!!! !!!hgk

REACTION PANELS LOL EVERYONE ELSE IS ON THE EDGE OF THEIR SEATS TOO WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER

LOL OCHAKO

I KNOW THAT IN REALITY THIS FACE IS JUST BECAUSE SHE’S CONCERNED ABOUT DEKU’S FRAGILE STATE RN, BUT I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THE WAY SHE JUST DROPPED IIDA COLD THOUGH, AND I CAN’T HELP BUT FEAR FOR KACCHAN’S SAFETY LMAO. THAT FEELING WHEN THE CLASS PERV AND THE CLASS BULLY BOTH BEAT YOU TO THE LOVE CONFESSION. KACCHAN WATCH YOUR SIX

OKAY BUT LOOK, IT’S NOT THAT I DON’T LOVE ALL OF THE OTHER KIDS, OKAY, BUT CAN WE PLEASE!??!?! HELLO?!?!? MOMO, JUST -- COULD YOU JUST FOR A MINUTE --

NOOOOOOOOOOO

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, I HAVE TO SAVE SOMETHING FOR THE FINALE” HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER WATCH OUT, I’M COMING FOR YOU WITH A TWO BY FOUR!! NOT THAT I’M UNGRATEFUL!! BUT JESUS CHRIST, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT, AND THEN ALMOST DO THAT, AND THEN NOT!! OMG I HATE YOU

sure let’s cut to Thirteen then, yay. I mean I’m glad they’re alive lol, don’t get me wrong

(ETA: I think that might have sounded a bit sarcastic so I just want to clarify that I really am happy Thirteen is alive and on the job again lol.)

it’s just that if your name doesn’t begin with Baku or Deku I honestly am not interested for just these next five minutes okay lol. like I’m just gonna be completely honest. I am too invested lol, please, they were having a moment, JUST LET ME HAVE THIS PLEASE

OH DAMN U.A. GOT SWOLE AF

THIS SCHOOL HAS BEEN JUICING WTF. I THOUGHT YOU WERE TARTARUS LOL

I’m literally not even reading the speech bubbles though omg I’m so sorry. I really hope there is not a quiz, I promise I will come back to it later scroll scroll scroll

okay so they brought him back to U.A. and he’s all tired and out of it yes

oh goody Hagakure knows all about the security system

(ETA: is it just me or is Horikoshi really laying it on thick with the hints about these two guys lately? I’m on to you sir.)

THAT’S WONDERFUL NEWS. GLAD THIS CRITICAL KNOWLEDGE IS SAFE IN THE HANDS OF THE PEOPLE THAT WE TRUST

ffs Deku

WHAT WILL IT EVEN TAKE TO CONVINCE YOU THEN?? SWEET JESUS

-- holy shit, what??!

they know?? how did they find out??! holy shit???

I’m about to cancel the whole of Japan lmao. fucking try me dudes

-- THE PRINCIPAL!?

NEZU GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!! WHAT THE FUCK

“a ticking time bomb” tell you what, this man is just asking to be punched in the face. literally begging for it omg

(ETA: I have been advised that I misread this part; Rat Principal told everyone how safe U.A. was, but he’s not the one who ratted out Deku; that was “the rumors”, apparently. which, if I had to guess, were probably started by AFO.)

oh I see, so it’s to be Feels, Part II then

he looks so sad and tired and lonely and she goes right for the hand, god bless. though if Kacchan’s not gonna hug him, you’d think someone would at least. or is it because he still smells bad. hmm

AND THE CHAPTER’S ENDING ON HER LOL WELL OKAY THEN

I MEAN IT’S GREAT AND ALL, I LOVE OCHAKO REALLY I DO, BUT WE WERE PROMISED GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GODS, WHAT GIVES SOB. I WAS ALL READY TO BREAK OUT INTO SONG AND EVERYTHING. SURE, HE DID THE APOLOGY, BUT WHERE IS THE FOLLOW-UP GODDAMMIT

(ETA: just to clarify the reason for my rambling here, I was really waiting for the hero name reveal and the presumed deeper meaning behind it lol. but I guess that is a conversation still to come! and we still need Deku’s response to the apology too for that matter. lots to look forward to still.)

WELL WHATEVER, SO THAT IS THE END OF THE CHAPTER! SHOUT OUT TO MY BOY RAT “LET ME JUST TELL EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD ABOUT DEKU’S SUPER SECRET IDENTITY, I GUESS THAT’S ALL RIGHT NOW, NOTHING BAD COULD POSSIBLY COME OF THIS” PRINCIPAL. listen here you little shit

anyway but if you’ll excuse me... IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME. IF I COULD FIND A WAY. I’D TAKE BACK THOSE WORDS THAT HAVE HURT YOU, AND YOU’D STAY. I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID THE THINGS I DID. I DON’T KNOW WHY I SAID THE THINGS I SAID. PRIDE’S LIKE A KNIFE, IT CAN CUT DEEP INSIDE. WORDS ARE LIKE WEAPONS, THEY WOUND SOMETIMES. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T REALLY MEAN TO HURT YOU. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T WANNA SEE YOU GO. I KNOW I MADE YOU CRY, BUT BABAY, IF I COULD TUUUUURN BACK TIIIIIIIIIIIME...

[house-of-galathynius]

Sacred Heart - Epilogue 

Chapter Sixteen

~

And here it is! The final chapter of Sacred Heart... I just wanted to thank everyone who has spent the time to read this fic and leave comments, reblogs etc. It really does mean the world to me (and other writers) when you show your love for what we share! So thank you all so much, and I hope you’ll stick around to see what I share with you all next🥰

~

1.4k words 

~ 

Song of the chapter: Sacred Heart - The Civil Wars

~One Year Later~

Aelin was nervously pacing outside the large wooden doors. Lysandra was sitting on the bench to the side of them, watching with an amused expression. 

Her pacing briefly paused as her mother came through the doors and smiled at Aelin. Evalin was wearing a beautiful pale pink dress, her hair up in simple bun and her make-up flawless. Behind her stood Maia, hiding behind Evalin’s legs. Aelin’s daughter was wearing a simple white dress with a dark green sash around the middle, her hair braided neatly down the back of her head, flowers threaded through the hair. 

“They’re ready.” Her mother said matter of factly. 

Aelin blew out a breath. “Everything’s okay?” 

Her mother nodded. “Of course. He’s in there and just as nervous as I imagine you’re feeling right now.” 

Lysandra took that opportunity to stand too and she handed Aelin the bouquet of summer flowers. Then her friend went around Aelin checking that her dress was smoothed out and nothing out of place. When she seemed happy with it all, she brushed a strand of hair from Aelin’s face and smiled. 

“You have nothing to worry about, Aelin. Fenrys has been by his side the entire time and vouched to not let Rowan anywhere without him.” Lysandra stepped back from her. “Today you are going to marry Rowan and there is nothing that can stop it.” 

Aelin grinned and nodded, releasing a breath. “Maia? Are you ready to hold Auntie Lysandra’s hand and go in with her?” Aelin bent down in her wedding dress to look at her daughter, who had blossomed over the last year. Not only had she been top of her class in every subject, but she had also made a ton of new friends and seemed to have come out of her shell even more. Aelin supposed she had Rowan to thank for that. 

“Will daddy be there?” Maia asked. 

Aelin nodded. “Daddy will be waiting for you at the end.” 

Maia’s smile widened and she gleefully took Lysandra’s hand, ready to go into the other room. 

Aelin and Rowan had pondered over what to do for their wedding. After she had said yes to marrying him (again), they debated whether they should just go down to the registry office with their parents and just get it done quickly and efficiently so that they could start their lives as husband and wife. And Aelin had been totally fine with that idea. 

But Rowan had admitted to seeing her wedding dress in the box and exclaimed Aelin deserved to have the wedding she had always dreamed of— after all, she planned enough of them. After some back and forth they had decided that they would wait for a while. Mostly because they wanted to settle into each other again— to get used to being together all the time and just let themselves be happy and relaxed for at least a little while before the stress of wedding planning consumed them. 

It wasn’t until six months ago that Aelin had started to plan out what she wanted. And whilst it wasn’t going to be the big wedding they had originally envisioned— it would incorporate all of the key elements they both wanted. All their closest family and friends would be there and no more. Instead of the big church, they had opted for a the little eight-hundred year old chapel that was located in the village they lived. It could barely fit thirty people in it, but it was quaint and absolutely perfect. 

Aelin was not superstitious, but she had gone to the seamstress in Orynth and asked for her dress to modified slightly. After having a baby her body had changed and she no longer felt like the dress was completely right. And whilst the key components of it hadn’t changed, she had opted to bring up the neckline ever so slightly in an attempt to make it a little more respectable. 

Not only that, but she had had Maia’s name carefully sewn into the veil, along with Rowan’s. So she would have them both close to her throughout the day. 

She felt just as beautiful as she had before and the way that Elide and Lysandra had fussed over her and gasped when she had walked out was enough to confirm that she did indeed look as good as she felt. 

“We’re ready.” Her mother said again and then quickly kissed Aelin on the cheek before her father came over to take her arm. 

“You look absolutely stunning.” Her father said quietly, kissing her cheek gently. 

“Thank you. I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” She laughed. 

Her father squeezed her hand. “I was terrified the day I married your mother. The whole morning we were apart I was jittery and shaky and I didn’t know what to do with myself. But the moment I saw her walk down that aisle…” her father smiled. “You forget why you were even nervous in the first place.”

“I hope so.” 

“Rowan is probably feeling the same way. But as soon as you hold his hand and you’re up there, declaring your love for each other,” her father sniffed, “you’ll only be able to think of him.” 

Aelin held onto her dad tighter. The doors of the church opened and Aelin heard the piano start to play. She took in a deep breath and looked to her father, who was already smiling down at her. 

“I’m so proud of you.” He kissed her forehead and then they started to move. 

Aelin never did admit to her father that he was right. The moment she laid eyes on Rowan at the end of the aisle, everything really did fall away. The fears she had disappeared, her steps became surer and then her father was placing her hand in Rowan’s and the touch of his skin against hers set her alight. 

“You look beautiful.” Rowan managed to mouth to her. 

Aelin didn’t get to respond as the vicar started his speech and honestly she barely remembered saying her vows, or saying I Do. Her head was full of nothing but thoughts of her future, her body floating on the high of Rowan. When the vicar finally got to announce them as husband and wife she felt a relief in herself that she didn’t realise had been there. She had finally done it. They had finally done it. 

Rowan was her husband. 

He must have felt the same as her as his hand tightened in her own and he was grinning from ear to ear. Maia was then running toward them and he picked her up, resting her on his hip as the three of them made their way down the aisle. 

Later that night when they lay in bed together, Aelin couldn’t help but let out tears of pure contentment. 

“Why are you crying?” Rowan asked. 

Aelin rolled on her side, the duvet falling to reveal her naked body. “I just love you so much.” And then she smiled even brighter, ready to tell Rowan the secret she had been hiding from him. “I have one last surprise for you.” 

Rowan rose a brow and sat up in bed. “Another one?” 

Aelin nodded, climbing out of bed and retrieving the box she had hidden in her wardrobe. She tiptoed back to Rowan and handed it to him. 

“What is this?” 

“Just open it.” 

Rowan did as he was told and slowly untied the ribbon and then gently removed the lid. Aelin’s heart was hammering in her chest as Rowan looked at the contents. 

“Are you serious?” 

Aelin nodded. 

“This isn’t some sort of joke?” Rowan said, surprise in his voice. 

“I promise you this is real.” 

“How? When?” 

Aelin smiled. “I suspected last week. I waited until yesterday to confirm.” 

“You’re really pregnant?” Rowan’s eyes were glossy and Aelin wiped away the stray tear. 

“I’m really pregnant. I wanted to tell you sooner… but I wanted it to be a surprise today.” 

Rowan pulled the ultrasound picture from the box and stared at it. “Is this real?” 

Aelin chuckled. “I snuck away to the doctor yesterday to get it. I’m seven weeks.” 

“Holy shit.” Rowan laughed. He put the picture back in and then carefully placed the box on his bedside table. Then he gently pulled Aelin into him and she climbed over him until she was straddling him, their chests together. 

“Are you happy?” Aelin whispered. 

Rowan nodded. Then kissed her once. He pulled back and held Aelin’s arms as he pushed her back so that her stomach was exposed. Then he brought one hand down and laid it carefully over her. “I can’t believe there’s a baby in there. Our baby.” 

“You better believe it, Whitethorn. Because this is just the beginning.” 

“Hell yeah it is.” 

~

@morganofthewildfire @tomtenadia @fredweasleyhasadhd @luckyrunawaycheesecake @live-the-fangirl-life  @fireheart-violet  @charlizeed @scarblx @xo-fangirl-xo  @wordsafterhours @jesstargaryenqueen @sailorsassley @sjmships @endlessdaydream @aflickeringsoul @tillyrubes10 @rowaelin-cressworth @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @rowaelinismyotp @rosegoldannie @maryberry @viajandosinalas @becarefuloflove @allthebooksunderthemoon @sheharahu @swankii-art-teacher @superspiritfestival @becarefuloflove @tanvee1231 @viajandosinalas @backtobl4ck @emily-gsh​ @whispers-in-the-darkest-heart​ @becarefuloflove​ @goddess-aelin​

[padfootagain]

Evening Banter

Here we go for a new request for my 5k event! @acciorudolphx requested prompts 1, 3, 5, 7, 9 and 10 for Ben. But as I asked for only 3 prompts maximum, I've cut down the ask and used these three:

3. "You're stealing all the blanket!"

7. "What do you mean you don't like me? We're MARRIED!"

9. "You're kinda hot when you're mad, not gonna lie…"

I hope you like it!! It's just fluffy fluff and cute banter!

Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Word Count: 1289

It felt good to have Ben back. After being away for months to shoot one of his projects, it felt so right to finally have him laying by your side in your bed. Along the last months he had spent away, you went to see him a few times, and obviously called each other every day. But it was so different to having him on his side of the bed next to you, in your shared bedroom, in your home. To feel his weight bending the mattress in this familiar curve, and hear his breathing next to you in this room that was your home. With the familiar light of his bedside table shining in his dishevelled black curls, and his sleepy eyes blinking while he tried his hardest to stay awake just long enough to read the end of one more chapter. You could smell his scent by your side more vibrantly than when the perfume was but remnants impregnated in his pillow. His body warmed the covers you were in just the perfect amount. And to all these, the simple fact that he was there, that you could reach for his hand whenever you wanted instead of only seeing him through the pixels of a screen made you feel so happy and safe. You felt like everything in your life was right where it should be once more. Nothing was amiss. Nothing wrong could happen for as long as he was by your side, in this bed, with you.

You watched him, your own book long forgotten resting on your laps, as he finally turned a page and reached a new chapter. He grabbed his bookmark and let out a loud yawn as he put his book away on his bedside table and rubbed his tired eyes. He turned to you with a sleepy gaze that made his eyelids slightly drop on his brown eyes. In the dimly lit room, his irises had turned completely black, and you couldn't see when his irises ended and his pupils began.

He gave you a warm smile, filled with fondness, and just with his expression you knew what thought was forming in his mind even if he didn't speak the words out loud.

It meant I love you.

"I'm gonna turn off the light for tonight, darling," he told you with the softest of tones, his voice unbelievably low and deep. "I'm falling asleep."

"Me too," you nodded, putting your own book away and settling down in your bed.

You turned off your light, and turned to Ben. Your husband had slipped down his pillow to lay down as well, but he had kept his light on for now. He was staring at you with a stupid grin on his face and adoring eyes.

"What?" you asked, shying away a little, despite the fact that you had been together for years.

But then, it was Ben, and he still held all his powers over you.

"I'm glad to be home."

You reached for his hand across the bed, your fingers intertwining and locking together, the same way you had done hundreds of times before, the gesture natural, as if your two hands were meant to hold onto the other.

"I'm glad you're home too," you whispered, offering him a tender smile. "I've missed you so much."

"Me too," he hummed, blinking a few times.

You could tell he was fighting sleep just to look at you for a little longer.

"We should go to sleep, honey. You look exhausted," you said softly, brushing a few strands of his hair away from his face.

"Thanks for the compliment…"

You rolled your eyes at his teasing, closing your own eyes. If you showed him by example, he might finally imitate you and go to sleep.

You felt him moving around in the bed, but didn't hear the little 'click' of the light being turned off. You also felt the blanket move around a lot, so you grabbed your end of it and gave it a firm pull.

"You're stealing all the blanket!" Ben complained by your side.

"I am not! You're shuffling around a lot, that's all."

"You are! And I'm cold!"

You released the blanket, heaving a sigh, but Ben used your movement to properly steal the blanket this time, pulling it off of you completely.

"And who's stealing the blanket now, huh?" you complained, turning to him again with a glare.

"Not me," he grinned mischievously.

"Ben, it's late…"

"I'm just getting comfortable."

You tried to pull on the blanket again, but Ben was pulling harder. And the more he was going at it, the more annoyed you became.

"Ben, I want to go to sleep."

"Alright, I'll give you back the blanket in exchange of a kiss."

"You don't deserve one."

"Ouch…"

"You're so annoying…"

"I love you too, baby."

"Give me that blanket!"

"Give me a kiss," he repeated, an annoying cheeky grin on his lips.

And when he was like this, there was no way you would give in.

"I don't like you enough for that."

He frowned in outrage, his mouth falling open.

" What do you mean you don't like me? We're MARRIED!"

"Don't remind me…"

"Come on, give me a kiss."

"No!"

"Kiss!"

"NO! Back off!" you replied with a laughter distorting your words, but you simply couldn't hold it back any longer.

Ben moved to wrap his arm around your waist, with the same shit-eating grin plastered on his face, and he was so annoyingly cute, it was almost unbearable.

You tried – at least a little – to push him away but Ben was way stronger than you, and he had no trouble pushing you onto your back to lie on top of you, making sure you couldn't move at all.

"You're heavy," you complained, heaving a sigh that you purposefully made more annoyed than you truly were.

"You're kinda hot when you're mad, not gonna lie…" Ben replied.

"Stop flirting with me, it won't work."

"Of course it works, it made you marry me!"

"Hmmm… yeah, forgot about that."

He brushed his nose against yours, and if there was any annoyance left in your body, it vanished under the tender gesture.

"I've really missed you, you know? It was hard being away from you," Ben whispered.

"I've missed you too. Even if you're annoying."

"You mean charming."

"Annoying."

"Charming. That's what you meant."

Before you could fight back, he was leaning down to press his lips to yours, and really, how could you argue against that?

"Right… maybe a little charming," you yielded.

"Hmmm… yeah, very charming."

"Don't push it."

He chuckled, almost giggling while he dropped sweet pecks to your hairline.

"I'm tired," he mumbled against your forehead, holding you closer to him.

You softly stroked his bare back in a soothing gesture, and you felt his muscles relax under your touch.

"We should go to bed, baby."

"Hmmm… yeah."

"Come on, you're too heavy, we can't sleep like this."

"Sorry," he laughed, rolling to his side of the bed again.

He finally turned off his light, and placed back the blanket upon your frame, making sure you were warm and comfortable before resting his head on his pillow and closing his eyes. He loosely held on your waist still, just to feel you by his side, just to make sure you were there and weren't going anywhere. But where would you have gone to? There was no place you would have rather been than by his side.

"Good night, darling. Love you," he whispered in the dark, and you couldn’t refrain a smile at the tender words while bidding him good night as well.

"Sweet dreams, babe. I love you too."

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Four)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader, slight Taehyung x Reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 12k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (?), jealous Tae (?), rough blowjob, hair pulling, slight degradation (like 1 line), swallowing, vaginal fingering, vaginal intercourse, coming on breasts lol, doggy style, coming on ass, crying, confrontation, drama and sadness lol

Notes: Okay, SO much happens in this chapter!! honestly this chapter is really the beginning! I hope you guys look forward to more:) remember to send me an ask or whatevs if you want to be added to the taglist! Or even if you just want to chat about the story!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @seagulljk @hass-mich-los

© tastefully-in-luv

Previous ---Next ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your dress gets dragged past your hips and falls to the floor, pooling at your ankles. Your panties are next…it’s a black lacey thong and they are snug against your skin. They get dragged down leg by leg, thrown off to the side. Your skin feels hot and tingly…this bra needs off too. It unclasps from the front, freeing your breasts…they bounce as they’re released, you groan in satisfaction. You’re left completely naked and… wait, this sounds oddly sexual, doesn’t it? Yeah, you’re not getting any, sorry. You’re just trying on different clothes.

Taehyung is taking you to a party tonight and you want to look your best, you want to choose everything carefully. From your bra, to your panties to which dress you wear. You have this dress you’ve been saving but it might be too sexy…it’s black and sleek and falls off the shoulders. You might just wear it though…you’re wanting to give Taehyung some steamy thoughts tonight, even if they’re just in his head. A win is a win, right?

You choose another thong, so there’s no panty lines and a strapless bra. You slip the black dress on and it falls deliciously over your curves. You hum in approval as you eye yourself over in the mirror.

“Lookin’ good babe.” You whisper to yourself, nodding your head with a grin.

Jin is hosting a little party at his place tonight, you know when they say ‘little’ it’s more than you know, a little.So you’re looking your best. Taehyung is wearing dark dress pants and a button up shirt so you know it’s going to be at least a little nice, so you are putting some effort.

Speak of the devil, he’s waiting for you in the living room so you need to hurry.

You slide on your heels, grab your phone and your purse and make your way out your room. You see Taehyung leaning against the couch on his phone when you clear your throat to announce your presence.

“Woah.”

But it’s not coming from Taehyung, no. Coming from your side exiting his own bedroom is Jungkook.

He awkwardly clears his own throat and coughs into his fist. “Uh, you look nice.”

You snap your head to the side to get a look at the man, he’s dressed in his dark jeans with a dark button up shirt tucked into his pants…his hair is wild and he looks…breathtaking.

“What are you doing?” you eye him up and down suspiciously.

“Uh. Taehyung said I could ride with you guys…”

Taehyung slips his phone into his pocket and walks over to you guys,

“Yeah, I thought since we are all going to the same place…also, wow. y/n…you look…” Taehyung gestures towards your body and brings his hand to his mouth, “Just incredible.”

You blush at his compliment, your plan already working. Hehe.

“Thanks Tae.”

“I mean, I complimented you too but aight.”

You hit Jungkook’s shoulder and roll your eyes, “Thanks JK.”

Taehyung looks between you two and smiles softly, he runs a hand through his hair and sighs out.

“Should we get going?”

~~~

Usually during car rides Taehyung holds your hand but tonight he’s holding back, you can tell. Jungkook seems to be in a good mood though, he’s talking up a storm in the backseat, going on and on about how he reached a new goal at the gym. He even playfully flexes his muscles, making Taehyung chuckle from beside you. Jungkook leans forward until he’s in the middle of the console between your seat and Taehyungs seat, showing his phone to the both of you at some meme he found.

“y/n, y/n. LOOK.” Jungkook is shoving the phone in your face. “It’s our favorite meme!”

You take his phone from him, setting it down in your lap, “Before I look…is it The PeePee PooPoo Man?” you stifle a laugh.

Jungkook is already cracking the fuck up, “Damn, I can’t even look at it…”

“Me either…I’ll explode.” You start laughing already, the thought of the meme already killing you.

“What? I wanna see!” Taehyung whines.

You and Jungkook are already laughing your asses off, just thinking of the meme and thinking of Taehyungs reaction. When he gets to a stop light, you hesitantly hand him the phone while you cover your mouth.

“Okay…” Taehyung takes the phone.

“Read it out loud!” Jungkook practically yells, his excitement incredibly evident.

“Yeah, read it out loud!” you and Jungkook look at each other and start laughing again,

“Okay…” Taehyung looks at the meme and starts reading, “Say his name…you won’t be laughing when he kills you…” he scrolls down, “The PeePee PooPoo Man…..”

You and Jungkook DIE. Your laughter filling the car so loudly that Taehyung winces and covers his ears.

“Please tell me this isn’t really your guys’ favorite meme….” Taehyung chuckles awkwardly.

“What do you mean? OF COURSE it is!” You say, trying not to cry.

“Shit, I can’t…I can’t.” Jungkook has his hand on your shoulder. The two of you start to relax, your laughter finally dying down.

“I mean, really? PeePee PooPoo Man?” Taehyung just doesn’t get it. You guys really think this is funny?

You start cackling again at the mention of the name,

“Oh my god, stop. Don’t say his name.” You look at Jungkook who is already looking at you with a wide grin, his own eyes watering from laughing so hard.

“You guys are something else…” Taehyung drives through the green light, his eyes watching the two of you. He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

~~~~

“Friends!” Jin opens his arms wide as if inviting all 3 of you in for a hug, “Welcome to my humble abode!”

“Yes, yes. Very humble.” Jungkook takes the invitation and quickly hugs his friend.

“Taehyung, y/n. Don’t be shy, come come.” He gestures towards his body.

The two of you laugh and embrace your friend, Jungkook stands off to the side looking all around the place.

“Small get together my ass.” Jungkook huffs.

The house is packed with people, lots of faces you don’t recognize but a few faces you do.

“JIMIN!!! TRINA!!!” You leave the boys sides to meet your friends.

“Hello beautiful.” Trina pulls you in for a hug, her laugh ringing in your ears. Jimin embraces you next, his arms wrapping lovingly around your body.

“What’s up sexy.” Jimin winks as he pulls back. Jimin looks gorgeous as usual, his hair pushed back so the world can see that beautiful god damn forehead.

Jungkook and Taehyung jog up to you guys, greeting your friends one by one. “Trina.” Jungkook nods in her direction.

“Jeon.” She nods back. “And hello Taehyung.” She links arms with the boy, “have you been treating our y/n well?”

Taehyung makes awkward eye contact with Jimin, panic written all over his face.

“Yeah Tae Tae,” Jimin says smoothly, his eyes narrowing. “How have you been treating our y/n?”

“Jimin can I talk to you?” Jungkook cuts in.

“I don’t give a shit about our promises from 3 fucking years ago. Get over it.” Jimin spits out, “y/n is my friend. I’m telling her.”

“Wait, Taehyung says he’s going to tell her.” Jungkook rushes to say, he’s got his hands on Jimin’s shoulders but Jimin shoves him off.

“I’m disappointed in you Jungkook. You’re keeping this from her all because you’re scared she’s going to find out about that stupid new years eve party. That was 3 fucking years ago dude, get over it.” Then Jimin quirks a brow, “Unless…you’re not over it? Not over h—”

“Shut up dude, it’s not fucking like that.” Jungkook tries defending.

“One week. That’s all he has before I tell her myself. You fucking idiots.”

“Hey, is everything okay?” You walk between the boys, your hands on both of their shoulders, “things looked heated for a second…” you say awkwardly, “are you guys okay?”

Jungkook gives Jimin a look that you decide you can’t decipher. Jimin rolls his eyes and releases a long breath before turning to face you.

“Everything’s fine, babe.” Jimin gives you a small smile and turns around heading towards your friends, “Trina!” he calls out, “Let’s get fucking drunk!”

You face Jungkook, “Is he alright?” you can’t help but feel concerned, Jimin is acting really strange. Jungkook stares into your eyes for a while, nibbling on his lips deciding what to say.

“He said everything’s fine, didn’t he?” His hand reaches forward to rub your arm, his way of comforting you. Taehyung watches the two of you from the corner of his eye.

“Should we get fucking drunk too?” you tease, trying to lighten the mood.

“You know it, baby.”

~~~~

Once inside, you find Taehyung’s side. His long arm wraps around your waist and pulls you in close to his frame. You two find the kitchen to fetch some drinks, Jungkook follows closely behind you two.

“How about we start the night taking some shots?” You hear Jungkook suggest from your side.

“I like your thinking Mr.Jeon.” your playful tone makes him smile.

“You know I like being called that,” he winks. Taehyung’s grip tightens around your waist and you remember you’re in his embrace.

“Um, what do you think Tae?”

“Sure. Sounds good.” He says quietly, almost detached.

The 3 of you take shot after shot, Taehyungs hand never leaves your body. He keeps you steady as the world becomes just a bit more hazy. You drunkenly laugh into his chest anytime anyone says anything remotely funny. Taehyung enjoys that you’re leaning on him, that you are feeling comfortable.

He watches as you soak in the world in front of you, your wide eyes observing your surroundings. He laughs when you stumble forward every now and then but he always catches you. He kisses your head every few minutes to remind you that he’s here and he has you.

You feel like you’re floating, the alcohol running through your veins and causing the world to be so much more fucking awesome, hell yeah.

You scan the crowd and see a bunch of people dancing and you decide you want to dance too! You take Taehyung’s hand and move your head around looking for Jungkook, but you don’t see him.

“He went his own way a little while ago,” Taehyung reminds you, as if reading your mind.

“Oh.” You don’t mean to sound so disappointed, but you do. You fucking do.

You turn to face Taehyung and smile brightly anyway, “Let’s go dance!”

The music is so loud it’s all your body can register. Every note swims through your ears and every thump of the bass makes you move. Your arms are wrapped loosely around Taehyungs neck, your bodies swaying to the beat of the music. You’re having so much fun until you see it. A few feet in front of you, you see his tattooed hands on some random girls ass. You shouldn’t be feeling the drop in your stomach but you do. You fucking do.

Your eyes trail up his arms until you meet his eyes when you see he’s already staring at you. His dark gaze makes you fucking shudder, you hate that can he do this to you. Even after all this time.

You watch him carefully as you inch closer to Taehyung, you grab a hold of him more tightly. Taehyung grunts when he feels you grind your hips into his. Jungkook watches you as you dance with Taehyung, his gaze somehow becoming more and more dangerous. He leans down into the girls neck and begins sucking bruises, his eyes never leaving yours. He kisses her and she throws her head back, you can see her smile in approval of his attention. He fucking smirks when you roll your eyes. Two can play that game. Taehyung watches you watching him but you don’t notice. But you wish you did. You pull Taehyungs face down to meet you for a kiss, your lips moving against his hotly, though your eyes remain on Jungkook the entire time. Jungkook just glares at you, turning the girl around so she can grind her ass into his crotch.

You sway your hips into Taehyung, his hands go to hold your hips moving them to the beat of the song. He groans when he feels your ass backing into him, he feels himself getting hard at the contact. You feel it too. You break eye contact with Jungkook to look up at Taehyung, his dick catching your attention.

“Oh don’t mind me.” Taehyung throws his hands up, whispering bitterly.

“I’m gonna go get another drink.”

And Taehyung is slipping away, disappearing in the crowd. You watch as he fades from your drunken vision.

You stand there feeling completely abandoned and puzzled when you feel a hand on your arm. You turn your head to see Jungkook standing there, breathless.

“Can we talk? Are we…okay?” He looks strange. Confused even.

“No, I gotta find Tae.” You say, “Plus, you’re busy, aren’t you?” you point your head in the direction of the girl.

“Does that bother you?” Jungkook whispers somewhat defeated, “Because I think…” he shakes his head, “No, I’m drunk.”

“We’re all drunk, Jungkook.” You release his hold on you, “I gotta find Tae.”

Jungkook feels…like he recalls this feeling. He doesn’t want you to go and find Tae. He wants you to stay with him. He recalls these familiar feelings and internally deflates, he doesn’t want to feel this. Not again.

You weave through the crowd until you make your way into the kitchen, you scan the area but see no Taehyung. Frustrated, you smooth down your tangled hair and take a minute to think. Where did he go? Where could he have gone? This house is huge! You recall just trying to find the bathroom that one time. You decide to try the backyard, you walk out the door and notice only a few people occupying the place. But still no Taehyung.

You head back inside the house and try out each random door. Well, he’s definitely not in the kitchens pantry. Damn, you’re drunk. You head down the hall and try out those rooms, your fingers slide against the wall as you walk. The first room is empty, the second room has a small group of people playing some game, the third room—you definitely interrupted something sexy going on. And finally, the fourth room has one Kim Taehyung. He’s sitting quietly on the edge of a bed, he doesn’t even look up to see who entered the room.

“Tae…” you walk inside, closing the door behind you. It softly clicks and you walk towards him.

“What’s wrong?” You ask but obviously you know what’s wrong, but your dumb ass has to make sure.

Taehyung stares down at his hands, his fingers playing with the sleeve of his shirt. He doesn’t look up at you when he breathes out through his nose.

“What’s wrong? Seriously? My girlfriend was dancing with me but playing some fucking eye fuck game with another guy.” He slurs.

Well, you knew. But it still stings to hear. Also, he must be really drunk if he called you his girlfriend and didn’t correct himself.

“I wasn’t…we weren’t…”

“When will you two just…” Taehyung stops to breathe, collecting his thoughts. “Fuck, I think I…no, I just…” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, “I’m so confused.” He admits.

“About what?” you go to sit next to him, you leave a few inches of space between you. But still close enough for him to exhale deeply and lay his head on your shoulder.

“About you.” He says so quietly you don’t really hear.

“I meant what I said earlier.” Taehyung changes the subject. “You look so incredible tonight.” His hand falls to your knee, he starts rubbing it soothingly. You know this would feel nice sober but it feels indescribable drunk. His touch is soft and light that you fall into a trance.

“You think so?” you breathe out pathetically.

Taehyung lifts his head and turns to face you, “I’ve thought about kissing you all night.” He admits softly, “Then you really…” he glances down at his crotch, “Gave me quite the problem.” He drunkenly pouts. “Because you’re so beautiful.”

You can’t help but giggle, “I can take care of that if you want.” You offer, your tone light and teasing yet powerfully seductive.

“Really need to kiss you first.” He breathes out heavily, his cock twitching in his pants.

You lean forward and peck his lips, you lean back and smile but then Taehyung surges forward and plants his lips on yours in a rushed and heated kiss. His lips move against yours quickly, his tongue finding its way in your mouth. You moan out loud, the sound going directly to his growing length. Your hands explore the front of his body, they travel from his hair to his chest to his stomach…all the way until you feel his cock through his pants. He groans loudly when you cup him.

“Are you gonna tease me, sweetheart?” he leans back on his forearms. “Because I wouldn’t mind that.” He smiles slyly.

“I have thought about this a million times, I don’t think there’s any time to waste quite honestly.” Wow, you are drunk because you just admitted that.

“Is it really me you think about?” he whispers under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he looks up at you.

“What? “Nothing, show me what you think about.”

“Have you ever thought about me? If so, I want you to show me.”

Taehyung stands to his feet, “Oh sweetheart,” he begins unbuckling his pants, “I can show you…if that’s what you want.” You nod your head and he smirks.

“Get on your knees for me.”

You do as Taehyung says, you fall to your knees in front of him and look up at him expectantly.

“So fucking pretty.” He lowers his pants down to his knees along with his boxers, his cock springs free, bouncing against his lower stomach. Your mouth fucking waters. His dick is gorgeous but like it’s Kim Taehyung…of course, he has a beautiful dick. It’s long, and thick and golden and you want your lips wrapped around it right fucking now.

“This is okay, right?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Then open that pretty mouth of yours for me, sweetheart.”

But he doesn’t give you time to think because he’s pulling your head back and shoving his cock between your pretty, pouting lips.

You silently gag around him, and you can hear the string of explicates push past his plump lips. He sounds so fucking hot. His grip on your hair only tightens as he begins to shallowly thrust past your lips. He loves how you seem to swallow him whole, looking so beautiful as he fucks your mouth just waiting to fill it with his cum.

Pulling out all the way, he roughly fucks his cock back where it belongs, taking you by surprise causing you to choke. You absolutely love letting him have his way with you, so you moan loudly letting the vibrations stimulate his cock even further.

“You like it when I pull your hair that hard? You like it when I make you feel that’s all you’re good for?” He grits between his teeth. He looks down at you, and you look up into his dark, piercing gaze and mutter words of mercy.

“Taking my cock so good, aren’t you sweetheart?”

“Yes Tae” you say almost inaudibly, tears pricking your eyes and falling in streams as you hollow your cheeks around his thick length. Your chest pounding as you close your eyes, allowing him to go to town on you. His grip weakens and his dick twitches in your mouth, spilling his hot seed down your throat.

“Fuck,” he curses, rubbing your cheeks tenderly. “You made me cum so fast, what a fucking good girl, my sweetheart.” He says, continuing his caress your cheek. You feel your panties become so unbelievably wet, drenched if you will. God damn.

“You let me fuck this mouth…will you also let me fuck this pussy?” his fingers on your chin guides your face to look up at him.

“Please.” God, you’re so needy its pathetic, but its god damn Kim Taehyung.

“First I gotta stretch you out, sweetheart.” He motions for you to lay on the bed, “Take off your clothes for me.”

You do as he says, you crawl on to the bed and slip your dress off, then your bra and you’re about to drag your panties down when he stops you.

“Wait…leave those on.” His dark gaze commands you.

Taehyung takes off the rest of his clothes and makes his way to the bed, crawling over you. Your breath catches in your throat, you feel like everything’s stopped.

His hand lightly drags down your stomach until his hand is hovering where you want him most.

Without warning, he moves your panties to the side and his fingers slide into your sopping, desperate cunt, curling them just right to brush against that spot in you that make your toes curl.

His long fingers slides in and out of you, the sound of your wet pussy and your loud moans filling the room.

“More. More.” you plead.

“What is it that you want?” he says still working his fingers inside of you.

You just moan loudly in response.

Taehyung clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes, “Sweetheart…” he begs.

“You. You. I want you!”

“Fuck yes.” He grits, his hand on his cock already. “Gonna fuck you now, okay?”

“Yes!”

He’s sitting on his hunches as he lines his cock up to your wet pussy. He slowly drags it up from your hole all the way up to your swollen clit, he then rubs circles over your clit with this cock, you both moan at the feeling.

He drags it back down and lines it up with your entrance, taking your legs and hanging them over his shoulders. He finally begins pushing into you with one slow drag of his cock, and as he bottoms out, you whimper his name repeatedly. He is stretching you out deliciously. He stays completely still for a moment before he starts moving his hips dangerously slow, you go to moan out his name but no sound comes out. The feeling of his dick brushing inside you leaving you speechless.

Your mind goes blank for a second, then suddenly images of Jungkook cross your mind. You think about him with that other girl, you think about him fucking her, you think about him coming inside her. You try so hard to speak but the way Taehyung rolls his hips into yours over and over lets out only loud, pleading moans. Only the sound of your whimpers and his heavy breathing fill the room.

Dropping one of your legs, Taehyung moves his hand to the soft skin of your stomach, his touch is electric.

“So close Ju-Tae…”

“Where should I come?” he asks, breathless as he continues to fuck into you.

“My tits.”

Taehyung smirks as he thrusts harder and faster until you’re coming undone on his cock, your loud moans giving away your orgasm. Jungkook’s face filling your mind again as you come…only making you come harder. Taehyung pulls out and shoots his cum all over your chest, he smiles down at you as he enjoys the view.

Taehyung falls forward, his lips meeting yours in a slow kiss.

“That was amazing y/n. You’re so good to me, sweetheart.” He kisses you again.

You look up at the ceiling, the soreness already announcing its arrival between your legs. Your orgasm is kind of sobering you up. Did you just fuck Taehyung? You kind of laugh, a bit confused. It was fun and all…wait, why are you beginning to over think? It’s just…you just had his cock filling you up yet you lay here with his arm draped around you and you feel…empty.

How did things escalate this much? But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? God, why are you being such a baby! You just fucked THE Kim Taehyung and you’re wondering why you feel disappointed…congratulations y/n, you’re the world’s most ungrateful bitch.

But then your sober thoughts come in once again, reminding you of what set you over the edge. No, you don’t want to remember.

Taehyung is already snoozing beside you, his arm loosely thrown over your body. You look down at him and feel guilt bubbling in your chest. What have you done? What are you doing?

Wait—did he really fall asleep while his cum dries on your tiddies?

~~~

The next few days you spend in and out of Taehyungs apartment, he invites you over for dinner, to watch TV, to paint—for sex. Basically, any and everything.

The sex is…good—really good, actually. He treats you super well, still the gentleman and makes you feel incredible.

You want to feel incredible. You should feel incredible. Isn’t this incredible?

But still, something makes you ache. The ache is beginning to consume you. You want it to go, to disappear to leave you forever because you should be feeling incredible. But then your mind goes back to the same damn thing—

Brrr Brrr

You are lying on your bed with a sour punch straw hanging out your mouth when your phone buzzes. You ignore it, trying to focus on your thoughts again but then you hear it go off again. You roll over on your stomach and pick up your phone, unlocking it to read your texts.

Taehyung 8:14pm

Hello beautiful!

Taehyung 8:15pm

Wanna come over for a movie? I miss your pretty face.

You read the texts to yourself over and over, nibbling on your lips like the action will somehow help you. You…this is what you wanted, right?

y/n 8:18pm

You miss me already? You just saw me :p but sure I’ll be over in 30.

You sit up in bed, the straw still dangling from your lips and you begin chewing…the straw disappearing centimeter by centimeter. The sour flavor making you scrunch up your face but you take it.

You sit there and wonder if you even really want to go…but you know you should. So, you get up and get dressed into something a little more presentable and exit your bedroom.

Jungkook is in the kitchen making something to eat when you walk out, he’s got his back to you and doesn’t notice your presence.

“Boo!” you yell out, jumping towards him and hugging his waist from behind.

Jungkook doesn’t even flinch, he just chuckles softly and slowly turns in your embrace.

“What do you think you’re doing miss not so sneaky?” his eyes narrow as he takes in your appearance.

“Wait—are you going somewhere? I…I thought we could watch Howl’s Moving Castle tonight?” he loosens your grip on him and lowers your arms down to your side.

“Oh…” you say awkwardly. “I already told Tae I would go over there for a movie…”

Jungkook blows air through his nose, and rolls his eyes to the side, “Again? Weren’t you just there?”

“It’s normal to hang out with your…friends.” Friends? You and Taehyung are friends or are you more than friends? Or? What is going on?

“Can’t you just cancel on him and hang out with me, your best friend?” he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back on the counter.

“Jungkook…”

“Fine, fine. Have fun.” He turns back around to continue making whatever it is he is making,

Since spending so much time with Taehyung the last few days, Jungkook hasn’t been getting the attention he’s used to. You decide to step forward and hug him from behind again and nuzzle your face into his back.

“Love you.” You whisper into his shirt, the scent making you feel cozy.

“I…” he clears his throat. “Yeah, me too.”

~~~~~

Taehyung collapses on top of you, hugging you from behind, out of breath and sweat sticking to his skin. His thrusts are quick and shallow as he fucks into you, your face buried in the cushion of his living rooms couch.

“Fuck, I’m about to blow, sweetheart.” His hips grind into you and you moan out from the feeling.

“Gonna come all over this pretty ass, that okay?” he grits out.

“Yes. Yes.”

Taehyung quickly pulls out, grunting your name, and comes down your lower back and ass, his hand grips his cock tightly as he shoots his load. You feel the warm, sticky goo dribble down your cheeks and you cringe.

You lay there breathless, even though you didn’t come yourself, but the fuck was still good—so you say to yourself.

“Please get me a towel.”

Taehyung is quick to roll off you and grab his t shirt and wipe your skin clean. “Better?”

“Yeah…”

Taehyung sits back down on the couch, a wide grin on his face when realization hits him… “Oh my god, you didn’t come. I can…I can eat you out.”

“No it’s okay, really.” You assure him. The mood is long gone.

“This just keeps getting better.” Taehyung pulls you to his side, he smiles into your neck as you steady your breaths.

“What does?” your hand goes into his hair and you begin massaging his scalp—you know he likes that. Unlike Jungkook, he doesn’t like his hair being pulled. Ugh… Why did you have to think that?

“God, just everything.” Taehyung pulls back and smiles at you and you try to return it whole heartily but you fall short.

“Hey, is everything okay?” He asks.

“Everything’s fine,” you lie. “Just noticing the time and I think I should head out soon.”

Taehyung pushes his head back, a confused smile makes its way on his face.

“It’s barely 11?”

“It’s just…Jungkook wanted to watch a movie tonight too…you know his horrible sleeping habits so no doubt he’s going to be up for a while, “ you begin. “so I thought…I could still make it to watch it with him.”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything for a while, he only stares at you with hard eyes. He leans back on to the couch and exhales deeply.

“Have you been thinking about this the whole time? About him? Even while…” he shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“Sorry about what?”

“y/n I think…we really need to ta—”

“No!” you cut in, you feel anxiety stir within you.

“I mean, I just mean, we can talk tomorrow? You wanted to meet for brunch right? We can talk then. For now…” you lean over and pick up your shirt and throw it on. “I’m gonna head home.”

Taehyung bows his head down, his hands running through his hair as he mutters something to himself.

“What’s that?” you ask while standing to find your shorts.

“Nothing…” he lifts his head, “Actually…y/n.”

“What is it?” you laugh awkwardly, buttoning up your shorts.

“You and Jungkook…” he stands up too, “When will you two just…”

“I’m gonna go Tae.” Your guilty smile making you feel sick, but it doesn’t stop you from walking towards him and kissing his lips.

“y/n I think I like y—”

“Tomorrow?” you smile sweetly as the ache you have been feeling only grows larger and larger.

“Yeah…” Taehyung smiles back, “Tomorrow.”

~~~~~~

y/n 11:08pm

You still up?

Jungkook 11:09pm

Yeah, whats up?

y/n 11:09pm

you still up for that movie?

Jungkook 11:09pm

You coming home already? But yeah sure:)

y/n 11:10pm

yeah I’m about to head that way

Jungkook 11:11pm

Ok don’t text and drive

y/n 11:11pm

hey its 1111 make a wish

Jungkook 11:11pm

Really? What are you, 12?

You chuckle to yourself as you sit in the driver’s seat of your car, you exit your messages and open up your music app to play one of your playlists.

You put the car in reverse and exit Taehyung apartment complex parking lot, it’s kind of cramped and you’re having to put the car in drive and reverse too many times for your liking…making you feel fucking frustrated.

Your mind goes to tonight…you hate this feeling. You just want to go home. Home where its warm and safe and no one is trying to have a serious talk with you.

You’re avoiding it. You have been for a while…you’re not stupid. Taehyung…no, you don’t want to think about it.

The drive home is relaxing for you…there’s barely anyone else out and your music is at the right volume. Just loud enough that you can’t hear yourself think. Perfect.

You enter your apartment, and are welcomed with a dark, quiet place. Where’s Jungkook?

You take your phone out and shoot him a text asking where he is but several minutes pass and he doesn’t reply. Where did he go? He didn’t…cancel on you, right? He isn’t with some girl right now, right?

Anxiety stirs within you once again, the thought of Jungkook elsewhere making breathing harder. You just wanted to come home but somehow this empty apartment feels like the farthest thing from home. The blue glow of the TV making you feel like you’re in an odd, far off place. You pull your legs up on the couch and hug them close to you, you suddenly feel so lonely. So fucking lonely.

Your face contorts, and before you know it you are trying not to cry. The last few days are catching up to you and you feel like a mess. Why can’t things feel fucking incredible? Your lip quivers and you struggle to breathe in and out like a normal human being.

“Why are you sitting in the dark, weirdo?”

You didn’t notice the sound of the front door opening and the light being turned on.

Your head snaps to the side to see Jungkook at the front entrance with a bag in his hand, he looks at you with a toothy grin until he realizes you’re crying.

“Woah woah,” he rushes to set the bag down and heads your way, he makes it to the sofa and sits down next to you and is quick to pull you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he whispers into your hair. “Are you okay?” He pulls back to get a look at your face, you start sniffling harder.

“Did Taehyung do something?” then Jungkook begins to panic, “Fuck, he did, right? I knew it…I’m gonna beat his fucking ass.” Jungkook lets go of you and begins to stand up when you desperately pull him back down.

“No…” you cry out quietly, “It’s your fault, dummy.”

Jungkook tilts his head innocently, “My fault?” he says, pointing to himself.

“I thought you bailed on me…” you sniff.

Jungkook breathes out and laughs softly, “I was…I went to the store to buy some beer for us.” He gestures towards the bag on the ground.

“Why didn’t you just call me?” he asks.

“I texted…but you didn’t answer.”

“Then you should have called,” His fingers brush across your cheek.

“I thought maybe you could have been with…someone…I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Jungkook looks at you incredulously, his brows pinched together so tightly.

“You think I would do something like that?” he pulls you in again, “I would never do that. I wouldn’t leave you like that.”

“You wouldn’t ever leave me in general would you?”

“Never, baby.” He kisses the top of your head and you nuzzle yourself into his chest.

Home. Your apartment finally feels like home again.

You and Jungkook are a few beers in and watching one of your favorite movies, he looks over at you every once in a while to make sure you’re okay. You smile softly towards him and he smiles back…this goes on for the entire movie. Near the end, you have the urge to be closer to Jungkook so you grab his hand and interlock your fingers. He doesn’t look at you as he weaves his fingers through yours and holds your hand tightly.

“You like holding hands, huh?” you say, slight tease in your voice.

Jungkook goes stiff, a memory sucking him in. Fucking great.

“You like holding hands, huh?” you tease as Jungkook lifts your joined hands above your head.

“Love feeling closer to you.” Jungkook leans down and plants wet kisses down the expanse of your throat, you moan as you feel his lips devouring you.

Jungkook continues to kiss and kiss until his lips meet your collarbone, until his lips drag down to your breasts, until his lips are kissing at your stomach, until his lips are where you want him most. He continues to hold your hands, lowering them to your sides.

“Love feeling closer.”

“It’s pretty late…2 in the morning…sheesh.” Jungkook untangles your fingers, “Goodnight, y/n.” he leans over and kisses the top of your head before standing from the sofa and walking towards his room for the night.

“Night Jungkook…” you whisper, feeling the emptiness dig its hole within you again.

~~~~~

You can’t really describe this hole in your chest that you feel. It leaves you empty and in pain. It leaves you wondering why and how and when this all started…

You’re meeting Taehyung for brunch at the café, you’re seated in a booth across from him and he looks quite chipper. You watch as he eyes the menu and you watch as his lips curve upward into a warm smile when he speaks to you. You watch his lips as he talks, you watch his hands as the gesture around the place, you watch—

“y/n? y/n?”

“Oh. Yeah?”

“You’re not getting pancakes?” Taehyung pouts, setting down his menu.

You chuckle softly, “Why does it matter?”

“I thought you would get one flavor and I would get another and we could like, share.” He says almost childlike.

You nibble on your lip, it wasn’t a bad idea actually.

“Fine.” You smile, “I’ll get blueberry.”

“And I’ll get chocolate.” He grins at you with all his teeth. The two of you wait for your server to arrive but she is nowhere to be found so Taehyung stands from the booth and says he is going to fetch her. You nod your head and watch him walk past a corner. You pull out of your phone and begin scrolling through twitter when a feminine voice cuts in,

“y/n, right?”

You look up from your phone to see a familiar face. Long brown hair, big bright eyes, full pouting lips. Long legs, the works. Anna.

“Um, yes?” you bite your lip, feeling anxious all the sudden. Why is Taehyung’s stalker talking to you?

“If you’re…” you try to come off more confident. “Looking for Taehyung, you should just forget about it.”

Anna looks taken aback before she’s smirking down at you, “And why is that?”

“He’s not interested Anna, you need to like, move on.”

“Oh? It’s me who needs to move on?” she laughs light heartedly. “Listen, y/n. I don’t know what you’ve heard about me but it sounds like you have it all wrong.” She taps her manicured fingers on the table.

“I don’t think so Anna.” You stand up so you’re at eye level with her, “He—”

“Tell Taehyung it’s starting to work though. I am starting to regret it.” She says, her voice so smooth. “Oh.” Her bright eyes widen, “Or I could tell him myself.” She says, looking behind you.

You turn around to see Taehyung approaching the table, his face as white as a ghost.

“A-Anna? What are you doing here?” his voice filled with panic, you’ve never seen Taehyung look so freaked out before.

“Just telling your little girlfriend I miss you.”

Taehyung visibly frowns at Anna’s words. Like they hold depth for him. What the hell is going on? What’s starting to work? What is she regretting? Your head snaps to face Taehyung,

“Taehyung, what’s happening?”

“Yeah, Taehyungie, what’s happening?” Anna copies with a coy smile.

Taehyung looks between the two of you, panic written all over his face. Anna’s hand softly clutches onto Taehyungs forearm and he very clearly relaxes at her touch, making you feel even more confused.

“Do you know her? Like know her know her?” you finally ask.

“Does he know me?” Anna lightly chuckles, a hand coming to cover her mouth, “Do you know me Tae?” she continues to giggle. Then her large eyes meet yours, “It looks like you’re the one who doesn’t know him.” then she’s looking at Taehyung again, “I’ll be waiting for your call.” And she steps to the side, smiles at you and walks away. You watch as she disappears through the door of the restaurant and your eyes never leave the door. Your mind trying to process what just happened.

“Y/n, I can explain.” You finally hear Taehyung speak up. His hand reaches for yours but you yank it back.

“Don’t touch me. Just talk.” You demand, sitting back down in the booth.

Taehyung sits across from you and exhales a long breath.

“Anna is my ex-girlfriend.” He lets out. Pausing, waiting for a reaction from you but it never comes. He continues,

“I might of not been completely honest—”

“No shit.” You cut in, “But please,” you gesture your hand for him to go on.

“She left me for another guy…” Taehyung doesn’t expect you to feel sorry for him, he folds his hands in his lap and he thinks about what to say next.

“I just…wanted her to feel what I felt. Like I moved on, I wanted her to want me back.”

“Because you want her back…” you finish for him. Your eyes darting all around the café. “You lied to me…” then you look at him, “Why me? Why did you ask me?

Taehyung looks down at his hands, “I knew you liked me, so I thought you would agree to it.” He admits.

You breathe out a long breath, your eyes beginning to gloss over,

“You knew I…? So all of this was truly just fake?”

Taehyung shakes his head frantically, “No. No. Well, maybe in the beginning.” He admits, his voice starting to crack. “Anna—“

“And how didn’t I know you had a girlfriend?”

“Listen, please just listen. Anna and I were dating, yes. But she wanted to keep quiet about it…” he notices you quirk a brow, “She had her reasons.” He defends. “but then she came to me, telling me all this shit about how she met someone else and I…I panicked.” He looks down at the table, his voice wavering.

“Am I supposed to feel bad for you?” you point out, “You fucking used me.”

“I know, I know.” Taehyung chokes on his words, “And I feel awful about it,”

“How awful Taehyung? You fucked me.”

Taehyung’s eyes widen, he shakes his head again. “Please let me continue….I…I am really confused right now. I thought I wanted Anna back but you…you make me feel…but…”

“But what?” you cross your arms over your chest, you raise your head, trying your best not to fucking cry.

“I’m just so confused.” He says again.

“You used me.” You whisper, your tears finally fleeing from your eyes.

“Yes…but I think you used me too.”

Excuse you? The fucking audacity this fucker has!

“Used you? Please tell me how I used you!”

Taehyung meets your eyes, they’re soft and warm. “Please don’t play dumb,” he says.

“Aren’t I just your little distraction from Jung—"

“Stop.” Your eyes grow twice their size, you push your shoulders all the way up to your ears. You’re fuming. “I don’t know what you think you—”

“y/n.”

He looks at you softly, you stare into his eyes and your lip begins to quiver. What does Taehyung think he knows? What does Taehyung know that you’re too afraid to say out loud yourself? Your eyes refill with tears and he reaches for your hand across the table, this time you don’t pull back.

“It’s okay y/n, I know.” He says so gently it feels like someone’s hugging you.

You stare at him in disbelief while the tears begin to fall. Fuck. Years of pent up emotions finally break free, you quietly sob like a baby in the booth of the café. His hand never leaves yours.

You cry like this for several minutes, letting years of unrequited feelings get washed away. Taehyung eventually moves to your side of the booth and holds you, you cry pathetically into his chest. Why couldn’t this work? You made a wish in the bubble bath and everything…why couldn’t you get your way? You sacrificed so much…you put Jungkook’s friendship on the line for this…why?

“How did you figure it out?” your shy tone makes Taehyung smile fondly towards you.

“You’re pretty obvious. I always thought you guys had a thing going to be honest…but he always denied it.”

You feel your stomach drop, it’s not like you’re surprised that Jungkook would deny something like this but for some reason it still hurts.

“Makes sense.” You sniffle into your elbow. “We aren’t like that.”

Taehyung looks at you with so much fucking pity it kills you.

“y/n…he could feel the same way…”

“He doesn’t.” you rush to say, “Trust me.”

Taehyung looks down at his hands, he feels more guilt surface. He’s kept so much from you…now he’s keeping another secret.

“Don’t give up.” He smiles towards you, “I hope that with time you can be my friend again…I understand if you want some space.”

“Wait.” You feel anger begin to bubble over, “Jungkook…he fucking knew about you, didn’t he?” you ball your hands into fists. “He didn’t fucking tell me?” you turn your head to face Taehyung, your eyes filling with tears once again. Your best friend didn’t tell you about this?

“Wait wait y/n. That’s my fault not his, I swear. A few years ago I told him and Jimin about Anna and they had to swear not to say anything and they told me stuff in return…so the 3 of us swore to each other…” he begins losing his train of thought, “It’s just…it’s not his fault.”

“Jimin…too?” Your brows pinch together, you feel so fucking betrayed. You feel like an idiot.

“Jimin only just found out and he only didn’t tell you because Jungkook said he was going to tell him that I planned on telling you…”

“Were you going—”

“Yes!” Taehyung exclaims loudly, the people in the next booth over look over. “I promise, I just—I needed to figure out how. But then my feelings got so confusing and we slept together and I thought I could pretend…”

“Okay okay…” you pat his back, “I believe you.” And you do. You recall every moment he was going to tell you but you stopped him…because deep down you knew this was all too good to be true.

“y/n please forgive me.” He chokes up, “I really don’t want to lose you.”

You chew on your bottom lip, contemplating what to say. Yes, you feel hurt and betrayed but are you any better? You were so desperate for Taehyung to like you because…because you wanted to forget about Jungkook. You used him too. He’s right. And no matter how hard you tried and how much you forced yourself…Jungkook is still the only one you can think about.

Wait a fucking minute. No. He lied to you. He used you. And yes, maybe you were maybe trying to use him too but his is much worse. And you shouldn’t forgive that so easily. Right?

“I think you’re right about needing space Taehyung…you…you did me really wrong.”

Taehyung exhales deeply, looking into your eyes.

“I know y/n. I’m…I’m so sorry.” he looks down at his hands, they’re cold and clammy.

“y/n…please believe me, I’m so confused. I think I like—”

“Don’t.” you hold up your hand in front of him. “Don’t do that.”

Taehyung’s shoulders slump as he nods his head un understanding. “Sorry.”

You’re hurt. You feel used and betrayed. You should direct all your anger towards Taehyung, the one who did this to you but somehow the feeling of hurt and betrayal is coming from someone else. Jungkook. He kept this from you. Why? Why the hell would he keep this from you? You guys are supposed to tell each other everything but then you scoff at your own thought. He won’t even open up about his home life, why are you surprised he keeps things from you?

You decide to walk home from the café, rejecting Taehyungs offer to give you a ride. You need the fresh air, let’s be honest. You finally see your apartment in view and you sigh.

You reach the front door as you unzip your bag to reach for your keys to unlock the door. The keys are cold between your fingers as you search for the right one, but much to your frustration you can’t fucking find it. Obviously, it’s here. But why is it hiding from you?

You very irritatingly rattle the knob just for shits and giggles. You even pound the door with your fists just letting out all your anger, the feeling of betrayal catching up to you. You hit your head against the wooden door repeatedly wincing at the pain but not letting that stop the movement.

Much to your surprise, the door swings open and your head falls forward into Jungkook’s warm hand. You look up with shocked, watery eyes. He studies your face for a few seconds before exhaling deeply.

“What’s wro—"

“You knew. About Anna.” You spit out, standing tall.

Jungkook’s lips form a small ‘o’ before his face is hardening. “I tried to warn you.” Is all he says.

“Warn me?” you scoff in disbelief. “You should of told me.”

“You should of just listened to me, and trust me.” He scoffs back, his lips turning downwards.

“You let me go around pretending to be his girlfriend when you knew how much I liked him??”

“You’re not my responsibility. And it wasn’t my business,” he eyes you up and down. “Are you going to come inside or not?” he gestures towards inside the apartment. You are quiet for a moment before breezing past him and settling in the kitchen.

“Why are you always keeping things from me Jungkook?” you feel so tired, just so fucking tired.

“y/n…” he shuts the front door and walks towards you, his head hanging low. “I wanted to tell you but I couldn’t.”

“Yeah, you guys have your fucking weird ass secrets or whatever. Probably another thing I don’t know about you.”

Jungkook’s eyes grow in size, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline. “He didn’t tell you…”

“No Jungkook.”

He sighs in relief. He walks closer to you until he’s reaching his hands to grab yours.

“I’m sorry…he—”

“We…” you feel your eyes bubble over with tears again, “We slept together.” You sniffle, “He fucking used me.” You stare at Jungkook with a pained expression, “All this time I—I thought I was making progress…” your head falls into your hands and you begin to cry.

. “That asshole fucked you?” Jungkook’s voice is dangerously low.

“I told him…he couldn’t…that fucking dick.” Jungkook turns towards the counter and grabs his keys.

“W-What are you doing?” You lift your head, panic written all over your face.

“Gonna beat his ass.” Jungkook is walking towards the front door to find his shoes.

“No!” you rush towards him, grabbing onto his arm, “I-I’m fine. Me and Taehyung are done, it’s over. No need to do anything el—”

“Fine? How are you fine?! You’re not fine, y/n!” he looks at you, exasperated.

“I—"

“This is my fault.” He bows his head, “I should of told you.” “Well…yes. You should have Jungkook.” You let go of his arm and turn around, you run your fingers through your hair. You feel frustrated as fuck.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

“How can I make this up to you?” Jungkook doesn’t know how to feel right now. Guilty? Horrible? Okay? Happy that you and Taehyung are finally fucking done? Furious that his friend fucked you? You of all people? He should beat Taehyungs ass just for that alone.

“I said… why the fuck didn’t you tell me?”

Jungkook’s eyes leave yours, they move all around the place as he mind races. What can he say?

“Don’t worry about it.” He whispers.

Your eyes go wide as hell, biggest they’ve ever been. “No. No.” You quickly walk towards him, you shove his chest. Jungkook pinches his brows together as he stumbles back.

“You will not give me that bullshit, Jungkook.” You cry out.

“Just tell me how I can make this up to you so we can move on…” Jungkook crosses his arms over his chest.

“So we can move on? How dare you? You fucked up, Jeon Jungkook!” You struggle to find a breath as you cry, “tell me why!”

Jungkook frowns as he watches you, his heart breaking, He can’t tell you why. His mind takes him back to 3 years ago when he made a promise with himself, he would never tell you why.

“You’re going to lose me Jungkook.” You wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, “Do you want that?”

Jungkook feels his heart pounding. Lose you? No, he can’t…

3 years ago

You haven’t talked to him in weeks…and it’s pure torture. He is feeling the same pain he felt when his mom left him. Not the exact same pain…but the feeling of loss is there and it hurts.

You are without a doubt the most important lady in his life and he fucked it all up. He should of never... Why did things have to escalate like that? Why did he have to brush it off like it was nothing? Because now you aren’t talking to him. Is this going to…ruin your friendship?

Jungkook doesn’t think he could handle that. Could he handle another loss like that? No. He needs you in his life, he needs you. He thought…you wanted it. Wanted him. But he was wrong. And he is willing to do anything to go back to how things were before…he wants nothing more than to have your friendship. He swears he will never, never jeopardize your friendship again, no matter how empty it might make him feel.

One month. It took one month for you to finally respond to his texts and agree to meet up. You showed up at his apartment wearing your sweet smile and he broke down crying in front of you for the first time. You sat him down and rubbed his back, whispering words of comfort.

“Let’s just…never talk about it.” You continue to pat his back. Jungkook lifts his head and nods slowly.

“Okay…” he agrees,

“We don’t want to risk our friendship.” You rub the center of his back and he flutters his eyes shut. “Promise?”

Jungkook nods his head again. He promises he will never bring it up, bring up his…his…he promises he will never bring it up. He has to bury this. Because he won’t risk anything with you. He won’t lose you. He won’t make you uncomfortable again, he won’t cause damage to this friendship. He will be best friend Jungkook and that’s it. Because that’s what you want.

The flashbacks are too overwhelming for Jungkook, his memories flooding his body and he’s beginning to drown. His breathing becomes harsher, the loud breaths filling your ears.

“J-Jungkook?”

Jungkook stares at you with his mouth wide open, he tries to speak but no words come out.

“Hey?” you walk closer to him but he takes a clumsy step back.

“Lose you?” he finally manages to stutter out, his eyes wet with unfallen tears.

“Just tell me why, Jungkook.” Your voice is soft this time and he chokes on a quiet sob, his tears beginning to spill.

You walk closer and Jungkook steps back until his back is against the front door, he wipes his sweaty palms on his sweats. These feelings…he doesn’t want to taste their familiarity. He breathes deeply and screws his eyes shut.

“y/n…” he whimpers.

“Just tell me, Jungkook.” You’re standing just in front of him, your chest almost touching his. You tilt your head up and your hands travel up his arms until they’re cupping the back of his head.

Jungkook hesitantly opens his eyes and stares down into your eyes.

He stares down at your face and he admires all your features…he observes how creamy your skin looks, how your eyes crinkle at the edges, how your eyebrows crease slightly as you frown and how pretty and pouty your lips look. His eyes never leave your face as he takes you in. Cute. That’s how he usually views you. But today, right now, you look absolutely beautiful.

Jungkook feels his heart starting to thump wildly in his chest and he grows anxious. He can’t view you that way. He won’t. But his eyes linger on your lips and you look at him with such a cute, confused expression and he can’t help but lean a little closer. He can’t do this. He won’t do this. The anxiety grows and grows but he gets closer and closer. Your eyes begin to flutter shut and before he knows it, his lips find yours. His mouth slants over your own in a long, hot and maybe even a little sloppy kiss. His lips are plush against your own, they move in desperation at first but come to a slower pace. He begins savoring you. But you don’t move. You are in a state of shock.

Before you know it, Jungkook is unfortunately moving away from you. His lips disconnecting from yours and a look of horror is plastered on his face.

“Sorry I—”

You stare at him in shock, not able to speak.

“y/n… I shouldn’t have done that, I’m sorry—”

And then you’re snorting. A light hearted giggle escapes your lips and you go to cover your mouth from the slip.

Jungkook continues to look horrified, totally and completely terrified of your reaction.

“Sorry, it’s just…” you continue to laugh, “This reminds me of the first time we kissed.” You say softly, a small smile decorating your face.

Jungkook frowns at your words, taking a moment to think.

“It does?” he says, but then he remembers how it went and a soft smile begins to make an appearance.

“Yeah.”

“I dare you to kiss y/n” Jimin says with an evil smirk. You choke on the drink you have in hand once you process his words, eyes wide in terror. Kiss you? Jungkook? Your best friend?

Everyone in the room starts whooping and hollering at the idea but you shake your hands in front on you in denial.

“No, no. We can’t do that!” you slur, your eyes squeezing shut at the idea.

“Yeah, no way in hell am I kissing her.” You hear Jungkook say harshly from beside you.

You don’t know why but that kind of sucks to hear. You feel a pang in your chest, why did he have to say it like that? You mean, it’s just a kiss. It’s not like you were disgusting right?

“Uh yeah.” You say, your mood obviously shifting.

“That’s literally the last thing I want to do!” You hear Jungkook cackle. “someone else can do the honors” he continues to bark loudly, his laughter filling the room.

Jimin frowns, his hands clasping together. “Fine, I dare you to kiss Amber instead.”

“That, I can do.” Jungkook smirks.

How is your best friend making you feel so rejected? You feel your heart drop to your stomach and your stomach drop to the floor. Amber is pretty…probably Jungkook’s type. Although you thought Jungkook didn’t have a type. But whatever it is, it isn’t you.

“I’m gonna go get something more to drink,” you say to no one as you stand to your feet and begin heading out the door. But you feel a body behind you and you know it’s Jungkook. You roll your eyes, feeling annoyed.

The party is still going hard when you make your way downstairs again, you weave through the crowd to get to the kitchen to fetch yourself another beer.

“y/n! Wait up!” you hear Jungkook call from behind you but you decide to ignore him.

You find the cooler of beers and grab yourself one, the chilling beer freezing against your fingertips. You crack it open and begin chugging it back, enjoying the carbonation that sizzled down your throat.

“Slow down Lightning McQueen.” Jungkook chuckles next to you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you snap.

“What’s with you?” he quirks a brow, looking adorable while doing so.

“What are you doing here?” you snap again, “Shouldn’t you be like, making out with Selena or whatever her name is.”

Jungkook tilts his head to the side, his doe eyes big and bright, “Selena? Oh! You mean Amber? Nah, I saw you leaving so I came with you.” He smiles, “I told you no girls tonight. I am spending new year with you.”

You blink at him in surprise, but you shouldn’t be surprised. Jungkook always keeps his word to you.

“Want to go outside?” he asks, heading nodding towards the back door.

“It’s cold, Jungkook!”

“I’ll keep you warm.” He winks then transitions into a soft smile, “Promise.”

The two of you walk outside, it is pretty damn cold, your skirt and crop top barely doing enough to keep you warm.

“Here.” Jungkook is shrugging off his jacket and handing it you.

“Thanks” you shiver, slipping on the warm, fuzzy coat. “Will you be fine?” you question.

“Only if you come snuggle with me.”

“Do these lines work on most girls?”

“Usually all of them.” He smirks, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

You giggle and move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his middle. Even though it’s like 20 degrees outside, Jungkook is unbelievably warm.

Jungkook pulls his phone out to check the time, huffing when he sees there’s still a few more minutes until midnight

“So how many girls did you have to reject tonight?” You ask with a snicker. Jungkook raises a brow in question, “Like, ‘oohh Jungkook please be my new years kiss??’ ya know, shit like that.” You mock.

“Oh that? No girls lining up tonight.”

“Why’s that? You shut em all down early?”

Jungkook sways back and forth, your body clinging on to his, “I think they all see me with you tonight and are laying off.”

You scoff at his words, “Right, because I have stopped them before.” You roll your eyes.

“Ha, you never know.” Jungkook takes another look at his phone, “Oh less than a minute.” He says with the shrug of his broad shoulders.

“Wanna be my kiss Jeon?” the words slip out of your mouth almost killing you in the process. You can’t believe you just asked that, “Just kidding, you would rather have someone else kiss me, right?” you huff, saving yourself.

Jungkook chokes on his spit as he tries to swallow down your words, “W-What?”

“Nothing.”

Jungkook obviously heard you loud and clear. Did you actually want to be kissed by him?

5

4

3

2

1

Cheers of your classmates erupt besides you and you cannot help but smile at everyone’s happiness.

“It’s nice right? Every—”

You didn’t get to finish what you were saying before Jungkook’s chapped lips were on yours. His mouth is warm and inviting but you don’t make yourself at home. Instead, you stand absolutely still as Jungkook innocently moves his lips over yours. Before you can really react, Jungkook is pulling away: absolutely horrified.

“y/n…I shouldn’t have done that…I’m sorry,” Jungkook is quick to stutter out.

You are frozen. You wish you could blame something, anything, wish you could blame the flurries that floated down to the earths ground, wish you could blame the below freezing weather and your short mini skirt, wish you could blame anything for why you are standing absolutely frozen.

You wish you could move, but the universe just won’t allow it.

“Oh my god, y/n…I really am sorry…fuck…” Jungkook’s wide eyes are focused on his feet as he threads his fingers through his thick, black hair. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Please forget about th—”

Jungkook’s lips may be a bit chapped but they are as soft and fluffy as you have once imagined. With your lips back on his, you take charge. You quickly move them over his, he hums in satisfaction. Your fingers find themselves in his dark locks, pushing up into his soft hair as his hand moves to cup your jaw.

You gasp when you feel his teeth nibble at your bottom lip, and moan into his mouth when you feel him jerk his hips into yours.

“Let’s go to your place.” You heavily breathe out, your fingers dragging down the side of his face.

Jungkook disconnects himself from you, stepping back a good foot, inspecting your face,

“You sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure.”

“Are you thinking about that night?” You ask, your voice low.

“No.” he lies, “We promised we would never talk about it y/n. We don’t want to risk our friendship…” he pushes you back by the shoulders—gently, of course. “We need to forget about this kiss too. I fucked up. You’re in a bad place right now—”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. The guy you had feelings for was fucking using you y/n, of course you’re not fine.”

“Would if I want to kiss you Jungkook?”

You don’t believe your own ears as you ask that, but god, you have been holding all this in for 3 years. And he kissed you.

“You don’t. You’re throwing yourself at me because you’re in a bad place.”

You scoff, not believing his choice of words, “Throwing myself?”

“You—you know what I mean.”

“We agreed, didn’t we?” you take a step towards him. “We would never talk about that night, ya know, to save our friendship or whatever.” Another step. “But would If I don’t care anymore?”

Jungkook narrows his eyes at you, “You don’t care about our friendship anymore?” his tone soft and almost sad.

“I just mean, I wonder what more…no, forget it.”

“Yeah, forget it. You’re just sad about Taehyung.” He says more seriously. He backs himself into the wall, he continues to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants.

He…he isn’t wrong. You know what? You are sad. You’re sad Taehyung thought to use you the way he did…you’re sad your best friend didn’t tell you about it. And for what? Because he apparently has a secret of his own? Great, just another thing you don’t know about him. You don’t want to cry and you don’t think you will but that tightness in your throat is apparent and warning you of oncoming tears.

Jungkook lets out a frustrated breath as he pulls you back in to his chest…and you’re too weak to resist. You wrap your arms around him and breathe him in, his scent filling you up and making you feel more at home over and over again.

Jungkook’s hand trails up from your waist to the back of your head, he hated seeing you like this.

The first time Jungkook saw you cry was a couple of years ago in an abandoned parking lot in his old beat up car. Your boyfriend had just broken up with you and you let all the emotions build to the point that when the seatbelt wouldn’t god damn buckle, you lost it. You sat there struggling with the seatbelt trying to click it in the stupid hole thing and it just wouldn’t. Jungkook just watched you with pity as you continued to curse at it for not clicking. You finally gave up, letting the seatbelt crash against the side of the car as the water works began.

You cried like a baby, the tears falling helplessly and Jungkook didn’t know what to do. He knew not to ask why your boyfriend broke up with you but he had a hunch and he was eaten alive by guilt. It was probably the same reason the boyfriend before that broke up with you. Him.

You are obviously growing frustrated but you never, not once, took it out on Jungkook. Instead, you would say it’s fine that you hardly liked them anyway. But he also knew that was almost always a lie. You had this boyfriend that was more serious than the others—he felt it, he knew that this boyfriend would become priority and Jungkook had to be okay with that. But before things could deepen and become more serious…he dumped you.

This was the first time you actually cried over one of your breakups and Jungkook felt heartbroken, he felt lost and confused. This was his fault for being so close to you? But he chooses to be selfish again and again. Because he never distances himself from you, no, instead he somehow always becomes closer. He’s selfish and he knows why.

“Maybe you should take a nap…” Jungkook doesn’t want you to go to sleep. He just doesn’t want you to go. But he has to let you go…in more ways than one.

“Sleepover?” You don’t want to be alone right now.

“Not right now…” he gently pulls you off his body, his head tilted down to get a good look at you.

“I think we need some space y/n.” He almost regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, your face falls into a deep frown and he wants to take it back but he can’t.

“What do you mean?” You reach up to caress his face but he pushes his head back.

“I need time.” He states.

You begin shaking your head as you start to panic.

“Time for what?” you ask desperately.

“We just…don’t…” his words fall ill on his tongue, they’re on the verge of death but he pushes them out regardless.

“We aren’t working right now…I don’t know how else to say it.”

You shake your head more frantically.

“No Jungkook…” the tears that wouldn’t fall earlier begin to slide down your cheeks as you realize what he is saying.

“I’ll stay at Jimin’s for a while.”

“Jungkook please…I cannot be without you…” you wipe your face with the back of your hand.

“You can.” His hand reaches up to wipe away a few stray tears and you lean into his touch, loving the warmth his hand provides.

“I can’t.” you whimper into your shoulder, trying to hide your face. “What happened to ‘never leaving you’ huh?” you spit out.

“I’ll always be here for you y/n but right now I just need some time to think.” He says quietly, almost ashamed.

“Think about what Jungkook?!” you raise your voice at him and you wince at your own volume. What the hell does Jungkook even need to think about?

Jungkook knows that this is selfish but he has to…he has to put some distance until he can handle things again.

“y/n.” his tone warning you to be careful. Jungkook wants nothing more than to hold you and be here for you but for his own god damn sake he needs to get out of here, for his own fucking heart.

“I’ll be back in a few days, I promise…” he pleads, holding on to your waist again. “Just please give me a few days.”

You look into his giant doe eyes and you melt. You exhale through your nose and give him a troubled smile.

“Just a few days?” you look down at your feet, finding your shoes to be fascinating.

“I promise.”

Little did you know this was going to be the first promise Jungkook ever broke.

[faulty-writes]

[ I present to you part five of my Demon!Tenya series. I'm gonna warn everyone right now if you don't like blood, death, dying, or likewise, don't read this chapter. Yes, what Tenya does in this chapter might not be...Tenya-like. But keep in mind he is the same person that wanted to kill Stain at one point. Also, this was meant to be a Halloween series so you know, horror and shit. ]

[ PART ONE ] - [ PART TWO ] - [ PART THREE ] - [ PART FOUR ]

[ PART SIX ] - [ PART SEVEN ] - [ PART EIGHT ] - [ PART NINE ]

[ This isn't how you pictured the end of your life playing out, but at least the hellhounds were nice enough to escort you to the underworld where Tenya is waiting and longing to be reunited with you. ]

Thin lines of blood began to drip down your neck, and unlike the injury to your shoulder, this wasn't likely to clot up and dry. You winced as Tenya's nails continued to push deeper and deeper, painting his fingers completely red.

The iron scent of your blood filled his nostrils and made his mouth water, but he refused to release your neck even as the temptation to lap his tongue over his fingers grew. No, he needed to complete this job. He had so many things planned for you and him and so little time to waste.

Your body began to feel light and your vision was fading, clouding over with darkness. ‘I don’t wanna die like this!’ you frantically thought, mustering up all your remaining strength to try and pull his fingers away.

The world around you was becoming silent, and you struggled to hear what Tenya was saying. Although given your current situation, you really shouldn't give a damn what he was saying. “My hellhounds will ensure that you are properly escorted to me," he said, turning to look at one of them.

They were loyal and followed orders only spoken by the royal family. He turned back, ignoring how your blood was beginning to ooze down the front of his hand and soak into the sleeve of his suit. "Then we will perform the ritual vows," he felt some excitement knowing that he was so close to having you.

"After which, we will belong to one another for as long as eternity sees fit,” in one fluid motion, he allowed his nails to cut through your throat causing a massive amount of blood to splatter across not only the doors you were attempting to use as an escape route, but him as well.

He watched your now lifeless body fall to the floor, staining the tiles beneath you a deep red. Your blood covered a portion of his face, and the front of his suit. He tilted his head back, finding himself overstimulated by the scent of your blood.

A deep growl rumbled in his throat and he hesitantly brought his blood-coated fingers to his mouth. This was far from how he should be acting, one needed to be sitting in front of a table when consuming food or beverage. But, he couldn't help himself.

Perhaps he could afford two slip-ups today. He parted his lips, allowing his forked tongue to come out which then greedily lapped over each one of his fingers. A soft moan escaped him when your blood flowed over his tastebuds, it was bittersweet and delicious.

Once he had his fill, he reached into the front pocket of his suit and pulled out a handkerchief to delicately dab his mouth clean. "Hm..." as he tucked it back into the said pocket, he happened to notice just how bloody the front of his outfit was and this caused him to frown.

Yes, he was aware there was also blood on his face, and that his eyeglass lenses had a few droplets of red across them. “Perhaps I should change before the ritual,” he concluded, turning around with his tail swishing back and forth.

You don’t recall feeling any pain as the last moments of your life were stolen away from you. Rather, a strange feeling of calm washed over you. In fact, you don’t remember feeling so peaceful your whole entire life.

But, now you were surrounded by darkness and felt as though you were floating. "Hm..." you tried moving your limbs, wiggling your fingers and toes and everything seemed to be in check. You glanced around the dark space, wondering if by chance you’d see anything.

You frowned and continued looking around, but nothing, not even a glimpse of light was seen. You sighed and wrapped your arms around yourself. Despite knowing you were surrounded by darkness, you closed your eyes as if to soothe yourself.

The floating sensation began to feel as if you were on a boat in the middle of the ocean, swaying back and forth because of the gentle waves. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but eventually, a strange sound made you open your eyes.

“Huh?” you blinked, once again looking around. The sound came again, only louder and there was a distinct difference in pitch that made you think it was coming from more than one source. Actually, it sounded like it was coming from a pair of animals.

“Is…are the hellhounds here?” you asked out loud despite nobody being there to answer you. Then you gasped upon seeing four sets of glowing red eyes in the distance. You blinked a few times, watching as these eyes grew closer and the bodies of the hellhounds slowly materialized.

You weren't sure if all of these creatures looked alike, but you swore they were the same ones that had chased you in the hallway of Yuuei and had prevented you from leaving when you tried stepping away from Tenya.

Now that you were…in whatever this place was, they seemed nicer. Of course, you were only assuming this due to the fact that their short stumpy tails were wagging. “Um…” they circled around you before barking once and walking away.

For a moment you were confused, then you realized that they wanted you to follow them. You hesitated before extending your leg out, the fact that there was no solid ground underneath you made your heart race with every step as you expected to suddenly fall.

But as you continued to follow the hellhounds, you noticed something shimmering in the darkness. As you got closer, you realized that the shimmering was coming from glowing walls which you instantly recognized from your dream.

A hard surface began to materialize underneath your feet and the darkness changed into some kind of room. You stumbled to a stop, realizing you were now standing at the end of a large aisle with pews on the left and right of it. Each one was filled with strange-looking creatures with horns similar to the ones Tenya had.

Looking down the walkway you noticed a shadowy figure dressed in a cloak and a plague doctor mask standing in the chancel area between the pews and the altar. Their appearance startled you but looking past them, you noticed something strange.

It appeared to be a large document floating behind the altar with two empty squares at the bottom of it. “Wher-” the sound of a cracked and broken organ interrupted you and echoed through the room. It sounded so horrible, like nails on a chalkboard and you instantly covered your ears.

Who would play something so awful? Maybe that was how music sounded in the underworld considering nobody else but you seemed to be affected by it. “Mm...” you frowned before feeling the hellhounds brush past you and down the walkway to the altar.

‘What are they doing?’ you wondered watching one of them walk to the left side of the altar while the other walked to the right of it. Both creatures looked around the room before sitting down. ‘That's just like back in the hallway,’ you recalled, but unlike then you weren't trying to escape, or were you?

You glanced over your shoulder, noticing that there was another glowing wall with a door-shaped hole through it that appeared to lead to another room. But two strange-looking demons were guarding it and each one held some sort of pitchfork.

‘I wonder if...’ you looked back at the walkway, wondering if anyone had even noticed you were here. You decided to take your chances and walked over to the two demons. “Um, can I just...” you took a step closer only to have one of them snap at you.

The language they were speaking sounded like nothing but gibberish. “Um...” you glanced to the side before taking another step forward. The demons pointed their pitchforks at you causing you to stumble back and eventually lose your balance altogether.

Your arms shot out despite knowing that there was nothing to grab onto, or so you thought. You gasped when someone took hold of your wrist while simultaneously pressing their opposite hand against your back, preventing you from falling and seriously injuring yourself.

You were in shock and hadn't realized that your eyes were shut until you heard his voice. “I am quite glad to see that you were escorted here accordingly, I have been waiting for you…Y/n,” instantly your eyes opened and you found yourself staring at Tenya's smiling face.

[ PART SIX ]

[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Your quiet days in castle Dimitrescu met their end the moment Cassandra took an interest in you.

You should have known. Perhaps you did know and just didn’t want to admit it.

The woman –vampire, mutant, what even are they— is a bipolar sadist.

One night she may be walking down the halls sending you a sexy wink under her hood as she passes you by, the next she could show up out of nowhere and cut you ‘hello’ with her sickle, scoop up the blood with her thumb to taste, then disappear again. The evening after that, she may not even give a damn about you, may not spare you a single fleeting glance, like even the notion you could be worth her time is laughable.

And it is, isn’t it.

Humans are nothing to them. Your significance is below that of a pet. You may as well be livestock. It doesn’t matter, though, so long as you continue to breathe and remain intact. They’re the two essential factors to escaping. All else is secondary.

It doesn’t matter how Cassandra views you.

You don’t even like her.

What is there to even be drawn to? She’s covered in blood more often than not. The scent of iron usually drowns out her perfume. She’s capricious and cruel and the living personification of an unsheathed knife. You prefer your routes safer. Playful, creative pretty girls that are good for you and most importantly, sane.

Whatever weird tricks your brain and hormones are playing where she stars –you hate it, what is wrong with you— they’re just delusions, you reason, born from her questionable flirting and your time in captivity. It’s just a really bothersome case of Stockholm Syndrome you’re developing. And it has to stop.

Another week passes. You don’t see her.

You are on another night shift when you hear the telltale buzzing of insects down the corridor. Hervoice reaches your ear afterwards;

“Ugh, Bela, you never complain about anything. It’s so annoying.” Two pairs of heels steadily tap towards you.

“I leave it to you and Dani to cover for me, since you complain about everything.” The quieter sister drawls. You can easily picture her roll her eyes as she says it.

“You know, you really should sound more thankful I came with you in this unearthly cold.”

“I gave you the option not to—”

“Just to have you rummage through that bookshop for what was definitely the most boring twenty minutes of my life.” Cassandra continues.

From the fleeting glance you steal at them, the entirety of her attention is on Bela. You don’t think she’ll notice you as you continue polishing the corridor’s decorations. It’s just another one of these nights where you don’t exist and you’re deeply glad for it. Not just for yourself, but also the other maids.

“I thought I was going to die of frostbite.” she growls, shaking the elder sister’s arm.

“Technically, you can’t.” Bela shakes hers back.

It would be… cute, if they were any normal family. But you are quick to remind yourself of what they really are. Devils in human form. Monsters that took you from your home and trapped you here, to clean after their mess, with the threat of death looming over your head every second.

Their steps pass you by. You can almost breathe normally again, when—

Cassandra stops.

“Not even going to tell me hello?” The hurt in her voice can’t be genuine, you tell yourself as you turn around to face her. She’s closer than you thought, enough for you to be able to make out the tiny melting snowflakes caught in her long lashes.

“Um—hello.” you say, awkwardly.

“Cassandra.” Bela lets out a soft sigh.

“Bye, Bela.” The brunette pointedly speaks over her shoulder.

And to your horror… “Just keep in mind what mother said about the maids.” the eldest sister leaves you alone with her.

Each further step until the blonde disappears from view fills you with dread. Cassandra has that spark in her eye that you’ve learned to not associate with anything good. She’s completely still until she’s sure the two of you won’t be overheard or interrupted.

Then, she moves.

Her hands all too easily shove you against the wall. It’s more startling than painful, you realize, when your back doesn’t protest much at the collision.

Cassandra maintains eye contact with you as she tugs at the fingers of her gloves. You cannot fathom why it looks that sexy, the way she pulls them off, whether it is intentional or not.

“Plaything.” she says. Another new nickname for you. Not that you ever expected her to care to know your name. “I’m terribly cold.” she doesn’t seem to be lying, though the soft pout that curves her mouth is surely for effect.

It’s a test and your wellbeing depends on it.

Only, you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. Ruling your nerves under control, you decide to start slow. “Shall I light the fireplace in your room, my lady?”

“Maybe I want something more… immediate.” she replies, raising her hand to your neck.

The second her freezing skin touches your flesh, you cannot help but flinch. It feels like a slightly softer block of ice. Cassandra’s eyes creak at the corners. Of course, the sadist is enjoying your torment. Slowly, her fingers move under the collar of your black button-up shirt, which only makes it worse. The cold spreads, a peculiar tingle at your stomach with it.

“Well?” she asks. You get the memo that just sitting back and letting her have her way isn’t going to work, this time. You call upon all the willpower you possess and act.

Carefully, your hands rise to meet her own. You aren’t looking at her in the eyes –you don’t think you could— as your fingers wrap around hers and bring them in front of you, close to your body, warmed from hours of work. Instead, your gaze locks on the golden jewel decorating the chocker at her throat, before falling down, to your point of contact.

It is not the first time you see her hands without gloves on, but it only now hits you just how dainty they look. Her nails, filed round, are dyed a darker shade of crimson, stark against the white of her skin. There isn’t a single blemish or uneven spot you can feel on her palm. It is a princess’ hand you seem to be holding, not a killer’s.

But appearances can be deceiving.

The very corner of Cassandra’s lip curls up, amused or pleased or both. She then reaches forward, at the lowest clasped button of your shirt… and frees it open. You’re sure you aren’t breathing. Two more buttons are released. Her fingers, at least now considerably warmer, splay against your stomach. Something inside you quivers like a flickering candlefire.

You don’t want her touch.

But a traitorous, weak part of you has already decided that it does.

“You work out?” it is merely a whisper between you. She presses a little closer, entirely unashamed to be feeling the contours of your middle up while you’re burning with embarrassment.

“…probably the days of working in the fields.” you say, voice low because it cannot be trusted any higher. She’s doing a little thing with her thumb over your skin that you desperately want to deny turns you on.

Thanks to her you’re now freezing and burning at the same time.

Cassandra just stays like that for a few more seconds.

“Draw me a hot bath.” she eventually orders and extracts herself from you as if she’s not remotely happy with her own decision.

-

-

You don’t really know how she likes her bath and she doesn’t tell you.

All you can do as you test the water on your hand is pray. Your mind isn’t really working right after the touching at the hallway, but your survival instincts are strong still. Strong enough to remind you that Cassandra likes to be treated like royalty above all, so bubbles are your best friend in this. The more, the merrier.

The Dimitrescu daughter does not ask if the bath is ready when she comes in. You aren’t used to her being so silent, so you turn to see if something is wrong –but immediately regret it when the heavy robe clinging to her body drops down. The only glimpse you catch is of the fabric pooling at her feet like a shadow.

Your eyes stay glued on the queen-sized bathtub, even when she approaches. They turn to the side as she enters it.

You want to ask if the water is fine, but you can’t find your voice. You lose even your train of thought when she lets out a small hiss as she sinks in, replaced by a moan once she’s completely settled back, neck tilted and eyes closed in bliss. The polite thing is to let her bathe in peace, so you move to do just that.

Cassandra has other plans.

Her hand shoots out of the tub to wrap around your wrist, inescapable as an iron shackle. Those intense yellowish eyes are on you again and they seem to be glowing under the dim lights.

“No.” she says. “Massage. Now.”

Ah, great. You think. You’ve spoiled her. But if giving Cassandra massages is what is going to keep your hands attached to your body, you won’t complain. It’s just that… you can’t really focus right now. None of your thoughts are right or remotely what they should be. You need time off from her, rather than touching her.

Thankfully, the moans are kept to a minimum and there is no teasing. She is utterly relaxed, only giving the occasional command for higher or lower. It does kind of kill you when at one point she whispers “Right there.” but you are able to move past it.

You leave fresh towels beside her when you’re finally allowed to leave. Back in her bedroom, you light the fireplace in a way that you make sure will last through the day, while she’ll be asleep. The plan is to leave before she returns, but she’s already there by the time you’re finished with the preparations.

And –you’re trapped.

Because, again, she’s changing and you have to look away to preserve your sanity and probably your eyes. “No peeping, now.” she calls over her shoulder. You know better than to dare.

You keep your hands busy arranging bottles and boxes at her vanity until she’s done. Cassandra does that ‘flashing’ thing where she’s on one side of the room one moment and right behind you the next. You only then notice a little insect flying back into her form. It was spying on you.

“You didn’t even look near me, huh.” she says it like ‘congratulations, you passed’, but there’s a bitter undertone of disappointment in her voice.

She’s only feeling down that you didn’t give her an excuse to slice at your face, you think. Then again, does she really need one?

“I wouldn’t, my lady.” you assure. “If I may be excused—”

“Did I say you can go?” she turns you around, none-too-gently, her hands on your biceps tight. You’re effectively pinned against her and the vanity, but you have much bigger problems to worry about, when you take in what she’s wearing.

Cassandra is clad in a flimsy nightrobe that leaves little to the imagination, the fabric nearly see-through. You can see the edges of her lacy underwear underneath it, how nicely it sits against her perfect curves. To make matters even worse, the robe ends at about mid-thigh and your eye catches the expanse of creamy skin on display.

Your brain nearly melts.

“I don’t know what it is about you, plaything, but you’re working up my appetite.” she confesses, pressing into you, pressing you harder into the furniture. You try to think of literally anything else than how well her thigh is slotted between your legs.

If you’re supposed to look away from her lidded eyes, however, you can’t. And if you’re not supposed to feel the echo of her nails on your arm all the way down to your center, you can’t. You are definitely not supposed to be so achingly curious about her bow-shaped lips. But you just can’t.

“You’re working me up.” she breathes, so close you can feel the ghost of her lower lip on yours.

And then –her mouth is on you and you forget how to breathe. Your eyes close and just feel, instead. If this is how you die, maybe it isn’t such a bad way to go. It’s been too long since you kissed anyone, seems like ages ago now, but you gradually remember how to move once you allow your muscles to unlock.

Not looking at her makes it easier. Her lips are balmy and smooth and slide so good on your own you can’t think at all, much less of what she’s capable of. You would have guessed her to be aggressive, but Cassandra is oddly hesitant, the only thing hard about her being her grip.

You’re not sure what you’re doing or how you get so bold, but your hands trail up to her waist and pull her in. The little hitch in her breath threatens to break you. It provides the perfect opening to part her lips with your tongue. As soon as it touches hers, she moans low in her throat and slowly drags her hips against your thigh.

Oh. God.

There’s a hollow ache in your stomach. You’re shamefully wet for her. The voice of reason is mute in your head, until you’re forced to break your liplock to breathe and it only then hits you what you’ve just done.

Cassandra’s lips are insistent on your jawline, on the vulnerable spot under your ear. Her open-mouthed kisses are just hard enough, at first, but then start to border on painful. Your heart skips a beat when you feel the press of teeth, yet she rips herself off of you before she bites down.

“Ugh. I’m… so thirsty.” she says it lightly, but her voice is hoarse and something about her body language gives you the impression she’s hurting. “You should leave. Fast.”

You almost make the mistake of reaching for her. Almost.

Cassandra turns away from the temptation of your veins.

For both your sakes –mostly for yours— you hurry out of her room and never stop to look back.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Fully Completely 5

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), violence, mutual irritation, harassment, blood, cutting, general hatred

This is dark!Loki x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Series Synopsis: There’s a new face in Birch and he’s come to haunt your door.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, and Little Bones

Note: Today, we have more Loki then tomorrow more Zemo and some Sam on Saturday. I might add in some Andy Barber after that but keep plucking away at this and Candy Coated. Anyway, I’ll see you in the comments and the asks.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 5: Hang me long out in the sun

💀💀💀

You sat against the wall, flinching every time you leaned too heavily on the radiator and burned your arm. You were certain Loki cranked the heat before he left as it was stolid and stifling in the large room. Sweat dripped down your body and mingled with the drying blood along your chest. You were uncomfortable but you didn’t want to get comfortable in this place.

You pulled on your wrist until your hand throbbed and the cuffs showed no sign of wear and the radiator didn’t budge. You stretched across the floor until you could reach the edge of the bookshelf and kicked until some books fell, hoping for some hidden pin or tool to pick the lock. There were only musty old books and dust.

You stood, tried to at least, bent over as you stretched your legs. You did awkward squats and extended your arms to your toes, one at least. You rolled your head on your neck so it cracked noisily and settled back against the wall. You were tired, exhausted, but too worked up to sleep.

It hit you all at once as the stench of smoke clung to your shirt and skin. Your shop was gone, your home, everything you worked for. It was another sick joke played on you by the town of Birch. 

Bucky was just another bully. He was like that boy in ninth grade who asked you to meet him at the park for a ‘date’ only to stand you up. You remembered the Monday after when he planted a stink bomb in your locker. The men around there were all the same. Everywhere if you were to judge by Loki.

You closed your eyes and thought of your dad. You thought he would’ve been proud to see everything you’d done; a shop of your own, a life where you didn’t have to worry. He said to you, through his dying lungs, that he knew you would be alright, that you could take care of yourself and Jerome. What about your brother then? Shouldn’t he take care of you too?

For the first time in a very long time, you wanted to cry. You kept your eyes shut to keep the tears locked in and slowly your mind eased. You sunk down as the warmth of the radiator embraced you, unbothered by the unyielding heat against your arm. You could hear yourself snore as you succumbed to your fatigue.

You were woken by the clatter of the door below. The old Victorian house echoed every noise and shuddered at every gale without. You lifted your head with a snort and sidled away from the radiator. Your arm was tender from the constant blaze of the radiator and you winced as you touched it. Fuck, it was burned.

You braced yourself as you listened to the slow ascent. You heard him behind the door and watched the knob turn. You sprawled out and slid a book closer with your foot. You got up and grabbed it quickly and stood in a hunch. You flung it at Loki as he entered but he quickly blocked the hardcover tome with the door.

He carefully peeked around the wood and stepped back in with a sigh. He shook his head as he crossed his arms and nodded as Korg appeared behind him. The bigger man placed the collection of shopping bags on the table and left with a dismissive sniff from his boss. The door closed and you were left to simmer alone with Loki.

“Such a warm welcome,” he strode to the table and tapped his fingertips on the wood, “and after I went to all the trouble of replacing your wardrobe. A pity all those wonderful pieces you had were lost.”

“I don’t want any of it,” you sneered, “leave me here, I don’t care.”

“Darling, while I find your resilience admirable it is also rather irksome,” he said, “and you will find that in the end, it will only make all this so much more difficult. You needn’t suffer anymore.”

“‘You needn’t suffer anymore,’” you mimicked him, “just listening to you talk is suffering.”

He turned his face down and clenched his jaw. He turned and reached into a bag. He pulled out a swath of black fabric that unfolded to an elegant dress with subtle black gems along the neckline like stars. You pushed your head back and stared at the ceiling.

“I can understand, a woman like you, men aren’t lining up to give you nice things,” he said, “I wouldn’t exactly call this giving, more… trading.”

“Oh, shut up,” you grumbled as you closed your eyes again, “you know, you woke me up so why don’t you keep it down?”

“I did have to guess at the sizes,” he ignored you brusquely, “but I’ve always had a keen eye.”

“You can shove your dresses and whatever else you wasted your money on up your--”

“Darling,” he interrupted, “I will not warn you again. That lip does provoke me.”

You jutted your jaw out and exhaled. You bent your legs and crossed your arms over your knees. You were too tired to argue with him. Hell, it only seemed to make you feel more helpless as you could not act on your anger. You hated that feeling. It remind you of that stupid teenage girl again; so gullible and weak.

“You cannot remain as you are,” he continued, “and I will not have a slobbish hick on my arm--”

“Jesus Christ, is your dick so small you can’t find another woman?” you hissed.

He was silent. You opened your eyes and hit your head on the wall as you were startled by how quick he moved. He pressed his knee to your chest and pinned you to the wall as he reached into his pocket and plucked out the silver key. He bent and unhooked the cuff from your wrist.

He caught your hand as you clawed at him and coughed as he pushed his knee harder against the cut between your tits. He tore you away from the wall suddenly and thrust you up to your feet. He twisted your arm behind you as he spun you and kicked your feet across the floor. You struggled with him but each time he bent your arm further up your back.

He pushed you onto the bed and straddled you as he angled you along the mattress. You flailed with your legs as he kept you trapped beneath his weight and released your arm. You reached out as he shifted above you and quickly snatched up your hands. He wrapped his long fingers around your wrists and snugly wound his tie in their place before he let go.

He backed off of you so that you laid across your stomach, your hands bound above your head to the bedpost. You rolled over as he marched away and returned just as quickly. He unfolded the razor with the mother-of-pearl handle and you dug your heels into the bed as you tried to free yourself from the silken tie.

He grabbed your leg and held it down. You brought your other knee up and he blocked it with his shoulder, “if you continue on like this, I might catch the artery.”

He held your leg down and pressed the edge of the blade to your thigh. You froze as he sliced into your skin and you grunted through your teeth. He traced a line down your leg and mirrored it on the other. He retreated and looked you over as you glanced down between your legs, the red lines dripping onto the blanket.

“What the fuck?” you yanked on the tie, “you’re fucking insane.”

“You haven’t any idea,” he held up the razor and admired the crimson along the silver, “but if you insist on this little dance, I should be inclined to go deeper.” He closed the razor and winked, “darling, you are looking rather rough,” he remarked, “but scars will not deter me.”

He spun and strode again to the bathroom. He returned and wiped his hands on a white towel and tossed it over the back of the chair. He sat and continued to sort through the bags.

“You think I’m afraid of you, you prick?” you snarled, “you think you’re going to win? When I get free, I’m going to take that blade and cut your dick--”

He stood and his hand formed a fist. He was atop you in a moment but before he could bring his hand to your throat, you bit down on the webbing between his thumb and index finger. He exclaimed and retracted his hand for just a second before he smacked you across the face. Your head snapped to the side and you held in a groan.

This time his hand stretched over your neck and he leaned over you. His hot breath whispered along your cheek and you shivered in disgust. 

“Oh, darling, this will be fun indeed,” he purred, “but I have no doubt that you will be prancing around in pretty little skirts for me before long,” he squeezed until you croaked, “you can even keep them on as I fuck you.”

“Go… to… hell,” you rasped.

He snickered and sat back on his heels with you straddled beneath him, “haven’t you realised? We’re already there.”

💀

You laid there for hours after Loki left you. Even though the mattress was preferable to the floor, you didn’t sleep. You stared at the ancient ceiling and cursed every inch of that place. 

Your thighs ached and that cut along your chest. Your arm was sore and raw each time it rubbed against your sleeve or the bed. You were more enraged than ever and you could hardly contain it and frustration had you kicking the mattress.

The windows were dark when he returned. He turned on the lamp beside you as the aroma of food tickled your stomach. You were desperately hungry but didn’t realise it until that moment. You salivated and gulped it down as he pulled up a chair and cradled the box in his lap.

“I’ve brought you dinner,” he said as he opened the cardboard container, “but… you have to use your manners, darling.”

“Get fucked,” you rolled onto your side so your back was to him.

“I can hear your stomach so let’s not pretend I believe you for a moment,” he taunted, “you will realise soon how weak you truly are.”

You didn’t say anything, nor did you move. You sneered at the wall as your arms strained above your head. He let out a long breath and then hummed in delight, “mmm, you know, this is not bad,” he commented, “your little diner has been the least disappointing aspect of this shithole.”

You gulped hungrily but refused to look back. He tapped his foot on the floor impatiently and sighed again.

“You would do yourself a favour if you did one for me,” he said, “say, if you accepted this generosity I might allow you another, perhaps a shower. Those cuts cannot remain unwashed.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you cut me,” you spat, “I don’t want anything from you and I definitely don’t want you. I’ll go live in the rubble, I don’t give a fuck.”

“You will,” he said as he stood and dragged the chair away, “but only you will pay for your stubbornness.”

💀

After another tussle, Loki relocated you once more to the radiator. He slept blissfully as you spent another restless night both sweating and shivering. When he woke, he offered you a bowl of instant oatmeal and you flipped it over. He tutted and went on with his day, leaving you again to stew in your wrath.

By the end of the day, your body rebelled with hunger and you accepted the bowl of soup he brought from The Chipped Saucer. You drank it from the paper cup but felt more rotten as it burned in your chest. He smirked as he watched you and you tossed the empty cup at him.

He scowled and you spent another night in cuffs. On the fourth day, he let you shower but kept you cuffed to the curtain bar for the ordeal. All modesty was gone as you were allowed only a plain white robe after and sat in the same spot, metal at your wrist, and wood at your back.

But you didn’t stop. You bit, you kicked, you hit, you swore, you screamed. A week passed and you wouldn’t accept it. You could see you were wearing on him and comforted yourself with the irritation in his sharp green eyes. You laughed at him outright and it stoked him further. He truly thought you’d never dealt with assholes before. You lived among them your whole life.

But that day when he came in, he was quiet though not sullen or angry. He was almost boasting as he still wore his new leather boots and dark parka. He tramped around and pulled out a mauve coloured dress, some satin and impractical undergarments, and a pair of heeled boots. He placed them calmly beside you but kept out of your reach.

He stepped back and shoved his hands in his pockets and grinned. You shook your head at him and scoffed. He waited as you simply yawned into your palm.

“Don’t you want to go see your brother?” he asked.

“He can rot with the rest of you,” you hissed.

“So heartless,” he slithered, “but I shall relay the message to him, as hard as it may be.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” you huffed.

“Well, darling, I don’t know if he should hear me or even if he could, that it would put him in a worse condition,” he mused.

“Worse condition?” you grimaced.

“Oh, I didn’t tell you, my apologies,” he preened, “why yes, it seems he did have an unfortunate incident. Some suspect it was an attempt on his own life but you know how gossip is in a town so small--”

“What--” you bit down on your lip, “is he… is he okay?”

“Why, he is rotting just as you wished, yes?” he asked coyly.

“Don’t be fucking stupid. Tell me he’s okay!” you tried to stand but were kept in a crouch by the cuffs.

“If you get dressed and behave, then you can see for yourself,” he said evenly, “or I will alone and hope that he survives his injuries… I wouldn’t expect the healthcare around here to be very adequate--”

“You fucking touch him--”

“What? You are wasting time, darling, and visiting hours will be over soon,” he warned.

You clenched your jaw and squinted at him. You swallowed your derision and blinked.

“Fine,” you said quietly, “I’ll… behave. Just take me to see him.”

“Good girl,” he came closer and knelt to grab your wrist, “but let me be clear, one misstep and you will never see him again. I should hate for him to die alone.”

“Just fucking undo me,” you snarled and his lips curved in triumph.

[scribblingfangirl]

WITH LOVE, THE GHOSTS | Julie and the Phantoms - Part One

not my gif!

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Author’s Note: Gah… I'm such a procrastinating butterfly. I should be writing my Billy Russo series which I'm so excited about, but I just want to be able to read it already instead of having to write first + I'm currently writing each and every chapter instead of the next one (struggles of a fanfiction writer - am I right?). So, what do I do instead? I flew from one of my obsessions to another and got inspired by this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial​ prompt. 

Anyways... This fic will be a little to late for some of you guys, but still: Merry Christmas everyone! And if you do not celebrate Christmas I still hope you have a wonderful day and a rest of the year filled with love and happiness. You did it, you fought through it. I’m sure you had your own pair of himbo ghosts taking care of you.

word count: ~ 1k

summary (and basically background info): Y/N is Julie's & Flynn's friend who doesn’t know about the ghosts (let’s just say she believes that they’re holograms). The boys become attached to Y/N due to her kindness and positivity and do everything in their (ghostly) powers to keep her days sunny and bright, especially in winter.  Or: Two times Y/N is oblivious to the boys 'paranormal' activities and the one time she notices it

prompt: Comfort in the Cold by @flashfictionfridayofficial​

warnings: english is not my first language, therefore, typos

| Part Two | Part Three |

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#1: Luke

Slowly and quietly you made your way down the stairs of the Molina household, leaving Julie's and Flynn's sleeping forms behind. Even though you had just watched multiple Christmas movies and probably eaten double your weight in popcorn, your stomach was still asking for more. As Julie knew about your habits of needing a midnight snack and since Ray repeatedly told you to make yourself at home you weren't feeling bad about stealing some small bits and pieces out of their fridge or cupboards.

Which is why you were straining your ears to hear any sounds that might indicate that you had woken up either Carlos or Ray, but you were only met with silence. Releasing the breath you were holding you hastily hopped down the last few steps down to the living room, grabbed the stair railing and used the momentum of your movement to swiftly swing yourself in the direction of the kitchen, freezing at the sight that greeted you.

A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2 a.m. and the continuous silence indicated that nobody except you was awake and around. Yet, as you hesitantly took a view steps towards the kitchen counter, pulling your blanket like a shield tighter around your body, there was a perfectly fine peanut-butter/jelly sandwich waiting for you, a smiley made out of Nutella painted onto it. Your favourite midnight snack.

A small note peaked out from under the plate and it took you some time to decipher the chicken scratch. Can't have our favourite groupie going to bed hungry! 

Smiling and shaking your head, thinking that either Julie or Flynn must have sneaked out of the room sometime earlier to make you this sandwich you happily bit into it. 

If you'd known that there was a brown-haired ghost with hazel eyes sitting opposite to you and watching you with a smile, the sandwich would have probably gotten stuck in your throat.

#2: Alex 

Doing multiple Christmas movie marathons would be fun they said. No need to worry they said. Only Christmas cheer and joy they said. Well… long story short, even fun movies can make you bawl like a baby! 

A few days after the midnight snack incident, which you completely forgot about, you were once again sitting on Julie's bed. With her and Flynn to your left and right, you had been watching different movies on her computer. Currently, however, you were only trying. Tears were blurring your vision and your sniffles were the only sounds reaching your ear. 

Pressing the plushy's soul that Flynn had won you at a fair out of its body and sobbing into it, you felt Julie shift beside you and lay her head in your lap and mumbling something while Flynn was searching for a handkerchief.

"Whose idea was it again to watch this movie?" you tried to ask, but your voice came out all thick and full of emotion, so you weren't sure if they understood or heard you at all.

What you didn't know was that the boys were watching the movie, and now mostly you, with big eyes.

"Remember the day when Julie was crying in the garage and then Flynn came in crying too? Remember how I said that two girls crying are worse than one girl crying? This… this is way worse!" Luke pointed exaggeratedly at every single one of you and moved quickly out of Flynn's way when she left the room to get a box of tissues. 

"Dude… they're not actually crying crying. It's just a really sad movie," Alex said and sighed quietly when he heard Reggie whisper, "Do you think that's what Willie meant when he said Caleb floods the place during movie night?"

"That's... no, okay." Shaking his head Alex moved towards the bed and sat carefully at Flynn's place to not alert you of the shift beside you. Then he gently took a paw of the plushy that you weren't currently pressing into an embrace and lifted it to wipe away your tears and free your sight. 

You sniffled, too confused and full of emotion to realize what just happened and that it couldn't possibly have been Julie or Flynn, and whispered a small, "Thank you". 

Alex smiled, proud of his action.

#3: Reggie

You didn't even bother to take off your shoes or wipe away the residual snow still sticking to your hair as you flopped yourself down onto your bed, groaning into your pillow. Everything was already grey, wet or at least soggy anyway. To say your day had been bad was an understatement.

It's the most wonderful time of the year With the kids jingle belling And everyone telling you be of good cheer It's the most wonderful time of the year

Confused you lifted your head and starred at your computer who apparently decided to become sentient and cheer you up.

It's the hap-happiest season of all With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings When friends come to call It's the hap-happiest season of all

The next thing that happened would forever be burned into your brain. Your favourite pen suddenly lifted itself up into the air and started to scribble down onto a nearby paper. Slowly and unsure you stood up and inched closer to your desk, but as soon as you were able to sneak a peak onto the paper the pen stopped and fell down.

Shaking your head you rubbed your eyes and turned back to your bed. "This is the weirdest lucid dream I ever had." The moment you flopped back down onto your bed you heard the familiar scratching of pen on paper again. Turning your head there it was again - the floating pen. "What?"

However, once again, as soon as you reached the desk the pen fell down, lifeless. “Alright... alright. I understand! Don’t worry, I won’t sneak a peak.”

"I am dreaming... right?" You weren't. Pinching yourself hurt, trying to breathe through a closed nose didn't work and your pointer finger would not move through the palm of your hand.

Shakily, yet weirdly motivated by the happy Christmas music still playing in the background, you picked up the note laying beside the now still pen. "Merry Christmas Y/N! Lots of love from Reggie, Alex and… Who?" 

"It told you, Luke… I should just have signed for us all."

"Shut it Reg, I know my handwriting sucks."