#fic: rfas

[lokisis]

"Because I can. Because I want to."

[torchsart]

figured i'd post this today ^^ birthday gift/commission for my good pal @lokisis featuring yuu & spamton from their fic, rise from the ashes, sunbird !!

[chizue-witchery]

⚜️. *. ⋆ Fandom: Mystic Messenger

⚜️. *. ⋆ Rating: Teens And Up Audiences

⚜️. *. ⋆ Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

⚜️. *. ⋆ Pairing/s: 707 | Choi Luciel/Main Character

⚜️. *. ⋆ Character/s: 707 | Choi Luciel, Main Character, RFA Members, Vanderwood, Choi Saeran

⚜️. *. ⋆ Summary: Seven's world disappears into binaries and codes for a long time until his bunker appears like it never disappeared. Not only that, but he also finds himself back on the day MC enters the chatroom. He tries to understand what it means.

⚜️. *. ⋆ Word Count: 2,711

⚜️. *. ⋆ Tags/Warnings: Reset Theory, 707 Route Spoilers, After Ending Spoilers, Secret Ending Spoilers, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst

⚜️. *. ⋆ Prompts/Squares Filled: Forgotten || @whumptober 2024 Day 2 alt prompt

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist

AO3

The first time it happened, Seven didn't understand what was happening.

He was happily eating his Honey Buddha Chips while he sat on the sofa when it happened.

The first thing that disappeared was his chips. It turned into binaries and codes while he was mid-bite. He thought it was odd, but he didn't think too much about it. He was going to grab another chip, but the chip bag disappeared, turning into binaries and codes.

He stood up from the couch and noticed how the furniture and his bunker itself were disappearing into binaries and codes. He panicked and avoided any of the binaries and codes going his way. He took out his phone and the only thing he could see was a giant red text that said 'RESET IN PROGRESS'

"What…?" he muttered out loud as he stared at the screen in disbelief. What did it mean by 'reset in progress'?

He received the answer just as everything but him disappeared into binaries and codes. He was left in a black-and-green space that was only filled with binaries and codes.

He walked and walked, but he was getting nowhere.

He tried looking for anything else other than binaries and codes, but there was nothing else. Even the phone in his hand disappeared into binary and codes.

He stayed lying on the ground, waiting for something to happen.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, but everything suddenly changed.

His room slowly appeared again, which took him by surprise. He stood up and watched as more of the bunker appeared as though it never disappeared, but it was off.

The state of the bunker didn't look the same before it disappeared.

He slowly sat up and watched as the phone appeared in his hands and dings. He immediately opened it to check the RFA application and his eyes widened when he saw new messages from MC.

The messages MC sent were the same as though it was her first time chatting with them. His brows furrowed in confusion as he stood up and looked over at the security cameras in Rika's apartment.

"What the—?" He doesn't understand what's happening.

MC looked the same when she first arrived at the apartment; a nervous wreck, pacing around the apartment and hesitant to touch anything.

The RFA members eventually asked for his help with the newest member in the chatroom, and what was he supposed to say?

He was the one who wanted to question them.

Why didn't they recognize who MC is? Why are they acting like this is their first time meeting her? Why are they talking about her as though they never bonded with her? She is the RFA Coordinator.

But he didn't ask about it in the chatroom. He replied to them, acting like he also didn't know who was the new member in their chatroom. He chatted endlessly while he went to check on his computer, hoping to check if any of his files had been saved.

None of the files that dated back eleven days ago were saved.

The date on the bottom right of his computer was on the same day MC arrived at the apartment and the Unknown hacker infiltrated the chatrooms.

How…?

Did he travel back in time? But that didn't explain the binaries and codes.

Was the past eleven days a vivid dream he had?

It had to be, right? There's no other explanation for this.

He smiled as he looked back at his phone, following the messages alongside and adding his own whenever he had something he wanted to say.

Once everyone left the chatroom, he leaned back in his chair as a sigh escaped his lips.

He doesn't understand what's happening…

The first time it happened, Seven didn't understand what was happening.

He was happily eating his Honey Buddha Chips while he sat on the sofa when it happened.

The first thing that disappeared was his chips. It turned into binaries and codes while he was mid-bite. He thought it was odd, but he didn't think too much about it. He was going to grab another chip, but the chip bag disappeared, turning into binaries and codes.

He stood up from the couch and noticed how the furniture and his bunker itself were disappearing into binaries and codes. He panicked and avoided any of the binaries and codes going his way. He took out his phone and the only thing he could see was a giant red text that said 'RESET IN PROGRESS'

"What…?" he muttered out loud as he stared at the screen in disbelief. What did it mean by 'reset in progress'?

He received the answer just as everything but him disappeared into binaries and codes. He was left in a black-and-green space that was only filled with binaries and codes.

He walked and walked, but he was getting nowhere.

He tried looking for anything else other than binaries and codes, but there was nothing else. Even the phone in his hand disappeared into binary and codes.

He stayed lying on the ground, waiting for something to happen.

He didn't know how long he stayed there, but everything suddenly changed.

His room slowly appeared again, which took him by surprise. He stood up and watched as more of the bunker appeared as though it never disappeared, but it was off.

The state of the bunker didn't look the same before it disappeared.

He slowly sat up and watched as the phone appeared in his hands and dings. He immediately opened it to check the RFA application and his eyes widened when he saw new messages from MC.

The messages MC sent were the same as though it was her first time chatting with them. His brows furrowed in confusion as he stood up and looked over at the security cameras in Rika's apartment.

"What the—?" He doesn't understand what's happening.

MC looked the same when she first arrived at the apartment; a nervous wreck, pacing around the apartment and hesitant to touch anything.

The RFA members eventually asked for his help with the newest member in the chatroom, and what was he supposed to say?

He was the one who wanted to question them.

Why didn't they recognize who MC is? Why are they acting like this is their first time meeting her? Why are they talking about her as though they never bonded with her? She is the RFA Coordinator.

But he didn't ask about it in the chatroom. He replied to them, acting like he also didn't know who was the new member in their chatroom. He chatted endlessly while he went to check on his computer, hoping to check if any of his files had been saved.

None of the files that dated back eleven days ago were saved.

The date on the bottom right of his computer was on the same day MC arrived at the apartment and the Unknown hacker infiltrated the chatrooms.

How…?

Did he travel back in time? But that didn't explain the binaries and codes.

Was the past eleven days a vivid dream he had?

It had to be, right? There's no other explanation for this.

He smiled as he looked back at his phone, following the messages alongside and adding his own whenever he had something he wanted to say.

Once everyone left the chatroom, he leaned back in his chair as a sigh escaped his lips.

He doesn't understand what's happening…

The sixteenth time it happened, Seven believed that he was stuck on a time loop.

His bunker reverted to what it looked like eleven days ago. All of his messy Honey Buddha Chips lying on the ground were gone. His clothes were free from the messy stains he didn't bother cleaning.

He checked his phone, and they were talking to MC like she's a stranger. Again.

Her replies remain the same, but there were also some odd ones in it, talking about a game. But he believes she's just joking around.

Other than that, there was nothing different about it.

Her first day remains mostly the same, almost like a pattern.

The start of a change began during the second day onwards. She would reply differently to each RFA member, except there were times when she favored one over the rest.

She would grow close to any of them until the other eventually grew feelings towards her by the fifth day.

Then something bad would always happen afterwards.

The security system messes up, Unknown comes to try to kidnap her, the love interest comes and saves her before it happens, drama involving their personal lives, and the RFA Party happens smoothly.

Sometimes he and someone else would go to this place called 'Mint Eye' to find out more about the 'Unknown' hacker that he could never seem to figure out their true identity.

There's a part of him that wonders if he already knew, but something is preventing him from remembering who the Hacker is.

The thirty-third time it happened, Seven was now being pursued by MC.

He wondered what the sudden change was.

She never went for him in the other time loops. She always went for the other RFA members—never him.

He thought she was just joking around, replying to her messages flirtatiously, and following along with her calls with entertainment.

His heart slowly warmed up to her charms, and he found himself unconsciously smiling whenever he watched as she left him messages right where the CCTV could see them.

He grew tired of work that he'd been constantly re-doing every time the time loops back to the beginning of her arrival. He is distracted by her and Vanderwood knows it. He came inside the bunker and demanded he get back to work, especially when he was backlogging everything.

He grew so careless that he had almost forgotten about the situation that always happened on the fifth day.

He saw his computer screen light up in codes while there was a red skull that was giving him a warning. The RFA server was hacked.

He was hacked.

He focused on getting the systems back together and tightening the security. While he was working on tightening the security system, he received several messages from the RFA members, asking him about the strange alarm they heard from the app. He tried to keep it as vague as possible until he was sure he had the systems under control.

And once he finally got the servers back to normal, he entered the chatroom and explained the situation. He smiled when MC kept the situation light, not letting her fears get to her. She continued to joke around despite the others being concerned.

He knew he should be over it by now, but he couldn't help but worry about her. He saw the way she paced around the apartment while nervously biting her fingers. He saw the way she stared at the emails, yet to be responded to, before closing the monitor and opening the RFA app. So he called her.

And it seemed like she knew he was worried about her because she was reassuring him of his concerns. She made him laugh, despite the danger she didn't know she was in. She trusted him.

It made his heart soar.

So he went on and built a little robot dog that could spit fire. He thought it was a good idea at first until he thought of the possible injuries she might sustain from it. He showed it to her in the chatroom and she loved it. She loved anything that he made, even though she didn't know all of them.

However, he had to leave to focus more on strengthening the security system in Rika's apartment and finding the hacker.

He called her a few hours later, finally finding a few minutes of free time on his already-packed schedule of things to work on. He worried about her, reassuring her to no end. He played along with her before ending the call with a laugh.

He wanted to meet her badly, but he couldn't.

Vanderwood was watching him, making sure he did his work. He complained to no end and Vanderwood told him he was getting attached.

And that made him freeze.

He wasn't allowed to get attached.

He ignored Vanderwood and instead watched the security monitors, his face flushing when she smiled at him widely with a handwritten message for him to take a break.

So cute, so cute… he thought as he groaned while covering his face. He was distracted by her.

His thoughts are swarming with her, her, her.

He wanted to meet her in person.

He threw those thoughts away, shaking his head.

He can't have romantic feelings towards her.

By the seventh day and onwards, he stayed inside Rika's apartment, along with MC. He tried fixing the security system while being cold towards her.

He didn't want to, but he had already put her life in danger.

Not to mention, he found out the Unknown hacker was his brother.

It made him question what happened to Saeran after he left. He grew suspicious and untrustworthy of V and wondered if he knew about it the entire time.

He tried avoiding talking to MC. He told her that he acts differently in real life compared to his goofy messages in the chatroom. However, she never gave up on him.

No matter how stubborn he was, she never gave up.

So, he hesitated to open his heart towards her. It took a while before he began to open up his past to her, showing her the USB files she tried to access and it was all images of his brother, Saeran.

He gave her the robot cat he destroyed, taking extra care to make sure the robot cat was in a perfect state.

He told her to wait for him as he held her hands and she accepted it.

He goes against V's orders and opens the drawers to see secret documents. He finds an earlier version of the logo found in the emails the RFA members received, as well as blueprints for the building where the emails were sourced.

He stopped the car once they arrived at the building. He and MC went inside and looked around the room. They wandered until they found the computer room. He went on and hacked the monitors, trying to get as much information about 'Mint Eye', but his brother arrived.

He tried convincing Saeran about the truth of what happened, but he didn't believe him. MC showed the contents of the floppy disks. He thought Saeran would finally understand him, but he didn't.

His brother broke down and left in such a hurry.

He and MC left the room to chase after him, but all they saw was V.

V admitted that he saw Vanderwood take Saeran away.

V asked for forgiveness.

He did not accept.

He no longer trusted V.

However, his new mission is to save Saeran.

He told MC she could leave, but she stayed with him.

They didn't join the RFA party.

He held MC's hands as he told her to refer to him by his real name from now on.

She smiled at him. Instead of responding, she kisses him instead.

He held MC close to his chest as they both laid on the bed.

He whispered to her of his fears, and his desire to be with her forever.

He didn't know whether he would survive or not.

He asks if he can embrace her, and she accepts.

He lowered his head so he could properly look at her. She looked back at him, her eyes warm and full of love.

He closes his eyes as his lips make contact with hers.

He finally saved Saeran.

He finally got his brother back—

He was so overjoyed he couldn't stop smiling.

He spun MC around, laughter bubbling in his throat as he looked at her with so much love and affection.

It would take a lot of rehabilitation and therapy for Saeran to recover from his experience in the Mint Eye, and he knows it very well.

He won't leave him.

Never again.

His world is back to binaries and codes when he opens his eyes.

Oh.

Oh.

… right—

He had forgotten about it, too elated to be with MC and reuniting with his brother again.

"Hah…" he chuckled as tears ran down his face. He didn't bother wiping them away, relieved no one would see him in this state.

And yet, it also feels lonely.

Why did he even—

He told himself he wasn't supposed to fall in love with MC, but he couldn't help it. Her charm and personality drew him closer to her. His heart soared whenever she flirted back.

He loved listening to her voice whenever they were on a call.

He loved how she made him laugh.

He loved watching her on the monitor and how she would leave him messages through it or make funny faces.

He wanted her to be his forever.

And she was.

And then she wasn't anymore.

The one hundred and second time it happened, Seven cried.

He finally understands what's happening.

He was not stuck on a time loop.

He was stuck in a game.

He is nothing but a fictional character that exists for the player to fall in love with.

It explains why MC's messages keep changing. It explains why no one remembers what happens.

It explains why MC acts different towards him whenever it was his turn to be pursued. It hurts every time she does.

However, it doesn't explain why he's the only one who remembers everything. He asked the other RFA members about it, but they all replied, not understanding what he meant by it.

He was still unsure whether he was right about it or not, so he joked about it during the chatrooms. Sometimes MC would reply ominously, but there were a few times she didn't know what he was talking about.

He had doubts whenever she didn't know what he meant by it, but the more frequent the odd replies were, the more he believed his theory to be true.

And he doesn't know what to do with this information.

It's world-changing to him.

Seven doesn't know how many times MC has reset the game.

He has grown tired of it.

He is used to MC's patterns.

He knows what happens next. He knows what happens by the end of the eleventh day.

However, the endings change.

The normal ending, the good ending, and the bad ending.

He never liked the bad endings, but those seem to happen often. He doesn't understand why the player likes the bad endings, sometimes a little more than the good endings.

But that didn't matter.

His world repeats over and over again.

And he is the only one who remembers.

He lives his life in a lie.

His thoughts, dialogue—basically everything about him is all because of binaries and codes.

Or maybe he is an error.

707.

A memory that can't be freed or removed.

Was it a coincidence he was named after the 707 error or did the developers make him remember every single route the player takes to make his character more interesting?

He demands answers from them, but he knows he'll never be able to reach far enough for their coding to not affect his decisions and thinking.

He has no control over his own life.

He even begins to question whether what he's thinking right now is his own thoughts or another thing coded on him.

He has grown used to the black and green walls covered in binaries and codes as he awaited for the player to play the game.

His world shifts into color as his bunker appears.

His phone dings and he sighs, putting on a smile as he opens the RFA chatroom to meet the player again.

A/N: i have not played the game for over 3-4 years so i apologize if it's a little inaccurate. i used my pre-existing knowledge of mystic messenger lore and research to make sure i got some of it right.

i genuinely thought i would fail again at writing at least one mystic messenger fanfic every year but luckily, the alt prompt stopped it from happening.

[nonmurdery]

MORONIC EYES

suit saeran + reader | oneshot

summary: reader deals with the aftermath of saeran’s bad ending 2.

author’s note: hello! this is my first time posting my writing on tumblr. i recently got back into mystic messenger thanks to @cvhenia and fell hopelessly back in love with these pixel arrangements. i’m already thinking of writing a pt.2 for this.

trigger warnings: verbal abuse, starvation, suicidal thoughts

word count: 1,482

��⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

This is Reader’s doing. Isn’t it? At least, that’s what Saeran’s been telling them for the past forty-nine days. Forty-nine days. That's how long he has spent delighting in their misery. It's been fifty-eight days since their arrival to Mint Eye, nearly two months.

“…Ugh. I suppose you’ve earned something to eat, moron.” He sauntered over to the single pedestal table in the middle of their room. Along with the black vase with its assortment of flowers, there was a platter of sandwiches. Two pale pink wingback chairs flanked the table, one with a decorative square pillow. Reader has grown weary of the shade; that same pink occupied their blanket and pillowcases. They bit back any comments about how it sickened them—it made sense that Saeran would change their ivory walls and curtains to pink in order to torment them further.

They were sitting on their knees, on the mattress where they spent most of their days. Reader toyed with the hem of their dress, the same dress Saeran kept them in. Once, they might’ve thought the flower patterns and vine embroidery across the blackness of the smooth fabric was beautiful. Now, the dress was a tragedy.

At least Saeran dressed in the same well-tailored suit that hugged his body. Reader redirected their attention to the rain lashing the windows. They imagined hanging out in it with old friends. A ghost of a smile graced their lips imagining the scene: Yoosung slipping in a puddle and dragging Saeyoung down with him, Jaehee suppressing laughter, Zen’s mocking smirk, and Jumin hiding away under an umbrella.

It's difficult to picture what they're doing right now. Hopefully not locked away in a tower like the Brothers Grimm’s Rapunzel with her long, gold tresses.

They imagined Zen to be the one clad in prince’s attire and chanting: “Reader, Reader, let down your hair!” from below. He'd make a great fairy tale prince. They pictured him beaming at their comparison.

With the rain, Reader’s mind became flooded with thoughts of their kind-hearted Ray. They'd kiss him as rain beat down on the two. Reader regretted not kissing them harder in the secluded garden. Their daydreams went up in smoke with the loud click of Saeran's tongue.

“Are you deaf? Or do you just lack the brain cells to understand me?” Saeran's mouth slid into a lopsided grin.

Reader's eyes roved freely over his figure. He lifted a brow and moved into one of the seats, his movements perfectly feline. Saeran picked up one of the little finger sandwiches off its silver platter and bit into it, chewing slowly. “See? it’s not poisonous.” Not that I'd waste poison on you, he failed to add.

They’ve trusted him before, only to get their gifts ripped from them. Reader didn’t remember when they started thinking of food as a gift … Maybe when it became a rare delicacy. Saeran’s cruelty seemingly knew no bounds. They only wondered when he'd get a partner to spite them. They’ve lost a dangerous amount of weight in their time at mint eye. Reader has started to lose other things, too.

Small things, mostly. Such as autonomy, freedom, access to daily showers, and the RFA. But that doesn’t mean they haven’t lost great things—take afternoon walks and cold lemonade in the summertime for example.

“Ask: ‘Saeran, may I please eat lunch with you?’”

When they went to speak, their tongue felt leaden. Despite this they asked: “Saeran, may I please eat lunch with you?”

Reader’s voice cracked right in the middle of their sentence.

That fiendish smile on his moon-white face grew. “You may, Reader.” He watched as they reluctantly left their spot on the mattress and sat in the other chair.

Saeran’s minty blue eyes filled with amusement. He propped his cheek with a spare hand and his snow-white hair shifted, the frosted pink edges falling over one eye. It was difficult to imagine him with crimson hair and honey-colored eyes like his twin, Saeyoung. They gingerly reached for one of the small sandwiches and picked it up. Seconds later, they wolfed down the entire thing, going in for seconds.

“You’re such a hog.” He made a face. “I’d kill you if you weren’t fun to break.”

“I wish you'd do it. Get it over with.” Their eyes spoke what their lips refused to.

He can pretend to have power all he wants; Reader knows the truth. Saeran is equally weak, if not weaker. He’s under Savior’s control, just like everyone else in Mint Eye. That’s what made it difficult to completely hate him. Reader justified his wrongdoings because of his trauma. Their bodies are bony, skeletal, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. The main difference between the two of them was the smell. Saeran smelled like his floral lotions while Reader’s scent consisted of sour breath and sweat.

Saeran saw the flickering embers within their eyes, the remaining fight from their lost inferno. He wanted them to snap and say something without his permission. Reader is only a shell of their former being. They’ve lost nearly all hope of being rescued by the RFA. If Saeran sought further control, he’d need to reevaluate his plan. His harsh words elicited no more tears from the faucet in their eyes.

Did that mean their affection for Ray has gone down the drain so soon? They stopped fighting for him. Saeran expected them to burn brighter. To Reader’s satisfaction, he found himself painfully disappointed in them.

“Dull as dishwater,” he mumbled under his breath.

It's not like they're silent without reason. Saeran commanded them to only say “yes” to him. Yet there isn't anything worth talking about anyway. They lowered their eyelids, watching the sandwiches as if they'd grow legs and crawl off the platter.

“I’ll be back.” Saeran’s bottom lip caught between his teeth on his way out of the room.

They let loose a sigh of relief when the door clicked behind him. Reader placed a hand over their chest in an attempt to calm their thundering heart. They gobbled up the rest of the sandwiches, not sparing a crumb. If they kept this up, Saeran’s ought to get bored of them.

“Now,” Reader moved to the door when he surely left, twisting the knob.

When it didn’t open, they tried opening up the windows. This became something of a daily routine. Reader held a sliver of confidence that he’d forget to lock them in. Everybody makes mistakes. They've made a whopping amount of them. Enough to completely change their life in a number of days.

If only there was a reset button for this.

Even with one, they didn't trust themselves enough to not fall in love with Ray again and do this over again. Love had proven itself to be a destructive force.

“Oh, come on … There must be something.” They chewed on one of their jagged fingernails, contemplating their next decision.

Their attention turned to the vase on the table. Angrily, they scooped it up in their frail arms. Either it's heavier than it looks, or Reader has lost their strength. They walked over the light gray rug that sprawled across the floor and hurled the vase at their window.

Except they missed their shot. The vase slipped from their hands and crushed a foot beneath it. Tears rushed to their eyes from the pain as they let out a screech in response. Reader grabbed their foot and watched as water and flowers poured from the intact vase.

Why hadn't they thought to drink the water? Plant fertilizers are mildly poisonous, but it's better than nothing at all. Burning tears trailed down their cheeks. They took a sharp breath inward and threw themselves on the bed, landing on their back with their legs dangling off the side.

They sniveled as the tears gathered in their ears. Watching the brown chandelier overhead had also become a part of their daily routine. It reminded them of the parties they used to host. Reader interlaced their fingers and settled them on their belly.

Unknowingly, they melted into the void. A dreamless sleep with nothing beyond darkness. They've compared rest like this to death itself. It made death seem … Easy. Easier. Relaxing. Worth it; Saeran couldn't bathe in their sorrow if they were dead.

He never specified when he'd be back. But Reader saw no more of him for the night. Maybe he did show up with dinner for them, only leaving upon the discovery of their rest. No, that wasn't like him.

When their moronic eyes opened, they took in the expanse of their bedroom. Their temples throbbed from another migraine. Sunlight seeped in through the windows, casting a soft glow on the planes of Reader's face. How long had they slept? Was it the next day or a catnap later? Only one thing was for certain—

They were alive.

[password-door-lock]

Bleach

Unknown x Reader; 6k words; fluff and angst Rating: Teen and up audiences

“Are you bleaching your hair?” You materialize in the bathroom doorway, apparently unable to leave him alone for any meaningful amount of time. You're like a little lost puppy, trailing behind him as he goes about his day with no regard for the minutiae of any given situation. When you're lucky, Unknown finds this desperate behavior vaguely cute. When you're unlucky, he's overwhelmed by it, not to mention annoyed. Right now… you’ve caught him when he’s too busy to formulate any specific set of feelings about your behavior. Maybe that means you’re lucky, then, after all. “What does it look like?” He demands, stirring the solution vigorously with the brush provided in the package. OR: You help Unknown bleach his hair.

Read it on AO3!

[vampirevatican]

reader showing jumin this song. he usually sees you listening to music with earphones and sometimes playing it from your phone or a really nice bluetooth speaker he got you. always admiring and finding it cute whenever he startled you when he'd return home early. then there's one night drive, back from some event he wanted to bring you to regarding the company. he asks what you're listening to and it just so happened you ended up making a playlist specifically about him and you share earbuds. his arm wrapped around your waist, he kisses your forehead and says, "you are my symphony." as you watch the city scape go by.

[introverted-scribblings]

The RFA w/ MC who loves sewing

What? A post? From me? You're crazy, there's no way that's happening.

I'm trying to get back into writing for this blog and recently started replaying Mystic Messenger because I want poor sleep 💕 Basically I'm letting my fixation fuel my writing because... the sentence ends there.

Enjoy these headcanons! I thought they turned out really cute~

(FYI: I used fem!MC for these headcanons; girlfriend/wife/etc.)

Yoosung:

He found out in the RFA chatroom when the two of you were talking about games and hobbies.

Yoosung had been excitedly telling you about the armor set he had gotten in his latest LOLOL binge, sending a picture and saying how he wishes he could wear cool armor in real life.

“I can make it for you”

“MC… what???”

And this is where he discovered your passion for sewing and your side-hobby of cosplay

He had a little experience with sewing, he could sew on a button and fix small tears thanks to his high school “home ec” classes, but you’re talking about making entire outfits and costumes from scratch.

THAT’S. SO. COOL.

He is amazed and thoroughly impressed by your talents, even moreso after you send some pictures of your completed works.

It’s amazing that you can make your own clothes, but he’s definitely super impressed with your cosplays. They’re insanely detailed, matching perfectly with the source material. He often says that your cosplays look better than the source material. They’re true works of art in his eyes.

Praises your talents nonstop.

Talks about it all the time to everyone. Every one of his friends knows how skilled his girlfriend is. And the other RFA members know tenfold.

After hearing you talk about your projects, Yoosung decided to join the sewing club at school in the hopes that he could help you with your amazing work! (Not that you need help, he really just wants to participate in something you love)

What ends up happening though is him sitting beside you at the sewing machine and getting lost in your working rhythm. (“Yoosung, are you paying attention? I thought you wanted me to give you tips?” “S-sorry, MC!! You’re just… really good at this… Like magic!”)

There’s no way he’ll be able to catch up with your skill anytime soon, so you compromise with him. You’ll make the costumes, but he has to cosplay with you~

(I have a short fic continuation of this! You can read it here)

Zen:

He found out just before one of his performances.

The costume he was wearing was a bit snug but worked fine in all the dress rehearsals, so he didn’t think much of it at the time.

You were backstage with him before opening night, ready to tell him to break a leg and give the audience a show to remember, when you saw the rip in his jacket.

It was a seam rip behind his left shoulder. Not the worst, but clearly noticeable.

Curtain was in ten minutes.

“Hyun, take off your costume.”

“Jagyia, I know I’m irresistible, but can you wait until after the show?”

“Not like that!!!” >////<

You pulled a flat black case from your purse and opened it, revealing a small sewing kit. You had everything you needed for a sewing emergency. Pins, buttons, snaps, scissors, an assortment of colored thread. And needles, of course.

You fixed the rip and strengthened the seam with four minutes to spare.

Zen asks you about it after the show (which went perfectly, thanks to you) and you explain your sewing hobby to him. Mentioning that you always have your little sewing kit with you for emergencies like tonight.

You show him pictures of the projects you’ve made and entire outfits you’ve designed and created from scratch. A good chunk of your wardrobe are pieces you’ve made yourself.

Of course he supports you! He’s so impressed and is constantly gushing about how talented you are in the chatroom.

Though nothing could prepare him for the moment you said you wanted to make something for him. Looking up at him with big hopeful eyes as you asked if he’d let you design him an outfit. His heart nearly burst.

You poured hours of time and effort into these pieces for him, determined to make this your best project yet. Your magnum opus. (You also sent concept sketches and fabric swatches to Jaehee for her “professional fan opinion”)

When he put it on for the first time, he was speechless. Everything fit perfectly, there wasn’t a part of the outfit that was uncomfortable in the slightest.

And he may be a bit of a narcissist, but he swore that the clothes you crafted made him more handsome than he thought possible. He looked good but never this good.

Your heart was filled with sunshine and warmth when he decided to wear it to an interview.

“My outfit? It’s custom-made. My girlfriend is a very talented seamstress and this was a gift from her~”

Jaehee:

She found out when she called you to complain about the c-fur she was still cleaning up around her apartment.

“Ugh, I’m sorry, Jaehee. I know how bad that can get. I took care of my friend’s cat for a weekend once and I spent an entire month cleaning fur off all my fabric.”

Your fabric?? “What fabric, MC?”

The fabric for your projects of course! Once she got you started, you happily explained your passion to her and how you’ve been making your own clothes for a while now too.

She is also very impressed with your skill and also impressed with how handy it is. You very generously offered to mend her favorite blazer when one of the seams split. You also fixed the two loose buttons you found.

When you two open up the cafe together, you made Jaehee a custom apron to wear. Even going so far as to embroider her name on it along with some decorative coffee beans.

It’s her favorite apron and the one she wears the most while working. (until it has to be cleaned, but then it’s right back in the cafe for her to use)

It gets a lot of compliments too and you’ve actually had a few customers commission you from Jaehee’s (unintentional) promoting.

You since made more clothes for her, even an entire sundress similar to one she had been looking at while you both were out shopping. (You didn’t think the one sold was her color, so you made one yourself that would highlight her best~)

The only issue is the thread and fabric scraps that tend to scatter just as bad as the c-fur… but hey, at lease the end result is more useful! And she can always count on you to tidy your mess when you’re finished~

Jumin:

You mentioned it offhand. Simply mentioning the stitching quality on one of his ties and how you hadn’t made a tie before.

He followed up asking why you would want to make a tie, to which you explained that you often made your own clothes but would love to give yourself a little challenge with something you hadn’t done before.

Initially, he didn’t quite understand. He could easily have any outfit you desired tailored specifically for you, there wasn’t the need to go through all the hassle of making it.

You had to explain that it was your hobby. That, while time consuming and occasionally tedious, you truly enjoyed making your own clothes, and showed him some examples from your closet.

“I’m quite impressed, MC. I’ve only seen this kind of quality come out of trained professionals.”

“I’ll take that compliment. Thank you, love~”

He gives you an entire studio for your projects. While you insist that he doesn’t need to give you so many elaborate gifts, you have to admit that the space is very nice. Much better than working in cramped conditions or on the floor.

While Jumin doesn’t have an interest in joining your craftiness, your husband is more than willing to encourage your hobby monetarily with machine repairs and high quality materials.

Whatever you want, you can have. You’re his darling wife after all.

He even gifted you an antique sewing machine, a vintage 1902 Singer Treadle. You don’t “use” it, but you learned how to just for fun. It’s a lovely decoration of your hobby at the least.

And, yes, you did make a tie for him. Two actually, but you only gave him the second one, insisting that the first was practice only.

It quickly becomes his favorite and he always wears it to important meetings. It’s like having you right there with him for support.

It also becomes quite the talking piece at one of the RFA parties when a member of the Cultured Citizens asks about the brand and price.

“This tie was handmade by my wife and is certainly priceless.”

707:

He already knew because of course he did.

He would often send you (jokingly) ridiculous “orders” with impossible time frames, including:

An iridescent “Statue of Liberty” costume - 3 days

Twenty-seven onesies for ducks - 4 days

A prom dress made of pasta - 3 days

An overnight yeti costume

The two of you would banter about it in the chatroom until someone told you guys to knock it off, it was never not fun.

Whenever you finished a new piece or outfit for yourself, you would try it on and call him while standing in front of the camera in the apartment, asking for his opinion.

The cat-themed overall skirt was the one that broke him. You were just so cute with all the decorated pockets~! And the buttons looked like little cats too! You’re just too precious~

After the dust of the first party settled and Saeyoung had his brother back, you took it upon yourself to make Saeran some new clothes. He was going to be your brother-in-law, after all, you wanted to make him feel welcome.

Of course, it then turned into making both boys some new clothes as you kept thinking of new ideas. Not that you minded, this was your passion after all.

I think Saeyoung would also give you your own room/studio in the bunker. A place where you could spread out without worry. (Vanderwood was just grateful he didn’t have to keep cleaning up thread)

Saeyoung was also happy to help with any repairs your sewing machine needed, or he’d just make you a new one… or three… with some—interesting—added features.

“Saeyoung, dear, I don’t think my machine needs a Ph.D Pepper dispenser.”

“But what if my honey gets thirsty while she works?!”

“...But won’t the sewing shake up all the carbonation? It would explode on my pretty clothes T^T”

“OMG! I’m so sorry!! I’ll take it out right away!!”

This kind of conversation happens regularly.

Eventually, there was one top-secret project that you were working on… one that you made Saeyoung swear not to snoop through. Even going so far as to have Saeran keep an eye out to make sure his brother stayed true to his word. (He did but he whined about it)

The project took a long time and you had to have Saeran help you order the materials in secret.

Saeyoung didn’t like being kept in the dark, it made him uneasy. You assured him it was okay and that you just didn’t want the surprise to be ruined.

He was still uneasy, but he trusted you.

And it was all worth it in the end…

When you walked down the aisle in your handmade wedding dress, glittering and shining like stars in the night sky you both loved so much.

[natasha-in-space]

Take Your Breath Away

Pairing: Saeyoung/afab!reader;

Notes: !Minors do not interact! This one contains smut! Set in RAE timeline, with you getting together with Saeyoung after RAE takes place. Lots and LOTS of pet names. This was a gift fic to a friend, so keep that in mind while reading, as the dynamic between you and Saeyoung was written in a very deliberate way <3

Summary: No birthday is exactly the same, no matter how many years go by in your shared life with Saeyoung. Catching a private moment with your husband can be a bit difficult when there's a whole group of dear friends eager to celebrate yet another year of his life. Which is why a little private celebration was in order.

AO3 link - 8k words (what);

Credit: Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Despite your hushed footsteps against the smooth, wooden floors of your apartment, you knew Saeyoung probably heard you already. Not that you minded. While sneaking up on him was fun, you had nothing to hide from him anymore. The surprise was ready and waiting. And this was just the ideal opportunity to finally bring your plans to reality.

His birthday was finally today, the day you had been anticipating for weeks now. Though, to prevent him from being overwhelmed with too much attention, you kept your excitement mostly to yourself up until now. From what you could observe of him over the years, Saeyoung was still only getting used to actually celebrating his birthday properly, so you naturally assumed that doing something big and loud wouldn't be something he'd be very happy with. And your wish was for him to spend his birthday with a smile on his face. This year around, his birthday just happened to be on your day off work as well, so you two could spend the entire day together for the first time in a long time.

Given that the rest of the day was set aside for Saeran and the RFA, you made the natural decision to arrange a private surprise that was only for you and him alone. Plus, Saeran seemed to approve of this idea, even creating a small gift for his brother that he entrusted to you to give him. Whether it was due to bashfulness or something else entirely.

It wasn't unusual for you both to be fully awake at midnight. Night was a special time for you, and not just because of the stars now sprinkled across the inky black void of the sky above, twinkling dimly against the bright lights of the city bellow. It was a time when the world slowed down, grew quiet, peaceful. A perfect time for meaningful conversations and sweet moments hidden away under the comforting solitude the night would bring with it. Many of the precious memories you now cherished dearly were made during the night. You supposed that was only natural, considering you both just happened to be night owls through and through, as opposed to Saeran and his beloved, who were more like a pair of early birds.

It was just you and Saeyoung in a cozy space you now called your home, no one to disturb you, and no one to steal the attention back onto themselves. The apartment was a perfect mix of peace and quiet, a welcome reprieve from all the hustle and bustle of the day prior in preparation for the twins' birthday party tomorrow. The living room of your apartment was already decorated for the celebration ahead, with balloons scattered about and a small collection of gifts from you, Saeran, Saeyoung, and Saeran's  partner already waiting on the shelves to be opened.

So, you take your chance while you still can.

"...Happy birthday, love," you whispered at last as you leaned over the back of the couch with cake in your hands, a small smile playing on your lips in anticipation of the upcoming reaction from your husband.

Upon seeing him looking up at you, you gave him a small giggle, knowing that his evident expression of surprise was mostly due to the small cake you had in your hands. Saeran made it himself only a day ago, but you did provide some assistance of your own. You both made sure that Saeyoung was kept in the dark about it up until today, though. When Saeran sought your advice on what gift to give to his big brother, you both decided that a present made by hand would be the best starting point, though it wasn't anything extravagant or expensive.

But Saeyoung had more than enough money for all three of you, after all.

As you placed the small cake on the coffee table, Saeyoung blinked up at you and swiftly glanced back at the clock hanging by the front door, squinting rather adorably. Without a doubt, it was just past midnight. June 11th. Today was the day of his birthday. And the day he was now officially 29 years of age.

Almost hitting his 30's.

"...Oh," Saeyoung blurted out, sounding slightly embarrassed, and immediately you sensed a slight feeling of guilt rising within him as he looks down at his lap for a split second, almost as if he wasn't sure what to say or how to react to your quiet congratulation. Feeling melancholic on this day, particularly at night, wasn't something new to him. Regardless, he quickly shook it off, smiled up at you, and swiftly wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you down onto his lap with practiced ease. "You didn't have to-"

"Oh hush," following his lead, you settled on his lap, giving him a small, affectionate smile. "It's your birthday. I want to treat you. Even if it's something small and intimate. I figured tomorrow will be mostly about Saeran and RFA, knowing you. So I wanted to make a little something just about you."

Saeyoung was only able to produce a small 'urgh' sound and shake his head in amusement, but you just laughed and winked at him cheekily. The way you were able to read him like an open book could be borderline unnerving to him at times. But hey, occasionally, he needed to be called out. And you were always eager to do just that, keeping him in check when needed.

"Touché... You know me way too well sometimes. It's unfair," he whined with a playful pout, wrapping his arms more securely around you and leaning back against the couch with a long sigh. Giving your cheek a small kiss, he looked back down at the small cake again, now resting nearby on the coffee table. "You made the cake yourself?"

"Nope! Saeran did. I know you're not as big on sweets as he is, but giving you another box of Dr Pepper seemed kind of ridiculous. Sometimes some good old sugar is not so bad, I think. Saeran worked hard on this for you," you chirped, perking up a bit after hearing about the cake. As you glanced between the dessert and Saeyoung, you smiled and tried your best to observe his reaction.

"Saeran...?"

Saeyoung's eyes widened as he stared down at the cake, a whole cocktail of various emotions filling his gaze behind his thick glasses. That's a reaction you well enough expected of him, just letting him take his time before responding. Even after all these years, he was still adjusting to not being the one who took care of Saeran in their relationship. Saeyoung would often find himself feeling choked up and overwhelmed with even the slightest hint of affection from his younger twin. Even so, he was improving year by year. And you could not be prouder of him.

Considering the time and ingredients that Saeran invested in this little project of his, you were very proud of what he achieved after hours of tireless crafting. Compared to your brother-in-law, baking was not your strong suit. But buying a cake was just not the right choice for you either. So, you delegated that task to Saeran, while you observed him from the side and acted as his inexperienced baking assistant.

The cake was not particularly large or grandiose. Just a simple homemade cake that was medium-sized and decorated with cherries and delicate flowers made of frosting. Though you were certain that there was more hidden meaning involved here than you were aware of. Saeyoung was the one who needed to figure that out, however. The cake was also decorated with a few candles and a traditional 'Happy Birthday' written on top with syrup. Simple, but endearing nonetheless. There was also a small, neat envelope tucked next to it. Something Saeran added there as a sort of bonus. Out of respect, you haven't peeked inside yet.

"...Wow. Yeah. That is definitely a lot more incredible than giving me more Dr Pepper. He really went all out with this... And for me nonetheless," Saeyoung said eventually, chuckling under his breath and gazing down at the cake with softened eyes. He carefully picked up a small cherry from the top and popped it in his mouth, chewing on it with far more care than was necessary. He ended by licking the syrup off his lips after swallowing it. You tried not to stare excessively. You tried even harder to resist kissing him right then and there, but you were interrupted again by his warm voice: "Mm, it's really good! You said Saeran made it himself... how many times did he have to mess it up until this one?"

"Oh, he got it right on first try. Compared to us, he's practically a pastry chef," you groaned a bit, leaning back on his lap comfortably. "If I was to try and bake you a cake myself, it'd take me at least a dozen of ruined cakes before I'd get to something at least decent enough to eat."

Saeyoung snickered as he shook his head when he saw your pouty face. It was obvious that he'll be bothering you about that comment later. That was not important right now, though. He looked at the small envelope next to the cake, raising a curious eyebrow instead.

"And what's that?" he asked.

"Oh, a small letter he wrote for you!" you grinned after following his gaze, looking back down at his face with a small, knowing twinkle in your eye. "-Yeah, yeah, I know it's a bit silly and cliché, considering you'll see him tomorrow morning. But I think it's sweet. Plus, it's something for you to keep and return to! The cake will be eaten, after all."

Saeyoung's expression was once again one of surprise before he reached out to take the envelope and study it.

"...Wow. You guys are... really spoiling me this year 'round. I didn't even hit 30 yet," he chuckled softly, looking back up at you. "Will I finally get a kitten next year, then?"

You only laughed at that, giving his shoulder a playful push, to which he shot you a cheeky grin of his own: "Don't get cocky."

This was the usual banter between you two, one that was familiar and comfortable.

Without further ado, Saeyoung carefully opened the top of the envelope and extracted the letter that was folded inside. He opened it and held it in front of him while quietly reading it fully, his expression changing occasionally as his eyes moved through the written words. You got closer, Saeyoung turning the letter to ensure both of you could read it.

Saeran did state to you that it was not particularly noteworthy. Just a written expression of his feelings, since he found it easier to express himself like this, instead of using direct words. You understood that perfectly.

The letter read: 'Dear Hyung. Whether you are reading this on the very day you were given this letter, or sometime later, I can stay assured that what I wrote in here remains true. I want to wish you a happy birthday. I never thought I would get a chance to say that to you like this, much less for so many years in a row. And not with us both now being adults. You were always my pillar of strength and my other half, as far back as I can remember. I used to be so full of anger at that... So full of anger, and of hurt, but I'm wiser now. In part, thanks to you. I know now that you were always there for me. You were always thinking of me, just as I was thinking of you. We were always connected. I'm grateful for everything you've done for me, Hyung. And I'm grateful to be your twin. I wish to be your pillar of strength now. I want you to know that you can rely on me with whatever that may trouble you. There's no need for you to hide your true self from me anymore. Ah... It's tradition to make wishes on birthdays, right? I suppose I should wish you something... And I think I want to wish you peace, Hyung. You've fought long and hard for my sake. I want you to rest now, with me, and Y/N, and RFA. I wish for you to find your promise of happiness, as I did mine. Maybe we'll even share it, like we shared everything. Let's eat some ice cream tomorrow. I can't wait to watch the clouds with you - Saeran :) ❁ '

Saeyoung slowly placed the letter on his lap all while still observing the handwriting, his fingertips tracing over the scribbled words, feeling the settled ink under his skin. His expression softened significantly, his usual relaxed face now filled with a strange mixture of fondness and... something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. Something fragile.

"God... You two are going to make me cry on my own birthday..." he muttered quietly, raising his hand to rub a bit at his eye, on which you did not comment to avoid embarrassing him. With clear tenderness in his movements, he folded up the letter and placed it aside before wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder with a deep, shaky sigh. "He sure has a way with words, doesn't he?"

His voice was muffled by your shoulder, but you heard him loud and clear nonetheless, his words laced with familial affection you loved so much. Your stomach was fluttering at the precious moment between you. Seeing these brothers reconnect and rebuild their relationship step by step always made you feel incredibly happy for them both.

They deserved to live in peace.

You laughed softly, wrapping your own arms around his torso and giving him a small hug in return. Your heart was warmed by the knowledge that Saeran's words have truly touched him. You knew how important this was to Saeyoung, after all.

"Yeah, he sure does. But all he wrote in there is true, you know?" you hummed while tilting your head to the side to nuzzle into his hair, feeling the soft curls tickling your cheeks. "He want you to be happy. As do I."

Saeyoung sighed hesitantly, raising his head and pulling back slightly to gaze up at you again. His expression appeared vulnerable, almost teary-eyed. Although you weren't surprised by that, it still made your heart lurch a bit. Reaching out, you cupped his cheek tenderly, to which he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, making you smile.

"I am happy," he responded, his voice soft. "You make me happy. You and Saeran. You are my two angels I will treasure forever."

You giggled at that sentiment as you leaned in to gently rest your forehead against his, allowing him to bask in this moment of genuine affection he was still trying to adjust to sometimes.

"You're the angel in my eyes, love. Maybe all four of us are angels. Wouldn't that be sweet? A featherly family of four. Although, that would be pretty dusty."

Saeyoung laughed at that, letting out a couple of small sniffles here and there, and you let him, not saying a word. After a few minutes of comfortable silence have passed between you, you pull back and settle on his lap as he looks up at you. You gave him a more cheerful smile.

"-We just wanted to give you something that would show you how much we care. This is your day, as much as Saeran's," a sheepish grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you shrugged. "...And I won't lie that I didn't want to sneak in a small private moment, just for the two of us. I want you to be happy, too, you know?"

Saeyoung was quiet for a second, a somewhat pensive look now falling over his face... before he shook his head and leaned back against the couch with a small huff.

"Well... there is something I'm not very happy about."

You blinked and tilted your head to the side curiously.

"What's that?"

With a soft exhale and a growing smirk, he suddenly tightened his strong arms around your waist and pulled you in towards him: "...You're wearing too many clothes."

After a brief pause, you blinked once more and raised your brows incredulously. Well, that was random. Still, this wouldn't be the first time Saeyoung caught you off-guard. Far from it, actually. As you looked down at him with a knowing smile, you chuckled softly.

"...Aren't you going to try out the cake first? Saeran worked hard on it, you know."

You let out a small pouty sigh, quickly falling into step with a familiar game you two would play with each other whenever things got a bit heated.

Saeyoung raised his eyebrow at you and rolled his eyes with a playful whiff.

"Oh, I'll save it. I want to show it off to everyone tomorrow! Plus, it wouldn't feel right just eating it by myself like this. I want to do that with you and Saeran," he whispered, running his hand up and down your back while observing the cake with one last thoughtful look. And just like that, his attention was now fully on you, his golden eyes twinkling alluringly in the dim light of the nearby lamp. "...Not to mention, I'm not sure if I'll be thinking about the cake right now when I have something way better to bite into right in front of me…"

Despite his words and actions making your body shiver slightly, you giggled again. While still sitting on his lap, you rested your palms on his chest and gazed down at him, quite enjoying this view of him from above.

You could get used to this.

"Well, I suppose that's one way to start your birthday off," you mused playfully in an overdramatic show of reluctance, your voice dropping an octave or two, growing more hushed and sensual in nature, the tension between you two rising steadily. Like a small spark of fire steadily growing in size and shining brighter with every second.

With a radiant grin now plastered on his face, Saeyoung slid his hands down to grab your thighs and pull your body taut against his, eliciting a tiny gasp of surprise from you: "Get over here then, starshine."

You just smiled at that, enjoying the teasing sensation of his hands now trailing up and down your thighs. Then, unexpectedly, his palms slid around to grasp your at backside, making you jolt and squeak far louder than you would have liked to. A response that was clearly in his favor, judging by the burst of laughter that rumbled in his chest as you shot him an embarrassed glare. Before you could open your mouth to grumble, he interrupted you.

"-And, frankly, this is the best way to start off my birthday," you could feel the slight vibrations of his voice reverberating in his chest in your palms, the noticeably deeper tone of it quickly making your head start to get all fuzzy. "And also my favorite way."

God, you loved it when he talked like that.

With a gentle tug, Saeyoung grasped the back of your thighs with his hands, pulling you in closer and shifting your position until you were sitting more directly on top of his legs. He then gently rocked you forward, grounding you against the growing erection straining in his jeans, your fingers grasping at his shirt in response. The way your voices merged together into one intimate melody in the form of a shared gasp that left your lips' was truly dizzying, in the best way possible. He gently moved his hands up your sides and then slipped them under the edge of your shirt to feel the warmth of your bare skin under his fingertips, your back arching into his touch.

The way your body felt in his hands was something you absolutely adored, as if it was made to fit into his arms. His expert care left your body buzzing with the rising heat of desire that blossomed between your thighs as you shivered in his grasp. It was nothing new, Saeyoung was always a highly perceptive person. It was only natural that this trait of his translated into the bedroom as well. What he lacked in skill and experience, he would compensate with attentiveness to your body's responses and eagerness to learn. Over the years, he has truly mastered the art of making you come undone in so many wonderful ways. As you did with him.

As his lips glided across your neck, you closed your eyes and tilted your head to the side to give him more space to work with, sighing lightly. His lips left a heated trail of small kisses up the side of your neck, before pressing directly against your ear.

"I need you, buttercup," Saeyoung whispered in a deep, hoarse voice. "Right now."

"...Shouldn't I be the one treating you, though?" you contemplated quietly, raising one of your hands to comb through his curly hair, eliciting a pleased hum from him that caused you to shiver in turn. "It is your birthday, after all. Not mine. You should be getting all the attention tonight."

"Oh, you're more than welcome to treat me," Saeyoung murmured softly against your skin, his warm breath creating a tickling sensation on your neck as he moved his lips downwards, planting kisses towards the lower part of your throat, nearing your collarbone. "It's just that my favorite treat just happens to be you."

His hands firmly gripped your thighs again, gently massaging the soft flesh with growing greediness that always tended to come out of him whenever you two got intimate. A greediness you've always welcomed happily. Then, gradually, he moved up to your hips and settled on the small area of exposed skin between your pajamas shorts and shirt. His lips now touched your collarbone, leaving a trail of lovebites in their wake, then moved towards your shoulder, all while his fingers started to trace back and forth along the border of your shorts, gently touching the delicate skin there. It was impossible to focus on anything but his smothering presence overwhelming your every sense. Not that you wanted to. You would happily drown in his touch, each and every time.

"Saeyoung..."

"-Besides," he mumbled, his breath warm against your skin. "You're all I want, anyways. As long as I have you right here, with me, I'm good for the rest of my life, trust me on that."

Despite the circumstances, you managed to give out a hearty laugh at that.

"...You are such a dork," you said with an obvious fondness in your voice, shaking your head at him slightly. You glided your finger across his black button-up, tracing his chest where it was casually unbuttoned, the small shiver that ran through his body at your delicate touch making you grin to yourself. After all, he was just as affected by you as you were by him.

"Well you married this dork, thank you very much," Saeyoung smirked as his own finger trailed down your chest in return, mimicking your gesture. With a mix of love and longing in his eyes, he raised his head and looked up at you. "And this dork needs you bad, right now."

"Well, who am I to deny the birthday boy?"

With that, you slid down and gently cupped his cheek with the palm of your hand, pressing your lips against his at long last, tasting the sweet cherry flavor on his tongue with a pleased hum. A gentle sound of pleasure rumbled in the back of Saeyoung's throat as he immediately reciprocated the kiss with equal fervor.

You quickly molded your body into his as you shared a tender, lingering kiss that only grew in passion as seconds trickled by. Although he was clearly more than eager to move on to the next step with you right away, the affectionate and unhurried kisses seemed just perfect as they were. He slowly moved his hands up your abdomen, lifting your shirt as he went and feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his touch. You effortlessly lifted your arms for him, allowing him to smoothly remove your shirt from your body. Breaking off the kiss only for a moment, he swiftly did just that, discarding it somewhere on the floor, and then pulled you back in closer for another kiss, seemingly unwilling to be away from your lips for too long at a time.

Your seamless communication without any words being spoken was clear on display as you acted in perfect harmony with each other, your bodies moving as one. There was a certain beauty in that. To lose yourself in another's warmth and touch, letting yourself surrender and become a part of something special. A testament to the years of trust and experiences together.

Or maybe you were being a bit too sappy for your own good.

As Saeyoung pulled you closer for yet another kiss, your fingertips skillfully unbuttoned at his own shirt, gently brushing away the soft fabric to caress his warm chest, his skin smooth under your fingertips.

Saeyoung let out a soft moan into the kiss, feeling your hands trace over his muscles and scars reverently. By this point, you knew his body in all of its tiniest of details, as he did yours. Every freckle, every scar, every dip and crevice. You knew the stories behind all of his scars, shared in quiet conversations under the cloak of the night.

His scars were a reminder of his perseverance. And they made him that much more beautiful to you.

Meanwhile, his own hands eagerly explored your body, firmly grasping and squeezing in all the right places to make you jolt and shudder against him, as he explored the contours of your figure he already knew so well.

Saeyoung gently broke the kiss and looked back at you, his eyes now fully glazed over as you two panted, regaining your breathing from the heated exchange that just took place between you two. You shivered as you saw his lips, now plump and reddened as a result of your own actions, his cheeks dusted with a pretty shade of cherry-red that made his freckles even more prominent, the shade of his blush almost matching that fiery hair of his you loved so much.

He looked good enough to eat like that.

"You always know how to take my breath away, starshine..."

Saeyoung leaned up and gave you a gentle peck on the cheek that made your heart flutter in your chest. Then, he moved his hands lower to take hold of your ass again, but this time, with clear intention rather than a mere tease. He began to lift you up effortlessly, to which you only gave him a questioning look, but went along with it nonetheless, wrapping your arms around his neck and hooking you legs over his hips to help him out. He grinned at that, giving you another quick, appreciative kiss. This time, on the tip of your nose.

He carefully guided you off his lap and instead positioned you onto the coffee table next to the cake, settling you down with your back against the armrest of the couch and your lower body now resting comfortably on the edge of the table.

Your breath caught audibly as you observed his every movement with reverence. Your eyes were half-lidded, just as captivated by him and perfectly oblivious to everything and anything else in the room at this moment. You couldn't control it even if you wanted to; he was incredibly attractive, almost painfully so. Since that first silly selfie he sent to you in the chatroom all those years ago, you had always believed that to be the unrebukable truth. And even after everything you have experienced together over the past few years, he still managed to leave you utterly breathless.

His own expression was almost mesmerized and he smirked a bit to himself, taking in the captivating sight before him.

"Told you my favorite part of my birthday is already right here," he whispered softly while sinking down on his knees in front of you.

"Jesus, Saeyoung..." you exhaled shakily, your heart pounding all the way up in your temples, a mix of excitement and admiration gripping at your chest.

His hands rested on your thighs, his thumbs gently caressing the smooth skin there. Gradually, Saeyoung parted your legs, positioning himself between them, and lifting your legs to rest comfortably on his shoulders.

As he gazed up at you with amber eyes now darkened by desire, he formed a knowing smile that almost made you whimper from the sight of it alone.

Even though you tried your best, you wriggled impatiently on the coffee table while he touched you, kneeling before you in such a breathtaking manner. The mere sight of him in that position for you ignited a strong sense of lust within you, and it only intensified with every passing moment. However, you held off on the urge to rush him - as you usually do with him - even though you knew he wouldn't mind you being demanding with him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Your knuckles turned white as you tightly grasped the edge of the coffee table, your breathing inevitably quickening in anticipation and making your heart beat ever faster, pounding against your ribcage and sending blood pumping to the growing knot of desire in the pit of your stomach.

"You look just like an angel like that, you know..." Saeyoung whispered, not at all helping with your growing state of lust-filled turmoil.

With that, he bent down to plant a series of kisses along the sensitive inner flesh of your calves, slowly moving up to your inner thighs, towards the aching spot between your legs where you needed him most. He firmly grasped at your thighs with his fingers, holding them open for him while he gently and sensually kissed up, nearing the edge of your silky shorts. The warmth and scent of you were driving him wild, intensifying his craving for more, to bury his face between your thighs and taste you on his tongue.

However, he, too, refrained for now. He made sure to spend enough time with you to savor you like you deserved, kissing you gently everywhere but where you really wanted him, until he breathed on the thin fabric covering your core.

"...Are you seriously about to eat me out on your birthday? Like I said, it should be me treating you, not the other way around," you murmured, your voice hoarse and breathy, a clear sign of your ever-increasing arousal.

"But you are treating me," Saeyoung said matter-of-factly, his breath touching your skin. "And this is the best treat you can give me, love bug, trust me."

He was driving you crazy, dear god.

You couldn't quite understand what had gotten into him today, but you definitely weren't complaining in the slightest. His every action caused your breath to catch in your throat and your chest to fill with nervous excitement for what would happen next. Seeing him in this state, kneeling between your legs, so eager and willing to taste you without you even having to ask...

Wow, you really hit the jackpot with him, huh? Though, it's not like you were unaware of that. But it was truly surprising to you that he was doing this for you on his own birthday. By all accounts, it should have been you pleasuring him, not the other way around. And yet, he was more than eager to focus on you instead. That damn lovable goofball.

Your breath was shaky, and your hand instinctively reached down to gently stroke his hair, wishing to show him some of your affection and gratitude, to which you felt him hum appreciatively against you, making your legs shake a bit.

Saeyoung moved closer, positioning his face directly between your legs now. He lowered his head and nuzzled his cheek against one of your thighs, taking a moment to just breathe in your scent and soak in your warmth. Then, slowly and deliberately, he turned his head and planted a firm kiss directly on your clothed core. He could feel the heat practically radiating from you by this point, and he made a soft sound of approval, closing his eyes for a moment to just enjoy the feel of you.

In a way, it was to remind himself that you were really here. Real. Even now, he would still find himself doubtful and paranoid of this fragile happiness you have built with him so generously. The mere fact that you have chosen to give your heart to him was a miracle he will cherish for the rest of his days on this Earth, of that, he was certain.

The least he could do was make you feel good like this. Show you his appreciation through his touch. Ravish you like you deserve.

Saeyoung leaned closer, pressing his face against you, sensing the dampness that could already be felt through the soft fabric of your thin shorts. He raised his head slightly to lock eyes with you, then trailed his nose along the curve of your hip, feeling the soft fabric of your shorts against his skin.

The eye contact was just too much.

"Can we please get these shorts off me?" you whined softly, uncertain how much longer you could handle being teased like this, even though you knew he wasn't doing it intentionally.

Yet.

Saeyoung chuckled at your request, his warm breath tickling your skin. He obviously noticed how your body trembled with every movement, and it only fueled his desire to playfully taunt you with all that he had. However, right now, he only wanted to taste you, to make you come undone for him, above all else.

"Roger that, my lovely 606," he whispered in a hushed and raspy voice. "Lift up for me, starshine."

You complied without any extra guidance needed, raising your hips from the table all while taking in the familiar combination of nervousness and eagerness buzzing in your chest.

Saeyoung took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, admiring you in your vulnerable state. Your body was now fully exposed to him, laid out, and ready for him to enjoy. He slowly moved his hands up your legs, observing how your muscles responded to his touch, twitching and tensing in anticipation. With care, he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your shorts and smoothly pulled them down along with your underwear, discarding the soft pieces of clothing along with your shirt in a messy pile on the floor. As soon as you were completely bare from the waist down, Saeyoung moved closer and placed his hands back on your hips. Without much delay, he once again buried his face between your thighs, no more barriers getting in the way of his desire.

You trembled a bit, attempting to avoid squeezing your legs together around his head. A soft whimper escaped your mouth as you felt him finally touch you where you needed him most, your heart pounding in your chest, your pulse reverberating in your temples. You reached down with one hand and gently stroked his hair again, not tugging at it quite yet. Though it will probably happen eventually as the night progresses. His hair would always end up a mess after this. A very lovely looking, fiery mess.

As Saeyoung exhaled, his breath was hot and heavy against your folds, feeling the warmth and wetness now pressed directly against his nose. He had no shame in expressing his enjoyment of it all. He couldn't contain himself and let out a soft, eager moan as he savored the first taste of you, his tongue quickly getting to work as he swiped it between your folds in a painfully slow motion, savoring the feel of you against him.

He observed how your muscles tightened as a result of his ministrations, the sounds of your soft gasps going straight to his groin as he fought back the urge to squirm on his spot. This was about you. He'll get his share later. He gently glided his hands down from your hips to your thighs, encouraging you to relax.

"Relax, buttercup," Saeyoung murmured against you, his warm breath touching your core and making you tremble. "Just let me treat you..."

He turned and placed a few more leisurely, heated kisses on the inside of your thighs before diving back in, his whole mouth now fully on you, leaving nothing to imagination. He savored your taste with a deep, primal moan as he finally got what he wanted. His gentle pressure on your legs kept them apart for him, his hands holding you firmly while you twitched uncontrollably, keeping you exposed to him.

His tongue gently teased at your entrance, gathering some more of your juices, then moved higher to circle around your clit, his lips sucking on it gently, his gaze now fully focused on your face.

As you threw your head back with a needy moan, you realized that this was going to be a long night.

Taking deep, unsteady breaths, you tried your best to soothe your pounding heart and the lingering tremors that were a stark reminder of your passionate lovemaking that took place only minutes prior. With you now resting on Saeyoung's chest, you both reclined on the couch, gradually regaining your composure.

You finally broke the comfortable silence by letting out a soft chuckle after a while.

"So... That's certainly one way to start off a birthday," you repeated your earlier words, your fingers drumming against his bicep lightly.

The sound of Saeyoung's breathless laughter quietly vibrated within his chest as you rested against him. He smiled at you, tracing delicate designs on your skin, his hands gently stroking your back.

"One of the best birthdays I've had, I'd say," he said with a slightly hoarse voice as a result of your previous activities together. Though, you loved how he sounded when he was like this. All breathless, a bit raspy, and gravely. Because of you.

He adjusted his position slightly, bringing you in closer to him, relishing in the messy sensation of your sweaty, naked body against his. He tucked his face into your hair, taking a moment to unwind and soak up the warm afterglow with you. This time, he was the one who broke the silence, his voice now being more gentle and contemplative than playful: "...Seriously, though, what did I do to deserve an angel like you, hm?"

You expressed your irritation by rolling your eyes and playfully bumping his bare chest with your fist.

"Hey, none of that. Especially on your birthday. Or I'll have to kiss you senseless to shut you up for good."

Saeyoung's eyes were quick to sparkle with lighthearted mischief as he grinned up at you: "...Is that supposed to be a threat, starshine? Because I'm afraid I won't mind that at all."

He reached out to gently hold your chin, tilting your head back a little, his lips hovering mere inches from your own.

"Maybe you'll give me a demonstration, my little alien? Shut me up, will you?" he whispered, his eyes filled with silent challenge for you. One that you took with not much thought.

"Gladly," you chuckled, leaning in and securing his lips in a soft, lingering kiss as the afterglow of your latest lovemaking washed over you in a pleasant, relaxing buzz in your achy muscles.

Your affection was immediately reciprocated, with Saeyoung emitting a soft moan and tightening his grip on your chin ever so slightly. Your lips touching his so gently and unhurriedly created a warm and contented sensation that has wrapped his heart in a soothing embrace he was unwilling to let go of. Gradually, he turned you both over, positioning your back against the couch, all without interrupting the kiss. His body now towered over yours.

Gradually, what started out as a simple press of your lips against his has escalated into a full-blown makeot session, with Saeyoung's tongue entering your mouth and savoring your taste all over again, never once getting tired of it. After all, he would often find himself getting insatiable when it came to you. He firmly grasped your waist with one of his hands, keeping you close to him.

His embrace made you tremble, as his passionate kisses caused your breath to get caught up in your throat all over again. However, you still retained enough awareness to pull back a bit, placing your hands on his chest, and gazing up at him with glazed over eyes and flushed cheeks. In this moment, Saeyoung appeared absolutely stunning. He was positioned above you, with the light from the ceiling creating a tinted shadow over his face, his skin glistening from the thin layer of sweat covering his body.

Now that's a sight for sore eyes.

"I can't get enough of you..." he murmured against your lips once he pulled away, his breaths shaky against your lips, his voice deep and husky once again. "Never could. Never will."

With genuine affection in your gaze, you gently stroked his cheek, letting out a soft, shaky giggle.

"I still want to be able to walk straight tomorrow for your birthday party, you know."

Saeyoung chuckled quietly at that, the sound resonating deep within his chest. Leaning closer, he was clearly enjoying the sensation of your touch on his cheek, even closing his eyes in contentment. At this point, he would likely be vibrating with his entire body, if only he could purr. A thought that made you laugh to yourself with amusement.

"Eh, can't promise anything, love bug," he whispered back with a slight playful smirk now playing on his lips.

His hand, which was previously resting idly on your waist, glided down to your inner thigh, applying gentle pressure and caressing the delicate skin there, but not doing anything more than that.

Nonetheless, you expressed your disapproval by lightheartedly rolling your eyes at him and adjusting your position slightly to raise yourself up onto your elbows.

"Come on, we do need some strength for tomorrow," you gave his cheek a gentle kiss. "Let's go start up a bath and go to bed for tonight. It's almost 2 am now, anyways."

Saeyoung gave out an overdramatic sigh, feigning disappointment. His eagerness for a second round was evident, maybe even a third, if you were willing to let him. Nonetheless, he did acknowledge that you both indeed needed some rest.

"You're right, you're right," he conceded. Before getting up from the couch, he gave you one last kiss on the lips. "I'll get the bath ready, you go get the towels, deal?"

"Deal."

He caught one last sight of you swiftly standing up after him and walking away to get the towels and spare clothes for you both. His eyes scanned over your body, appreciating your every movement and the way your skin glowed smoothly in the light of the apartment, noticing the small marks he had left on you. He sighed once more and then entered the bathroom to begin preparing for the bath.

Meanwhile, you retrieved some towels and pajamas for both of you to change into after the bath. Satisfied, you headed back to the bathroom with pep in your step, eagerly anticipating the simple pleasure of relaxing in the warm, soapy water, ending this already wonderful evening on a very positive note.

When you entered the room, Saeyoung quickly turned his head to look at you, flashing you a wide grin.

"You can set those on the counter!"

He pointed towards the towels while still adjusting the water in the bathtub to ensure the temperature was just perfect for you. After turning off the faucet, he stepped away from the bathtub and observed the gentle movement of the bubbly water against the sides.

Unable to resist, he stole another appreciative glance at you, his eyes fixating on your physique before finally speaking again: "...You're going to give me a heart attack one of these days looking like that, starshine."

With clear disbelief, you looked over at him and raised your brows incredulously.

"...I'm literally just standing here, love."

Your blunt response was clearly more than amusing to him, as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back against the counter: "Oh, I know. You just look angelic doing absolutely nothing, buttercup."

You entered the soothing bath with a slight snort and a shake of your head, exhaling a satisfied sigh as the fragrant water cleansed your sweaty body. The sweet scent of blackberry quickly surrounded you in a pleasant cloud of tranquility, and you even found yourself closing your eyes in pure bliss.

As you immersed yourself in the water, Saeyoung's eyes once again scanned over your body, observing your every move with warm affection in his gaze. Nonetheless, his attention was still directed towards the various marks he was the direct cause of: proof of his existence now scattered across your skin like a temporary tattoo. Small marks in the shape of his lips and fingers that were now turning a pretty shade of red thanks to the heat from the water. A familiar feeling of fulfillment rose within him at the sight, knowing that he had left his trace on you, that you were his in body and spirit, as much as he was completely yours in turn. He was even tempted to leave a few more, but he realized it was far too late in the night to bother you with that. You both needed to rest, and above all, he just wanted to hold you in his arms and feel your warmth.

"Hey, scooch forward a bit. I'm getting in," he said, tilting his head toward the water.

And that was exactly what you did, quickly adjusting your position in the bathtub and gazing up at him with a small smile of anticipation, waiting for him to join you at last.

Saeyoung stepped closer to the bathtub until he was right behind you, and then slowly lowered himself into it, taking a seat and wrapping his arms securely around your waist. He drew you in toward his chest, keeping you close and placing you snuggly between his legs.

"Mmm. Much better," he whispered to you softly, nesting his face into your neck and planting a few light kisses on your skin. "God, I love holding you like this, starshine."

As you leaned back against him, a gentle smile tugged at the corners of your lips, letting out a contented sigh. The delightful aroma of the soapy water and the affectionate touch of your husband had you in a truly happy mood. Taking a bath together was like shooting two birds with one stone: both cleansing yourself as well as finding solace in one another after engaging in some rather intense activities with him. You gently rested your hand on one of his arms, which encircled your waist beneath the water and kept it there, your thumb running over his skin in slow circles.

As he leaned back against the bathtub, Saeyoung felt the sensation of your warm skin against his chest, almost completely pressing against you. He slowly moved his hands down your sides, gently touching your skin while he buried his face in your hair.

"Happy birthday, Saeyoung," you said in a hushed voice.

His warm breath touching your ear, Saeyoung released a gentle laugh.

"You already gave me the best gift I could ask for," he replied, the tone of his voice deep and playful. He delicately held the lower part of your jaw and tilted your head upwards before planting a series of slow, leisurely kisses on your neck after shifting one of his hands from your side. "...You."

[marshmallowprotection]

hellooo i saw in one of your fics abt jumin and sevens friendship you mentioned about how seven sees the rfa as family but when push comes to shove he will always choose saeran.

Is sevens mc the same as rfa? Or is she equal to saeran, i honestly cant imagine them being same as saeran cus the brotherly luv those two have is alot more deep rooted~ but then i cant imagine seven ever hurting mc either afterall they are his lover.

I hope iam making sense here sjsbkwn ig iam curious what seven would do in that situation since i never see anyone talking about it. Take care ^^

Saeyoung's MC is equal to Saeran in Saeyoung's eyes. He would drop people for you and Saeran if he had to. There would be no hesitation on his part. Saeyoung is going to do everything in his power to make sure his baby brother's safe AND he's going to do everything in his power to make sure his MC is safe.

Saeran is his brother, his mirror image, and he wants to see his brother be safe and happy. Saeran has spent too long miserable, alone, and hurting. He has a brother who wants to be there for him, and that brother won't let anyone manipulate or abuse him on his watch. Never again will Saeran know that pain.

You are his partner, his best friend and lover, and he truly wants to experience what it feels like to be selfish and alive with you. You're both equally important to him, and he'd do anything to keep you safe and happy. He can't put one of you over the other when you mean so much to him. You're his family. Sure, the RFA is his family, too, but at the end of the day, even if he lost them, as long as he has his brother and you, he'll be okay.

The only area where his devotion to protecting the most important people in his life could run into trouble is if Saeran and MC don't get along. That is to say, if the MC is fearful of Saeran or bothered by the events that occurred that brought them to the RFA. Saeyoung will be at odds with himself if he has to craft two houses for the safety AND happiness of his family.

He wouldn't want to force you to be around his brother if you're afraid of him, but... it's difficult to protect his family (I.E. you and Saeran) if he's forced to navigate between two worlds. To be torn away from his brother would be torture. He can't go through that again, and if you're in a position where you've gained his trust and love, he will take your feelings into consideration, but if you were to force an ultimatum and say, "It's me or Saeran"?

He's not choosing you, I'll tell you that right now. He will thank you for being there for him, for supporting him, but if you think he's going to send his brother away to make you happy? You don't understand him at all. This is a man who has sacrificed everything over and over again for his brother's peace. If you're going to hinder Saeran's ability to be safe (from their father and the threat he still poses)? He can't be with you, no matter how much he loves you.

He would rather be alone for the rest of his life romantically than live another miserable day without knowing where Saeran is, and that he is safe from harm. Saeyoung doesn't want to hurt your feelings but... yeah.

Nobody is going to make him live without his brother ever again. It's one thing if (after Saejoong Choi is dealt with) Saeran wants to move into his own place not far from Saeyoung. But, it's another to be put in a position where your brother could die if he's sent packing. For a man who has fought to keep his brother alive his entire life, he's not about to send Saeran to his grave because his partner told him that he can either send Saeran away or stay with them.

It's okay if you're nervous around his brother or you need time to figure out how you feel about Saeran. He won't force you to be close to Saeran if you don't want to be, but... at the same time, he wants to see his family together in the same room. Saeran likely has his own complicated feelings about you, too. He did try to kidnap you, and he put you in harm's ways more than once. You both need time to get to know each other, and Saeyoung's willing to take his time with this to make sure you're both safe and comfortable.

[babylon-cal]

RFA (Jumin, V, Saeran Jaehee) w/ A Small Chested MC

A/N: I'm sorry this took a while to get to you, I've been caught up with some stuff and I hope you enjoy this! I haven't done much fic type writing in a while so I hope this is satisfactory for you!

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Type: Headcannon Genre: Fluff, light smut Members: Jumin, V, Saeran & Jaehee Requested by: anon - Hi! I love Jumin from Mystic Messenger so much! I hope it’s okay to request a fluffy, slightly smutty headcanon of Juju, Jaehee, Jihyun and Saeran (separately) with an insecure and small chested mc?

Jumin:

Jumin seems like the type of person to find it attractive

but this man would do anything to make you feel better

so one day when he hears you sigh and say "I wish my boobs were bigger" he turns to you with a confused look

"why?" cuz what are you talking about, he is OBSESSED

when you express that you feel like having a small chest makes you feel undesirable or unattractive, he immediately swoops you up into his arms and onto his lap

"do i need to sue instagram? for showing my baby photos that make her insecure, cuz I will" stop him

"sweetheart, honestly, they're perfect, i don't want you to ever think about changing them, they're beautiful"

He really does mean it, and is sure to give your chest some extra attention during sex by giving it kisses and leaving hickeys all over it

"I really can't get enough of you, my love. If it was up to me, I'd have you topless all the time"

Jihyun (V)

This man is the Biggest Simp for MC in a relationship with them

Ever since getting together, he's always made sure that you have healthy communication, nothing you bring up is ever too stupid or insignificant

He always has time to listen and always knows how to make you feel better

So when you finally decide to bring up how you feel insecure about being small chested, he is right in front of you, grabbing your face gently in his hands and reassuring you

"I understand my love, but there is absolutely nothing wrong with the size of your chest. I love them, they're the perfect size for me! and I love you!"

Everytime you have sex, he always gives your chest gentle caresses and squeezes, plsying with your nipples with his fingers

"You are so perfect, my love"

Jaehee

Jaehee doesn't realise that you struggle with this insecurity until she sees that you've purchased inserts to make them look bigger

She doesn't confront you about it right away. She brings it up one day when you're in the shower together

"How come you bought inserts to wear under your clothes"

So you tell her, you open up to her about how you feel

She's listens and once you're done she pulls you closer so that your soapy chests are pressed up against each other

She caresses your back gently

"I had no idea you felt this way MC, I am so sorry. Please know that I love you just the way you are"

But she's understanding and tells you that if wearing the inserts make you feel better about yourself, you should keep wearing them, as long as it makes you happy

She still tries to cheer you up

"Trust me, MC you don't want big boobs, it makes your back hurt!!"

Saeran

You've spent a longer time than usual staring at your chest in the bathroom mirror

Saeran knocks on the door, "MC, are you okay? You've been in there for a while"

You tell him to come in, and he's a little flustered when he sees you but he quickly goes concerned when he sees your face

"My chest is pathetically small" you mutter out

Saeran walks behind you and places his hands on your chest. He looks at you through the mirror

"I don't get it, my love, look how perfect they fit in my hand"

You crack a smile and he grabs your waist to turn you around. He pulls you against his chest

"Besides, it just means I can feel your heartbeat better when you're close to me"

During sex, this man will Worship your body and constantly tell you how beautiful and sexy you are

He will do anything to make sure you don't feel sad about it again

END.

[dragonroses]

Edit for my fic I'll Save You

Summary:

What if you could save the entirety of the RFA in a single route?

Or, in which MC saves them all (except one).

[lokisis]

Hey boss... Hope you're having a great Holiday! Hope you don't mind me dropping this scene from rfas off on this Christmas :]

THANK YOU UUU EAAGHHAGA

[brighteststar707]

15 FOR V I'm going to cry if I'm too late for this

Thank you for the request Xela! It's about time I wrote something nice and fluffy for V, it's been far too long. I hope I've done him justice here for you and you enjoy the fic <3

Finding excuses to be alone with each other

✦ V x fem!MC

✦ Words: 1198

Jihyun had spent a lot of time in that quiet cabin in the mountains trying to picture what his return to the RFA would look like. He had so many hopes and twice as many fears. Would his friends take him back, or are the things he did in the past unforgivable? Part of his growth in his time away was learning that he had to be okay with both answers, and that he couldn’t force forgiveness out of anyone.

When he was planning his and Saeran’s return, he had only allowed himself to hope for a warm welcome from Jumin and for forgiveness from the person he left waiting. She had filled his dreams nearly every night since he left, there was so much he wanted to tell her about his time away, he had so much to prove to her.

From the rest of the RFA, he only hoped to not be hated.

Imagine his surprise when they all surrounded him in surprise and excitement upon his return. He was the centre of attention, with two years’ worth of pent up curiosity and anticipation coming to a head all at once. There seemed to be no talk of hatred or resentment, even from her.

He hadn’t expected to only get a few minutes alone with her at that RFA party to say all that he had wanted to. She had started at him like he wasn’t quite real and he clasped her hands in his and tried to say things that could never express what he had been through in the past few years. All the growing he had done, the things he had learned, all the reasons he thinks he can actually be good for her now.

Then, everyone else descended upon them again, pressing glasses of champagne into his hand and asking him so many questions. Never mind, there would be more time later for them to talk properly.

He spent the rest of the night surrounded by more people than he had been around in years, accepting drinks and exchanging stories. Always craning his neck to make sure she was close by, pulling her into conversation at times. Everyone’s smiles had brightened somewhat, and the party was a stunning success for more reasons than one. 

The only thing that was bothering him was that he hadn’t gotten another moment to talk to her alone since their initial reunion. Everything he had wanted to say to her still sat on the tip of his tongue, desperate to spill out, only encouraged by the drinks he had been given. He wanted to explain himself, say everything his letters couldn’t possibly express. He wanted to hold her close for every warm memory of her that kept him going when he was away. He wanted to feel her breath on his skin and hear his name from her mouth so he’d know that it was all real.

He caught her eye as they were watching an animated discussion between Jumin and Zen unfold, and he was thrilled to find a glint of mischief there. He might have only returned a few hours ago, but he could read the frustration in her body language all too well. Every time someone new interrupted their conversations, she shifted impatiently from foot to foot. Now, she raised an eyebrow and her eyes darted quickly to the storeroom and back to him. It was all he needed to get the message.

A few seconds later, she slipped away from the conversation (which was quickly growing into an argument, with Yoosung and Saeyoung egging them both on) and disappeared behind the storeroom door. Nobody seemed any the wiser. Jihyun stuck around for a few more minutes before making a quick excuse (that fell on deaf ears) and joining her.

“Hi,” she says once the door is closed again. Here, her voice sounds smaller than it did out in the hall. She keeps looking at his face as if she’s internally adjusting a mental image. He supposes he looks quite different than he did a few years ago. So does she, after all.

“Hi.”

The space they occupy is a strange one. They are practically strangers who also happen to know each other better than anyone else. She may not know the way his smile is sort of crooked but she’d recognize his voice anywhere. She has lived in his house for the past two years and he sees her face every time he closes his eyes.

She’s standing with her back resting against the wall. He joins her, leaning against his arm and angling himself towards her. They fall into a soft conversation, their faces angled close to each other so they barely have to raise their voices above a whisper. They had gone over the pleasantries earlier, and now he wants to make steps to fill in the most urgent gaps that had formed during their separation.

Up close, she admires just how well their time apart had treated him. His skin has a healthy glow and his cheeks are fuller. His hair is shorter than it was when she last saw him, but it has the look of a haircut that’s on its way to being grown out. The sides flip over his ears and make him look a little scruffy, fitting for the trip he just returned from. The front is styled in a graceful swoop that falls into his eyes every time he leans towards her.

He's beautiful.

As they talk, the pieces start to fall into place. Despite everything that has changed, things still feel the same way they did two years ago. Something sparks between them, something that could grow into something more substantial, if they allow it to.

As he talks, she reaches out a hand to brush his hair out of his eyes. He freezes, momentarily surprised, but then he chuckles gleefully. The whole scenario feels ridiculous, the two of them sneaking to a back room, slowly putting the pieces of their relationship back together while hiding away like teenagers. It’s not the grand reunion he had pictured, it’s much more mundane than that, but it’s somehow so much better.

He leans back a little to shift his balance, but she playfully tugs at his collar, keeping him from getting too far. He follows, leaning in closer than he has dared to yet, until their foreheads are touching. His hand rests on the wall by her waist so he can support himself against the wall and still keep himself close.

Everything is so new but this closeness feels familiar, as if everything before was simply building up to this moment. Their faces angle to slot together perfectly without a second’s hesitation. He can smell her perfume and feel her breath on his skin and can almost taste her. Almost.

One of them – he isn’t sure who – closes the gap and they kiss.

It's better than forgiveness, it's better than redemption. It's a promise of something new, something better. It is as familiar as a song learned by heart and it's entirely theirs.

The party carries on without them outside, and they are none the wiser.

[heyheydidjaknow]

wake up babe heyheydidja let their creative brain juices flow and posted a fic

And on that note here’s another fic— longer this time— about another character I have written for exactly once. This time for the otome game! It’s been sitting in my drive for 2+ months and now it’s going to see the light of day. We’re breaking down fanfiction author stereotypes this week.

Existential Horror

Luciel had been introduced to horror as a genre fairly early on all things considered. He had never been partial to classic literature— he was not really partial to literature in general once he fell into the rhythm of his new life and allowed himself to enjoy the World Wide Web and all its associated horrors— but in those early days spent waiting on bated breath for instruction from above, he had spent his time— rather, the time that was not spent worrying about his brother— reading whatever books his handler happened to have picked up and tossed aside. Vanderwood’s tastes rubbed off on him to an extent; by the time he had enough regular work to keep himself too busy to sit down and read a book, Seven had a thorough appreciation for the genre. But they did not enjoy their novels in the same way; when Vanderwood would ask Seven about them to break the suffocating silence that hung around him like a heavy fog back then, he was completely unable to engage in meaningful conversation with him about books they had both read. Luciel attributed this to Vanderwood’s lack of connection to the text. Vanderwood enjoyed the books, as far as he could tell, because he got a kick out of interacting with stories about people losing their minds to things beyond their control. Luciel was too close to it, the words too intimate and personal for him to see as anything but a perfectly rational articulation of a feeling he had always felt, would always feel. It was comforting, knowing that someone else— fictional as they may be— understood him.

It was still a challenge, years later, to articulate how he had been informed of his position. He imagined it would be a bit like a child trying to explain gravity; the mechanics were beyond him, but the truth of the matter was indubitable. He supposed it was in his programming to understand only in this most basic sense. He supposed it would be problematic if he understood more than he did. He doubted knowing beyond what he did would do him much good.

Your arrival— your avatar’s arrival— made things make sense. He knew as soon as he saw her face what her role was, and understood intrinsically who she was to him, to the world. A remarkably unremarkable yet decidedly beautiful woman so naive as to follow the words of a stranger on the internet to Rika’s apartment: she played her role as a stand-in beautifully and shined in all her hazy glory. Her words were perfectly intelligible yet decidedly lacked character, her visage was without distinguishable quality and was yet undeniably appealing, her voice stuck in the mind only in the same way the characters in books’ voices did and she did very little outside of sit, answer emails and make simple conversation. As she was destined to do, she caught the attention of every single member of the RFA— himself included. She would shower the members in praise and affection for the eleven days they had together, enter a relationship with them, enjoy domestic bliss for a nebulous period of time— he had given up trying to nail down numbers a long time ago— before the memories they had formed together gently disintegrated. All traces of her would be scrubbed from their lives and she would be reintroduced as a fresh face for the group to fawn over once again. When she was with Seven there would occasionally be a longer grace period in which he was allowed to reunite with his brother for a time before the cycle repeated itself but the ending stayed the same regardless of who she attached herself to.

Oddly enough, he did not mind the routine itself. It was hard to hate something so inherently sweet, something that felt— despite the objective reality of the situation— so simple and innocent. You— the nebulous you he knew to exist— were not acting maliciously. You were playing a game that he and everyone else happened to be a part of, and you had not, in your play, acted maliciously. You had made mistakes and encouraged behaviors that he and the other members of the RFA should not have engaged in, but you were never cruel. It was hard to hate you not only because of his position but also because you were genuinely hard to dislike, and while that was sometimes more frustrating than just hating you outright he could not help but continue to be drawn to you and your replacement by proxy.

He had memories of you. They were distant, but he swore had them. They were near indistinguishable from his memories of your proxy– which, themselves, were hardly concrete– but if he stayed up until his eyes could barely take it he could swear to know the echo of your smile, your voice, your fingers.

He tried not to think of you much. He liked to think he had more important things to worry about.

The night it started was normal enough. Everyone was in the RFA chat room late at night— odd in general but standard for the beginning of a route— and a stranger entered the chat room. There was general distress around the stranger’s arrival, Seven pretended to do a background check on the stranger— he had stopped bothering the third time through— and everyone else introduced themselves. The beats played themselves out, words flying by at the same pace they always did as the stranger explained their position and what they were doing in an allegedly dead woman’s apartment. Jokes were made, hits replayed, and everyone went to bed or back to whatever it was they had been doing before the stranger appeared. He had seen every single combination of words that she could send in response to the various threats and propositions you received; he barely bothered to read the wall of text that flew by. Nothing happened on the first day; no need to reread events already decidedly set in stone.

His first tip that something was up was when he went to text her. After her admission into the RFA, she was always a bit nervous– understandable, given the circumstances– so he always made the move to message her, to make her feel more comfortable even though it did not matter much in practice.

He introduced himself. He asked for any updates regarding the hacker. He welcomed her.

Her response was new.

‘It’s a pleasure, Seven. Sorry for freaking everyone out; hope I haven’t given you too much work lol’

He took his glasses off, wiping them on his shirt. He took a deep breath, put them back on, and reread the text.

It was the same as it had been a second ago. He reread it again.

Again.

The text did not change.

“You planning on staring at your phone all night?”

He sat straight up as though shaken awake, head snapping back to look at an otherwise undisturbed Vanderwood.

He did not bother to look up from the file on his lap. “If you’ve got time to dick around on your phone you have time to work. You know the deadline you were given wasn’t a suggestion, right?”

The laugh that came from Seven sounded forced even to him. “What, seriously?” He set his phone down on his desk face down, wiping his shaky hands off on his jeans. “I could have sworn I read somewhere time is relative.”

“For as high as you seem to be half the time you’re not orbiting the Earth yet.” He crossed one of his legs over the other. “Your tone isn't inspiring confidence either. Something happen?”

His heart was pounding in his throat. “Nothing,” he smiled brightly. “RFA got hacked is all.”

Vanderwood whistled.

“Right?” He swallowed. “I guess it serves me right not checking my work; guess that’s what I get for not having a good work-life balance!” He shrugged. “But it’s nothing serious; I’ll find who did it after I’m done with this.”

He reached down to grab his coffee. “You’re awfully chipper.”

Seven looked back at his computer. “You sound surprised.”

“For as much as you freak out about that server, I am.” He took a sip, setting it back down by his feet. “You lose your mind over the emotes not working but a security breach is no big deal?”

“Security breach, shemcurity breach.” He waved it off, fingers typing away at the keyboard. “If you stress everything that goes wrong you’ll never have time to live.”

“Those would be wise words coming from someone else’s mouth.”

Seven leaned back in his chair, beaming at his handler. “I have my moments.” He sat back up straight, grabbing his phone from the desk and shoving it into his pocket. “I’m going on a soda run. Want anything?”

“Bought some earlier.”

He stood up, kicking his chair back into place. “Then I’m grabbing dinner. Do you want anything?”

“You don’t eat dinner.”

He grabbed his keys. “Then I’m going to an undisclosed location for an undisclosed amount of time where snacks and food will be available, my true intentions known only to me. Do you want anything?”

Vanderwood looked up at him, giving him the same once-over he supposed most parents gave their older children. It had been a while since he had that look on his face, mild concern mixed with justified suspicion; the last time had been when he was still a kid.

Seven broke eye contact first. “I won’t be long,” he promised begrudgingly. “Three hours, tops. Just been inside too long is all.”

There was a long pause.

He sighed, looking back down at his file. “Bring back cream; I forgot some while I was out.”

Luciel was on the main road. The nearest gas station was an hour out. Luciel was not going to the nearest gas station. Luciel was going to the little grocery store an hour or so out from where she was. Luciel was also taking the long way and following all posted and implied traffic laws. Luciel wanted this to be a long trip. Luciel wanted it to be light out by the time he got back.

Twenty minutes in, he pulled over. Alone on a dark road in his silent cat, he pulled out his phone again and reread the message.

It had not changed. It was real.

Saeyoung knew she knew her position. He did not know if she knew the same way that he did what her role was, but he knew that she knew at least what she was meant to do. She acted the way she was meant to every time like clockwork, had said the same two things every time he had sent that first message. It had felt right every time. He knew in his bones that she had said exactly what she had been meant to every time from the very first reset. He knew how she texted. That was not her.

The original chatroom had been deleted. For whatever reason the first one always was. The profile of the new member was the same as it always was. A quick review of the CCTV footage— the same brief, unbothered look he always gave the footage at the beginning— showed that she was at Rika’s apartment. The person on the other end of the line, in theory, was her. All the same, he knew she was not.

He was meant to call now, at this time. He always did after she was done talking with Yoosung about LOLOL and his barely disguised predator-prey kink. He was never nervous to make the call— it was a stupid call, a joke call that did not and should not matter— but the thought of it going to you— not the woman sitting in his apartment but you, the real you— made him lightheaded. He barely knew how to process the idea that you might have access to the messenger. He could not even begin to comprehend how you could access the messenger directly considering your position; the idea was so far-fetched it bordered on unbelievable. But if you had…

He let his head fall against the steering wheel. The issue had gone from an abstract, quiet horror to a pressing matter of real consequence. You were not God, but you were closer to it than he was; you may not have created the universe, but your proxy and her presence did have a profound impact on their world. It was hard not to be taken aback by the prospect of interacting with a higher power. He barely knew how to process the confirmation of your existence— if this was a confirmation— let alone wrap his head around the mechanics of someone like you interacting with someone like him. You operated on a completely different plane than him. None of this should have been possible in the first place. How could he possibly—

Your profile picture showed up on his phone. You were calling him.

His thumb hovered over the accept button, fingers tingling. It was late. You should have been asleep. He should have been able to call you and not have you pick up. He should have been able to think this through further, to come up with a game plan.

He sank in his seat, pulling his headphones over his ears. He held his breath. He answered the call.

“Hello?”

Saeyoung had received his first pair of glasses eight years before. For most of his life, he had been largely unable to see anything further than his hand stretched out in front of him. He had been reluctant to see an optometrist when V had suggested it, had barely even noticed that he was unable to see because he had no other frame of reference. His brother, he had insisted, just had exceptionally good eyes; he could function perfectly fine without going through the trouble. V had insisted and had offered to pay for a sturdy pair out of pocket, and after much resistance, Saeyoung had agreed to it. Getting medical confirmation that he could not see was something of a shock, but not totally surprising. To see the world the way it was in pictures, on the other hand, to really know— to know in the basic sense as opposed to the intrinsic one— that trees were composed of intertwining limbs and leaves you could count as opposed to big masses of color had been revelatory. He had known what things looked like. He could point at a tree before he got glasses and identify it as such. But that was nothing compared to what he had when he could finally see.

It was about the same with you. He had known intrinsically what your voice was in the same way he knew that trees had leaves and branches: common sense mixed with grounded assumptions. He assumed— correctly— that your voice vaguely sounded like hers, that there was some element of you in her that attracted him. Your voice was not hers, though. It was similar in the way that all sweets taste sweet; her voice was so indistinct that your voice was similar by default. Your voice, to him, was what he had liked about her voice in a concentrated form, distinctly you and decided in its identity, and this concentrated dose of you— not the watered-down shit he got through her, but you, the person he was born to be in love with— was almost more than he could take.

You were talking. You were speaking English, mumbling obscenities about a button not working and how he must not be able to understand you because of the linguistic difference. “Maybe if I hang up—“

The words were out of his mouth before he could think what he was saying. “I speak English.”

Your laugh— nervous as it was— was yours and it was perfect. He had never really heard her laugh so he had little to compare it to, but the sound seemed to soothe an ache he had not known existed. “Holy— wow, that is good.” You cleared your throat. “You know, I wasn’t sure what you’d sound like, but you sound almost the same as you did before. It’s totally cool.”

A grin spread across his face. You liked his voice. You had told him that you liked his voice. “Thank you,” he said lamely. “I’m glad you like it.”

“That’s good. That you like that I like it, I mean.” You were cute. “I would be a bit bummed if you— well, not bummed, but I don’t know how I’d react if you disliked that I like your voice.”

At least you were nervous too. He had no idea why you of all people were nervous, but it made him feel less pathetic for being so on edge. “I don't know that I’ve ever been complimented on my voice before,” he admitted, trying to fall back into his usual rhythm. “But I don’t think many people would mind someone saying they like their voice.”

“I hope not.” There’s a cracking sound on your end. “It would be totally awkward if I called you something out of left field.”

He relaxed in his seat. As the shock of the situation wore off his brain kicked back into gear, the gaps in his mind beginning to fill themselves with this new information. He had never really considered the idea of meeting you, but he was unsurprised to find himself more comfortable like this– talking to you– than he had been speaking with the woman he had asked to be his wife in some distant memory. “Don’t worry; Vanderwood’s given me a thick skin over the years.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, not pointing out his slip up to his relief. “How long have you known her?”

He considered it. “Five, six years?”

“That’s a while.”

“Sort of.” He shrugged. “That’s twenty-five-point-two percent of my life give or take; in the grand scheme of things, that isn’t all that long.”

“In all fairness,” you point out, “it’s a bit unfair to count a few of those years; nobody remembers the first couple.”

He tutted. “Gotta disagree with you there. Just because I don’t have very many memories from when I was little doesn’t mean they shouldn’t count in the total.”

“Why not?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” He fiddled with the string of his hoodie. “I mean, just because someone gets blackout drunk doesn’t mean the time they spent blackout drunk didn't happen, right? And even if I don’t remember some stuff that’s happened,” he continued, a lump forming in his throat, “or I don’t have a good grasp of when things happened, they still happened, didn’t they? My memory can’t be the only thing that determines whether something’s happened, right?”

“Sure it is.” You did not seem to catch onto his mood switch; he was thankful for that. “I mean, photos can be doctored and videos can be faked and records altered; not to get philosophical on you, but what else can we trust besides our memories?” You sighed. “But then again, memories aren’t tangible and the human brain is famously unreliable, so maybe we’re all fucked and doomed to try to hold onto false memories and will them into being.”

He took a slow, deep breath. “Fair point.” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I wish I took more photos; I should ask V to show me how.” His eyes softened as he tried to swallow the bad taste in his mouth. “At least if I have physical photos they’d be harder to alter, right? It’d be nice to have confirmation that my memories are trustworthy.”

“I guess if you have a place to keep them safe.”

He had tried taking pictures a few reboots in on a polaroid camera he ordered online. He had taken a photo of her and Jaehee and kept it in his phone case. It had disappeared when she reintroduced herself a while later.

You cleared your throat. “What do I call you? Seven? Luciel? Or would you rather something else?”

‘Do you remember?’ That was the question you meant to ask, whether you and he held the same bond as he did with her. In truth, the memories he had of his time with her were only a bit more tangible than you had been. They were recollections of dreams he knew to be true, fantasies played out by another version of himself. He had little idea of what their relationship– the one between him and her and her and you– meant to you, but he felt as strange about her calling him Saeyoung as he did about you doing the same.

“Seven’s fine.” He forced himself to relax, smiling into the receiver. “Or Seven O’ Seven. Or Supreme Defender of Justice Seven Zero Seven if you want to show your reverence.”

Your smile sounded more natural than his. “How humble of you.”

“One of my many virtues.” He twisted his headphone cord around his finger, stopped. “What should I call you?”

You told him your name.

He tried to compare it to her name in his head. He did not know if he had forgotten it or if he had never known it in the first place. He repeated it back to you, committing it to memory.

You moved your mouth closer to the receiver, signing heavily into it. “How’d you come up with your name? Seven Zero Seven, I mean; what’s its significance?”

“Oh, loads of things.” He looked out the windshield into the night sky. “It’s an area code, an error code, an angel number, a pop culture reference– it’s got layers.”

It sounded like you were on a bed. “Walk me through them.”

He sat up a bit in his seat. “Seven Zero Seven is the area code for the northwesternmost part of California, which was where I stayed to learn English before I started school. Seven Zero Seven is also an uncommon error code that I struggled to get down, which I thought was funny because the code itself is an error code for partial data retrieval.” He swallowed. “Seven Zero Seven in numerology is supposed to be symbolic of spiritual awakening– you can guess why I liked that– and seeing it a lot means you’re supposed to take time to focus on yourself instead of your relationships with other people, which was…” He trailed off. “Well, you can guess.” He cleared his throat. “And Seven O’ Seven is a play on Double O Seven, aka James Bond, which is also pretty cool.”

Your voice was soft. “You thought of all that?”

“I had a very long car ride.”

You snorted.

“It’s true!” He crisscrossed his legs on the seat. “I was in a ‘93 Oldsmobile Cutlass with a broken air conditioner in late September; I was going nuts sitting in the car so long so I told myself to finally decide on a name before we got to San Mateo for something to do and all the pieces just sort of fell together.”

“I’m not doubting that it happened,” you insisted. “I’m just– it’s really in character, you know? Like, it’s such a you thing to do.”

“Is that an insult?”

“Not at all.” You sounded sincere. “I really like you; I like learning more about you.”

His cheeks warmed. “Don’t get too used to it,” he warned, half joking. “I’m a very secretive person.”

You were a dream. “It’s funny; I feel like I know you so well already.”

“Maybe you did in a past life.” He closed his eyes, trying and failing to picture you, to make you real in his head. “Maybe you do know me and I just don’t know you.”

“Do you want to know me?”

His heart ached. “More than anything.”

“You have my permission, if you’re looking for it.” You swallowed. “I don’t know if I’m worth knowing, but you’re more than welcome to if you want.”

“You are.” He hoped he did not sound as earnest as he was. “I promise, you are.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.”

“I am.”

Your answer was polite, if nervous. “That’s really sweet of you to say.”

His sighed. “You don’t believe me.”

“Not because I don’t trust you,” you insisted quickly. “I just don’t know how you’d make that call, you know?”

“I have good intuition,” he insisted.

You laughed. “Nobody’s intuition’s that good.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Sure I do. Besides–” You caught yourself, scrambled to recover. “Well, in any case, I don’t know how well your intuition can work if you can only talk to someone through a phone.”

“You’d be surprised.” He sat up straighter. “I bet I can tell loads about you from your online presence.”

You hummed in acknowledgment. “Lay it on me, then.”

He took a deep breath. “You’re… lonely,” he decided. “That’s why you showed up in our lives, why you haven’t left yet. Maybe not all the time, maybe not around people, but in some capacity, you feel alone or felt alone and you feel better being here than dealing with your own loneliness.” He swallowed. “But you’re kind. You care about things and people even when their problems don’t directly affect you. You have a good sense of right and wrong and try to make do with the choices you’re given, even if they aren’t great.”

A pause, then, “You make me sound like a better person than I am.”

He smiled. “I have a feeling you’ll have more options than you’re used to this time around,” he teased. “If I’m right– which, not to brag, but I usually am– that means you’ll have plenty of opportunity to prove me wrong if you want.”

“I guess so.” Your voice sounded softer now. “I hope I’m not too much of a disappointment.”

“You won’t. You aren’t.” He checked the time. “Are you falling asleep?”

“A little.” You yawned. “But I’ve got to pay every time I make a phone call so I want to keep this going as long as possible.”

He rolled his eyes. “Go to sleep,” he urged. “If it’s that much trouble, I’ll call you, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

“But then you need to pay for the call.”

“I could stop working today and never have to work a day in my life; I can afford to call you.”

It was hard to tell if the worry he heard was real or not. “You promise?”

“Cross my heart.” He fixed his glasses. “Before I leave, though, can you understand what we type alright? I think I might have installed a translator a while ago for Yoosung to use to study but I don’t remember if it actually worked all that well.”

You hummed contentedly. “Works like a dream,” you promised sleepily. “Google Translate can eat its heart out.”

He chuckled. “Good, good.” He picked his phone back up, thumb hovering over the call button. “Well,” he supposed, “this is where I leave you.”

“So it is.”

A pause. His finger stayed where it was.

You snorted. “You are so you.” There was a rustling of blankets on your end. “Goodnight, Seven.”

“You too. Oh,” he started, “and one last thing?”

“Yeah?”

His face flushed. “Thank you,” he said. “For showing up, I mean. It means a lot.”

He hoped he did not imagine the affection he heard in your voice. “It means more to me, I promise.”

You hung up.

It took him a second to get back on the road.

A while ago, Luciel had taken the time to sit down and really, objectively consider his situation. He had come to the conclusion that if he were to assign a genre to his life he would call it an existential horror. You were an entity greater than himself whose whims he was held victim and whose intentions were barely understood. His limited understanding nearly crippled him, leaving him alone and stuck in a constant haze of half-formed memories he had no way of grounding. In any other life, he would have hated you. In any other circumstance, with any other person, he probably would wished for your death so he could at least have the chance to hold onto something permanent.

But he was not alone anymore.

You remembered. He had you.

And if the price of having you in any capacity was for him to live the way he did, he would.

[bluejay-writes]

MysticTober Day 13: Decipher This

Rating: T Prompt: Vanderwood/MC || Secret WordCount: 1263 Summary: The new member of the RFA seems familiar somehow. Author's Notes: This fic is either a massive troll or a Chapter 1, so... let me know if you want to see more of this one.

Of all the jobs that Vanderwood had done for the Agency over the years, they had to admit they were happiest being Zero Seven’s handler.  It wasn’t the most glamorous job, wasn’t necessarily using their best skills most of the time, but it also kept them decently out of danger, and afforded them the luxury of breaking rules they thought were garbage.

They hadn’t really thought too hard about the Agency’s rules about interpersonal relationships.  On the surface it made perfect sense that attachments were forbidden, given that if a job went bad you might have to completely erase yourself and start new somewhere else entirely leaving them behind. But it could also mean that they were used against you.  Of course, Vanderwood knew that the people most likely to use a partner against them were the Agency themselves, but it still stood as a good enough reason, until they started being Zero Seven’s handler.

Zero Seven was an enigma.  They’d started being his handler a little over eight years ago, when he was just a bright kid who would do just about anything the agency asked him to do.  Study abroad? Great!  Track down this person with the explicit explanation that it was for them to be take out? Done.  Over time, in private he had mellowed the way most of the agency techs had.  He did his work on his own schedule, and very rarely did he need to be reminded to get things done before the deadline. Usually he only got behind if it had something to do with that charity group he was for some unknown reason allowed to stay a part of even after joining the agency. Around them, he was still the jokester kid that he’d been when just twelve.  Vanderwood wished the melancholy hacker was the fake version of Zero Seven… but they knew better.

Vanderwood knew that if someone were disappeared for any reason, Zero Seven could find them, alive if possible, but he’d find proof of death if not. And so, the rules from the agency about attachments were revealed to be what they truly were - yet another way to keep a choke-hold on their agents. As long as the ties were sanctioned by the Agency (like that charity group) or kept secret from them, they were safe.

Most of the time, the only potential tie Vanderwood cared about was their charge.  They thought about Zero Seven like the younger brother they’d always wanted.  They knew no family before the agency, but… they liked to think they had a tiny one, now.  Zero Seven seemed to care about the charity group, and occasionally he’d wonder aloud (usually when he thought Vanderwood couldn’t hear him) about how ‘Saeran’ was doing.  So of course Vanderwood noticed when he received the improbable floppy disc of photos of a less-trained version of himself - clearly a twin brother - that Vanderwood understood.  Zero Seven had sacrificed his relationship with his twin in order to keep said twin safe and happy.  They’d taken a private look at the disc, and no matter how they looked at it, all of those photos were taken on the same day.  The boy was wearing contact lenses and his hair had recently been dyed. If it wasn’t for the fact that Zero Seven needed glasses, they might not have thought to look for the contacts - but they were colored. The boy in the photo had green eyes, and there were telltale marks from hair dye along his hairline and the tips of his ears.  How had Zero Seven missed this? Wishful thinking?

Something had happened to his twin, and Vanderwood was determined to find out what it was, even if they had to enlist help to do it.  Clearly the agency was complicit - the disk of photos had come from one of the charity group. They would have to look outside the agency for help.  They’d crossed paths with people from other agencies as well as independents, a number of whom could probably find out the information that they wanted to know. The best choice was the agent hiding in plain sight as an investigative journalist; Cypher Jones. If anyone could figure this out, it would be her.

Seven knew that Vanderwood was hiding something. Every agent had secrets, but lately they would come back agitated about something and an agitated Vanderwood never did bode well for his ability to slack off. Really any emotion out of Vanderwood was a bad sign.  So at least his work was getting done in a timely manner, since he didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Vanderwood’s ire.

On the bright side, they hadn’t gotten on his case about being in the RFA chat so much, so he’d been able to spend more time with his friends.  He really did think of them as friends, even though he wasn’t supposed to get attached to people as per the agency rules.  But if Vanderwood wasn’t complaining even after all these years, well, he was going to run with it.

But that led him to today, when he was out of work to get done and everyone was in chat, which was awesome, but Vanderwood came in tense.

“What is it, Vandy?”

“Don’t call me that. It’s just that I lost contact with someone.”

“I can—“

“No.”

“But if it’s someone important—”

“You can’t.”

“Ugh, fine.”

It wasn’t another agent. There was no way, or they would have used everything at their disposal agency-wise to keep track of them.  Which meant. Vanderwood was hiding a friend.  Seven wanted to tease them to death, but he couldn’t. He just couldn’t.  Having confirmation that Vanderwood was hiding an illicit relationship (be it romantic or platonic, it didn’t matter to Seven) was everything. But the fact that they’d lost contact took it off the table as a teasing subject. He’d just have to try to get Vanderwood to talk to him about it later.  For the time being they’d settled on the couch in his office, and were tapping away at their phone.  Seven went back to the RFA chat, only to realize there was someone new in it.  Someone unauthorized.

“Holy shit.” He said, pulling up the app code and tapping away to dig into the user database and figure out where they came from.

“What, Zero Seven?” Vanderwood asked from the couch, and Seven knew they were probably expecting his usual silliness.

“There’s someone new in the RFA Chat.”

“Huh.” Vanderwood said. “New recruit?”

“Well that’s just the thing. No. I think they hacked in.”

His fingers were flying over the keys, and he even told the chat that his fingers were trembling as he hacked.  Not true, but they were going fast enough that no one could tell if he was lying, excepting maybe Vanderwood, who saw everything.

Vanderwood had perked up behind him, watching his screens, which was eerie, but he was pretty used to it. 

“Huh, she’s in Rika’s old apartment.” Seven said, even as Vanderwood stood and came over to… well, he’d normally have said inspect his work, but it seemed like Vanderwood was just standing there for moral support. Weird, but not unwanted.

Seven clicked a few times and brought the camera feeds from Rika’s apartment up onto one of his side monitors. There, standing looking down at her cell phone with her long brown hair half-obscuring her confused expression, was a girl.

“What?!” Behind him, Vanderwood seemed to choke on nothing and their phone clattered to the floor. 

“What is Cypher doing there?”

[juminweek2019]

Hello! I apologize for asking in this way. It's just that for reasons I don't understand, my phone refused to allow me to leave a comment, but I really need to ask you something about Jumin Week. Can you explain a little more in detail? I sincerely apologize, it's just the first time I want to participate in this. So there will be a schedule for the week and a flower will be tied to each day? and we will need to do something with Jumin and the association with this flower?

Hi! It's not that difficult, yes there will be an schedule for the week that goes from 5/10 (Jumin's Birthday) to 11/10. Each day is going to have as a prompt a flower with its symbolism, I choose the bouquets from the RFA for time reasons, but you can go with the flowers and the meaning of your choosing, the prompts are merely there to serve as inspiration

Most people participate with fics, so let's say for day 3 of Jumin Week the prompt of the day are white roses, which symbolize "loyalty, pure love, commitment". You could choose to write a fic about Jumin and these traits or one, or draw Jumin with roses, or journaling, poems, a bouquet, whatever. Or you can say "nahh, for day 3 I choose red roses because they symbolize X and I want to write about that" and that'll be fine as well. We always encourage people to make the prompts their own. Some people combine them with other events like mystictober or the other about Halloween and that's fine too.

And there's always some time left to late submissions for those who felt some days behind too 👍.

I think that's all 🤔, I'll make a post with details about Jumin Week after getting some free time from college, but let me know if you still have doubts 🙂