#finding a way to avoid polluting the air in the first place is far more overtly nefarious than developing a super soldier serum

[theodore-sallis]

“Cry of the Native!” Fear (Vol. 1/1970), #16.

Writer: Steve Gerber; Penciler: Val Mayerik; Inker: Sal Trapani; Colorist: Petra Goldberg; Letterer: Artie Simek

[eusion]

hi!! i love love love your stories... can I request a meet-cute she fell first he fell harder situation with k, please!🥹🖤 tysm <3

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪the last train at 25 o'clock ⌒☆

pairing ⌒☆ k x reader

word count ⌒☆ 1.2k

note ⌒☆ thank u sm anon! that means so much genuinely...... this req really sparked my creativity tonight i had to do it so quick!!! i hope u enjoy &lt;333 this is not proofread btw..

the last train leaves the platform leaving two people behind

the echo of the bell sinks into the night

if we hold hands and look up at the starry sky, you and i will fly alone through the night

rapid puffs of air from your labored breathing can be seen in the cold of the night, the fast steps faltering as you become exhausted from sprinting to your local train station. you severely underestimated the time it’d take you to get from your apartment to the station, leaving your hair in a nest and your scarf nearly falling off of your shoulders. the sound of your luggage rolling against the pavement becomes quiet as you come to a halt in front of the empty train tracks. your eyes dart quickly from your phone to the sign above that says 'train has departed'. you can barely catch your breath, not letting yourself get a break as you mentally beat yourself up for your poor time management, cursing under your breath. 

"i knew i should have left earlier..."

the sounds of your own battle with yourself completely made you deaf to the other pair of footsteps running towards the same tracks. you look up through your eyelashes, not expecting to see such a tall man right next to you. 

his cheeks were flush, breath not as heavy as yours was, hair falling nicely against his forehead with some strands blowing oh so softly. he goes through the same routine: checking his phone, looking up at the sign and then mentally cursing at himself.

it was only a few seconds later he glances over, finally noticing you as you both bare your own luggage, sharing the same fuck up that could of been avoided.

a smile grows on the man's face, finally realizing how ridiculous this whole situation is. his cheeks lift up and his plump lips even out to frame his white teeth. 

his head tilts, furrowing his brows as he opens his mouth. 

"looks like we're stuck here.. until the next train at least"

"i think this was the last train.."

you respond, head hanging low as you shuffle your feet together. you're not sure why you're doing this. 

the feeling of shame from missing your train?

being nervous about talking to this random handsome man?

your head picks up at the sound of a large sigh. the man looks like he's about to lose it... his laughs becoming more frequent. hysterical, almost.

"hah, i live two hours away... no way i can commute back, and this late?"

he finds himself walking towards a bench as if he's given up on everything he's ever worked towards. your legs follow suit as you place yourself down right next to him, leaving a little room to breathe.

when you looked up at the sky the stars shined the brightest that night, planes blinking out of your line of sight. you've never seen this kind of view from your apartment window, stars always being clouded by the city lights that polluted it. maybe tonight was supposed to happen.

"i can stay here with you if you would like... i wouldn't want to keep you waiting out in the cold by yourself"

your tone was soft and quiet, your fingers fidgeting at your knit sweater. god knows that out of the both of you, you were definitely the coldest sitting out here. how you would kill to just take the next fifteen minutes walking home to the warmth of your room than sit out here for however long. of course, something, or rather someone, begged you to stay.

"that'd be nice. spending it with someone is far better than alone"

"what's your name?"

"yudai, you?"

"y/n"

your conversation was exchanged through several short sentences and soft sighs. at this point your ears were threatening to freeze off of your head. you kept your smile wide and you suddenly cared about how your hair fell against your face as you were talking to him. 

-

yudai decided to call his friend to come pick him up from the station while you two were exchanging conversations. all you could think about was how you had two hours left together, which did not feel like nearly enough.

you kept your hands in your pockets, filled with hand warmers that you brought yourself plus the ones yudai gave to you on hand. you already know it's going to take you an arm and a leg to get you to throw these things away once you get home.

'do i like a stranger?'

a crush seemed like a better term. you didn't want to label your feelings so quickly, anyone would feel butterflies for yudai. but this moment seemed too niche and intimate for you to not feel a single thing for him. 

"how long until your friend gets here?"

"want to get rid of me that badly?"

you scoff, bumping at his shoulder playfully. 

"of course"

"about forty-five minutes"

it was interesting seeing how easy you could get along with yudai in such a short amount of time. the night seemed endless to the both of you. watching airplanes fly away and listening to the sounds of the occasional car driving past felt like something out of a movie. 

you didn't want it to end, and neither did he.

-

twenty minutes fly by, your head now comfortably resting on his shoulder as he rants about his own life back in his hometown. your silent nods and hums are appreciated by him, he knows you're exhausted at this point. 

god also knows you would have invited him back to your apartment in a heartbeat if you could, spending these cold nights under the warmth of your heated blankets. 

"thank you for spending your time here with me.i really appreciate it, y/n"

quiet hums turned into soft breathing on your end, eyes fluttered shut with your lips slightly parted. 

his cold, white hands maneuver your loose hair around your ear. yudai was freezing, even with you right next to him. all of his hand warmers made their way over to your pockets, his own feeling barren and empty. softly, his head leans on top of yours, careful not to disturb your rest. 

he looks back up at the sky, the moon shining the brightest he's ever seen, light stretching over the pitch black like a panorama. it feels like he's reenacted this scene a thousand times over in his head. oh, how he wishes he could have more than two hours with you. 

his heart is beating the hardest at this point, afraid it might wake you up. 

“ten more minutes.." he mumbles after checking on the text notification from his friend. 

his head still leans comfortably against you as he begins to rest his own eyes. the hand warmers have turned cold at this point with the only thing keeping yudai from freezing was the scarf shared around both of your necks. his body scrunches in towards you, wanting to spend these last ten minutes in a shared silence. yudai is only slightly worried about his friend seeing him cuddled up with a random woman, worried that his friend might think he's the creep.

minutes began to feel like seconds when his friend texts him again, "five minutes".

but he doesn't bother to open his eyes, hoping to bask a bit more in this moment. his chest puffs up, slowly breathing out before letting out a whisper. 

"let's meet each other here again, y/n."

[axvwriter]

Random late night thoughts

It’s way too easy to mess up my sleep schedule and also annoyingly tricky to fix. So I’m failing to sleep right now.

Bobo, having lived in an underground kingdom and has only had very limited visits to the surface world, isn’t aware of a lot of animals. She knows of rats, bats, moles, goats, and mostly burrowing animals along with most rodents.

She’s one of the few people of her kingdom that knows how to swim. More importantly she knows how to cave-dive. Not many types of fish live in water caves. So far upon googling I have found that there’s blind cavefish that actually can sense light and there’s some catfish.

Bobo is rather clueless when it comes to a majority of the animal kingdom. Yet her kingdom also has dangerous variations that don’t roam on the surface world. Giant bats, moles, and lizards that all fervently hunt down humans when coming across them.

Her kingdom is technologically advanced compared to other civilizations. Her scuba gear only retains an hour of breathable air, but its only a mouth piece along with the ability to refill itself when leaving the water.

I imagine that they don’t use gas in any form since enclosed spaces like caves would suffer greatly from air pollution. They’ve developed technology that has never relied on anything that can risk their air quality. I don’t know how much this would affect flames but I imagine they have an alternative to open flames and use some sort of enclosed heat? Like an electric stove? Thus I contemplate if fire would be scary.

I looked up the color ranges lizards, moles, and bats have to try to see if there’s any colors this underground kingdom should avoid wearing. I learned lizards have one more cone than humans and thus see more colors. So I guess in ways of fashion the kingdom may avoid heavily patterned things, anything that could draw unwanted attention should they move in the presence of a predator.

With mushrooms growing everywhere, a majority of the kingdom is unbearably hot and humid. Yet with these humans living for so long underground I imagine they have some slight differences compared to regular humans.

A higher heat and humidity tolerance, but at the cost of being all the more sensitive to the cold. I’m considering a majority of tech servers to be kept in a freezing cave to combat heat that tech naturally emits especially when overworked. But considering its a technologically advanced kingdom that may not be necessary.

These humans have slightly better hearing along with night vision. There’s not very many places that bring natural light in. When the first human moved underground there wasn’t technology such as flashlights. They may even be a bit more near-sighted and can’t see as far as regular humans.

Which makes me realize its possible that Bobo can’t see the stars at night. I still have yet to see what I can find through google.

They’re all more likely to be spatially aware especially since long range/shooting weapons are frowned upon. If anyone were to miss their shot there’s a chance of causing a cave-in.

I like to think braille is commonly used in the Mycelind kingdom, but with being tech-advanced I’m uncertain if that would be used. I don’t think they’re advanced enough for screens to form braille and understand to scroll down and form more braille.

I’d like to think they’re advanced when it comes to care for disabilities and transitioning. I’m thinking perhaps blindness similar to cavefish is a gene that runs through these humans, but I’m uncertain how reasonable of an evolutionary trait that would be.

There’s ramps instead of stairs, roads are smooth and upkeeped, text to speech programs are common and rarely face issues. Perhaps even that medical technology has advanced enough that scars heal faster?

When it comes to modesty, nipples and underregions are expected to be covered but that’s about it. After all with how muggy it is, it’s impractical to expect anyone to cover their ankles or even wear layers.

Maybe these humans have even grown slightly tougher skin so they aren’t roughed up as badly whenever rock climbing happens. Bobo, not only part of her defense training but to also help with her desire to explore, knows how to climb rocky surfaces without a harness or any equipment really.

It’s more common to use a motorbike than a car for long distance travel unless shipping cargo. Cities are made so everything is within walking distance while providing sound-proofing so everyone can still have their quiet abodes. Motorbikes are made bouncy/flexible as they’re used to go off road and into places where infrastructure hasn’t been developed.

Bobo uses hers to often speed about, racing off of small cliffs and the such for the adrenaline thrills. Her care takers may fret over her reckless driving but she’ll go mad if all she ever feels adrenaline wise is the fear of being eaten alive.

Due to their being man-eating beasts I imagine it’s considered poor taste to use any eating/drinking-related innuendos/jokes. So much so that any Mycelind citizen would misinterpret any such notions as a direct threat to their wellbeing.

So now I imagine Bobo being transported to Twisted Wonderland.

(Spoilers below of different English events up until port fest and books except for book 7 so if for some reason you’re reading this and haven’t completed book 6 and/or dont want event spoilers, time to scroll past/stop reading.)

She sees Grim closer to a mutated weasel or ferret because she doesn’t know what a cat is. She has no clue what lions, hyenas, and even wolves are. Octopus and moray eels? Maybe, eels do like to hide so perhaps she’s come across some. Perhaps she even knows eels as one of the reasons to wear gloves when diving. Perhaps she doesn’t see them and places her hand too close to their hiding spot and thus gets often bitten by them. Maybe there’s some rare octopus cave variation she’s spotted once or twice. Depending on this and if I decide her kingdom has such animals, maybe even once an Octopus tried to snatch the sword off her hip due to its shine.

Yet when it comes to most of Floyd’s nicknames she’s rather lost. What is a crab? A mackerel? Or even a beakfish? Maybe even what is a shrimp? It all depends on what I think may reasonably live in underwater caves in this fantasy-sci-fi world I’m making.

Perhaps Jade has a high interest in her. Any mushrooms he shows her and she’s ready to lecture him on how to care for it! Whenever he offers a mushroom dish to her, she’s inspecting the mushrooms herself to make sure it’s safe to consume.

When Grim picked a mushroom and asked if it was safe, she answered maybe it was and tried to get a look herself. Before she could take a proper look, Floyd’s already flinging it. When Grim brings it back, again Bobo is kept from identifying it herself. Yet as Floyd chases Grim, she chases with him. It’s safer to mark it as dangerous than to assume it’s safe.

With the magitool hammer and a whole dorm mostly to herself, she makes herself a gym room along with a mushroom growing room. Her guest lounge has a lot of fake mushroom elements to it. Once Leona finds out that the giant plush mushrooms on the wall is actually a hidden sofa, maybe he tries to claim the spot for himself. Though maybe he gives up when realizing why no one sees Bobo when she’s on that seat is simply because of how short she is. He can’t hide there as well as she can.

Bobo goes to Sam and often asks for different mushroom spores that don’t exist in this world. He may scour but can he really have them in stock when they’re from another world?

Bobo who refuses to let herself have a normal sleep schedule for once simply because she has to be ready for when she goes back home. Surely that’ll happen soon, right?

Crowley who unknowingly scares her when he calls her a beast tamer for simply getting some students to cooperate. Afraid that the more helpful she is here, the less likely Crowley will help send her home. But if she causes trouble what would stop him from throwing her out to fend on her own? Bad press? Are the laws and regulations here so lax that gossip mags would promote such a story? Why would anyone outside of campus believe she’s from another world? Even if he doesn’t throw her out, he could cut off her allowance. Would telling him more about herself help motivate Crowley to help her or simply be walking herself into a ransom situation?

Will the Duke prevent a new ruler from being chosen while her whereabouts are unknown? Will the council listen to him despite her not reinstating him as Grand Duke? With no grand duke in place will the council have the Duke take over?

Bobo who greets Jack in the morning one day. She almost joins him in his daily jogs until she hears he won’t slow down for her. Even if he doesn’t mean it, she refuses to hurt his own training. She has the stamina but training to wield mostly a warhammer has kept her from getting all that fast.

Bobo who doesn’t need convincing to save Idia. She has to be the strongest in order to not only protect herself but protect her citizens. But these aren’t her citizens, yet she finds herself attached to the school. She won’t let anyone die if she has a say in it. Yet when she sees Idia dressed so similarly to Baentu the first time she saw that idol on stage, she can’t help but see why Eliza would impulsively choose him out of everyone. His hair may be aflame, but it doesn’t scare her. This world has changed how she views mages and maybe even fire.

Bobo who cries in rage when NRC lost to RSA because NRC is her school. Only Grim hears her rant about how a childish play has no right to be compared to Vil’s show because her performing friends are too far away to hear her. Bobo who never brings it up when realizing they’re already adjusting to their loss. Bobo who can’t help but hate Neige out of her favoritism and bias to NRC. Bobo who doesn’t see how Neige is possibly compared to Vil when they’re both in their own separate realms of beauty.

But then wouldn’t it be fun if I made it where Neige develops a crush on Bobo when running into her one day. They’re both off campus and it’s clear he’s having a hard time with the tears he’s fighting. Bobo had found the secluded spot first but gives it up to him as she doesn’t mind exploring more. Neige who falls for her simply because she didn’t squeal or barrage him for a photo or autograph. Bobo who didn’t stay to comfort him because she’s still petty about VDC. Neige who falls because like Vil he’s had an abnormal upbringing and doesn’t quite grasp how people should interact. Neige who’s overwhelmed by his fame at the moment is finding himself im awe of someone leaving him be instead of acting like a rabid fan.

Vil who later finds out after VDC Bobo’s talent with music. Who nearly bites her head off when learning this entire time she thought his song was rather generic but didn’t say anything because she assumed he knew what he was doing along with thinking there wasn’t enough time to commission a good song. Vil who maybe relaxes a bit when realizing her tastes in music maybe means she has no right to judge his song and maybe he does know what he’s doing. Does he though? He’s an actor and model but I don’t recall him necessarily having experience with live dance performances though he did weave some in for the fairy gala runway.

Lilia who enters the culinary crucible again with Bobo. Bobo who’s never cooked before and burns her hand. Lilia who rushes to her aid and suddenly all she can think about is Beau her caretaker. Beau who hates the pink streaks in his hair. Beau who always gave in to her puppy-dog eyes when she was little and grab desserts from the kitchen for her. Beau who would take her to Baentu so she could learn from the idol. Beau who hated when she wanted to explore because he’s not combat trained. Beau who’s one of her caretakers that decided to stay with her until she’s twenty due to her parents’ passing. Beau who helped her with her nightmares by tucking her into bed with stuffed animals. Beau who wouldn’t let her into the kitchen because he believed it to be too dangerous for her. Lilia who thinks her tears are simply from the pain as she hasn’t told him about Beau.

Paulie who turns Bobo into her seven-year-old self and ditches without explaining anything as he assumes she’s just any other NRC student. Bobo who has her seven-year-old memory and is about to panic until she sees Lilia. Lilia who she runs to and calls Beau until she sees the differences. Then she asks if he’s one of Beau’s siblings, recalling the one time she snuck out and mistook Beau’s brother for him. Lilia who gladly helps Bobo until Paulie’s magic wears off and she recalls everything. Lilia who laughs when little Bobo starts an argument with Sebek over how loud he is.

Little Bobo who wont leave Trey alone, pleading for sweets. Bobo who outruns ADeuce while on a sugar rush. Bobo who gleefully poses for Cater’s photos. Bobo who asks Cater to show her her parents account so she can see one of the many photos her Ueue took of her asleep on her parents’ laps while they worked. Cater who falters as Bobo grows upset when he can’t do that. Cater who distracts Bobo by introducing her to the croquet animals. Bobo who’s fine with the hedgehogs but hides behind Cater when it comes to the flamingos. Riddle who’s startled when his tea time is interrupted by Bobo crashing on his lap. Bobo who shocks them all when Ace shows her a magic trick and she responds by crying fearfully. Bobo who runs away from Heartslabyul unable to explain all she knows about mages is that they’re evil warmongers who often kidnap people from her sister kingdom.

Little Bobo who doesn’t bat an eye at the Savanaclaw students that has animal ears and tails. Bobo who upon seeing Leona napping thinks it’s nap time and thus plops onto his lap. Bobo who cries for Lilia when Leona snarls at her for doing so. Ruggie who snatches Bobo and hands her off to Jack. Jack carries her away to find Lilia just for Floyd to snatch her. Floyd who grins menacingly to see if little Bobo is just as fearless as regular Bobo. Little Bobo who giggles and tries to match his grin. Jack who’s left in the dust as Floyd runs off with Bobo. Floyd who’s now disappointed that upon showing her to Jade, Jade has started a conversation about mushrooms. Bobo who treats it like a pop quiz and dutifully shares her knowledge with Jade. Azul who’s about to complain that they can talk mushrooms later until he sees what has happened to Bobo. Bobo who instantly brightens at seeing Azul and holds her arms out towards him. Bobo who exclaims his hair is fluffy. Azul who refuses to pick her up until Floyd grabs her to help bring her to him. Bobo who now thinks they’re playing a game and willingly chases Azul when placed down. Azul who curses his weak stamina and sits down as Bobo stands there not knowing what to do now. Azul who tries to think of what to do with her until she gasps and tells him his eyes are super duper pretty. Floyd who jokingly asks about his own eyes just to be awarded with Bobo saying his eyes are really really cool. Jade who asks about himself and causes Bobo to gain a concentrated face. Bobo who decides to ask if they swapped eyeballs or ate funny shrooms for their eyes to be identically mirrored like that.

Little Bobo who gets entrusted to Kalim so Lilia can take care of something. Kalim who eagerly brings her to Scarabia just to cause unintentional stress to Jamil. Bobo who’s really happy and matching Kalim’s energy until she sees an elephant. Bobo who instantly tenses up silently, clutching herself as she stays as still as possible, tears threatening to spill. Kalim who tries to bring her closer to show her that it’s okay. Bobo who grips him tightly and starts silently sobbing from fear, trying to lean as far away as she can. Jamil who rescues Bobo from Kalim and decides it’s better for her mental wellbeing for her to leave Scarabia.

Rook who tries to bring Bobo to Vil just for Epel to try to run interference. Epel who ends up being brought to Vil as well. Vil who tries to get Bobo and Epel to do some beauty stuff just for Bobo to get the most sullen look on her face. Bobo who asks if Vil is related to Petunia and upon hearing he isn’t, throws an absolute tantrum. Bobo who argues with Vil that she doesn’t wanna and wants to play and eat sweets. Bobo who then stomps on his foot and runs away before Vil can decide if having such an argument with her will accomplish anything.

Bobo who eyes Ortho’s head wearily when seeing him. Bobo who gathers some courage to go ask Ortho if the fire is hurting him and if he needs some water. Ortho who explains then decides to watch over her. Ortho who takes her to the board game clubroom where Idia happens to be. Bobo who asks Ortho if Idia makes his hair for fun too. Idia who instantly wishes he sent the tablet instead upon hearing his hair mentioned. Bobo who goes up to Idia and tells him he choose a pretty fire color. Bobo who wants to try out board games when seeing them. Ortho who takes the time to explain them and tries to rope Idia into playing with them. Idia who is trying to leave unnoticed. Bobo who stares at Idia for a while before deciding she should leave. Idia who blames himself because he blames everything on himself. Ortho who follows Bobo and asks why she left. Bobo who says Idia is shy and Constance told her it’s best to give shy people space.

Lilia who tries to feed Bobo her cooking. Bobo who tries one bite before telling Lilia how terrible it tastes. Lilia who hands Bobo to Silver whenever he falls asleep simply because he finds it adorable that her response is to sleep too. Malleus who tries to avoid Bobo in worry of scaring her. Bobo who treats Malleus like anyone else. Lilia who encourages the interaction by having Bobo deliver something to Malleus. Bobo who happily says hi to Malleus and hands him Lilia’s note. Bobo who ends up having tea with the Diasminia group, glaring at Sebek who glares at her. Sebek lectures her when she tries to talk to Malleus. Bobo who huffs and corrects Malleus that royalty are allowed to talk to each other like equals. Bobo who then adds that she wishes Malleus was Petunia so she didn’t have to have tea with her. Sebek who tries to argue Malleus deserves more respect and he will become king of the world or something like that. Bobo who grumpily looks at him then spits her tea at his face. Lilia who’s laughing while Silver tries to gently reprimand her while Sebek is trying to do mental math that he’s superior to a child and thus doesn’t need to retaliate. Malleus who decides to give Bobo a disappointed look to see how she reacts. Bobo who pulls her puppy-dogs eyes out and hugs him, pleading that he forgives her so she doesn’t have to go have tea with Petunia. Sebek who is about to lose it until Silver asks her to apologize to him. Bobo who looks at Sebek with a grumpy face and hugs Malleus tightee. Bobo who says Sebek’s ruder than Petunia. Lilia prompts Bobo to apologize by saying Malleus wants all his friends to get along. Bobo who gives Malleus puppy-dog eyes again as she mutters that Sebek started it. The silence agrees that Sebek did start it.

Little Bobo who seems like she’s warming up to Sebek when later he mentions being hungry and she offers him her food. It doesn’t quite feel like it when said food is Lilia’s cooking. Sebek who eats it up because Lilia-sama surely isn’t pranking him this time. Bobo who actually stares at him in awe for eating it. Bobo who still fights verbally with him whenever he’s too loud and tries to get her to grovel before Malleus. Malleus who misses regular Bobo because little Bobo seems so entitled plus she can’t keep herself awake for their usual nighttime strolls.

Bobo who upon returns to normal tries apologizing to Sebek just to have another argument about his shouting. Bobo who doesn’t try apologizing to Vil because she’s certain he’ll have her apologize by doing beauty stuff.

Bobo who raises the question that wont they all be seen as suspicious at the gala regardless of fairy dust simply because it’s attended and hosted by small fae. Leona who jokes that Bobo wouldn’t stand out at all. The only person shorter than Bobo at NRC is Ortho. Vil who places a bucket of water on Bobo’s head, certain she’ll struggle, just to be flabbergasted when she doesn’t spill a single drop. Vil who questions why she doesn’t usually keep such posture. Bobo who tries to explain it shortly by saying she simply doesn’t want to.

Bobo who keeps from snapping at Vil and calmly makes it to the bathroom before breaking down. Bobo who nearly vomits knowing now that Vil lied to her about her being able to have those sweets and poisoned them. Bobo who wants to scream at Vil on how wrong this is. Bobo who wants to tell him how he should have had the junk food sent back to their dorms so it wouldn’t be wasted. Bobo who wants to argue that sleeping like that on the floor would only worsen ADeuce’s skills and keep them from progressing for at least a day. Bobo who wants to argue that her and Grim aren’t performing and thus shouldn’t have their food cursed. Bobo who wants Vil to imagine what would have happened if Kalim somehow got a bite. Bobo who only didn’t take a bit because she didn’t want to risk the sugar keeping her up. Bobo who wishes she could tell Vil she already has to fight not getting ill at the idea of eating sweets but is so sure he’d use it against her. Bobo who leaves the bathroom calmly because now she’s scared of Vil. Bobo who refuses to be seen as weak in any way least it be used to kill her. Bobo who struggles to sleep because Vil could have used something worse than paralyzation and she would have mistaken the taste to be another difference between the cooking here and the cooking from her home.

Bobo who eventually gets Vil to stop trying to maximize her beauty oh so often as it slowly sinks in that she’s content with her looks and that maximizing her beauty isn’t something she cares to do.

Bobo who flusters when Vil gives her a kiss on the cheek. Bobo who doesn’t say anything about what it means in her culture. Bobo who stays silent because she doesn’t want to distract anyone. They can’t afford distractions right now. Bobo who nearly forgets all about it until everything’s calm and Rook brings it up. Rook who Bobo has let him ask so many things of her. Rook who has learned she’s used to a lot of stuff being publicly known about her along with telling him stuff about her kingdom helps a little with the homesickness. Rook who finds it fascinating what he’s able to glean about her from in-between the lines. Rook who can’t help but wonder what questions will give more insight to the version of herself she keeps hidden from everyone. Rook who also finds amusement in how easy it can be to make her blush. Rook who couldn’t help but tease her over her reaction to Vil’s kiss. Rook who is surprised to learn her blush was not out of some hidden feelings starting to bloom for Vil but because of a small culture clash. Bobo who shares that kisses on the cheek that are within certain closeness to the lips are usually seen as a way to imply romantic desire. Though it can also be a casual friendly kiss or a casual kiss between lovers, she’s just… never received such a kiss before and couldn’t help jumping to the thought of the meaning she’s often been told for it which is to imply wanting to start a romantic relationship.

Rook who tells Vil that cheek kisses are proposals in Bobo’s culture. Vil who goes and asks Bobo for confirmation incase Rook is playing it up to sound more dramatic. Bobo who laughs and half-jokingly says it is for royalty. Bobo then telling him she knew he meant it in a platonic way though does ask that next time she kiss her nose as that’s typically more of a friendship kiss in her culture. Vil who jokes that she has to earn it. Bobo who yanks him down, a habit she’s gained when dealing with taller people, and plants a kiss on his nose. Vil who sputters and complains while trying to ignore what she said to him on their flight home.

Vil who distraught about his youth then shared how he was faking it about being the fairest of them all. Bobo who takes her gloves off to gently cradle his face to tell him quietly that he’s still elegant and beautiful. Bobo who hugs him as he cries about all the things he’s missed out on. Bobo who releases him to let him cry. Bobo who puts her gloves back on and holds Grim. Grim who lets her. Leona who stares at Bobo when she somehow falls asleep despite Vil’s wailing. Vil who doesn’t notice probably. Bobo who managed by with napping at the safe spot but is horribly drained by all the lightning magic that grazed her upon her helping lift the staff. Bobo who keeps Grim close as she feared for his safety. Bobo who still fears that Crowley will decide Grim was a monster all along and must be killed despite it clearly being blot that caused him to attack. Bobo who sees Grim as a younger brother.

Bobo who sometimes manhandles Vil out of slight frustration and wishing he would relax about his looks. Bobo who doesn’t want makeup because she worries Vil will try to cover up her birthmarks. Bobo who sees everyone as beautiful in their own right. Bobo who despises Petunia’s family for how limited they see beauty. Bobo who prides herself on having a kingdom who embraces everyone as beautiful. Bobo who thought Vil was like Petunia at first. Bobo who sees and admires his desire to better himself along with those he cares for. Bobo who wishes he could enjoy being a bit more carefree. Bobo who wonders if Vil sees her as ugly. Bobo who has roughish skin from all those fights for her and her citizens lives, from rock climbing and exploring for some sense of freedom, skin that maybe would be worse if it wasn’t as tough or if her kingdom’s air was as dry as Scarabia’s. Bobo who wonders if Vil sees scars as ugly. Bobo who sees scars as so much more.

Me who wants to self indulge by basically having a lot of dudes pining for Bobo but Bobo unable to return any of their affection as she’s determined to go home and worries that to date anyone briefly would break her and her lover(s) hearts.

I like the idea of Vil secretly harboring a crush on Bobo due to her self-confidence, comfort in her own looks, and despite saying everyone is beautiful, she doesn’t see it as some sort of crime to try to continue making oneself prettier. I like the idea of Bobo telling Vil that Neige is pretty, but in an adorable way while Vil is beautiful and elegant. That it’s unfair to compare them to each other along with it being ridiculous that directors don’t see the hero roles he can star in.

Bobo who knows law and contract terms but signs Azul’s contract out of frustration. She tells Grim that she basically signed on his behalf since he insisted she sign without taking any time to think about it. Bobo who doesn’t feel like Ramshackle’s here place yet. Bobo who was planning to stay in the school infirmary for the meantime since it has beds. Bobo who belted out scream lyrics all night because she decided she’d go along with Grim’s idea. Bobo who feels embarrassed that she let herself be pushed into a contract so easily. Bobo’s voice isn’t sore because she knows what she’s doing and took breaks. Bobo who tried to get Grim to yell only during her breaks but he was too loud and she wasn’t greatly attached to him so didn’t bother trying to get him to understand.

Bobo who flinched upon Floyd and Jade behind her because she didn’t expect them to be looming so close. She knew they were there, but still caught off guard by how close to her they were. Bobo who retaliates Floyd’s squeezes by squeezing him as hard as she can. Bobo who admires Floyd’s carefreeness. Bobo who wont hide from him because she enjoys his hugs. Bobo who wishes to dance with him because she wants dancing to always be carefree. Bobo who dances like a fool because it’s fun and freeing. Bobo who only knows how to waltz because Petunia’s family insisted on it. Bobo who knows how to act like a common royal because of Petunia’s family.

Bobo who attended some of her sister’s kingdoms balls as a cousin of Petunia’s because her sister kingdom has kept the Mycelind kingdom secret. Bobo who believes such secrecy will keep her kingdom safe. Bobo who hears tales of mages attacking and raising her sister kingdom. Bobo who had to cut off her usual meetings with her sister kingdom upon it being attacked by mages. Bobo who saw how shaken up Petunia was when it was over. Petunia who shared that her queen mother was nearly kidnapped because a mage was entranced by her beauty. Petunia who for once didn’t let her kingdom’s royal mage butt into their afternoon tea.

Mage Maus. The only mage Bobo knew somewhat personally before coming to Twisted Wonderland. A man a few years older than her yet overtook her sister kingdom’s royal mage. Bobo whose kingdom has no mages but her sister kingdom has a rare few. Those rare few are treated poorly unless they manage to become the royal mage. A royal mage being a positioned made in hope that a mage could help defend the kingdom.

Mage Maus who was the elderly royal mage’s apprentice who always sought her out at balls. Mage Maus who was always trying to get chummy with her and Petunia. Bobo who despised that Petunia let Mage Maus into the tea parties that were supposed to be for royalty only. Petunia who ate up any and all praise Mage Maus gave her. Petunia who loved people flattering her. Bobo who didn’t trust Mage Maus.

Mage Maus who tried to once propose the idea of fake dating so nobles would stop trying to get her wed to their sons at these balls. Nobles that thought a cousin to the princess would only bring benefits to them. Bobo who refused as she always found him sketchy. Mage Maus who got the nobles to leave her alone by getting Petunia to agree to tell them that Bobo’s engaged to him. Mage Maus who kept this from Bobo and kept suspicion from rising by constantly being by her side at balls. Mage Maus who always talked her into waltzing with him. Petunia would complain the next time they met if she never danced at all. Bobo who put up with this as to keep from harming relations between their kingdoms along with trying to see if she had any reason for her to feel so distrustful of Mage Maus. Mage Maus who knew Bobo wouldn’t talk about anything important in his presence. Mage Maus who couldn’t help but plan and scheme for an even better position than royal mage. Mage Maus who knew more than he should thanks to Petunia. Mage Maus who’s only attended three balls as Bobo’s fake engaged groom, one ball as just a royal mage, and five balls as royal mage’s assistant.

Bobo who has attended a total of eight balls. The frequency of attending having grown somewhat recently due to Petunia’s insistence. Petunia who found some glee in how annoyed Bobo was to attend these. Petunia who enjoyed feeling some sort of control over Bobo. Petunia who doesn’t understand why Mage Maus would want anything to do with Bobo. Petunia who decided Mage Maus was simply trying to be a good royal mage and impress her by being nice to Bobo. Mage Maus who would love to rule either kingdom.

[silversatoru]

Heyo! Can I get some fluff with the #8 quote for Gojo :] I perfer female reader and i don't mind with any au. Hope you feel well and have a good day!

— GOJO + “DO YOU THINK ALIENS ARE REAL?”

gojo satoru x gn!reader

synopsis: your secret boyfriend knocks on your window and steals you for a lil nighttime date in the sky

t/w: gojo is a second year, heights, tooth-rotting fluff, literally just two teenagers hopelessly in love w each other

a/n: thank u for requesting :) i loved writing this so so so much and i could see myself turning this concept into a multiple part series once i have more time to write. gojo as a student being happy and in love fills my heart <3

you strained your eyes at the fine printed lines of your biology textbook, rereading the same paragraph for the fifth time and hoping you would finally retain it. you couldn’t seem to focus no matter how hard you tried, your mind drifting everywhere other than your study materials.

a soft patter on your second-story window jolted you out of your scattered thoughts, your eyes darting up to the source of the noise. your gaze fell upon a certain white-haired boy, a cheesy grin spread across his face as he poked his finger at your window a few more times. you rolled your eyes, pulling yourself out of bed and gently pushing open your window in a desperate attempt to avoid making any loud noises.

“what are you doing here? it’s really late,” you hissed at him, trying to appear angry but unable to hide the smile that was tugging at your lips.

“i missed you,” he reached out his hand and held it open for you, “are you busy tonight?”

you took one last hesitant glance at your textbook and then shook your head and intertwined your fingers with his, “not at all”.

he helped you climb out through the window, a cool nighttime breeze stinging your cheeks. this was your weekly routine, you and the infamous blue-eyed boy. your parents didn’t really approve of him (maybe it was his massive ego or maybe it was the weird people he hung around with) but the two of you continued to find ways to see each other in secret. he’d use whatever insane abilities he had to teleport onto your roof and knock on your window, you’d accept, and he’d scoop you out into the night sky for a few hours. these were rare occasions though, as his role as a jujutsu sorcerer didn’t leave him with all that much free time.

tonight was just like every other, your hand wrapped in his as he teleported the two of you to an empty park that was situated on a beautiful overlook of a nearby city. nights with satoru were never less than a dream, a much needed escape from your boring life in the suburbs of tokyo. and nights with you were never less than a breath of fresh air, a few hours when all of his expectations and responsibilities of being a jujutsu sorcerer were nonexistent.

the two of you plopped down on a park bench, musing over the sparkling nighttime lights of tokyo. satoru shifted over, laying back and resting his head of fluffy hair right in your lap. your fingers instinctively found his shiny locks, twisting your fingers through the soft white while the two of you looked up at the stars.

“they’re all washed out from the bright lights, it’s hard to see,” you pouted, disappointed by the light pollution caused by the city.

“yeah it sucks,” satoru frowned — pointing out the constellations was always part of your routine, but he’d picked a bad location this time.

you hummed, massaging his head and straining your eyes to try and make out any shapes of stars in the sky.

“we could get a closer look?” he transferred his icy gaze over to you, a suspiciously evil smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“satoru, i swear if i’m thinking what you’re thinking — no,” you scolded the boy, your irrational fear of heights becoming prominent in the back of your mind.

“don’t you trust me?” he teased at you, sitting up from your lap and wrapping his hand around yours.

“more than anyone, but i do not want to-,” you continued to protest but the sorcerer boy was no longer paying any attention to your words.

when you opened your eyes again, you were thousands of feet in the sky, the city twinkling down below you and the harsh air stinging your skin. you yelped, clinging to satoru as if your life depended on it (and in sense it did, but he’d never let you get even close to falling).

“why don’t you ever listen to me!?” you cried out, eyes squeezed shut and arms thrown around his neck while he cradled you.

“shhh, look at the stars, babe,” he attempted to peel your arms from around him, using soft words to coax you out of your shell.

you slowly released your death grip on his neck, his strong arms providing a blanket of security over your fear. you forced yourself to look upward, jaw dropping at how clear the sky was — the stars stretched for miles and they were brighter than you’d ever seen them before. satoru truly was an enigma, a spectacle in your life who was constantly defying the laws of everything you knew to be true.

“it’s beautiful,” your voice came out as barely a whisper, you eyes quite literally filled with the stars as you continued to gaze up at the sky.

satoru hummed in agreement, but he was much too busy exploring every feature of your amazed face to even think about the stars. you were the most beautiful, surpassing every natural wonder in world and consuming every chamber of his heart.

he often thought about running away with you — disappearing to a different country and leaving the weight on his shoulders here. you reminded him what it was like to be a normal person — around you he wasn’t the strongest jujutsu sorcerer with the fate of the world in his hands, he was just satoru gojo; and that was always enough for you.

“do you think aliens are real, satoru?” your lighthearted, curious voice broke him out of his daydreams, a small chuckle rolling off his tongue.

in a world full of of curses and sorcery, inexplicably wrapped in his arms thousands of feet in the air, you were still questioning whether or not something like aliens existed. you truly did ground him, constantly tethering him to the normalcies of this world.

“yeah, probably, what do you think?”

“definitely real,” you affirmed, your eyebrows scrunched together in deep thought.

he couldn’t do much but laugh, turning you in his arms so the two of you were face to face now. you gazed down at the tiny city beneath you, one hand curled into his loose hoodie.

“i’m starting to like it up here,” you mused, turning your gaze back to him with a toothy smile, “feels like we’re the only two people who exist; everything else is so far away”.

“yeah,” he liked the sound of that, eyes crinkling up as he returned your smile, “we can do this more often if you like it”.

you gave him a quick nod, reaching up and pressing a quick peck to his curved lips. as you pulled back, you felt his hand wrap around the back of your neck, pulling you right back into another kiss — much deeper than the first. you melted into his arms, your senses devoid of anything other than his touch and the cool breeze whipping against your skin. when you finally pulled away, the two of you were safely back on the park bench again.

“i love you, satoru,” you breathed out, your anxiety from being in the air finally dispelling, “i wish we didn’t have to tip toe around together like this”.

“i know,” he gave your hand a small squeeze, “we should run away someday; somewhere far from here”.

“i’d follow you anywhere,” you returned his squeeze, sadness welling up in your heart as you thought about having to return home and not see him again for a while.

“that’s exactly what i wanted to hear,” he smirked, love welling in his chest as he reflected on how lucky the two of you were to have found each other in such an unfortunate life time.

an hour so later you were back in your bedroom, pressing hasty kisses to satoru’s soft lips as he leaned through the window. you wanted nothing more than to pull him in, ask him to stay, and spend the night wrapped in his arms — but you couldn’t, your parents would kill you and he had important missions to attend to.

“i’ll see you soon, i promise,” he gave you his signature smile, pressing one last kiss to your cheek and stepping away.

he put his hand to his mouth, placing a kiss to his fingertips and then blowing it towards you with a flirty wink — and then he flickered out of sight.

“see you,” you whispered, chest heavy and tears pricking at your eyes as you fantasized of the next time your blue-eyed lover would find his way back to you.

[get-shiggy-with-it]

Scream Therapy

Pairing: Tomura Shigaraki x gender neutral!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: extremely vague allusions to mental illness, metaphors about wounds, angst with a relieving ending, let me know if i’ve missed something

AO3 mirror

So you know those tiktoks where people go out into the woods and scream? Just like expel all the shit that’s been holding them down into an open field and let the earth reclaim all their dark, restless energy? Reveal the burdens that have been creaking in their joints and trapped in the prison of their ribs for the trees to swallow?

I’ve been thinking about that and Shigaraki a lot. 

Like the rest of the league too, but mostly Shigs. 

Just imagine: 

It’s late, it always is when shit is going down at the hideout. The League of Villains is practically nocturnal at this point. Shigaraki’s mind is a loud place—lot’s of rabid, train tearing down the track lines of thought that clatter and roar and gush toxic coal smoke.

So as annoyed as he makes himself out to be, he doesn’t actually mind the din of the bar all that much. Twice and Toga chattering in the corner, random bits of too loud laughter and the clink of Kurogiri polishing glasses as he tells off Dabi for the umpteenth time about smoking inside—hell, even Compress rambling about the health benefits of high quality wine to nobody in particular is somewhat...comforting?

That’s not quite the right word, but their noise settles around him a bit like a thick quilt and dampens the rampage inside his head for a while.

He thinks about a lot of things.

Some good, most bad, all obsessive. He’ll get stuck in these loops sometimes, small questions evolve into bigger, more complicated webs, and suddenly it’s been four hours and he’s done nothing but stare at the same spot on the wall just left of his desktop monitor.

Sleep is a terrifying venture for much the same reason. Once he gets caught in that cycling it’s so hard to break out, and that’s when he’ll stumble down the stairs and sequester himself away at the end of the bar.

There he will sit and listen to the incessant white noise of his team—which is frustrating too but infinitely better than whatever anxiety coated sludge his brain will come up with if left to its own devices, so he bears it.

And then there’s you.

Who you are isn’t entirely important.

Maybe you’re just another member of the League, dedicated to helping your boss spread villainy across the city. Maybe you’re a morally ambiguous civilian who just stumbled in much like a stray cat into a depressed college student’s apartment and simply never left.

Whatever the circumstances, where you came from doesn’t matter.

To him, your contributions to the din are just another layer of insulation against the storm. He couldn’t really care less what you do, or where you go when you weren’t there. As long as your voice could offer a different type of grating against his ears than the silent throbbing of his head when he is alone, then your presence is justified.

Shigaraki only takes notice of you when you leave, when your voice is no longer adding to the uproar drowning out whatever new thought spiral he was trying to claw his way out of.

It’s very late then. That odd, in between time when it’s closer to the sunrise than to it’s setting but somehow also the darkest portion of the night. Of course, it’s never totally dark—not with all the light pollution laying an ever present, glowing haze across the horizon—but it’s as close as it gets out here to pitch black.

He catches the tail end of your coat, a glimpse of your shoe soles as you slip up the stairs and climb the wrought iron ladder that leads to the roof. Shigaraki often catches himself wondering how you figured out exactly how to avoid each board that creaked. He thinks sometimes it’s because you like going unnoticed, that too much attention makes you feel just as shaky as he gets when he’s been inside his head too long. Or possibly you just don’t want to wake anyone up in the rare moments that some League members are actually asleep.

Regardless, he watches you go and feels strangely...compelled to follow and because he rarely feels compelled to do anything unless it’s furthering the downfall of hero society, he does.

He takes an unsteady step, then another until the brisk, cusp-of-summer air is washing over him. It bites through his thin black top and the worn holes in his jeans, but the sting feel likes something.

And since he almost always feels nothing at all, it’s good.

You’re stood a few feet from the edge of the building, where the ledge has begun to crumble away from age and poor maintenance. The wind is strong enough that it makes your limp arms sway by your sides. Shigaraki is so thin now, he’s almost afraid for a moment it might blow him away. He’s found himself feeling so insubstantial as of late, it’s shocking when his feet don’t lift off from the roof entirely. He crosses the distance towards you slowly. 

If you hear him approaching, you don’t show it.

Normally he wouldn’t start a conversation of his own volition but he did follow you up here and the silence is getting a bit deafening, even with the breeze.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

It’s simple, but it’s all he can think to say. Funny, with how many words that run through his head, he can never find the right ones when he wants them.

You turn then, and your face is...well it’s a face. He tends not to look at people’s faces much—doesn’t want to see their expressions when they look at him, but from what he can tell you aren’t upset that he’s here at least.

“I love the city at night.”

That’s all you offer in response and he knows somehow that you’ll keep talking even if he doesn’t answer. That you know how much he hates the quiet but can’t ever fill it himself.

“When you’re up high enough, you can pretend the streetlights are stars,” you divulge, as if it’s some sort of great, long kept secret.

Maybe it is.

Maybe you have a lot of secrets. You seem to him like the type of person who would. Who keeps life changing truths tucked under your tongue to drop suddenly over convenience store dinners and cheap beer.

He thinks that maybe he’d like to know them.

“It’s always so alive during the day, the streets I mean,” you continue, eyes trained out on the buildings below, tracing constellations from block to block. “But I can’t shake the feeling that it’s rotting too like….”

You trail off and don’t finish the thought, but you don’t have to. He knows what you mean: like the city is a wound that’s festering. That all the people and the heroes that corral them like cattle are just an infection waiting to spread.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again, because he hasn’t been able to come up with anything else.

Your gaze flits over his face this time, and Shigaraki almost misses the small smile that plays at your lips. He’s close enough now that you could touch him, and you almost do, shoulders just inches away from brushing. But you don’t close the gap.

You touch the others, a lot actually, though he gets the sense you’re the type to ask first. And with his mind running on overdrive every waking second, he gets overstimulated easily. He should probably be thankful you aren’t as familiar with him. That you bother to notice the distance he keeps even when he rarely pays you any mind.

Maybe you’re thankful for that too.

“You know, scream therapy is a very effective and cheap alternative to professional intervention,” you say matter of factly in response.

He waits for you to continue and you do.

“There’s no one out this late but heroes on patrols and they won’t come to help us, so this is a perfect opportunity to give it a try.”

He can feel his brow knitting together and you raise your hand for a second as if to smooth your thumb over the wrinkled skin. Shigaraki doesn’t move, but watches your fingers pause in mid motion and drop back down.

There’s a strange charge in the air between you—a spark he distantly wishes would ignite if only so he could stop churning in his gut.

“How do you do it?”

He’s never asked so many questions of anyone in his life. But he finds he truly wants to know.

And you’re the one that can show him.

You breathe deeply beside him, letting your eyes drift shut and taking a step towards the ledge. With hands balled into righteous little fists, you bend a bit at the waist and you...scream.

Shigaraki isn’t quite sure what he’d expected, but for some reason it wasn’t that.

He’s heard shouts before, cries for help or out of fear, but nothing like this. The sound seems to bubble up from some deep, dank pit inside you and bursts forth from your mouth like a geyser spewing boiling water from the earth. It’s long and low and loudloudloud. It isn’t a sound he could ever imagine you making, but it rumbles in his chest as if it’s his own.

Just watching has a weight lifting from his shoulders.

You keep going even when he knows you should have run out of air. But you aren’t really making the noise, you’re just letting it escape. He’s not sure how he knows that but he does.

Your voice cracks and snaps and rages forth and you scream in a way he feels in his very bones. The garbled, awful sound is so clearly understandable despite the wind that carries it away.

It says: I am free and young and can feel none of it.

And then it’s words. Words that tumble from you in a torrent.

About your family, about what’s been done to you, what you’ve done to yourself.

About the lies and the injustice of it all.

You’re heaving by the end, deflated as though all the screams had left behind an empty space—an abscess drained and ready to heal over or fill back up.

“It’s your turn.”

Shigaraki stares at you, silhouetted by the dull, silver glow of the city and panting. You both look at each other for a moment, reveling in the odd connection that sometimes forms between strangers who know far too much about each other.

He doesn’t think he could top that, but the energy you’ve created is invigorating and he’s determined to ride the wave while he has it.

Taking a step, he joins you by the ledge again, and you back up as if allowing him into the spotlight. The wind will swallow whatever he says, it will eat the words like a starving behemoth and he finds himself ready to feed the beast.

He has to dig deep, scratch at old sores to make them bleed again, tear at scabs so he can let the contaminating thoughts leak out. Once he feels like he’s breached far enough, Shigaraki takes a breath.

And he screams.

His body doubles over with the strength of it, foot slamming down onto the roofing and four fingers fisted in the hem of his shirt.

It hurts coming out, rips at his vocal chords and has his throat raw to bleeding after just the first few seconds but he pushes past it.

He wonders if this is what a runner's high feels like, when you’ve pushed beyond the side stitches and knee aches and your blood finally rushes with all those elusive feel good chemicals he never has enough of.

Whatever it is, the feeling is addicting.

Shigaraki is dimly aware of you in his peripheral, encouraging the tsunami thoughts in his head to be thrust out into the uncaring arms of the city skyline.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have to search for the words. They simply come. All his frustrations, some he wasn’t even conscious of, spill fresh and steaming like blood. Physically, his body remains but somewhere in the depths of his mind he is younger and hurt and alone and trying desperately to scream.

“I destroy everything I touch!” he roars at the apathetic, grey sidewalk below.

After the last word leaves him, he feels the same weightlessness he’d seen in the sag of your shoulders. The same snapping of the coil slack in his spine.

And suddenly, with this glorious, awful sense of revelation, Shigaraki realizes that everything in his head has gone quiet.

He’s over taken by a silence that requires no filling, a peace that he’d imagined only existed at the bottom of abandoned wells, far away from any chubby child’s hands that may toss foolish wishes down them.

He thinks about kissing you then.

And he knows now that this thought has always been there, but it was drowned like a subway rat in the aftermath of the hurricane brewing in his brainstem. He has always noticed you no matter how hard you try to blend into the background. Your voice has always been a bit better at shutting out the unending, worthless choir in his head.

He wouldn’t have followed anyone else up here—not Dabi, not Spinner, not Compress or even Kurogiri.

He can see that now. In this new enlightened state, everything is so much clearer. Though he is quickly thrust back into the present, into his body once again, as another kind of soft weight settles on his shoulders. Your coat is skin warmed and smells like you and everything he’s ever loved in his own screwy little way. He realizes then that you’ve been trying to talk to him this whole time.

“Shigs,” you call again and tuck the coat tighter around his shoulders, “you were shaking.”

Shigaraki nods, feeling relief from the cold he hadn’t quite been aware of till now. He’s not sure if you’ve ever addressed him so informally before, but he decides he likes the nickname.

It feels a bit like a gift.

“Better, yeah?”

He’s not really sure if it’s better, but it is different and it’s been impossibly long since anything has been different, so he thinks it must be good.

“Yes,” he says.

It’s a general yes, both to your question and to you, whatever that might mean. He doesn’t say anything more because he’s done enough talking and you nod like you understand.

Neither of you moves to leave the roof, but you do inch closer to him this time, closing the gap and tucking him into your side. Your arm is slung gently across his shoulders and he finds the weight of it relieving.

That seems like it shouldn’t make since but it does—a paradox of sorts, weight being a comfort.

Then the sun begins to rise and it’s as if he’s seeing you in a new light.

Your profile outlined by the stark daybreak rays, so horribly strong despite the scream he knows is forming again under the surface.

And Shigaraki wonders if you see him that way too.

[ddarker-dreams]

Pandora’s Box. Yan Chrollo x Reader

Warnings: Medicine mention, descriptions of anxiety, and implied minor character death. Word count: 2.7k.

A simple plan is the best kind to have. 

The less variables at play, the higher your rates of success are. You’ve anticipated some margin of error, a safety net of sorts, to be used if necessary. Everything within your realm of influence has been taken into account. Your friend in a car meeting you at a dead spot, a train ticket purchased with a prepaid visa card on a VPN, and a few precious pieces of jewelry to be pawned off at a later time. Scraping these assets together is a commendable feat, having to skulk around to make it this far.

Nothing feels out of the ordinary, you think. Your preparations are almost complete. All that’s left is to wait to ensure the beast in hiding cannot come for you.

Prayer doesn’t traditionally feel worth the effort -- any god that’d allow you to be subjugated to a hell such as this is no god worth pleading to -- but tonight is different. Tonight you pray to any deity that may spare you some pity, that this plan may succeed without a hitch. The time signals the beginning of the next phase, the most vital aspect. 

Tonight’s soup had an additional ingredient, a generous helping of sleep inducing pills. To avoid suspicion, you partook in the meal as usual, hoping to cancel out the effects later by ingesting a gratuitous amount of energy drinks. It served the original purpose of fending off fatigue, but not without presenting a unique set of problems of its own. The caffeine has served to heighten your anxiety, upping what was already a nerve-wracking experience to a new level. 

Your guts feeling like they’re rearranging themselves, your body not capable of forgoing fidgeting a single moment. No longer can you tell if it’s nausea, stomach pain, or hyperventilation. Maybe it’s everything at once. All you know is that you’ve never had your body working against you more than now. Every nerve is frayed, your senses on high alert to any shadow or noise.

Deep breaths no longer bring you reprieve. Each raggedy breath you manage to squeeze out is an accomplishment, overshadowed by the fear that he might hear you. How irrational a thought, that Chrollo would be capable of picking up on the differences in your breathing from afar. It doesn’t matter how illogical the worry may be. With Chrollo, you’ve learned that nothing is impossible. To expect the unexpected has been the mantra of your mind these past few months. 

Just a bit longer... I need to know he’s asleep for sure. Or else it’s over.

Your foot taps against the ground in a frantic rhythm, ears ringing like funeral tolls. The last time you dared peak into your shared room with Chrollo, he was supposedly fast asleep, out like a light. What should’ve been a cause for victory brought nothing but a fresh wave of dread. A guessing game ensues. Trying to decipher his body language from earlier for hints only serves to make you feel worse. You’ve been so cautious, walking on sheets of thin ice at every move. Chrollo hadn’t acted out of the ordinary to your knowledge. Not that he has a way of acting ‘ordinary’ anyways, your limited understanding of his person having to suffice. 

Should everything be going according to your design, your friend will be in position to pick you up. There’s no more stalling, the point of return ahead of you.

It’s time.

You do a final check over your mental checklist. Your backpack is stocked with the necessities: toiletries, a few changes of clothes, a filtered hydro flask, non perishable foods and your train ticket. To any onlooker it might look like you’re going hiking. Sporting worn sneakers, loose-fitting clothes, and having your hair pulled away from your face. This is really it. The culmination of sneaking around behind Chrollo’s back for months, unfolding before your very eyes. Everything is falling into place as it’s meant to.

You walk to the door. 

Each step you take is quiet as can be. Every shuffle of clothes, or the slightest of creaks from the floorboards, causes you to wince and pause. This penthouse has served as your personal circle of hell for months on end, the walls absorbing your cries and screams. You despise this place with every fiber of your being. The antique décor, the ancient texts that lay strewn about, the scent of sandalwood that you find nauseating. 

Ghosts of the past return to haunt you as you walk through different areas. Swirling around your head, they threaten to consume you, chipping away at your resolve. His hypnotic voice resonates in your mind like whispers of the serpent in the garden, tempting you. Weighing you down. Not even your own mind is a safe haven from his speech that disguises itself as flowery, when the reality is far more sinister. Chrollo’s words are constricting vines, lined with thorns, embedding themselves deeper into your flesh the harder you try to pry them out. 

“Don’t you remember how difficult your life was before me?” 

Another step.

“All those people who left you, who took advantage of you?” 

Your hands shake around your small, homemade EMP. It’s made from spare parts you managed to find around the penthouse, clumsily assembled through trial and error. The pulse it emits is next to nothing. Copper coils threaten to fall loose at any second when you raise it to the security system by the door. Holding your breath, you press down on the trigger. The device lets out rapid clicking sounds, the security monitor flickering before going blank. 

“I know you’ll come around.” 

Finally, come the excessive locks on the door. The compressed air you said you needed for cleaning is next up. The can is cool against your trembling fingers, white specs decorating the locks as you spray them over. With some persistence, they come undone, one after the other. Unshackling you from the depths. You open the door that’s mocked you relentlessly for months, withholding your prized freedom. 

“But even in the event that you don’t...” 

The surrounding world is a blur of colors. Your eyes don’t focus on any object for too long, scanning your surroundings for potential threats. It feels as if your stomach is in your throat when the elevator starts its descent. He had you up on the fiftieth floor? 

You fixate on the screen, numbers not flashing by fast enough for your liking.

40. 

20.

5. 

1.

“Well. There are always ways of overcoming inconveniences such as that.” 

It’s an extravagant lobby. Far more luxurious than you could ever have hoped to afford, this building being one of the most exclusive in Yorknew. The person at the front desk calls out and you ignore it. You must look mighty suspicious, not that you care. The priority now is escape. Running out the revolving door, crisp autumn air greets you. You’ve never felt more grateful for the bustling streets of the city. Even at night the city remains awake, making it easier to blend in. No one out here spares you a second glance as you weave in and out of fast paced crowds. 

23rd street. That’s where you’ll meet up with your friend, who will then transport you to the subway. Glancing up at the signposts, you realize you’ll be in for some walking. There’s no letting your guard down. Constantly looking over your shoulder, all you see are the faces of strangers. You’ve never felt so grateful to be a part of a crowd. 

Finally, after walking for what feels like an eternity, you spot your beacon of hope. A clothing store’s bright neon sign, which your friend sits parked in front of. Since these stores are closed this time of day, the crowd that once surrounded you have thinned out, yet you try not to fixate on the lack of cover. Jay walking across the street doesn’t prove to be an issue. The pollution from the city hides the stars behind a layer of smog, streetlamps your lone source of light.

Heart hammering in your chest, you tap on the window of her car with urgency. “Amelia, it’s me. [First].” 

You hear the doors unlock. 

Taking it as a sign she heard you, you waste no time swinging into the passenger seat of the car. Amelia immediately turns the keys, car humming to life. Your chest heaves with exhaustion from the draining events. This is it. The second to last step before you reclaim your freedom. It’s almost like a dream, the light at the end of a long tunnel. Amelia’s appearance is just as you recalled it. Hazel eyes, tan skin, long black hair, and an average build. Your heart leaps at the sight of her.

“I’ve been so worried about you,” your friend confesses in a hushed whisper. “[First], what... what happened? You completely fell off the face of the Earth for months. Then you contact me out of nowhere? What’s going on?” 

It isn’t easy meeting her eyes, so you don’t. “I... I don’t know if it’s safe to talk about it. The less you know, the better.”

She takes a moment to assess you before sighing. “Alright, I can tell this is serious. Just... I’m glad you’re alright.” 

Amelia begins driving without another word. Silence hangs in the air, offering a time to reflect. Your plan, Chrollo, what you’ll do next... it whirls around your head like a vortex. A gut feeling refuses to leave you alone whenever you picture his face. A dreadful thought that this entire escapade was too easy. Is it just your paranoia? It could very well be. Hugging your backpack closer to you for comfort, you’re startled by Amelia suddenly speaking up.

“The subway station, huh,” she reminiscences aloud, eyes flickering from the road to you. “So you’re leaving Yorknew?” 

There’s no way to continue dodging her questions. “... Yeah, I am.” 

“Where are you going?” 

It’s natural she’d have lots of questions. Had the situation been reversed, you’d have plenty of your own. For her wellbeing you don’t want to indulge more than necessary. Lying to someone who is helping you lives a sour taste in your mouth. It’s for her sake, you remind yourself. Having to involve Amelia in this at all was the last thing you wanted to do. 

“I’m going to Zaban City. I have some extended family there.” 

Amelia hums in confirmation to your story. “Your cousin, right?” 

“Right.” 

She stops pressing that particular subject, likely sensing your apprehension. You take advantage of the peaceful atmosphere and close your eyes. The sleeping pills from earlier are starting to grow more prominent. Losing consciousness is the last thing you need right now, but indulging in some much needed rest sounds too inviting. 

“There was something else I was wondering about.” Amelia starts, earning your attention. Looks like sleep will have to wait for later. You yawn, stretching your weary limbs, and wait for her to continue. She smiles, dark eyelashes fluttering shut in deep thought.

“Oh, sweet [First],” she whispers your name in the gentlest of tones, and looks over at you. “Why are you so selfish?” 

You blink, the words not settling in immediately. “What...?” 

She continues without missing a beat. “You used to be so envious of me. Always pretending to play nice, because you were too passive to say how you really felt. How you hated me.” 

“Amelia? What are you talking about? I... I never hated you, what--” 

“Even now you can’t bring yourself to admit the truth,” she sighs. “Not that I’m surprised. You’ve always cared way too much about what people think. Why would now be any different?” 

Her unexpected attack on your character has you shifting in your seat. Every word that leaves her lips is in her voice, yet feels so different than her normal character. Did something happen in the time Chrollo took you away? Anxiety rears its ugly head at the line of questioning. You take a sudden interest in your fingers, playing with them on your lap. 

“I don’t understand where any of this is coming from.” You admit, eyebrows furrowing together. The shift in atmosphere is tangible. What was once a warm reunion under stressful times has corrupted into a frosty confrontation. These insecurities of hers that laid dormant in your heart... why is she bringing this up now? In your most vulnerable hour? Nothing is making sense. These ugly feelings of yours were only ever confided in one person. 

“You knew it’d be a danger to my life to contact me. You knew that, and still you did it all the same. I wonder why that is. Could it be... that you wouldn’t care if I died? If I was tortured for aiding your escape?” 

Your heart drops. This knowledge... how can she know any of this? Amelia used the word escape, clear as day. Is that a coincidence? You look over at the car door, seeing it’s locked. Something’s not right here, you deduce. I don’t know what it is exactly, but something is very wrong...! 

She continues on. “I really do want to know what your justification for this is. Out of everyone you could’ve picked for help, you specifically chose me, knowing the danger it’d bring. Did you think I’d be spared in some sort of miracle?” 

The spare moonlight streaming in illuminates Amelia’s face, highlighting how pale her skin looks. Veins that would normally not have been so prominent have a blue tint, her lips a similar shade. Your eyes drop to the unnaturally large scarf that surrounds her neck. It’s not that cold out yet, why is she wearing something so cumbersome? Reaching out with unsteady hands, you pull the fabric back. Your gut feels like it’s been punched at the sight, eyes widening in horror. 

On the back of her neck is an antenna, with bat wings on the end. 

Shit! Shit, shit, shit-- 

In a frenzy, you stretch forward, searching for the button to unlock the car door. The second you find it, it’s pressed, and you unbuckle your seatbelt. You hear her speaking up again. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst from your chest as you jump out the car, grateful it isn’t going too fast. Skin meeting asphalt, you hiss at the pain, rolling onto your side. None of that matters now. How did he do it? He has to be nearby, maybe you can still make it to the station in time. Your head hurts from the impact, legs wobbling like jelly. 

It’s difficult to focus. You grit your teeth, utilizing the remnants of your strength to get to your knees. Why did the caffeine have to wear off so soon...? It was going so well. You finally had your chance, your time to take back your life. To go back to how things were. Struggling to get to your feet, you throw your backpack off, praying the lost weight will help you get up. 

“You never answered my questions,” calls a deeper voice. You gulp back acidic bile as a hand is extended in front of you. “I was hoping you would.” 

Your head hangs down. It’s over. For a transgression such as this, you imagine you’re in for quite the punishment. How funny a thing fate is. Similar to streams of rushing water, there are many twists and turns, leading you down paths you never wanted to go. Fingernails dig into the sensitive flesh of your palms, the pain anchoring your wandering mind to reality. All other parts of your body have lost feeling. Numbness is what you’ve come to know. 

The devil incarnate bends over, taking your tearstained face into his fingers, and lifting it to meet his eyes. An abyss of grey stares back at you, devoid of humanity. Taking pleasure in besting you yet again. Disappointment is mixed within an interest to see what you’ll do next. There’s no smile on his face as you’ve come to expect. You see an empty shell of a man glowering down at you, from a place just out of reach. 

“I can’t say I’m too pleased about this, [First]. We’ll need to have a long discussion, don’t you think?” 

[twices-pup]

Hiraeth

title : hiraeth ( minatozaki sana x fem reader )

word count : 1,592 words

genre : angst

warnings : single mention of alcohol

synopsis : hiraeth (n) - a homesickness for a home you can’t return to, or that never was. ( non-idol au )

side note : i didn’t expect myself to post another fic so soon, but the idea for this came to me at like, almost 1 in the morning and i was able to finish it soon after i woke up, so i thought, “hey, why not post this?” things have been a little rough in my personal life lately, so i guess you can say this is sort of a vent fic? so it might be a little messy, and it got longer than i intended it to be, but i hope y’all enjoy my 1 am emo thoughts :)

You hated this city.

You hated that every time you left your house, you're bound to see something that would remind you of her. You hated that the people around you still asked you about her. You hated that she was only a five minute-drive away from you, yet you weren't able to go see her, no matter how much your heart ached for you to.

You hated this city, but this city was where you were born and grew up in, where your family and friends were, where you had met her. This city—with its roads full of traffic, its bustling streets, and its busy people—was all that you ever knew, so you couldn't just up and leave. Even if every street and corner held painful memories of her.

You used to think that this city was your home, but that was until you had met her, during your freshman year of high school. She was charming in her own way, and had a smile so dazzling you nearly mistook it for a ray of sunshine. When she turned to you, and your eyes met for the first time, you knew right then that your life was never going to be the same again. All because of her.

You had remembered reading somewhere that home wasn't necessarily a place; it could also be a person, a pair of arms that you knew you belonged in.

The closer you got with her, the more it felt like you and her were like two puzzle pieces meant to fit together perfectly. Anything and everything she said or did, even something as trivial as putting a hand on your shoulder, was able to fill you with a sense of warmth and comfort. Soon she became all that you thought about, all that you sought for when you felt lost.

Soon she became your home.

Or at least, that was what you thought.

It wasn't long before you two were practically attached by the hip, and everyone who knew either one of you would know that. Where one of you were, the other wouldn't be far behind, and the fact that she lived just a neighborhood away from you helped. It was really easy for the two of you see to each other; at first you thought of it as a convenience, but time threatened to prove you otherwise.

You didn't know what came over you when you had let the words slip past your lips. You weren't drunk, you swore you never had anything to drink prior to the incident that night. So perhaps it was the heat of the moment, just the two of you sitting on top of a hill overlooking the city, and you ended up getting intoxicated by her instead of alcohol. The light pollution was so bad, there was barely a single star visible in the night sky. The view of the city after dark, however, was almost enough to make up for the lack of starlight. It was beautiful.

She was beautiful.

Hair messy, eyes soft, lips slightly chapped, your jacket draped over her shoulders. No matter how she looked, no matter what she wore, she was never anything less than beautiful in your eyes. Added with the romantic atmosphere, had you lacked self control you would've kissed her then and there.

Thankfully though, you were still able to control your actions. But as your heart raced while you stared at her, it was a lot less easier to control your words.

"I love you."

She diverted her attention from the view to look at you, eyes wide with surprise. A silence enveloped you two once more, one that felt heavier and far less comfortable than the silence before you had uttered those three words. You watched her shift awkwardly, and suddenly you became much more aware of the cold night air biting at the bare skin of your arms and neck. Where had the warmth and comfort gone?

"I love you too, y/n," Sana said carefully. You perked up at her response, feeling a wave of relief and even joy wash over you, but it was short-lived as she continued speaking before you had the chance to interrupt her. "You're my best friend, after all."

You felt your heart sink. Had she really not understood what you meant? Or was she pretending to?

"N-No, Sana," you began, frowning. "That...That's not what I meant. Not just in that way."

To this day, you regretted ever correcting her.

Another silence ensued, this one more agonizing than the last. Your heart was racing, but not in a good way, not in the way she normally made your heart palpitate. Your eyes trained on her every movement, as she avoided your eyes and brought up a hand to rub the back of her neck.

"We...We should head back."

You didn't know what else to say or do, other than agree and walk her back to her house. The walk was, as expected, terribly awkward, neither of you saying anything throughout, and you realized that that was the first time there was any awkwardness between the two of you. You hated the feeling.

Once you reached the front of her house, she turned to you, took your jacket off, and put it on you instead. However, she still refused to meet your eyes that were practically boring holes into her. As she adjusted your jacket, she spoke, ever so softly, "You're my best friend, y/n, you really are. And...And that's all you are to me. Nothing less, nothing more."

Her words were like an arrow through your heart. Not Cupid's arrow, the one that made you feel all lovestruck and giddy, but an actual piercing arrow aimed to kill you. You stared at her blankly, searching her expression for any kind of solace.

She did offer you one, a soft smile, meant to be reassuring and comforting, but you felt neither. "I'm sorry," she continued. "You're an amazing girl y/n, I know you'll be able to find someone else. So I hope this won't change anything between us." She pulled you into a hug, and you wanted to return it had your arms not felt glued to your side, before she pulled away and walked up to her front door. Before she disappeared behind it, she shot you another smile.

Her smile was definitely not telling you that things weren't going to change.

You didn't cry then. You didn't cry on your walk back to your own place. But the second your bedroom door shut behind you, and you were met with your dark, cold bedroom, the world came collapsing down on you. You sank to your floor, and you finally let your tears out.

You didn't see her for the next couple of weeks. You avoided her at school, and refused to hang out with her after school hours. You told yourself that it was what was best for you, some time alone to grieve. But weeks turned into months, yet neither of you dared to talk to one another.

Once you did decide to make the first move, she ignored you as if you weren't right there in front of her, as if you were invisible, as if you didn't exist. She simply brushed past you while talking to a couple of other girls, and she looked...happy. After what had happened between the two of you, she was able to be happy. You could do nothing but watch as she walked further and further away from you.

When you reached your house that day, you received a text on your phone.

"Let's not waste our time fixing something that's already broken"

You felt your heart break for the millionth time since the night of your confession. She had given up on you, on your once seemingly unbreakable friendship. You couldn't blame her, though; she didn't feel the same way you did and there was nothing she could do to force herself to love you back, but even with this knowledge you ghosted her for months, as if she had conducted the biggest sin the world had ever seen. If you were in her shoes, you knew that you'd be exhausted too.

She had given up on you, and you put the blame entirely on yourself.

As you flopped down onto your bed and let your tears flow, you recalled coming across a list of beautiful words from multiple different languages once, beautiful words with even more beautiful meanings. One of them was hiraeth.

Hiraeth.

You finally understood what it meant, how it felt.

She was your home, a home you could never return to, a home that never was.

+ + +

As you drove past her neighborhood on your way to get groceries, you looked out your car window, and saw her. Your houses weren't that far, and the city wasn't that big, so it wasn't your first time coming across her by chance over the years.

But this time she walked down the street, a wide smile plastered on her face and her hand in that of another woman. The other woman was saying something, and it made her laugh. That was the happiest you had ever seen her look.

You took in a deep breath as you turned your head back to keep your eyes on the road ahead, your grip on the steering wheel tightening.

You hated this city, but it was your home. The only one you've ever known, and will ever know.

. . .

please do not repost my work, whether on tumblr or on any other site.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “The Spirit of Polaris.”

Didn’t know what I wanted to write this week , but I told you you would get three stories every week, so that is what I have done. I hope you guys like it. 

Adam couldn’t sleep. He lay flat on his back with the warm Texas heat blowing through him. The windows in the barracks were open and a breeze blew through tugging at his shirt muggy with warm summer night air. All around him the other cadets lay sleeping in the night filled with the distant sounds of marching feet and the even more distant wine of aircraft engines. Light filtered in from the distant runway giving a gently white glow to everything around him. He sighed and rolled onto his side, trying to get comfortable, but it was no use.

Sweat pulsed from his pores with every beat of his heart, and slowly he sat up rubbing his head and blearily looking over at the other sleeping recruits. He had no idea how they were doing it. Most of them were probably from more humid climates, used to sleeping in this sort of oppressive heat.

He was more used to dealing with the cold.

He sat there for a long moment, debating on what to do before finally making a decision. Slowly rising to his feet, he quietly grabbed his boots, and slipped towards the barracks door feet almost silent on the wood flooring below him. He did his best to avoid allowing the light from outside to filter too far into the room, leaving only an instant sliver of illumination on the wood before stepping out into the cool night air. It was nicer outside, and he took in a sigh of relief as the wind brushed over his skin and cooled the heat.

He turned his head up to the sky, tilting his head back and frowned wilting.

The light pollution was so bad here, there were no stars to see. He slumped back against the wall and sighed. This was going to be a long night. 

Bending over, he put his boots on the ground and laced them up turning and making his way towards the distan runway. Up in the sky he could see distant circling lights of the planes both leaving and coming. He was drawn towards them, and the rolling sound of engines. 

He made his way through other small concrete buildings, quietly passing by, doing his best to avoid the dim flare of red, and a line of smoke that trailed up from the watch building,  and up onto a hill in the training field where he was able to sit and stare at the planes both coming and going. He found the roar of their engines to be peaceful, and wrapped his arm around his legs gently rocking back and forth in the night as the wind blew past him.

Adam was going to be exhausted tomorrow he knew, but there was nothing to help it. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, and there was no reason to lay there and hope it would happen. If Master Sergeant Kimball caught him at this hour, he would get his ass beat, and everyone in his group was going to get punished for him being a dumbass, but he was pretty sure their MTI was supposed to be asleep at this hour, and he couldn't Imagine the Master Sergeant missing out on his beauty sleep.

He had to keep his beautifully bushy eyebrows in top shape to yell at the cadets.

Adam rested back against the grass, hands behind his head to stare up at the sky watching as a slow moving red light passed through the distorted atmosphere. The breeze continued to tug at his shirt; he lay in the grass and stared up at the sky.

He was sort of half dozen when.

“Are you enjoying your evening layabout, recruit.”

He nearly soiled his pants jolting upright and nearly tipping over as he turned around to see Master Sergeant Kimball crouching behind him in the grass, the whites of his eyes wide and wild.

“Master Sergeant,I…. I…”

Sergeant Kimball stood staring down at him with his large eyebrows furrowed. Adam had grown a lot over the past year and was almost as tall as the man, but that did nothing to ease his abject terror.

“Sneaking past the posted guard to come watch the airplanes” 

Adam stammered, “I’m s-orry, sir. I- I couldn’t sleep and there are no stars out.”

Sergeant Kimball stepped forward, and Adam flinched back preparing himself for the string of abuse that was sure to leave the man's lips, but when nothing happened he slowly opened on eye too see the man staring up at the sky overhead backlit as a silhouette against the training field below.

“Sit your ass down, recruit.” He said, voice softer than it normally was.

Adam did as ordered dumbstruck as the man slowly lowered himself to sit next to Adam. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting on and placing it between his lips as he stared up at the sky, “This damned humidity makes it impossible to sleep.”

Adam could only nod in agreement.

He looked up at the sky taking a drag on the end of his cigarette causing the tip to flare once before dying away.

You’re right, not much a man can see of the stars here.”

Adam nodded tentatively, opening his mouth, “That was you, at the guard post? You saw me?”

“You aren't exactly one built for sneaking, son, white as a bare ass.”

Adam blushed and shuffled his feet, “Sorry sir, couldn’t sleep.”

Sergeant Kimball looked back up at the sky, “Tell you what, why don’t you and me go for a little drive.”

Adam wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about that. Getting in the car alone with their MTI seemed like a great way to get himself singled out, but he couldn’t imagine how he could say no to this man either, so instead he just nodded and stood. Sgt. Kimball led him down through the base and towards the parking lot before the main building pulling the keys to a hover jeep out from one of his pockets. Adam got into the passenger seat using the frame to halt himself into the seat and sit down as the man began to drive. The vehicle was open, and so there wasn’t much conversation as they spend through the night, wind rushing past them in great usts as they sped up the highway, other vehicles roaring past them.

Adam closed his eyes feeling the rush of air over his skin as he leaned his head out the open side and into the night.

They left the city behind crawling out into the desert of scrub brush dark under the night sky above. The city lights faded into the distance, slowly replaced by blackness overhead. Stars began to wink into place, the brightest first followed by their dimer counterparts.

He closed his eyes, lifting his face to the sky in awe feeling a thrill in his chest as the desert passed by them on both sides and the sky grew darker, until it was possible to see the distant milky lines of their galaxy’s arm extending into the darkness.

It didn’t fail to cross his mind that he was alone with Sgt Kimball in the middle of the desert, a prime place to kill someone and bury their body, but generally tended to hope that he wasn’t going to die.

He didn’t think Sgt. Kimball hated him that much.

They pulled off down a dirt track and pulled to a stop with the sky arrayed above them. 

He clambered out of the car at the instruction of Sgt Kimball who sat himself on the hood of the vehicle and stared up at the sky.

“Beautiful isn’t it.” The man commented 

Adam nodded eyes filled to the brim with glowing white stars.

Sgt. Kimball looked over at him, “You’re serious about this.” it wasn’t a question 

Adam nodded.

Kimll leaned back against the windshield kicking one of his feet up onto the hood while dangling his other foot off the side, “A lot of those kids back there couldn't give two shits about what we do.” he glanced over at Adam, “You on the other hand, you try, pay attention in the classes, spend your free time studying while those little assholes fuck around.” He lit another cigarette, “I always know when someone is going to make it, and you, you will.”

Adam frowned a bit skeptically, “Er….. thank you sir but, I Thought you…. I thought you thought I was a dumbass.”

Sgt Kimball laughed, “Because you are, son. But the world is run by two types of people, assholes or dumbasses, and quite frankly, I tend t find myself liking dumbasses more than I like assholes.”

A cloud of smoke billowed up from his lips as he pointed up at the sky, “I’m assuming you know where Polaris is?”

Adam nodded and pointed with a finger.

“People been guiding themselves by her light for thousands of years, soon enough we'll be sailing the stars and she won’t be so useful anymore.” he paused, “I think we should visit her when we can, seems like it would only be fair to pay homage to the most important star in human history…. Second to the sun I suppose.”

Adam stared at Sgt. Kimball mouth half open. He didn’t think there was particularly anything poetic about the man.

“Shut your mouth boy, leave it open too long and something might nest in it.”

He closed his mouth and turned away, lifting his head to the sky above staring towards  Polaris, which winked at him from the distant expanse of space.”

***

“Get out.”

“But.”

“BET OUT! If you want to sleep inside than you have to prove you deserve it.” Chalan flinched back as the door was slammed in her face taking a step back into the moss as the sound of her mother’s voice echoed through the night. Inside she could hear raised voices, an argument rising up in the night.

“You dishonor yourself .”

“Dishonor myself Kazna, or dishonor you dishonor yourself.”

“You are too soft on her.”

“And you are a traitor to your own family. As her mother it is your job to protect and love her. It is NOT conditional.”

“You are weak Lanus, and your ideals will make her weak.”

Chalan turned her head away and trudged her way through the village trying to ignore the eyes on her as she could see peeping out the little windows in the side of the huts. As she walked her feet kicked up bioluminescent moss spores, which glowed as they moved and wet dormant as they lay still calling attention to her movements as she made her way through the open streets and out towards the edge.

The city watch ignored her as she passed by them. Spores clung to her feet and heels making her feet glow with every step as she walked into a small patch of coil tree, their berries glowing white in the darkness. She picked one idly and rolled it between her fingers. Behind her, she heard the sudden soft padding of feet, crouched low she spun spear held out before her in a defensive stance, sure she was about to be set upon by an enemy tribe, but instead was surprised to find Nehchal and Kanan standing behind her. Nechal glowing like one of the moons with her bright white carapace, Kanan blending into the darkness behind in comparison.

She blinked “What are you two doing here.”

Nechal raised her spear, “Watching your back for the night is dangerous.”

Chalan sighed, ‘You could just be honest with me.”

“You know I don’t lie.” Nechal said falling into step beside Sunny as Kanan did the same on her other side.

“You guys don’t have to.” As they walked, their feet lit up with the bioluminescent spores.’

It was a safe enough time of year. The spores could be easily seen across long distances in the dark, and so an arriving raiding part would have to be stupid to come at night. Even now, in the distance, she could see a slow line of spores ascending into the sky as a herd of  unknown creatures passed over the fertile valley before ethem.

Kanan placed a hand on her shoulder, “Why don’t we sit, this seems as good a palace asanhy.”

Chalan shrugged and sat in the moss as she tilted her head back towards the sky. She tried not to think too much about Nechal and Kanan being here. They had probably been spending time together before the argument between her parents broke out. If it wasn’t for her they might be having a nice night together.

“Do you think we are the only ones?” Nechal asked into the darkness 

Kanan looked over ather, “The only ones what/”

Nechal waved one of her hands upward, “The acolytes say we live on a floating rock in the middle of the void. That void is lit by burning gasses of unknown providence, so my question is, are we the only floating rock or are there other things living out there?”

Kanan laughed while Chalan stayed silent, “Definitely the only ones.”

“You think so?

“Doctrine of the citadel doesn't mention anyone else?”

“The doctrine also doesn’t talk about coil trees, but those still exist.”

Chalan lay there listening to their banter as she looked up at the sky. It was a good question, and if there was life out there, what would it be like? She tried imagining fanciful creatures to populate these unknown worlds, but found that it was hard to imagine anything that didn’t resemble something already their own. Not like i mattered anyway, it was unlikely any of them would ever find out.

She did her best to block the arguments from her parents of earlier and listened to the distant roaring of the mountain volcanoes glowing red on the distant horizon.

Nehchal pointed her hand up into the sky, “Look, Chalan, Eedacheel. It’s bright tonight.”

Sunny turned her head to the southern star.

“Beautiful.” Kanan whispered 

“That’s my favorite story.” 

“What?”

“Eedacheel, the spirit that guides, the spirit that brings Drev together. Remember, they say she guides us to those we love.”

The two of them shared a long look and Sunny had to stop from rolling her eyes at them. She stared up at the star Eedacheel had never done anything for her. She stared at the softly winking star. All she saw was distant and unattainable. If there was a spirit, it certainly didn’t care about her.,

[hargrove-mayfields]

this was requested by @deardmvz ! based off of this lovely post!!

Billy is released from the hospital a few months after he’s out of that place, having been dragged back to his own world a bloody mess by a group of government men in hazmat suits.

They said he was lucky to have spent as long as he did in a toxic environment and come out of it only needing a weekly breath treatment and a couple of bandages. But he knows it wasn’t luck.

Because if there was such a thing as lucky, Billy Hargrove was not it.

Rather, it was because he’d learned how to give the monsters over there what for. Didn’t hide and come whimpering at the first signs of rescue, begging for their protection like everyone was expecting him to after dealing with monsters and breathing polluted air for six months.

Six months. He couldn’t believe that. To him, on the other side, it had felt more like years.

But he’d stumbled out of that place all the same, dripping axe still gripped tight in hand, in case this was his mind giving up, in case his hell wasn’t really coming to an end after all, and in the end, he was tougher, more resilient, unafraid.

But the doctors didn’t really believe that, did they?

As soon as he was given the clear in the emergency room, onced over for physical injuries he’d thankfully avoided and the doctors having given him something that made him cough up most of the gross stuff that’d been collecting in his lungs, he was sent straight to the psych ward.

Because he could kill as many monsters as he wanted, and he could spend months as a survivor, doing what nobody before him had been able to without super powers, but he was never going to be able to shake the isolation, the uncertainty of everyday he spent over there. Not without help.

The upside down was a no man’s land, he didn’t have the time of day to think about what he’d done, who he’d lost, what had happened to him. But the moment he’s free of it, he’s back to reality.

Back to being the kid down on Cherry, with years of baggage to carry even before all this interdimensional bull that he’d never worked through. With a sister who thought he was dead, and a father who probably wouldn’t care less whether or not he was.

They see all of that, so he pushes them away, refusing every attempt the nurses make at helping him. He doesn’t want their help anyways, he doesn’t want to be in the hospital anymore, and he sure as all hell doesn’t want to be a part of some government conspiracy.

But with enough personal questions and screenings, they’re able to, a couple of weeks into the program, coax it out of him, working him up to the breaking point and the following outpouring of guilt.

Pushing him to admit things about himself he’d never had to look in the face until that hard shell he’d had to build up to protect himself from monsters of all kinds since he was just a kid dissolved away, and he was left a sobbing mess in a support group, going on and on about having chased his mother away, how he was working on chasing his little sister away.

About the way he treated his peers and the way he let others treat him. About Heather Holloway and everyone else and how he’d killed them.

Straight away they get him in to see somebody, something he doesn’t really like the sound of at first, but they say they’re willing to release him from the psych ward if he agrees to go regularly, so it’s worth a shot.

That is, until he realizes he has nowhere to go except back to his house. 5280 Cherry Lane, where Neil Hargrove, the very first monster he’d ever had to fight, would be waiting for him.

He tries to get out of it, to go back to who he was before he’d let all this stuff get to him, but it doesn’t last. He’ll bark out nasty things at the nurses and refuse to cooperate when they get to trying to evaluate his head again, but there’s no bite behind it, and he can’t keep it up.

That seemingly infinite well of hatred and pain had been drained by his time on the other side, until he just didn’t have it in him to be angry all the time anymore.

Billy tucks his tail and goes to the shrink, signs the release papers at the hospital and goes straight to that first appointment like he isn’t terrified of what will happen the minute they let him go home for the first time in forever.

Some part of him knows it’s no different than what he’d already been dealing with in intensive care, but there’s still something about being out there on his own, shooed away from what had become his sanctuary after escaping just to have some government approved doctor tell him he’s mentally unwell, that doesn’t sit right with him, and he walks out of that office even more nervous, more jittery to return than before, but he can’t avoid it forever.

The house isn’t too far from downtown where the office is, so he just walks home. He thinks of stopping at a payphone and call ahead, to let them know he’ll be coming home, but he hasn’t exactly been carrying pocket change with him, and he thinks it might be better if they’re not expecting him anyways.

It’s bitter cold outside, a dusting of snow on the ground making him walk slow over slippery sidewalks, unused to the conditions, but it’s the most fresh air he’s gotten in a long time, out in the kind of cold he can appreciate.

Over there, it was a clammy kind of cold, the type that clung to his skin and seeped into his bone, like he was under water. But this is different, the sun shining overhead taking off some of the bite, a cross wind that blew his hair back in his face and made the tip of his nose go numb.

By the time he reaches the door, he still doesn’t know exactly what he’ll say. How does one go about breaking the news to their family that they aren’t really dead?

The general idea is this: ring the doorbell, hope against hope that Neil isn’t afraid of zombies, appeal to his inner anti-government conspiracy theorist, and pray that he’ll buy it for long enough not to shoot him dead and maybe let him inside.

First step goes smoothly, and he’s ready to move on to blocking punches in the case of a kinemortophobic, but when the door is yanked open, it’s not his dad, and the rest of the plan goes out the window. It’s Max that answers, and before he has time to even process that, she wraps her arms around his torso in a hug tight enough to knock the wind out of him.

He doesn’t know what to do, this wasn’t what he’d been anticipating, so he kind of just, awkwardly pats her back and tries to ask her if he can come in, but all she does is squeeze him tighter.

Susan peers around a corner in the house, “Max, who was at the…” They lock eyes, and she trails off, a mix of relief and apprehension and maybe something like fear on her face. “Bring him inside, dear.”

Max pulls away and lets him in, wiping at stray tears with her sleeve pulled up over her hand. She waits for Billy to sit on the couch, and sits down right next to him, pressing into his side. “Where were you? We watched you die.“

“Wasn't me.” He eyes Susan, trying to communicate to Max that this was top secret, don’t tell your step-mom immediately after leaving a government facility information, but Susan chimes in.

“She told me everything. After what happened she was too upset to remember her agreement. We both signed the NDA.”

And for a second that pisses him off. Not at Max and Susan, but the agents who knew what was happening and still had the nerve to bring them in to threaten them without even bothering to mention he was still alive.

Right now that’s the part he tries to focus on. That he was still alive, and had better things to worry about than what he couldn’t change. “It was a clone. A fail safe made by the shadow in case your merry band killed me. When he died, I was trapped.”

“In the upside down?” Max’s eyes were wide as could be, the color drained from her cheeks. “But-but that almost killed Will and he was only there for like, a week.”

“Do I look like a scrawny twelve year old kid?”

“Muscles can’t protect you from toxic air, jerk.”

Susan’s looks frantic in that way she used to around Billy’s dad, who is notably not present, as she scolds, “That’s enough, Max. He’s been through a lot to get here, let’s let him ask some questions.”

It wasn’t like Billy really minded Max’s questions, he was sure he’d have quite a few himself if it was Max who had come back from the presumed grave, but he did have one of his own sitting heavy at the front of his mind. “Where’s Neil? He get his work schedule changed or something?”

“He’s gone.” Max deadpans.

At her tone, Billy feels his stomach drop, his heart stutter. “He died?”

“Heavens no. We got a divorce three months after we buried you, or what we thought was you.” Susan looks at Max tired, remorseful. “He was never the same without you.”

Things had been close to boiling over even before everything, he worried who had filled his shoes. He nods towards Max. “How bad was he?”

“Better and worse. He never laid a finger on us, but he was…”

An overdramatized shiver runs through Max as she finished her mother’s sentence, “Creepy.”

Susan nodded in agreement and explained, “So nice, so reserved, it was like we were constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

“And he’s not coming back?”

“Why should he? He didn’t even tell us where he was going.” Max scoffs, missing the implication of what he asked. Seeing her still be so clueless made Billy infinitely grateful that Susan had finally given his old man the boot, even if that meant he was somewhere in the middle now.

He figures that was something he was willing to deal with if it meant Max was okay, and Neil wasn’t anywhere near her. Now he just needed to know if Susan would be expecting him to go find his dad on his own and move in with him.

He doesn’t mean to let as much tension into his voice as he does when he asks, “So what’s all this mean for me?”

“What else? You are never leaving me again, asshole.”

So it was settled, and judging from the look Susan gave him, she agreed with Max’s answer. Which was, overwhelming, to say the least.

Not that Neil had exactly been a family man, but the fact that they were willing to accept him back into their home without him around was more than Billy knew how to process just yet.

His room had already been converted into a storage space as Neil had been moving out, dragging everything that had never been unpacked in the first place out into the one space he viewed as disposable.

They thought he was dead, he couldn’t have expected them to keep his room the way he left it, and though it did sting a little when he found out half of his stuff was missing, either taken by Neil or thrown out in the process, it was soothed by Max giving him a box of all the things she knew were the most important to him, having snuck in and gone through his belongings herself.

Billy decides to let Susan keep her little storage room, it had been too drafty in there to make for a decent bedroom anyhow, so he moves into the carpeted corner of the basement, which he notices is finished now.

Before, the ceiling had been wide open, half built wooden slats coated in years of dust and cobwebs, a single exposed light bulb offering the only source of light. Now it looked like an actual room, and it made him feel something tight in his chest.

Because Neil had retiled and painted the upstairs bathroom when his first wife left him, and he had finished the basement when he thought his son had too.

Billy doesn’t know how he’s supposed to feel about his dad anymore. He’d been dreading the moment he would have to walk through the doors of his own house out of fear and hatred of that man, but learning he wasn’t even there, he almost missed him.

Almost. But then he thought about the way Susan and Max were now, so distinctly different in the comfort they exhibited in their own space, no longer having to constantly cower in fear of the overbearing head of the house, the person he’s free to be now that Neil isn’t around, and suddenly he’s not so remorseful.

Though he does catch Susan once, standing in the kitchen one morning and crying over an old photo of her and Neil.

He’s pretty sure, from the glimpse that he gets, that it’s from the first church registry photoshoot they did as the Hargrove-Mayfields, when the photographer had mindlessly said something like “now just mom and dad,” making both him and Max gag, which made Susan cry after it was over.

That night had been her first taste of the real Neil Hargrove when Billy got a beating in the parking lot. He still remembers the horrified look on her pale face as she told him it was alright when he apologized, snotty nose and bruises on his skin.

He knew the feeling was the same for her, torn between the man they needed Neil to be and the man he had actually been to them, so he pretended not to see her tears. Silently, she agreed to do the same, and ignore the way he sometimes sat in Neil’s chair with a glazed over look in his eye, or sighed and trained his gaze to the floor when he passed the family photos still hanging in the hallway.

It takes a long while for the three of them to settle. Max is a constant ball of excitement, reminding Billy so many times a day that she’s happy to have her brother back that he might just cry about it once he’s alone, and Susan and him are nervous 24/7, pinballing off one another as they try and fail to forget the ghosts of the house.

He thinks about leaving for a while, moving in somewhere all on his own, but his therapist tells him it’d only make things worse now, to lose his support system. Besides, he didn’t have a penny to his name, so it wasn’t like he had much of a choice but to just suck it up and stay with the Mayfields.

In the meantime, he gets himself a job working stock at Melvald’s. They had an open position after Mrs. Byers skipped town, and he thinks they would’ve hired just about anybody to try to get back on their feet after the now demolished mall almost put them out of business, even zombie boy 2.0. His boss is understanding enough, doesn’t say a word when he has to go into the back and have a panic attack when a grieving family member comes in.

They tell him that’s what’s best for him, getting out there and doing something, even if it’s not the something he would ideally be doing at this point in his life. It had never been his intention to stay in Hawkins after graduating, he wanted to go to college back in his home town, but he had to admit it was growing on him some, and setting up roots there was supposed to be good. Maybe that was just the fact he wasn’t allowed to leave talking though.

The guy they’re sending him to, he thinks is somewhat of a quack. His advice is shaky at best, and he treats Billy like some kid, giving him tasks and a reward system more fit for Holly Wheeler than an eighteen year old with enough trauma for the whole town.

So even though he does cooperate, does everything last thing the guy asks of him, he doesn’t particularly feel the need to go beyond that, face the deeper set issues his therapist doesn’t even know about.

Billy’s lack of cooperation makes the whole thing more complicated, gives him less that his therapist can tell him to work on, so he asks him just to talk to Susan.

They’re closer now than ever before, far beyond all the tension and avoidance and misplaced resentment, but they still don’t really talk about any more than what’s necessary. Things like, how was your day, could you help me with this, are you okay, but nothing substantial.

It should be easy, they’d been living under the same roof since he was twelve, so they should have plenty to talk about, it just never seems like the right time, though he has been thinking about it a lot, the way he treats her despite how much she’s done for him.

He doesn’t really have a plan to bring it up, he’s fully prepared to go back to another appointment the next week reporting no dice, but there’s one morning where the clock keeps ticking and the both of them are still wide awake in the living room, like a stalemate of who’ll give in to sleep first.

They both look like they need it, Susan’s hair is frazzled, the bags under her eyes as dark as the coffee she drinks. Billy knows he’s not looking so hot either. He doesn’t remember the last time he could go to sleep without his subconscious taking him back to that place, so he doesn’t even try anymore, just waits until he gets so exhausted he’ll pass out into a dreamless sleep.

He doesn’t know what it is that compels him to say anything, because it’s not awkward or even tense silence really, but he does, his tired voice cutting into the quiet.

“I dunno how to make it up to you.” He’s looking down at his hands, at the barely there scars that still litter the skin there. He thinks for a moment about how much worse it could’ve been, before looking to her. “I mean, I’d get it, if you didn’t want me around.”

Susan looks back at him, not having expected him to say anything really, let alone something so heavy. “What’s this about, Billy?”

“M’not even your kid, Sus. I just- I dunno. Why’d you let me back in?”

She looks baffled. “Should I not have?”

“I’m an adult. don’t need to be moochin’ off my ex-stepmom.” He feels like he had the very first time he ever met her, scared to look her in the eyes, only this time for an entirely different reason. “M’not your burden to carry.”

“Honey, you’re not mooching. You go to work, you help around the house, you help me with Max. That’s more than I could ask for.” She hesitates, unsure of how wide his boundaries are, then adds, “And, maybe you aren’t my son by any stretch of the imagination, but you will always be Max’s brother.”

He had been expecting something about his dad, always had some suspicion that he’d forced a dependent on Susan after he left, but the total opposite seems to be true, and that makes a lump rise in his throat.

In the absence of a response, Susan continues, “If there was one thing you could do for me though, I know you lie to your therapist. Don’t.”

He doesn’t have it in him to fight it, has enough sense about him to know she’s right. All he can manage is a breathless, “Okay.”

She pats him on the shoulder gentle as can be, and stands up from the couch. He doesn’t look up as she retreats to her bedroom, afraid the tears that had welled up in his eyes would spill over if he did.

When he hears her door close softly is when he lets the tears fall. It’s still a lot for him, to have someone be so casual in looking out for him in that way he still hadn’t quite grasped was possible.

The very next day Billy fesses up, and to his surprise, they don’t immediately cart him off when they hear he’s been faking. That had been his biggest fear, with the power that these people held. They’d threatened to lock him up if he ever ran his mouth, so he didn’t know what to expect.

He did feel stupid though, opening the damn for the same guy who gave him stickers for taking his meds about all the things he’d bottled up. But it works to get him into a better program than what they had him doing before, and he realized he’d had it backwards.

The fear of what they were going to do to him kept them from doing anything at all, and it gave Billy a deep sense of relief, that he’d finally broken free of that.

So instead of being assigned things like brushing his teeth or going outside for five minutes a day, which was decent advice, but completely irrelevant to what he needed, now his therapist had started telling him things like throwing out the razor blade he’d been saving for a rainy day, dumping the last of the nonprescription pills he kept in his night stand.

The more he did, the more complicated they got, until he was told that, in exchange for completing his tasks, he would only have to visit the office once or twice a week instead of every day. His last assignment before that could happen was to make amends with his past.

The most obvious thing the doc wanted him to do was forgive his parents, but Billy didn’t know where to even begin on that one, or really, if he had or hadn’t already done as much, so he went with the other way first, apologizing to everyone he had, or felt he had hurt.

He started at the cemetery. Max came with him and held his hand as he broke down graveside, begging his repentance for all the people who’d died last July. Talking to their survivors was strictly out of the question, they still thought he was the hero that tried to save as many as he could and was killed in action, not the one responsible.

That had been the story spread it the public by the people who had known all along he wasn’t really dead, monitoring his activity on the other side while they turned murderer into martyr. The more time he spent in the shrink's office, the less sure he was that even he knew what side he was on.

Apologizing to the living proves to be easier. He starts with the Sinclair kid at one of the weekly nerd meetings Max holds at their house, now that it’s safe, pulling him aside for a few to say his piece, which, judging from his reaction, Max had already done most of the heavy lifting for him.

When they came back he got fixed with a glare from the unfamiliar little girl that was always around these days, and he realized he and Lucas had that in common, a weapon of a little sister.

Next came minor inconveniences, people like Tommy who he used as a punching bag just because they were friends. Most of them blew the whole thing off, they were in high school when it happened, didn’t understand the moral dilemma of it all, and everyone but maybe one kid who he might’ve punched a little too hard when a fight broke out after football practice forgave him.

Last on his list, the one person standing in the way of what was supposedly the next step of his healing process, was Harrington.

Steve’d had his own fall from grace, and Billy fell much, much harder than he had, so it could be the easiest apology he has to do, but there were reasons it might be the hardest too. He didn’t think he deserved forgiveness for the way he’d treated Steve, which he’d never even apologized for in the first place, and it seemed like a cheap shot to be doing it now, more than a whole year after beating his face in.

He tracks him down at work, rifling through shelves lined with tapes he wasn’t interested in until he had the guts to approach the counter and ask Steve to follow him outside. The bastard doesn’t even look suspicious, doesn’t hesitate in giving him his warmest smile and inviting him behind the counter instead with a, “What’s on your mind, man?

It should be awkward, uncomfortable at the very least, they're having a conversation that should be happening anywhere but in two folding chairs behind the counter at Family Video, and yet, Billy feels none of that unpleasantry, just a conviviality he’d never expect to have with Steve Harrington, of all people. T the one apology he’d expected to be turned down is accepted with a simple, “It’s okay, Billy.”

That’s what made him different. He wasn’t like Tommy, who’d told him to forget anything ever happened, or Susan, who was adamant that it wasn’t his fault; Steve actually forgave him without ignoring what he did, and that, that was what this was about.

He finds himself frequenting the video store on his off days, trying to make friends with the one person other than Max he felt like he could trust, who trusted him, and from there it turned to swinging by Steve’s place after work, going out on the weekends together, falling head over heels in love.

That last part Billy tries to deny, tries to rationalize that maybe he’s just clinging to something constant after so long in isolation, but the longer he spends around Steve, the more he knows there’s no way around it. Billy was so gone for him and his stupid hair and his stupid laugh and his stupid little family video vest.

There’s a while where he tries to distance himself a little, feeling guilty about crushing on the only person to extend the olive branch back after he got out, but then Steve starts showing up at his door, and Max would hide a guilty smile behind her hand.

Once summer hits, just a few short weeks shy of the anniversary of when the shadow got Billy, Susan and Max get more and more careful around him, like they don’t want to set him off, and he gets that. Sometimes Max or one of her little friends would mention something that had happened last July, a sort of ‘hey, remember when we,’ and he would get a little, off.

Never violent, never cruel, never the Billy he had been before, just, reserved.

He thinks they’re afraid he’s going to snap. That they’ve gotten the wrong impression from all this recovery stuff. The very last thing he wants is for Max to think just he’s a shmooze, faking being better to get on her good side.

But they’re not. They’re just want to give him his space, after everything, and he knows he’s got to get out of his head about it.

For now though, when he’s afraid he might break his promise, he takes off, but it depends on what kind of day it is where he’ll go. Sometimes it’s the pool, at the picnic table on the other side of the fence, or to the cemetery again, making the rounds between all of the markers, the ones he put there, or even to visit the totaled Camaro, sold to a junker and kept in the corner of some private property, his blood still on the seats.

Once, he’d made the mistake of going to the steelworks, just to sit on a railroad tie outside of the place for hours, having a panic attack alone as he tried and failed to forget bad memories, bruised ribs, falling fast, losing control.

None of those were particularly healthy places for him to be spending his free time, so per therapist recommendation, he starts finding better spots to hang out, places that weren’t just a way to retraumatize himself.

The problem is that in Hawkins, there isn’t anywhere really to go unless he wanted to spend all day in a dingy old diner or in half abandoned shops downtown. He liked taking Max to the drive-in on the outskirts, but the point is he needs somewhere to go away from his step-family.

When Steve finds out about his new assignment, the rides to and from work and quick drop ins just to say hello turn into days off spent at the quarry together, nights spent in front of Steve’s huge TV set.

One day after a double shift at Melvald’s, they end up out back by the pool. The air conditioning in Steve’s old house was not the best when it came to humidity, and Billy doesn’t like to be too hot. Something about the feeling is too familiar, too much like being on the floor of the sauna, sweating bullets and pleading for his life.

Heat is also one of the many things that triggers coughing fits, making him hack up his lungs from the months he spent without clean air to breath, so Steve’s ushering him outside to dip their feet in the pool and get out of the stuffy old house before he gets sick.

The smell of chlorine wading off of the pool isn’t all that much better. The strong chemicals make his nose and his throat and his whole chest burn like fire. Just the smell of it is enough that he has to try to remember that that hasn't been his reality for almost a year now, that he isn’t in the storage room at the pool downing bottles of poison.

It doesn’t bother him so much though, because the bad stuff, that’s all in the past now, isn’t it?

He tries instead to focus on the good things, on the breeze that they do get in the beating down sun and the way it carries cool air off the surface of the pool, offering more relief from the heat than they could get inside Steve’s inferno of a mansion, and on feeling the sunshine warming his skin again, the cold water and the smooth liner against his calves submerged in the pool. He even tries to focus on Steve, leaning all his weight back on his hands outstretched behind him, sitting so close to Billy their knees bump in the water every time Steve kicks his legs out.

And quite frankly, it’s not particularly hard, paying attention Steve with the way he’s practically glowing in the summer sun. As much as winter was his season, his forever pale skin and how he could rock a sweater didn’t even hold a candle to the way he looks now.

Maybe he is wearing preppy khaki shorts and a sun visor, but the way his back freckles in the summer, the skin on his cheeks and his shoulders flushing from the heat, his long hair sticking to the back of his neck with sweat, it’s a sight that makes Billy's heart pitta-pat.

Still, as nice of a view as Steve makes for, nothing can distract him from the nagging feeling that has Billy on edge. That sense that his flesh will start burning if he stays out here too long, that he’ll lose control of his body. That he’ll hurt Steve.

If Steve’s old nail bat propped against the pool shed, or their newer method of self defense, a machete from the hardware store purchased after Billy's last panic attack, hidden underneath of the chairs, offer any indication, the feeling may be mutual.

Despite the aviators perched on Billy’s nose, Steve must notice that distant look in his eye, because he offers Billy a quaint smile and, using one hand to stand up, he announces, “Be right back, gonna go get us some stuff.”

Billy nods and vaguely wonders what ‘some stuff’ means before turning his attention back to his surroundings. Back to following his therapists advice and watching the ripples in the pristinely kept water, listening to the rustle of untrimmed grass when a breeze comes through, bumble bees in the neighbors yard, anything at all that might stop his mind from wandering.

He’s almost feeling grounded again when he feels a chill run down the back of his neck. Goose pimples fan out across his skin, a deep seated cold to contrast the heat. He knows the feeling well, he’d gone through six grueling months using it as his only advantage over the monsters out to get him.

Some rational part of his mind tells him it’s just a bead of sweat rolling down his back, a loose strand of hair from the messy bun Max had put in his hair that morning brushing against his skin, the fact that his legs are still submerged in the 70 degree water, but he isn’t feeling rational after that, and he feels panic setting in again.

He wants to go run and tell Steve, wants to grab something to defend himself, but he can’t, he’s just, frozen to the spot.

The feeling is gone as quickly as it came, but everything else feels different now.

The pool water feels sticky and warm, almost like it’s sucking him in. The cement surrounding it feels rougher against his palms, and so hot to the touch. He’s scared to even blink, afraid that on the other side of that calm darkness, he’s in that hell again, and this has all been some delusion.

There’s a bang from behind him, and he’s on his feet, heart racing a thousand miles a minute. He’s just short of reaching for the machete under the chair when he notices it’s just Steve.

He’s standing by the sliding door, having pushed it open with his knee so far that the glass hit off the other door, and balancing way too much. Feeling like his legs are going to give out from under him and bringing one hand absently to his chest, Billy breathes out, “Damn it, Harrington.”

“Sorry.” There's a sheepish smile on his face, which has gone pinker than even the sunburn with a hint of embarrassment. He has a bulky radio balanced on his hip, a glass of something in each hand, and a deck of cards tucked under his chin. “A little help?”

Hurrying up the steps, Billy takes the radio before Steve can drop it and smash it to bits on the concrete. Steve takes the opportunity to explain himself, “I made lemonade, my gramma's recipe, and I thought we could use something to do.”

Maybe it’s reckless, maybe it’s the exact opposite of what he should do, but he puts the radio on the table and lets Steve distract him from that creeping feeling with mundanities.

It’s almost funny, how getting out of the house for him used to mean partying and sneaking out to wreak drunken havoc on the town. Now it meant sipping lemonade and playing double solitaire and go-fish with the fallen King poolside, like he was in some retirement community or something.

The only thing that kept him from feeling too ridiculous was the radio, which was playing a decent selection of rock music, not too much of the glitzy stuff he pretended not to like or the poppy stuff Steve definitely did.

Once the sun went down, the smallest bit of orange and pink sky disappearing behind the thick trees, and all the breeze had died out, they moved away from the pool's edge to the plastic chairs, pushing two together and sitting cross legged so they were facing one another. The night air was thick with the smell of a burning citronella candle and chlorine.

The cards had been long ago abandoned, both of them favoring just being in each other’s company, swapping stories of how bad work had sucked that day, and things like plans for the week. Billy sort of just likes having an excuse to look at Steve all night.

It’s more calm than Billy’s had in a long while since coming back, and he almost get to appreciate it before the chill comes back, this time accompanied by the distant rustling of leaves.

He could’ve pretended it was just a critter moving around or the trees settling, but then they hear the unmistakable sound of a monster's trill further out in the woods, and there’s no longer any doubt about it.

Steve freezes, looks to Billy with eyes as wide as saucers and, slowly as can be, reaches blindly behind himself until his hand closes around the base of the wooden bat, which had been moved closer as night fell.

He rises to his feet, stopping cold when the chair creaks as his weight lifts off it, trying to make as little noise as possible, an action mostly pointless with the radio still on. It’s too late anyways, they’d already been seen. Billy could feel it.

“Stay here. I’m just going to check it out.”

“No way, out of the two of us, I’m the only one who’s ever killed one of those things.” Steve looks like he wants to argue, wants to be noble and brave like he has to be for everyone else, so Billy tells him sternly, “I’m coming with you.”

And maybe Steve doesn’t refuse his help, but he isn’t looking at Billy either. His gaze, empty and exhausted, is trained on the trees, searching for signs of the monsters they’re both used to handling on their own. He leans into Billy’s side as they start into the woods, and he can feel him shaking.

The leaves and twigs all along the ground that crunch under their tennis shoes as they move deeper into the woods sound impossibly loud, drawing enough attention to their location that this was guaranteed not to be a surprise attack.

Billy would’ve preferred it that way, they were easier to kill if they weren’t expecting a fight, but he supposed he should just be grateful that they’d found them before they could make their way into Steve’s backyard and take them by surprise.

They reach a clearing and he gets a dreadful feeling like his entire body has been dipped in ice water, and he knows they're right in the middle of a swarm. Instinctively, he puts his arm out across Steve’s chest. “Stop.”

“What?” Billy doesn’t respond, but as Steve’s eyes adjust, he notices them too. About six or seven demodogs, behind trees and bushes, hiding from their prey. He whispers harshly right into Billy’s ear, “Do you think they see us?”

“No shit.”

“Then what the hell are they doing?”

“Waiting for their chance. But we’re not gonna give it to them.” He digs the heels of his Chuck’s into the dirt, grip tightening on the machete. He glances over at Steve and tries not to think too hard about the apprehension written across his features, “You ready for a fight?”

Steve pales, like he was never expecting it to get that far, but they were about thirty feet, maybe further, into the woods already, they wouldn’t be able to book it back to Steve’s house in enough time. The damn things were much too fast. He swallows hard, whispers, “How do I kill one?”

“Aim for the base of its skull. Never let it get your weapon in its mouth. Always pay attention to your surroundings.” His voice is quiet, but stern, trying not to let any fear slip into his tone that might make the other boy more afraid. He was the experienced one, if he were to let it show that he was scared, Steve might go running for the hills. “And Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Plant your goddamned feet.” Steve nods, furrows his brows and tries to force a breathy chuckle at the call back, but he barely manages a huff, and Billy can tell he’s terrified.

They don’t have time to think about it though, in the middle of a swarm he can’t let him dwell on it for too long, so he turns his attention off of Steve, and whistles, shouts “Hey, assholes! Come and get us!”

There’s a breathless second where the dogs don’t move an inch, he can tell Steve is about to say something that could’ve gotten the both of them killed so he cuts him off, “Get ready, Harrington.” One of the demodogs, he’s guessing the leader of the freakish pack based on the sheer size of it, shrieks, the cue for the others to start charging them.

These ones are fast, probably faster than even he’s used to, and he doesn’t like how close the first one gets to Steve before he brings his bat down it, so he pulls him closer by the back of his shirt, presses their backs together so there’s less room for a surprise.

The big one comes after Billy, the bigger threat of the two. The sense works as a two way street, if he can tell where they are, they can tell where he is, and they don’t like that.

It only takes him a few swings to get it stumbling, two more to finish it off, but in the time it takes him to kill the one, he loses track of where Steve is. Frantically he looks around, taking note of the location of the dogs, until he finds him in the dark a few feet off from where he is, swinging his bat at the runt over and over, making sure it was good and dead.

And Billy would be impressed, except for there was another dog charging him, just a few seconds off from closing its teeth around Steve’s arm on the backswing. It’s too close for him to try to kill it, so he kicks it, making it hiss and tumble across the muddy ground.

Steve looks over at him, blood spattered on his face and fear in his eyes. Billy wishes he could stop and appreciate the close call, but it’ll come back, and there’s another charging from the other side, so he settles for shouting, “Just remember what I told you and you’ll be alright!”

With the biggest out of the way it’s easy pickings, Billy takes out the next one that tries him quick, but another catches him off guard, clamps it’s teeth down hard on the machete, lodging it in its mouth. It gets cut bad, but not enough to really do much damage to it. If he lets go, he’s defenseless, if he doesn’t, he’s going to lose his arm.

That’s a call he’s almost willing to make, wrenching his weapon free at the risk of getting himself bit, but he doesn’t have to, because Steve takes it for him, running over from somewhere and bringing the bat down hard on the back of its head.

It would be too distracting to thank him, so he just nods his way and turns back to the last two dogs still alive, Steve taking the one that was still hiding and leaving the other for him.

At this point, he’s feeling pretty confident, one dog on its own is nothing much to worry about, and it seems it knows it too, because it stops a few feet off, daring him to come at it first. He takes his own advice and plants his feet in the dirt, daring it right back.

It charges him, and he stabs it straight through its head. It was a weak one, a last line of defense they didn’t expect to need, and it hisses out it’s final breath after only one go.

Billy hears the one Steve went after scampering off too, judging from the uneven drag of its weight across the forest floor, hurt badly enough it won’t last long.

He tries to feel for any others, but they don’t travel in packs that big, not without an order to follow. He rolls his shoulders and relaxes his stance, but he doesn’t dare dream of letting go of the machete yet. Even as it drips sticky slime and gore in thick drops onto the ground, even if it feels so heavy in his hands, also splattered with gooey blood.

There’s a moment of disturbing calm, the bodies of maimed demodogs scattered all around them as Billy tries to remind himself that they’re in his world this time, instead of him in theirs. He closes his eyes to shut out the panic and just listens.

Listens for gentle reminders that he’s in the real world. The sound of the katydids in the trees. A stray breeze rustling the leaves, dry from the relentless heat. The distant scratch of tires on pavement. Softly bubbling water from the jets in Steve’s pool.

He notices that the radio is still going, making the whole thing feel somehow more eerie, as if interdimensional monsters lurking in the neighborhood wasn’t bad enough on its own. Like when a car goes off the road, still playing a reckless teenager's final anthem. Billy wonders what song he’d like to be playing when he died. Maybe some Misfits.

But he isn’t dead, not yet anyhow, and that’s not the music that’s drifting out to where he’s still standing stock still in the woods, waiting for reality to hit him.

REO Speedwagon with Can’t Fight This Feeling carries softly out to their location, probably one of the lamest songs to fight monsters to if you were to ask Billy.

I can't fight this feeling any longer

And yet I'm still afraid to let it flow

What started out as friendship has grown stronger

I only wish I had the strength to let it show

Though he’s got to admit, it’s not a horrible song for this thing he has going with Steve. After that close call of the dogs stalking so close to his house, Billy doesn’t think he has it in him to let the chance to bring it up with Steve slide through his fingers again. He’d never forgive himself.

I tell myself that I can't hold out forever

I said there is no reason for my fear

“Harrington.” When he opens his eyes again Steve isn’t there, and for a second he’s got to fear the worst. To wonder, if the dogs aren’t the only thing he’ll find dead. “Steve?”

'Cause I feel so secure when we're together

You give my life direction, you make everything so clear

“M’here, Bill.” He's leaning against a tree, his bat still held close at his side, looking winded, but alright, from what Billy can tell at least. “Just needed to, to catch my breath.”

And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight

You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night

And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might

“You scared me, asshole.” Billy gathers his courage, rides the wave of adrenaline to take a step closer, until he’s hovering right in front of him, dangerously close, to say, “Listen Steve, there's something I’ve been thinking about for a while, and after this I just, I can't fight it anymore.”

He gets the memo, half-lidded eyes focusing on Billys lips, making him flick his tongue across them on instinct, tasting remnants of strawberry chapstick and lemonade dulled by the scent of copper. “Then don't fight it.”

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

It's time to bring this ship into the shore

And throw away the oars, forever

Their weapons are tossed to the ground before Billy closes the small gap that was left between them, ignoring all the muck and goo and blood splattered on their clothes and their skin to cup the side of Steve’s face, kiss him as soft and as sweet as he knows how after a fight like that.

'Cause I can't fight this feeling anymore

I've forgotten what I started fighting for

And if I have to crawl upon the floor, come crashing through your door

Baby, I can't fight this feeling anymore

Steve pulls away too soon, a soft gasp escaping his lips as he leans forward, forcing his weight onto Billy. The magic of the moment comes crashing down, when he notices how dreadfully pale Steve is, even in the darkness of the woods, untouched by street lamps or moon light.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Through gritted teeth, he mumbles into Billy’s shirt, “I think one got me.”

“Jesus, you're telling me this now?” He helps him lean back against the tree again, feeling he has the right to fret over him after a first kiss. “Where at?”

“My leg.” He says it so casual, Billy’s expecting nothing more than a nick, a last attempt at a scratch from a dying dog, but it’s bad.

Skin and muscle are torn through in a gash probably five inches long on Steve’s leg, deep enough he swears he can almost see bone. It’s already bruised dark, deep purple and black under all the blood, and bent just a little, like the bone had been cracked, but not quite broken.

Billy has to fight the urge to wince, to gag, to let any sort of panic over the severity of the bite show, because he knows Steve hasn’t seen it yet, that he’s maybe even in shock right now. The moment he let it show how bad he thought it was, Steve could pass out on him. Or worse.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Thought we were having a moment.”

“Well I’d like to have at least a few more, if you wouldn’t mind.” He sighs, but he drops the attitude. Stressed as he may be, Steve needs him level headed right now. “Can you walk?”

“Sure, yeah.” Something about the way his voice sounds like he’s struggling for air makes Billy not believe him, but he offers him his arm to let him test his weight anyways. It doesn’t go well, “Son of a mother bitch!”

“Yeah, I’m gonna take that as a no.” Billy figures it’d be better just to come back for their weapons later than to wait around for a second attack with an injured Steve, or to get sliced to ribbons carrying them and Steve back to the house. Because that’s what he’s going to have to do, from the looks of it.

He bends down and lets Steve wrap his arms loosely around the back of his neck, and hooks his hands under his knees to lift him. With his leg off the ground, he’s guessing Steve must catch a glimpse of how badly it’s torn up, because he throws his head back and mutters an “Oh shit.” to the stars.

Billy wishes his voice sounded more certain when he assures him, “You’ll be alright, just don’t look at it.”

There’s blood dripping from Steve’s leg on the grass, all on the concrete steps from the backyard that lead into Steve’s house and then the hardwood floors. Billy tries not to think about how they’re leaving behind a trail that would lead the monster straight to them.

They’d killed the dogs though, so he tries his damndest to believe that his biggest worry right now would be not being able to get the stains out before Mr. and Mrs. Harrington got back.

“Where do you keep the first aid around here?”

“Upstairs bathroom, third door on the right.”

Billy frowns. Trying to get him up the stairs was going to be awkward, the space between the wall and the banister so narrow, and Steve’s legs so long. The only way he can keep from dragging his wound against anything, which he’s almost positive would kill Steve at this point, is to turn sideways.

It feels like it takes forever to get up the steps and walk down the upstairs hallway, dodging side tables and potted plants until they reach the bathroom.

Even once they get there, Billy winces, taking in the tall, but thin door frame. “M’not fitting through here with you, Stevie. Gonna have to let you down.”

“Okay.” His jaw tightens, like he knows it’s gonna be hell to put pressure back on his leg, and Billy thinks about how he’d rather knock out the entire wall than have to watch Steve hurt himself.

But slowly, with Billy’s help, he gets his good foot back on the ground, and his arms unwrap themselves from the back of his neck. Billy keeps one hand holding tight on his hip, to keep him from toppling over while standing on one leg.

“Let me go in first, okay?” Turning around so they’re facing each other, he gives Steve both of his hands and kicks the half opened door the rest of they way open to reveal the dark bathroom behind him. He gets Steve to use the doorframe as a brace long enough that he can turn the light on, then gives him his hand again.

Steve takes the first step, hopping on one foot and making barely any progress. A steely look crosses his face, like he’s already decided what he’s about to do, and he lets his other foot down to the ground.

“That’s it, Stevie, just like that,” Billy mutters little encouragements under his breath, tries anything to keep Steve from thinking about walking on a broken leg. “Keep it coming, baby, just a few more steps.”

The closest thing to the door is a double tiered wooden shelf with magazines and towels on it, so Billy pushes the towels onto the floor with one hand and helps Steve sit down on it with the other.

Maybe it’s the wallpaper, but his complexion looks ghastly, all green and grey where he should be flushed and lively. Before he starts getting everything together, Billy puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “You good?”

It was a stupid question, Steve scoffs and says, his voice strained, “No.”

“At least you’re honest.”

Steve groans and stares up at the ceiling, ignoring his leg and the puddle of blood spreading on the tiled floor. “Shouldn’t I be at the hospital right now?”

“Normally, I would say yes,” Billy crouches down by the sink, digging in the cabinets underneath it for the first aid and a rag, “But closest hospital to us is the general hospital, and they’re not going to be thinking about demodog infections. They’ll put a cast on this thing and kill you.”

“Oh.” A poor choice of words, because Steve whispers, “I’m not gonna die, am I?”

“Not if you let me take care of you.”

He soaks through three wash rags with blood before the bleeding slows down enough that Billy can clean it, and slowly the shocked state of mind he was in starts to wear off. At least, judging from the way he’s gripping the edge of the shelf he’s sitting on so hard his knuckles turn white, it’s starting to hurt him pretty bad.

But Steve stays agonizingly quiet as Billy works anyways, hardly even wincing, despite the obvious amount of pain he’s in. Billy clicks his tongue, “I know you’re holding back on me, Steve.”

“You’re one to talk.” He’s defensive, borderline hysterical. “Mister pretending to be tough just because you’ve been through this once.”

“Next time I’ll just let the dogs get you, then.”

Ignoring Billy's rudeness, Steve mutters, “It just hurts so fucking bad.” A tear he’d been trying to hold back slips past, running a track through the dirt and blood that had gotten on his face.

“I’ll get some pain meds in you in a minute, just need you to be alert for this.” 

He swallows thickly, like he’s scared. “Ready for what?”

“Well, you’re gonna need stitches.” 

“Do you even know how?” 

He didn’t. The most he’d ever sewn was a tiny hole in a jacket sleeve, but he didn’t feel it wise to tell him that. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.” 

“No way. Absolutely not.” Steve grabs his hand tight to emphasize his point. “You are not coming anywhere near me with a needle.” 

“Look, the alternative is it gets infected and you lose the leg. Or, you know, since nobody has ever survived a bite, your life.” He’s not trying to be snappy, but the more blood Steve loses, the more nervous he’s getting about wasting time arguing.

“Man, could you cut back on being an asshole for like, five minutes.” Billy rolls his eyes and tries to reach for Steve’s leg again, but he pulls away from his touch, blinking real slow like he made himself dizzy or he’s getting sick, before he tacks onto the end, “I’m wounded.” 

“I know, I'm just trying to help you, Stevie. Please.” 

Sighing and running his fingers through his hair, he puffs his cheeks out with a sigh and gives in with Billy’s pleading. “Whatever, just, get it over with quick.” 

He goes back to not saying anything, biting his tongue while Billy tries to do a decent patch up. It looks somehow even gnarlier than before, with crooked and sloppy sutures, but it stops the bleeding for long enough that Billy can wrap it as tight as he can with some gauze and an ace bandage.

He sits back on the balls of his feet, and takes note of how they were definitely going to have to go to the government hospital where he’d been treated in the morning. Steve’s quiet so he asks, “Steve?” 

“M’good.” He assures halfheartedly, leaning forward to hold his head in his hands. “Doin’ just peachy fucking keen.” 

They stay upstairs, Billy completely unwilling to try to get Steve back down to the main living room on a busted leg. He'd have to worry about showering and getting the stains that’re all over the Harrington’s floors off later, right now he was just worried about making sure Steve made it through. 

There’s a second living room, a foyer, Steve calls it, at the end of the hall, so he takes him in there, lets him sprawl out on the couch while he goes to get a phone and something for Steve to take from the first floor. 

He snatches up the rotary off the coffee table, and goes digging in the medicine cabinet for pain killers. Near the back is a bottle of Vicodin, thank god for Mrs. Harrington’s many ailments and her equally surplus supply of pain pills. 

Before making his way back up to Steve, he remembers to make sure to lock the sliding doors. Not that it would do much to really stop a demodog, but it’s the thought that counts. He decides to tack a blanket up to block the glass too, in hopes that it might make their scent at least a little harder to track. 

Steve is hesitant to take his mother’s prescription, afraid of the side effects, but then he tries to drag his leg up from the floor to prop it on the coffee table so he can get more comfortable, and his mind changes right quick. He almost convinces Billy to let him take more.

Next is letting somebody know. Part of him wishes they could just sweep this whole thing under the rug and forget it, but this was a small town. The woods behind Steve’s house stretched all the way to the now empty Byers’ residence, to the Wheeler's, and from there to Hop’s cabin. 

Keeping this a secret would cost lives, that he could be sure of. One measly pack of demodogs weak enough to be taken out by the two of them was guaranteed not to be the last. This was the start of another battle, and they needed as many people as possible to be ready for it.

He sits down with the phone next to Steve on his own cushion, careful not to jostle the couch too much. “Do you know Hop’s number?” 

“Just give it here.” 

Billy watches Steve dial the number, not a fan of how instinctual an action it seems to be, and as he barely gets a word in edgewise over Hopper on the other end of the line. When he get the chance to breaks the news, the call is over almost immediately, Hop getting ready to warn everyone else. He hangs up with tears in his eyes and a defeated posture. 

The instant the phone is discarded on the side table, Steve tells him, his voice thick with tears and exhaustion and pain, “I don’t wanna do this again, Bill.” He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and shakes his head. “Just, last time, we were so close to losing Hopper, losing you, and I just- I can’t do it.”

“Hey. Look at me, Steve. It's not gonna be like last time. You got me now.” Steve does look over at him, his eyes wide, but he only cries harder. 

Not knowing what else to do, Billy tosses an arm over his shoulder and pulls him close, and Steve leans into his touch, but there’s a deep frown on his face. Billy thinks his heart breaks clean in two as he insists, in a voice so worn, so dejected, “That’s just one more thing for me to lose.” 

“I say it’s one more person looking out for you.” His heart fluttering in his chest, he prays the kiss in the woods wasn’t a heat of the moment thing, and presses another to the side of Steve’s head. 

As best he can with his leg up on the coffee table, Steve settles up against Billy's side, sighing heavy through his nose. 

Long enough passes that he thinks Steve’s fallen asleep, the pain meds would hopefully knock him out soon, but then he breaks the silence with a quiet, so gentle Billy almost doesn’t hear it, “Will you?”

“Will I what?” 

“Look out for me?” The way he says it, it’s almost like he’s embarrassed to ask, so unable to believe that somebody would care about him instead of the other way around. 

“‘Course.” Billy smiles despite the way seeing Steve so broken makes him feel, lets the fingers on one hand trail lazily up and down Steve’s arm in a way he hopes is comforting. “Even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight, remember?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, but he presses himself somehow even closer to Billy and sighs a little laugh, sniffling. “God, you're never gonna let that go, are you?” 

“Hey, I’d rather remember our first kiss as being to REO Speedwagon, which is super lame by the way, than with you bleeding out in the woods, so.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Steve sits up a little straighter so he can look him in the face. There’s still some sadness in his expression, but there’s a hint of a smile too, and Billy will take that as a win any day. Teasingly, Steve says, “Maybe you’ll like the second one better.”

“We’ll just have to see won’t we?” He leans in, but it’s Steve who initiates the kiss this time, leading with more heat behind it than before. He tangles his hands in Billy's hair, deepening the kiss with the press of his tongue against Billy’s. 

The angle isn’t very comfortable, a crook forming in Steve’s neck to reach Billy, and they pull apart for a breath. Face flushed beet red, Steve whispers, “Hey, Billy?” 

Billy hums in response, too flustered to get his words in order, “Hm?” 

“REO Speedwagon isn’t that bad.” 

[whatifxwereyou]

Ashes Chapter 9: City Lights

Pairing: Liu Kang x Reader

A good night, for the most part. You search for peace amongst the stars but you find something else instead. I hate writing summaries. Lol.

A/N: Hope you're all doing well. Thanks for reading! I'll be busy on Sunday because it's my birthday, but I will still be updating~

First Chapter << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

Afternoon became an evening spent with Cole, Allison, and Emily. You ate an early dinner, returned to the hotel, and found one of Johnny Cage’s movies to watch. You mostly laughed at it. “Gist of My Fist’ was a terrible name for a movie and the movie itself, while it wasn’t the worst movie that you had ever watched, was pretty up there. You had no qualms with bad movies. Watching it had at least prepared you for tomorrow if you had to use your arcana to persuade the actor into helping you.

When they were ordering room service and preparing another movie you said your farewells. It was late, you’d claimed, and you weren’t very hungry. You were socially exhausted, and you really weren’t hungry. So, it hadn’t exactly been a lie. It had been ages since you’d spent that much time with anyone outside of Kung Lao and Liu Kang in a social setting and it had drained you. You had forgotten how exhausting other people could be. They were incredibly nice, and you had become more comfortable around them, but you still needed to recharge your social battery.

That and you had to resist going to the bar for a drink.

Whiskey had been your lullaby nearly every night after Kung Lao had died.

Waking up next to Liu Kang had sobered you up but it had been days since then and your brain was so loud. A little drink would quiet it down. It was a bad idea, and you knew that but it didn’t mean you didn’t want to. The price of liquor at the hotel was enough to make you decide to think on it.

Instead, you decided to go to the roof where there was a garden setup for guests. At that late at night most people were leaving the garden, bothered by the nighttime bugs. You sat away from those who remained for some time, watching the world pass by below and the clouds moving over the ocean in the distance.

As time passed, you were left alone. You were both grateful for the silence and frustrated by the thoughts that immediately filled it. There had been a time where you’d been grateful to be alone and now it was torture. Raiden had been right to send Liu with you except that he was a big part of the reason that your thoughts were torture.

A pretty substantial part of why your thoughts were torture, actually.

What did anything mean anymore? You didn’t know.

Seated on one of the garden benches, you stayed silent for a long time. Once certain you were alone, you dared to do something that you hadn’t done since he’d died.

You drew Kung Lao.

He stood before you, tall, with a permanent look of smug satisfaction on his face. You walked around him and admired the details in his clothing right down to the misplaced thread on his favorite shirt. Then you stood beside him and watched the night sky. The stars were few and far between. There were too many lights in that part of the world to see the majesty of the night sky that you had admired only nights before alongside Liu Kang.

“I miss you.” You knew that the drawing couldn’t respond. It wasn’t real. Kung Lao was gone. You were alone. “I wish that I could talk to you. I wish I could tell you all the things that I made you wait to hear.” All you’d wanted was a conversation. A real conversation about what he thought marriage meant, about the fighting you’d done in the past few months. A moment for you to be honest about your history with Liu Kang.

Instead, he’d died and you’d never gotten the chance to say yes. You’d never gotten to understand what any of it had meant. You should have just said yes, damnit.

Liu Kang’s words were eating you alive.

Had your connection to him made you hesitate? He’d broken your heart and you’d gotten over him, sort of. You’d distanced yourself, at least. Now you were tearing yourself apart from the inside out because you were afraid it was true. What did it matter if it was? You would never know. Even so, you fixated next to the carefully crafted apparition of a man that you’d loved with your whole heart.

Nothing about this was healthy.

You were exhausted.

Stepping back from the drawing of Kung Lao, you lowered into a ready position. When you’d been angry with each other, bored, or you were frustrated, Kung Lao would spar with you. It usually ended up with you wrestling around laughing or in bed. Sometimes both. The drawing of Kung Lao did as you asked. It fought you and for a time it was soothing to keep up the action of something that you were good at.

You lost your balance on the stone and the ink caught you, wrapping its arms around you, and pulling you close against it. You admired his face and he smiled. He smiled because you wanted him to smile. Just the way that he used to. His hand cupped your cheek and you leaned into it, resting your hand over his.

Your eyes misted with tears. “I’m sorry, Kung Lao.” Time was supposed to heal all things but you weren’t sure that anything could do away with the guilt you felt. Closing your eyes, you tried to pretend that the hand wasn’t cold, dark ink. It was his warm and comforting hand. He would be there smiling down at you, telling you that you’d worried over nothing. You’d overthought it.

Then you were falling, your footing completely lost. Water pulled back from the shore, moving further and further away. It would come back tall and angry; it was a pattern you recognized. It meant you had to run but you couldn’t move. Hadn’t you been on the roof? The sand was hot beneath your toes and you were stuck. Your body was rooted firmly in place beyond your control.

The water rose in a wild roar, obscuring the sky with a sun that burned a brilliant red. You tried to scream, to warn others who might be in danger but there was no one. The air was suffocatingly hot, scorching. But as the wave grew closer, your stomach dropped into a tremendous pit and you felt sick. The air stunk of death and a wave of bodies soared toward you, towering high above. Winged creatures like giant bugs flew overhead through the dark skies. They were massive and you tried to get a better look, but the sun was so bright you couldn’t make out much of their features.

A dark figure stood before the wave of bodies surrounded by the roaring of souls. A hand grabbed your arm and turned you around swiftly.

Kung Lao.

Your heart stopped.

“You have to run, Y/N,” he whispered with such urgency that you swore it was really him. There was no way. It wasn’t possible! Before your eyes, his skin became sallow and sickly, deteriorating and rotting, cracked and filled with green mist. You fought his grip in a panic and pulled back. “Y/N…”

Your feet unstuck from the sand and you gasped, falling backwards. You braced yourself for the fall but instead you were saved by a pair of strong, inky arms. You grasped desperately onto the form and caught your breath. Your lungs ached as though they were being crushed.

The drawing of Kung Lao had caught you.

You buried yourself against the drawing’s chest and sobbed as you caught your breath.

This was not Kung Lao. Your grasp on the drawing tightened.

It was Liu Kang.

Panicked, you dropped the magic and collapsed to your knees out of breath and trembling from head to toe. You were clammy and dripping with sweat. Cursing under your breath you held your head in your hands. That hadn’t been a dream. The other night hadn’t been either. You should have known better. What did it mean? And what were you going to do about it? You had to talk to Raiden. He would know what to do.

This was the last thing that you needed right now.

Stumbling to your feet you made your way back to the garden bench just as the door opened behind you. Resting your elbows on your knees, you fanned your face and tried to will away the nausea left behind by the vision. It was already disappearing from your memory. You’d never been good at interpreting what your visions meant. They’d mostly made you sick.

Liu Kang stopped on the other side of the garden bench and avoided your eyes. “Oh.”

“I can go.” You needed a minute to be steady on your feet, but you’d had your time on the roof with the few stars.

“You don’t have to. I just wanted to see the stars.” He folded his arms over his chest.

“Too much light pollution. You can’t see much.” You pushed your hair away from your face and rested your hands on your knees afterwards. The world was still spinning. Liu was watching you and then sat next to you on the bench.

“Are you okay?” He made to rest a hand on your back but stopped himself.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re gray.”

“I’m tired. That’s all.”

“I haven’t seen you this gray since you first came to the temple, and you had…” He drifted off as if realizing exactly why you were that gray. You wanted to deny it until you could talk to Raiden, but your body betrayed you. You were too tired to fake it. Your fingers were tingling with numbness, and you were nauseous.

“Yeah.” You sighed. “I’m fine.”

“If you had a vision, you would tell me, right?”

“I’m not in the mood for this.”

“Y/N, don’t be unreasonable.”

“Do you have a reason to still be talking to me? Or are you just here to make tonight harder?” You didn’t mean to snap at him and immediately regretted it. You were feeling sick and defensive. Also, you had accidentally made him out of ink for the first time in years and wondered what that meant for your subconscious.

He smiled. You turned away and pouted. “I thought you’d been lying about having a temper to make me feel better.” You puffed up your cheeks in frustration. “I owe you another apology, I think.” He counted on his fingers, and you turned back to watch him. “That’s the third one this week, right?”

“You probably owe me more than one apology at this point.”

“Yeah, but how many times can I apologize before it becomes meaningless?” He was trying to joke with you, and you needed to try and unclench. It was bad timing, all of it. “I am though. Sorry, that is. Not about last night, well maybe about pushing you so hard but… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take any of this out on you.”

“I know.” Perhaps that was part of why it had hurt so badly. None of it had ever felt like your Liu Kang. “I’m sorry too. I handled it poorly.”

“I’ve been told that we’re grieving.” He clasped his hands before him.

“Yeah, that’s what we keep saying.”

“I had an idea.”

“Is this idea going to make us yell at each other? Because if it is then I would very much like the chance to reschedule.”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t think it will.” His brow furrowed into a line.

“Well, go for it, I guess. Idea away.”

“I’m grieving in my own way.” He shrugged but he looked weighed down and you felt guilty again. “Not well, obviously. And you’re grieving in your own way too. Also, poorly I might add.”

“I thought you said that you weren’t picking a fight.”

“I’m not.” He reassured you. “I thought that maybe we could try grieving together.” He was staring at you again, and you sighed heavily.

“I don’t know, Liu.” You could think of a dozen reasons why that was a bad idea and wouldn’t work off the top of your head. But it was the first non-confrontational thing he’d done in days. “He was your brother. You lost something like a limb. I love Kung Lao but what we had was different. Our grief is not the same.”

“Your grief is no less significant than mine, Y/N.”

“It is, Liu. You lost more than I did. I know what I lost. But it’s different. You lost so much more.” Your eyes were burning again. God, you were so frustrated with your emotions.

“And now I’m losing you too.” Liu spoke with a bite of frustration and then looked as if it was taking all his focus not to lash out. “I don’t want to lose you, Y/N.”

“I can’t fill the void that Lao left behind.”

“I don’t want you to. I don’t even want you to fill the void that you left behind.” He held his head in his hands. You wanted to say you didn’t do that, he had pushed you away, but you also knew why he’d done it. This was a terrible mixed bag of emotions. If you said that then you would definitely end up fighting again. You held your tongue. “I miss you. I don’t need you to fill a void. I just need you.”

“Liu…” You hesitated and felt the guilt in the pit of your stomach again. But he was asking for something for himself, and you couldn’t tell him no. He never asked for anything for himself. He picked up your hand like it were something delicate and you felt your heart just aching. What would Kung Lao do if he could see you now? In your mind’s eye you could see him resting his hands on your shoulders and telling you it was okay. But that was just what you wanted to see.

“Don’t do that, Y/N.” Liu’s eyes were glassy too and he turned away. “You’re allowed to have feelings.”

“Isn’t this part of why we keep fighting?” You sniffled but didn’t pull your hand away from his. “You keep making assumptions about what I’m feeling. Saying things without thinking first. You have no idea what’s going on in my head, Liu Kang.”

“I’m not trying to start a fight, I promise.” Liu closed his eyes as if to try and recite what he would say so it wouldn’t come out wrong. He used to be so thoughtful. This really was taking a toll on you both. “I just know you well enough, or I think I do, to see that you’re beating yourself up for things that are beyond your control.”

“I…” You hesitated and then pulled your hand back. “Kung Lao…”

“Kung Lao loved you, Y/N.” Liu Kang said with a huff. Did he resent that he had? “He wanted you to be happy. It would crush him to see you now.”

“I know that, Liu. I know and… he would have wanted that for you too. You always put your needs beneath his and he let you without realizing, I think and…” You didn’t mean to say that, and Liu was staring at you in surprise as if he hadn’t realized that he’d been doing that either. When you caught his gaze, he turned to avoid you. You were playing an extremely dangerous game of cat and mouse. “It’s impossible to know what might have been, Liu Kang. To know how it would have turned out. What he would have wanted. No matter how I spin it in my head there is nothing to be done that can change the truth that he’s gone.” You spoke slowly and carefully, not wanting to escalate the sudden tension further if you could help it. It only ended one of two ways and both of those were destructive. “No matter what I tell myself… it doesn’t ease my guilt.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” Liu was sounding bitter again and you held your head in your hands once more. You were still nauseous. This was the worst.

“I don’t have it in me to fight with you tonight, Liu,” you whispered. “I just don’t. Give me a day or two and we can be at each other’s throats again.”

“I don’t want to fight with you, Y/N.” He turned to you again. “We need to talk.”

“I know but I’m not sure we can do that without fighting.” You closed your eyes. You sat in uncomfortable silence, a now common occurrence. Your stomach was in knots.

“Are you sick because you had a vision? Or are you sick with grief, Y/N?” His tone was soft as if he were trying to ask a hard question without making it sound like a confrontation. You whined.

“I had a vision, okay?” You confessed. “I don’t know what it means. I need to talk to Raiden. It’s already almost gone. I remember a beach. I remember… being stuck and then I fell and…” The details were like drops of soap in water. Impossible to catch once they’d been mixed in. “I’ll be fine. It had just happened when you got here.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I had dinner with Cole and his family.” You decided to turn the tables on him. “Have you eaten?” He looked affronted.

“I… no… ummm…”

“Pot, kettle, black.” You poked his shoulder, and he smiled a little. “Stop worrying about me. Don’t fixate on it. I’m fine. Raiden will figure it out when we get back.” You reassured him and then sat there together quietly again, unsure what to say. You did know one thing, at least. “You need to eat.”

“I ate earlier, just been since this morning.”

“I stand by what I said.”

“I’ll eat if you come with me.” He suggested. “We can grab a drink in Kung Lao’s honor and reminisce. Try that grieving thing together.”

“That’s a terrible idea.” You laughed as he looked instantly insulted. “Liu, us and liquor? Historically? Not good.” Liquor made the consequences seem less significant. It made you care less about what went wrong. It clearly made him a little bolder, too.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t think about that.” He smiled a little. “No alcohol then. I just thought that it might make it easier to talk about the things that we are finding difficult to talk about if we had a drink.”

“Well, it would make some things easier but who knows how we’d feel about that tomorrow.” You wished, just for a brief second, that you remembered the night you’d had. You got all the trouble without any of the fun! You were sure that you’d had fun, but you couldn’t remember it, dammit.

“How about it, Y/N? We go downstairs to the bar, grab some food, no alcohol… we just… talk. Grieve.”

You considered it. You weren’t sure how that was going to work. You were in a place where the slightest thing could turn your conversation into an argument at the drop of a hat. But if you could find common ground to stand on then maybe it might make the rest of what you needed to say less painful.

“Okay.” You finally replied and Liu Kang seemed genuinely surprised.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. The truth is, Liu, that I miss you. This has been so incredibly trying and difficult for so many reasons. I swear though, if you make me cry again? I am going to punch you. No more slapping. Big ol’ punch. You will have a black eye to explain.” You didn’t think you’d actually punch him, but the threat was a little funny.

“Honestly, I am impressed that you haven’t yet.” Liu Kang stood and offered you his hand. “I stand by most of what I said though, even if I apologized.” He shrugged and you ran your tongue over your teeth and narrowed your eyes at him.

“Don’t start, Liu.”

Next Chapter >>

[sly-merlin]

KILLING ME -11 |N.Y

pairing : law student!reader + yuta

genre :    angst , mafia au/ arranged marriage au.

warnings of this chapter : cursing, explanatory mention of a pistol!

words :: ~5k

summary : “life’s never fair y/n. realise it as soon as you can . it is the only secret for living a regretless life.”                                  

or              

“  curiousity got the cat hitched”

taglist :: @kpop-choco​ @moon-yuta​ @kawaiiayasan​ @btm-taeyong​ @exfolitae​ @lanadreamie​ @cheersskznct​ @hyuckiesgf​ @theworld-accordingtocasey​  @yiyi4657​ @sorrywonwoo​ @sillywinnergladiator​ @suhweo @minejungwoo​ @leesalts​  @mal-nakamoto23​ @ro2424​ @itlittlefangirl​​ @nctzens-world​​ @bl--ankhaeji​​ @simplybree​​

 networks :: @kafenetwork​ @neowritingsnet​  @nct-writers​

K.M masterlist

K.M 10     next

a/n :: header was made with detailed instructions from lovely @cirrus-lily​ (thank you so much for your patience).

Previous night , taeyong’s office.

The thick, heavy unnatural silence was breached by the phone call. Taeil’s muffled words didn’t reach anyone’s ears but taeyong’s reaction was enough for an estimate!

“what did taeil say?”

Taeyong glanced at yuta’s hopeful yet helpless face. Taeil's order was far from what yuta's eyes sought. The past ten minutes were spent listening to the unsynchronized ticking of the clocks and some random whispering of the younger ones from the living room. And now, several pairs of eyes were asking for the answers.

“you will be stationed in nice, f-for two months.”

Yuta’s face hardened at his words. He gulped and opened his mouth to say something but stopped. The words stuck on his tongue would not be able to convey what he wanted to, he thought.

“with johnny?" Jaehyun uttered.

“no yuta is replacing him" taeyong mumbled, hiding his face in his hands.

Yuta snickered , “ as expected.” as much as he didnt want to sound bitter, his senses were not cooperating with him too much.

“this is not about you or johnny. It’s better if you both stay away fr-

“did taeil tell her the truth?” yuta coldly cut him off.

“i don't know about that!"

“then I'll have to do it myself." Yuta stood up, alerting everyone.

“do not stretch this yuta. This can end right here. Your absence woul-

“you got it wrong taeyong!” yuta cackled , “I'm dying to leave this place but don't you think she deserves to know that she's wrong here.”

“please yuta. For last time. trust taeil. this is the last thing I’m asking from you. You’d get the chance to explain. Ju-just not yet.” Yuta scowled at taeyong’s hollow pleading.

He inched forward slamming his palms on the table , “ since when did you start playing with wrong players taeyong? you are supposed to be the smarter one here. Who are you fooling here? you think I don’t know why she’s here or jaemin, jeno, jungwoo, chenle, jisung, mark, they don’t have a hint?” taeyong eyes danced around the room avoiding any contact as yuta continued, “Don't stretch this taeyong. this can end right here. without hurting another one and right before they can get attached. I hope when i come back , you would have sorted this mess out or you won’t have time to regret this time”

Scoffing at taeyong’s hunched figure, he smacked the table once before leaving the room.

Doyoung  followed soon , leaving Jaehyun and Taeyong alone.

Panic engulfed jaehyun’s entire being as he pondered over yuta’s words.

“he’s right. You saw her today. She’s getting worked up over a stupid misunderstanding and you saw the way taeil is acting! This was never the plan. She’s not timid. You cannot possibly make her agree to anything at all. Taeil would never let that happen. Heck! Yuta’s getting weirder these days. Let her go. We can wait unt-

“We. Can’t .wait. I know my limits, Jaehyun and two months are enough..” Taeyong whisper yelled “ I care about her more than you’d ever do so get the fuck out of here. You don't get to tell me what I should be doing.”

Jaehyun leered at the older man, muscles in his jaw twitching at his words  “you have lost it taeyong. if we fail this time, you’d be the one to blame.”

Perfectly ironed shirts were wrinkled as yuta threw them into the case. doyoung was ready to accompany but he refused all the assistance proposed to him. He left nothing. from t-shirts and pants to jumpers, he packed as if he was going for a one way trip to france.

He groaned , jumping on the suitcase, trying to bury the clothes deeper into the case so he could zip it. Once finished,he pushed the cases out of the room and into the hall. locking the door, his running and hurried eyes fell on the opposite room. It was bare of any presence. This was his first time peeking into your room. He was merely looking from afar but the very next second he found himself going through the album resting on the bed covers. a perfect normal photo album was calming enough to subside his inner turmoil.  

yuta scrunched his nose at the small girl who was either frowning or crying in most of the pictures. the family of three looked quite happy. But the girl didn't seem to resemble any of the adults. He almost let out a laugh at your wailing form in every other photo. Just looking at the pictures, anyone with two eyes could tell that you were a spoiled kid. No wonder you were full of attitude and ego, he thought.

closing it, he glanced at the room, simple and plain. Not that his own wasn’t but he couldn’t find anything that had prompted you to lock your door for the whole day. He left the room to lock his own but when he pocketed his keys, they met with something at the end of his pants pocket.

A grunt left his throat at the sight of the screws. He had placed them in his pocket to follow your fuming body, the reason of which he didn’t know back then. He was about to throw them on the bed when the album caught his eyes again. He cursed at himself for being so indecisive. Pacing back and forth , he noticed how composed he had suddenly become. He wasn’t feeling anger, just some traces of irritation for the whole drama that had unfolded.

Before he could convince himself otherwise, he took a paper from your desk, scribbled with a trembling hand and left it on the counter.

All while hoping taeil was actually being reasonable , just this once.

12:30 p.m

Looking through the power window, you stared at taeil’s arriving form, hands full with brown food bags. He hit the car door with his one knee prompting you to open the door from inside.

“when I say you are no better than others ,I really mean you are NO better than them!” taeil chortled as he shoved a bag into your lap.

“what did I do this time?” you rolled your eyes as you anticipated another moral lecture from him.

“nothing. you are making an old man to get food for you!”

“and I had suggested the said old man to enter the drive thru!”

“and drive thru is no fun, duh! The vintage the better!”

“just like someone I know! you exclaimed chewing the burger.

“very funny. You know highway stops are all about breathing in fresh air while stretching your arms, yawning so widely that you have to hide your face in your stretched arm to save yourself from the embarrassment. The first step out of the car after hours of driving feels like restoration of something that was denied to you for such a long time. and the second phase of happiness comes at the engine purring, the feeling is like no other, I’m telling you. but someone lost their chance to experience it .”

“you sound poetic taeil but you lack facts. The fresh air you just inhaled is what we consider a polluted one.I’ll prefer to sit inside and miss all that instead of going out and dying. So let go of the  fancy peace thoughts and develop your perceptions according to the changing world. The sound of this vintage engine is a source of headache and not happiness.Now lemme eat. IN PEACE”

“we’ll see whose perception changes” taeil mumbled munching on the fries.

You both ate in silence for 20 minutes. As the drive continued ,the stilled milieu took you back to the uncertainties you were trying so hard to suppress. When taeil had knocked at the door in the morning, which was beyond expectation at first, he gave you the liberty to question his actions but you had passed that opportunity, precisely to show that you weren’t that greedy. But you were! The endless queries were now making you anxious. Why did taeil come with you? what was the reason behind his pleasant behaviour, how could yuta agree to go like that? sure he liked your presence not more than you did but was he the kind to bow down so easily! Or was he designing something under the colour of acceptance. taken together ,you ended up being the ruthless one here. But the leading one was why did yesterday happen! Multiple stolen glances at Taeil were fairly noticeable; you were waiting for him to just start something. And he perhaps was waiting for you to initiate. Dilemma remained unsolved and you arrived in seoul just like you had left it, but visiting your parents had lessened the encumbrances weighing you down.

You were about to retreat after thanking him when he finally spoke up,

“b.n at 6! No exemption. And instead of racking your brain, just ask. it’s simpler than you make it to be y/n.”

Slamming the door shut , you dragged your feet for the apartment, shaking your head at the man.

Of course he knows everything! And maybe could ask him someday to get your own answers.

10 days later

The gun went off with a bang which if it hadn’t been for the ear protectors and the noiseless sheets, would have deafen your ears. Fingers pointed at the target, eyes coloured with impatience, jungwoo didn’t move. After he was done with his dramatic action, the glass shield slid and he entered inside.

“this is target A. this one is B” he asked for a confirmation with his wide eyes which you nodded at.

“right. so!” he walked circling the dry grass to stand between two targets, “so when I say hit at A, you should be firing at A, precisely aiming anywhere in this space.” he explained again, hand moving in front of the said space.

“I hit at the center jungwoo! The fucking center! For the first time in two weeks.”

“yes. You did hit the core but of the wrong target.”

“how does it matter? It's a perfect shoot”

Jungwoo blinked multiple times focusing on your puzzled face. He wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to annoy him or you seriously lacked a few braincells to understand where you were wrong!

“at the wrong target.” he pressed.

“but I still hit-

“Ok. listen to me carefully now. Lets assume A is taeil hyung and B is a killer. If i shout to you that kill B and you mistakenly shoot A instead then you’d end up killing taeil hyung instead of the killer and then you’d be a killer yourself and even if the shot was perfect it was targeted wrongly thats why when i say hit A, hit A and when i say B, hit B. understood now?” dumbfounded, you stared at him bobbing your head a few times to indicate you understood. But you really hadn’t.

“You are not lying right?”

“Dont accuse me of lying!”

“Oh! So you still don-

“hey beautiful!”

Your heads jerked towards the owner of the voice who had just interrupted the bickering.

“johnny” you whispered.

“I meant jungwoo y/n.” jungwoo sticked his tongue out at you as he jumped forward to hug johnny.

“When did you come back?”

“just now. I flew directly to Japan from nice. didn’t he inform you all? And why is nobody at home?”

a small smile graced your face while jungwoo started explaining to him about some business event. You felt like jungwoo won’t shut up anytime soon so you turned around from the scene and made yourself busy with the magazine. As you were counting the rubber bullets to fill the magazine, a pair of arms touched your both shoulders.

“wh-

“how are you y/n.”

“you done talking to your prince.”

Jungwoo groaned approaching you with a stern look.

“you’ll have plenty of time to chatter. Focus on your job instead!”

“ugh. You are so annoying. I’m done for the day.” You announced handing the pistol to him.

“wait! what am I missing here.” Johnny's eyes shifted , not knowing what was going on in his absence.

“yuta hyu-

“I know all that. I’m asking about the bullets!”

“Taeil told me to learn some basics to defend myself and jungwoo is my assigned teacher who don’t seem to appreciate my skills at all”

“liar!” Jungwoo screeched and continued, “she’s poor at shooting, hits anywhere but the point I’m indicating at an-and she never listens to me.”

Snorting dramatically at the end, he glares at you. you welcomed his complaining speech with a toothy grin which seemed to annoy him more. One thing you had learnt in the past two weeks had been that jungwoo was frustrating when he was hungry and during the time he was supposed to teach you, no food was allowed in the basement, making him a hunger monster.. Johnny watched the exchange with an amused smile, just like you were doing a few minutes ago.

“alright. You both need to chill. Jungwoo, she's not a professional so go easy on her and you! you should listen to him. or if you want I can be your tutor instead!”

“don’t hijack here. she's my student and I was chosen because I am the softest and the sweeter one her-

“who is a second away from having a breakdown!”

“no go out. You are not invited anymore. nobody is allowed here from 6 to 7:30 .” Jungwoo announced as he started pushing Johnny out the door.

‘”yaa! Jungwoo. I’m go- don’t push me you rascal. I am going. Bye y/n. I’ll be waiting upstairs.” He shouted and waved in the air which you, for no reason, found yourself returning even if he wasn't going to see it.

As johnny was gone, jungwoo pressed the switch again to close the partition. Coming behind you, his arms embraced you and he placed the gun in your hand as he ducked himself to reach your height with another try to improve the hand-eye coordination. Occupied with each other, you both missed the pair of eyes watching you both  in a very unpleasant manner.  

“how’s your research going?” johnny asked with a mouthful of meatballs.

“it’s meh! The library is under construction so I can't properly look through books and besides minjun is too whiny to let me do anything. I can’t leave that kid alone so we're always hanging out after 1. I’ve some resources saved so I’m fine for now” you replied.

“seems like that minjun guy makes you very happy. Is he the one?” jaehyun took your attention as he pinched his neck. You narrowed your eyes at his unnecessary remark.

“my happy pill is not minjun but you jaehyun dear. I haven’t seen you in like 5 days i guess? So that eliminated all the reasons for my unhappiness. Your absence is my elixir jae. ” You grinned. Jaheyun pointed his chopstick at you but before he could utter anything, taeyong spoke up.

“woah. Don’t you two start now.” he cried.

“he’s the one that starts everything! I just continue his shit for it-

“well I won't initiate if its not for that stinky tongue o-

“Shut up before I lock both of you in a room.”

Hearing several snickers, it seemed like taeyong was the only one getting annoyed, everyone else seemed to be enjoying it.

Just when you were about to pour more juice, everything else finished and left the table. it seemed strange as how fast they were done with their dinner.

“how can you all eat so quickly?” doyoung seemed to be more perplexed as he asked taeyong.

“don’t you both know?” you settled your chopsticks on the plate as taeyong proceeded, “the last two to finish cleans the dishes.”

You instantly scanned the whole dining table and the instant regret of eating like a sloth washed over your face. There were only three left and next second there were only two. Jungwoo shot up from seat with his stuffed mouth, waved and left. Taeyong didn’t waste any time before he also scurried away.

“this was a conspiracy y/n.” doyoung murmured.

“I know right. they knew it. w-we have to wash for 14 people.”

“look at the brighter side, we don’t have to hurry now.”

You shrugged at his words, filling your glass with juice again.

“you should not be drinking juice at nighttime.” He lectured

“then why is it on the table?”

“aish! You are impossible.”

“so are you.”

You continued bickering with doyoung until both of you were finished. Like everyone else, you too had started to find joy while annoying doyoung. The responses from him were always a treat. He was also awfully similar to you. the nit-picking in almost everything, forever sceptical body language and lastly the  identical frown you both wore all the time. but you were not the one that detected the similarities, it was doyoung himself.

It was not just doyoung! With exception of jaehyun, it seemed like everyone was trying to make you a part of their daily lives. The day after the incident, you had hesitated to knock the door, scared of their reactions towards you but the dark cloud of worry had floated away with the warmest hug jungwoo had welcomed you with. You detected no rejection, no unpleasant remarks, instead you were strictly instructed to not to leave the premises without having dinner. And that one day became two and two a routine. You were confused as you were the reason someone dear to them was somewhere he wasn't meant to be at the moment and yet they treated you like you were their own! For first few days you were at edge, the affection not digestible. Feeding your suspicions , you tried to choke something out of mark who was also your designated driver but all he unveiled was his endless jokes and contagious giggles weaved with the various stories. Each day he recited a new one, sowing the seeds of intimacy with his family which, you couldn’t deny, were sprouting into something unprecedented. However vague it was, you liked it. You liked this unsought acceptance, being included like a family, taking you back in the time. But you never had the luxury of an easy life. Was this worth trusting? Were you ready to return their affection by placing them on the pedestal as same as jungkook and yugyeom. But this house wasn no more reeking of any resentment and you were more than fine with that for now.

"Stack the glasses, I'll pick up the plates"

"This is so tiring" you complained while scraping the sauce on the plates.

"You'll get used to it." Doyoung deadpanned.

"Tell me why i agreed to this!"

"You know the rules. And don’t you remember because of you, I washed for 20 people that day! You deserve the suffering woman!”

You chuckled at the memory. A few days ago, You, doyoung and hyuck were the last ones remaining.  And you had won the rock paper scissors. Though the last two were the supposed cleaners, hyuck had ditched the poor boy, leaving him with extra load.

"You carry some heavy dark clouds on your head man. I don't know how you manage to end up with dirty utensils!every fucking single time" Doyoung glared at your remark and you both continued washing and wiping the dishes side by side.

"Where are the spoons?"

"On the table. Wait , I'll be back in 2 minutes!"

Carrying the cutlery you made your way back to the kitchen but chanting of a familiar name froze you in your steps.

"He's acting like a child johnny! Had he called you after you left?" It was taeyong speaking in a hushed manner, but he was not doing a very good job in whispering.

"Nope. He just took names and contacts of all the whistleblowers and that's it. But i can’t understand the need for that taeyong! I had everything in control. What do you wanna achieve with your stupidity!”

"Jaemin, hyuck and jisung are in constant contact  with him but only to receive the codes he's sending. He's just unreachable and I'm not just talking about his cell network johnny. I'm losing him. He- taeil thought it’s for the best. They won’t see each others face for sometime an-

“And everything would be fine? Right? Sounds very legit. Goodluck with daydreaming princess.”

Hearing some shuffling, you trudged for the kitchen, not wanting them to be aware of your eavesdropping.

Stretching the hem of your knee length skirt with your hands, you kicked your feet in the air to get the non existing elasticity to work. chances were not less but anybody could see you so while cursing at chelin for the tight skirt you made your way inside the office. Your bag made contact with your right hip as you walked into the office corridors. You entered the security doors through the pass that was generated online for first day entry.You never wanted to enter this side of the famous company but with minimum options available you had no choice but to associate yourself with this branch, infamous for saving culprits of money laundering, false accusations and what not.

“ms. y/n?” a receptionist shifted your attention to her tall frame. You affirmed with a nod and she extended her hand asking for the documents.

“I’ll place your original documents in our custody room. No need to worry, this is a mere formality as we don’t make interns sign confidentiality papers. As you already know , you can end your internship with a three weeks prior notice and when we receive that application, your document would be handed back. And in case, you become an associate, and that would depend on your performance, you’ll get them at the promotion.”

You followed her steps as she stopped at a desk and gave you the papers back.

“change the folder to a chois file. And sign this receipt. I’ll give you a copy and don’t lose it if you want your degree back.” You blinked drinking each and every word she said. You again nodded like  a lost child and completed the formalities. After a few minutes you were shown to your small desk that was decorated with a pyramid of legal files.

“do I have to work on these” you voiced your fear. Even if it was a stipend based internship, nobody would take up that work load.

“oh no! actually I forgot that you were joining but I’ll get it cleaned in the evening so you can adjust for today right?” before you could respond the sound of her heels faded away in the distance.

“Welcome to the great chois y/n” you mumbled to yourself, picking up a random file to pass the time until further orders.

A week later

To keep your mind off the distasteful look painted all over mr. kwang’s face, you chose to look at his new assistant. The clicking or rather banging of the keys of the computer combined with the occasional scratch of her nails was highly uncomfortable but not more than the man sitting beside her. Your professor didn’t find it amusing that his favourite free fund student was asking for her permitted leave.

“how much have you progressed with the thesis?” he scoffed, respectfully dumping the application  on the table.

“I’ll be working half day. I’m not supposed to accompany them to the hearings so I’ll be back in the university in the late afternoon to research on that.”

He sighed, clearly not satisfied by the answer, “you want to skip lectures for an assistant job!”

“I would be promoted shortly so it’s acceptable sir.” A lie slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“what about getting distinction in thesis?”

“I’ll be surrounded with experts so it’s not a big deal sir.  I’m getting late. I’ll see you in Friday’s lecture.” In sync with his eyeballs, he rolled his chair to face the other way. Picking up the paper you bowed to his back and left the staffroom , a grin of content bedazzling your face.

"He did what?" Johnny tried hard to control his laughter but the scenario you were narrating was too humorous for him to keep his hands stable on the wheel.

"I'm not kidding John. Yugyeom seriously forgot kook  at Busan. But he did go back to get him though but I won't blame gyeom for this error!"

"Oh yeah! Just because jungkook slept in the gym doesn't justify his mistake girl. The driver should count the passengers before taking the wheel. Look at me, i never forget anyone no matter what!"

"Stop blowing your own trumpet. Don't forget you are driving a stolen car!"

Johnny rolled his eyes at the comment , "no, borrowed from mark so I can spend more time with you. stop lawyering and tell me what you did in the break. Apart from flirting with jungwoo of course."  

You shook your head at him as he repeated the same you-flirt-with-jungwoo mantra again but this time decided to follow the lead , "so what if we flirt! He's teaching me to save myself from predators , abductors and he’s very gentle with me. Have you seen his eyes! I want to drown myself in the depth of those brown sea-

"Oh my god I'm so sorry! I'm never mentioning that again but please stop. You are awful with words." His laughed again, you joining him soon. " Now seriously tell me how were your holidays"

"Umm nothing new except that everyone was on university funded trips leaving me with minjun , his camera and the plants. We explored botanies and flower shops an-

He had lied. You were not sounding awful but he just hated how quickly his heart beat at someone else's mention from your lips. He consumed each and every word like he could be tested on the said information later on. His eyes were glued to the road and his ears to your voice. He wanted nothing more than to be the only one you’d see. He wanted nothing more than to be subject of your talking but the voice in the back of his mind said fuck it johnny, you are already asking for too much. He hated how he lost control over his senses whenever you were near him but he was slowly getting used to the dilemma. But the trance he was trapped in quickly broke down when you mentioned something. Abruptly stopping the car by the trees, he faced you to confirm.

"You are doing what?"

"I'm interning. Don't look at me like I stole your candy John. I need money." You innocently replied not aware of the reason behind his sudden dumbfounded expression.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on masters!n yuta is supposed to pay for you so why do y-

" I can work for my money johnny." Frustration made its way to your face as you continued,"drop me home johnny!" You weren't sure whether it was for his mention or him questioning your ability to feed yourself but you were offended.

"Yeah I'm sorry. I won't mention that again" a hollow apology and the car sailed again.

Hiding himself in his car seat, Johnny's fingers hovered over various contacts. Taeyong, taeil, Yuta, jaehyun! He wasn't sure what he wanted to do or whose side he wanted to take. He just wanted to be with you and no one else! but he couldnt do that !

Kicking harshly at the brakes, he screamed. The voice reaching no one’s ears but his own.

Was he asking for too much?

i wanted to add more to this chapter but i dont find enough time to write due to some commitments! but i’ll update one more chapter before this beautiful year ends. and all the smut chapters would be uploaded again sans the adult stuff for the minor readers! and there are few more chapters left. masterlist says 12 chapters bcs i’m lazy（￣︶￣）↗　

HAPPY DECEMBER EVERYONE. HAPPY HANUKKAH AND MARRY CHRISTMAS. BE THE SANTA OF YOUR LIFE AND SPREAD HAPPINESS!!

[yelenasdog]

wondrous mess (40s!bucky x fem reader)

𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚘𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: angst with some tooth rotting fluff halfway 

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: war is so cruel, it’s only fair that the both of them have to expirience it’s wrath together.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 11k+ (my longest fic!!)

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: the beginning shows implications of alcoholic tendencies and behavior as well as derogatory terms from the 40s to describe those who are suffering from alcoholism, war, character death, denial of death, being a widow, cheating, crying, implications of sex, that’s abt it. if i missed any, feel free to shoot me an ask or message :) 

𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: (listen to these in order for best reading experience)

☆time flies- mac miller

☆at last- etta james

☆crying time- dean martin

☆paper rings- taylor swift

☆fine line- harry styles

☆dream a little dream of me- ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong 

☆twilight time- the platters

☆you don’t have to say you love me- jerry vale

☆moon river- andy williams

☆as the world caves in- matt maltese

☆we’ll meet again- vera lynn

☆everlong (acoustic version)- foo fighters

𝚊/𝚗: i hope u enjoy this!! i’ve worked so hard on this and done so much research, it truly took the most time and effort i’ve ever used in a fic. there’s more disclaimers at the end :)

·。·☆·。·。

December 28th, 1941

The alleyway was dark, unnerving, and cold. A man’s loud and gruff voice projected through the nearly empty alley, bouncing off of the newly propaganda strewn walls. His arm was left hanging defenseless in the air.

“Don’t go, please, we’ll talk it out.” His 5 o’clock shadow seemed more prominent, his clothes wrinkled and smelling of alcohol while his breath was that of smoke.

He had changed since they had gotten together, but he wasn’t the only one.

She turned on her heels from where she stood just outside the backstreet, tears pricking the corner of her eyes, threatening to spill. 

She had aged in the time she had been with Jake, the lines on her face deepening, the bags under her eyes darkening with blue and purple hues. Her painted lips had become cemented in a scowl, her formerly bright smile rarely seeing the light of day. But the distraught girl had no intentions of letting her new Bésame mascara go to waste on some jerk, much like the past few years of her life had. She strutted towards the blonde, regaining her lost composure.

She jabbed a manicured finger onto his chest, causing the man to recede slowly, the girl he had angered not far behind.

“You listen here, you crumb. I will not sit around all slack happy so you can go around and kiss some other dame behind my back.” She removed her hand, crossing it tightly against her chest with her other arm.

“Well, I was buzzed, that bird wasn’t even any importanc-“

“You’re unbelievable!” She gasped, rolling her eyes. She turned away once again. Jake followed in suit.

“Leave me alone, Jake.” She kept her eyes straight ahead on the unfamiliar Brooklyn sidewalk. She had originally come to the area to surprise her now ex- boyfriend after his work in the factory, but was in for a shock when she saw him making out with some girl (not for the first time) just outside the diner on the way.

So even if she didn’t have a clue where she was going, she sure as hell was going to act like she did. Seeing that her stride wasn’t faltering, he made an outcry of her name followed by a bellowed  “No!”

Jake grabbed her shoulder, and she shrugged it off, continuing to walk down the cobblestone street. There were cars buzzing past, and people talking around her on the street.

Couples. Happy couples who she quite honestly envied.

“You’re not allowed to touch me like that anymore.” Jake scoffed at her seemingly venomous words, wrapping a strong hand around her dainty wrist.

“Now don’t go into a decline, it’s not that big of a deal.” Her eyes narrowed at the sandy blond.

“Oh, please. You kissed her, and all the others, because you wanted to and because you could. No regard for anyone’s feelings but your own, just like always. And I’m sick of it, I really am!” She threw her hands up, and they fell back to her side with an audible plop against the gabardine fabric.

Jake looked around nervously at all the people whose attention he had drawn, his eyes darting to and fro.

“Don’t make a scene,” he called her by her nickname in a vain attempt to draw out her sympathy. “Please, we can work it out like we always do.”

“Don’t you dare call me that. You have no place to do so. And I think I’ve made my point fairly evidently. Jake Nelson, you are nothing but a swigger and a cheat, and I want nothing to do with it any longer. Goodbye.” She felt a rush of adrenaline as she picked her head up, the setting sun in what to her seemed a poetic manor.

She didn’t know where she was, how she would get home, where she would sleep. But he was gone. That parasite that had been feeding off of her and her emotions, taking advantage of her again and again, was finally gone. And it felt great. She took a breath of the heavily polluted air, noting how it somehow seemed clearer.

She could breathe again, and the feeling was intoxicating. In her newfound bliss, she continued walking for she didn’t know (nor care to find out) how long.

The sky that had since changed from it’s scarlets and oranges to an indigo sheet (becoming nearly impossible to see the stars with all the heavy smoke wafting in the air from the ever so busy factories) provided a hint at exactly how long it had been since she began her adventure. 

She would stare at the buildings as she walked past, analyzing those who walked in and out of them, considering the way they walked, how some appeared dreary, others animated, and making up backstories for them each in her mind. Some of her stories were sadder than others, and some had the most glorious of tales. She liked to think that she was correct about her human hypotheses, even if she was the furthest thing from it.

She swung her head to the left side of the street she was walking on, and not far ahead, she noticed a rickety looking old bar. After her day's events, she felt she deserved a celebratory drink, so she pushed the heavy door open, stepping into the dimly lit area.

The airy sound of piano filled the air, a joyful demeanor to the place. Couples (which she still envied, even if momentarily the said envy had gone vacant) were dancing about happily. Not a care in the world. Not in the moment, at least.

But when she made it past the entrance, that moment stopped. It was like every head turned, all conversations paused, the clinking of the piano keys was no longer to be heard. She gave a small nervous smile to the occupants of the room as she walked to the bar itself, standing just a tad bit taller at the attention. 

And as soon as the moment had stopped, it seemed to have started back up again when she ended up at her destination. Because as she had learned, time truly never stopped for anyone. 

The piano’s melody resumed, everyone was back on their feet in no time. She took a look around, soaking up the atmosphere in complete awe, feeling free as a bird of some sort.

Soon enough, she was slowly sipping away at her concoction while facing the splintering door, her head occupied with thoughts concerning what came next, how she would handle the effects of this adrenaline high she was now stepping off. Her thinking was interrupted, though, by a deep voice and a tap on the shoulder, making her jump in her seat.

“‘Scuse me?”

She turned on her stool to face whoever it was that wanted her attention. Both figures eyes widened at the sight of the other, shock spreading across their faces.

“Well if it isn’t James Barnes!” She spoke, genuine excitement filling her soul. He called out her old nickname, contended with his discovery.

“It’s been awhile! And please, doll, it’s Bucky.” He reminded her with a charming smile. A warm blush rose up from her neck to her cheeks, and butterflies suddenly hatched in her stomach, fluttering about like nobody's business. She nodded, taking another sip from her drink to avoid meeting his eyes (which were much prettier than she ever had remembered from school). 

The clean shaven boy- or man as of late, pulled out a chair next to her, sitting down. The two engaged in friendly conversation, their laughs mixing in the warm, thick air with the sounds of the music. Her heart was beating out of her chest, leaving her feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush all over again.

After some time of very pleasant conversation, a less effervescent matter had risen.

“So,” James began, taking a swig from his glass. “Still with that souse, what was his name,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Jake! That’s his name, Jake!” 

The girl shook her head and rolled her eyes with a laugh.

He was enchanted already.

She began to tell a toned down version of the occurrences with Jake, Bucky remaining captivated by her presence the entire time. James would speak up every few statements, always resulting in her losing her place, not that she minded.

Towards the end of the so called story, there was an interruption towards the front of the bar. 

The moment stopped once more, but in a quite different manner than how it did when she had first entered.

He hollered out her name, followed by an equally as loud “Where are you?” He turned to a man to his left. “Where is she?” He slurred. The scruffy man only shrugged, scooting away from the drunken one that had walked into the brick building.

“Jake, what are you doing here?” She questioned, slowly walking towards the man, trying not to upset him further. 

“Why’d you leave me, huh?! Why’d you cause a scene and go?” He was hysterical. Tears ran down his red face and his hands feverishly grabbed at his scraggly locks for some sense of comfort. 

“Jake, you’re not in your right mind. Leave me alone and go home, you’re leaving your mother worrying, I’m sure of it.”

Her voice began to shake, ripples of emotion that had been repressed for the past years bubbling up to the surface, taunting her, threatening her, to erupt.

And God, his mother, his poor mother.

The frail old woman was half the reason she had even stayed with Jake in the first place,

Her heart was weak, and her son’s behavior never left her any room to breath. So the girl would dedicate much of her time to cooking meals for the widowed Ms. Nelson, bringing them over and sitting with her for hours on end, speaking with her of Jake’s childhood, memories of her late husband spending time with the boy along with it.

Her favorite stories throughout them all, though, were the ones of Jake’s childhood pup, a golden retriever called Benjamin.

Ms. Nelson loved to tell the story of how odd it was that the young boy chose the human name, rather than something frivolous and fun, like Buddy, or Peanut.

So a teary eyed version of the girl would think back to that story whenever Jake would behave in this manner, she would think of Benjamin and a youthful Jake, frolicking in the Oklahoma fields where Jake had grown up.

An extremely happy child, an even sweeter boy.

But no longer could she do so. Not now, after Jake had gone and betrayed her for some random girl.

Some random girl who would never sit with his mother for hours, listening to her weep about her broken son who she pretended to not notice was silently suffering. Some random girl who wouldn’t comfort him when he had a rough day at work, trying to be an active distraction so that he wouldn’t turn to his vice.

Because she had loved Jake Nelson, even if she wanted to pretend she didn’t.

And it hurt her to walk away, but she had to, for his own good.

Which led her to push the image of a golden fluff ball and the face of a smiling small boy out of her mind completely, weighing herself down to the present, meeting Jake’s sad emerald eyes. She walked forward, taking him by the shoulders. Her voice was hushed as she spoke.

“Jake. You’ve become someone I don’t know, someone that’s hard to love. But I did it anyway for a long, long time. Maybe some other time, perhaps even in another life, we can be together. But that all depends on you.

You’ve hurt me, and I can’t pretend you haven’t any longer, Jake. So go home. Please.”

Her eyes hunted through his, sifting for some sign of reassurance that he understood the gravity of the situation.

“But I love you-” He whispered, acting a stuttering mess. Everyone at the bar had gone back to whatever they were doing before he came into the room, not wanting to involve themselves in whatever mess it was obvious the two of them were in.

She took hold of the brown fabric of his coat, gently turning him towards the door. She walked behind him, her hand not leaving his back for some subconscious fear he would do something he would regret once he was of sober mentality.

She discarded it as nonsense;

But nevertheless, her death grip on him never faltered, even for a moment.

As soon as she made it outside, she waved over a cab, the bright yellow vehicle being the only completely visible object in the cool night.

It pulled over with a loud screech, leaving rubber tracks on the damp asphalt. She wrinkled her nose, before digging around her embroidered bag in a flurry, pulling together $5.27 exactly. She knew it would be enough to cover the long ride from the factory to his home, as the high cost of the ride was one of his many worries he did his best to forget in any way he could possibly fathom.

So she told the cabbie his address, helping Jake into the back of the car. He held her hand and looked up to her with pleading eyes. She squeezed it once before putting his back on his lap.

“Goodnight, Jake.” She smiled softly, briefly touching his cheek before shutting the door. She saw him look out the dirty window, before leaning back into the leather headrest and letting his tired eyes flutter to a close, finding momentary bliss, despite all going on around him.

She took a deep breath, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her shoulders, watching him until the taxi was just barely visible, to where calling it a yellow blob would be generous. But she followed it with her eyes not a moment later, for she had some explicable fear from a tall-tale her mother had told her long ago, about how you would never see someone again if you watched them off completely.

Whether that be by death or some curious mishap along the journey towards it, she never quite felt the urge to find out. And one could take that as a bitter yet nectarous testament to her feelings towards Jake, but even if she wanted to, she wasn’t even sure if she could herself.

She revolved in zombie like fashion, too caught up in her own world once more, to notice a certain brown haired (soon to be, not that he knew it) sergeant.

A stormy look of displeasure had casted itself across his stark features, but his cerulean eyes remained cordial, almost like a safe haven of calm waters to find refuge in.

And almost like in every cliche love story that ever was, she bumped into Bucky, gasping before transitioning into an expression of her regret, a waterfall of apologies gushing from her lips.

He called her by her nickname once more, catching her attention and making her heart skip a beat.

“Seriously, it’s alright, no harm done.”

She zipped her mouth shut, so to say, and just gave a curt nod before starting to go inside. And ever the gentleman, Bucky let her get halfway to the door before calling out her name. She turned once more, salty droplets beginning to roll down her face. 

“Yes?”

He looked down to his feet and then to the bustling city street beside him. After much contemplation in the span of what felt like hours (but was only a few moments), he met her eye.

“I know it’s not my place, and if you don’t wanna talk ‘bout it, we don’t have to, but what happened in there-”

He paused, taking a deep breath in a futile effort to put his nerves at bay, keep the storm from shore to the best of his abilities. He puffed his cheeks, offering his arm before retreating it again, similarly to the way Jake had however many hours ago.

“You don’t deserve that.” He shook his head, left to right, his ungelled hair shiny under the yellow street lights, making him look like an angel.

“I know.”

He shuffled closer to her, stuffing his hands in his pockets. The wind howled around them in an agonizing manner, how lone wolves under a full moon would do the same.

They watched as their frosty breaths floated like smoke in the air, their faces illuminated by the storefront displays lining the streets from Christmas that was only a few days prior, leaving no time to take down the brightly colored decor. You could practically hear the animated Santa Claus’ “Ho ho ho!” from where he sat in the front of a toy store, beckoning those who walked past to come on inside and take a look, maybe spend a few dollars.

But to Y/n, it felt as if the cheery old man was simply mocking her as she was in her current state.

“Really, I mean that, I do.”

Now to reiterate, Bucky was a gentleman, that much was clear. So although he outright wanted to tell her that it seemed as if she didn’t realize her own worth and that, Hell, Steve could treat her better than that punk. But alas, he kept it to himself, only doing his best to comfort her, upsetting her further, never an intention in his mind.

She nodded, giving a tight lipped smile. “Thanks, really.”

She shivered, admiring the red and green lights around her, her glazed over eyes reflecting the image of them beautifully, almost like a work of stained glass art in her iris.

“You wanna head back inside? You look kinda chilly.”

“Oh, no, thank you. I’m just going to stay out here for awhile.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

All that was heard then, was the clicking of his shoes against the cobblestone, with the occasional car whizzing past. But then, she asked him to stay.

Her voice was soft, so much so, in fact, that she possessed what Bucky would say was mistakable for the voice of a mouse, which he would know after spending as many years around Steve that he had. He almost had missed it, but by some miracle, maybe a lucky star, he didn’t

So he turned around, not saying anything to disturb her seemingly exteriorly serene state, only walking up behind her, pulling off his jacket and placing it on top of her shoulders. He smoothed it out briefly, his touch feather light. For he wasn’t sure if he was breaching a certain level of intimacy, breaking any boundaries, with a woman who was practically a stranger.

“Is this alright?”

She nodded again.

“This is fine.” She closed her eyes, feeling much warmer now, but she was slightly torn on if the newfound comfort was accredited to the jacket resting upon her shoulders, or the company standing patiently beside her.

She was starting to think it might just be a little bit of both.

-

June 14th, 1943

The two's relationship (if you could call it that) was painstakingly slow, not that Bucky ever minded.

Word of the war and when, not who, would get drafted had spread, and any waking second for the past years, she was terrified the man she was developing ever strong feelings for would be ripped away with only a moments notice.

But regardless of that, she had a hard time trusting him, that much was true. It wasn’t his fault, not in the slightest. She wished more than anything to forget her past with Jake, but it was no use. So it took her much time to be able to trust James. But he was patient, and he always stayed.

So when he did get called away, it was a rude awakening.

She had only recently met Steve, before Bucky (who she still called James) was sent overseas. Her maternal instinct she didn’t even know she had immediately kicked into overdrive at first sight of the sickly boy, making her promise Buck that she would watch over him, much to Steve’s dismay. Although, there was no doubt in any of their minds she would in the first place, it was a given.

(Steve secretly loved the way she fussed over him, but he would never admit to that.)

The three of them had a lovely time at the Stark Expo the night before Bucky left, leaving a happy new memory for Y/n to drift to whenever she missed the scent of sandalwood, sweat, and his cologne, that was all uniquely him.

She would picture entangling her arms with Steve and Bucky’s own as she skipped happily, pulling the boys along behind her; not too rough of course, for Steve’s sake

She had been full of an electric happiness that night, stealing kisses with James when Steve wasn’t looking, a pink tint falling upon his plump cheeks. She stole his hat right off his head of hair that she loved to run her fingers through so much and put it on, crooked so much so it nearly fell right off. She wore it the whole rest of the night, Bucky wanting to never see her take it off, if it were possible.

Later that night when he took her home, she stood by the doorway, the porch light doing a sad job of lighting up the area, casting a faint amber glow across James’ features.  

The hairs left astray from where she had Bucky’s hunter green cap previously were lit up, forming a halo. 

She was a wondrous mess, and James simply adored her in that moment.

(He also adored her in any other instance since the minute he had laid his eyes on her, but the point still stands.)

You could smell the grass if you had tried, freshly cut and still damp from the late night shower they had run through while making their way home, turning through twisty alleyways, feet pattering against walkways.

Their hands had been slipping apart the entire time, perhaps an attempt by Freyr for a cruel joke in the last hours the lovers would spend together before James was to leave.

Maybe he was up in the sky at Mount Olympus, laughing down at the two mortals as the girl kept her hand gripped securely around the man’s stronger limb, refusing under any circumstances to let go. Maybe his laugh turned to a fond smile from above, finding pleasure in how his jest resulted in such an act of youthful care, not minding in the slightest that it had been counterproductive in the best ways.

“Thank you, James. I had an amazing night.”

He grinned ear to ear, awkwardly shuffling closer to her silhouette.

“Same here, doll.”

And just like that, she had crumbled like a coffee cake, another warm and itchy wave silking up her neck. Past the neckline of the uncomfortable dress she wore because she knew Bucky loved it (even though he would no longer love it and would insist she never wear it again if his ears heard any words of upset at the garment fall past her lips).

It traveled right past her best pearls with the rhinestone right in the center that she had made sure to wear because James had once told her that they made her eyes sparkle, that sly son of a gun.

The twinkle truly had been there solely because of him on that day and most others, but she would allow him to believe what he wanted to believe until the end of time, if it kept that boyish smile cemented on his pretty face.

But as it eventually always would, his smile began to falter, shifting into a slight pout, then into a full on frown as soon as her eyes had become visibly misty.

Bucky reached a hand forward snatching the cap from her head. She huffed, and he rolled his eyes as he placed it back on his head. 

“I’ll be needing this tomorrow, sorry, sweetheart.”

They both laughed for a moment, the memories of the night still fresh in their young minds.

“I’m going to miss you, James.”

Her chin suddenly quivered, her nose ran, and her thoughts were racing at the speed of light.

She couldn’t lose him. No, not yet, she wasn’t ready, she wouldn’t ever be ready. She hadn't even begun to express to him how much she loved him, let alone that she couldn’t bear to live a day without him (as the information was quite new to her as well). So how in God’s name was she supposed to ship him off to war, just like that, practically a sitting duck for those bastard nazis to poke and prod at all they want?

“I’ll miss you more, darlin’. More than you know.”

They both made an attempt at watery smiles that ended up looking more like two painful grimaces, which was more of a reflection of their current moods than the aforementioned. His eyes pleaded with her to say something, anything. One of her quick witted facts, maybe a scolding perhaps, for having such a negative attitude in the current predicament.

Not able to stare at his collapsing facade any longer, she stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. She quickly reciprocated, placing a strong hand on her waist.

There was a longing look in her eyes as the gears of her brain turned, carefully formulating what she wanted to say.

“Marry me.”

Well, formulating is a strong word.

He laughed at the notion, the sound ringing out and echoing off the small porch. But the whimsical tune soon halted when he realized he was the only one making it.

“Doll, are you serious?”

“Never been more serious about anything in my life, James.” She moved her hands to take his, holding them up to her chest and shaking them as she spoke with a supplicate glance. He said her nickname in a careful manner, trying to articulate a response, muttering something about not having a ring, how their families (Becca included) would be furious they missed the wedding. But she was having none of it.

“Well I’m sure given the circumstances, they’d understand, and if they don’t then oh well. And quite frankly, as for the ring, I could care less, James, make a ring out of paper and slap it on my finger, it's all the same to me. We can go to the court tomorrow morning before I see you off-”

She moved her head down to where Bucky was gazing, tilting it back up with her pointer finger.

“Let me marry you, dammit.”

They laughed for a second, both of them this time, although her’s was much more convincing.

“But why now?”

She paused again, the only sound to be heard was the soft chirping of the crickets hidden in the grass.

“Because I know you're far too much of a gentleman to leave me widowed, James Barnes.”

He pressed soft kisses on her knuckles, meeting her eyes.

“Have I told you how much I love you?”

“Oh, only every day.”

He rolled his eyes and smiled, pulling her in by the waist. He connected their lips, and felt her smile into the kiss. He also happened to feel a hand creeping up to where his hat rested on the crown of his head, but the feeling wasn’t prolonged.

She snatched it off his shiny locks with a devilish grin, a sparkle in her eye shining like the North star Bucky soon would be gazing upon at night to direct him through the dark nights.

“You should keep that on for forever, you know. Looks better on you, anyway.”

She raised a messy eyebrow, the corner of her bright red mouth turning into a smirk.

“Oh really, is that so?”

Bucky hummed and nodded, kissing her nose and watching in delight as it crinkled up and a high pitched giggle escaped from her lips. Then it was quiet for some time, the only thing able to be heard was the droplets of rainwater sliding off the roof and plopping on the floor as her and James stood in contemplation.

“I’ll marry you, doll.”

She smiled at him warmly, leaning into his larger frame completely, the scratchy green fabric of his uniform flush against her cheek.

“I know.”

He barked a loud laugh, and she felt it through the fabric covering his chest, savouring the feeling.

“You know? Well how did you know?”

She only sighed, moving to open her rickety front door, which the whole neighborhood probably knew judging by the squeak that echoed from it.

“Because, just as I said before. You’re a gentleman. You’d never turn down a proposal in public, especially not from me.”

Bucky’s face contorted, and the gears of his head turned as he made an honest effort at understanding how they were in public.

“But, we’re not?”

She shook her head, stepping into her home and then turning to face him straight on.

“Technically, we were on the patio, which is in the yard, which is in the neighborhood, which is in public. Now, if I were to propose to you right now with you-”

She tugged his arm, forcing him into the building. 

“-also in my home, you would have every right to say no.”

She looked up, scanning his features. Admiring his cheekbones, his lips, and his sharp jaw. But most prevalently, she found herself absolutely enchanted by his eyes, as she always was.

“But I won’t.”

“But you won’t.”

She smiled, the look on her face resembling that of a fox smirking at her prey. She waltzed to the door, closing it softly.

“So,” she began, taking hold of Bucky’s hands.

“Tomorrow morning it is, then?”

“I think it is.”

“Whatever shall we do in the meantime?” She questioned, both of them having ideas that were entirely the same.

“I think I might have an inkling of an idea.”

She huffed, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“You and your ideas, James. Always ‘thinking’ of something new.”

He only hummed in agreement, nuzzling his forehead against hers, before moving down to her ear.

“I’d like to believe I act on those ideas. Would you agree?”

You can most likely guess her answer.

-

The next morning was a mixture of great sorrow and great joy all at once. Sure, they had to get up at the crack of dawn on what would be Bucky’s last chance to sleep in for a very long time, and sure, the minister had given them very strange looks, but it had been done.

And to the newly wed Mr and Mrs. Barnes, it was worth it completely.

But nearly as soon as the exciting event had ended, she was standing on the slimy pebbles of Brooklyn's Pier 57, doing her best to not lose her footing on the wet stones. She had given James one final goodbye kiss, before watching him board the Dominion Monarch to be shipped off to England.

The large vessel departed, and for once, she allowed a few tears to slip down her blushed cheeks, her smeared mascara coming with it, just as she knew it would. The bitter droplets were warm, a juxtaposition to the feeling in the pit of her stomach formed by the voice nagging at her that Bucky would never see her again. That her wedding day would be the last time she would ever see her husband. It was a possible reality she never wanted to have to face.

And after so long, she decided she was tired of waiting. So she made a call.

“Hello? Is this Agent Margaret Carter?”

-

December 25th, 1943

Bucky Barnes was not opposed to the idea of Y/n joining the army. He was appalled.

So when on the crisp morning of December 25th, it was quite a surprise when he opened what he had presumed to be a letter wishing him a Merry Christmas from his wife, and rather receiving some interesting news.

He had been laying his backside against a tree, the scratchy bark feeling rather uncomfortable. He smiled, smiled at the news of his wife going to war, not that he knew, when Steve handed him the parchment, taking another sip of some watered down joe from an aluminum cup, before excitedly ripping into it like a little boy.

“I wanted to save it for today,” Steve had told him, his chest puffed out in pride for keeping the secret for so long.

Bucky initially had found it humorous and exciting, why wouldn’t he have? But his mood soon changed after reading just a few lines in.

“James, my love,

I hope this message finds you and the rest of the boys in good health, tell them I wish them all a happy Christmas, as well. There really isn’t a simple way to put this, and I hope it doesn’t put a damper on your holiday spirit, but I’ve been tired of sitting around, so I’ve spoken to Steve’s friend, Agent Carter. I now have enlisted in the SSR as Agent Barnes.”

The paper clenched in his fist, his eyes screwing shut. He didn’t even bother reading the rest before standing up and walking over to Steve, a fiery look set in his eyes. Steve soon caught on to his anger, standing up and parting his lips as he neared.

“Steve, did you know?”

Steve, a horrible liar, shrugged, furrowing his brows. “About what? Buck, what's wrong?”

“Don’t lie to me, Rogers! Did you know about her enlisting?”

At that, it went silent in the forest aside from the rustling of the branches, and the chirps of early rising blackbirds. 

The rest of the Commandos turned, eyes wide, shoulders hunched. Steve gestured for them to calm down and return to normal with a dramatic sweep of his arms, with most of them complying, but not without a few snarky comments from Dum Dum and Gabe protesting the treatment.

“Listen, I tried to stop her-”

“Well apparently, you did a horrible job. God, Agent Barnes. That’s what she'll be known as now. We'll have the whole bunch! Sarge and Agent, wow, we are gonna be one decorated family, ain’t that right, Steve?”

Bucky was ranting and rambling now, spewing angry nonsense at Steve as if that would change a thing. Steve felt a pang of guilt, hanging his head and biting his knuckle.

“Buck, is it a problem that she’ll be an Agent?”

Bucky paused, his nostrils flaring and his eyes slanting.

“Of course it’s a problem, Steve! If they put her in the field, God knows what’ll happen! What if I have to see that name on a plaque some day, huh? In a museum, in some memorial for fallen agents.” His arm put emphasis on every word he shouted, and his voice had grown raspy, tears slipped from the corners of his eyes.

Steve sat his exasperated friend down, putting a comforting arm on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him. It distressed Steve to see Bucky this upset, after all he had done for him over the years. So if he could try to make him feel even the slightest bit relieved, he would in any way he had to.

“Bucky?”

He looked up, his eyes red and nose puffy.

“Think about how you're feeling right now. The fear, the hurt, the anxiety, all of it.”

“Steve, I don’t get how this is going to help me-”

“Just trust me.”

Bucky nodded, slumping over again.

“That’s how she feels. That’s how she felt when the war was announced, how she felt when you submitted your draft, how she felt when you were called away, Hell, how she feels every second of every hour that you’re not with her.”

“Still not helping.”

“Shut up, jerk.” They laughed, Steve elbowing him in his shoulder. The sound echoed through the lush green of the space, the tension noticeably thinner.

“The point is, the pain that this all has caused for everyone is inevitable, inescapable. So learn from it, and savour it. In the long run, we’ll be okay, Buck. I promise you that.”

James bit his bottom lip, puncturing the chapped skin, the blood pounding in his head making it hard to process what Steve had said. But what he did manage to gather, was that they would be okay.

-

February 11th, 1944

“Peggy, I’m nervous.”

“What? Are you kidding? You must be kidding, you’re ridiculous.”

Peggy gave the girl a dirty look from where she stood behind her in front of the only full length mirror at the base, looking as she straightened out her skirt and touched up her “victory” colored lip.

“I’m not kidding, Peg. What if he’s mad?”

The other agent only laughed, briefly touching her on the shoulder before walking around her to where a map of the Hydra bases they had been tracking were laid out. Peggy fiddled with one of the flags for a moment, speaking to a soldier nearby. She impatiently tapped her crimson nails on the board, the sound driving her friend insane. Peggy then began to speak, not even looking up from where she stood, bent over as she examined something else.

“Darling, the only thing Barnes will be mad about by now, is not seeing you for so long. If he was angry before, he’s long forgotten about it, I assure you that.”

She nodded (even though nobody except a nosy recruit had witnessed it).

“You know what, I think you’re right. Thanks, Peg.”

Margaret half smiled, “mmhm” ing, but keeping her head down. She did, however, lift it up when she heard the other woman’s heels clicking in the opposite direction.

“Excuse me?” Peggy remarked, brows raised and her arms crossed.

Agent Barnes turned, her painted lips beckoning Peggy to go on in a most humorous manner.

“We aren’t done here! Get over here and help me mark this up, I’m nearly finished.”

She rolled her eyes, to which Peggy only rushed her more.

By the time they were done (spoiler, she was not almost finished) several hours had passed, and the camp was now lit only by the lanterns and the moon in the obsidian sky.

The stars were visibly bright that night, twinkling like small diamonds without the restriction of smoke from busy factories and the blockage of the ever so fascinating skyscrapers.

Mr and Mrs. Barnes both were watching the stars that night, smiling at the thought of the other doing the same.

Yes, even Bucky, smiling at the thought of his wife despite his neck developing a crick from having laid on the knapsack in the back of the truck for so long. A lovestruck glance was still plastered on his face as he stared up, the road bumpy underneath the wheels of the vehicle. His body would jolt as a cause from this every once in a while, but he paid it no mind, the soft smile staying put.

Steve watched Bucky’s facial expressions, a grin coming across his own features.

“You thinkin’ about her?”

Steve looked up to the sky.

“Always am.”

-

“I know you want to wait up for him, but I promise as soon as I get word of if he’s here, I’ll wake you. You need rest.”

The agent only smiled, her eyes staying trained on the stars above. “I’ll come to bed soon, Peg. I swear.”

But Margaret knew her friend all too well, so she simply bid her goodnight and shook her head.

She whispered, though her friend was too far away to hear her, laying on her backside and tucking her arms behind her head on the damp grass.

“Goodnight, Peggy.”

She had fallen asleep on the green that night, the stars wooing her into a slumber with thoughts of her beloved. She was only awoken when she felt the ground rumble beneath her, and heard the loud whirring of a hummer engine. She sat up, pressing her hands in the wet soil. She squinted and was barely able to make out two tall men jumping out from the back of the car. 

She was initially unsure of who it was, but a shield being reflected on by the pale moonlight, and a hearty laugh soon confirmed her suspicions. She gasped and only to herself muttered Bucky’s name, picking herself up off the ground, running as fast as her feet could take her. 

“James! James!”

He turned his head from where he was talking to Colonel Phillips, immediately recognizing the voice as his wife’s. By the time he had noticed, she was already to him, so all he could do was welcome her with open arms. Literally.

She jumped into his arms, planting kisses all over his face. He laughed and laughed, Steve, and the Colonel, too, cracking a smile at the two’s reunion. She pulled away momentarily, looking over his dirty face. She ran her fingertips over the scratches and gashes, still having a hard time believing that after all this time, even under all the grime and blood and sweat, it was truly him. 

“Sarge, it’s been awhile.” She giggled out, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Same to you, Mrs. Barnes. Too long.” He commented, leaning forward and burying himself in her neck, allowing her to cradle him. He inhaled her perfume, taking the scent to memory for when he would inevitably have to go away once again, leaving her behind.

(So he thought.)

“That would be Agent Barnes to you.”

Bucky saluted, nodding and throwing a wink in her direction, before leaning in and planting a firm kiss to her lips that now only had remnants of red left around the edges from when she had applied it earlier on in the day. Their voices were now reduced to raspy whispers, both of them completely out of breath.

“Well either way, I’ve missed you greatly, Agent Barnes.”

“I’m glad we feel the same way.”

The two of them also felt extremely tired, leaving them to fall asleep that night packed side by side on a small cot in the corner of Steve’s tent. The brown sheets were horribly scratchy, and they had to mainly rely on each others bodies for heat. But despite this, all felt well, as if this new normal was finally worth it. 

-

In the morning, Steve had wanted to let the pair sleep in as long as humanly possible. The sun rising was one thing the great Captain America couldn't prevent, though. So as yellow light began to stream through the barely there material of their temporary home, the Barnes’ were given a somewhat pleasant awakening. 

Birds sang, bugs hummed, and the loud voices of Steve and Bucky’s soldiers could be heard, along with Steve occasionally hushing them if they came too close to their tent, still trying to preserve their well deserved rest. 

The thought made her smile, eyes slowly coming to an open. Bucky’s hand grew tighter on her waist, running circles on the silky fabric by her hip. Hers delicately made its way to brush messy brown locks from James’ closed eyes, the feeling comparable to a feather tickling the bridge of his nose. 

He scrunched it, blinking a few times, before commiting the view of waking up to the face of his wife for the first time to his memory, locked away to where Hydra would hopefully never take it. 

“Good morning, Agent Barnes.”

She shook her head, snuggling further into his chest and stretching her arms. “Mmmhm, not right now.” He placed a confused hand on her back, tracing a line up and down.“I thought it was only Agent Barnes?”

“Not in bed, James.”She looked up, smiling ear to ear. “Right now, I’m your wife, and only your wife.”

It was quiet in the tent, then. But always the one to break the silence, Bucky began to speak, his morning voice so incredibly low that it sent a shiver down her spine. 

“I mean, being my wife is a job in itself.”

They laughed, she shook her head and whacked his chest.

“Right you are.”

She stood up out of bed, shifting her hair to one shoulder with her hand. The glass on the face of her small watch reflected onto the walls, painting a rainbow stripe of light above Bucky’s head. She moved about, her babydoll pink colored slip moving along with her, almost as a toga would flow behind a goddess in the wind. James watched in amazement from his position propped up on his elbows, complete and total awe evident in his heart eyes for his wife. 

God, how he loved to say that, and hear it roll off of his tongue. Just to think it, even.

His wife.

He truly was a lucky man. And as she felt holes being stared into her back, she turned and giggled at Bucky’s antics.

“Now, I know your mother taught a gentleman such as yourself that ogling at women is rude, hmm?” She questioned, throwing the discarded slip at Bucky’s peeping eyes, then pulling on her uniform and beginning to fix her hair and makeup. Fingers moved quickly and expertly as she went about, her red nails almost appearing to move so quickly they were blurring.

He scoffed, forcing his nimble fingers through his knotted hair that could have been comparable to the nest that the very birds that played a hand in awakening them had resided in.

“Even if that woman is my very beautiful wife who I haven’t seen since I went away for war?”

He looked up, eyes bluer than Bing Cosby’s. (Sure, she had only seen them in the magazines, but hey, they seemed quite nice.) She finished putting on her lipstick, walking over and placing a hand under his chin. He looked up in a dreamy haze, basically begging for her lips to be placed on his.

She rolled her eyes and placed a long and sweet kiss upon his plump lips, restoring some of the color that sleep had stolen from them. She giggled at the lipstick left on his ivory skin, wetting her thumb and smudging it in a poor attempt to remove it. He cocked his head like some sort of puppy, slimming his eyes in an amused confusion.

“I guess that’s an exception.”

She leaned forward, leaving a short peck on his forehead, before ruffling his hair and making her way out of the tent. She briefly stopped hanging onto the post that acted as a door of sorts.

“Also, brush your teeth and hair, James. You stink.”

They smiled goofily at each other and she bit her lip, bidding him goodbye. And with that, she was off.

It was later in the day, now, and Bucky, Steve, and the rest of the commandos were in with the Colonel, discussing an upcoming mission. Peggy and Agent Barnes were decoding some of the Hydra messages the commandos had gathered on their previous mission in their general vicinity at the same time.

The paper was yellowed and stiff under her fingers, her eyes could barely stay focused on the multiple symbols in front of her, practically jumping off the page, vibrating at a high frequency.

She briefly closed her eyes and took a breath, trying to free her mind of the distraction that was her husband and honorary little (not so much now physically, but still) brother planning what sounded like an incredibly dangerous mission.

It was like a buzzing in her ear, the mention of capturing one of Hydra’s most valued scientists, and risking their lives in the process. And of course, he often did do just that, risking his life.

But call it wife's intuition, (Is that a thing? She isn’t sure) but she had a horrible feeling about it in the pit of her stomach. Something was telling her she should hug him a little tighter, kiss him a little harder, that kind of thing. And perhaps it could be discarded as the paranoia that had spread through many spouses as the war had started up, in fact, she wished it was.

Too lost in her own thoughts, it took Bucky’s hand on her shoulder to wake her from her trance. He began to quietly and cautiously speak her name in his position.

She turned, jumping ever so slightly. 

“Doll, you alright? Colonel was calling your name, you seemed real out of it.” He placed a hand on her forehead, then to her cheek, checking for any signs of a possible fever.

She didn’t reply to his concerns, only setting her hand utop his, leaning into him and closing her eyes. She opened them only moments later to see James squinting, his glance serious. He was quiet as he spoke, hesitating slightly. He muttered her name, trying to meet her eyes. He looked to see what was wrong, analyzing her, so badly wanting to fix whatever hurt there was lingering in her heart.

They stayed in that position for a while, the rest of the office seemingly standing still. She was the first to remove her hand, Bucky’s following suite.

“There’s a mission, in the Alps. Colonel wants you to come with the commandos and I, Peggy’s to stay here and work coms. He said something ‘bout needing someone who can sneak into places they shouldn’t be.” He chuckled, the sound bringing slight reassurance to her worrying mind.

“I’ll brief you tonight.”

She nodded, looking to her feet and whispering a quiet “okay”. They exchanged I love you’s, and then all that was heard was the faint clicking of James’ boots as he left her standing.

-

March 2nd, 1945

It was downright freezing in the Swiss forest.

And It would have been unbearable, if it weren’t for the fact she had Bucky to keep her warm, the man acting as a living furnace despite the frigid temperatures. The trek to do recom on the train they were intercepting was treacherous, feet ached, fingers were frosted, and the group spent much of their time (minus Steve, he had done enough of that when he was a sickly 90 pound asmatic) complaining to Mrs. Barnes, much to her dismay.

Usually, she would tell them off with a shake of her head or a slap to the arm, discarding their whines are nonsense.

In return for putting up with said nonsense, the commandos took her under their wing, so to say.

They never treated her differently than the rest of the group (or else she would have probably made her displeasure known, which both James and Steven warned them heavily against). Sharing the scotch, poking fun. In fact, if it weren’t for the nature of their escapade, she would have gone as far to say that she was having fun.

The only exception to this treatment was if she had to change, oftentimes borrowing a henley of Bucky’s or a pair of his trousers, the extra fabric heating her up quite nicely. Bucky would stand in front of whatever tree trunk she was hiding behind, watching to make sure no wandering eyes made any shameful attempts to catch a glimpse.

But overall, they worked well together, and were beginning to grow into a family, not that any of them would admit it.

“Buck?”

“Yeah?”

“What’re the chances this goes horribly wrong?”

He looked to his right to meet her eyes, wrapping an arm around his wife. They both turned back to the landscape of mountains, which were ironically quite beautiful. They were greeted with howling wind biting their noses and cheeks, causing her to let out a yelp, turning her head and tucking into Bucky’s arm briefly. He smiled and stroked the top of her messily tied back hair, allowing her to momentarily find comfort within his hold for what they didn't know would be the last time.

“With me? Nah, We’ll be alright. Zero to none.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled at his cocky behavior as she always would, his smirk settling her nerves.

“Yeah.” She exhaled. “We’ll be alright.”

-

March 4th, 1945

The brick remains of the pub were dimly lit by the lone street lamp standing bravely on the cobblestone, illuminating the puffy faces of the two sitting inside. Steve, stone cold sober, and Agent Barnes, drunk and with tears streaming down her flushed skin. The dust had barely settled; it could still be felt, burning her nostrils.

She heard heels, a telltale sign that Peggy had arrived, sorting through the rubble.

She had approached calmly, observing the situation. Steve muttered something about not being able to get drunk, earning some heartfelt speech from the other agent and a proclamation of a newfound fire for justice in Steve. But Peggy’s sorrowful glance soon became unreadable, then transitioning into one of anger and sympathy, however that was possible.

She tried calling the surviving Barnes’ name, voice stern. She snatched the bottle from her friends hand, noticing she had downed the whole thing.

She began some winded spiel, none of it processing, only a faint buzz in one ear out the other.

“I know you’re hurting, but James would have wanted you to pick yourself up, an-”

“He lied. You know that? The bastard lied.”

She wiped a singular tear from her left eye, staring blankly at the ring that still managed to shine even then, in what was close to total darkness in every sense.

“He said that we would be alright. That him and I would be okay. And then he went and you know what he did, Peg? He died.”

Steve looked up, and stood, walking to where she was across from him. 

He gently tugged her up and wordlessly pulled her into a hug.

She was stiff as a board at first but slowly melted into it, realizing that it felt nice to be cared for by him like she did all those years ago, the favor being returned when she most needed it.

“We’ll fix this, I promise.”

She closed her eyes tighter, digging her nails into his shoulders.

“I know.”

-

May 26th, 1945

“Steve, I’m not leaving you!”

“Go, grab the parachute and go, I’ll send your coordinates to Peggy! Both of us don’t have to die.”

“Steve, it’s alright.”

He met her eyes, water pooling in both of their orbs.

“I’ll be with him.” She forced a smile, taking hold of one of Steve’s gloved hands.

“It’s not too late for you to go, Stevie. I’ll put her in the water. If you wait any longer you won’t make it.”

The time was passing, they could hear the uncomfortable sloshing of the Arctic water below them, coming closer and closer. Jagged ice taunted them, glistening faintly in the light.

“Please, don’t do this to Peg.”

Steve had made his decision, as had she.

“See you on the other side, Barnes.”

The sound was difficult to decipher at the command center, static intercepting the voices of the pair as they bargained with death. But it was clear enough in order for everyone to realize what was happening.

Heads were bowed, tears fell, and even the Colonel allowed a salty drop to roll down his weathered cheek.

Steve and Peggy conversed, while Barnes sat next to Steve, closing her eyes. She was content. She was finally going home.

“I’d hate to step on your-”

Then, the line went dead.

“See ya, Rogers.”

-

2011

“This guy is still alive!”

“And the girl?”

The other man only shook his head.

-

2013

Skye dragged her finger along the etchings on the gray stone, mentally reading the names of fallen soldiers and agents.

“S.H.I.E.L.D.'s history can be traced on walls like this.”

Then she came upon something peculiar. Her finger lingered momentarily, the name on the plaque bringing back memories of when she was a young girl in school, learning about James Buchanan Barnes, one of two Howling Commandos to have died in the line of duty. The other, she couldn’t quite seem to remember.

“Huh. Bucky Barnes.” She looked a moment longer, reading the script underneath James’ name. 

“There was another Barnes?”

She turned to Agent Ward who was standing behind her, arms crossed and chin down.

“Yeah. They were married. Some say she put that plane in the water on purpose. That she could have left, but wanted to see him again after he died.

Puts it in perspective- What we do.”

-

2014

The lights in the exhibit were bright, too bright. Faces were plastered everywhere, familiar faces. The soldier felt lost without his handler, no direction whatsoever as he aimlessly wandered.

Aimlessly wandering, what a foreign concept. Not running from an enemy, or sneaking around, a shadow. Free to do whatever he pleases.

He saw his own reflection on a glass panel, information of who he supposedly was written next to it, about when he was born, when he had died. Videos playing on repeat of him and Steve nearby caught his attention, leading him to slowly make his way towards the shiny screen. He saw himself laugh, smiling with whoever this Steve guy was.

Then the screen switched to him and a girl.

In a slight contrast, the girl was the one laughing this time, her smile igniting something within the soldier, overwhelming him with a flurry of emotion and realization.

He panicked, turning to his left, only to see her again, standing next to him in a large mural. She was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

A voice began to speak, clouding his senses even more.

It spoke about Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers, how they were “inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield.”

It continued, and his confusion grew even further. It mentioned a girl who had what he learned to be his last name.

Not a mother, or a sister, but a wife.

“They became the only Howling Commandos to give their lives in service of their country."

Her name rang in his head, over and over again. He was married, he had a wife.

Had.

He walked up to where her clothes were displayed under her portrait, reaching a tentative hand out and feeling the fabric, rough from time. He could remember doing that before, but the fabric was silkier, then. It was different as a whole. It was pink satin, and the wearer was his wife, he now could see.

He was in a tent, laying on a scratchy cot, the girl laying with him, in his arms.

“Right now, I’m your wife, and only your wife.” Her smile and laugh were heavenly, her voice like honey. Her touch was smooth and left a tingle in its wake, bringing peace to his bustling mind.

Then he was suddenly back in the museum, hand still planted firmly on the hem of the shirt.

“Excuse me? Sir? You can’t be touching that.”

The soldier turned, facing the scrawny worker. His glasses were too large, hair too short, and pants 2 sizes too big. He gulped, doing a double take from the mural of James Barnes (who last time he checked a history book, had his remains somewhere buried under piles of ice and snow in the mountains of the Alps) and the man in front of him, who matched the recently trending image his coworker showed him of the Winter Soldier, the assassin who had over two dozen kills under his belt.

And if this were a mission, the soldier would have killed the man, executed him without second thought.

But now, he had free will. He had a choice.

So he chose to mutter a low “sorry” under his breath, pulling his baseball cap further over his brow and exiting the facility as quickly as possible.

The worker quit that night.

-

2016

A feed began to play on the tiny screen that Tony, Steve, and Bucky were crowded around, no video, just black with a thin line, moving in accordance with the audio. The sound was choppy, like it had been modified.

Zemo’s beady eyes slanted, a cold smile growing on his bearded face.

“I’ll be with him.”

“What the hell is this?” James yelled the question aimed towards both Zemo and himself.

But Steve knew exactly what it was, knew that voice, knew the feeling of the cold water enveloping him as he did his best to keep her warm in her final moments, a final favor for both Bucky and his wife.

“It’s not too late for you to go, Stevie. I’ll put her in the water. If you wait any longer you won’t make it.”

It was quiet, the line stopped moving. 

“See you on the other side, Barnes.”

“See ya, Rogers.”

The audio cut out.

“It’s her.” Bucky’s metal fist audibly clenched, his eyes darkening.

“You let her die, Steve.”

“Buck-”

“You killed her! I had a wife, and you let her die!”

Steve backed up, instinctively raising the shield from Bucky once more.

“That was her choice, Bucky.”

He was calm. Too calm.

“I don’t give a damn what her choice was, you should’ve pushed her out of that damn plane if you had to.”

“She wouldn’t have survived that fall, Buck, even with a parachute, she probably would have drowned, or gotten hypothermia or-”

“You don’t know that!”

Bucky rushed forward, anger infiltrating every fibre of his being. He threw a punch with his metal arm, a loud clang ringing out as it collided with the vibranium shield.

-

2024

“We’ll meet again

Don’t know where, don’t know when

But I know we’ll meet again some sunny day”

The room was pitch black aside from the blinking light on the record player, letting Bucky know that power was still running through the wires of the machine, keeping the same song spinning, over, and over, and over again.

The same one that’s been playing for the past 2 months. Over, and over, and over again.

The door creaked, sending a stream of light cascading across Bucky’s ridden features from his place where he was sat staring blankly at her tags laying in his flesh hand. He had started wearing them when she insisted, just in case anything were to happen to her, she wanted him to have a physical reminder of her. He had refused to give her his own, not wanting to admit anything might go wrong to where she would need them.

What a joke.

Zola had recovered them from around his neck, later to be stored away and then found by Steve in 2015 during a Hydra base invasion. He had immediately recognized the name pressed onto the material, and assumed someone who was an undercover agent snagged them during the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D., never thinking anything more of it.

“This isn’t healthy, man.” Sam spoke softly from the door, his hand never leaving the doorknob.

“When we got snapped away, I didn’t mind it.”

Sam opened the door even more, sliding in the slim crack, closing it behind him.

Bucky’s glance never faltered.

“I thought that maybe, I’d finally see her again. And, I know it was selfish-” He laughed dryly, meeting Sam’s warm eyes.

“But she wasn’t there. When I died, she wasn’t there.”

Sam’s arms were crossed, now, and he was unsure of how to proceed with the fragile shell of a man in front of him.

“Then everyone came back 5 years later, she still wasn’t there.” He chuckled once more, feeling over her name on the plates, tossing the chain over his head. It was quiet, the record stopped.

“And this sounds crazy, but I got to thinking, that she must still be alive-”

“You know she’s gone, Bucky.”

James stood up, walking over to Sam, a terrifying blaze set in his eyes. He was frantic, hands moving about the air, neck straining.

“She’s not, Hydra has her! I’m certain, just like they had me. What else would explain her not being there?”

“You’re in denial,”

“No, I’m not! She’s waiting for me! She’s waiting for me to come find her, Sam!” He yelled, every word louder than the last.

And Sam Wilson had enough. 

“Alright, that’s it.” He grabbed James by the wrist, taking his chances.

“What are you doing?”

“Putting some sense into you.”

More yelling and fighting ensued, all the way to the car, Bucky only ceasing his behavior upon realizing where they were heading. He was silent, then.

Getting out of the vehicle, they stepped onto freshly wet soil, green patches fading to a burnt orange, the rain a poor attempt at revival. They could hear their own footsteps all the way to their final destination, turmoil settling in.

“Why’d you take me here, Sam?”

It had started raining, the cold droplets making his hair stick to his forehead, and his tears invisible.

Mere inches before him sat two headstones, both fairly worn. The first, reading “Cap. Steven Grant Rogers, a true American hero. Loving brother, friend, and son.”

The second? Her.

Most of the words all blended together, it was clear Steve’s was the only one that had any regular visitors, willing to clean off any dirt or grime, or occasionally bring flowers (always red roses for Cap, as for his wife, he hoped that when it did happen, it was her favorites, lilies. He doubted it was, though). 

The only words that managed to stick out, at least to him, were “Barnes” and “loving wife”. He inhaled, capturing the scent of fresh rain and roses, grounding him. He felt an arm wrap around his shoulders, giving a light squeeze.

“I’m sorry I had to do that, but she’s gone, you know?”

He nodded, squatting down in an awkward position.

“Can I have a minute?”

Sam nodded, turning to go.

“‘Course, I’ll be in the car.”

Bucky waited until he could no longer see the outline of the shorter man, before taking the tags off from where they rested around his neck, positioning them utop the marble slab. He gathered a few weeds, messily shoving them into the vase, dirt and stray blades of grass falling all over the place. He tried to brush it off, only creating a sludge-like watery mixture.

He leaned forward, taking hold of the hard stone.

“I’m coming for you, sweetheart. I promise, I’ll find you.”

“Bucky?” Sam yelled from the car, confused at the extended amount of time his friend was taking.

James turned, yelling over his shoulder, “Coming!”

-

Once Bucky got back to the car, Sam reached over and patted his back, starting the engine.

“You think you’re gonna be okay?”

James only smiled, looking out behind him to where they all said was her final resting place, excitement for the future running through his veins.

“Yeah.” He said, sitting further back into the seat, closing his eyes. 

“I’ll be alright.”

·。·☆·。·。

hi!

disclaimer: (skip if u dont care) so i’ve had personal expiriences w alcoholism, and my pov has changed so much on the disease and as well as how to handle it w more empathy, and i just hope that is conveyed. my hope w my work is never to upset or offend anyone, and i hope u enjoyed. if u have a prob w anything, shoot me a message or ask to chat :)

go drink water, eat protein (if u can!) and take an electronics break. i love u, 

xx hj

[sagemcmae]

SessKag DDN January 2021 Theme: Space

Vast | Cold | Air | Black | Pull | Distant | Matter | Light | Radiant | Gravitate

Vast

The sea of grass sways in the summer breeze. Under the sun’s light, the blades change from green to gold. Sesshomaru watches the hypnotizing transition of the colors, his mind drifting far from his position.

Distraction plagues him often these days. His thoughts are an endless stream of questions. Like the strands of grass before him, his thoughts bounce back and forth, dancing along the line between reason and impulse. 

It is a narrow ledge. He has never been this close to falling over. 

Throughout his entire life, Sesshomaru has followed the path set before him. He has only deterred from his course once. The choice to restore Rin’s life was the will of Tenseiga, not his own. The blade chose her. He could blame his detour on the sword. When it comes to his current predicament, there is only one whom he can hold responsible.

Himself.

Sesshomaru tilts his head to the sky, contemplating what will become of him. If he allows himself to continue along this path of shameful musings, he will become a sentimental fool— weak and incompetent.

This he cannot allow.

He tells himself to ignore temptation, to avoid the one who has put all these ridiculous notions in his head. He guards his heart with the same ferocity as his ward.

“Sesshomaru!”

He turns.

She appears on the hillside with a warm smile and a wave.

Perhaps he has it wrong. Maybe he is already the fool.

But with her he feels invincible.

With Kagome, the possibilities are vast.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Cold

If Sesshomaru were to compare her to something, he would liken her to the sun. She is full of warmth. Her aura is bright and vibrant. Those in her life flock to her, a constant rotation of friends, family, and acquaintances.

The miko delights in the company she keeps. She showers them with praise, lavishes them with gifts, and embraces them tightly. He never has to guess what she is thinking. Her emotions are written on her face. Rarely, has he seen her guarded or closed off.

Though there are times when she is ashamed of her feelings— usually because of something his half-wit brother has said —the miko remains happy. She shares her smiles with everyone.

Even him.

By comparison, his mother is cold. She may love him— in her own way —but she does not express it through physical touch or words. His mother has always placed propriety over all else. Sesshomaru can only imagine how she would react if she saw the miko’s horrendous manners.

He smirks at the visual.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Air

The first time he encountered her alone was by that forsaken lake. What happened to her companions remains a mystery. All he knows is that he blames them for her plight. 

When he arrived at the water’s edge, the last thing he intended to do was enter. Then he saw her head crest the surface. Her arms flailed wildly and he went to her. 

Sometimes, he can still hear her frantic gasps for air. The sound haunts him even now. 

It is what makes him reach for her in the evening, seeking reassurance that she is safe. The way his fingers gently card through her hair is nothing like the desperate way she clung to him that day. Drenched and shivering, she had clamped onto him with more strength then he realized one so small could possess.

He had lent her mokomoko made and gone in search of wood to build a fire. Sesshomaru intended to warm her body and dry her clothes but when he had returned, she was gone.

The scent of his brother polluted the air— his only clue to what had happened to her.

And the only reason why he did not follow.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Black

The endless darkness terrifies her. Each and every time Kagome tries to enter the well, the memory of that day stops her. She stands there, frozen as the nightmare takes hold. Her crippling fear has already caused her to miss two exams and her little brother’s birthday. 

Kagome tells herself she won’t let one bad day ruin her. She flings herself over the side, dropping through the shaft with a scream. 

The portal opens. 

Kagome descends through the continuous void.

When her feet land in the dirt, she glances up, relieved to find herself not at the bottom of a deep lake but back at the shrine. 

But as she climbs out, Kagome finds herself remembering something else from that day.

The strong arms of the one who saved her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Pull

His constant indecision is akin to the push and pull of the sea. It wears him down, slowly taking over his sense of purpose bit by bit until he can no longer see reason.

Sesshomaru bypasses all protocol. He does not announce his intentions. He does not request permission. He does not wait.

In battle, if one remains still for too long, they will be discarded. The same can be said for courting. Sesshomaru can not afford to be stagnant. If he wishes to have the miko, he needs to act.

Now.

He slips away from his vassal’s prying eyes, dodges a run-in with the half-breed, and manages to scare off the wolf prince.

His efforts are not in vain.

When he finds her, she is alone in the hot springs.

He makes his move.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Distant

It is strange how far from someone you can feel even when they are walking right beside you. The realization has bothered Kagome all day. With each step the group takes toward defeating Naraku, she feels herself drifting further away from Inuyasha.

At first, Kagome figures it is because of Kikyo. Inuyasha doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that his ex-girlfriend is a clay doll. To him, Kikyo is still the perfect priestess she was in life. He doesn’t acknowledge the fact she relies on her soul scavengers to keep her standing upright or her disregard for others. 

Kagome isn’t sure how to feel about that. Sango tells Kagome to hate Kikyo but all Kagome feels toward the other woman is pity— pity for the life that has been stolen from her and pity for her lost chance with Inuyasha. It is cruel, unfair.

Once Kagome recognizes that she feels sorry for them, it is easier to let go. Pity isn’t love. Maybe she can love Inuyasha as a friend or even as a brother but Kagome will never feel for him the way he feels for Kikyo— the way they feel for each other.

She sinks into the hot spring, wondering where that leaves her. In truth, she has been considering a life here in the Feudal Era. It is easier to manage than entrance exams and job hunting. Kagome would rather face off against a demon than a math test any day.

“I’m ridiculous,” she mutters to herself.

“I disagree,” a deep voice replies.

Kagome’s eyes go wide as Sesshomaru steps into the springs.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Matter

She does not scream for her companions to come to her aid, nor does she make a move for her bow. Sesshomaru takes this as a sign that he can stay. He settles into a rock across from the miko, keeping his gaze upon her.

Droplets crash into the pool, falling from her wet bangs and sending ripples across the water’s surface. Her cheeks are painted scarlet and her eyes look at everything but him.

“You are unusually quiet this evening,” he remarks.

Her throat bobs slightly. Sesshomaru watches her lips part as if she means to speak to him. Then, she shakes her head and closes her mouth as quickly as she opened it.

“If you are concerned about my brother, you needn’t worry. He is preoccupied with that abomination he calls a lover,” Sesshomaru tells her.

Still, she says nothing.

Her head is angled down. Under the veil of steam, he can barely make out the color of her eyes. He wishes to be closer but he doesn’t dare move for fear is scaring her off.

“Are you frightened of me?”

The miko shakes her head.

“Then what is the matter?”

“Seriously?” she scoffs. She raises her face, glaring at him. “You’re naked!”

He blinks. “I fail to see the issue.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Light

Kagome covers her face with her hand. “I— uh, I’m going to go,” she announces. She reaches around behind her, trying to locate her towel.

Full moon was last week which means there is barely enough light to see anything. Well, anything except for Sesshomaru’s extremely defined chest.

Don’t go there, girl, she warns herself.

Her fingers close around soft fabric. Sighing with relief, Kagome slips out of the hot springs, making sure to hold the towel up to maintain her modesty.

As if there’s any of that left, she thinks ruefully remembering all the times Inuyasha and Miroku have spied on her and Sango. Perverts!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Radiant

Sesshomaru has never denied himself anything. What he wants he takes. He has the title, the strength, and the power to obtain what lever he desires.

Yet, when it comes to the miko, he restrains himself.

His eyes linger on the slender slopes of her shoulders, the gentle line of her spine, and supple curves of her breasts. She is radiant.

He does not stop her from leaving the spring. Nor does he call after her. She may not know how she affects him but he is acutely aware of how he affects her.

The air is thick with arousal. The taste of it hangs heavy on his tongue, a sampling of what is to come.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gravitate

Kagome nearly trips over her own feet as she hurries away from the springs. The only thing she can hear is her pulse ringing in her ears. The noise drowns out everything else and makes her feel a bit light-headed.

She stumbles into the clearing, earning her a curious look from her friends.

“Is everything alright, Kagome?” Sango asks.

“Yeah, yeah, everything is fine,” she answers, waving her friend off. “Just going to grab my stuff and get dressed.”

“Do you need any help?” Miroku inquires.

A smack echoes through the forest, causing Kagome to laugh. You think he’d have learned by now, she thinks, shaking her head.

With her pajamas in hand, she finds a quiet spot several paces away from the group. The branches overhead have blocked out almost all of the light, making it difficult to see.

Kagome fumbles and curses as she attempts to stick her foot through the leg of her pajama bottoms. It snags on the seam. She loses her balance and falls to the ground.

Groaning, she rubs her backside. That will leave a bruise.

With a sigh, Kagome hastily dressed before anyone comes over to see what all the commotion is about.

Just as she finishes slipping her top overhead, a voice whispers in her ear. “If you require assistance, all you need to do is ask.”

Kagome gasps. “Sesshomaru!”

He takes her hand and places a chaste kiss upon it. “Until next time.”

Then, he is gone.

But Kagome knows he’ll be back.

She wears a smile to sleep that night, dreaming of dancing in the dark.

[daddywanken0bi]

No More Nightmares

(gif not mine)

word count: 3.3k

author: Jess

warnings: NSFW, oral sex, unprotected sex, slight Master kink, breaking the Jedi code (but you knew that)

a/n: hi all! here’s a little one shot to keep you occupied while we work on those requests you sent in. hope you enjoy, and if you have any more ideas, feel free to send them our way!

-----

You woke up screaming again. Images of flames engulfing your village and droids slaughtering your neighbors flashed through your mind. The children’s screams were still ringing in your ears as you bolted upright in your bed, sweat drenching every part of you.

You sat with your head against the headboard and your arms hugging your knees, willing your breathing to even out. After a few minutes, you managed to calm yourself down long enough to grab a silk robe out of your closet. You slung it around your shoulders, the soft fabric comforting on your skin.

You hugged the robe tight around you and slid open the large glass door that led to the balcony outside. Coruscant stretched before you, speeders whizzing past and bright lights illuminating almost every building façade. You gazed up at the sky, but there was too much light pollution to see any of the stars or galaxies you were familiar with. You sighed and looked out at the giant city, lost in your own thoughts. 

A slight knock on the glass door startled you out of your reverie, and you spun around to see Obi Wan Kenobi hovering in the door frame. He was missing his overtunic, and the white undertunic was opened wider than normal at the top, exposing his wide chest and sharp collarbone. You could see a bit of wispy chest hair poking out of the cream-colored material and you suddenly had the urge to run your fingers through it. Your eyes snapped back to his when he spoke.

“I heard your screaming, so I came right away.” His bright blue eyes were filled with concern. You found yourself staring at them for a bit too long. Obi Wan took a step forward, his eyebrows scrunching with worry. “Are you alright?”

“I— um,” you stammered, all of the memories of your dreams flooding back at once. You felt tears sting your eyes and you turned away so he wouldn’t see.

A hand gently fell on your shoulder, and you could sense Obi Wan’s presence behind you. It took all of your willpower to retain what little composure you had and not fall back against his chest. 

“Was it another nightmare?” he asked softly, voice still low and rough from sleep.

You nodded, and a few tears escaped your eyelashes. You could feel your lower lip tremble, and you turned your face away again. “I’ll be fine, Master Kenobi. You may return to your quarters now.” 

Obi Wan had been assigned to ensure your safe arrival on Coruscant after you were the last survivor of a raid by the Separatists. That was his only assignment, not dealing with the burden of your trauma. Although, you had to admit you enjoyed his company. He was easy to talk to, and every time your hands brushed in the corridor, a spark ignited inside of you. And you had a feeling you weren’t the only one affected by how close you two had become. Lately, Obi Wan’s gaze had been drifting to you more and more often, and he had begun to find ways to ensure those little brushes of the hand occurred more frequently.

This was also not the first time he had been in your quarters well past dark. Your nightmares occurred far more often than you liked to admit, and every night, Obi Wan was at your side. He was careful not to cross any boundaries, simply handing you tissues should you need them, and being a reassuring presence. Last time, however, he sat on the bed beside you and rubbed soft circles on your back, speaking gently to you in a low tone as you calmed down. You had rested your head on his shoulder, both of you silent and gazing out at the city. Something had changed between you that night, although you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was.

You drifted back to the present as you felt a hand gently hook under your chin and turn you towards him. He gazed down at you, although you avoided his eyes, a blush creeping up your cheeks. He had never touched you like this before. His fingertips were as light as feathers as they brushed the stray tears off of your cheeks. His other hand still rested on your shoulder, and he slid it down your arm, encompassing one of your hands with his. You looked down in surprise, then back up at him. His blue eyes seemed to gaze into your soul, and you felt your heartbeat accelerate.

“Y/N,” he said softly, “You are safe here. They can’t harm you anymore.”

You felt tears rise in your eyes again, and your face crumpled with the relief of hearing someone say that to you. Without a word, Obi Wan pulled you to him and wrapped his arms around you securely. The surprise of his touch stopped your tears immediately, and you were rigid for a moment before melting into him. He was warm and solid, and smelled like a mix of clean cotton and warm musk. You wrapped your arms around his waist and nestled your face into his neck, sighing with the pleasure of finally being held. Obi Wan rested his chin on your head, and you both stood there for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of each other. 

You pulled away and looked up at him, suddenly registering how close you both were. And how little you were clothed. You could see the shadows of his long eyelashes on his cheeks, and the few moles that dotted his beautiful face. His body was hard and unyielding against yours, and you realized that your entire front half was smashed against his. His eyes went wide as he realized the same thing and moved to step away from you, but you held him in place. Your eyes flicked from his blue ones to his full lips and back again. Something was sparking inside your chest, and it was making your face heat.

“Obi Wan,” you breathed, moving your face closer to his so that your noses were almost touching.

His eyes locked on your lips and you heard him take a sharp breath. “We can’t,” he muttered. “The Jedi Code—.”

“Is a strict and outdated way of life,” you finished for him. You raised an eyebrow, and he huffed a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “All I know,” you continued, “is that I want you. I have for a long time.”

His eyes bored into you, and you could see the inner battle he was waging with himself. You rested a hand on his cheek, and he closed his eyes, enjoying your touch. “Please,” you whispered. You needed to know that you weren’t the only one feeling something between you. Obi Wan’s blue eyes snapped open, and you could see his restraint loosening as he looked at you. He whispered your name like a prayer, gazing at your lips. “Please,” you repeated. Something shifted inside of him, and within moments his lips were on yours. Your eyes fluttered shut and you lost the capability to feel anything but his warm, soft lips against your own. Almost of their own volition, your hands moved up his back, tracing the hard curves of muscle there. He gripped your waist tighter, pulling you even harder against him. Your fingers made their way up to his hair and buried themselves in it. You tugged slightly, and an involuntary groan escaped his mouth, filling your chest with heat. And another part of you, too. Obi Wan kissed you deeper, and he sucked on your bottom lip, hard. You let out a whimper, and he pulled back from you, eyes ablaze. He looked so beautiful with his cheeks flushed and his hair ruffled.

“That,” you told him, your voice low, “I didn’t expect.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, and a devilish grin turned up the edges of his mouth. His eyes glinted with humor and something else, something a little darker. “The Jedi never tell all of their secrets.” You laughed, and his eyes returned to yours, searching for something deep within them. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. “If we continue—“

You rolled your eyes. “I know, I know. The Jedi Code.” Brushing your fingers along his bare collarbone, you felt a shiver go through him. You stood on your tip toes, until your mouth brushed his ear. “I’ve never been more sure of anything,” you murmured. “I want you.”

An almost animalistic groan escaped Obi Wan’s lips, and he smashed his lips against yours again. He kissed you like he was a man dying of thirst, and you were the last drink of water in the whole galaxy. Never letting his lips leave yours, he scooped you into his arms bridal style and carried you back through the sliding glass door into your bedroom. You felt his fingers twitch underneath you, and the glass door slid shut, locking securely behind you. He moved his hand again, and the curtains started to slide shut. You broke apart from him and whispered, “No. Leave them open. I want to see you, all of you.” 

He nodded slightly, and gazed down at you, a small smile playing at his lips. “As you wish, love” he replied. Ever so gently, he let you down on the floor, the hard marble cold against your bare feet. You began to take off your robe, but he stopped you. “Let me,” he said gently. Standing in front of you, he pulled his undertunic over his head, revealing his broad chest covered with blonde wispy hair. You reached out and placed your hands against him, finally able to run your fingers through the soft fuzz. You trailed a finger down his chest and followed the hairline to his navel, hooking a finger in his trousers. His breath caught, and he trailed kisses down your neck and shoulders as he removed your silk robe. Discarding it on the floor, he leaned down and removed his boots, then reached for his cloth belt, slowly undoing it. His eyes never left yours, and your heart was in your mouth as he dropped his trousers to the floor. You could see his erection tenting his undergarments, and you licked your lips. You removed your sheer nightgown, Obi Wan’s hands guiding it over your head. His fingers brushed your bare waist as he helped, and you shivered as the cold air bit at your exposed breasts.

You stood there looking at each other for a few moments, drinking each other in. “You’re so beautiful,” Obi Wan whispered, brushing a strand of hair behind your ears. His lips were on yours again in an instant, and this time it was hungrier, more urgent. He somehow managed to lay you both on the bed with little trouble, and he bit your lower lip again, causing a moan to escape your lips. You buried your fingers in his hair as he trailed kisses down your body, stopping to run an expert tongue over your nipples. You groaned in pleasure, and he hummed, sucking the sensitive areas and running his teeth over the hard peaks. He released your breasts and continued down to your stomach, kissing every inch of you that he could touch. 

When he got to your panties, his eyes gazed up at you, as if asking for permission. You nodded slightly, and he slid your undergarments down your thighs gently, discarding them on the floor. He eased your legs apart and groaned when he saw your pussy. He locked his gaze on yours again. “Already so wet for me,” Obi Wan said, voice rough. A finger traced up your slit and you whimpered, wanting to feel him inside of you. He didn’t make you wait long, easing his middle finger into you, causing you to gasp in pleasure. He chuckled at your reaction and studied your face as he slipped another finger in. “Ahh, there’s a good girl.” 

Slowly, he started to move his fingers inside of you, and you arched your back in pleasure. Obi Wan fell into a steady rhythm, his expert fingers knowing just where to press, just what spot to hit. You moaned, louder than you should have, and he murmured, “Shh. Let’s be quiet now, love. Wouldn’t want to wake the whole building, now would we?” You shook your head, lost in the pleasure he was making you feel. You looked down at him, and he grinned mischievously before lowering his mouth onto your already sensitive clit. He flicked back and forth with his tongue, and you moaned his name. That elicited a groan from him, vibrating your clit. Obi Wan began to move faster, three fingers now moving deep within you, and his tongue circling your clit. It wasn’t long before you felt the rising heat of an orgasm coming on.

“Obi Wan,” you panted, “Please, I’m so close.”

He hummed again on your clit, blue eyes locked on yours. You suddenly felt ghostly hands caress your nipples, pinching and squeezing. You buried your fingers in his hair as Obi Wan flicked his tongue faster, bringing you over the brink of orgasm. Lights exploded behind your eyes, and it took everything in your power not to scream out his name. Instead, you whimpered and pulled at his locks, holding on for dear life as you rode out your climax.

After you caught your breath again, Obi Wan rose from the foot of the bed, wiping your juices off his mouth with a long finger. He crawled up to you on all fours, and you brought his face closer to you with both hands, capturing his lips with yours. You could still taste yourself on his mouth, and you ran your tongue along his bottom lip, causing another groan to escape him.

You broke apart, breathing heavily, and a you felt a smile stretch your lips. You could feel his hard cock resting against your leg, and you kissed him again, deeply. “I think,” you said between kisses, “it’s time for me to return the favor. Lie down, love.” 

He did as you asked, and you straddled his hips, feeling his hard member dig into your still sensitive pussy. Obi Wan closed his eyes at the friction. “Fuck,” he groaned. You trailed soft kisses down his jawline to his neck, feeling the hairs of his beard tickle your lips. You made your way down his body, kissing down the line of hair you had traced with your finger earlier. When you arrived at his hips, you palmed his erection through his undergarments, earning a hiss in response. You smirked at him, knowing full well he could see the lust in your eyes. 

You didn’t want to admit it, but you had fantasized about his cock multiple times, and it was even better than you imagined. You drew his underwear down his legs and tossed it to the side. You traced a finger across the tip of his cock, smearing the precum that was bubbling up there. He groaned your name, and you decided that it would be foolish to make him wait any longer. 

You bent down and slipped his dick into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip. Obi Wan inhaled sharply and thrust involuntarily into your mouth. Little by little you took more of him, until you could feel his member pulsing at the back of your throat. “Fuck,” he swore again, and he reached down and pulled your chin up to look at him, harsher than before. His eyes were dark with lust, and it only made you suck him harder. “That’s right, little one. Take this cock,” he growled. You nodded obediently, trailing your tongue along the underside of his member. You felt him twitch, and your own walls clenched in response, reminding you that you still hadn’t had him inside you yet.

You released his dick from your mouth, stroking him one last time before straddling him again. The tip of his cock slid against your slit and you both moaned. “You want this, don’t you Master?” you asked Obi Wan, teasing the head of his cock against your entrance. He inhaled sharply at what you had called him, and you felt his dick twitch in your hand. “Yes,” he breathed, and you slipped him inside of you, never breaking eye contact with him. You both let out groan as he sank inside of you, feeling all of him for the first time. He stretched your walls, and slowly you started to move. Any bit of friction caused you to gasp quietly, and Obi Wan gazed up at you with a mixture of adoration and lust. 

“You are so beautiful,” he repeated. 

“Aren’t you glad I told you to keep the curtains open?” you joked. 

He simply nodded, pushing himself even farther into you. “I love seeing your face as I fuck you.”

You blushed, but he brought you down on top of him so your chests were pressed against each other. Obi Wan began to move in a steady rhythm, the sound of your wet pussy mixing with your panting. You held him tight, face buried in his neck to suppress your moans. He moved faster and faster, and you sat up again to feel him deeper inside of you. The warm feeling of an orgasm spread through your stomach, and you moved a hand to rub your clit and send yourself over the edge. Wordlessly, Obi Wan took both your hands in his, stopping you from rubbing your sensitive nub. You whimpered, but felt a finger of the Force swirl around your clit. 

You gasped, eyes closing in pleasure. It really was convenient to fuck a Jedi; they could do anything they wanted. “Fuck, Obi Wan,” you moaned. “I’m getting close.”

“Me too, love” he groaned, and you felt phantom hands slam encase your waist and slam you up and down harder on his cock. Obi Wan still held your fingers securely in his own, and squeezed them tightly as you felt your walls clench around him.

“Oh fuck, Obi Wan, I’m gonna— FUCK,” you squealed, bouncing harder as your climax overtook you. You couldn’t focus on anything except the pulsing of your pussy, lost in a haze of pleasure. “That’s right,” he groaned. “Come for your Master.”

Obi Wan moaned your name, and you felt him thrust hard into you, filling you with his cum. He pumped a few more times as you both came down from your climax, breathing hard. You got off of him and fetched a tissue, cleaning yourself and him off gently. He watched you with wonder as you gently scooped his seed off of him, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. You kissed him softly on the mouth, and he brushed a finger over your cheek, his eyes filled with awe. After you were clean, you climbed under the covers with him, both of you still undressed. He wrapped you in his arms, and you snuggled closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his warmth and security. 

He kissed the top of your head. “I’ll have to leave by sunrise,” he told you. You almost didn’t hear the soft, “I— I love you” he added afterwards, stammering like he almost didn’t know how to say it.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, yawning. Your eyes drifted shut and the rhythm of Obi Wan’s breathing slowed with your own. You fell asleep in his arms, knowing that you wouldn’t have another nightmare if he was with you.

[re-diesirae]

Chapter 4

1. Claire

Her head hurt like hell. That was the first thought that crossed Claire's mind as she regained her senses. Her surroundings were dark, and she felt the unfamiliar rocky ground under her hand.

"Great," Claire sighed, grabbing her head and feeling a little dizzy, "Why do I always end up in these places?"

The auburn headed looked around, ignoring the dizziness and the need to throw up that she was feeling. It was dark, damp, and for what she could tell, it looked like she was in some cave or tunnel. Claire sat up, resting her back against a near wall. It took her some minutes to put her thoughts back in order. Her memories were chaotic. She remembered fighting with some unknown men in the Command Room, and then, she had a blackout. Her last memories were of Leon, fire, pain, and a lot of noise. Wait, Leon?

"Leon?" she asked, trying to stand up.

There was no answer, and Claire looked around, concerned. She was sure she'd seen Leon. He had been with her before, and his current absence made Claire worry.

She tried to stand up so that she could search the area for her friend, but a wave of dizziness staggered her. The bastards had probably hit her head, and she'd not be surprised if she had a concussion. She needed to recover a little before she could think of moving.

"Leon? Are you there?" she called into the darkness, but no answer again.

He is an agent. He is going to be alright.

Claire took a deep breath, letting the oxygen fill her lungs and reach her head. The headache was annoying, but she could handle it. The pain wasn't enough to hinder her. She took some minutes to calm down and clear her head as much as she could.

"Fantastic," Claire sighed, "knowing my luck, I am probably in another experimental facility. I'll need a weapon if that's the case."

It took her some more minutes to be able to see. Her vision was still slightly blurry, but it was enough for her to move without issues.

Claire navigated herself through the darkness, using the wall as a guide. The terrain wasn't friendly to navigate, especially in the dark. Claire stumbled several times on the uneven ground; the last thing she needed now was to fall and damage her head even more.

It was too quiet for her taste, silent as death, and in her experience, dead things rarely stayed like that in these circumstances.

I am technically useless right now.

Claire wasn't in the best of shapes. Her vision was unreliable, her movements were slow and clumsy due to her headache, even her balance was giving her problems, and to top all that, she was weaponless. Her only hope was that there wouldn't be any enemies on her way out of the tunnel. She tried calling for Leon a couple of times, but the lack of replies made her assume that the agent was not anywhere around.

She knew Leon. If he were there, he'd find his way and meet her, eventually.

"Well, at least I'll get some friendly company," she sighed, "but first things first. I need to get out of here."

Claire's sight was getting used to the dark, but her dizziness was complicating things in many ways. Suddenly, Claire heard a loud howl in the distance, and a chill ran down her spine. She hated it when she was right; her hopes of having an easy way out crumbled in seconds. There was something in there, most likely a mutant monster, ready to tear her into pieces at any possible chance. A fight was unavoidable, but if she had to fight, she hoped to have at least a chance to defend herself, and to do that, she needed a weapon.

Claire rushed her pace, hoping that she was on the right track. After some stressing moments of silences and darkness, the tunnel finally opened up, and she caught the smell of grass and damp soil. She had made it outside. The fresh air and the view of the sky sparkled with stars made her feel better both physically and mentally.

"Right, this isn't time to feel relieved," Claire admonished herself. "I am still unarmed, lost, and most likely surrounded by vicious foes. I need to move."

Claire looked around here. At least, the light from the stars and moon allowed her a better look at her surroundings. Judging by the appearance of the sky, Claire could tell she had to be somewhere very far from the city. The sky looked beautiful, and that could only mean that the light pollution in the place was minimal.

After scanning around her for a bit, she noticed some lights in the distance. There were insignificant, and Claire guessed that it had to be a village or a small town. If her situation were like her previous misadventures, the place would probably be crawling with undead things, and god knew what other mutants. In other words, heading to a human settlement in her current situation screamed "bad idea" in capital letters. However, just like the place was the best place to find nasty creatures, it was also a place where she would most likely find weapons and other useful things.

It was a dangerous bet for all she cared, she had little to lose, and besides, it wasn't the first time she'd found herself in a place infested by zombie-mutant creatures.

The young woman found a trail that, she guessed, would lead to the settlement and followed it cautiously. She walked for some minutes, and she, surprisingly, didn't encounter any foes. However, she wasn't entirely sure of whether that was good or bad.

"No monsters," Claire said, frowning with distrust, "Now, I call that suspicious."

Claire had dealt with enough zombie outbreaks already to know that zombies were never quiet. A town hit by a virus meant lots of infected people, and lots of infected people meant lots of hostiles.

"Why is it so empty?" Claire asked softly.

Looks can be deceiving.

Claire made her way into town cautiously. Just because there were no monsters in sight didn't mean they weren't nearby. She reached town after some minutes of walking through the vegetation. Her walk gave her a chance to do some recognizance of her surroundings.

Claire entered town cautiously, and as soon as she had set a step there, a stinging pain pierced through her skull, causing her to hive. The ache brought a series of disjointed and blurred visions that Claire quickly associated with her nightmares.

"Ag," she groaned, "why am I getting flashbacks from that damn place right now?"

The village was different from the one Sushestvivanie, so she wasn't sure what had triggered the memories.

Claire looked around her. Unlike the Russian town, which had looked like no one had lived in it for ages, this village still looked lived in despite the lack of population.

"Right, the question now is what happened to the people," Claire muttered, "Ok, Claire. Pull yourself together. We need to get weapons."

Claire walked around carefully, peeking inside the house through the windows. The place seemed frozen in time. It was a typical scenario that Claire had gotten used to finding. People must have gotten suddenly infected, and amid the chaos, everyone had abandoned what they were doing without looking back.

Claire sighed with sadness as she searched for supplies amid the chaos inside the houses. The bloodstains she found on several confirmed her fears regarding the locals. Most likely, there were no healthy people left in the place.

Claire found an old hunting rifle in one of the houses, and after searching a little more, she found ammo, a knife, and a sturdy chain. She had no idea if the chain could be useful, but hell, she would take it anyway.

Claire noticed a slight movement from the corner of her eye. It'd been fast, a white blur that she wasn't able to discern.

"Hello?" she said cautiously, "anyone there?"

No answer. Claire's grip on the old rifle tightened. She looked around, almost holding her breath. The complete silence around her made her extremely uneasy. There were no birds, no insects, nothing, which in nature's language only meant one thing. There was a predator nearby.

ROOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAR

Claire started to regret her complaints about the lack of noise. That roar was something she wished she had not heard. It sounded distant, so at least Claire might have a chance to avoid the confrontation. She didn't know what waited for her out there and her supplies were not infinite.

"Time to play stealthy," she said, moving out of the house carefully.

Claire reached the street, and to her annoyance, she found her path blocked by unfriendly looking villagers. She made a quick diagnosis on their appearance and quickly concluded that they were not T-virus infected, but they had to have something.

"Alright, not sure I should be happy about that," she said, aiming her rifle at the hostiles and shooting them with perfect aim.

"Purplish-gray skin; dilated, bloodshot eyes and inhuman vocalization," Claire listed, shooting the approaching enemies, "Reasoning still intact."

The hostiles weren't moving randomly. Even though their actions didn't move under intellectual reasoning, there was some thought behind them.

"They still hold some reason," Claire realized."That cuts down the list of possible pathogens..."

She alternated her attacks between gunshots and using the knives. She still wanted to save ammo as much as she could. Surprisingly, handling these guys was being a lot easier than she expected, and that was starting to worry her. For the third time in the day, she hated when she was right.

A howl cut through the air, making Claire shiver. To her horror, she saw how a deformed creature appeared out of nowhere and launched in her direction. She reacted mechanically and jumped out of the street, taking cover behind a pile of wooden boxes.

Claire had never seen any creature like that, but she guessed that this was one of Neo-Umbrella's new toys. The monster was humanoid, but its body was elongated and ghoulish thin. The skin was pale, and part of the tissue was decaying and falling in pieces. Claire noted that aside from an unnatural big mouth, there were no other features on the creature's face.

The creature grabbed a bunch of the villagers with its elongated arms and brought them to its mouth.

Is it eating them? That's new.

The BOWs created from variations of the progenitor virus needed fresh DNA to stabilize. That was the reason why they would attack people and eat them. Usually, the monsters would not feed on fellow creatures. Then again, this guy probably did not mind about freshness, and his only interest was dinner. She'd have to hurry, or she'd end up as dessert.

Taking advantage of the chaos, she dodged the villagers and ran off. Confronting this thing now would only bring her into an early death, and wise people knew when to retreat.

Unfortunately, her escape would not be easy, and she cursed as she sliced the throats of a couple of villagers as she ran past them. Her head was starting to hurt again, and she could tell that the dizziness was coming back.

Her run came to an abrupt stop when another deformed creature appeared in front of her. Once more, it seemed to be a new one monster, but unlike the other one she'd seen, it was smaller and more human-like.

"Oh, come on. Give me a break."

Claire shot the monster a couple of times only to find that, to her dismay, it did nothing. Its decaying skin was sturdier than it looked. Suddenly, a loud growl made her look back, and she groaned. The bigger guy had caught up with her, too, which meant that they had cornered her. Cursing her luck, Claire looked around, trying to come up with a plan. She ran into what seemed to be a storage shack. If she was lucky enough, maybe she could find something useful.

"Fuel tanks," Claire said, looking around her, "Ok, I am not going to ask why they keep this here. Well, this will come in handy, now, how do I use them without killing myself in the process?"

Claire was trying to formulate a plan when the shriek and the sound of wood breaking startled her. The smallest monster had managed to enter the cellar. The creature shook its head as if trying to track its prey.

Shit.

Claire looked around her in a panic. She saw a window nearby, and she made a run to it. The monster chased after her, howling horribly. Claire jumped through the glass, spinning at the last second, and shot her rifle into the closest tank. The result was instantaneous. The barrel exploded, creating a chain reaction of fire and destruction. The wave of the explosion hit Claire directly, and the woman flew a couple of meters into the woods that surrounded the town. She rolled down the hill, hitting her head, face, and limbs against rocks and wood before falling into a ditch filled with plants. The pain in her head had become so strong that she barely had time to realize what had happened before she lost consciousness.

[jiminniethemarshmallow]

Fairy Dust

Pairing: Jimin x reader

Genre: adventure, fantasy, fluff

Word Count: 22k

(A/N): This is my first time writing anything like this and boy was it tough! Also I really didn’t mean for it to be this long so oops 😬

For BCC One Summer Night Project

You follow Jimin away from your campsite off the beaten path on a journey guided by starlight, walking hand in hand and treading lightly so as not to disturb the wildlife around you. You weave through the wooded area of your night trail to a destination that your boyfriend has not yet disclosed to you. Shades of midnight blues and purples color what was once green and brown around you, blackening shapes at your feet that you step over with care.

“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” You fret with a chuckle, enjoying the warmth of his fingers when they squeeze yours.

“Of course, I used to come here all the time with my family. It’s right up ahead.” He points with a finger you can barely see in the dim lighting. You trust him, shrugging to yourself as you trek on. He stops you a few steps later, looking down at his feet until you do the same and come to the realization that there is a stream in your path. “I’ll go first.”

He demonstrates by stepping on a flat stone in the center of the water source, leaping to the other side gracefully before turning to offer you his hand and a smile. Your movements are a lot more unsteady than his. A hesitant step on the stone is all you can manage before you’re grasping for his hand, stumbling to his side and nearly pulling both of you down into the water, a few bugs flying up at your rough landing. It’s smooth sailing after that, avoiding a fallen log, regretfully stepping over the corpse of a poor decaying animal, and brushing past short shrubbery before you finally reach a clearing with a perfect view of the starry ceiling above you.

“Wow,” From this vantage point at your altitude in these mountains the beautiful glow of the galaxy is not clouded by pollution or artificial light. You’ve never seen so many stars in your life, all twinkling at you in clusters of white dots that form patterns and constellations above your head. Jimin pulls a purple blanket from the bag on his back, placing it in the uncut grass at the center of the meadow. You take a seat next to him, laying back to curl into his chest comfortably as his arms come to wrap around you.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” He asks in a whisper, watching the environment around you come to life from your movement. Fireflies rise above the blades of green beneath you to put on a display of light for you, creating their own pictures that rival even the stars.

“It’s... perfect.” You are utterly speechless, simply thankful that he decided to share this with you. Looking up, you discover that he is no longer looking around but is focused solely on you now, and when you lock eyes, you lean in for a kiss. You could swear that the fireflies around you begin to circle around your bodies once your lips touch, your eyes now closed and a delicious scent engulfing you. It’s easy to get lost in Jimin’s kiss, so easy that you begin to lose track of time and space and lose consciousness.

“Why did you pick them?” A voice sounds distantly, distorted oddly in your ears.

“Uhm, well, I- uh,” The timid squeak comes from much closer, and you can almost hear the nervous way the mysterious person gnaws on their lip. A loud sigh. “We’re desperate.”

“...Fine. But you couldn’t have found someone more— I don’t know— muscular than them? I mean come on, they’re both practically splinters!”

“There was no one else around... maybe we could make this a stealth mission instead?”

Your eyes start to crack open once the grogginess fades, a soft and fuzzy fabric swallowing you in its folds. Jimin is not in your immediate line of sight and everything is brighter than you remember. Your head lifts before you’ve gotten both eyes fully open, alerting the two that now accompany you.

“Oh, one of them is awake!” The timid voice whispers, and the first thing to come into view is a flawless face, features too smooth and delicate to be real. The woman’s skin sparkles as if she had been bathed in glitter, but it seems that she’s producing her own light, an supernatural glow outlining her body and... wings? Maybe your eyes were still adjusting...

“Mm, what happened?” You mumble, your mind feeling hazy. Once your eyes fully focus, you jump at her proximity.

“W-wow, I didn’t know humans were this pretty.” She gushes, earning a slap on the shoulder from the other person she’s with. Looking to the left, you find a shorter woman whose features are just as undefined as her taller counterpart, the same glow haloed around her.

“Don’t say things like that.” She scolds.

“Jimin?!” Suddenly you think of your boyfriend, who you have yet to see, and begin to search around, finally taking in your surroundings and noticing that you appear to be lost in a sea of purple, blanket-like material, its folds blocking and trapping you as you move around to find your partner. You call out to him again, this time receiving a response.

“(Y/n)?” He sounds sleepy, probably just waking up from whatever slumber you had fallen into.

“We should help.” The taller woman says, appearing behind you to grab you under your arms and lift you. Lift you? Wait, were you flying?! Your legs dangle as you rise higher above your fabric prison, the new perspective allowing you to see that you were surrounded by giant blades of grass and that you had, in fact, been on your blanket. She lowers you next to Jimin, huffing from the exertion, and you scramble to his side. What the hell was going on?

“Did you just... Fly?” He looks at you funny, then turns his attention to the two mysterious figures who have yet to introduce themselves.

“Hello, humans.” The shorter one starts awkwardly, cringing at herself. “You’ve finally awoken! That’s good.” There’s quiet— well, not really, the atmosphere is no longer muffled sounds of the forest, but now resembles a bustling town in daylight. Everything is so much louder. “W-well, my name is Alva and that’s Laila,” She nods in the other’s direction.

“What happened to us? Why did we pass out?” You question immediately, not bothering with self-introduction.

“O-oh, well, y-you both, um,” Laila starts, unable to look either of you in the eye. “What I mean to say is... you- we kind of-“

“We sprinkled you with Fairy Dust.” Alva finishes bluntly. Your jaws drop. She can’t be serious, this must be a joke. Yet you can’t bring yourself to laugh. No, she looks too serious.

“Fairy dust?” Jimin barely cracks a smile, subconsciously touching your arm to make sure this isn’t a dream.

“Y-yeah, but it appears I was a bit heavy handed. My apologies.” Laila smiles wryly, wringing her hands together nervously. “We are the fairies that live in this forest, and we need your help to save a dear comrade.” It is only then that you actually process what you’re looking at. The two of them hover in front of you, their wings fluttering gracefully like those of a hummingbird, the movement too quick for your eyes to perceive.

“Are we fairies now too?” Jimin checks his own body, then yours, inspecting you for any differences. The only thing that has changed is your size, and he sighs in relief.

“For the most part you are just tiny humans now, but we can make you wings if you so desire.” Alva deadpans, impatiently waiting for you to come to terms with the situation. She continues before you have the chance to let things sink in. “Stink bugs have infested these lands and have made their home by the water source, blocking all creatures on this side of the meadow from reaching the water’s edge. We fairies have put up a resistance to this, and in retaliation, they have kidnapped our leader. Please, we kindly ask for your help in retrieving her.”

“Why can’t you save her yourselves? Don’t you have an army?” Jimin frowns, unsure of how he feels about being this little. You may still be in shock.

“They have fortified their home with troops that protect them from land and air. In order to enter their territory, we would need to get past them, but they attack everything that they identify as being from this side of the meadow.” A chill runs up your spine. Were you willing to embark on a dangerous mission like this?

“But t-their eyesight is pretty bad, so they might not recognize you as fairies, even with wings.” Laila speaks up when she sees you wavering. “You may be able to negotiate a way in.”

“I don’t know about this.” Your boyfriend murmurs to you as he weighs your safety versus adventure. He’s always so kindhearted, so you know he wants to help them, but how far was he willing to go if danger was involved? If it was you he was worried about, you wanted to quell his fears.

“It sounds scary, honestly. But when in our lives will we get another chance to do something like this? We get to be fairies! That’ll never happen to us again.” You smile. But suddenly your eyes shoot wide, turning to the women again. “Wait, this does wear off, right? We won’t be stuck like this forever?”

“Well, there is a spell to reverse this, but the fairy you must rescue is the only one who has mastered it.” Laila offers with another apologetic look.

“Then we have to! This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, we have to take advantage. These people need our help! Plus, what else are we going to do while we’re this tiny? Might as well become hero’s while we’re at it.” You chuckle, pulling a smile from him. “If it gets dangerous we’ll protect each other, promise.”

“What if something goes wrong and one of us gets hurt?” He asks. It’s uncharacteristic of him to worry like this, but this is uncharted territory so you can understand his apprehension. But as a couple you are known for your adventurous nature— hell, he’s the one who suggested going camping in the Rocky Mountains by yourselves in the first place. You won’t let him back down from this.

“What if everything goes right?” Your hand finds its way into his, squeezing in reassurance as he looks over your face. With a second more of hesitation, Jimin finally nods in agreement and the two fairies sigh in relief.

The mission they explain to you seems very much like the objective of a video game: traverse through different landscapes and hone your skills until you reach the villain’s lair, where you will then attempt to rescue the princess (or in this case, fairy leader) and defeat the villain. Of course, you will be responsible for coming up with the plan once you reach the lair because the fairies know nothing about where their leader is kept or what the stink bug king will think of you. It is entirely possible that you’ll be able to negotiate with him to release their leader and stop blocking the waterway, but it’s more exciting to think you’ll do a bit of fighting.

“We have supplies and tools for you that will be helpful for you on your journey.” Alva is kinder to you now, advising you to come along to their home to prepare for your mission.

“We don’t have wings yet...” You point out, assuming that you would fly to their abode.

“Obviously.” She rolls her eyes at you, not bothering to explain. A high pitched whistle comes from her with little effort, followed by an intense buzzing noise approaching from behind. You and Jimin turn in horror as 3 giant fireflies appear from the sky, landing weightlessly on the surface before you with a blinding flash of light. It is then that you realize that the brightness in the sky above you isn’t from sunlight, but are actually the bulbs of the fireflies you had admired before. The three in front of you dim their lights to save your eyes, peering down at you with curiously large eyes.

Laila begins to speak with them in a language of chirps and clicks, and much to your surprise, they respond energetically to her. Although you now pale in comparison to these creatures, they are still awe-inspiring; with their red upper bodies that contrast so prettily with the luminescent glow of their yellow-green rears, the hard outer wings that protect the delicate transparent wings beneath that you’ve never noticed until now. Never in your life have you expected to see any bug from this close up.

Laila lets out a laugh that brings your attention back to her. “They agreed to give us a lift home.” She seems brighter after the interaction, though she still refuses to look you in the eye. “Ah! Let me introduce you— this is Magus,” She points to the one on the right, who tilts his head down at you in what you assume to be a bow. “This is Meri,” the one on the left nods at you two as well and you nudge Jimin in his side to offer a bow back. “And this is Garnet, named for her color.” The firefly in the center lifts her wings slightly in greeting and it takes immense self control not to step back in intimidation. She is the largest of the 3 and her color is distinctly different, her body appearing as a deep shade of red mimicking that of a garnet stone, as opposed to the pinkish shade that her counterparts take on.

“Since there are two of you, you will be traveling on Garnet because she is the biggest.” Alva explains, already in the air and mounted on Magus’ back.

“Wait, you want us to ride on its back?!” Jimin seems startled as you walk ahead of him and reach your hand out to Garnet, touching her head. Normally bugs were something you feared, but you have a newfound sense of bravery that is sparked by the novelty of this experience. “(Y/n), don’t touch it!” He shouts, eyebrows furrowing cutely when your hand makes contact with the insect.

“Babe, it’s fine, stop being so wimpy.” You snicker at his distress. “She won’t hurt us, I can tell. She’s nice.” The firefly chitters at you, causing Laila to giggle.

“She says to hop on, she doesn’t bite. But if you need a nip of encouragement she’s more than willing to give you one.” Jimin shutters and takes a hesitant step forward, following your lead with a soft pat to her head. She lowers to the ground as much as she can, and the two of you hop on with Jimin in front and your arms wrapped comfortably around his waist. He can feel your smile and it gives him a little peace of mind.

“No offense, but we don’t have time for cowardice. Anything could be happening to our leader right now and the more time we waste, the more danger we put her in.” Alva cuts in sharply with a twitch of her wings.

“Grab the ropes and hold on tight.” Directing your gaze to the thin ropes seamlessly attached to the smooth surface of Garnet’s shell— by magic, you assume— you take Laila’s advice and grab onto them from behind Jimin. “I already told her where we’re going, just tap her back twice to signal when you’re ready and she’ll take off.”

“Are you ready?” Your boyfriend asks, rolling his shoulders.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” At your confirmation, he taps his hand on the hard shell and her wings open up, fluttering loudly on either side of you before you begin to lift from the ground. You rise quickly yet carefully, and you can’t help but let out an elated squeal as the earth beneath you gets farther and farther away. The footprints you left in the grass when you arrived in the meadow have somewhat disappeared as the blades slowly return to their normal standing position, but you can still see the sheer size of them compared to how small you are now. Even from high up they look enormous, each one flattening an area that would probably take you several minutes to cross on foot. But the most amazing sight of all is something that Jimin points out with a dropped jaw.

The blanket that you had both been comfortably laying on not 10 minutes prior was now unreasonably large and you struggle to comprehend the scale. If being on the back of a bug wasn’t enough, seeing your own belongings look so disproportionate compared to you is what makes you realize just how tiny you really are. It’s almost frightening being so small and fragile, the human body does not have many natural adaptations to fend off the world making this situation that much more dangerous, but having Jimin with you eases your heart significantly. He isn’t the strongest or the bravest, or even the smartest for that matter, but you know that if you work together you’ll be alright. At least that’s what you tell yourself as you cling to him on your way up into the trees, not missing the opportunity to take in the view.

You’re taken to what looks to be a treehouse, perched on one of the thin branches at the top of a tree. It could be mistaken for a small bird’s nest from the outside, but the home is actually complexly made with a variety of materials and innovation you are unfamiliar with. Jimin grabs your hand immediately after you dismount from Garnet, glancing down from your height with a silent warning. Of course he’s weary, if either of you fell from this distance you would be dead before you were halfway down the trunk. Even a fall to the next branch down would be life threatening, but you try not to think about it as you walk carefully to the entrance of the home.

“Do not touch anything.” Alva hisses as she holds the door open for you. The inside of the abode is cozier than you expected, sheltered from the chill of the night and decorated with art and color.

“Alva, don’t be so crude to our guests.” Laila scolds, wringing her hands again. She seems to be nervous once more without the presence of her firefly companions.

“Do you live here together?” You ask, moving to inspect some items on a bookshelf. Jimin smacks your hand when you go to lift something up, reminding you of Alva’s warning.

“Y-yes.” Laila nods, turning away from you when you meet her eyes. They say no more on the matter so you don’t press it. “Anyway, you’ll need a few things for your journey. We’ll accompany you most of the way, but we won’t be able to enter once we reach the stink bug’s territory so you’ll need disguises.”

“I thought you said they won’t recognize us?” Jimin questions, walking over to where Alva is hard at work crafting something on a workbench.

“The stink bugs won’t, but they have spies everywhere. We’ll have to pass through some town centers on the way there and that’s where you’ll have the highest risk of being discovered. Also, they know that the two of us are part of the resistance so they will automatically be suspicious if we’re seen traveling together.” She murmurs. You watch as she sprinkles glowing dust onto the table, grabbing tools that glow similarly and manipulating the powder with skilled hands.

“That’s Fairy Dust.” Laila whispers to you when she sees the looks of confusion on your faces. It looks just how you imagined it would.

“So, are you saying that we’ll have to go through the town centers by ourselves?” Jimin’s question makes your heart jump with nerves.

“Yes and no. We’ll have to walk through the towns since their surveillance is stricter on air traffic, but all you have to do is follow behind us and everything will be fine. We’ll go first and lead the way while you trail a safe distance behind us. We can fly together between towns, when we’re not being watched.”

“Fly?” How would you fly if you didn’t have wings like them? You’ll probably use the fireflies again, so you don’t fret, but Alva shakes her head.

“What do you think I’m doing right now?” She asks rhetorically, rolling her eyes at your stupid question. “I’m making you wings so that you can fly with us.” Just as she says this, her workspace begins to glow red.

The Fairy Dust had somehow turned into thin sheets of glass-like material while you were looking away, inflexible and cloudy in quality but now burning a bright red color. Alva whispers something under her breath as she places her hands over the material, closing her eyes in focus. The glowing intensifies and Jimin pulls you back a few steps protectively to look on at a safer distance. Amazingly, the material transforms right before your eyes into transparent and featherlight wings that mimic those of the fairies beside you. They bend when she lifts them, they look extremely frail and delicate, so thin that you almost want to doubt their capabilities in holding you up in midair.

“Turn around.” She instructs quickly to you, using two fingers to rub more Fairy Dust on the edges of each wing. You spin for her and feel her move closer before pausing. The perplexed and irritated look on her face can be felt through the thick air and you don’t even have to see her to sense it.

“What’s wrong?” Jimin dares, eyes flicking back and forth between you.

“What covers your skin?” She asks, much to your confusion. You want to answer but you honestly have no idea what she’s referring to. Neither does Jimin.

“I believe they call them ‘clothes’”. Laila responds quietly.

“Ew, remove them.” The disgust in Alva’s voice is clear, startling you. Somehow, one small detail had escaped both you and your boyfriend this entire time: the fact that the two fairies are completely naked. Their bodies are just as undefined and nondescript as their faces and the odd light they seemed to give off acted as some sort of censor, making it difficult to tell whether or not they were wearing anything. But their reactions confirm that they, indeed, are in the nude. It makes sense, humans are the only creatures to cover themselves like this. But you’re still human and the thought of roaming naked and free in this unfamiliar landscape is uncomfortable.

“Is there a way that you could put the wings on over the clothes?” You turn to allow her to see the cringe on your cheeks. “Logically, it would make sense to keep our clothes on so that when we save your leader and return to normal size, we won’t be naked and exposed in the wilderness?” It’s phrased like a question because of the intimidating glare Alva is giving you, sucking the confidence right out of your words.

Thankfully, Laila is there to back you up. “It’s true, if they aren’t wearing their coverings when they turn back, i-it will remain our size.” Alva gives her the death glare too, but surprisingly, Laila doesn’t back down.

“Fine, but if this doesn’t work, you’re making the next pair of wings.” She points to her roommate, smoothing down your shirt to get a feel for the structure of your back before gently attaching the wings. Their attachment is joined by a ticklish sensation that makes you squirm and giggle, pulling against the small hands that attempt to hold you in place. You expected it to be painful, but the ticklish feeling fades quickly followed by nothing, your extensions successfully attached. She moves onto Jimin swiftly and you grin as the cutest giggle bubbles from his throat at the feeling. The wings really suit him, he looks like a fairy prince that has come to sweep you off your feet and fly off into the distance.

“Excellent.” Laila sighs in relief when your wings move with the motion of your shoulders, steadfast and not likely to come off. “I have prepared these for you as well.” She thrusts a bag into your hands, as well as a shiny whistle. “This Fairy Dust is essential to our mission. Fairies use it to craft things and manipulate items around them, so it is imperative that you get this to our leader to aid in her rescue and escape. This whistle is to only be used in emergencies,” Placing one in Jimin’s hands, she glares when he immediately puts it to his lips. “It will call Garnet to you in case you need a ride, but she is very busy at this time of night, so try not to use it.”

“Okay! Now we’re all set to go!” Alva rushes, practically pushing you out of her house.

Laila is the only one who has patience enough to teach you to fly, speeding through a lesson and demonstration with pressure from the other woman who looks on with annoyance. To Jimin, who is always quite graceful, flying is easy. The wings on his back move to his will and it’s as if he’s dancing in the air, lifting above you and quickly using his skills to twirl and flip. You, on the other hand, struggle immensely. As soon as your feet leave the ground, balance loses all meaning to you and you toddle unsteadily, smacking into things left and right because of the uneven flutter of your propellers. You bet you look silly right now— no, you know you do because Jimin makes sure to laugh loudly every time you struggle— but this is no time for shame. Alva concludes your lesson once it’s apparent that you won’t fall out of the sky and suggests that you’ll get the hang of it as you go, barely waiting for you before taking off from the tip of the branch.

“Now, I must warn you,” She says as you rush to keep up. “These wings do have a time limit, so it’s important that we make it to the water as fast as possible before time runs out or you’ll have to walk.”

“G-got it.” You’re still uneasy, veering off to the side occasionally and nearly smacking into Laila when the wind catches you. Just when you’re starting to get dizzy from your wacky steering, a warm hand closes around your arm. Jimin smiles at you, this time not with humor but with care, and you feel yourself relax. Pulling you closer to his body, he helps you balance in order to fly straight, offering tips and holding on tight for support. Even after you’ve gotten the hang of it, he holds your hand and stays close to you.

Traveling across the meadow takes far longer than you expected and by the time you reach the first town, you’re already tired. Alva lands several meters away from the tree line, turning abruptly to face you. “We’re about to enter the shrubs. This town is full of friendly faces so it shouldn’t be too hard to spot spies, but stay on the lookout. Laila and I have to meet up with an ally in one of the shops; once we get there, stay outside in the area and try not to look suspicious.”

“How are we supposed to do that?” Folding your arms, you wait for a response, but Alva simply shrugs and continues ahead.

“Just try not to bother anyone.” Laila says softly, avoiding your eyes as she speeds up to walk in front of you.

As soon as you enter the shrubs, hundreds of eyes zero in on the unfamiliar faces of you and Jimin. Some greet the fairies as they pass farther in front of you, but seem to burn holes in your back when you walk by, squeezing the hand of your boyfriend at the horrifying bugs that are now very close to your size. Ants and worms, caterpillars and centipedes all roam freely on the dense floor, chewing on fertile dirt and decaying leaves, carrying on with their lives all around you. None seem particularly threatening, but that doesn’t stop your hands from becoming incredibly sweaty in Jimin’s palm.

“I’ll protect you.” He whispers, though his voice shakes in uncertainty.

“How? There’s no way you can fight any of these things!” You whisper back through gritted teeth. Your eyes are so focused on trying not to lose sight of the women in front of you that you don’t notice the roots sticking up from the ground and trip noisily over one of them. Jimin reaches out with lightning fast reflexes and catches you before you come crashing to the ground, offering you a cheesy smile when your wide eyes lock on his before pulling you back up to your feet.

“I don’t need to fight them, I just need to save you from yourself.” You pout at his words, feeling your cheeks get hot at how embarrassing that fall must have looked. Even though you’re surrounded by bugs, you still have your pride.

Finally, Alva and Laila enter a shop, giving you a meaningful glance before disappearing inside. Jimin leads you just a little bit past the store before finding a spot to stand just opposite of its entrance so you can watch for their exit, pulling you against him as he leans against a mushroom. You take this time to take in your surroundings: the ceiling of this area is made of the dense leaves and vines of shrubs, yet it isn’t dark. Instead, everything is lit by glow-in-the-dark fungi that is speckled above and below you. Large mushrooms, like the one you sit beneath, grow in bundles in the darker places, their smell humid and pungent like a room full of mold. It tickles your nostrils and you sneeze, causing a movement from behind you.

“Oh!” Calls a voice that appears out of seemingly nowhere. Jimin moves you defensively away from the person, turning to confront them as they step from behind the fungus’ stem. “I wouldn’t sit under this if I were you. It’s smell can be quite intoxicating after a while and may cause hallucinations to those who aren’t used to it.” A male fairy steps forward, coated in Fairy Dust and naked just like your guides had been. The only difference is that he is covered in spores. This doesn’t seem to bother him, though. He eyes both you and Jimin up and down, smiling oddly at your appearance. “New around here?”

“Yes.” You answer hesitantly, but he seems nice enough.

“I can sense that you’re not fairies... Hmm, where are you from?” Just as you open your mouth to speak, Jimin cuts in.

“We’re just visiting. Who are you?”

“Ah, yes! I’m a mushroom fairy, the name’s Bayard.” He extends a hand and you shake it despite Jimin’s weary expression. “I work here and tend to the mushrooms that light this place. We don’t get visitors often, welcome!”

“Thank you! We’re actually heading to the water, do you have any helpful advice for us?” Alva and Laila said that this place was full of friends, so you want to take a chance. He seems kind and helpful and the two of you are absolutely clueless in your environment, so you figure it would be beneficial to get all the help you can get. The hand holding yours tightens, but you ignore it to listen to the fairy’s advice.

“Oh, I’ve never been to the water before, but I heard it’s pretty dangerous over there now. I say it’d be smart to invest in a weapon if you’re heading over that way.” He nods solemnly. “You can probably get one at the shop over there,” He points to a small stall next to the store your comrades entered and you sag.

“We don’t have any money, though.” You pout, using your charms on him.

“Money? Nah, you just need something to trade for it, that’s all. Here, since you seem so sweet I’ll give you something, wait here.” Bayard flies up to the head of the mushroom and you watch in awe as he collects something from its surface before coming back down to hand you 2 bags. “These are the hallucinogenic spores I was talking about. They’re worth a lot, so you should be able to trade it easily, but you could use it for your own benefit.”

“What do you mean?” You ask innocently, making him chuckle.

“Well, a good whiff of it might lead to a wild night, if you catch my drift.” He winks at Jimin and your face bursts into flames at the implications, and you can see that Jimin has a similar reaction. Bayard laughs heartily, clapping his hand together in a plume of spores that you wave away from your face. “I’m only pulling your leg. But seriously,” His expression drops so fast that a chill runs up your spine, all humor wiped from his eyes. “This is some powerful stuff. One bag of this is enough to knock out something 10x our size, so be careful. I gave you 2 bags in case you need to buy more stuff, but please, handle with care.”

“We will.” You nod, giving your bag for Jimin to hold. “Thank you so much, Bayard, this is very generous of you.”

He grins shyly. “Don’t mention it. If you ever need a friend, you know where to find me. Good luck on your travels, I gotta get back to work.” He waves you off as he disappears back behind the bundle of mushrooms, hidden in the deep shadows they cast.

“I think we should be more careful with who we talk to, (Y/n).” Jimin whispers, following you as you walk toward the shop. “We can’t tell everyone our business, they could be spies!”

“I know, but I could tell he wasn’t. Plus, he turned out to be really helpful, so everything worked out.”

“Yeah, but we could have just gotten lucky this time. This is real life, babe, you need to be more careful. You shouldn’t talk to everyone like that.” He argues back, tugging on your arm to stop you before you reach the stall. You turn to look him in the eyes.

“But if we didn’t talk to him, it would have been suspicious. We can’t go around looking nervous and jumpy because then people will start thinking we’re up to something (which we kinda are). I was just blending in.” The determined look in your eye makes him pause and he can no longer argue. Dammit, he’s always so weak when you look at him like that. And you’re so beautiful in this lighting, your eyes shining back at him and the structure of your face contoured perfectly with the subtle shadows. You’re right and he has no choice but to accept it, even if he does have more to say. You can see the moment he drops it, his face softening with the slight nod he gives you as if admitting defeat. But you’re also weak to him when he looks down at you like that, like he wants to kiss you senseless and make you forget about whatever you disagreed about. You decide to compromise. “But I’ll be more careful from now on to make your job a little easier.”

He cocks an eyebrow and tilts his head cutely in confusion.

“You said you would protect me, right? It would be rude of me to jump headfirst into danger when I know you’ll jump right in after me.” You try to shrug indifferently but it comes off as flirty, pulling a smug smirk from him as you continue your way to the shop.

It costs a whole bag of the spores Bayard gave you to acquire a weapon. Jimin chooses a small blade that the shopkeeper explains is made with Fairy Dust and can cut through even the toughest bindings. He advises that you should only use it for self defense in extreme situations and gives him a sheath to saddle on the belt loops of his pants. The sight perplexes the shopkeeper, but he sends you on your way without question.

“I know you said you’d be more careful, but you have a penchant for trouble so we’ll probably find ourselves in some bad situations. But at least I can protect you properly now.” You wrinkle your nose at his accusation, but end up chuckling at the way he brandishes the blade as though in a heated battle.

Alva clears her throat as she glides past the two of you with a twitch of her wings, announcing her presence subtly as Laila follows swiftly after, pointedly trying not to look at you and accidentally being the most obvious one in the group. You linger for a few more moments with an embarrassed Jimin, asking the shopkeeper one more question about your purchase before making a smooth exit in the footsteps of your comrades. You’re a good distance away from the shrubs before you begin flying again, catching up with the two who wait for you at a nearby tree.

“Oh my goodness, that was so nerve wracking.” Laila sighs, biting her lip.

“Sorry that took so long, but we got some great intel on the enemy.” Jimin reaches for your hand again when you take off even though you’re infinitely better at flying now. You act like you aren’t affected as you try to listen to Alva’s words. “We’re about to pass a carcass so we’ll need to go around, but it has a spy checkpoint on each side so we’ll have to split up when we cross them to avoid suspicion. Be on the lookout for a shady looking ant and a really chunky maggot. Laila and I will do the talking, but don’t answer any of their questions in too much detail if they ask you directly.”

The way she lists off the warnings makes you sweat. What would happen if you got caught? Yes, this was a once in a lifetime adventure, but the danger is not lost on you. Jimin is right, this is real life and you could get seriously hurt or worse if things go south. You had to rescue their leader, this had to work because she is the only one that can return you to human size, and that realization settles uncomfortably in your stomach. Separating from Jimin only makes the feeling worse.

“We’ll be traveling together,” Alva informs you once you land, instructing Laila and Jimin where to meet. Your eyebrows crease with worry and you quickly grab his arm before he leaves.

When you don’t say anything, he gives you a soft smile, reading your eyes. “What happened to all that bravery you had back there?” He teases.

“I was confident because we were together. How can we look out for each other if we’re not together?” The only thing you can think of that’s worse than you getting captured, is if he got captured without you. It’s not just about him protecting you, you want to watch over him too.

“We’ll be fine. Alva and Laila will keep us safe.” They both nod at you.

“Yes, we’ll do everything in our power to keep you two safe.” Laila adds in her timid voice, glancing up at your eyes.

“Okay...” You reluctantly let go of him and watch them start to walk away. “Please be careful!” He sends you a thumbs up as he gets farther away. The starlight above you is partially covered by the trees, making this area much darker than the meadow had been. Fireflies flicker in the distance but it still isn’t bright enough to see him clearly as he continues on.

“Come on. The faster we go through this, the sooner you’ll be reunited.” For the first time, Alva offers words of consolation, and you’re almost shocked that she has sympathy for you. She mumbles in a quieter voice than usual. “I’m not thrilled about splitting from them either, but this is the safest way. If we all went through together, that would definitely raise some red flags.”

“Why couldn’t we just follow you like we did back there?” She scoffs.

“Not many newcomers cross these parts alone. You two would never make it past the spies without being noticed. Even with us, it’s a risk. I just hope Laila’s okay.” This is the first time you’ve actually seen her worried and for the second time in a row, you’re baffled. This entire time Alva has been hardened and crude, but now she seems almost as worried as you. You can’t help but ask.

“You seem to have a soft spot for her. Do you have feelings for her?” She knows you’re teasing by the lilt in your voice, and you see her wings twitch, something you’re beginning to notice that signifies her annoyance. Her eyes roll so hard you think they’ll get stuck in her head.

“Of course I have feelings for her. In human terms, we’re dating, why do you think we live together?”

“Oh!” You chuckle nervously, feeling a bit dumb. You saw only one bed in their home but thought little of it, and now much of their decor makes sense. There’s an awkward silence for a while and you can’t for the life of you think of anything else to talk about. You wish the ground beneath you would just open up and swallow you whole. Thankfully, she breaks the silence for you.

“We learned another important detail that I didn’t mention,” She waits until you glance over at her. “We found out that the stink bug king plans to marry our leader, so it would probably be smart for you to come up with a plan to intercept this.” You sigh in thought, turning your gears to come up with a plan.

The smell of the carcass is much worse than Jimin imagined, it hits them long before they reach the body. Laila leads him to the right side of the unidentifiable animal, a heap of fur, bones, and flesh in the middle stages of decomposition thanks to the abundance of bugs and fungi working diligently to break it down. They stop before the animal as Laila crafts 2 masks from her own bag of Fairy Dust, handing one to him to reduce the horrific smell as they trek on. He tries to ignore the sounds of the ecosystem feasting on its prey, and thankfully his partner offers a distraction.

“I know you’re worried about your girlfriend, but Alva will protect her. And I will protect you.” He notices that she easily makes eye contact with him, unlike before. “Stink bugs aren’t vicious, they’re just resilient and armored, making them tough to beat. But hopefully we won’t have to fight.”

“I know she’ll be alright, I have faith in her. She probably won’t get caught by the spy, she’s too smart for that.” His words are genuine, yet his heart still races at the possibilities. A darkness eclipses his face that she catches onto immediately.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice is so gentle that he has no problem opening up to her.

“If she gets captured or hurt it’ll be my fault. I brought her out to the meadow to have a romantic date, but instead it ended up putting her in danger. We should have stayed at the campsite.”

“No.” Laila says firmly, causing him to yank his head up in surprise. “If anything, this is my fault. I chose you because you were the only ones around that could help us, but I could have left you alone. If anything happens, I am to blame.” He says nothing to this, not quite accepting it, but she seems steadfast so he won’t argue. “I apologize for not asking sooner, but what is your name?”

“Jimin.”

“And what is hers?”

“(Y/n)~” He says your name almost dreamily compared to his own, a smile subconsciously finding its way to his lips. She grins.

“Do you love her?” Laila doesn’t seem to be the blunt type, but this is obviously amusing. Especially with the way his ears color red at that one question.

“I- I don’t know if I know what love is,” is his response.

“I think you do. I see how you look at her, how you smile when you think of her, the way that you say her name with such delicacy; I bet you don’t even realize how lovestruck you look when she’s around.” Jimin turns away from her to avoid her eyes, bringing a hand to his warming cheeks. He mumbles something under his breath. “I know because that’s how I am with Alva and I love her very much.”

“Alva? Wait, are you-?”

“Yes, she is my girlfriend.” The confirmation makes his jaw drop, some pieces falling together just as they had for you. “Never be embarrassed by your feelings, they can be a source of power at times like these. It is because you love her so much that I know you’d do anything to keep her safe, and I have no doubt that she is exactly the same way. This mission will be a success, I can feel it. You should tell her how you really feel when this is all over.”

“Oh... I don’t know about that. What if she doesn’t feel the same way...”

“She’s intelligent, compassionate, outgoing, brave, charming, and above that, so beautiful that everyone around takes notice— a woman like that can be pretty intimidating. But trust me, she loves you too. Though I haven’t known you two for long, I can see how her body language changes with you, that sparkle in her eyes whenever you interact. She’s just as lovesick for you as you are for her. But I won’t pressure you.”

Laila is a lot wiser and more perceptive than he originally expected. She hadn’t looked you in the eye much— which he now knows is because you intimidate her more than her own intense girlfriend does— but it seems she’s picked up on a lot about both of you in this short time. Maybe her observations are right and you do love him back. But this feels like an inappropriate time to confess to you, so he decides he’ll keep it in for now.

As he’s ruminating on that idea, a huge tan bug crawls in front of them, blocking their path with its large body. Upon closer inspection, Jimin comes to the conclusion that it is a maggot, and it is indeed very “chunky”. It’s at least 3x his size, towering over them and angling it’s head in their direction. He can’t see its eyes, but it apparently can see them, turning its attention to Laila.

“It’s been a while, Laila. Haven’t seen you around these parts lately.” The breath that billows out from its mouth is even more rancid than the corpse it was feasting on, the stench so pointed that it slices through the barrier of their masks. It almost brings tears to Jimin’s eyes as he tries to refrain from gagging.

“Yes, well, I’ve been busy in the meadow, so I haven’t had the time to come out this far.” She replies easily, not the slightest quiver in her voice present. The maggot hums.

“And who is this?” Turning to face Jimin, it gives an interested tilt of the head and leans in closer, its pincers coming just inches away from his face. The smell is vile, beyond sickening, and if it were to have a color, he’s sure it’s breath would be the most impure black sludge— yes, sludge, because it is too thick to be a gas— imaginable. As black as death itself. The most he can do is hold his breath.

“He is simply visiting the area. We’re just passing through.” Laila answers, but it hisses at her to hush.

“Visiting? What business do you have visiting here?” The hairs on the back of Jimin’s neck stand straight, every cell in his body telling him to run, yet he stands frozen. The pincers in front of his face are large enough to bite his head off and he gets the sense that if he doesn’t say something convincing, that’s exactly what his fate will be.

“I’m visiting my cousin.” He rasps out, his head feeling light from running out of air.

“What cousin?”

“Um, h-his name is Bayard. He’s a mushroom fairy that lives in the shrubs.” At this the maggot leans away, finally allowing Jimin to take a breath of the slightly less offensive air.

“Bayard, huh?” He nods quickly, watching nervously as the insect snaps its jaws in thought. Does it know him? If it does, there’s a chance that Jimin will be caught in his lie, that somehow it will know that Bayard does not have any visiting relatives and that he’s not who he says he is. He and Laila share a tense stare as the bug takes a few seconds to process before it bursts into laughter. “He’s a crazy bastard, isn’t he?” They sigh in relief and Jimin nods along, forcing out a laugh. “Why isn’t he showing you around? I would’ve loved if he came to visit, I don’t get to see him often.”

“Oh you know, he’s busy working. You know how he is about his mushrooms.” They laugh again and the air seems to get a bit thinner.

“Ah, well, we’ll tell him you said hello. For now, though, we must get going.” Laila interrupts, much to his relief. The hefty maggot walks forward, opening the path for them once again and nods its head at them.

“Safe travels!” It wishes them well as they pass, watching as they continue around the side of the carcass, no longer conversing with each other but making headway straight out of the area. It isn’t until they reach the rendezvous point that Laila finds the courage to speak again, holding both hands over her chest as if she were in pain.

“That was close. If it wasn’t for your quick thinking, I don’t know what would’ve happened.” Then she tilts her head and looks up at him quizzically. “How do you know of Bayard, anyway?”

“(Y/n) befriended him in the last town.” Jimin rubs the back of his neck, thinking back to how upset he was about you speaking to strangers like that and how silly he looks now. Without you, he wouldn’t have made it out of that situation. Maybe he should have more faith in your instincts— they may just be your way of protecting him.

It takes several minutes before you and Alva emerge from your side of the animal. Alva is nodding at you, looking apprehensive, but you seem determined and sure.

“Let’s not tell Jimin, though. He probably won’t approve.” You whisper to her just out of earshot before you reach them, smiling in relief when you see that they made it here safely. You didn’t encounter your spy, though you did see him interrogating someone else who was passing through, and when you tell him this he shakes his head at the rare good luck you’ve just experienced. He tells you about the Bayard lie as you wrap your arms around him briefly and you laugh in a way that says “I told you so”— and it is then that he notices the look that Laila was talking about. The one you give him when you’re hanging onto every word he says like it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever heard. His heart flutters at the thought. Laila and Alva share a meaningful look but say nothing, coaxing you onward with your journey.

This place has a worse atmosphere than the carcass you just passed, you can feel it. Supposedly, this is the last obstacle in your path before you reach the water, and even Alva seems on edge about what lies ahead. A fallen log stands before you, decaying and riddled with plant-life, fungus, and insects. Hostility leaks from every crevice of the black wood, the breeze itself seeming to carry a sneer as it blows past it.

“Okay, a word of advice before we continue,” Alva begins, slowing her pace in order to turn and face you as you fly. “Unlike the shrubs, this place is full of shady characters, so do not stop to talk to anyone or anything. That being said, keep your eyes peeled as we pass through, the creatures here will feast on anything that moves— and that includes you.”

“Also,” Laila casts her eyes down away from you. “Your wings will likely start to disintegrate soon. We’ll have to fly through this area because we’ll be too slow on foot, therefore putting us in more danger. The wings should last long enough to make it out of here if we fly, but it will be close, so we can’t have any interruptions or stops.” You both nod grimly, biting on your lip as a dark feeling swells within you.

It’s a gut feeling that alerts you to the danger up ahead, and you mindlessly reach for Jimin’s hand for comfort. He doesn’t seem to be as nervous aside from the warnings the two of them explain, and you wonder if you’re being paranoid.

“Why can’t we just fly over or around it?” You ask, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. Alva gives you a frustrated sigh before explaining once again how closely the skies are monitored, going against your plan to slip through undetected. But you can hardly say that this route is any safer.

It’ll be easy to stay out of trouble if you just stay off the ground though, right? Fly over the heads of everyone and make it out of this area before any real damage can be done. You cling onto that ideal as you watch Laila and Alva enter the center of the log, moving slowly until you and Jimin follow behind them.

“Please stay close to me.” You whisper to him— more like a plea because of the growing anxiety building in the pit of your stomach, your gut feeling worsening as you near the entrance.

“I will. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you.” Softly, he presses a kiss to your forehead, but even that doesn’t help you shake this feeling.

It’s dark and muggy within the rotting wood, the lack of light contrasting even with the dimness of the night sky. Glowing fungi are speckled against the walls of the log, but it is nowhere near as bright as it had been in the shrubs, leaving many areas cloaked in shadows. Jimin holds onto you tightly, his other hand feeling for the blade equipped to his pants. Your nervousness is unsettling; he can feel how cold and clammy your hands have become, the slight tremor of your body as your heart races within. He wishes he could reassure you, but you have amazing instincts and he doubts anything he says could contest against the physical reaction you’re exhibiting at this moment. All he can do is prepare himself.

The fairies in front of you seem to shine against the blackness, making them easy to follow. You execute your plan for flying as high as possible in the somewhat cramped tunnel, almost scraping your head against the ceiling in your effort to avoid the crude faces that crawl underneath. Insects hide in the crevices of the jagged walls, disturbed and squirming as you whoosh past their lairs. Something about them makes you think they’re blind, but you wouldn’t know for sure since you won’t give yourself enough time to inspect them.

Something brushes your arm when the tunnel narrows, causing you to gasp and jerk embarrassingly only to realize that it was just soft moss. You give a sheepish look to Jimin when he turns to you. “Sorry, I’m a little jumpy.” So far, you haven’t encountered anything of noteworthy danger and you’re almost halfway through the log, and you start to think that maybe you were just being paranoid.

As you move along, the wood gets denser and the pathways become smaller, only allowing one person at a time. Laila’s wings are still visible due to the waning light, but you’ll have to fly faster if you want to keep an eye on them, so Jimin flies ahead of you since he’s generally faster and better at flying than you. Reluctantly, you release his hand and follow close behind, blind to what lies in front of you and solely relying on him to guide you forward.

“You okay?” He asks quietly, unable to turn and look at you.

“Yeah, keep going.” Is your quiet response, trailing right on his heels. “Can you still see them?”

“Just barely. Let’s try to go a little faster, I don’t think our wings will last too much longer.” Jimin can sense how his body seems to feel heavier on his wings. The transparent material of them is getting thinner and he isn’t sure how much longer they’ll be able to hold him up before they become unusable.

“Okay, I can keep up.” Picking up the pace, you start to feel less weary of the life around you. Nothing seems interested in your presence as you float by and that’s exactly how you like it.

The path opens up into a hollow section, allowing you more space, and you shift to the left of Jimin in order to see around him briefly. You intended to catch a glimpse of your guides, laser focusing your eyes in front of you so intensely that your surroundings are forgotten. Jimin remains in your peripheral as you squint through the darkness, but in an instant, he zips by and leaves you behind. Confused, you turn around to see if you got snagged on something and find yourself losing your balance and landing on something sticky. Long threads form a net around you and it dawns on you that they are the cause of your immobility— so naturally, you try to shake free from them, only to find that the more you struggle, the more parts of you become stuck. You barely have any time to process what this could possibly mean before several long legs emerge from the corner of your eye.

“It looks like there’s light up ahead. We’re almost out, (Y/n)!” Jimin smiles in relief, eyes still watching for the pair of wings that flutter several centimeters ahead. But when you don’t respond, his eyebrows crease. “(Y/n)?” Before he can even turn around, a blood curdling scream rips through his ears, the voice sounding alarmingly similar to yours. He spins around and immediately notices that you are no longer right behind him. How long have you been gone?! He races backwards toward the source of the scream, fear and worry bubbling in his chest with every second it takes to reach you as you let out another deafening scream.

The first thing he sees is the underside of an enormous body with 8 hairy legs protruding menacingly from its center. They splay out methodically to walk the thin cords beneath it with the expertise of a tight rope walker, graceful, long, and elegant in the most wretched way. Next, he spots you, placed in the center of its legs, completely caged in and frozen by the sheer size of the arachnid above you and shaking in terror. Jimin’s eyes drag up to find 8 odd black orbs locked on yours, sitting just above open jaws aimed directly at you. Before he can even stop himself, he’s calling out your name.

“(Y/n)!” It’s more of a reaction of surprise, but it catches the attention of the spider, who looks up from its prey with glazed eyes. But he is not the one that’s caught in its web, so it quickly returns its interest to you.

“Jimin?!” You cry out with an unsteady voice.

“I’m here, baby! Just stay calm.”

“How?!” You can’t see him because of how your back is facing his direction, but you can hear how panicked he sounds. He knows that spiders are your weakness. You suffer from mild arachnophobia and he’s sure that encountering a spider that is many times larger than you and moments away from eating you is intensifying that fear unimaginably. He has to think fast.

The first thing he can think of is to distract it, so he breaks off a piece of wood and taps it to the web, sending vibrations that catch the attention of the previously uninterested insect. It glances over with curiosity before making its way to the other side of the web to inspect the swinging wood chip that is now attached to the threads on one end. Taking this opportunity, Jimin runs over to you and pulls out his knife, praying to everything that it is holy that it really can cut anything. If this fails, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He tries to break one of the threads with a quick slice, but when he brings the knife down, it promptly bounces off as though he had hit a steel wire, instead sending more vibrations that bring the spider back over to you. It hisses loudly, likely upset that he’s trying to steal its dinner, and it lunges at him with its fangs, barely missing him through the web. He falls backwards, but catches himself with his wings unsteadily.

He tries the same method again and again, shaking the already stuck stick to lure the spider over, then swinging his blade at the thick bindings that refuse to release you, to no avail.

“It’s not working! And I don’t have enough time to break the web because of the spider!” He’s clearly distressed, using all his force to push down and break the web that has the integrity of metal. Spider webs break easily to a human, but it’s an entirely different monster when you’re this small. This knife, this stupid knife that cost him an entire bag of spores is doing absolutely nothing, and his frustration grows with each slice.

Wait, that’s it!

“Jimin, the spores! Do you still have them?” The words come out hurried and jumbled, but miraculously he understands.

“Yeah, why?” He looks up at you, but swiftly jumps out of the way when the spider returns. This time it won’t leave you, guarding your body from the intruder, repeatedly striking and hissing at him to leave. The wings that hold Jimin up are weakening, he has to hurry or he won’t be able to reach you from the ground.

“Throw them on the spider! Bayard said that one bag is enough to ‘knock out something 10x our size’, you can use it to buy time and cut me out!” As you’re explaining, Jimin reaches for the pouch in his pocket, opening it to look at the small particles piled up inside. He isn’t sure if it’ll work as well as you hope but he has to try, so with only a second of hesitation, he looks back up at the colossus on top of you.

“Hold your breath.” Once he hears you inhale, the bag of spores is flung straight into the face of the spider, some getting in its mouth, most of it landing on and around its head, caught in the hairs that line its body. Your eyes close as they float around you, but you can feel how the spider stumbles back in shock, trying to shake the particles from itself. Jimin immediately gets to work with the knife, trying a sawing approach this time with every bit of hope poured into his efforts. Thankfully, the string breaks with just 2 back and forth motions, loosening the integrity of the web just the slightest bit. He works fast, snapping each connection around you until you’re falling backwards into his arms and away from the staggering monster.

He grabs your arm and pulls you along as you attempt to gather yourself, flying as best you can with the few unbroken strands still stuck to your wings, but you won’t let that stop you now.

“We’re not gonna make it, our wings are-“ You try to say, but Jimin cuts you off.

“There’s light up ahead, we just have to make it there.” Fairy Dust has begun to fall from both of your wings, leaving a shimmering trail behind you as you push them to their limit. They can barely carry you an inch off the ground now, but that’s all you need as long as you make it to the light. But of course, it’s never that easy. As if on cue, the spider comes barreling through the log from behind, its eyes crossed and confused as it swerves up the sides of the tunnel in pursuit of you, its legs scraping the dead wood and causing crackling and falling pieces avalanching down.

You scream, pushing yourself even harder to escape your doom, ducking under protruding chunks and narrow openings desperately. You know the feeling when something’s chasing you and you feel like it’s just a step away at all times just teasing you, waiting to grab you, and you can swear you feel them breathing down your neck no matter how far back they are? Yeah, this is one of those situations. Except the spider actually is just a step away, and the only reason it hasn’t caught you yet is because of the spores in its lungs. It lunges forward aggressively, just barely missing you and grazing the side of your right arm— had its aim been any better, you surely would be dead. It hallucinates several versions of you flying before its eyes, your screams echoing off the walls and damaging its overwhelmed senses. It stumbles, using its front leg to reach for you and barely missing your side with the razor edge of its claws, a feature you hadn’t known existed until now. But the claws are very real and your torn shirt is proof.

The light that Jimin was talking about suddenly emerges, the dim starlight seeming as bright as the sun compared to the dark that engulfed you within this black wood, and for a moment, hope sparks in your chest. But your heart drops to your stomach when both of you suddenly fall to the floor, your wings finally giving out as they continue to disappear. You scramble to your feet and take the lead, glancing back at the spider that is squeezing his way through the tiny opening you and Jimin managed to slip through, spitting foul noises at you out of rage.

“Up here!” Shelf fungi line the walls, creating a convenient ladder up to the top of the log that you climb, finding strength you never knew you had to pull yourself up each one. Jimin is close behind, pushing at your feet when you struggle near the top, but his eyes widen at the sight of the spider with half of its body through the opening, its legs flailing and scratching to pull itself through. The mushrooms end just a body length from the ledge of the log, your freedom just fingertips away, but you can’t reach from your height and you don’t have the strength to pull yourself all the way up.

Jimin nudges you out of the way, the adrenaline pumping wildly through his veins allowing him to jump up and grab hold of the ledge and pull himself up, disappearing on the other side; and for a moment you fear that he’ll leave you here. You gasp when your eyes meet the dizzy ones of your pursuer, it’s body nearly free, and panic rises within you like never before.

“(Y/n)!” Jimin calls, and you look up to find his hands reaching down to grab you, his hair and the top of his forehead the only thing visible. Without wasting another second, you jump up and grab his hands, and with strained grunts, he helps pull you up to his level on the outside of that Hell. “Where do we go now?”

You’re high up, really high, and it’s a long way down without your wings. Honestly, you hadn’t thought this far, but now isn’t the time to stop and think, not when you hear the sound of splintering wood and hissing beneath you. Jimin follows as you run forward, looking to the end of the timber suspiciously.

“(Y/n), what’s your plan here?!” The edge is nearing alarmingly fast and it looks to him like you intend to run right off the side. He wishes he could say that he was thinking of a plan too, but his mind becomes blank with terror the moment the spider re-emerges from the opening. It takes a few seconds to find you before chasing, its speed significantly slower now thanks to the spores, but it is enough to drive you forward with no hope of turning back. Leaving the only option to jump off the side. But you couldn’t be thinking that, there’s no way, because from this height you’d both break your legs from the landing, at best.

“Do you trust me?” You ask, your eyes determined. You can’t be thinking what he thinks you are. But despite his worries, he answers without hesitation.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” You pull out the whistle stored away in your pocket and blow, the noise barely audible over the bustle of the night. You blow into it again, this time longer, but nothing happens and the ledge is right in front of you. The skies are empty, few bugs crossing your paths as you come to a stop and look around, the creaking wood below your feet mocking you as you stand still. “Are you sure you trust me?” Jimin nods. “We need to jump.”

“Jump?!” He’s not sure he heard you right. But then again, what choice does he have? The spider seems drunk behind you, clumsily galloping toward you with eyes that look through you, and if it doesn’t eat you it’ll surely smack directly into you and push you off the cliff, spelling your doom either way. Jimin watches as you blow the whistle again and step closer to the edge, looking down at the drop with that determined look he’s seen so many times. You’re serious. But you haven’t been wrong yet, so with a deep breath, he steps up next to you. “I trust you.”

He doesn’t say this with a tone that holds doubt, it's a definitive statement. And that makes you smile. Even if you are leading him to your deaths, you know Jimin has his full faith in you, so you take his hand and pray that this works. On your count, you both jump, your lips on the whistle that you continue to blow. As air rushes past your face, you squeeze Jimin’s hand and search your surroundings during the slowest, most uncertain seconds of your life.

Suddenly, a flash of green and red appears with lightning speed and before you know it, you’re landing on the hard back of the creature with a force strong enough to drop her a couple of inches and rip your hand out of Jimin’s. He lands straight in the center of Garnet’s back, but you skid off the side, grabbing at the smooth surface of her body helplessly. But Jimin has quick reflexes and latches onto your arm, using his strength for the second time to pull you onto Garnet’s back. You secure your arms around him tightly as he holds the reins and tells her to take you to Alva and Laila, who are probably already out of the log and waiting for you. Hopefully she can understand what he’s asked. Looking up, you catch sight of the spider just as it careens off the edge of the wood, following you blindly with now uncontrolled limbs and foggy eyes, it’s body narrowly missing you as it falls all the way to the ground, crumpled into an unconscious heap. That uneasy feeling in your stomach almost immediately subsides, and you tighten your arms around your boyfriend with a sigh of relief, burying your face in his shoulder and breathing in his scent to calm your pounding heart.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt at all?” His worry is heavy and it warms you.

“I’m fine, just a little shaken up.” It’s probably just the shock, but you feel oddly at ease. You know that later— maybe tomorrow— you’ll be freaking out about your worst nightmare nearly coming true if it weren’t for Jimin. “Thank you for saving me.”

Your surroundings are serene, the night air warm and soothing. The landscape is pretty from this perspective. Full of hidden terrors and thrills, everything looking so peaceful despite you nearly losing your life moments ago.

“I said I would protect you.” He smiles cockily, and you giggle into his shirt. “But seriously, you did most of the work. We make a great team; let’s keep working together.” If Jimin was being honest, he doesn’t think he’d be able to save you if it wasn’t for your quick wit. His brain is no good in times of trial, he freezes up mentally, and though he jumps into action without a second thought, he rarely has the capacity to come up with an effective plan. You are certainly the brains of the operation, and the more he thinks about it, the more attractive your intelligence becomes. He wouldn’t want to be in this situation with anyone else in the world, and he means that with his whole heart.

When Garnet lands, Laila runs over to you, helping you and Jimin off her back with care and concern. She looks you over, gasping at the tear in your shirt. “What happened?! You disappeared toward the end and we heard screams, but Alva said we couldn’t go back. I was so worried for you! Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

You explain what happened bashfully, feeling embarrassed that you were the one to screw up the plan, but neither of the fairies seem upset by it.

“We’re just glad you made it out alright.” Alva reassures in a rare moment of sentiment.  “Do you still have the Fairy Dust?”

Thankfully, the bag remains untouched and secure around your waist. You weren’t thinking about it during that near death experience, but you’re glad that it wasn’t lost in all the action. After Laila takes the time to physically examine you to make sure you actually weren’t hurt, they lead you ahead to the last leg of your journey.

Though they had talked at length about the stink bugs’ fortress, you were completely unprepared by the sheer number of bugs that were involved. You were forced to go the rest of the way on foot and had the chance to see the change in landscape that came as you neared the water. Where you would expect luscious plant growth you were instead met with hole riddled leaves and weeds, plants wilting with eaten roots, and scarred fruit littering the area, much different from the land closer to the meadow. Laila explains that these bugs are rapidly expanding their feeding grounds and will soon take over this side of the stream, and the thought sends a chill up your spine. But it isn’t until the water is in sight that you see the perpetrators of all this damage.

It’s almost like a swarm of bugs appears out of thin air once you cross a certain threshold, all of them crawling from under rocks and holes in the ground, flying up from plants where they were once hidden, and disgusted chills overcome you again at the sight of them. Jimin steps closer to you, putting an arm out in front of your body protectively when they form a wall in front of the 4 of you.

Laila steps forward, walking up to meet one bug that stands in the center of them all. She communicates with it for a few seconds, again amazing you with her lingual skills, and when she’s done, it turns away and flies in the opposite direction, leaving its army to stand guard. You don’t know what she said, or what is even happening right now as you seem to be standing in a stalemate, so you decide to ask.

“Was that the leader?” You whisper, as if speaking any louder would break the tension and prompt fighting with the soldiers ahead of you.

“No,” Alva answers, looking at her girlfriend’s back as she stands strong. “That’s only a messenger. I think she has asked to speak directly to the leader and the messenger agreed.”

“You think?” Jimin questions, tilting his head.

“Yeah, Alva, why don’t you know how to speak to bugs? Isn’t that a power you fairies have?” You join, blinking at her innocently.

“No it’s not some inherent power all fairies have, it’s a skill. A skill that I do not possess.”

“Well why not? I think it would be useful to learn.” You nod in agreement to Jimin’s words.

“Laila could probably teach you! Hey, babe, did you know they’re dating?” You ask excitedly, ignoring the winged woman to converse with your own significant other, but she cuts in quickly.

“This isn’t about me!” Her wings flick and you both stop talking, wordlessly returning your attention to the front where the bug returns with another creature in tow.

“Why the long look, Laila? Aren’t you glad to see me?” The voice of a man cuts through the air and you look up to find a thin fairy fluttering toward you, landing a few steps away from your comrade as she glares intensely at him. He’s colored brown similarly to the bugs he commands, but he is so twig-like that you could mistake him for a stick insect with wings. His features are as undefined as every other fairy you’ve encountered so far, but you can still tell he’s grinning by the way he opens his arms merrily.

“That’s their leader?” You whisper to your boyfriend, who looks on with the same shocked expression you wear.

“I have no desire to see your face.” Laila spits, shocking you even further. “You kidnapped Nissa, you do not deserve my kindness.”

“Is that so?” His arms drop to his sides. “Then, what brings you here, oh fair and beautiful warrior?” She visibly cringes at his words, Alva also wrinkling her face at his unwanted compliments.

“We’ve come to negotiate for our leader,” Alva speaks up, stepping closer to him to draw his attention. He scoffs, saying something about the two women not being allowed into his territory in order to negotiate, but she stands firm. “That is why we have brought ambassadors with us this time; surely, they are not banned as well?” His eyes then shift to yours, squinting at you and Jimin with a perplexed look. It’s probably the clothes that are throwing him off, you think.

“And what have they come to offer me? Will my sweet Laila finally trade herself in for her leader and become my bride?” A goofy smile crosses his lips, but it’s quickly wiped away with your next words.

“No, I will. I’ll become your bride in exchange for their leader.”

“What?” Jimin turns to you so fast that you think he’ll give himself whiplash, staring at you in disbelief. He must have heard you incorrectly, why would you say something like that? Placing his hands on your shoulders, he turns you to look at him, checking your face for any hints of a lie. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am serious, Jimin.” You say, looking back at his eyes. “If I offer myself to him, then Nissa will be free to go and there’s a chance for this place to be saved.”

“Yeah, but... we’re not even fairies. We don’t belong here. Why would you trade your own freedom for them?”

“Just because we aren’t one of them, doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do everything in our power to help them. Their situation is hopeless without us, I can’t just sit here and let them suffer— not when I can do something about it.” It’s not that Jimin didn’t want to help them, it’s just that he’s not willing to give you up in exchange. And yes, all of your plans have worked so far, but this is going a little overboard.

“I want to help them too, but isn’t there another way?”

“This is the best way.” You say resolutely.

“But I can’t let you, (Y/n)! I can’t let you live with bugs for the rest of your life. Forget that, I can’t let you marry anyone else! I want to be the one you spend the rest of your life with— I love you! And I’m not willing to give you up for anything.” Your heart skips at his confession, your resolve wavering for a second. He’s never said anything like that to you before and it almost makes you dizzy with emotion. “I said I would keep you safe through all of this, and if we learned anything throughout this experience it’s that we need to work as a team, so it would be irresponsible of me to let you go through with this. Don’t forget, this is real life, no matter how surreal it seems, and you have a life to go back to after this.” His eyes are pleading, but you’ve already decided on this.

“You said you trusted me.” You say quietly, lip in a straight line.

“I do, but-“

“Do you trust me?” You ask again, his mouth left open with unspoken words. He takes a moment to answer, dropping his head.

“Yes.”

“Then trust that I know what I’m doing. We’re still a team, babe, I can’t do this without you. Go save their leader and trust that I’ll be okay. I have a feeling that everything will turn out well in the end.” Though his heart is hurting, Jimin let’s go of your shoulders, frowning deeply with conflicting emotions swimming in his eyes. For who?, he wants to ask, but he can’t say anything more.

“Now that I look at you, you are quite pretty.” The fairy walks up to you, bowing and kissing your hand. “Hello, I’m Hix. And you are?”

“(Y/n).” You reply simply, his lips feeling ticklish on your hand like when the wings were being attached to your back.

“And what are you, exactly?” He directs the question to both you and Jimin, but Laila answers.

“Humans. From a distant land.” Her arms are crossed and she’s still giving him the most disgusted look possible, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“I’ve never seen a human before... they must be rare. Esteemed much higher than a fairy leader.” Hix thinks aloud, a finger on his chin. After a few seconds of deliberation, he comes to the conclusion that this is a worthy trade. “Come with me. We can discuss this further once we’re inside.”

“What about him?” You point to Jimin and Hix pauses, raising an eyebrow.

“What about him?” He asks incredulously.

“He should come with us. He’s my... assistant.” You say slowly, hoping the excuse works. None of this matters if Jimin isn’t welcome in the fortress with you. Hix accepts with little thought, leading you away with a short farewell to your fairy accomplices, but Alva pulls Jimin aside as he passes her.

“Don’t worry, (Y/n)’s a smart girl and she can talk her way out of almost anything. She has a plan, just make sure you get Nissa out of there.” She leaves him with that as he follows you through the army of stink bugs, each of them dispersing once you reach the fortress.

His home is nothing to brag about, it doesn’t come close to the innovation and beauty of Laila and Alva’s place, but it is structurally sound and complex, so it has a few things going for it. It’s colors are of mud and dead plants, it’s foundations rooted in the bleak gray of smooth stones, and you find it to be quite depressing.

“Do you live here alone?” You ask. You can’t imagine staying in a place like this all by yourself. Maybe that’s why he’s so desperate to find a wife.

“Yes. I also built this place by myself, so it’s very personal.” The smile on his face is proud and your eyebrows scrunch in sympathy. He leads you two to a wide room before he remembers that Jimin is with you, turning abruptly to face him.

“You may leave us now, assistant.” He commands rudely, and you reach for Jimin’s hand just as he makes his exit.

“Here. Take this to her.” You whisper, slipping the bag of Fairy Dust to him discreetly. Of course, he’s reluctant to leave you alone with this strange fairy, but you seem confident so he’ll do his best for you. Since there is no one else around, not even guard bugs, he is free to roam the fortress, and he enters a hallway to begin the search for Nissa.

The building is much more complex than he expected. The hallways wind and most lead to dead ends, leaving him confused in a maze of empty, doorless rooms. Jimin finds that the fortress isn’t completely deserted, there were a few close calls with some bugs that were monitoring certain hallways, but after searching surrounding areas he comes to the conclusion that they must be guarding something important.

Maybe I can just walk past them? He thinks, biting his plush bottom lip as he spies on the occupied corridor from around the corner. He is a guest here after all. But what would he do if they questioned him, or worse, what if they attacked? Since he knows none of their language and he isn’t sure they can understand him, he goes with a stealth tactic.

Shimmying along the brown walls, Jimin moves as slowly as possible so as not to draw any attention to himself. There’s another turn up ahead, just before the entry way that the insects keep watch over, and the plan is to slip into it and cause a distraction in the opposite direction to get them to walk away. He thinks he’s seen that in a movie somewhere, but he’s praying it’ll work in real life. The halls are wide to accommodate the girth of the shelled backs of Hix’s soldiers and Jimin feels exposed, inching his way toward the opening and hoping they don’t spot him. Of course, the bugs are low to the ground, crawling around on all fours which would make his feet very easy to spot from their vantage point, but they appear to be talking with one another, their heads so small compared to their bodies that he can’t even see their mouths. They probably wouldn’t be able to do much if they did decide to attack, but he wouldn’t risk it to find out. He continues at his painstaking pace noiselessly, holding his breath to make 2 bold leaps into the opening, so close to them that the breeze from his motion causes them to look up.

They make a noise but make no attempts to investigate, and after a few silent seconds, Jimin throws out his distraction. The only thing he has on him is the whistle Laila gave him and the bag of Fairy Dust, so he fishes the small shiny tool out of his pocket and holds it in his palm, hoping dearly that he won’t need it in the future. He isn’t even sure Nissa is behind this door, so losing important items could be costly, but he has to trust himself. You’re counting on him after all. And you’d probably come up with a silly plan like this if you were in his situation too. He tries to have a little more faith. With 2 short deep breaths, Jimin gathers his courage and throws the whistle down the hall, snatching his head back behind the cover and closing his eyes when it clinks loudly against the dry walls. Now he’s caught—he’s sure— because they have to walk right past him to reach the noise and he tenses in preparation.

But miraculously, the plan works!

The pair of stink bugs crawl swiftly to the end of the corridor, giving him the perfect opportunity to slip into the now unguarded room. Upon entering, he sees what appears to be a normal bedroom, decorated nicely with windows that overlook the water and furniture that would make for comfortable living. But oddly, the room is unoccupied. Surely this would be where Hix would keep the fairy leader, unless this is his personal bedroom and he just has very feminine taste. But she’s nowhere to be found and disappointment curls around the pit of Jimin’s stomach. As a last effort, he calls out her name, wondering if she would be hiding somewhere.

“Nissa?” A few seconds go by and nothing happens, but just as he turns to leave, motion in the corner of the room startles him. Seeming to peel right from the wall itself is a figure, invisible at first glance, but slowly morphing into a distinguished body right before his eyes. Nissa changes color as she walks up to him, eying him suspiciously with every tentative step.

“Who are you?” Her voice is high but strong, her stance so intimidating that Jimin feels as though she were here to rescue him and not the other way around. She is most definitely a warrior.

“Uhm,” He clears his throat when his voice threatens to crack. “Alva and Laila sent me and my girlfriend here to help you escape. I-if you want to.”

She lets out a hearty laugh at that, her defensive posture slacking into something more relaxed and casual, and subconsciously Jimin’s body does the same. “I’ve been planning an escape for days, I can’t wait to get out of this place.” He wants to say something else, but instead he just stands awkwardly for a few seconds. Clearly, he isn’t as good with people as you are. “So, you’re human?”

“Yes.” He tilts his head at her and she grins.

“Laila must have done a pretty good job with the spell if you’re still in one piece.” His eyes widen as she walks past him, looking through the opening of the doorway.

“Why haven’t you escaped yet? The door’s wide open.” Actually there’s no door, but those are technicalities. He watches with interest as she presses her hand to the thin air, pulling it back sharply as though she had been shocked. But he’d just entered through there, there’s no way it could be sealed off.

“Hix sealed this room with magic. Don’t worry, though, it only works on fairies so you shouldn’t be affected by the barrier. My plan was to make the room look empty so he’d think I had already escaped, then to leave once he broke the barrier; but since you’re here I can use a different strategy.” Nissa turns to Jimin abruptly, her smooth features glowing brighter with an idea. “I need materials. Can you get them for me?”

“Oh, that reminds me!” Jimin gives her the bag of Fairy Dust that he had nearly forgotten about, and the relief on her face is clear once it’s in her possession. She thanks him, thinking quickly before nodding her head.

“Okay. I need a leaf and some wood. There should be a stash of leaves somewhere on the other side of this fortress and twigs scattered outside.” Just as Jimin goes to step out of the door, the guards return, stopping in front of the doorway without even glancing inside. He ducks behind the wall just to be sure, he and Nissa sharing a brief wide-eyed look. She grabs his wrist and wordlessly pulls him to the far side of the room, opening the bag of Fairy Dust he had just given her and pulling out a fist full. Jimin watches with fascination as she manipulates it between her hands, the consistency changing right before his eyes as she displays her mastery with the medium. Soon, it’s worked into a thin film and before he can react, she holds up her palms to him and blows into it like a bubble, the film stretching over his body from head to toe until he’s completely covered. Nissa pinches off the bubble, but it doesn’t pop. Instead, it tightens around him like a second skin, leaving him glistening and shiny with the odd texture of the material. “There.” She says proudly, grinning when he gives a ticklish shiver.

“What is this?” From what he can tell, nothing has changed except for the fact that he looks like he's wrapped in plastic.

“I just made you invisible. Now, you can leave without being noticed,” She explains, turning and pushing him toward the door. “They won’t be able to see what you’re holding when you’re like this, but they can still hear you, so be as quiet as possible. Now go, time is of the essence!”

Ever so carefully, Jimin steps out of the room and around the bugs. He presses himself to the wall, hoping that he doesn’t accidentally touch one of them or make a noise— he’s known to be pretty clumsy, so he needs to be extra careful. The hallways are fairly clear, he has an easy time making it to the other side of the fortress and gathering a leaf from what looks to be a break room of sorts. Next is the wood, and his plan is to slip outside, but just as he is passing by the large room that you’re in, he hears something curious.

“Ow!” You hiss, a scowl etched into your features as Hix prods you with a wooden staff. You appear to be frozen in place, your body unnaturally rigid, and telling by the shimmering quality of your clothes and skin, Hix probably cast some sort of spell on you.

“This is very interesting,” He hums, jabbing you in the back near your shoulder blades. “You look like you should have wings. They should be right here.” He drags the staff along your back, obviously perplexed. “Is this a genetic defect of some sort? You say you’re human?”

“Are you finished?” You ask impatiently, ignoring his questioning.

“I don’t entirely trust you yet. I need to make sure you aren’t just a fairy that’s trying to trick me to help Nissa escape. Even if you are who you say you are, there’s no guarantee that I’ll let her go. Surely I’ll gain some status if I have 2 wives. One who’s powerful and one that’s exotic.” He continues to circle you. Jimin fumes at that, ready to do something, but then you speak again.

“What’s your goal here?” You seem calm, and something tells him to wait.

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you doing this? Why did you suddenly decide to kidnap Nissa and invade this area?” Hix debates whether or not he should tell you this or not, but in the end, opens up. There’s just something about you that makes people do that.

“The fairies treated me so poorly here. I was an outcast and everyone always excluded me, barely even considering me a fairy just because I had a knack for destroying things. Do you know how it feels to be rejected by your own people? Well I’ll tell you: it sucks. Most bugs didn’t even want to socialize with me, having heard rumors from the fairies about me and not even giving me a chance. I was sad and lonely and spiteful, so I decided that I’ll become powerful and gain control over this side of the water and force everyone to pay attention to me!”

“Is that what you want? Attention?”

“Yes. I want everyone to acknowledge me and see that I’m not worthless. If I control the waterway, I control everything. And if I have the fairy leader at my side as my wife, there’s no way anyone can ignore me anymore. I won’t have to be lonely or outcast, pushed to the corner where I’m out of sight and out of mind. My friends on the other side of the stream helped me realize that if I want to be happy, I need to be at the top.” He says this thoughtfully, placing his poking stick to the side and coming to stand in front of you.

“But this won’t make you happy. Sure, you’ll be married and may be able to control this area, but really, all you’ll have is a wife that doesn’t love you and a land full of people that hate you. They all know you kidnapped Nissa so she isn’t really on your side, and that your minions are destroying this place. The type of attention you’re getting from this isn’t the kind you want, trust me. It’s only confirming their thoughts about you.” He narrows his eyes at you, clearly disliking your reasoning.

“Then what do you suggest I do?” As the two of you stand face to face, Jimin decides to take this chance to creep over and steal Hix’s wooden stick. That way he won’t be able to poke you anymore and will inadvertently be aiding in his captive’s escape. Jimin hadn’t planned on staying to listen to your conversation, but what you say next makes him pause.

“What you need is to find real love and passion. I have someone that I love with my whole heart and I’ve been so happy since I met him. He’s a person that makes me feel brave, that would protect me at all costs, that takes me on adventures outside of my comfort zone, and I’ve grown so much just from being around him. On top of that, he helped me find my passion for exploration and travel, and we’ve had so many new experiences together that I wouldn’t have even dreamed of with anyone else. That’s what you need. You need someone— a lover or a friend— that challenges you and makes you happy. All of this stuff is great, but it doesn’t mean anything to you. In fact, all it does is hurt the people involved, including yourself. You’re not a bad person, you just need to branch out and find yourself. Let all of this go and find what really brings you joy.”

Was what you said true? Did you really feel that way about him? Jimin feels like his heart is about to burst at your confession. Although it wasn’t meant for him to hear, that makes it that much more sincere. He told you he loved you a little while ago and you didn’t even react, but hearing you say this eases every worry he had. Now motivated more than ever to finish this ordeal and get back to normal life with you, he snatches up the stick and hurries back to Nissa as Hix thinks over your words, his resolve looking shaken.

“You’re back!” She says as he enters, looking at him as though she can see him. She removes the spell on him, the film around him disappearing with the flick of her hand. Swiftly, she takes the leaf and staff from Jimin, moving to a table to drop the contents onto a prepared pile of dust. “Hix’s staff? Nice choice.” She giggles inspecting the wood with satisfaction before coating the items in the powder. After less than a minute she produces her finished product, the new staff glowing brightly. “Hold this.”

She thrusts it into his hands, and to his surprise, it’s quite heavy compared to the almost weightless stick he brought to her. Nissa walks over to the barrier, hands covered in dust, and places them in the center. Her palms move over the barrier independently, as if searching for something, and after a few seconds, she returns to him to take the staff back with now clean hands. He watches in awe as spots of gold seemingly float in midair as if attached to glass and the fairy walks over wielding her tool, not hesitating for a second before thrusting the blunt edge into the gold spots. Sparkles radiate out along the doorway with every strike, her technique looking like a fencing player expertly brandishing her rapier, and as soon as the last spot is pierced, the barrier flashes once and dissipates into a plume of dust. The dust lands on the stink bugs underneath, both of them falling to the floor, and the woman simply steps over their sleeping bodies without batting an eyelash.

“Come on, let’s go!” She waves him over, snapping Jimin out of his stupor as he follows her into the hall. They make their way back to you cautiously, avoiding all enemies as they navigate through the fortress.

Meanwhile, you sit with Hix on one of the benches in the center of the large room, your backs facing the entrance. You didn’t mean for this to turn into a therapy session, but somehow you ended up listening to all of his problems and sympathizing with the struggles he’s faced leading up to this, trying to help resolve this conflict peacefully.

“If you have friends on the other side of the stream, why don’t you just move there and live with them?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed in pity. “You would have a better life where they already accept you, instead of trying to force others to see your worth here.”

After giving this some thought, Hix stares out of the window in front of you. The water passes lazily outside, the other side looking several times farther away than when you were normal sized. “Maybe you’re right... but I put so much time and effort into this plan, I can’t give it up so easily.”

“You can! I know it seems like a waste of time, but the damage hasn’t been done yet. Things aren’t set in stone, you can still change your path and redirect yourself in a better direction. You haven’t married Nissa yet and your stink bugs haven’t destroyed this area, but if you continue like this, you may end up doing something irreversible and regretting it. Walk away now and start over. People don’t get many chances to do that in life.”

“But-“ He shakes his head. “They’re never going to forgive me for what I’ve done. I kidnapped their leader and threatened our home!” His head drops to his hands, and you put a hand on his back.

“They might not ever be able to forgive you, and that’s okay. But what’s important is that you never forget and use this experience to better yourself as a fairy. Look back on who you are now and tell yourself that you’ll never make the same mistakes again. I believe in you, Hix. I know you aren’t bad, you’ve just had a hard life— and I know I can’t do anything to make up for that, but I truly wish you the best in the future.” Your smile brings him to lift his eyes to look at you.

He sighs, looking at your sparkling eyes. You seem passionate about this and he can’t understand why you care so much about this. About him. You aren’t even a fairy from here, yet you’ve shown him more compassion than anyone in his entire life. And for the first time, his heart thumps wildly in his chest with warmth.

Nissa and Jimin arrive at the doorway, both peeking their heads in to see what was happening. They see you talking with Hix, your backs facing them, but the fairy looks to be in some sort of turmoil next to you, his head in his hands, looking mildly distressed. Jimin moves to interrupt, but Nissa holds her hand out in front of him, whispering to keep watching before taking action.

“I’ve had a change of heart because of you. I think it would be best if I did move to the other side of the water, away from the creatures I hurt and oppressed here. You’ve opened my eyes, (Y/n). You truly are a beautiful soul inside and out.”

He looks up at you again before suddenly lunging at you and pulling you into a hug, but from another perspective it looks as though he’s grabbing you and pulling you to him against your will. Nissa and Jimin gasp as they see your eyes wet with tears, and as soon as one slips down your cheek, they jump into action.

“I’m sorry you were treated so badly here. I wish I was born a fairy so that I could be your friend and change how things were for you.” You mumble sadly into the embrace, to which he chuckles.

“Thank you for your empathy, but you do not mean that. You have another life to live. Go be happy with your lover and tell him that you love him everyda-“

THUNK!

Nissa storms over from her hiding place and swings her club down, landing squarely on the back of Hix’s head. A short scream falls from your lips when he goes limp, the noise echoing in the room as he falls out of your arms and off of the bench onto his face, laying flat on the floor. Jimin pulls you up and into his arms, replacing the space where your new friend had been without a second thought. Cradling you into his chest, he misses the horrified look you have on your face.

“Did he hurt you? Are you okay? Did he touch you or make you do anything against your will?” His eyes are worried and you almost don’t have it in your heart to be angry. Almost.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You shout, looking down at his body. “Oh my god, did you kill him?” Jimin holds you as you try to go over to Hix, but you rip out of his grasp to kneel down to your new friend.

“Of course I didn’t kill him, he still needs to face the consequences of his crimes. I just knocked him unconscious.” The fairy beside Jimin says nonchalantly, looking incredibly satisfied with the sight of him lying unconscious.

“Why? He just agreed to let us go and move to the other side of the water! We resolved this peacefully!” Your eyes are flames as you look at them, and Nissa’s mouth falls open.

“Wait, he what?!” Even Jimin looks surprised. Yes, you are the most charming and persuasive person he’s ever met, but did you really sweet talk a villain in such a short amount of time?

Before you can say anything, several stink bugs enter the room, the commotion causing them to check on their leader. Their tiny eyes land on you leaning over his limp body, Nissa with a club and Jimin standing suspiciously near the scene of the crime. You try to explain— as if they would even understand you— but the wings on their backs open up and they begin to charge toward you aggressively.

There’s little time to react as Jimin grabs hold of your wrist and pulls you up, dragging you along as he follows the fleeing fairy that dashes toward the exit. You have no choice but to run with them, looking behind you only to be met with the large armored bodies of your pursuers. They close in from the left, right, and from behind as you head toward the door, close to cutting off your exit. You and Jimin sprint past Nissa when she suddenly twists around to face them, and with one swing of her club, the bugs are pushed backwards, allowing the three of you to make your escape.

Fresh air slaps you in the face once you make it outside, the humidity and guilt feeling suffocating in your lungs. In your heart you know this isn’t right. You connected with Hix, you made so much progress with him, but in the end violence was still used to get your way despite that. Yes, you and Nissa escaped, but someone else was hurt in the process. If Hix decided to go back to his original plan, you wouldn’t blame him, but you still feel horrible about how things turned out. You suppose your gut feeling was wrong after all.

“Babe, we have to keep running or they’ll catch us!” Jimin breathes exasperatedly, your feet slowing down beneath you without you noticing. A swarm of guards are now flying in from all sides, there’s no way you’ll be able to get around them. But that doesn’t mean Nissa won’t try, the fairy flying up to smack down the insects in an attempt to clear a path. But she’s just one woman and it won’t be enough, and you can’t force yourself to keep going. Just then, Alva and Laila appear, joining their warrior leader in the battle, knocking down the bugs to help you advance forward, but by now, you’ve stopped running. “(Y/n)!” Jimin pleads, tugging on your arm, but you ignore him.

Looking around, all you can see is a mess of flailing bodies and Fairy Dust, warriors attacking each other for an irrelevant cause. The sounds of buzzing and grunts fills your ears at an unsettling volume. It’s pure chaos. You hoped to avoid this— a war where others get hurt instead of solving things diplomatically and sensibly. As the appointed “diplomat”, you supposed you failed if things had to come to this.

“Alva, Laila, Nissa! Please stop!” You shout at them when one falls to the ground roughly. “You don’t need to fight, Hix has changed! He was about to let us go, there’s no need to fight unnecessarily!” They barely spare you a glance, the three of them trying to push through the blockade.

“Then why are they attacking you?” Alva points out, ducking as one bug tries to tackle her.

“You really believe he’s changed?” The leader asks, strained.

“Yes, he has. I could tell just by looking at him, he was telling the truth.” Nissa looks unconvinced, scoffing at your response.

“Then you don’t know him like I do.” She clearly doesn’t trust what you say, so you turn to your boyfriend, hoping he’ll be more understanding. Jimin looks at you and into your eyes, reading your emotions as if they were written in ink. He knows from experience that you’re a great judge of character and that you’re seldom wrong about things like this, but at the same time, you’re talking about the person who has tormented this side of the stream so much that the fairies here needed to recruit the two of you for help. It’s hard to believe that you’d be able to change him so easily. Only a few seconds pass but he feels like he’s standing there for minutes debating on if he should take your side or not. But he trusts you— you need him to trust you— so he does.

“I believe you.” He says quietly, letting go of your arm, much to your relief. You’ve always been a pacifist, so he knows you’ll take this personally if anything bad happens to any of your comrades. He calls up to the others. “If she says he’s changed, then he has! Please, stop fighting.”

“How can you be so sure?” Laila questions, looking down at the two of you briefly.

“I know my girlfriend. (Y/n) wouldn’t lie about something like this.” As he speaks, nobody notices the male exiting the fortress with a throbbing head, looking out at all of the action in front of him. “Laila, Alva, you brought us here to help save your land, and it was (Y/n) who convinced me to help you do it. The least you could do is believe her and listen to what she has to say. She cares so deeply about this place after only being here for a short time, she would never do anything to hurt you. Just please stop attacking and listen. You don’t have to believe her right now but at least stop fighting.” Jimin isn’t nearly as eloquent with his words as you are, but you can’t help but smile at his short speech. It may not mean anything that he’s taking your side, but you appreciate the support nonetheless. And to your surprise, everyone does stop fighting soon after.

The stink bugs land in an orderly pattern, standing solidly like before as Hix approaches dizzily from behind. Your three friends land as well, glaring at the man who now holds his head with a sorrowful look on his face. Without seeing him, you step forward, prepared to explain all that you have learned. You tell them of how you listened to Hix (the first time anyone has ever done that) and found that he was just a misunderstood and lonely villain of their own creation. You spoke of how he simply wanted to be acknowledged, and how all of the creatures around did everything in their power to make sure he never received that acknowledgement by spreading untrue rumors about his character. Hix isn’t evil, you explained, he’s just desperate to be one of them, and if it took him going to such extreme measures for them to finally notice him and his struggles, then the problem lies with them and not him.

“So he won your pity? Good for him. But that still doesn’t excuse what he’s done.” Alva crosses her arms, followed by Nissa, Laila staying silent.

“Yes, I know.” He finally speaks up from behind you, looking dejected and apologetic when you snap your head around to look at him. Upon seeing him, Jimin steps in front of you out of instinct, not liking how physically close the two of you were before the escape. You trust Hix, but it is still his duty to make sure that you are safe. Your hand rests on his side, but you don’t push him out of the way, simply peeking out from behind his back to watch as the fairy speaks. “I know that what I have done is unforgivable, but this human has given me a lot of insight. Enough to change my heart.”

They scoff at him, but refrain from speaking at your sharp glare. Hix approaches you, but Jimin stands firm, holding his arms out to block him— something that surprises the mud colored fairy before you.

“It’s okay, Jimin.” You say, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder in reassurance. Hix looks on in awe as you stare into each other’s eyes, communicating in an unspoken language that makes your boyfriend slowly comply and allow you to step into the open. But he still makes sure you’re right at his side. He won’t let you out of his sight again.

“I see. So this “assistant” is your lover?” Hix grins in realization, donning sparkles in his eyes. You nod. “I’ve never... known love or kindness. But seeing you like this, and having experienced the kindness you showed to me— a complete stranger— makes me want to find it on my own. Away from here.” His fingers are soft when they touch your arm, color painting his cheeks. Nissa gapes at this, not having seen the man be so tender before. She’s only seen his bitterness or the mocking, teasing persona he used when addressing Laila, whom he’s long had a crush on. He turns to them, addressing the three that stare in shock. “No amount of apologies will undo the trouble I’ve caused, but I’m willing to take whatever punishment you all decide for me. I want you to know that I plan on moving to the other side of the water, where I was more welcome there than I ever was here, and I will never bother you again. Nissa, I’m sorry I kidnapped you.” He looks down sheepishly. “It was very childish of me to think that it would solve anything, and instead it just caused more conflict and fighting. You are completely justified in knocking me out. Let this lump on the back of my head be a reminder of my wrongdoings and keep me on the right path.”

You stifle a laugh at that, biting your lip to hide your smile.

Then, Hix turns to you once more, looking between you and Jimin’s faces. “You are very wise,” You blush at this, feeling the earnestness in his compliment. “You said earlier that this person is someone you love, correct?” He asks, pointing to Jimin, to which you nod shyly. “Well, he is very lucky to have someone like you: someone so sincere and caring. Never change.” His eyes find Jimin’s. “I don’t know much about love, but she thinks of you very fondly. Please treat her with all the delicacy in the world and never let her go.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that, blushing furiously at your confession coming from the wrong mouth. You try not to look mortified when he looks down at you, your cheeks shaded prettily as well and lifted into a soft smile. He doesn’t plan on letting you go any time soon, and this whole experience has made him want to hold on to you tighter than before.

“What should we do with him?” Nissa whispers to her companions, eyeing the remorseful male that comes to stand in front of her.

“You are our leader, I think you should decide.” Alva replies. An odd look crosses Nissa’s face then, one that almost mirrors her enemy’s as they look back at each other.

“I’m your leader...” She mutters thoughtfully before standing straight. “I’m no leader. I caused everything that’s happened, everything that Hix has done. The rumors that ruined his reputation: I started them. I... I didn’t realize that my words could have so much power— that as the leader of the meadow that I had the strength to destroy someone just by giving my misguided opinion of them. No, I never liked you Hix,” He rolls his eyes at that. “But I never meant to cause you such pain. You deserve to live a normal life, so as leader I will allow you to leave without punishment.” Shocked, he bows his head in thanks.

“How noble and humble of you to admit your faults.” Laila comments quietly, her cheery attitude returning.

“Furthermore,” Nissa continues. “I’m stepping down.”

“What?! You can’t do that!” Alva protests loudly, eyebrows shooting up as she leaves the ground just slightly in her surprise. Laila also seems shocked, but she grabs her lover’s arm and tells her to calm down and let her explain.

“A real leader doesn’t slander others mindlessly. They are diplomatic and generous with a perfect balance of modesty and fierceness. I believe Laila fits that description perfectly.” Everyone turns to her then, your eyes lighting up when they meet hers for the first time this entire night. “Laila, I name you the new leader of the meadow. We can officially title you in front of everyone in the morning.”

You all clap, Alva jumping on her in a tight hug, the taller fairy spinning her girlfriend around before setting her feet back to the ground. Jimin smiles at the adorable display, his arm thoughtlessly wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his side. Your eyes are glued to him as he watches the happy couple. You’re happy he’s here with you through all of this. It’ll all feel like a crazy dream in the morning, but at least he’ll be there to recount all of your experiences with you.

“Since you’re giving up your position, whatdoya say we both start over across the water?” Hix interjects, wiggling his eyebrows at Nissa. “We could build a new place, find ourselves-“

“NO.” She cuts him off sharply, her wings twitching similarly to Alva’s.

“Well, then... I guess it’s time for me to go.” He says, pout on his lips, but it disappears when he turns to face the stream. In his eyes, you can see him envisioning his new future, the possibilities of having a new life where he doesn’t have to feel lonely and rejected anymore. You wish him the best, you truly do. He walks up to the water’s edge, dipping himself in safely and re-emerging looking clean. His real complexion is actually a dark leafy green, and you assume he colored himself brown to fit in with the stink bugs. He calls the creatures and they come flying up to him, all of them floating over the water together and dispersing into the wildlife there.

“I guess my gut feeling was right after all.” You tell Jimin, giving him a toothy grin. “Everything turned out just fine.”

You ride Garnet back to the meadow, yawning and resting your cheek on Jimin’s back for the entirety of the trip. It’s mostly silent, the breeze whistling lullabies into your ears and combing through your hair sweetly as you fly over the terrain. The spies are gone, you notice, the highly policed skies looking empty and calm. Many creatures have already started migrating closer to the water and you presume that Hix’s fortress won’t be standing for much longer once the insects get ahold of it, tearing it down to get to the bank of the water and restore their supply. You feel proud of you and Jimin for accomplishing your outlandish mission, and you whisper as much to him in the quietness of the night.

With one stop to visit and say your goodbyes to the friendly mushroom fairy, Bayard, you’re off to Nissa’s home, which you find out is right next to Alva and Laila’s.

“Alright,” She says, guiding you and Jimin inside her abode. “Time to make that reversal spell. If I can remember it.” She mutters the last part, causing your eyebrows to scrunch, but she waves you off when you question it.

“Thank you for helping us.” Laila walks up to you, meeting your gaze for the second time. She doesn’t seem as intimidated by you anymore, which is a relief. But her cheeks still flame the longer you hold eye contact. “We couldn’t have done this without you. Both of you.” Then she turns to Jimin. “Remember what we talked about. Never be embarrassed.”

You look between the two of them as he nods, neither saying anything more than that, but you’ll let them keep their secrets. She hugs both of you and then it’s Alva’s turn to say her last few words to you.

“Thank you both. I wasn’t sure if you’d be able to pull it off, but things turned out better than I could have hoped. Really, you two are lovely, come visit us again sometime if you can. Then you’ll get to see how beautiful the meadow is in times of peace.” She pulls you both into an awkward side hug that makes you giggle, her own cheeks pink and wings flicking when you tease her about it.

“Mm, I think this is it!” Nissa chimes, scooping the now blue Fairy Dust into a bag. “Are you two ready?” At your okay, they fly you back to your purple blanket, placing you in the center where you find other bugs inspecting the odd surface. “I guess I should say thanks as well. You didn’t have to save me, but I really appreciate that you did.” She bows her head at you, taking both you and Jimin’s hands in hers to show her gratitude.

A ticklish feeling overtakes your whole body when she sprinkles the blue dust onto you, but this time you don’t faint. You watch as the waving fairies become smaller and smaller, their figures disappearing until they are nearly microscopic to you. The blades of grass around the perimeter of your blanket shrink too, as well as the trees and fireflies surrounding you, all returning to normal proportions that take a minute for your mind to process.

“We’re finally normal again.” Jimin sighs, looking at his body and the area around you. It does feel better to know that your chances of being smashed by something are significantly lower now.

“Was that... real?” It feels fake, like a pipe dream, and when you check your phone you find that only an hour has passed since you first got there. “That can’t be right.” You blink a few times, both you and him staring at the time in confusion.

“Time must move slower when you’re that tiny.” He reasons, running a hand through his hair. You take the time to reorient yourself, gazing back up at the stars above you. They twinkle invitingly, their light feeling so much brighter after experiencing the darkness of the forest floor. You look over at Jimin to find that he’s already staring at you, looking as though he’s nervous about something.

“What?” You ask, eyes wide at the expression on his face. He takes a deep breath, your heart beating a thousand times faster.

“I...” Taking his lip between his teeth, he pauses to choose his words. “(Y/n), I love you.” Your heart flutters, and this time you let it. “I meant it when I said it earlier, I really do love you. I wanted tonight to be special so I brought you out here to a place that was special to me as a kid, and I wanted to confess to you here, but I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way. But I’m not afraid to say it anymore.” His hand finds yours, fitting perfectly like it was made to be there. “This whole experience made me realize how much I need you, and how terrified I am of losing you. I was so terrified that something bad would happen to you the entire time that I have a headache right now from all the stress!” You laugh, placing your free hand on the side of his face, fingertips grazing his temple. “But even though I was scared, you taught me how to be brave and step out of my comfort zone. I wanted to protect you, but somehow you ended up protecting yourself and saving the entire meadow with your amazing instincts (which is incredibly sexy, by the way), but now I feel like a useless sidekick. So, I guess the only thing I can offer a girl that has everything, is my heart. I don’t mind being your sidekick as long as I know you love me too.”

Jimin tends to ramble when he’s nervous, word vomiting everything that’s on his mind, but it’s one of his charms that you find absolutely adorable. You can’t help but smile at his confession, the dampness of his palms melting you. “Of course I feel the same way, Jimin. Hix kinda confessed for me, but I still want to say it myself. Park Jimin, I love everything about you. You might feel like you’re my sidekick tonight, but we’ve been on so many adventures before this where you were the one who led me out of my comfort zone and taught me how to find my own courage. Do you remember our first date?” He giggles at the memory with you, looking away with fondness. “It was around Halloween and you convinced me to go to one of those haunted trails with you after I said I’d never been to one. And you pulled me along every step of the way and held me close so I wouldn’t get lost or hurt myself because I had my eyes closed the entire time.” You let out an embarrassed chuckle. You really have changed a lot since meeting him. “I think that was the day that I realized I was in love with you. Or at least that I would fall in love with you. I’ve never felt so safe and comforted in anyone’s arms before, but when you held me, it felt like home. Every time we went on an adventure, you were always the one to reassure me and make sure I was okay; that’s the reason why I slowly began to open up to the world and realize my passion for exploration. I don’t think you realize just how much of who I am today is because of you, Jimin.”

“You don’t mean that..” He says, though his love for praise starts showing in the pleased look he has in his eyes. You decide to indulge in it.

“I do! I’m only able to be brave because I know that you’re there to protect me. You saved my life twice tonight! And thank you for having my back and helping me stop the fighting. I couldn’t have saved the day without you.” His hand wraps around the wrist of your hand that still rests on his face, both of you looking into each other’s eyes lovingly.

“Of course, babe, we’re a team. Let’s always stay together.” He leans in to softly press his lips to yours, and you stay in that gentle kiss under the stars for an indeterminate amount of time, lost in each other’s embrace. When you pull away, you see shapes being drawn into the air, Fairy Dust in the shape of hearts traced above your heads, and you smile at the antics of your friends, wondering if they were listening the whole time. It’s a beautiful display that warms your heart. “I think it’s time to head back to camp.” Jimin says softly when you yawn, standing before extending a hand to you and pulling you up against his chest.

As you bend down to pick up your belongings, you feel something hard in your pocket and reach inside to pull it out. An unnaturally shimmery whistle rests between your fingers, now grown to a proportionate size as it must have been caught in the spell as well. You meet eyes with Jimin as he folds up the blanket, raising his eyebrows at you to blow it, and when you do fireflies come swirling up from the grass, synchronized and brilliant as they put on a spectacle for you. You can’t help the giggle that bubbles from your throat as you watch them perform, spelling their thanks to you and your boyfriend before one comes to land in the center of your hand.

“Thank you, Garnet. We’ll come back to visit someday.” She flutters her wings and flashes her colors at you before taking off again into the night, her light blending in against the starry sky as Jimin takes your hand to begin the trek back to your campgrounds.