#for me its not about sadness instead the warmest for calmness

[ereana]

drabble prompts: zhongven; 2, 36, and/or 50

Zhongven 2 - The thought of losing you scares me

Venti was angry.

He didn’t like being angry. It scraped against his mind like shards of glass turning the very air around him into sharp stinging winds, the sort that left humans chilled to the bone on a cold winter’s day when not even the warmest coat could keep out the cold.

It was a little embarrassing really. He was one of the oldest gods left yet he still was at the mercy of his own emotions unlike a certain blockhead who—

The sound of splintering wood filled his ears as the tree beside him disintegrated into sawdust as the very air around it tore into the bark in a sudden fit of rage. Venti pinched his brow and let out a deep sigh.

Right. This was why he was here sitting on one of the cliffs overlooking the Stone Gate instead of drowning his sorrows at the Angel’s Share. Diluc might actually try to kill him if Venti destroyed the building because of his bad mood. Plus he didn’t want to accidentally hurt any of his people who were completely innocent and had nothing to do with his current displeasure unlike a certain traitorous liar of a lizard that he was determinedly not thinking about. 

A few unlucky birds flying overhead let out chirps of alarm as they were suddenly spent spinning towards the ground, with a flick of his fingers Venti corrected the breeze and sent them gracefully soaring towards Liyue.

He watched them silently for a few moments. While he wasn’t the sort of being to lose himself in melancholic thoughts there were times when taking a minute or two to just think could be helpful. And it wasn't like this was a normal situation either.

If it was normal, whatever normal meant to a wind wisp turned god turned ex-archon turned bard — although he had been a bard for quite some time so maybe the chronology needed some rethinking — then he wouldn’t have any issue controlling his anger. Venti would like it to be noted, probably in one of his own songs, that he was usually pretty good at the whole self control thing. He hadn’t turned his anger on Mondstadt when he’d learned what happened to Dvalin. There were secrets that could shake the world locked safely behind his teeth. Granted there were perhaps a few too many people who knew his true identity but it wasn’t his fault that his people were so perceptive!

With all that compelling evidence in mind, Venti was confident in asserting that had this been a normal issue he would not have had to exile himself to a barren cliff edge because he was a danger to everyone around him due to his fury turning the summer breeze into blades of anemo.

He nodded decisively before groaning at his own inability to deal with the actual problem

Although judging by the footsteps steadily approaching the problem had come to deal with him instead.

Venti closed his eyes and waited until the intruder had reached the top of the cliff, unable to get too close because of the protective vortex which now surrounded him but close enough to hear him.

“I’m mad at you.” Venti stated quietly, his voice devoid of its usual humour.

“I can tell.” Morax — or was it Zhongli now — said calmly. So calm it made the winds whip up into a frenzy sending blades of freshly cut grass spiraling into the sky. 

“Is that all you have to say?” He asked, and now there was a note of anger in his tone. “After what you—” Venti cut himself off, clicking his tongue in frustration at the mix of hurt, relief and sadness which swelled inside his chest.

“No, there is much I would say to you. If you would allow it.”

Venti laughed, a harsh sound that grated against his ears.

“Oh now I’m suddenly someone worth talking to. Now. When the damage has been done and the dust has settled here you come ready to make things right once more. What does the immediate upset matter when it can be fixed with a deal or a contract to replace what has been….” Venti stopped and finally turned to look at the man behind him. “I thought you died Morax.”

Morax stared at him quietly. They’ve known each for far too long to hide anything from the other and Venti can see in an instant that he won’t get an apology for what happened. Morax will offer one for hurting him, for not seeking him out straight away after the matter had concluded, but he won’t apologize for the act itself. 

“You had to, my dear. In case someone was watching the wind had to mourn the loss of the mountain.” Morax stepped forward causing Venti to instantly drop the vortex in case the old fool actually hurt himself.

It only took a few of his husband’s long strides before Morax was lowering himself to sit beside Venti. Venti, who hadn’t seen him since he woke up from his unplanned five hundred year long nap, dropped his head onto one firm shoulder. It was about as comfortable as using a rock for a pillow.

“The thought of losing you scares me more than anything. It almost broke me.” He admitted softly. 

If there really had been a murderer in the world Venti would not have stopped until he’d ripped the air from the culprit’s lungs himself.

Mor— no Zhongli was probably best to use now. Morax had died.

Zhongli wrapped a hesitant hand around Venti’s waist. Venti let him, too tired and too relieved to push away the comfort. His husband wasn’t wearing any gloves so the warmth from the golden veins in his hand seeps through Venti’s shirt to his skin. After five hundred years Venti was back where he belonged.

“Don’t do it again blockhead.”

A press of lips against his head, the stroke of a thumb against his waist, and the first contract made by the man known as Zhongli.

“I promise.”

[xzstudios]

For @fytheuntamed ‘s Untamed Fall Fest. Day 1: Mid Autumn Festival

海上生明月，天涯共此时。 The moon, grown full now over the sea, brightening the whole of heaven.

情人怨遥夜，竟夕起相思。 Brings to separated hearts, the long thoughtfulness of night.

灭烛怜光满，披衣觉露滋。 It is no darker though I blow out my candle, it is no warmer though I put on my coat.

不堪盈手赠，还寝梦佳期。 So I leave my message with the moon, and turn to my bed, hoping for dreams.

“Looking At The Moon And Thinking Of One Far Away” (望月怀远) by another Tang poet, Zhang Jiu Ling (张九龄, 675-740 AD). This poem was written when the poet Zhang Jiu Ling was demoted. It expresses the feelings that he missed his family or lovers at a full-moon night. Above the ocean, the bright full-moon rises slowly, the poet wished his family or lovers far away were sharing this moment together with him.

[janghoefett]

Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 8

BOBA FETT X F!READER

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+ NO MINORS Pairing: F/M Chapter word count: 2.2k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, Jamie is gross and suggestive about Princess but what’s new, the mildest of smut, really sad actually.

SERIES MASTERLIST

——————————–

“I don’t want it to be over,” your voice breaks.

Boba doesn’t say anything. If he said anything, he knew his voice might break. He knew he would make it harder, he knew it would hurt more. He holds you instead, keeping you close to his chest, running a hand down your arm as if to memorize your skin. He wipes your tears away. He presses soft kisses to your lips with the hope that he could change things.

“I don’t want it to be over either, princess,” he answers after a moment.

You had woken up on the day of your wedding to another man with Boba Fett’s arm wrapped around your waist. You spent the warmest night together talking and making love, and you had discovered more about the bounty hunter than you had in weeks. He told you about Jango, about Kamino, the clones, about everything that made him who he was today. It was shortly before you drifted to sleep that you realized somewhere between the sex and his services as your bodyguard, Boba Fett had become your friend as well as your lover.

Reluctantly, you sit up and allow your toes touch the cold floor. You look around the room only to be reminded of just how empty it now was — most of your apartment had been cleared out while you were away as your belongings had been taken to the prince’s home in the Dunes, where you would be living after today. Your home was now devoid of life, and soon you and Boba would leave it and its memories behind as well.

You said you would see each other again. You said that maybe when things calmed down, you’d meet somewhere far away. You each talked about it with a smile as Boba made filthy promises that made you shudder, still pressing his hips into yours. “Would you like that, love?” he breathed against your neck. “We could go somewhere where no one would ask questions... we could do everything we haven’t done already.” But still, there was this nagging feeling in your chest that told you this was the end, and you each spent these last hours together knowing that nothing was certain.

Your dress was stunning. The lace was dripping with pearls, all materials acquired at a hefty price, and all constructed to compliment your figure. You pull it up past your hips and hold it to your body, turning around to find Boba watching you. “Would you?” you ask him quietly, holding the two sides of the back in place.

He works on the intricate fastenings in silence with his large fingers, taking his time to marvel at the way the garment forms to your curves until he makes it to the top. Boba reaches into his pocket and places a small two-way comlink into your hand, lingering there as he leans into your ear. “I want you to have this, princess,” he says softly. “You call me, mesh’la, for anything… and I’ll come.”

You fiddle with the device in your hand, staring at it as you try to muster the strength to look him in the eyes. “Thank you,” you whisper. “For everything.”

Boba turns you around and lifts your chin to meet his gaze. Your chin wobbles and your eyes fog up as you search his face, allowing him to grasp your cheeks between his hands. “I won’t let you go alone,” he decides after a moment. “I’ll come with you to the Dunes to see that you’re alright—”

“You can’t, he won’t let you!” you sob.

“Damn him, I’ll come for you, girl!” Boba snaps.

You throw your arms around him, letting your tears fall freely. Boba holds you tightly and it’s near violent, the way he presses you to his chest as you kiss at each others lips. “It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’ll be okay.”

He kisses you with passion, cradling the back of your head and pressing his forehead against yours. Your breathing slows and you let him support your weight, breathing in his comforting musk and running your hands down his chest. “I want you to live a long and healthy life for me, princess,” he croaks. “And I want you to find your happiness.”

Boba wipes your tears away and you pull him in to your lips once again, kissing him slowly, sweetly, to cherish all you had shared, and all he had meant to you. “Goodbye, Boba,” you whisper against his lips. “I wish you all the luck in the galaxy.”

He holds your hand until you slip through his fingers, leaving him to seal your fate.

--------------

Boba was at the ceremony as promised. He kept his distance, watching from the corner, assuming his position as the deadly bodyguard one last time. He was immensely proud of you for believing in something that was bigger than yourself, but all the same he couldn’t stand the sight of you putting yourself through this torment, feeling his gut contort at the subtle way your smile didn’t reach your eyes and bottling his anger as the prince kept his hand on your waist.

Your mind was hardly present. You went through the motions of the ceremony as if you were a droid simply performing a function, unfeeling as you completed your task. You were taken into a separate room during the festivities to sign the contract and you couldn’t have signed faster.

It was over.

The reception was tolerable as you spoke to your friends and family until, that is, Jamie decided to make a toast.

“If you would have told me even a year ago that I would be marrying the woman I’ve loved since I was a child...” he falters. He looks at you and you swear his eyes grow foggy. Your breath hitches and your body tenses, flickering your eyes towards Boba. “I can only hope I’ll grow to deserve you, princess. Look at her, isn’t she lovely?” he asks to the room, eliciting cheers and applause. “And she’s all mine.”

You take one last look at Boba as you are ushered out of the ballroom, smiling sadly and remaining grateful for all you had shared.

Despite its unappealing occupants, Jamie’s family home was always large and comfortable. You see yourself in with familiarity, leaving Jamie and his entourage behind to walk straight towards the guest bedroom in an attempt to carve out your own space.

“My dear,” he calls. “Our bedroom is that way. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll be in in a moment.” You stare at him blankly and look across the room at the onlookers, watching the scene with intrigue. 

Jamie was saving face.

You scowl and turn on your heel, marching in the opposite direction towards his bedroom and immediately closing the door behind you. You climb onto the crisp sheets and bury your face into the pillow, letting your mind go blank, hoping to allow the stress of the day to pull you towards sleep. You had only drifted off lightly when a voice startles you.

“I knew from the moment you opened the door on Coruscant why you had left town.”

Jamie. You open your eyes and turn toward the door to find him standing there, leaning against the frame his arms crossed. “You’re not a good liar,” he continues. “Never have been.”

You say nothing. You sit up and crawl back on the bed, maintaining a preemptive distance from the unstable man who looks upon you with disdain.

“I saw Fett on the balcony that night. I saw you wrap your arms around him and I saw...” he falters, his anger flooding into his voice. “Well, I don’t need to tell you, you were there.”

Tears sting at your eyes. It isn’t even embarrassment you feel upon hearing Jamie’s words, it is the impact of recalling that important moment spent with the man you were in love with. It was the first time you had consummated that love after realizing your feelings for each other, and you could feel that night on your flesh still - it hurts and fills your heart all the same.

“Tell me something, princess. What is it about Boba Fett? What does he have that I don’t?” Jamie asks.

You shake your head. You can see the muscle in his jaw clicking and you know that there’s no answer you could possibly give. “That’s a ridiculous question,” you respond dismissively.

Jamie sighs. He turns for the door before stopping to look back at you, seeming to trace the form of your body with his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll forget him in time,” he tells you.

It wasn’t that Boba had anything that Jamie did not. But he was the one man who knew your soul, who loved you truly, without conditions, and without expecting anything in return... and that meant more to you than Jamie could ever understand.

-------------------

Boba Fett’s work was not done.

He was intent on catching Jamie — now more than ever he wanted the man’s head, and he was going to strike while the iron was hot. Make no mistake, Boba wasn’t doing this to please Jabba. 

He was doing this to free you.

Boba had calculated that Jamie’s next shipment should be arriving that very night. He sees the warehouse there, rising from sand, illuminated by all the stars in the sky, and he saunters towards the fortress to end this once and for all.

With his gun in hand, Boba enters the empty space to find Jamie leaning over a stack of crates. “It’s over, Barso, put your hands up,” Boba calls. “I’m taking you in alive.”

Jamie turns to face Boba revealing his own blaster to be drawn. “I’m the one wearing armor,” Boba smirks with amusement. “Think before you do something stupid.”

“Yeah, I’m so stupid, aren’t I…” Jamie mumbles. Boba keeps his grip firm as he slowly saunters closer to the prince. “You know, right when I thought I could finally have her… you had to come along,” Jamie continues.

“You fell out of her favor by your own doing,” Boba retorts.

“No. No, I don’t think so,” Jamie laughs. “You told her, didn’t you? You told her what I did.”

“She had the right to know who she was marrying,” he answers simply. 

Jamie holds his blaster with both hands as sweat begins to gather at his brow. “Who cares if I’m screwing over the Hutts?” he sneers. “Do you care, Fett? Do you honestly care?”

“I care that you are a danger to the princess,” Boba snaps.

Jamie laughs. “Look at you, Fett, you’re like a dog on a leash after a few quick fucks,” he smiles. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure the princess is well taken care of after you’re gone.”

And then it’s as if the thread holding Boba together snaps.

He shoots three rounds off right at Jamie only to discover a terrible truth. The prince raises his hand and pushes the charges back towards Boba as if by magic, the red beams ricocheting off his chestplate. Boba freezes — he knows what he just saw...

Jamie was a forgotten child of the Force.

“It’s my party trick,” Jamie shrugs with a smile. “Come and get me, Fett.”

And so he does.

———————————

A bounty hunter should be free of attachments.

How many times had Boba heard those words? Jango Fett never let a day go by without conditioning his son to think with logic, to plan, to remain unfeeling… but here he was, sick with love and letting those feelings drive him.

Boba wakes up in binders. His body aches and his first thoughts are of you — were you safe? He feels for the comlink in his pocket but his armor had been stripped. As he is able to take in his surroundings, he realizes he’s moving.

He was on a prison transport. 

“Where are we going?” Boba asks the tired looking man next to him.

“Coruscant,” he scoffs. “Where they send everybody they can’t afford to keep.”

Boba leans his head back against the wall behind him in disbelief. The last time he let his feelings get in the way of a mission, he was only a boy. He was wracked with grief and with rage as he tried to avenge the death of his father... and now as he tried to protect the woman he loved, he had landed himself in prison once again.

He almost feels as if he deserved it.

Boba could hardly tell you how it happened. He had started attacking Jamie with his fists through his rage, fueled by fear and a fierce protectiveness over you. Jamie continued to spew vulgarities, kicking, screaming, until he managed to aim his blaster between Boba’s legs. The prince shot right into Boba’s crotch in short range, making a dent in the codpiece and leaving the bounty hunter blinded by pain from the impact.

From out of sight, one of Jamie’s men hit Boba with a stun ray, rendering him unconscious on top of Jamie.

Jamie laughed in disbelief at his success. He’s met with applause from the men as he sloughs Boba off of him, wiping the blood from his mouth. “Just like I said it would happen, right boys?” he pants. 

If there is one thing you should know about Jamie Barso, it’s that you should never underestimate him.

Jamie kneels by Boba to remove the helmet and lifts his head back by the hair, smiling at the sight of his unconscious prize. “Always thought I was too stupid, didn’t ya?” he smiles in his triumph. He drops Boba’s head, letting it hit the hard floor as he reaches into his vest to pull out his comlink.

“Marshal Grant,” Jamie huffs. “Boba Fett has just tried to kill me. I want him arrested.”

-----------------

NEXT CHAPTER

-----------------

[thefanficmonster]

Not Alone

Valkyrae (Rae) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Mention of death of a pet, Grieving

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Angst

Summary: When Y/N doesn’t join the scheduled stream of Among Us with some cheap reasoning that everyone else falls for, Rae is far from convinced. She goes on to check the situation on her own just for her suspicions and worries to be confirmed further - something is off about Y/N and Rae is nothing if not determined to find out what.

Requested by @alex3atsbugs  Hello dear, consider this my farewell to the adorable little Marceline, I hope the cutie is looking down at us from heaven right now. Marceline, I might not have known you but I miss and love you regardless.  You have a special place in our hearts and you will never be forgotten. All my love, Vy ❤

“Ok so we’re only waiting on Lily now, right?“ Sykkuno asks, adjusting his earbuds as he scans over the settings for the game since he was the one to create the lobby which is now almost complete - lacking one more astronaut before the game can start.

Rae, who’s been scrolling through Instagram, looking at fanart and edits, snaps her head up to look at her computer monitor with confusion written all over her features, her brows furrowed, “Wait, what about Y/N? Aren’t they coming?”

This sudden change has surprised Rae more than someone would consider reasonable. But, in her eyes, it’s perfectly reasonable and justifiable considering Y/N has never skipped a stream nor have they ever not reported to her even for the tiniest of things such as running late. Even if they are not joining today, which is a huge oddity in and of itself, they would’ve definitely told Rae about it.

“Oh, no they won’t be joining us today. They said they were experiencing some technical troubles.” Sykkuno replies nonchalantly which aggravates Rae a tiny bit. She cannot comprehend how no one else is seeing anything odd here. Maybe it has something to do with how attentive she is when it comes to Y/N - she’s not sure why, but she is - or maybe it’s just a gut instinct but regardless, she can’t shake the feeling that something’s wrong. Not to mention that in all their years of streaming together on Twitch and now on YouTube never has Y/N dealt with technical difficulties that led to them not being able to stream. 

Y/N is the type of organized person that is constantly on top of things. They’d never let a technical difficulty get between them and providing their fans with entertainment. Chances are, if there really was an issue, it would’ve been fixed by now and even if it wasn’t...

Y/N would’ve let me know they wouldn’t be joining, Rae’s mind screams, almost altering her calm facial expression. 

“Hey can you give me about five minutes? My router’s acting up, I’ll restart it.“ Rae blurts out without as much as a second thought. Her thoughts are elsewhere right now, she’s got more important things to worry about. Luckily, her ability of rational thinking pushes through to the surface even without her guidance. 

She mutes her in-game and stream mics, takes her phone and rises from her chair, giving the camera what she hopes is a more apologetic rather than distressed smile before walking off-frame. Once out of view, she dials Y/N’s number, tapping her foot anxiously as she waits for her call to be picked up.

“Hello?“ When it does get answered, she’s met with a sniff before the weak voice utters the hesitant greeting word.

“Hey Y/N! What’s up?“ Rae tried to balance her question between a ‘what’s up?‘ in the ‘what’s wrong?‘ sense and the usual cheerful greeting she uses it as. She doesn’t want to end up seeming paranoid.

“Oh, hey, Rae. Nothing much. Aren’t you supposed to be streaming right now?“ Y/N’s tone raises a bit as they try to apply a bit more energy and enthusiasm into their words, presumably to erase any suspicion that sniffle might’ve caused in their friend who appears to have a sixth sense for when things are up with the people they care about. Or with Y/N specifically.

“Um...“ Rae spares the stream set-up a skeptical look, buying herself time to think of an excuse to partner her negation. She doesn’t want to lie to Y/N but she’s aware that they’ll be quick to ditch the conversation and postpone it if she admits to indeed be streaming. “Um, no, not yet. We scheduled it a bit later. Will you be joining us?“

“Uh, no, sorry, I won’t be able to. I’m sick and feeling like absolute crap so...“

Rae automatically stops listening, not on purpose, she just can’t hear Y/N’s voice over the alarms going off in her head, screaming at here that there’s something SERIOUSLY wrong. The stories not adding up - neither of them making sense to begin with - the lack of any authentic energy in Y/N’s voice, that sniffle she heard at the start of the call. It’s all so scarily wrong that it sends Rae one second away from entering full panic mode.

“I thought you were having technical difficulties.“ She blurts out without any thought of it’d make Y/N feel or how it would change the course of the conversation. 

Y/N inhales sharply as if caught completely off-guard and backed up into a corner, “Oh, yeah, that too. My computer keeps crashing.” Being backed up into a figurative corner doesn’t stop them from trying to further pursue this lie they’ve come up with. A lie so blatant and obvious there’s really no point in them trying to keep it going. Yet they choose to do exactly that.

“Y/N, you’re BSing me, you should know better than that!“ Rae whines almost desperately, “Please, tell me what’s going on? We’re friends, I don’t deserve to be kept in the dark, Y/N!“

There’s silence on the other end, loud silence that almost sends Rae into a breakdown. Some may consider it an overreaction, but let me ask you - wouldn’t you be upset and worried if someone you immensely care about was acting oddly and completely out of character.

“You’re going to think it’s ridiculous.“ Y/N’s voice cracks, letting it be known, clear as day, that they are barely balancing on the edge between keeping it together and crying.

“Of course I won’t, baby! I would never! Talk to me.“ Rae pursues, her heart breaking a little at the sound of her friend’s sadness. It’s taking a really big toll on her, not being able to hold Y/N in her arms instead of trying to gauge out their answers over the phone which is proving to be not at all effective or helpful to either of them.

Y/N sniffles again, “My hamster, Marcy...” She inhales to prevent a sob from escaping her lungs, “...died this morning.”

Rae has heard enough to be sent into action.

                                                            *  *  *

“Thank you so much, Rae. I would’ve probably stayed in bed all day with no effort to keep living whatsoever. You’re an amazing person, I hope you know that.“ Y/N gives the hand of Rae’s that’s holding hers a small squeeze, “I’m so lucky to have you.“

The two friends have been sitting on the couch in Y/N’s living room, the atmosphere a mix of melancholy and comfort. The comfort Rae’s been offering Y/N for the past hour or so has been almost entirely silent, in the form of physical affection, to be exact - hugs, soothing backrubs, gentle abstract patterns drawn on their arm, playing with their hair etc. Needless to say, it’s been far more effective than the attempt of calming them down and helping them out over a phone call.

“Don’t ever thank me for being your friend, Y/N. The honor’s all mine“ Rae rubs Y/N’s shoulder reassuringly, resting her head against theirs.

“Rae, you ditched a whole damn stream for me! Of course I’m gonna thank you! Who else would do that for me?“ Y/N protests, their glossy eyes looking up at Rea, lit up by the small smile that has managed to make its way onto their face.

“Only someone utterly stupid and heartless WOULDN’T do that for you.“ Rae says firmly, holding stern eye-contact with her friend.

Y/N looks away almost shyly, smile growing wider, their cheeks becoming rosier. “You have a way with words, you know...” They bite their lip nervously, “Could you help me express my emotions in the post I’ve been planning to make all day? My fans loved Marcy and I’m sure they’ll be as crushed as I am, I just want to appear strong so they don’t worry about me, you know?” They shrug their shoulders hesitantly as another tear escapes their eye.

Rae carefully and gently wipes their tear away with her knuckles, “Of course, Y/N. You don’t have to do this alone - you don’t have to do ANYTHING alone. Because you are never alone - you’ll always have me.”

Something about what Rae just said and the way she said it has struck a nerve in Y/N that has provoked a few more tears to spill out of their eyes as they somehow manage to whisper a: “Thank you” before throwing their arms around Rae, enveloping her entirely in the warmest of embraces. 

Meanwhile....

“Yo guys, how long does it take for a router to be reset?“ Sykkuno asks his fellow ghostie buds out of the blue.

“Less than five minutes. Why?“ Lily replies.

“Cause Rae said she’d reset her router and be back but she’s been gone for two hours so....“

[tarithenurse]

In the eyes

Fandom: Naruto Pairing: Uchiha Itachi x fem!reader Content: Feels. Angst. Loss. Love. Reference to killing (war and murder). Captivity. Sorrow. Hope. Anger. You name it, it’s there. A/N: I just want to say in my defence that this story isn’t my fault. Blame @maladaptive-ninja-returns​...it’s her birthday present (yes, I’m late)!

In the eyes

The steam is long gone together with your interest in the drink when you drain the cup of tea as the black-haired man gets up to leave. The cape hides what he’s missing – if only it was his leg instead – that way you wouldn’t have to keep the distance to the bare minimum, constantly risking him discovering that you’re following him. It doesn’t help to complain, though: he’s alive and mobile...and you have to watch your every move.

Volunteering for the assignment has probably been one of the more masochistic choices you’ve made, but you just couldn’t let the last Uchiha go yet.

For years, watching the kid grow older had kept a wound alive that no one knew about. It festered, saturating you with a sickening, rotten, sadness that never washed off but wasn’t detected by your peers. You should have let it heal. Should have moved on. But there had always been something keeping you from accepting what everyone else had decided must be true.

You weren’t the only one dealing with grief, of course. The life of a Leaf ninja was to say goodbye too soon and then to live with the numbing ache, renewed each time memories stirred.

Before the fourth war, the newfangled gossip of the dead returning was treated as ghost stories by most people until the climax of it all, when too many stood face to face with loved ones. Lost ones. And you were too weak to prevent the hope from being rekindled, so once peace was a reality and all the shinobis prepared to celebrate in the chaotic haze of the aftermath, you made a decision.

That is why, three seconds after the door closes behind Uchiha Sasuke, you get up...

...and sit right down again to avoid pressing against the sharp blade of the person suddenly appearing beside you.

The newcomer’s face is hidden partially under the wide-rimmed hat and the rest behind a dark and tattered cloak. Glancing down, a hand with purple-painted nails slips the kunai into the darkness of the cloak, leaving you with the knowledge that it’s there.

There’s no doubt in your mind that this is a shinobi. Where did you come from? Admittedly, there are others frequenting the little tea house because it’s a popular stop at a major crossroads...even if it mainly services those without national affiliations. None of the rest of the clientele reacts to the scene unfolding discreetly and you have no wish to catch their attention before you know what and who you’re dealing with.

“What do you want?”

It takes a second before you realize the question isn’t asked by you. Another one to recover from the smooth dusk that is the stranger’s voice. A voice with a hint of familiarity in the timbre which you decide must be your mind playing games.

“Nothing. I’m no enemy of yours,” you try to placate them, silently counting the seconds worth of head start separating you from Sasuke, “and I hold nothing of value...you should let me go.”

The tickle of a laugh surprises you. “If I’d wanted your possessions, they’d already be mine. I want answers, Konoha-girl.”

The headband you carry is hidden under your clothes, well out of sight from any prying eyes. Finally giving up on stalking your initial target, you turn your undivided attention to the person who has seated them-self before you.

The little skin you can see is pale, and a few black strands have escaped the slack ponytail and fallen in front of the face where only chin and jawline is visible. As if knowing your annoyance, the head is tipped slightly, allowing you to glimpse soft, gently smiling lips. Kissable. The thought jars you.

“I recommend you give up that wish.” No one should be able to hear the nervousness in your voice...but the stranger smirks. “My business is my own.”

“Not when it involves him,” they says, inclining the hat towards the door where Uchiha left.

You’re out to get him? You almost feel sorry for this fool who clearly doesn’t have a clue about the one-armed ninja’s identity.

“Don’t be mistaken,” the person smiles as if reading your thoughts, “I know who he is and what he’s capable of, after all...he’s my brother.”

Calmly meeting your gaze, the eyes meeting you flash red.

...

“Don’t look an Uchiha in the eyes”. It was the warning that was whispered into your ears as soon as you were big enough to run errands on your own. Naturally, you had to do it, and what met you was not as demonic as the warning stories had made you think – rather, they were kind, and wiser than the smooth face hinted at – although you never looked another Uchiha in the eyes just to be on the safe side.

It was impossible to discern the colour. Some days, they seemed leaden as if the rain clouds were gathered inside the boy too. A few times, in the morning when he watched where his fists struck the wood, the sparks from the cozy fire of the evening before still lingered in the warmest of black. What you loved the most, though, was when the gaze was locked onto infinity and they were soft like liquid.

...

Everything is different: the stuffy tea room with its noisy patrons has been replaced by somewhere deserted that seems to be carved out of grey stone.

How did I get here? Careful to move as little as possible, you take in the new surroundings only to find the place empty and with only one way in and out. A dull cold has already seeped into your feet as you stand there, lost as your bearings have nothing to latch on to – the only light is a torch in a wall sconce to your left.

Feet. They are bare, and a quick pat-down reveals that all of your weapons, your belt, and your headband have been stripped from you too. The sensation is uncanny, akin to nakedness. The logic behind it is obvious as it reduces the chances of a successful escape even if you were to make it out and establish a route.

On the other hand: you’re unharmed and unbound.

Turning, you have no doubt that the wooden door is locked but of course you go over to try, heart frozen near your throat when you push against it with your shoulder. Surprisingly, it does open and the screaming hinges sets the tiniest hairs on your body on end.

“Not wasting any time, Konoha-girl.”

You recognize the voice and the decorated nails on the hand that appears to pull open the door completely, and not just from the rest stop but from years of aching recollections that have been warped by watching Sasuke grow up with this man’s shadow lingering over his life. Over your life.

No. There’s no way. He died. Now your heart jackhammers a frenzied rhythm.

It’s a fool’s hope that powers the jab towards his neck. An idiot’s dream urging you to sprint past him. At least I tried, a bitter thought comments the moment both attempts are thwarted as a rib-crushing kick sends your tumbling backwards and you land sprawled in the middle of the room.

The ceiling is still spinning, it seems, when you sense the man’s presence loom over you. The fingers are cool (and surprisingly gentle) as the curl around the back of your skull, fingers digging into your hair to grant a tight grip to pull you closer by. Very close. A hand’s length separates the tips of your noses and you want to be oblivious to the way his mouth curves softly.

“You’re not leaving,” he whispers, “until I say so.”

Feeling and strength are beginning to return to your arms, including a sharp ache in your chest that grows with every shallow breath which you try to ignore. Should have restrained me, fool...and the thought dies there as everything shifts and the ground swallows your limbs.

“N-no...how...? No!”

He watches your struggles lazily before releasing his grip and sitting down next to you on the hard floor. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

But you did. Wait...no! You haven’t...it wasn’t you...it can’t have been...

“You lie about your identity,” you scoff, regretting the outburst immediately as pain stabs coldly into your side, “so excuse me for not trusting you on this either.” There is a little smile there on his lips, full of sadness and regret that makes your insides cringe momentarily until you have the breath to explain to him (or yourself) why it can’t be true: “Uchiha Itachi has been killed!”

“Yes...and then I was brought back.” He’s impossibly calm as though he’s simply discussing the weather. “Twice.”

Double reanimated? As if! The war had been a horror to live through and would have been without people facing their deceased comrades and family members on the battlefield. However, once destroyed or sealed, none of the animated dead had walked again and all of them had been dealt with properly in the end.

Looking at the ninja, none of the signs of reanimation are prominent. On the other hand...even if they had been, you might not even notice it now that you meet the man’s gaze and the liquid infinity there.

“I could show you...but I’m afraid your mind can’t take the strain in your current state,” the so-called Itachi explains.

Mind, your aching heart still reels from fear of being broken once more, this is all in my mind.

Zoning out everything else, you focus on the flow of chakra within. Calming it, soothing it, until abruptly forcing the flow to revert. It feels as if your very soul drops for a second but the moment it returns to its place, the world is no longer made up of lies and imaginary sensations...and you’re still lying on the ground in a room made of stone, your ribs feeling as if they’re speared by frost. The only improvement is that at least your limbs are free.

And Itachi? Yes, you have to call him that because deep within you can’t deny it any longer.

The official reports hadn’t been released by the time you left Konoha and you’re not high enough up in the ranks as a shinobi to get the juicy information unless it’s necessary for a mission – and since your missions tend to be B or simpler A rank...well, I guess my current mission’s a bust but this is an important discovery!

A silky chuckle refocuses your attention. “Very good...I suppose I must strengthen my genjutsu against you.”

He’s so close, you could touch him. Shifting to lean against the wall, he rests his arms casually on the knees and begins to pick at the chapping nail polish.

“No need to,” you bite back a groan as you roll over to sit up, “I take it that’s how you got me here?” Pretty eyes are watching your every move as he nods in agreement. “Hm. It’ll probably be useless to ask where we are, so...why? Why show yourself now?”

Sitting cross legged, you find the pain lessens if you pull your clothes and arms tightly around your torso, restricting the depth of your breathing. Broken or bent ribs? Not that it really matters. First of all, he would be able to beat you in a fight anyways; secondly, even if you got out of here you wouldn’t know where “here” is; and third (but not least), you don’t really want to run from him.

Rather than answer, Itachi stands up and holds out his left hand for you. Puzzled, you take it. Soft fingers curl around yours and he pulls you to your feet, studying your movements and the twisting facial expressions.

He doesn’t let go.

Not when he guides you out the door and into a hallway shaped of the same kind of stone as the room was made of. Carved from.

Not when he slows down at the sound of the squeaky breathing the pace forces from you.

There doesn’t seem to be many rooms along the winding path. Here and there a door bars the way or you catch a glimpse of a dead-end that looks as though the excavation was abandoned or even disrupted by cave-ins.

You do your best to memorize the path, but frankly, your mind is getting fuzzy from pain and exhaustion. You have no sense of time, just hunger and tiredness weighing you down to indicate the loss of many hours.

“Just a bit longer, [Y/N],” Itachi soothes.

When did I tell him my name? You want to ask or at least protest, but it would be a choice between talking or getting to wherever he’s leading you...and you doubt he’ll let you pause.

A few dozen steps later and a short flight of stairs up, he ushers you through a door into a room that looks like a mix between a kitchen and work station. A fire is the only light and heat source (the smoke venting up through a chimney too narrow to be an escape route), casting a warm glow over the solid wooden table and chairs. Everything else is hewn from whatever mountain you’re inside.

“Sit,” your captor finally releases the grip and points at a chair near the fire and you obediently do as you’re told.

There are shelves and niches almost hidden in the dancing shadows at first holding with boxes, bundles, and various utensils. He knows where everything is, grabbing a few items before returning and laying it out in the light. Bandages. His movements are fluid and elegant, just like you remembered.

He motions towards your upper body, then turns to tend to the fire. “Strip.”

“That’s really not -”

“Some of your ribs are broken. Restraining them will minimize the pain.”

He’s right. Of course he is.

With clipped movements, you pull off the layers until you hesitate at the poor excuse of a bra. Despite the now roaring fire, the cold from the stone still seeps into your body and raises waves of goosebumps and tightens your nipples. It would be easier to apply the bandages correctly without the last bit of clothing in the way, but right now it feels like the only shield left at your disposal as Itachi turns back to you.

“We’ll work around that,” the man offers softly.

He works quietly at first. Hands winding the linen bandages around you adeptly, pausing each time the ministration intensifies the pain and causes the discomfort to escape as stubborn hisses. The purple nail polish is mesmerizing – simultaneously a contrast to the horrific stories of a killer and perfectly fitting the pretty, nearly feminine, traits you see. Especially the eyes. Sure, they’re filled with a bottomless sadness that you don’t feel comfortable acknowledging, but they’re beautiful. Haunting.

“You’re staring,” he hums without looking up.

Shit. “No. I just -...let’s say you’re who you claim to be,” you try to recover, “why’re you back?”

“To be his watcher.”

“Says who?”

This time, he stops and looks you dead in the eyes. “Otsutsuki Hagoromo, the Sage of Six Paths.” There are very few proper comebacks to that, so your captor continues without giving you a chance to think of something, “Otsutsuki told me about the bonds of families and that it can transcend blood. He knows hatred can cause – and has caused – too much harm...but something rekindled his hope that it can be overcome.“

I don’t have an eye on Uchiha constantly, but... “Does Sasuke know?” Returning to his work, Itachi avoids your gaze. “He doesn’t...”

“He’s finally found peace and is on the right path...I can’t risk undoing it.”

Bullshit! “Or you’re a coward who doesn’t have the guts to fa-” the rest is cut off as soft fingers tighten around your throat.

Blood-red eyes pierce your mind, numbing you for an eternity or a millisecond.

...

They were a means to reach the goal but their words still hurt as you followed meekly in their footsteps. Snobbery. Disdain. Considering how proud your two team members clearly felt, they had very little to show for their reputation as Uchihas and frankly, it was your skills rather than theirs that ensured successful missions and still, you never once looked them in their face. Instead, you kept an eye out for two other of the clan.

Where one was, so would the other be. Thick as thieves, the boys had found a companionship that complemented their differences in the same manner as the sun and the moon. But as opposed to your teammates who swooned at the brightness of the sun, you were drawn to the night and the calmness it brought whenever that boy was near – each time he met your eyes, time became meaningless.

...

The two of you sit in silence as the steam from the soup caresses your face. Your mind is blank, slowly starting to pick up on the absence of stone walls – wood has replaced the cold surfaces, making it almost unbearably warm with the bandages underneath your layers of clothes – and a plethora of questions begin to press against your conscious only to be held back as most of your thoughts get derailed whenever you look at the man before you.

Without the hat and cloak to conceal him, it’s impossible to ignore all the details you’ve nurtured in your memory for ages, such as the slight pull of his lips as he thinks or the elegance of his movements now that he gets up and refills his bowl from the pot hanging over the fire.

“Why are you following Sasuke?”

You should be diplomatic. “I could ask you the same.” You’re not.

“I already told you,” Itachi shrugs.

“Well I...I don’t believe you.”

But you do. There’s no denying anymore that this man is who he claims to be and so, why would he lie about his purpose? The sad smile. The quiet mannerisms. The idea that Itachi would somehow transcend death to watch over his little brother? That’s a mysterious intricacy that fits with your memories of him from before that night.

“You do...but something else is bothering you.” It’s a statement, not a question. “Am I not what you expected?”

No, you’re not. However, he’s what you remember with a layer of sorrow added on top. He doesn’t get to be sad. The little spark of anger is what you need. You nurse it, feed it until it flares up hot and bright and consumes your regrets and self-pity.

“Expected? I don’t know what I expected from someone like you!” Your voice is rising, shaking with years of frustration. “Clan killer. Murderer. I never told anyone but I was in love with an Uchiha! That night, I’d gone to bed, finally sure that I was gonna tell him but when I woke up...” Something inside you had broken that day and it still hurts now. “They told me how you’d left Sasuke alive...but the boy I loved was gone and no one knew I was mourning. Each time I saw him -” you can’t hold back a strangled sound and you realize, you’re crying -”I saw the ghost of...” The bowl of floating vegetables looks blurry until you blink angrily. “Ugh! But what does a teenager know of love, right? They’ll grow up. Get over it. Except I knew you were out there still and that you had all the answers. Why? The Itachi I remember wasn’t a mindless monster! I was told a story, but it doesn’t make any sense. If all the monster wanted was power then why spare Sasuke? Why did everyone else have to die?”

The inhalations are shallow and rapid, making you dizzy as you cling to the table and the spoon. It burns in your lungs and cheeks.

“I am sorry for the pain, I’ve caused you.”

Your gaze snaps to his face and you know he’s speaking the truth but it doesn’t matter right now.

“Sorry? Sorry?! You don’t get to be sorry! I missed y-...the boy, I loved was gone and it took ages before I could let go and stop mourning, finally accepting the truth had died with you and now...now you’re here? And it’s all back and I don’t understand! How could you?” Itachi doesn’t flinch as you launch the bowl towards him – he doesn’t have to because your aim is off and it clatters to the floor in a shower of shards and wasted food after hitting the wall behind him. “How? The boy I loved was not a monster! He wouldn’t do what they s-”

The echoes of your wheezing shouts ring through the room after the abrupt stop. Holding your breath, you wait for the ground to swallow you whole or for the man at the other end of the table to react and the fear is colder than the burning in your chest.

“Things aren’t always what they seem,” Itachi eventually whispers, “they were just people who had been wronged and misguided until their arrogance made them blind.”

What? That’s not exactly what you had expected. Without explaining further, your captor gets up, handing you his bowl of food before beginning to clean the mess you’ve made.

“Don’t...I’ll get tha-” you begin.

He only has to look at you.

...

The dew had soaked your toes, cooling and soothing them after each kick that you landed on the wood stump. Pine. The new splinters refreshed the scent as they fell to the ground and you knew that birds would rummage through them in the hope of finding a morning snack once the training grounds were free of people again – they were already gathering at the edge of the clearing except for where Itachi stood.

The realization made you stop mid-kick, gaze locked with his and heart fluttering in your chest. How long had he stood there?

“They’re wrong.” You could barely believe he was talking to you. “Your teammates...don’t listen to what they say.”

Before you could ask what he meant, Itachi was gone and maybe it had all been your imagination running free.

...

Sitting up abruptly, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to get used to the low light of the dying embers. Where am I?

Salt and drying seaweed is heavy in the air, somehow worming its way into what appears to be yet another room of stone. No...it’s a cave. You’re sitting on a bedroll splayed out onto the sand filling the place and you have no memory of arriving.

The dark form on the other side of the fire pit makes no move as you slip a hand underneath your shirt to confirm what you already know: the bandages are gone and there’s only a muted tenderness as you prod at the ribs. How long has it been?

“You’re safe,” Itachi’s gentle voice assures, and you feel your pulse slow despite the ominous situation, “go back to sleep.”

Yes. Sleep...hang on! Shaking your head, you fight the urge to succumb to the fuzziness that weighs your thoughts. “Why’re you doing this?” you mumble.

It doesn’t make sense why the man wouldn’t simply get the answers he want and then dispose of you or at the very least leave you locked up somewhere while he keeps following Sasuke from the shadows. Instead, your captor has put an effort into keeping you comfortable. Feeding you.

“I remember you.” His eyes reflect the red coals as they burn into your soul all over again. “Memories don’t do your justice, though.”

...

There is no world beyond the walls of the garden but a red sheet of sky dotted with storm clouds. The sliding doors have been pushed aside, opening the hallway to the view, and you know the wood beneath your bare feet should be silky from decades of use. You can’t feel it. There are no scents either, no breeze to toy with the soft fabric of your yukata, nor insects clicking from the rhododendron.

“This isn’t real.”

“No,” Itachi confirms from behind you, “but here I can create what you need. Who you need.”

Turning at last, there’s no reason to shy away from meeting his gaze even if it matches the fake sky. He looks real – as opposed to the familiarity of the home of your childhood that surrounds the two of you – and the ghost of a smile kindly tries to hide the sadness.

“...need. For what?”

The black strands falling into his face are strangely dull in the nightmarish light. “Closure.”

“That’s not possible.”

Wanting to leave, to run away and avoid what Itachi intends, you find yourself rooted in place by an invisible force. Even turning your face away is impossible and you pray that he doesn’t understand the well of emotions he must be able to see in your eyes.

“This is a chance for you to say goodbye to the one I killed. The one you...love,” he pauses to scrutinize your expression and you try to remain neutral, “because you do. You still love him.”

“You have no right...” swallowing hard, you fight to keep the words back, “no right t-to claim to know what I need!” Finally, you manage to close your eyes but they snap open again at the touch of his fingertips on your forehead. “This isn’t something you get to fix like -”

...

The world has shifted again and you’re back in the ocean side cave. You can feel how uneven the sand is under your knees and shins even with the bedroll to soften the press and some some the grains have found their way in between your toes...but none of that matters because Itachi is still right before you, his fingers gently resting on your brow.

A pop-and-crackle from the fire pit is the only sound other than your shallow breathing. You know, he knows. Eyes widened in nigh-comedic understanding, it’s as if he sees you for the first time.

“I’m sorry, [Y/N].”

You barely manage to whisper, “for what?”

His fingertips send shivers along your spine as they trace a path, allowing him to cradle the back of your neck in his palm.

“Everything” Itachi’s lips brush your cheek, “for breaking your heart in so many ways and for making you think your love was unrequited.”

[melancholymetropolis]

Enemy

Prompt: Reader is secretly in love with Randall and gets heartbroken when she catches him kissing another girl. She sings a sad song about it.

A/N: This fic is combining both my love of Glee and The Order. 

Warnings:  A LOT OF ANGST, implied smut and curse words, sudden POV change (Unedited)

Words: 3300+

---------------

The ear-bleeding music seemed to slowly die down as the pounding of my heart replaced its significant impact. My brain was trying to differentiate what my eyes were capturing and what I was feeling. Although, I seemed to be doing a terrible job. 

Randall Carpio was lip-locked with some girl I had never seen before that day. He was. . . I didn't know what he was at that moment. I didn't consider him a boyfriend since we never had the appropriate conversation about it. Yet, he was more than a friend, since we had kissed a couple of times. Granted, the goal was to divert needy girls from sitting in his face. But, my heart was the warmest when we shared such intimate moments. How our tongues tangled long after the intended audience had left and we were always one minute away from racing to a secluded area. Desperately wanting to release the sexual tension that had been within us since we had met last semester. 

I guess I was the only one to feel those things. 

I released the breath that I had been holding and turned my back to the scene. I placed the red solo cups on the porch of the rundown home and walked away from the bustling party. I tried my best to conceal the tears welling up in my eyes and the tightness in my throat. I held myself together all the way until I  reached my apartment. 

The shock on my roommate's face was unexplainable as I crumbled into her arms and soiled her satin shirt with my teary mascara. 

I saw his face the very next day, at the student center. He was signing some form, probably for a missing key. Since Randall was a RA, he had to fill out at least 6 of those forms every Saturday morning. Looking out for freshmen was a tough job, but he did it with no complaints. I walked past him and cranked up the volume of my phone. I could feel his eyes on me, but I chose to ignore it. If he hadn’t been signing those forms, I knew he would’ve followed me. Or chased me down.

I walked to the makeshift computer station and tapped my ID on the printer's mount. The device made a loud 'beep' before spitting out several sheets of paper. I gathered the warm items into a pile and stapled them together. Instead of walking out the way I came in, I decided to go deeper into the building and take the back exit. It happened to be further away from the library, where my study group was waiting. But an extra minute of walking wouldn't hurt as much as facing him again.

I proceed to avoid Randall for the upcoming weeks. I dove myself into my studies, spending all my extra time getting ahead on classwork. And, when I got bored with that, I upped my crocheting skills. The temperature was rumored to drop to a cool fifty degrees next week and I didn't have a scarf. Less than seventy-two hours later, I had finished my scarf and began working on my hat. 

Janet, my roommate, had gotten worried that I turned into a grandma. So, she bribed me into leaving the apartment. 

"Come with me to this club meeting and I'll buy you dinner," she said as she plopped onto my bed.

I stopped in mid-row and looked over at her. "You're only doing this because you don't want to go alone."

"Maybe," she huffed. "But, we'd both be happy when the night is over. You'll get your precious tacos and I'll join a new club."

I rolled my eyes. I finished my row and set my unfinished project on my desk. "Let's go before I change my mind."

The air in the auditorium was alive and thriving. It wrapped around my body like a chilled hug and I never felt so calm. I took my time walking down the aisle to the main stage, absorbing the positive energy all around me. The spotlight was aimed towards the middle of the stage, where the group was huddled. Instruments lie, abandoned, near the back of the stage. Along with mic stands and sheets of music on the floor. One group member picks up a sheet of paper from the edge of the stage and locks eyes with me. He stands up straight and looks up at me. 

“I know you!” He shouts toward me.

I looked behind me and saw that there was no one there. “Me? Where do you know me from?”

“We partied together a couple of times,” he said I walked up the side steps of the stage. He paused a second to process the memories and wait for me to close the distance between us. A blush flashed against his face and scratched the side of his neck. “I tried to hit on you a few times, but you were always with that Randall guy.”

Hearing his name still made my heart stop. I tried to push my emotions back into their cave as I mustered the courage to speak again. “I—” My voice cracked with just one letter so I just bit my lip and shrugged. 

The familiar stranger seemed to have understood my silence and just carried on the conversation. “Well, I’m glad you could make it! We are kind of desperate for new members.”

I cleared my throat and looked down at the ground. “What’s this club about?”

“We’re like a glee club of sorts. We sing songs that describe the overall feel of the weeks prior,” he replied in an assertive tone. “Interestingly, we have been singing a lot of breakup songs lately. We actually reconsidered to rename the club ‘The Lonely Hearts Club’.”

I looked over at Janet and she gave me a sheepish grin. 

Before I could even call out to her, a new voice emerged from within the other bustling ones. 

“Okay, everyone! I am excited to announce that we have new members!” The voice cheered with pure joy, which radiated throughout the room. The owner of the voice, a young woman, walked over to me and smiled. “It’s a tradition for the new recruits to ‘audition’ to become official club members. You can either sing a duet—” she looked over at Janet. “Or a solo”, then back at me. “Whichever you feel is comfortable.”

“I think a duet—” I tried to say before being cut off.

“We’re gonna do solos,” Janet interjected. I threw her a harsh look, which she had completely ignored and continued on with her statement. “I have been wanting to play my version of ‘Toxic’ by Britney Spears for the longest time.”

“Great! We’ll get the stage set up, and you’ll be ready to go, yes?” The leader said with a hasty head nod. She looked back at me. “While she’s performing, try to figure out if you’ll be singing acapella or acoustic. We have tons of songs from our prior setlists if you want the band to back you.”

 The familiar stranger placed a binder into my hands and I almost doubled over by the sheer heft of the object. I departed from the stage and sat in the front row. I flipped through the pages, I saw various pop anthems and R&B baby-makers in the front collection. The further I went into the binder, the more breakup songs I encountered. The majority of them are Beyonce and Taylor Swift. A few from H.E.R and Bryson Tiller. I knew a few songs in their possession but none of them really hit home. Until I reached the last page. 

Jhene Aiko’s Triggered.

I had that song on repeat the very first week I started to avoid. . . him. Maybe it was an exaggeration of my feelings but it sure felt right. It captured the anger, the pain, and the longing so perfectly. Plus it wasn’t too much singing. I knew I wasn’t a Whitney Houston, but I could hold a note and remain in key. 

I looked closer at the lyrics and sheet music behind me. A voice inside of me wanted to do this without a band. I needed to do this alone. I had to rid myself of the feelings that kept gnawing on my insides, begging to escape. 

Janet killed it, per usual. She captivated her audience with her somber tone and gentle approach. A roar of applause flooded the auditorium. Almost making it hard to top that. I handed the binder back to the familiar stranger, Justin, and climbed on the stage. I looked down at all of the glee folk and gave a sheepish smile. 

“I will be singing Triggered by Jhene Aiko,” I said, mustering up all the confidence in my being. 

“Will you be using the band?” the club leader, Marie, asked.

“No, I would like to sing it acapella,” I replied with a shake of my head. “It’s something I need to get off of my chest.”

“Ooh! I am excited! Go for it!” She cheered before taking a seat in the audience.

I turned my back to the group and took a deep breath. I decided to leave the microphone on the stand just to allow the hollowed-out space project my voice for me. I took a step and just opened my mouth. 

“Go figure, you were the trigger,” I sang with the side of my being facing the crowd. “You brought me an obstructed view when you knew the picture was bigger”.

The chitter-chatter among the group dropped and all eyes were on me. 

I took another breath and carried on. “Who am I kidding, I knew from the beginning,” I paused. An image of Randall flashed in my mind and I could feel the emotions bubble up. I clenched my fists and shook my head. “I’m sorry. I just—.”  

“Unleash it,” Marie yelled from the crowd. “The pain you’ve been holding. You don’t need to pretend anymore. This is a safe space.”

The crowd yelled reassuring testaments from below and it made me chuckle.

“So, cry if you need to! We saw it all,” Justin added in. “And we all have felt exactly what you are feeling at this moment.”

The exchange made me feel comfortable and highlighted that we were all humans at the end of the day. No matter how hard we judge, we all will be or have been in a position that makes us feel so small. So insignificant. It was only human for us to feel.

I nodded. “I’m going to start again.”

I closed my eyes and allowed the words to spill from my lips. 

Go figure, you were the trigger.

You brought me to 

An obstructed view

When you knew the picture was bigger

I opened my eyes and gave a humorless laugh.

Who am I kidding?

Knew from the beginning.

I saw him kissing her; as if I were experiencing it all over again and all I could feel was anger.

You’d ruin everything

You do it every time.

You are my enemy,

You are no friend of mine.

Muhfucker...

I paused and ran my hands through my hair. I clasped my hand together to make a loud clap before pointing to an empty space on the stage. As if he was there with me.

You muhfucking right

You muhfucking right I’m triggered

You muhfucking right I’m bitter

You muhfucking right I...

I stopped in midpoint and gave a weak smile.

Wanna fuck you right now

The crowd “oohed” in the audience from the statement and gave me a few claps.

He heard her voice before he even entered the building. While jogging across the quad that night. It had been weeks since they had last spoken and he wished he knew the reason behind it. Every time he called, it went straight to voicemail. His texts never went through, and when they did, they were left with some written automated message. Randall had debated whether to stop by her dorm and question her about the sudden disappearance, but he respected her space. But, hearing her voice for the first time in a long time had done things to him. It made him reminisce about the old times they had back at the packhouse with the other wolves. The times where they’d sleep in his bed after a night of partying; limbs drunkenly tangled together and his head on her chest. Randall loved laying his head on her breasts. They were always so soft and inviting and smelled of flowers. 

Like a sailor lost at sea, he followed the sweet melodies of Y/N’s eerily beautiful voice. The young man made his way to the auditorium before he had a chance to turn back. And he was thankful he hadn’t. She was like a siren in a pool of auburn water. The spotlight made it seem as though she was glowing. Highlighting the parts of her he found most gorgeous. Randall had taken so much time just staring at her that he shocked at the amount of sadness the lyrics offered. 

Tryna let the time go by

Tryna let the time heal all

Tryna let the time kill all

Of our memories

All you meant to me

All that history

All that's history

I'll calm down eventually

Why was she singing such a sad song? Who was this song dedicated to? He pondered the possibilities of anyone that could perhaps make her feel this heartbroken. Was Y/N going through a break-up? Who’s ass did he need to beat?

I'm triggered when I see your face

Triggered, when I hear your name

Triggered, I am not okay (yeah)

You need to stay out of my way

Suddenly the singing stopped and a sole tear rolled down her face. Y/N wiped it away and mumbled the last lyric about three more times before the audience rose from their seats and clapped. Multiple peopled raced to the stage and gave her a warm embrace and Randall watched as the tears continue to flood her face. 

“I should kick Randall’s ass for making you feel that way,” a familiar voice—  Janet—  said in the depth of the group. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“I have no idea who he is, but fuck him!” A different voice chimed in. “Men are trash—”  

The men in the group made an unsatisfactory sound. 

“Current company excluded.”

Y/N smiled and whipped her tears. “Randall’s not trash, he just...” She paused for a moment to think. “Isn’t what I thought he was.”

“And what would that be?” Randall shouted from the doorway of the auditorium.

All the heads in the room snapped in his direction and he could hear Y/N’s heart stop for just a millisecond. As he walked down the aisle, Randall’s ears grew accustomed to her increasing heartbeat. He memorized the sound after all the nights he spent with his head against her breasts, but he hadn’t heard it beat that fast. Ever. It scared him. 

Upon walking to the stage, Randall watched as the group parted—  like the red sea—  Y/N. His favorite girl. No longer the fierce siren he saw while she was performing. Her mascara smudged underneath her eyes and her lip gloss dripped to her chin. But, it hadn’t mattered to Randall. She could walk through a hurricane and he’d still see the beauty within her. 

“Why are you here?” She asked as she walked down the stairs.

“You’re such a good performer! I was completely captivated by your stage presence—” Randall found himself spilling before realizing it. 

“Can you just not. . . be yourself for one minute and be serious?” Y/N said in a frustrated tone.

It was true. She was mad at him. 

“I must’ve really fucked up if you can’t take my silliness,” he mumbled to himself. Suddenly a little self-conscious, Randall looked at the group of people that had obviously been eavesdropping on the situation. He looked back at his girl and gripped her hand. “Can we talk in somewhere private, please?”

Y/N sighed and gave him a nod. 

Randall pulled her out of the auditorium and into the vacant corridor. 

“Look, I—” He cut her off with an embrace. Hands around her waist and nose in her hair. She smelled like cinnamon and sugar. But, it wasn’t the artificial kind that came in a spray bottle, no. It was the smell of freshly baked buns and the wafty aroma that scattered across the roll while they cooled. “Randall, what are you—”

“Just tell me what I did, so I could never do it again,” he squeezed her body closer to his and pressed a cheek to her head.  “Being away from you for that long is something I refuse to do again. I tried my best to give you your space but it pained me. . . Tell me what to do.”

Y/N’s heartbeat slowed to its normal pace as she released a shaky breath. “I saw you kiss some girl at the party.”

His body tensed. She saw him kissing Ashley? The girl was just some drunken sorority chick that stumbled across the party. Randall had won a game of beer pong and she followed him outside to give him a ‘reward’. He hated the kiss if he could even call it that. It felt like Randall was desperately trying not to choke on her tongue. He shivered at the war flashback.

“This may sound lame, but she really did kiss me,” Randall replied. “I didn’t want to come across as rude, so I just let it happen. I wish I hadn’t though. She was such a bad kisser. Like oh my god, so bad. I drool all over my shirt and everything”

She giggled. “That’s disgusting.”

“It was worse than you think,” Randall grimaced before pulling away to face Y/N. “I am sorry that I hurt you so bad that I forced you into isolation. I would never hurt you on purpose, you know that, right?”

She looked up at him with wide eyes. “I know that now.”

Randall placed a hand on her cheek and gave her a longing look. “Do you, also, know how much I love you, Y/N?”

“. . . What?”

Randall pressed his lips against hers for a steamy kiss. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck quickly as she stood on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. He dropped his hand from her face and gathered her legs in his hands. He lifted her up with ease and pressed her against the wall. She groaned against his lips and arched her back, further pressing their bodies together. Y/N braided her fingers in his hair and tighten her legs around his waist. The pent up frustration from the overall situation had quickly become sexual and they were seconds from ripping each other’s clothes off.

The sound of a door closing brought her back to reality and Y/N pulled away from his lips. Just for him to attack her neck.

“Randall, we have to stop now,” she struggled to stop the moans from slipping from her lips. Y/N craned her neck to the side and tugged on the rooks of his hair. She jerked his head away from her neck and narrowed her eyes. “I mean it, Randall.”

“You’re no fun,” he pouted.

“I am not trying to have our first time in a hallway, Randall,” she hissed.

“But, it would be so risque,” he pouted even more. “The thrill is getting caught is so intoxicating.”

“But getting expelled isn’t,” Y/N rolled her eyes. “Can you put me down now?”

“So you are just gonna leave me all hot and bothered?” Randall said in blatant shock. 

“I was going to suggest your dorm room, but since you suggested leaving—! Ah!”

Randall slung Y/N over his shoulder and jogged through the hall. “I take it back! Come on, we don’t have any time to waste!”

[ihatecoconut]

Red (In My Ledger)

Cross posted to AO3

Her hand was around someone’s throat. She had no memory of how that came to be but the feeling of someone’s bones and muscles collapsing under her metal hand was familiar enough that she didn’t even think about it, just squeezed harder.

“Good, Soldat.” A voice that was also familiar, familiar in the way it inspired fear in her and familiar in the way that she knew exactly what it wanted.

Her fingers cracked slightly, the metal a little misshapen from how hard she was squeezing. Their throat should have collapsed long ago under this pressure. Confusion outweighed her fear of not following the rules and she looked down at the face attached to the throat. Familiar.

“Be…Beck…”

She could feel his throat working to get the word out, hear the way his breath rattled in his chest- had she hurt him before this? Had he put up a fight? It didn’t matter, blood was starting to spill around her hand, another familiar feeling.

“Beck…” The boy whispered again, his hands coming up to gently close around her metal one, “please…”

AJ’s face snapped into a startling clarity all of a sudden, his warm brown eyes, the scar on his chin that he had got long before she met him, the slight shine of the light on his contact lenses. She released his throat immediately, bringing her other hand- the human hand- up to try and stop the bleeding but it was too late. Warm blood spilled over both her hands and his favourite Falcon t-shirt as his body collapsed to the floor.

“Soldat!” The same voice as before snapped, angry, but her fear of him was utterly overwhelmed by the horror at what she had just done.

“AJ?” Her voice cracked, rough from disuse. “AJ?” It pitched slightly with panic. She couldn’t have killed him, couldn’t have slipped back into the well-known role so much that she didn’t recognise him… could she?

A hand fisted in her ponytail, yanking her head back and then her entire body away from where AJ lay. It didn’t matter, she could still feel his blood coating her hands, making them sticky. She hadn’t vomited at the sight of blood since she was younger than she could remember, but the tacky feeling of his blood drying on her skin brought up a wave of revulsion so strong that she coughed up the meagre breakfast they had given her.

“The next one.” The voice commanded, releasing her finally and unexpectedly.

Her knees hit the cold stone floor and she raised her head to look up at the next victim they had picked out for her.

Sarah.

Sarah was bound, gagged and immobile but none of that could have removed the utter hatred that spilled out from her eyes, red hot and furious. Her face was twisted up, as if Beck was the worst thing she had ever laid eyes on and somehow that, not anything else, was what woke her up.

 Beck didn’t sit up suddenly when she woke, not like she had seen Bucky and Sam do when waking from nightmares. Too much of her was still conditioned to wake in the tiny bunk- box, really- that Hydra had locked her in every night. Instead, she woke on her side with a gasp, eyes opening to the semi-dark room and her body jolting as if her soul had just been thrust back into it. She sat up then.

Her right hand shook furiously as she managed to find the controls, managed to remove the metal arm, and hurl it across the room. It hit the bookshelf with a clang and did nothing to make her feel better.

“Rebecca Wilson,” she whispered to herself, “I am Rebecca Wilson, and I am in my bedroom at Sarah’s house…” the memory of Sarah’s hatred flung itself back into her brain and the careful grounding words that her therapist had taught her weren’t enough.

She unwrapped herself from the duvet and rolled off the bed. It took her a few seconds to adjust to the new centre of gravity, the lack of weight on her left side, but once she had, she slipped out of her room- only opening the door enough to let herself out- and padded across the house to AJ’s room.

He was lying, sprawled out on his bed, mouth open and snoring slightly, a gentle noise that let her know he was still breathing, still alive. She leaned against the doorframe for a few moments, watching her cousin sleep, her one arm wrapped around her stomach. He was alive. No one hated her.

After a few moments, however, that wasn’t enough either, and she ventured further into the room, grateful for her improved vision that meant she didn’t need to turn a light on. The skin of his throat was smooth and unmarred, no signs that anyone had tried to hurt him at any point and the relief released in her chest like a warm sip of soup.

Footsteps stopped behind her, outside his room and she turned to see Bucky, also one-armed, watching her.

“Hi.”

“Hey,” he held out his hand and she let him tug her out of AJ’s bedroom and back onto the landing, “nightmare?”

Beck nodded, watching AJ’s sleeping form as he shut the door behind them both.

“C’mon.” Bucky wrapped his arm around her shoulder and steered them both towards the kitchen.

She sat down on one of the chairs, watching as he rummaged around in the cupboards and fridge for a few moments, before coming up with a saucepan, milk and some spices. The sound of the stove crackling gently after he lit it and the following smell of warming milk was more soothing than she would have expected and that, paired with the fact that he had his back to her, calmly there but not pushing, let her speak about the dream.

“There was a training exercise that he used to make me do. He’d put someone in a room and I had to kill them by crushing their throat.”

Bucky hummed, listening but not interrupting as he uncapped some of the spices and added them to the milk.

“It should have been easy, I thought it would be the first time but he was trying to teach me that nobody fights harder than those who know they’re about to die. He’d tell them before letting me in the room and then just stand back and watch.”

The aroma of cinnamon filled the room, smelling like Sarah’s hugs felt.

“Eventually it just became routine, every few days he would do that and I stopped thinking about it, just killed them.”

A mug of spiced milk was slid across the table towards her and she wrapped her hand around it, soaking up the warmth.

“It was always so cold in there.”

“I know.”

And he did, he did know the way that sometimes the cold could settle into her even on the warmest days, pushing her to wrap up in an insane amount of blankets until she was sweating.

She looked down at the mug. “You were brainwashed. Controlled and forced to do what you did. I just did it…” Unexpectedly tears were forming in her eyes and the guilt that she had once thought she would never feel was rearing its head furiously.

“Hey,” he bumped a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at him, “you were forced to do it as well. You didn’t know any different.”

“But…”

“Ah…” he held up a finger, “you remember that court case a few years back? Where they had whole hosts of professional people in?”

Her own court case, where it was decided whether or not she would be prosecuted for the crimes she had committed. “Yes…”

“What did they decide? What was the closing statement?”

She looked down at the milk again. I am Rebecca Wilson. I am in the kitchen at home. I am loved, I am valued and I have worth. “Indoctrination is a form of brainwashing.”

“And?”

“If I had never been shown any other behaviour patterns, then no one could expect me to act normally.”

Fingers tapped lightly on the table next to her, prompting her to look up again. “And?”

She sighed. “And I was as much a victim as those who died.”

“Exactly.”

It was still dark outside when she looked away from him and towards the window. The odd colour of the darkness reminded her of how blood had looked on the floor of that room after it had dried.

“I was back there.” She told him. “In that room and I didn’t even stop to question anything, just did what I always do and then I realised he was speaking to me, could feel his throat moving against my hand, and I looked down and it was AJ.” She paused to take in a shuddering breath. “I tried to stop but it was too late and then I looked up at the next one and it was Sarah and she… she hates me.”

“In the dream, she hated you.” Bucky corrected gently. “It wasn’t real.”

“It felt real.”

“I know.”

“What if I do that?” She found herself asking. “What if I do hurt or kill AJ?”

“You won’t.” Bucky told her. “Even if you tried.”

“I know all his manoeuvres! I know how he fights!” The panic was pitching her voice higher again and he didn’t respond immediately, just rubbed his hand over hers until she calmed down again.

“I think you’re failing to realise that it goes both ways.”

“What?”

“He knows all your manoeuvres, he knows how you fight, he knows how high he needs to get before you can’t reach him but can still hear him and he wouldn’t just roll over and let you hurt him. You know this.”

“You’d all hate me, though, even if I failed.” She fixed her eyes on the milk again, unable to look up at whatever expression he had in response to that.

Bucky hummed slightly, “Before I moved here, I lived in Brooklyn.”

Beck raised her head to look at him, the confusion visible on her face, but he continued.

“I made a friend. His name was Yori Nakajima and we went out to the same restaurant every Wednesday. I killed his son. While I was the Winter Soldier, he was just a kid, probably not even twenty yet and he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time so he died.”

The confusion had slipped from her face, replaced with the weird understanding that the two of them only shared with each other.

“I didn’t even realise the connection until after I had befriended him, saw the photo of his son in his apartment.”

“Did you tell him?”

Bucky sighed, a noise bordering on a sad laugh. “Not for a while. At first I thought that if I was just his friend, maybe that would help him but it didn’t.” He looked up at her, gentle. “Yori needed closure and it took your dad to help me realise that, so I went back to Brooklyn and I told him and he asked me to leave.”

Beck made a miserable little noise in the back of her throat. “That’s it?”

He leaned back and looked at her. “I didn’t hear from him for a year and a half. We got you in that time, moved in here, went back into missions, employed by SHIELD, and then I heard from him.”

“What did he say?”

“Thank you. He thanked me for giving him that closure and he told me that the year and a half he spent thinking made him realise what I was trying to do and then he invited me out to our restaurant again.”

“Why?”

“Because everyone has the capacity to forgive.” He shrugged. “It’s not the same as it was, but I can see that he’s lighter now, he’s lost that weight that he was carrying around.”

“I don’t understand.”

Bucky leaned forwards to take her now empty mug and dropped them both in the sink. “AJ isn’t Yori’s son. He isn’t a young man in the wrong place at the wrong time, he is someone who has chosen to put himself in those situations, but it would cause the same pain to Sarah as it did to Yori.”

“You think that she would forgive me?”

“Maybe. Eventually. I would, Sam would and I think Cass probably would as well.” He held out a hand and pulled her up from the chair. “You ready to go back to bed?”

Outside, the dawn was slowly creeping in, wiping away the odd blackness that the night covered everyone in. The first rays of sun were starting to peek over the horizon.

“Yeah. I’m ready.”

[bbhyeoliskooks]

... 𝑰𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝑨𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓...

➶ TXT’s Reaction to you Having a Nightmare

꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱

Genre: Mostly 10 lbs. of fluff and 3 tablespoons of angst ~~

Warnings: A tiny tiny tiny mention about past harrassment + yeonbin drowning in a dream!

Song: Nap of a Star

(This is a whole scenario in itself damn. I mayhaps got carried away while writing this!! Why isn’t yeonjun’s gif working istg 🗿🗿)

꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱

꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱

*;ﾟYeonjun *;ﾟ

You arose that night with a start. The thunderstorm clapped violently outside your house, and it thankfully woke you up from the nightmare you were having. When you tried to take a breath of air, but it was even hard to exhale. You were having a sleepover with the boys, so that made it even worse. 

There was a bead of sweat trickling down your forehead as you recalled the events in that terrifying place. You tried to talk Yeonjun in that dream, but he eventually left you alone in that dark room. You wanted to get out of that room that was suffocating you, but no matter how many times you screamed and shouted, nothing or no one would help you.

It corresponded with one of your insecurities. What if everyone left you once they saw the real you? What if they would all leave you because you weren’t useful to them anymore? Were you ever good enough to attract anybody else once they left you? You could feel prickles on your back as tears welled up in your eyes. 

Yeonjun was still awake at this time, almost 4am. He sent Hyuka off to sleep once 3 passed. He was scared that the boy’s sleep schedule would be wrecked because of him, so he sent him off before they got carried away.

He heard someone taking copious amounts of breath in. He raised an eyebrow at this and looked over at the sleeping bags. Who else would be awake at this hour? None of the boys were awake, so he just shrugged. 

Then he looked at your bed, and almost dropped the remote control in shock. Why were you awake so early? He took notice of you ragged breaths and the sweat dripping off your forehead. He cleared his throat and took a few cautious steps toward you. “Y/N? Are you okay?”

“J-junie... I’m scared..” The way you said his name was enough to make him sit on the edge of your bed. “Did you have a nightmare? We can talk about it, if you need to.” 

You nodded slowly, and looked down at your scrunched up feet. “What if everybody left me, Yeonjun? I know I’m not good enough, but I’m afraid.” Your cries eventually got louder, but not enough to wake anyone up.

He shuffled towards you with a pout on his face. He knew you never called him by his actual name unless it was important. “Hey love, it’s okay! You are more than good enough. If everyone leaves you, then I will still be here to hold you. I’m your best friend, right?” He stretched his loving arms out for you.

You fell into his embrace, leaning against his chest. It was your safe place, one where you always went something was troubling you. “Thank you, Jjunie. I’m so grateful that you’re always here for me.”

He smiled and sang softly into your ear so you would have sweet dreams. You soon fell asleep despite your protests to hear his wonderful voice. He looked down, seeing your eyes finally close. You were snoring against his body while he laid down next to you.

He felt something flutter inside of him when he saw your hair fan across your face. He chuckled quietly before tucking it under your ear. You were so cute up close! He couldn’t help but gently stroke your cheek with love and care.

A feeling grew stronger in his chest. A best friend, huh? That’s what he said, but why does he feel something special? Why is a growing desire to be with you resonate in his mind whenever he sees you? He realized as the feeling of sleepiness washed over him that he was inevitably falling in love with you. 

꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱

*;ﾟSoobin *;ﾟ

You kept running as hard as your legs could carry you, but why weren’t you gaining speed? You wanted to ran as fast as you could in that devilish place, away from the blob of temptation. If it touched any part of you, it would harm your soul. If it caught you, then you wouldn’t be able to get out of that misery. If it devoured you, then there was no going back.

You looked behind you as there were no sounds. Letting out a sigh of relief, you let your guard down and stopped running. You were safe now! That’s what you believed.

Then you whipped your head forward. What you didn’t know was that, that same blob of temptation was in front of you. It consumed you as you let out screams and shouts of pain, holding you in its canine-like teeth. You couldn’t do anything but feel the pain over and over again.

“Y/N? Wake up, please!” 3 minutes ago, Soobin noticed that you were twisting and turning violently in your sleep while muttering a string of no’s. You were in his bed sleeping while he was playing mobile games. He was confused by your mutters and peered into your face. It was scrunched up in torment. He got worried real quickly since you were his best friend, and woke you up without any hesitation.

You got up with a scream, trying to cover yourself in a swarm of blankets. Once you realized that you were in the real world, you clung to your knees and sobbed like there was no tomorrow. What if you dreamed that again? You were afraid that you would experience more horror in this reoccuring nightmare.

“Y/N...” you didn’t hear Soobin’s whispers of attempts to calm you down while you cried in his bed. He never saw you this way unless you two were watching a sad love story. Then it popped into his head.

He recognized the signs that you had a nightmare of something chasing you. He had been through it with you before only to let you cry against his shoulder. He too, was paralyzed when he heard your cries about the dreams.

Soobin leaned towards you with distress etched in his features. He desperately wanted to help you, to at least be in your dreams so you could fight it together. He threw his arms around you with a frown on his face.

“I’m here, love. I’m here. You can cry it all out.” The one thing he hated the most was when you were crying. He wanted you to be happy, so no slice of sadness would mess with you.

Being in his arms was the warmest feeling in your world. You loved to be near his saccharine colonge that he applied just because he knew you like it. You wanted to just cuddle him for a day without any worries of being his best friend. You wanted something more.

Soobim realized that you were no longer crying once you got into his arms. He chuckled at this cute fact and played with the strands of your hair. “Feeling better?” You nodded, not saying anything while he dried the tears on your cheeks.

You looked up at him with a small grin. He returned the gesture as his adorable dimple peeked out. “You need anything?” You shook your head, and clung tighter to his arm. “No. Just- thank you, Soobin. For everything.”

His eyes scrunched up and he booped the end of your nose with his french fry finger. “I should be thanking you, love. You’ve given me everything I’ve wanted.” He leaned towards your forehead to give you a kiss there, but you covered his lips with your hand.

He pouted and looked down at your rejection as you snickered. “Let me do it this time. You’ve done it so many times already.”

Before he could protest, he felt something soft on his forehead. He relished in the tenderness of it, closing his eyes in awe. It was like an angel had pressed their wings against his head. He suppressed the urge to groan when you pulled away.

You giggled at his reaction and teased him. “Why? You want more?” He glared at you, “no.” Your face fell and you did your best to smile back at him. “Ok-“ “are you kidding me? Of course I want more of you!” He boldly grabbed you by the waist, and this time placed a passionate kiss on your lips.

Let’s just say that you were more than friends after that night.

꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱

*;ﾟBeomgyu *;ﾟ

Quickly dialing Beomgyu, you held your tears in so the painful lump in your throat wouldn’t appear again. You tried your best not to call him as he was at your house yesterday. You knew he was still awake, but you didn’t want to bother him again. He texted you 18 minutes ago that he was still awake and would be active for quite a while if you wanted to contact him.

You had yet another nightmare for the 4th time that week. It was one where you revisited your past over and over again. Your childhood was anything but easy, and hell you didn’t want to go through it again. But why did it keep occuring after all this time? Why didn’t it just go away for once and for all?

Your heart stung as you recalled the events from that dream. You couldn’t do anything but fight helplessly and watch as the person touched you in places that were private and too personal. It was more than 10 years ago, but you couldn’t get rid of it! It was just a thought pushed way back into your head until you somehow brought it up again.

You felt foolish as you cried into the palms of your hands. You were calling the only person who would help you, but what if was annoyed? What if didn’t want to be your best friend anymore because you were so annoying? Why weren’t you ever good enough?

Beomgyu entered the house upon hearing your cries. He used the emergency key you gave him just in case to go into your locked room. He was disheartened when he saw you hiding and sobbing in the covers as if someone would hurt you.

“My princess/prince... I’m here- I got here as fast as I could.” He dashed to the bed to embrace you, but you looked down instead. He was confused by the dismissal, and muttered a muffled what.

You just stared at your hands, and sniffled. You were too embarrassed to look at him in the eye. “I’m sorry for being annoying, Gyu. You can leave if you want to. I don’t understand how you even like me like this.”

He was baffled. Why would you ever think of yourself like that? You weren’t annoying, you never were! Usually, he was the clingy, troublesome one.

He kneeled behind you and hugged you willingly while pressing soft butterfly kisses on your cheek. He examined your innocent eyes. When he saw pain in them, he pouted his lips and layed his head on your shoulder without letting go.

“I know I’m not usually like this, but sweetpea! You’re very precious to me. I love seeing your smiles, frowns, and even your adorable nose that you don’t like. I love holding you in these arms because I know I can protect you like this. I want to be lay to you at night so I can be in your dreams.” The boy turned you around slowly so he could face your eyes while confessing what he thought of you.

He made you look at him with a grasp of your chin. You gasped and guiltily looked at his lips before looking at his caramel eyes. “Did you know that? I love you so much-morethanafriend. So, please don’t assume that you-“ he stopped talking and caught his breath. “Did I just confess?!”

You chuckled and Beomgyu beamed. He made you smile again! He was mesmerized by your watering eyes while smiling happily. They said that making a person laugh after crying was one of the most beautiful things in the world, but he had to disagree. He knew that you were the only pretty one that could make his heart pound.

“Y/N... you’re smiling again!” He was taken aback when you enthusiastically wrapped your arms around him. You took in the scent of his cologne and grinned. “Yes, I am, you big dummy!! Thank you for making me smile despite how scared I was earlier. And... you know what?”

You pulled away and cupped his blushing cheek. He smirked at you, getting rid of the flustered expression, “what is it, sweetpea?” “I can proudly say that I love you too.” You connected the gap between you and Beomgyu.

At that point, you realized that you would be able to spend the rest of your lonely nights with him.

꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱

*;ﾟTaehyun *;ﾟ

"Y/N? Where are you?” Taehyun pursed his lips as he searched around your house for any signs of you. Where could you possibly be? He rung the doorbell earlier, but nobody answered. Normally you would be hanging out with him every week and watch movies together.

He was appalled when he found out that the front door was unlocked. He knew that you valued safety before anything else, so he worried that something dangerous may have happened to you. Were you kidnapped? He could feel his heart heavily drop into his stomach. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if you got hurt.

Lastly, he rounded to the bathroom with a grain of hope. He tired to be as optimistic as always, but with the house being dead silent, he couldn’t bring himself to think a positive outcome. He looked down at the tiles and almost screamed. “Y/N...?”

He realized that the slump of a body on the floor was you. You let out hushed whimpers so- as he assumed, that you didn’t want anyone to hear you crying. Your hair was covering your face in a way that made Taehyun shudder, but he paid no mind to it and kneeled down beside you.

“What’s wrong? Why wasn’t the door locked?” He stood on one knee while you hastily tried to hide your tears. “Oh, Taehyun? You’re here? I’m sorry, I didn’t realize the time.” He noticed that your eyes were red and puffy, making him believe that you had been letting out tears for a long time.

He looked down into your ashamed eyes, and laced his hand with yours. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. i’ve never seen you like this, and I’m worried. Didn’t you remind me to never hide my feelings?” His voice was soft and gentle as he was nervous that you would inch away from him.

You couldn’t look at him in the eye. You were afraid he was going to judge you if you told him the reason why. He would laugh at you once you revealed your tiny secret.

Taehyun blew your hair away and tightened his grip on your hand. “You don’t have to tell, I know. But I want to help you. I want to see you smile again.” He cringed, thinking of his words. He wasn’t the type to be affectionate, but he wouldn’t hesitate to do again just because it was you.

You sniffled, feeling rain gather in your eyes. “Promise you won’t laugh at me?” He nodded silently, showing his pinky finger with the other hand. You looked down at your fingers that were intertwined and sighed. “I had a nightmare.”

He tenderly smiled at you, slowly encouraging you to keep going. “The nightmare was that you- you...” He was amused now, bending down to hear you whisper. “I, what?”

You stood up after a couple of minutes, dismissing the idea. “It was nothing, Hyun. How about we go to the couch now? I’m bored.” He let out a small groan and went to hug you from the back. Maybe this was the only time he would be clingy like this.

“Y/N, pretty please?” He hated doing it, but he gave you the puppy dog eyes. Being cute was not his style. 

You furrowed your eyebrows at his attempt at being cute, but it was still adorable anyway. You wrapped your arms around his, and snarled. If you told him what bothered you, then you would destroy your friendship! You had no choice but to tell the truth. If you lied, he would see through you without a doubt.

“Fine, Kang Taehyun. You’re really asking for it, aren’t you?” He laughed at the tone of your words while your heart sped up every second. “Taehyun... my dream was about another girl that confessed to you. You liked her too, but you never paid any attention to me anymore. I felt abandoned, and I never want that to happen. I can’t help but fall in love with you even harder than the day before.”

꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱

*;ﾟKai *;ﾟ

Hyuka was still awake when he noticed that you were tossing and turning in your sleep. It was almost 4 in the morning, but he couldn’t fall asleep. So, he decided to just scroll mindlessly on his phone and look at the fan’s posts. He didn’t think anything of it for a while until you clung into his arm while letting tears drip from your eye.

It was a normal routine for you two to share the same bed. He liked to give you belly rubs before you drifted off to sleep. He loved that he could cuddle you whenever he had a hard time falling asleep himself. 

He almost screamed as he was checking your face. You opened your eyes when he caressed your cheek. Was he the reason you woke up, or something else?

“Hyuka? W-what time is it?” He could see that your lips were trembling and that you were shaking like a leaf. He grew concerned because you didn’t do that unless you were scared. 

He scooted towards you and looked at his phone. “It’s 3:48am. Why did you wake up so early?” You avidly shook your head and reached to grab the pillow beside you. “Nothing. Why are you still up this late?”

The boy pouted and threw the pillow you were holding onto the floor. He took its place and you jokingly tugged on his hair. “Y/n~ Why did you wake up? I know it isn’t because of me since you’re shaking and holding your breath.”

He was right. You let go of the breath you were holding and laid down beside him. “I had a nightmare. I wasn’t able to save anyone.” You hoped that he wouldn’t say anything about it. There was no chance that he wouldn’t, being the stubborn person he is.

He glanced into your direction, able to see the subtle fear in your eyes. “What do you mean?” You knew deep down that he would push the subject. “We were at a beach, and there was a storm coming along. The boys including you, went to swim in the ocean despite the warnings. I was so scared for all of you when you didn’t come out.”

You knew he was still listening as he remained silent. “I went inside. I saw Yeonjun and Soobin who were no longer able to swim out of the water. I almost inhaled a ton of water too until I saw you. Your honeyed eyes were gray, but you had a speck of life in them.”

You turned away from him and gazed at the nightlight next to the bathroom door. “You were saving your last breaths but when you saw me, you told me you loved me more than anything. I couldn’t even tell you I felt the same way because the waves carried you away from me. Then you were gone, and I woke up.”

It was strange. You wanted to jump out of the window right then and there, but you wanted to hear him say something. Even if it was a rejection. All you needed was an answer.

“Kai..? Are you going to say something?” He was blankly staring into the darkness before he grinned from ear to ear. “Y/N. You don’t know how long I wanted you to say something like that.”

You faced him, perplexed at his words. “What do you mean? Are you saying that, you like me too?” He took one of the pillows beside you before hitting you with it jokingly. “Yes, silly! I have had a crush on you for the longest time.”

His cheeks were dusted red and his ears were colored like a cherry. “Please, be mine?” Your heart was going to explode at this rate if you didn’t accept the fact that he liked you the same way. You were sure that you looked like a tomato even if you couldn’t see yourself.

You hugged him as an answer. It took more than words to say that you loved him too.

꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱꒰·͡ुˑ·ཻू꒱*̫ෆ๋*̫꒰•ི̫͡ુ•ྀૂ꒱

Posted: 6/25/20- Added to Queue

Tags:

[calmlftv]

4 a.m. - m.c. blurb

description: a fight brings you out on a late night drive, and forgiveness finds its way to you. 

word count: 1.7k

warnings: VERY brief scenes/flashbacks involving yelling/hurtful words, a lil bit of angst but a happy ending 

w/n: i wrote this while feeling some things during lockdown so pls enjoy! 💕

taglist: @spicycal @castaway-cashton @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​ @notinthesameguey​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @ashtonsos​ @loveroflrh​ @bestyearssos​ @treatallwithkindness​ @bestyearslftv​

****

“What did you just say to me?”

You winced, the painful sting of Michael’s words hitting you again as you pressed your foot against the gas pedal, shooting down the road your home was on as you escaped the mess you had left behind. The way Michael’s voice deepened as his volume rose stuck with you, his words making your ears ring as you had fought back tears, silently grabbing your keys and slamming the door on your way out. 

The night air was much colder than you had expected but you left your windows down anyway, the chilly air drying the tears as they fell from your face. Your car was deadly silent, the only sound being the wind whipping through your windows as it covered the sounds of your sobs that shook your entire body, the heaves in your chest making your lungs ache as you wept over your steering wheel. 

It had been obvious from the way Michael stomped around the house that he was upset, the more obvious sign of him locking his office door after you had gone in to bring him lunch only solidifying the thought in your mind as you sighed. Throughout the day you still tried to reach out to him, texting him to ask if he wanted tea or to play a game together to try and cheer him up, only to be left on read every time, a frustrated sigh escaping you as you finally just left him alone. He only appeared again when you were cleaning up from making dinner, the shuffling of his feet against the floor alerting you to his presence. When you demanded a reason for his mood he snapped, voice rising as he looked at you. It only got worse from there, the two of you screaming at each other until your throats were raw and you were on the verge of tears, leading up to this very moment where you pulled off the road and followed the lightly made tire tracks to your look out. 

When you got out of your car you leaned against the door, your eyes taking in the sight of the city lights cutting through the darkness, the neons meeting your eyes as you stood up straight and closed your door, settling on the hood of your car as you tucked your knees against your chest. You wrapped your arms around your legs as you just sat there, staring blankly at the city as you lost yourself in thought once again. 

Michael’s face was tinted pinkish red, eyes bloodshot behind the black rims of his glasses. His jaw was clenched and locked, the muscles moving as his hands tugged on the hem of his shirt, the fabric bunching up when he released it and repeated the action. You could tell he wasn’t going to stand down so you took a breath, hands flat against the cool countertop as you exhaled. 

“Michael just tell me what’s wrong-” 

“Why, so you can be overbearing like always?” He snapped, his voice low now as his shirt went slack again. “Stop trying to fix me, y/n, I’m not some broken project you can piece back together!” 

You felt an angry blush cover your cheeks, the feeling moving down your chest and over your body as you spoke, tone sharp and voice loud. “I’m not trying to fix you, asshole, I’m trying to fucking help! I’m your girlfriend, I’m allowed to be worried-”

“I never fucking asked you to worry about me!” He yelled, spit flying from his mouth. “Jesus Christ, you’re just as bad as-”

“What did you just say to me?” 

Pain radiated through your body, the ache in your chest returning as you let out another sob. Your face buried against your knees, hating the words you said to him and the ones he said to you, resenting the way your voice shook and rose as you got more and more upset. Your fights were always few and far between, but when they happened they were a messy explosion of emotions, typically ending with the two of you tangled under the sheets of your shared bed as you owned up to your mistakes and gained forgiveness. 

This time, though, there was something different radiating from the two of you; maybe it was the stress of the lockdown order getting to you, maybe the amount of time you’ve been forced to spend together was finally taking its toll. Maybe a mix of both, along with the stress of working from home and whatever else could be affecting your love as he was forced to stay away from his friends and family. You knew this was taking a toll on both of you, but you didn’t know it could get worse like this. 

You were pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a car door closing, the sound startling you as you quickly wiped the tears from your eyes. Familiar footsteps came up from behind you as you stared ahead, refusing to look at this person joining you. 

“This spots kinda sketch,” a soft voice stated, the phrase being something you’ve heard hundreds of times as Michael walked up beside you, his hands in his pockets as he stood next to your car. The headlights from his Tesla were still shining over you, washing everything in a yellowish tint as it disturbed the pitch darkness around you. 

Silence enveloped the two of you as you didn’t answer, still not looking at Michael as he sighed. You sensed movement as he lifted a hand and scratched the back of his neck, his hands tugging down his sweater sleeves until they rested over his palms. He always hated colder nights, a very miniscule pang of sadness hitting you until you brushed it off. 

“Petal,” he said softly, his eyes trained on you as you just stared ahead. His heart broke into a million tiny pieces when he saw your puffy eyes, knowing he was the cause of the tear stains on your shirt and jeans and the numb feeling on your shoulders. 

He quietly climbed on the hood with you, leaving space between you as he settled in. It was quiet again, this time for much longer as he joined you in looking over the city, the sounds of the night surrounding you both in the warmest hug despite the obvious chill. 

“I’m sorry,” Michael stated, voice a bit shaky now as he took a breath. “I crossed a line and...projected my feelings about everything on to you, and that’s not fair. You didn’t do anything wrong, I shouldn’t have used you as my verbal punching bag, and I’m really really sorry.” 

You were silent as he finished, taking a minute to mull over your words before you found your voice again, lips parting to speak. 

“Am I overbearing?”

Michael paused, not exactly expecting you to ask a question. He chewed the inside of his cheek, weighing his own words before he spoke again, honesty dripping like honey from his tone. “Sometimes you are. But it’s how I know you care.” He paused again, chirping insects filling the gap. “If you were to ever stop checking in and worrying about me, that’s how I’d know I’ve lost you forever.”

More tears threatened to fall at his words and you pushed them away, knowing he always brought you honesty when you asked him questions like that. You took a deep breath and let it out through your mouth, the sound of your own breathing calming you down enough to speak. 

“I’m sorry,” you said simply, voice still raw as you winced at the ache. “I know I should have given you some space instead of checking in so much. You would have come to me when you were ready to, and I just kept pushing until you broke.” A slow sigh escaped through your nose before you continued, your eyes moving to Michael as he looked at you. “And I forgive you. But can we talk through things like this? My throat kind of hurts.”

A smile broke through Michael’s face, his teeth shining as he slipped an arm around you and pulled you close. “I promise I’ll talk more. I never want to yell at you ever again.” 

You smiled in return, his lips pressing sweet kisses to your forehead as he pulled you into his lap, arms keeping you as close as possible while he bundled you against his chest. Another silence fell, this one much more comfortable as you both watched the city move below you, cuddling on the hood of your car as Michael’s body warmed you up. 

After a while Michael yawned, releasing his arms from around you as he stretched them up. You sat up a bit and shivered, the air quickly stealing away the warmth you had just experienced as you started to stand up. 

“Probably should head home,” you mumbled, Michael nodding along as you both scooted off the hood, eyes scanning it for any dents or scratches before you moved to your cars. His hands held the door open for you, kisses being stolen before you got into the driver's seat and started the engine, immediately cranking the heat to get warm while Michael went to his, quickly moving out of the way as you both drove back home. Your dashboard clock alerted you the time, the 

The drive home was quicker than the drive out, your favorite Mowgli’s tune blasting as the two of you pulled in, both of you getting inside quickly as the dogs bounded over to you. Moose whimpered at Michael’s feet and he chuckled, reaching down to scratch her ears as South sniffed around your feet. 

Before you could pick him up for cuddles Michael’s hands were on your hips, tugging you close against him again as he pressed his lips to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, his squeezing your hips as he held onto you, unwilling to let you go as you stood in the entryway of your home. It took everything within both of you to pull apart, breathless as you held on to each other for dear life. 

“I love you, baby,” you said softly, your eyes meeting the beautiful mixture that up your boyfriends, a smile tugging on the corner of his lip as he pressed a kiss to your jaw. 

“I love you, too,” he said sweetly, lips moving to your ear. “Maybe I can show you how much in our room?” 

You couldn’t help but laugh lightly, nodding as he took your hand and led you to your bed, tangling under the sheets again and again until you both finally fell asleep. 

[minheefreckles]

Hidden Love - Taeyoung

Word count: about 2.5k

Member: Cravity’s Taeyoung 

Warning(s): Idiots in love, a few curse words here and there nothing too bad

Genre: Fluff, bulletpoint scenario, slight crack

Note: This was requested by anon! Also I don’t know how entertainment companies work so there may be some errors. Reader is older than taeyoung and is female since anon requested a nuna reader. Enjoy!

Request: hi!! can i ask for a taeyoung fic where the reader is an older trainee at starship and tae has the fattest noona crush on him 🥺

Plot: In which getting locked into a closet brings you a lot closer to a certain younger trainee

- The first thing taeyoung was greeted with while entering the practice room for the first time was a big group hug, sweaty arms and shoulders embracing him from everywhere

- (he swore he could have felt someone wrap their legs around him koala-style too)

- Giggles and shouts echoed through the room and despite himself (and the numerous sweats stains the huggers left on his new, plain white shirt :)), he felt himself giggling along with these strangers that he has known for a total of 5 seconds

- A chorus of very very enthusiastic “Hi Taeyoung!”s as the group released him from their hug followed, people introducing themselves to him left and right, leaving him slightly disoriented, but like, a good kind of disoriented if that was a thing

- As each trainee introduced themselves properly to him, by what he was guessing as age order– age, years of training, name, all that jazz

- Taeyoung’s eyes finally drifted to the person at the end of the line

- You!!

- There’s a small sign with the word “leader” messily written in black Sharpie on it and he noticed the corners of it didn’t stick on your shirt anymore

- Your eyes shone brightly and warmly, a wide grin etched on your face and Taeyoung felt his heart skip a beat

- Taeyoung seeing you basically: 😳

- You took a big step towards him and extended a hand towards him

- “Hi! I’m (Y/N), leader of this practice room, and you’re watching Disney Channel. Welcome to Starship Entertainment. Let’s get along well!” 

- Taeyoung’s eyes widened slightly. 

- Taeyoung: “what if… what if my hand was sweaty???” 

- “What if my hand sweat disgusts her????”

- To the poor boy’s shock, you retract your hand

- Taeyoung now, his eyes even wider because he thought you hated him now: “Did I make her wait too long????,,, does she hate me??? am i gonna have to leave starship now????”

- Taeyoung stop overreacting

- However, you open your arms very wide, inching closer and closer to him until your body is about 2 inches apart from his

- Taeyoung’s heart right now: THUMP THUMP THUMP THUMP THU-

- You hugged him in what might the warmest and most comfortable hug Taeyoung has ever received

- After a few seconds, which felt like an eternity for Taeyoung, you broke the hug and ruffled his hair

- “Let’s be good friends, kiddo :D!”, you said while unintentionally kiddo-zoning AND friend-zoning Taeyoung at the same time 

- And become good friends you guys did!

- You were the one he was closest to and the most comfortable with among the female trainees

- Whenever he couldn’t execute a dance move the way he wanted to, you were there at his rescue! guiding him through it and calming him down

- Whenever his throat was feeling sore from all the practicing and singing, you were there to yeet a bottle of water at him and tell him to stay hydrated, ruffling his hair while he whines at you for always treating him like a child

- Whenever he felt sad, down and as if the whole world was against him, you were there to sit down with him, remind him that no! he’s not alone, he had you and the other trainees who cared a lot for him

- Sometimes, you guys engage in deep long talks that last hours

- They always without fail manage to cheer him up and its probably during one of these talks that he starts to crush on you

- And boy does he start crushing h a r d

- The thing he liked most about you was probably the way you were so kind and so encouraging to everybody

- Even if the teachers scolded you for spending too much time helping the others with their moves or something, you didn’t care

- You liked helping others and you had already claimed all the others as your children >:D

- Anyways, the second time where he felt himself fall even deeper for you was on a weekend night, late in the night

- All the others have opted to go out to the movies or to go sing at a karaoke since it was the weekend 

- You, however, decided to stay at the practice room to touch up some dance moves you didn’t feel that good about and Taeyoung stayed because… well because of you

- After practicing for a good while with him and also lowkey just messing around, you laid down on the hard floor, your shirt soaked with sweat, Taeyoung soon following suit. 

- You turn towards him to face him and Taeyoung noticed how pretty you were, even with your sweaty, wet, messy hair plastered to the sides of your face, even when your nostrils were flaring up and down because you were out of breath

- “I never noticed how pretty your lips were” you said and turned back to stare at the ceiling

- While taeyoung’s literally about to flatline because his heart is beating so quickly jssjakak

- He also turns to stare at the ceiling awkwardly because he swears to god, if he looks at you for one more second, he will literally combust

- “R-really?” - him, absolutely shook while you lay there peacefully smiling at nothing

- “Yeah :) they look very soft :)” 

- Taeyoung’s literally shaking at this point

- “T-that’s cool. Your lips are pretty too?? I guess?? N-not to be creepy, i just find them really pretty, like pretty in shape, you know haha? And color too!! Your lip color is really pretty :’DD” 

- He turns back towards you to see you snoring and sleeping peacefully and he just sits there for a minute blinking because

- What just happened

- …

- The poor boy is on the verge of tears because :((( was he that boring to the point where you feel asleep :((( 

- The truth is you were just tired from practicing and from pulling that one nighter yesterday 

- But he didnt know that so whoops

- He ended up just saying fuck it and just fell asleep next to you, his arm under his head serving as a pillow 

- And oh boy y’all bet y’all got teased when the other trainees came back and found you two together

- Taeyoung with his arm around your waist even though he made sure to sleep at least 3 feet away from you last night because he wanted to respect your personal space

- Your face nuzzled into his chest

- Your legs tangled together

- S c a n d a l o u s

- Many pictures were taken on that day

- “God tier blackmail material” - kang minhee probably

- That was the day where you also started seeing taeyoung in a different light

- Maybe… just maybe he wasn’t the kid you always thought he was?

- Maybe he was… a man 😳

- There’s no way, right?? Haha you were just tripping

- … unless ?

- You start paying attention to your hair whenever you practiced with him

- No longer were the days where you liked to agressively flip your hair into his face because what if your hair smelled bad today :(?

- And wow, you really weren’t lying that night

- His lips really were pretty :0

- And how can someone look so good right after waking up at 5 am? And right after dancing for 30 minutes straight?

- And wow he really cleaned up well in a suit and tie when there was a certain formal event you guys had to attend

- You were even afraid to hug him sometimes after practice because what if you got sweat on him :((( what if your sweat disgusts him :((((

- Oh how the turn tables

- Unfortunately, taeyoung being the clueless boy he is mistakes your crush on him to being uncomfortable 

- He racks his mind to think of something he did to offend you or something

- And he suddenly remembers the practice room night

- Did he make you uncomfortable that night? Maybe he should have woken you up instead of laying down with you?

- Goddammit taeyoung - him

- He now thinks you hate him whoops :)

- So now the two of you avoid each other

- You avoid him because you’re still having an existential crisis over whether you really consider him as a crush and a man or a boi™

- He avoids you because he feels guilty for sleeping next to you and thinks you think he’s creepy

- Two idiots in love :)

- And y’all bet the other trainees knows how absolutely dumb and in love the both of you are

- And that is why they formed a plan together to

- !!! lock both of you in a closet to talk out your feelings !!!

- Isn’t that just genius haha nothing’s gonna go wrong right? Of course not

- So, Minhee’s mainly the one behind this absolute evil masterpiece

- He commands tells poor Seongmin to go tell you that you need to retrieve a bucket from the closet 

- While Wonjin’s the one who tells Taeyoung to go there to get a mop for “spring cleaning” even though its almost july

- And as if y’all couldn’t be dumber, you guys buy it and do exactly as they say

- You arrive first to the closet, not noticing the small footsteps behind you as Taeyoung also walks towards the closet, too enthralled by something on his phone to notice you were right before him 

- As you enter the tight closet, you don’t see a bucket?

- Did you get the wrong closet?? :( you remember them specifically saying it was this one though

- You hear the closet door open once again and you yelp, surprised by the sudden creaking and suddenly finding yourself face to face with Taeyoung 

- His nose was literally almost touching yours because of how small the closet was and you feel your heartbeat accelerate

- You didn’t even have the time so say hi to him before the doors suddenly closes followed by the sound of something, or rather somebody locking it. 

- Now that the door was closed, there was no natural light peeking through the crack of the door like before and you both find yourselves in the dark, tight space of the closet

- You stare bewildered at Taeyoung’s direction and you were pretty sure his expression was also mirroring yours before both of you turned towards the door and banged on it 

- It didn’t take long to conclude the others were behind this as the sound of giggling and hushed laughter could be heard from outside

- “YOU FUCKNUTS” - Taeyoung

- You at him swearing: 😶🤭😯😧😮😲

- “LET US OUT”

- “NOT UNTIL YOU TALK TO EACH OTHER AND STOP BEING DUMBASSES. YOU GUYS ARE IN LOVE AND ITS ANNOYING. BYE” sais someone who suspiciously sounded like Minhee

- You knew they weren’t gonna give up so you tried to find where the light switch was so you could at least see

- “Taeyoung, just give it up, do you know where the light is?”

- “IT’S NEXT TO THE DOOR” - a voice from outside

- “Thanks, I guess” you muttered, trying to stabilize yourself when you almost trip on something, which you were guessing was probably Taeyoung’s foot or something like that

- “Ouch!” Yep, that was his foot

- “Sorry, it’s really dark here, can you help me find the light switch. I can’t even remember where the door was” 

- You keep palping the wall to find it when you come in contact with something else :) something that kinda feels like a hand :) like Taeyoung’s hands :) not that you memorized the feeling of his hand shape from holding his hands so many times you could recognize them anywhere anytime :) totally not :)

- You hear a “click” and the light finally comes out of a light bulb from the ceiling and you tightly close your eyes for a second to get accustomed to the sudden change 

- When reopening them, you realize that you and Taeyoung found the light switch at the same time, your hand now on top of his

- You quickly retract your hand, your face feeling kinda warm, and glance at Taeyoung to find that his face, too, was very very red

- “So… um…”

- “Yep…”

- Awkward silence ensues :) 

- “Look y/n i can’t take it anymore… i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable that night when i slept next to you in the practice room. I was tired and i didnt want to wake you up because you looked so peaceful. Im sorry :(“

- “Wait… what, Taeyoung, you didn’t make me uncomfortable at all. Actually, since that night, I’ve just been really weird. I get weird around you, not in like a bad way. My heart feels weird, my stomach too. Like it feels like having butterflies in your stomach. All this time I thought of you as a kid, and now I might actually,,,,,, seeyoulikeaman?”

- Taeyoung: :0

- sO YOU DON’T HATE ME? Or is this your way of indirectly telling me that you hate me :(“

- “NO NO I DONT HATE YOU AT ALL WHAT MADE YOU THINK THAT”

- Haha nothing just you basically avoiding me 24/7 and not talking to me ever about anything anymore - taeyoung in his head

- “Idk. Wait, what did you say before? You might see what?”

- “Uh, well basically, uhhh…”

- “Does the mighty y/n mayhaps have a crush on me? I think I heard something like “i might see you like a man now”, huh?” Cue Taeyoung grinning like the Cheshire cat

- “Pfft, no, what do you mean, i never said that…”.........

- “Ok, yes, I admit it, I may have a small, teeny crush on you. I don’t know how it happened but it happened. And I actually like the feeling I get when I’m nervous around you. That sounds really weird, doesn’t it? And now I feel stupid because you probably don’t feel the same.”

- Taeyoung who has been crushing on you literally from the second he saw you: :0

- “I have a confession, but… I’ve liked you since the day you hugged me in that practice room my first day at Starship.”

- “WHAT?”

- “You were so kind to me and the others even when I just entered the company. You supported me through all these years and I don’t think I honestly could have picked someone else better than you to crush on. You’re literally an angel in disguise, Y/N.”

- Homeboy really just poured his entire heart and feelings to you in a closet

- “Wow. I guess we were crushing on each other this whole time and didn’t notice.” You couldn’t help but chuckle at the situation. 

- “NOW KISS” - a voice outside, again

- You and Taeyoung shared an exasperated look together. 

- “Leave us alone, this is private >:(((“ 

- “No.”

- You know, Tae,” you put your hand on his arm, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively, “that kiss doesn’t sound like a bad idea” You were now sporting a wide grin. 

- “Y/N NOT YOU TOO”

Bonus

“guys! get us out of here”

“jungmo unlock them”

“...”

“jungmo!”

“i may have forgotten the lock combination…”

“JUNGMO!”

[deceitfullyanxioussss]

Intruloceit: It/Its pronouns

Gift for @mostlikelytokillyouwithaspoon !!!!!!!!

Logan uses it/it’s pronouns

Warnings: Minor sexual themes (hip grabbing), Sympathetic Deceit/Remus, Unsympathetic Patton.

If I need to add anything else, let me know!

Ship: Established Demus/Dukeceit, Intruloceit (focus on Loceit)

Part 2

Logan adjusted it's tie for the billionth time that morning. It's tie had to be as straight as a line to maintain it's serious reputation.

Although... something told Logan that it would be viewed as anything but today.

What for? It's pronouns.

Logan was an it.

No, it wasn't transphobic. It wasn't dehumanization. Logan was an it.

Giving itself he/him pronouns felt wrong. She/her or they/them didn't do much of anything either. It's tried out neopronouns as well, but just... nothing.

It wasn't a human, and gender felt wrong to it. It didn't feel right being gendered like that. It was an it.

It smiled warmly to itself through the full-body mirror. It liked it.

It frowned though, letting it's shoulders sag. Patton won't like it, it just knew.

It took a deep breath as it tried to convince itself that today was going to be ok. With a firm nod towards itself in the mirror, it exited it's room.

"Hey, Logan." Virgil gave a brief nod in it's direction, his bangs bouncing with the motion. It nodded back much more definedly.

"Hello, Virgil." It turned to the other's. "How was everyone's sleep?" It asked. It was of utmost importance for the sides to maintain the best sleep possible for Thomas's optimal productivity.

Virgil shrugged, Patton replied with a simple "good", and Roman beamed at it while ranting about his grand dreams.

Logan nodded once Roman had finished his spew. "Thank you, Roman, that was interesting."

Patton spoke, "Hey, I've noticed something with Thomas lately."

Everyone turned to the fatherly figure.

“What is it, padre?” Roman asked.

"Recently, Thomas has seemed to take an interest in transgenderism, specifically it/it’s pronouns.” Patton stated. “I was wondering if anyone had anything to share.” Patton suggested, resting a smirk on his face.

Logan sighed. There was no way to turn back now. “Yes, actually.” It levelled itself with Patton, maintaining a monotone voice.

Patton rested his gaze onto it. “Oh, are you trans then?” He smiled.

Logan nodded. “Yes. I believe I am non-binary, Patton.”

Logan’s eyes surveyed the room. Patton smiled at it, Roman looked pleasantly surprised, and Virgil didn’t really show too much of a reaction.

“Awe, Logan, why didn’t you tell us before. Do you use they/them or neopronouns?” Patton cooed.

Logan would never in a million years outwardly admit it, but it was beginning to feel slightly nervous. It knew there was no reason to, however. It knew that Patton wasn’t going to accept it’s pronouns, and it knew that Patton wasn’t going to hurt it, so why was it nervous? Being nervous wasn’t going to change the outcome.

Logan pushed the nervousness to the back of its mind, choosing to ignore Virgil’s curious gaze from the corner of its eyes.

“I use it/it’s pronouns actually. That would probably be a good reason why Thomas has recently gained a curiosity. You see, I have been experimenting with my pronouns for the past three and a half months, and so far, it/it’s feels the most right to me at the moment.” Logan explained.

Patton’s smile seemed to fade. “Pardon?” he asked, voice uncharacteristically serious. Logan visibly tensed.

“I, uh, use it/it’s pronouns.” Logan simplified, a slight quiver to its voice.

Patton let out a chuckle. “That’s ridiculous. No, you don’t Logan.”

Logan cleared it’s throat. “Yes, I do.”

Patton’s face went stone-cold. “Listen, if you use they/them pronouns, I’m all for that. But it/it’s pronouns are transphobic! You can’t just dehumanize someone like that!”

Logan suppressed a groan and it’s urge to defend it and it’s pronouns. Instead, it spared a glance towards Virgil and Roman, catching sight of their conflicted expressions, before sinking out. It knew that if it stayed any longer, it would get frustrated and lash out and that wouldn’t be fun for anybody.

So it opted to leave and come back to the issue later.

Logan rose back in it’s room with a sigh. It immediately walked over to it’s mirror and gazed at itself, frowning.

Maybe I’m not actually an it. Logan wondered with a sadness. I suppose it doesn’t really make sense anyway. Thomas is cisgender, so I shoud be too, right?

Logan heaved another sigh and adjusted it’s tie unnecessarily.

Final answer then, I’m not an it.

Just then, yellow was seen out of the corner of its eyes, standing out clearly against the dark blue theme of its room. “Deceit?” it questioned, turning around to look at the scaled side, who was staring at it with an unamused expression. “What are you doing here?” it asked the other, looking away and back at the mirror, trying to distract itself by smoothing out some extra ruffles on it’s suit.

Logan watched through the mirror as Deceit’s image stepped closer to it.

Logan’s actions stopped in their tracks when Deceit rested his hands on its shoulders from behind.

“Ssssssomeone,” he began, the hiss quietly murmured directly into its ear, sending the smallest shiver down it’s back. “is lying.” Deceit said. “I’m here to know what about.”

Logan completely stilled, it’s pupils had dilated and it’s breath had caught in its throat as Deceit hands left its shoulders and moved down to it’s hips. "I-” it stuttered, a faint pink travelling to it’s cheeks.

Deceit took a step back from it, removing his hands from their comfortable place on it’s hips upon seeing the others uncomfortable reaction. 

Logan waited a few moments for its heart to calm down and cleared it’s throat, forming the reply, “I-I was just t-telling myself that I use he/him pronouns before you c-came in.” Logan informed. It could see Deceit nod from the mirror.

“And… what are your pronouns, Logan?” he asked, voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Logan shook its head and looked to the floorboards. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Clearly, it does, Logan. I can’t have you lying. That’s my job.”

Logan turned to look at the other directly. “I- I believe I use it/it’s pronouns.” It confessed, feeling shame coarse through its body. If Deceit had a reaction, his expression was neutral, leaving the reaction internalized.

Silence wafted between the two bodies, causing Logan to become tenser by the second. Eventually, Deceit took a step forward. Logan immediately took a step back, unaware of the action until it was committed. Deceit stopped his movements and quirked a brow. "Logan, are you ok?"

Logan nodded, stuttering, "Y-Yeah, s-sorry, I just-"

Deceit interrupted. "Lie."

Logan was drawn a blank. How was it supposed to respond?

Once again, silence encased them.

It finally figured that Deceit should know the recent events.

"Patton, he, uh… called me transphobic for my preferred pronouns. He said that it was 'dehumanizing'. I didn't get opinions from either Virgil or Roman, I sunk out before they said anything." Logan explained, fingers going to play with the end of its tie out of nervousness.

Deceit nodded and cautiously took an experimental step forward. Logan stayed put this time, its warm brown eyes firmly locked with Deceit's mismatched ones. Deceit slowly made his way over to where Logan stood, his hands calmly reclaiming their position on its hips.

"Logan, dear, pay no mind to Patton. It/its are a perfect set of pronouns." He murmured reassuringly, a subconscious blush making yet another appearance on its face.

It swallowed. "D-Dear?" It parroted questioningly.

Deceit hummed. "Logan, if you will, I'd love to have you as my datemate." He said, the warmest, yet most crooked smile gracing his features. Logan couldn't help but be enraptured, the dim light of it's room catching the other's scales so beautifully, the gorgeous way his mouth curved into a crooked smile. Logan didn't think its blush could get darker but it did. Logan was almost too eager to say yes, but a thought reached it and it hesitated.

"I thought… you and Remus were a thing though." Logan said, voice dripping with disappointment.

Deceit nodded. "Well, yes, we are. Thing is, we both have developed romantic feelings for you and were hoping you would enter a polyamorous relationship with us."

Logan took in Deceit's words carefully. It wasn't really the best with emotions, everyone knew that, but it could recognize when it felt different about something. An image of Remus filled its head. Logan had felt something odd towards the strange man during their last encounter, but it wasn't sure if it could label it love yet. It wasn't exactly opposed to the idea of being in love with him though.

Deceit, was certainly a different case however. Logan wasn't too pulled towards Deceit in their first encounter. Their next meeting, while it had been Deceit's fault it wasn't as involved in the courtroom scenario as it should have been, there was something undeniably attractive about the snake's impressive debating skills, knowledge on philosophy, and that damn suit that clung to his perfect chest so well. Unmistakably, it had fallen for the yellow side.

It shyly wrapped its arms around Deceit's shoulders and cleared its throat. "I suppose that would be satisfactory. Yes, I will happily date the two of you."

Deceit grinned at it, eyes shining with excitement. "I'm sure Remus would be glad to hear." He spoke, one of his extra arms showing themselves and gently caressing Logan's cheek. "I'm sure he wouldn't be so glad to know that I get to kiss you first though." He chuckled and slowly brought their bodies closer, studying its face for any signs of objection, finding non. Their lips finally met in an explosion of fireworks that made Logan's heart flutter. It closed its eyes and simply melted into Deceit's three arms.

[roombagreyjoy]

“Shh. Come here. It’s just a nightmare.” prompt for jonmartin >:3

OKAY THERE IS A PERFECTLY GOOD EXPLANATION FOR THIS: I had a perfectly good draft, already edited, ready to be posted. But it was too angsty/filled with anger/not enough comfort for all the hurt and I had a TERRIBLE week and I woke up from a nightmare (oh, the irony) at 6AM and wrote this one instead on a burst of fear-induced mania in like four or five hours. I've barely edited it, so bear with me.

PS: I’m so sorry.

Seriously I did my best I’m so sorry.

-----

Prompt #2: “Shh. Come here. It’s just a nightmare.”

Read it on my AO3 Page as well

Alternative Title: Nightmares Aren’t Fun

[They really aren’t]

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Pairings: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan Sims

Content Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Depression (not explicit), feelings of solitude/loneliness, low self-esteem (not explicit), there’s literally an Apocalypse going on what else do you need to know

Addendum: I am so sorry, I had a perfectly good draft and went for this one I just wrote in four hours nonstop instead, the other one was too angsty/angry/sad and I had a terrible week so I chose to remake the entire thing I am so sorry, the first part of this is very statement-y and it was completely on accident but then again as your resident nightmare expert what can you expect, please don’t kill me I tried my best and I only have one (1) brain cell.

Length: 2515 words (do not trust AO3 I know it’s 2515 don’t fucking @ me)

-----

It’s a weird feeling, waking up from a nightmare. You don’t realise when you’ve woken, you just… are waken, sometimes bolting upright in bed due to the shock, others jolting awake with tears streaming down your cheeks; heaving, or breathing rapidly, or just straight-up sobbing, with snot coming out of your nose in the least dignified way possible. The heavy weight of the world on your shoulders, the fear clinging to your soul, rooted deep beneath your skin, in your brain, in your heart, in your lungs and your stomach and your knees and your shoulders and your chest and your teeth and your eyes and your tongue…

You can feel it clutching at the last cracks of sleep left within you. Sometimes it takes a while for it to be left behind. Can be minutes. Can be hours. Sometimes you carry that fear with you for a day, two days, a week… oftentimes not even remembering what exactly it is you’re supposed to be afraid of.

Waking up from a nightmare with someone by your side is an even weirder feeling.

At least, it is, for people who are not used to having anyone by their side at all.

When you have been lonely for so long, companionship can become a prison as well as a salvation. The balance is hard to find, processing your emotions is more complicated than it used to be when you were alone. You have someone else there; someone who’s affected by your actions and whose actions you’re affected by. Someone who depends on you and on whom you depend. It’s in equal parts comforting and terrifying.

Especially when you’ve just woken up from a horrible, terrible, godawful nightmare.

That had just happened to poor Martin Blackwood, who, in fact, did not quite remember what the nightmare was all about at all! All he remembered is that it was horrible.

But, then again, this is the Apocalypse, isn’t it? It’s supposed to be bad. Awful, even. And that, it was. He shook a little at the touch of cold hands tentatively brushing past his arm and resting on his bare shoulder. He could already feel the tingle in the back of his head, like his brain was tickling, but not necessarily in a good way. The more awoken he was, the more his senses started brushing off the tiredness and sleepiness, he became more and more aware of it. The feeling of being watched, of being observed; the underlying fear of being judged. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to keep that fear at bay. ‘You’re not judged. You’re safe. You’re okay. Being looked at does not mean being submitted to judgement.’ A constant reminder, time and again. The incessant push to make his brain rationalise the situation. Trying not to break. Not like this. Not in front of Jon. He already had enough on his plate as is, to have to deal with him even after the nightmares.

It’s hard to convince yourself of some things when your entire life you’ve felt otherwise.

He did not open his eyes, but he leaned into the touch when he felt Jon cupping his cheek softly. The feeling of his hand on Martin’s skin was comforting; his skin was rough, coarse, the texture of his palm uneven and scarred, his once delicate, slim fingers now slightly bent, fragile, yet their touch was certain, his fingernails only a little too long (Martin bit at them when he was stressed, but Jon never did; he resorted to nervously tangling his fingers instead). He felt himself letting out a long breath of air he didn’t know he had been holding until then, and with it went some of the tension bottled up deep inside his body, when he felt Jon’s thumb slowly caress his cheek in a circular motion. He didn’t open his eyes yet, and he felt the other man’s hand shifting slightly, at an infuriating slow pace, probably in order not to startle him. Said hand slowly reached up, and he felt Jon’s thumb softly against his skin again, this time in his eyelid, moving upwards, tracing his eyebrow, his index finger drawing circles over his forehead with a gentleness almost unparalleled… Jon ran his hand a few times through Martin’s hair, in a calming motion, only for his thumb to then trace the way back down, gently playing with his ear, lingering there for a second or two, before it made its way to Martin’s jawline, lips…

Jon finally let his hand down, and Martin begrudgingly opened his eyes. He was staring at him. Of course, he was staring at him. He blinked whatever was left of sleep within him and smiled back. He stared at the other man for a few minutes, without saying anything. Jon seemed reluctant to say something either. Martin eventually blinked. Jon didn’t. He finally opened his mouth, his voice coming out hoarse yet filled with such affection Martin felt his stomach twist for a second with what he might have once called butterflies. Not anymore, though.

“You’re beautiful, you know.” Was all Jon said. Martin knew he didn’t look beautiful. He could still feel the tears drying up in his cheeks, although he didn’t know why he was crying in the first place, and he sniffed. He shifted his body, so he’d be looking up, to the ceiling. The sounds of the outside world were… bad. They were bad. He shook a little beneath the bedsheets.

“Do you, err… do you want me to bring you another blanket?” Jon asked, cautiously. “The one in the couch is… very comfortable.” He was aware Jon knew he wasn’t shaking out of coldness, but he nodded regardless.

“I know.” Martin said. He was the one who put it there, after all. That’s where Jon spent most of his time after the change. He used to stare silently at the wall, shaking. Sometimes he would let out small huffs of air, like he was trying to laugh but his voice wasn’t there to laugh with him. Martin took the warmest looking blanket he could find (Daisy was, apparently, not one for seeking comfort underneath a blanket and a warm cup of hot cocoa) and put it around him, making sure to cover him entirely. He used to leave Jon like that for a while, not wanting to invade his privacy, but sometimes he felt the need to rest a hand on his shoulder, whisper comforting words he knew Jon would not believe (after all, neither did he), kiss his forehead or his hair… although he wasn’t sure Jon even noticed he was there most of the time.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t an unknown feeling to Martin. So, he carried on, he made tea…

But the tea was gone.

So was the world.

Martin shook slightly harder. Jon bent over his arm to stare at him properly, this time; his green eyes glowing almost imperceptibly to the human eye. If Martin didn’t know, he wouldn’t have noticed. He always noticed, though.

“Are you sure about that blanket?” He asked again. “It’s… I…” He closed his mouth in defeat, at a loss for words.

“Yes. Yes. Go grab it,” Martin conceded. “… please.” He added.

Honestly, he just wanted to get Jon out of the room for a bit, give him a chance to collect himself. To function properly. To take a deep breath without feeling a pair of big, inquiring eyes upon him. Of course, Jon knew this. He should feel guilty. He just didn’t have it in him to feel guilty anymore. This, Jon also knew. Martin wished he could believe there was something Jon did not, in fact, know, at that point. But he had chosen not to care about that either. Not anymore. It was only going to hurt the both of them if he did anyway.

Jon, however, got up silently, took his share of bedsheets he was leaving behind and tucked them closer to Martin so he would keep the warmth his body was leaving behind. Not like Jon produced a lot of body heat, tiny and cold as he was, but the gesture was sweet. It made Martin feel slightly better, and also, slightly guilty, now for real. He closed his eyes with a soft, quick hum and heard the door open and close behind him. There was no need for Jon to close the door, he shouldn’t be long if all he needed to do was retrieve the woollen blanket on the couch, but Martin realised. This was Jon’s way of giving him some privacy. He still felt observed, but this time, the only pair of eyes he actually didn’t mind being observed by were gone.

It did take some of the tension out of him, however. The cabin was… safe. Allegedly. At least, he thought so. And the feeling of being watched decreased significantly with Jon being out of the room. He heard him fumbling in the adjoining room through the paper-thin walls, but he didn’t know what the other man was doing. He used this time to calm himself down as best he could. He sat on the bed, stretched a bit, felt his shoulders crack and moved his neck around. He took a deep breath, held, let it out, repeat. Five breaths later, he felt almost like a person. Almost.

“Jon?” He called out, voice loud enough for the other to hear. He didn’t wait for a response or a confirmation that Jon had, in fact, heard him, when he added: “I think you can come back in now.”

Jon opened the door trying his best not to let his eagerness show, carrying the infamous woollen blanket and… two mugs. For some reason. Martin eyed the man who stood in front of him suspiciously. Jon, patient as a saint, waited, leaning against the doorframe. Finally, Martin nodded, and he made his way to the bed. He didn’t climb onto the bed outright, sliding his knee up first instead, and dropping the objects he was carrying on the mattress carefully. He took the blanket and rounded up the bed until he got to Martin’s side. He placed it gently over his shoulders, instead of putting it on top of the bedsheets.

“I think we can both curl up under there.” He commented casually, a smile painting his words with comfort and love. Martin couldn’t help but smile back, softly.

“Sure, that sounds good.”

As much as he wanted to ask about the mugs, he knew he had to let Jon do his thing, on his own time. This was as much of a coping mechanism to him as it was to Martin.

Finally, with Jon on his side of the bed, Martin opened up the blanket as the other man positioned himself beneath the bedsheets. He took his side of the blanket as well, curling up beneath Martin’s big arm, pressing close to his side. He let out a content sigh and Martin’s heart beat a little faster. He didn’t even care how they’d ended up in this situation, all he cared about was the man who embraced him in his arms and hid his face in Martin’s neck, taking a deep breath. Martin absentmindedly pet Jon’s hair while his gaze diverted to the mugs, standing on the corner of the bed, untouched, empty.

“Jon…”

“Oh! Yes, right. Sorry.” Jon let out a small chuckle, not unlike him these days, but that would’ve been foreign to Martin before all this happened. He seemed so much better than… well. Before.

To some extent at least.

He knew though. He knew Jon was only putting up a show. Martin had been the one in charge of taking care of them before, and he knew Jon felt like it was his turn now. Martin thought it shouldn’t be like this. They had to take care of each other mutually, not just take turns and whatnot. While he was lost in thought, Jon had reached up for the mugs and handed one to Martin. The one with the tartan print on it.

“What’s this?”

“… A mug.”

“No- yes. Jon, I know it’s a mug-”

“Oh. Yes. Sorry, I-”

They kind of stepped on each other’s words for a bit until Jon decided to shut up, looking away with a flustered expression and a shame-induced smile that was still too endearing to Martin to avoid blushing too, himself.

“Look. I… why did you bring the mugs? You said there was no tea left and…”

Jon patiently waited for him to finish. But he didn’t. When it was clear he wasn’t going to say anything else, Jon sighed and pressed harder to Martin’s flank, shifting his own mug in his hands abstractedly.

“I know you like that mug.”

“What?”

“When… when everything was… when I didn’t… before I… well.” Martin did not press him to continue, just as Jon had waited for him to sort out his thoughts. Jon let out a quiet damnit and looked up in frustration. A storm raged in his eyes, and Martin slowly brought his hand to the other’s knee, squishing softly. Jon resumed, sometime afterwards, leaning into Martin’s touch almost desperately, like a sailor stranded at sea for far too long.

“When there was still tea left,” he said, and Martin knew. He had tried to talk to Jon about it, but the blame, the shame, the pain, the fear… it was all too much for him still. Maybe time was running out. Maybe not. Maybe it was all in his head. It could be. He didn’t know. There were so many things he didn’t know these days… But he wouldn’t push Jon. Not so hard. Not yet. Not still. He nodded, and Jon continued, a pinch of sadness crawling onto his voice. He tried to hide it with a cough, but he couldn’t. “When there was still tea left, you used to take these two mugs to make it the most often. You always kept the one with the tartan pattern on it, so, evidently, I assumed… you know.”

“Oh,” Martin whispered, softly.

“Yes. Well.” Jon coughed again. “It thought maybe… even if it was an unconscious choice, you know… I just… maybe, just maybe, it would make you feel better.”

Martin felt a warmth in his body that he knew was not because of the blankets, or Jon’s body next to him (though that sure helped), he smiled, tears threatening to bloom out of his eyes once again, albeit this time for very different reasons. He kissed Jon’s hair and kept his face buried there, the smell of the person he loved the most lingering, covering him, plunging him into memories of a different time, a different world, a different life. He closed his eyes and kissed Jon again, in the same spot, over, and over, slowly, gently, taking in as much of him as he possibly could, while his hands clutched the tartan mug.

Nothing else mattered. For now, he was safe. Jon was here. They were safe.

[hockeybabestars]

75 w/ Sebastian Aho?

i hope this was okay anon, i sort of took it in a different direction! guys im so swamped w exam stuff rn its just sad

75. Our first date is spent walking around our small town holding hands and talking as soft snow falls around us

North Carolina hardly ever saw snow. Which was fine. But even I couldn’t resist when the blanket of white fluff freshly covered the ground.

“Do you mind?” Sebastian sounded nervous through the phone, like he didn’t know if the drop in temperature and addition of icy roads would cause our date to be canceled or not.

“I don’t if you don’t.” I smiled.

“Okay then, I’ll pick you up in an hour.”

“Sounds good Seb. I’ll see you then.” For all the nerves flipping around in my stomach the response was surprisingly calm and felt natural.

I took my time getting ready, listening to my Christmas playlist and singing along here and there. And by the time the hour was almost up, I had slipped on my warmest coat and some doc martens considering I didn’t really have snow shoes. I slipped my phone in my pocket as I heard the doorbell ring and my dog started barking and she ran up to the door to see who it was.

I opened the door to see Sebastian trying to casually lean against the frame, while I held Lily back by her collar. I laughed as he immediately went to my golden retriever instead of me. He gave her a little love before coming inside and wrapping me in a hug, “oh, well hello to you too.”

“Hi,” he murmured into my ear, causing my heart to race. He pulled back, going and letting my dog into the backyard as I grabbed my keys and such. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah, just let me lock up.”

As we piled into his car I was curious, “what’s on the agenda for today?”

“I figured we could go to the town square and walk around the Christmas Market.”

“Aww that sounds amazing.” I could see the pink tinting his cheeks a little, and I just smiled, getting used to the fact that it was me making him all nervous, “That’s why I was a little nervous earlier though, I didn’t know if you would want to be outside when it’s way below freezing.”

“I’m down for anything with you.” 

We found parking pretty quickly, surprisingly, and in no time, we were walking around looking at snow covered Christmas trees, drinking hot chocolate, and looking at the different shops for ornaments and trinkets and such. It was fun seeing this side of Sebastian, a softer side, it seemed.

The sun was starting to set, and the town Christmas lights were starting up. I was waiting for the town hall lighting of the tree. I took a sip of my cocoa, and as the tree lit up the night in a soft yellow, I felt a hand slip into mine. It made my heart leap a bit. And the smile that had been there all night, suddenly got a little bigger. I had liked Sebastian for a while, and it still took a little getting used to when I first realized he had feelings for me too. 

I knew Svech and Dougie were up to something. The entire Christmas party they were watching me like a hawk. They kept their distance but they were always close by watching, and I was going to get to the bottom of it. 

I tipped my champagne back and forged on into the kitchen to pour myself another. My only line of defense was my ugly sweater that read ���oh snap” with the damn gingerbread man on it.

“(Y/N/N)!” Svech started, throwing an arm around me easily, “where’s Sea Bass, I thought you two were a package deal?”

Come to think of it I hadn’t seen Seb in a hot minute. Last I saw he was getting me punch, but that was 20 minutes ago. I think Andrei could tell I was thinking too hard as he squeezed my shoulder gently, “I actually haven’t seen him, let me know if you find him?” 

“Will do!” The baby Russian chuckled as I dove further into the room, literally running into Warren, “have you seen-“

“Seb?” I nodded, “him and Turbo are out on the balcony.” He smiled as I patted him on the shoulder gratefully, “thanks Warren.”

“Sure thing (Y/N/N).”

I started towards the balcony, the music fading with every step, and as I opened the door, it felt like I had interrupted something important.

Both boys abruptly turned their heads to me,“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” I tried to push back into the party but Seb called me to wait. Teuvo headed my way with a slight nod, and left us alone on the balcony.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, coming to rest my arms against the railing.

“I Uh, don’t know.”

“You just kinda disappeared.” I said. His brows furrowed and I could tell he was lost in thought. I reached up and smoothed the creases between his eyes with my thumb. His eyes trailing my fingers all the way. I was about to pull my hand back and he gently grabbed my hand, kissing the back of it which caused my cheeks to flush a bit.

“What was that for?”

“For being my best friend.” He said, lightly resting his hand on my back to guide me, “c’mon let’s go back inside.” As we walked in though, the door chimed, and when I looked up I saw mistletoe, which wasn’t there when I walked outside all of ten minutes ago.

I turned to Seb, who was glaring at Svech and Dougie. But I didn’t care really. I leaned over and found his lips, soft and shocked at first I think. I pulled back, thinking no reaction was a reaction in and of itself, but then his lips were on my again and I couldn’t resist. I was thankful for those little shits even. 

My opened my eyes slowly as we pulled away and a smile made its way to my lips as he said, “go on a date with me.”

“Seb we’ve gone out together so many times.” I laughed. 

“No like a real date.” His smile lit up as I replied, “okay.” And he kissed me again.

Now as I was tucked under his arm I could see and feel the snow flakes falling around us. “I’ve always wanted a white Christmas.” I said.

“I’ve always wanted you.” He kissed my forehead and I leaned into the feeling of it. 

“Merry Christmas Sebastian.”

“Merry Christmas (Y/N).”

[imagines-forthe-soul]

Bell 😍 can i request something for kaminari??? You can decide if it's a scenario or headcanons or whatever you want 💚 (I'm so confused with him because idk if i love him like a partner or just friends HELP)

I decided to do a fluff headcanons game for this since I haven’t done one before!! I hope you enjoy it, love!! But I totally know what you mean about not knowing if you should love him as a partner or friend. Denki would be so good as either of them!!

Also, I got this headcanon game here !!

_________________________________

Kaminari Denki:

A = Affection (how affectionate are they in day to day life? Do they show affection publicly or keep that more in private?)

Dekni is very affectionate!! There isn’t a moment that he isn’t holding or touching you in some way. With or without realizing it, his hand is always going to find its way to yours, linking your fingers, caressing your hand or simply holding it. He just loves being near you and giving you loving affection. Don’t even get me started on the amount of kisses he gives you each hour of the day. Honestly, some might find his constant kissing annoying, but you can never be annoyed for too long because of how sweet he is being. Placing kisses on your shoulders, cheeks, hands, arms, or just wherever he feels like at the time is something he just loves doing because of how soft your skin is. He is open for some PDA as long as you are. He loves letting people know how much he loves you and that he has no issues giving you affection out in public, but if you are not comfortable with it, then he will put in an effort to only leave the affection behind closed doors. 

B = Best memory (what is the best memory they have with you)

The best memory he has with you is your first kiss together. It was like everything night was more beautiful, enhanced, louder. The moon was high and full in the sky, covering the land in an ethereal glow that made you look so much more angelic than you usually did in his eyes. You two had been walking through a park but had stopped at a nearby pond to rest and admire the sparkling water. Sitting side by side you both conversed lightly, Denki making a few jokes and you laughing at how silly he could be. At one of his sillier jokes, you had lost yourself in your laughter, tears pricking st your eyes. He couldn’t help but stare at you, your beautiful smile wide across your face as you laughed at his joke, your laugh resonating through his bones and reaching his heart, making it skip a beat every other second. He wasn’t sure what force had compelled his body to move, but before he knew it he had closed the space between you both, eyes still locked on you as he cupped your face and turned you towards him. He waited until your laughter to die down before his lips covered yours softly, body working on its own. To this day he can remember the way he felt an electric pulse not of his own ripple through his body at the feeling of your lips against his, so soft and warm. The kiss didn’t last long, but it was long enough to leave you both stupefied, eyes searching one another’s for answers before you both smiled at each other lightly, you giggling happily and him nervously smiling at you but still filled with such a sense of love for you.

C = Cat or dog person (this is pretty obvious)

He is a fan of both cats and dogs, but I see him liking dogs just a smidge more. Small dogs are his absolute weakness, especially Pomeranian (I actually headcanon that all the bakusquad members are huge suckers for Pomeranian (mainly because of Bakugou)). He finds small dogs so cute and loveable. They are easy to carry, cuddle, take care of, and play with without making too much of a mess. He also love how smaller dogs have a lot more energy than bigger ones and how cute they look when they run. He’d probably get a pomeranian or a pug one day and name it something like ‘Sir Skwiggums’ or something because he loves dogs that have cute yet weird names. 

D = Dreams (what do they want to do in life?)

Honestly, this is a question Denki still has a bit of trouble answering. Yes, he’s currently training to become a hero, but he isn’t sure that’s exactly what he wants to do when he gets older. He often feels bad about thinking like this since if he had never joined the hero course, someone else could have had the chance to train to become a hero. It really puts him into a big funk and everyone can notice it and do their best to reassure him. Often times he thinks about what else he could have been doing, but he is never able to answer it for himself and it scares him how uncertain and unclear his future is. 

E = Evenings (how do they spend their evening? So they go out? Do they read?)

His evenings mainly consist of him hanging out with his friends, doing some schoolwork but then stopping half way since he most likely got distracted by something and instead playing video games. Overall, he just wants his evenings to be filled with chilled out fun with his friends or s/o after a hard day at school. Surrounding himself with his friends or s/o just puts him at ease and makes him feel comfortable. He is big on being around people in general since being alone for too long makes him feel uneasy. 

F = First date (what was it like?)

His first date with you is a complete disaster but not in the sense of the date not being enjoyable or him being a jerk. He had planned to take you out to see a movie but had forgot his wallet at his dorm so you two ended up walking the streets and doing some late evening sightseeing. For the most part, it was enjoyable, but then Denki had somehow tripped over himself and twisted his ankle. You fussed over him for a bit, worried that he was seriously injured. He would have enjoyed your attention and concern were it not for the overwhelming feeling of embarrassment for having tripped in the fashion that he did, resulting in a sprain in his leg and you carrying him back to the dorm. He was sure that you would have stopped talking to him after that but was surprised to know that you wanted to go on a second first date  with him. 

G = Giggle (what is their laugh like? What makes them laugh?)

His laugh is actually rather cute. Most people would think that his laugh would be obnoxious and loud, but it is a decent volume and light. His laughs always start out with a raspberry before turning into light joyous laughter with the occasional wheeze or hiccup.

H = Hugs (do they like hug? What kind of hugs do the give?)

You Denki is giving you his signature full on, genuine, warmest of the warm hug when you two end up on the floor. His hugs are always full of affection and giggling and moving about. He can’t contain his excitement and joy when it comes to hugging someone and will eventually topple you to the floor in one of his hugs if you are someone close to him. He loves giving and receiving back and side hugs. They are the cutest types of hugs to him since it gives him a good chance to kiss the other person’s neck (He makes sure to kiss Bakugou’s cheek since he doesn’t like having his neck touched by anyone that isn’t Kirishima). When it comes to chest-to-chest hugs, he saves those for when his friends or s/o is feeling down since, to him, those kinds of hugs are “I’m here for you” type of hugs.  

I = Instrument (do they play an instrument?)

He is pretty good at he guitar but is killer at the ukulele. He started playing it when he was in grade school and completely fell in love with the ukulele. He loves how small and cute it is and likes that the songs played on it are always calm or upbeat. He knows how to play several different songs on it and sometimes he goes to Jirou’s room to ask her how to play new songs or two play along with her. 

J = Joy (what brings them joy in life?)

Friends and family are his main sources of joy. Like I said before, Denki loves surrounding himself with people that he is close to since it brings him happiness Being alone for too long makes Denki uneasy and pretty sad, so just having one person keep him company (whether that be through calling, texting, or face to face) will make Denki feel better. He is very close to his friend’s family as well, mainly Sero’s. He loves hanging out and playing with his siblings (usually falling victim to the twin’s antics since both he and Sero look up to them a tad bit too much) and he absolutely loves playing with the kids within his family as well! 

K = Kisses (what kind of kisser are they? Shy? Passionate?)

Excited and sloppy but sweet type of kisser. I know this sounds pretty odd but honestly this is how all of his kisses are. His excitedness makes kisses rather sloppy, lips smacking, teeth grazing, and bruised lips, but there is a certain sweetness to it that makes your knees weak and heart race. His kisses will linger on your lips for a good while, making you occasionally touch your lips and giggle at how sweet and excitable he can be sometimes. 

L = Love (how do they act when they have a crush)

He is all about trying to impress his crush and getting them to notice him. He can do this in two ways. The first way being that he does something rather impressive to get their attention. This can be trough when he is training and he successfully pulls off one of his secret moves or with his good communication and sportsmanship skills. It’s amazing seeing Denki when he is in action and how well he works with others. It is bound to impress you and most of his other classmates. However, the second way he gets your attention is when he is embarrassing himself. This can happen when he overuses his quirk and short circuits or when he makes a joke that no one understands or laughs at.

M = Memory (what’s their favourite memory?)

His favorite memory is when he was younger and his parents took him to Disney world for the first time. He had been talking about wanting to go for years and was beyond excited when his parents finally took him. He felt as though he had been taken to some far away magical land when he entered the gates. His parents took him on as many rides as they could, getting him different snacks and foods and souvenirs in between each ride. That night he went home as excited as when he first got their, balloons tied to his arms, stuffed animals and characters sitting in the seat next to him in the car and cotton candy fluff still stuck in his hair. When he got home that night he called his friends up and told them all about his time at Disney world, showing them all his new stuffies and raving on and on about what a fun time he had. Eventually he would have ended up in his parents room thanking them for taking him before sleeping in their room with them.

N = No (what is their pet peeve?)

Denki is a rather chill person and not a lot pisses him off, but people bad mouthing those that are close to him is a sure way to get him angry. He can not stand having people talk badly of those he cares about and will make sure to give that person a what for for what they are saying. He won’t ever get physical with the person, but what he says back to them is far from nice.

O = Occupation (what’s their dream job?)

Again, this is a question he just can’t answer. He’s tried thinking of what he could be beside being a hero but nothing ever comes to mind and it scares him. Denki is both good and bad at almost everything, so he isn’t sure what kind of job would suit someone like him. With the skills he does have, he is sure he could get whatever job he applies to, but he knows he won’t ever last long due to his shortcomings he believes he has.

P = Parent (what kind of parent would they be?)

He is such a sweet and fun loving parent!! There isn’t a thing he wouldn’t do for his child. He spoils them rotten with affection, giving them kisses so often that his child is bound to end up covered in Denki’s drool. He loves playing around and messing about with his child, having fun with them at any given time as well as teaching them different things. He thinks the best way to teach a kid something is to make it fun! However, he is very protective and gets pretty emotional over his child as well. If he sees any sort of danger around his child, he is quick to be by their side, holding them close. If anything ever happens to his child is his blind to cry about it. Let it be them scraping their knee or them saying their first word, Denki is going to be crying about it.

Q = Questions (do they believe in the super natural? Aliens? Anything along those lines)

He believes more so in ghosts than he does Aliens. He’s seen some freaky spooky creepy shit in his life and the only explanation he can find for these things is ghosts. He spends most of his nights watching ghost videos and conspiracy theories about them as well as buzzfeed unsolved videos. He’s sure ghosts exists and likes watching videos and documentaries that explain certain types of ghosts and their activities.

R = Romantic (are they romantic during the relationship?)

Baby boy is very romantic during his relationship with you. He loves being able to sweep you off your feet every once in a while, treating you to something nice and pampering you as you should always be. He loves how much you enjoy him being romantic and sweet with you. Often times he will randomly bring you flowers that he has picked from the school’s garden and then confessed his undying love for you as he is taken to the Nezu’s office for messing with school property.

S = Smile (what makes them smile without fail)

Seeing his mother happy. Whenever he sees his mother doing something she enjoys or even just seeing her face will make him smile. He is very close to his mother and loves her to pieces. He is a complete Mama’s Boy. Almost everything he did as a child was to please his mother and even as he’s grown over the years, he still tries to please her as much as he possibly can.

T = Together (how clingy are they? How long do you two spend together per day on average)

He is a pretty clingy guy with his family, friends, and his s/o. He likes spending as much time as he can with all of them and gets pretty upset when it’s time to leave them or when they have to leave him. More often than not if you say you are going somewhere, Denki will want to tag along with you to both avoid being alone and to spend more time with you. You two spend at least 14 hours a day with each other, sometimes more if he is feeling extra clingy.

U = Unbearable (what habit do they have that’s unbearable? What habit do you have that they find unbearable)

There are a lot of things Denki does that you find unbearable, but the one thing that really gets to you is the way he chews his food. He chews his food like a horse, exaggerating his bites and making small smacking sounds. It makes you want to choke each time he eats.

A habit that you have that has the potential of ticking DenkI off is when you ignore his texts. Now it isn’t exactly a habit but the way Denki texts you makes it pretty hard for you to reply to everything he says. He sends massive blocks of texts sometimes and it’s hard to give him a response to each one so often times you just ignore the ones that you don’t think need a proper response to. It ticks him off since he puts a lot of effort into the texts he sends you but he is never mad for too long.

V = Videos (do they take lots of videos or photos during your relationship?)

Of course! He takes photos and videos any chance he gets and he somehow always manages to get the funniest or most embarrassing photos/videos of you both. He has an entire digital album of photos/videos of you both and will often spend time watching them when he misses you. 

W = Wedding (what was the wedding like?)

The wedding was a fun one! All of your closest family and friends were there, keeping the wedding rather small but still pretty enjoyable.Everything went smoothly and on time.Your vows were said, you both shared a beautiful kiss, had a bit of fun cutting the cake before dotting bits of icing on one another. Music played after the wedding and everyone got up to dance with the groom and bride before watching them dance together.

X = eXtra (what’s an interesting fact about them that they don’t tell anyone about?)

He knows a lot of facts about random topics. he retains a lot of information by watching videos, over hearing conversations/lectures, and through experience and if the topic ever comes up, he is able to tell you a random fact about that topic. It surprises everyone that he knows such a fact since it’s so exact. When asked how he knows something like that he just shrugs and says that it’s something he remembers hearing. This same thing goes for when someone has forgotten what they have said, Denki is able to remind them. Even if he wasn’t exactly apart of the conversation, he remembers hearing what they said in passing and is able to remind them of it.

Y = Yuck (what do they hate? Could be a food, sent, word anything)

Food: Grapes

Scent: Damp clothes

Personality trait: Rude

Z = ZZZZ (how heavy of a sleeper are they? How do they sleep? What mood do they wake up in? Really any sleeping headcanons)

He is a pretty heavy sleeper. It’s pretty hard to wake this electro-boy up. It takes you shaking him and calling his name for him to wake up. As for the position his sleeps in, Denki is all over the place. He is in a different position every 30 minutes when he sleeps. If you want him to keep still during the night, you’ll have to cuddle him, keeping your arms secure around his own. However, despite sleeping so poorly, Denki wakes up pretty chipper.

Wanna see some other shit I’ve written?

[queen-rogah]

One of us (Roger Taylor!Ben Hardy x F! Reader)

Summary: Y/N went to Roger's flat to surprise him, but she was surprised by a huge nightmare

Warnings: Angst and Foul Languages

Writer's Note: Hi there! This is actually my very first time to write a fic and I hope you guys will like it! This fic is based from the song ONE OF US by Abba

They passed me by, all of those great romances

You were, I felt, robbing me of my rightful chances

From the time you arrived in London again and feel the cold breeze nipping your skin made you feel so much excited to see the love of your life, Roger. You came home from a family vacation and stayed in the family house for almost a month. You have survived just calling Roger through the phone and writing letters to him even though he can't write you back due to his tour with the band. In the last few weeks, Roger didn't contact you that much so if you call him on the phone, Freddie would be the first one to answer and say that Roger is busy or gone in his flat. You understand his life as a well known rock star and through those endless gigs and parties that Freddie would throw, you sometimes think if Roger have eyes on someone.

My picture clear, everything seemed so easy

And so I dealt you the blow

And now you're back and giddy to see him, probably plant a lot of kisses all over his face by the time he'll open his door of his flat.

You took the taxi with much excitement again and said the address to the driver as he accelerated his way out of the street. You stared at the view of London again, feeling the atmosphere and imagining the reaction that Roger would make to see you home earlier that you have told him. Deep down still have that doubt, but you tried to slip that away and smile to yourself. Remembering that Roger said to you that he'll never break you heart, since you're also the love of his life.

When the vehicle finally stopped in front of the building where Roger's flat is, you gave him the fare and thanked him as you stepped out and stood there. You sighed deeply and quickly went in front of door, you rummaged through your wallet if you have his spare key with you and see there together with your own apartment key. You silently inserted the key and unlocked the door open, tiptoeing inside and closing it softly. You look around the place where all of your memories of him we're made and smiled at the pictures framed on his coffee table. The telly was open, so he's home.

You took off your scarf and set your things aside to look around to find him. No one is in the living room, the kitchen, his another room where his drumkit is, so you look over his room with his door closed. You smiled and made your way towards the door and happily opened it with your excitement

"Love! I'm back!--"

You stopped on your tracks and look clearly to what you're seeing.

It's Roger, sharing a bed with Sherry, the groupie you knew of the band. Your blood run cold and suddenly began to boil. You look over at them, sheets covering their naked bodies and their clothes scattered around the bed. That's the same bed you first had sex with Roger, the bed where you used to lay with him and talk about some things and now, you're seeing another woman in that bed full of damn memories.

"Roger...How fucking dare you--" Tears streaming down your face

"Y/N! I can explain this!." He said as he put on some clothes and tries to hold you, but you kept on stepping back from him until you both are already outside his room.

"Explain Roger?! You have to explain what you did? Oh no, I don't fucking care what kind of explanation you have to say about this. All that I have to say is that you're a cold hearted person and you don't care that you have me, your girlfriend that loves you so much, that needs you so much, that wants to see you much. And then I came home to see this? Fucking your own groupie?! You're fucking disgusting Roger." You sob as your voice became hoarse and rough with the anger and sadness coming over you.

Roger can't talk right now, he's just facing the floor since the words you've said stabbed his heart. What he did to you just didn't stabbed your heart, it broke your heart and shattered it into a million pieces.

"Y/N, please...I can make it up to you, I promise I'll change, I'll change for you." He pleads as he went down his knees, his hands gripping your hands.

"You've hurt me Roger and I can't forgive you. I guess I'm right..." You mumbled and pushed him away from you, walking away towards the living room.

"What do you mean Y/N?."

"I'm right about what I'm thinking about you! These past few weeks, you never call me, so if I tried to call you, Freddie would be the one that will talk to me through your phone. Little did I know you're already fucking that skank of yours and she never thinks that you have me." You smugly said and sarcastically laughs at him. He's so ridiculous.

"Please Y/N, I beg you to forgive me. I swear in my life, I will change..." He said but you didn't listen. You just took your scarf again and took your things.

One of us had to know

Now it's different, I want you to know

"Goodbye Roger Taylor." You said and walk out of his flat with tears still falling down your face. Feeling the broken heart that the person you loved the most gave you. You imagine him crying over you and throwing different things in his flat right now, even kicking out that bitch he have in his bed.

This is the first time you didn't kissed him by the time you came to visit him in his flat.

...

3 YEARS LATER

You laughed with your friends here in this restaurant since its your birthday. The feeling of three years without any partner in your life is the best thing that happened to you. You only surround yourself with positivity in the last years, even though you have gone through the biggest heartbreak that he did, but you did good in the end.

As your friends said that you'll make a wish, you closed your eyes as you wished for endless positivity in the next few years with your family and friends, and to someone that will make your heart flutter. By the time you blow your candles and opened your eyes, your happy expression turns into sadness. Your eyes looked at them, their hands tied together and she, she's so beautiful in that dress she have, her brunette hair perfectly cascades down her back. It's been three years, you promised yourself that you won't be heartbroken if you'll see him because you've move on. Turns out, you haven't.

One of us is crying

One of us is lying

In her lonely bed

Your hands gripped around the metal handle of your luggage. You ran away, away from him. You quickly went to Freddie's flat and pound loudly on his doors, causing some neighbors outside their doors to look at you in annoyance. Freddie has been the friend you have in the group, the friend that gives you advices to your relationship with Roger if anything goes wrong and he's like the peacemaker for the two of you. But now, you don't think he will be the peacemaker after what Roger did to you.

The door opened to see Mary, his girlfriend and you waste no time but to drop your things and hugged her tightly, the tears continuously streamed down your face.

"Y/N? What happened?." She asked as she hugged you back. You both pulled away as she cupped your face, asking what's wrong again, but you can't respond because your tongue is tied and your heart is severely broken.

Then you saw Freddie came in with a shocked look on his face when he see you drowning in your own tears in front of Mary. He quickly approaches you and gave you the biggest and the warmest hug you've ever felt in weeks.

"What happened darling? What's wrong huh?." He asked in his soothing voice as he cupped my face just like Mary did.

"Roger...he..."

"What did he do to you? Did he hurt you?." He asked.

"He's sleeping with Sherry Freddie, the fucking groupie! She's in our bed! I...I came to him from home and that sight of her and Roger broke my heart. Did you know that he and Sherry are already hooking up?." You asked with your voice cracking up.

"No...I do not know about them, but that fucking bastard. He don't control himself and he don't think that you have him! I'm this close to punching that wanker after what he did to you."

"No Freddie, leave him be. Make him suffer with the mess he made. I need to get away from here and find the place I want to spend my lifelong happiness. Just away from him." You said as you calm down.

"Y/N, are you sure about this?." Freddie asked, with Mary who is staring up at you with a questioning look too.

"Yes, I'm very sure. Only you guys will know where I'll be, don't let him find me because I never ever want to see his face in my life anymore."

Staring at the ceiling

Wishing she was somewhere else instead

Weeks later, Freddie found you a place where you can stay in Brighton. Where you can see the view of the ocean and you're only streets away from the pier. The place was peaceful and amazing. It feels like you're isolated from all of the problems you've had. You have contacted your family that you moved out from London, only your family, Freddie and Mary knows where you are. Nobody talks about Roger finding you, but all that you think about is, you will never gone to this biggest heartbreak if you don't fell in love with him. But he's the loveliest man you knew and he had treat you so much like a queen in his life, but what happened?

You stared at the ceiling with your thoughts running around your head. You decided that you will never leave Brighton, you will never go to London and you will never see Roger Taylor anymore. But she's wishing that she was somewhere else, the heartbreak is still there, even though she don't see him anymore, but her heart is still breaking.

One of us is lonely

One of us is only

Waiting for a call

You heared that Roger is finally searching for you. Freddie non-stop calling and updating you about him. You even panicked when you tried to call Freddie on the phone and Roger is gonna be the one that will answer, so you'll just quickly end the call and stare at the dead line.

After all of this, he's now searching for you. So, he's done with Sherry so he needs you again? He's been asking the others where you are but they are keeping their mouths shut and be bombarded with lies. They are trying to protect me and they are trying to avoid me from Roger and I'm thanful for that.

But the part of you wants to call Roger, hear his voice and tell him that you still love him even though it hurts. Stubborn, as they say. Your hand itch with eager whenever you see the telephone, but Freddie's words swim around your mind. Roger isn't worthy, he doesn't deserve your love anymore after what he did.

Those memories in your mind still haunts you after years have passed. Now, your eyes are just looking at them, especially him. When they are looking for their table, you tried to hide yourself with your friends. They noticed that he's around so they act it out. The tears are ready to fall again but when you saw that they are finally sitting down, you turn your look to them again.

Then you heard from the waiter, "What can I get for you Mr. and Mrs. Taylor?." The waiter happily asked.

Your movements stopped as you realized she's his wife. The woman he promised a lifetime of happiness and the woman that he will have his children with. You remembered before that he promised you that you're just the one woman he will marry, but it turns out to be somebody even better than you, and that broke your heart again.

Sorry for herself, feeling stupid feeling small

The feeling that you want to go back i  time and fix to what you did. Roger loved you, you loved Roger, but you wasted it. Every seconds wasted, you never even found someone you will spend your whole life with, but he did and he is now married with her.

You wished that you didn't left, you wished that you have talked to him and you wished that you've changed. Three years have passed and now you're still here, regretting every single thing you did. You loved him, but you let him go. So he found someone else that will love him.

You, you're still drowning with sadness that is built in your heart.

Wishing she had never left at all

[whumpeinsamkeit]

(Read part 1 here.)

Rowan leaves the temple just as the twilight sky begins to fade into a soft pink above the horizon. It’s a chilly morning. The warmest part of the season has ended. He wraps his cloak tighter around himself, watching his breath form little clouds in front of him. He can still hear the sound of the whip in his ears. Better Axyll than me, is his first thought, though he doesn’t really mean such an cruel thing. A sickening pang of guilt and self-hatred wells up inside of him as he walks the cobbled streets toward the Yphe district, toward home.

[MORE]

He stops. No. He can’t go home. Not yet. Not with the way his heart is beating so fast, as if it wishes to pound its way out of his chest. He needs a place where he can calm down, clear his head, distract himself from the trauma he felt while watching Axyll take so many lashes.

He turns down a side street, averting his gaze as he passes the burnt-down apothecary where Axyll was apprehended the night before. The morning breeze swirls through his thin cloak, bites his skin. His power lingers at the tips of his fingers. He orders it back down. I’ve changed. It’s a lie, of course. Just another lie. Shame mixes with his magic as he regrets his action to detach Axyll from his misery. It’s a kindness he himself would have wanted after his father beat him, yet instead of pride, he feels repulsed by the thought of allowing his magic to resurface so much in one night.

Rounding another corner, he can see the little thatch-roofed cottage at the far end of the street. Despite the early hour, his friend will be awake. He’ll take Rowan in, sit him down with a warm cup of cider to take off the chill, listen intently as Rowan recounts the awful memories lurking inside his head for yet another time. There will be a while of peace, then Rowan will go home.

A few timid knocks and he hears a muffled “one moment!” before the door swings open. A young man stands in the entrance, a giddy smile on his face.

“I knew it was you,” he beams, gripping Rowan‘s elbows and kissing both of his cheeks in greeting. “I can always tell.”

He is clothed in embroidered green slacks and a guazy, transparent wrap that hangs loosely about his shoulders, seemingly one breath away from slipping down his arms. Rowan turns his gaze, hiding the warmth that has spread to his cheeks.

“Do you always greet unexpected guests in such unbecoming attire, Naz?”

“You come around here so often, I should hardly call you unexpected.” Nazareth’s lips curve up in a wry smile. “And I believe this outfit is quite becoming on me, don’t you?”

With a soft laugh, Rowan flings himself forward, pressing his hands against Nazareth’s chest and pushing him into the cottage. “You’re impossible. Someone might see you.”

“That, my dear Rowan, is the entire plan,” Nazareth replies. He slides his fingers across the golden choker around his neck. “How else am I to find someone who appreciates my beauty?”

Rowan gently kicks the door shut behind him, moving further into the cottage until he reaches the small room that serves as kitchen, living quarters and dining area in one. Already, he feels his mind clearing of its fog. The interior is much warmer and cosier than the chilly air outside. The scent of wood and exotic spices permeates the air, inviting and safe. “I would rather you find someone who will value you for more than your...your...”

Nazareth’s eyebrows curve upward. The right has a line shaved through it, and Rowan likes to regularly tease him about it. “Attractiveness? Charisma? Assets?”

“Holy stars,” murmurs the younger man, pushing Naz aside so he doesn’t see his smile. “You are full of yourself.”

He shrugs. “Perhaps. I don’t know. What’s this?”

Naz reaches to touch Rowan’s hair. The younger man shivers, but doesn’t pull away.

“What is it?”

A frown crosses his face. “You’ve got a bit of white in your hair, like mine only in reverse.”

Though he is a maji, he doesn’t bear all of the usual traits of one, as if his body refused to be constrained to either magic-wielding or magicless. He is a hybrid. Flecks of gold shimmer in his dark eyes, and his long, curled hair is snowy white save for a stripe of jet that hangs down over his left eye.

Rowan can’t help but think, if his father ever chanced to meet Naz, he would no longer consider his son to be as much a demon as he previously thought. Hybrids are outcasts, rare and seen neither as maji nor as normals. There are many insults directed at their kind. More than once while walking with Naz, Rowan has heard people mutter oksidizêrni — ‘oxygen thief’ — and spit at his hybrid friend as they pass by. Naz doesn’t seem to mind though. He shrugs off every slanderous word, wipes the spit from his face, and carries on with a prouder posture than before. Rowan doesn’t understand how he can be so beautifully proud, so carefree with the humiliation he receives every day.

“I...I used my...magic earlier.” Rowan looks down at the floor, guilt pooling in his gut. “I start to look like I did before if I use it too much.”

Naz reaches to lift his chin. He’s smiling softly, sadness in his dark eyes. “You mean you start to look like your true maji form.” His eyes flicker and his voice lowers further. “Never be ashamed of who you are.”

Rowan opens his mouth to say something, stops. He heaves a long sigh. “I’ll fix the white bits before I leave.”

Removing his hand from Rowan’s chin, Nazareth shrugs. “I will respect your choice. Now, what are you here for?”

Rowan doesn’t answer right away. Instead he heaves another long sigh that turns into a yawn. “May I have some cider? I’ve been up all night.”

With a slight nod, Nazareth pulls out two chairs at the small handcrafted table, one for himself and one for Rowan. Once they are seated, he flicks his wrist and fiery orange magic spreads through his palm and up the length of his fingers. Two steaming clay cups of cider appear in the center of the table. Rowan takes one, holding it in his hands for a long moment to let the warmth seep into his shaking hands before he takes a sip. Naz watches him, a soft smile on his lips as he plays with one of the many gold studs that line his ears.

“It’s delicious,” Rowan murmurs as the spicy liquid slides down his throat, warming his chest. “You should really consider selling these at the marketplace. With the cold months coming, you would probably make a fortune on something as good as this.”

Nazareth seems to contemplate this for a moment, then relaxes in his chair. He brushes a hand through his curls.

“While you and your compliments are ever welcome,” announces Nazareth. “I don’t believe you showed up at my doorstep before the seventh hour for a mere cup of cider, hmm? So, out with it, my friend.”

Silence for a moment. Rowan taps the side of his cup with his fingers. How much to divulge? At such an early hour after a sleepless night, he is bound to say everything on his mind if only to clear his mind enough to rest. Instead, he chooses his words carefully.

“There is a boy I knew,” he begins. “From before. I say knew as if we were...as if we were friends, though in truth we rarely spoke to each other. Axyll is his name. He was an apprentice at the apothecary. Let me read from the astronomy books while his master was away.”

“And something regarding this boy troubles you?” encourages Nazareth. His voice is gentle, reminding Rowan of his own tone while he tried to comfort Axyll.

Rowan grits his teeth and sighs. “He was taken by the Maji Council last night. The most divine one believes he has information about the Other—”

“The Otherworld,” Naz interrupts, startling Rowan, whose eyes widen. “I am correct, am I not?”

“You...you know of it?”

Naz shrugs his shoulder. The edge of his tunic slips down around his arm and he absentmindedly tugs it back up. “Nine, the master you speak of, said—”

Rowan’s chair screeches across the floor as he shoots up from the table. “Stop! Say no more!”

Naz stares at him. “What’s wrong?”

The younger man only shakes his head. If the council learns of Nazareth’s knowledge of the Otherworld, they will come for him, take him from his home, force him to share his information. If he refuses, they will punish him just as they’ve punished Axyll. Holy stars, they’ll order Rowan to beat Nazareth, to take a whip to the only companion he has. And he can’t...he can’t.

“Rowan.”

“No.”

He turns away, trying to swallow past the lump in his throat. Trying to be stronger than he is. He hears Naz leave his chair, the soft pad of his bare feet on the wooden floor, and then Naz is standing behind him, arms locked loosely around him. His forehead rests in the space between Rowan’s neck and shoulder.

“Rowan, please. Tell me. Speak your fears aloud and they will not seem so daunting and unconquerable.”

For a long while, Rowan remains silent, blinking back the tears welling up in his eyes. He remembers the cruel things his father did to him. The scars he’s never let anyone else see. The way his skin crawls at the sight of a whip. He shivers and Nazareth pulls him closer, murmuring reassurances.

“It’s alright, Rowan. You’re here. You’re with me. Whatever is going on inside your head, you can tell me.”

“I can’t,” Rowan moans. “I don’t...I...I don’t know how to say what I’m thinking.”

The other man shifts, cupping Rowan’s chin in his hand and gently turning his head so they’re eye to eye. The gold in Naz’s eyes glimmer in the soft light. “Then don’t speak. Show me.”

His lip trembles. “But the magic—”

“Your father isn’t here. He never has to know. Understand?”

Rowan shuts his eyes, nods once. For the second time today, magic floods out of him, surging into Nazareth. His power transfers the horrible scenarios he’s played out in his mind, the memories of the night before, the awful nightmare of his father’s wrath, which he can’t forget. Nazareth sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, fisting Rowan’s cloak as he experiences the rush of torturous information. Rowan jerks away. The magic disappears from his hands. Naz moans, sways a moment, then falls to his knees. Rowan kneels beside him, hands gripping his friend’s shoulders.

“I...I’m sorry,” he stammers. “I didn’t think...I’m sorry...too much.”

Naz waves him off. “I am...alright.” Then he looks up at Rowan, eyes full of concern. “The council is looking for a way to the Otherworld?”

Something twists inside Rowan’s chest. He hesitates.

“That means...” Naz bites his lip. “They seek anyone who has information.”

Rowan nods. “They’re not going to ask nicely.”

“I see.”

He leans forward, eyes locking with Naz’s. The gold in his friend’s eyes flicker like stars against a black sky. “Do you know something about the portal to the Otherworld?”

He is breathless, silently praying his friend knows nothing more than he himself. Then again, Axyll remembers nothing and he‘s lying in a cell beneath the temple, bloodied and beaten.

“Know something about it?” Naz blinks. The gold flecks shine brighter. “I’m the one who opened it when Nine needed to escape.”