#he said he never once looked at another person during the entire time we were together after getting back together and even turned down peo

[starryarles]

he broke up with me

[amirasainz]

Can you do reader is Landos sister and she’s his whole world but she’s away at school and she surprises lando at a race?

Of course!!! I hope you like this.

Send me some requests and enjoy reading

-XoXo

Little Norris

It was no secret within the paddock that Lando Norris’ favorite person in the entire world was his younger sister, YN. No matter the context—be it interviews, casual conversations, or even playful banter with other drivers—Lando always found a way to bring her up.

The paddock had grown accustomed to hearing him wistfully complain about how much he missed her, and how unfair it was that she was stuck at school, unable to attend the races.

Sadly, this wasn’t just an exaggerated tale; YN was enrolled in St. Paul’s Girls’ School, a prestigious all-girls school in London, where students could only visit their families during weekends and holidays.

However, YN’s academic commitments were so demanding that even those weekends were usually spent buried in books, only leaving the school for holiday visits. Lando’s ever-busy Formula 1 schedule certainly didn’t make things any easier.

So, it came as no surprise to Oscar when Lando began lamenting once again about how much he missed his baby sister.

“I just don’t get why she still has to go to school. It’s miles away, and she can’t even come home on the weekends,” Lando groaned, his expression a mix of frustration and longing. “The last time I saw her was in February, Oscar. FEBRUARY. Can you believe that?”

Oscar, who had heard variations of this complaint countless times before, only raised an eyebrow and responded with a calm, “Really?” knowing full well that Lando wasn’t done yet.

“And to top it off,” Lando continued, his voice rising in exasperation, “I tried calling her yesterday. And instead of picking up, she sent me to voicemail. Voicemail, Oscar! Why would she do that? Do you think she’s mad at me? Oh no, what if Mum finally told her I was the one who ate the last cupcake at Christmas? She’ll never forgive me!”

Oscar couldn’t help but chuckle at Lando’s melodramatic worry, but the constant whining had begun to wear on him. Finally, he placed both hands on Lando’s shoulders, spinning him around to face him directly.

“Lando, relax. I’m pretty sure your mum didn’t tell her about the cupcake incident,” Oscar said, trying to suppress a smile. “She’s probably just busy studying. You know how much school means to her.”

Before Lando could cut him off with another complaint, Oscar pressed on. “Look, we all know how much you adore YN, and you’d probably move mountains to keep her by your side. But you’ve got to understand—she enjoys school. She loves hanging out with her friends, and she’s passionate about her classes. She’s smart, Lando, and she adores you just as much as you adore her. So don’t go saying silly things like this. You know it would make her feel bad.”

Lando let out a deep sigh, the usual playful glint in his eyes dulled by a hint of sadness. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he mumbled, his pout still intact as he was called away by one of the McLaren mechanics.

He gave Oscar a grateful, albeit slightly sheepish, smile before walking off towards the garage.

Oscar watched his teammate disappear into the distance, and once Lando was far enough away, he exhaled deeply, the weight of the secret he’d been holding onto starting to lift. No one had ever told him that lying—even for a good cause—could be so exhausting.

Because, of course, Oscar hadn’t been entirely honest. He was well aware of just how much Lando missed his sister. In fact, he’d spent weeks meticulously planning a surprise that would, if all went smoothly, bring YN right to Lando’s side.

After countless emails, flight arrangements, and some help from McLaren’s logistics team, Oscar had managed to fly 17-year-old YN out to Azerbaijan for the next Grand Prix.

The plan was to keep her arrival under wraps until after qualifying, ensuring Lando could focus on the race without the overwhelming distraction of knowing his favorite person was already there. The last thing anyone wanted was for him to lose focus during such a crucial part of the weekend.

While Lando busied himself with free practice sessions, YN was out exploring the local markets with some of the McLaren team’s family members. She was set to return to the paddock just as Q1 began, hidden away in the garage until the perfect moment.

Oscar had envisioned Lando’s face lighting up with pure joy, his usual calm demeanor shattered by the surprise.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

But things didn’t go quite as planned.

Qualifying that day turned out to be a disaster for Lando. From the very first lap, nothing seemed to go right. He struggled with the car’s balance, fought the understeer in nearly every corner, and couldn’t extract the pace he needed. Sector after sector, frustration built. The radio was filled with agitated comments, and by the end of Q1, he had been knocked out of qualifying altogether, missing the cutoff for Q2 by mere fractions of a second.

When he climbed out of the car, his body language said it all. Lando was livid—frustrated with the car, with himself, and with the result.

His helmet visor remained down longer than usual, as if he wanted to hide his disappointment from the world.

His walk back to the garage was slow, shoulders slumped, as mechanics and engineers exchanged worried glances but kept their distance. No one dared say a word.

Once inside the team’s motorhome, Lando stormed off to his driver’s room, eager for a moment alone. The air in the narrow hallway was thick with tension, and Oscar watched him go as his teammate finally ripped of his helmet, his heart sinking.

He knew Lando was hard on himself, but he also knew what awaited him on the other side of that door.

Lando opened the door to his driver’s room with a frustrated push, expecting to collapse onto the couch and stew in his disappointment. But as soon as he stepped inside, his breath caught in his throat. Standing in the middle of the room, a small, warm smile on her face, was YN.

“Surprise,” she said softly, her eyes twinkling as she took in her brother’s shocked expression.

For a split second, Lando didn’t move. He just stood there, staring at her, as if his brain needed a moment to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. Then, suddenly, it all hit him at once—the weeks of missing her, the frustration of the race weekend, the love he felt for his little sister—and his eyes immediately filled with tears.

“YN...” His voice cracked as he whispered her name.

Without another word, Lando rushed forward and pulled YN into a tight hug, burying his face into her shoulder as if he were afraid she might vanish if he let go.

His arms wrapped around her protectively, squeezing her like a lifeline. YN, used to Lando’s emotional side, simply hugged him back, gently running a hand through his hair.

“I missed you so much,” Lando mumbled into her shoulder, his voice muffled but thick with emotion. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I missed you too, Lan,” YN whispered, a soft laugh escaping her. “Oscar helped organize it. He said you’ve been whining about me non-stop.”

Lando laughed, a watery chuckle escaping him as he finally pulled back to look at her, his hands still resting on her shoulders. His eyes were red and glassy, but his smile was the brightest it had been in weeks.

“You have no idea how much better this makes everything,” he said, his voice still shaky with emotion. “I had the worst qualifying. But... you're here now.”

YN smiled at him, brushing a tear from his cheek. “I’m sorry I missed qualifying, but I’m here for the race tomorrow. We’ll celebrate then, okay?”

Lando nodded, pulling her back into another tight hug, resting his chin on top of her head. “I don’t care about the race right now,” he muttered, his voice soft. “I’m just happy you’re here.”

For the next few minutes, they simply stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten.

Lando’s earlier frustrations seemed to evaporate, replaced by a warmth that only YN could bring him. He felt calmer, more grounded, like a weight had been lifted from his chest.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door, and Oscar poked his head in with a cheeky grin. “You okay in here? Thought I’d check in before I’m accused of kidnapping your sister.”

Lando turned around, still holding YN close, and flashed Oscar a grateful smile. “Mate, I don’t even know what to say. You’ve made my year.”

Oscar laughed, stepping into the room. “I figured you could use a pick-me-up. I was getting tired of the constant whining.”

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

Suddenly, Lando’s mood shifted entirely, the disappointment from qualifying now a distant memory.

His eyes sparkled with excitement. “Right, we need to introduce you to everyone!” He glanced down at YN, who chuckled in response.

“I’ve already met some of them,” she teased, “but I’m sure they’ll appreciate your grand tour.”

“Trust me, it’s different when I introduce you,” Lando said proudly, his arm slung around her shoulders. He led her out of the room, a new energy in his step as if the earlier qualifying session had never even

With his little sister by his side, the world already looked a lot brighter than it did that morning.

[ayamari-no-goshi]

I’d like to clear up some common misconceptions about the Attack on Titan Tower, aka when Jason infiltrated it to attack Tim

If you want to read this for yourself, here are some links: readallcomics - I have the best luck with this site on destop zipcomic readcomicsonline - this site can be temperamental

1) Jason did not go there to attempt to kill Tim

Jason seems to have 3 separate goals for this: - size up the new kid. - make sure he knows Bruce just sees him as another soldier - prove to Tim just how dangerous the job is (heavily implied, in my opinion, especially after Tim tried telling Jason he was wrong about how Bruce saw him) He also voiced his anger over being forgotten by everyone. Depending on your interpretation of Jason and his character, this could also be a reason. To me, this feels more like an afterthought because they moved to the Hall of Fallen Heroes before he said this, and Jason likes to be dramatic.

Side note on this. Jason never says anything about being replaced.

2) none of Tim’s injuries were life threatening

Once again, Jason was not attempting to kill him. He beat him up pretty badly, but it was designed to prove a point

3) Jason did NOT cut Tim’s throat.

That happened during Hush which predates both Under the Red Hood and Titan’s Tower. Jason was pretending to be Hush, put a knife to Tim’s throat, and put enough pressure to make him bleed (it was not an actual slice) to get Bruce to react to him. That injury was not life threatening either

4) Jason developed a respect and a bit of envy for Tim after fighting him

At the end of the issue while he’s leaving (while outside the tower), Jason acknowledges Tim’s skill. Jason also wonders if he could have had a life more similar to his, where he had friends and a better support system, if he could have had a different life.

5) Tim was NOT a damsel in distress during the fight, and he did NOT develop a fear of Jason.

Tim was making quips and dissing Jason the entire fight. Tim was not afraid of him nor did he bat an eye at being attacked by Jason. He also vocalized just how much he had to work for his cape because of how Jason's death affected Bruce

Also, the next time Tim saw Jason after this, he made sure to kick Jason in the groin

6) Jason wrote "Jason Todd was here" and signed it with a hand print on the wall.

It looks like it could be in blood, but Tim's not injured enough for there to be that much... and blood darkens after a while. There's a bit of time between Tim getting knocked out and the rest of the Titans finding him and the writing so it's probably paint. Again, Jason likes to be dramatic

7) more Robin!Jason slander by Raven

Once again, we get the mention that Jason was "aggressive". I swear, this is the only thing writers remember from Death in the Family and not the point that that behavior was out of the ordinary for Jason. This is a personal pet peeve of mine in the comics.

8) almost forgot to add the most important part, Jason made a homemade Robin costume and wore it under his Red Hood outfit because he could

Again, Jason is a dramatic bitch.

[hippopotamusdreamer]

This Is Pure Betrayal

genre. [A]

warnings. Just hurt feelings all around. Mention of the word "verbal abuse" but none is said.

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, reader is aged between Hyunjin and Han.

If you or someone you know is being bullied, there are things you can do to keep yourself and others safe from bullying.

pairing. OT8 x 9th member

w.c. 1.2K

synopsis. When you need your members the most, they weren't there for you.

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

Part 2

JYPE’s Stray Kids under fire once again as allegations against newest member Y/L/N Y/N begin to arise.

An anonymous individual shared a detailed account on an online forum, recalling instances of alleged verbal abuse by Y/N during their high school years.

Former schoolmates from Jeil High School alleged that the singer was a significant bully and juvenile delinquent during her school years.

You sat with your group members in the meeting room of the JYP Entertainment Building. Most of them looking stressed. Your foot bounced agitatedly as your leg was crossed over the other.

Three news articles lay displayed for the entire room to see. The recent allegations against your person was stirring up old memories of when Hyunjin’s scandal happened. Though you weren’t a part of SKZ when it came out, you understood how hard this must be for everyone.

All this morning, you had been hounded by upper management about this scandal hitting the news. Only, you hadn’t known it at the time…

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It had started with nonstop message notifications going off on your phone by your personal manager, Heejin, that woke you up. You were never a morning person so you were already upset on the one day you could sleep in. Instead of checking your messages though, you put off looking at them until after breakfast.

But then group manager called Chan two bites into your food to have everyone come in for an emergency meeting. There was a nagging feeling in the back of your head that wouldn’t go away. These two things were related, you weren’t sure why or how but they were.

On the ride to JYPE, you finally got around to checking the messages Heejin had sent. Yet, they were all cryptic and with no real information given. So you were left in the dark regardless.

As soon as the door closed on the nine member group, you, Y/L/N Y/N, were being grilled with no chance to say your peace.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

So here you sat about an hour later. Angry.

You never got angry. Upset maybe, disappointed sure, but never angry. You tried to keep your breathing steady but it was hard. Your jaw was tightened and you could feel a tick about to start. Brows furrowed, you stared a hole in front of you as the managers talked over themselves blaming each other and yourself.

“I’m not going to apologize,” you said with a tone that left no room for compromise. Arms crossed; you continued to stare down at the table before you, refusing to look at anyone.

You heard one of the boys tsk in irritation, Lee Know probably, and a few of them changed positions in their seats. Most likely uncomfortable with the atmosphere and having to deal with this all over again.

The managers decided to leave in that moment to give you all time to talk to one another. Changbin got up from his seat and began to pace behind the group. Chan sat immediately to your left, rubbing at the back of his neck to release the tension that had gathered there.

“Look, Y/N-ah, we won’t be upset. Just tell us everything that happened so that the company can handle it,” Chan sighed out.

Your nails bit into your arms as he spoke up. Not even letting you get a say in even after the managers left. Just picking up were they stopped.

“Noona…,” the youngest of the group spoke up hesitantly.

Jeongin’s voice made you freeze. All the anger you had felt until then melted away into betrayal. Because you know what he was about to ask. Just like Chan and the other’s, I.N also didn’t give you the benefit of the doubt.

“Did you really—”

“Yang Jeongin,” you cut him off equally as quiet. You still couldn’t look at him, at any of them. “I know I haven’t been with you all for even a full year yet but I would have hoped you would know me by now. At least a little.”

From your peripherals, you could see a few of them flinch at your cold demeanor.

Changbin had stopped moving behind you as you got up from your spot. You could feel the familiar prickle in your nose as you started to get emotional. It had been a while since you felt this distance from them. They had ripped open the space between you so easily it was as if it were a cheap chip bag. Like the efforts on both your parts didn’t even matter with how easily they accused you.

Nodding, you hugged yourself tighter, closing yourself off from them and they could feel it. You pulled away from them in this moment as you walked away towards the door. They watched as your shoulders slumped forward and the usual vibrancy that you held within was nowhere to be found.

You cleared your throat and spoke to the floor rather than at the eight remaining men in the room. “If anyone had bothered to let me talk at least once during this whole interrogation, cause that’s what this was, let’s be honest. Or at least retained what you had learned about me in general, this would have all been over before it even started.”

You bit at your lip to keep it from trembling but they were easily able to catch the warble in your voice.

“I never went to school in Korea. To make matters worse, I even told you about this, Felix. I graduated high school in America. In fact, I was even going surprise you all with physical invitations when they arrived next week, but I am going to officially graduate from an accredited American university this December. I have been doing online classes for the past few years and have worked with my academic advisors and professor’s for the classes that had to have been in person. Yay me...

So no, I will not be apologizing for something that my vast amount of anti's clearly lied about.”

“Noona,” Seungmin’s soft timbre was heard. You looked at him briefly but it was enough for all eight of them to see how red your eyes became in a matter of seconds. You could see his and Felix’s hearts breaking on their faces.

“As of this moment, I don’t feel comfortable being near you all right now. Um, for my well-being, I’m going to go hang out with ITZY for a while. Probably stay with them at their dorm for the night or the next three.”

“Y/N-ah—”

“Don’t worry,” you cut Chan off now. “I’ll be on time for practice the day after tomorrow Christopher leader-nim, I promise. Hopefully, you’ll take my word for it this time.”

The door didn’t slam as you left the room. It somehow managed to close softly behind you. Though none of them would have faulted you if it did. They would have almost preferred it over this closed off version of yourself.

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” Han exhaled in despair. Every one of them sharing the same sentiment.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The next day while you were eating cereal with Chaeryeong, your phone pinged with a notification from the FANS app. Opening it up, you noticed it was the official statement the company put out on your behalf before swiping out of there and locking your phone.

You didn’t want to deal with it or anything revolving around it until you absolutely had to; which wouldn’t be for another day.

You wanted more cereal.

a/n. What did y'all think about their Lollapalooza set??

This was a little idea that popped in my head in-between my work at my internship. I have one week left until it's over, then I get a week off before school starts up again on the 19th.

Tag list: @elizalabs3

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

[l3tm31nn0w]

At His Mercy

Mr. Reed (Heretic) x fem reader

You’re a PhD theology student wasting time at religious convention, bored out of your mind until you meet a charismatic older man who shares your interest in religion and blasphemy.

Warnings: p in v sex, religious trauma, age gap (reader is of age, nearly 30), degradation, oral (m and f receiving), overstimulation, wax play, religion used in an erotic way

(I have never written fanfic in my LIFE that’s how down bad I am for this man, forgive me if this is a mess lol)

You walked up to the mediocre coffee station for the third time that morning, preparing to stay awake through another dull lecture. It was day two of the Colorado Theology Conference and you had lost patience halfway through day one. You had hoped for more academic and agnostic speakers, but so far you’d heard nothing but actual Christian pastors and priests rambling on about the state of modern religion. For Christ sakes the keynote speaker was a goddamn prosperity preacher! You had to stay as long as could to please the big wigs at the university, each program had to send a PhD candidate for “professional development” and this was all they could find for religious studies. Lucky you.

As you poured the burnt coffee into your already stained styrofoam cup you glanced around the table trying to spot the little creamer cups to no avail. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You said under your breath, clearly louder than intended. “Well there’s always sugar!” You whipped your head to the direction of the voice, fearing youd get scolded by some pastor for daring to curse. The voice, a posh British accent that felt out of place in this cursed convention center, belonged to a middle aged man. He had a kind smile that reached his blue eyes effortlessly. He produced three small sugar packets and handed them to you. “I wish I could drink it black but I can’t handle the bitterness.” He chuckled as you mixed the packets into your cup. You smiled back at him and squinted to read his name tag, delighted that pastor was missing from his name. “Thank you Mr. Reed, I’m just glad to see a man that’s not a preacher in this room.”

His eyes traveled across your body and you almost called him out but he spoke before you could say anything. “I take it you’re not a woman of the cloth yourself, I hate to judge a book by its cover but I doubt many Christian churches would want that on display.” He pointed to the tattoo on your sternum. You giggled and relaxed, realizing he hadn’t been in ogling you, he’d simply been looking at your tattoo. He was the first person this weekend to look at it and smile, most had sneered at you once they realized what it depicted, not that any of them really knew beyond thinking it was a demon. “I know it’s not a good look for an old man like myself to be staring at a young ladies chest, but indulge me” his posh voice lowered with the last words and you felt yourself growing unexpectedly warm. “That fellow there” he said point towards collarbone “is Asmodeus, yes?” You looked up at him, realizing how handsome he really was up close. He had a classic attractiveness to him that no doubt made him popular when he was younger, but there was a bookish innocence to him even at his older age that drew you in. His instant recognition of the demon on your chest must’ve made you visibly light up because he beamed a smile right back at you. “You’re the first person to actually know who he is this entire weekend! I’ve gotten lots of comments but I’m sure you can imagine they were less than kind based on the crowd we have here.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded, enthusiastically agreeing with you about the overly zealous convention goers.

Relieved to have met someone with a more academic background you blurted out “I’m Y/N! Please sit with me during the next lecture? I think I’ll die if I’m stuck sitting between anymore church moms or worship leaders.” He smiled again, making the crows feet surrounding his blue eyes wrinkle up. “Absolutely Y/N, but only if we can sit in the back and whisper nasty jokes about whatever nonsense is being said on stage.” You laughed, a genuine laugh, and began walking towards the ballroom where the next lecture was taking place.

“So what brings you here Mr. Reed? You must be an academic if you’re not a Bible thumper like all these people. Forgive me for judging a book by its cover as well, but you must be a professor?” He certainly looked like one with autumnal colored cardigan, grey slacks and large clear rimmed glasses. “Oh goodness no, you flatter me! I’m just an old man with an interest in religion. I’ve been studying it for decades at this point. I’ve been to quite a few of these things, but usually they’re filled with academics not religious nuts. I think this one was advertised a bit incorrectly. I’m guessing you’re on your way to being a professor though?” He quiered back at you. “Yes, I’m getting my PhD in religious studies. I’ve been into religion as long as I can remember as well, I guess not as long as you. Oh god sorry that was rude!” You blushed a bright red realizing you’d called Mr. Reed old. He simply laughed and said “Darling don’t apologize for having eyes, I’ve clearly got a few decades on you! You must be what? 30 at most?” The blush from early only deepened at the pet name. Attempting to gain composure you coughed and replied “30 in April!” “Trust me, I’m ancient history compared to you.”

The two of you settled into the back row of the ballroom and you nodded toward the speaker, a Baptist minister who looked like he’d been alive during the crucifixion. You lowered your voice to a whisper “well not as ancient as HIM.” Mr. Reed stifled his laughter, a challenge you both attempted and mostly failed as you whispered back and forth for the next hour.

After the lecture the two of you slinked out the back worried you’d get a talking to for being too loud during the lecture. You looked at the paper schedule from your pocket and sighed “the damn keynote is next. I don’t think I can handle that grifter.” Mr. Reed grimaced in agreement. He looked down at his watch and then up at you. “Would you allow me to take you lunch darling?” There was the pet name again and with it came a flush in your cheeks. You chewed your lip, deliberating it. You were supposed to sit through the scheduled lectures and bring back notes for your thesis team, a way to prove the university’s investment in professional development wasn’t wasted even though it most certainly was in this instance. You looked up at Mr. Reed, studying his expression. You wanted to know more about this mysterious religious enthusiast full of dirty jokes who got excited by demons. Surely he had stories that would be more impactful than that prosperity preacher! You lied to yourself saying it was purely academic when in reality the heat pooling in your stomach was getting hard to ignore. You’d always fancied older men, but until now it was always talk. Always a day dream. Here was a handsome older gentleman who had a lot in common with you who was seemingly flirting without being creepy. You couldn’t let this chance pass. “It would be my pleasure! Let’s get out of here.” Your new companion’s face lit up and he guided you out the door of the convention hall. “Don’t laugh at how cliche this is, but there’s a rather good English pub down the road how does that sound?” You tightened your scarf around your face and nodded, a slight giggle escaping at that suggestion coming from the posh accent.

After a couple of blocks you’d reached your destination and settled into a booth at the back of the dark, cozy pub. “Can I ask a personal question that may be slightly uncomfortable?” Mr. Reed posited. You were becoming slightly infatuated and really had nothing to lose at this point. “I’m an open book, ask away!” “What is your reasoning for getting our good friend asmodeus etched upon your lovely collarbone? I know you’re far too smart for the standard answer of “he looks neat.”” You knew this would be coming the second he had recognized the demon on your chest. If you were going here, you wanted to play with him a little. “Well Mr. Reed, I can answer that, but first I need you to tell me what you know about Asmodeus.” Your older companion smiled at you dangerously and began, “Well, he’s present in all the abrahamic religions, usually as a demon king. He’s closely associated with the Angel Raphael. And, forgive me for being so crass, I hope this last reason may have motivated your tattoo: in the late Middle Ages the Malleus Maleficarum posited that he was the demon of lust.” His final word went straight to your core. You were almost dizzy from the rush of endorphins hitting you, sure it was hot that was boldly and blatantly flirting with you, but his knowledge of all the things that interested you the most may have been even sexier to you. You smiled coyly. “It’s your lucky day then Mr. Reed. His association with lust was absolutely the motivating factor.” He grinned at you and gave a look suggesting he wanted you to elaborate. “I was raised Catholic. My parents were all about it, we were constantly volunteering at the church. So at one point in high school me and this friend, Gabe, are put in charge of cleaning out the sensors. One day I walk in and see the parish priest trying to put a move on Gabe and I put myself between them. I tell the creep I’m running straight to the diocese and to my parents to get his ass fired. Well by the time I get home my mother is SCREAMING at me calling me a whore of Babylon, a jezebel. My father won’t look me in the eye. Turns out the creep priest had called my house and told my mom he caught me and Gabe fornicating in the church office and that Gabe told him I let all the other high school altar boys take turns with me. Obviously none of it was true, I was a virgin and Gabe was in the closet, which father creep knew and probably used to get Gabe to fall into line with his story. For the rest of high school I was the Catholic school slut and that came with all the cat calling and groping you can imagine. You’d think that would break my spirits when it came to religion, but it had been with me so long I couldn’t let it go. I didn’t believe the way my family did, but the stories, the imagery it all meant so much to me. So I fuck off at 18 and go to college in a different state for theology. Turns out I’m good at it. I graduate with honors. I get into a top choice masters program. I graduate from that program with honors. I know I’m hot shit and I feel like I’m hot shit and that I’ve come a long long way from being the Catholic school slut so I find the perfect image of Asmodeus and get him smack dab in the middle of my slut chest. Because he’s more than lust, he’s power, he’s danger. It’s a shame though, I spent so much time with my head in a book I never got to live up to my alleged Catholic slut persona.”

The second you finish your story your confidence falters and you feel your cheeks flush. You cannot believe you just shared all that with this man you’ve only known for a few hours. Mr. Reed broke the silence by quietly saying “You’re extraordinary.” You could tell he was being sincere and it made your heart beat faster. If he kept this up your old reputation may come true. “Well now you know my edgy religious trauma backstory, let’s hear yours!” He chuckled. “Well I can’t say I was ever accused of being the town harlot, though I don’t think I’d fit that part visually anyway.” You rolled your eyes at him, sick of his subtle self deprecation. He had to know he was handsome. Sure, he was old enough to be your father, but his age suited his features. The lines around his mouth and eyes came to life when he smiled. His greying hair was touseled in that messily attractive sort of way. The large glasses that sat in his face added to the sexy professor vibe he gave off. “Honestly I’ve got no tragic backstory. I’ve just craved the connection to a higher power since as long as I can remember. I wasn’t raised religious so as soon as I could read I started searching for the one true god. There’s so many religions is exhausting. Each of them have their own special qualities, but there was always something that let me down. I learned literally as much as I could. I’ve collected so many books and artifacts that my house looks like a damned theology museum. Then I found it. After my years and years and years of searching. I found the one true religion, the one true god.” He said those final words very seriously which contrasted greatly with his general quirky demeanor. You let out a little gasp. “So you’re not agnostic or an atheist then? I just assumed the way we were talking with each other you were agnostic like me!” “I was the picture of agnosticism for many many years. I don’t know what my discovery makes me. There’s no way to describe it.” Ok, now you were a little nervous. Was the handsome academic before you secretly a cult freak? He clearly sensed your discomfort and lightened the mood. “Enough of that though, you’re not some religious nut who needs to be convinced. I respect a solid agnostic. It’s good to be open to anything.” You smiled back at him, feeling just a bit more at ease.

You continued to chat about yourselves and various religious facts and oddities as you ate. Eventually you exited the restaurant and realized how long you’d been lost in conversation. The sun had begun to set and you weren’t quite ready to leave your new companion. His assertion of knowing the one true religion wouldn’t leave your mind. An old building across the road caught your eye. You looked over to Mr. Reed, his nose starting to flush pink with the cold. “Humor me?” You said as you stuck your gloved hand out to him. He smiled and placed his much larger hand in yours. You pulled him across the road and into the old stone building, a rundown yet still beautiful Catholic Church.

Despite your distaste for your family and your upbringing, you always felt a warmth and a comfort inside a Catholic Church. This one was small, but still had all the hallmarks of a cathedral: stained glass, wooden carvings of the stations of the cross, a giant crucifix of Christ in all his gory glory dead center of the aisle. You always found that there was a certain blasphemous sensuality in the depictions of Christ. Maybe you weren’t beating the Catholic slut allegations after all.

As you guided Mr. Reed into the church you paused to anoint yourself with holy water, old habits die hard after all. He skipped the water but followed you as you trailed around the church, your eyes on the architecture and decor, his eyes never leaving you. You finally settled into a few towards the front near the donation candles. The two of you were the only occupants and you closed your eyes, savoring the moment. Eyes still closed, you rested your hand on his and whispered “Thank you for seeing me. Nobody has ever seen me the way that you have.” You were met with silence, but his larger hand covered yours. After a continued moment of silence you opened your eyes and turned to him. “Please. What is this one true religion you believe so much in? I have to know. I can’t fathom parting ways and never knowing.” He looked at you very seriously. “Are you sure you want to know?” “Please.” You whispered desperately. “Ok, then close your eyes again.” He said in a hushed tone. You did as you were told and you felt him brush a strand of hair behind your ear. He leaned in close enough that you could feel his lips graze your ear and whispered “Control.”

Your entire body felt as if it was engulfed in flames. You squeezed the hand that still remained in your grasp and your eyes fluttered open. His gaze was hungry. You stared directly at him and said, louder than any of your previous conversation in the church, “Mr. Reed I think I’d like you to take me to see that theology museum you mentioned earlier.” “Of course darling.” In stark contrast to the way you had lazily lead him by his hand into the church, he quickly lead you out with his hand pressed firmly onto the small of your back. The old woman working the volunteer desk shot the two of you a puzzled look, she had no doubt assumed you were father and daughter until she saw the way his hand rested just above your ass.

He whisked you back to the convention hall parking lot and opened his car door for you, ever the gentleman. He had asked if you’d driven to the convention and if you wanted to drive separate, but you had ubered from your modest student housing. The two of you continued to make conversation as you had all evening, Mr. Reed even mentioning specific artifacts he would show you when you arrived at his house. Despite this the sexual tension was thick and heavy in his small sedan. A small part of you was screaming to yourself that this was insane and reckless, going to a second location with a man you just met today. But you had secretly wanted your day to end this way nearly the second you met him. His course whisper of the word control had sent you over the edge. All you do is think and decide and it gets so fucking exhausting. The idea of turning yourself over to him to do with you as he liked was just too good to pass up.

He pulled up to his house and opened up the car door, leading you into his house. You couldn’t help but smile as you walked in. It was adorable. It had the soft welcoming quality of a grandparents house. You wouldn’t dare say this aloud for fear of making him self conscious about his age. “Oh Mr. Reed your house is lovely! It’s so cozy!” You exclaimed. He smiled at you and then noticed you were shivering. “Cup of tea to warm you through?” He asked. You nodded and he disappeared into the kitchen. You settled onto a couch and before long he returned with two cups of tea. As he handed you yours his fingers brushed your hand for an extended moment and it sent shocks through you. Much to your embarrassment he noticed and winked. You drank your tea and continued to talk aimlessly until finally he said “Would you like to see some of my collection?” You nodded enthusiastically. Sure, “seeing his theology museum” was a ploy for him to take you home and fuck you senseless, but you also were dying to see his collection and he knew it.

He grabbed your hand and guided you down a dimly lit hallway into a large office. It was chock full of books, artifacts and paintings. You could’ve lost hours in here. He had things from just about every religion you’d ever heard of, there were probably a ton that you had no clue about. He let you wander around for a moment then retreated into a corner, returning with an intricate crucifix. “I think you’ll love this one, I saw how you looked at the one at the church.” He handed it over to you and you brought it close to your face to inspect the detailed paint job. It was a wooden carving, probably late medieval or early northern renaissance. The paint had faded, but the details of Christ’s wounds still shone a bright red. You rubbed your finger absentmindedly up the naked torso of the figurine and you felt Mr. Reed’s breath on your neck. “I watched you look upon the lord in that church and could tell your thoughts weren’t so holy. Is that your grand rebellion against your upbringing? Fantasizing about fucking Jesus?” You whipped around and faced him, your lips nearly touching. His pale eyes bore into you and for the first time this evening you were genuinely speechless. That serious, almost scathing tone from back at the church had returned. “How many times have you sat up late at night and touched yourself looking at him while you study? Do your droll professors know you’re soaking through your panties when they’re running through their slides?” Your face had to be deep red at this point and he was clearly relishing in your embarrassment. “When was the last time you got fucked y/n?” You looked away from him and that was all the answer he needed. “At what point today did you start imagining me fucking you?” He asked smugly. You thought back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment your thoughts turned to sin. “When you pointed out my tattoo. I thought you were checking me out, but realized you were genuinely curious about the tattoo. You knew what he was.” His eyebrow raised, seemingly pleased and shocked at your answer. “I thought you were handsome from the moment you handed me the sugar packets, I have eyes after all, but your intelligence is what sent a fire through me.”

You felt brave and brought your hands up to his hair, rifling your fingers through his soft greying locks. He closed his eyes and hummed an approval. After you broke the seal by touching him, he finally placed his hands around your waist and pulled you towards him, your chests flushed against each other. Your lips were barely grazing when he whispered

“Behold, you are beautiful, my love;

    behold, you are beautiful;

    your eyes are doves.”

Who was this man? One second he’s degrading you, the next he’s holding you tenderly quoting the Song of Solomon.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he broke the small gap and kissed you. It was a a chaste kiss, perhaps revealing he simply talked a big game and he himself hadn’t had a lover in some time. That was fine by you, there was something alluring about breaking him in. You went in for another kiss, hotter and heavier than his, your hands gripping his scalp, a moan building in the back of your throat. You broke the kiss and began placing kisses across his face and neck, settling in to craft a hickey on his right side. You left his neck with a pop, satisfied by the red mark left behind. You whispered into his ear “and when was the last time you fucked, Mr. Reed?” He brought his hands up to your face, pulling it to look him in the eye. “I must confess darling it’s been quite a minute. Once you reach my age the options slim out. I’m also not one to just stick my cock in whatever makes itself available. You, my dear, are special. And if you’ll let me, I can show you that while it may have been awhile for me, I promise you I’m not out of practice.” You answered him with another kiss. He smiled and released you, causing you to frown at the lack of contact.

“Give me just one second!” He called back to you as he began running around his office. He began putting together what you could only describe as a nest in the middle of the floor laying blankets and pillows around. He grabbed your hand and guided you to the floor. “Now darling, will you let me show you how a man treats a lady? I doubt those piddly little boys you’ve messed around with had a clue how to make your body sing.” His words went straight to your core. The idea of an age gap alone always turned you on, the allure of an experienced, tender older man who knew how to treat a lady. You let him lay you down and said “I’m at your mercy now Mr. Reed.”

He lay next to you and resumed kissing you passionately. As he slipped his tongue into your mouth he began slipping his hand under your sweater. “What a good Catholic slut you are!” He mused, pinching one of your nipples. You rarely ever wore a bra, especially under your thick winter sweaters. You let out a soft moan in response. He massaged your breast further and you stifled another moan. “Darling it’s just us, you can do better than that. “O come, let us sing to the LORD; let us make a joyful noise”” He tweaked your nipple at the end of the quote and you moaned deeply, both at the stimulation and the persevere use of a psalm. He pulled your sweater off leaving your chest bare, the cold air hardening your nipples. He wasted no time taking one into his mouth, licking and sucking while he stimulated the other with his hand. It was all going straight to your core, you needed him to touch you where it mattered.

“Please” you huffed out. He brought his face close to yours and asked “Please what? You’re a big girl use your words.” Your face flushed, suddenly feeling a wave of embarrassment. You were never one to talk dirty or ask for specifics when you had sex, you always worried it would kill the mood. Deep down you knew this was part of the turn on for him though so you managed to sputter out “Please play with my pussy. I need it, I need it so bad it hurts.” He places a kiss on your forehead and replied “what a good girl using her words. How I could I ever deny you.” Despite the slight condescending tone, the use of “good girl” made you moan. He would remember this.

He brought his hand down to your jeans and rubbed through the thick material. It did practically nothing and you knew this was just another ploy for you to beg him using your words. “Mr. Reed please please touch me bare, please I need your fingers.” He smiled and began sliding your jeans off. He chuckled when he got to your underwear. “Listen I didn’t imagine I’d be getting lucky at the religious convention!” You squeaked out hiding your face. You’d absentmindedly thrown on a pair of boy short style underwear patterned with French fries. “Is it too forward to say suddenly I’m craving a McDonald’s?” You playfully kicked his leg and you both chuckled. “I would never allow a poor old man to starve.” You replied faux dramatically.

As he went to pull down your underwear he exclaimed “my god, am I this powerful? These are sopping wet.” It was true, he’d been turning you on for hours at this point and by the time you’d made it back to his little chapel your underwear was so wet it almost felt like you’d had an accident. “Then do something about it!” You huffed. He pulled the garment down your legs and you were finally laid bare before him. You had no clothes on and he had everything still on, down to the grandpa cardigan. Laid out in his office decorated like a church you felt like a sacrifice. That only turned you on more.

He pulled your legs apart as wide as they could go and gazed up your sex. Despite his academic cool guy demeanor, you were really beginning to see just how turned on he was. His face was flushed, his hands trembled slightly as they gripped your thighs. His erection was straining through his trousers, clearly large enough for you to have plenty of fun with later. He moved his hands from your thighs to your vulva and spread you open, sighing lustfully as he did. He took an index finger and rimmed it around your entrance, gathering your juices before bringing his finger in lazy circles around your clit. You moaned, a deep guttural moan. You were too caught up in the ecstasy of finally being touched to see just how much this affected him. He continued to slowly stroke you while he brought his lips back to your nipple, sucking and nibbling. The dual stimulation was heavenly. He brought his lips to your ear and whispered “Darling may I taste you?” You moaned at the thought and then, in a moment of theological clarity, caressed his cheek and replied “My beloved has gone down to his garden, to the beds of spices, to browse in the gardens and to gather lilies. I am my beloved's and my beloved is mine; he browses among the lilies.” He seemed just as turned on by religious quotation as you, his eyes widened before he slunk back down to your pussy, spreading it wide before feasting upon you.

He took an experimental lick from your entrance to your clit and you cried out. Clearly amused by your reaction, he focused on your clit, alternating between licking and sucking in a painfully slow fashion. You were moaning in a way you would’ve considered deeply embarrassing had you had the clarity to hear yourself: a high pitched whiny squeal that sounded like something out of a porno. This entire scenario, the dashing older man eating out the young bookish girl, was straight out of a porn so perhaps your wailing was fitting.

As you felt your climax build, he cruelly pulled away. “Noooo don’t stop please!” You whined, lightly kicking his arm. He looked up at you and you found that his gaze had shifted back to the confident, predatory one you’d seen at the actual church. He climbed up your body until you were face to face and he held your chin in a strong grasp. “Are you going to be a good girl? Because only good girls get to cum.” You nodded frantically. “You said earlier you were at my mercy, I’m going to put that to the test now. If you disobey me I’ll leave you crying on the floor with no release and no chance at getting my cock.” Your eyes widened, what on earth did he mean with his test? Your mind was too clouded with lust to question anything. You needed him. “Anything Mr. Reed I’ll do anything you want. I’m your good girl please let me show you.” He chuckled at your desperation. “Wait right here then my good girl, I need to grab some things. Something from me and something from you.”

He left you laying on the floor wondering what he could possibly mean by something from you. After what felt like ages he returned. In his hands he held an ornate candlestick with the Virgin Mary carved into the side. A deep red candle was affixed to the top. “This” he said setting the candle on the ground “is from me.” He rifled into his cardigan pocket for something. “And this is from you. I think most people would say good girls don’t carry this in their purse, but I would wager I’m not most people.” He produced a small black rubber ball with a small hole at the top. You stared at in, confused, and then realization set in. It was a vibrator. You had gone out to lunch with your roommate from undergrad a week ago and she had given it to you as a joke, calling it your date for Valentine’s Day. She’d been married with kids for 5 years at this point and constantly nagged at you to settle down so the vibrator was par for the course, a usual humiliation from her. At the time you’d rolled your eyes at her and thrown it in your bag forgetting about it. Your companion must have rifled through your belongings when you got up to use the bathroom at the restaurant. He sat down on the floor and motioned for you to come to him. “Lay against me pet.” He said patting his chest. You backed into him, your ass against his straining erection and your head leaning back onto his shoulder. It was almost too intimate a position for a one night stand. If that’s all this was.

“Here is what’s going to happen. I am going to take this candle, light it, and drip its wax down your delectable body. While I’m doing that I will be holding this vibrator firmly against your clit. Now I know I’m not some big muscle freak, but I am certainly strong enough to hold you down and I will do so. You will not cum until I give you permission. If you agree to this right now I will not listen to any pleas of stop or no, but I know that you won’t dare even utter those words.” Your heart was racing and you felt yourself grow even wetter, something you didn’t think was possible at this point. Earlier when you’d mentally imagined fucking your new friend you’d imagined he would kiss you and fondle your breast a little before fucking you in missionary. You’d never anticipated wax play and edging from an aging British amateur theologian.

“I told you Mr. Reed. I’m at your mercy.” You huffed out, snuggling your head into his neck as if to prove how serious you were about staying. “Atta girl” He said, placing a kiss on your forehead. He started by lighting the candle. Once the wax began dripping down to the candle holder he lifted it off the ground and hovered it above your naked body. “You, LORD, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.” The psalm slipped past his lips as the hot wax hit your breasts. It felt incredible, especially as he held you flush against him. His right arm held you firm in place against him even as his hand, which held the vibrator, snaked closer and closer to your core. Finally you felt the cold silicone divot pressed firmly over your clit. You shuddered at the contact, already sensitive from his fingers and mouth. He hit the button on the side of the device and it whirred to life. Just as the vibration began he poured more wax down your torso. The stimulation was already mind numbing. He began whispering passages from revelation in your ear, the twisted words of angels unleashing chaos on mankind only sending me further into your hedonistic frenzy. The Catholic slut had been fully realized. The vibrator attacked your clit you felt yourself teetering just on the edge of release, somehow holding out simply to please him, to serve him.

Tears began rolling down your cheek, not from the pain of the hot wax, but from the pure ecstasy this man was inflicting upon you. There was nothing left in the world, just you and him. His soft cardigan against your skin, his wispy grey curls tickling your eyes as you hid your face in the crook of this neck, his gentle voice in your ear. Suddenly that voice switched from revelation back to a passage from a psalm: “Deep calls to deep at the noise of your waterfalls. All your waves and your billows have swept over me.” Your entire body erupted into white hot light, your climax racking through your very being. Mr. Reed set down the candle and turned off the vibrator and brought you even closer to him, bringing you fully into his lap with his arms around your waist. You sobbed into his neck, so overwhelmed and overstimulated by what you had just experienced. “Oh my beautiful girl you are more marvelous than I could’ve ever imagined.”

Once you had stopped crying and come down from your orgasm a little, he tapped your side and helped you stand up. He guided you out of his faux church and down the hall into what you assumed must be his bedroom. He laid you down on the bed and left for moment, not without kissing you first. While you waiting for him you took in your surroundings. The walls were covered in a deep red floral wallpaper. The bedding was soft, though a little worn. He had more religious artifacts adorning his walls and shelves. You even spied Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons amongst a stack of books. You would tease him for that later. He returned with a large glass of water and handed it to you. As you sipped the cool water he started undressing, stripping down to a white tshirt and plaid boxers. You set the glass down on his bedside table and held your arms out to him. He climbed in the bed next to you and began kissing you fervently. His hands explored your body and despite the previous orgasm you found yourself growing slick with want yet again.

Now that he was freed from his trousers you reached your hand down and stroked his length through his boxers. He let out a delicious moan in response, his cool demeanor fully melted away and replaced with need. As you kissed him through his moans and continued to palm at him you wondered how long it had been since he’d been this intimate with someone. That’s really what was happening here, this was far more than a one night stand. You wanted to make him feel good, to elicit an orgasm that brought him to tears just like he had done for you.

Breaking the kiss you slid your hand under his shirt and gently guided it over his head. Once you’d removed his shirt you kissed him deeply, leaving his lips and trailing kisses down his chest. When you reached just above his boxers you raised an eyebrow, surprised to see a happy trail leading to your main event. You kissed along the patch of hair and slowly slid his boxers down. His cock sprung forward and you couldn’t help but moan a little at the sight of him. He was a good 7inches and decently thick. Circumsized too, so god must be pleased.

You began stroking his bare length and he shuddered. Leaning forward, you took his entire length into your mouth in one quick motion and he yelled. As you went to work he gripped your hair holding you tight in place. “Oh my sweet girl my good girl you make me feel divine” he sputtered out between moans. You loved how vocal he was and you couldn’t wait to hear him when he was inside you.

Suddenly his grip on your scalp released and he pulled your head off of him. Fearing you’d done something wrong you looked up at him with big doe eyes, waiting for a response. He pulled you up so that you were straddling him and brought your head to rest against his. “And the two shall become one flesh.” He whispered before pulling you into a kiss you could only describe as romantic. Sure you were both naked and your wet cunt was planted firmly on his rock hard cock, but there was something innocent and pure about that kiss. He scooted up against the headboard and pulled you firmly onto his lap, your tits right at eye level. He lifted you onto him and you both groaned in ecstasy as he entered you. Unable to control yourself you began riding him, needing to feel him go deep inside you. The sounds coming from your soaking union were obscene, complimented by your once again pornographic high pitched squeals and his guttural moans. He held you flush against him, your breasts smothering his face. He nipped and sucked at your nipples again, feeling the rush of warm wet slick it caused. “Imagine what your old classmates would think of you now, piercing yourself on an old atheist’s cock.” The dirty talk was back and you knew his voice alone could guide you to a second climax. “If god was real then he designed you just for me, he made your sweet little cunt ripe for my taking. MY perfect little Catholic slut.” He growled out the word “my” emphasizing the feeling you already held near and dear to your heart, you were his. With those words ringing in your ear you came hard and fast around his cock and he followed shortly after. You could feel his warm seed filling you and mixing with your own cum, dripping out of your weeping hole.

You both just held each other, his cock softening inside you. He finally pulled out and the two of you hobbled to his bathroom. He guided you into the shower and you both just enjoyed each other’s silent company as you cleaned off the evidence of your lecherous evening. You stayed under the warm water awhile longer after he left, just soaking in the steam. When you climbed out and began drying yourself off he re-entered the bathroom holding a pair of plaid boxers and a faded old Radiohead t shirt. “I get to stay?” You asked grabbing the clothes from him and pulling him into a kiss. “Darling if I had it my way you’d never leave.” You pulled on his clothes and climbed into his bed with him, falling asleep in his arms as if it was the place you were destined to be.

***

Four months later when you crossed the stage to accept your doctoral diploma, you beamed with pride and relief that for the first time in your academic career they didn’t call out the last name that belonged to your family who had thrown you out so carelessly. No, they announced you as Dr. Reed.

After a whirlwind month of romance and hedonism, Mr. Reed had proposed to you. It was insane, your friends thought, marrying a man old enough to be your father that you’d just met, but when they saw the two of you together the couldn’t argue. It truly seemed that you were two halves of a whole.

You were hired by the university you’d graduated from as a theology professor and you and your husband lived a blissful life. You opened him up more and would bring your friends around for dinner parties and game nights. He would still linger at your side like a puppy dog even as he grew more comfortable around people. The house you shared was always ooh’d and ahh’d at by company. Occasionally you’d be asked “what’s behind those twin doors in the office?” and you’d smile and politely reply “oh it’s just old storage there, nothing fancy to show off. In fact it’s a mess, I’d be embarrassed for you to see!” and your husband would squeeze your arm and smile at you, proud that you’d converted to his one true religion.

[ldysmfrst]

Incomplete (4) - 8 Makes 1 Team, But 9 Make...

Paring: Ateez OT8 x Plus-sized FemReader

Status: Ongoing series

Chapter number: 3 of unknown

Word count for Chapter: 14,942

Word count for Story: 33,808

Genre: Idol Soulmate AU

Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! This story will contain a bit of angst, fluff, smut, f/m, m/m, and m/f/m. This chapter contains panic attacks, the death of a non-main character, y/n having lots of negative emotions towards self, Protective San, and Shielded Jongho.

Story Summary: Ateez are soulmates who earned their way to Fame once they found each other. What happens when a new pull comes during their Towards The Light World Tour? Does 8 really make 1?

INCOMPLETE MASTER LIST / LDYSMFRST MASTER LIST

With their attention entirely on the oldest of the three ladies in the room, silence looms. There was a slight tension because they were finally learning something about you besides your name.

Seonghwa could feel your unease and– guilt?

Cindy looked at each of the bonded soulmates before stopping at Seonghwa and said, “Y/n… Y/n’s soulmate was murdered on June 15, 2016– on her 18th birthday.”

Ateez stared at Cindy wide-eyed and dropped chins because that wasn’t possible. Denial ran through the bonded group like a tide wave from everyone but Jongho, who still had minor reservations. As far as everyone they saw, all the signs were there that this woman sitting next to their oldest bonded mate was indeed another link in the bond.

They were your soulmates, not this other person, right? 

“I know this may seem like a stupid question, but” Jongho breaks the silence, his mind diving back into the secure walls he always kept around his heart. Maybe his soulmates were wrong, and this is just another game. 

“No, no. Let’s start with a non-stupid question… what do you mean Y/n has a soulmate already?” asks Wooyoung.

Another silent conversation happens between the three ladies before the younger friend speaks. God, what San wouldn’t give to gain mind reading as an ability instead of pinning. He doesn’t have to have Seonghwa’s ability to see your emotions, which are not in a good place right now, and it cuts his soul not to know how or why. 

“Darren Donahue. Y/n and Darren were instant friends when she transferred to our school in the middle of 3rd grade. They were inseparable all through the rest of elementary school and into high school,” says Kat.

“After growing up with soulmates as parents,” Kat smiles gently at Cindy. “I had an innate understanding of how to spot soulbonds or possibilities. It was resoundingly clear that there was a potential bond between them. Darren was a year older than Y/n when he turned 18 and could finally connect with his soulmate if he had one… but he never even looked.”

“Darren had asked Y/n’s mom to take her out for her 18th birthday. By that time, he had told several of us that his heart knew she would be his,” added Cindy. “All of us were supportive because we all agreed. Sure, there was a chance that we were all wrong. Ever since… we kind have wished we were.”

The boys watched as you sunk more into yourself. Now more than ever, Seonghwa wants to stop the feeling of guilt coming off you in waves, but looking at Jongho’s stern face, he understands that, for some reason, his ability cannot get through to you.

“Y/n, how did you know that Darren was your soulmate? Did you bond?” questions Hongjoong, hoping to get a clearer picture of what has happened and, in turn, what is happening. 

Looking at the Captain, you nod and show them a deep, still pink, rough scar carved into your arm. “He was with me at midnight when I turned 18. I gained my soulmate ability to feel emotions right away, but I don’t know what he was because we never got to...” your voice cuts as Ateez watches the tears fall. 

Glancing over at Hongjoong with his firm jaw, Yeosang feels helpless. He can see that the other members are feeling similarly. San blinks his eyes rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. Wooyoung hasn’t looked up since you answered his question. Yunho and Mingi look like they want to go on a murder spree because none of them know what to do to help you. 

They are useless to what their ladymate has gone through, and they don’t know what the future will hold since… well, since, according to popular belief, you only have one complete soulmate bond within a lifetime. The scar on your arm must be where your soulmate's mark formed when the bond was completed. Why it is a scar now will have to be discussed later.

Seonghwa watches your face as it silently contorts through what he can only think are memories and silently cries with you. If you and he had the same ability you gained once you bonded with this Darren… then you survived more than anyone will truly understand.

Jongho moves to stand behind the soulmate he can help and brings Hwa out of his small spiral of guilt for you for living with what happened. No one should have something so precious ripped from their hearts after such a short time.

“Maybe we are second chances,” comments Yunho. “They are practically unheard of and even rarer to be at the numbers we are.”

“Yeah, sure, Yunho,” scoffs Jongho. “If we were second-chance soulmates, then why would she not respond to all of our abilities? Where is our soulmate mark?”

The men are at a loss, and from the contemplative looks on your friend’s face, they see that they aren’t the only ones. None of them are well educated in the realm of soulmates and soul bonding. They don’t have answers for anyone, which doesn’t settle well with Hongjoong, Seonghwa, San, and Mingi. Is there anyone who they could talk to?

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls everyone’s attention to their manager, which gains him some glaring from the demon line. “I hate to say this, but we need to leave for the BMO soon, Hongjoong-ssi,” he says nervously. 

San stands up quickly. “We can’t leave her right now. It won’t be suitable for any of us. Things are already strained as they are.”

“San-hyung, we don’t understand what is happening. It could be stress and timing that is causing all of this,” comments Jongho with an almost dismissive attitude.

“Excuse me?!!?” challenges San, squaring off towards the group's youngest member.

“Go,” you firmly say. “You need to be there for Atiny tonight just like you were there for us last night. I cannot be the reason for anything that affects the show or makes you all late. You did fine without me before. It’s not like I will be any help now.”

“Things have changed, Y/n. You made contact with San-ah and Seonghwa-hyung, meaning the soul-bonding has started with the two of them and yourself,” interjects Yeosang.

Ignoring Jongho’s not-so-silent scoffing, Hongjoong adds, “Once a soul-bonding starts in a group, it is fragile until the rest of the group bonds. It doesn’t finalize until everyone accepts it though.”

“You mean she has to follow you around now? Until everyone accepts her and vice versa?” asks Kat. “How will that work and not end up all over Dispatch or TMZ?”

“I can help with that, Miss Kat,” a young man says, stepping up from the corner dressed like he should be attending a kind of Paramore concert. “I am Mathew and I have been assigned to you three as a personal bodyguard for the remainder of your trip.”

“Excuse me?” questions Kat, their eyes looking the man up and down with confusion.

“I will explain later, Kat, before we leave the hotel,” intervenes Cindy. “How can you help?”

Mathew looks to Hongjoong and Seonghwa and then turns to their manager. “Tonight, I was supposed to have the night to watch the concert from the crowd. If we could get tickets for the three of them seated with me, we could attend the concert and reduce the distance between them all.”

“She would have to be closer than she was last night since the bonding has started,” adds Mingi. “Since we cannot have her on stage with us and hiding her backstage will pull the three of us in the wrong direction, she will have to be practically stage side like the photographers or VVIP.”

Nodding, Hwa speaks up, “Y/n, I know that this is probably more than you ever thought you have to deal with, but after tonight’s concert, we don’t have to be at the next stop until Thursday morning. We could sleep on it and talk in the morning?”

Seonghwa’s eyes are imploring and sweet in their gaze, while Jongho’s gaze is cold and calculating behind him. They watch your eyes bounce between them, your hesitation clear as day on your face. Ultimately, you look away from them, which deflates Hwa’s heart. 

“I'm sorry, but we really must leave,” their manager quietly says. “What do you ladies want to do?”

“We will go to the concert tonight,” decides Cindy. “I think it has been a lot and it has all happened a bit too fast.” 

Looking to Hongjoong, Cindy continues, “Let us talk to her, just us, and we will see you at the concert or afterward. If you could have someone show us our room for tonight we could talk about things till you want us to go to the concert?”

“Mathew-ssi, please?” orders Captain but nods to Cindy. He was right that their new soulmate isn’t hearing anything right now, but then again, who would? Especially not after everything the new soulmate has been through.

Ateez remains quiet as they watch Mathew and a few other guards escort you, Cindy, and Kat out of the conference room. 

“You have 10 minutes, then we have to leave,” says their manager before exiting to ensure everything is settled with the hotel.

Once the door is shut, all hell breaks loose among the members.

San is glaring and calling Jongho out for disregarding the new soulmate, to which Jongho defends that it doesn’t make sense, and Wooyoung is trying his best to keep them from actually getting into it.

Yunho tries to talk Mingi into staying in the room and not trying to start the bond before the concert, but Mingi swears it will help him concentrate better if he can connect through the bond with you.

Yeosang is watching everything fall apart at the seams as he holds on to each of his soulmate's mooring lines and your plaited silk line to ensure that none of them start to unravel. Tensions haven’t been this high for the eight-membered bond for a long time.

Hongjoong is lost in his own world, trying to figure out how this works. It’s clear to him that you are theirs. Your reactions to them in the parking garage were enough to dispel any thoughts of doubt from his mind. 

As Captain, he knows Jongho has dealt with lies and broken promises the most out of them all, so it is no surprise that their little bear has his paws out and is swinging. However, right now is not the right time for his insecurities to come out, but who can control what they feel when it comes to stuff like this? 

A broken hiccup is heard between all the voices, snapping everyone’s attention to Seonghwa, who has been sitting there motionless, staring at the door where you left. 

“Hwa-hyung,” calls Jongho with heaviness as he realizes their intense emotions overwhelm the eldest soulmate. He was too caught up in his argument with San to help keep everyone more level-headed because he doesn’t feel very level-headed right now, either.

“She felt it,” Seonghwa says, his voice wrought with pain and helplessness. His hands grasp the bottom of his shirt, wringing it tightly as he tries to sort everything running through his mind and heart.

Wooyoung kneels in front of Hwa, using his sleeve to dry the tears that have covered the elder's cheeks, “Felt what, hyung?”

“Y/n,” he starts before glancing at each of his soulmates. “She felt him die.”

Deafening silence encompasses the room, soulmates, and the remaining bodyguards taken back by this fact. Pulling Hwa’s hands from their current destruction of the shirt, Wooyoung holds them tight with comfort. “Hyung, what do you mean?”

“She said that her ability was the same as mine. She feels emotions, which means if this Darren guy was her bonded soulmate and he was murdered as Cindy said, then Y/n would have felt it,” Seonghwa almost whispers, his eyes searching his imagination, trying to fathom what that would feel like or do to a person.

The feeling of a soulmate bond breaking from being rejected or denied feels like a permanent emptiness, but a bond breaking because of a death is heard to be like your body being engulfed in fire. It is well known that soulmates tend to pass away together because the loss of one is too much for the other to handle without permanent crippling damage. 

The newer bonds are even more susceptible to extreme emotions. The mind and body must find a way to adjust to everything, and what is felt is already heightened, so distance between two bonding soulmates is not advised. But to have been granted the ability of your soulmate’s emotions, the immense or overwhelming feeling of the bond snapping into place, and then to feel the pain and life drain from that soulmate is beyond words. 

“Maybe that explains why her bond mark looks so ragged,” San wonders aloud. “I always thought they were supposed to be pretty.”

Standing slowly, Hongjoong says, “We don’t know what she felt or didn’t feel, and it will be up to Y/n to tell us more if she wants to. I don’t think this is a topic that we should push for details unless we have to.”

The rest of the boys nod in agreement, even Jognho, as he avoids the looks he is still getting from San. “Joong-hyung, how are we supposed to perform tonight?”

“I say we do just as Y/n asked. We need to be there for Atiny. We are Idols for a reason,” Hongjoong says, with no room for a counter.

“Can we wear the dark knight costumes for the opening act? And maybe the purple velvet too?” asks Yeosang. “I think with what we learned tonight the black would be appropriate and the purple might bring a smile to Y/n’s face.”

A soft smile forms on Hongjoong as he agrees, “That would be a nice gesture and besides we can’t wear the same thing as yesterday anyways.”

The ride to BMO was another Ateez-sardine-packed van. No one wanted to be left alone, but for San and Seonghwa, it was the only way to get them to leave the hotel. The ride was short and quiet. 

At arrival, the touring staff knew something was off with Ateez, but no one had the guts to ask what had happened in the last 24 hours. They had been around the group long enough to know they kept tight-lipped regarding internal issues. 

The wardrobe noonas were informed of the change requested for the costumes and quickly complied because the sad eyes and pouty faces of Yeosang and Seonghwa were not to be turned down. 

To say Ateez was distracted would also be an understatement. The make-up noonas or stagehands often had to call the members multiple times before they would snap out of their haze. The disconnect from how Ateez was before even caused some questions from the BMO event staff, but the touring team quickly found ways to reassure the BMO event staff that everything was fine, even if they didn’t know if it was true themselves. 

Once Hongjoong noticed his members' mental and emotional capacity for interaction was nonexistent, he tried to answer everything and guide the pre-show craziness away from his bonded soulmates. He knew there was a better time to unpack everything with each of them. There was only a short amount of time before Atiny was expecting them. It was his time to take his role as Captain seriously and stand strong for his soulmates, including you.

Seonghwa needed his makeup reapplied several times because he could not stop the tears from falling. The empathetic looks he got from the KQ team almost made it worse because they thought it was all for his grandfather when, in truth, it was for you.

Yunho felt a little lost in how to help. He agreed that you were a soulmate. He felt it in his bones that they were your second-chance soulmates. He also is abundantly aware of how much of a fairy-tale that sounds like, especially to Jongho. He also knows that he has heard of it happening, but he can’t remember who it happened with to save his life.

While Yeosang is typically the ‘baby girl’ and sunshine of Ateez, he also has the potential to be a member of the demon line, which is showing now. His face has taken on the resting bitch-face mode, not because he is mad at anyone but because he is concentrated on the soulmate lines. He is concerned about how his bonded soulmate's demeanor has changed and wants to know the moment you are nearby. He is unsettled because he can no longer feel the plaited silk line, and it is starting to feel like ants under his skin.

San is about to have his hyungs knock some sense into him because he acts more like a feral dog than a human at the moment. Out of all the bonded soulmates, San expresses emotions physically. It is one of the reasons why he took up working out and getting buff. He wanted to be able to protect his soulmates, but he also wanted to find ways to get out his aggression or libido without driving the loves of his life into the ground. Right now, he has decided to turn whatever he can find into a personal mini-gym in the guise of getting himself pumped up for a second night.

Unsurprisingly, the shorter of the two giants has secluded himself from everyone and everything. Mingi mentioned to his twin that he would be in the small room he found backstage to ‘settle himself,’ as he put it. In all actuality, Mingi was researching soulmate bonds, second-chance mates, bonding marks or scars, and one-sided soulmate bonds.

As an ESFJ, Wooyoung could see that his introverted Captain was stressing himself out, dealing with everything as if he was alone, and decided to help. Don’t get it wrong, Wooyoung was still processing everything but was good at multitasking. His ability to be social, talk someone’s ear off, and get things done while not breaking a sweat was something that most of the world found endearing. Right now, for him, it was emotionally draining when all he wanted to do was get San off the low-hanging rafter he was using like a pull-up bar and cuddle up until he could initiate the soul bonding with you.

Jongho focused on vocal warm-ups and paced anywhere that kept him away from San, Mingi, and, well, pretty much anyone else. He knew what he said in the conference room was wrong but didn’t want to get hurt again. Moreover, he doesn’t want his bonded soulmates to put too much into something that may end up causing damage in the long run. He is already beside himself because two of his hyungs have already started a soul bond with someone who hasn’t even once expressed that this is something that she wants. 

“Soundcheck is in 5, then BE:FIRST is up,” the leading stage manager shouts.

Looking at his soulmates, Hongjoong needs to figure something out to get them out of their funk.

“She is here!” Yeosang exclaims, springing up from his seat with the biggest smile. “She came. I think they are pulling up because it’s moving too fast for her to walk.”

Seonghwa and San close their eyes and lean into the bond they started with you, which pulses ever so faintly. Both members smile softly, and the tension within their bodies melts. The bond the two have with you is more solid than ever. You may not have verbally agreed or accepted their bond yet, but whatever your friends discussed with you has kept you from at least rejecting it. 

A few seconds later, Mingi swings open the door to his hiding room and jogs to the slowly forming group, “She is here and is in pain still. Are there seats with her ticket? Can she still see us if she sits?”

“Relax, Mingi-ah,” Seonghwa says, pulling the tall one into a hug. “I am sure Mathew-ssi and manager-nim have everything under control. We can look for her during soundcheck and if we see anything needs to be done, there is still time. Okay?”

Nodding, Mingi smiles at Yunho and glances at Jongho, noting that the youngest also has a half smile. Mingi’s heart squeezes slightly at the thought that Jongho is more on board with you being a soulmate than he is letting on. 

“Ateez, it’s time,” says their manager, walking up to the circle they have naturally formed. Holding a hand up, he smiles and quietly says, “She is in the VVIP Section downstage right along the start of bridge with her companions, Mathew, Ji-ho, and Ha-Joon. They should find their seats soon. Now, please, I know it won’t be easy, but show her that she isn’t going to hinder your career but that you know she is there.”

Catching his arm before he walks away, San asks, “Did she say something, manager-nim?”

Looking around at the staff milling around, the manager leans in, “Mathew sent me a text while they were in their hotel room, mentioning that it seems to be one of the more prominent points of conflict for Y/n. She almost didn’t come.”

“She almost didn’t come?” Hwa asks again to double-check that he heard correctly.

The manager nods with a frown, but the next second, he smiles brightly when a stagehand comes up to mumble something in his ear. “Thank you,” he says to the stagehand before looking back at the group. “She is seated. Be yourselves. It’s soundcheck time.”

As the manager walks off, the soulmates look at each other. Hoongjoong steps toward the center, “We can do this. We can perform for Atiny. We can perform for Y/n. She is with us. Eight make 1 team, but nine make a family, and I have no intention of allowing Y/n to worry that she is anything but a blessing to our bond. Who is with me?”

Going on stage, the boys greet the Atinys, who are able to get special tickets for the show. It took everything for them not to make a beeline for the section you were in. They had discussed it as they walked to the stage to keep the same placements as the night before. 

However, Seonghwa, San, and Mingi couldn’t help but look for you immediately. Their hearts beat fast as they searched the crowd of screaming fans, only to have it skip a beat or three when they finally found you. 

You had dolled up a bit by adding some light makeup, put your hair up in a half-up, half-down style, and were wearing their tour hoodie from their Break The Wall Tour last year.

Mingi ended up pointing and waving to you, and the Atiny around you got excited at the idols' attention to their section. They smiled when they saw you shy away from their attention as you looked around momentarily before joining in the smiles and waves.

Hongjoong pulls the members forward to greet Atiny with their step out, asks some basic questions to engage the fans, and then gets the soundcheck on the road. Since this is their second show, the sound check is just for Atiny, as nothing needs to be adjusted. They start by running through Dreamy Day and Work. The members aren’t doing the full-out choreography, but each member can’t seem to go through a whole song without dancing some part of it.

When it comes time for the last soundcheck song, Hongjoong has noticed that you know some of the moves to the songs but are doing them more or less to yourself because everyone else around you is focused on singing or recording them. Wanting to give you a chance to dance, Hongjoong pulls out his Captain’s card.

“Wow,” he exclaimed. One thing I have noticed is we have a lot of good singers out here, but do you all know how to dance?” The crowd went wild as usual. Glancing over at you, Hongjoong and Yeosang noticed you were screaming along with them.

“Let’s see… Seonghwa,” the captain pulls the eldest soulmate’s attention, “Do you think you can show a little move of the next song?”

Smiling, Hwa moves forward a bit, saying, “I think Atiny really loves this move.” Rolling his hips with an outward fist, he pulls off the most basic version of the driving dance from Say My Name, causing all of Atinies present to go even wilder. As he turns, moving back to his space, his eyes land on you and note that you are moving along with him, making him smile even more. 

Mingi, Yunho, and Wooyoung look slightly irritated at the Captain for asking Atiny to dance because they are concerned that if you knew the song's moves, you would aggravate your injured ankle. Yunho turns in time to catch you moving along with Seonghwa and shakes his head. 

San has decided that avoiding the side of the stage you are on is best and looks the other way. He tries to keep Atiny happy and clueless about their internal struggles as they fall into their Idol mindset. 

The rest of Ateez do their best to fill in the gaps, moving around the stage and ensuring that all of Atiny gets attention. Yeosang still finds time to sneak you a smile or a wink, while Jongho mostly sticks to the middle of the stage. His internal excuse is his need to focus on the notes when he is actually trying to control his fear of showing because he knows there will be so many uploads of this to YouTube before the show even starts.

Once the song starts, the bonded soulmates kick in gear and dance to it at about 50% energy because it is just a soundcheck. Mingi is the least active of all the members as he goes through the motions but doesn’t change his level or hit extensions for several reasons. He is still feeling your pain, and he is too busy watching you under his sunglasses to ensure you don’t overdo it. 

By the song's end, the eight members have pumped themselves up as much as possible for the show. Pulling some last-minute screams and cheers from the crowd, the boys do one more step up and head backstage to prepare for the opening song. 

Each member, even Jongho, finds you in the crowd before they leave the stage to let you know that they are aware you are here and satisfy their worries about you enjoying a second night at their show. 

When Seonghwa can peel his eyes off of your form in the multitude of Atiny, he jogs down the ramp and right to his makeup chair because he knows that he will be the quickest to fix since his skin is naturally smooth and doesn’t need much attention. His mind is right; he is focused on this performance being for you, showing you that he can simultaneously be an idol and your soulmate.

Mingi, however, was the first off-stage and immediately went to their manager. “Manager-nim?” he interrupts. “Can you send something to her and her friends for me?

The manager’s face has a sly smile as he teases, “Let me guess Mingi bias merch package.”

Grinning with the tips of his ears turning red, he says, “She has San stuff on her bag, and I don’t know what she might have gotten yesterday other than our tour sleeveless tank, but I noticed she wasn’t wearing our tour sweater.”

“Yeah, she was wearing one from last year,” Jongho comments. 

“So you do notice her!” Yeosang says, poking the youngest’s side, which earns him a glare before Jongho moves to the wardrobe area. Turning back to Mingi, Yeo asks, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I am asking manager-nim if he can send a merch package to Y/n,” answers the giant. 

“Mingi-ssi and Yeosang-ssi, the VIP sections already will be getting a clear drawstring bag, postcard set, portable charger with flashlight, fan, and deck of gold-embossed playing cards. What else would she need from you?” asks their manager.

“A newer sweater? She had on last year's tour sweater on. I hope she wasn’t at one of the shows last year,” answers Yeosang, causing the manager to look confused.

Tilting his head like the answer is clear as day, Yeosangs explains, “If she was at an earlier show and we didn’t feel her at that show…”

“Then it is going to be that much harder to convince her that she is really ours at this show,” says San, finishing Yeosang’s thoughts and seeing the understanding come to the manager. 

“That… she had to have gotten it from a store. There is no way we wouldn’t have felt her before now, especially Hyung,” Mingi says with deep determination. Turning back to the manager, he says, “Add a beanie and a sweater to the VIP bag, please?”

The manager nods, pulling out his phone to text the request to the merch handlers to bring over before he gets a tap on his shoulder. Looking back at Mingi with a questioning face, Mingi’s ears get redder as he leans closer to whisper his request, “umm… can you add my picket so she knows who it’s from?”

Shaking his head, the manager adds the Mingi picket to the request list and shows it to the blushing Ateez member before he sends it over. “Mingi-ssi, Mathew will let me know when she gets it. I will also make sure her two friends get the VIP bag so she doesn’t stand out too much.”

“Oh, smart thinking. Maybe send a beanie to them, too. It’s supposed to be a cold night, and those two are important to Y/n, which means they are important to us,” smiles Mingi. 

“Got it, now go! You have only five minutes before you have to be in position,” playfully scolds the manager. The sounds of BE:First, they finally reach Mingi’s ears, and off he goes to get ready to show the world that he is ready for everything the world has to throw at him—including you.

Making it through the concert's start was just like any other concert. Atiny was screaming, singing, dancing, and bringing enough energy to light up the whole city from BMO alone. Even the BBTRIPPIN members seemed extra sharp and high-voltage for tonight’s show.

Seonghwa and San could feel your bond thrum to the music as you got lost in being at the concert. After the first few songs, the two shared a look as they went backstage during a scene change.

“Do you feel that?” asked San.

Smiling, Seonghwa answered, “So it wasn’t just me. You can feel it when she changes with each song right?”

San nods while Seonghwa hops in place. “This means we can learn which songs she likes the most. This feeling was stronger during Say My Name and Work, right?”

“What was stronger?” asks Mingi with his hands on his hips, trying to figure out why they are so happy. 

“Y/n, with the bond, we can tell which songs she reacts to,” explains Hwa. “We felt it during the soundcheck and again with Guerrilla. I think it’s when she knows or likes the songs.”

Looking at San, Mingi asks, “You can feel it, too?”

“Yeah, but it isn’t enough to distract us or anything,” answers San. “I wonder which song will be her favorite?”

Hearing their cue with the pop-locking music for their traveling dance crew, the three find their positions for the next series of songs. Yeo, Woo, Captain, and Yunho are already waiting with the makeup noonas fussing over minor makeup corrections. San barely makes it in time for his solo dance entrance as the rest ready their capes. 

When it comes time for the opening-ments, they each greet Atiny like they did the night before, but when they mention the night before or being happy for a second night, the soulmates can’t help but look your way because, to them, you are the deciding factor of just how great this stop will be. The only downside is none of them can see you past the glaring lights shining on them. Seonghwa and San are the only ones who have any indication that you are enjoying the show.

The show goes smoothly without any hiccups. 

Mingi sees you waving his picket during his solo rap, letting him know his little care package was received. The smile on your face and the lack of pain he feels is the only evidence he has that you are in a good place right now. 

Yeosang feels an extra pull from you at the start of It’s You, which makes him almost break character and laugh. He is well aware of how much Atiny enjoys that song, and it certainly isn’t for the melody. The lyrics and how they can now relate to you make him want to laugh. At that point, he decides to sing this song for you, to you, and about you.

Yunho, Hongjoong, Wooyoung, and Jongho are doing their best to be present. Keep their minds from wandering about how you are doing, what you talked about with your friends, and what will happen tomorrow. 

It’s about halfway through the show when Jongho is singing his solo, and he somehow sees you in the crowd. Your eyes are drilling into him. Knowing that he can sing this song in his sleep, he closes his eyes and reaches out to you with his ability, testing the waters to see if he can feel anything from you. 

It’s like a water spout comes, throwing him into a whirlwind of emotions as his ability pulls them into himself. The ability to absorb is devouring the confusion, shame, anxiety, uncertainty, and heartache coming from you. Walking down the stairs at the end of his song, he can’t help but find you again as his heart flutters, and he can no longer fight against it– you are his ladymate.

Walking backstage, Jungho collapses into Seonghwa’s awaiting arms. The suddenness pulls them both to the ground, causing everyone but Wooyoung to run to their side. Kneeling around the youngest, they hear him mumbling something as he gasps deep, uneven breaths. 

“San, get his wardrobe change. Joong-ah and Mingi-ah get everyone not bonded away. Yun, he needs an anchor,” Seonghwa calls out directions. Looking directly at Wooyoung, Hwa nods slowly, saying, “He will be fine. Go out for your solo; we will be there on time.”

Leaning down into Jongho’s face, Hwa can see that he isn’t crying but is within himself. Passing him to Yunho, Hwa steps back, looks toward Hongjoong with a frown, and says, “I think he may have finally found his connection to her but it isn’t a happy one.”

A few more seconds pass as the soulmates watch their big bear bring their little bear back into the present. Jongho’s breathing stabilizes, and the mumbled words stop before he looks around and finds San. 

Standing up and rushing to the older soulmate, Jongho hugs him and says, “I am so sorry, Hyung. I wanted to keep us safe. I didn’t want to fight with you, but she was empty. It was like she was hollow, and now I know why. She has walls, so many walls.”

Hearing the music change, they all jump as the time between sets runs out, and Hongjoong steps forward, asking, “Are you okay with continuing?”

“Yeah,” answers the youngest soulmate. “I got this. If she can live with that for who knows how long, I can live with it for the rest of tonight. Yunnie-hyung’s anchor helped.”

The rest of the show becomes a blur, as always. Heightened emotions, the heartfelt ending-ments, and the encore all come too fast as the second night in LA comes to a close. However, the night isn’t over for Ateez as they still have to go through their send-off, head back to the hotel, and see where the night takes them.

Jongho is peering through the cracks that give him the slighted view of where you would have to pass to be seated for the send-off when the manager's voice comes from behind, “She won’t be there.”

Spinning around, Jongho exclaims, “What do you mean?! She left?!” Jongho’s voice carried enough to draw the attention of the others, who were now approaching the two with variations of concern.

“No, she didn’t leave. I can still feel her line, she has to be close,” answers Yeosang. “Where is she going though?”

“For her safety, she is going to one of the vans with her friends and their security team,” informs the manager.

Ease falls over the bonded soulmates, each loving you just a little more for your desire to be fair and considerate to others you don’t know. Hongjoong says, “Then let us not keep our Atiny waiting and get through the send-off like we always do. Once we are done, we will go back to the hotel. San, Seonghwa, and Jongho should ride with Y/n and her friends. The rest of us will go in the other van, and security can take their regular positions.”

Making their way through the send-off feels like the longest part of the night but is, in all truth, shorter than the soundcheck. Atiny are smiling, laughing, snapping pictures, and getting autographs from their bias. Unknown to them, their bias is only focused on the Atiny soulmate in the van at the end of the long line of endless people. 

Hongjoong, Mingi, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang enter the first van. Their energies are still bubbling with the adrenaline of another completed show. Are they exhausted? Yes, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t buzzing. 

“How do you think she liked the show tonight?” asked Mingi. “I know people follow us like roadies on tours, but she hadn’t planned on going to both shows.”

Running his hand along Mingi’s arm, Yunho teasingly says, “She was enjoying herself. I could see her waving your face around like she was trying to extinguish a fire.” A warm blush graces Mingi’s face.

“She did seem to enjoy her care package, Mingi,” adds Hongjoong. His mind is trying to find a way to see into the van behind them. He wants to know where you are at now. Have you started to accept them? All of them? 

Is that why Jongho was able to collect your emotions? Is that why Hwa and San were mumbling about your reactions to songs? Is that why you decided to come tonight?

Curling into his soulmate’s side, Wooyoung whispers into Yeosang’s ear, “Hyung, did you see her smile during your dance? She couldn’t take her eyes off you. She practically ignored me and San during ‘It's You’.” 

Woo knows how easily flustered Yeo can get despite his on-stage persona. However, all the bonded soulmates know how passionate he can get behind closed doors. Placing a soft kiss at the dip behind Yeosang’s ear, Wooyoung comments, “May be she would enjoy a private dance?”

Blushing and biting his bottom lip, Yeosang nods. The thought of you accepting them and allowing for moments like that spike his emotions. The plaited silk rope tugged his chest the more he thought about giving you that private dance. He is happy that you are not in the same van right now. He is known for his control, but at the same time, he knows that soulmates with fated birthing dates have a unique bond, and he cannot wait to explore where that leads the two of you. 

A soft growl is heard as Hongjoong’s eyes close with his deep breath. “Yeo, baby, your scent is warming. As much as we are all on an energy high, we can’t do that right now. We have more pressing matters.”

Jabbing Wooyoung in the ribs and muttering playful threats, Yeosang apologizes to his leader, “I am sorry, hyung. I will be good. I don’t want to mess any of this up.”

“Speaking of messing things up,” interrupts Yunho. “Do you think Jongho is okay now? Will the two of them be able to work things through now? He is on board now, right?”

“I hope so. It’s one of the reasons why I had him go in her van. It will give them time to talk or feel each other out,” explains Hongjoong. “I just hope it’s not too late.”

When they arrived, the hotel garage was practically empty; however, that was not the case, and they were now a skeleton crew of makeup, wardrobe, and sound team running around. While parking, Wooyoung received a text from San telling him to bring everyone to the ballroom.

Spotting San pacing near a side entry, Hongjoong all but stormed over to him, “What is going on?”

“She didn’t get to see her favorite song,” answered San, like that explained everything. 

Watching the controlled chaos around them, over half of Ateez was still lost. Soon, the door behind San opened, and Seonghwa and Jongho, dressed in purple costumes, and their manager came out. Confusion still graced Wooyoung and Mingi’s faces as the light of realization dawned on Hongjoong, Yunho, and Yeosang. 

“Are we changing in there? Where is she?” asked Yeosang, already moving into the small impromptu green room. 

“She is in her room. Her young friend Kat knows Korean, apparently, and helped us plan this. We don’t have much time,” answers Hwa, pushing the rest of his soulmates to get ready. “We have a show to perform.”

Letting out a laugh, Wooyoung rushes after Yeosang, yelling, “Hey, you might get to do that private dance afterall!”

“Is this a good idea?” asks Mingi. 

Pulling his gentle giant along, Hongjoong says, “We won’t know until the end. Until then, she should see that being our soulmate means that while we are Idols who perform for the world to see, our eyes are only on her.”

“Gag. That was gag-worthy, and we still need to sing, hyung,” Jongho says, rolling his eyes at the producer. “Now, please, go get ready.”

Getting ready, the tour team kept their lips sealed and didn’t outwardly ask why they were doing this sudden mini-show, but then again, their contracts have a very detailed NDA that came with a hefty bonus when something soulmate-related happened. 

Seonghwa, San, and Jongho explained that they found out you had missed seeing them perform one of your favorite songs both nights in a row, and you were sad that there was a song they didn’t perform. It was Jongho’s idea to do the mini-show for you so that you would be content and happy when you went to sleep. 

They had a set list ready and would sing to their instrumental or acapella. The boys are ready and waiting in the darkened ballroom with nerves stronger than anything they have felt in a long time. It’s a good thing; they have all agreed because they want you to be theirs more than anything else. 

“Ready on stage,” whisper, shouts their temporary stage manager.

It’s maybe ten seconds later that the ballroom door opens, and the sound of your laughter spills in as you walk in, looking behind you, saying, “You would have thought Yunho was doing more than dancing on the stage with how loudly she was losing her shit over him standing there.”

When you face the front, you freeze at seeing the single chair in the ballroom lit by a spotlight. The bonded soulmates can see you try to squint to see in the darkness before you turn back to see your two friends and their manager standing just inside the door. 

“Remember everything we talk about in the hotel room,” smiles Cindy. “Dave completes me. You deserve to be complete, too.”

Your friend Kat walks forward, taking you by the hand, and they guide you to the chair. “Eight of them can be overwhelming, but I believe each holds a piece of your soul that you lost when it shattered.”

“I have known these boys for more than anyone else, and I have never seen a more dedicated soulmate group in my life, Miss Y/n,” their manager adds. “Listen with your heart to what they have planned.”

With that, the three left the ballroom. The lights went out, and it was time for the boys to convey their longing for you to accept their bond and give them a chance. 

Stepping to his microphone stand, Mingi starts singing an acapella version of Star 1117 as the floor lights come up. He focuses his eyes on you as he pours his soul into his words. Hongjoong and he know they wrote the song for Atiny. The title lends to the day the name Atiny was picked out and focuses on looking to the stars for love. It’s Ateez’s wish that they can look to you as their star in love and you can trust them to protect you forever as their star.

The next song starts sounding through the ballroom speakers as the members pull their microphones off and gather closer to you. Seonghwa takes the middle with Jongho as they serenade you with Light. Jongho, who wasn’t on board in the first place, uses this song to express he finally has realized that the nine of you are meant to be one.

By this time, the boys can see you are fighting back tears. Seonghwa and San feel the energy flowing through your partial bond with them, making it harder for them to finish the song without crying. Yeosang can feel your plaited silk rope pull and release as you sway to the song. He has felt it before, but now it’s almost as if he can see it linking the two of you. 

Quick steps are made as the eight Idols find their place before an upbeat synthesizer starts. Yunho starts the song with a smile when he sees your eyes light up. They haven’t performed this song in a while, but the bonded soulmates wanted to perform their song Promise because it is their promise never to leave you alone. It made their hearts light when they would notice you mouthing along with the words, doing the hand choreography, or wiping a straying teardrop from your cheek.

It was time for the final song, and the squeal you let out once they got into their starting positions made Wooyoung and Hongjoong chuckle. It was a song that Atiny took many different ways, but for the situation between the nine of you, it was about having you get out of the cold and darkness of being alone in the world and allowing Ateez to become your warmth and light.

The moment your friend announced the day your life came to a screeching halt was the first time since they found you in the garage that you finally had no eyes on you. While it gave you a chance to breathe, it also felt odd. 

Taking the chance to look around, you notice the shock on their faces as they stare at Cindy like she has grown another head. Clearly, the news of your past was not what they expected to hear. It’s rare to hear of someone having a dead soulmate and living to tell the tale. 

“I know this may seem like a stupid question, but” Jongho starts to speak before he is interrupted by Wooyoung.

“No, no. Let’s start with a non-stupid question… what do you mean Y/n has a soulmate already?” asks the worldwide playboy. 

Looking at Cindy and Kat, you beg them with your eyes not to be the one to explain what happened. A wave of guilt, heartache, and failure is starting to crush your chest. It had been a while since you had thought about the events of that day. 

It’s Kat who finally starts telling the beginning of your devastating story. You resign to an understanding that the eight men around you will change their thoughts of being your soulmates if they know all the details. 

“Darren Donahue. Y/n and Darren were instant friends when she transferred to our school in the middle of 3rd grade. They were inseparable all through the rest of elementary school and into high school,” says Kat.

Your mind supplements Kat’s regaling with images of Darren with his natural blonde hair in a cut like Jonathan Taylor Thomas from Home Improvement. His almond-shaped crystal-blue eyes always held his emotions clearer than the night sky. He was always shorter than you, but that was his appeal to you. He was pocket-sized, and although short, he held a strength that could rival anyone, especially if you were in danger. Unfortunately, that determination was his ultimate weakness. 

“After growing up with soulmates as parents,” Kat continues. “I had an innate understanding of how to spot soulbonds or possibilities. It was resoundingly clear that there was a potential bond between them. Darren was a year older than Y/n when he turned 18 and could finally connect with his soulmate if he had one… but he never even looked.”

“Darren had asked Y/n’s mom to take her out for her 18th birthday. By that time, he had told several of us that his heart knew she would be his,” said Cindy as she squeezed your thigh. “All of us were supportive because we all agreed. Sure, there was a chance that we were all wrong. Ever since… we kind have wished we were.”

All you could do was shrink under the weight of the words Cindy left unsaid. You can remember happily agreeing to dinner at Caza De Pizza and catching ‘Now You See Me 2’ afterward. The movie was set to be over right around midnight. You were so excited to see if you and your family were correct in thinking that Darren was your soulmate. Now you wish you had waited to find out at school on Wednesday morning. 

Your dark thoughts are interrupted when Hongjoong calls your name, asking, “Y/n, how did you know that Darren was your soulmate? Did you bond?” 

Nodding, you put up your arm and rest it on the table to show a long, lightening-like, ragged scar running along your inner elbow from the middle of your forearm to just above your elbow. “He was with me at midnight when I turned 18. I gained my soulmate ability to feel emotions right away, but I don’t know what he was because we never got to...” your voice cuts out as the ghost of his death engulfs your body.

It wasn’t just the pain of his death that haunted you but the joy of seeing your soulmate mark form on your arm as proof that you were his. The avalanche of love, devotion, passion, and pride came with it, and you quickly realized it wasn’t just your emotions but also Darren’s. 

However, those happy feelings lasted for about five seconds before you were shoved to the side, and a piercing pain tore through your chest that caused you to look up from the mark to watch as blood pooled from his chest. Your memories of that night are always silent, never hearing the gunfire, the screams of you and the witnesses, and the lost words mumbling from Darren’s lips as the burn of a soulmate dying floods your system at his last breath.

San's rapid movement brings you back to the present as he practically growls at his manager, “We can’t leave her right now. It won’t be suitable for any of us. Things are already strained as they are.”

With an epic side eye given to you from Jongho, he says, “San-hyung, we don’t understand what is happening. It could be stress and timing that is causing all of this.” 

It didn’t surprise you that one of them was already against you, adding to their well-rounded soulmate bond after it had been formed for years. What shocks you is that San looks like he is about to start a round of fisticuffs with his already-bonded soulmate.

“Excuse me?!!?” demands San, turning his attention to Jongho. 

This isn’t good. Fighting isn’t good for bonds, much less for a world-famous K-pop band that must leave to perform for thousands of fans like they did last night. “Go,” you say with as much strength as you can.

Looking briefly at San as he stares down the youngest member, you try to explain, “You need to be there for Atiny tonight just like you were there for us last night. I cannot be the reason for anything that affects the show or makes you all late. You did fine without me before. It’s not like I will be any help now.”

A slight tug on your chest comes before Yeosang says, “Things have changed, Y/n. You made contact with San-ah and Seonghwa-hyung, meaning the soul-bonding has started with the two of them and yourself.”

Jongho scoffs at Yeosang’s explanation of how the bond is forming. Hongjoong adds, “Once a soul-bonding starts in a group, it is fragile until the rest of the group bonds. It doesn’t finalize until everyone accepts it, though.”

“You mean she has to follow you around now? Until everyone accepts her and vice versa?” asks Kat. “How will that work and not end up all over Dispatch or TMZ?”

“I can help with that, Miss Kat,” a young man says, stepping up from the corner dressed like he got caught up in the group and doesn’t belong in this meeting. “I am Mathew and I have been assigned to you three as a personal bodyguard for the remainder of your trip.”

“Excuse me?” exclaims Kat. This new guy has already made the mistake of calling Kat a miss, but the question is, why would we need security?

“I will explain later, Kat, before we leave the hotel,” intervenes Cindy, always the mediator. “How can you help?”

Watching the young man as he thinks, you can’t help but notice how much presence he does have. His clothes may make him look like the Emo Guy USA 2024 winner, but you think it is a perfect disguise for someone to be undercover at a concert. 

“Tonight, I was supposed to have the night to watch the concert from the crowd,” the non-security-security guy starts. “If we could get tickets for the three of them seated with me, we could attend the concert and reduce the distance between them all.”

“She would have to be closer than she was last night since the bonding has started,” Mingi says. “Since we cannot have her on stage with us and hiding her backstage will pull the three of us in the wrong direction, she will have to be practically stage side like the photographers or VVIP.”

This is going to be too much. You can’t suddenly have VVIP tickets. Those are limited to the number of seats available. You are about to say something when Seonghwa says, “Y/n, I know that this is probably more than you ever thought you have to deal with, but after tonight’s concert, we don’t have to be at the next stop until Thursday morning. We could sleep on it and talk in the morning?”

Seonghwa’s boba eyes look hopeful and endearing as he waits for your answer, but the ice shooting from Jongho's death stare behind him keeps any words from making it past your throat. Understanding the need to answer your elders, you want to answer. However, the desire to not cause more conflict between the bonded soulmates causes you to turn away from the two.

“I'm sorry, but we really must leave,” their manager quietly says. “What do you ladies want to do?”

“We will go to the concert tonight. I think it has been a lot, and it has all happened a bit too fast,” Cindy answers for the three of you. “Let us talk to her, just us, and we will see you at the concert or afterward. If you could have someone show us our room for tonight, we could talk about things until you want us to go to the concert.”

“Mathew-ssi, please?” orders Hongjoong. 

As Ateez remains quiet and in the room, Mathew, plus a few other guards, escort you, Cindy, and Kat out of the conference room. A few moments later, their manager joins the small gathered group. 

“If you would follow me,” he asks, guiding you to the lobby. “The boys are all on the same floor, the tour entourage is on the floor below, and the security detail is roomed throughout both floors. The floor the boys are on is completely bought out so we will get you keys to one of those rooms.”

Tugging on Cindy’s sleeve, you shake your head to get her to stop this nonsense. She, however, smiles and turns to the manager. “That would be great! I think we can make do with one room as long as there are two beds.”

“Cindy!” you hiss. Kat takes your arm and pulls you along to the elevator, humming some song with a look of contentment. 

How can Kat look like that when you are going through this!? Why is Cindy letting this go on?! The three of you know this will end badly. They will learn you are damaged goods and realize you are too much to deal with.

“We will wait for you outside,” says the emo boy as he shuts a door. 

Looking around, you noticed you had lost track of time and movement again. You were inside a huge room. It had two queen-sized beds on one side, a walk-in closet, a kitchenette, and a door that you could only assume led to a bathroom that would put yours to shame. 

“Earth to Y/n,” Cindy calls as she sits on one of the couches off to the side with a large TV screen. “What’s going on with that head of yours?”

Making your way to the other couch, you take a moment because where were you? You wanted to run away in the garage but ended up in the conference room. You got lost in what happened all those years ago, and now you were supposed to see night two at BMO stadium with eight Korean Idols claiming to be your soulmate… well, seven.

“I… I don’t know,” you finally answer.

Kat sits beside Cindy before saying, “This isn’t going to be easy, Y/n. Having second-chance soulmates is nearly impossible, but this is a chance for you to be happy again. It’s been eight years since it happened.”

“Yeah, eight years since someone murdered my soulmate instead of me,” you cut in. “Eight years since Darren got shot because they thought it would be a good idea for an initiation. It… it..”

“It also has been eight years since you survived, Y/n,” adds Cindy. “You had the bond, mark, and death of your soulmate happen in less than a minute. It takes a strong person to live through that. It is also a strong person that would be able to handle a bond with eight other people, especially as their focus.”

The thought of being the focus of a bonded soulmate group didn’t even cross your mind. Being a focus was more than just being another soulmate in a bond. The point of a focus was to keep the bond together. If something happened to a group bond’s focus, then…

“Don’t go to the bad things first, Y/n,” Cindy interrupts your spiraling thoughts. “Being a focus isn’t a bad thing. In a typical bond, like Dave and I, we complete each other. What Ateez has is like a ship without a sail; they have all the parts to float and keep their heads above the water, but they need their focus soulmate, you, to set sail and discover what the world has waiting for them.”

“But I am a tattered sail,” you mumble. “I would only flap in the wind like a flag instead of giving them strength to ride the waves. Like, going to the concert tonight… why are we going? If this whole thing is true won’t they be too distracted by the pull to perform right?”

A knock on the wall brings your attention to the personal security guard emo guy. “We have secured your tickets. We will enter with the soundcheck VVIPs for security purposes but leave before the send-off. I took the liberty of obtaining some basic cosmetics and other toiletries if you wanted to be more concert-like. My sister always says concert wear and day wear are two different animals.”

Kat stands up and retrieves the bag from the guy, saying, “Thank you, Mathew. How much time do we have before we have to leave?” 

“About an hour,” he responds before nodding and leaving.

Pawing through the bag, Kat hums in approval. “Well, I think you have men ready to accept fate with arms wide open. This is a chance for you to live how you were supposed to live all those years ago. Besides,” Kat pulls out a pallet of eyeshadows, “if getting Cle de Peau Beaute is considered basic makeup then sign me up in your place. PLLLEEEAAASSSEEE”

You laugh at Kat’s love for expensive things, but it does catch your attention. You may only sometimes be on point with knowing most couture designers, but you were the go-to among your friends and coworkers when it came to makeup, and Cle de Peau Beaute lipstick alone can run over $100. 

The following 45 minutes are spent looking up the prices of what was in the bag, trying not to gag at the $270 1 oz foundation that matched your skin tone, and accepting that you would be treated like something precious.

When the three of you were in yet another van, you didn’t look like you were crying just a few hours ago, and you felt like someone who could afford the VVIP tickets you were being gifted. Mathew, the emo guy, went over some safety things– like he was a friend of Kat’s, but Ji-ho and Ha-Joon were friends of Mathew’s, and no one was supposed to leave the group alone. 

Arriving at BMO was strange because you were brought in what you learned was the artist entry and taken to your seats just as the other VVIPs were being let in for the soundcheck. To the surprise of the three of you, you had excellent front-row seats at the bridge area off the other side of where you were last night. This meant you wouldn’t have to deal with people blocking your view but also that you didn’t have anyone to hide behind.  

“Stop your thinking and enjoy,” scolds Cindy. “They are big boys. They know the difference between work and play. Right now, it’s time for them to work. You’ll see.”

The next moment, you become deaf as the girl behind you cuts loose a scream like she was getting eaten by a shark. Following her line of sight, the boys take the stage, and the world around you narrows to just them. 

First out is the flirt master Wooyoung, in black jeans and a black tank top. San looks like a professor with his dress pants and white button-up. Yeosang follows with blue jeans and a tucked-in tour sleeveless shirt to show off his tiny waist and muscular physique without trying too hard. Jongho looks like he is going to the mall with his dark pants and jean oversized shirt with straps hanging everywhere. Hongjoong is the epitome of the Beverly Hills dad in the world with his cuffed jeans and black and white Art Deco flowered shirt. Yunho went boyfriend-coded with what looks like a Michigan State jacket and baggy pants. Mingi makes your jaw drop in his black-on-black with silver jewelry and looks like the complete fuck boi. Last comes Seonghwa, with his effortless black tee shirt and sand-washed jeans and his hair in a pony, as if he didn’t spend 30 minutes with someone making sure each hair was in the right place. 

The boys go to the bridge and greet the Atinys for the soundcheck. You noticed that Seonghwa, San, and Mingi found you as they went to their places. Only Mingi waved, and the Atiny around you got excited like he just threw money at them. You couldn’t help but blush at his attention because outside of you, Cindy, Kat, Mathew, Ha-Joon, and Ji-ho, no one else knew it was meant for you.   

The soundcheck ended up different from what you expected. They wandered almost aimlessly around, singing songs and waving to the crowd. The choreography wasn’t consistently done. None of the men on the stage could help but move out of muscle memory or get the crowd riled up occasionally. You couldn’t help but sing along to the parts you knew and dance with Kat, your resident K-pop Dance challenge master. 

When the eight gathered again, you figured it was over, and it was time to take your seat. However, Hongjoong seems to have other ideas. “Wow,” he exclaimed. “One thing I have noticed is we have a lot of good singers out here, but do you all know how to dance?” 

The crowd went wild as usual, including you and Kat. You were hoping the next song was one you could dance to without looking like a newborn deer or a lost child. 

“Let’s see… Seonghwa,” the captain calls the eldest soulmate out of the lineup, “Do you think you can show a little move of the next song?”

The other six members' reactions confuse you because they all look like this wasn’t part of the original plan. The stage crew is talking rapidly into walkie-talkies, as Hwa says, “I think Atiny really loves this move.” 

The moment Seonghwa pulls the most stilted version of the driving dance, all of Atiny's present goes even wilder, and the crew starts running around like chickens with no heads. You and Kat move along with him as you try to remember the song's name to which it goes. 

Over the screams, Kat leans into and says, “It’s from Say My Name. Mathew says Captain is going off script by adding this song, which isn’t unusual.” You nod to let Kat know you hear them, and the two of you dance to the song as much as you can since it is one of your favorites. 

When it comes to an end, it is a simple see you later from the boys as they go backstage to get ready for the night. Taking your seat, you look around at how some other Atiny have dressed this time. You are happy that you are at least wearing a tour sweater and got a chance to spruce yourself up. Part of you wished that the boy could have seen you in your pirate-themed outfit from yesterday, but at the same time, you were glad they didn’t.

“Excuse me, are you Miss Y/n?” A man approaches you and is abruptly cut off by Ha-Joon.  Stepping back, the man looks at you and Ha-Joon before continuing, “I was informed that some of our VVIPs didn’t get their exclusive merch bags. Two regular and one special.”

Taking the bags, Ha-Joon has a smirk on his face when he turns around. He hands the two clear bags that match the rest of the VIPs around you to Cindy and Kat, then hands you another that doesn’t match. Kat and Cindy start pulling out tiny things from their bags. The first thing you must pull out of the bag is a new tour hoodie, followed by a matching beanie. Dropping the bag on your seat, you immediately pull off the hoodie you got from Facebook Marketplace and put on the new one.

“Hey, ours didn’t come with those,” teases Kat, pointing at the sweater before she reaches into the bag and pulls out a Mingi picket. “Huh, Seonghwa had better watch his place as your bias because Mr. Song here seems to be starting with the spoiling part.”

You blush at the thought. Sitting down, you take the picket and look at the image of Mingi, remembering his determination during the meeting to keep you close to the eight of them. He hasn’t even touched you to initiate the soulmate bond, but he looks and reacts as if the bond is already complete. Is this what it means to have a soulmate and to be their focus?

You were happy that Be:First opened for Ateez again so you could see them this time. You loved their collaboration. It was a unique way of blending the two groups while keeping them as their own. You didn’t know any of their other songs, so you sat through their set and enjoyed the ebb and flow.

BBTRIPPIN came out and started the show. Because BMO screwed up, you had missed seeing their dance sequence, but it was not surprising how good they were. What surprised you was the Dark Knight costumes the boys wore as they entered the stage. You couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter at how the color accented their skin tone and made them look like a force to be reckoned with. 

When Crazy Form kicked off, the three of you were on your feet, moving, grooving, and badly singing in Korean. The thoughts of these eight men began to fade into the background. Having the other Atiny with you and seeing how engrossed the bonded group was with their performances, opening-ments, and each other let you remain a fan in the crowd. 

You missed the lingering glances, the minor angle changes, and the special words the boys had meant for you and you alone. You focused more on enjoying the complementary waters and snacks in the bottom of your bags. Luckily, Mathew had also thought ahead and brought you some pain medications. 

What you didn’t miss was the look from the Atiny who saw the extra things in your bag, the teasing smirks from your friends, or the great view of Ateez’s asses during Halazia. While the view was ass-tronomical, you were happiest seeing the musicality flow through their being. 

It’s about halfway through the show when Jongho is singing his solo. You knew his voice was beautiful and underrated by so many before Hongjoong stole him away. Listening to the youngest member of the bonded soulmates' serenade made you think about how hard you cried when you looked up the English translation. You ended up playing it on a loop for days, thinking of how Darren was supposed to be your everything and what you wouldn’t give to see him just once more. 

You couldn't look away as Jongho sang the song from the top of the staircase, expecting the tears to fall again and the darkness to take over. As you watched him, it felt like every negative feeling was being taken away. The turbulence and apprehension from today, the internal ridicule, agony, and disgrace of your past, were just gone.

Watching Jongho walk down the stairs at the end of his song, you know he can see you in the crowd. The look in his eyes isn’t one you have seen from him before. Only Seonghwa, San, and Mingi have looked at you like this, and it makes you want to follow him backstage to learn what it means. Your heart skips a beat as he holds your gaze just a second longer before he turns away. 

The stage lights change and the music starts for Wooyoung’s piece, drawing everyone's attention to the island at the end of the bridge. You, however, are left with a calm sense of emptiness as you watch the stage door. The sounds of the concert are gone, and all that is left is the sound of your heartbeat. It’s the first time that you start to believe that maybe, just maybe– they were right. 

You attempt to enjoy the rest of the show, but you can’t help but study the eight men on the stage. How well they complement each other shows that they must have polarizing abilities. The light in their eyes allows anyone, Atiny or not, to know they are living their dream and not being forced on stage. 

So, where would you fit in as the odd woman out?

“Excuse me, Miss? We have to go to the van now,” Ji-Ho instructs as Atiny starts to make their way out of the stadium. You nod and follow. Kat and Cindy have already figured something must have happened as they can see the wheels turning in your head. 

Mathew comes up to the front with you and explains that for safety reasons, the three of you will not be at the send-off, but due to the strain of having you separate from the already bonding soulmates, you will be traveling together. He leads you through what feels like a maze of metal under the stage and behind some fake walls before coming out a side door and to the vans. You can tell you are close to the send-off because of the deafening screams, and the pull on your chest seems lighter. 

Inside the van, you notice two rows of bench seats, one slightly shorter than the other,  and two captain’s chairs in the back, causing you to pause. “Umm, where should we sit?” you ask. 

“I didn’t know you could get vans with… seven seats in the back,” comments Kat before she jumps in and heads to the far back bench. 

You go to follow, only to have Cindy push your butt onto the short bench. “Nope,” she says, wagging her finger when you scowl at her. “You have at least two joining us, and you need to sit with them.”

You are about to reply when a single scream of “MINGI MARRY ME” hits a new level you never thought possible. The three of you burst out laughing as you watched the newly propositioned Idol run out of the stadium and into the first van, followed by Hongjoong, Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang.

Mathew silently laughs as he sits with Cindy and Kat in the back row, leaving the bench seat with you and the two captain chairs for San, Seonghwa, and Jongho. The three of them walk to the van, to you, at a more measured pace, and they pin you in your seat with their eyes. 

You scoot to the far side of the bench seat, making room for San to take the seat next to you as he was the one who reached the door first, but to your surprise, he sat in the captain’s chair in front of you. Seonghwa took the other captain’s chair. Leaving Jongho to sit next to you, his eyes never leaving yours as you looked at the two bonding soulmates. 

You can hear a ‘hmph’ from behind you and know you weren’t the only one taken back by the seating choice. However, that is the only sound made as the door shuts and the van returns to the hotel. You can feel that someone is looking at you, but you can feel the tension more than ever.

“Miss Y/n, did you enjoy the show?” asks Jongho, breaking the silence. 

Looking at him, you suck in a breath, thinking of an answer. His eyes search yours as if he is asking about something more than the show. “Mr. Choi,” you start, then blanch, looking at San, who is also a Mr. Choi.  “Ahh.. Younger Mr. Choi..”

“Jongho, please. Jongho is fine, please,” the younger man says with a smile. Nodding, you glance at Seonghwa to see him smiling softly as well. 

“Jongho-ssi, I enjoyed the show, it was different and I never thought I would ever see a concert that close in my life,” you admit. 

“Different, how?” prods San. “We did the same songs.”

“That’s true, but you wore different clothes.” You can’t help but glance at Seonghwa again with a blush as you remember his leather strap shirt and purple velvet outfit. 

Smirking, Hwa leaned forward, pointed at your clear purse bag, and said, “We agreed to wear the purple because you seem to like that color. Yeosang thought the Dark Knight costumes to open would be appropriate as well.”

Giggling can be heard from the backseat before Kat says, “Oh, that was a great decision. You should reward him for that. Y/n’s favorite color is purple and black, not to mention she has a thing for leather.”

Turning around, you swat at your friend and say through gritted teeth, “Shut! Up!” However, it has the opposite effect, and the two start laughing so much that the rest of the van joins in as you feel your face heat up. 

“I see how it is,” you glare, turning back to Seonghwa. “Mr. Park,” you grin. “If Hongjoong or Yeosang ever need fancams from this weekend, they can reach out to Kat and Cindy respectively.”

“Hey! Why am I getting dragged into this?” exclaims Cindy, which brings in even more laughter and breaks all the tension. 

“To be honest, I want to say thank you for letting us attend again and not shove us in a green room somewhere,” you say after catching your breath. “I was.. I was excited that I could see you all even once.”

“We are glad you could see us too,” adds San. “But why do I feel like there is something else?”

Your eyes widen slightly at the fact he could tell. Looking between the three of them, you finally say, “I wanted to see you sing Star 1117. Well that and I missed seeing you guys dance Halazia last night and then tonight you guys were facing away when you danced it so…yeah..”

The bonded mates look at each other and start muttering in Korean, leaving you out of the loop. They don’t seem particularly upset by their expressions, but they aren’t happy either. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything; keep your mouth shut and not complain. They have been doing this for years, and it isn’t your place to say anything anyway. 

It isn’t until Mathew and Kat jump in that you feel really lost. Glancing back at Cindy, she shrugs at you before leaning forward, “Maybe you should sign up for lessons.”

“Lessons?” Jongho asks, catching what Cindy said. 

Your eyes widen as Cindy says, “If she is going to be your focus, then she needs to learn to communicate with you all.” That catches Seonghwa and San’s attention as the van goes silent.

“You don’t know Korean?” inquires San.

Shaking your head, you answer, “Nope. I only know the typical K-drama watcher quotes. I… ahh, I am new to Korean stuff in general. These two dragged me into K-pop after they realized how bad things got after…”

“So, you are a baby Atiny? That’s awesome! We can teach you so much,” San says with a smile. “Most of us know enough English to get by, but don’t worry, we are all taking lessons, and either we can get you into lessons or teach you ourselves.”

“Hongjoong and San are the best at English,” adds Seonghwa. “If you need help you can always talk to one of them.”

You simply nod. The implications of them already planning a future with you are causing conflict for you. Their explicit acceptance of having another soulmate is a blessing, but accepting that acceptance when you had given up on ever being whole again is hard. 

The rest of the car ride is filled with small conversations, half in English and half in Korean. You tried to participate but just left it to everyone else. Once back at the hotel, you excused yourself quickly to your room with some flimsy excuse of needing the bathroom before the bonded soulmates could get out of the van. 

Cindy and Kat caught up with you in the lobby and picked up their manager along the way. The manager was talking with Cindy about logistics for tomorrow and getting them to their flight, so his presence didn’t bother you. The four of you went to the room you got ready in.

You did find yourself in the bathroom splashing your face with water. The day's weight was on your shoulders, but since Jongho’s song, it hasn’t crushed you like it was in the conference room. Sitting on the toilet, you pull out your phone and look up group soul bonds. 

+ Group soul bonds are believed to be formed because one or more of the soulmates within the group have experienced a trauma or injury to their soul, which causes fractures. The science behind this splintering of the soul is still being researched. + Group soul bonds are bonds between multiple soulmates. It is believed that a group bond can consist of  3 to 25 soulmates. Groups over nine tend to have a looping soul connecting one bonded group to another.  + Group soul bonds consisting of more than four soulmates must have a focus for the group to be considered complete; without the focus, a soulmate group will face mental and emotional damage over time. It is typically the passive ability-enabled soulmates that will fall to these damages sooner rather than later.  + Group soul bond’s focus is considered a central point for bonded soulmates. The name focus is used synonymously with core and heart. The other bonded soulmates must pay close attention to the soulmate who becomes the focus and maintain a consistent or relative closeness. Disconnections or distance from the focus over time will become more tolerable, but it is not recommended to maintain them for extended periods.   

Knock knock knock

“Yo! I am hungry. Get out here and come with us to raid the hotel convenience store,” yelled Kat. 

Closing your phone and tucking it away, you open the door, “You always are hungry. You literally ate like half the snacks from my bag. How can you eat more?” you tease them.

Grabbing your hand, Kat whines, “That was all like sugar stuff that has burnt off by now. You know I can’t sleep well with an empty stomach. Come on, I am sure they will have some kind of protein bar or fruit.”

Rolling your eyes, you take your hand back and start heading to the door. “Fine, but I am not paying, and you owe me coffee in the morning!” you call back, not waiting for anyone to follow you. You don’t see the sneaky smiles on Cindy, Kat, and Ateez’s manager’s face as they quickly follow you.

The elevator conversion is easy as it returns to the concert and all the Atiny outfits, reactions to the boys, and song choices. Their manager is a nice guy, funny too. You wouldn’t think someone with his sense of humor would be an Idol Manager instead of a comedian, but you guess he likes to stay behind the scenes. 

Finally arriving on the correct floor, you follow the manager down the hall to the store. As Cindy makes an impression of one of the Atiny who practically lost her voice from screaming during the encore, you nod thanks to the man holding the door. Walking in, you glance back at her, laughing and saying, “You would have thought Yunho was doing more than dancing on the stage with how loudly she was losing her shit over him standing there.”

When you face the front, you finally notice how dark the room is except for the single spotlit chair. You stop dead in your tracks as you wonder what the hell is going on. 

When you look back and see them standing at the door, Cindy breaks the silence, saying, “Remember everything we talked about in the hotel room. Dave completes me. You deserve to be complete, too.”

Taking your hand and pulling you to the only chair in the room, Kat says, “Eight of them can be overwhelming, but I believe each holds a piece of your soul that you lost when it shattered.”

From behind you, their manager adds, “I have known these boys for more than anyone else, and I have never seen a more dedicated soulmate group in my life, Miss Y/n. Listen with your heart to what they have planned.” 

With that, the three left the ballroom. 

As the lights went on, you sat straight in the chair, your heart beating a million miles a minute. Could you listen with your heart? Were you willing to allow these eight men to try and complete you? Would you be able to handle being their focus? Their heart of the bond?

Soft steps are all you hear before Mingi's unmistakable, rough but soulful voice starts singing without any music, and the floor lights come up. Here they are, all eight of them dressed in your favorite costumes from the shows. You knew they had to be tired after going back-to-back with shows. All you could see was longing, hope, tenderness, and willingness.  

Mingi’s eyes never leave you as he sings one of the most meaningful songs he and Hongjoong have ever written for Atiny. You recognized it immediately as it was one of the first Ateez ballads you had heard. You knew what the song meant from interviews. It was a song about finding love in the stars, finding their destiny, and protecting it– protecting you.

As Star 1117 ends, music fills as the men get closer to you. You brace for the feeling of being cornered to take over you that never comes. The most accepting and closed-off members stand right before you and begin singing a song you had only heard a few times because they performed it on a couple of shows. You don’t know the name, but you can remember words and phrases as they sing: Who are you? We were meant to be one, and the dark knight is shining; we’re shining in it. It takes you back at how honestly Jongho sings his parts; maybe he isn’t closed off at the idea of you anymore. 

Tilting your head back, you try to keep the tears from falling. You may not know Korean, but your heart, mind, body, and soul don’t seem to have the same language barrier. Their energies fill you as they move around you. While you cannot understand what you are feeling, you know the mix of deep emotions is not just emotions of your own. Closing your eyes for just a moment, you remember what your friends said to you – maybe it is time to be complete. 

When you finally look back at the soulmates, they are standing in a formation you haven’t seen in a long time as one of their older songs starts pumping you up and bringing a smile to your face. The song Promise was one of your favorite early songs of the band. When you first heard it, you thought either Hongjoong or Mingi had met their soulmate, and this was a song they wrote in dedication to them. Now you know, while that may have very much been true, they are singing it now to make a promise to you. 

Emotions overwhelm you as you do your best to mouth the words along with them, not wanting to ruin their harmonization with your botched Korean. Happy tears start to fall as you lean into the song and the pressure in your chest, no longer completely frightened by what you think is where the bond will hold to you. 

Thinking the mini-show is over, you watch them all gather in front of you and mill around. It isn’t until they all stop and you notice their positions that you let out a very embarrassing squawk, which turned into a series of ‘oh my god’s and clapping when you heard your absolute favorite song from the show, that you had complained about not seeing well, was about to be danced less than two feet from you. 

It was one of their songs that you knew every word, every move, and you couldn’t believe they would be doing this song for you. This song was the song that pulled you out of your depression after Darren was murdered. The song caught your heart with its words, your eye with their stunning visuals, and your soul with the timber of their voices. 

Midway through the song, you realize what these songs mean to the eight soulmates looking for you to be their focus and their heart, but your mind still has the dark voice telling you that someone like you cannot be strong enough for them. 

However, your soul starts whispering to you, telling you to find guidance with Hongjoong and home in Seonghwa, make Yunho a pillar and Mingi your solace, seek safety from San and security beside Wooyoung, and obtain tranquility through Yeosang and foundation with Jongho.

Maybe you don’t have to be strong enough for them…they have to be strong enough for you.

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[after-witch]

Horrorfest: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Title: And Be Immortal [Yandere Dabi x Reader]

Synopsis: "I think I'm being haunted," you say. "By the ghost of my dead best friend."

For Horrorfest request:

Dabi with the movie Candyman?

Word Count: 1084

notes: yandere, implied kidnapping

“I think I’m being haunted.” 

The words come out so fast that you’re not entirely sure that your friend heard them at first, until she gives you a look that is a mixture of pity, confusion  and--maybe you’re imagining it--curiosity. 

“By my best friend’s ghost,” you continue, when she doesn’t say anything. You stumble a bit over the words, realizing how crazy it sounds, how out-there. Especially to your friend who has never given so much as an inkling that she believes in anything remotely supernatural. 

“He died when we were younger--there was a fire, and…” 

You shake your head, unwilling to go further. 

Your friend reaches out, touches your arm. When you look up, she’s got the softest, kindest expression on her face. A smile, subtle and warm, with a twitch of knowing anxiety behind it.

“I know something that might help.”

--

You wake up, breath hitching, sweat covering the back of your head, making your hair and pillowcase damp and uncomfortably warm. 

--

“All you have to do is say their name in the mirror three times,” your friend told you. “And they will appear to you.” She paused. “You could try to get closure. Or at least know that you’re not crazy.” She laughed a little, but the sound didn’t match her expression. 

It was your turn to look confused--and curious.

“My neighbor had a problem with a ghost,” she clarified. You stared, and she bit her lip. “And… so did I, once.”

You frowned. She had never mentioned it, not even once. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your friend shrugged.

“You probably wouldn’t have believed me back then.”

You said nothing, because she was probably right on that count. You didn’t really believe in ghosts yourself until a few weeks ago. 

That was when it all started--the haunting. 

Items missing from your apartment, treasured things. Your old stuffed bear. A photo of you and Touya as children, and that hurt the most, because it was the only one you still had. 

Your mother had misplaced your photo album before you moved out, but this one, the one you kept in a frame on your bookshelf, had been spared. Admittedly, the photo frame had gotten dusty, but so had other things from your childhood.

And now it was gone. Who would take it? Not some petty thief. Nothing valuable was missing. Just your personal treasures, and trinkets.

And then there were the noises. Footsteps in the night. The sound of a cupboard opening and shutting in the morning, before you got out of bed; sometimes they were left open, and your fingers twitched while you shut them.

And… you swear, you swear this is true, you began to get the distinct feeling that you were being watched. During the night, and then during the day. While you tried to sleep. While you showered. While you ate what simple meals you threw together, unable to focus much on cooking or shopping as time went on.

If what your friend told you is true, maybe you can get some closure. 

Maybe you can ask Touya to stop haunting you. 

Maybe you can tell him you’re sorry.

--

This isn’t going to work. It can’t work. It’s stupid. It’s crazy. You’re crazy.

You take a breath, then another. You’re just anxious. You’re just… frayed.

Nothing will happen, probably, and you’ll realize that this has all just been some walking fever dream, the end-result of too much stress from university and your job and all the villain attacks in the area. Your mind has clearly retreated to the last time you felt understood, safe, comfortable; aching for the hole left by the loss of your best friend, a hole that could never be filled no matter how much dirt you tried to shovel into it.

Your fingers fumble with the matches in the darkness of the bathroom. You were tempted to leave the door open, but your friend was clear on that count: it needs to be as dark as possible when you complete the ritual. 

There’s the telltale sound of the match strike, the faint scent of sulfur. And then the match is lit and you quickly hold it down towards the tea candles you set up on the bathroom counter. When they’re lit, the bathroom is less dim, but no less frightening. If anything, the flickering candlelight bouncing off the walls gives the room (and your reflection) a strangeness that makes your chest tighten.  

Just… do it. Do it and get it over with, and if nothing happens, then you can call a therapist to work through your clearly ongoing grief and stress issues. But if it does work, then maybe… maybe.

You exhale, closing your lips a little, and look straight into the mirror. 

“Touya… Touya… Touya.”

A moment, then another. Then another. 

But the reflection in the mirror doesn’t change. There is no rippling, no blurring, no appearance of the ghost of your dead friend. Nothing at all, except your own tired face and the flickering yellow-orange light of candles. 

A low ache blooms in your chest. What were you expecting? That his ghost would show up in the mirror and forgive you for not being there for him, forgive you for letting his picture get dusty, forgive you for living the life he never did? 

You scoff at yourself, at the ember-lit reflection in the mirror.

And then the bathroom door behind you creaks open, and every nerve in your body stands on edge.

The reflection in the mirror does change, then. Not replacing yours but showing a figure standing behind you. Not just a figure--

Touya is standing behind you.

Only his hair is black and he is burnt and it’s Touya, Touya, Touya burnt from the fire and here to drag you to hell or drive you crazy or something incomprehensible in between.  

You turn, slowly, aware of his reflection in the mirror, aware of the way adrenaline has taken away your ability to feel your body.

“Touya,” you say, voice hoarse. I’m sorry, how are you, why are you here, why have you been haunting me--all these words stick to the roof of your mouth.

The specter grips your wrists with all-too-warm hands, and oh, oh, this is not a specter but flesh and blood before you, something twisted and wrong but wholly alive.

“Not anymore,” he breathes out, and he smells of sulfur and ash. 

The candles behind you all snuff into darkness at the same time. 

[sleepingdayaway]

For The Dancing And The Dreaming

Guys idk how I’m doing this on mobile I usually post it on my laptop so idk if this will look good. Anyways it’s 4:30 in the morning and this is not edited. I wrote this spur of the moment bc I’m an idiot that doesn’t know how to write.

This is no specific Link! I wrote this bc I’m TRYING to write my own LOZ fic but got distracted. Either way I’m tired

You watch the roaring fire as it flickers in the night. The light from it shines around the area as you exhale softly. There is no point in camping outside anymore, but it's something that the both of you keep doing even after the adventure is over. 

It's the familiar feeling of having to take a quick rest before continuing to the next destination. The same feeling of having to rest with each other, having the world shut off, and being able to take a moment.

Footsteps approach your position before coming to a stop beside you, looking up and seeing the person who you; you’ve known your entire life. You're both older than when you first started the journey, for it caused you many physical challenges but still there are moments where you feel as though you’re back to before it all. 

Tonight is another night of thinking of the past; the bad and good, your accomplishments and your failures. They all still haunt you to this day even if your deeds were good. 

The weight of being back to nothing more than those kids again; the kids who had their own small bubble without knowing more than the whole world. Their only concern is if they'll be caught messing around again, or what new activity you'll try this time before getting bored and going back to the old ways.

A hand gently grasping onto yours pulls you out of your thoughts. Which makes you look up at him and witness the adoring smile he gives you. From the moment everything started he kept looking at you with the same emotion, but if you were to be honest, he held that look far before everything. Link, although not a very talkative person, is able to convey everything that he wants to say in different ways and still be able to express everything.

Watching him change from the boy you used to know to a hero who saved Hyrule; it made you happy to know that you were there the entire time. That he was able to rely on you and your own skills; and how you were able to also rely on him as well.

Never would either you believe that this was your destiny, but you're glad that you both had each other.

And now here you are in each other's presence with the fire in front of you. 

"I’m glad that we were in this together, Link." You said softly and curled your fingers around his hand. He hums in agreement and leaned into you; never taking his eyes off you. 

No one calls for either of you. There is nobody that needs to be saved anymore.

It's just the both of you once more. 

If you were to tell Link before this whole thing started that you'd be with him the entire time. He'd laugh but wouldn't deny it; he'd merely give a look with a shake of his head. Anything that he did, you would be right there and jump in with him. 

The both of you were practically inseparable; if he was there doing something then you would probably be somewhere nearby. For as long as Link knew you he could confidently say that he wouldn't trust anyone else than you.

Your unwavering presence motivated him to keep going. Your snarky remarks about the monsters. The way you freely expressed your fear, but still continued to fight. It made him feel a bit better about his own fears. You were his breath of fresh air whenever the journey took a huge toll on him. How you held him during the moments when he was able to take a break; and reassured him that he was only human that couldn’t shoulder everything. You shared his burden without a word and just held him in your arms.

Link liked you.

He always has if he's being honest, but it was during that moment where it fully clicked that he was fully unashamedly in love with you. Link wanted nothing more than to kiss you; to show his love and affection just for you.

Link decided at that moment that he will be there for you from that moment on. He may be Hyrule's Hero, The Golden Goddesses Chosen Hero, forever destined to pick up the Blade of Evil's Bane.

But for you he'll be anything for you.

He will be your hero until the next lifetime. Neither time nor death will separate him from you for he'll always find you no matter what. 

Suddenly he stood up and pulled you with him and held you close. Staring into your eyes with many emotions running through them. 

“[Name], I want you to know that I love you.” Link spoke softly as he kept holding you. You blink at him since it’s been awhile you’ve heard him call your name; relaxing in his hold you smile.

 “You’ve been through this whole thing with me even though I didn’t ask you to,” he continues, “So now, I want to be there for you with anything you need. I love you and I can’t see myself without you being near me.” He confesses.

He would do anything just to have you by his side, “I would bring you gems, jewelry; I will defend you from any creature that tries to hurt you, if you’ll have me-” Link chokes up a bit as he feels his emotions take a hold of him.

You reached out and held his face in your hands, and brought him closer to you. “I don’t have any use for gems nor jewelry. I don’t care if you can protect me or not, I will gladly stay by you.”

Laughing gently at your words, Link places his head onto yours as you run your fingers through his hair. “My dear, I could never be cruel to deny you nor my love. As long as I’m beside you; I am satisfied.” You continued before closing your eyes and leaning onto him.

The world may never call for Link anymore, but that’s fine with him. As long as he has you he’ll forever be hopelessly in love.

[kikiyoomis]

it’s not hard for sakusa to voice out his thoughts and opinions. he sees no point in beating around the bush. while others might think voicing out their thoughts and opinions makes them unlikable, vulnerable or weak, sakusa never once worried about other people thought about him and what he said.

until now.

prided with his ability to remain consistent and put in effort with everything that he does, sakusa doesn’t know what to do when his usual routine slips right out from under his feet.

these past few weeks his serves were lacking, his receiving isn’t as solid and he kept missing spikes. not even punishing himself with a thousand reps was fixing it. he is at the peak of his career and he was watching in real time how everything was crumbling beneath him.

he’s panicking, especially when coach foster subbed him out the first set after his fourth miss of the game. normally sakusa doesn’t mind substitutions much but this was different. normally he was subbed off to rest when the game was going well. but that was usually towards the end of the game. this was the first set and he was not put on the starting lineup for the next four.

“it’s okay omi-kun! we all have our bad days!” bokuto tries to cheer him up after a close loss today.

“bokuto-san is right! after some rest you’re sure to be back on your game!” hinata joins in.

the locker room wasn’t as depressing as it usually is when the team loses. since it was only the preliminaries, the team can afford one loss. even atsumu didn’t seem to hold this loss too personally like he usually does.

“if omi-kun kept that up the entire game i might be more mad,” atsumu says offhandly to another member on the team, clearly without the intention of hurting sakusa but the words cuts deep. sakusa knows atsumu is like this whenever someone on the team is underperforming during the entire game. it was just that this was the first that sakusa was the victim.

“miya!” meian scolds atsumu, and all eyes are on sakusa. he doesn’t like the attention so he quickly packs his bag and leaves.

you’re there when he gets home. smiling and looking ever so beautiful wearing the replica of his jersey you bought years ago.

sakusa smiles back, but you can see that his smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“kiyoomi? what’s wrong? you don’t look so good,” you ask worriedly. this is the part where sakusa would tell you how frustrated he feels however the words are caught in his throat.

he didn’t care about what other people thought. he truly and whole heartedly does not care. but yours, he cares about immensely. more than anyone else’s. he wants to be the strong and dependable boyfriend you’ve always bragged to your friends and family about. but if he tells you, you’re going to think he’s weak and undeserving of your love. with everything going on lately, he suddenly feels scared.

he stands there silently, unmoving. the corners of his mouth turning downwards with every passing moment. his hair hides his eyes, but a singular tear rolls down his cheek before he can realize it.

“is everything okay?” you ask him, shocked because this is the first time sakusa has ever cried around you.

there’s a part of him that’s telling him no, to not tell you what’s on his mind because he’s afraid. but there’s another part of him that’s telling him to tell you because no matter what you’ll be there for him.

but sakusa undecidedly picks neither. he shakes his head ‘no’ but doesn’t tell you why. he can’t bring the words out of his mouth. hell he can’t even calm the turmoil in his mind to even string his thoughts into coherent sentences.

he feels your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him down into an embrace. with his face in the crook of your neck, the security that no one else but you can see him like this, he wraps his arms around your waist and lets his tears flow.

it’s quiet, silent tears at first. but slowly, his shoulders starts to shake as he’s left alone with his thoughts while you comforted him.

“i don’t know why this is happening. i took all the counter measures. i took breaks when i needed to. i practices hard. i never slacked off. i took care of my health. i’m following the doctors, physicians and dietitians’ recommendations and prescriptions. why is this happening? why, why, why? i can’t let this be the way my career ends,” sakusa rambles and you pat his head in comfort.

you didn’t always have the thing he needed to hear ready to say. this is one of those times. you’re flawed too. everything that you could have suggested to sakusa was something that he already tried. what could you say?

but you didn’t need to. the warm comforting embrace was all sakusa needed. this was something only you could give. his teammates wasn’t going to give him comfort like this (they were never going to be close enough to hug anyways) and his family wouldn’t understand his struggles as an athlete. but you did. with every day and night he spent with you, the more the two of you grew to understand each other.

“no one has a perfect career,” you finally say. sakusa hugs you a little tighter, still a little apprehensive about what you might say next.

“but we’ll get through it. maybe it’s not what you’re doing wrong but how? maybe instead of the same consistent routine, you change it up a bit. change the order, give your body something new to work with?” you suggest.

with tear stained cheeks sakusa looks a little stunned at what you said. but he wipes his tears and nods.

sakusa tells other people what he’s thinking without remorse or second thoughts. but with you, sometimes he gets second thoughts because he doesn’t want you to have an ill opinion of him. but it’s okay. he doesn’t need to tell you everything when you can wordlessly read what’s on his mind anyways. and he can always count you being there for him, at his best and at his worst, even if at the moment he doesn’t know. because you’ll always let him know that you will be.

[estapa-edwards]

UNEXPECTED - R. MCGROARTY

paring: rutger mcgroarty x fem! reader

word count:3k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n.

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I never thought I'd find myself in this situation. Of all the people in the University of Michigan, why did it have to be Rutger McGroarty? I mean, the guy was a hockey legend, scoring goals left and right on the ice and having his face plastered all over campus posters. But off the ice? Let's just say, we were like oil and water.

It all started in Professor Williams' Advanced Statistics class. We were assigned a semester-long project that would contribute a significant portion to our final grades. The catch? We had to work in pairs, and Professor Williams, in his infinite wisdom, decided to pair me up with Rutger. Great.

I slumped in my seat, trying to disappear into the lecture hall's worn-out upholstery as Professor Williams announced the pairings. When he finally called out, "Y/N and Rutger McGroarty," I felt like the entire room turned to look at me, probably to see my reaction. And what was my reaction? Pure dread.

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The first meeting was a disaster. Rutger strolled in wearing his Michigan hockey team jacket, a smug grin plastered on his face as he tossed his bag onto the table. "So, statistics, huh? Should be easy," he remarked, barely looking at the project guidelines I had painstakingly printed out.

I shot him a skeptical look. "Easy for you, maybe. I'm not exactly a math whiz."

He chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll handle the numbers. You can handle... whatever it is you're good at."

I rolled my eyes. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence."

As the weeks passed, our project meetings evolved into something entirely unexpected. Rather than focusing solely on statistics and data analysis, our time together became a battleground of differing opinions and clashing personalities. Rutger, with his competitive spirit, always seemed eager to take the lead, often making decisions without even glancing in my direction.

One evening, as we were deep in discussion about our data collection methods, Rutger leaned over the table, his eyes locked onto mine with a mischievous glint. "You know, Y/N," he said, a playful smirk playing on his lips, "I think we should use my method. After all, it's tried and tested."

I raised an eyebrow, not amused by his arrogance. "And what about my method? Have you even considered it?"

He chuckled softly, leaning even closer, his voice low and flirty, "Teamwork? I thought you were just here to witness my brilliance."

I groaned internally, rolling my eyes at his audacity. How had I ended up with such an arrogant project partner?

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During another one of our study sessions, tensions reached a boiling point. We were deep in a heated debate about the interpretation of our data, and Rutger's competitive nature was once again on full display. He suddenly stood up, towering over me with his imposing hockey player physique, making the small study room feel even more cramped.

"I still think my approach is better," he declared, his tone dripping with confidence and assertiveness.

I let out a deep sigh, trying to keep my frustration in check. "Rutger, can you please just listen to what I'm saying? This is a group project, remember? We're supposed to work together, not against each other."

He smirked, his eyes locking onto mine as he leaned down to my level, his face mere inches from mine. The audacity of his flirty demeanor in the midst of our disagreement only added to my irritation.

"Oh, I'm listening, Y/N," he said, his voice low and teasing, "I'm just waiting for you to see things my way."

I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks as I pushed my chair back, creating some much-needed distance between us. "Unbelievable," I muttered under my breath, shaking my head in exasperation.

Rutger leaned against the table, his smirk never wavering. "Come on, Y/N," he coaxed, his tone playful, "Admit it, you're starting to see the brilliance of my ideas, aren't you?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the fluttering in my stomach caused by his relentless flirting. "Rutger, this isn't a game. We need to work together and find a solution that we both agree on."

He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Alright, alright, I'll try to be more open-minded," he conceded, though the playful glint in his eyes suggested he was far from giving up on his competitive stance.

​​As we continued to work on our project, Rutger suddenly changed the subject, "Hey, Y/N, are you free this Friday night?"

Caught off guard by the sudden change in topic, I looked up from my notes, "Um, yeah, why?"

Rutger's smirk returned, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "Great! How about coming to one of my hockey games? It's a big one, and I'd love for you to be there."

I hesitated for a moment, surprised by his invitation. "I... I don't know, Rutger. I'm not really into hockey."

Rutger leaned in closer, his flirty demeanor returning full force. "Come on, it'll be fun! Plus, you get to see me in action. Who knows, you might even become a fan."

Despite my reservations, I couldn't help but feel intrigued. Rutger's passion for hockey was evident, and the idea of seeing him play, seeing a different side of him outside of our intense study sessions, was tempting.

"Alright," I finally conceded, a small smile playing on my lips, "I'll come to your game."

Rutger's face lit up with a triumphant grin. "Great! You won't regret it, I promise."

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The rest of the week flew by, and before I knew it, Friday night had arrived. I found myself at the university's ice rink, surrounded by enthusiastic fans wearing Michigan's colors and cheering for the team. The atmosphere was electric, with the excitement palpable in the air.

As the players took to the ice for warm-ups, I spotted Rutger, effortlessly gliding across the rink, his focus and determination evident. I had to admit, seeing him in his element was impressive. His skill and passion for the game were undeniable, and I found myself getting caught up in the excitement of the atmosphere.

Just as the game was about to begin, Rutger glanced up and spotted me in the stands. A wide smile spread across his face, and he waved enthusiastically in my direction. I waved back, feeling a warm flush of pride at his acknowledgment. It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot to me.

My friends, who had accompanied me to the game, noticed Rutger's friendly wave and looked at me with surprise. "Wait, did Rutger just smile and wave at you?" one of them asked, her eyebrows raised in disbelief.

I chuckled, nodding in response. "Yeah, I guess he did. He asked me to come tonight." 

My friends exchanged amused glances, clearly intrigued by the unexpected turn of events. "Wow, Y/N," another friend teased, "I didn't know you and Rutger had become so chummy. What's next, joining the hockey fan club?"

I laughed, rolling my eyes at their playful teasing. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I don't even like him like that." 

My friends exchanged knowing glances, clearly amused by my defensive response. "We never said you liked him like that," one of them teased with a smirk.

I felt my cheeks heat up, realizing I might have been a bit too quick to clarify. "Well, I just meant... you know," I stammered, trying to find the right words. "He's a good teammate and all, but it's not like that between us."

Another friend chuckled, nudging me playfully. "Sure, sure, Y/N. Whatever you say. But we saw that smile on your face when he waved at you. Admit it, you enjoyed being his special guest at the game tonight."

I rolled my eyes again, but this time with a smile. "Okay, okay, maybe I had more fun than I expected. But that doesn't mean anything's changed between us. We're still just project partners."

My friends laughed, clearly unconvinced by my attempts to downplay the evening's significance. "Alright, Y/N," one of them said, holding up their hands in mock surrender. "We'll let you off the hook for now. But don't be surprised if we start seeing you at more hockey games in the future."

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After the game, as I waited for Rutger outside the locker room, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected experience. Despite our rocky start and the constant challenges we faced during our project, I had gained a newfound appreciation for Rutger and his passion for hockey.

When Rutger finally emerged from the locker room, still in his gear but looking exhilarated, he flashed me a wide grin. "So, what did you think?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

I smiled back, genuinely impressed. "You were amazing, Rutger. I never realized how exciting hockey could be."

His grin widened, his eyes shining with happiness. "Told you, you might become a fan."

As Rutger and I began to walk away from the locker room, we were approached by two of his teammates, Ethan and Mark, both still in their Michigan hockey gear. They wore playful grins, clearly having spotted our interaction earlier.

"Hey, Rutger," Ethan began with a teasing tone, nudging Mark with his elbow. "Is this your girlfriend?"

Mark joined in on the joke, winking at me. "Yeah, Rutger, you didn't tell us you were bringing your special someone to the game tonight."

Rutger chuckled, rolling his eyes at his teammates' antics but not seeming entirely surprised by their teasing. "Very funny, guys," he said, his tone light and amused. He glanced over at me, offering a reassuring smile. "Ignore them, Y/N. They just can't resist a good joke."

I laughed, brushing off the playful teasing with a wave of my hand. "Don't worry, I'm not taking it seriously. But thanks for inviting me tonight, Rutger. I had a great time."

Ethan and Mark exchanged knowing glances, their grins widening. "Anytime, Y/N," Ethan said with a teasing tone. "You're always welcome to come and cheer for us... and for Rutger, of course."

Mark nodded in agreement, his playful demeanor still intact. "Yeah, maybe next time we'll even get you to wear a Michigan jersey... with Rutger's number on it."

I chuckled, shaking my head at their persistent teasing. "We'll see about that," I replied, glancing over at Rutger, who was still smiling despite his teammates' antics.

As we continued to walk towards the exit, Rutger's playful demeanor returned. "I hope they weren't too much for you," he said, his tone light.

I shrugged, smiling back at him. "They're just having some fun. I can handle a little teasing."

Rutger grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Good to know. And thanks again for coming tonight, Y/N. I'm glad you enjoyed the game."

I nodded, feeling genuinely grateful for the unexpected experience. "Me too, Rutger. It was a great game, and you played exceptionally well."

His smile widened, and for a moment, the playful, competitive edge that had defined so much of our project seemed to fade away, replaced by a genuine warmth and camaraderie.

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The day had finally arrived to wrap up our project, and Rutger and I found ourselves in the university library, huddled over our laptops and notes. The tension in the room was undenible, not just from the looming deadline, but also from the lingering awkwardness between us.

As we worked on the final touches, I noticed Rutger's eyes drifting from his laptop to me more than a few times. Each time our eyes met, he quickly looked away, but I couldn't help but feel his gaze on me.

"Is everything okay, Rutger?" I finally asked, breaking the silence that had settled between us.

Rutger looked up, seeming caught off guard by my question. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that," he stammered, running a hand through his hair. "I was just thinking about the project, that's all."

I raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced by his explanation. "You seem distracted. Are you sure there's nothing else on your mind?"

Rutger hesitated, his gaze meeting mine once again. This time, he didn't look away immediately, and I could see a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "Honestly, Y/N," he began, his voice softer than usual, "I've been meaning to say something."

I felt my heart skip a beat, curious and slightly apprehensive about what he was about to say. "Go on," I urged, setting aside my work to give him my full attention.

Rutger took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine. "I just wanted to say thank you," he said, his tone sincere. "Despite our differences and the challenges we've faced, you've stuck by me and put in the effort to make this project a success. I really appreciate it."

I was taken aback by his honesty, feeling a wave of relief wash over me. "You're welcome, Rutger," I replied, smiling genuinely at him. "Despite our disagreements, I think we made a pretty good team in the end."

Rutger grinned, his eyes lighting up. "Yeah, we did," he agreed, his gaze lingering on me a moment longer than necessary. "And for the record," he added, his tone teasing, "I wasn't just staring at you because you're distracting. I was also trying to figure out how to ask you out after we finish this project."

I chuckled, caught off guard by his candidness but also intrigued by his confession. "Oh, really?" I responded, raising an eyebrow playfully. "And here I thought you were just lost in thought about the project."

Rutger laughed, his grin widening as he leaned back in his chair. "Well, the project was definitely on my mind, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't also thinking about what comes next."

I felt a warmth spread through me, a mix of surprise and excitement at his bold admission. "Well, now that the project is done," I replied, my voice tinged with amusement, "I guess you have your answer, don't you?"

His eyes met mine, the playful glint replaced by something softer, more genuine. "I do," he said, his voice low and sincere. "So, what do you say, Y/N? Would you like to go out with me?"

I smiled, feeling a sense of anticipation and curiosity about where this unexpected connection might lead. "I'd like that, Rutger," I answered, my own voice softening.

Rutger's smile was infectious, his eyes shining with happiness as he stood up, extending a hand towards me. "Great," he said, his tone light but sincere. "How about dinner tomorrow night? We can celebrate our successful project and whatever this is."

I accepted his hand, standing up to meet his gaze. "Dinner sounds perfect," I replied, feeling a flutter of excitement at the prospect of getting to know Rutger beyond the confines of our project.

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I sat across from Rutger at a quaint French bistro nestled in the heart of downtown Ann Arbor. The restaurant had a warm and intimate atmosphere, with soft lighting, rustic wooden tables, and a hint of romantic charm in the air. It was our first official date since wrapping up our project, and I was both nervous and excited.

Rutger was in the middle of sharing a funny anecdote from one of his hockey games when the door to the bistro opened, and in walked Ethan and Mark. My heart sank as I saw them, and I could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Of all the restaurants in Ann Arbor, they had to walk into the one where Rutger and I were having our date?

Ethan and Mark spotted us almost immediately and made their way over, their grins widening as they approached our table. Rutger looked up, clearly surprised to see his teammates, but his expression quickly turned amused as he saw Ethan and Mark's cheeky smiles.

"Hey, Rutger," Ethan began with a teasing tone, leaning against the back of an empty chair at our table. "Fancy seeing you here."

Mark chimed in, winking at me, "And with Y/N, no less. Who would've thought?"

Rutger chuckled, clearly unfazed by his teammates' interruption. "What are you guys doing here?"

Ethan shrugged, still grinning. "We knew you two would finally get together. Just wanted to see it with our own eyes."

I felt my cheeks grow even hotter, wishing the floor would swallow me up. Rutger, however, seemed to find the situation amusing.

"Alright, alright," Rutger said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "You've had your fun. Now, give us some space, will you?"

Mark chuckled, raising his hands in mock defense. "Alright, alright. We'll leave you two lovebirds alone. But remember, Rutger, you owe us for this."

Ethan nodded in agreement, pointing a finger at Rutger. "Yeah, don't forget it."

With one last round of playful teasing and laughter, Ethan and Mark finally retreated, leaving Rutger and me at our table, slightly flustered but also laughing at the unexpected turn of events.

Rutger shook his head, grinning at me. "I'm sorry about that, Y/N. My teammates can be a bit... overbearing."

I chuckled, feeling more at ease now that the awkward encounter was behind us. "It's okay, Rutger. It was bound to happen eventually, right?"

He smiled, reaching across the table to take my hand. "Absolutely. And who knows, maybe we should thank them. Their little interruption broke the ice, so to speak."

I laughed, feeling grateful for Rutger's easygoing nature and his ability to turn a potentially awkward situation into a moment of shared laughter.

"Maybe you're right," I agreed, squeezing his hand in return. "After all, it wouldn't be a true Michigan experience without a little interference from your teammates."

Rutger grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Exactly. So, where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?"

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me as I remembered the conversation we had been having before Ethan and Mark's unexpected arrival. "You were about to tell me about that overtime goal you scored last week."

Rutger's face lit up, and as he launched back into his story, I found myself once again captivated by his passion for hockey and his infectious enthusiasm. Despite the awkward interruption, our date was turning out to be more enjoyable than I had anticipated, and I was grateful for the unexpected twist that had made our evening even more memorable.

[raeofsunrise]

skate to me

pairing: clapton davis x gn!reader

summary: !BASED OFF A REQUEST I FORGOT TO ATTACH THIS TO! clapton was absolutely astonished when he saw that the person who skated right by him in the hallway was right here, next to him, in his science class.

warnings: light cursing, i think?? i’m not fucking sure at this point

word count: 1.0k

author’s note: so sorry it took me like a whole month to get back! 😭this has been crazy ass couple of months, and i just couldn’t get anything out if i tried. i honestly think that i might take a break on writing for clapton and characters like mike, simply because i don’t think i have any motivation to write for them. i don’t wanna let you guys down, but i also don’t wanna write crappy fics, either. i’ll say on a separate post who i’ll be writing for. thanks so much for your guys support! and with that, enjoy ☆

clapton thought he was the only one who skated through the hallways of grizzly lake highschool. it wasn’t like he gatekeeped it or anything, but it was his thing. and everyone knew that.

so when he felt you brush against him in the hallway this morning, he barely got a glimpse of your shoes and purple hoodie before you skated away. it frustrated him—

wait, skated?

he thought he was crazy. he had to have hallucinated those rollerskates. but the sound when you rushed by him, those had to have been rollerskates. but nobody else but him did that. that was his thing. besides his ego being a bit affected, he was more excited than anything. maybe he could make a new friend. he’d never met anyone else who skated, especially at school. but where did you go? no, more importantly, what class were you in? clapton was not famous for being patient, so this would be difficult.

he begrudgingly made his way to science class, upset that he might not see you until passing period, where the hallway would be filled with what felt like thousands upon thousands of people. no way he was gonna see you during that. and if he tried to find you during lunch? he’d definitely look like a total creep. so this was a lose lose situation. he’d never be able to talk to the stranger with the skates.

this made clapton’s walk to class even more frustrating. throughout the whole day, all he could hope for was to hear your skates against the ground. but he didn’t. not once. it was the end of the day, and he was heading to his last class. clapton was just about done with everything when he saw a pair of skates next to a desk. and just above that desk was a purple hoodie. and even more above that was probably the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen.

he was practically just standing and staring in the doorway. of course you weren’t staring back at him, he thought. you were busy listening to music and getting ready for class, getting your notebooks and everything.

clapton didn’t move until another student shoved him out of the way so they couldd get through, muttering something under their breath in the process. clapton couldn’t care less, though. because there was an open seat next to you and what perfect timing was it that he was the only person who hadn’t sat down yet? this coincidence made him believe that maybe there was a god. maybe it was you.

his mood an entire 180 from how it was less than 2 minutes ago, he sat down right next to you, waiting for you to notice him like an excited child.

not noticing someone had sat next to you, you weren’t expecting someone to be right next to you. normally, as far as first days go, people liked to haze the new kid. so someone looking eager to talk to you was not a good sign.

“hi,” you say slowly, going to look at him.

“hey there, gorgeous.” he said. as soon as that came out of his mouth he knew that was a big yikes. (ayo?? 😟)

your eyes widened. what the hell was his problem?

“woah, coming off a little strong there, aren’t we?” you ask.

how could he save this already trainwreck of a conversation? if he could even call it that.

“sorry, don’t know why i said that. i just, uh,”

shit, shit, shit! think of something clapton!

“you skate, right? that’s pretty cool. i do, too.” he held up his skate board.

still suspicious and not at all buying this “no ill-intentions” act, you pull your skates closer to your desk.

“yeah, i do.”

he continues, “well i just thought that since we both skate we could—“

but he was cut off, as class had apparently started while you two were conversing and your teacher was not happy with either of you.

clapton heard the teacher say both of your last names, followed by a very stern “detention!”

this wasn’t anything surprising to him, but one look at you told him that this was not how you were expecting your first day to go.

you rolled your eyes and shot him a dirty look.

“thanks a lot, davis.”

so instead of a trainwreck, his attempt to talk to you was a total and complete fuck-up.

great.

——————

the end of class came painstakingly slow, and he saw you hurrying to head out so you didn’t have to walk to detention with him. i mean, could he blame you. he practically screwed over your entire day.

clapton always took himself as an optimist, so maybe he could still save this. right?

as you put on your skates, unaware that this might land you in even more trouble, you felt someone tap you on your shoulder.

there was nobody else left in the classroom besides you and the person who you did not wanna see. so you turn around, and with no surprise, there was the douche who landed you in detention.

“oh, are you here to get me suspended, too?” you ask.

he couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“yeah, i deserve that. sorry about all…this, by the way. i really didn’t mean for you to get in trouble.” he said.

damn, you thought. he’s not a bad actor.

you smiled a not-so-friendly smile back at him. “sure, you didn’t.”

you try to skate away and out of the classroom, but he catches up to you on his skateboard.

“no, seriously! i just wanted to talk to you. i’ve never met anyone who also skates, and i just thought you were really cool and pretty and—“

you stopped skating ahead of him a while ago, but he didn’t notice that, so he kept skateboarding right into an open locker’s door.

you let out a laugh that definitely let every teacher in the vicinity know you weren’t where you were supposed to be right now, but you couldn’t help it.

clapton got up, rubbing the side of his face.

you walk up to him and pat him on the cheek.

“okay, i believe you.” you say, crossing your arms afterwards.

he lets out a smile that you’re pretty sure you’re gonna have to get used to.

“anything i can do to make it up to you?” he asks.

you take off your backpack and shove it in his arms.

“carry this for me?” you say.

“that’s the least i can do.”

[shallyouobeyme]

Wander

Platonic!Yandere Wanderer x Reader (GN)

Summary: It wasn't just his mother who betrayed him fairly early on in his life, it was also his sibling - the only person he had been close to at that point in his life. At least that was what he thought. But once he had changed into the wanderer, some new information came to the light...

! Minors Do Not Interact !

TW: Probably not canon compliant with Wanderer's backstory since I don't have his character (sadly), Lumine is the Traveller in this one, kidnapping, dark content, obsession, kind of dying (but like not really), I do not condone this - this is all fantasy

As the story is told the archon of Inazuma, Goddess of Eternity, created a puppet which later became the feared Fatui Scaramouche - but that story isn't quite complete. One fateful fact that the story omitted was that the 'betrayed' puppet wasn't the Raiden's first attempt. Before him, she had breathed life into her very first puppet, a prototype of sorts, which had many faults from which the archon learnt. With the knowledge gained from them, she successfully created the wanderer and later the puppet she still uses to this day.

After his creation, the wanderer was left in the care of his predecessor as the archon attended to her duties and the two grew close due to their shared nature. In fact, the wanded soon realized that his sibling - as humans would probably call them - meant more to him than anything else in the world and he looked forward to spending eternity together with them and their mother. But Destiny had something else planned for him.

And so the story continued, but it wasn't just his mother who betrayed him, no his sibling stood by her side when he was cast out, ignoring his pleas to come with him, to stay by his side. So all throughout his travels, through joining the Fatui, through trying to achieve Godhood, his anger at those he had considered family stayed constant. He had to admit to himself that somewhere very deep inside of him he still felt a longing to be by his sibling's side and even though he would never admit it, he knew that once he'd become the god he was always meant to be he would give them another chance. A chance to leave behind the woman who had created them to join him, to stand by his side as they were always meant to.

While during his time as a Fatui, the wanderer heard many things about Raiden through the many spies in Inazuma or just general news, he never heard any news about his sibling, not even from the most dedicated spies. And so their fate eluded him which was the reason that after his defeat by Lumine and Nahida, and after he changed into who he was now - the wanderer, looking for a new purpose - he was especially curious when Paimon started talking about Inazuma and local affairs.

Especially when you were mentioned. His sibling. The person who had not left his mind for the entire time he had been gone. And what he heard Paimon say changed everything for him.

"We met up with Ei recently - I hope you don't mind us talking about her, we know you're still bitter about that whole deal - and she brought one of her puppets along. They kind of reminded Paimon of you, they didn't look like the Shogun at all and they had their own personality, just like you. I think Ei said their name was Y/N-" Paimon rambled on, Lumine walking beside them, used to Paimon's constant chattering by now and not needing to pay much attention anymore. Usually at the first mention of his mother, Wanderer would have interrupted her snarkily to stop her talking, but at the slight chance of hearing news of you, he had to let her keep talking, "-They were really, really nice. They even told us about when they were made. Paimon wonders if that's similar to how you were made."

Paimon did not wait for him to respond, instead happily continuing talking the aspect of not being interrupted for once: "What did they say again? Oh, yes, they were also made to hold the Shogun's Gnosis, but they weren't strong enough, Ei said that she gave them consciousness so that they could help care for future Puppets. So they even took care of you, right?" Wanderer didn't bother replying, instead working through the fact he had just heard. His mother had given you consciousness? Somehow he had always assumed you were just like him, that you had gained consciousness when your mother had attempted to place her gnosis in you.

"Oh well, seems like they grew on the shogun because even after they made their successful puppet they kept them around. It's all the better for it though, knowing what would happen when Ei'd leave them behind," Paimon sighed and for the first time, Wanderer intercepted.

"What do you mean? What would happen?"

"You don't know?" Paimon looked at him surprised, she must've expected him to know all about your time before he was made, "Because Ei was the one who gave them life, she also became the source of their life, if they ever leave Ei's surroundings, they'll turn back into a puppet. At least that's what Y/N told us, but they're so nice, I don't think they'd lie."

That changed everything for the Wanderer. If what the little flying Imp was saying was true, then you had never betrayed him. You had no choice. You were bound to your mother, unable to leave even if you wanted to - which you must have. Suddenly his life had a new meaning. He'd free you, so that you'd finally be able to spend eternity by his side, under his protection. You'd finally be siblings again, just like you were always meant to.

Without giving any care for his companions, Wanderer took off in a different direction. More specifically, the direction of Sumeru's harbour. He'd do whatever he had to to get to you, to free you, to save you. He stole a boat - may or may not hurting the owner in the process - and made his way towards his old home, a place he had sworn only to return to once he had become a god, but now there were new priorities in place. He still knew many secret spots surrounding the Archon's home and luckily for him, given his mother's personality, not a lot had changed in the past years.

It was easy for him to secretly make his way into the chambers you and him had shared after your creation - it was only now that he realized that the reason you had shared was that Ei hadn't bothered to give you your own since you were already a failure in her eyes. And what a sight to behold he found there, you were sitting in the window nook you had already loved when he had still lived there, reading a book. You hadn't changed at all, time had not touched you.

As he stepped closer, a shadow was cast over you that made you look up. Your eyes widened, but he saw the happiness in them. Had you missed him as much as he had missed you?

"You're back!" you shouted happily as you jumped up and ran towards him, embracing him in a hug that he gladly reciprocated. Oh, how he'd missed that - but now he'd never have to go without this happiness again. But as quick as the happiness had set in, it diminished when you turned back and looked at him worriedly. "You-You can't be here, Mother will- She can't know you're here, you have to leave."

Anger built up in him - of course, even when he was here to save you, his mother had to make things difficult for him. But he wouldn't let her ruin this, not as long as he had to fight for you.

"She will never find out, we will leave right now and we'll be off this island before she'll be any wiser. Don't worry," he told you to calm you down as he took your hand in his and pulled you with him - he was always the stronger of you (for reasons that were now obvious) so even though you tried to get him to stop, he just pulled you harder.

"We? I can't leave Inazuma, I need to be close to Mother," you tried to reason with him, but he just shook his head and disagreed with you. "She only makes you believe that, you don't need her, I can be your new source of life, we only need each other."

"But that's not how this works-" you tried again, but then there were guards shouting and running after the two of you. But because of your resistance, you were slower than usual - if it kept on like that, they'd catch up to you and you knew that if they were to try to capture your brother, something horrible would happen - either to him or to them - and you couldn't allow that to happen. So, even though you knew that it would mean your end, you took up the pace and ran along with Wanderer.

The two of you quickly arrived at his boat and he hoisted you into it before using his vision to bring quite some distance between the boat and the shore. He didn't notice you sitting on the other side of the boat looking back at the island with a sad kind of desperation. You knew that your life would end any second now, but you didn't mind all that much, after all, you had already extended the span of life you should have had. And now your life would end protecting someone you love, so you could die without any regrets.

"Brother, I want you to know that what will happen now isn't your fault, nor is it Mothers. Please, just be free, live your life in peace, and be happy," you called out to him, causing him to turn to you in confusion. He wanted to ask what you meant, but before the word could leave his lips, your body fell limp. Quickly, he rushed towards you, hoping you had just fallen unconscious, but as he turned your body to lie in his lap, he realized that the worst had come to pass. What he turned wasn't his sibling, it was a puppet of wood and wires. Gone was the animation in your face or the faux skin on your body, instead it was all just wood and paint. A puppet.

As Inazuma disappeared behind the horizon, he found a new reason for his existence. You had asked him to be happy, but how could he ever be happy if you weren't by his side? He'd move Celestia and the abyss if he had to, would make deals with whatever creature was out there and willing to help, if all else failed he would even return to his mother - everything to bring you back...

A/N: Thank you for reading the eleventh entry into my Yandere Writetober - I hope you enjoyed and you may want to comment and reblog, who knows. Tomorrow's word is 'Spicey' so I hope I'll see you again in my notifications

[emilyywhyy]

JJK Men Find Out You’re Pregnant!

Nanami will bring you into a warm and loving hug. He has actually been reading up on pregnancy and the entire process. This was not planned but he’s been planning to ask you about kids. If you said no, that was the end of it, he’d never push it. But the joy on your face when you told him you were carrying his child, only matchable to the joy he felt in his heart because the one person he loves more in his life, happily ready to have a family with him is so much more than he could have asked for. He will make sure you are so well taken care of, attend every doctor appointment, and on the other end of this pregnancy might even know more about the process than you. The man wastes no time in educating himself so he can make your life as easy as possible.

Gojo appears calm and happy on the outside, wrapping you carefully into his arms and murmuring sweet nothings into your head. On the inside? He’s lost it. What do babies need to survive? What to pregnant woman need? How do you change a diaper? He’s the strongest but he really does not know anything about babies or baby care. He’ll keep his composure for a good long while but a few months in you’ll find him frantically bulk buying every baby related item he can find because he just wants to be safe.

Geto would be happy. Calm happy. He would make a big reveal party to tell the girls, who would be so excited to have a baby sibling! Geto, shockingly but also somehow not, is very knowledgeable about pregnancy. Him and the girls take great care of you. If he does even slip up once the girls will make sure he fixes any mistakes. They will be your biggest advocate during the pregnancy. Y’all think Geto is scary? Pray for anyone who even looks at you the wrong way, the girls will destroy them. Geto will watch with pride in his eyes.

Choso would be confused initially. But after some explaining, he would be overjoyed. Another family member for the family man himself. You’ll have to teach him quite a few things, but he’s a more than eager learner. I refuse to believe Yuji wouldn’t tell him human pregnancy is just like it is in the Alien movies, where the creature explodes from your stomach. He’ll call you one day when he’s hanging out with Yuji and the others and he’ll start crying asking how you’re going to survive. You find it hilarious but gently assure him that is not the case. He’ll come home immediately and y’all will cuddle.

Toji would be happy, but nervous. He’s always nervous about your well being, mainly because of how his last love ended up. He will seem aloof and busier, but, that’s because he’s been taking up more jobs. More jobs, more money. More money, more stability. He just wants to the best for you. He will get Shiu to take you to appointments, and half way through you’ll tell him you miss him and you’re worried he’s been so distant. He’ll apologize, explain himself, be more present, and the only time you’ll find him sneaking off is when he leaves in the middle of the night to go stock up on your recent cravings.

Ino 100% freaks out immediately. Like he’s happy, but nervous. What do you need? How can I help? Do we need to go to the doctor now? Are you hungry? Are you in pain? You have to hush him because you’re getting frazzled at this point. He’s the most attentive man ever during your pregnancy. Anything you want, any weird craving you have, he’s got it. You’re getting spoiled rotten. He will definitely cry when holding the baby for the first time.

( @packsvlog )

[herefortheships]

I guess Bj wouldn't be as kind and selfless to let Lydia marry someone else, so is the dream theory more realistic?

I guess it depends entirely on interpretation, but my take on it is that for Betelgeuse to be selfish and possessive enough of Lydia to intervene in her relationships it would depend on the person she's involved with and how the relationship is going. Like I mentioned before in this post, he simply might not have had the power to intervene or even reach Lydia beyond just projecting flashes of his presence around her, when she was with Richard, but I can also believe that he just let her go and be happy during that time. However, he definitely wanted to intervene in her relationship with Rory, because Rory was a toxic partner and would eventually destroy Lydia. He was already destroying her, as a matter of fact. So in this case, Betelgeuse would never allow this man to have his Lydia, no way. He'd have done anything possible to get in the way.

When it comes to Lydia, Betelgeuse is just different. Lydia is special and he does love her, so he might just have been putting her best interest and her happiness first when she was with Richard, even above his own feelings, which is big for someone like Betelgeuse if you ask me. I don't know for sure how long he was like trapped in the model before Barbara and Adam dug him up (probably since the moment Adam built the model?), but my assumption is that even before he was bound to the model he was strapped down some other way by Juno in the afterlife (and if I add my own little headcanon, even before he was stopped by Juno he was an aimless spirit unable to move on, bound to the ritual of marriage), so Lydia is definitely the first woman he loved since Delores (don't think there were other ghost ladies in his afterlife, is what I mean), it would be natural that he became possessive of the one person he made a connection with in hundreds of years. Lydia is the first woman he's fallen in love with since Delores. This is confirmed in the wedding dance scene. That said, if he loves her truly, part of loving someone is letting them go if their happiness depends on it. (Once Lydya is free after Rory, though, the story is different; now Betelgeuse has a shot and I don't see him letting her go any time soon 😉).

I already shared my thoughts about the Dream Theory before, but I can add a little more here to answer the question more completely. While I personally have a different interpretation of the events in the movie, I do find the Dream Theory very intriguing and interesting to read. I can say in some ways it can be more realistic, considering Betelgeuse's nature, and looking at Lydia as a character. Lydia is attracted to the darkness; she likes the strange and unusual, and she described herself as such in the first movie. She might have at some point called on Betelgeuse after the Maitlands moved on, and opted to live with him rather than to live with another living person. The first Beetlejuice movie doesn't really go into Lydia's head when it comes to Betelgeuse. It could be that any persistent negative ideas she had about him were all put in her head by Barbara. As she grew older she might have changed the way she viewed him and even be intrigued by him. The Maitlands were definitely more her parents than Charles and Delia ever were, and Lydia always connected more with the dead than the living (we can throw in Astrid's resentment about this fact here as a reflection of guilt in Lydia's subconscious about it, if Astrid truly is a dream figure existing only in the dream). This is all speculative, of course, but yes I don't think it's unrealistic to conclude that it was all a construct of Betelgeuse's power. I have a different interpretation, which I talked about in the post linked above.

When it comes to Lydia, Betelgeuse is softer, and I think he would do pretty much anything for her. Whether that is being selfless and allowing her the freedom to love someone else, when he failed to reach her, or building a dreamverse for her to experience the things she can't have while being his forever partner.

[thegreengnome]

Can you please write a fic where a lord tries to win over Aemond’s betrothed because he thinks nobody would want someone like Aemond but she immediately rejects him and tells him that she owes Aemond which he overhears.

Fandom – House of the Dragon

Word Count - 626

Pairing – Aemond Targaryen X Reader

Warnings – Very oc Aemond Targaryen

NOTE- I hope this is okay! I'm sorry if Aemond is very occ but i do think given the chance of 'love' he would act very different then we have previous seen from him.

Aemond is a Targaryen prince, a member of the royal family, and a dragon rider. He knew he was better than most in this room yet he could not help but twitch in agitation at the sight Infront of him.

Y/N L/N glided beautifully around the grand hall. Her hair floated after her in an almost halo effect. She truly looked ethereal. The man Infront of her on the other hand looked like he could be Vhagar's next meal.

Aemond's betrothed had only been at court for two moons but Aemond already knew she was his, and his alone.

During their first meeting his lady did not flinch nor gasp at the sight of his face as most ladies of the court had done. No, she had curtsied and smiled prettily up at him. Earnest in her chance to get to know her future husband.

He often found her waiting for him in the great library. The maester acting as a chaperone to the unmarried pair. Y/N would bring her recommendations to him expressing her interest in her latest find while he quietly observed her.

The way her fingers would follow along with the words, gently touching the pages so not to damage them. Her mouth quirking ever so slightly at an amusing or befuddling line, turning the page towards him to share in her merriment.

He had truly never felt so content before. His entire life had been built around duty and honour and this marriage was just another part of his duty. At least at first. He had known what it felt to be feared, loathed, and even hated but never loved. Perhaps he should feel love from his family – his mother at least but he knew all she felt for him was guilt. Guilt at the loss of his eye, at the lack of a loving father. He was the result of duty, much like he assumed his own children would be.

But with Y/N he felt seen. Nothing scandalous had happened between the two. Every interaction perfectly innocent.

“I’m surprised brother” the strong scent of ale and wine hit him as his older brother Aegon leaned his head down “if my women danced with another then that person that dared touch her would no longer have hands”

Aegon rarely said anything of interest to Aemond. He preferred to pretend his brother was not around, it was easier than dealing with him. But for once in his life Aegon made a point.

Ignoring the satisfied smirk on his brother’s face Aemond excused himself from the table. Approaching the dancing pair, the conversation between them became clear.

“I could give you everything he cannot” The man was lucky they were in polite company, or Infront of his mother.

Y/N abruptly stopped her movement. Her partner stumbling awkwardly to keep up. Muttering apologises to the remaining couples.

Removing herself from the embrace, Y/N moves back a polite smile on her lips. “I very much doubt that my lord” curtsying slightly Y/N leaves the startled man behind as he splutters in indignation.

Aemond had never felt like this before. This pure unadulterated joy. He started the man down as he passes. Making his way to his betrothed who had found a nearby servant no doubt to notify the royal family of her departure.

“My lady” said lady spun quickly, a hand clutched to her chest.

“My prince. You startled me” Giving the lady an apologetic smile he takes her hand in his own. Bringing it up to his lips, he gives it a quick kiss amusing himself with the blush spreading across her face.

“Would you like to dance?”

The smile he was given in response would remain in his head for some time “Of course my prince”

[residentfromnowhere]

| CLICKED |

ModernAU!SanemiShinaguzawaXAFABReader

TW: Narcissism, Angst, Gaslighting & Unresolved Issues/Ending

“You’re not even looking at me right now.”

“Is there a reason too?” You say quietly.

“What do you mean? Is there a reason NOT to?”

You pause, eyes still glued to your fingers. It’s been two hours since dinner and you’re still upset about what he said during it. See, you would have brushed it off and called him an asshole but the fact he went a step further and semi play flirted with the waitress further angered you this making you no longer want to look or speak to him. The fact that he even asked that angered you more.

You shrug and then grab your phone out of your purse, not keen on having to explain yourself or what he did to him. If he doesn’t know why you’re acting this way, then that’s not your problem. You’re done explaining what and why whatever he does is wrong and choose to instead do something you’ve never done before, stop talking and looking at him.

You have been dating Sanemi Shinaguzawa for a couple of years and it wasn’t always sunflowers and sunshine but you tried to look past that because you really did love him but with the things he would say and the supposed “jokes” he would make concerning your looks, your personality and family, you started to reconsider if he even liked you let alone loved you back. Arguments were worse and the thing he would say would make you think he has cheated on you, which later he would get upset because he would claim he would never actually do that to you.

“Are you serious right now, y/n? I’m trying to have a conversation with you and you’re not even looking at me.” He says in annoyance. “Just tell me what’s wrong so we can get this over with and finish enjoying our night because this is getting annoying.” Your fingers suddenly stop and he notices your once neutral expression change to shock then anger. He hit a nerve and he hit it hard.

Annoying? You? Being annoying? Your feelings in which he clearly hurt when he straight up disrespected you by comparing you to her and flirted with her while jokingly putting you down annoys him? You gulp and you can feel the tears starting to form in the crevices of your eyes. You’ve done a great job holding them back but something just snapped.

The nerve to say such things when he was the one to hurt you. The one to say after fully checking the waitress out “man, you used to look that hot. Wonder what happened” and then laugh and look at you expecting you to agree. Your heart shattered in that moment and the smile you once had was wiped from your face. The food came shortly after and not another word was spoken. He would keep trying to have a conversation with you just for his words to fall to deaf ears. Your body was there but you were removed entirely which now brings you to this moment.

“How about you ask that girl what’s wrong with me since you’ve run out of things to put on your list. Maybe she can help you find out.”

You didn’t have to look up to know his face dropped completely and you didn’t have to look up to know what he was thinking. He was going back to two hours ago and trying to find a way to possibly gaslight you into thinking you were too sensitive just like he always did. You hear him scoff and lean back, as though he couldn’t believe what was coming out of your mouth. It pissed him off to no end that you were still hung up on earlier and without hesitation says, “Are you serious? You’re still mad about that? It was a joke for fuck sakes! God, if I knew you were this sensitive in the beginning, I would have went for your friend instead.”

You quickly look up at him and your mouth slightly opens, disbelief all over your face before quickly looking back down. Your face is numb now and Then something hit you, like some type of epiphany. This isn’t the first time he’s embarrassed and put you done like this, it’s just that this was in public and with this and memories of past arguments flooding back, you finally realize that this isn’t who you wanted to be with nor marry.

To realize the person you once considered your soulmate and friend was really the worst person for you and enjoys hurting you brings you relief but shatters you. Have you really been that blind? Rose colored glasses masking narcissist behaviors as love? It was all too much for you and it finally clicked. The words, the comments, the shaming in private and acting lovey dovey in public, all of it finally clicked.

Before he could come up with something to say, your intrusive thoughts take over and what you say next will to you finally open your eyes to how toxic your relationship is and free you and completely ruin his world. Finally making eye contact with him you say,

“Let’s break up”