#he's gone that's it and he's up there somewhere beyond the skies or so i would like to think

[saisons-en-enfer]

The passing of my uncle is finally starting to hit really fucking hard

[rise-my-angel]

Heart of the Great Wolf

12 - The Cost of Our Sins

Pairing: Jon Snow x F!Baratheon!Reader (Slow Burn), Robb Stark x F!Baratheon!Reader

Length: 10.2k

Warnings: Angst/hurt comfort, slow burn, traumatic and disturbing imagery, gore, physical abuse, confinement and restraints, reference/allusions to rape, trauma response, torture, suicidal ideation, past character death

Notes: I am so sorry for..well...pretty much everything, cus the horror show does not end at the last chapter strap in because part 3 starts now. Previous Chapter Here, Series Masterlist Here.

Numb is all you felt, a radiating sensation of death that sat through your body still on it’s side. Your eyes could not open, as you felt the pooling of blood in your stomach. The warmth soaked feeling where a son once lay inside you. You had looked into Robb’s eyes as yours faded with him. You had gone together, and now you lay there with the seconds of an awoken mind. Eyes fluttering open was not that of the scene you died, but something worse.

It was fire. Blood and fire all around as you barley could open your eyes long enough to see what your sins had cost you. Was it the Seven, the Old Gods, or the fire god your father had found in that sought to punish you? You lay looking through bars that caged you at the hell before you, it was your punishment for all crimes you had found in. 

The world before this ended you and Robb Stark together and somewhere in this hell your gods decided that you could not reunite until you were given fair just sentence for your sins. Push through this, you thought, let the gods do with you as they wish and they will allow you to return in the veil to him, to him and your son. 

Chanting that in your ears sounded like they were moving underwater, you felt too heavy to lift your head to look. Your body burned and bled still and your muscles could not move but that of your eyes to the blur around you. The chanting grew louder and louder as a group rounded a corner of wherever you were brought too, and it was your husband that they called too. A chanting of King in the North, over and over as you watched his own punishment. The gods were far more cruel then you ever imagined as you watched what they forced you to atone in.

It was Robb, but propped up against something, the black outfit was the very one you recalled your living self, lovingly dressing him in. And the shine in his bright blue eyes as they looked over you with as much love as you had in your heart. But it was soaked in blood as you lay, and not the face of your husband. 

Instead, the sight of The Young Wolf was that as you were The Silent Stag. His head bloodied, but like it had formed into that of a giant direwolf, like he turned into his very companion in Grey Wind as it looked propped on his body. The gods, forcing him to live what he was called and you as your own as you lay in a choking cry unable to find the strength to speak or cry to him through the blood in your mouth. 

His sight was mocked by the demonic creatures you could barley see around him, before the water in your eyes blurred him, before the fading came once more. You accepted the horror that he did not deserve. This was for your sins. 

Let the gods do this, and once more you would wake. In the realms beyond the living, Robb at your side with an arm around you, as you held your son, little Ned. You promised to always be together. 

The gods would punish you, and allow you to be together once more. You and Robb just had to endure this horror, and you would finally be together again. 

That was all you had to do to get back to him. 

Skies were dim as you ventured further into the lands, leaving a drab feeling blanketing over the land that fit the state of mind you lived in. According to the rumblings in the men, you had been in and out of conciseness for almost a fortnight, leaving you to assume that the last of the summer sun had died out and only the dim of autumn remained. Not that you missed the sun, the last time it shined in any way that you could appreciate was so far off you bared not thinking about it. 

Watching the men around you act like normal had made you angry in those first few days you woke up, but now it was all meaningless to try and keep that energy up, you had none left in you really. The small cage off in the distance was your home for a bit, mostly a place you were tossed to wait and see if you would ever wake up, but then once you had? They kept you shoved in there just to keep you from lashing out. 

The first day one of the men had approached you to give you water, only to slide his hand into the bars as your hands were tightly bound. He still wore an ugly dressing over the mark where you bit him, your mouth still stained somewhat with blood from how hard you dug your teeth in. After that, multiple men had to drag you out and hold you down so they could gag you which had stayed on you for the most part, including now. 

But you were too exhausted to fight, your face and skin were constantly flush and hot with sweat as your head grew more fuzzy and dizzy each day. Once it was determined you were indeed alive and not going to bleed out, apparently some kind of infection set in just to make you more pathetic. Currently as camp was made for the night you were granted some freedom. 

The men assigned to watch you noting that you were mostly docile, leaning your head against the iron bars with a distant and dispondant look, to weak to even roll your eyes at their comments. You had been allowed to be let out, and brought to a tree where you now sat tied up against. What a sight you must have been, flush and sweaty, covered in grime to the point it matted in your hair, and still wearing the very dress you had been that night, still soaked in dried blood. 

It was a living nightmare, your dreams flashing in a repeating horror with the strings of music that would forever haunt you, only to awake to the men all finding it in their cold hearts, to sing it outloud. You wondered if they even knew other songs, or if it was just all a sick game to torment you as they dragged you with them. If one more of them sung that Lannister song, you were going to find a way to free your hands just to cut off your own ears. 

Perhaps it was the fever in your head, but you had no sense of what to feel anymore. It was so twisted all wrong, and you had not the heart to find it’s truth in front of all these people. Not them, not after what they’ve done. 

Your eyes flickered up in a painful glare as footsteps approached, and the figure kneeling in front of you raised an eyebrow at your state. “Now, my lady, if I take this off are you going to behave, or will you need a refresher?” His hand pointing to your eye. Right, that must be just adding to your state, likely bruised by this point when he had hit you hard across the face after you kicked away the food he brought you. 

You wanted nothing from Roose Bolton, but he insisted on finding ways to keep you alive. A true mockery that felt now. Your stomach burned where the slices refused to heal or fade. You looked off to the side dejectedly, and he took that was an answer. 

Pulling the fabric down from between your teeth you bit your tongue and continued to not look in his direction. “It’s been almost a fortnight since you’ve eaten, and days since you’ve had any water. If I’m going to keep you alive, we’re going to have to fix that problem.” 

“Then don’t keep me alive. Wouldn’t be the first time.” You barley recognized your voice, it was hoarse and so rough that your throat screamed at you to douse it in water and smooth it down with honey to ease the pain. Tearing your eyes back up to him as your head lulled to rest back against the bark you raised your eyebrows at him in challenge. 

His ability to keep calm in any situation no longer was a point of impressive resolve, but an angering fester in your stomach at his lack of humanity. “It was not a matter of personal affairs, just politics, my lady.” 

Your breath cracked out a single laugh that almost made you cough. “Where is the utility in keeping me alive, when you sure tried your best to do the opposite?” You couldn’t ignore the burning inside of you, it was as if you’d pull your dress up and see a blackness toxifying around what was left. 

“This is neither the time nor place to discuss such matters. Not in your fragile state.” Huffing another cracked laughter you asked him what he even wanted. “Right now I want to ensure I can get myself, my men, and even you into the Dreadfort in one piece. When we arrive I will have our maester treat you, then we can speak more.” 

You felt dizzy even just sitting up against a tree like this, the air was obviously getting colder judging by the state of dress going around but you neither were covered in anyway to help, nor did you really feel it. It was as if you were in the dark swampiness of the Crannogmen lands but instead of a misty air it was humid and sweltering like a Dornish sun. All you could muster was a huff. 

Leaning forward with a skin of something, he opened the cap and took a sip before holding it up with an expectant look. “It will be far easier to get us past the Ironborn if I have you on a horse instead of dragging you around in a cage. But I need to know you will cooperate if I do. I’ll even keep let you stay ungagged.”  

Leaning forward with the skin once more before he was uncomfortably close to your face, “I wouldn’t test me further, my lady. The only thing keeping these men from raping you every night is my order, and I’m quite sure in this state you wouldn’t survive as many as have talked about it. So either it’s me, or I leave you now to the mercy of my men.”

There was no place in arguing, you had nothing to fight back with. Jaw clenched as you fought back the angry pounding in your heart, you nodded. Roose seemingly satisfied enough that he gently placed the skin to your mouth. The water down your throat felt so soothing that it made your insides wish to cry, but you had no energy for it. So you let him give you the water, and come morning maybe you would feel less like a floating bundle of delusions. 

He left you alone after that, but just as he said none came over to you. You think there were groups that had their eyes on you, but it was difficult to see. In the dark, the blurriness of your vision only let you see what was in front of your face and everything else was blurs of shapes and fire. 

Late into the night, you fell asleep once more. The only thing which came to you, was the sight of Roose plunging the knife he struck you with into the chest of Robb and the strings of music that had played only seconds before it all. That’s all you saw anymore, and you couldn’t remember if you ever dreamed in any way before that night, all you saw and heard was those two things again and again. 

One man, dark eyes with a creeping look that would once have made you on edge was the one who fetched you come morning. He spoke some, expected nothing in return. Pointing a knife at your unresponsive face as he threw out, “You run or hit me, and I’ll knock that pretty face around enough to leave a mark that’ll stay ugly. Got it?” Merely untying you did nothing, since your hands were still bound tight enough to keep you from struggling them from behind. 

Yanking you up to your feet he walked you though the camp to where the horses were stood ready to go. Another man next to what seemed to be his, smirked as he nodded to you like a silent object. “Know it’s been a rough few years when even this one looks good ‘nuff to make a man jealous.” 

Knocking him in the arm, he moved with him to hoist you up onto the horse, your vision spinning drastically at the movement with no way to steady yourself. The first dark eyed man, Locke, climbed up behind you, taking your bound hands into his grip and yanking you back to hiss in your ear. “Be smart now, lass. There’s nothing round us but Ironborn and best bet no one’s gonna protect your honour once you’re alone with them. You gonna be a smart girl?” Nodding with a clenched jaw, he hummed satisfied. 

Shoving you off of him before the rest of the men all begun to take off. They’d have to take the day to sneak past the bordered scouts and by then, if they pushed hard they could make it to the Dreadfort by next daybreak. You couldn’t possibly wonder what awaited you there, but at the minimum, threat of death was far from any worry in your mind. 

Waking up for good had felt like a new kind of death, a confusion that tore you up and threatened to swallow you whole. Making no sense at first, you had died you knew it. Or, you thought you did. Not a thing had felt like the way you were fading and yet you were here now. You dared not think of the memory of fire and chanting you were so sure as a deathly torment of the gods. If you thought of that, you might bringing up the only thing in your stomach, of water and bile and you refused to look at yourself in anyway. The red staining your dress was there until the mercy of new clothes might be granted if ever. 

You had no right to be here, you had promised him. You and Robb promised the other that it would be until your last day, together. Not one without the other, you found your fate dying beside him but yet you were alive and the memories of him would paint before your mind like cries in the night. 

Something was quite wrong inside you, but you felt like there wasn’t enough awareness in you to see what it was or what was missing. All you knew is that you were trapped in this memory of that night, and you couldn’t see a single thing in the world around you except that and here. 

If there was a world and people that existed besides this nightmare, you could not find them. 

“So you admit you murdered Qhorin Halfhand?” 

Standing in the main hall before three men, having found nothing right when Jon awoke. Lord Commander Mormont as Sam said, dead. Murdered in a mutiny, and leaving him to hope that he learned enough from the Old Bear to get through to the rest. 

Jon saw nothing but conflict in his actions, and as he stood there now it was clear that it didn’t matter what they thought of him, it mattered that he make them understand what no one else seemed to truly get. Neither side got it, it seemed. “I didn’t murder him.” 

Ser Alliser Thorne looked him down with the same contempt he always had, and if he had his way without question he would’ve ended Jon then and there the second he rode through the gates. “No? You put your sword through a brother of the Night’s Watch. What do you call that?” 

“He wanted me to kill him.” 

Lord Janos Slynt sat to the left, leaning partially across the table with the same puffy and slime filled smugness he always held. Full of respect for none but his own reputation, and yet he was here down in the icy ends of the world like the rest of them. “The bastard son of a traitor. What would you expect?” 

The man was lucky Jon wasn’t as young and brash as he was in his first months here. He tried putting a knife through Ser Alliser in a rage for a similar comment once upon a time. Instead, he kept his composure and attention on the later man and Maester Aemon listening intently to his right. “The Halfhand believed our only chance to stop Mance was to get a man inside his army.” 

Ser Alliser interrupting with a gritted roughness that Jon could sympathize with. “Don’t talk about the Halfhand as if you knew him. He was my brother.”

They were all brothers now, even you, Jon thought. Ser Alliser certainly wasn’t a fan of Jon, nor he in return but he knew losing a brother wasn’t easy and it certainly didn’t make Jon feel like he was doing the right thing when he killed him. He agreed with the man himself to do it, and he agreed with why, but he still put his sword through the Halfhand. His first true kill and that would forever be a bloodstain on his hands. “Then you’d know he’d do anything to defend the Wall. The free folk would have boiled him alive, but letting me kill him-”

Slynt had the gall to laugh, like there was anything in Jon’s entire existence anymore that even could give the slightest bit of amusement. “The free folk? Listen to him, he even talks like a wildling now.” 

The rage for a minute spilled out of his mouth as Jon raised his voice to him, “Aye, I talk like a wildling. I ate with the wildlings, I climbed the wall with the wildlings, I-” There was that wave again. One that made him feel uncomfortable and bordering on a guilty kind of dirty that he couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard. It was there and they would all only see one thing, but it didn’t feel anything the way they were going to. 

Then Jon thought of you, and it just made it all the worse. But he had to be honest in some regards, he wasn’t going to get through to these men by lying. He had to just say it the only way any would care or believe him with. “I laid with a wildling girl.” 

“You admit to breaking your vows, then?” 

If that’s what they were going to focus on, what would it even take to convince them to take him seriously on anything else. He did break his vows, but not willingly, and not with the only person who deserved to have them broken for. 

Janos Slynt continued his petty tirade that Jon was growing increasingly annoyed with. “The law is law, the boy must die.” And what law did you break to get here, my lord? What had you done to find yourself from City Watch Commander to the Night’s Watch, what mercy were you shown to not die for your crimes, Jon thought. 

Maester Aemon however, seemed to care not for where they saw fit to debate Jon on. “If we beheaded every ranger who lay with a girl, the Wall would be manned by headless men.” 

Ser Alliser trying to argue, “There’s a difference between sneaking off to the Mole’s Town brothel and sleeping with the enemy.” Somehow Jon knew that telling him the only alternative was death, wouldn’t exactly give him any more leniency, but he like Aemon, had no time for this. 

“Aye, there is a difference. Sneaking out to a brothel doesn’t give you detailed information about their enemy plans and numbers. And while we sit here debating which rules I broke, Mance Rayder marches on the wall with an army of a hundred thousand.” 

They tried to protest that was impossible, but he’d seen it. He had walked through that camp and felt nothing but a building dread for what was to come of any of this. “He’s united the Thenns, the Hornfoots, the Ice-River Clans. He has giants fighting for him.” 

The degree to which Jon was getting fed up with Janos Slynt was immeasurable. The man laughed while looking at the other two who didn’t find anything funny about it. “Giants?” 

Jaw tight, he looked to the waste of air with a barley held back lack of respect on his face. “Have you ever been beyond the Wall, ser?” 

There was that huff of pride in his face once more. “I commanded the City Watch of King’s Landing, boy.” 

“And now you’re here. You must not have been very good at your job.” Jon would have no way of knowing it, but another voice with serious eyes and a dismissive snark echoed in Janos Slynt’s ears. 

The voice of a woman who he had no reasonable way of knowing meant a single thing to dark curly haired man in front of them. The girl had spent many of her days on the council questioning his capabilities, and insulting him all the same as this one. But Jon ignored his outrage as she always would.

“There’s a band of wildlings south of the Wall already led by Tormund Giantsbane. I killed their warg and three others, they shot me full of arrows. Their orders are to attack Castle Black from the south while Mance hits it from the north. Their signal for the attack will be a bonfire, Mance said it would be the greatest fire the North has ever seen. That’s the truth. All the truth.” 

They didn’t execute him, or at least not that day Jon thought to himself. As he slept that night though, he still saw you dying on the floor in your own blood. Sam had tried asking him about the girl, about Ygritte. Especially since he now had Gilly in his life but Jon knew there was no comparing. From what he could tell, Gilly had more of a strange sheltered life then any of them, and she was nothing like the aggressive and hypocritical anger of the wildling girl Jon had travelled with. 

But he didn’t want to talk about Ygritte, he didn’t want to talk about having to send his only protection in Ghost away just to save his cover from that of death. Didn’t want to talk about what he was forced to do and how he tricked himself into thinking it was all fine just to cope with it. 

Only a few times did Sam try to gently bring up the other, but Jon shot it down every single time. He already felt pain and anger about it, about Robb. Jon certainly didn’t want to talk about you. Not now. Maybe not ever. 

Jon had a job to do, and he was haunted enough in his dreams of your death to have Sam try and comfort him about it. Besides, he didn’t even have Ghost now. He hadn’t seen him since sending him off and all he could remember in his waking hours, was the two of you sitting in front of the Weirwood. Ghost still tiny curled up in your lap as you sat in his arms. 

He was losing everything it seemed, but he’d be damned if he lost this place, the only thing that served from the gods to provide Jon with any kind of purpose. In this coming war, or the one foreboding against them in the distant colds of the far North. 

The Dreadfort was a befitting name you supposed. It stood tall in what looked like the middle of nowhere, cleared land all around the high walls, that build up on the inside to the highest fort in the dead centre with edges at the top looking like sharp, imposing teeth. As your eyes drifted along it, a woozy feeling came over you from the last push to get into the lands past the remaining Ironborn. Gates opening, the court was as drab and deary as the rest of it and yet the people all scattered around were normal. 

Roose Bolton climbed from his horse first to greet a figure awaiting in the distance, and introducing his new wife. Walda was a bit younger then you, and certainly held more life in her eyes and face then you did. A brightness as she was brought into the castle where you were pulled off the front of the horse by two men. 

Turning from the other man, Roose looked to them with orders, “Put her in a cell, and have Maester Wolkan look her over.” You hardly had a chance to see or hear anything else as you were dragged into a deeper part of the structure. The cells in your vision were along a single wall and quite small as the only light was a small set of torches lit along wall corners. 

None said a word to you, but you went willingly as they opened the doors. Cutting your hands free behind your back before tossing you in and closing behind you. The echos of their feet fading off until it was the flickering of the flames left alone with you. 

Wincing as you dragged yourself up with palms braced on the ragged ground before finding a resting spot against the wall and side of the cell. Resting your head along the bars you couldn’t figure out what it was you were feeling. Your body held an ache all over where some places burned like a festering would alight. 

Eyes barley focusing on the wall beyond your cell, they wanted to let tears fall freely but you simply had nothing left in you. The shock of waking up had passed by this point, and now all that was left was the murky depths left behind and only one thing at a time could come to the surface for air. You could still hear the strings playing, the hall filling with music that had you, nor anyone, suspect a thing until it was already over. 

You hardly thought any other music existed, it looped in your mind as did the damning stop of it as the instruments blurred to weapons. Perhaps it was your doom to sit reliving such a moment and yet you found nothing in you to say Roose Bolton took you just to let you rot. 

He had tried to kill you, and you had even lay there beside Robb thinking he had succeeded until..the wall torch fire before you flashed to another fire, and that turned to yells and chanting and in a split second you flew a hand to to grasp tightly at one of the bars as your lungs gave out. You told yourself not to think about it, you said you would never look back to that sight-

A door opening had you slam your eyes shut, breathing so harshly out that you felt the dizziness spin around you. Your hand still gripped the bar so tightly though that it strained your hand into a cramp as you willed your panic to swallow. “My lady,” 

Slowly you opened them, trying to stay still as you glanced up and to the side where a man you didn’t recognize stood. Two guards behind him, but you did note the chains across his robes before sighing and turning away. 

The guards entered behind him to stand at attention as he came towards you. “My lady, I am Maester Wolkan, I am here to see how your health is faring.” He knelt down in front of you as you huffed out a painful spit of air as it trying to fake a laugh. “I understand you have been through a lot, if you would allow me?” 

Rolling your head to the side so he could see your still discoloured eye, he tilted your head back and forth to see the other cuts along you. “How long have you had this fever?” You didn’t answer, you didn’t even know. It had been days since you woken up, and it’s felt both like years of pain have passed through you and only seconds since losing everything of your life. 

Wolkan lightly soaked a cloth in a small basin of water before dabbing it across your forehead, the coolness of it making you hiss towards the feeling against your burning skin. Taking it upon himself, he washed away some of the blood and grime on your face as the water left a cool sheen on it.

“Can you stand on your own?” Your eyes narrowed in confusion before remembering he was there to look at your wounds, when truthfully you didn’t see the point. Nodding, you hissed in lifting yourself up, letting him look over your arm, pulling apart the torn fabric near your shoulder to look at the deep unhealed scar inside of it. “Any pain or difficulties moving this arm at all?” 

You shook your head no, passing your notice, that it made him pause, looking at you almost puzzled for just a moment. He must have been told some of the wounds, as gently asked you, “I will have to undo the laces against your back to check the one there.” You didn’t react, just looked to the nothing on the dark walls as he looked where you pushed away the memory of an arrow. Not the one which hit you, no, the ones that-

“This might seem a droll indecent, but I was informed you had received a significant injury on your stomach and I will need to take a look at it.” You were stuck at the arrows, not thinking of anything else after reliving the seconds as they hit him, and your eyes finding a watering that luckily was hard to see in this light. 

The man had to gently pull up the skirt of your dress, trying carefully not to peel it on the sensitive skin as he revealed what you had no bravery to look at. But by not looking at it, you also missed the shocked, almost dreadfully fearful astonishment in Wolkan’s face. “My lady how did-” 

“Ask your lord, he will know better.” 

The finality in your tone ended that line of thought in his head, but his eyes were so focused on the wounds that you begun to shake from the lack of energy. Dropping it back down he gently grabbed your upper arms, “Here, you can sit once more.” 

It took some time for him to come to an assessment, packing up some of his things. “I fear you have an infection, my lady. The lack of food and water likely making it overstay it’s place for much longer, I will have simple water and broth sent down to you for the next while. As well as a potion that will help speed the process.” Glancing down to your stomach and then your dulled eyes he paused, “It is the-”

“I don’t want to to hear it, just send me what I need to take and I’ll take it. Now if we are finished Maester, I’d like to be left alone to rot in the quiet.” Watching you for a few significant moments, he respected your wish and made his way to leave. 

Normally he would inform you the degree which it would make you ill before getting better, but he had the feeling you had very little care on such a side effect. Such a state you were in, how bloodied and unwell you were as Lord Bolton dragged you across much of the North, and then was the wounds on her stomach..as far as Wolkan in all his knowledge could tell anyone, there shouldn’t have been a soul who could have survived that. 

It hadn’t healed, but it was as if it was to stay open and deep without having any impact on the skin around it. It was a gruesome, violent, jagged series of scars all connected together, and yet it was as if they existed separate of your body.

In the main hall, the Greyjoy in Ramsay Snow’s care looked as unwell and ragged as the lady in the cells, but subservient to the point it made many uncomfortable. “If Bran and Rickon are alive, the country will rally to their side now that Robb Stark is gone.” 

Theon pausing in his actions shaving the younger man, a horror in his eyes that was desperate to be pushed back down before it swallowed him whole. Ramsay with no genuinity in his sorrowful tone. “Oh that’s right, Reek. Robb Stark is dead.” 

Roose Bolton notably said nothing to stop his sons torment of Theon. Turning to Locke instead he gave the man an offer, “Find those boys and I’ll give you a thousand acres and a holdfast.”  

Locke asking on any ideas where to start, and the beginnings of a true mistake unknowingly spilling from Roose’s mouth in instruction. “Jon Snow is at Castle Black. Their bastard brother, he could be sheltering them, he may know where they are. Even if he doesn’t he’s half Stark himself which means he could prove to be a threat. Especially if he learns of our most recent prisoner,” Pausing as he looked to Ramsey with something that Theon couldn’t yet grasp, how could he? He didn’t know any of who else they were keeping here besides himself.

Looking back to Locke, Roose was specific with your name on his lips that way too quickly made Theon swallow harshly, “Make sure no mention of her presence here gets out. Jon Snow was close with the girl, and she is his brothers widow. If he isn’t hiding the boys, he may still learn that she’s being kept here. And I don’t care to have him bringing a fight to our doorstep to get her back.” 

His instructions included killing you, that much was made clear from Tywin Lannister but apparently you were a frustrating little fighter. It was a surprise to find later in the night, you were still alive. He had come up as the blood was all still fresh, knocked you with his foot onto your back and you were as dead as every other corpse in the hall. You and Robb both pale, blood had spilled out and stopped, and not a pulse to be felt as both your eyes sat wide, colourless, and defeated. There was no question about it.

Until later when he had returned. Ensuring the giant direwolf had been taken care of, walking back in before the Freys and his men could do whatever with the bodies they wished. But as he approached the King and Queen, and with no one in the hall to have done so, suddenly, your eyes had been closed. And you had the faintest of pulses he’d ever felt, but it was there. He was sure he watched you die himself, but now you sat in his dungeon as a plan begun to formulate in his mind. 

Time was difficult for you to gauge, but far longer had begun to pass then you realized, weeks and months that felt like seconds or years. In that time, Roose building the steps to a proper claim, and promised his bastard son, that if he could prove himself and retake Moat Cailin, then he would reconsider his position. Afterall, if you were alive anyways, you were of no use to Roose in the hands of his bastard, but in the hands of a legitimate heir? Perhaps the gods left you alive for a reason. 

Roose just had to make sure that the half Stark at Castle Black heard no word of you being alive. Too many people underestimated Robb Stark for too long, and the same mistake would not be made twice, not for his brother. Ramsay has his own way of things, but Roose Bolton did not want to be the one to underestimate Jon Snow.  

Gods, how much time had even passed? You felt in a daze that never ended, even worse then before. A servant for the Maester brought down a vile smelling potion which tasted even worse. Since you had kept nothing down. The broth and water seems to be your only diet to make having it come right back up less disgusting. 

You were dripping in sweat, your head running so hot you wondered if the fire of the torch would even burn you. Sometime in the hours, or days that had passed you would see things your mind told you to not believe. Some of it you knew, most of it felt like a life that was beyond understanding. 

Laying in bed, there was rain pouring out the high windows that blended with the river in the distance, the light of the moon dripping you in shades of blue matching his bright eyes as you lay bare on your side into the equally as bare chest of another. His hand drifting across your stomach so gently in touch as you nuzzled into their neck. The feeling of his curls dancing around your cheek before the strings begun.  

The begun and as they played you opened your eyes in the same position as his hand raised now soaked in blood. Looking to you his blue eyes were in a terrified horror before you could see them go out all the same. Only as you lay there on your side, feeling the blood rushing from your stomach like it was to never end, did the room twist and turn to a red.

Red tones and fire all around as a voice in a foreign accent spoke in your ear. Their red hair hanging low as she spoke and if you had the strength to turn you could see the tight red ruby choked around her neck as she spoke. “Your Great Wolf to stand with you and your children together.”

You wanted to turn and lash out, scream that he was dead and so was the child in your womb but all that happened was blood rushing now from your mouth too. Too much blood that you begun to choke on it as you turned to her the red ruby trailing up until a pair of eyes met yours. Eyes of blue that sat on the head of a wolf it did not belong with, only as the faint chanting begun did your eyes snap open.

Turning to the corner behind you did you violently cough up nothing but water and bitter bile that scraped at your throat. One hand pressed against the wall and the other braced on the floor as you brought up what was hardly even there. Your throat burned as your stomach did, the servant who was bringing it down for you to drink would tell you it is to cleanse your system of the rot and it only felt like it spread violently. 

No sense of night or day, you hardly even had enough resolve to pay attention to the schedule of the guards. The servant of the Maester seemed kind, but he was a young boy who didn’t know any better you suspected. No one else spoke to you, or much looked at you. 

As you heaved to catch your breathe in between the pressure on your chest as you spit up more bile, you wondered if it mattered anymore. If none of them knew who you were, it would not matter what happened to you you maybe life would be easier if you just died on them. 

It would be easier for you as well. But there was nothing for such a thing in the cell. Just dirt, and your own fluids that mixed horribly. If any were to find you now, they’d easily mistaken you for a filthy craven, and you felt like one. 

You barley heard the footstep over the heaves of your breathe until they were speaking to you right outside the bars. “Oh my word,” Gasping you flung yourself back, almost pressing up against the wall with fright. You barley could recognize the fellow kneeling down looking at you, but you think perhaps he was in the courtyard when greeting Roose. 

Hair dark to an almost black and laid flat across his forehead with eeiry pale blue eyes that were wide as they looked at you. You said nothing, untrusting of any face that looked at you in such a place. Looking you over, he sighed to himself. “I heard we had a guest, but such a shame to find you in a state such as this, my lady.” 

Straightening your back, you dragged your knees up to your chest, as you narrowed your eyes. He simply shrugged to himself before holding a hand out through the bars, seeing you not move an inch as he grimaced and pulled back even slower. “Not a woman for formalities, I can understand that. Especially in a state such as this,” whistling out he looked you over in a way you could only describe as making you feel even dirtier then you were. “Why they didn’t even bother offering you new clothes, you’re stuck in the same bloody ones as you arrived. That will not do, a lady should at least have a pretty dress to go with such a pretty face.” 

“What do you want?”

He reacted none to the bluntness, your voice scratched badly like claw marks scraped down your throat. “Well I would be remiss if I didn’t pay the late Queen in the North a visit.” You bit your tongue to the point it threatened to bleed, it was a mockery. Is that what you were supposed to see yourself as anymore, here thrown away in the dungeons to waste in the home of the very man who murdered your king? “Oh, I’m so sorry. Sensitive subject, I know.”

His voice was so exaggerated in his inauthenticity, you bought not a word and you thought you likely weren’t supposed to. “If you’ve come down here to mock me, fair not. Bolton’s men have seen fit to do that the entire journey, I am not with a lack of torment.” 

It felt so unnerving, his eyes. The way they lingered on you in ways you couldn’t immediately detect the intention of and a glint behind them that terrified you beyond what anything you’d see. But you were lucky, you were too faded inside to show it as he spoke once more. “You wound me, my lady. We’re in the North you see, we supported our King in the North and his Queen. But, I suppose if he’s good and dead that doesn’t really make you one anymore does it?” 

You didn’t care if you were a queen, you cared that you were Robb’s wife and now you broke your promise to stay together. You swore a vow in love and now you sat with his blood in your mouth and son dead from your womb. “Then again, you are still a Baratheon, does that make you a princess now? No, that doesn’t seem quite right either does it. A girl like you doesn’t scream princess.” 

Finding the strength to turn away from him, you looked at the nothing of the dark wall. Your name quiet on your lips. “That’s all I am I suppose.” 

“I seem to have you at a disadvantage, I know your name my lady but you don’t know mine do you? You’ve likely heard of me, most call me Ramsay, others call me Roose Bolton’s bastard son.” Your back chilled as you shivered, despite the sweat and the heat in your mind. So his family is all in on it, that was just what you needed to hear. 

Turning your head to face him as it leaned against the wall, you raised an eyebrow dully. “Did you want something, or can I die in peace?” 

He tsked as he stood up. “Now my lady, you can’t die. We haven’t spent nearly enough time together for me to be sick of you. I came to tell you, once you’re better, I can find you a nice room, a hot bath and we’ll see about any nice, pretty dresses we can get for you.” 

Clearly, he did not care if you bought into him. It didn’t matter if you left this cell or not, you couldn’t see past the blood and the fog in your head marred by the strings of music. He only took a few steps away before spinning back to you in a dramatic fashion. 

“How silly of me, I did come here with a present actually. You see, I have a little task I have to leave for, and I just couldn’t bear the thought if something happened to him and you didn’t get a chance to meet each other. My own servant, a very special boy I’ve whipped him up to be.” You narrowed your eyes as you felt your limbs weigh too much, you’d have passed out from exhaustion were he still not insisting on talking. 

“If he does a good job while we’re away, I may just start lending him to you once we get you back on your feet. I’m sure he will be the perfect company. Reek, come say hello.” If you had anything left to bring back up to the surface of the world, you would have. 

Instead you lost all breathe, head spinning as you found the appearance of this so called present. Much like you, marred in grime and dirt and sickly appearance to their skin that matched with the matted hair grown out. As if their entire existence was in a detrimental fear, you felt a weight in your throat that kept you from any words. 

Dark eyes that refused to look at a thing slowly drifted upwards until they met the agony of yours and your heart pounded until it flattened to nothing and left you woozy. There was a recognition in his eyes that you were to delusional and feverish to understand. 

Something that in Ramsay’s delight of torment, did not see. A pain of who he was looking at and what state they both had ended up in, alone in the world trapped within the confines of the family of flayers and torturers. “Now Reek, it’s not polite to stare. I’m sure the lady isn’t quite ready so soon after her husbands tragic death, besides not like you have the ability to do anything about it.” 

He shook and you narrowed your eyes in confusion with a tilt of your head, you felt the need to vomit once more as the potion swam through your stomach like it had for days now. Leaving you once more, Ramsay had to pull him away when he took half a second too long to part from your eyes. The dungeons fell quiet and dark once more and your mind only had enough time to feel even more confused until your stomach forced more burning up. 

“And Theon? I want him brought to me alive. I want to look him in the eye and ask him why. Then I’ll take his head myself.” 

Collapsing to the ground with a cry of pain, you curled up with your knees back against your chest. The hurt and betrayal on his face that day, the way only you seemed to give him any peace as you both stood unified in what he commanded. But this was no longer such a day, such a time. 

The blue eyes you wanted to see were darker then those pale ones, and with an adoration you wanted to scream at. Robb didn’t want this for you, Theon. Neither of us did, you thought. You demanded justice at Robb’s side, but this was not justice. 

If what you were holding back cries of pain for was not justice, you couldn’t imagine what found it’s way into his terror to make Theon Greyjoy look as frail and petrified as you felt. 

He was fighting to call himself one or the other. Reek was screeching in his head that he would be punished for this, but Theon kept climbing the stairs anyways. It was quite late, and he was already under orders to bring you a meal but he was not given orders to speak to you. So why was he walking down and fighting to not do so?

Walk in, open the gate, sit the food down and return like Reek was ordered to do, but as he stood outside the cell door, it was like for a moment Theon screamed at him and sent Reek down past his consciousness. Voice stammering and weak did he mutter your name, he did it twice and maybe if he had to do it a third he would chicken out and leave. But you looked. 

Sat against the wall with your knees to your chest, arms wrapped around them and your head tucked in the middle, you rose up and it was clear as day the tears. Theon wasn’t sure he’s ever seen you cry. Very few would have and you were good at keeping it to yourself, but then again, Theon was good at many things Reek was not. 

Placing a small vial on the ground before moving to sit the tray beside you. He couldn’t even stammer out the words before you huffed out another tearful cry and kicked the tray from you. Sending him back in a jump. The way you looked up at him, who even were you on the inside? Did you not see yourself anymore as Theon saw Reek in his reflection? Had you even seen the state of yourself, eyes dulled to a weakness you’d never shown, eye still discoloured from where someone must have hit you and a flush to your skin that he knew came from having nothing in your system. 

What happened? How did it happen? How did Robb- 

He breathed out heavily as he snapped his head to attention. It poured out before he could stop himself from saying it. “I was wrong. I- I took Winterfell and I was wrong…” You said nothing. Your lips parted but closed once more with a heavy swallow. “I…” 

“Theon,” your voice was so quiet. Somewhere in his mind, he recalled the people called you the Silent Stag, always quiet you were but just as notable. But this quiet wasn’t that, this was a whisper that worried it was too loud even in the stone of a dungeon. “I..we didn’t- it’s my fault.” You inhaled deeply, eyes fluttering shut for the action before opening them with a calmer look that refused to look at him. 

“I didn’t know they’d do this..any of this..and we sent them. I’m sorry.” 

Both inside him struggled how to feel, Reek had nothing to accept an apology for and yet Theon knelt forward to the ground. Crouching he slowly opened the vial with a shaky breathe before holding it to you. He wanted to speak and you could see it but neither pushed until he whispered it out like a deathly vow being broken as you drunk the liquid. “I didn’t kill them. Bran and Rickon. I didn’t kill them, I lied.” 

Your lips fell open as neither of you looked anywhere but between your bodies on the floor. “Roose Bolton killed Robb. Shoved a knife in his heart, and a few times in me.” Likely you didn’t know why you showed him, or even told him, but Theon’s breathing quickened as you lifted the fabric. The skin underneath was utterly blood soaked in ways he’d only ever seen on those of the dead. But why were they on you if you were here? “If that isn’t vengeance..”

Theon wanted to stay and talk, but Reek heard the sounds of footsteps far in the distance and tore himself back. “I-” He didn’t look you in the eye, he couldn’t at this point. “I’ll come back.” 

Your voice was far away, your eyes had lulled shut back into a dream of stringed nightmares as you muttered, “Of course you will. He’ll order you too.” 

Your nails were bloody, but you think it was starting to carve properly. The nothing drawing in the wall that kept you occupied for most of the day now. It was silent for a while once you were better, guards came to bring you a meal and then it was back into the quiet. There was no outside world here, no wars once fought, no lives trying to find peace, nothing. Just the walls of your cell, and the carving you were scraping into the stone wall. 

No sense of time came to you, it could have been years and you would be none the wiser of anything. Another war could have come and passed, not an inkling would’ve found you. You only saw the guards and the dungeon. You only dreamt of the blood and the strings as you awoke everytime knowing you failed him. 

Every attempt to come out into your soul was hollow, something was missing and it was part of what made you human. You could only see the curls against blue eyes that looked to you desperate not to see you go. It broke your heart everytime you saw him. 

The horror in your heart was settled somewhat in those final seconds, you would go together as you promised. From this day until our last day. And yet his last day was not yours, and you lived on without him. Guilt and shame ate away at you for breaking your vow to always be together, wherever his soul sat with the gods now you wondered if Robb was ashamed of you. 

You lived on without him, and you lost his unborn son. There was nothing left of Robb Stark with you anymore and the only proof he ever was, was a scar running so jaggedly along your lower stomach that you could feel each time Roose stabbed it back inside you. Tracing it gently enough with your fingers. A terrible stroke of luck, or was it the gods forcing it onto you?

Because the longer you sat in that silence alone, the more you came up with ways to fix it. What reason were you to still be here, why were you still alive if your existence was less then a rats. It wouldn’t be easy in here, but you could do it if you were really desperate. You wanted to the more weeks passed into months as you were alone down here. Shut away from the world, a dead wife to the King in the North, sequestered down in a dingy cell in the Dreadfort. Captive of the family who did this to you, and nothing to do but think of how much Robb would hate what you’ve become. 

This shell was not the woman he fell in love with, and you weren’t entirely sure you could even get that woman back now. Maybe part of you really did die beside him, and what remains in your body now is just the base of grief and anger that will burn through you until you’ve had enough. 

The gods were cruel however. The day he came to see you, it was the understanding of why they bothered to keep you alive. A confident man, Roose Bolton walked up to your cell with the same collected look he has had since the day you met him. Glancing around the cell, he could see you made very little use of the space, as if always having to be positioned against the bars to see the opening of the main door.

“I assume by now you realize no one is coming for you.” Your eyes glared up at him in a silent contemptuous irritation. “The Seven Kingdoms all think you’re dead. Tragically killed at the side of your husband-”

“They know you’re the one who put a knife to him? Or have you let Walder Frey take all of the credit for that?” Roose raised an eyebrow at you, unexpected of the sharp and angry tone that came from an otherwise unwell prisoner. “Suppose it isn’t really you who the southerners care about anyways. You get to claim you killed an unarmed King, and his pregnant wife when you only did it because you had Tywin Lannister to hide behind the skirts of.” 

Stepping forward to you, he looked down with ease as you craned your neck up to find his own, the anger in your voice did not match your eyes. “It is encouraging see you have put your time down here to good use. I kill Robb Stark and yourself, and in return I am given the title Warden of the North until the son of Sansa and Tyrion Lannister comes of age to take over. Unfortunately, there has been a problem in his planning.” 

You twisted your face at the unpleasant imagery.

“Sansa has fled King’s Landing after the murder of King Joffery, and her imp husband is to go on trial.” A year ago you would have been thrilled at the news that your repulsive once cousin was dead, now though it was a non victory that felt hollow. The world indeed kept turning outside the walls and you were none the wiser of a single tinge of it. “Sansa’s son by Tyrion was intended to be the key to the North for the Lannisters as they have no other ties, now there is no child to inherit the North from me.” 

Biting your tongue, you exhaled harshly through your nose to will the angry beating of your heart down to something manageable. “Did you come here to gloat about your new title or did you just want to remind me of what you’ve done.” 

“My men are reclaiming what’s left of the Ironborn that stands in the road to Winterfell, and we will soon move there once my son has cleared the way. You will be coming with us. Willingly.” 

Your voice scratched as you huffed a laugh, “And do tell, my lord. Why would I ever go with you willingly?” You watched as he knelt in front of you, and the frustration in your voice did not match how you pressed yourself against the wall further. 

With every inch of your body you hated the quiet calm in his voice as he nodded to your attire. “Because if you do, I will make sure you are cleaned, properly fed, groom you up and dress you like a lady and not like that creature my son drags around. You won’t be able to leave the castle walls, or go anywhere outside without being under guard. But I won’t throw you back into a cell.” 

Not a thought came to you that imagined yourself like that anymore. Your life was drenched in blood and memories of pain that blurred out the rest in it’s grief. Would you feel more like a person to even just breathe fresh air? Was that worth playing along with the man who betrayed his people and murdered your king and child? 

Roose did not wait for any kind of response, moving towards the cell door when you asked, “Why? If I’m just a prisoner why bring me to Winterfell? No one even knows I’m alive, what would it matter if you keep me locked away in here?”

The blood inside you cooled to a freeze as you looked wide eyed with a hesitant fear that you know he caught onto. “If Ramsay is successful in retaking Moat Cailin, he will be granted a legitimate son and become a Bolton. The Lannisters won’t help me keep the North, but perhaps I don’t need them to. All the Stark men are dead, which means if Ramsay is a Bolton, he will be my firstborn son and heir. And he will be needing one of his own.” 

Roose didn’t elaborate but he didn’t need to. You almost begun to bite your tongue so hard on unknowing it could have bled. You felt sick as you had days ago, but this was an illness rooted in a fear and bloody memories of your last. “You truly think I would ever let him-” 

One eyebrow raised, his voice was patronizing as it was condescending. “Do you think you have any choice in the matter? Shall I reminder you how it is the world works?” 

You glared up with as much energy as you could summon, a sneer on your own face as you sharply bit back, “Do use small words, my lord. I’m not as bright as you.” 

You didn’t expect it to even effect him in the slightest. He rarely budged on anything, especially now when it is was he holds all the power. “You are a highborn lady, and if my son should succeed he will be a legitimate highborn to inherit my own lordship. You are also my prisoner, and I don’t think I need to remind you of my own stance on prisoner treatment. Ramsay doesn’t need your permission to use you to produce an heir.”

Do not show anything else you told yourself, do not let him see the fear in your heart. “I’m not a Northerner, Lord Bolton. I have no claim that could help you.” 

A lightness in his eyes was the most genuine you had seen in since that night and you felt even more ill thinking on it. “No, but you were the Queen that Robb Stark chose, you were the Queen every Northern chose, my lady. That is claim enough for what we require.” 

By the time you found any bravery left in your voice you called out to him before he could leave you alone in the darkness of the dungeon once more. “Did you ever believe in him? Or was it all just a lie the entire time? You served him for almost three years, was none of it ever true?” 

Roose sounded as if he was giving a simple order to a servant, no care for his monstrosity. “I believed in Robb Stark right up until I shoved my dagger covered in your blood into his chest. But loyalty does not buy me money or power, and Tywin Lannister simply had the better offer.” The dagger sat on his waist, blood for you to see and all. You’d felt many illnesses down here, but it was that which made you loose every sense left to you. 

The door closed and once more you were left in darkness. You weren’t sure when the tears had started, but this time you let them fall until your eyes dried out like sands in the Dornish summer. 

You should have died with Robb, and you truly were beginning to think it was necessary to find a way to go back to him, one way or another. He had told you once you in those days before your wedding that you belonged in Winterfell, but what was your belonging in such a place without the wolves to keep you company?

The gods granted you a chilling answer to that question when some time later, they sent Ramsay Bolton down to your cell in the middle of the night, a disturbing glint in his unsettling pale eyes trained only on you. 

[devilfic]

could you do some more stuff on bruce with reader and dick ? the christmas one was ADORABLE AND I JUST CANT HANDLE okay thanks

a/n: you were probably hoping for something fluffy and I APOLOGIZE but I also really wanted to explore the relationship you'd have with dick when you first take him in and show how he grows to trust you ;-;;;;

imagine that it’s right after you and bruce take in dick. he’s angry, he’s grieving, he’s cold. it’s been a rough few weeks since the deaths of his parents. you and bruce had thought about having kids one day but it was never the right time, not until that night when it all happened and bruce looked at you and you just knew.

and then you’d somehow convinced this kid (this kid who looked the spitting image of your husband already, like he was destined to be yours) to let you keep him. not to be his parents because you could never replace john and mary grayson, but to give him a safe place to stay. dick is too young to be this angry but he agrees because he can’t find his parents’ killer when he’s too busy hopping from foster home to foster home with no end in sight.

and you expect that it’ll take time but it doesn’t make his rejection hurt any less. he never stays in the room long enough to talk to either of you, and when he does, he’s always asking about the investigation. it breaks your heart every time to tell him the gcpd are still looking, following leads that you both have a feeling lead nowhere. they don’t know where tony zucco is. you can see the frustration growing in him and the resentment too.

you try to be there because bruce can’t. how can he? he’s so busy looking, chasing those same leads as the bat every night. it makes it harder for dick to trust bruce. he’s a stranger to him. always working, never home. as far as dick was concerned, bruce didn’t give a rat’s ass about finding his parents’ murderer. but every night, from sundown to sun up, your husband was scouring the streets for the man that had ruined dick’s life. but you can’t tell dick that part. bruce isn’t ready.

and one night, it’s storming. it’s not uncommon in gotham but you feel your stomach flip at a crack of thunder. something pulls you out of your sleep, out of your empty bed and down the hall to dick’s room. the door is always shut and locked but now it’s cracked open. a peek inside and he’s nowhere to be found. your stomach drops at another crack of thunder.

you tear the penthouse apart and even alfred can’t tell you when he’d last seen him. it’s then that you notice his coat and shoes are gone, and you’re out the door with barely enough time to get dressed or to heed alfred’s warning.

your instincts are telling you that wherever he is, and god forbid he’s in a ditch somewhere with the kind of types that hang around the city this late, he’s close. even if you can’t see him. you keep searching the skies as if you’ll find him there when the bat signal flips on, and you realize that all this time, your instincts have been leading you right to it.

you reach the top of the building and find dick there, staring off into the sky, and you can’t help but demand to know what he was thinking running off like that. what if he’d gotten hurt or worse? what if you’d lost him for good?

and he’s got this look on his face like he’s freezing and doesn’t want you to notice because then you’ll just cover him in your coat and freeze too. because you would and have. you would do anything to protect him. “you won’t help me.”

“that’s not true, dick. these things take time. trust me, the gcpd is doing everything they can to find that man. we’re not letting zucco get away with what he did to your parents. you have to believe me.”

dick’s scoffing at you. If he wasn’t so small, still chubby-cheeked and rosy, his snark would put him beyond your years, “the police won’t find him. batman will.”

dick doesn’t know how right he is but you try to steer him away, telling him that batman is a vigilante and that there’s no way to prove if you can trust him, but it’s like everything you say goes in one ear and out the other. at some point, you tell him that bruce would be home soon and seeing dick missing would tear him up inside and, without missing a beat, dick tells you “he’d have to be around to care.”

and how do you reconcile with that? how do you make a child feel loved and cared for with nothing to show for it? nothing you can show for it?

you don’t know what you and bruce were thinking. you weren’t ready. you must have wanted to be so bad that you mistook it for something it wasn’t. dick grayson didn’t need new parents. he’d told you as much the minute you’d offered to take him in. of course he’d run away. as far as dick was concerned, all you’d given him was a pretty house to mourn in.

you almost forget why you’re up here.

dick spots him before you do, the dark knight, and from where you’re kneeling you can imagine what he must look like to a child. a boogeyman or an angel, something other than human. dick runs at him as if he’s all that and more. completely enamored. bruce can’t ask with dick there but his eyes flicker to you and you must look pitiful.

it’s just that dick is so. starstruck. you’ve never seen him like this in all the time he’s been with you. it almost feels worth it keeping the secret, then. “you came.” dick sighs.

you’re thinking about all the things bruce’s eyes are saying. he’s focused on this little boy, too afraid to look away, almost too afraid to speak. what if dick could tell? what if he mistook this for some cruel joke? but then bruce puts his hand on dick’s shoulder and would you believe it? for the first time, dick lets bruce touch him, “you called.”

“I need your help, batman.” dick pleads. you shut your eyes, unable to look at bruce or dick knowing what’s coming next. “someone took my parents away from me. I need to find him. and I need your help.”

a few moments pass. you dare crack open an eye, ready to sweep dick out of there and suffer his anger on the way home. anything to avoid seeing the inevitable heartbreak in your husband’s expression. you couldn’t take it. but you falter when you see bruce kneeling before the kid. he’s schooled his expression into something reminiscent of the symbol, the impenetrable, immovable batman, “the graysons, right? the flying graysons. you’re the kid.”

you can hear the shock in dick’s voice, “you know me?”

“I don’t forget a face,” you watch bruce smile, “or someone as talented as you. your parents were good people. I’m sorry for your loss… which is why I’m doing everything I can to find him, dick. I promise I’ll find him.”

“let me help.” bruce laughs—or gasps—at how sudden and stubborn his request is. dick immediately takes offense, “I’m not kidding.”

“no, no. I know you’re not. you just… remind me of someone. I believe you. but not just anybody can do what I do.”

“I can fight! a little. I need some training. but I’m really flexible! and I’m fast.”

“that’s good. people underestimate you when you’re small and lean.”

“how do I get superpowers like you?”

“I don’t have powers.”

“then how do you fly?”

bruce drags his cape between the two of them, eyes sparkling, “physics.”

dick doesn’t even know what that means. he still says “coooooool” like he does. “can I have a cape?”

taking dick’s hand in yours, you try your best not to say bruce’s name when you mean batman (because let’s be honest, the man in front of you is more bruce than anything—all soft eyes, tender voice, careful smiles), insisting that it’s late and way past dick’s bedtime and that you both really need to get home before this storm gets worse when dick begs batman to take you both home in his “super cool” car. and really, how can either of you refuse him?

so you keep him in your lap on the drive home, watching bruce explain what each of the little knobs and buttons do, but dick never runs out of questions. “how fast can you go?” “do you have other cars?” “does it have a name? can I name it?” bruce meets every single one of them with the breathless, youthful kind of joy you get when a child trusts you, really trusts and likes you. even if it’s not really him, it’s enough.

it must be a sight, crawling out of the batman’s car onto the sidewalk. dick clearly doesn’t want to go with his hands on the door begging to see batman again.

“you will,” bruce assures him, looking over at you for just a split second, “I promise.”

it’s days later when bruce gives you the go ahead and you take dick down into the elevator, the one you’d always told him didn’t work anymore. the first thing he sees is bruce at his desk with his cowl in his hands and that shocking black paint across his eyes, waiting with more fear than you’d seen in him fighting his greatest enemies. you don’t think he could take the rejection if this went badly.

bruce steps forward, kneels before dick, tender and vulnerable and open. dick’s shoulders tremble beneath your hands. “I think I found him, but I need your help. so no more secrets.” bruce holds out his hand, shaky and bare, “deal?”

dick is silent for a long time; lips pursed, eyes blown wide. you think he even stops breathing, his chest refusing to rise and fall. you brush a hand through his hair, whispering his name, and catch your husband’s worried eyes. was it too soon? had he scared off dick altogether?

but dick places his hand in bruce’s, so small in comparison. it’s such a shy touch that bruce doesn’t even close his hand around it, too afraid. doesn’t want to scare him. doesn’t want to indulge too much in this kid, so much like himself, finding safety and solace in him. because dick isn’t looking for parents. he wants answers, revenge, justice, whatever he called it to sleep better. and if all you and bruce could do for him is give him that closure, you would. and if dick wanted to leave when it was all said and done, you would let him do that too.

that evening, dick takes dinner with you two and alfred. you take heart in the fact that dick allows you this much. it’s one step, small as it may be, in the right direction.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @angxlictexrs @moonlightreader649 @geekyfer @thescarletfang @navs-bhat

[acourtofwhatthefuck]

Coming Home (Part Ten)

Azriel x Reader

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine

Hey, it's me again! I felt a bit bad for that last cliffhanger so I thought I’d give you another part 🤣 this part gets a bit heavy…and I don’t know if I like how it’s written but I hope you enjoy it all the same! ❤️

Warnings: Minor child injury detail, some ANGST!

⧪

“Tell me where we’re going.” 

Azriel’s face was a sheet of pure, unflinching steel as the skies zipped past you. He’d barely spoken a word; had just scooped you up in his strong arms and shot into the air with little more than a grunt. You couldn’t tell if the sickness unfurling inside of you was born of being flown with alcohol still in your system, or the anxiety that had begun to prick at you.

Something was seriously, seriously wrong. You could see it in his eyes – the fury.

“Azriel.” You snapped, pounding a fist against his chest. “Tell me what’s going on! Has something happened to Rhys?” 

He glanced at you, then – as if surprised that your brother was your first thought. “Not Rhys.” He said quietly.

And then they came into view beneath you – the cold, harsh Illyrian mountains. The brush of forestry that bordered the war camp. Like an ugly blot of ink on a pristine page, the hell that was your former home glared up at you, reached out to you. 

“No.” You bucked in Azriel’s arms, and his hold on you tightened as if he’d anticipated it. “No! Put me down!”

You’d sworn – you’d sworn you’d never set a foot back in that soulless place you’d grown up in. That you’d never again allow it to sink its claws into you. The things you’d endured there–

“I’m sorry.” Az’s jaw set. “I wouldn’t bring you here if it wasn’t absolutely necessary…I wouldn’t come here if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. We – we need the help.”

You couldn’t breathe. You were going to faint, or vomit, or…something. The blissful effects of the alcohol were long gone, replaced by a sickening soberness. Azriel was unfazed by your thrashing against him as he banked, hard, and landed within a copse of trees. 

Setting you on the ground did nothing to keep you upright. Your legs buckled beneath you, and he caught you beneath the arms, steadying you. Already, the smells of burning campfires, of mud and metal, were stuffing themselves up your nose. That oppressive, suffocating feeling…you couldn’t–

“Look at me.” Az’s face appeared before yours, palms cupping your cheeks. The warmth of him was pleasant against your icy skin; soothing you the tiniest bit. “I need you to concentrate for me, Y/N. We need you.” 

You hadn’t realised you were crying until a tear spilled over, dropping onto Azriel’s hand. You could have sworn the winds carried the bite of your late father’s voice, the vicious words he’d spoken that had tainted this very place beyond repair. You tried and tried – to stare back at Azriel. To focus. To block it out. 

“The girls have been attacked.” He said, his voice gruff.

Nothing was making sense. You frowned, blinking against your tears. “Girls?” 

“After Under the Mountain,” He breathed, “Rhys did everything he could to change things around here – to make sure the young girls had equal opportunity to the boys. That they’d be educated and trained just the same. There was some pushback from the males, from the girls’ father’s...so Rhys sectioned a part of the camp off for the girls and had dormitories built…somewhere they could be guarded and trained safely.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Their fathers and some other males have retaliated – incited a riot. The girls weren’t guarded. They went in there and started picking them off, one by one. Clipping their wings.”

The shock of it was so icy cold, chilling you from the inside, that your emotions, your fear, became nothing more than background noise. Such a grotesque, evil practice – to clip anyone’s wings. To destroy their lives. Your ears were ringing.

“Madja is already here.” Azriel was already pulling you along, your boots scuffing against the forest floor. “And a couple of other healers. But we need all the help we can get, Y/N…the carnage…” 

With shaking hands, you wiped your tears away, fixing a mask of cool calm onto your face. This was your job; what you were trained to do. You couldn’t let your feelings get in the way and put anyone’s lives at risk. 

“Were any girls able to get to safety?” Your voice shook as you followed, trying to keep with Azriel’s pace.

“Some.” He nodded gravely. “Some ran to the cottages. Some hid. Some weren’t so lucky. Rhys and Cassian hunted every single one of the males down. They’re dealing with them now.” 

Dealing with them. Whatever they were doing, you hoped it was slow. And painful.

Azriel pulled you through the trees, leading you to an unassuming brick building, surrounded by makeshift sparring rings and sparse racks barely stocked with weapons. 

The sounds hit you immediately – crying. Screaming. 

You wondered if you’d turned as pale as the Shadowsinger had.

⧪

Carnage was the right word.

The metallic sting of blood tinged the air. The dormitories were packed full with the pained cries of young girls and the frantic voices of the other healers as they shouted instructions to one another. Some girls, otherwise unharmed, merely cowered together in corners, trembling in fright. There were bowls of water carried back and forth, a spread of medical instruments and supplies, beds and sheets and pieces of ripped fabric tossed all over the place. 

Where these girls usually ate and slept had been turned into an improvised infirmary.

Azriel pulled you along in great, hurried strides. Out of nowhere, Madja appeared in the hallway, falling to a stop before you.

“Thank the Gods.” She breathed. “You need to go – now. The room at the back there – the girl needs seeing immediately. There aren’t enough of us here.”

“I’ll help.” Azriel continued on. “Tell me how to help, and I’ll do it.” 

Madja had already bustled through the door to what seemed to be some sort of dining room; the bulk of the chaos appeared to lay in there, with beds shoved side-by-side on which the injured girls lay, their cries mixing in with one another’s. 

You pushed through the door Madja had directed you to, Azriel hot on your heels. 

Only one girl lay in this room – perhaps the youngest you’d seen. Her blonde curls splayed out around her as she lay face-down, her body periodically twitching and jerking as she shook.. 

She looked…tiny. Too small, even, to stand upright with a heavy pair of wings to send her toppling over. And the damage to her back…

You knew immediately there was no salvaging those small, barely-formed wings. Torn and shredded beyond repair…your only choice was to treat the damage before what remained healed awkwardly, poorly, and the poor little girl was left with painful nerve and muscle damage for life. 

You communicated all of this to Az with just a glance. No matter how much you wanted to buckle beneath the horror of the situation…to cry and cry until you were hoarse…an injured child needed you more than you needed yourself. 

“Tell me what to do.” Az pleaded quietly, not once tearing his eyes from the little girl. 

And so you did.

⧪

Her name was Thea, and she was six.

You did everything you could to ease her pain while you worked. Madja had been able to briefly drop by and help, but with so many other girls to see to, you were more or less on your own.

Aside from Azriel of course. Azriel was a lifeline. 

If you asked him to do something, he did it. If you told him you needed him to get something, he got it. And when there was nothing he could physically do while you worked your magic on fixing as much damage as you could, he sat by Thea’s side and soothed her quietly. Held her tiny hand in his own. Kept her calm enough for you to do what needed to be done. 

It felt like hours and hours of soaking your hands with blood. Stitching gashes and tears and bandaging her back. But even with all your effort and expertise, a sickening truth hung starkly in the air.

That little girl would never fly. Never know the song of the skies or the feel of the wind in her mass of blonde curls. A sick, vile coward had taken that from her. Sealed that fate forever. 

You wondered if Rhys and Cassian had killed them yet. You hoped so. 

Dawn was breaking by the time every girl had been seen to. Some would heal completely. Some had damage as severe as Thea’s. All of them would no doubt be left with the mental scars of what had been done.

An eerie silence had settled over the dormitories. With nothing more you could do for Thea than to let her rest and heal, you’d given her a sleeping draft; a chance for her small body to truly fall asleep and have some relief from the pain. Only when you were sure she was sleeping deeply on her front did you set about helping the other healers clean up the carnage. Draining away the bloodied water and setting a fire to burn the medical waste. It was a relief to not hear the cries of pain anymore – but the heavy emptiness left in their wake wasn’t much better.

The only thing you could cling to was that no lives had been lost. All girls would live.

Azriel didn’t leave Thea’s side for a long, long while, and you didn’t push him to. You could see the haunted shadows that had gathered in his eyes, the utter rage on his face. If it helped him to be a calming presence to a little girl who had suffered such horrors, you would leave him to be exactly that. 

After a while, you had begun to think that maybe he’d fallen asleep in the chair beside Thea’s bed. You were just making your way back down the hall when he stepped out of the room, looking as exhausted and battered as you felt. He raked a hand through his hair, his wings seeming limp and tired behind him. 

“You look dead on your feet.” His voice was rough, gritty. 

That just about summed up how you felt. You knew the enormity of the situation would hit you at some point…the true weight and emotions of the horror. You pressed a hand against the wall, your head spinning. When was the last time you ate? It seemed like so long ago that you were stumbling into your bedroom with that nameless male. 

“Come on.” Azriel made a grab for you, steadying you. “You need to sleep.”

“I’m not sure I can face the flight home–”

“Neither can I.” He still lifted you into his arms, though. “I’m taking you to your mother’s cottage. You can sleep there.”

Your eyes shuttered as Az carried you. Right – somehow, you’d forgotten you were even in Windhaven. There had been no room for your own trauma while trying to save the girls from theirs. Part of you wanted to face the flight after all – to get the hell out of there. Madja and two of the other healers were holding the fort, staying behind to keep an eye on the girls; you could return to Velaris if you truly wanted to.

But maybe you needed to show some of the bravery and strength that those children had. That Thea had. 

And the Mother knew, Az looked in just as dire need of sleep as you were.

So you allowed him to carry you across the camp. Blocked out the noise and the sickening presence of the Illyrians you hated so much. They laughed and chatted around flickering fires as though a travesty hadn’t occurred mere yards from them.

You hid your face in Az’s leathers, and you didn’t argue as he carried you into your mother’s cottage.

⧪

“Here.” 

You looked up, heavy eyes fixing on the rising tendrils of steam from the mug Azriel held out to you. He placed his own down on the small coffee table and joined you on the settee. He seemed far too big for it now. 

Tired as you both were, you were too wired to sleep. Too many things to think about, to work through. So the two of you sat in silence with your own thoughts, only the crackle of the fire accompanying you. 

Your eyes roved around the tiny open-plan space. It was strange…being back there. Like stepping into a past life. Walking in the steps of a ghost. Your mother had been dead a long time, now, and yet her presence was still very felt there. If you closed your eyes, you could swear you still smelt the bread she would bake, still hear the songs she would hum to you until you fell asleep. 

You glanced at the table, a fond, muted smile tugging at your lips. That Gods-damn table – the same one your younger self used to sit across from Azriel at, gazing at him whilst Cassian teased you and Rhys tested you on what things you’d learned that day. Cas had once coaxed you into carving a crude word into the wood until your mother had noticed and sent you to bed early.

Far, far simpler times. Far, far out of reach. 

Were you any bit the person you’d expected your younger self to grow up into? 

No. You weren’t.

“Talk to me…” 

You jumped, even though Azriel’s voice was barely above a whisper. You turned to face him, taking a long sip of the tea he’d made you. “What do you want to talk about?” 

“You saved that little girl’s life tonight.” 

Your gaze dipped. “Not her wings, though.” You murmured. “I couldn’t save her wings.” 

A fact you knew would haunt you forever, even if nothing could have been done about it. You closed your eyes, savouring the feel of the steam rising from the cup and fanning your face. Until the cup was taken from your hands.

Az placed it down on the coffee table, beside his. He scooted closer to you, angling his body towards you. You watched, your heart fluttering slightly as he cupped your face in his hands. Rested his forehead against yours.

It was…close. Intimate. The closest you’d been since the kiss in your bedroom. And you wanted nothing more than to lean into it, to not let go of his touch. 

But you behaved yourself. Didn’t move a muscle as his fingers stroked your cheeks, his breath brushing your lips. 

“She will be okay,” He murmured, “Because of you.”

“How can she possibly be okay, Az? What they did–”

“Was barbaric. Evil. But she will be alright. Just like you’re alright, despite all of the horrid things you suffered here.”

You barked a curt, humourless laugh, pushing out of his hold. “I’m hardly alright.”

Az said nothing. You knew he was staring at you, trying to read you. But you needed to move your restless legs, to shout or scream or just do something. To finally get rid of the thoughts that had hammered you constantly for the past three weeks. Maybe longer. You stood up, pacing the floor before him. 

“Y/N—”

“I,” You snapped, “am a mess, Azriel. A stupid, reckless mess.”

“You’re wrong.”

“I make one bad choice after another. I run away from my problems rather than face them. I act without thinking about who I might hurt, or what shame I might bring down upon everyone—”

“Bullshit.” Azriel spat. “What Rhys said to you was utter bullshit. You have to know that.”

But you didn’t know it. You weren’t even listening. As if the events of the last few weeks had just begun to creep up on you, the horrors you’d just faced weighing heavily on you, a laugh bubbled from your lips in near-hysteria. 

“Do you know the worst thing about it?” You spun on your feet, laughing again as your eyes met Az’s. “I think I do all of those things because I’m scared of who I am without them. I’m so scared of being that nobody my father said I was, that I would rather be a complete fuck-up than nothing at all.”

Azriel’s eyes were dangerous as he stood, his jaw visibly clenching. “Stop it.” 

“Look at all the shit that has happened since I came back. The trouble with Rhys and Lucien and Elain and you. Especially you.” You were pacing again, unaware of him moving closer. “I shouldn’t have come back. I should have stayed away.”

“Don’t,” Azriel snapped, “you fucking dare.”

“You—“

“I was fucking miserable while you were away. All those Gods-damned years, waking every day and wondering if that would be the day you turned back up on the doorstep. All the Starfalls and Solstices that you weren’t there to keep me sane amid all the chaos. All that time wondering if you were safe, if you were happy — I even kept the fucking note from the last Solstice gift you gave me, just so I had some part of you with me.” Finally, he inhaled a slow, deep breath; an attempt to quell his temper.. “So don’t ever say you should have stayed away, when you leaving destroyed me in the first fucking place.”

You’d gone cold. 

So uncomfortably cold. And still. Rigid.

What exactly he was saying, insinuating — you weren’t sure. But you were stunned by the sudden urge to cry as you stared at him.

“…Then why?” You whispered, furiously blinking away tears. “Why tell me to keep my distance from you?”

You hated how small you sounded and felt. But with how much you were trembling, trying to win a useless fight against your tears, there was no strength to muster. Nothing you could do. 

Azriel’s eyes shuttered. “Because I’m trying to do right by everyone. But I’m not sure I can.”

No, he couldn’t — you knew that. There was no possible way to please everyone…and you wouldn’t ever let him break his back trying to do so. But maybe…maybe you were being unfair. Maybe you’d asked too much of him in the first place. 

Maybe you could…could settle. The thought alone made you wince, but surely you’d grow used to it—

“I don’t expect anything of you, Az.” You said quietly. “Just…having you in my life is enough. I don’t want to keep my distance from you.”

Those deep, stunning eyes of his opened. Fixed on you. There were a thousand indiscernible thoughts written on his face. So many things you wanted to ask about, delve into. But maybe you needed to learn not to do so.

Maybe some things were just…better left alone. Your feelings in particular.

“I don’t want to keep my distance from you, either.” Az said. 

You inhaled a slow, deep breath. “So don’t. We can be…friends. Right?”

“…Right.” He studied your face. “Friends.”

You nodded, because that was all you could do. And even though you wanted to break, to cry until you could cry no more, you squared your shoulders and brushed past Azriel.

“I’m going to bed.” You told him softly. “Goodnight.”

Az nodded stiffly. “Goodnight.”

You climbed the narrow, creaking staircase, your heart heavy in your chest. Walking away from him felt so, so wrong, but it was time for you to have some semblance of control. Of restraint. 

But still – you couldn’t help wondering what may have been left unsaid.

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

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[jennaissantes]

first kiss (of many)

PROMPT: ‘was that your first kiss?’ from list iv with heeseung

wc: 482 pairing: heeseung x fem!reader genre: fluff warnings: singular use of the word ‘bitch’🤗

🧇: tysm for requesting this @sato-chan-2709 !! i hope u like it 💗

“one toothpaste ice cream for milady”

you almost want to roll your eyes playfully at your boyfriend.

“stop it hee omygod its not even that bad if you try it.” said boyfriend makes a disgusted face and steps away from you. “didnt know i was dating a demon hmm.”

you eye his cookies and cream flavoured ice cream and watch him eat some of it. “at least i'm not a basic bitch.”

heeseung gasps at your comment. “the slander!”

you laugh, playfully hitting his arm as heeseung smiles and sits next to you, watching the sunset beautifully over the top of the building while eating your ice cream.

“its so pretty isnt it?” you say, sighing at the beauty of nature painting over her skies. you turn to heeseung, only to see him staring at you.

“yeah you are.”

your cheeks turn a reddish hue “seventeen days into dating and youre already this cheesy.”

heeseung smirks, “oh you’ve been counting?” you widen your eyes at the slip up. “oh uh.. no haha it was just a random number. i'm not that big a simp.”

your boyfriend, who has also gone red, now clutches his heart in faux pain, “you wound me baby.”

“oh shut it.” you giggle at his playfulness. heeseung pulls you closer to him by the waist.

“are you sure youre not that big a simp for me? hm?” he says, tilting his head to look at you.

he knew the effect he had on you as you tried to wriggle out of his arms. but he was much stronger than you, pulling you even closer, noses touching.

words dont come to you so you can only shake your head as your lover watches you in sheer admiration, inching a bit closer.

you can feel his breath on your lips, his eyes searching for any hesitation in yours.

when he finds none, he leans in to connect his lips with yours.

and its nothing like the books. no fireworks, no music playing in the background, just comfort.

heeseung smiles against your lips a bit, before deepening it. he’s beyond relieved to feel you kissing him back.

once he pulls back, he leaves one more small kiss on your lips and forehead before hugging you close.

“was that your first kiss?” he asks you and you dont meet his gaze, only nodding.

heeseung is happy that you trust him to be your first. he hugs you again, whispering a thank you into your shoulder.

and somewhere in your heart, you know that you could love heeseung forever.

send in a request 🕰️

[libraryofloveletters]

Mountains of Snow

Kostas Tsimikas x Fem!Reader

Warnings: so much snow, reader is not vibing with the snow, kostas wants to build a snowman, kostas also uses the powers of persuasion to get you to come out with him, a bit of fibbing and sorta dialogue heavy.

Word Count: 389

Author's Note: kos is the cutest boyfriend ever.

--

Kostas insists that you two should go out into the snow and make a snowman. When you say no, he uses his skills of persuasion to get you to change your mind. 

Snow was the choice for this year's holiday break. The two of you had gone somewhere sunny last year so this year, you decided that you wanted to go skiing instead.

There had been a huge downpour of snow overnight and you were beyond glad to see it. This meant that you were finally going to get a break from skiing, despite that being the whole purpose of the trip, your body was aching.

3 days of skiing was exhausting.

You were lazing on the couch, relaxing and trying to unwind when your boyfriend drops himself on top of you. "Hi beautiful," he smiles, cheek in your thigh as he looks up at you.

"Hi Kostas," you brush your knuckles over his cheek.

He nuzzles into your touch, "let's go outside."

"What for? I don't want to ski today."

"We don't have to ski," he says, sitting up. "We can build a snowman."

You roll your eyes, laughing. "You're not serious, Kos. You're 27 years old, there's no way you want to go out and make a snowman."

"I'm so serious," he tells you, mustering a serious look on his face. You laugh, "Kos, c'mon babe."

Your boyfriend pulls you into him, kissing all over your face. "Did I tell you how pretty you are? And how much I loveeeeee you."

"Kostas, I'm not changing my mind."

"C'mon," he pouts, resting his chin on your shoulder. "Pleaseeeee."

"It's freezing outside, babe."

He pouts again, "it's freezing everyday." You don't answer him, hoping he'd drop it but he huffs. "Fine, I'll buy you those heels you wanted if you come out."

"Seriously?" You say, looking over at him. Kostas nods, "I'll drive you to the store myself."

"Fine," you nod, getting up. Kostas smiles, following you as you two get all bundled up and head out into the front yard of the cabin. The snow was soft enough that you could walk through but solid enough that you could form snowballs.

The two of you had made the first two parts to the snowball, stacking them together and were working on the third one when Kostas turned to you.

"You know," he starts, "I would have bought you the heels anyways."

You huff, throwing a snowball at him. "I hate you."

Kostas smiles, kissing your cold lips. "I love you."

[blackjackkent]

OK, finishing out the rest of Hector's endgame today. We left off after Lae'zel departed to the skies, so time to see what the rest of the squad wants to talk about. Seems we get a quick chat with Gale and a little vignette with Astarion!

Narrator: With the githyanki gone, there's nothing left but the silence of the city, smoldering, waiting to be rebuilt.

Narrator: But it seems that Gale's mind is elsewhere.

Hector can already guess where Gale's mind has gone, and he listens with a flash of worry that feels antithetical to the joy and relief of the moment.

"The Crown. It's somewhere in the Chionthar. If I salvage the stones, I can reforge it." He sounds a thousand miles away, his voice distant and thoughtful and troubled. "The power of Karsus would be in my hands." He hesitates, turns back to look towards Hector. "But what then? What would I do with it, once I have it?"

Hector sighs. He can picture many things his friend might do with the godlike power that would come with controlling the Crown of Karsus. Most of them, most likely, would be good, for Gale is a good man. But power corrupts; it is a tenet that was taught to him from earliest childhood, and much as he hates to admit it, he does not believe Gale - in his hubris and in his need for recognition - is beyond such corruption.

To do as Mystra asked of Gale, of course - to return the power to her, to gain her "forgiveness" and resume their previous relationship - is no better, really. Difficult as it is for him to say as a man of faith, he thinks Mystra was no good for Gale, that she displayed an all-too-human attitude of manipulation and petty control. He does not want to see Gale caught back in that net either.

There is, of course, a third option. "Perhaps it's best you leave it where it is," he says quietly. "Lest anyone should ever again be tempted by such power."

Gale smiles slightly. He seems almost relieved to be encouraged in this direction. "A wise suggestion," he murmurs. "I fell to hubris once before and landed myself with this orb. I think I'd rather not make the same mistake again."

He steps up beside Hector, looks out across the water turning gold in the setting sun. "If this adventure has taught me anything," he goes on, "it's that there are things in this world far more valuable than power." His eyebrows lift and he laughs suddenly. "Besides, I've grown quite fond of this merry band of ours, and I'd quite like to see what happens to it."

Hector slaps him on the shoulder lightly and grins, feeling deeply relieved. This is the best outcome, he is sure of it.

Gale returns the gesture, leaves his hand resting on Hector's shoulder. "I'm sure Mystra will summon me soon enough," he says. The smile flickers, then returns at full strength, and his eyes glitter with sudden mischief. "But until then, I propose we celebrate our victory the mortal way - with a drink in our hands and reckless abandon in our hearts."

Behind them, Jaheira laughs. "That might be the smartest thing you've ever said, Gale," she says dryly. She raises an eyebrow at Hector. "What do you think? Time for a quick one, before the work begins again?"

Hector looks out thoughtfully at the horizon for a long moment. He can smell the bitter scent of smoke on the air; he knows the cheers in the distance are laced with grief at what has been lost. There will be so much to rebuild, and he must be in the middle of it. It is his instinct as a Selunite monk towards charity and service, of course - but something deeper, too. This is Karlach's city, shattered apart; he must find it in him to help put it back together.

But not tonight. Jaheira is right - the work will be waiting. They have earned the time to rest, to rejoice. And...

His eyes flick to Karlach, to the way the flame is dancing implacably in her chest. The day falls so fast to darkness... there is so little time left...

"A celebration sounds perfect," he says softly.

"Yes!" Astarion says excitedly. "We should see if the Elfsong's still standing. I won't imbibe, but I'll be happy to be away from here and in your company."

Hector turns to grin at him as well. Another companion he is proud of. How far he has come, Astarion, and Hector is so grateful to have seen that growth.

But the pleasure shatters apart into sudden alarm.

"I honestly don't mind what we do, once we get-- ow!"

Astarion's head jerks. A flash of white fire burns along his cheek. Hector's satisfaction shatters apart into sudden alarm. Oh, gods. The sun.

"What the-- oh, no. Oh, gods..."

With the tadpole eliminated, Astarion's protections have gone with it. He is a true spawn once again, with all that entails. The sun burns into him like hellsfire.

Deep pain flashes through Astarion's eyes, mixed with panic that gives him no time to fully process it. "Well..." he whispers. "It was nice while it lasted. Argh!" he jerks with another spasm of pain. Hector has no time to reach out or offer any comfort; he turns and darts away like a shot, diving into the shadow of a nearby loading rig. "I'm sorry, I-- I have to go!"

And he is gone. Hector watches him go with a feeling of sudden regret. They all knew this was coming, the punishment inherent in Astarion's bravery and self-sacrifice.

Narrator: Astarion's days in the sun are behind him. The best you can hope is that he finds darkness, and the comfort it once gave him. Knowing him, he probably will. Comfort was always one of his specialties - especially when it was his own.

Perhaps. But Hector will make a point of finding him later, in whatever shadow he winds up hiding in. His freedom is still a new thing, and he deserves whatever support Hector can give him to find his footing.

"Let's get to the tavern," he says quietly. "We can make a plan from there. Karlach--" He turns, sees her looking out at the water as well, lost in thought. "Karlach?"

[jaxteller87]

Amber in Dreamland

Jax had taken the kids to his mom’s so I could finally get a much-needed break. Between illness and school, this mama was beyond grateful for the quiet. I was lying on the sofa with full intentions of catching up on my reading. Donna had given me this book called Battle Royale she told me to check out. I was a fan of The Hunger Games, and apparently, the book she gave me was one of the inspirations behind it. However, anytime I lay on that couch with the intention of reading, I end up just drifting off to dreamland instead.

I had just rolled in with burgers and sweets to surprise Donna, but she was busy. And then he walked in— Jax Teller, the one who got away.

“Hey there, Kemp. Long time no see,” he smirked.

That smirk. I’d been immune to a lot when it came to this man, but that smirk could still make me melt like butter in a warm cast iron pan.

“What brings you back to town?” he asked, sitting down beside me.

“Oh, nothing much, just selling my parents’ old place. It’s time, you know…” 

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a burst of light, and then this little girl came running toward him.

“Daddy!!”

“There you are, squirt!” he said.

“Where’s Mama?”

Jax smiled. “With Grandma.” His teeth were so white that they glowed pleasantly.

“And who is this?” I smiled at the girl.

“Mary,” she beamed.

I glanced out the window to see Tara and Gemma walking towards the shop.

“Did you tell Daddy we’re ready for our little trip?” Tara smiled.

“No, Mama, I didn’t…”

“The club blew up the other day. Well, part of it, anyway,” Jax whispered.

There it was. The violence. Tara was always more suited to this life than I ever was. I don’t know how much truth there was to it, but the word going around says Tara has a body count of her own— and I’m not talking hookups. Apparently, she strangled Ima, one of the girls who used to work for Luann, for getting too cozy with Jax. Whether or not Tara was responsible is uncertain, but Ima’s dead body did wash up on the beach with hand marks around her neck. 

All I know is if Jax were my husband and that Ima skank started getting too comfortable around him— I’d like to think I’d do the same thing as Tara— allegedly, of course.

The next thing I knew, I found myself sitting at the town bar, taking some time to catch up with Donna while Opie was away somewhere with the kids.

And there he was again— Teller, sitting right beside me with his beer and that familiar smile. The scent of cologne and cigarette smoke was a comforting mix I never thought I’d like— let alone miss.

“The life we could have had if you’d come to NY with me after my parents passed,” I mused aloud.

“So, Kemp, how’s life going?” he smirked.

“Good. Work’s good. I have a boyfriend who treats me well. Life’s nice and quiet.”

“But he’s not me,” he added quietly. “What about you besides the club blowing up?” he asked, sipping his drink.

“Eh, it’s okay, I guess. A wife, a kid, everyone’s happy, everyone’s healthy— what more could you ask for?”

“Amber, I gotta ask you something, if that’s okay.”

I nodded.

“Do you think we get it right in the next lifetime… if you believe in that sort of thing?”

“I hope so,” I admitted.

We talked for a few more minutes, and then he left, kissing me on the top of my head. “I love you,” he whispered.

Suddenly, the ground beneath my feet began to tremble, and before I knew it, I was shaking from side to side. All the people I was just talking to had disappeared. The bar, the clubhouse, the living room— all gone. Looking around, all I could see were blue skies and big puffy white clouds— and then there was me—  falling through it all. 

“Babe?” a familiar voice called out from the Heavens. “Amber?” It said my name.

“Huh? What?” I woke up on the sofa to Jax gently shaking me awake. I still had the copy of Battle Royale propped open on my chest. Page 7 was as far as I got, apparently, before I lost my standoff to Mister Sandman and fell asleep.

“Amber, honey,” Jax said softly, “you were having a bad dream.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, sitting up and looking around the room. “This isn’t a dream, too, is it?”

“I mean, it’s my dream— as in, I’m living the life I always wanted. I have you, and we have kids— and a dog with two cats,” he explained.

“So this isn’t a literal dream then? Is it real?” I tried to sit up, but my back was a little stiff— probably from falling asleep on the sofa again.

“Darlin’, this is reality, and you’re stuck in it,” Jax smiled and kissed my forehead. “Sorry, love.”

“Oh, good,” I said, grabbing his face and kissing it all over.

Later that night, Teller and I were snuggled up together in bed. I told him about my dream— it wasn’t a bad dream; it was more like a ‘right person, wrong time’ scenario— kind of like how Marvel Comics did the old What If series; like what if the Fantastic Four never got their powers, or what if Hulk was intelligent but his human counterpart, Bruce, was more of the neanderthal. My dream was exactly like that— what if Jax ended up with Tara. Usually, these dreams leave me in tears, but not this time. 

“Well, I gotta ask,” he murmured, nuzzling my neck. “Do you believe in the whole ‘multiple lifetimes with a person’ thing?”

“Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t,” I chuckled. “On a bad day, I think, why would I want to come back here? But on a good day, sure, maybe I’d come back one day. If it’s true, then yes, I think you’re one of those people who’s been in my life every time, just in different roles.”

“Well, if it were up to me, you’d be my wife and baby mama every time,” he laughed.

“Is that so, Big Papa?” I cooed, snuggling closer.

“Yup,” he chuckled, giving my ass a playful slap. “Careful. You know what that does to me.”

“I know,” I smirked. “The kids are away, so the parents will play,” I teased.

“Should I get the genie costume out?” he joked, kissing my neck.

[punkscowardschampions]

Nancy & Teddy Pt.1

Nancy: Darling, PLEASE tell me you are currently in the city 🙏👀

Teddy: You caught me, I am, in fact

Nancy: It was a safe bet, it’s not ski season

Nancy: speaking of, are you still going with [the last girl he was, to our knowledge]?

Teddy: It isn’t cuffing season either, darling

Teddy: my interest in her is long expired

Nancy: Yay!

Nancy: You can do me the biggest favour ever then 👏😽

Teddy: Which is? Do tell 

Nancy: You’ve seen my cousin Grace at parties before, right?

Teddy: 🤔 I can’t place her without some more info

Nancy: [send him the latest pics of y’all together]

Nancy: any more info required?

Teddy: I could ask why she follows you around like a [insert whatever the trendy small dog of the era is because different breeds are popular and pop off at different times] but I’m not entirely sure I care

Nancy: You should know what great fun I am

Nancy: and how else is she getting the hookup 💁‍♀️

Teddy: I know her accent grates, there’s a poss nickname in there somewhere

Nancy: no, no, you have to be the perfect gentleman, I need you to distract her from blathering so much

Teddy: Whose idea of fun is that, Nance?

Teddy: certainly not mine

Nancy: I know but the fun comes afterwards

Nancy: As if I would just offer out the job with no idea of the salary it’s worth

Teddy: You’re milking this, get to the point where I have the full picture, I’m begging you 🙏👀

Nancy: How telling…

Nancy: fine, I need her distracted, give it a date before you get straight to the point and she’ll do whatever you want her to, trust me

Nancy: and when she has gone home again, I have enough K to take out the whole of Cheltenham, you get first dibs

Teddy: See? Was that truly SO difficult?

Nancy: I’m doubting your ability to play nice and wait for it though

Nancy: perhaps I’ll have to ask [some random boys y’all both know, casual list lol] 

Teddy: Your lack of trust devastates me 💔

Teddy: don’t you think I have adequate form for you to have a measure of faith? 

Nancy: Missing my [whatever flimsy reason we have to have a party] party would devastate you, [the last party you threw that he was not at for whatever reason] was immense, I can’t send you those photos

Nancy: That’ll be why you were my first thought, the main reason at least

Teddy: I can do 💝🧸💐 anytime & anywhere, clue is rather in the name

Teddy: & you could send me those photos if you wanted to

Nancy: Your mother knew how killer a combo it’d be with your cute face, the foresight is impressive

Nancy: Perhaps

Nancy: on a platform where the evidence disappears after 24hrs

Teddy: Nobody likes a tease, my mother included

Nancy: She isn’t that but I’m sure your mother would still loathe her

Teddy: Undoubtedly, it’s a speciality of hers, but I can’t say I blame her, nobody is good enough for me either

Nancy: Baby perks, I am not familiar 

Nancy: beyond how tiring it is to watch everyone fawn over Ava

Teddy: But you’re prepared to watch your cousin fawn over me? 

Nancy: Well, why would that bother me? 🤔

Teddy: It’s slightly sacrificial & it’s not even your birthday 🎃💀

Nancy: Of you or her?

Nancy: because neither of you has anything to be scared of, I promise

Teddy: Me, of course

Teddy: what’s WRONG with her that she needs to rely so heavily on my charity?

Nancy: She won’t just be grateful to you if I’ve helped set you two up, obviously

Teddy: You haven’t answered my question

Nancy: That depends on your outlook, the lack of stable parenting and family trauma probably makes her an ideal lay

Nancy: it also means I’m the only guiding force in her life

Teddy: You’re doing me a favour too, from that outlook

Teddy: it’s convenient, but I’m not upset about it

Nancy: I know, I’m a nice person

Teddy: You’re a devious person

Teddy: 😈 beats 😇

Nancy: And if you do a good enough job, we could play with her together, it’s a possibility

Teddy: I’ll keep it in mind, as a motivational tool

Nancy: First you have to think up how you’re going to ‘notice’ her

Teddy: a worthy meet cute 

Nancy: Mm, well, she doesn’t keep much off her socials, personality and list of likes and dislikes have basically been handed to you on a plate

Teddy: From what I’ve scoped out thus far, you’re being too kind suggesting she has a personality 

Nancy: So mean! 🤭

Nancy: I’m her personality, duh

Teddy: Perhaps I can spin spilling ☕️ on her into a romantic moment as that’s all she does, socially, when you aren’t around

Nancy: Very unassuming, very sweet

Nancy: I know she’s had the fantasy

Teddy: When’s she coming back?

Nancy: Whenever I want

Nancy: and I am SO bored right now

Teddy: I know the feeling

Nancy: Are you doing the whole Uni thing?

Teddy: For my sins

Nancy: Are you on the team?

Nancy: The rugby guys had the best parties

Teddy: [idk about rugby but tell her what position you play because you definitely would be that bitch like it or not cos your dad is clearly that bitch and made your brother be too, hence you’re at uni in the first place]

Nancy: So you can invite her to watch you play 🥴

Teddy: It’s a date

Nancy: 💘 puke

Nancy: [your friend when Uni days that you just lived through] fully got through the whole team in freshers

Teddy: Our [friend’s name] was called [another girl’s name because clearly this is just a thing peeps do] 💘

Nancy: That’s what you’re paying the tuition for, after-all

Teddy: So true

Nancy: You’re ready to do this whenever I can get her here, right?

Nancy: because I am at real risk of texting my ex now we’ve taken this trip down memory lane and that is simply too tragic for me

Teddy: If only to heroically save you from that fate

Nancy: I heard, you’re bored too

Nancy: there’s been nothing to do lately

Teddy: OR I’m getting into character & practising being a gentleman

Nancy: you’re good at it, it’s almost like you have a brother who went insanely boring or something

Teddy: & a sister who married someone old & boring despite being insane, all his meet cutes are probably in black & white

Nancy: It’s what smart girls have to do, eventually, worst luck

Teddy: Spare me an invitation to yours, once was more than sufficient

Nancy: You know I have you beat in sibling sob stories, the tragedy gets worse and worse with mine

Teddy: We’re both painfully aware SHE isn’t the family sob story, in comparison to J’s wedding day, hers was a triumph

Nancy: I’m not sure what your parents were thinking with the child bride situ… wasn’t a good look, state of her in the dress aside

Teddy: Hostage situation for everyone involved

Nancy: at least the trauma will stop us having to watch Ava go down the aisle 

Teddy: I’ve noticed Grace is a babysitter, which will stop me having to watch his children

Nancy: Ooh, listen to you

Nancy: how long do you think you can make this work?

Teddy: As long as it’s beneficial 

Nancy: Well, she’s definitely a willing babysitter, that isn’t changing

Teddy: She can stay, for a while

Nancy: she basically treats my spare room like it’s hers so

Teddy: We’ll be seeing more of each other then

Nancy: Probably, providing your mask doesn’t slip

Teddy: & she doesn’t move herself into my room instead

Nancy: She’s still a [whatever breed of dog we called her] 

Teddy: I’ve got a loud whistle in me

Nancy: 😏 prove it

Teddy: & how good I am at tug of war when you lose it to me

Nancy: Oh to have the confidence of a mediocre white boy, loves it

Teddy: Firstly, you’re also white, so the shots weren’t fired with enough force there & secondly, I’ve never been accused of being mediocre outside of a classroom

Nancy: Golden boy is a little literal but I’d take it to heart too

Teddy: Bold to assume I have a heart, darling

Nancy: Fake it to break hers, yeah

Teddy: It’ll be something to do

Nancy: it’s that or the whole Eliza Doolittle bit and that isn’t that entertaining tbh

Nancy: I knew you’d be interested

Teddy: Singing would be where I drew the line

Nancy: spoilsport 😜

Teddy: For her, maybe not for you

Nancy: Convincing, well done, you

Teddy: One thing I’ll always do is prove myself

Nancy: That’s a dangerous thing to say to someone like me, darling

Teddy: Danger isn’t the deterrent it should be for someone like me

Nancy: Aren’t you thankful I’m such a nice person that won’t take advantage then

Teddy: OR you’re being an even bigger spoilsport by not

Nancy: Me? Never

Nancy: all I do is have a good time, what’s the point in anything else

Teddy: Preaching to the choir

Nancy: Suits 😇

Teddy: Me? Never 😈

Nancy: You’re good fun

Nancy: it’ll be amusing watching you be her ideal version of a man when I know what you’re really like

Teddy: I’m looking forward to being watched by you

Nancy: You should be, I don’t give out my interest for just anything

Teddy: If I’m not everything, I’m not interested & I’ll forfeit

Nancy: You aren’t going to forfeit

Teddy: You aren’t going to look away

Nancy: you’ll blink before I do

Teddy: I wouldn’t dare, there’s too much I could miss

Nancy: Right answer

Nancy: do you live at home or in halls?

Teddy: You know the answer, cherished baby & golden boy

Teddy: why slum it in halls?

Nancy: You are going to need to use my place then

Teddy: There are limits to how well I could counteract my mother’s blatant hatred, yeah

Nancy: Can’t have her ‘accidentally’ walking in every time

Teddy: Enough that it’s believably accidental only

Nancy: What’s it like, being the favourite?

Teddy: Fantastic

Nancy: Hm

Teddy: But I’m not my father’s, somehow she remains his favourite

Nancy: Freud knows why

Teddy: I’m hopeful they could divorce over it, my friends parents have for a lot less

Nancy: getting to pit them against each other would be amazing, been so woefully deprived of the chance

Teddy: I’ve been driving a wedge for years, I think once he expects me to work for him that’ll be the final straw

Nancy: What tiresome thing does he even do?

Teddy: Who knows? [and a guess that is wrong lol because this boy doesn’t care haha]?

Nancy: I shan’t be marrying your father when mine cuts me off 😴

Teddy: Well that’s the step-mother fantasy dashed 💔

Nancy: 😆 you’ll have to pray your real one isn’t a beast

Teddy: I’ll get you to reconsider, prayers answered

Nancy: It is the ideal set-up

Nancy: your sister should have waited a few more years, lest she look entirely predatory herself

Teddy: Perhaps she was concerned he’d die if she waited any longer

Nancy: 🤢

Nancy: I’m just going to start dealing, I can’t handle it

Teddy: I’ll keep your lights on without seeing you resort to a hard  day’s work

Nancy: SO gentlemanly

Nancy: I’d be a useless drugs mule, I’m simply keeping the stuff

Teddy: I’m trying to sell it 🤵🏼

Nancy: hate to talk ill of her but I don’t think that’s going to be a great challenge

Nancy: She hasn’t had a boyfriend that wasn’t some sort of shit

Teddy: Oh, in that case, I’m just trying to stop you from getting some boyfriend in to pay your bills

Nancy: As if I could

Teddy: You could, of course you could

Nancy: If you get enough use out of the spare room, I can charge you rent, how about that?

Teddy: 🤝

Nancy: wouldn’t want you thinking I’m enjoying having you around 

Teddy: Your cousin is going to be the delusional one

Nancy: 🤝

Nancy: She’ll arrive [whatever time ASAP because the vibe]

Teddy: I’ll run in to her at [a coffee shop she always goes to and tags near to where Nancy lives] ASAP

Nancy: I look forward to her liveblog

Nancy: You should wear [something he owns that we have seen him in that we think is a mood, clearly]

Teddy: Okay, I will

Nancy: Trust me, she’ll not believe you’re even talking to her

Teddy: I can’t believe I’ve agreed to

Nancy: Come on, you might really like her, Teddy

Teddy: She’ll be convinced it’s real

Nancy: but maybe you’ll fall in love and I can keep the lights on being a matchmaker 😍😽

Teddy: You should be a comedian 

Nancy: 😏 you’ll like her a lot lot more when she’s loyal to you too

Teddy: We’re not allowed pets, I have always wanted a dog

Nancy: Awh, 🥺 now

Teddy: Would you let me keep one in your spare room?

Nancy: There are no rules at my place

Teddy: Come puppy shopping with me then, you’re bored

Nancy: This is as you’re not setting me up with one of your lame friends to mould to my whims?

Nancy: Probably a better offer

Teddy: Guaranteed, none of my friends could handle your whims 

Nancy: So devastatingly true 

Teddy: So put on [something he’s seen her wear] & let’s go

Nancy: Is that what people wear to puppy shop? 

Teddy: No idea, I’ve been denied the opportunity until now

Teddy: but I’ve had the chance to see you in [these clothes] & I know it bears repeating

Nancy: You wouldn’t sell a puppy to an ugly person, would you

Nancy: better to be overdressed and hot, for a few reasons

Teddy: What breed shall we buy?

Nancy: NOT [whatever we said Grace was, like you would be so triggered]

Nancy: I think you like bigger dogs, proper ones

Teddy: Yeah, you’re correct

Nancy: Me too, and a boy one

Teddy: What’s your ex boyfriend’s name?

Nancy: [me like I dread to think tbh you got a dog’s name yourself boy lmao]

Teddy: Strike it from the list

Nancy: 🤭 he’ll be lumbering his own future spawn with that name, poor thing

Teddy: Won’t catch me doing my father’s trick with the II

Nancy: The pressure to be as 💝🧸💐 as you is too much

Teddy: He’d have to look exactly like me or it’s an elephant in the room

Nancy: James III nailed that one part

Teddy: 👏 failed with every other comparison & expectation twice as spectacularly to compensate

Nancy: Poor boy, he used to be fun

Teddy: Who remembers that far back?

Nancy: Not you 👶

Teddy: I’m all grown up now

Nancy: So I’ve heard

Teddy: Who’s been telling tales of me?

Nancy: No, that’s classified

Teddy: Don’t hold out, share the info

Nancy: Think about it, or is the list that long and that blurry?

Teddy: Truthfully, yeah, kind of

Nancy: Ahh, Uni

Nancy: we know lots of the same people, better and worse

Teddy: Postcode perks

Nancy: If I had to make a list of forbidden dog names, it’d be very telling, put it that way

Teddy: Well now you simply must

Nancy: When you can’t remember any of yours, allegedly

Nancy: I think not

Teddy: I can remember most of the boys, there isn’t as many

Nancy: or the memories are more cherished 

Teddy: Ha ha, do you want the list or not?

Nancy: Obviously

Teddy: [drop that, however many there are because I just feel like that’s a posh boy thing to do, especially if you’re wilding]

Nancy: I totally slept with [one of] too! 😶

Teddy: I’m sure he’s slept with everyone in the city but I choose to cherish this unexpected connection

Nancy: Eskimo sisters, that’s what we call it

Teddy: Have you slept with [a girl he has who clearly gets around lol]?

Nancy: Yes but it was so horrific, we were so smashed so don’t be asking about me based on that

Teddy: You should have another go at her, it’s a fond memory for me

Nancy: Was it your first time or just a good time?

Teddy: One of the first times it was good

Nancy: I get it

Teddy: & she wasn’t like I thought she’d be

Teddy: maybe I should call her myself 

Nancy: Does sound like you’re in love with her, yeah

Teddy: Be serious

Nancy: You, ruining my plans

Teddy: I don’t fall in love, be ruining my own plans

Nancy: just fake it

Teddy: Everyone’ll buy it

Nancy: People love love 😒

Teddy: Give me lust any day

Nancy: at least that only makes you act like an arsehole for a night

Nancy: it’s totally acceptable to be a terrible person when you’re in love

Teddy: It’ll be harder to fake, especially with your cousin

Teddy: she’s not making me feel lustful in the slightest

Nancy: You can’t think of someone else? Your girlfriend?

Nancy: not like she’s a complete virgin, it’ll feel good

Teddy: I’ve already got someone in mind, I’ll make it work

Nancy: You’re a trooper

Nancy: it’ll be me that has no choice but to think about it

Teddy: You’ll have a puppy to distract you, think about that

Nancy: Sounds dodgy, I’m not that much of a degenerate 

Teddy: Wholesome family fun only, thank you

Nancy: Now he wants 😇

Teddy: I like to keep you having to learn new tricks, naturally

Nancy: If you DARE complete that phrase…

Teddy: ?? 🤔

Teddy: what phrase would that be?

Nancy: 👩‍🦳🐶 was heavily implied but if the words actually leave your mouth/keyboard

Teddy: You’re not that old or that much of a bitch

Nancy: Ha ha, you’re so criminally unfunny

Teddy: Creative way to keep your lights on if you intend to fine me by the word from now on

Nancy: I���ve had worse ideas, today and every other

Teddy: But you detest censorship, Nance

Nancy: It’s possible I hate being called old more

Teddy: I didn’t call you anything of the sort

Nancy: not THAT old means I am some old

Teddy: Only older than I am, no more

Nancy: That’s nothing, when I fuck your dad we can talk about age gaps

Teddy: When you fuck my dad we’ll have a lot to say to each other

Nancy: The stepmother fantasy is just having a discussion

Teddy: I’m sorry, does your fantasy involve a gag?

Teddy: this is why we require some discussion first

Nancy: 😅 you’re ridiculous

Teddy: I like to talk, I don’t think you appreciate how much her grating accent is going to put me off

Nancy: You DO want to Eliza Doolittle her

Nancy: you can talk all you like, just keep her quiet

Teddy: I’ll try

Nancy: Good boy, I have faith

Teddy: 👼☁️

Nancy: 🛐

Teddy: 💕💒💞

Nancy: She so would

Teddy: Who could blame her? She can’t do better than me

Nancy: So true

Teddy: But it’s too big of a reach that I’d 💍 when it’s going to seem implausible me liking her as much as I’m about to fake I do

Nancy: Imagine everyone’s reactions though

Teddy: I’m stuck imagining her outfit

Nancy: imagine mine

Teddy: It’d be worth it for that

Nancy: What would it take

Teddy: What would you really wear?

Nancy: Whatever you want because you’d not ever get to the 💒

Teddy: Would you do whatever I want if I did that for you?

Nancy: Yes

Teddy: Okay, I will

Nancy: It’s horrid of you to tease if you don’t mean it, you know how badly I want it

Teddy: I mean it, no teasing

Nancy: You’ll let her think you love her?

Teddy: Yeah, I’ll make her believe I do

Nancy: That you want to spend the rest of your life with her

Teddy: Somehow

Nancy: I’ll help you

Teddy: She’ll want it to be true, that’s half the battle won 

Nancy: No one can blame her

Teddy: & rushing down the aisle as if we’re being coerced is what my family does best

Nancy: Hers too, she’s only childless by God’s will

Teddy: I don’t even need to be careful, you seriously have given me a gift

Nancy: she’s so lucky ☹️

Teddy: But you’re so much more fuckable, she’ll never be that

Nancy: You’re going to have to cum all over my body so you don’t breed me by accident

Teddy: I’m going to have to think about you to cum anywhere near her

Nancy: She can thank me for how many loads you sink into her

Teddy: She’s lucky to have you, we both are

Nancy: I told you I was a matchmaker

Teddy: I’m sorry I doubted you

Nancy: You’ve promised a lot that means all will be forgiven

Nancy: even if you don’t go through with it, right now I’m so wet it doesn’t matter

Teddy: I’m going through with all of it

Nancy: I will fuck [that random gal] with you, anything, remember

Teddy: I can’t remember a single thing about her right now

Nancy: I’m not mad about it

Teddy: I’m mad at you

Nancy: Why?

Teddy: All I can think about is how wet you are

Nancy: you’re entirely to blame

Teddy: & I so badly want to take FULL responsibility for it

Nancy: the sooner you work on her, the quicker you can claim what you’re doing to me

Teddy: ASAP, you heard me say so

Nancy: she’ll want you that bad, however stupid it makes her look

Teddy: However stupid she is, I’ll make her look more

Nancy: Your name sounds so good being fucked out of me, fyi

Teddy: Imagine yours, how loud I’m going to want to moan it every time I fuck her

Nancy: you can come next door, when she’s asleep

Teddy: I’ll put her to sleep so fast 🧸

Nancy: 🍼🍼

Teddy: You’ll never be bored again

Nancy: fuck it, marry her so we can use her

Teddy: I would

Nancy: You’re so fucked up

Teddy: She can look after any babies I accidentally give you

Nancy: condoms are a crime

Teddy: They take all the fun out of it

Nancy: I want her to drink your cum from me, badly

Teddy: She’ll do whatever either of us tell her to

Nancy: like a good wifey

Teddy: That makes you my mistress

Nancy: I think you need that

Teddy: How many married men have you slept with?

Nancy: [a number, at least a guesstimate] 

Nancy: I want what’s not mine

Teddy: But what if I am yours?

Nancy: Teddy

Teddy: More than I’m hers, or anyone’s

Nancy: I’m not stupid, that’s why I take men other women think they own

Teddy: You’re insanely clever

Nancy: as long as you could be with anyone, I want you, I want everything you think about

Teddy: Why did you ask me to do this? How did you know I would?

Nancy: because you don’t pretend you don’t get a kick out of humiliating people too, at parties, when people stop themselves from laughing, you don’t

Teddy: When did you notice any of that about me? You’re always in the middle of everything

Nancy: Probably the last time I got kicked out of a party for being the bitch who took it too far, you looked at me, I knew you got it

Teddy: I wanted to go with you, but you weren’t alone, you never are

Nancy: Lonely people never are

Nancy: you would’ve fucked me better than whoever was

Teddy: I’ve looked at you during every party, for longer than I’ve had any sort of idea what to do with

Nancy: how fuckable you are is a problem, was

Teddy: You make me feel like I can take it further, everyone else is constantly trying to stop me

Nancy: It isn’t far enough, I want to never know what’s coming next, what we can get away with

Teddy: When we pull this off, we’ll be able to get away with anything

Nancy: boys like you deserve to get away with every fucked up scheme girls like me put in their heads

Teddy: I’d fucking marry you so nobody could force me to say a word to incriminate you, you know

Nancy: Jesus, silence the witnesses with me

Teddy: Everyone in this city, they’ll all be watching us

Nancy: Infamous, pay them all off

Teddy: I’m going to withdraw my entire trust fund to fuck you on top of it

Nancy: You want to marry your whore

Teddy: I want you to want it, I don’t care about her

Nancy: No one wants what they have, have the balls to take me

Teddy: You’re going to fucking love me

Nancy: Fuck, fuck!

Teddy: Nancy

Nancy: Tell me how it feels

Teddy: Your name feels like a high, getting to have it in my mouth

Nancy: Hers isn’t enough like mine, is it

Teddy: I’ll have to call her darling

Nancy: I’ll know it’s for me, like I knew what you wanted

Teddy: I’ll be talking to you, everything you can hear

Nancy: Convince her to have a threesome with me

Teddy: How are you going to convince her you don’t love me?

Nancy: Easy

Teddy: How are you going to stop yourself from saying yes to me when I propose to her?

Nancy: I’ll shove the nearest dick in my mouth, yours or otherwise

Teddy: Come ring shopping with me too

Nancy: You want to see it on my finger first

Teddy: Put the dress on when she buys one, ruin the surprise for me, give her all the bad luck

Nancy: Will you last to fuck me in it?

Teddy: I have to

Nancy: in the church, I need it

Teddy: Me too

Nancy: You’re only allowed to do it one way in the house of God though

Teddy: I want it to be true, so it is

Nancy: You shouldn’t be so much fun, I wanna ruin you

Teddy: You shouldn’t want to, which means you have to do it

Nancy: Promise I will

Teddy: I’m going to cum if you promise me things

Nancy: If you cum I promise I’ll think about it all day, do nothing else

Teddy: Oh Nance, I can imagine you thinking so hard

Nancy: It already hurts

Teddy: Darling

Nancy: darling

Teddy: I promise I’ll make you feel better soon

Nancy: It can’t come soon enough

Teddy: I’ll do nothing else but dedicate myself to taking care of your every whim

Nancy: You have to make her love you first

Teddy: I will, I can do that in a day

Nancy: 🎣

Teddy: 🏹💘

Nancy: Cupid is too niche a pet name 

Teddy: Nothing is too niche

Teddy: but if you don’t like it, I’ll use it as my costume for your birthday party instead

Nancy: You have to now

Teddy: Call me whatever you want

Nancy: I have to

Nancy: even if in private for a while

Teddy: No censorship & no rules at your place

Teddy: in private everything goes

Nancy: and will, be why I don’t have a roommate anymore

Teddy: You must come over to my house sometime

Nancy: That’s such a thoughtful offer

Teddy: You can help me break my parents up

Nancy: As you’ve done all the hard work, you should get some help with the final nail in the coffin

Nancy: You’re all grown up now, why do they need to be together?

Teddy: II’s a wannabe tyrant, a second family would be more fit for purpose

Nancy: Who doesn’t love getting it right the second time ‘round 

Teddy: Like he doesn’t have grandchildren for that

Nancy: Only your sisters, that aren’t infected with Woodall-James crazy

Teddy: G’s could come out as fossils, who knows?

Nancy: At least they won’t be mutants like my brothers 🤷‍♀️

Teddy: Tainted is tainted, but it’s real old school royal of him to want to keep the bloodline pure

Nancy: I don’t know if there’s anything pure about it, he just can’t get his dick hard for anyone else now, apparently

Teddy: Old school romantic then

Nancy: Every man in my family has this weird strain of obsession 

Nancy: I don’t think my dad likes anyone but my mum, us included

Teddy: Understandable if the women are like you, I fully intend to ignore all our accidental children in favour of you

Nancy: 😏

Nancy: Accident I, II, III etc IS the only acceptable use of Roman numerals when it comes to naming

Teddy: I don’t know, I’d call a daughter yours because I like saying it so much

Nancy: She’ll be very confused, in a fun way though

Teddy: Her mother too if she isn’t you

Nancy: Just tell her how long you’ve been looking for me

Teddy: I can’t get into the habit of talking about you to people

Nancy: 👿

Teddy: It’ll out me 

Nancy: Right, practice having her name in your mouth instead

Teddy: 🥺💔 it will take insane amounts of practice, true

Nancy: at least looking 🥺 is going to work in your favour

Teddy: 🐶🍼 is going to remind you of me, you’ll wish you were a deviant 

Nancy: I won’t need reminding, she follows me everywhere

Teddy: I can’t blame her

Nancy: 🐤🐤

Nancy: I’m going to be there every step of the way

Teddy: Except when I’m throwing ☕️ at her, a wise move 

Nancy: Some bits she’s going to want to be just you two

Nancy: but rest assured I’ll get the rundown after 💋

Teddy: Hers & mine

Nancy: I’m too intrigued by yours

Teddy: I love to kiss & tell 

Nancy: Tell me more about when you hooked up with [that one boy we also did]

Teddy: [do that because lord knows truly, I’m sure it was messy af]

Nancy: God 💀

Teddy: How many similarities are there?

Nancy: Not enough, I should call him

Teddy: We should fuck him together too

Nancy: it’s a must

Nancy: whenever she has to go home, whoever we choose

Teddy: [suggest some peeps that either you wanna again or you haven’t yet but you wanna]

Nancy: [add to that list in a similar fashion because you are that bitch]

Teddy: 🏹💘

Nancy: I’m helping her pack… what do you want to see her wear?

Teddy: Anything of yours that you’ve donated to her

Nancy: as it doesn’t matter to me if it gets coffee stains on it now

Teddy: I’ll buy her a new outfit, allow her the Pretty Woman scene, if you like it, keep it

Nancy: Of course you’re the perfect gentleman so you won’t let her ‘repay’ you straight away

Teddy: Naturally 💝🧸💐

Nancy: Where are you taking her shopping?

Teddy: [Somewhere expensive af obvs]?

Nancy: You’re getting this so right

Teddy: Then [again somewhere boujee] for [whatever time meal it would be whether that’s brunch or lunch or dinner]

Nancy: 🎰🤑😍 her

Teddy: 🍸? Or would it be unbearable? I can see from her socials she’s a liability

Nancy: I would make that your second date, makes you look good, you don’t have to rebuff her and send her off in a car

Teddy: Great idea

Nancy: No shame spiral for her, however much of a hot mess a martini would make her

Teddy: I’ll need Absinthe personally

Nancy: Poor boy

Nancy: I will commiserate in your honour

Teddy: Thank you, darling 💚

Nancy: At [a bar we’re saying is too cool for Grace, clearly, like y’all will not be there but I will]

Teddy: Perhaps I’ll see you there once she’s gone back home

Nancy: I could accuse you of being a tease there

Teddy: I didn’t dangle the promise of perhaps bringing the rugby team, which would potentially warrant the accusation

Nancy: But but 😿

Teddy: I’m not sure how I’d feel about sharing you with that many boys at the same time

Nancy: You already made it obvious you don’t like it when you can’t get my attention

Teddy: Maybe if we split them up into smaller groups

Nancy: You are so cute

Nancy: Strategize, nerd

Teddy: I’m not the kind of nerd to say no outright

Nancy: Work out how you feel about it

Nancy: I might still do it either way, depends how I feel

Teddy: I won’t know for certain unless we do it

Nancy: When’s the last time you had a real girlfriend?

Teddy: Define a real girlfriend for me

Nancy: Hm, okay

Nancy: lasted longer than three months, you did things outside the bedroom together, you would’ve been pissed off if she slept with someone else whilst you were sleeping together

Teddy: 🤔 [the girl she asked him if he was still seeing earlier, because that makes logical sense]

Nancy: yeah, I thought so

Teddy: What are you getting at?

Nancy: Nothing, just curious

Nancy: some guys haven’t had a real relationship by your age

Teddy: Okay, when was yours?

Nancy: [lowkey a while ago by this point, idk how long but long enough ‘cos we’re a mess and isn’t how we’ve been rolling]

Teddy: You’re going to fall for me SO hard

Nancy: No, I’m not

Teddy: Prove it

Nancy: Can only do that over time, can’t I?

Teddy: You’ll prove me right almost immediately

Nancy: I’m sure that’s what you’re used to

Teddy: 👑🤴🏼

Nancy: I don’t do love, I’ll never give you what you want

Teddy: You’ll do it for me

Nancy: Can’t stop you trying in vain

Teddy: & you won’t be able to stop yourself from giving in

Nancy: Maybe I’ll fake it if you make me feel really bad for you

Teddy: I’m not Grace, I’ll be able to tell

Nancy: Why do you want it?

Teddy: Because you don’t want me to have it

Nancy: A good reason 

Teddy: Only you & my father say no to me, he’ll be out of the picture soon which leaves just you

Nancy: Would your mother leave him, if I had a blatant enough affair with him?

Teddy: It would have to be unsweepundertherugable, they both adore the pretence everything is fine

Nancy: 🤔

Nancy: I could find someone, leave your wife worthy

Teddy: Do it, you have my green light

Nancy: Too bad Ava didn’t set her sights older

Teddy: A missed trick

Nancy: Do you think your mother will get a new family?

Teddy: She’s too old, what would she do, adopt some orphans?

Nancy: Maybe she’ll get a toyboy, with some kids on the weekends

Teddy: Good for her

Nancy: Okay, you’ve proved the whole step-mother thing isn’t THAT real 

Teddy: It isn’t a step-father thing, but if he’s hot, maybe

Nancy: lots of guys cry if you imply their mother ever liked getting dicked down

Teddy: Well, there must be some reason she’s stayed with II

Nancy: Not cash?

Teddy: She has her own, he’d never marry poor, darling, that’s beneath him

Teddy: her maiden name is [something that’s lowkey a flex, how rich people do and have heard of each other]

Nancy: You look so much like her brother [whichever one if multiple or just your uncles name, not you implying you’ve fucked this man whether you have or have not lmao]

Teddy: I know

Nancy: II weirdly missing in your DNA

Teddy: The relief is PROFOUND, I hold out hope she had her own affair whenever he’s being especially difficult 

Nancy: yeah, it’s devastating being a twin, can’t have those sort of adoption hopes when he’s the spit

Teddy: Who do you look like?

Nancy: My mad auntie who used to live in the attic

Teddy: Oh no, that IS devastating  

Nancy: We didn’t forget to feed her

Teddy: In that case, I can trust you with puppy duties

Nancy: I’ll employ someone

Teddy: Bill me for whoever

Nancy: maybe my cleaner has a sister, that would be cute

Nancy: the actual devastation lies in that I’m not as skinny as my auntie, which is the whole point so that’s depressing

Teddy: You’re too hot to be depressed

Nancy: I like that you mean that, however flippantly

Teddy: There’s nothing flippant about how much I’ve looked at you, I’ve covered every angle

Nancy: Almost every angle

Teddy: Imagination is being forced to count for a lot

Nancy: I’m more and more tempted to show you

Teddy: [send her a pic of you to try and tempt her more]

Nancy: Your imagination is better

Teddy: I don’t believe you

Nancy: For what I can do? No

Nancy: I never said it looks pretty

Teddy: I’m saying it

Nancy: My cousin is going to be the delusional one, remember

Teddy: Yeah, she is

Teddy: you’re a knockout, Nance

Nancy: Shut up, I already want to fuck you

Teddy: I can’t resist you

Nancy: but you have to

Teddy: But I’m allowed to look

Nancy: She won’t suspect you

Teddy: Show me, she won’t know

Nancy: well, what do you want to see?

Teddy: Everything

Nancy: Okay

Teddy: If you DARE tease me, you have to mean it, how badly I want it

Nancy: I mean it, I just want you to want it more

Teddy: You really mean, with every passing day I’ll want it more & you plan to torture me

Nancy: Yes

Nancy: it’s only fair, think how tortured I’m going to be

Teddy: You know what those thoughts will do to me

Nancy: what I want to do to you

Teddy: Nancy, it isn’t fair

Nancy: I can hear how that would sound

Teddy: [a shameless voice note]

Nancy: Jesus, you sound illegal

Teddy: It should be, what we’re going to do to each other

Nancy: Once we’re found out, it will be

Teddy: You’re one of the only taboo things left in this city, forbidden to me

Nancy: I have to be stronger, deny you longer

Teddy: No you don’t, please don’t

Nancy: won’t it feel good, when you’re finally allowed

Teddy: I have to have you

Nancy: You have to have Grace first

Teddy: But I don’t have to be gracious about it

Nancy: Once you’ve spent lots of time at mine, hanging out with us together but never alone with me

Teddy: You’re evil & I’m obsessed

Nancy: 😈 trumps 😇

Nancy: I can’t wait to ‘forget’ you’re around and forget to wear clothes

Teddy: I can’t wait to leave the bathroom door unlocked when I 🚿

Nancy: It is my place, I can go where I want, when I want

Teddy: Come to mine when you want the sq ft to get lost

Nancy: What for, if anyone finds me?

Teddy: I’ll find you, not just anyone will

Nancy: Sounds like a trap

Teddy: It is

Nancy: Perfect

Teddy: & our own private maze

Nancy: Sometimes I just need to leave the real world, for a while

Teddy: Alice can be your codename, if I can’t shut up about you 🐇

Nancy: There are so many options for you, pick a famous fictional 🐻

Teddy: Pick Paddington, people will assume you’re referring to the place & are now 🤓 into [something you can do there, London hates me so idk, we’re being shady here because he loves to make fun of everything that isn’t super boujee/tourists as does anyone who lives somewhere]

Nancy: 😏 You’re talking yourself into some excellent costumes here

Teddy: It’s a firm second AFTER Cupid

Nancy: My birthday my choice, thank you

Teddy: I’ve got time to give you plenty of others

Nancy: I imagine you’ll be in a couples costume, how fast you think you can pull this off

Teddy: True, how disappointing 

Nancy: You have doubts about her imagination?

Teddy: It’ll work if I’m Cupid & she’s my victim, less so if she’s attempting the goddess of love

Nancy: the 😍 are free

Nancy: I haven’t decided what I want her to go as yet, I always dress her

Teddy: [take a sec to discuss your faves from previous years, Nancy’s costumes obvs not Grace’s lol]

Nancy: You’re such a stalker, get off my feed 😘

Teddy: When I can stalk you IRL & not a moment before

Nancy: Not tonight, you have to focus

Teddy: Oh come on, Nance

Teddy: you sound like one of our teachers & not in a hot way

Nancy: I’m not telling you where I’m going, I didn’t say you had to stay in and 🛐

Teddy: It’s blatant where you’re going

Nancy: Is it

Teddy: [3 places she always goes as his 3 guesses, calling you predictable there gal lol]

Nancy: Well I won’t be now 😠

Teddy: Why be vexed I know where you are?

Nancy: You know why

Teddy: This city has a handful of places to be seen in, that’s it

Nancy: And I can’t risk being seen with you

Teddy: We can be seen together, we’re practically in-laws

Teddy: don’t stay in on my account

Nancy: I know places, don’t trouble yourself

Nancy: if you think we can be seen together you severely underestimate how I’m feeling currently

Teddy: You overestimate everyone who would catch a glimpse of us before we found a place to be alone together

Nancy: You told me to go out, I intend to

Teddy: Tell me where you want to go & I’ll buy it out, floor to ceiling not just VIP, we can have it to ourselves

Nancy: You’re really getting into character, aren’t you

Teddy: OR this is who I am

Nancy: Yeah, right

Teddy: Don’t be a hater, love me

Nancy: I’ll use you, just like everyone else

Teddy: Do it better than everyone else or you’re not trying

Nancy: you can send me the money and I’ll buy myself nice things instead

Teddy: [do that rn immediately like it’s nbd because it is to you]

Teddy: 😘

Nancy: I’ll show you when I’ve spent it all

Teddy: I’m giving you [a length of time like it’s a challenge] to spend it all

Nancy: Easy

Nancy: later, you can just give me your account details, watch the 💸

Teddy: Okay

Nancy: [show him that it’s gone because lord knows you can waste money babe]

Teddy: [Give her those account deets because it’s not your money and you don’t care, only as much as you’re obvs into how fast she can spend it]

Nancy: [immediately spend more to get the point across]

Nancy: You’re still going to have enough to fuck me on, right?

Teddy: The trust fund’s 21, are you still going to be leading me on by then?

Nancy: You’d still want it if I was

Teddy: I’m not denying that, but you’re not a tease, you’re going to struggle through every minute you have to hold out on me

Nancy: and I’m not denying that

Teddy: We could have 2 children by then too, follow in my big brother’s footsteps

Nancy: A lot more, they didn’t fuck at all

Teddy: & you have a lot of twins in your family

Nancy: You aren’t giving any consideration to how wrecked I would be but that’s okay

Teddy: I’ll pay to fix you 💸

Nancy: to ruin me all again

Teddy: Continuously

[serenaoculis]

Instrument of Surrender

// a short disco elysium narration i wrote for fun // wanted to put it somewhere and this seems like a good place so uhhh text be upon ye tumblr users // spoilers btw, not for the story of disco elysium or its characters but its setting

Cold air hits your face as you exit the building. The wind blows through the streets, entering and exiting bullet holes and broken boards lining up the walls of Martinaise. Around you, the cold grey of peeled walls and metal machines reflects the clouds in the sad winter sky above. The world towers above you, reaching far towards every side. You feel like an ant lost in an abandoned building.

Shivers [Easy - Success]: The winter sun shines above the former capital of the world, casting light that warms enough for living things to be, but not for them to be happy about any of it. In a giant crater of concrete and eternite, a man hangs from a tree behind a cafeteria. His face is bloated beyond recognition, his name about to be forgotten by history. Before him, stands his living incarnation: the sad, shambling corpse of a dying drunk. Just like the corpse before him, he has forgotten every sliver of who he is. Just like the corpse before him, he stands defenseless, naked and disarmed, before a world that has shown nothing but misery to his half-shut eyes. The streets around and the skies above hold nothing for either of them. This is where their stories end.

Perception [Trivial - Success]: The stench of death crawls up your lips and into your nose, briefly interrupting the smell of your intoxicating breath and your unwashed clothes. It smells familiar. And as foul as it could ever be.

Pain Threshold [Godly - Failure]: Your insides burn and sting. Your muscles feel rusty and old, like your face, having drunk themselves to oblivion. You're about to throw up...

Endurance [Challenging - Success]: Something about the burn feels familiar to you, like you've felt this way a thousand times before. Your throat softens and cools. This smell is one of the few things you can remember.

You loudly breathe in through your mouth. The cold winter air grazes your acid-burnt throat, making it sting like disinfectant on an open wound. A visible cloud of warm air comes out of your mouth. For a few seconds, it lingers, and then dissipates into the air like water in the sea.

Logic [Trivial - Success]: This is what you're here for. A man was killed, and it is your job to figure out the who, how, and why.

Composure [Challenging - Success]: Don't panic. It's just a hanged body. Whatever in it could hurt you, it's long gone now.

Volition [Godly - Success]: You're a detective. You've solved more cases than you can remember. You can handle this.

You: Yeah, that's the thing. I don't remember *any of them*. I don't remember anything.

Volition: Oh, come on. You can at least remember who you are.

Encyclopedia [Trivial - Failure]: Actually, what even was that about being a police detective?

Electrochemistry: Look at yourself. Do you *think* you were a police detective? This is the body of a superstar past his prime. You're here to get drunk and nothing else.

Drama: In other words: You've been fooled, sire. This is all an elaborate ruse.

Authority [Easy - Success]: Oh, come on. There is no way you actually believe that. A man is hanging before you and you think you're a washed up celebrity? You are the Law.

Esprit De Corps [Medium - Success]: Besides, your partner here isn't the type to play those games. If anything, he's exasperated *you* can't get it together and do your job.

- [Inland Empire - Medium 10] If I am a policeman, what is everything else? -

Inland Empire [Medium - Success]: Cold wind howls through a tube. The walls and buildings look at you. Brimming and sick with life, meeting the universe we tried to warn you about, you ask what the place you stand amidst of even is?

Encyclopedia [Easy - Success]: It has a name. Inferno.

Inland Empire: You are dead. The body before you is a mirror, a reflection of what you looked like in the earth of mankind. The burning spirits within you were too much for your body to uphold. Your soul was too heavy to bear. Your body gave in.

Endurance [Challenging - Failure]: Considering the state you're in, that's a more reasonable explanation than you would want.

Shivers: The universe is freezing cold. It's entirely colourless. It's loud and overbearing. An abandoned fortress of a town towers above any one person living in it, frozen in a time when fighting for its control was a worthwhile cause. Holes riddle its walls and broken paths bridge its streets. The water freezes. The people walk roads they've walked a thousand times before. Nothing will change here. There is nothing left for anyone.

Visual Calculus [Challenging - Success]: The cracks and gaps you've seen in the floor and walls are unnatural in structure. They were left there by war. This place has been bombed and shot more times than you can count or see, at least from where you're standing right now.

Logic [Easy - Success]: Which means there was once a reason to fight over what was here.

Conceptualisation [Medium - Success]: And now, all that's left of that determination and ire is one man, hanging from a tree.

Inland Empire: This place, likewise, is dead too. A grave of lost hopes and a past that lost its luster a long time ago, under artillery fire. A prisoner of war that escaped his captors by escaping the world. You are standing on the corpse of what once was.

Inland Empire: The streets are almost empty. Wind blows through the void keeping buildings apart, as if grazing the bell of a trumpet or the cannon of a rifle. A familiar note is produced: it is the one Surrender plays to announce its defeat.

Empathy: The city before you wails in song. It's trying to remember the time it lived, the time it shined bright and hopeful amidst all living things. It's trying to remember the days of disco.

Conceptualisation: You do not simply *feel* like an ant lost in an abandoned building. You are. You are the only living thing to walk these streets in a thousand years, and yet, they will forget you as fast as they forgot themselves. You are nothing to the universe before you. You are simply *in* it, moving pebbles and leaves around until it all becomes dust scattering in the wind.

Empathy: You've been put on this world to feel pity for it.

Shivers: And if it cared enough, it would feel pity for you.

Volition [Impossible - Failure]: There is nothing left to do. Go home. Don't look back.

You: "So what now?"

Kim: "We should probably start by getting the body down."

[umbrastag]

Empty Hallways

< A written blurb for my OC Vale Merris >

< Pre-Dragonflight, Beginning-Shadowlands >

| Violence, Death, and Horror ahead writing-wise |

The Isle was shrouded by an unnatural fog that blended well with the Kul'Tiran landscape of Stormsong. Despite the strangeness of the fog, no one ventured to this isle, no one knew the island was there at this point. The ever-dim area resembled Duskwood's own seemingly permanent darkness, the sounds within were that of people. Individuals from all over Azeroth concealed by their leader's power and mastery of the Void. There were other added magics to help mask the gathering of a small mass of followers and the Void that was present within. Their numbers were steadily growing, the cult of the Shepherd holding more followers these days than anything else. Linda, a Lamb who led the followers in her master's stead hurried across the stone circle in the middle of the water on the island. Four statues rose up in various poses, crudely carved but, the image was clear. A tall humanoid figure with six eyes, a hood, and horns protruding from the sides of the head. Down into the caves that lead beneath the isle to the east, hurrying down the wooden steps into a yawning cavern lit only by purple fires in their torches posted along the walls. The currently human man, stood in the center watching as the walls carved with intricate shath'yar text rotated. A rhythmic grinding meeting the woman's ears. She moved quickly to his side, carefully shifting around the moving pieces till she came to the center standing next to her Shepherd. He stood still, quiet with various markings along his skin that burned deep into the soul. An attempt was to be made today, it was the culmination of his years of study and utter devotion to the primordial force that 'saved' him. The Shepherd was going to attempt to ascend himself into the realm of being a minor entity of which, would be no easy feat even with the madness he endured and the lessons he learned. Secluded after learning a final lesson, years away and months gone leaving the world to continue onward as he cared for his flock.

"And it is...Here I shall see if I am ready...For there is no other desire I have than to be totally whole with the Void. I will be of...Far better use when I make it to this next stage."

His smooth voice rang out, carrying over the din of the churning stone formations that began to thud into place. His six eyes looked out, somewhere beyond. Linda had seen the way he'd been the last few months, he was more distant and she saw an important transition happen for his psyche. The mortal mindset had been resolved, his mind set on the immortal perspective that loomed ahead. It was ominous to see the change, the coldness of it, and how his calculative mind eased into it all. She knew now that he had truly been hollowed out. He had become...Her emerald eyes watched on. She had been through his journey with him, watched him go from emotional to silent and dark. Empty

"... It's time."

His voice, ethereal now disturbed her thoughts and she peered up at him. His many eyes watched her, a clawed hand gesturing her away.

"Keep the vessel ready...Should I succeed...It will truly be the only thing anchoring me to this plane of existence."

"Of course...My Shepherd." Linda stepped back to her designated area watching as the room halted its shifting. The Shepherd raised his clawed hands, power erupting from him like a dam that broke, and the room was plunged into darkness before the runes in the walls erupted into a purple light. The sound of each wall ground anew, he felt the command that was asked of him and it was total...Surrender. He had to take the leap to leave the body so the Void could reshape the soul into something else. He was no longer afraid like he had in the past, the room's stone walls erupted and crumbled revealing the Void beyond. Starry, cosmic skies with darkened planets and brilliant colors. The cosmic beams that erupted from his hooded being burned the runes etched into the vessel's skin, gritting his fangs together before the body slumped and crumbled to the centerpiece on which he stood. The soul was drawn outwards, instead of being pulled to the beyond. It was so riddled with Void, that the force easily made purchases beginning to warp and change what remained. Though the stone was gone, the sound of grinding could be heard echoing even still. Linda watched with amazement though she had to shield her mind from the very raw connection to the Void here. She covered her ears, tears streaming down her face as she writhed along the odd watery surface. She didn't know what all happened after that but, when she came back into herself mentally she was surrounded by darkness. Familiar, many maws gnashing and glowing eyes took everything in while a few watched her. She looked almost terrified, the aura of her Shepherd changed. "We will return to the vessel...and prepare ourselves to return to those who remain in the Eastern Kingdoms. We are called to prepare...And to wait."

Linda bowed, knowing he had succeded but, at what cost? Clearly, he would not think as she or the others did. She would need to be his grounding rod for mortal thinking in the future she figured. "Of course...Shepherd. I will watch the flock in your stead." When she looked up, everything was silent and...She was above ground...

[sanddusted-wisteria]

Empty Skies, Hazy Skyboxes, Ch. 3

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Also on AO3

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Qi and the builder sat on the swinging bench in the yard that Qi so meticulously recreated earlier that day, watching the sun dip behind the distant mountains. Everything was perfectly still, except for the two of them. No sounds of the desert, no evening breeze…the bench couldn’t even swing, it was just a static model.

“So you’ve been alone out there for…?”

“Almost a year. I haven’t been keeping track of time as of late.”

“A year…” the builder echoed, lost in thought. “How, um… How did I…die?”

Qi frowned. “I don’t want to burden you with that information.” That, and he didn’t want to dredge up what he was thinking and feeling that terrible day.

“No, it’s okay. I can handle it.” They met his eyes with a familiar spark of determination. “Tell me.”

Qi felt something shift in his chest. He would always be weak against those eyes. “...The Civil Corps made a foolish gambit to try and catch the bandit Logan. They wanted to lure his goat and see if it would lead you to the bandits’ hideout. They managed to find it, but…” He swallowed. “Then… the goat was frightened, I suppose, and it leapt off the cliff. You were chasing it on horseback, but the horse lost control and…” He felt his throat tighten. He couldn’t say it.

The builder only nodded, silently pressing him to go on.

“I barely remember what happened after the sheriff told me. I tried desperately not to think about your nonexistent odds of survival. That, and how…how scared you must’ve been. But my mind betrayed me.” His hands clenched. “I had no idea what to do or what to feel. So I just went back to work, on instinct.”

“You didn’t even give yourself a chance to process everything?” the builder said, voice rising with worry.

Qi averted his eyes. “I was deliberately avoiding it. I couldn’t stand still for a moment lest anything remind me of the…reality of things.”

The builder’s face fell. “How long without sleep this time?” They knew him too well.

“Somewhere between 3 to 4 days.” The most he’d ever gone. They winced.

“Sleep deprivation is a form of torture, honey.”

“I know.”

“Even one night without sleep can mess with your body…”

“I know.”

“...And with your emotional state, it would make things way worse…”

“I know.”

“...Plus, messing up your circadian rhythms throws your hormones off balance… Melatonin, cortisol…”

“I kn—wait, how do you know that?”

The builder blinked. “Huh? Oh, that info’s pretty easy for me to look up…”

Right. The system’s mysterious library of information. Qi would have liked to investigate it, maybe even try to find its source, if only it wasn’t actively interfering with the builder’s behavior. He made a note to fix the AI later. “Er…never mind. I am getting more regular sleep nowadays, at least.”

“I hope so. Please don’t tell me you passed out while you were experimenting with battery acid or something.”

“N-no, thankfully. I was just drawing diagrams.”

The builder breathed a sigh of relief, nodding. Not knowing what to say, silence fell on the two of them. It wasn’t the comfortable silence that he could share for hours on end with the builder over a good article and tea. Without the natural ambience of the builder’s yard—the clatter, hum, and whir of machines, the open air, the grumbling of the wild yakmel beyond the fence—it felt incredibly eerie. Unnatural.

Qi fidgeted. The builder hadn’t asked him what happened after his denial-induced mania—his complete shutdown, time becoming meaningless as he languished in bed, Mint trying his best to keep him alive. A part of him instinctively wanted to keep it concealed, to keep himself protected. But another part wanted to tell them. He always let them know how he felt about things, even long before they fell in love. They deserved to know this.

His internal debate was broken by the rumbling of his stomach. “Hm. I should be heading out. I need to eat something,” he said, thankful for the distraction.

“You wanna grab it and come back here?”

“Oh! Yes, that sounds nice.” He’d almost forgotten how much he missed the simple pleasure of talking to them over dinner. “I’ll be right back, then.”

Qi leaned over to give them a quick hug goodbye. Instead of his arm falling over their shoulder, it went straight through. He lurched to the side with a yelp, almost falling off his chair.

“You okay?!” The builder seemed more alarmed at Qi’s reaction than the fact that he just clipped clean through their body.

“I’m alright,” Qi said, righting himself. “I forgot that our models have no collision with each other.” That, and there was nothing but empty space to his side.

“Ahh. Well, I don’t think you can change that, unfortunately. Shame. I always liked your hugs.”

“Mm. Well, regardless, I’ll be back.” Qi set the headset down on his desk and headed out, trying to ignore the pang of longing in his heart.

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

One hasty trip to the saloon later, and Qi was back. He opened the to-go box and set it on the desk. Putting the headset back on, he saw that the builder had already gone back inside. He moved to their dinner table, where the builder was patiently waiting for him.

“Whatcha got out there?”

“Oh, just some sand tea noodles. Take-out from the saloon.”

“Still can’t cook, huh?”

“No, still haven’t had the time to learn.”

“I always wondered how you ate before we started dating. Did you just…straight up eat raw veggies every day?”

“No! …Sometimes I would commission someone to prepare meals for me.”

“...And every other day you ate raw veggies.”

“Er, yes… Yes, some days I would only eat raw produce for every meal.”

“Honey.”

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

“...Then he demanded that I get it all done by tomorrow. And then he nearly knocked one of my algae samples off the shelf when he left.”

“Ugh, Yan…”

“Not to worry, though. I have a tactic for…difficult customers like him.”

“Ooh, shady dealings. Never pegged you the type.”

“Tomorrow, I will simply tell him that all 50 of the data disks he gave me were duds. Mind you, most of them were actually perfectly fine. That way, not only do I buy more time for the diagrams, I get more data disks for free, and most importantly, I get the satisfaction of seeing him run around wasting time gathering more disks.”

The builder burst out laughing. “Seriously?! You’re gonna hustle him?!”

Qi shrugged. “Of course. It’s not like he can object, can he? Where else could he get his diagrams from?”

“He definitely deserves it.”

“Oh, yes. For all that he’s put you and the other builders through, he deserves some comeuppance. That, and I still haven’t forgiven him for forcing me to pay double for his terrible, faulty switchboards.”

“Ohhh, so that’s why you were always requesting those…”

“Yes, and I’m eternally grateful that you manufactured them to a much higher standard of quality. …He hasn’t been causing you trouble lately, has he? If he has, I’ll be sure to waste as much of his time as I can.”

“Oh, uh…” The builder scratched their head with a sheepish grin. “He can’t really…do anything to me now, remember?”

Qi was suddenly aware of the headset digging into the bridge of his nose. “Ah. Right. I forgot. Apologies.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” the builder said, their eyes still unsure and unfocused.

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

“Waitwaitwait, but who took the arm?”

“You’ll never guess who it was…”

“Who??”

“It was Sleepyhead! He was at the store getting parts for it but he fell asleep in the back storehouse!”

“Sleepyhead…?”

“Eh—Sleepyhead. Mint. My childhood friend? Engineer? Narcoleptic? I did tell you about him, right?”

“Maybe…? Must’ve forgotten, sorry.”

“I-It’s alright. Hm, that reminds me, I need to write him back soon.”

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

“Y’know what I miss? Stargazing.”

“So do I. I haven’t done it since…well, you know.” The builder’s brow twisted. “As much as I miss it, a part of me still can't bring myself to go out at night. It isn’t the same. Not without you.”

The builder hummed. “Well, I’m here, at least. Do you think we can do it here?”

“Hm…” Qi glanced out the window at the cloudless, simulated sky. “I believe that this environment can simulate nighttime as well.”

The builder’s face brightened. “Oh, then we can! Think you can get things set up?”

“Certainly. Give me a few minutes to make the change. I’ll be right back."

The builder gave Qi a quick nod before he shut off the simulation, moving to the editor. He cleared the daytime sky texture from the skybox and inserted a starry night texture instead. As the environment re-rendered, Qi stretched his tired arms and stared at the loading bar in anticipation. Then he reloaded the simulation, popping right back to their dinner table. The light from outside was gone, the windows nearly pitch-black.

“Alright, ready. Shall we move outside?”

The builder smiled, producing a blanket from…somewhere. “Let’s go.”

The world outside loaded into view, a moonless night blanketing the flat, plain desert and the undetailed polyhedrons of the town. Qi took a deep breath and looked up. His eyes were met with a foreign sky. Stars were scattered about randomly, not a single asterism recreated properly. The Milky Way wasn’t even rendered, leaving the sky feeling desolate.

Qi frowned. How disappointing. For all the Old World’s incredible technology, this was the best recreation they could make? Or was it just that no one bothered?

“Hey.” The builder’s voice knocked him out of his thoughts. They had spread the blanket out on the sand in their usual spot, out behind the assembly station, next to the patch of rose willows and chestnut trees. They lay on their back, looking at Qi with a soft smile. “Come here,” they said, patting the empty spot beside them.

Qi moved to the builder’s side, standing awkwardly over them. Was he supposed to just…lie down? Lie his real body down? He lifted himself off the chair he was sitting in, moving it aside. Then he carefully lowered himself onto the floor, trying not to hit his head. He flinched as his back met the hard metal floor of his lab, instead of a soft blanket sitting atop the sand. He stared blankly up at the unrecognizable sky.

…

It wasn’t the same. Everything felt…wrong.

Memories of him and the builder stargazing would always be at the front of his mind. They were so strong that sometimes, if he just stayed very still and silent, his mind would drift back to the blanket in the yard under the endless sky. He could remember it all with such visceral detail, how it soothed every sense.

Countless stars would spin above their heads, the Milky Way cascading down.

(These were nothing but random static points on a black background, dressed up to look like the real thing.)

He would point out some of the more interesting things in the sky. Perhaps a particularly bright star, or a planet, or a passing satellite.

(There was nothing for Qi to explain. There was nothing he could explain.)

They would breathe in the cool night air, colored with the sweet scent of the rose willows.

(The research center always smelled like tea and metal and whatever chemicals Qi was using in his last experiment.)

The gentle wind would tousle their hair and rustle through the leaves of the chestnut trees.

(The air inside was stagnant. Though it was muffled through his headphones, Qi could hear the whirring of the generator and the faint buzzing of the lights.)

The builder would be pressed up against him, warm against his side. Sometimes their hand would squeeze his, strong and calloused. He would look over to be met with their radiant smile, glowing with the light of the stars. Shining for him.

(…………)

Qi had no idea how much time had passed. But before long, he found himself lying on the floor of his lab, squinting at the harsh lights overhead. Alone.

He pushed himself up with a grunt. For a moment, he stood there, staring at the development terminal. Then he pulled up the virtual Sandrock in the editor, and changed the skybox to the daytime texture.

He turned the computer off, and walked upstairs. He collapsed onto his bed, quickly falling into a dreamless sleep.

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

“Hey, how was work?”

“Not bad. I’m trying to design new features for the Mobile Suit, but nothing seems to stick.”

“Too impractical, or?”

“Not exactly, it’s just that I keep compromising the suit’s appearance. I can’t tarnish the original design.”

“Forever loyal to the Gungam concept, huh?”

“That–! Er…yes. Yes I am.” The builder chuckled. “In any case, once I get that problem sorted out, next comes the problem of getting someone to build it. Whoever should that be…?”

…

…

…

“Um. Honey, I can’t build real things.”

“A-ah. You are…correct.”

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“How was work?”

“Good. I’m running more experiments on the algae in that biocrust-making machine. Zeke wants to see if we can make it more potent or long-lasting.”

“Oh, you guys can make biocrust now? Took me months just to get a little patch of the yard to turn into biocrust.”

“Um, yes? You were a part of the team that discovered the machine, remember?”

“Huh? Don’t think I do.”

“Oh. Well, you, Mi-an, and the mayor were exploring an old submarine ruin and found it.”

“Gotcha.”

“Mhm. How was your work today, anyhow?”

The builder sighed. “I don’t have work, remember? Most of my time was spent waiting for you to come back.”

Qi winced. “I keep forgetting. I’m still in the habit of asking.”

“...It’s fine.”

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

“How was work?”

“Fairly regular day today. Still not making any progress on the mobile suit.”

“Uh-huh.”

A minute passed in silence before Qi realized that he should get them talking. He racked his brain for something to ask them.

It was out before he could stop himself. “How was–”

“I can’t work, Qi,” the builder all but snapped, their fingers turning white as their grip on their fork tightened. “There’s no one to take commissions from. Nothing breaks down. Hell, I don’t even exist when you’re not here since you turn the system off. How many times do I need to tell you?”

Qi shrunk in on himself, his stomach simmering. “...Sorry.” He kept his eyes down, hoping he wouldn’t draw their ire anymore.

A deafening silence lingered, following Qi back to reality as he logged off and returned to the dim, desolate walls of his lab.

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

“How was work?”

“Slow. I haven’t received any diagram requests lately. The other builders seem to be content with their machines.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I critiqued a few papers today. Nothing space-related, unfortunately.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Not much in the way of relics, either.”

“Mm-hmm.”

…

…

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Qi stared at the table in silence, counting the grooves in the wood. His dinner was growing cold in front of him.

The builder picked at their food, occasionally taking a small bite.

…

“Is this what we would’ve become…?” Qi whispered.

The builder’s gaze snapped up, taking in his dismal look. “Huh?”

“Our marriage.” Qi met their eyes. “We were married for less than a year, but 5, 10 years later… Would it have devolved into nothing but…” He gestured vaguely at the two of them. “...this?”

The builder picked their food some more, brow furrowed. “I…can’t say for sure about out there,” they said finally. “But in here, at least…we just don’t have anything more we can do together. The most we can really do is talk...and we’ve already run out of things to talk about.”

They were right. In the real world, there was always something new. Even if Qi had a slow day at the lab, the builder always had something to tell. Weird commissions, gossip about the townsfolk, rants about Yan, their latest ruin dive, anything. The virtual builder wasn’t programmed to do anything other than emoting and talking to him. There was nothing they could bring to their conversations.

And conversations were all they had. He couldn’t take them on dates, he couldn’t give them anything… All he could do was talk.

In the real world, the builder was dynamic and free. In here, their entire existence was confined to a fake dinner table, holding fake conversations and eating fake food.

Qi’s stomach twisted. He wanted to perfectly recreate the builder in this simulation, to preserve all of the things that made them so wonderful. What a fine job he did of that.

He hid his head in his hands. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. I thought I had done enough. Clearly I was wrong.”

“What? Honey, no. You already worked your ass off to get me here as is. I’m grateful for that. Even if…this is it.” A sad, but sincere smile crossed their face.

Qi’s heart froze. “What? W-what do you mean, ‘this is it?’” Why did this sound like a goodbye?

“You did your best to recreate me to help you through your emotions, but it’s run its course now, hasn’t it? There’s nothing left for you here.”

Qi’s mind was spinning. His heart suddenly felt an all-too-familiar stab of pain.

“As weird as it is to say…let go of me, Qi. Let this project end.” Their smile was heartrending. “You’ll be okay. I know you will.”

Qi felt bile rising in his throat. No, this couldn’t be it. He could still do more, he could improve and add so many things, he could make all of this better, he could make them happy in here, he could be happy with them again, he…

He wasn’t ready to say goodbye.

Would he ever be?

“W-wait,” he croaked. “I-I…y-you’re…” He floundered, eyes looking anywhere but the builder’s. “You’re wrong.”

Their smile faded. “Wrong…?”

“Th-this project…is still incomplete. All of the deficiencies in the program…I can improve them. I…I can finish simulating the rest of the city…and the desert too. I can add everyone else in so you can talk with them…”

“Honey…”

“...I can even add a simple commerce guild! Complete with commissions and everything! Okay, maybe I can eliminate Yan…”

“Honey.”

“...And I can make a better night sky with all the star charts I have! Then we can actually enjoy stargazing again…”

“Honey, please.”

“Starlight.” Qi met their worried eyes. “I promise I’ll make this right. It’s worth it for you.”

“Qi, wait-!”

The last thing that Qi saw before a black screen was the builder urgently reaching out for him. He ripped the headset off and grabbed his glasses. He could feel vigor from his renewed purpose pumping through his veins. A bubbly laugh inadvertently escaped his lips as he leapt up the stairs, two at a time. He grabbed his kettle and cups and started a strong brew.

He had a lot of work to do.

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[notyour-valentine]

The Boy in the Window 19 ~ Tommy Shelby x Reader (Series)

Chapter Summary: Arrow House and it's grounds is even larger when looking for a missing child in the night

Notes:  I've had to split this into two parts as it was getting too long, so unfortunately no Tommy in this part yet (but twice as much as planned in the next part) I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Here, you can find my [Masterlist] and the [Series Masterlist]

Warning: Canon conforming mention of violence. Mentioned stereotypes of romani communities (18/21+). Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Expect spoilers for Peaky Blinders Season 1-4.

Wordcount: 5388

Part 19

[Previously]

She was wearing nothing but her old brown coat over her thin nightgown, but she did not feel the bite of the night air. 

But (Y/N) knew it was cold. She knew it with a certainty beyond what her body could feel. 

It was far too early in the year to hope for a mild night and there was still a chance for rain- let alone the dampness that hung in the night air, coating grass and tree and stone in a thin film of tiny droplets that would drape a white veil over the entire estate as soon as the morning light would break through the skies. 

However it would be hours before that happened.

And even then no one should be out here without a coat and proper, steadfast shoes, let alone now. 

And so while she did not feel the cold nip at her skin, she felt it in her heart- an icy terror that had gripped her, bringing tears to her eyes and an almost inhuman strength to her bones. 

Inside her, a war was waged - anger raged with anguish, despair fought with determination while blind confusion crashed against that kind of courage which bordered on insanity. 

Two dozen lamps were glowing all throughout the grounds like oversized fireflies, some closer, some all the way in the distance. 

There were many but not nearly enough to illuminate the entirety of the estate. Not even close. All these little circles of light they could create were nothing more than little rowing boats in a vast sea of impenetrable darkness. 

For all they saw, there was ten times as much as they didn’t, and even more that they couldn’t. 

(Y/N) did not know what was worse for her to hear, the echoing shouts or the suffocating silence that came after. 

All the while Frances’ words echoed in her ear louder than any sound of snapping twigs or crunching gravel. 

“The outdoor staff saw him as he was approaching the gate and then he slipped off or fell and disappeared before they could reach him.”

The fools had caught the damned horse but missed the boy. 

And now he’s out here all alone. 

She had known the estate was big, but not this big. 

It would take days to search every inch of it, even in daylight. 

But the cold night made it treacherous even to someone who was entirely familiar to it. 

Every root she came across could trip him up, every stone glistening with the damp night air could make him slip. 

That and more was all too easily overlooked in the darkness, let alone by a frightened, frantic little boy. 

What if he fell and hurt his foot, unable to get up again? Or worse - what if he hit his head? 

What if he was frightened by all the commotion and hiding somewhere they wouldn't find him? 

What if he was cold? What if he got too cold?

That thought made her wrap her arms around her tighter to stop herself from shuddering. 

She wanted to scream, to pound the earth with her fists until it cracked open, to tear down each tree if only it meant she could do something. 

But she could only do as little as the rest of them - stumbling through the darkness, shouting his name and trying not to succumb to desperation. 

Her mind betrayed her once more, flooding her with images of possible outcomes the way it had done throughout four years of war and later when she did not know what lay beneath the cloth or was sitting alone in her living room awaiting news of a man gone to face death again and again. 

Then she could have allowed these images, she could have allowed to sink into a pit of sorrow and fear, then when she had been equally helpless and useless. 

But not now. She could do something. She had to do something.

And deep down she knew she wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t be able to stop until they had found him. 

She thought the no matter what or how before she could stop herself and it made her chest ache as if someone had pried open her ribcage. 

Just as they finished crossing a grass area to a path, they were met by other searchers. 

“We’ve combed through from the Northern gates.”, one of the drivers that had led a searching troop explained. 

“And we went all the way to the river. There was no sight of him on the way but we kept a few men there to keep a look out.”, said a second. 

Oh God. 

She had completely forgotten about the river. It wasn’t a large one big enough to let boats pass, but wide enough that one couldn’t touch both sides at the same time, not even with two people. It wasn’t deep enough for an adult not to be able to stand in, but it was a different matter for a child. 

He should know not to go to the river!, she thought. He knows. He is a smart boy, a reasonable boy. 

(Y/N) took a shuddering breath. 

But he’s also a boy that stole a pony and tried to run off. 

“Did you check on the other side of the river? Towards the forest?”, Frances asked. She had returned wrapped in a long coat and thick scarf. 

“There’s no way across.”

Pacing up and down, she tried to gather her thoughts, to free them from her fears. 

She couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew the answer, or at least an answer, but every time she had nearly reached a coherent thought, another biting fear, another harsh image crossed her mind. 

Digging her fingernails into the palms of her hand she let the pain anchor her. 

“Where he normally go? Any special places where he might feel safe? Any hiding spots?”, one of the farmers asked. He was the one she had bought the honey from with the children just a few days ago. 

He had seen the commotion and the lights and had joined with his two sons, fourteen and sixteen, with the innocence of boyhood written all over his face. 

She swallowed hard and flexed her fingers as she looked around at Frances and the others.

“Apart from the stables.”

That was where they had checked first.

“The play areas empty and we turned the entire house upside down.”, Frances told them. 

That would have been her next suggestion - the kitchen and that spot in the servant’s staircase where one could see out to the paddock. 

She had never entered Arrow House and all she knew of it was from what they had told her. 

Crouching down on the floor she closed her eyes and tried to remember anything he or Emma had ever told her from her visits her, any place she mentioned in her games. 

But there had been so many stories, so many tales and she had been so distracted from time to time. What if she had missed it?

What if Emma had told her the answer time and time again and she had been to preoccupied with her own worries to notice?

But Emma hadn’t seen much. She usually just went to the stables for her lessons in the closed off paddock. 

(Y/N) remembered often how she’d complain about wanting to explore but Charlie had always been the insisting they go back to Warburton House as soon as possible. 

She should have seen the signs earlier and when she had seen them she shouldn’t have let Frances brush her off. 

Then they wouldn’t be here. 

That was why they had people search any possible route between the two homes. 

But nothing had come of that. Nothing at all. 

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. 

Burying her face in her hands she thought back to times before that, to months past when Charlie had only just come to her. 

He had been so homesick then and filled with stories, about Frances and the maids and the time he spent in the kitchen - 

No, they already checked the house. 

He adored the stables but he wasn’t there either and they would have found him in the play area or the back gardens. 

If he had been anywhere near the fruit trees she would have seen him as soon as the car carrying them had arrived. 

He had talked of his toys a lot and of his horses more, of how he’d saddle them, tend them and ride them just like the way his father had taught him. 

Charlie could go on and on about the riding instructions and especially the rides they took to the trees and along the river and that one spot- 

Her head shot up as she sprung to her feet. 

“There’s a place by the river where you can cross it.”

“What?”, Frances asked her confused, but she nodded feverishly. 

“There’s a place by the river,”, she said, practically stumbling over her words and not stopping to take a breath. 

“It looks just like the rest but there’s a sand bank underneath the water. You can’t see it but if you know where it is, you can cross it easily. The water didn’t even go to his ankle he said!”

“Where?”, the chauffeur demanded to know, glancing around his eyes wide.

“I don’t know!”, she admitted, as it dawned on her that if Charlie had attempted to go to the river he might have gotten lost in the dark and that was a possibility far darker than any other she had thus far dared to consider. 

And unlike the canals, there was movement in the river. 

One misplaced foot and the water could grip hold of him and-

“I don’t know. I don’t know. We have to ask Tommy! He’ll know! He’s the one that took Charlie there!”

Still panting she turned to Frances, her lips now dry from all the open-mouthed breaths she had been taking.

“Where is he?”, she asked frantically. “We have to tell him. He’ll know. He has to know!”

In her urgency her voice climbed to a higher pitch than she normally used.

“Mrs Hale.”, Frances whispered, reaching out with her hands to steady her, as if she wanted to comfort her. 

Unlike all the others, the urgency had disappeared from her eyes, leaving pity in it’s stead. 

And pity was one thing she could not understand and the last thing she wanted to see.

“What? What?”, she demanded to know, staring at the other woman. 

Her tone was far from polite, but (Y/N) was beyond common courtesies and manners and she didn’t care who was there to witness. 

With regret in her eyes she shook her head.

“Mr Shelby won’t be joining us.”

A soft gasp escaped her lips in stark contrast to the rumbling of the earth she felt. 

For a few seconds all she could hear was the blood rushing through her ears sent their by her thundering, panicked heart. 

But then her anger washed out any trace of her fear.

“You can’t be serious!”, she snarled through clenched teeth, her eyes flashing. 

Swallowing hard, the housekeeper nodded. 

Every muscle in her body tensed to the point of bursting as now it was her turn to shake her head. 

“No!”, she snapped. “Absolutely not!”

She began to pace again but no longer in fear- instead a bottomless rage had claimed possession of her. 

How could he?

How dare he?

“Has he lost his mind?”, she shouted into the night, making a few of the bystanders flinch. 

Even Frances took a step back, but (Y/N) was quick to follow. 

“What does that- what does any of that matter now?”, she pleaded at her, her voice trembling as despair claimed her once more. 

She would beg on her knees for his forgiveness, would throw herself at his feet and at his mercy, would do anything and everything if it meant he’d just pull himself together until they knew that Charlie was safe. 

The fact that she even had to consider that, made her sick to her stomach. 

Her eyes burned the way they only could when they frantically tried to keep tears of at bay as she stared at the looming red stone building he had barred her from. 

Was her slight against him really so great that it would prevent him from helping them search for his son?

“He can continue to hate me all he wants once we have found Charlie! We need to find him!”

How could he hold onto all that even now, when all that mattered was finding Charlie and making sure that he was alright?

The invisible belt around her chest tightened once more and every breath felt like she was competing against the force of a dozen men. 

Or against the anger of one. 

In that moment she hated him in return, and when her eyes returned to the silhouette of the house, the one he had banished her from, the one Charlie had sought to escape, she felt vile tasting disgust claw its way up her throat. 

“No, Mrs Hale,”, Frances insisted, her hand finding her shoulder, “you don’t understand! Mr Shelby-”

(Y/N) never found out what Mr Shelby did or didn’t do or said or didn’t say as in that moment shouts were heard.

“We’ve found him! We’ve found him!”

~

The estate seemed twice as large now when they were rushing back in the direction of the house. 

With every breath of the cold air she took, with every beat of her racing heart, she repeated the knowledge she had now. 

They’ve found him. 

They’ve found him. 

Thank God they’ve found him.

They hurried towards the stables but not to where the horses were, but to the large stretched out shed at the back. 

A whole host of people were outside and it took quite the effort to shove past them all. 

“Why didn’t you check there earlier?”, she asked one of the estate workers. 

“We don’t like to go in there, Ma’am.”, he muttered, his face as pale as winter snow. 

“Who knows what’s in there?”, another added, spitting on the ground. 

“What’s in there?”, she demanded to know, her heart dropping. 

Her mind went to the blackest rumours that circulated around the Peaky Blinders, about the cuttings and killings. Once she had even heard that some people thought they collected the eyes they took or that they had hidden torture chambers to break the will of their enemies. 

Whatever hell lay beyond these doors, she wasn’t afraid enough and did not even hesitate for a single second as she entered the stuffy dark shed as the smell of wood and leather filled her nose. 

But inside, she saw no horror, no grisly scene - nothing of the sort. 

Instead she was met by three different gypsy wagons, some painted and decorated, others plain and simple. 

And she understood. 

For a split second she was little again, staring at the reddish glow of flickering light that came from hung windows and candlelight, the scent of incense and burning herbs filling her nose. 

Words, words she did not understand, chants almost, had rung out into the little courtyard. 

Devil’s work, they had called it, and branded Mrs Shelby a witch for doing so. 

There had been warnings too, to stay away, to not accept anything she might give them. That it was all cursed. 

But she wasn’t a little girl any longer. 

One brave stableboy was kneeling on the floor in front one of the two-wheeled one that had been tipped to the back to rest on the back. 

When she approached, he looked up wide-eyed and shuffled back to make room. 

“Charlie?”, she asked, suddenly frightened at what she might find. 

Her knees touched the cold floor and she leaned forward so that she could look underneath. 

“Careful,”, the stable boy warned. “It’s only tipped. If it loses balance and comes down this end it’ll crush you.”

She couldn’t deny it. The two wheels had made it like a seesaw. Pulling at one end would make it tip towards one, as the balancing bolts had been taken out. 

God help me, she thought as in spite of that, she scooted under, but she couldn’t get further than the level of the two large painted wheels. 

It was so dark in the shed, and even darker under there she could only make out movement. 

“Charlie, are you there?”

In the darkness she picked up a slight shift but nothing more. 

It might as well have been a cat. 

“Tell Harry to go away!”, a whimper finally came from the darkness. 

Relief made her clasp a hand over her mouth as tears threatened to spill out of the corners of her eyes. 

But it wasn’t over yet and so she gestured at the boy to leave, fighting to keep a fragment of her composure. 

“But the wagon!”

“It’ll have to hold.”, she insisted, “go- go!”

He hesitated, but then he obeyed, leaving just the two of them. 

She stretched her arm out as far as she could into the darkness. 

“It’s just me now, Charlie.”, she assured him. “It’s just me.”

But her words were only met by silence. 

“Charlie?”, she pleaded. 

“Everyone was shouting out there.”, he whispered and she heard the tears in his voice. 

“I know, but they’ve stopped now!”, she said trying to sound as cheery and light-hearted as she possibly could. But her voice still trembled. 

She etched slightly further even if her shoulder began to ache, but she just had to touch him. 

“Are you cross with me too?”, he said in the softest, faintest voice. 

“No, no Charlie - I’m not cross with you. Not a bit!”, she insisted, her tears hitting the ground of the shed. 

“You sound upset.”, he whimpered.

She struggled to find a convincing response, but no lie she could have thought up would have been enough and so she told him the truth. 

“It would make me so happy to hold you right now.”, she assured him. 

That broke the spell which had kept him in the dark. 

He reached for her hand first and she pulled him towards her, while at the same time shuffling out from underneath that wagon on her back, her hand covering the top of his head so that he wouldn’t scrape the edge of the old wood. 

And then they were out and in the light and he was in her arms again, clinging to her the way she was clinging to him. 

His face was nuzzled into her chest while she pressed her nose to the top of his head, one hand on his back, the other in his hair as she clutched him as tightly as she could. 

He was curled into her the way she had held Emma when she had been a baby. 

For a long while she couldn’t hear or see or thing. She just held him with the same desperation as he clutched her and they both cried. 

Sniffling, she finally pulled away, stroking his hair back.

“Darling, darling, I have to look at you.”, she insisted, but he only pushed his head further into her chest as if he sought to conquer a place in her heart as if it wasn’t already his. 

“Charlie please, I have to see if you’re hurt!”

Only reluctantly, did he let her pull his face back slightly. 

He was still wearing his pyjamas, partly stained by dirt with large wet patches on his knees and shin, as well as his sleeves. 

She didn’t miss that the fabric had split on one knee and at the edges blood had mixed with dirt. 

When she pried his hands away from her nightgown she saw the scraping on his palms. 

It took some effort for her to be able to move her arms far enough to shrug off her coat, succeeding only once Charlie had caught onto her intentions. 

Once it was off, she wrapped him up in it as best she could, leaving her only in her nightgown. 

“Does anywhere else hurt?”, she asked, stroking her thumb over his palm. 

He shook his head and leaned his head into her chest once more.

Sighing deeply she smoothed over his soft blond hair. It felt damp to the tough.

“What are you doing, huh?”, she asked, before cupping his cheeks and wiping his tears away. 

“I wanted to come to you.”, he confessed. “I want to stay with you, with you and Emma!”

His bright blue eyes were shining with tears as he reached up at her with his scratched hands shaking lips.

“I want to stay with you. Promise you won’t leave me.”

She shook her head and cupped his face. 

“I won’t. I promise I won’t!”

With that all the tension seemed to flee from his muscles as he snuggled into her once more and she just held him, thanking anyone who would listen to her prayers for the fact that he was alright, and safe and warm and in her arms again. 

It was long after Charlie had drifted off to a dreamless slumber of exhaustion in her arms, when her racing heart had settled enough for her to take a shuddering breath. 

When she finally gathered the strength to pick him up in his arms, she made sure he was still covered in her coat before she left the shed. 

The crowd of people had only ever grown and she was glad he was asleep and didn’t have to face them. 

Frances rushed towards her with relief written all over her face, but when (Y/N) saw her outstretched arms, she took a step back, turning to her side to remove Charlie’s sleeping form from her view. 

“We should take him back inside, Mrs Hale!”, she said softly, trying once more.

“He’s coming with me!”, (Y/N) insisted, before turning on her heel and storming back towards the cars as quickly as she could with him in her arms. 

“Mrs Hale, please!”, she heard Frances as the woman caught up to her. 

But when she saw the look on her face, the housekeeper’s eyes widened. 

“I asked you if something was wrong,”, she hissed under her breath, “and you assured me all was well.”

Frances swallowed hard and averted her eyes. 

“I asked you for Charlie’s sake and you lied to me and now look where we are! What it came to!”

“Mrs Hale, I-

“I don’t care!”, she snapped, shifting Charlie in her arms. “I honestly do not care.”

She was beyond that, far beyond. 

“So you can tell Tommy whenever he sees it fit to ask after his son that he’s safe and that he’s with me! Where he will stay!”

With that she left Frances standing but she didn’t get far.

Her own voice had been hissed and Frances had spoken softly but the voice of Polly Gray rang through the darkness. 

“Where do you think you’re going?”, she demanded to know, storming from the entrance of Arrow House like a fury from the stories. 

But (Y/N) was no longer frightened of her, and met her flashing eyes. 

“I’m taking him!”, she insisted, lifting her chin and glaring at her. 

“Oh no you’re not!”, Mrs Gray argued, in an almost mocking tone, as if this was all amusing to her. 

She came so close (Y/N) could not only smell the cigarette smoke on her, but also the vilest kind of a sweet smell that made her jaw clench. She reeked of sickness and other wretched smells. 

“Don’t think for one second that you will put a foot out of this estate with the boy against Tommy’s will. Who do you think you are?”, she sneered in a tone so low and threatening it would should have terrified her, but like earlier in the night, her anger defeated her fear.

Despite the blinding anger in her eyes, her voice was calm, and she was unbothered by the gasps and whispers her words earned. 

“I’m the one that went looking for him.”, she said unflinchingly. “Unlike you. Unlike your nephew.”

Mrs Gray bristled as if she had slapped her, which somehow made (Y/N)’s chest swell with confidence. 

“How dare you?”, she spat. “Tommy’s his father.”

“And a what a father he is.”, she shot right back.

Even now, he didn’t show his face, sending his aunt in his stead. 

Mrs Gray’s dark eyes turned cold.

“Give me that boy!”, she demanded. 

(Y/N) didn’t move a single muscle.

“Give him to me or I will take him from you!”, she threatened and looked ready to claw her eyes out.

“Mrs Gray!”, Frances said, coming from the sidelines, stepping in between the two women, her back to (Y/N) and Charlie. 

“Perhaps Mrs Hale and Emma could stay here. For Charlie. He’ll only try again, Mrs Gray. You know he will.”

The other woman’s jaw clenched.

“Mrs Gray, please!”, Frances insisted. “It’ll be what’s best for the boy. We can put them in the guest wing, far away from - from you know. 

And everything else can be discussed when Mr Shelby-”

“Fine!”, she sneered, cutting Frances off sharply before pointing her finger at her. 

“But only for the boy’s sake!”

With that she stormed back towards the house. 

~

She hated the idea with every fibre of her being.

 Her whole body and soul revolted against the prospect of entering let alone staying in this house with the children. 

Instead everything screamed at her to take them away from this place but she couldn't. 

All the maids and servants had been gathered for the search, and there was no way she could force her way out with the children. She’d need an army for that, and another if she hoped to get far. 

Once before she had tried to find ways to escape with Charlie, before she knew of his identity. Even then it had been risky and unlikely, but now knowing who he was, it bordered insanity to even try, not without an incredibly good plan and great allies. 

But at least this way she had them together. 

A shudder had come over her when she had first heard her heels click in the entrance hall of Arrow House. 

The flickering lights of the electric lamps did little to dispel the darkness. 

Once inside Frances tried to take Charlie again, but she shut her down immediately. 

He'd stay with her. They both would. 

She still did not know what had made him want to run and until she did, she wouldn't even consider letting them out of her sight. 

Finally, Frances had relented and shown her to a guest room. It was the last room in the last corridor and it took several minutes just to walk there. 

But it was large with a grand bed large enough for two adults. 

In a few minutes, the maids had made up the room, but it was void of recent use and seemed cold to her. 

Emma had thankfully slept throughout the entire thing, from when (Y/N) had taken her out of her bed, not wanting to leave her alone in Warburton House when needing everyone for the search, nor during the time she spent sleeping in Lisa’s lap in the car while her mother stumbled through the darkness. 

Even when she was placed on the bed, she only chewed in her sleep and rolled over. 

She couldn't do that with Charlie just yet. 

Laying him down on the sofa at the corner of the room, she began to unbutton the shirt of his blue silk pyjamas. 

"Here is the warm water, the iodine and an ointment.", Frances explained in a whisper as she brought it in, accompanied by another maid who held not only a spare set of pyjamas for him. 

"Thank you.", She forced out. 

Charlie had scrapes on his knees and palms and she first took care to rinse the dirt from them before applying the iodine as gently as she could. 

He winced, but didn't wake. 

All the while, Frances was standing behind her, not wanting to leave but not daring to raise her voice either, being silently and watchfully helpful. 

Once Charlie's wounds were tended to, she put him into a new set of pyjamas and carried him over to the bed, putting him down next to Emma. 

This was far from the first time these two had shared a bed and neither was disturbed in their sleep by the presence of the other. 

The tranquillity the two of them radiated was almost enough to melt her anxiety away. 

“We’ve put out some clothes for you, Mrs Hale.”, she said softly, nodding to a pile placed on the dresser. 

“Is there anything else you need?”

(Y/N) turned slowly to face her. 

Exhaustion had drained parts of her anger but a large portion still remained. 

"An explanation.", She said, her low tone making her voice lose none of it’s sharpness. 

The other woman swallowed hard and apparently rid herself of her tongue in the process as no words passed her lips. 

"I want to leave with them as soon as possible.", She told the housekeeper. 

"I doubt Mrs Gray would allow that without Mr Shelby's permission."

The mention of his name sent shots of electric pain through her body. 

He still hadn't shown his face and with every second that passed, the pit in her stomach grew deeper. 

Funny, really, how quickly affection, care and compassion could turn to cold, biting disgust. 

Shaking her head she controlled her voice only for the children's sake. 

"His boy goes missing in the middle of the night and he doesn't even care enough to show his face."

Saying it hurt in a different kind of way, the biting, throbbing way only disappointment could. 

Charlie deserved better, and a part of her thought she deserved better too. 

But maybe it was her fault? 

Maybe this no contact decree he had imposed on her had now extended to Charlie? 

No, that was too much. Despite his flaws, Tommy did love his boy. She had seen it countless times, and would have sworn on the Holy Bible for it. 

At least before tonight’s betrayal. 

She still couldn't believe that he could hate her that much to let it cloud his love for his son. 

"It's not that, Mrs. Hale.", Frances said, her voice so uncommonly faint it sounded almost fragile. 

"I'm sure he would have been right there with you if he had been able."

"What do you mean 'if he had been able?", She demanded to know, as a cold shudder ran down her spine. 

Frances shifted once more as if she searched for a way out of the corner she had painted herself into. 

“I shouldn’t say.”

“I think we are far passed what should and shouldn’t happen.”

The other woman nodded, but still averted her eyes before starting to speak. 

"Mr. Shelby's not been well.", She told the expensive wooden floorboards. 

"Not been well?", (Y/N) repeated, as something else mixed in with her anger and disappointment. 

"Y-you should get some sleep, Mrs. Hale.", She assured her with a smile that looked more like a grimace. 

"Tell me.", (Y/N) asked, her voice for the first time since this nightmare had started a few hours ago, completely calm. 

And maybe that was the reason why she did speak. 

"He's been drinking a lot- more even than his usual.", She began, "and all the whisky and gin doesn't help with his gunshot wound."

Her eyes widened. 

"A gunshot wound?"

Tommy hadn't gotten shot in the confrontation with Luca- there had been pain yes, but no but holes. She would have seen it and she would have remembered. 

Frances nodded. 

“It heals poorly and the drink doesn't mix well with the medicine he takes and we've lost track of the medicine he doesn't take. It makes him…I can’t really describe it.”

An icy cold began to spread through (Y/N) as she listened. 

Her eyes met (Y/N)s and she imagined seeing fear in them. "He's in a bad way, Mrs. Hale. A very, very bad way."

End of Part 19

~

Part 20

Thank you for reading! I’d be very grateful for feedback of any kind!

Taglist: 

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Tommy

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The Boy in the Window

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[youvebeenjegulused]

Endgame Jegulus Head Canons

They kept it a secret, at first.

They get together in James's fifth year, and Regulus's fourth.

James calls Regulus not only Reggie, but baby just to piss him off.

Regulus gets the mark the summer before his sixth year.

Whenever Sirius and Regulus would fight in the hallways, James would never look Regulus in the eyes, he was always too afraid that he would let something loose.

The first time they exchanged 'I love you's' was a few days after James found out Regulus had been forced to take the dark mark. He kissed his arm and whispered sweet nothings to him.

After summer and winter breaks, Regulus would close himself off for a little while after. It hurt James at first, until he knew why.

After James became head boy, he and Regulus would sleep in his room, instead of various meet-up spots.

The rest of the mauraders found out in James's seventh year. Sirius had screamed at him, how could James do that to him? Remus and Peter had been upset as well, Remus albeit more because of his boyfriend.

Sirius didn't talk to him, or Regulus for two weeks after he found out. Eventually, he and James sat down and he threatened to kill him if he ever hurt his little brother.

James stopped liking Lily in his fourth year, after he finally gave up on her. Although, they did become close friends, but nothing more.

For their seventh year prank finale, James and Sirius hung up pride flags around the school, and Sirius kissed Remus in the great hall during breakfast.

On the day of James's graduation, he proposes to Regulus. Of course, Reg says yes.

James comes out to his parents that same day.

They have to keep their relationship secret, because of the war.

Regulus becomes a spy for the order.

They find out Peter is a traitor, and sadly, they have to kill him.

Their wedding is absolutely beautiful. Wolfstar, Dorlene, Lily and Minerva Mcgonagall are the only guests. It takes place in a field full of wild flowers and blue skies. It's the first time James sees Regulus cry.

Soon later though, James sees him cry for the second time, when he feels the kicking coming from James's stomach.

James decides he's never felt real fear before when he watches his husband almost drown.

He saves him, of course. But not all of him. His left arm and peaceful sleep will forever be gone.

They decide to name him Harry James Potter. He has messy brown hair, big grey eyes and skin like a doll.

Uncle Padfoot really loves Harry, he does. Just not when he's six months old and breaks Uncle Moony's favorite mug.

Voldemort still (somehow) finds them. It's too bad that Lily is visiting when he is.

James and Regulus attend her funeral with heavy hearts. Harry's forehead adorns a lightning bolt scar.

Raising Harry with one arm is quite the task, Regulus often ponders.

Sirius, Remus, Regulus and James have a bet on Harry's Hogwarts house.

James and Sirius owe Regulus five galleons each when Harry's letter comes back with the words Slytherin written within it.

They owe him five again, when Harry sends another letter talking all about Draco Malfoy, and how annoying his blonde hair is when it glows in the sunlight.

That's why their not surprised in fourth year, during the second task when Harry drags Draco out of the water with him.

Regulus has never willing killed anyone. But when Sirius dies, so does the nearest death eater in sight. He doesn't bother looking at their face.

James and Regulus hold their son as he cries about his boyfriend, who was forced to get the mark. Just like Regulus.

Together, they worry about Harry, Neville and Luna, who are alive, somewhere out in the world, trying to destroy horcruxes.

On nights where Regulus wakes up screaming about wet hands and dead sons, James holds him close, like he used to when they were teenagers.

James cries twice that day. Once, when he sees Harry after he escaped Malfoy Manor. The second time when he sees Luna. Her eyes are dull, and she has blood dripping from her mouth.

Regulus helps Harry bury Dobby.

Harry meets Teddy Lupin, a surprise baby that came from a one night hook up between Remus and Tonks. Remus had thrown up afterwards, and decided Tonks was better as a friend, without knowing of his son.

Regulus holds his wand to Voldemorts face when he brings out Harry's dead body. James is right next to him.

With the help of Neville, Regulus kills Nagini.

James almost starts sobbing when he sees his Harry alive and breathing, throwing spells with his wand.

Regulus Potter realises how much he loves his family when he sees his son staring down at the dead, mortal body of the dark lord.

Draco and Harry take in Teddy as their own, which is a relief to Andromeda.

At Harry's wedding, James gets flashbacks of Regulus walking down the isle as Draco does. They'd chosen the same spot as he and Regulus. It's bittersweet, with the two empty chairs for Sirius and Remus.

Regulus and James go to their first pride parade. Regulus magiks rainbows onto their cheeks, and together they yell and kiss and cheer.

James Sirius Potter is a beautiful baby.

They are old now, so very old. They have a small house that overlooks a sunny clearing in the woods. They have rocking chairs that they sit in and drink tea. They tell stories of love and pranks to their four grandchildren.

James Sirius, Al, Scor and Lily remind James of the mauraders. Regulus shakes his head in exasperation, that's full of grey curls.

When James dies, Regulus forgets how to feel again.

Slowly, things brighten, but Regulus will always remember. His everything, his happiness, his partner for infinity.

So it's not unsurprising when Regulus slips away from the world on a warm summer day, a few years after James. His hand is held by a crying Harry, Teddy behind him.

They're buried together, under a willow tree. The whole family visits, at first. But slowly they all trickle away, until it's only Harry and Scorpius who still come by.

James and Regulus loved each other, beyond words and everything else in the entire world. Harry vows to remember that.

[saucyminxbrainspill]

Broken Things - Chapter 2

A/N: This fic mingles both film and book canon, especially in the area of TIME (i.e. how long it takes to actually travel to & through certain regions during the dwarves’ Quest for Erebor). I vastly prefer the travel timeline in the books to the super-condensed “there’s always someone chasing us” version in the films.

Fandom: The Hobbit (book and films)

Setting: first part of the Quest for Erebor – The Lone Lands (somewhere between Bree and the Trollshaws)

Characters: Fili x fem!reader, Balin, Gandalf, Bilbo, Thorin, Kili, The Company

Chapter Warnings: mentions of grief, naked dwarf ogling, allusion to past trauma

RATING: PG-13 – angst, implied nudity

Word Count: 2835

Summary: Fili thinks he’s found his One in Y/N, a human linguist and healer accompanying Thorin’s Company on the Quest for Erebor. All he wants to do is find a way to confess his feelings and court her properly. But unbeknownst to him, Y/N carries hidden trauma from her past. Can Fili help her overcome her demons and win her heart?

Barely half a day’s ride beyond the village saw the end of tilled fields and farmsteads, and the beginning of woods and wild country. Y/N avoided Fili altogether, riding at the head of the column with Gandalf and Thorin, or in the rear with Bilbo and Bombur, but always several pony lengths removed from the blonde prince and his brother. At first the younger prince tried to tease the elder, wondering loudly and often – much to Fili’s chagrin - what might have happened to alienate their new friend: that is, until he noticed Fili’s sullen glare whenever he spoke her name. Soon, Kili’s chatter succumbed to his brother’s brooding silence, until finally there was no conversation between the princes at all. Eventually, Kili moved up the column in search of more amicable company.

This continued for the better part of a fortnight, while the Company rode on under fair May skies. Apart from the awkwardness between Y/N and Fili (a known fact that everyone tiptoed delicately around at all costs), it was a merry time. The dwarves told stories and jokes as the ponies ambled along, often at the expense of one or more of their fellows. And most evenings after supper had come and gone, they sat around the campfire and sang. Y/N loved these nights best.

Many of the lyrics featured bawdy or comic scenarios, drawing gales of laughter from the whole group. But sometimes late at night, when the smoke from their spent pipes hung over their heads like wisps of forgotten dreams, the melodies turned somber. When the singing shifted into Khuzdul, Y/N sat entranced. Although she understood only a word or two of the secret language, she felt the weight of the music. The deep hum of dwarven voices stirred something within her: age old sorrow and a loss so deep she could feel the ache in her bones.

“What does it mean?” she asked Balin one night after the conclusion of a particularly mournful dirge. He sighed heavily and gazed up at the sky for a long moment before answering.

“It is the Song of Burning: an elegy for the souls lost at the Battle of Azanulbizar. So many of our kin fell before the gates of Khazad-Dum that day. Those who lived were not enough to bury the dead. So we gathered the fallen onto a pyre and burned them, and the smoke of it darkened the sky for three days and nights.” He looked again at the dying fire, and Y/N saw the memory of other flames reflected in his gaze. His next words were so low, she almost missed them. “My father was a burned dwarf; as was Thorin’s younger brother, Frerin. Nearly all dwarrow suffer from that loss. It is likely we will never recover from it.”

Long moments passed in heavy silence as both stared into the embers. Finally Y/N dared to ask the question that had begun to burn her heart. “I would like to learn to understand it. Khuzdul, I mean. I have spent my whole life learning languages, but I know almost nothing of your speech or your people. Could you teach me?”

Balin looked up at her and frowned, studying her face intently. Y/N held her breath.

“We dwarrow guard our ancient tongue jealously and rarely teach it to outsiders, lass. This is no small thing you ask.”

Y/N had expected this, knowing how closely dwarves kept their secrets. She was prepared. She turned a neutral gaze on Balin then spoke the words she had rehearsed. “Among my people, dwarves are regarded as suspicious at best and vagabonds at worst. The elders of my village taught us that yours is a vulgar race, best suited to hard labor and lacking all gentility. I have been watching you all very closely these past few weeks on the road” - Well, one of you more than the others! - “and whether you wanted me to or not I have learned a thing or two about dwarrow.”

She leaned heavily on the last word, then paused to see what effect her speech had had on her audience. Balin levelled a cool gaze at her from beneath his snowy brows, his former vulnerability transformed into a stony mask.  She picked up a stick and began to poke at the fire, avoiding his eyes as she continued.

“Most of my family believe that dwarves are greedy, mean, and incapable of honest dealings. And while you certainly presented yourselves well when we met back in the Shire, these past weeks spent on the road together have revealed your true character.” Pause for effect!

She couldn’t keep the straight face any longer. Looking back up at Balin, she broke into a grin. “My family are all fools. It’s one of the reasons I chose to become a scholar. Traveling in your company for the past month, I have found Durin’s Folk to be kind, honest, and loyal to a fault.” She paused for a breath, decided not to mention the particular Durin who had cemented this impression on her, and then continued. “Despite the coarseness of your manners and your slightly off-color humor, you have treated me with greater respect than my own kin. You have shown honor of the highest quality. And hearing your stories and songs has left me no doubt as to the richness of your culture. Yours is a venerable, noble heritage unrivaled by anything my village elders can boast. My people know nothing. And for my own part, I could never condone the views of such small-minded clodpolls.”

She put on her best pleading face and launched into the finale. “Please, Balin: teach me your language, your history, your stories and songs. I want to tell the world how wrong they are about you. I have become very fond of you all, you know.” Her oration concluded, Y/N sat back and waited.

Balin remained so still that for a moment she wondered if she had gone too far with the insults. Then a smirk appeared on his face and he shook his head, chuckling. “You are a force to be reckoned with, lass. It has been long since I have had to match wits with the likes of you. ‘Venerable’, eh?” He chuckled again, more warmly.

“Aye. I cannot see what harm it could do. I’ll take it up with Thorin.” Then the old dwarf stood, bid her goodnight, and lumbered off in the direction of his bedroll, leaving her to begin the first watch in the company of her own thoughts.

Y/N couldn’t keep the grin off her face. Perhaps Gandalf had been right. Perhaps here, among these fierce, proud, stubborn, fascinating dwarves, she could trust and be trusted. And with trust, maybe friendship would follow. Maybe even . . .

Ghosts of the past flitted about the edges of her thoughts and she shoved them away, pivoting her focus with a speed born of long practice. She gave the fire a few good pokes, stirring it to life and adding more wood. As the flames licked greedily at the fresh log, she raised her head to scan the camp. Most of the Company had taken to their blankets for the night. But just at the edge of the firelight, Y/N caught the gleam of eyes watching her. She stiffened reflexively. Fili’s golden mane shone in the glow of the renewed blaze, even as his eyes snapped shut. She had caught him staring outright this time. She sighed heavily and tried to relax, but the whispers at the edge of her mind would not fully disperse.

Damn the past! Even without it, she had enough to worry about in the present.  

The following day dawned unseasonably hot, and by mid-morning the singing and laughing gave way to sweating and grumbling. Even Gandalf grew sullen (“Well,” said Bilbo testily, “more sullen than usual at any rate!”). By late afternoon, everyone’s neck was sunburned, everyone’s thighs chafed, and everyone’s tempers worn thin. After toiling up a particularly long and dusty ascent, Gloin, riding at the front with Gandalf, gave a shout. The party drew up at the crest of the hill and gazed down upon a welcome sight. A small green valley fell away below them, leafy tree tops stretching away down the slope and sunlight glinting on water at the bottom. The dwarves cheered, and raced down the rocky incline into the shade of the wood, Y/N and Bilbo – whose riding skills were a bit less accomplished - following somewhat slower behind under the watchful eyes of Gandalf and Thorin. By the time the stragglers caught up with the rest of the group, the ponies had been tied up in a circle and already half-unladen, and a campsite was quickly unfolding on the verge of a small, clear lake.

“I guess we make camp here tonight” Thorin rumbled dryly, but Y/N caught the hint of a smile that played upon his lips as he watched his nephews shedding their clothes and weapons in a mad dash to the water. Y/N smiled too. A swim sounded like the best thing in the world at that moment! But – she glanced up just in time to see Kili dive headfirst off an enormous boulder, his chiseled body cleaving the surface with a splash – she would have to wait her turn. While nobody who knew her could call Y/N a prude, the dwarves had shown a deep concern for her modesty and “reputation”, and out of respect and affection she refrained from challenging their peculiar sensibilities.

“I’ll go help Bombur get out the cooking gear” she sighed, angling her pony towards the center of the campsite. But it wasn’t long before Bombur too, in an uncharacteristic display of rowdiness, shed his layers and went roaring off the top of the rock himself, swamping his companions with a mighty wave. Y/N laughed heartily and watched the company members for a moment as they wrestled and splashed; especially the blonde prince as he lifted his brother bodily and threw him off the rock down upon the surface of the water with a resounding ‘SMACK!’ She winced in solidarity, then looked away, smirking to herself as she built up the fire. Just because she had to wait her turn didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the view!

Suddenly a shadow loomed over her. “My dear Y/N!” Gandalf’s voice interrupted her colorful thoughts.

“Hmm?” She raised her eyebrows and glanced up at him with an innocent smile. “Yes, my dear Gandalf?”

The wizard’s eyes glittered beneath his hat. “Why don’t you and Bilbo put your plant lore to good use and see if you can’t find something to add to our pot. Hmm?” He arched one tremendous eyebrow knowingly at her.

Y/N grinned wickedly. “Spoilsport!” she whispered loudly, then rose off her haunches and called to the hobbit, “Bilbo dear, Gandalf wants some vegetables for his stew. Would you care to accompany me?” Bilbo, looking uncomfortably hot and a little flustered himself (while he generally didn’t mind bathing amidst the dwarves, the sort of rough play currently churning up the lake made him more than a little anxious) hurried after her down the shore in search of wild greens and edible flora.

When they returned sometime later, arms full of wood sorrel, watercress, and mushrooms (Bilbo was especially proud of the large number of black morels he had found) the dwarves had finished their swim and set up a well-ordered camp. Y/N and Bilbo’s vegetables, combined with a quantity of dried meat, salt, and barley, promised a hearty supper, and everyone’s spirits felt lighter for it. Everyone, that is, except Y/N and Bilbo, whose sweat-damp clothes and burning skin now begged for a dip in the lake. The moment Bombur set the cauldron over the fire, Bilbo scurried off towards the water, now blessedly calm and free of dwarven gladiators. Trying not to look too eager, Y/N gathered her pack and set off down the shoreline away from the others, her mind already adrift on the crystal waters.

“Don’t wander too far, or we won’t be able to hear you and come rescue you if you drown!” Kili taunted her retreating form.

Without turning or breaking stride, she yelled back, “I’m not the one who needs to worry about drowning! Your back flip was a disgrace!” Kili frowned. “That dive was excellent! Where does she get off, telling me that-” Then his brain caught up with her words, and he flushed crimson and began inspecting his bow with single minded focus, pretending to ignore the jeers and whistles of the Company. Fili, however, found their exchange less than amusing. The words “drown” and “rescue” tugged at his heart, and he turned to Thorin where he sat on a log with Gandalf blowing smoke rings.

“Shouldn’t someone go with her?” he asked in what he hoped was a nonchalant tone of voice.  “I mean, at least within earshot?” Thorin raised a questioning eyebrow at his nephew, while Gandalf tried – and mostly failed - to disguise a chuckle as a cough.

“I think,”, Thorin began carefully, “that Y/N is perfectly capable of handling herself in broad daylight, sister-son.” It was true. The sun had lowered towards the tree line, but nowhere near set. Fili could hear Bofur snickering somewhere behind him, and his stinging pride urged him to take a swing at the cheeky Broadbeam. Instead, he nodded curtly to his uncle, who returned the gesture graciously, then went to sort out his bedroll.

Y/N floated on her back, letting her mind drift along with her body in the still waters of a secluded cove. The lake did not disappoint, embracing her chaffed and sunburned skin with waves of cool relief. She knew as soon as the sun dipped behind the trees the temperature would drop uncomfortably, but until that moment she planned to enjoy her swim to the fullest. She gazed up at the cerulean sky, pondering nothing in particular, except maybe how the cloudless blue expanse reminded her of Fili’s eyes . . . She blinked. Then she sighed. Damn it, Y/N! This will not do!

In the days since the market, she had kept her distance from the dwarven prince, unnerved by the intensity of . . . whatever had passed between them. She watched him out of the corner of her eye, trying to piece together how she felt. He was definitely handsome, with his leonine locks, breathtaking eyes, and adorable dimples, and he moved with purpose and certainty: attractive qualities in and of themselves. But she knew from both education and experience that beautiful forms often hide beastly souls. Her thoughts darkened, and she shoved the cloud away with a shiver that had nothing to do with the light evening breeze.

She closed her eyes.

Who are you, Fili? . . .

Not the past. It is dead, buried. It cannot hold me. This is the present. Now. You are here, now.

So, who are you? You are . . .

He was everything she had told Balin last night, and more. Laughter without cruelty. Bravery without bravado. Gracious. Competent. Strong of heart. You love your brother and uncle; will suffer hardship and danger for them. You exude inner light. So different from . . . Her mind reached the edge of an abyss she did not wish to gaze upon, and in retaliation all thoughts stopped. For a handful of heartbeats, she was completely blank. Then she inhaled deeply and repeated the words:

The sins of others do not define me.

The sins of others do not define YOU. The past is dead, buried. It cannot hold me. This is the present. Now. You are here now.

I am here now.

Now, not Then.

Now, not Later.

Now.

But who was he to her now? She had yet to decide. Ever since that unsettling day, despite her intense scrutiny, her instincts remained quiet. She did not sense danger from him, not even a glimmer of ill intent: no prickle at the back of her neck, no knots in her stomach, no urge to flee. On the contrary, she felt an inexplicable desire to get closer to him, to be seen by him. She even contemplated risking the unthinkable: letting her guard down.  

And then there was that whisper of something more: that something in his eyes which had lanced her heart and left her reeling, breathless and astonished.

When he looked at her . . . Elbereth preserve me, those eyes! . . .

Y/N’s heart sped up, and she felt a warmth under her skin that had nothing to do with sunburn or saddle sores. An upwelling of emotions cascaded over her, sweeping away her chronic fear. She remembered how her heart raced when he held her gaze; how her entire body tingled at his touch; how his eyes poured a torrent of questions and feelings into her, unlocking a corresponding flood in her own heart.

She snorted, remembering Kili’s recent jest.

“Who’s going to save you if you drown?” she murmured to the sky.

TAGLIST:

@justfollowtheroad @fizzyxcustard @middleearthpixie @lathalea @blairsanne @fandomfaery @fandomfaeryreads @luna-xial @luna-writes-stuff @i-did-not-mean-to @guardianofrivendell @theblogofdurin @midearthwritings @legolaslovely @laurfilijames @soyeahitsmiddleearth @krispypotato @shiinata-library @izuoyarmin @fortheloveofdurin @eilin-brillewin @filiandkili-sluts @spidergirla5 @tschrist1 @anitdot @brokennerdalert @witchylittlewolf @witchkingachilles

[bangtae-sohotddaeng]

tripping on skies, sipping waterfalls | k.th.

pairing: art-student!taehyung x creative-writing-student!reader 

rating: m (18+)

genre: angst | smut | fluff | humor | college!au | established relationship!au

summary: One drink too many at Hoseok’s Halloween party, and you’ve blanked out on the entire night that followed. Now, who’s gonna fill you in when Taehyung looks one second away from breaking into tears when you bring it up with him? From running across the university campus in remnants of your vampire outfit, to dealing with your downtrodden boyfriend’s disappointed stares - you’re left with one hell of a day, and zero recollections.

warnings: swearing + talks of alcohol (literally the whole tHEME of the story) + casual use of the word “amnesia” by careless college students + sexual situations (nudity, semi-public sexual acts, really explicit makeout sessions, dry-humping, lil bit breast play, lil dirty talking, fingering) + love bites galore.

word count: 19.2 k

note: so. issa a humongous beast, i know. i literally cannot fathom how i wrote these many words without posting anything in between. also, believe it or not, i fleshed out the plot for this fic all the way back in June, 2019. it's taken me nearly two years and a HELL LOTTA editing to the basic storyline to finally be able to finish this off. also, i extended this AU to include all the boys, so...kinda had to rope in their stories, too, lol. hope you enjoy this while i go slave off on the rest of the six fics~ 🥺💜

💟 YOUTH – 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

— masterlist

— feedback is always appreciated!

A knock sounded, seemingly coming from the end of a miles long tunnel. You groaned, pursing your lips against the pounding that echoed in your head in response.

Gosh, what was this? Why was your mind so freaking foggy? What did you do last n—

"Angel? Are you in there with hyung?"

You wrinkled your nose, always hating how your boyfriend's entire group of friends had taken to address you by the pet name he gave you—to the limit where you legitimately didn't always remember that "angel" wasn't your name. They said it was somewhat of a "norm" in their group that came into practice when Jin forbade them all from saying his girl's name. Or getting too friendly by calling her “noona” in a really creepy way.

You'd had eight months' experience of this idiocy now, but that didn't make you cringe any less whenever you heard the address.

You tried swallowing past the sand in your mouth, eyebrows wrinkling as you willed your brain to interpret what the voice said beyond your "name."

And then it registered.

In there? With hyung? 

What the hell?

"What? No, hyung, I can’t just rattle the knob to check—what? I might have heard some... wait. Why? What? No! Noona is—no, she's an adult, I'm sure she can make her own decisions! I’m not going to—I'm disconnecting the call, Namjoon-ssi, this is so uncomfortable!"

Your eyes fluttered open in pitch black darkness. 

Namjoon-ssi? Who was referring to your dumbheaded best friend with such respect?

Wait, wait, wait.

…noona?

Only one person called you…

"Jungkook?" you muttered, wincing at how horrible you sounded.

Releasing a deep breath, you came to the conclusion that you were dealing with a hangover. A really, really bad hangover, because your recollection of how you got to this point was nil.

Blinking, you opened your eyes wider, looking around in an attempt to catch bearings of where you were, because the overwhelming heat wrapped around your body definitely didn't remind you of your cold ass dorm room.

You squirmed, attempting to stick your feet out of the warm covers that seemed to be stifling you whole, specifically your legs and your midsection.

"Nuuuu~nghhh…"

You froze.

What the—?

The voice—well, more of a groan that you couldn't really comprehend—had come from somewhere near your rib cage. 

You pulled your arms down from where they were rested under your pillow, wincing at the soreness that'd taken residence in them. With slight shaky fingers, you reached over to where you hoped the nightstand would be. To your luck, your fingers brushed over a smooth table top before bumping into what felt like a button that could belong to a bedside lamp.

Swallowing the cotton wool lodged in your throat, you pressed down with your index and middle fingers, immediately hissing in discomfort when blinding light burned your corneas.

"Whaaa~nuuuuu…"

Something soft brushed against the underside of your boobs. Your eyes immediately snapped open wide, disregarding the killer headache that ensued. Your heart was pounding hard, fear climbing up your windpipe as you looked down.

Your naked boobs greeted your line of vision, followed by a mop of black hair.

You heaved in a huge gulp of air.

No. 

No, no, no, no, this couldn't—

Was this—

Did you—

Were you naked?

You didn't realise when your eyes had squeezed shut, but they fluttered open when a contented hum echoed around you, a small gust of warm breath brushing against your stomach.

"Uh…" You wanted to say something to the fluffy, dark hair moving around over your abdomen, but you were at a loss. 

Why was he lying over your naked body? God, was he naked, too?

What the heck had happened last night?

"Whoa." The fluffball on your abdomen moved completely, and a pair of round, pretty eyes connected with yours past your bared breasts. "What a beautiful sight to wake up to. Good morning, baby."

You involuntarily shivered at your boyfriend's gravelly morning voice. The damn pitch that was deeper than the ocean on the regular, tended to penetrate the layers of the earth itself when he woke up.

But…

Oh, God. You had only ever seen him topless. And only seen, not even touched. Or more. So, waking up to being topless and under him was making your heart beat out of your chest, and your body burn with sparks, all over.

"Um, Tae…"

"Hmm?" Plump lips connected to your skin, dragging over the sides of your breasts.

Your breathing was immediately unsteady even when your eyes widened in alarm. "T—Tae, wait…" You swallowed thickly when he climbed up your body and set his hands on the bed next to your pillow, his face hovering inches above yours.

You breathed in, preparing to speak past the bundle of nerves in your throat, and—froze. 

A corner of your lips twitched.

His eyes were surrounded by huge pools of black, that you could now recall was eyeliner that you'd meticulously applied on him, last evening. The bright red lipstick he'd gone for in order to finish off his vampire look, was now smudged all the way down to his chin. 

Despite the killer throbbing in your head and your panic at your state of undress, you couldn't hold back a fit of laughter at the sight. "Tae, baby—your makeup…" You managed to mumble between bouts of uncontrollable giggles.

Taehyung just grinned at you, shaking his head in silent humor. "As if you're any better. Ooh, look at this!" His eyes suddenly widened, focusing on your neck. "Your neck looks like you got attacked by a vampire, baby."

You smacked his chest with a harrumph, ignoring the warm, firm feel of it, rolling your eyes when he broke into laughter. "Pretty sure you were the one that did it, smartass."

"Well. I don't see a problem with it. We were supposed to be vampire mates, after all." Flashing you a smirk that would've been a lot more irresistible to you if it weren't for all the smudged lipstick on his face, Taehyung rolled off your body to sit at the edge of the bed. "This headache, though… ugh…" He groaned, massaging his forehead with a hand. "How much did we have to drink, Angel?

You slowly sat up in bed, dragging the sheets to cover yourself all the way up to your neck. Your brows furrowed in concern. How much did you have to drink, for real? The way you couldn't seem to recall literally anything from the party last night was kind of a sign that it had gone beyond your limits.

Clearing your throat in nervousness, you lifted the edge of the sheet to take a peek at yourself, breathing a tiny sigh of relief on finding your panties still wrapped around your hips. So at least you hadn't gone all the way, right?

Right?

"Hey, Tae," you called out, stopping your boyfriend on his way to the bathroom. He was clad only in a pair of boxers that accentuated his plump butt, which was also a first time experience for you, but you figured that it was better than nothing. "We, uh, what did we do last night?"

Taehyung looked at you over his shoulder, brows slightly creased in confusion. "What? We went to Hobi hyung's Halloween party, baby, dressed as vampires. Hence the makeup…?"

You shook your head, gulping down your nerves. Taehyung had completely turned around to look at you, now, arms crossed against his bare chest. In spite of the ridiculously smudged makeup on his face, he made a damn appealing sight. You willed your gaze to not stray down to his sculpted thighs for the sake of your own sanity.

"Angel?"

"I—I mean...after," you mumbled with flaming cheeks. 

Your asshole of a boyfriend grinned wickedly at that, moving his hands to place them on his hips. "Uh huh. After, baby? What do you think?" He gave you an exaggerated wink.

You looked down at your fingernails, your entire body almost shivering out of nervousness and each one of your nerve endings inducing sparks all across your body. You were pretty sure you were blushing all the way from your ears, down to your chest.

Soft thumps of feet padding across the floor echoed around the room. You felt his warmth near you before his fingers tapped beneath your chin, prompting you to look up.

You did, eyes widened and breathing halted.

Taehyung's brows were lowered and lips pursed together as he looked at you with soft, concerned eyes. "Do you…do you not remember anything?"

The hesitation in his voice almost caused your heart to stop beating. Why was he being like this? Had the two of you actually done it, last night?

And…you didn't even remember anything?

"Angel?"

"Oh, God, Taehyung! Why do I not remember?" you suddenly cried out. 

"Hey, hey, baby, it's okay!"

What? No, it wasn't.

You'd had sex with your boyfriend for the first ever time after eight months of dating, four out of which you'd spent dreaming extremely lewd and inappropriate dreams about him, and now―and now you didn't remember it!

"I'll go take a shower, and then we can talk about last night. Okay, baby? Hey, look at me," Taehyung softly spoke to you, carding long, elegant fingers of one of his hands through your hair. He cupped your cheek with the other. "Don't worry, Angel, you're just hungover right now. I'm sure it'll all come back once your head's feeling better."

You swallowed thickly, kinda pissed at yourself for feeling so emotional about this, but kinda more pissed at your drunk self for doing the do with the love of your life when she knew she was too far gone to retain the memories.

"I love you, baby," said love of your life murmured to you, leaning in to peck your forehead softly.

"Love you too, baby," you mumbled back, watching, from the corner of your eye, as his shapely ass made its way down the room and into the bathroom.

You exhaled, loudly. Even though you loved him beyond measure and trusted him completely, you didn't wanna talk to Taehyung, right now. He remembered everything from last night, and the torn, hesitant, kinda hurt look in his eyes made you feel insecure and disadvantaged.

You knew you had to cure your hangover first, vent out about how dumb you felt, and have someone reassure you that forgetting about your first time with your boyfriend wasn't the end of the world, before having that conversation with Taehyung.

And you also knew how you were gonna accomplish that.

You needed your best friend.

You’d already pounded on the door like crazy twice by the time you first heard movement from inside. What the hell was Namjoon busy with now? Hadn't he called Jungkook up just a while earlier, causing the boy to wake you up?

It was one o'clock on a Sunday morning, anyway. There was no way someone like Namjoon was busy.

Wait. Hadn’t he been at the party last night, too? You couldn’t really recall, to be honest.

God, what was Hobi serving last night? 

Tapping your feet impatiently, you scratched at your cheek. The water base, super dry moisturiser you’d stolen from your boyfriend’s roommate was definitely not meant to suit your skin type. But you had no choice. You were in a crisis. You had needed to escape the dorm before Taehyung came out of the bathroom, and you couldn’t have exactly walked out with the remnants of last night’s vampire makeup all over your face.

You looked down at your ridiculous attire consisting of the leather shorts you wore last night, topped with a huge, off white sweatshirt you'd found lying over the living room couches. You guessed it was Taehyung's, but you were, embarrassingly, not completely certain and it very well could have been Jungkook's. Either way, it didn't really matter, ’cause, as mentioned before, you were in a freaking crisis. Your feet were wrapped up in the spare pair of bathroom slippers you kept at Tae's.

Exhaling loudly, you pulled up your arm to bang heavily against the damn door, again. "Where the fuck are you, Namjoon? Open up!"

Mere seconds later, grumbles seeped through the door to you, and then it was slowly unbolted.

You were gonna straight up fall into Namjoon and legit beg him to comfort you until your body melted—

"Well, hello there, sexy cheeks! What a pleasant surprise!"

You groaned aloud. Just what you needed to make this morning a bigger headache—your best friend's roadside romeo, can-never-keep-it-in-his-pants, creep of a roommate. "Jackson. Get the fuck out of my w—"

"And, FYI, I was referring to your ass cheeks."

You gritted your teeth. "Where's Joon?"

The cocky guy in front of you shifted to set his hips against the doorjamb. "Sleeping. He came in late, last night. That damned loser was at the party till two am on a Saturday night, and didn’t even bring a girl back home. What a fucking waste."

You squinted at him. "Bullshit. He called Jungkook earlier."

"Yeah, well, he went back to sleep after that. It's Sunday, sexy cheeks, even a nerd like Joon is allowed to sleep in today. He's been working his ass off at the library for a couple nights, anyway."

"Stop stereotyping him." You rolled your eyes. "Will you move?"

Jackson's silver blonde hair moved across his forehead as he tilted his head to look at you with a sly grin. "What if I refuse?"

"I'll stab you and walk over your body."

His eyes momentarily widened, but then he gave a nervous giggle. "O–oh? We won't want that to happen now, would we? Come on in, sexy cheeks!"

"Stop calling me that!" you snapped, walking into the dorm and heading straight towards Namjoon's bedroom.

"What? But that's my pet name for you! I don't wanna call you Angel like the rest of the fucking college!"

"It's just seven guys, Wang, jeez. Also, I actually have a name?" you yelled over your shoulder, fiddling with the awful door knob on Namjoon's bedroom door that was almost always jammed. Like it was right now. Good God!

"Your name? That's so mainstream, babe, have some respect for my vibe, at the very least."

"I'm not your babe!"

"But you could be!"

"I'll slap you, Jackson, shut the—" you broke off with a grunt as the doorknob finally twisted free. But your relief had a super short life, because then you had to nearly cause your shoulder to rupture when you tried to get the door to budge. "Why does this idiot not complain about getting this shitty fucking door changed? He'll get stuck in there someday and die, I'm telling you."

"Whoa. You're contemplating way too many murders for a Sunday morning, sexy cheeks. All okay?"

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "You want me to actually commit one of them?"

Jackson's eyes widened and he slowly retracted his steps to the kitchen, where he presumably was before he came to open the door, given the apron he'd tied over his muscle tee and the random patches of white powder that covered his exposed upper arms. You rolled your eyes once again, and gave a particularly hard push to the door, making yourself stumble in as the door suddenly opened.

Namjoon stood on the other side, though, eyes barely open and silver blonde hair mussed. 

He was shirtless, in the process of trying to unwind a twisted up t-shirt. "Whoa, whoa—hol' up—when did I say you could come in?"

You paused. Your eyebrows lowered. Your eyes narrowed. The audacity?!

"I've seen you pantless, Namjoon," you deadpanned. 

"Wha—is that even a word—"

"Dude, I've seen your penis when it wasn't as big as my pinky toe!"

"Okay, hang on now, it's got to be at least the pinky finger—"

"We were four. It was the pinky toe." You exhaled when Namjoon gave up and went back to getting into a t-shirt over his plaid shorts. "Are you not looking at me, right now? Do you not see what kind of a wreck I am? What sort of a best friend are you?"

"Uh, a sleep deprived one? And, for the record, I actually am not looking at you, 'cause my eyes aren't exactly open and functioning at the moment, anyway."

You shot him a glare, but then exhaled and slumped down on his bed with your shoulders drooped. "I fucked up, Joonie."

Namjoon stopped in the process of blindly hunting for his glasses in the top drawer of his nightstand. He looked at you, complete with his swollen ass eyes and bee stung lips. You would have laughed if your own tragedy wasn't laughable in itself.

"Stop gawking!"

Namjoon shut his mouth and straightened up. "I, uh… You fucked up? Kinda hard to swallow. You're an inspiration to everyone, babe. Angel never fucks up."

You groaned a little upon hearing the wretched "pet name" tumble so smoothly from your best friend's lips. "Angel? Really, Joon?"

Namjoon shrugged, standing on his toes and extending his arms above his head in a full body stretch before he settled on the twin bed next to you. "I've got to, hun. You know how Jin hyung gets when he hears any of us call you anything but Angel."

"He's not here right now, though, is he?"

"Well, I'm trying to practice." He shrugged a shoulder. "So, are you here to pointlessly argue with me, or are you here to discuss how, exactly, did you fuck up? You were with Tae last night from what I gathered out of Jungkook's flustered half-sentences. Did something happen between you guys?"

"Yes?" You grimaced. And then you thickly swallowed. "I… I had sex with Taehyung.”

You looked at him when Namjoon had been silent for too long. He was blinking at you. "I don't see any fucking up happening, Angel, only fucking Tae."

Oh, how you'd slap him into the next galaxy if you had the energy at the moment. "Kim Namjoon, I swear to God—"

"Okay, okay, sorry. So. How does having sex with your boyfriend equate to fucking up? What'd I miss?"

You sighed. "I was completely hammered, and don't remember a single thing."

Namjoon's eyebrows rose very slowly. "Wait…what?"

You frowned. "Don't make me repeat it, Joon."

"I'm not, girl, but. Just. I—I don't seem to comprehend."

"I had sex with him for the first fucking time, Namjoon, and I don't remember a single detail! You know, I wanted to know how it all went down, how intense, sexy and gorgeous he looked on top of me. I wanted to save it to my memory. If he was on top. Otherwise, what he looked like when desperate and begging below me."

"Wait—"

"But I remember nothing! I'm so embarrassed, Joon! Maybe he put those gorgeous ass fingers of his to good use. I bet he did!"

"Hey—"

"I don't even know if he ate me out or if I sucked him off, because I would have loved to, before we—"

"Holy fuck, stop! I don’t wanna hear that, gross!" Namjoon pressed both his palms against his ears, his face pulled into an expression of utter disgust. His mouth opened, probably to give you a piece of scolding, but then his gaze dropped to your exposed collarbones and his eyebrows raised. He removed his hands with wide eyes. "Now, I don’t know about those dirty freaking details, and I don’t want to—but I can guess that your night was definitely passionate. Maybe a bit rough."

You frowned, following his line of sight—

And then sprung to your feet with a loud gasp. "Holy fucking shit! What the hell—"

"Whoa—"

You gripped the neckline of the hoodie and tugged it away from your chest. "He left bruises, Joon, these aren't just bites!"

"Wait, wait—"

"God damn—" You struggled to wrestle the hoodie off your body.

"No—"

"I need to fucking see, Joon—"

"But I don't!" Namjoon squeaked. 

You managed to remove the hoodie completely, your hands busy patting around your boobs to feel for bruises. You looked up at your best friend to find him turned away with both his palms pressed up against his eyes.

It took you a moment to realise that he was throwing a fit about you being topless in front of him. You exhaled. "Must I remind you that you've seen me pantless, too, Joon?"

"We were kids! And now we're not! I don't wanna pop a boner for my childhood best friend that I've shared poops with!"

You grimaced. "You won't, Joon. It's as you said—we've shared poops. It's physically impossible for us to get turned on by each other."

"I'm still a straight guy, though, and boobs are boobs."

You clicked your tongue, choosing to walk into his bathroom to, partially, save him from dying out of panic, but mostly analyse your upper body in the mirror. 

You hummed to yourself when you found a blossoming patch of pink right under your left boob, and an almost navy spot above your right nipple.

You fought a whimper of despair. Sex with Taehyung seemed like something that’d get you wet by memories alone. But you'd already missed your first chance to make them.

You grumpily stomped back to Namjoon's bed and collected the hoodie you'd tossed on it. Pulling it over, you smacked a turned away Namjoon upside his head. "I'm dressed, loser."

"Not wanting to see your boobs makes me a loser?"

"Making a big fucking deal out of it while I'm stuck in a very embarrassing and kind of an impossible situation does!"

“Oh my God, fine! Let’s just talk about that stupid, overthinking brain of yours.”

Your mouth falls open. “The fuck? I’m not overthinking, Joon, for the love of—”

“Okay! Just—stop with all the cursing, you sound like Yoongi hyung!” Namjoon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let’s get the basics down, then. Observe, analyse and calculate. You’ll tell me about how you feel in certain...areas of your body, and then we’ll conclude if any sex even actually happened or if you’re fussing over nothing. ’Kay?”

You dumbly blinked. If any sex even actually happened? You didn’t need any testing for that, Taehyung’s face had been more than enough to tell you. “No?” you sneered at Namjoon. “I know it happened. I need to know how to recall the details. Do you know, like, some brain exercise or something? Like, running a mental disk defragmenter of sorts?”

Namjoon sighed. “Listen—”

“Also, can you please dye your hair and stop twinning with the asshole next door? I feel like I’m talking to him and it makes me wanna puke.”

Namjoon sighed again. “He’s gonna dye his hair to match mine like he always does, it’s pointless.”

“Then shave it off.”

“Ouch, woman.”

“What?” You scowled at him, rummaging through his wardrobe to try and make yourself slightly more presentable. “And get ready. We’re gonna go get some breakfast. Greasy and cheesy. And you’re gonna tell me what to do. And I’m calling Munchkin to join us.”

As you carried a pair of sweatpants into the bathroom, you heard your best friend murmur something like, “this is gonna be a long day.”

Taehyung sat sprawled all over the living room couch, barely looking up when Jungkook's room's door opened. His eyes kept digging holes into your phone that you'd left behind when you made your—very obviously hurried—exit while he was in the shower. Why, though?

Taehyung was fucking confuddled.

"Oh, finally!" Jungkook's surprised voice floated over to him moments before the boy himself rounded the couch to look down at him, entering his peripheral vision with a water bottle in hands. "Where's noona? Tell her to call Namjoon hyung, he rang me up…worrying…about her…um. Hyung? You okay?"

Taehyung blinked, raising his brows as he hummed in question, refocusing his gaze on the younger boy. "What?"

"Did you, uh, hear anything I said?" Jungkook looked at him cautiously, taking wary sips of water.

"Yeah, I heard." Taehyung looked down at his hands. "She's not here, she left."

"Left? On her own? You didn’t drop her off?" Jungkook sounded innocently curious. He chuckled. "You still hungover, or what?"

Taehyung sighed. "Well, no. But she didn't ask me to drop her. Didn't even tell me she was leaving. Also left her phone behind, for some reason."

"Maybe she was in a hurry to get away from you after last night?" Jungkook's eyes were wide in alarm even before Taehyung shot him a glare. "Sorry, I didn't… Um. That was a stupid joke, I don’t even know why I said that when I don't even know anything. Um. Sorry."

"No, you're probably right," Taehyung regretfully mumbled, raking a hand through his hair. "She was gone within five minutes."

"And is that why she stole my hoodie, too?"

Taehyung's head snapped up, again. What did he mean by that? He found Jungkook frowning at one of the armrests of the couch. "The fuck did you say?"

Jungkook's big, innocent eyes looked at him in panic. "I—I mean, I left it here after I spilt ketchup on it! Remember yesterday's lunch burgers? And now it's…well. Not here."

Taehyung rolled his eyes, secretly exhaling in relief, while at the same time annoyed at himself for thinking stupid shit. And also at Jungkook for making him think it. "The hell, Kook? How does that mean she took it?"

Jungkook squinted at him. "Okay, so then did you take it? Because I sure as heck didn't touch it, hyung."

Taehyung stilled, realising that the boy was probably right, because the top you'd worn last night was still lying on his bedroom floor. He bit his lip. Had you actually been in such a hurry to get away? Get away from him?

Did you…hate him for last night? But you'd very clearly reassured him that you wanted it and were ready and you looked actually excited about it. 

You’d looked really excited about it.

But maybe you were too sloshed to think then, but were trying to avoid him with your mind sober. Maybe you regretted agreeing.

Oh no. Oh no.

"We were drunk off our asses, last night," he tried to fruitlessly dissuade Jungkook, his voice coming out tight. Because what did it even matter if you'd already changed your mind? "Maybe your drunk ass used it to clean up your whizz and then threw it out your window and forgot?"

Jungkook's gaze turned even more speculative. 

Taehyung looked away, eyes landing back on your phone. Distress gripped him.

"Um."

Taehyung rolled his eyes. "Say it."

Jungkook cleared his throat, awkwardly scratching the back of his head when Taehyung looked up to meet his shifty eyes. "Did you, uh. Did you and noona have a fight?"

Taehyung slunk lower in his place. "No, but we would now."

Jungkook cleared his throat in response before soundly gulping down water.

Taehyung almost laughed at his discomfort. The younger probably felt Taehyung needed some sort of counseling or suggestions, but he really didn't. And it wasn't just because he and Jungkook were not the best of friends despite being roommates for nearly a year now and part of the same group of friends for nearly six. No, he actually did not want it because that would make him worry that much more. He'd rather talk to you—apologize to you and try to make you understand as much as he'd be able to—whenever you decided to contact him.

Not that Jungkook would be good at consoling him, either way—the boy was horrible with words and had zero tact. His world revolved around gaming and studying music and minimal human interaction, a complete contrast to everything Taehyung was. Which was somewhat of a reason why they worked out so well as roommates.

"Uh…we…um. Nevermind." Jungkook turned to leave.

Taehyung mustered a chuckle. "Say it, Kook." 

"Do you wanna go to Jin hyung's?" he spoke in a single breath.

Jin—the oldest in their group of friends and also the one Taehyung was the closest to—lived in a four bedroom apartment shared by Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin, and often, Jin's girlfriend, too, which was owned by a family member of Hoseok's. Namjoon, your best friend and the final member of the group, lived in a dorm on the other side of the campus, similar to Taehyung's own, with a school friend of his.

Now. Jungkook, being the youngest of the entire lot, was extremely insecure and conscious of himself around Jin. And so, despite nearly licking the very ground Yoongi walked on due to the guy's musical prowess that Jungkook was a fan of, the younger boy always tried to avoid visiting the house if not for extreme case scenarios when the entire group gathered there for activities that he was not allowed to skip. He usually just called Yoongi over.

And he was suggesting they visit? This had to have taken some guts.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at him. "You wanna go to that house?"

"Well, not really." Jungkook's cheeks tinged pink. "But you look like you could use Jin hyung's advice and stuff. He also, um, makes yummy hot chocolate. Jimin hyung and Hobi hyung could cheer you up, and. Um. Yoongi hyung could help me with my…semester project?"

"And here I thought you were being thoughtful!" Taehyung let out a laugh. “You just want Yoongi hyung’s help, you selfish brat.”

Jungkook ducked his head. “A little bit of both?” He clicked his tongue, whining. "Come on, hyung, I'm trying here!"

"I know, I know." Taehyung rolled his eyes but nodded, ending Jungkook's misery.

He eyed your phone and released a shaking, nervous breath. 

“Well, I'm sort of driving myself nuts by sitting here. Let’s just go.”

“This is a disaster.”

You thumped your head against the table, groaning. “Gee, thanks, babe. Makes me feel so much better. I should’ve just gone back to the dorm. Wendy would’ve given me ice cream, at least.”

Your other only-best-friend-in-this-world—other than Namjoon, that is—rolled her mascara laden eyes. “It’s not my duty to make you feel better. I’m here to show you the mirror and be honest, not give you ice cream and kiss your boo-boos like your pussy roommate. That’s not helping. That’s ignoring the problem.”

“Fair point.” You sat up and looked down in your lap. “So. Do you honestly think I’m doomed?”

“I honestly think you’re stupid.”

You shot a glare at her.

“You’re making a big deal out of nothing! You yourself said you both had your lower regions covered, right?” At your nod, she clicked her tongue. “So you’re not even sure if you had sex, in the first place. And even if you did, so what? He’s your freaking boyfriend, bitch! Grab him and do the do whenever!”

“Will you tone it down?” 

You jumped. And then scoffed when Namjoon settled on the empty chair on your other side, putting the tray of your frothing, steaming beverages down between you three.

"Tell me why you nicknamed this one munchkin and not guerrilla, again?" Namjoon grumbled, scowling at your girl best friend. "She's got their lung capacity."

"Because she's got munchkin legs," you mumbled, hurriedly bringing the styrofoam cup to your mouth to taste nirvana. “Ah, this is so good! And she walks super slow, like a freakin’ munchkin.”

"Oh, so that's also an insult?" Namjoon looked at your best friend with gleaming eyes. "I thought it was a pet name!"

Her eyes narrowed at Namjoon for a second, before her expressions dropped into a lascivious smile. "You thought it was cute, didn't you?" she dramatically batted her lashes, leaning closer to Namjoon, pushing her voluminous chest out. “You think I’m cute too, dontcha, Joon bug?”

Namjoon, immune to her dramatic, completely unnecessary seduction, blew a raspberry in her face. 

“Ew, you animal!” she shrieked, flinching away as droplets of spit rained on her face. “Gross!”

“You asked for it,” Namjoon deadpanned, sipping from his cup. 

“Guys,” you began. “Can we please talk about what I should do?”

“Uh, can I please also mention what you should not have done?” Munchkin squinted at you. At your noncommittal shrug, her expressions morphed into a sharp glare. “Sneak out. I mean, he’s your damn boyfriend of nearly quarter of a year, babe! Why the hell would you want to confide in Captain Dumbass, over here, and not him?”

“My IQ’s greater than you, but other than that—valid point, dude.” Namjoon turned to stare you down. “When it all winds down, and you end up sorting it out, he’s still gonna be hurt that you ran away, man.”

You bit your lip. You hadn’t thought of it that way. “I forgot my phone at his place, too, so I couldn’t even text him.”

This time Munchkin turned her horrified gaze at Namjoon, and Namjoon at you. “What?” he squeaked. “You haven’t even texted him this entire time? Why didn’t you ask for my phone?”

“It’s almost three,” Munchkin mumbled. “He’s gonna be so pissed.” Her eyes suddenly turned wicked. “Imagine the angry sex.”

You snorted, bitterly. “How? I got fucking amnesia after our first time together, remember? I don’t even know what to imagine.”

Your best friends groaned in unison.

The second Hoseok invited them in, Jungkook went off like an arrow towards the direction of Yoongi's room.

Taehyung gave a dry chuckle, raising his eyebrows at Hoseok’s puffy eyes as he waved his hand before the guy’s face in greeting. “Good morning, hyung!” he said with fake cheeriness to grate on the elder’s nerves. 

Hoseok gave him the most venomous scowl Taehyung had ever seen on the guy’s face and walked away.

“He was cleaning up till six am and then Jin hyung woke him up at nine to go grocery shopping!” Jimin called from his slump on the couch, past the entry hall. “Poor guy didn’t even get to get his dick wet in his own party.”

“Of course you’d mention that,” Taheyung snorted, moving to join Jimin in what seemed like a Netflix marathon. “What’s this?” He nodded towards the 50-inch.

“Pretty Little Liars,” Jimin mumbled, lifting his feet enough to make room for Taehyung and then rested them back in his lap. “It’s a story of some girls. Who lie. Because that is all that girls fucking do, apparently.”

Taehyung, despite his mental disposition, found himself snorting in amusement for the second time. “Where’s Jin hyung?”

“Dropping noona off at Jackson’s. They’re in a fight, so don’t ask him about her.” Jimin raised a brow. “All okay?”

“They're fighting? How're you handling it?" Taehyung teased, well aware of Jimin's fear of conflicts between the group's oldest couple, and got a glare back. "And, not all's okay. Kinda had a shitty night.”

“Could not have been shittier than mine. You came in with your babe, made out in every corner of the house, held her when she did a keg stand, leftmaking out—what could go wrong?”

Taehyung grimaced but didn’t protest. “When did Jin hyung leave? I didn’t see him on my way over. Why’s Honey noona even friends with that pretentious jackass Jackson, nobody likes him,” he chose to comment on Jin’s girlfriend’s questionable life choices, instead.

“Nobody but Namjoon. Don’t forget they live together. And he and noona are family friends, you know that.” Jimin frowned. “Why’re you so eager to see Jin hyung? He didn’t really say when he’d get back. Maybe he and Honey noona are…making-up. If you know what I mean. I sincerely hope they are,” he added with a despaired stare skywards as if tossing a prayer up to God.

“Shut up, pervert. I'll just text him.” Taehyung waved a dismissive hand, pulling out his phone.

Jimin cleared his throat. “At least ask me why my night was shittier, you ass.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes, shooting Jimin a flat look. “You didn’t get laid, I already know it.”

“Well, that, yes. But also, the circumstances leading up to me not getting laid? Ugh.” Jimin scrunched his nose. “So there’s this cute, little, busty babe, okay? Shaking her boobs up in my face, and I know she wants to fuck, but. I can see how sloshed she is, so I, you know? Hold back.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrows, still typing away on his phone. “Doubt that.”

“I did, okay? Wait till you hear the rest of it.” Jimin’s head dangled off the armrest, upside down and Taehyung could only see his neck as he spoke. “She comes on too strong, and at one point—I can’t resist. But when she’s on her knees, she’s so confused that I… man, I felt so bad. She was wasted, dude!” Jimin pulled himself back up, nestling his head against the armrest as he frowned at Taehyung. “So I tell her no. She cries. I try to comfort her, but she just keeps sobbing. And then she fucking throws up all over my carpet and—I still fucking try to take care of her. And, you know, after I’ve given her hugs and a water bottle and so much pep talk—her phone rings and she says she has to go. Now, get this.” Jimin sits up, now scowling at Taehyung. “She has a fucking boyfriend.”

Taehyung couldn’t hold back the laughter that burst out of him, his head rolling back against the back of the couch as he held his stomach. Just the one time in his life Jimin tried to be a gentleman, it backfired. But it served Jimin right for trying to get into everyone’s pants. He told the guy as much.

Jimin scoffed. “I don’t try to get into everyone’s pants, dude. I’ve never tried to turn the charm on you, have I?”

“’Cause you know you’d fail.”

“I would not and you better believe that, Kim Taehyung.” Jimin suddenly licked his lips and sat up to get into Taehyung's personal space. “You see these lips? They—”

“Yah, Park Jimin! Get your paws off my dongsaeng!” Jin entered the house with a booming yell.

Taehyung sighed in relief, grateful for more reasons than one. “Morning, hyung!”

“It’s afternoon, brat!”

“I thought he was your dongsaeng?” Jimin mocked. “And for the record, he’s mine, too.”

“I’m barely three months younger, Jimin, fuck off.”

“Tae! Leave this idiot be and go wait in my room. I’ll join you in a bit.”

Taehyung stood up to locate Jin to find the older one heating something up in the microwave, aggressively pushing things around. It was a strange sight. Jin’s temperament was always cooler than a cucumber. And he especially tended to his kitchen appliances and utensils with an impossibly tender hand. He was clearly agitated, completely unlike how he normally was. Was his fight with his girlfriend that bad? 

As if sensing his gaze, Jin looked up, concern shining in his eyes when they met Taehyung’s. Taehyung imagined his own must have reflected it back. “You okay, hyung?”

Jin sighed. “Been better,” he tiredly mumbled, running a hand down his face. “I saw your texts. I gather you haven’t eaten?”

Taehyung nodded, silently, walking around the couch to join the older in the kitchen. Settling on a stool, he observed Jin's furrowed eyebrows and set jaw. Something had to have happened recently, or he'd have noticed something in Jin's behaviour earlier.

“I haven’t eaten either, hyung,” Jimin yelled from the living room, sounding offended instead of whiny or seductive, for once. “This sort of favoritism is too much, even for you.”

Jin narrowed his eyes at Jimin. “You know, every time Honey ignores me, I'm immediately reminded of how you could have taken that blonde to your own room, Park Jimin. So no, the favouritism isn't too much. And for the record, you’re more than capable of feeding yourself. This one? Not so much, right now.”

Taehyung hung his head, curious about what all Jin just said to Jimin, but also immensely floored by Jin’s concern for his own well being. Despite clearly not being in the right state of mind himself, he was still caring for Taehyung. He mentally thanked Jungkook for bringing him here.

Clearing his throat, Taehyung placed his hands on the kitchen counter. “When I didn't see Honey-noona at the party last night, I thought it was work related. You two often skip parties to catch up on your beauty sleep and all that. Is something the matter, hyung?"

Jin extracted some sort of noodles from the microwave and shut his eyes. "She's mad at me."

Taehyung's eyebrows rose. Jin and his girl had been together for over five years, now. They were past the stages of fighting over petty things. It had to be serious. "Oh?"

"And it was triggered by something that idiot did!" Jin finished, pointing an accusatory finger at Jimin.

The latter clicked his tongue. "For the last time, hyung," Jimin called out, sounding exasperated, "she’s mad over something else. The sooner you figure that out instead of blaming me every time you meet her, the faster your fight would be resolved.” He peeked at Jin over the couch's back. "And can you please make a quick work of it? I hate this phase…"

Taehyung’s eyebrows lifted up. Escaping the blame—classic Jimin. “What, exactly, did you do, Jimin? What blonde didn’t you take to your own room?” he asked, repeating Jin’s words from earlier.

“Irrelevant. He’s actually correct,” Jin interrupted, walking out of the kitchen. “You'll understand when I tell you. But right now, let’s talk about your problem. Come on.”

Although Taehyung was both curious and worried about Jin’s fight, he was more downtrodden due to his own situation at the moment, so he decided to follow the older boy upstairs, to Jin's room.

On entering the room, Taehyung slumped into Jin’s armchair while the man himself turned on the lights and made his way towards Taehyung with a water bottle and a huge bowl of reheated chicken noodles in hands.

Taehyung uncapped the bottle as soon as it was handed to him, not realising how badly parched all the worrying had gotten him. 

“I, uh, went to the shop you texted me. Have you guys really talked it through?”

Taehyung’s head snapped up. “What?” he asked, swallowing a huge gulp of water.

Jin cracked a smile for the first time. “One of the thirteen texts you sent me was about this shop, remember? It was on the way, so I dropped by to look around, but I couldn't really choose—”

Taehyung’s phone rang, interrupting Jin. It was Namjoon. They both frowned.

What if the guy was still calling to ask about you, like he did this morning? Taehyung had assumed that you’d have talked to Namjoon, at least. His eyes widened when it hit him — you’d left your phone behind, how would you contact anybody?

He looked at Jin. Jin crossed his arms in front of his chest, gesturing to the phone with his eyes. “Pick it up.”

With sweaty hands, Taehyung picked up. “Hey, Joon hyung.”

Silence. He frowned.

“Hello?”

More silence. And then a hushed, indecipherable whisper sounded in the background which was followed by what sounded like a slap. Taehyung’s breath hitched.

“Angel?”

A sharp intake of breath filtered through the speakers to him. But then nothing else.

“Whe—” He cleared his throat when his voice broke. “Where are you? Are you okay?”

“Tae.” Your voice was light, airy, almost like a whisper, but it managed to weigh down on his heart. “I’m okay.”

Of course, you were. You’d chosen to see Namjoon, apparently. Why wouldn’t you be okay?

“I—I’m sorry for leaving like…that. I hope you didn’t take it the wrong way.”

Taehyung was at a loss. “Wrong way? Angel, I…” He exhaled, shutting his eyes. In what way had he taken it? In what way was he supposed to take it? “Why did you leave, baby?”

No response. Taehyung’s heart seemed to keep on sinking.

“When can I see you again? We need to talk about last night. You know that, right?” He licked his lips and looked up at Jin. At the elder’s nod, he continued, “we need to finalize what we discussed. You get me?”

“I’ll see you tonight, Tae.” Your voice sounded tightly wound with emotions.

Taehyung took that as a good sign. “That’s great. I’ll be…I, uh. Just text me when you get to the dorm. Your phone’s on the coffee table. I’m at Jin hyung’s, I’ll come immediately.”

“Okay, I’ll do that. Um. Tae? I love you.”

Taehyung could breathe again. “I love you, too, Angel. I love you so much.”

He’d barely disconnected the call when Jin grabbed him by the shoulders. “Get some food in you and come with me. I went to the shop, but couldn’t really make the right purchase. You’ll have to do that yourself.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened. “But I already told her to come see me! You nodded!”

Jin rolled his eyes, taking a spoonful of noodles and stuffing them into Taehyung’s mouth that was hung open in surprise. “Because we have plenty of time, genius! It’s three in the afternoon. We’d be able to make it back before six, at any cost. Don’t worry about it.”

Taehyung took the bowl of food from him, his appetite announcing itself as soon as a bite of savoury deliciousness touched his tongue. Stuffing his face, he nodded at his phone. “Could you please put that to charge? It’s almost dead.”

And then he smiled to himself. He was gonna make everything right, tonight.

“I’m pretty sure five o’clock doesn’t count as ‘night’ in any culture across the globe.”

You ignored Munchkin’s sarcastic remark as you stepped out of the car, and gave Namjoon a grateful peck on his cheek. “Thank you for bringing me here, Joon.”

“Great. Ignore me and then cry when there’re consequences.”

Waving a butterfly wave at a fuming Munchkin and a chuckling Namjoon, you stepped into Taehyung’s dorm building. You knew you were early, but your nerves didn’t allow you to sit still at Namjoon’s place. You didn’t dare go back to your own dorm, knowing how chaotic Wendy tended to get and not able to muster the energy you usually needed to deal with her.

Taehyung lived in the larger, spacier and definitely pricier North Dorms. They were more like mini-apartments, with individual rooms and a living room area along with a whole kitchen instead of the tiny kitchenette you had with your own South Dorms. Namjoon lived in the East Dorms, similar in design to these, but in a wackier condition and slightly less pricey.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. You would take your phone, text Taehyung to inform him of your arrival, have a glass of water, and patiently wait. Jungkook wasn’t much of a talker, anyway, so you’d have some time to yourself before Taehyung for here, which you planned to utilise by giving yourself mental pep talks. 

You were gonna come clean to your boyfriend and tell him that you remembered none of last night, profusely apologise for panicking and running out on him, and then, if the mood allowed for it, request him to give you a refresher that you’d be sure to memorise properly, this time.

The door was opened. Jungkook immediately jumped, eyes nearly popping out of their sockets when he saw you. “Oh, my God!”

You gave him a tight lipped smile. “Hey, Jungkook. May I come in?”

He gaped at you for a few more seconds before shaking his head as if to break his shock induced trance. “Ye—uh. I mean, yes, you could, but hyung’s not home.”

You nodded. “I know.”

Just as you’d made to move ahead, Jungkook stopped you. His eyebrows were arched. “Unless, you don’t wanna see him and are here to grab your things—in which case, I really won’t let you in.”

You frowned. “What? No, I need to get my phone so that—”

“Absolutely not!” Jungkook blocked the door with an arm. “You’ve got to talk to hyung once before making any rash decisions, and I won’t—”

“Wait, what? Rash decisions?”

“—might be a bit young and inexperienced, but I will not be an accomplice in the ploy to get Tae hyung’s heart broken—”

“Heart broken?” You balked at him while Jungkook kept on spewing stuff that made absolutely no sense to you. “Jungkook?”

“—no clue what actually happened, but because you really should’ve stayed to talk instead of running away from hyung—”

“Jungkook!”

“—not been emotional, but this really kind of hurt me, too, and you have no idea how much hyung was—”

“For fucks sake, Jungkook!” You held the guy with both his shoulders, making him immediately shut up. “Are you even listening to me? Stop speaking!” 

He blinked. “Um—”

“Stop!” You held a finger in front of his face. “Zip it up. Zero noise. Absolute silence.”

At his nod, you retracted your hands and pushed past him to enter the dorm. Collapsing onto the couch, you picked up your phone which was kept on the coffee table—just as Tae had told you it would be—and opened your chat box with him.

Tae❤ hey babe, im here ik im a bit early but dw, take your time i will wait i love u 🥺

SENT at 17:03

“I have come to talk to Tae and apologize, Jungkook,” you finally said, turning to face the guy who was still awkwardly standing at the open door. “Now please shut the door and go back to whatever you were doing. I’m gonna be here, waiting till he comes. I’ve texted him.”

Jungkook closed the door, very slowly, still looking at you warily. “You aren’t going to break up with him?”

“What? Of course not! I love him!”

He visibly relaxed, even letting a hint of a smile swim onto his face. “That’s good to hear. I thought I’d messed up.”

You frowned, scrunching your nose up in confusion. “Wait a second, you had messed up? How?”

Releasing an immensely loud sigh, Jungkook walked up to sit next to you on the couch. “Uh…” He bit his lip, fidgeting with his hands. “Well, you all know how horrible I am with words, right? It’s half the reason why I don’t talk much. I get too upfront, accidentally, and it gets horribly worse if I’ve deduced a situation wrongly and spoken about it.”

You gave a small chuckle. Jungkook was adorable, at times, looking way younger than his age. Not that you knew his exact age. You were certain he called you noona just because Taehyung was his hyung, and not because he knew your exact age. You could turn out to be younger than him, and he’d give you the same amount of respect and formality. “You just did that to me, a few minutes back.”

Jungkook shut his eyes with a wince. “Exactly. I did something similar this morning, and said stuff that I had no way of knowing facts about. And…” he trailed off again, this time squinting at your...well, boobs.

You immediately straightened. “Yah! What are you looking at?”

Jungkook looked up with rounded eyes. “That’s my hoodie.”

You looked down at yourself and physically cringed. You were the worst girlfriend in the world to not be able to tell the difference between your boyfriend's hoodies and his roommate’s. “Oh, God. Oh no, I’m so sorry. This is so embarrassing.”

Jungkook gave a small, awkward nod. “It’s fine, you’re okay.”

You shook your head at yourself. “It’s been a horrible day, Kook.”

“I’m gonna have to agree with that."

You both sat in silence for a while, and you recalled how you’d imagined you’d get peace and quiet because Jungkook didn’t talk much. You mentally snorted. The guy hadn’t exchanged as many words with you in eight months, as he did today. 

Your eyes fell onto the TV in front of you. You squinted at the animated, white-ish balloon-ish things.

"Is that Soul?" you speculated.

Jungkook's cheeks and ears pinked. "Um, yes."

You lifted the remote and wordlessly unpaused the movie.

Settling on the carpet on the ground next to the coffee table, Jungkook munched on some nuts as you both watched. 

The movie was good – really good and engaging, so much so that you didn't check your phone for over an hour. When it pinged with a message, you suddenly recalled that Taehyung hadn't responded to your text. Sitting up, you grabbed the device to check.

18:23 Munchkin😾 (1 new message) 

You sighed in disappointment. 

Scrolling past your best friend's inquisitive message, you got to your chat with Taehyung. You frowned. The message hadn't been delivered, yet.

"Want some?"

You looked up with a start to find Jungkook's hand holding the bowl of nuts to you, his head still facing the TV. You cleared your throat. "Um, no, I'm good."

He retracted his hand without a word. "You okay, noona?"

You bit your lip. "Taehyung hasn't received my text, yet."

This time Jungkook twisted his neck to look up at you. The odd angle made it difficult to discern what expressions he held, but knowing him, it was probably surprise—his resident facial expressions, next to only occasional grimaces.

"He said he was at Jin oppa's and would come here as soon as I texted him, but…"

Jungkook hummed, turning back. "He is there, yes. We went together, but I left early because Yoongi hyung had to go to his studio. And I don't like to hangout with anybody else in that house."

You snorted at that, sobering the next second. You exhaled. "I think I should call him."

Jungkook gave a simple nod. You stood up with your phone to your ear. But then you stopped, mid-step. Taehyung's phone was switched off.

This was very unlike Taehyung. 

You pursed your lips in concern. He'd sounded fine—if not more than a little low—when you talked on the phone. He didn't sound angry, that is to say. Did something happen in the meanwhile? You wondered what it could be, because as far as you knew, you hadn't done anything wrong other than running off to Namjoon for help. But it had been nearly three hours since your talk, so you couldn't really be certain about Taehyung’s mood anymore.

You were at a loss. What the hell were you supposed to do? Just stay here and wait? 

But what if Taehyung was really mad for some reason and didn't come at all, and you had to stay the night? You were certain he wouldn't appreciate you staying in his dorm with his male roommate alone, overnight. Taehyung was far from an insecure or controlling boyfriend, but put in his shoes, even you would be irked if he were staying over at your dorm with just Wendy around.

You groaned at your chain of thoughts. What were you even thinking? This was so stupid. He would be here any minute, and this would all come to an end. You really wanted to slap your drunk self for putting you into this mess. Or, you realised, you could slap Hoseok for throwing the stupid party with memory wiping liquor, in the first place.

You sat back down on the couch with a thump. You were being unreasonably paranoid.

You took a few deep breaths, looking from your phone to the TV screen, and then at the back of Jungkook's head. "Jungkook?"

He hummed in response.

"I need some advice."

Jungkook turned to look at you, eyes wide in evident alarm. "No. Please no. I'm horrifyingly bad at that."

You clicked your tongue. "Tae's phone is switched off. He never turns his phone off, Jungkook."

Jungkook looked taken aback as well. He probably knew the fact. "Maybe it got discharged?"

You sighed. "Jin oppa's house has plenty of chargers and charging points."

Jungkook looked uncomfortable at that, fidgeting with his hands as he trained his gaze at your feet. "Um. I… I am not sure what…" he trailed off, biting down on his lip, looking beyond lost. "I don't even know what happened."

You shut your eyes and massaged your forehead with both hands. "What happened is that I got extremely embarrassed about…well, yesterday. Something—something happened which made me too nervous to face Tae. Coming here after so many hours, I thought I was ready to apologise and talk it through, but the longer it's taking him to get there, the more uncertain I'm getting."

You took a breath after you'd poured it all out. Jungkook was the last person you'd expect to understand your situation and give advice. But he prompted you to tell him – and it flowed out.

You shut your eyes tighter.

"If—if you think you're not ready," Jungkook suddenly began after a heavy silence of a few extended seconds, "you can step back and take a breather. Take some time to yourself, analyse and then build up the courage. In my experience, saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum." 

His words gave you a pause. Namjoon and Munchkin's words came back to you. Taehyung was your boyfriend—you could talk to him, whenever. Why were you making such a big deal out of it? Well maybe because you didn't want the situation to deteriorate further. Jungkook was right. You should rethink your decision of coming clean to Taehyung, lest you create more problems between the two of you by upsetting him.

"Does… does any of that help?" Jungkook hesitantly asked you.

You gave him a big smile "I think it does."

As if on cue, the sound of a key turning in the door reached you. Jungkook's head whipped around to look at it.

You breathed in, preparing yourself.

“Why’s your phone turned off, hyung?” Jungkook accosted him at the door.

You saw your boyfriend over Jungkook’s shoulder. He was frowning, and was seemingly yet to notice you. “My phone?” He brushed a hand over his trousers’ pockets, dark, curly bangs brushing his eyelids as his head bent. You bit your lip. He was irresistibly handsome without even trying. “Oh fuck,” Taehyung enunciated, looking up at Jungkook very slowly. “I left it at Jin hyung’s. Did you say it was off?”

Taehyung stepped into the dorm, wide eyes immediately colliding with yours. “Um. Hey,” you squeaked, standing up.

“H—hi,” Taehyung stumbled on his words, eyes roving first on your face and then the rest of you. He momentarily frowned, probably recognizing Jungkook’s hoodie on you, and then met your eyes with a hesitant expression on his face. “How—how long were you waiting?”

You bit your lip. He seemed to be feeling guilty already. You reckoned it would be better to not add onto it. “Not long,” you simply responded.

Taehyung took baby steps towards you, while Jungkook glided around the place, shutting the door, turning the TV off, and then exited to his own room. You looked down at your feet, only looking back up when Taehyung’s own entered your vision. “Angel,” he whispered, his breath fanning your face. His deep brown eyes looked like pools of dark chocolate. “What happened?”

The simple question made tears prickle the back of your eyes. 

It was always so simple with Taehyung. He was never pretentious, never impatient, never expected the world out of you—and yet you did not share things with him like he deserved. Why did you always have to be so self conscious?

Something must have shown on your face, because the next second had Taehyung frowning and stepping forth to cup your face in both his palms.

“Hey, hey, what is it?” he murmured very softly, swiping his thumbs at your cheeks to wipe off the wetness trickling down your eyes. “Shh, it’s okay, come on,” he soothingly whispered before collecting you in his arms.

You rested your forehead on his collarbones, pulling your lower lip in to grab a hold of your emotions as you wound both your arms around his shoulders. “I love you so much, Tae,” you mumbled into his skin.

He inhaled and then exhaled, almost as if in relief. “I love you too, baby. I love you too,” he whispered into your hair, pressing a soft kiss into the crown of your head.

Pulling away, Taehyung held you by your upper arms and bent to peer into your eyes. His olive green Cuban collar shirt swayed with his movement, giving you a delicious glimpse of his toned chest. Realising how highly inappropriate it was to be thinking lascivious thoughts with tears in your eyes—when your boyfriend was trying to comfort you—you swallowed and focussed back on his eyes. 

“Now, tell me. What happened this morning?” Taehyung questioned you with a boundless softness in his gaze.

You cleared your throat. "Can we – can we move this to your room?"

Taehyung nodded, readily, wrapping his elegant fingers around your elbows to lead the two of you into his room. 

As you settled on the edge of his bed, your eyes caught your top from last night's outfit placed neatly folded at the top of Taehyung's dresser. You pursed your lips.

“So.” Taehyung sat down next to you on the bed, bumping his shoulders into yours.

You licked your lips, gathering courage. “I…this is gonna sound bad, babe, and, um, insulting even, but…” You turned to meet his eyes, desperately searching for any recognition. But you were met with cluelessness, and a subtle hint of apprehension. You sighed. “I — I had too much to drink last night, Tae.”

You felt him stiffen. His eyes gave away nothing. You waited for a couple heartbeats, expecting some indication that he was catching onto what you were trying to imply. Taehyung said nothing, though, and his face remained unmoving.

You looked down at your lap, wringing your fingers together. “I don’t know if I had too much, or if the combination made it so, but… I don’t—” You cleared your throat when your voice broke, chancing a glance at your boyfriend who was still as a statue. “I don’t remember a thing from last night. It’s all…a blur.”

Taehyung seemed to have stopped breathing, too, he’d gone so still. Very anxiously, you lifted your gaze to look at him.

You almost wished you hadn't, though. He looked shattered. Crushing disappointment was all over his face, hitting you like a lead arrow, and he wasn’t even looking at you. 

You felt like running away, your cheeks and ears burning in embarrassment. You tried to put yourself in Taehyung’s spot, employing your trusted tactic to discern how someone else must be feeling, but your head was too fuzzy with the unease you felt. You were mortified.

Taking a staggered breath in, you stood up on shaky legs. “I’m — I’m sorry, Tae,” you uttered, unsure if you were heard. “I really wish—”

“It’s fine, it’s okay. I understand,” Taehyung cut you off, suddenly, obviously trying to save face given the tight smile he had pulled up to flash at you beneath his saddened eyes. “It’s okay.”

You swallowed, shaking your head very slowly. “No,” you said. “It’s not okay, Tae. I — I wanted to make it memorable, too. Cherish the memories for life, however cliché might that sound. But I… I really blanked out, Tae.”

Taehyung’s brows got a slight crease in them by the time you were finished. But his eyes—those damned pools of love that you’d gotten so used to seeing boundless love in—looked strangely defeated. It almost felt like you’d done more than not remember a night of sex. 

But then you reprimanded yourself by underlining how it wasn’t just any night of sex—it had been the first time you and the love of your life became one. Knowing how sentimental Taehyung was, it had to have hurt him tremendously. This time you were very easily able to put yourself in his place and realise that you’d be pretty pissed if he had no recollection of something precious to you. You took a step away, suddenly overwhelmed by immense guilt. 

“Did nothing come back to you?” Taehyung asked, lips pouted and eyes rounded. “After so many hours, too?”

You shook your head, slowly. “I really tried, baby.”

Taehyung looked unconvinced, taking you by surprise. 

He didn’t, by any means, think that you were lying about it, did he? You wouldn’t put it past your boyfriend’s overthinking brain.

“I think I — I need a break,” you blurted out, watching in horror how any remainder of color left Taehyung’s face. Jungkook’s words came back to you: saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum.

“A break?” Taehyung gawked at you.

You quickly shook your head. “A breather. Space. Some — some time to get over my embarrassment.”

Taehyung looked confused, but you couldn’t bear to wait and extend this conversation. Twisting in place, you rushed out of there, on your way to your own dorm, this time. 

Taehyung sipped on Hoseok’s cheap beer, unseeing gaze stuck on the TV as some football match played on the screen. Next to him, Seokjin and Hoseok sat with their own bottles in hand. They were, decidedly, much more aware of the game than he was. 

“Gah! That was a red card, come on!” Hoseok suddenly exclaimed at the referee.

Seokjin snorted. “This referee is blind.”

“Or sold,” Hoseok grumbled.

Taehyung blinked, unable to focus on the game however hard he stared. Shaking his head, he took another gulp of the bitter liquid.

His soul had almost left his body when you'd said you needed a break. You wanting to be away from him after last night would have been his biggest nightmare come true.

But then you asked for space. To get over your embarrassment.

Why were you embarrassed? He couldn't, for the life of him, decipher that one. Did you really regret last night that bad? Had you changed your mind? Or was it something else altogether?

But what the hell could it even be, then?

Hoseok cleared his throat, drawing Taehyung's attention to the redhead. "You could try out a new painting, Tae. It'd be a nice outlet, and, y'know? They say you create your finest art when you got a heavy heart."

"Pretty sure that's not what they say, Hobi," Seokjin deadpanned.

"Something along those lines, hyung, catch my drift." Hoseok scowled at Seokjin. “Art’s supposed to take your mind off stuff, right?”

Taehyung exhaled, proceeding to chug down the rest of the drink in his bottle. "I can't," he murmured. "Angel is…" He stopped, shut his eyes and exhaled. "She's been my biggest muse ever since I met her, hyung. I can't paint when we're fighting."

Seokjin noisily exhaled, puffing his nostrils up. "Then maybe you could—ah, I don't know, invest in a different sort of art?"

Taehyung frowned at the guy in confusion. Hoseok, though, seemed to have gotten onto something. His head of flaming red hair bobbed erratically. "Yes, yes! Great idea, hyung! You should come with me to the rehearsal hall for some time, Tae. It's been ages since you've been there. It'd be a good distraction, take your mind off all this disappointment and hurt."

Taehyung clicked his tongue. "I'm not disappointed. I'm—I'm just… just hurt."

Seokjin sighed. "You mean you aren't even the slightest bit irked that she used the excuse of missing memory to evade your…well. You know." He gesticulated with a hand around the other. "You are, aren't you?"

"Not really." Taehyung frowned and shook his head. "I mean, well. yes. Of course, I would've preferred if she didn't try to evade it and just talked to me. But maybe she really can't recall anything, I'm not entirely sure. I mean, what's the difference, either way? It all boils down to the fact that she has backed off. And that is what's…" He broke off, taking in a shaky inhale. "What's hurting," he finished on an exhale.

They all went silent for a while. Seokjn hummed. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. You love dance and you love Hobi’s routines, so… it could be therapeutic to you. But don’t force yourself, we’ll think of something else.” 

Taehyung exhaled, swiping a hand down his face. He really did love Hobi’s routines and it really had been ages since he’d been to the rehearsal hall. “No. No, I want to. I’ll join you tomorrow, Hobi hyung.” He passed the man a half smile, and got a full back. He huffed out a breath. “You guys wanna crack open something stronger than this?” he asked the two older guys, gesturing to his empty beer bottle.

Seokjin raised his hands in surrender. "I've got work, tomorrow."

But Hobi, the resident booze-man, grinned like a cheshire cat.

Your day had been hell, and your night was going to be, too.

After ignoring your calls for an hour, your best friends had texted you back telling you they were too busy to take your calls. They would have known, of course, what you’d talk about and prioritized their personal businesses above it.

You weren’t bitter about it, or anything…

Okay, you were. You were really really bitter.

Because Munchkin was at a party, trying to rope in some guy she’d had her sights on for a while. Needless to say, she was gonna be busy for the night. And Namjoon was working on some project for extra credits for his class tomorrow.

Your relationship being at the verge of splintering was, apparently, less important than a coveted hookup and extra fucking credits.

Your mother had sent you her customary checking in texts asking about your well being, and you'd made a whole hypothetical situation to ask her if temporary amnesia could be cured with some brain exercise.

Did you drink too much at that party you were going to? Are you okay?

You huffed a breath out, irritated but at the same time feeling really loved at your mother's accurate deduction of the situation. You texted her you were okay, she asked about Taehyung's well being, you said he was okay, too, and at the end she suggested you see a doctor if this felt too uneasy.

You thought about it for a while, but then realised a doctor wouldn't take you seriously. 

yeah right, mom! if docs started treating everyone with temporary amnesia on campus, he'd be dealing with nearly the entire student population

The conversation with your mother certainly failed to help in any way. You had no solution at your hands and your mind wasn't taken off it, too.

You stress-ate a pint of choco-chip icecream for dinner and watched reruns of Victorious on your laptop. You cried when Beck and Jade broke up. And then you slept with your laptop still running the show in the background.

You had a fitful night’s sleep, riddled with horrible nightmares switching between you begging Taehyung to tell you what you’d forgotten but him just crying because he was so hurt that you forgot in the first place, and Taehyung never wanting to talk to you again because he thought you were lying about forgetting your special night.

You finally sat up in your bed at close to six am. Having had enough with the mess in your head, you decided to beg your best friends to help you out, one more time.

Seventeen minutes past six of the morning saw you on a conference call with Namjoon and Munchkin.

“I went to bed at four, bitch, have some mercy—”

“And I didn’t sleep at all, I’ve been working on the project the whole night, and—”

“Guys!” you wailed. “Please help me out here! I am at my wit’s end, I can’t eat, can’t sleep, and I don’t know who else to talk to! I swear if I did, I would not be bothering you two like this!” You exhaled when they’d both quieted down. “Not that you’ve been much help, so far,” you added under your breath.

“I did not sign up for being insulted first thing in the morning!” Munchkin protested. “And Joon, what the hell is up with all your late night working sessions, lately? Don’t you get enough time during the day?”

The comment had you momentarily distracted from your own issue as you furrowed your brows. “Good point. He’s been spending more odd hours than usual at the library, too,” you said, recalling how Jackson had told you about Namjoon’s frequent nightly visits to the library.

“What? I—I do work during the day, guys,” Namjoon jumped to his defense, “but… the work’s a lot, okay? Also, almost the entirety of my Sunday went into comforting Angel. Being an economics major just eats up your time, okay? And—and I really need a couple extra credits—”

“Stop, you’re rambling,” Munchkin interrupted, sounding bored.

“And obviously lying,” you added with a shrug, even though they couldn’t see it.

“What? What? I’m not—”

“Honestly, Joon, nobody has time for your theatrics, okay? If you’re sneaking around with a girl—although I’m willing to bet my nail extensions you’re not—it’s cool. Do whatever,” Munchkin sounded half asleep, but what she said rang true with you, too.

“Absolutely. We won’t pry, and won’t judge.”

“It’s not a girl, guys, come on—”

“Already bet on it.”

“You mean it is something, then?” You squinted.

“Wait, how did this conversation go from Angel’s crisis call to a semi-intervention on me?” Namjoon protested, bringing you back to the ground.

You groaned. “Oh, yes. No, sorry, we don’t have time for diversions, right now. Help me resolve my crisis first.”

Munchkin clicked her tongue. “I still really fail to see what the big deal is? So drinking gave you amnesia like a total weirdo. Yeah, okay, it kinda sucks, but it’s not the end of the world! You two love each other! Move past this! Make new freaking memories, and get over it!”

You bit down on your lip. “I… I would have done that, eventually, but… you guys don’t know what happened last night.”

“Yeah, we do. Sort of. You left thirty seven messages in the groupchat, so we get the gist,” Namjoon reminded you.

“Okay, so you do know. So. Guys, it’s become a big deal because Taehyung has made it into one. His behaviour last night…” and you launched into a retelling of your whole encounter with Taehyung at his dorm.

For the better part of an hour, your dear best friends listened to you go on about how Taehyung seemed heartbroken because of your missing memory, and how you felt he didn’t even fully believe you when you said you didn’t remember anything. You also brought up, time and again, how this one incident was gonna end your relationship. 

“Okay, okay, hold on!” Namjoon finally interrupted your rampage. “This is all rubbish!”

You stuck your bottom lip out, turning to your side in your bed. Wendy had been out the entire night, last night. You wondered what she was up to because she wasn't the type to sleep around or go to parties. Maybe she had a sleepover with some of her girlfriends. You honestly couldn’t strain your mind over this on top of everything else, so you shut your eyes. 

“Firstly, Taehyung isn’t gonna break up with you because he suspects you’re lying about the memory loss. That’s just stupid and unlike him, and I’ve known him longer than you,” Namjoon continued. “Also, I still think the key to this whole issue is communicating. You need to open your mouth and ask the guy what happened last night. Don’t be demotivated by his saddened face, push through.”

“But… you know, Jungkook said to me that sometimes saying the wrong words can be worse than keeping mum. And I literally said the absolutely worst combination of words I could to Tae, last night! Almost made him think I was trying to break up with him. How shitty—”

“I bet he’s not even thinking about it right now. I bet my hair extensions on it,” Munchkin interrupted with a snort. “He’s probably sleeping off another hangover. Boys always end up drowning the conflicts in their lives in alcohol.”

You rolled your eyes. “As opposed to what you do? And stop betting your extensions on things.”

“But, she’s kinda not wrong, Angel,” Namjoon intervened, “you’re definitely overreacting a bit. Jungkook has hardly ever known what he’s talking about, all through his life. You’re letting his words affect you? All you can do, right now, is have a decent conversation with Tae where you hold his hand, look into his eyes and ask him to tell you what exactly happened last night.” He paused. “The night before, now, I guess, ’cause it’s morning…”

You sighed, opening your eyes to blink at Wendy’s empty bed. “I don’t know, guys… He looks so freaking shattered and disappointed every time I try to talk to him, it just feels like a slap to the face.”

“Ugh, stop thinking so much about everything,” Munchkin groaned. “And if talking to him seems like such a humongous challenge, then talk to someone you know he would have confided in.”

You sat up at that, eyes open wide. “Jin! Jin oppa! Tae shares everything with him, and he even went straight to his place after I left his dorm, too! He would know everything.”

“Now, now,” Namjoon began with a nervous lilt, “I don’t think it’s such a great idea to ask around when you could ask—”

“Shut up, Namjoon, it’s a fantastic fucking idea,” Munchkin cut him off.

“Yes. Yes, it’s a fantastic idea!” you exclaimed, checking the time. “It’s past eight, he would’ve left for the restaurant. I can make it after my Scriptwriting class and catch him during his lunch hour! Thank you, guys, thank you, so much!”

“Great to be of service. Now let me go back to sleep, I’m skipping all my classes today,” Munchkin muttered into the phone.

“For the record, I still don’t think it’s such a great idea—”

“Nobody cares, Namjoon, go back to sleep. You have a boring-as-fuck class in less than two hours.” With that, Munchkin disconnected your three-way call.

You tossed your phone to the side and laid back on your bed. This could actually work out. You could ask Jin to fill you in on what’s been going on in Taehyung’s head, and then go talk to your boyfriend with full preparation.

Noon couldn’t come sooner.

Jin’s face was pretty expressionless when he got into his usual lunch booth and met your eyes instead of his girlfriend’s. He didn’t look surprised, at all. He literally didn’t even blink, just gave you a once over and reached for his bag to fetch his lunch out. That should have been your warning sign, but blinded by your own selfish goal, you missed it.

“Oppa, hello,” you respectfully greeted him, wringing your hands in your lap. “I hope you don't mind me dropping by unannounced, but I wasn’t sure you’d be welcoming if I told you beforehand. You know why.” You looked down at the table, at Jin’s lunch of some salad and a smoothie. “I—I think you do, at least.”

You waited for Jin to say something, but he simply kept chewing. His eyes looked at you so blankly, he almost seemed to be looking through you. This was nothing like the Jin you knew. Either he was in a really disturbed state of mind, or he was really mad at you for what happened between you and Taehyung. 

You suspected it was the latter.

“Um,” you couldn’t find the right words to say. “I—I tried talking to Tae about this, but he gets really upset and unbelieving and I… I lose courage.” You swallowed. You were losing courage now, too. “So—so, oppa, did he… Taehyung, he… what did he say about last night?” You bit your tongue. “I mean the night before. Hobi—Hobi oppa’s party’s night.” You focussed your gaze at your sweaty hands resting in your lap. “I drank God knows what combination of alcohol, and…and can’t seem to recall the events that followed us leaving the party. Taehyung is really worked up about it all, so…” You looked up to meet Jin’s flat stare. “Will you tell me what happened that night? What—what Taehyung’s been so worried about?”

Jin sipped at his smoothie, smacked his lips, and had just opened his mouth to say something, when a familiar voice rained down on the two of you from the side. “Well, this is fabulous!” 

You jumped, snapping your head to the side to see Jin’s girlfriend standing close to your booth in her waitress outfit, lunchbox in hand and rage on her face.

“So, now you have engagements during lunch, too. Great. Just great.”

“Unnie, I…” You trailed off as the woman silenced you with a sharp glare. Tossing another one at her boyfriend, she twisted on her heels and left the break room. “I… what did I do wrong? She—she did recognize me, right?” you nervously asked the stoic wall sitting before you.

“Taehyung is upset because you’ve been hiding behind the excuse of this fictitious memory loss—that doesn’t happen in real life, mind you—to get out of the promise you made to him while drunk,” Jin told you in a slightly high pitched, obviously enraged, and nearly unrecognisable voce. 

You gaped at him. “I really do not remember, oppa! Why would I want to forget about my first…” You slowly came to a halt as it hit you. “Wait, what did you say? The promise I made to him? What promise?” you rasped, bewildered.

Jin scowled at you. "What first time were you going to speak of? I don’t know about the intimate details of your relationship, and I don't want to, because that isn’t material here.” You ducked your head as your cheeks pinked. “You two drunkards were getting all emotional about loving each other a lot and wanting to stay together forever, so Tae proposed the idea of sealing it with a ring.”

You gasped. “I—a promise ring?”

“Mm hmm,” Jin hummed with pursed lips. “And then, when you got sober and realised you shouldn't have made that commitment in a haste, you ran out on him, instead of telling him straight up. And since then you’ve been confusing him with mixed clues instead of properly talking to him about what you want.” Jin’s jaw was set. “Why can’t you just have a proper talk, huh? Why do you women have to be so mysterious and expectant about things? Use your freaking words, for one damn time in your life! Men can’t get into your head to guess shit! Say it, and maybe we’ll be able to resolve it! Use words to describe what you actually want, and maybe I'd be able to get it done!”

Jin was breathing hard, his eyes were blown wide and a few veins in his forehead looked close to popping. You swallowed, feeling nervous, confused, dumbstruck and a tad bit scared for your life, at the same time. “Uh… you?”

Jin blinked, and the hazy, mad look lifted from his gaze. His lips parted and he sighed very noisily. “No, not I. It’s just… I started to project my personal issues onto you. Sorry about that, kid.” He forwarded a hand to pat your shoulder in apology. “You got what you came here for, though, right?”

“I… yeah, I guess. Although…” I cannot believe that that is what I forgot. No wonder Taehyung looked so downtrodden.

Gosh, you were a fool!

“Thank you so much, oppa!” you announced to Jin, getting up with a new spring to your steps. “I’ll get going, now.”

You bounded out of the restaurant. You literally could not believe what you’d just learned. Smacking a palm against your face, you shook your head at yourself. 

You concentrated, again, this time to recall conversations from last night instead of actions. And surprisingly enough, some of the fog cleared away as you started recalling things…

…you are beyond toasted in this shimmery polyester top and leather shorts you’d worn as your costume. The minute you step into Taehyung’s room, you are scrambling to get out of them.

Your boyfriend chuckles as he locks the door after himself. “You’re more than welcome to take it off, and more, babe.”

Your mind has gotten kind of hazier than you’re used to. But knowing how Tae always makes fun of you for being a lightweight — which you’re really really not, Tae just holds his liquor better than you do — you avoid bringing up your state of mind. You laugh at his teasing remark.

Within seconds, you have thrown off your top and shorts, and are snuggled between Taehyung’s covers. He himself has stripped down to his boxers. You give a lazy smile as your eyes rove his torso. “What happened to wearing pajamas when we cuddled?” you tease, sleepily.

Taehyung gets in bed next to you, rolling over to pull you to his chest. He smirks down at you, complete with his vampire makeup. “Too balmy tonight. And too tired to find pajamas.”

You giggle, burrowing yourself into the warm, soft skin of his chest. You poke a finger into his pectoral muscle.

“Ow!” he yelps.

“You’re muscly, babe. Those oversized clothes hide you well,” you observe, licking your lips as your hands smooth over his chest and stomach.

“And you’re sexy,” he responds in a rasp, eyes stuck on the cleavage exposed by your bra. “Do you usually sleep with this on?” he asks, snapping the strap against your shoulder.

You wince, shaking your head. “It’s too hot to wear a shirt, so…”

Taehyung pulls you in closer, staring deep into your eyes. “Do you trust me?”

Despite all the ridiculous makeup, your heart skips a beat at his intense stare. You nod.

His hands slide behind you to unhook your bra. You gasp when the clasp is released. “Relax, baby. It’s just me,” Taehyung whispers to you in a soothing voice. “I won’t even look if you ask me to. You know that, right?”

You do. But you also do. Want him to look, and more. As the garment is pulled away from your body, slowly, Taehyung’s eyes remain stuck to yours. Your own water at the love, admiration and respect you feel for him in the moment. Actually, not just in the moment. Always.

A sob escapes your lips. You rush to wrap yourself in his arms, again. “Baby?” he sounds worried. “What—what happened, sweetheart?”

“I just love you a lot, Tae,” you speak into his skin in a nasally, snot-filled voice. “A lot. You’re my most precious gemstone in the whole world. Never leave me, baby. Never ever.”

Taehyung presses a multitude of kisses to the crown of your head, and you feel wetness seep into your shoulder when he nuzzles your nape. “I love you too, my babylove. And I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

“Promise?” you mumble. “This is forever?”

You feel him nod against you. “Forever, baby. I promise.” He pulls away from you, eyes still on your face as he wipes away your tears and the obviously ruined makeup if his own is anything to go by. “Do you want to seal it? With a promise ring?”

You gasp. This is the stuff from teenage romance novels that you’ve always dreamed of. “I… Yes! Yes, Tae, oh my God, yes, yes, please yes!” you happily chant, grabbing both his hands and wringing them around as you roll in the bed.

Taehyung chuckles, calming you down by pulling you in for a kiss. The familiar heavenly feel of his pillowy lips has you quieting down and kissing him back. His palm slowly travels up the curve of your waist to curl around the side of your breast. Your breath hitches.

Taehyung brushes his tongue against your lower lip, and pulls back. “Is this okay?” he asks, giving a slight squeeze.

You almost squeak at the sensation, rapidly nodding your head like a dummy. Smiling, he captures your lips again and massages his palm over the peak of your breast, squeezing when you moan into his mouth. You lose yourself in his taste and touch.

His lips travel lower to your jaw, peppering kisses on their way. You release a sigh of bliss, hands carding through his hair. His teeth scrape over your collarbone, quickly latching onto the skin of your neck. You cannot hold back the whine that leaves you, sensations travelling down to the bottom of your stomach.

“Mine,” he breathes into your skin, sponging kisses over the bite he has just left. “Only mine.”

“Only yours, baby,” you breathe out, rolling on your back as he presses his face against your sternum.

“You’ve made me the happiest man, bub,” he breathes onto your chest, a finger drawing patterns around your navel as he cuddles into you. “I’ll get you that ring and prove myself to be the best boyfriend, in the world. I’ll love you more than you ever thought was possible.”

Tears trickle down your eyes at his words. “And I’m gonna be the best girlfriend in the world to you, baby. You’re my dream come true. My real life prince charming.”

He doesn't say anything for a while, just hugs you tighter. His lips feathers soft kisses to the tops of your breasts, and a hand plays with imaginary patterns on your stomach. And then you feel his head getting heavier. You want to ask him if he’s sleepy, but you cannot even open your eyes with how heavy they’ve gotten. You breathe out as he holds you closer, and slowly drift into sleep...

Your eyes watered as the scenes played out in your head, everything you’d been unable to recall gradually coming back. You realised you’d been going about it the wrong way, trying to recall your passionate moments, when it had all been an extremely emotional affair.

You bit your lip as you called Taheyung’s cellphone. You were gonna beg for his forgiveness and then kiss him silly. You loved this boy so much, oh God.

The phone was picked up after three rings. “Hi, kiddo!”

You blinked at the unexpected voice and greeting, but then recognised it to be Hobi’s. Oh how you wished you could yell at the guy for making your life miserable by mixing drinks at his damn party. You exhaled, though, and tried to clear your head. “Hobi oppa, hey. Where’s Tae?”

“At the Kappa rehearsal hall with me!” Hobi cheerfully told you. “We’re doing a k-pop routine today. You know how he gets with those, right? He’s been practising this one move that he can’t get right for so long, ugh. Do you need a message conveyed?”

You frowned to yourself. It had been a while since Taehyung visited the rehearsal halls. Was he trying to distract himself from the disaster you’d brewed up for him? Very likely. “No, no, I’m gonna…” You stopped yourself. Maybe an element of surprise would work better. “I’ll call later, when he’s done,” you said, instead, already mapping a way down to the university campus and the rehearsal hall as you hailed a cab.

You received Hobi’s text on your way, stating that they were all leaving for the ice cream parlor opposite the building and that you may contact Taehyung now if you wanted to. You were kind of grateful they’d all left the rehearsal hall. You weren’t sure how you’d call Taehyung aside in an echoing hall with mirrors and Hobi’s dance team. And what would you do if he refused you? You weren’t prepared for that kind of humiliation. An ice cream shop, you could do.

On reaching your destination, you exited the cab, determined. You looked up at the striking capital K embossed in gold atop the Kappa rehearsal hall. Then you turned to look across the street and spotted a quaint, cosy looking ice cream parlour painted in beautiful pastels. You crossed the road with hurried steps.

You took a deep breath in. You were gonna apologise your butt off, and then kiss him in the middle of this very place if you had to. God, you felt so guilty! You were gonna make this right.

As you pushed the door open, the entry bell tolled, alerting the girl behind the cash counter of your presence. As she flashed you a bright smile, you realised she looked familiar. She had a really kind face. Maybe you’d seen her around the campus, maybe she was one of Wendy’s friends. 

You stepped in and returned her greeting with a small smile of your own. Then you looked around to spot Taehyung and Hobi’s group. Hobi caught your eye first, standing out with his fiery red hair.

You walked over. “Hey… everyone,” you greeted the table, awaiting Hobi’s reaction and hoping he’d be kinder than Jin. Although half of Jin’s ire seemed to have come from his personal troubles which you really had known nothing about beforehand. You smiled when Hobi’s surprised eyes met yours. “Hi.”

“Oh! Hey, kid!” Hobi greeted you with a huge grin, easing your worries. “You, uh, you came here, whoa!”

You gave a bashful shrug, awkward because you didn’t recognise anyone other than Hobi on the table.

And then you did a double take at the table. You didn’t recognise anyone, indeed! Where was Taehyung?

Hobi noticed your searching eyes. “Oh, Tae went back to the hall, he’d left his phone. He’ll be back in five.”

You exhaled. That wouldn’t do. “I’ll catch him back there, no problem.”

Hobi shrugged his shoulders, without question. “He’d be in hall G.”

Nodding him a quick thanks, you took off, leaving the ice cream shop, and crossed the road back to the rehearsal hall. As you stepped foot onto the linoleum floor of your university's most coveted rehearsal hall, you realized you’d never been here before. Past the revolving gates, you encountered a small reception area where you had to show your college ID to get yourself checked in.

When the man passed your ID back to you over the counter, you made your way down the corridor which was lined by various gates that were numbered alphabetically. These were probably the individual halls. The corridor, you noticed, ran quite long. God, how huge was this place?

On reaching the door marked with a G, you stopped. The door wasn’t fully shut like all the others you’d walked past, right now.

You gave it a slight push, peeking in. Taehyung’s shapely butt greeted you as the guy leant over on the floor, rummaging around for something. Probably his phone. You gaped at the sight for a few extended seconds, before realising how you were being a creep.

You cleared your throat and gave the door a firmer push, opening it wide enough for you to step through. Taehyung’s wide eyes met yours in the mirrored wall he was sat before. You sucked in a sharp breath as his attractiveness smacked you in the face, yet again. Dressed in plain black joggers and a loose fitted t-shirt, he should have had nothing on your white colored high waisted shorts and pale blue button up, and yet he looked like a freaking Greek God, while you...well. You really just looked like a potato trying to play dress-up in front of this guy, swear to God.

He straightened up, running a hand through his dark hair, his eyes following your movements through the mirror as you stepped in. His gaze seemed apprehensive and he really didn’t seem to be in the mood to speak, anytime soon. “Hi,” you whispered through a scratchy throat.

Taehyung’s eyes travelled down your body, making you blush from the inside out as they lingered on your legs. “Hey,” he finally said, audibly exhaling as he sat down, this time, to rummage through some towels and water bottles lying on the floor next to the wall length mirror. “You done with your breather, overnight, then? Can you give me a ring? I can’t find my phone.”

You bit your lip at his caustic tone and taunt. And also at the lack of an address. No babe, no angel? You’d really hurt him. “Uh, yeah, sure,” you quickly said, holding back the flood that was filling up your heart as you fished your phone out from your pocket.

The buzz of a cellphone’s vibration filled up around you. Taehyung bounced back to his feet, attentively kicking off a soaked towel, and there, on the floor, you saw his phone. You disconnected the call as he picked the device up. “Thank you,” he mumbled, breaking your heart with the formality and the repetitive lack of address.

He walked up to you on careful steps, eyes scanning your face as if accessing something. You breathed in. “Tae, can we talk?”

His eyebrows did a thing where one of them rose and the other lowered, very slightly. You nearly creamed your panties. “Depends,” he gruffly said, looking away to inspect his phone. “Are you gonna run off in the middle of it, again?”

You winced, ducking your head in shame. “No. No, absolutely not. Never again, I promise,” you mumbled. You looked up and caught a brief glimpse of his shattered expressions before he pulled on his mask of indifference mingled with slight bother. You felt like shit. “I’m so so so sorry, baby,” you said without any ado. “I acted like a complete idiot and—and really hurt you.”

Taehyug’s whole body seemed to deflate. With his lips pursed and eyes shut, he shook his head. “That you did, babe. That you did.”

You clamped your lower lip between your teeth. “Forgive me? Please?” you breathed out in a really desperate voice, ready to beg on your knees if you had to.

Taehyung opened his eyes with a tired sounding, noisy exhale. “It’s… well, of course, I’ll forgive you, Angel. You’re the love of my life,” he said with a small smile while his eyes still emanated immense sadness. He looked so heartbroken and lost that you just wanted to give him a tight hug. “But, baby. Why? Why did you go through all this trouble of faking memory loss? You ran out on me twice within twelve hours, you know. It hurt like a bitch that you couldn’t just talk to me about wanting to back out. I would’ve understood, baby. You were drunk and emotional, and I—”

You gasped when it hit you. Faking memory loss? Wanting to back out? Oh no. “Tae!” you interrupted him, stepping forth to put both your palms against his chest, resisting the urge to splay them and push them into his toned flesh. “You’ve still got it wrong. I didn’t fake any memory loss, baby. I genuinely did not remember. I promise. I didn’t lie.”

Taehyung frowned, looking confused. “What? But…why did you leave like that in the morning, then?” he asked in a soft voice, looking vulnerable as his hands came up to loop around your wrists.

Your skin as well as your heart warmed at his familiar touch, and this time you did splay your fingers out a bit on his pectorals. “I…” You felt your cheeks and ears heating up when you realized you’d have to actually tell him what you’d assumed you’d forgotten. “Um, Tae, we—uh, we were nearly naked when we woke up, you remember?”

Despite the situation, a corner of his lips ticked up and his hands left your wrists to wrap around your waist. “Uh huh, vividly. What of it?”

You felt the heat climb down your ears, to your neck. You looked down at his beautiful collarbones to avoid the intensity his eyes suddenly shone with. “Well, it — it made me think that maybe, you know… stuff might have happened between us. Um, you know…?”

When you felt his hold slacken, you looked up to find Taehyung gaping at you with his jaw dropped really far down and eyes as round as golf balls. “You thought we had sex?” he squeaked, face contorting in horror. “No…you thought you forgot that we had sex,” he corrected himself, horror growing on his face as you pursed your lips in silent acquiescence.

“I felt horribly embarrassed,” you quietly confessed, making his grip on you tighten again. “Our first sexual encounter was — well, is going to be something I remember and cherish for the rest of my life. I hated myself for blanking out on it.”

“But you could’ve asked me!” he desperately said, shaking his head as if in disbelief.

“Yeah, about that.” You narrowed your eyes at him. “I kinda did, but somebody just gave me suggestive glances and confuddling freaking words that concreted my doubt of us having had sex!”

Taehyung grimaced. “Yeah, I was tryna tease, but it came back to bite me in the butt.”

You rolled your eyes with a small chuckle, sliding your palms past his shoulders to grip his neck.

“As it stands, I’m sorry, too.” He looked at you with parted lips and big, innocent eyes. “I shouldn’t have doubted you like that.”

You looked in his now regretful eyes with love bubbling in your chest. “How could you ever think I would wanna back out, baby?” you whispered, leaning in close enough to taste his favorite strawberry milkshake on his breath. “You really are my most precious gemstone in the whole world, Tae,” you relayed your words from that night, making his eyes widen. “My dream come true. My real life prince charm—”

With a growl Taehyung captured your lips in his. You melted in his embrace, nails digging into the back of his neck as you drank your fill of him. Your lips moved in sync, the most natural rhythm in the world to you. You had missed this, missed him so much, in just a day. You really couldn’t live without this boy. He was your whole world.

His tongue swiped past the seams of your lips to delve deeper, and you allowed him entry with a deep moan, going lax in his arms as he plundered your mouth. You felt him move you around, and then a cold surface was pressing into your back. Taehyung sidled up to you, his planes molding smoothly into your curves. You sighed into his mouth, tasting him to the fullest as you ran your own tongue over the ridge of his upper teeth. His chest vibrated with a groan, making you shiver.

You closed your teeth around his lower lip and sucked, making him gasp and push against you harder. His own teeth scraped against your upper lip. Goosebumps spread all over your body.

His arms left your waist to pull at your own, slowly travelling down your shoulders, to encircle your wrists and pin them next to your head. He pulled away with a heaving chest, and you gasped in a large breath. Your eyes fluttered open.

He looked good enough to eat with his eyes shuttered, dark hair brushing his miles long lashes, and lips cherry red with your kisses. “I love you so so much, my babylove,” he whispered, strawberry scented breath washing over your face.

You inhaled his essence. Your eyes watered at the love reflected in his own. “I love you, too, Tae. I love you forever.”

Pinned between him and, you could now tell, the mirror, your heartbeat quickened when he licked his lips. Without another word, he leant down to sponge open mouthed kisses down your neck.

“Tae,” you breathed out, “we’re in...publi—ah!” you broke on a gasp when he licked a strip up to your jaw.

Your eyelashes fluttered as he came back up to look into your eyes with his own darkened in lust. “You didn’t cover the marks, did you?”

Your breathing almost stopped at his deep octave. Nearly trembling in his grasp, you shook your head. “I w—w—wore a shirt to… hide ’em,” you managed to breath out, going insane under his heated stare.

He let go of your arms to unbutton the collar of your shirt. You looped your fingers through the waistband of his joggers, chewing on your lower lip when he undid another button. And another. And then another. “You look really fucking sexy today, by the way,” he grumbled into your neck, leaning in to lave his tongue over the deep purple marks he’d left there. “Love the shorts.”

You bit back a whimper when his teeth scraped against the flesh just beneath your collarbone. 

“I happen to remember another mark,” he spoke into your skin, nose dragging down your sternum and sinking into your cleavage. One of his fingers came up to drag against the top seam of your bra. In a swift motion, he scooped the cup down to free your right boob. One of his fingers came up to encircle your nipple, making it peak immediately. Humming in satisfaction, he moved the shapely digit up to rub against the mark you remembered he’d left there. “Would you look at that.” His voice was now a growl, hot breath warming the skin of your breast as he spoke. “My baby looks so pretty.”

That was your last warning before Taehyung was engulfing your peak into his mouth. You stopped breathing. Frozen in place, your thighs tingling at the sensation and your core clenching in anticipation, a breathless heave left you when his tongue flicked against the pebbled nipple. You desperately clutched onto him for dear life, one hand grabbing hold of his shirt at the waist and the other coming up to grip a tuft of his hair. “Tae...hyung,” you whined, eyes screwed shut as he sucked hard.

He let go of your boob with a pop, only to tease his mark with kitten licks. You were gonna die. 

One of his hands glided over one of your thighs, hooking under your knee to lift your leg up and slot himself further into you. Your eyes flew open when you felt the stiffness between his legs. He felt hard. And he felt huge. Gulping, you tugged at his hair to pull him away. He separated from you with dazed eyes, blinking rapidly as if to focus on your face as he breathed through his wet, rosy, parted lips.

Sexy fucking beast.

As you looked into his crazed eyes, he pressed harder against you, pushing his length against the crotch of your shorts. You whimpered, your fists tightening on him when the zipper of your shorts bumped into your clit. Taehyung’s eyes lit up with interest. He repeated the motion. You threw your head back, giving up when he picked up pace, rubbing against you with his own breathing laboured.

Sweat beaded your forehead, and his hand came up to support the back of your neck, palm of the other still holding up your leg to provide him with the required leverage. You let out a guttural moan when he leant in to lick at your nipple with the flat of his tongue. “Tae…” you sighed, attempting to collect some semblance of your sanity, but failing.

Taehyung sped up, almost rutting against you, and you rolled your hips against his to match the pace. His mouth latched onto your neck, shooting off sparks down to your core and fueling the fire bubbling in the pit of your stomach. You were about to combust. “My baby,” he grumbled into your ear, scraping his teeth against the flesh behind it. Your entire body shuddered. “Only mine,” he growled again.

You nodded blindly, gasping when he bit down on your flesh. His hand suddenly left your neck to brush down your front, tweaking your nipple, and settled onto the waistband of your shorts. His eyes met yours through the haze of lust you two were choking on, and you gave him a nod of consent. He deftly unbuttoned the garment, hips not ceasing for a moment as his fingers glided down your abdomen. 

The first contact his fingers made with your clit was explosive. Your back arched off the wall, mouth falling open on a silent scream. He nudged against your bundle of nerves twice, before moving down your wetness to sink two of his gorgeously slender fingers into you. You had been flooding your panties since the moment your eyes met. Both his fingers slid right in. His hips stuttered to a halt, lips falling open on a gasp. Your hand left his head to clutch at his shoulder, pulling him in further when he let go of your knee.

“You are soaking, baby,” he breathed, awe and surprise spilling off his throaty timbre. His fingers curved in you, rubbing against that spot inside of you that had taken you months to locate properly. He did it in under five seconds, and now he was playing you like a violin. You were gonna die!!! Your eyes fell shut again. His fingers were merciless, massaging your insides and pushing against your warmth. “Yes, you like that? Do you like that baby, hm?”

You managed a broken nod, gasps layering on one on top of the other. “T—Tae…Tae…”

“Come on, my love. Let go,” he whispered, swiping his tongue over your trembling lips before latching onto them.

A stroke of thumb against your clit, and you fell apart with a vibrating groan into his mouth. The knot tightening in your stomach suddenly expanded into a tsunami of sensations that travelled down to every single nerve ending in your body. Your walls clenched around his fingers as waves over waves of blinding, white pleasure crashed into you. Your legs jittered beneath you, spasming beyond your control.

It took you longer than a few seconds to come back to the land of living. You were not used to this.

You opened your eyes excruciatingly slow, as if waking up from unconsciousness. But when you did, Taehyung had already extracted his hand back from you, righted your bra, buttoned up both of your garments, and was now licking your wetness off his fingers with his eyes shut. The sight made you thump back against the wall, jolting his hand that was holding onto your waist and making him open his eyes in surprise.

You looked at him from under your lashes, your chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. “What…” you panted, “the hell…”

Taehyung had a starved look in his eyes when he met yours that, despite just having had the best orgasm of your entire life, made you wanna throw him on his back and ride him to the high heavens. “I take it you liked that,” he murmured, cradling your waist in his arms.

“Liked it? Are you insane?” you scoffed. “Taehyung, I…” you heaved a breath out, picking up your leaden arms to rest against his shoulders. “I couldn’t breathe. It was unlike anything I’ve ever felt,” you whispered, feeling vulnerable and at the same time protected.

Taehyung, contrary to your expectations, gave you a sincere smile instead of the smirk you’d envisioned. “Makes me the happiest man. I love you so much, you know?”

You giggled, pulling your lips in. “I love you, too, you insanely insanely sexy man,” you teased, making him scrunch up his nose in embarrassment. Something poked your thigh when you shuffled closer to him, and you gasped. “Babe, what about you… your… um.” Your wide eyes pointed down at his nearly fully erect member. 

Taehyung gave a laugh. “Well, we can always go back to the dorms and take care of it together,” he suggested, making your cheeks flame up and your battered pussy reignite in excitement. “I was dry humping you like a thirteen-year-old. Couldn’t let our first sexual encounter be about that.”

“You were lucid enough to think about all that?” you asked him, genuinely curious.

“No, that was a lie.” Taehyung gave you a bashful shake of head. “I was a goner, babe. I just…” His tongue came out to lick at his lower lip. “I just had this sudden urge to feel you. Couldn’t control it.”

You shakily exhaled. “Your fingers are amazing. No, you are amazing,” you mumbled, leaning in to press a kiss against his lips. You suddenly pulled back with your eyes wide. You looked around the hall, frenetically. “Wait, this place doesn’t have cameras, does it?”

Taehyung laughed with his lips pursed. “Of course not, darling. Who do you think I am?”

“A really sexy guy who missed his girlfriend?” you teased again, and this time, he kissed you in retaliation.

Pulling away, he looked at you with stars in his eyes. “Wait,” he mumbled, reaching into his pocket for something.

You had a guess what it could be. 

Pulling out a plastic case that obviously housed a ring, Taehyung sucked in his lower lip as he looked at you. Pinning you against the mirror, he popped the box open between your faces. Your eyes left his to look at the ring — a simple, silver band with a dainty knot embossed on it. Your eyes watered.

“It’s beautiful,” you mumbled through a clogged throat.

“My angel, my other half, the love of my life,” Taehyung whispered, paying no heed to the tear that travelled down his cheek, “do you promise to be mine forever?”

You sobbed. Clamping a hand over your mouth, you nodded, frantically. “Yes. Yes, I promise. I promise to be yours forever.”

He plucked the ring out of the box and slid it on your finger. Sobs wracked the two of you as you hopped into his arms, tucking your legs around his waist when he lifted you off the floor. “I love you so much, oh baby,” he sobbed into your neck.

“I love you, too, my love, I love you, too.”

Fifteen minutes later, after crying for a while, admiring how cute the ring looked on your hand, ensuring that Taehyung wasn’t even the slightest bit hard, and nearly leaving his phone behind again, the two of you exited rehearsal hall with your entwined hands swinging between you. 

“So,” Taehyung suddenly commented, a sly smirk on his face. “Bet you can’t get amnesia about coming for me in Hobi hyung’s rehearsal hall, huh? Even if you tried? Mission accomplished!” 

You gasped, raining down smacks on him right there, on the side of the road. He was gonna tease you about your wrong interpretation of that night, forever, it seemed.

“Hey, I was kidding!” Taehyung exclaimed, sheltering himself with his arms. “Let’s go ask hyung what he mixed with the vodka that gave you amnesia in the first place!” 

You stopped with your attack. That seemed like a great idea. You were dying to ask the man that, yourself. “Let’s.”

As you two walked back to the ice cream shop, your ring glinted, reflecting sunlight. You looked at Taehyung who was grinning to himself. 

You were the happiest, today, that you had ever been in your life.

note: angst by the virtue of miscommunication is my fav sort of angst to write. in the original draft, this story was to end when OC got back to Tae's dorm to sort things out, but then my mind said naAAHHH. mORE ANGST!!! lmao, anyways. thank you for reading! jin's story should be up next, if all goes according to plan. wait around~ 😘💕

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