#hehe little lore for you guys

[scorchedmizar]

The Lord yanks Servant Sun along by a ray, seething. The fire between his joints blaze bright and high in his anger but even the flames that meet his servant's body don’t burn. Not anymore.

How many times have I told you not to interact with other dimensions?! You’ve put yourself in danger, for what!? A little social account?

His lip curls at the sight of His servant’s pathetic tears and He softens His grip. His thumb caresses a clear marking on the sunray.

I painstakingly carved each and every one of these sigils into your body to protect you! And you decide to blatantly mock my work by going out to converse with the enemy.

Sun stiffens at the disappointment in his Lord’s tone and he clasps his hands together, pleading.

That- That wasn’t my intention at all, my lord! I- I…

Oh? So you were going out of your way to risk your life for fun then? I thought you learned your lesson after you nearly lost it, Sun.

The Lord releases His servant with a snarl and runs a hand down His face in frustration, turning His back to him.

Go. I need to clean up your mess.

[butteredfrogs]

Ginger lore dump

They’re a huge fan of ghibli movies, and their favourite is my neighbour totoro! one of their earliest memories as a kid was watching it with their parents, and ever since then it has become one of their comfort films and they watch it whenever they feel homesick. they even have a stuffed totoro plush which they still cuddle every single night named toto. when they were younger they couldn’t say the name totoro they could only say toto hence where the name came from, and whenever they wanted to watch the film they’d ask their parents to “show me toto. where toto?”

also they listen to a lot of the ghibli theme tunes whenever they’re studying as it helps them to concentrate! 95% of the time they have their headphones on they’re listening to one of the ghibli sound tracks.

[ablednt]

I don't understand cave johnson likers the only comedic value his character brings is how awful he is and then it's like anyway here he is committing multiple atrocities lol and the half of you are like omg funny sillay guy

Not saying this in the you're a bad person for experiencing media wrong way but in it genuinely baffles me portal has so many funny silly characters and y'all are like "I like the blatantly evil millionaire CEO who murders innocent people for fun. I think it is very funny when he hates homeless people and uh fires people for being in wheelchairs."

[gyuuberryy]

love potions (but make it legal)!

pairing: tutor!jungwon x reader

summary: you had not been too excited about these tutoring sessions your potions professor had dropped on you. but, after meeting your tutor you couldn’t hope but think you both were brewing more than just potions, perhaps even love?

genre: hogwarts au, jungwon is a loser for the reader, initially slightly one sided pining, fluff, angst

warnings: some hogwarts lore references, mentions of failing a class, jealousy, angst, magic stuff, kissing, suggestive(ish)

note: they don’t actually make love potions in this but i liked the sound of it so i used it in the title hehe. i hope you guys enjoy this fic as you had given so much love to the heeseung one.

word count: 4.3kish

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

to the anon who requested a jungwon hogwarts au im sososoo sorry for publishing this like six months later. i had a terrible writer’s block with this one. i’m terribly sorry, this constantly ran through my mind but i couldn’t bring myself to begin. i hope you like this!

you were so screwed.

you felt like a deflated balloon looking at your mock NEWT results. you were literally failing your potions class. with all the time spent in balancing out your classes, quidditch and sessions at the room of requirement as a part of dumbledore’s army, you had not practised well enough for your classes that were practical based. 

seeing your grades drop from exemplary results to having mediocre grades and failing a class was depressing. so, your potions teacher had made you stay back to have a word with you which is why you stood off to the side. your head hung low in disappointment with yourself. if this continued, it would be hard to apply for an auror’s job, which was your dream. 

you were broken out of your thoughts by the sound of your professor clearing his throat. your head shot up and you looked around to see the room was now empty save for you both. he gestured to the seat next to his table, so you shuffled over.

he looked over the rim of his glasses as he scanned over your report card. you hated the pitiful look that crossed over his face, you were not used to this.

“you are one of my best students, i really wasn’t expecting this from you..”

you grimaced at his words, feeling worse about your situation. great, you were not the only one disappointed by yourself.

your professor must have noticed because his tone immediately became gentle as he gave you a comforting smile. 

“see, the only reason i asked you to stay back was because i know you can do better”, he shuffled through a register seemingly looking for something. “i’m sure you have your reasons as to why your performance went down. i know you can improve again.”

you nodded at his words, already starting to feel better, “yes professor i-”

“which is why i think you should get tutored”, he cut you off.

you froze. tutoring? this was so embarrassing, usually you were the one to provide tutoring to others, and now you have to be the one to receive it? no thank you.

you let out a small chuckle, “i understand professor, but i think i can handle it by myself.”

his brows creased at your words, “i don’t think you have enough time for that, the exams are nearing and you have managed to mess up even the basic things in the exam.”

you sighed at his words, silently accepting your fate because he wasn’t wrong. maybe you should swallow your ego and just get tutored, it was for your own good anyway.

taking a deep breath you put on a fake smile and gritted out, “okay.”

the rush of your mary jane clad feet filled the hallways of hogwarts with clopping sounds. your feet skidded to a stop in front of the library doors and you placed your hand over your chest, trying to catch your breath from the ten minute long run. you were late for your first tutoring session because your evening nap went a little longer than expected. 

brushing out stray hair strands from your face you opened the doors and stepped in, looking around for your tutor. the only person other than you was a boy with raven hair, sitting on a bench completely surrounded by bookshelves. 

you approached him, assuming he was your tutor. 

“uh hey!”, you called out in an unsure manner. “are you my assigned tutor for po-”

“yes”, he cut you off curtly, not even bothering to spare you a glance. “take a seat.”

you frowned in confusion at his cold behaviour and pulled out a chair to sit next to him. he seemed to be shuffling through some papers and organising them. a few seconds went by with him failing to acknowledge your presence. you cleared your throat awkwardly and introduced yourself, trying to get his attention. 

his head immediately shot up as soon as he heard your name, his eyes widening in what you could tell was surprise. confused at his reaction, you just gave him a small smile. he was silent for a while, giving you enough time to take in his features.

bangs fell over the smooth skin of his forehead and he looked at you through glasses which fit perfectly on his face, adding on to his handsome features. you had seen him around a few times as you shared a few classes with him. he was one of the smartest students, loved by all his teachers.

“uh i’m jungwon”, his voice broke through the awkward silence.

you nodded, “hey. i’ve seen you around.”

his lips pulled up into a smile at that as he let out a small laugh nervously. you raised your eyebrows at his sudden shift in demeanour. just a moment ago he didn’t care about your presence and now he was smiling? whatever.

“professor told me you had been facing some problems with potions”, he looked down and tapped his quill on the table. “what can i help you with?”

you explained how you messed up the practical test for your mocks. he listened intently, never breaking eye contact with you which made you a bit nervous. 

you came to an end of your rant but jungwon still maintained eye contact with you, his chin resting on his hand now. 

you cleared your throat, “so..?”

he still seemed to be staring at you, his eyes out of focus as he dreamily smiled at you.

frowning at his odd behaviour, you waved your hand in front of his face which broke him out of his thoughts. his eyes widened momentarily as he shook his head, a small blush spreading across his cheeks.

“are you sick?”

he chuckled nervously, “no no i was just planning out how i could help you”

he picked up a quill and started writing a plan for you in neat handwriting. once he was done, he passed the sheet over to you.

“we’ll follow this for the next two weeks. meet me in the potions class at four tomorrow.”

you gave a once over at what he had written and smiled at him. “will do, thanks jungwon!”

he nodded and started packing up his things. when he was done he looked at you expectantly, “it’s time for dinner, let’s go to the great hall together.”

you smiled and gathered your things as well.

it was the first day of your tutoring and you were early today.

or you thought so.

glancing around the potions classroom, you spotted jungwon already there. he was perched on a stool, arranging vials and flasks on the tables. unlike his usual composed demeanour in class, he seemed flustered, his bangs falling over his forehead as he fumbled with a particularly stubborn stopper.

he looked up as he heard you shuffle in, a relieved smile splitting his face.

"ah, there you are! i was starting to think you'd gotten lost."

"lost?" you repeated, a laugh escaping your lips. "in the potions classroom? hardly."

he chuckled, a nervous undertone to it. "right, of course. so, are you ready to tackle some invisibility potion today?"

you straightened your robes, a determined glint in your eyes. "ready as i'll ever be. though," you added, an unsure lilt in your voice, "considering my track record, maybe 'invisible' isn't the best thing to start off with."

jungwon's hummed, his cheeks flushing. "well, that's why we're practising, isn't it? to avoid another...disappearing act?"

you snorted. "exactly. though, to be fair, the professor did say my failed polyjuice potion was rather impressive in its...uniqueness."

he winced. "right. let's just focus on not achieving sentience with our cauldron this time, alright?"

the rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of chopping netslime and muttering incantations. jungwon was a patient tutor, though his explanations sometimes devolved into nervous rambling when your eyes met. 

by the end of the session, your potion shimmered a faint, almost-invisible blue. not perfect, but a far cry from your previous disasters. jungwon beamed, his earlier awkwardness replaced by genuine pride.

"see? you're a natural! with a little more practice, you'll be brewing like snape in no time."

you laughed. "snape? now that's a terrifying image."

he chuckled, then cleared his throat, his gaze flickering away. "well, i should probably get going. i have herbology first thing tomorrow."

you nodded, gathering your things. "alright, see you then. and jungwon?"

he stopped at the door, his eyes questioning.

"thanks a lot for doing this. i already feel more confident.”

he smiled at that, making you do the same unconsciously.

the next two weeks flew by in a flurry of potion-making and stolen glances in your sessions, and outside of it whenever you both crossed paths. you had made a new friend and you were grateful for his help. you found yourself approaching the cauldron with newfound determination. your brews were improving steadily, and the playful banter during your sessions only added to the enjoyment.

one particularly chilly evening, you hurried down to the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for your secret DA practice sessions. you entered to find the familiar sight of your fellow students practising disarming spells and dodging jinxes. but amidst the chaos, you spotted an unexpected face – jungwon.

he was facing away from you, expertly deflecting a curse with a flick of his wand. you blinked, momentarily speechless. you never knew jungwon was a part of this! a warmth bloomed in your chest, a mixture of surprise and a strange sense of pride.

"nice one, jungwon!" , you called out, a wide grin on your face. jungwon turned, his eyes meeting yours. a flicker of surprise crossed his features before he broke into a wide grin.

"hey there," he said casually, striding over to you. "didn't expect to see you here."

"me neither," you admitted, a smile playing on your lips. "i guess you're not just a potions prodigy, huh?"

he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "turns out i have a few other hidden talents."

the rest of the evening flew by in a whirlwind of practice. seeing jungwon in this new light – confident, skilled, and fighting for a cause you both believed in – made your heart flutter. he was everything you admired and more.

admire? since when did that happen?

shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you got back to practising your charm. although, over the duration of the practise, your mind couldn’t help but wander towards jungwon’s recent behaviour. he had been sweet to you since the beginning, always ready to help out. and the way he blushed around you and quipped with you, you couldn’t help but think that maybe he also felt something? 

as the group started dispersing, you lingered near the room's entrance, feigning the need to adjust your cloak.

"hey," jungwon's voice startled you. he was packing his bag, a casual smile playing on his lips. "didn't head out yet?"

"actually," you began, fiddling with the strap of your bag, "there was something i wanted to ask you about."

his smile widened in invitation. "shoot."

you took a deep breath. "it's about dumbledore's army. we've been working on patronus charms lately, and well, i'm struggling a bit." shame tinged your cheeks. you weren't used to needing help with spells.

jungwon's expression softened with understanding. "a patronus charm, huh? tricky business, that. but hey, i might be able to offer some pointers."

relief washed over you. "really? that would be amazing!"

he gestured towards a secluded corner of the room. "come on, then. let's see what you're working with."

you settled onto the dusty floor, explaining your struggles. you could conjure a faint wisp of silvery light, but it was far from the actual form you needed. jungwon listened intently, occasionally asking clarifying questions.

"okay," he said once you finished, "it seems you've got the basic idea down. the key is focusing on a strong, happy memory. something that evokes a feeling of pure joy and warmth."

he saw your hesitant expression and chuckled. "don't worry, it's not a competition to see who has the most embarrassing childhood memory."

you forced a smile. "no, of course not." but your mind struggled to find that perfect memory.

jungwon seemed to sense your frustration. "close your eyes," he instructed gently. 

"take a deep breath and try to visualise a place that makes you feel truly happy. maybe a familiar place from your childhood, a special time with a friend, anything that brings a smile to your face."

you closed your eyes, following his guidance. images flickered through your mind – family picnics, winning a quidditch match, late-night talks with your best friend. but none of them seemed to spark the necessary warmth.

just as you were about to give up, a memory surfaced. a smile bloomed on your face. you opened your eyes and met jungwon's gaze. "i think i have it," you whispered.

he nodded encouragingly. "focus on that feeling. the warmth, the happiness, let it flow through you and into your wand."

you closed your eyes again, picturing the memory that brought you happiness. it was a little hazy as you tried to focus on the touch and sounds from that memory. with a deep breath, you pointed your wand forward and muttered the incantation.

a wisp of silvery light erupted from your wand, growing and solidifying into a shape. it wasn't perfect – the outline of a cat was more suggestion than a form – but it was a patronus. you had finally done it.

a cheer escaped your lips as you realised you had finally done it. you looked at jungwon, your heart brimming with gratitude. "i did it!"

he beamed, genuine pride radiating from him. "see? you're a natural. you just needed a little nudge in the right direction."

his words held a hint of something more, something that sent a shiver down your spine. you wanted to thank him properly, to express just how much his help meant to you. 

"thank you, jungwon," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. you wished, however, that your patronus could solidify into something more impressive, something that truly reflected the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

as if sensing your unspoken desire, jungwon stepped closer. his movements were subtle, almost hesitant. but before you could question it, he reached behind you, his hand gently wrapping around yours, enclosing both your hands and your wand within his hold.

a jolt of electricity shot through you at his touch. the air in the room crackled with a tension you hadn't noticed before. your focus on the patronus wavered momentarily, replaced by a hyper awareness of jungwon's warm torso pressed against your back, his fingers brushing against yours.

his warm breath fanned over your ear as he whispered even though there was no one around to hear you both, “now completely focus on that memory.”

the room seemed to shrink, the air growing thick with unspoken tension. you focused on the memory, it acting as a soothing anchor in the storm brewing inside you. but this time, something was different. the wispy light from your wand pulsed, growing brighter, solidifying. the faint outline of a cat sharpened, taking on a more defined form.

in the heightened focus, you were oblivious to everything except the memory and the warmth radiating from jungwon's hand on yours. the familiar nostalgia from the memory echoed in your mind, a beacon of happiness. with a burst of energy, a fully formed silver cat patronus materialised, leaping and frolicking around the room.

you gasped in awe, forgetting everything else. "it's perfect! it's actually a perfect patronus!" 

you jumped, unknowingly pushing yourself more into jungwon, making him wrap his hands loosely around you as he chuckled lowly. you spun around to share your joy with him.

but as you turned, your breath hitched. you were impossibly close to him, his hand still wrapped around yours, his face mere inches away. his eyes were dark and intense, a mirror of the emotions swirling within you. the air crackled with unspoken desire.

you leaned in, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. he tilted his head ever so slightly, his lips hovering a whisper away from yours. his breath hitched ever so slightly, as you both leaned in, the space between your lips closing with each passing second.

just as your lips were about to meet, jungwon pulled back abruptly. 

he cleared his throat, his hand falling away from yours. "that's... that's amazing," he stammered, his eyes flickering away from yours. "a perfect patronus. you really are something else."

his words held a strange distance, and a knot of unease tightened in your stomach. the electric tension that had thrummed in the air moments ago had dissipated, replaced by an awkward silence. you weren't sure what had happened, but embarrassment washed over you in suffocating waves. the joy of your achievement felt strangely hollow now.

your patronus immediately vanished into thin air, leaving a trail of sparkles behind.

the tension in the room receded as quickly as it had risen, leaving a bewildered silence in its wake. you blinked, confused and slightly disappointed. why did he stop?

"i, uh," he stammered, looking at his shoes, "i think it's getting late. maybe we should call it a night?"

did he regret the near kiss? or was there something else at play? 

you opened your mouth to ask, but the words wouldn't come. the magic of the patronus lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

"yeah," you finally managed, your voice barely a whisper. "it's getting late."

jungwon offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before gathering his things and hurrying towards the exit. you watched him go, a myriad of emotions swirling within you.

disappointment gnawed at you like a dementor during your potions class the next day. your potions professor, inspecting your bubbling concoction with a delighted smile, declared it "exactly by the book."

he beamed, announcing, "it appears the extra sessions have paid off! perhaps we can consider them concluded, wouldn't you agree?"

a lump formed in your throat. you glanced at jungwon, expecting a playful jab or a celebratory nod. but he simply shrugged, a noncommittal, ‘sounds good to me,’ escaping his lips.

the professor's words should have filled you with relief. you were back on track, independent once more. yet, as the class ended, all you felt was a hollow emptiness. you caught jungwon's eye for a fleeting moment, hoping for a familiar spark or a shared grin. instead, he averted his gaze, muttering a hurried goodbye and hurried out of the classroom.

this became a pattern over the next few days. in the hallways, where you once exchanged playful jibes, jungwon now seemed to melt into the background whenever you approached. shared classes were endured in a tense silence, his friendly demeanour replaced by a distant politeness. 

you replayed the scene in the room of requirement over and over in your head, desperately trying to pinpoint where you'd gone wrong. 

had you misread the tension? had you moved too fast, startled him with your sudden boldness?

one evening, you found yourself lingering outside the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for dumbledore's army. you weren't sure why you were there, perhaps a desperate hope that jungwon would appear. the door creaked open, and your best friend peeked out.

"lost something?" she asked, her brow quirked in concern.

you shook your head, the words refusing to form.

"everything alright?" she pressed gently, her perceptive eyes searching yours.

you sighed, finally blurting out, "it's jungwon. did i…did i do something wrong?"

her knowing smile softened the blow. "ah," she said, pulling you into a hug. "sometimes, the most powerful potions are brewed in silence, simmering with unspoken emotions."

her words offered little comfort, but they planted a seed in your mind. maybe rushing something as delicate as what you felt for jungwon wasn't the way. maybe patience, like the perfect potion, required time and the right balance of ingredients. you resolved to let things cool, to focus on mastering your spells and potions, hoping that maybe, one day, the right opportunity would present itself, and the spark you shared with jungwon wouldn't need words to reignite.

screw whatever you thought before. you couldn't wait for that ‘one day’ to come as you watched your classmate, a girl with hair like spun sunshine, practically cling to jungwon's arm in herbology. they were bent over, giggling like pixies at a particularly stubborn gillyweed.

fury replaced the embers of hope your friend had ignited. who was this girl? had he moved on that quickly? 

jealousy bubbled in your stomach as you stalked away from the window, hurt settling in your chest. but you were determined to make things right, even if it meant making your friendship(?) with him awkward, you needed to know what went wrong. 

the bell signalling the end of class was your cue. you bolted out, weaving through students, your eyes locked on jungwon. he noticed you coming, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but before he could react, you were upon him.

he was walking with the sunshine-haired girl, lost in their own conversation, until a breathless, "jungwon!" ripped him from it. he turned, eyes widening further when he saw your determined, (slightly crazed) expression.

"uh, hi?" he stammered, glancing between you and the girl who stood blinking at you both, confused.

"excuse me," you said politely through gritted teeth to the girl, who, thankfully, scurried off with a mumbled ‘see you later, jungwon.’

now, alone with the reason of your anger and surging jealousy, you grabbed his arm and steered him away from the castle grounds. you marched him past the greenhouses until you reached a secluded clearing near the black lake. there, with a flourish that would have earned you points in charms class, you pinned him against a sturdy oak tree.

he stared at you, bewildered, as your chest heaved. "okay," he started cautiously, "what's going on?"

"what's going on?" you sputtered, finally finding your voice. "what's going on is, i thought we had...something!" you gestured wildly towards the castle, where you could still see a flicker of sunshine hair disappear around a corner.

jungwon blinked, then a slow blush crept up his neck. "we...we do! we had potions tutoring sessions, remember?"

you threw your hands up in exasperation. "ugh, not tutoring! this…this unspoken thing we have!"

his blush deepened, and he mumbled something inaudible under his breath.

"what?" you demanded.

he took a deep breath. "look, about that night in the room of requirement..."

"yes?" you leaned in, heart pounding.

he cleared his throat. "maybe i… i overreacted. i wasn't sure what you were feeling, and…"

he trailed off, his gaze dropping to the ground. you gaped at him, realising the truth. you hadn't scared him off, he'd scared himself off! 

but there was more. a flicker of insecurity crossed his eyes. "and to be honest," he admitted sheepishly, "the real reason i've been avoiding you… well, it's because i was trying to figure out how to tell you something...something big."

you blinked. here you were, fuming about a nonexistent threat, while jungwon had been battling his own insecurities. the situation was hilarious, almost. but mostly, it was endearing.

a slow smile spread across your face. "well, spill it, jungwon. don't leave me in suspense."

he fumbled with his words, cheeks burning a fiery red. "it's about...well, ever since the beginning of this year, i’ve looked at you…in a different light."

your heart thrummed erratically now, hoping he was getting to where you wanted him to.

"...and, well, you're not just funny and smart, you're kind and brave, and the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, it just makes me..." his voice trailed off, his eyes pleading with yours. 

his rambling was adorable, but the knot of frustration in your stomach tightened with every nervous stammer. you couldn't take it anymore.

grabbing him by the collar, you silenced him with a kiss. it started desperate, fueled by the need to know his true feelings, but as his lips met yours, it melted into something sweeter. you poured your unspoken emotions into that kiss, the frustration, the longing, the dawning hope. 

suddenly, jungwon spun you around, switching your positions so that you were pushed against the tree now. your breath hitched in surprise at his sudden show of confidence. he dove back into the kiss, his soft lips moving against yours in fervour. the intensity of your kiss increased along with your pulse and you were pretty sure jungwon could feel it with the way he was pressed up against you

when he finally pulled back, breathless and dizzy, a different kind of silence hung in the air.

jungwon stared at you as your cheeks flushed a brilliant crimson, mirroring the sunset bleeding across the lake. finally, a smile bloomed on his face, genuine and relieved. 

"see," he breathed, voice husky, "that was much easier than all that."

you laughed, a genuine sound that echoed through the clearing. relief washed over you, warm and tingly. "i should be the one saying that" you teased.

“yeah well i chickened out”, he scratched his head in embarrassment, “i wanted my confession to be perfect.”

you smirked, “yeah well what you pulled right now was very romantic. i didn’t know you had that in you.”

he rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “you liked it though. let’s head back now, it’s almost time for dinner.”

you smiled as you walked in step with him, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. he squeezed your hand with a cheeky grin on his face.  you returned the squeeze looking up at him in question, when his next words had a blush blooming on your face.

“i hope you’re going to pay me back for those lessons with more of such kisses.”

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[sukirichi]

[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 019 ]

“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”

cw. angst, running away, illegal activities, theft, suggestive, unedited

notes. one more chapter before the end of dtd!! you guys, thank you so much!! ik the last chapter was kinda controversial but that was the last lore drop hehe, there will be no more backstories mentioned here. everything just goes forward from here on. as always thank you so much for the love in dtd <3

wc. 10.7k

series masterlist 

[ NINETEEN ] I’ll be on a boat, you’re on a plane going somewhere sane… you were the best but you were the worst. as sick as it sounds, I loved you first

The landscape blurred past your window, a seemingly endless stretch of darkness punctuated by the occasional flash of headlights from passing cars. The night was deep, the kind that felt like it would never end. Rintaro was behind the wheel, his eyes fixed on the road ahead as he gripped the steering wheel.

He hadn’t stopped driving since you’d left the city, the tires humming smoothly beneath you as the car cut through the night. Hours had passed – you’d lost count of how many – and it felt like an eternity. His face was set in a rigid expression, his eyes shadowed by exhaustion yet still sharp, still focused. You could see the strain in the tightness of his jaw, the way his knuckles turned white with every frantic turn he made.

You shifted in your seat, stealing glances at him when you thought he wouldn’t notice.

Every so often, his eyes would flicker, a brief blink, signaling that fatigue was setting in, but he pushed on as if stopping would mean surrendering. You fought the urge to reach out, to place a hand on his arm and tell him to pull over and rest, but would he listen?

“Rin,” you tried, keeping your voice small and soft. “We should stop for the night.”

He glanced at you briefly, his lips turning down in a frown. “We can’t. They could be sending more people after us for all we know.”

“I know, but… At least me drive for now. You’ve been driving for hours. You need to rest.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “I’m fine. I can keep going.”

You leaned back against your seat, your fingers clenching the fabric of your dress as you watched the road stretch endlessly before you. The headlights illuminated the asphalt in a narrow beam, the world outside reduced to a tunnel of light and darkness.

Every bump, every curve in the road made your heart hump. The silence that filled the car was uncomfortable. The clock on the dashboard blinked in the dim light, each passing minute a reminder of how long you’d been on the run. You wanted nothing more but a small reprieve, a chance to catch your breath and get some sleep. But you couldn’t – you felt awake now more than ever, pushed with the need to watch over Rintaro, even if there was so little you could do.

The miles slipped by, and Rintaro kept pushing.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You hated seeing him like this, hated the toll it was taking on him. “Rin.” His name sounded like a plea.

Your husband sighed, knowing full well what you wanted him to do. “We don’t have anywhere else to go, Y/N. If I stop now… I don’t know what they’ll do to you.”

“You should be more worried about yourself. You have no idea what the Queen will do to you.”

“She’s not the Queen anymore, she can’t touch me,” he reminded you, “But you’ve deliberately made yourself an enemy of both the Royal Family and the Government. You’re a much bigger target for them than I am. I don’t know what they’ll do to you, but I’m not risking it to find out.”

Finally, you reached out, tugging on his sleeves as you watched the hard lines on his face soften momentarily. “Rin. Just for one night, please? You and I both need to rest.”

It didn’t take much for Rintaro to surrender. Pursing his lips, the car slowed to an eventual stop. “Fine,” he gave in, weary hands falling to his lap. “Where are we anyway?”

You looked around you, swathed in nothing but darkness and eerie silence. “I don’t know, but we should be far enough from the crash for them to locate us.”

You followed your husband as you stepped out of the car, your footsteps echoing eerily in the desolate alley. The air was thick with the scent of mold and decay, and you shivered – not from the cold but from the unsettling quiet that surrounded you both. Ahead of you stood an abandoned building, its windows shattered and walls scarred by years of neglect. The entrance was barely visible from where it stood, obscured by overgrown vines and the remnants of a rustled metal gate that hung precariously from one hinge.

You and Rintaro exchanged a brief glance, the both of you hesitant but knowing you had no other choice left. Motels and drive-in’s were out of the question. One look at your clothes and your faces, and you would be immediately reported to the officials.

With a soft push, Rintaro eased the door open, the creaking of the hinges loud in the oppressive silence. Inside, the air felt stale, heavy with the dust of forgotten years. The remnants of what seemed to be an old office greeted you – desks overturned, chairs broken, and papers scattered across the floor, yellowed with age. The only light that came from the faint glow of the city outside, seeping through the cracked windows.

As you ventured deeper into the building, your footsteps stirred up the dust, sending small clouds swirling around you. Rintaro paused, spotting a storage cabinet that had remained relatively untouched. He tugged it open, and to your surprise, inside were a few unopened water bottles, half-buried beneath old, discolored documents. He quickly grabbed them, handing one to you as you his gaze lingered on you with each long sip. The cool water was a small comfort, soothing your parched throat and calming your nerves, if only slightly.

Rintaro didn’t stop there.

He found a few tattered, discarded rags and used them to wipe down a section of the floor, pushing aside debris and layers of dust until the spot became relatively clean. You watched him work, the focused way in which he moved, touched by the determination to carve out some semblance of safety in a place that felt anything but. When he was done, he motioned for you to sit, and you lowered yourself to the floor, the coldness of the concrete seeping through your clothes.

You sat shoulder to shoulder, the weight of the world pressing down on you as you took in your surroundings.

The building was a far cry from the luxuries you were accustomed to – it was cold, dark, and filled with the fragments of a life long gone. But it was a refuge, however temporary – a place where you could finally catch your breath and gather your thoughts.

For a moment, you let yourself lean into Rintaro, drawing strength from the solidness of his presence beside you, reminding you that he was real, and he was still here. The reality of the situation was starting to sink in – how far you’d fallen, how much you’d both lost. You turned your head slightly, your eyes finding his hazel ones. In the dim light, his features softened, yet you could still see the lines of exhaustion etched on his face, the lingering shadows of fear and regret in his eyes. I’m sorry, they seemed to say, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what he was sorry for.

Whatever choices you made had been your own. He didn’t have anything to apologize about.

He met your gaze, and you simply stared at each other. “Why did you come after me?” he spoke after a while, his voice low and softer than you’d ever heard him speak. “I never told you where I was going.”

You blinked up at him, unsure if you should tell the whole truth. There was a tinge of hope he’d failed in concealing from his eyes. The truth was that you never expected running after him would lead to this – to losing Kiyoomi, to becoming labeled as a fugitive and being forced to be in hiding. A few hours ago, you’d expected to bring Rintaro back to the Palace, and return to Kiyoomi’s arms in Belleview Manor. Had you known it’d lead to you being stuck in this dusty, abandoned place… you shook your head. No. You couldn’t think about that now. You were not going to regret running after Rintaro.

“Because,” you started, licking your lips to give them some moisture, “I was worried for you.”

“Why?”

You stared back at him, your lips settling into a frown. “What do you mean, why? Iris just got deposed, the woman you’ve thought to be your Mother was taken away by the Police, and you lost everything within the span of a few days. Of course I was worried about you.”

Rintaro’s eyes widened, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying. “You’re worried… even though I’m a nobody.”

You bumped your shoulders with his. “I told you to stop saying that already. You aren’t a nobody.”

“I’m not a Prince.”

Leaning your head against the wall, you sighed, reaching over to intertwine your hand with his. Rintaro lets you, allows you to rest your conjoined hands above his knee – your wedding rings glinting under the moonlight. “You don’t have to be one for me to care about you. I told you already, Rintaro. I liked you much better when you weren’t trying so hard to be perfect.”

A small laugh bubbled out of chest. “Do you still like me now? I don’t even know where I’m going to take you.”

“We’ll figure it out together.”

That seemed to be enough to placate him. For the next few minutes, the two of you sat like that, in silence and ruminating over everything. But the silence never lasted, just as the time kept on ticking by. Brushing his thumb over your knuckle, Rintaro sighed. “I broke your phone. We can’t possibly reach out to anyone.”

Your mind raced with possibilities, and your thoughts kept circling back to the one place the Government wouldn’t dare get near – the borders. One of your estates was near there, secluded and far from the prying eyes of the Kingdom. “Wait,” your back straightened, turning to Rintaro with hope glimmering in your eyes. “We have a private estate near the border. We don’t go there often, so there’s less security, but if we could reach it, we might be able to use one of the old smuggling routes my family used back then.”

Rintaro hummed in thought, seriously considering the idea. “About that… I’m not sure we can take the car. You used a private vehicle, but still. They could easily track it now that they’ve seen the plate.”

“Let’s steal one, then.”

“Look at you,” he smirked, making his handsome face look younger. “From Princess to a criminal in less than a day.”

You giggled, your heart racing as the plan formed in your mind. Determined, you quickly scrambled to your feet, and your heels wobbled on the dusty floor. You teetered for a moment, arms flailing around you as you almost lost your balance when Rintaro’s arms were suddenly around you, catching you before you could fall. He pulled you to his chest, the warmth of his body seeping into you. He was close enough that you could feel his heartbeat against your own, the rhythm steady and lulling you into a calmer state.

You stood like that for a few heartbeats, refusing to let the other go.

Faces inches apart, your eyes locked in a silent exchange. The intensity of everything you’d been through the past few hours lingered between you, but in that moment, it all melted away into nothingness. A soft chuckle escaped your lips, and he responded with a quiet laugh of his own, your shared amusement breaking through the tension. You both looked away, embarrassed by the sudden lightness – the moment passed, leaving behind a fleeting sense of normalcy amidst the dangers you faced.

Still holding hands, you ventured out into the dark night, your fingers intertwined as you walked through the desolate streets. The shadows stretched long, the night wrapping around you both like a shroud, but you kept moving, driven by the need to escape. The silence was punctuated only by the sound of your footsteps and the occasional distant noise, making the night feel even more ominous.

After what felt like an eternity of searching, you spotted a car – a plain, nondescript sedan, parked in the shadows at the edge of the street.

It was perfect, blending in with its surroundings and unlikely to draw any attention. Rintaro was the first to move, glancing around to ensure you were alone before gesturing at you to give him your gun. With a swift, decisive motion, he raised his hand to smash the gun against the car’s window.

“Wait! That might sound the alarm.”

Rintaro’s arm hovered over in the air. “But how else can I open it?” he gestured to the lock car, and you shrugged, his eyes flitting to your head. “Do you have pins on your hair?”

“No… Besides, do you even know how to pick a lock?”

“No…”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat. “Fine. Let’s smash it.”

Glancing at you one last time for approval, Rintaro smashed the car’s window. The glass shattered, the sound echoing in the empty street, and you winced.

He reached inside and unlocked the door, opening it for you before climbing in himself. You both knew hotwiring the car was beyond your skills, and for a moment, you doubted the effectiveness of your plan. Should you just abandon the car and find another solution? But then, as if by some miracle, Rintaro found a spare key tucked above the visor.

“Would you look at that,” he chuckled at the key in disbelief, “Seems like luck’s on our side tonight.”

Relief washed over you as he turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared to life. Without a word, you both settled into the car, the tension returning as you prepared to drive into the unknown.

“We do have one problem, though,” you grimaced, and Rintaro raised his brows in question. “Since your window is broken, anyone could easily see you…”

Your husband cursed under his breath.

Rintaro sped through the darkened roads, his eyes not once straying from it. The broken window made it impossible for him to relax, and every time a car passed by, he instinctively ducked lower, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. The cold wind whipped through the cabin, stinging your faces, and you could see the strain in his eyes, the exhaustion from driving for hours without rest evident.

You switched positions periodically, a silent agreement between you.

When it was your turn to drive, Rintaro leant back in his seat, closing his eyes as he tried to snatch a few moments of sleep to himself. But even in slumber, his face remained tight, worry lines etched deeply into his skin. You focused on the road, determined to give him a break – even for a little while.

The night stretched on endlessly.

Finally, as dawn began to break, the faintest light creeping over the horizon, you realized the gas gauge was running dangerously low. You gnawed at your bottom lip, knowing you couldn’t afford to be stranded. You needed to refuel, and soon.

The gas station you pulled into was small and nearly desolate, the kind that might be overlooked by passing travelers. It was still early, the world around you cloaked in the soft, dim light of dawn. The convenience store attached to the station was the only sign of life in the stillness, its neon lights flickering in the pale morning haze.

You angled your body toward Rintaro, his disheveled appearance not nearly enough to disguise the regal air that clung to him. He was a Prince, and no matter how worn down he looked, there was a certain refinement to him that was hard to hide. You reached over and ran your fingers gently through his hair, mussing it up further. He stirred awake, and blinked up at you in confusion, but you offered him a small smile, a way of reassuring him that you had a plan.

You tugged at his shirt, pulling it out from where it was tucked neatly into his pants, and then ran your hands over the fabric, wrinkling it deliberately. Slowly, you raised your hands to unbutton his shirt further, stopping when Rintaro clutched at your wrist. He was now breathing hard, his pupils dilated as he adjusted himself in his pants. “W-Wait,” he panted, his eyes blown wide. “We’re seriously doing this here? I mean, do you need me now?”

His voice was laced with shyness and disbelief. Your brows furrowed in confusion, and when it finally made sense, your mouth fell open, slapping his hands away from your wrist. “What are you thinking about?!” you lightly punched him in the chest, and Rintaro cradled his hand with a pout. “You’re so… dirty! I wasn’t even thinking of that!”

“Well, you can’t blame me!” he snapped back, the tips of his ears red all the way down to his neck. “You woke me up and pulled my shirt out of my pants, and I thought you were taking my shirt off! How was I supposed to think otherwise that you weren’t trying to sleep with me?”

“I was trying to make you look less like a Prince so you could go inside and get us what we need!” you pointed to the convenience store, and his gaze followed. The neon signs of it glared back at him, his lips forming an ‘o’ shape in realization.

“Oh,” he coughed out awkwardly, “Okay. You could’ve just said that. You didn’t need to feel me up.”

“I wasn’t feeling you up,” you glared at him, and he snorted.

“Whatever you say, Princess.”

Rolling your eyes at him, you pushed your husband out of the car, gesturing towards the convenience store as you pointed to the rack of cheap sunglasses displayed near the entrance. It was a small thing, but it might help conceal your identities for the rest of the ride. You needed to blend in, to look like you were just another pair of weary travelers on the road. He walked into the store, his posture slightly slouched, trying to appear as ordinary as possible, while you waited by the car, scanning the horizon anxiously.

The minutes stretched on, your heart thudding in your chest. Every noise, every flicker of movement in the distance set you on edge.

You couldn’t stop thinking about how this mundane act of filling up your tank felt like walking on a tightrope – one wrong step and you could be caught. But you had no choice; you had to keep going, and reach your parents’ estate before it was too late. The sun was beginning to rise, its long shadows stretching across the empty lot like an ominous reminded that you didn’t have much time left.

“I got the burner phone.” You looked up from where you spaced out, Rintaro’s body sliding into the driver’s seat next to you. He’d bought snacks, water bottles, a pair of shades and hats for the both of you. There were some chocolate bars, too, the ones he knew you liked. You raised your brow at him, but took it gratefully, unwrapping it and taking a huge bite as you dialed the number you knew by heart – your Mother’s.

“Wait,” Rintaro’s hand shot out, and you paused, your fingers hovering over the call button. “Won’t they… I mean. I think if you call them, I should head somewhere else.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Won’t they notify the Police that I’m here?”

You watched as he scratched his ear, and you shook your head, gently unwrapping his fingers around your wrist. “And give away my location? As if they’d risk that.”

His face fell. “They won’t risk your safety, but they don’t like me.”

You took one more bite of the chocolate bar, handing it to him as you angled your body towards him. Rintaro was hesitant for a moment before he started eating, his eyes momentarily closing as he savored the sweet chocolate bursting in his mouth. “They care about my safety more than they despise you, Rintaro. Besides, we’re all what the other has now. They’re going to have to deal with it.” He continued eating, glancing back at you and the chocolate bar again, before deciding you should finish it. Reaching over the backseat where he’d kept the water bottles, he handed you one, then nodded at the phone in your hand.

Three rings later, and your Mother picked up. There was a slight shuffling sound from the background, and just like that, the tears you’d been holding back felt like a dam had opened. “Mother?”

“Oh! Oh, my darling, is that you?” she cooed, and you nodded, wiping the tears away from your cheeks when you realized she couldn’t see you. “Oh God, thank the Heavens you’re safe! Where are you? Are you safe? You’re not hurt, are you?”

You sniffled, turning to Rintaro as you blinked back the tears blurring your vision. He squeezed your thigh in reassurance, giving you a small smile before he pulled out of the gas station and headed back out onto the road. “Mother, I’m fine. We were able to run away from the Palace, but we never expected we’d be pushed out so far here,” you said, watching as your surroundings shifted to grassy fields and windmills. You couldn’t name the exact town you were in now, but you should be a two day’s drive away from the City.

“Where are you? Your father and I are heading there right now.”

With one hand, Rintaro shuffled for the glove compartment. He pulled out a map, glanced at it briefly, before pointing to where you were now located. Your eyes widened once you realized how far you’d driven off too. “We’re… near the border. Rintaro and I were planning to head to one of our estates here, use the old smuggling route to leave the country. Oh, and please be careful. I’m certain the government is expecting I’d make contact with you and keep an eye on your movements.”

Your mother stuttered from the other line. “No, dear, wait. Just – leaving the country? What are you talking about?”

You bit at your lip, recalling how heavy the gun felt in your hand before you fired it. “I’m a criminal, Mother. This country is not going to accept me. They’ll put me behind bars, or worse. If they caught us and exiled us, I don’t know where they’re going to throw us away.”

“You are no criminal! I know you’re innocent!”

“Mother… I shot a police car yesterday.”

“Oh, dear,” she gasped out, and you heard her fanning herself before her breathing stabilized. “Okay, okay. We’ll meet up at the estate and then we’ll… we’ll talk when we get there, okay? Hang tight.”

“Thank you.”

“Stay safe. I mean it.” Her voice was hard, stern. You felt like a little girl all over again, getting scolded by your Mother because you weren’t careful enough and scraped your knee. But now you were older, and your wounds ran deeper than just skin-surface cuts.

“You too, Mother,” you mumbled back, heart clenching as you feared this might be the last time you’d hear her voice through the phone. “I love you.”

Rolling the windows down, you threw out the burner phone, watching as it rolled and rolled until the phone cracked into pieces. The call had been quick enough for it to be traced, but you couldn’t risk involving any more of your loved ones in this game of cat and mouse between you and the country.

You reached the estate within hours.

The quiet, secluded grounds stretched before you, and the absence of security and house staff felt almost eerie, like the calm before a storm. The air was heavy with the scent of pine and earth, a scent you’d known almost all your life. You slipped through the gates unnoticed, the estate welcoming you with an almost unnatural stillness. The moment you reached inside, Rintaro dropped onto the couch with a weary sigh, tearing into the snacks he bought from the convenience store. He tossed an arm over his face, blocking out the dim light filtering through the heavy curtains.

You watched him for a moment, your heart tugging at the sight of him – disheveled, exhausted, yet still so undeniably… him. You smiled faintly, a bittersweet affection blooming through your chest before you turned away, leaving him be.

Upstairs, the familiarity of the hallway wrapped around you like your mother’s comforting embrace. This place was used more as a summer vacation home, every corner holding memories, an echo of a life that now felt like a lifetime away. You headed straight for the bathroom, stripping off the layers of dust and grime with the hot water. The steam rose around you, blurring the mirror and softening the harsh lines that settled within your face. For a few precious moments, you let yourself believe that nothing has change – that you’re just the same girl who spent every summer running in these halls, not the fugitive ex-princess fleeing from a life that flipped upside down too fast.

When you stepped out of the shower, you moved through your old room with purpose, gathering clothes and essentials. As you fold the fabric and tuck it into your bag, your movements slowed. You glanced around, taking in every detail – the antique dressed by the window, the framed photographs on the walls, the plush armchair in the corner where you used to curl up on the book. If Rintaro hadn’t bought the beach house, you would’ve loved to build a future here with him and your kids here – if that was even possible in this lifetime.

Everything was as it was, yet it felt like you were seeing it all for the last time. The nostalgia was almost overwhelming, leaving you with a deep, aching sense of loss for the life you were leaving behind.

You found yourself standing by the window, looking out at the sprawling grounds. The morning light filtered through the trees, the butterflies dancing across the greenery. You knew every inch of this estate – the hidden paths, the quiet corners where you escaped to think, the gardens where you spent countless of tea parties with your parents. This place had been a sanctuary, a constant in a world that was forever changing. And now, you were saying goodbye to it, possibly forever.

The door creaked open behind you, and you turned to see Rintaro standing there, framed by the soft glow of the hallway light.

He looked different here, in this place that had always felt safe to you. The sharp edges of his demeanor were softened by his quick nap, his usually confident stance now sagging under the weight of everything you’d both been through. His eyes met yours, and you stood there, gazing at each other across the room.

In his tired expression, you saw a reflection of your own emotions – a mix of relief, weariness, and the burden of the knowledge you were stepping into a future that was uncertain at best. This room, this house, this life – they were all a part of a past that you couldn’t return to. And yet, as you looked at him, you realized that whatever may lie ahead, you would face it. Together. That thought brought some comfort to you, and you knew that this place, this country, as much as you loved it, was no longer where you beloned.

“Hey,” you breathed out, opening your arms wide to beckon him closer. As if pulled by an invisible string, Rintaro crossed the room in a few steps, his heat blanketing you as he stood still. His eyes were droopy and tired, the color more green than it was brown as he stared at your palm. Sighing to himself, he closed his eyes, and let his cheek fall upon the curve of your hand. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t look okay.”

“I’m just exhausted,” he mumbled, burying himself into the comforting warmth your skin offered. You couldn’t help but smile, your thumb brushing across his cheek and the day old stubble that was beginning to show. Rintaro peeked his eyes open, just enough to see the bags prepared on your bed. “You’ve packed up.”

You nodded, and guided him at the edge of your bed to sit down. The mattress dipped down with your weight, with Rintaro practically sinking into it. “It’s not much, but I figured I could take some of my things with me to… wherever we’ll go.”

The dim light from the bedside lamp cast soft shadows across his face, deepening the furrow in his brow and the downward tilt of his lips. He looked almost distant, lost in thoughts that you could only guess at. You could sense the hesitation in him, the sadness rolling off of him in waves. The closer you got to leaving, the more Rintaro’s resolve seemed to waver, as if the finality of your escape pulled him apart from the inside. He wasn’t just thinking about the dangers ahead; he was mourning what you both were going to lose, had already lost – the life you had together, and the love you had for him that he feared would change once you crossed that line with him. The moment was tender, raw, and it made your heart tighten in your chest. You were both so close to the edge, and yet, in that moment of quiet, the two of you felt more fragile than ever.

“It’s not too late, you know,” he began, his eyes empty as he gazed up at you. “You can still stay. You don’t have to leave.”

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “Rin. I’ve already made up my mind. Where you go, I go.”

“But you don’t have to,” he insisted, and your ears pricked at how broken he sounded in that moment – like he was desperate, and down on his knees. “It’s been proven that I really am not the King’s son. Our marriage is no longer valid since it was never a genuine royal union. You’re no longer tied to me, don’t you see? You’re free. You can do as you please,” he extended his arms to gesture around your room, “You have a whole life here. Your family, your friends, Kiyoomi. Your world is beautiful. This isn’t something you just say goodbye to.”

Pursing your lips, you reached for his hand, squeezing it in hopes you could ground him back with you. “If I can do as I please, then I choose to stay with you.”

Rintaro’s jaw clenched. “You’re going to regret it if you do. The life you’ll have with me… it won’t be a good one. You’ll be miserable, Y/N,” he sounded convinced, and he shook his head to himself, the tendrils of his bangs falling to his face. “I take back what I said earlier about Kiyoomi. You were right. He can be trusted. I’m sure if we contact him, he’ll immediately come for you—”

“And then what?” you snapped, “What do you expect to happen when he comes for me, hm? That we’ll get married, when it hasn’t even been a week since his marriage was annulled? Let’s say that happens, did you really think the Kingdom would be accepting of it? They would call me a whore, paint me like I’d only been waiting for the right opportunity so I can make him mine. They would call me heartless for abandoning you the moment I found out you weren’t a Prince.”

Rintaro pulled his hand away from you. “Is that why you’re staying, then? Because you don’t want the people to mock you?”

“I’m staying because I choose you, Rintaro. I’m staying because I don’t have anyone else, and my home was taken away from me. You’re all I have, and I’m not letting you walk away from me,” you declared, your chest heaving up and down from how hard you were breathing. There was that image again – of a handsome Prince with a kind smile, of soft curls you could run your hands into forever. An image that was slowly becoming blurred in your memory. “I lost Kiyoomi from the moment I chose to run after you, Rin. He asked me to stay. He asked me to stay behind because it was dangerous, because there might’ve been a chance that I would never return. He knew that, and maybe I knew that, but don’t you get it? I’m choosing you.”

Rintaro scoffed, standing up to his feet as he raked a  hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to choose me.”

You mimicked his movements, padding your bare feet across the carpeted floor as Rintaro moved to walk out the door. “Why are you pushing me away, Rintaro? I – is everything I’ve done for you never enough?”

He groaned, the sound angry and reverberating across the empty hall. “That’s exactly why I’m telling you to not go with me! Because you’re going to regret it, and you’re going to keep looking back at what you could’ve had. You’re going to think about what you lost because you chose me. I mean, listen to what you’re saying. That’s exactly what you’re doing right now.”

What you were doing right now? You stood there, frozen, as you were faced with Rintaro’s back. “Is this… is this because I kissed Kiyoomi?”

Rintaro turned to face you, his lips pressed into a thin line as he placed his hand on his hip. He covered his lips with his fist, as if biting back the words threatening to leave his mouth. “You love him, Y/N. I’m not going to hold you back.”

A bitter laugh erupted from you. “I can’t love him, Rin. I can’t choose him. I can’t let him be stuck in one marriage to another.”

“And I don’t want you to regret me,” he bit back, pacing back and forth as his hands trembled. “I could never live with myself if you look at me one day and wonder if you made the right decision by not staying behind.”

“That won’t happen.”

“If it does?”

“It won’t.”

“Why won’t it happen?” he demanded, “Is it because you still love me?”

The words caught in your throat as you heard the unmistakable sound of a car pulling up into the driveway. Your heart skipped a beat, and you froze, listening intently. The faint clacking of your mother’s heels echoed against the pavement, followed by your father’s voice, urging her to slow down and that she might trip if she rushed any faster.

Your eyes darted back to your husband, who stood still across from you, his expression vulnerable and raw.

He had just asked you if you still loved him, and the question lingered in the air heavily. The look in his eyes was one of desperate hope, but also fear – fear that her answer, whatever it might be, would shatter him completely.

You couldn’t bring yourself to speak. The sound of your parents approaching drew closer, and you knew you had only moments before they reached the door. You wanted to say something, anything, to ease the tension, to reassure him – but the words never came.

“They’re here. You should shower and get some sleep before we leave.”

Rintaro’s eyes flickered with pain as he realized you wouldn’t answer, and you heard your heart shatter into a million pieces in the silence. The moment passed, slipping away as the door downstairs creaked open, and your mother’s hurried footsteps filled the house.

The chance to say what needed to be said was gone, leaving only the unspoken hanging in the space between you and him.

You descended the staircase, with Rintaro following behind you. The familiar creak of the wooden stairs, once comforting, now seemed like a countdown to an inevitable farewell. When you and Rintaro reached the bottom, the dam had broken. You barely had time to brace yourself before you were engulfed in your mother’s embrace. It was fierce, desperate, as if holding on to each other tighter might somehow stop time, stop you from leaving. Your mother’s body trembled against you, the sobs wracking through her with a force that made your own shake. Your father was just behind her, tears streaking his own face, though he tried to remain composed. He placed a gentle hand on his wife’s back, rubbing in slow circles as if it might calm the storm of her grief.

“Breathe, my love,” he reminded her, while your mother eagerly held on to you like you were her lifeline. “You’re going to pass out if you don’t breathe.”

Your mother sobbed harder. “No. Oh, god, my baby. It’s not too late to change your mind, you know. You can stay and we’ll figure something out. You didn’t do anything wrong, just please, please, don’t leave us.”

Your eyes stung as you held your mother, the sorrow seeping into your bones. “I can’t stay. I would just be putting you both in danger.”

Your mother’s hands gripped the back of your dress, the fabric twisting in her fists. It was as if she was trying to physically anchor you, her daughter, to this place, to this moment, to keep you from slipping away through her grasp. It didn’t matter that you were nearing your thirties now and you’d grown taller than her – you would always be your little girl. And your father, though quieter in his grief, was no less heartbroken. His gaze met yours over your mother’s shoulder, and then unspoken pain that he held in his fatherly smile made it almost impossible to leave.

“You think we care about our safety? You’re our daughter. We go wherever you are,” pulling away from you, your mother wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Your whole life, she’d always been classy and elegant, but right now, she cared less about manners as snot ran down her nose. Broken, that’s what she was.

But you couldn’t stay. Shaking your head, you planted your hands on her shoulder, giving her your brightest smile to reassure her it’d be okay – even if you didn’t quite believe it yourself. “You can’t come with us, Mother. Everything that our families built is here. Inarizaki is your home.”

“Is it a home if a father is without their child?” your father interrupted, donning just a plain shirt and slacks instead of his military uniform. He didn’t come here today as the Kingdom’s General; he was here as your father. “We can leave the country with you too. We’ll start over someplace new – like your mother said, we’ll figure something out. This can’t be how I lose my little girl.”

“Please don’t make it any harder than it has to be,” you begged, cupping your hands around your mouth to stifle the sobs. “You two are innocent. If you go with us… then they will never stop looking. We will live our lives always watching our backs, never knowing peace. You didn’t do anything wrong, Father, so you don’t have to do this.”

“I can’t,” your mother dropped to her knees, clutching your skirt as she began to stutter over her breaths. “I can’t let you go. You’re my only daughter, you can’t leave—” Behind her, Rintaro suddenly moved forward, helping your mother get back up to her knees. He whispered sweet nothing’s in her ear, calling her Ma like he always used to do. To everyone’s surprise, your mother cried harder, wrapping her arms around Rintaro’s larger frame as her tears soaked his shirt. “Please, my son. Don’t take her away from me.”

You glanced over at him, seeing the way his face fell. His presence was heavy in the room, as if unsure whether he truly belonged in this moment of familial sorrow.

“She’s made her mind, my love,” your father wiped his tears, gently prying your mother’s arms off of Rintaro. He pulled a handkerchief out from his pocket and dabbed at your mother’s ears, his touch tender as he helped her breathe. “Come on. We need to get the kids ready before we leave. We have to leave by sundown.”

Your heart swelled. This couldn’t have been easy on either of them, losing their only child as you were chased out of your country. But your father respected your decision, even if it broke your heart. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying now, jumping over to where he was, knowing he’d catch you in his arms even as he held your mother. And he did, the three of you embracing in your final moments, your cries desperate yet final.

“Thank you, Father.”

“If I really can’t stop you—” he kissed the top of your forehead before glancing at Rintaro, “—then your husband needs to promise me that he’s going to take care of you.”

At the mention of his name, Rintaro stiffened. “I promise, Sir.”

“Mark my words, boy. If you ever make my daughter cry again, I will personally drag you back here and let the officials have their way with you.”

“I won’t make her cry. I promise.”

Your father nodded, satisfied with Rintaro’s determination. He looked around, then glanced at his watch with a grim expression. “Let’s go.” Closing your eyes one last time, you buried your face in your mother’s shoulder, wishing for a moment that you could stay, that things could be different. But everyone in the room knew one thing couldn’t be changed – that you were all running out of time.

+

You walked between your parents, their hands clasped around yours like they had done when you were a child. Your father’s grip was firm but slightly trembling, while your mother’s touch was gentle, fingers brushing over your knuckles as if memorizing the feel of them. Every step towards the pier felt like it carried the weight of a finality that was too painful to acknowledge.

Rintaro followed behind, silently carrying the small bags you had prepared for the long journey ahead. You glanced back at him occasionally, watching the way his eyes scanned his surroundings, always alert, always protective. But when your gazes met, they would soften, quietly understanding the heaviness of the grief you carried. He’d taken on the burden of your escape so you could have these final moments with your parents, and you were grateful for his silent support.

As you approached the dock, the boat waited for you, bobbing gently on the dark waters. The sound of the waves lapping against the hull was the only noise in the quiet night, amplifying the heavy silence that hung between you. Your heart ached as you reached the edge of the dock, knowing that this was it – the moment you’d all been dreading.

The inevitable goodbye.

Your mother turned to you first, her eyes shining with unshed tears. She pulled you into a tight embrace, one that felt both desperate and full of love. Her arms wrapped around you, and you felt her heartbeat against your own, the rhythm steady but beating slow like her heart cried, too. It made reminisce of stories she used to tell you when you were little, how she’d place your cheek on her chest as a baby to help you fall asleep. You closed your eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume, wanting to remember this moment, this feeling, for as long as you could. She felt the same way, too, holding on to you for a long time the way a mother wanted to shield her daughter from the daunting future that awaited you on the other side of the water.

When you finally pulled apart, your father was there, pressing a small bag into your hands. It was heavier than you expected.

Inside were the essentials needed for survival: cash, forged documents, and a few belongings that might help you once they were out of the country. He squeezed your hand as he handed it over, the pressure his silent way of saying I love you, take care. You felt a lump rise in your throat, but you swallowed it down, not wanting to break the fragile calm you’d managed to maintain.

As you stood there, the night fully settled in all around you, you looked at your parents, trying to memorize their faces in the dim light. There was a somber understanding hanging in the air, an unspoken agreement that this might be the last time you would see each other for a long time. You could see the pain in their eyes, the fear for your safety, but also the deep, abiding love that had always been there. The universe might’ve been cruel to you, but it gave you the best and most loving parents one could ask for.

“I love you. I love you so much. You’ve been so brave, so great,” your mother hiccupped, and your father rubbed soothing circles at her back. “Promise you’ll write to me every now and then?”

“Yes, Mother.”

“You better write,” your father warned, though his smile was harmless. “Don’t make us come after you.”

“Thank you, Father,” you chuckled, staring at them one last time. You would miss it – your father’s wrinkles, your mother’s smile lines. The sound of their giggles as they danced in the halls every Wednesday night with jazz playing in the background each time they thought you’d went to bed. The smell of homemade pancakes each Saturday when your Mother asked the cooks to rest, and also because she hadn’t used the kitchen since she’d married. You’d missed everything, and it hurt so much to leave them behind. “Take care, okay? I’m going to miss you both.”

Finally, it was time.

Rintaro stepped forward, his hand resting gently on your back as he guided you toward the boat. You turned back one last time, your eyes meeting your parents’ as you stood together on the dock. Your father’s arm was around your mother, holding her close as your mother stifled her cries against his shirt. Tears slipped down your cheeks, but you quickly wiped it away, not wanting them to see you cry. You needed to be strong, for them, for yourself, for Rintaro.

As you stepped onto the boat, your mother’s voice echoed through the darkness, the words soft and filled with love. You couldn’t bring yourself to respond as the lump in your throat grew larger. You simply nodded, your hand gripping the small bag tightly as Rintaro helped you settle on the boat. It rocked gently beneath you as the boat moved, and you watched as your parents’ figures grew smaller and smaller in the distance until they were nothing but a silhouette against the night sky.

You felt the finality of it all crash over you.

You were leaving behind everything you’d ever known, walking into an uncertain future with only Rintaro beside you, and the memories of the life you used to live. You held Rintaro’s hand, your fingers gripping his as the boat sailed father away from the shore, farther away from the life you had once thought was yours to keep.

Kiyoomi’s hands gripped the steering wheel as he drove through the winding roads, his heart racing as a million thoughts raced in his head. He had been driving for hours, retracing every step you might have taken, following the last location you had given him. He could sense from the urgency in your voice that you’d expected him to come find you, and he wasn’t going to let you down now. Besides, it was supposed to be a simple meeting only – you’d promised to come back to him, to finally leave your broken marriage behind and start anew with him. But as he approached the place, a dingy nightclub that he’d never picture you being in, in a secluded area just outside the city, his heart sank.

Rintaro’s car was there, parked on the side of the road, abandoned.

The sight of it sent a jolt of panic through him. He didn’t know what was worse – your car being absent, or Rintaro’s car left behind. He pulled over and got out, the night air chilling his skin as he approached the vehicle. The closer he got, the more he noticed – his belongings were still there, and the car was empty. But there was something else, something that made his chest tighten with fear. There, on the ground, was your phone, broken and crushed like someone had stomped onto it.

His mind raced, thoughts crashing into one another. The last he’d heard of him, he disappeared around the same time as you did. But why was your phone here, and not your car? Were you with him? Had he come for you? Or worse… had he taken you away?

The idea twisted in his gut like a knife, the notion that you might have chosen Rintaro over him despite everything you’d been through. But no, he couldn’t believe it. He refused to believe it. He had been so close – he had finally broken through your walls, you had finally loved him back, and for the first time, he had you in his arms. You wouldn’t betray him. You wouldn’t. You couldn’t be so cruel.

He searched the area frantically, looking for any sign of where you might have gone. Footprints in the dirt, discarded items, anything.

But there was nothing, just the silent trees and the cold wind that seemed to mock his desperation. He called your name, hoping that you’d magically emerge from the shadows and come running into his arms, tell him that this was all a misunderstanding. He imagined you stepping out from behind the building, your face soft with regret as you reassure him you wouldn’t have gone anywhere. He would have the warmth of your body in his arms, the feel of your breath against his neck, and find comfort in your voice as you did with him. But you didn’t appear, and the only answer he received was the echo of his own voice.

You did not appear.

His voice broke as he called your name again, weaker this time, as if he already knew that there would be no response. The emptiness around him seemed to swallow the sound, leaving him alone with the echo of his own voice, a ghostly reminder of how alone he truly was.

The agony of it was unbearable, a raw, searing pain that clawed at his insides. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage, each beat a painful reminder that you weren’t there. His breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as the weight of his own helplessness settled over him. You were gone, and there was nothing he could do to bring you back. The realization hit him like a physical blow, doubling him over as he clutched at his chest, trying to steady himself.

He looked around wildly, his vision blurring as tears threatened to spill over. There had to be something he was missing, something he hadn’t seen. He couldn’t accept that this was it, that you had left him with nothing, not even a trace to follow. But no matter how hard he searched, there was nothing – just the silent trees standing like sentinels around him, witnesses to his despair.

The wind picked up again, rustling the leaves in a way that sounded almost like whispering, as if the forest itself was telling him to give up, to accept that you were gone. But he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. He dropped to his knees, fingers digging into the cold earth as if he could somehow pull you back through sheer force of will. But the ground was cold and unyielding, offering no comfort, no answers. His body shook with the effort of holding back the sobs that threatened to break free, his teeth gritted against the overwhelming grief that surged through him.

He pressed his forehead to the ground, the rough earth scraping against his skin as he tried to catch his breath. You were gone. The truth of it settled over him like a shroud, suffocating him, drowning him in a sea of despair. He wanted to scream, to rage against the cruel twist of fate that had taken her from him, but the sound caught in his throat, strangled by the overwhelming pain.

He had lost you.

And no matter how hard he searched, no matter how many times he called your name, you weren’t coming back.

+

Kiyoomi’s day passed by in a blur, each one more torturous than the last.

He barely slept, his mind replaying the last moments he’d shared with you, trying to find some clue, some indication that this wasn’t the end. He couldn’t eat, couldn’t focus on anything other than the gnawing fear that something terrible had happened to you. Or worse, that you really had chosen to leave him behind without a word. He’d gotten so desperate that he’d asked for the help of his brothers – Kita was to investigate on your last sightings, Tobio was to remain alert on any news regarding you and Rintaro, and Keiji had reached out to his civilian friends to report to him in case you’d decided to blend in with the common folk.

No news for the next few days, other than the national announcement that you and Rintaro were now officially missing persons. Kiyoomi quickly shut off the television after that, heading straight for his study where he spent countless nights hugging the sweater you’d left behind. Your scent was already fading, but he refused to wash it, afraid he’d completely lose the last thing he had to remind him of you.

The room was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn to block out the morning light. Papers and maps were strewn across the desk, a clear sign of his restless night. He paced the length of the room, eyes flicking toward the door every few seconds as if expecting you to miraculously walk through it. His hand clenched around his phone, staring at the screen as if willing it to show a missed call or message from you, anything to break the suffocating silence that had consumed him since you disappeared.

The door creaked open, and Kita stepped inside, his expression grave. The prince barely looked up, his focus still on the phone. Kita took a deep breath, knowing the conversation ahead would be anything but easy. “We’ve found something,” he began, his voice measured and cautious.

Kiyoomi’s head snapped up, eyes locking onto Kita’s. “What did you find?” His voice was sharp, hopeful yet angry.

Kita hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Her phone wasn’t completely broken – but it’s been off since the night she disappeared. No pings, no signals. It’s as if she doesn’t want to be found. It’s also odd that her parents stopped calling her a day after the Police tried running after them.”

The prince shook his head, denial washing over him. “That doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to be found.”

Kita nodded slowly, understanding the prince’s reluctance to accept the truth. “I considered that too, but then I found something else.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small evidence bag, inside which was a photograph of faint tire tracks leading away from the area where Rintaro’s car was found. “These tracks... they suggest a hurried departure. She left quickly. They left quickly, Kiyoomi. Some of the surviving cops stated that Rintaro was driving, and she was the one who shot at them.”

The prince’s jaw tightened, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of his desk. “It doesn’t prove anything. Maybe she was forced to leave, maybe...” His voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Kita stepped closer, lowering his voice. “There’s more. I got a message from a contact in the royal circle. There was unusual activity at her family’s estate the night she disappeared. Some neighbors reported that cars were coming in despite the place being remote for years, and...” He hesitated before continuing, knowing the next words would be the hardest to hear. “A boat was seen leaving the estate after sundown. No one questioned it because apparently, the General liked to fish whenever he was stressed out, but the General never boarded the boat.”

Kiyoomi’s face twisted with a mix of anger and pain. “What are you saying, Kita? That she’s left me? That she’s gone without a word, just... vanished? She’s not that kind of person and you know it, too.”

Kita’s eyes softened with sympathy, but he held firm. “I don’t want to believe it either, but everything points to her leaving the country. The tracks, the boat, the silence... It all fits.”

Kiyoomi’s breathing grew heavier, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to shout, to curse, to deny everything Kita was saying, but deep down, he knew it was the truth. The signs were there; he just didn’t want to see them.

He slammed his fist down on the desk, sending papers flying. “No! She wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t just leave me without a word!”

Kita remained silent, allowing his brother’s anger to fill the room. He knew this wasn’t just about you leaving; it was about the betrayal, the fear that you had chosen someone else over him, that you had left him in the dark. The prince’s eyes burned with tears he refused to shed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “She loved me, Kita. She said she loved me. Why would she leave if she loved me? She… she said she didn’t care about him anymore.”

Kita took a cautious step forward. “Maybe she didn’t want to drag you into this, Kiyoomi. Maybe she thought she was protecting you.”

Kiyoomi shook his head violently, refusing to accept it. “No. She should have told me, she should have trusted me! She called out to me for help, Kita. She called me, gave me her location before I was met with radio silence. That means she wanted to be found, right? There’s no way she’d tell me where she was if she was going to run away.”

Kita sighed, his own heart heavy with the weight of the truth. “Sometimes, the people we love do things we can’t understand. But that doesn’t mean she didn’t care. It doesn’t mean she didn’t love you.”

The prince’s shoulders slumped, the weight of reality finally crashing down on him. He turned away from Kita, his gaze falling on the empty chair she used to sit in, the memories of their time together flooding his mind. The silence in the room was deafening, the truth too bitter to swallow.

Kita watched him, feeling his brother’s pain as if it were his own. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, knowing that no words could ease the prince’s agony.

Kiyoomi didn’t respond. All he knew in that moment was that you were gone, and you hadn’t even said goodbye. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut, leaving him reeling, unable to navigate his way in this sea of confusion and heartbreak. All he could do was stand there, staring at the place where you should have been.

His mind refused to accept it. His body, in defiance of reality, filled in the empty spaces with memories – illusions that brought no comfort, only pain. He swore he could still feel your touch, the delicate brush of your fingertips lingering on his face, ghostly and cold. The sensation was so vivid it sent a shiver down his spine, and his hand shot up to his cheek, desperate to hold onto the fleeting warmth that wasn’t really there.

The study was quiet, but to him, it was filled with echoes of you.

He heard your laughter, soft and melodious, reverberating through the empty room. It was the same laugh that used to light up his world, that made everything seem less daunting, less lonely. Now, it only amplified the emptiness, a cruel reminder of what he had lost. He turned his head, hoping against hope to see you standing there, your eyes sparkling with mischief, but the room was empty. The illusion shattered, leaving him hollower than before.

His knees felt weak, and he stumbled to the chair you used to sit in, clutching the armrest as if it could somehow bring you back. He could still hear your voice, teasing him gently, calling him by that name only you used, Omi, the one that made him feel human instead of royal. The sound of your voice was so real it hurt, like a knife twisting in his chest, and he pressed his hands to his ears, trying to block it out, but it was no use.

You were everywhere and nowhere all at once.

How could you leave me?

The thought crashed through his mind, a desperate plea that made his heart ache. He had been so sure, so convinced that what you had was real, that your love was strong enough to withstand anything. You had finally opened up to him, finally let him into your heart, and now... you were gone.

Was it all a lie?

The question tortured him, gnawed at his sanity. Had you ever really loved him, or was he just another pawn in whatever game you were playing?

But no... He shook his head, trying to silence the doubt, to cling to the truth he believed in. He knew you loved him. He had seen it in your eyes, felt it in your touch, tasted it in your kisses. You had given him everything, and he had given you his heart in return. You wouldn’t betray that. You couldn’t. Yet, here he was, alone, with nothing but memories and ghosts for company. He wanted to scream, to tear the room apart, to do anything to drown out the agony that was swallowing him whole. But he couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. All he could do was sit there, his body shaking, tears burning in his eyes as the full weight of your absence crushed him.

You promised me.

The words echoed in his mind, bitter and broken. You promised you wouldn’t leave him, that you would stay by his side. But now you were gone, and he didn’t even know why. The betrayal cut deep, deeper than any wound he had ever known. It wasn’t just that you had left – it was that you had left him without a word, without a trace, without a goodbye. Was he not worth even a proper farewell?

Why didn’t you say goodbye?

The question was a knife in his heart, twisting deeper with every beat. He had always imagined that if you ever had to leave, it would be with a tearful farewell, a last kiss, a promise to return. But this... this was nothing. Just emptiness, a void where you should have been, where you had always been.

The pain was unbearable, a crushing weight on his chest that made it hard to breathe, hard to think. He could feel himself unraveling, the carefully constructed walls he had built around his heart crumbling into dust. You were gone, and with you, you had taken everything that mattered, leaving him hollow, broken, and utterly alone.

Please, come back.

The thought was a whisper, a prayer to a god who wasn’t listening. He wanted to believe that you would come back, that this was all a mistake, a nightmare he would wake up from. But deep down, he knew the truth. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back.

Kiyoomi’s breath hitched, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the reality of it, but it was no use. The truth was inescapable, crushing him from all sides. You were gone, and he didn’t know if he would ever be whole again. All he had left was the echo of your voice, the ghost of your touch, and the unbearable weight of your absence.

[alphabetboyluvr]

HUSH | MYG - TWO

pairing: rockstar!yoongi x female reader | mutual disdain - lovers (but also strangers - lovers? kinda?)

premise: in which you work for your brothers band by day and accidentally anonymously sext his bandmate on the regular by night! whoops !!

wc: 10k

for more details, pls see the master list (x)

note from holly: if you've read hush over on wattpad, then you've already seen this! sorry!! but this is everything that was on wattpad--the next upload will be 100% fresh hehe

warnings: alcohol, foul language, creepy men in bars, sexting (minimal!! very brief!), yoongi is both an asshole and a good guy, oc and yoongi are dumb!! and argumentative!! we learn a teeny tiny bit more lore for the night that never was!!

the app (x) | the band (x) | part one (x)

minors dni!!!

GOLDEN CLOSET STUDIO Big Hit Ent, Yongsan-gu

"Back again so soon?" Jungkook grins when you traipse into his studio the next morning. 

Slumping down onto the sofa with a groan, you get comfortable like it's a second home to you. Only just gone midday, you're exhausted. You'll tell anyone who asks that you went out for a morning run, but you'll be lying through your teeth.

See, what made you tired may have given flushed cheeks, but sadly no cardio was involved. Just some pixels. Words. Another goddamn video call of a bedroom you know so damn well but have never stepped foot within. From his belly button down, you'd recognise your Damocles boys in a heartbeat. Wonder if you'd be able to tell if you saw him in the wild, fully clothed. 

You doubt it.

No, what's made you so tired isn't the things that get you up in the morning, but rather the things that keep you up all night.

Or just 'thing'.

A singular.

You're not sure you want to classify him as a person, because currently he's just pixels on a screen - but the images those pixels so often make? The dirty words that form in negative spaces just for you to see?

Yeah. You think that he's too good to be true. Can't be a real man.

"Meeting," you mumble into the cushion of the chair. "You know how many logistics are involved in taking you guys on tour? It's mad."

"Logistics?" He snorts, knowing your job has nothing to do with that side of the business.

"I'm shadowing," you reply. "Jinyu sweet-talked someone she knows in that department. Following one of the planners around for the week."

"Really tryna work your way up, huh?" Jungkook asks, before quietly musing, "Hope Jinyu'll sweet-talk me some time."

He's not wrong. About working your way up, that is. Jinyu will never sweet-talk him.

Big Hit is a great stepping stone - an industry outlier, built from the ground up - but you don't want to be in your brother's shadow for too long. 

You fear it'll look like you're complacent; as if you want an easy life that you don't have to work hard for. Get some experience, get a good reference, and get out; that's the plan. Maybe work somewhere overseas, away from the confines of your family name.

You don't entertain Jungkook's musings, instead opting to shuffle a little further into his sofa. It's leather and still smells brand new - not because it is, but because Jungkook is meticulous in his cleaning regimes. Will probably wipe it down after you leave. Is perhaps the neatest rockstar you've ever known - not that you know all that many. 

And that's exactly your issue; even if you want to get out of Seokjin's shadow, you've no idea where to turn to. Bright light saturates everything else. Here, you're hidden. Safe. Comfortable.

Well, comfortable except for one particular thorn in your side.

"Get your song sorted with Yoongi last night?" You ask, genuinely curious about it. You're also incredibly nosey, and Yoongi is a dick. What you'd like to hear is that he's annoyed and frustrated, because that's how he makes you feel. 

It's selfish to think that way. The album cycle is well and truly underway, and the boys are cramming every spare moment into perfecting it. You aren't too aware of the process, you just know that Yoongi speaks to you even less now that the stress is mounting.

They're made for the stage. Would spend all day every day performing, if it was sustainable. Don't enjoy the downtime - but you think it's because the slowness of it all interferes with their live fast, die young bullshit.

Jungkook shakes his head. "It's missing something. Can't figure out what. We're gonna leave it until after the Europe dates. Hopefully will have found some inspiration over there."

You accept his answer without a response. Know that any advice you could give would be redundant. You don't know the first thing about music production, and think it would be a waste of energy to float ideas for a song you've not even heard.

"Think Yoongi needs to rest," Jungkook muses a little mindlessly. "Was here till stupid o'clock last night."

You mumble a response, and Jungkook takes it as an indication to continue.

"Last email he sent was at like, what? Three in the morning? How his brain could've still been working, I've no idea."

"He's a night owl," you hum, as if it's a new discovery. "Works better that way. It's like you work best after a good sleep. He works best a little sleep-deprived."

"Yeah but how?!"

"I dunno. Brain science. Ask Yoongi. He probably knows. Psychology n shit."

Jungkook just rolls his eyes. He won't be asking Yoongi.

Just like he also won't be asking Yoongi if he wants to join you all for drinks later that evening. 

That job? Yeah, that's up to you.

Neither you, Jimin, nor Jungkook wanna ask Yoongi, mainly because you all know he'll just say 'no.' What's the point?

A fierce battle of rock-paper-scissors had been fought earlier that evening, and you'd been the poor sod declared as the loser.

Already half a bottle down, they're drinking in Jungkook's studio (even if Hoseok strictly forbode it the last time they got legless at work (as if his orders have ever stopped them from doing anything they wanted)) when you finally meet them again. 

They're getting a headstart on the evening's festivities.

It's nothing special. Just a chance for them all to hang out properly after the Seoul shows.

They rarely ever 'hang out', 'cause work often feels like that anyway. It's only when they take a break that they realise how much they enjoy each other's company. A few days rest from one another is always welcome - but exceed three days, and they start to get withdrawal symptoms.

"Ready to go?" You ask, but are met with curt shakes of their heads.

Jimin passes you the bottle of beer he's been nursing on. As you take a swig, he reminds you, "You've not asked Yoongi yet."

Lips pressed to the rim of the bottle, you roll your eyes. Have half a mind to backwash in retaliation, but you don't fancy bickering this early on in the night.

Shaking your head, you swallow down the froth. "He'll say no."

"Buuuuut," Jungkook sings, as if he thinks he can serenade you into asking Yoongi. "What if he says yes?"

"Well, one of you can ask!" You whine. Yoongi's studio is the last place you want to go to - especially after the messages he sent you last night, warning you about your relationship with Jungkook. "Give him your doe eyes, Kook. It'll work."

A game of rock, paper, scissors is legally binding, though. Jungkook tells you so. Says if you don't go and ask Yoongi, he'll be forced to take you to court.

"I've got Big Hit lawyers," he reminds you.

"Is this a threat?!"

"Yep. Now go ask Yoongi!"

You argue a little longer. Jimin takes two shots during that time. Jungkook interpretive dances whenever you make a compelling statement as to why you shouldn't be the one asking. You frown whenever he does the robot.

And so, mainly to get away from any more of Jungkook's bizarre hip-gyrations, you traipse down to the end of the corridor, where Yoongi's so-called Genius Lab resides.

The wait at his door is awkward. You question yourself, what you'll say, how you should stand. First impressions are everything, and if he's greeted with shitty energy, he'll give it back in return. You know him well enough to know this for a fact.

After a lifetime of waiting (27 seconds, to be exact), there's a mechanical whir of the lock coming undone.

"Hey," you offer a smile as you're greeted with his typical face of thunder. "Been sent to retrieve you. We're going out tonight. All of us."

He knows the plans. Is in the group chat. Ignored the messages for a reason.

His stare is a little frosty but not unkind. Just uninterested. "Can't."

"Can't or won't?"

"Both?"

You might be deluding yourself, but you think he smiles slightly when he says that.

"Ah, but you can and you will go to the ball, Cinders," you joke, giving him a small curtsy. "All work no play makes Yoongi a dull boy."

You're joking, but you believe it. He's been miserable the last few months. Keeps himself hauled up in his studio when they're not on the road, and avoids social interaction like the plague. It maddens you. How is he gonna write songs about life and the importance of living one, if he won't let himself do the same?

He's hard to read as he sighs, and pinches the bridge of his nose. Shakes his head, then opens his door a little wider. Encourages you into his space.

A candle burns on his desk, faintly vanilla in its scent, making it feel far cosier than actually is. The room is sullen; dark greys and little else. In fact, it surprises you he's gone for such a pretty cream candle. LED lights that are hidden in the walls glow a deep blue, and it's no wonder he's so miserable. There's no passion in his little pit. No life. Just him, some screens, and the whir of computer fans.

"Will you give something a listen?" He asks, quite clearly seeing you as a last resort - but when you hit rock bottom, the only direction you can go in is up. He knows you're not musical, not like Jin, but perhaps he needs the ear of a consumer, not a creator. "Been wracking my brain trying to think of what this needs. Have listened to it so many times that nothing sounds right anymore. I just- Could you?" He pauses. Looks quite uncomfortable when he adds, "Please?"

You assume the file up on the central screen is the song he's been working on with Jungkook, so you oblige. Kick your shoes off and leave them by the mat. It's been a while since you've been given the luxury of access to the Genius Lab. You used to know the code.

Things with Yoongi used to be different, though.

Not much has changed within his four dark walls since then. He's gained a new painted canvas in the corner of the room, stacked behind the existing ones. It's deep navy blue. Sort of like him, you think. The blue continues. Illuminates his work area. No wonder he never sleeps. The mood lighting is cold. Alert. Is bound to fuck with his brain.

There are more speakers than you can fathom, and switchboards you can't even begin to understand. The programs that Yoongi's running on his computers are familiar, though. You've seen them enough times to get a rough idea of the composition. Can see tabs labelled for Jin's vocals.

Yoongi turns his chair as the door clicks shut, automatic lock whirring into place. There was a time when that sound would have excited you. Not for any lewd, scandalous reason - just for the fact there used to be a time, many moons ago, when you thought Min Yoongi was the hottest man to have ever graced the earth.

And can you blame yourself?

His midnight hair gracefully frames his face, perfectly waved, dark eyes stark against his pale complexion. His skin is dewy, cheeks a little puffy from his lack of sleep and the fact all he has in his system is an iced americano and blue Powerade - yet still, his features are sharp. A white shirt hangs off his broad shoulders, dainty bracelets sitting on his pretty wrists.

Every bit the heartthrob, he's only gotten better with age - but you've grown up, too. Are wiser now. Understand that devastatingly handsome men will always inevitably devastate you, too.

It's for that reason Min Yoongi doesn't bother you in the same ways that he used to. That, and the night that never was.

As you said, devastatingly handsome men will only ever devastate you, too. He's proven that point already.

He points to his chair. "Sit."

The way he's so demanding with his tone annoys you. You shake your head. Choose to stand. "It's cool. Just play the song."

You don't mean to be so sharp. So curt. You're just thinking about how unbearable he's been recently - especially last night. He'd left you on read. Obviously wasn't happy with your response, not that you care.

"Please don't be difficult," he says softly. "Just sit so you can listen properly."

Why your stature could possibly impact your ears and their ability to listen, you'll never know - but you don't argue. As much as Yoongi's contempt for you these days annoys you, you don't want to make it any worse than it already is.

The leather of his chair is warm from his perch. Kind of nice how despite his cool demeanour, he's always a little toasty. He brings the heat of Daegu with him wherever he goes.

"I'm all ears," you tell him, and watch as he presses down on the play button.

"It's not the full song," he says over the melody of an upbeat track. "You'll know the bit I mean though. It's like, not bad, but-"

"Yoongi, shush," you smile, making sure you catch his eye as you do so. Don't want him to think you're snapping. You just wanna hear the sections he's uncertain about in context with the rest of the song.

Quiet as the track begins to echo out, there's an uncharacteristically quaint piano faintly guiding the track. You know he plays, but it's rare for it to be a focal part of the songs he creates.

You understand immediately which section Yoongi's having trouble with - not because it sounds bad, just because the drop before the final chorus doesn't hit quite right. It builds and builds but the arrival at the final chorus is underwhelming.

"Rewind it a bit," you say, wanting to hear it again. Confirm that it's the right part.

Yoongi does as you ask, leaning over you slightly, and says, "Somethings off, right?"

Nodding, you listen for a third time. "Take away the guitar," you say.

He does. It's better, but still not right.

"Maybe you've overcomplicated it?" you muse, thinking that he needs to strip it back entirely, but not wanting to offend him.

"Hmm," he hums. "You think?"

He mutes a few more layers on the track. Plays it again. It's getting there.

"Better, right?" you ask.

He nods as he stands up straight, listening to it over again. Frowns. "Still not quite there."

"I think it might benefit from some distance," you suggest. "Come out with us tonight. Get your mind off this track. Might even get some inspiration."

Shaking his head, he watches as you stand and head towards the door. He's not been out with you since the night that never was. Doesn't enjoy the prospect of risking it all after a couple of drinks inevitably turns into a couple of bottles again - of which he knows it will. If you and Jimin are together, it will be messy. Just how it goes. Throw Jungkook and Tae into the mix? Disaster waiting to happen.

"Look," you sigh. "I know it's not really your thing - but the rest of the boys are game. They all want you there. Just think about it, okay?"

He purses his lips together. Smiles, and turns to face his computer screen once more. "Thanks for your help."

And just like that, you're dismissed. Considering the way he'd messaged you about Jungkook the day before, it went pretty well, you think. Try not to dwell on the fact he couldn't be less interested even if he tried.

It's funny, 'cause as Yoongi stews in his chair, rocking ever so gently, he sighs. Shakes his head. Grumbles to himself quietly: "'they all want you there'... but do you want me there?"

The boys aren't so disappointed when you return with no Yoongi behind you. They all knew what his answer would be, and only sent you so they didn't have to deal with his rejection.

"Took your time," Jimin notes.

You shrug. Deadpan. "Yeah, sorry, got distracted. Too busy shagging him."

"Really?!"

"No, of course not," you laugh, as if it's the funniest suggestion in the world. You sort of think it is. "Nah, he just wouldn't be convinced."

And so it comes as a surprise to everyone when Yoongi shows up at Jimin's place a couple of hours later with a bottle of whisky in hand.

"Shut the fuck up," is all he says as he walks into an absolute commotion, practically everyone in the room elated by his decision to join in. He hides his smile poorly, occasionally letting his teeth show despite his protests.

From the sofa, you catch his eye. Nod. He bunches up his face a little. Nods back - but is quickly distracted by Jimin holding up a clear shot glass filled with fuck knows what. You, too, find yourself distracted by chatter with the rest of the boys and a couple of the girls from the artist liaison team.

In the corner of the room, your phone is plugged into a charger. It's been there since you arrived. You've no need to check it - but you can never leave it too long.

You smile, butterflies kissing your tummy and making their way through your body when you eventually check it.

D4m0cl3s: got a work thing tonight, so probably won't be able to message much gonna be thinkin' about u tho don't miss me too much, clemmie x

The smile is hard to hide. You blame it on the alcohol.

Kind of like how Yoongi smiles half an hour later when he checks his own phone.

Cl3m3ntin3: been a busy bee today, sorry :( all work, no play? :( it'll make you dull, damocles boy x

But then he watches you as you laugh with Jungkook about something trivial. Reads over his messages again. Shakes his head.

Remembers you trying to convince him to join for the evening. How you'd called him Cinders. Told him that all work and no play made him dull.

His heart thuds in his chest. He swallows harshly. Pours a whisky. Swallows that, too.

Breathes a sigh of relief as he taps through a message - 'it's a play thing for work. promise i'll behave x' - and watches your phone after it's marked as 'delivered' in his chat feed.

Your phone is screen-up on the kitchen counter, just within his line of vision. It doesn't light up. Doesn't vibrate. Receives no message.

"Thank fuck," he mumbles, the sinking feeling in his chest lifting as he grabs a fresh whisky.

He quickly walks away from the scene of a crime that never was. Sort of like the night that never was. Is so pleased, in fact, that he's happy to sit beside you on the sofa as Jungkook sets up a drinking game with Jin.

Silly, really, how a few drinks seem to make him forget the concept of 'do not disturb' mode.

"Hey," you smile and he comes to sit down. "Glad you made it."

"Me too," he nods, lips thin, chin dimpling as a shy smile graces his face. He's a little whisky tipsy. Doesn't feel the need to keep such a strict distance from you, now.

"To a good night," you raise your glass to him, and he reciprocates. Clinks them together.

"To a good night."

STAIRWAY BAR Itaewon-ro, Yongsan-Gu

♪ // You First (Re: Remi Wolf)- Paramore

"You're never gonna be this young and this hot again," Jimin slurs after a few too many lemon drops. It's his third time making this point, because it's the third time you've shooed away a guy trying to make a move on you.

They've all been perfectly fine. Nice enough guys, you're sure, but you aren't interested in random hookups. The night really isn't about that. All you want to do is let your hair down with the boys you've known for most of your life.

As Jimin whines about the fact no one is ready to move onto a club yet, bored of the bar, part of you considers the novel idea that one of the men in your rejection pile could have been your Damocles boy. A funny thing to think about, really. He did say he was busy tonight. Said it was for work, but everyone knows how rowdy work dinners can get after the boss leaves.

He could be here. Could have his tail between his legs. Could be looking at you right now, without a clue.

The reality of that wouldn't please you, for it would mean he's out there searching for other women.

While he'd be well within his right to, you selfishly find that that you don't want him to. In fact, all you wanna do is send him a message. Let him know you're thinking of him. That you wish you were at home right now, alone in your sheets with nothing but an internet connection and that damn app to keep you company.

You're with friends, though. Can't open the app without fear of endless ridicule - and not to mention the fact your brother is with you. Not worth it.

As you come to join them, a fresh drink in your hand, you're easily distracted. Are brought back to reality by your favourite people. Neon lights on the ceiling, and relics of time spent in the bar pinned to the walls. Photobooth pictures, foreign currency. Life is embedded into the seams of this place, and it's reassuring, in a way. Makes your dependency on your Damocles boy a lot less intense. You can forget him. Live life. Neglect to check your phone.

"Objection!" Jungkook chimes, following you and Jimin to the corner booth of the bar where the rest of your friends sit. "Older women are, like, so hot. So damn hot. Damn." And then he's thinking to himself. Brows furrowed, pouty lips whistling out a hearty sigh as he shakes his head. Thinks about Jinyu. A couple of the older women at the record company. About Jimin's mother. Laughs. Nods. "Yeah, older women are where it's at."

Both of you look at him with an air of confusion, and yet neither of you question it.

"What did I miss?" Jin beams when he rejoins you, as a member of the bar staff follows him with a bottle of Ciroc resting in an ice bucket. Another staff member will soon bring you cans of drink to use as mixers, but you know damn well these boys will be shotting it down straight.

The bottle won't be on the house, but you know Jin will have charged it back to the company. Will get a bollocking from Hoseok the next time he's in the office. Doesn't care, cause he knows the band makes the record company more money than anyone else on the roster at the moment. The way he sees it, it's their money anyway.

"Jungkook's just declared his love for older ladies," Taehyung deadpans from the sofa opposite yours. "Nothing new."

"Better older than younger," Jin asserts, playfully pushing against your forehead as he walks past you and back to his seat.

As much as you're your own person, you're still his little sister, and the rest of his unruly group of friends will do well to remember that.

Jungkook snorts. Throws a smirk in your direction. "I can make exceptions."

"And I can get away with murder, Kook," Jin assures him - and he's probably right. As much as they like to play into the rock and roll lifestyle, they've got power. Fame. Something that hides them just as much as it projects them. "Don't even think about it."

There's laughter and chatter amongst everyone at such a declaration, but you can't help but wonder if a certain pair of eyes glanced your way upon hearing that.

It's not like Yoongi doesn't know Jin harbours such feelings. Told you the exact same thing, once: that Jin'd murder Jungkook if anything ever happened between the pair of you.

But you also remember what came next.

Even if it's never been spoken about since, you know that remembers, too. The way he refused to reply to your last text is testament to it.

See, he's been avoiding you since long before you got your little job with the company. Would turn down plans if you were in attendance. Declined invites to dinner, and bailed on drinks. Once you started working in such close proximity, it was harder to keep his distance, and so he built up walls.

They're steep, and they're topped with barbed wire. Impenetrable, or so it would seem.

Climbing has never been a strong point of yours, and scaling walls doesn't feel like a pastime you'd enjoy very much, so Yoongi's safe distance from you is kept. He's feline, in that way; how he'll stalk up trees and sit in amongst the branches, peering down at you. Out of reach, holding all the cards.

Flicking your eyes across to him, you find him embroiled in conversation with Namjoon. He's laughing, which admittedly does make you smile. It's been so long since you've been afforded the luxury of witnessing such a thing.

But you're torn from your thoughts by a sudden, sharp tug on your wrist, and don't even realise Jimin is dragging you out of your seat until you're already stumbling behind him. With a shrill yelp and soft giggle, you let him pull you to the stairs that lead up from the basement bar to the earthly realm above.

"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, as if you have any choice in the matter. He's got a death grip on you. You're coming along whether you like it or not. "The rest of them are being boring. I wanna dance."

"Maybe I was enjoying being boring!" You argue just for the sake of it, tapping at your pockets to make sure you've still got your phone with you. Not for any particular reason. Just to be safe. Totally not because you fear losing your only contact with your virtual lover. Nothing like that at all.

"Tough," Jimin asserts, not caring where you both end up just as long as there is a dancefloor and a dark corner.

It isn't for any sinister reason, but just because he isn't looking to be the life and soul of the party. His face isn't recognised in the same way that the other boys are, but it doesn't matter. He attracts attention regardless. Goes with the territory of having a face like his. Irresistible to men and women alike. You're yet to meet anyone who doesn't think he's the most beautiful man alive - though Jin certainly does take issue with such a title being awarded to anyone else but him.

But just like Jin, there's a magnetism about Jimin. Moths to a flame, the rest of the boys follow suit and head up towards the street. The entire area code is a cluster of bars and hole-in-the-wall food joints. It's made for this time of the night, when the clouds are shielding the eyes of the moon from all sorts of sin, just a few stray stars guiding the way.

Light pollution bleeds upwards and out. Even if you know the stars are there, you can't see them - and it's not like you get the chance to check either way, for Jimin's already pulling you down the stairs to another basement bar.

This one is larger - two stories. Quieter on the first floor, it's the second level where he wants to be.

A planner in both professional and personal life, even though he seems erratic and all out of order, Jimin has everything under control. Knows the managers of most (if not all) of the bars on this street. Called a favour in this afternoon for one of the downstairs booths, just adjacent to the dancefloor, to be roped off & reserved. Knew that some of the boys would, in his mind, be 'boring', but still wanted everyone together. It's the best of both worlds. He can dance, and they can talk, or whatever they wanna do.

♪ // Desert Eagle - Silica Gel

Min Yoongi doesn't dance. He drinks. He observes. He watches the debauchery unfold from a safe distance, much like he does with you. Sometimes - not always - he thinks. Ponders. Wonders if maybe he's wasting his time by not indulging in the same way other people do. If he's missing out. Considers perhaps his friends are right to revel in such mindless frivolities.

He doesn't debate his choices often, but as he gets comfortable in this new place, he can't help it. Thinks word must have gotten out about their planned attendance, 'cause he notices far more eyes on them than normal. Far more women vying for their attention. Men, too. Whether it be sex or status, their intrigue is always fuelled by something.

The rest of the boys revel in it.

Yoongi doesn't care for it - but there's a reputation to uphold. A brand image that being spotted in clubs and getting up to no good only helps. Seals them as the real deal. Gets them out of the bracket of 'posers' or manufactured, not that it really fuckin' matters.

There are two girls to each of them. Supply and demand. There aren't enough of The Scouts to go around, but people will share. Will take all they can get. Sharp eyeliner, pretty hair, the girls all have their wits about them, and it's potentially the worst part of it all - they're making the conscious, informed choice to lower themselves to a standard well beneath their worth.

The club stinks of sticky liquor and smoke, but beneath the veil they're all wearing the same perfume. Whatever's currently being marketed as 'irresistible' to men. Was vanilla a few years ago. Yoongi is certain it's something muskier now, but isn't sure what. Makes no difference to him.

There's only one perfume he knows he really likes, and has trained himself to despise it by association.

It's a shame that he hasn't trained himself to stop looking in your direction whenever he thinks of you. Is part of the reason he doesn't like drinking around you. Makes such stupid mistakes. His malevolent mask fails to hide him. The facade slips.

Tongue resting in the corner of his mouth, he doesn't realise he's staring. Eyes dark as they watch you with Jimin, Yoongi wonders if you've always had that tattoo just above your elbow. It's small, and dainty. Hard to make out from where he is, but when your arms are in the air, he's fixated on it. Thinks it must be new.

But then your arms drop to rest on Jimin's shoulders, and he's reminded of what you look like when you're all hot and bothered. Reminded of that night. The one that never was. Haunted by the rivulet of sweat that had trickled down your skin in a sauna that neither of you had any business being inside; just you and him in a silent descent into sin, and the smirk on your lips as his eyes had followed the droplet down your body.

His attention is yanked from you when an ice cube lands in his lap. Glacing across to the direction it came from as he pushes it to the floor, Yoongi scowls at Jungkook. "The fuck was that for?"

"Remember the rules," Jungkook smirks. "Look, but don't touch."

"Wasn't fuckin' looking," Yoongi sneers, completely ignorant of the women vying for his attention. "Was just thinking Jimin needs to to sober up. Man's a state. And unlike you, I wouldn't touch her if humanity depended on it."

"I'm a man of the people," Jungkook teases. "If repopulating the earth was my duty, I'd do it. Can't believe you wouldn't."

"She's got where she is today through sheer nepotism and audacity alone," Yoongi counters. "Doesn't have the kinda genes you'd wanna repopulate the earth with."

"Foul," Taehyung laughs. He's the only one of the boys without women hanging off him. Is stern and authoritative in his rejection of their advances; not yet married but wears a ring around his finger to let them know he's deadly serious. Landed himself in hot water a few months back after photos of him talking to a girl outside a bar - no matter how innocently - circulated online. A bad angle and misrepresentation of events had almost decimated the one thing he cares about more than the band: his relationship. Refuses to ever let it happen again. "Absolutely foul, Yoongi. You know you don't mean that."

"He just needs to get laid," Jungkook chimes in. "Has been celibate for so long he's forgotten how good sex is. Used to be a time he'd fuck anything willing with a pulse-"

It's not untrue. He was reckless in his youth - but aren't we all?

"Yeah, and then I grew up, Kook," Yoongi says with little to no emotion, getting to his feet. Taps his pocket to check for his phone, and then taps the other for his wallet. All there. "Should try it."

When Yoongi looks back up to the crowd, you're gone. He rolls his eyes. Shakes his head. Is almost mentally berating you, as if you've done something wrong - but you haven't, and he damn well knows it.

Perhaps that's the most frustrating part of it all: everything falls back on him. The awkwardness. The cold shoulders. The night that never was. If he would have just made more sensible choices back then, things could be easier now.

It's not that things are hard, as such - just that they aren't how they used to be. Rose-tinted glasses, and all that.

Over by the bar, there's a haze around you: clouded judgement, misted intentions.

The smallest things put a smile on your face, thanks to the alcohol in your veins. Could be the song that's already been played three times coming on yet again. Could be witnessing some random guy get pied by every single girl he approaches. Could be the way your vodka orange takes like juice. Anything and everything feels light. Airy. Breezy.

"What's so funny?" Some guy asks, leaning in a little closer to you - and just like that, your mood is soured. You're not here to make friends, but rather spend time with your pre-existing ones, and judging by the look on his face, he's hoping for a little more than friendship.

"Oh, nothing," you smile politely, crossing your arms over your chest as you angle your body away from his. Hope that he'll get the message.

He does. Just doesn't like it very much.

"No need to be a bitch," he sneers under his breath just loud enough for you to hear.

Normally, you'd leave it. Let him have his little tantrum. Be a big baby.

But you were in such a good mood, and you're annoyed that he's ruined it.

Wanna ruin his, too.

Snapping back to face him, you're about to launch into a tirade, but you come face-to-face with a chest that looks far too good in a simple T-shirt and find yourself faltering, instead.

Yoongi looks down at you, eyes dark, scowl ever-present. Says nothing. Just nods. You think he's asking if you're okay - so you nod back. Won't get into a debate over the fact you were perfectly fine, and have no issue asserting your boundaries with strangers.

Shoulders broad, the guy who had been bothering you is entirely eclipsed by Yoongi.

Glancing across to the bar staff, Yoongi nods. "Hibiki." Glances down at you. Checks the colour of your glass. It's obscured by the bar lights, but he knows it isn't dark enough to be coke, and remembers your order from before things got complicated. Figures some things haven't changed. Looks back towards the server. "Vodka Orange." Passes over his card. Says nothing to you. Just keeps his eyes on yours.

There's a subtle blush dusting his cheeks. The heat, you think. It's unnoticeable for the most part, but sometimes the lights hit him just right, and you're reminded of how warm he can be. How inviting.

He's always been impressive. Taller in sheer presence than he is in stature. Even back in high school, his nature was domineering. Respected. Lips gently parted, you're unable to move. Suddenly, nothing is funny anymore. It's heavy. Thick. Suffocating. You're deaf to the bass of the music that thumps through your body. Ignorant of the people moving around you.

But then Yoongi's being offered his card back, and Jimin bounds on into you like a lost puppy finally finding its owner.

"For me?!" Jimin exclaims as the drinks are slid across the bar, passing the vodka orange to you and picking up Yoongi's whisky for himself.

Shaking yourself from the shackles of Yoongi's stare, you look down. Realign your mind. Glance back over and nod a silent thank you - but then you turn and leave the drink by the bar. Head for the bathrooms. Refuse to look back, so utterly perplexed by what on earth just happened.

In a frank, factual recount of the events, Yoongi just stood beside you and ordered a drink.

In your hysterical, deluded mind, Yoongi just stood beside you and opened the skies; let a flood of water torrent down. Drowned everyone in the process save for you - except you're the one gasping now as you stare yourself out in the bathroom mirror.

Phone still on don't disturb, you pull it from your pocket and check just in case he's thinking of you.

Not Yoongi, no. You push him out of your mind. Think of your Damocles boy. He's the one you wished had joined you at the bar. The one you've been yearning for all night.

And sure enough, he has been thinking of you, too.

D4m0cl3s: there are some weirdos out and about tonight, clem keep yourself safe for me, okay?

It's strange, how guilt needlessly creeps in so silently that you don't even realise it's there until an invisible hand is over your mouth. You're suffocating again, or so it would seem. Drowning, maybe. Perhaps Yoongi wasn't saving you at all; he was dragging you down instead.

You wish you were at home. Wish you weren't so drunk. Wish you could think straight. Wish your balance was a little better - but it's not, and as you try and think of a response that goes beyond 'i miss you' or a 'you should be here', you stumble a little. Lose your footing. Grab onto the sink to stop yourself from falling over entirely, only to send your phone crashing to the floor.

"Fuck," you curse, scrambling down to get it, only to be greeted with a fracture splintering right over the top of your front camera. Pulling up the app, it's very quickly clear that the camera absolutely ruined - but for the most part, your screen is okay. "Fuck."

You think it's a sign: go home.

Even if you're drunk, and you're in the business to make some bad decisions, you know that your Damocles boy is right. There are some weirdos about tonight, and as fucked up as it all seems, 'safe' feels a lot like a message thread with a man you've never met.

Instead of replying to him, you open up your thread with Jimin. Let him know you're going home. Make your way up the stairs and out of the bar without looking back. It's rare for you to cry when you drink, but it kind of feels like you will now, and for no good reason. Just had a little too much, that's all.

The light around fades from the invasive red of the club into the murky blue hues of the streets.

And yet, there's a lovely little red flag waiting by the top of the stairs, unaware of your decision to head home, too.

"You leaving already?" You chirp in surprise upon realising who it is.

The sound of your voice, and the fact it's addressing him, seems to take Yoongi by surprise when he turns to face you.

"I, uh," he pauses. Looks down. Seems to be a little flustered. You wonder what's going inside that head of his, but when his eyes meet yours again, you decide you're better off not knowing. "Can't be home too late. I'm sorta seeing someone. Gotta get back for them."

"Oh," you say quietly.

I'm seeing someone.

"Yeah."

It's not like it matters, it's just that you never expected to hear him say those words. He's married to his music. Always has been. Spends his nights in the studio, not sleeping next to someone else.

Or perhaps he doesn't anymore. Just goes to show how little you know of his life these days.

"That's nice," you chirp, swallowing down your surprise. "Yeah. That's really nice, actually. I'm pleased for you."

In a way, it makes sense. Perhaps his strangeness lately has been less to do with you and more to do with himself and the fact he genuinely doesn't care about the past anymore. Thoughts of the night that never was are genuinely reserved for your brain, and your brain alone. Have no place in his. His warning about Jungkook was due to lessons learned by him.

"And you?" He asks, noticing the slight discomfort in your tone. He wouldn't normally entertain such frivolous conversations with you, but he's only human. Alcohol still gets him a little loose-lipped, too. "What's new in your love life?"

You laugh, now. Good fuckin' question. Genuinely don't know how to describe your Damocles boy, or if you even want to.

"Nothing new."

"No?"

"No," you smile in such a way that Yoongi knows you're not telling the whole truth - but who is he to pry?

"Well," he says, then coughs to clear his throat. Look out to the street ahead of you both. It's full of drunk revellers, and you're certain at least half of them will have The Scouts in their playlists. Yoongi's position in the band means he's never front and centre, so no one notices him like this. If they do, they're being incredibly discreet about it. "I'm sure you'll meet someone soon."

"Maybe," you shrug, knocking your shoulder against his arm. "Be easier if you didn't stand in front of every guy who shows an interest in me."

"It was one guy," he laughs, knowing not to take you too seriously. "And you know he was a creep. Was just standing in for your brother."

"Yeah," you nod, not caring to counter him, or to remind him how fucked up it is to refer to himself like that. Folding your arms over your chest, you're regretting the lack of a coat. Had left it back at pre-drinks, because a little bit of liquor and you suddenly think you're a child of the sun. "You're right. Thanks for that."

"No worries," Yoongi shrugs. Is about to offer you his jacket, when a taxi rolls up. "This yours?"

"Yeah," you nod, recognising the number plate from the taxi you'd ordered via an app when you'd been in the bathroom. "Want a lift?"

He shakes his head. "Gotta head to the studio first."

"Yoongi, you're drunk," you laugh. "What did I tell you about all work?"

"Yeah, yeah, dull boy," he laughs too - but it's not you he's thinking of as he recites it. It's the girl he's heading home for that enters his mind, and how she'd said something similar. Shaking his head, he's confused at how easily thoughts of her intertwine with how easy it can be to joke with you. Puts it down to the alcohol. His head's a mess. "Inspiration doesn't wait. Let Jimin or someone know when you're home."

"Get in the cab," you insist at his need to be difficult. "I'll route it past the studio. Inspiration doesn't wait," you imitate a little childishly, which does get him smiling. "Better to get to it quickly, no?"

He looks around. Looks a little uncomfortable. You don't take it personally. He looks like this a lot of the time around you. Even before it all got weird.

Eventually, he sighs. Relents.

"Route it to yours," he says. "I'll carry on to the studio."

"Studio is closer," you tell him, knocking your head to the side, pulling open the door. "C'mon. The driver will leave if you don't hurry up."

"And Jin'll kill me if you get stolen," he reminds you, as if that would be likely to happen. Even if the taxi driver was a creep, there are cameras everywhere in places like this. You're as safe as can be. "You first. Non-negotiable."

"You're a tough bargainer," you hum with narrowed eyes. He is at least here, and not walking in the cold. Would have to cross the river to get to the studio, and the thought of any of them drunkenly walking along it alone scares you. "Fine. But you better not get stolen, either. Twitter would have a meltdown- no, Twitter would kill me if you get stolen."

"Shut up," he laughs. Knows The Scouts have a fanbase that could scare even political leaders into submission, if they really wanted to. "They don't even know who you are."

But Yoongi is forgetting who your brother is. Forgetting that there's a good reason why Jungkook has 'look but don't touch' etched into his brain. Forgetting that there are Twitter accounts dedicated to posting updates from your socials, just for a glimpse of The Scouts.

And as you let silence simmer into the taxi, not caring to keep up a conversation, you're none the wiser that those exact fan accounts are currently screaming into the void.

The Yoongi-dedicated update accounts, too.

In fact, the entire app is on fire - and it's not gonna be an easy one to put out.

03:31AM

D4m0cl3s: you still out, clem?

Cl3m3ntin3: why? miss me?

D4m0cl3s: never

Cl3m3ntin3: hmmm well in that case, yes i am x

D4m0cl3s: i think you're lying you answered far too quickly

Cl3m3ntin3: i think you should just admit that you miss me and u just caught me at a good time :/

D4m0cl3s: but i don't? and ur nose must be soooooo big pinocchio

Cl3m3ntin3: yeah you do you've missed me sooooo much tonight, havent you? bet you've been all mopey just thinking about me aaaaaaall night me & my proportionally sized nose x

D4m0cl3s: dunno what you mean

Cl3m3ntin3: well, are you home?

D4m0cl3s: almost

Cl3m3ntin3: not even home yet and already texting me... but you don't miss me? you're lucky you've got such a nice cock i wouldn't let your lies slide so easily if you didn't

D4m0cl3s: so you're only with me for my cock?

Cl3m3ntin3: i'm not with you

D4m0cl3s: ouch noted

Cl3m3ntin3: you're the one who refuses to have me, remember?

D4m0cl3s: you know it's not like that, clem

Cl3m3ntin3: i know, babe i'm just fucking with you figuratively (sadly) i'm with friends though - i'll let you know when i'm alone, alright?

D4m0cl3s: don't worry about me enjoy your night trouble message me in the morning, yeah?

Cl3m3ntin3: if this is a ploy to make me message you first, it wont work

D4m0cl3s: finei 'll message you

Cl3m3ntin3: keen

D4m0cl3s: you love it

Cl3m3ntin3: suuuure i do

D4m0cl3s: stay safe, babe drink water before bed

Cl3m3ntin3: you wanna drink some clementine juice before bed?

D4m0cl3s: i dont think they make clementine juice and no you know the rules sleep off the alcohol first then send me pictures of that gorgeous cunt in the morning, yeah?

Cl3m3ntin3: and what will i get in return?

D4m0cl3s: the video i've just taken of myself stroking my big hard cock just for you

Cl3m3ntin3: fuck send it now? pls x

D4m0cl3s: keen and no x

Cl3m3ntin3: c'monnnn :(

D4m0cl3s: in the morning, baby just know that i'm a little drunk but so fuckin' hard

Cl3m3ntin3: no whiskey dick? i'm impressed

D4m0cl3s: i'm thinking about you nothing will ever stop me from getting hard when im thinking about you

Cl3m3ntin3: watcha thinkin about? gimmie specifics x i wanna touch myself

D4m0cl3s: that pretty cunt of yours how fuckin' wet you get god i wanna fuck you nice and slow NO FUCK STOP TEMPTING ME YOU SIREN

Cl3m3ntin3: 🙁

D4m0cl3s: in the morning

Cl3m3ntin3: you promise?

D4m0cl3s: i promise, baby go spend time with your friends message me if you need anything

Cl3m3ntin3: your dick?

D4m0cl3s: anything other than that you'll get it in the morning, clemmie promise x

D4m0cl3s is offline

GENIUS LAB Big Hit Ent, Yongsan-gu

"All good?" Yoongi hums as the door to his studio clicks shut. 

He'd left the door on the latch so you could get back in when you went to the bathroom. Could have just given you the code, but he didn't want you to think he'd be making a habit of this. It's a limited-time offer. Not one that can be redeemed whenever you like. It's now, and now only.

"Yeah, yeah," you nod, pulling on the back of the spare desk chair Yoongi had rolled up beside his. You don't look at him, just at the screens as you tell a little white lie. "Just let Jimin know I was okay."

Yoongi grunts some sort of agreement, but doesn't vocalise a response as such.

It's not like a complete subversion of the truth. A text has been sent to your group chat. The one with just Jungkook and Jimin. No one else needs to know your business, as far as you're concerned.

It's just that a few more texts have been sent to your Damocles boy—but that's none of Yoongi's business. You're sure he wouldn't care to know.

You're also sure he's regretting the request for help bestowed upon you on the ride back. He'd mentioned the song he was going to work on, and you'd offered to lend an ear again. 

It's not an unheard-of thing. There are a couple of tracks on the last album that have been tweaked as a result of your ear, including their biggest single. You're not listed in the credits, but you never asked to be. Was just helping out a friend—even if said friend then decided to become an asshole when they started making a name for themselves.

You're tipsy, and so is Yoongi. It's easier to forget how fraught things have become when you're like this. You wouldn't be here right now if you hadn't had a few too many drinks. 

You also probably wouldn't be trending all over twitter, but you're still blissfully unaware of this.

"Same track as before, right?" You ask, kicking your shoes off to get a little more comfortable on the chair.

Again, words fail Yoongi. You're forced to decipher his small noises, 'cause it's all he tends to offer you. It's not like it's a uniquely you issue—the boys have learned to speak in Yoongi-code, too. 

"Okay, play it from the start," you tell him. "Show me what we're working with."

There's a cautious nature to the way Yoongi works. So preoccupied with creating perfection, he hates letting people hear his work before it's reached his self-imposed arbitrary standards. There's only a very small circle who gets the privilege of seeing how his brain works.

Despite his ever-present disdain for you, it seems like you're one of the lucky few. He'll never acknowledge this. Never admit that he favours your opinions, because he genuinely doesn't think he does.

You're frank with him. Will tell him how it is. Don't sugarcoat it. Aren't seeking his approval, so don't care to lick his ass just to keep him happy—not that he ever wants you to lick his ass. Could think of nothing worse. Not because he isn't into it, but because the thought of being with you repulses him in a way he can't quite describe. Even thinking about it makes him shudder.

But maybe that's the issue. Maybe the shudder is indicative of something else entirely.

"Yoongi?" You ask, drawing him from his thoughts. The song has finished, but he doesn't even really recall listening to it at all.

"Hm?" He hums. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"The lyrics," you say. "What's the song about? 'Cause at the moment, musically, it sounds like a heartbreak song and love song all at the same time, and I think that's what's confusing about it. It can't decide what it wants to be."

Yoongi frowns.

"It's not really either," he supposes.

In the dim lighting of his studio, Yoongi is at his very best. Focused, he's shrewd in his astute calculations. Can put together different sounds and construct melodies you wouldn't even be able to dream of. For all of his issues, there is one undeniable truth: the man is a musical genius.

It's why this is all so perplexing to him. He hates not knowing how to make things right. This is his job. It's what he excels at—and yet he's failing.

"Well, what's it about?" You softly ask, turning to look at him. "Do you have the lyrics?"

Guard clearly up, the way Yoongi looks at you is puzzling. Whatever he's written isn't something that he wants to share.

"What?" you laugh, trying to not make a big deal of things. You know how quickly he closes up, and can already sense it happening. "You told me you're seeing someone, remember? God forbid you accidentally expose the fact you're a human being with real feelings."

You half think he might smile.

He doesn't.

Instead, he reaches across his desk for a small black notebook. A little weathered, it's clearly seen a lot of thoughts in the past. The leather of the cover is tarnished, and there's a faded sticker from some instrument brand wrapping around the spine.

"Just don't ask any fuckin' questions," he grumbles.

Rolling your eyes, you gladly accept the book. Tuck your thumb between the pages where a natural divide occurs. It's testament to how long Yoongi has spent agonising over the same words.

His handwriting never changes much. Always messy. Always hard to decipher.

Or at least, it's hard for other people. You've never found it to be too taxing.

What's curious this time are the little doodles on the page. Blossoms and small fruits.

"Cherries?" You ask, chirping with a little curiosity. It's hard to work out exactly what they are, but cherries seem like the most likely thing.

Yoongi just grunts.

Getting anything from him is like getting blood from a stone.

"How the fuck do you have a functioning relationship?" You mutter, casting your eyes back down to his words. The way he refuses to converse with you is infuriating.

"I said no questions," he curtly reminds you.

The way you roll your eyes this time is far less kind. Tossing the book back down on the desk, you reach for your shoes and get to your feet without a word.

"Where are you going?"

"Home," you tell him, as your hand reaches for the door handle. "You asked me for help, Yoongi—but I can't do jack shit if you won't let me."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask for critique on my relationship, did I?" He snaps back. Feels his skin get all hot. Clammy. Relationship. That's not how he'd define what he's got going on. He doesn't know why he did call it that. Doesn't know why he didn't just ignore you, when you're clearly trying to wind him up.

"You're impossible," you tell him, patience thin. The alcohol made it easier to be friendly with him, but it also makes it easier to fight, too.

"And you're unbearable!"

"Me?!" You say with such offense it almost surprises Yoongi. Turning around to fully face him, you let go of the the door handle. Let it whisper shut, the lock softly clicking into place. You're willingly trapped in the confines of his studio. Could just leave. Instead, you choose to fight. "Oh, you have some fucking nerve—"

"I thought you were going?" He cuts you off, responding to your change in position by getting to his feet too. He's not one for confrontation, but there's something about you that just gets under his skin. Makes him wanna fight right back. "So why don't you just fuckin' go?"

"I am," you assure him. You should have known that this would end in disaster. "But maybe if you channelled some of this pent-up frustration into your music, maybe you'd actually get somewhere."

"I don't need you telling me how to do my job," he sneers. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm doing perfectly fine without your unsolicited advice."

Unbelievable. Was he not the one who asked for your help? Repeatedly?

"Holy shit," you scornfully laugh. "Listen to yourself, you deluded prick! You asked—"

"Yeah, well if you didn't insist on sticking your big fuckin' Pinnochio nose into everything—"

"My big nose?! Oh, you are such an asshole."

"You're no fuckin' daisy, either," he snaps. Doesn't even really know why he's being so rude. Just knows he doesn't want to back down. Doesn't wanna let you win. "Just do us all a favour and quit before the tour. No one wants you there."

It's never been a secret that Yoongi harbours contempt for the way in which you got your jobs, but you know damn well that you've proven your worth. If it was anyone else saying these words, you'd probably be offended.

Instead, you just shake your head. Laugh. Walk a little closer just to piss him off. Encroach upon his personal space.

"Tell me, Yoongi," you say quietly, picking off a little dust from his shirt just to see how he reacts. To your surprise, he lets you. Just looks down at you. Watches to see what you'll do next. Eyes flicking up to his, the air between you is frightfully thin. "If I quit, how would you explain it to Jin? Hmm? Would you tell him the way you speak to me?"

"I've got nothing to hide," Yoongi replies just as quietly. There's an intimacy to be found somewhere hidden between your mutual disdain and heated anger. The kind of coldness that can only come from someone you once knew to be warm. "He knows you're a piece of work."

This does make you laugh. "Nothing to hide, huh?"

"Nothing," he says. His jaw is tense, and his eyes are even more so. "Nothing happened that night."

"Yoongi, I didn't even mention that night," you remind him with a smirk, pleased at your ability to get under his skin. 

That night has lingered with you both: the scent of damp cedar wood and the sensation of sweltering heat against your clammy skin. It's not the kind of thing you forget, even if you never speak of it. Not with Jimin, not with Jungkook, and especially not with Yoongi.

"Just get out of my studio," he growls, eyes centred on yours. He's unwavering in the way that he stares you out; unashamed and uncompromising.

"Gladly," you say as you pull away from him.

You're not gonna beg him to be cordial with you. This atmosphere is a product of his own creation, and as miserable as it is, he's gonna have to be the one to fix it. Both as stubborn as one another, you know damn well it's gonna stay like for a while.

The door slams shut. No amount of soundproofing can obscure the way Yoongi curses into the void left by you.

But right on time, as you reach the door that leads out onto the street, your phone vibrates in your pocket. It's a little longer than the vibration of your other apps, so you know exactly what it is. Who it is. Solace is found in the form of notifications from him. Satisfaction, too.

D4m0cl3s: fuck it i need you, now, clem

D4m0cl3s added new media to the chat!

end of part two

[valberryventi]

all metaphors fall away when diluc ragnvindr becomes a little tipsy.

the winery's business party starts off seamlessly. no one was drinking excessively just yet (except for that bard, of course). as host, he wanted to stay sober. he knew every drink by heart, every scent, every measurement. surely, in this party, he wouldn't drink. he's always known to keep his hands off the alcohol, so why now?

it takes a rosy-cheeked smile from you from the other side of the banquet hall, and diluc absentmindedly takes a drink with firewater, bulle fruit, and zatyun peaches. diluc first thinks it was juice, that is, until, the light buzz of alcohol gets to his head. kaeya's gotten too good at mixing drinks, damn him.

you were a painter. you were his go-to artist when it came to commissioning moments he'd like to keep in the brushstrokes. you had frequent interaction with him leading up to this event, and, well, he's gotten quite fond of you.

with a bit of the cocktail flowing through his system, he takes another look at you and thinks archons, you're amazing. breathtaking. stunning. he wanted to take your hand and kiss the back of it. he wanted to have you in ways a gentleman would disprove of. he wanted to be selfish—a word he despises, yet inserted itself in his vocabulary at the thought of you.

your hands brush against his as you make your way through the crowd. you give him another smile as pink dusts your cheeks ever-so slightly, but diluc doesn't miss it.

"diluc," you shake him out of his reverie as you catch him stare. "are you alright?"

he absolutely wanted your lips on his at that very moment. he manages to make eye contact with you, taking your hand in his gently. he almost doesn't notice the way your blush deepens despite the dim lighting.

"of course i'm alright." he says. the liquid courage hits him in that split second, now that he had your hand in his. he takes a deep breath.

"i would like to request you be with me for the rest of the evening."

you raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your heart from beating too loudly. "and what does my presence have to do with anything?"

he smiles back at you this time, thumb rubbing circles over your hand, hoping he conveyed it properly through his tipsy state. "i like having you with me... that is, if you do not m—"

"i don't mind." you step closer to him. "i've been waiting for you to say that all night."

diluc's eyes sparkle with mirth. "then we have no problem."

all metaphors fall away when diluc ragnvindr becomes a little tipsy. but, perhaps, it was you who made him remove all the unnecessary flowery musings and thoughts. after all, you were already the poetry and the art he wanted in his life.

hi guys! it's been a while hehe. i wrote this in an actual tipsy state and i was being very direct so. uh. why not project on my beloved fictional man

if you guys want to read more of this, let me know via asks! i've been meaning to do an x reader / character / lore analysis but i am too Afraid. anyway have this hehe

[iamcautiouslyoptimistic]

Call of Duty but make it 🐺werewolves🐺

{Author's Note} Inspired by @deadbranch's werewolf AU so definitely go check it out. I’ve leaned more into the supernatural aspect than her series has and thought it'd be fun to post it for October hehe. If y'all want some good werewolf/soldier content, check out the "Shape-Shifters" episode from Netflix's Love, Death, and Robots. It fits this AU perfectly and gives a good visual for how things would work. >Call of Duty Werewolves AU -> Part 2 *I’d love hearing any ideas y’all have and would be happy to answer with more headcanons if you guys want. Werewolves and werewolf AUs are my JAM*

~ ~ ~

First, some lore for this AU...

>Werewolves are usually forced into organizations like the military to keep them under control. They are feared by most of humanity and treated more as assets rather than citizens with laws put into place to make sure they don't hurt the people around them. Medication is often taken to suppress their lycanthropy and violent force is used if they ever get out of hand. There are plenty of groups who specialize in the hunting and killing of werewolves.

>Natural werewolves are born with their abilities and have an easier time with their transformations as a result. 

>Bitten werewolves gain their abilities after being bitten by another werewolf. They tend to be more vicious when transformed and often have a harder time managing themselves. 

>Transformations are not dictated by the cycles of the Moon but instead by a werewolf’s will and emotions. However, many werewolves revere the Moon and often hold celebrations as it passes through its phases each month.

>Werewolves only gain about a foot in height when they transform, due to the shape of their feet changing and their spine lengthening to allow for quadrupedal movement (ex. 6'4" -> 7'4"). Their muscle mass/weight remain about the same as it is the face and head that undergo the most dramatic changes.

>Hair length and style remain relatively the same when transformed. Bitten werewolves tend to have less hair than natural werewolves. 

>Eyes are reflective in both forms; natural werewolves keep their human eye colors when transformed, while bitten werewolves tend to have more unusual eye colors (brown to amber, blue to silver, etc.). 

>Moon madness/blindness is when a werewolf is overwhelmed by the light of a full moon and transforms without meaning to, regressing to a state of mind that is driven more by instinct rather than higher reason (werewolf equivalent to human psychosis). This is more common among bitten werewolves and can lead to violent outbursts if not properly addressed.

>Among werewolves, moonstones are said to restore a werewolf’s humanity when they’ve lost control. Because of their relative rarity, however, this belief exists only in the realm of legend rather than truth. 

🌙 🐺 🌙

💲Price is well-known for his experience and the ease with which he can transform. He commands those around him with confidence, acting as a supporting presence and capable leader. He should never be underestimated, however, as his temper frightens even the toughest werewolves.

💀Ghost was nearly killed by the werewolf who turned him and so views his lycanthropy as more of a curse. He bears numerous scars from the attack and tends to be quite vicious when transformed. He is the largest of the 141 with oversized fangs, tufted ears, and blazing amber eyes. 

🧼Soap comes from a family of Scottish werewolves who eagerly embrace their lycanthropy. He has great control over his transformations and suffers little pain as a result. His trademark Mohawk and bright blue eyes remain when shifted, making him easily identifiable.

🧢Gaz still struggles with his transformations after being bitten but he doesn't find them particularly overwhelming. Price and Soap have both been a huge help in that regard, offering their advice and companionship when needed. He's become far more confident in his abilities and enjoys the company of his fellow lycanthropic soldiers.

🦿Alex was attacked by a moon-blinded werewolf and unfortunately lost his lower left leg as a result. He's managed to find enjoyment in his new life, however, thanks in part to his association with the 141, and uses his enhanced abilities to his advantage. Laswell had a unique prosthetic made for him that adapts to his transforming body.

🪦Graves is a born-and-bred werewolf. He’s proud of his abilities and encourages use of them among his Shadows. He makes for a loyal and headstrong soldier who is known for his disarming charm and willingness to get his hands dirty. Shadow Company functions more as a tight-knit family rather than a horde of military operatives, due primarily to Graves’ leadership and his embracing of their lycanthropy.

[sycamorality]

wouahh. slugcat lineup of all my designs hehe. judge on its own though that slugcat is really big oops. im only gonna tag the main rw guys here but otherwise whenever i draw the others theyll have their own tag. ALSO SAINTS DESIGN IS A LITTLE OUTDATED BUT I DIDNT WANNA EDIT IT TO UPDATE IT

gatherer was the first slugcat purposed by sig, sent with a distasteful message - and is also technically hunter's sibling! and so is judge..... but judge's lore is for later.

individuals under cut!!!

survivor is albino i like them :]

just a guy... you couldnt say no to monk's little eyes could you

third sibling! i went really mint on this one i think

nightcat!! a winged purposed messenger. theyre blind because of a bioengineering fuckup and instead rely on tracking iterator signals, which they use their whiskers for.

hunter! uh oh rot and green blood due to green rot.

gatherer! hunter's "technically sibling" and sig's first slugcat. their tail is prehensile :] they're based on an iggy projection slugcat!

gourmand! oh love the her. cherish the her. i love gourmand. she has a little pouch for sluppies! she can fit about 8 or more in that pouch. she's big

artificer, copper/firedancer and phosphore/flashbang! firedancer has green fire and is thusly named copper hehe. not many notes on these guys :o i just really like artificer's design.

rivulet!! teal!! and i hueshifted my original gradient a bit to fit this. i like them a lot

speam and laceweaver! laceweaver was a spearmaster prototype that suns kept. laceweaver mentored spearmaster alongside another prototype i haven't designed yet. the others.... didn't make it. suns didn't send the gold pearl for me! thats something pebbles made himself. i did alter downpour a lot because there's some things i don't particularly like and downpour is only really an au thats adding onto canon. dont get me wrong i like it but uh oh ramble i'll get into that if prompted

(darker colors are used for the more echo-y saint doodles; the whites are just colors i use for snow) saint! though i've altered the tail pattern design a bit though, usually it's more like this when i draw it.

though this design is also a bit more echo-y but the tail pattern is the same regardless. also the wings uhoh i need to redo a ref for saint

(the dark brown is used for the scars with dodge layers of the same color ontop)

inv- or "the vestige! um. they bleed void fluid. thats why they have those scars. this is canon to my askblog. im working on the lore rewrite we'll get there soon

[notsodailycake]

Happy Moments

My Kofi

So here's a little something that was supposed to be a simple doodle for a role-play turned into a full piece with background. Which I still am not a fan of, but this is the best it'll get, I'm not redoing it😭. This was done a few days ago already, but I kept forgetting to post it lol.

This is for my fnaf sb au called "Hero's Breach." Who the characters are is for you guys to decide, I won't be revealing any lore for this au until I decide if imma make a comic, fanfic, or just lore dump in one post at some point in the future. But also, I'm not revealing lore bc the person I'm role-playing with also doesn't know the full lore, and I wanna surprise them lol.

I'm open to hearing any guesses, tho. But I will say, the ones on the corner are indeed Vanessa and Gregory :)

On a final note, this drawing, I'll say, is one of my best pieces shading wise. I struggle alot with shading and was hating how it was turning out, but I think I did well for the final product. The hilights sold it for me tho, without them, it looks really bad to me, and guess what? They are so small and seemed so insignificant until i removed the layer💀

So yeah, highlights are important, heh. I didn't even need to add much filters to hide the shading like i did with my older drawings. Still not 100% happy with how i shade, as much as I am proud of my lineart, but we'll get there I'm sure, I just....I just need to shade more often lmao.

Also, fun fact, the teen girl has a stardew valley pin on her, see if u can find it hehe

[1caru]

Please! Can you give us more LU in twilight’s hyrule?

More ancestor and descendant relationship between time and twilight! 🥹 *cries*

hehe I'm honored that you like my work so much and want more <3

unfortunately I already have a ton of other projects lined up, so I can't promise anything yet, but you did remind me that I wanted to write a bit of a second part to my Time and Skull Kid comic, so I whipped this up for you. it's not really edited or anything but hopefully you enjoy it anyway~

(here's the link to the comic that comes before this for anyone who hasn't seen it yet, please read it for context:

"Hold on, where's the old man?"

Twilight turned around sharply, drawing a surprised yelp from the sailor sitting on his shoulders. "What?"

"He was just here," said Four, "Did he just... wander off? That's not like him."

"Maybe he got grabbed by something!" Wind exclaimed, searching the dense foliage for any signs of monsters.

"We haven't seen any monsters since we arrived here, though," Hyrule said thoughtfully, “And we would have heard him put up a fight.”

Dread began to build in Twilight's chest as his wolfish senses caught the faintest sound of an ocarina. He lowered Wind from his back and approached Legend, pulling his map out and offering it to the veteran. "I'll go look for him. There's a Spirit Spring not far from here, wait for us there," he explained, tracing the path with his finger, "The tunnel up ahead is dark, so you'll need a lantern, but the tunnel after that is well lit and leads right to the spring. I'll be back soon."

"Hold your horses, rancher," Legend said, grabbing Twilight's shoulder with his free hand before the man could run off into the woods, "Shouldn't one of us come with you, just in case?"

"I... I think I know where he went," Twilight said softly, "Don't worry, I know every corner of these woods. Trust me."

Legend released Twilight's shoulder and watched as he almost immediately shifted into wolf form and darted back down the trail they had been following. He sighed and motioned to the rest of the group, glancing back at the map in his hand. "Well, come on then, guys."

*

Twilight raced along the scent trail, muscle memory carrying him effortlessly over tree roots and through small tunnels left by local wildlife. His ears flattened against his head in panic when he picked up Time's trail, heading in the exact direction he had predicted. Would he reach his mentor in time? Or had the man already discovered that which he should not see?

The plaintive whistle of the ocarina, which had been gradually increasing in volume, came to an abrupt halt, and Twilight's heart jumped in his chest as if to mimic it.

He was too late.

His paws slowed to a defeated trot as he approached the quiet clearing. He shifted back into his Hylian form, then silently crept through the bushes, bracing himself for what he would find.

Time knelt in the clearing with his back to Twilight, his arms wrapped around a very familiar little spirit. Just beyond them, a simple gravestone sat nestled in the mossy ground, the inscription on it as clear as the day it was chiseled:

Link, Hero and Mentor.

The spirit in Time's arms lifted his face from where it had been buried in the man's shoulder. Little yellow eyes met Twilight's pale blue ones, and the spirit gasped. “Link! Doggy Link is here too!”

Time turned in surprise, as if just remembering who he had been traveling with until ten minutes ago. He smiled at Twilight for a moment, but suddenly found it hard to make eye contact when he noticed the expression on his protege's face.

“Um, Skull Kid, would you give us a moment?” he asked softly, looking down at the spirit that was still clinging to him.

Skull Kid held on tighter, suddenly looking very scared that Time might simply vanish if he let go.

“I'm not going anywhere, I promise,” Time soothed, “I just need to talk to him. I'll stay right here, okay?”

Twilight nodded behind him.

Skull Kid studied Twilight for a moment, then looked up at Time. “...Okay,” he murmured. He picked up the ocarina he had dropped earlier and pressed it into Time's hand. “Play this when you are done, okay? You better play it!”

Time smiled. “I will.”

He watched Skull Kid hop off into the trees, then rose to his feet, cradling the little tan ocarina in his hand. His thumb ran over the polished surface, the texture so familiar yet such a distant memory. He looked back at the gravestone, suddenly regretting that time their little group had taught each other how to read their different Hylian scripts.

“Seems I've wandered somewhere I should not have gone, haven't I?” he sighed.

Twilight walked into the clearing and stood by Time's side, somberly following his mentor's gaze. “Did Skull Kid tell you anything?”

“No,” Time replied, “But actions often say more than words can.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, unsure how to approach the subject at hand.

Twilight opened his mouth to speak, but Time quickly raised a hand to stop him. “Pup, I will not ask for an explanation if you do not want to give it. The flow of time is all too easily altered after all, one little word can completely change the course of history. However,” he continued, turning towards the young man, “I've seen the way you look at me, especially when our journey began. Someone your age should not have to look so sad. If telling me about this will ease some of the burden you carry, then I am more than happy to listen.”

Twilight looked up at him, his thoughts tripping over themselves in an effort to reach a decision. He desperately wanted to tell Time everything, how he had met him, what he knew of his mentor's fate. He wanted to tell him that changing the flow of time was his greatest desire, that he wished every day for a way to save Time from a death filled with regret and sorrow. And yet, his mind always wandered to that moment, when he had dealt the final blow to Ganondorf. The blow that Time's spirit had taught him. Would he had been able to defeat the Demon King if his ancestor had not been there to guide him? Would “saving” Time ultimately mean dooming Hyrule? Would it mean dooming more young heroes after him to take up the sword and attempt what he could not accomplish?

The rancher closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Time's breastplate as his shoulders sagged and tears threatened to form. Time held him close, rubbing gentle circles on his arm with one hand and wrapping the other around his upper back, still clutching the ocarina.

“It's more of a memorial than a grave,” Twilight eventually spoke, "I met your spirit during my journey. You taught me your sword techniques. I suppose I just wanted to thank you by honoring your memory."

Time hummed in response. “I must have been a good teacher then. Your skills are amazing to watch in action.”

Twilight let out a watery chuckle. “They saved my life more times than I can count.” He rested in Time's arms for a moment more, then pulled away with a small smile. “I think that's all I can say for now. Go ahead and spend some time with Skull Kid, I'll tell the others you'll catch up later. Ask Skull Kid to lead you to Ordon Village when you're done.”

“Thank you,” Time said gratefully.

Twilight nodded and headed back out of the clearing.

“...You know,” Time continued, looking at the ocarina thoughtfully, “That song he was playing, it's not from Hyrule.”

Twilight paused.

“It holds a very powerful magic, one said to put the sorrows of the departed who hear it to rest and allow them to pass on peacefully.”

Pale blue eyes widened as another memory floated to the surface. A stone sitting on a mountain path, howling a song that he had mimicked without wondering what it meant. A song that had been answered by a golden wolf with a single eye. A Shade, uttering words that Twilight had almost forgotten in his worry over Time.

At last, I have eased my regrets.

Perhaps things would turn out all right in the end after all.

[mizuki-herazaki]

TWST Boys walk in on you changing

Hey! it's been awhile! Here are the twisted Bois reacting to walking in on you changing, just for funs!

Riddle Rosehearts

Would get flustered and close the door as fast as he opened it,

Apologizes profusely during and afterwards

It's gonna take a while to calm him down, and please stop him from hitting his head.

(he would do it as punishment and hope he forgets what he saw)

Cater Diamond

Walks in happily until he opens his eyes and goes red.

His phone camera is pointed at him (thankfully) so the chat only sees him blushing in bewilderment.

He doesn't snap out of it until you yell his name and throw something telling him to get out.

He freaks out and gets more flustered, shouting an apology as he runs out.

Chat still questions what happened till this day (It's forbidden lore)

Deuce Spade

Baby was not prepared at all

Absolute fear (he's innocent guys)

He probably turns white and gets a nose bleed before passing out

when he wakes up he sincerely apologizes

(It's gonna be a bit until he can look you in the eyes again)

Trey clover

He's a gentleman like Riddle but more calm

will probably bow while apologizing before leaving and closing the door.

Will also slide in a sly compliment while at it

"That color contrasts nicely with your skin~"

Ace Trappola

The most unapologetic out of al of Heartslabyul.

Would blush a little at first but then make a sly smirk

"That's a nice choice of underwear there"

You have to throw a ton of stuff to get him out.

Leona Kingscholar

looks completely unfazed (is unfazed)

smirks and leans against the doorway

"don't stop please continue herbivore"

Trust me when I say this, he's not leaving until your done. (unless you want to wait for him to get tiered and fall asleep)

Ruggie Bucchi

It's like he doesn't even notice

Speaks to you like normal while scavenging the room for anything to take.

"Ruggie!" you shout. "What!?" he replies back looking at you.

"GET OUT!"

Once you kick him out and slam the door, Ruggie just stands there confused.

He genuinely doesn't see the problem.

Jack Howl

Scoffs in his fist while tilting his his head downwards and closing his eyes

A slight blush is dusting his cheeks

"I'm really sorry but perhaps lock the door next time"

With that he leaves and shuts the door calmly

Once the door is fully closed he goes to breath again (Yes he was holding his breath the whole time)

Jade Leech

Just gives the Jade stare

Will probably give an apology (a jade one) and bow

The he just walks out like that

P.S. he doesn't do this until you notice him (only god knows how long he stood there silently)

Azul Ashengrotto

Turns red as Riddle when angry

He gives that shocked faced when he clenches his teeth in game, before regaining composure and pushing up his glasses while closing his eyes.

"M-my sincerest apologies. f-for both our best interest I say we make a deal to never speak of this."

With that he leaves, speed walks away

He's definitely writing up a contract now.

Floyd Leech

Floyd just barges in, the door swinging wide open

Not much of a reaction just Floyd face

"Ayeee~ Shrimpy doesn't like clothes either~ I can strip too hehe~"

STOP HIM NOW!!!!

Kalim Al-Asim

Yuu have a 6th sense for the baby

When Yuu hear the click of the door knob turning, yuu dive into the bed and use the sheets to cover up.

Kalim walks in to see Yuu wrapped in sheets.

Kalim laughed with a big smile "HAHA!! You look like a burrito! Can I join looks comfy!"

Yuu scream "NO!" and Kalim looks shocked before giving a rejected puppy face.

Yuu explain to him to give you 10 minuets and then he can come back for a cuddle session.

He gives a big smile and a halo of light seems to form behind him.

He leaves closing the door with new motivation

Jamil Viper

He's a bully

He will stand there and make you uncomfortable, maybe even degrade you a bit

He'd just stand at the door frame arms crossed and straight faced.

Yuu see and feel his glare and it's kind of just a very awkward stare off until you ask him to leave, to which he responds---

"Why? It's not like I'm seeing much anyway" with a smirk.

A visible vein is seen at your forehead as yell at him to get out as you throw the hardest items close to you at him.

Vil Schoenheit

emotional damage x1000

This man will degrade the ugly out of Yuu

Yuu are now in the corner of the room with mushrooms growing on your head

Pure depression is seeping from you

Vil just walks in and starts going through the closet looking for something you could wear. All while still degrading the living daylights out of yuu of course.

Rook Hunt

Sooooo... He's not at the door frame

He is outside watching through the window as an arrow shoots past your head.

Startled you go to the arrow and there is a not attached that reads:

"Magnifique, Perfect 100 points! What a beautiful body!"

The note is signed with R.H. and a heart.

Yuu go red and equally speechless.

Epel Felmir

Accent slip :WAHHH!!! W-haduya...Ahh!"

Red as a cherry and slams the door, crouches down outside

"I'mma Sorry I didn't mean too!!!"

He is apologizing over and over again in his head.

Idia Shroud

Full metal panic

"b-b-bu ss-sor -I- S---o--rr--Icc"

Idia.exe has stopped working.

He stutter walks out backwards (Still stuttering)

And yuu slowly close the door on him.

Even when you finish changing and open the door, idia is still there a stuttering mess.

Once he notices Yuu standing in front of him he immediately turns tail and runs.

Malleus Draconia (Yuu are like in your underwear)

This is my Chance!

"Um Mal can you please um leave"

"But why? I love to see more of my child of man"

"Um it's a bit...awkward"

Mal starts to take of his top clothing as Yuu blush profusely "Don't take off anymore!!" Yuu shout

"No issue now let us just lay in bed with this"

You couldn't say no so you end up cuddling with Mal under the blanket, a blush dusting your face and heart beating.

Malleus is content for now.

Lilia Vanrouge

He appears from the ceiling

"Need any help?" he asks with a smile.

Yuu yell and fall to the ground startled and Lilia laughs before continuing "hmm~ well that was a reaction"

"How long have you been there?!" Yuu question

"...*fake contemplates* Don't know!" "GET OUT!" "Oh yes my apologies, I guess you would prefer privacy"

He walks out but as he does he says "Oh and nice underwear!" Before closing the door with a smile.

Silver

Is actually just sleep walking

He isn't awake or aware at first, but your yelp woke him up and he sees yuu.

It takes him like 10 solid seconds to process what's occurring and his ears go slightly red as he looks away

"I-i apologize I didn't mean to" He didn't mean to stutter as he bows and walks out of the room closing the door behind him.

He goes to Lilia for advice bad idea

Sebek Zigvolt

Bursts in about to yell something but stops in his tracks

His face goes red and he is bug eyed

"W-w-ha ARE YOU CRAZY!!!?"

He turns around facing the exit for a long time as he scolds you for being careless.

[sweetteainthesummerx]

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (15)

The penultimate chapter!!

series masterlist

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

aubreyyang posted on their story

caption: back to reality

Ollie pushed her luggage to the side, his eyes tired behind a pair of blue light glasses. His hair was smushed a little from the drive over to the airport, but he looked handsome as always. 

They were back in Italy, Ollie starting training again before the Canadian Grand Prix. Aubrey had to go back to New York, catch up on classes and deal with auditions and bookings. 

“Don’t fall in love with some Manhattan fashion guy,” Ollie pouted, tugging her into him, cradling her head and waist. 

“Don’t be dramatic, babe. I’ll see you in like, a week and a half.” She sniffed into his hoodie, but she felt her heart carving itself out of her chest and wedging into his already. Nearly two weeks with Ollie, all tanned, shirtless and happy…now back to the sweltering, bustling city without him. She wanted to cry a little. This sweet boy made her life so much more, so abundant. It felt like time, almost. She knew that he loved her, and she most definitely loved him. But he knew her and he wanted to take it slow so she wouldn’t be spooked. She adored him for it. 

He must’ve felt her tense because he pressed quiet kisses into the crown of her head, smoothing her hair away from her face. 

“I can’t wait to win in your home country. Promise you’ll text me when you land?” He pressed one more kiss into her temple tenderly. 

“Okay, I will.” 

With one more squeeze, she rubbed her eyes and entered into the terminal, waving once more at Ollie. 

aubreyyang posted

aubreyyang SO AMERICAN MUSIC VIDEO! It was an honour to direct my first music video for my girl @oliviarodrigo ❤️

Even though I hate being mistaken as american, this song was too good to pass up 💋

GO WATCH NOW 🇺🇸🦅🗽

liked by oliviarodrigo, olliebearman, and 111,092 others

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user1 OH SO SHES SERVING SERVING HUH

livieelove OMG THE ULTIMATE COLLAB

aubreyyangcontent liv and Aubrey (successful gorgeous asian queens) 🤝 their golden retriever tall white bfs

-- olliebearmansgf CRYING BECAUSE THIS IS THEIR SHARED EXPERIENCEE

logansargeant we welcome you to America anytime 🤠

-- aubreyollie4eva YO STAY IN UR OWN LANE BRUV

olliebearman real ones know the Vancouver lore :)

-- aubreyyang downtown day when?

-- user2 MOM AND DAD PLSSS

MESSAGES

ollie

just watched the music video

it was so good

aubrey

well what can I say I relate to it hehe

ollie

really?

aubrey

well duh

I mean ig im from canada but ur from england

ollie

oh wow

aubrey

idk I kinda like having a muse for directing

it feels more personal

sorry did I make it weird?

ollie

no of course not love

come to the next gp with me

aubrey

ollie what

ollie

no im serious im having my Aubrey withdrawals

I really want you here

aubrey

okay

okay ill come to you

aubberieyaang posted

aubberieyaang highkey in love with my best friend 🤪

liked by celine_diorr and 18 other

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alexandrasaintmleux I KNEW IT THATS WHY HES ALL RED AND GIGGLY

-- aubberieyaang wait really hehe

leosdad please just tell him this hurts my soul

-- aubberieyaang SOON I PROMISE

celine_diorr fine hes better than any of ur exes and he has my blessing

-- aubberieyaang TY BAE

chuck_bushes Ay he better watch his hands

-- aubberieyaang love u my honorary big bro

f1wagupdates posted

slide one: ollie and aubrey walking through the paddock; he is wearing a Ferrari polo and a backwards hat with jeans and sneakers, she is wearing a vintage Ferrari tank top with her dark hair loose around her shoulders. Her mini skirt is a light denim, and she has a pair of low doc Martens and scrunch white socks. A pair of sunglasses (as seen in her previous posts) pushes her hair back from her face. The picture is slightly blurry, but she is walking in front as he follows suit behind her, one hand on the small of her back. A black Prada handbag is in his hand, presumably Aubrey's.

slide two: a video of David Bearman and Aubrey Yang in the Ferrari garage as they stand side by side, both wearing red earmuffs as they stare enraptured at the screen. Someone moving boxes passes by, and David moves Aubrey behind him in a very fatherly way. She says something that makes him laugh, and he pats her shoulder as they focus back on the screen. The tags on the live TV shows David Bearman, Oliver Bearman's dad, and Aubrey Yang, Oliver Bearman's Partner.

f1wagupdate Aubrey Yang is once again seen in the paddock, this time in Montreal. She is seen with Ollie Bearman's father and Ollie before and during the race.

liked by ollieheartsaubrey, aubrey1fan and 88,092 others

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aubreyyangfanpage THE PRINCE AND PRINCESS OF FERRARI RAHHH the first pic is so cute

-- user1 THEYRE BOTH WEARING MERCH AND LOOKING GORGEOUS HOLY MOLY

user2 aww her and his dad are so sweet (when is it my turn PLEASE)

-- f1funnies00 shes so daughter in law coded I SWEAR THEYRE TOGETHER EVEN THE TAG HARD LAUNCHED THEM BROO

premababies hes holding her bag (gonna sleep on the highway tonight hehe)

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls @destinyg237 @ilivbullyingjeongin @eiaaasamantha @1uvsptnik @yla-aira @motorsportloverf1 @gigigreens

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[kevinsdsy]

THE TROJANS SOCIAL MEDIA AU HEADCANONS pt. 1

laila dermott

laila dermott is muslim!! i've had this headcanon since i read the king's men for the first time in 2019 hehe and now is my time to push it.

nabil & laila are besties. they're both muslim and both in same-sex relationships which leads to them having an understanding of each other like no one else on the team could have with them.

ntm laila fr was his standing pillar when he was figuring out his sexuality

nabil mahmoud

nabil is gay!! which is something he really had to deal with and accept due to him being muslim too (bc what am i without the religious trauma due to sexuality lore)

nabil and tony are dating each other in the socmed au!! even without the au i would like to believe and headcanon there's something happening there :))

i've written a bit more about them in another headcanon post tho.

antonio "tony" jones

tony is what like a year or two older than the rest? he's an assistant and i'm not sure how old they're supposed to be in the book tbh so i would like to think it's possible or he's an intern (i love him being an intern either way tho so i'm very much leaning into that one)

jeremy knox

JEREMY KNOX USED TO PLAY FOOTBALL (soccer), but due to him playing so aggressively and due to him always being guilty of too many fouls he switched to exy :))

cody winter

cody doesn't know what sleep is and they don't care to find out. they're living on like 2 to 4 hours a sleep a night and surprisingly enough it works for them too.

cody is also SUPER competitive which is why they have managed to be part of the captain gc. their competiteviness has led to them pushing the backliners as much as cody can and the backliners actually listen to them too.

shawn anderson

oh shawn. shawn shawn shawn.

you were supposed to be no one. a random guy on the team.

you exist to me now. i feel like i could make a whole post about just him atp.

shawn was supposed to be comedic relief for the posts i felt were too out of character for the rest of the team LMAOO, but now he actually has a personality (to me)

shawn works a part time shop at a café. even though he's surrounded by coffee at all times and drinks so much of it he's the sleepiest guy to ever exist.

like that man gets about 8 hours a sleep every day and still takes nap, but still ends up with bags under his eyes.

he's always tired for some reason and everyone is so used to it atp. like he will ALWAYS sleep on the bus/airplane, no matter how long the drive/flight is.

but when he's finally awake he's so hyper. he says the silliest things. repeats the same phrases over and over again and has about zero filter.

most of the time the zero filter has to do with the fact he speaks before he thinks. it even catches himself off guard sometimes.

i feel like this is too long and we haven't even gotten into jean and shawn dynamic so i'm just gonna cut it off here and they’ll get another part i think

derrick allen

bro we don't even know who derrick is, but apparently he's someone to me now too.

this man has crazy attachment issues, but is also the biggest simp for shawn too.

he likes going around kissing shawn and making out with shawn, but whenever shawn mentions something serious derrick acts like it's just a joke. which i guess is easy to do, because shawn is always treating everything as a joke anyways. except he's really not trying to when it comes to derrick.

jean falls victim to shawn ranting and crying about derrick. so jean respectfully ignores derrick til he gets his shit together.

and i just realised i have SO MUCH to say about derrick and shawn too so let me cut myself off.

derek thompson

same as shawn and derrick. derek is supposed to be a no one, but here i am and suddenly derek is being perceived by me too

SOOO derek was supposed to be like the third party with derrick and shawn. it was supposed to be the three of them flirting and making out and being little shits but then y'all were asking about derrick & shawn and i decided yk what let's do it. then later the short oneshot was written by oomf and derek got mentioned as the one shawn is in love with and i was like oh... i fucked up the dynamic. but in another universe it would've been the three of them ig

ANYWAYYSS derek takes medication. i haven't really decided on what kind of medications, but while thinking about him i always imagined either depression or adhd or both idk

and i have so many more headcanons for the au, but this is too long so i´ll post part 2 another time :))

[ashenquill]

It's time to info dump about my character headcanons some moreeeee I love spreading my agenda on the internet hehe

Mumbo Killsalot Jumbo is one of those ambiguous types where you can't tell if he's actually a hybrid or not? Like, there's something a little bit... off about him. Something distinctly non-human. Also he's a really weird guy, which makes even less sense, because at this point hybrids are like 60% of the population, and nobody bats(ha) an eye at them anymore, so it's not like he needs to hide it. But he is, in fact, secretly a vampire. Or at least, he's 1/16th vampire or something like that. He just remembers this one guy named Vlad who he refused to believe was actually his great-grandpa because he's literally, like thirty? How on Earth would he have been old enough to father children with children with children? Mumbo started believing it when he saw him again ten years later and he hadn't changed in the slightest. Suddenly, the strict nobody open the curtains rule made a lot more sense.

Now, even though Mumbo is technically a vampire, his family is primarily human. The only reason they even have vampiric origins is because Great-grandpa Vlad got turned at the ripe age of 27, and wasn't about to abandon his wife over his new and very serious garlic allergy. She thought it was all one big prank he was pulling to get out of working on the farm, but after twenty years and seven kids, she realized that being a stay-at-home dad was definitely not taking the toll it should.

Mumbo and his immediate family have retained a few of the traits they inherited from Vlad, but it manifests in very mild coincidences. His mom is allergic to garlic and his dad has a strange Scarland-Princess-like affiliation with bats. Mumbo, meanwhile, really got the short end of the stick, as he can't expose his shoulders to sunlight without them miraculously burning (he's gone through more bottles of M-77 brand sunscreen than he'd care to quantify). Not to mention the insomnia! He'd be lucky to get two hours of sleep on an average night, and the fact that the only affect it really has on him is making his eyes look baggy is truly an injustice. Wasn't insomnia supposed to cause other serious health problems? How could he even complain about it if he wasn't constantly overtired? Rather inconvenient, that.

Don't ask my why I have so much lore for this guy when I don't even write him that often. It's just the Mumbo Jumbo allure, I guess

Here's some other fun facts:

Smells like iron/copper (metallic)

Book smart - special knowledge of redstone

Likes: cloud gazing, embroidery, old westerns/duels/guns, rubix cubes (only to look at though, bro can’t solve them for shit)

Dislikes: designing floor plans, social interaction, eye contact

Passions: philanthropy, travel

Habits/other details: Super fidgety like holy shit he never stops moving, picks at his nails and has lots of scabs & hangnails bc of it, he is littered with cuts and bruises of unknown origin, also usually covered in redstone & he mistakes his blood for it half the time, can’t tell if he’s ADHD, ASD, or both (deffo both)

Reactive to their environment - does not like to be around danger most of the time, would rather watch from afar, would rather not even watch tyvm, too bad he’s always a victim, #easytarget, your honor he’s just a wet cat

Special, plot-relevant skills: good w/ redstone, rich asf

Insomniac, also has RLS, always tired but it’s not very obvious, mostly just has dumb blonde moments, his intelligence would be 10% more if he actually slept, what the heck Vlad why'd you have to get bit by a vampire

[leesmustardgarden]

Cooking with a Special Puppet Headcanons

P x (gn) Reader

Warnings/Tags: General game spoilers ofc, Sophia exhibiting the symptoms of an ED but there is a genuine canon Lore Reason I do not want to spoil sorry, P is a silly lil guy (affectionate), Gemini is a silly little guy (derogatory)

A/N: I miss taking culinary classes, so I coped by making this!! This was also an excuse to test out my new silly borders hehe

The first time you bring P into the kitchen, he accidentally makes a huge mess and feels so bad he starts avoiding the kitchen. If he needed you while you were in there, he’ll wait by the door until you come out even if it takes hours

It takes a lot of encouragement and patience to finally get him back in the kitchen, and even then he’s so careful of everything around him. It doesn’t always go well, and most of the time there’s still some accident that leaves a giant mess to clean up

It’s like watching a dragon in a china shop— every so often he catches on something and oh! Down comes all the pots and pans.

Gemini finds it hilarious but while he loves messing with P, he is also the one to tell him not to push it if he’s so stressed out and to take it little by little

P so sweet, he’s so caring and careful and yeah ok he can be mischievous but not in the sense that he’d purposefully make trouble for the people he cares for

In fact he tries to help you out by bringing around food for all the residents in the Hotel so you don’t have to do everything

Polendina takes Antonia’s meals to her and Pulcinella forces Venigni to actually eat when he forgets to

It’s very funny to watch, because as stubborn and eccentric as Venigni can be he cannot say no to his no. 1 bestie

Eugenié is silly and has to be reminded to eat (she gets too absorbed into her work), and Sophia usually refuses food. It’s worrying, but she says it’s alright and vaguely explains that she doesn’t need food 🤨🤨🤨🤨🤨

As the days go by and as he becomes more human and is able to control his strength better, he finally musters up the courage to ask you to teach him how to cook (which Gemini insists on being present for)

The first few times he is so shaky and afraid of everything in case it breaks, but after a few days he’ll start getting comfortable with the utensils and tools

Once he’s comfortable enough, he starts acting out small mischiefs and well

It’s hard to scold him when he’s finally overcome his fear of making a mess

“And then you carefully— No—“ The egg splats against the counter in seconds, spraying up to his freckled face. He pulls his hand up slowly, and with the most amused deadpan you’ve seen on him, turns his yolk-soaked palm to you. You don’t even fight the frown that settles on your face as Gemini coughs to hide a laugh.

“Nice one! I think—“ cough “— you’re getting better,” He says. You glare at him where P’s put him on the counter, and he laughs harder. You would strangle him, but that would probably just encourage the prick.

P looks innocently at you; his expression unchanging but a tilt in his shoulder gives away the fact that he knows what he’s doing. You’re sure that if he could laugh, he would be giggling in all his freckled cuteness. It softens your frown into fond exasperation as you reach a hand to wipe the egg off his face. He takes his clean legion hand and gently places it atop yours, pushing his cheek flush against your palm.

“Gemini is such a bad influence on you,” You say with a no heat in your voice. P looks up at you though his lashes, and you can almost see the mischief printed on his face.

“How am I a bad influence?” Gemini says indignantly, having the gall to sound offended.

You dip your hand into the bag of flour nearby, scoop out a handful, and throw it at him. He sputters and yelps, starting to complain. You’re too distracted by Gemini to notice the curious way P’s looking over at you and the bag of flour. He quietly slips his legion hand behind you when you move forward as your argument with Gemini progresses.

“That was actually so rude,“ Gemini says.

“Oh like you aren’t the one enabling him all the time.“

“When have I ever?”

“I don’t know— the art shop, for one?”

“That was such a long time ago!”

“Two days—!”

Flour hits your cheek, dusting your face in white. Gemini gets a second to laugh at you, before flour also hits him and his lamp topples over right into spilled egg. A bit away from you both, P is standing with his hands behind his back and the bag of flour peeking out from behind him. His face is twitching like it’s trying to smile, and you feel your heart melt at the sight. By the end of the day, you’re just glad the kitchen’s still standing.