#hes so funny. for just staying on the floor

[martybaker]

There was only one couch

Tfw you cannot find the jayvik fic you crave so you write it yourself 🙃

I also gotta preface this with - Does it even make sense that they would have microwaves in Piltover? Do they have electricity? My quick search didn’t yield any decisive results so if you know pls lmk. Also, I don’t really know if Jayce is making any sense talking about them but in my defense, he is sleep deprived (and I am dumb and didn’t put any real research into this, sorryy)

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They’ve been stuck at this problem for hours, any potential paths they managed to come up with immediately shattering after but a couple pokes of logic aimed to test the solidity of their foundations. Like bubbles popped by a child’s finger. Like heated corn kernels. Like dreams of making a difference-

Viktor’s too tired to think in metaphors.

He drops the pencil and swivels in his chair, facing Jayce who’s already draped across their shabby sofa, long legs sticking out from one end, head inclined on the armrest on the side closer to Viktor.

“What if we…err, try to like, microwave it, but I don’t mean like an actual microwave,” he waves his hands in the air as he talks, as if that would help illustrate his train of thought, “but like a device, a - an oven, that could create vibrations and …uhhh, direct the particles? Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say.”

Viktor chuckles. He doesn’t know why he does, it’s not even particularly funny, the exhaustion must have erased any common sense of his that was left. Yet it’s…comforting to see that same exhaustion mirrored in Jayce. The same dark circles, the same bone deep tiredness weighing him down, the same look of frustration after they’ve been hitting dead ends and running in circles. It’s a shared exhaustion, just like the hard work is shared. Probably should have called it a night hours ago. They both direly need the rest.

“Ovens and microwaves? That would be your hunger speaking, I’m afraid,” Viktor says, reaching for his cane, grinding his teeth to gather the energy to push himself up onto his feet.

“Nah, m’not hungry,” Jayce mumbles. “We had those sandwiches for lunch. Or was it dinner? What time is it even?”

“Too late by all accounts,” Viktor says, taking the few steps towards the couch. He looks at Jayce, who seems glued to the couch and likely is planning to spend the night there. Viktor looks towards the door, but hesitates. The idea of the track across campus to his lodgings really doesn’t sound appealing.

It’s not even that far, the university tried to accommodate Viktor’s needs as best as they could and gave him a room on the ground floor, plus the building is the closest housing to the Engineering department’s laboratories. And yet, today it feels miles away. Damn his leg, damn all the stairs, and damn his hubris for yet again pushing his body beyond its limits, knowing fully well it will backfire ten folds and render him even more useless in the morning.

Jayce notices his hesitation, damn his partner’s bright mind too. He can read Viktor too well, he guesses the reason for his histation despite Viktor’s lack of complaining.

“Oh, do you wanna sleep here? I’ll head home, no problem,” he suggests way too readily, already hoisting himself up onto his elbows.

Viktor tsks and pushes against Jayce’s chest, pushing him back down into the couch.

“Stay,” he hisses. Jayce lives off campus, it would take him much longer to get home. Viktor’s not about to kick him out. And he doesn’t care for compassion either.

Jayce knows this, yet the man cannot help but be kind and caring, and though it irritates Viktor when it's aimed at him, it is also a quality of Jayce’s that he admires. He’s kind to everyone. Meets everyone halfway. Though at times they push too far, and Jayce lets them. Too kind for his own good.

Viktor shakes his head, trying to clean it, the stacked up piles of thoughts seem to have all spilled inside his brain and are rattling around. Rest. He needs to rest.

He looks at Jayce, who is still lying down on the couch, hands raised as if in surrender, big doe eyes staring at Viktor. Was Viktor too cross with him just now? He’s unable to determine. He pats Jayce’s knee in an attempt to smooth over his own prickly temperament.

“I just…I need to take a moment. Before I head out,” he tries. He hopes Jayce won’t insist. He is too tired to come up with reasonable arguments. He doesn’t wanna fight.

But Jayce doesn’t fight, he nods, then he bites his lip and opens his arms.

Hmm.

Viktor considers.

The couch is clearly too small for one grown man, let alone two.

Still it would be more comfortable than the chair.

And Viktor’s not averse to touch. Despite perhaps coming off as such. To everyone, except for Jayce.

It is true that he doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, especially unexpectedly. But he is human and just like for anyone else, there are moments when he would welcome touch. Moments when he finds it comforting. And Jayce is a very tactile person. He didn’t hold back from putting a hand on Viktor’s shoulder the very first day they met, and he hasn’t stopped since. There was a moment near the beginning of their partnership when someone pointed out Viktor’s (alleged) aversion to touch and Jayce panicked, apologizing profusely for making him uncomfortable, and it took days for Viktor to convince him he really didn’t mind. Because that was the truth, Viktor didn’t mind. Not when it was Jayce.

Of course cuddling on the couch was an entirely different matter.

They’ve never done that before, however, Viktor wasn’t a stranger to the comfort of a warm body next to his either.

From cuddling with his parents for warmth as a kid in one too small bed, to seeking the pleasures of a lover to relieve stress, the warmth of a body next to his was undoubtedly beneficial.

And he and Jayce are friends. It wouldn’t be a big deal.

And so Viktor slowly drops his cane to the floor and lowers one of his knees to the couch, trying to figure out how to arrange himself next to Jayce.

Jayce tries to help but it takes some maneuvering, what with Viktor’s leg and their sleep deprived brains, there are a couple of winces and pointy elbows and just way too many limbs, an “Oof” from Jayce when he earns a knee to his stomach, but eventually Viktor finds himself situated with his back against the back of the couch, his head on Jayce’s chest, right leg on top.

It’s…it’s warm.

It’s nice.

It’s not a big deal.

“Okay?” Jayce checks.

Viktor hums. He can hear Jayce’s heartbeat, feel his breath on his forehead. Smell the musk, the odor of an unshowered body, but he has no right to complain, they both haven’t showered for however many hours or days they’ve been locked in here.

Jayce’s heartbeat and breathing slows, but Viktor cannot slow his racing thoughts. He can feel every point of contact where their bodies are touching. He can feel Jayce’s muscular chest moving under his hand. Jayce’s right hand briefly pets Viktor’s hair before it settles on top of his shoulders. Viktor fights against the urge to burrow closer, to inhale Jayce’s smell, to tug his hand back into Viktor’s hair.

Stupid sleep deprived brain. Viktor could have figured such close proximity to a warm body would reduce him to animal instincts. He can only be glad he’s way too sleepy for his nether parts to react as well.

Jayce feels his restlessness. How could he not, pressed so close.

“Viktor,” he whispers, warm breath tickling Viktor’s forehead and despite himself Viktor exhales and melts against that strong chest even more. “You can rest, V, I’ll wake you in a couple of minutes and walk you home.”

My ass you will, Viktor thinks, we’re both gonna fall asleep here, your right side will be completely numb and my back will be killing me tomorrow. He’ll barely be able to stand. But he’s too tired and too comfortable to say any of that now. It’s a Tomorrow Viktor’s problem anyways. This Viktor burrow’s closer against Jayce’s chest, letting all his worries and all the problems fade, falling into the sweet embrace of sleep.

[dimlylittorch]

this started off as a hurt comfort fic but i changed my mind and it turned into.. manipulation. i am unwell. THIS SHIT IS LIKE 3K+ WORDS BE WARNED.

My Masterlist🌱

Silco x transmasc!reader

small synopsis: he finds the son of an aristocrat in Piltover to be his pawn

He’ll never forget that day. That day on the bridge, when his entire world changed. Ever since then, there’s been a pit inside of his stomach. It churns and twists whenever something that is his is in danger. When something of his is out of his reach.

Grief is a funny thing. It can invoke every kind of human emotion. Anger, sadness.. it tears a person up inside. Leaving scars that will never heal completely. Yes, they fade with time. But sometimes they fester. And wounds get reopened- bringing every single old emotion back in one fell swoop.

Meeting you changed everything he thought he knew. When he thought he’d finally found himself on stable ground, you pulled the world out from under his feet. His heart had grown cold, and he found himself incapable of.. feeling. Feeling anything other than rage, or hate. He had no pity for the weak. Not anymore.

Until he found you.

The day he met you was the day he felt like maybe- just maybe, he could breathe again. A pretty little thing you were. Coming from a good family in Piltover, you were clean and well taken care of, nothing like the people in the Undercity. You were innocent, and completely unaware of the dangers that lied in the Undercity among people like him.

Having packed a small bag, fully intending on exploring some more of the world that your parents kept you so sheltered from, you managed to find yourself near an entrance into the Undercity without even knowing it. Walking through damp alleyways and past the docks, slipping on the occasional patch of worn wood. You had no idea how dangerous it was for you to be out there in the dark.. let alone by yourself.

You found yourself stumbling across run down buildings with holes in the ceiling and ruined infrastructures. One warehouse in particular caught your eye as it seemed relatively stable. You peeked inside through the front entrance before opening the door, it creaking loudly. You take a few steps inside, glancing around at how different it was from the buildings you’d seen your whole life.

“Wow” you whisper to yourself when you look up, a clear view of the moon through one of the holes in the ceiling. Of course, you had no idea Silco was using this place for his own purposes. And you had no idea he was near. Walking through the main area of the building, a small smile creeps along your lips. “Hello!” You call out, hearing a faint echo back, much to your amusement. Silco stood in a dark doorway with his eyes on you, his eye brow quirked with interest. When was the last time he’d heard someone truly laugh?

As you make your way up the large staircase, Silco moves to quietly follow you, curious of your movements. He’d never seen you before.. and you certainly didn’t look like you were from the Undercity. Tripping over debris every now and then, Silco can see the lightness in your movements. You weren’t wary or cautious. Simply exploring like a child would. Once you reach the next floor you see the remnants of old furniture, crouching down and looking at what he would consider trash. He watches with curiosity as you pick up a small item you see on the floor, smiling to yourself as you slip it into your pocket.

Making your way through the run down building, you find a rickety staircase that leads onto the roof. Stepping onto it hesitantly, Silco stays back and watches as you flinch when it creaks and shakes under your weight. Standing still for a moment, you take a breath before heading up the stairs and reaching the roof. Silco hums with amusement as he watches your actions, deciding he might as well follow. He found you intriguing after all. As you settle onto the roof, setting your bag down he slowly follows. But when he hears a sharp creak in the metal, a gasp slips past his lips as he reaches for the roof, the rusted metal staircase starting to collapse.

He saw his life before his eyes- as much as he hated to admit it. The thought of dying to a staircase was embarrassing for a man like him. As he clawed at the wood of the roof, he suddenly felt two hands on one of his arms, and he looked up to see you. The soft face looking back at him, faced riddled with worry.

“Shit- hold on” you say quickly as you tug on him as hard as you can, moving onto your stomach so you can hook your arms under his shoulders, getting a better grip. With a gasp from your lips, he holds onto you out of instinct as he kicks his foot up, using it to push the both of you onto the roof.

When he manages to get onto the roof completely, you roll onto your back, pulling him with you. The both of you breathing heavily, he finds himself in your arms, still holding him. “You okay?” You say softly against his ear before you gently remove your arms from his upper body, leaving him to sit straddled over your hips.

He puts a hand next to your head, using it to sit himself up with a shaky breath as he looks down at you, faces only inches apart. “Fine.” He mutters before he sits himself up further, resting against your hips and thighs. You sit yourself up slightly, hands resting by his knees as you gaze up at him.

“You sure?” You ask softly as your eyes trail over his face, not once flinching from his scars. He looks back at you with a hesitant glance, not used to anyone caring about his wellbeing.

He huffs and moves off of your lap, sitting next to you with a sigh. “I’ve faced worse” he murmurs as he slicks his hair back with his hand.

Sitting up fully, you gently scoot over to be closer to him. You glance over his form, taking in his presence. Fairly tall and slender, but still.. solid. “I’m glad you’re okay.” You say faintly, much to his surprise. He looks over at you, harsh eyes trailing over your form.

“You’re an odd little thing.” He mutters as he looks you over. “And just what were you coming up here for? The scenic view?” He scoffs.

“I’ve just.. never been up here before” you say softly.

“And you got curious?” He muses as he runs his fingers through his hair before standing up and adjusting his not ruffled clothing.

“Mhm” you hum as you stand up with him. Before you can say anything else, a rotted piece of wood breaks under your feet, making you trip forward, grabbing onto him for balance. The force knocks him backwards, making him land on his arse with a huff, you landing on your stomach in his hold. “Christ-“ you gasp when you hit his form and the wood. Gathering yourself for a moment, you look up and meet his sharp gaze. “We have to stop falling into each other like this” you huff with a faint laugh as you sit up slightly, but still leaning over him as you catch your breath.

He sighs when he looks down at you, seeing just how.. soft you truly are. Gentle eyes and a kind smile.. nothing like what he was used to. As you look up at him, your smile widens slightly.

“Hm.. do you have heterochromia? Where your eyes are two different colors?” You question innocently as you sit back and look at him. “They’re really pretty”

He freezes when he hears your words. Pretty. Pretty? Has he ever been called pretty? No. That’s something he would remember. If half of his face wasn’t so scarred it would probably be apparent that he was blushing slightly. Glancing over your facial features, he can’t help but find you amusing. You clearly didn’t know who he was.

“Something like that.” He replies quietly before looking downcast. If only he didn’t have a massive story behind his face. Maybe things would be easier.

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a small brown paper bag and offer it to him. “Are you from the Undercity?” You ask softly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in Piltover before..”

His eyebrows raise when you offer him the small paper bag, but he begrudgingly takes it, opening it and finding.. cookies. Homemade cookies. He pauses as he thinks about what he’s doing. Sitting on a roof with some topsider idiot trying to make conversation. He should be working towards his dream of Zaun right now. But.. a part of him wanted to stay put. He hated to admit it. But he’s missed being treated like a normal person. And not like a crime lord. Grabbing a cookie with a sigh, he sets the bag down and looks over at you. “Yes, I am. It’s clear you’re from topside..” he mutters as he takes a bite of the cookie.

A small smile quirks at the corner of your lips when you see him take the cookie and take a bite. “My mom made those” you say softly. “Do you like them?”

He huffs a little when he hears you mention your mother. God, how old were you? You seemed in your twenties, maybe.. but there was an innocence about you. The world hadn’t ruined you. Not yet. “It’s.. fine.” He says quietly as he eats the rest of the cookie. He had to stay stoic like always- but in reality he couldn’t remember the last time he had something sweet. It was.. nice. Almost too nice. Sweet enough to give him a toothache. “My compliments to your mother.” He adds faintly.

Your smile widens a bit and you chuckle. “I’ll tell her you said that.” You look at the bag for a moment before gently pushing it towards him. “If you have any friends you want to share with- you can have them. I can always get more.”

God, how innocent could you get? Friends? Him having friends? He almost laughed at the thought. “You truly have no idea who I am?” He questions as he looks up, his gaze meeting your own.

When his eyes meet your own, your heart stutters a little. His gaze was sharp and piercing, nothing like you were used to. In Piltover it was all ‘make sure you maintain polite eye contact- staring is rude,’ but he clearly didn’t follow any stupid rules like you had to. “I’m sorry” you murmur, looking downcast before you look back up at him and offer him your hand. “I suppose I should’ve asked sooner. I’ve been terribly rude.” You could practically feel your mothers words flowing through you- ever forced polite response you ever had to give, rushing back on autopilot. “I’m Y/N, of house L/N.”

His eyebrow quirks when he sees how.. formal you are. He stares at your hand for a moment before sighing and shaking your hand. “Silco.” He says simply before retracting his hand. “And just what does your family do? You seem awfully.. well trained.”

You could help but snort at his words. Well trained? That was a new one. But in reality, it made sense. To society you were nothing more than a dog that knows how to behave. “We’re in the mining industry.” You say with a small smile. “My father manufactures a lot of the machinery that the miners use.”

He hums when he hears your words. Mining? He knew quite a lot about that. Having worked in the mines in his youth.. it’s not something he would go back to willingly. “I take it you don’t work in the mines.” He muses.

“Afraid not.” You hum. “I was attending University.. but I needed a break.”

He scoffs at that, rolling his eyes before he moves to stand up. “There is no time for breaks if you truly wish to accomplish something.” He chastises. “Surely your father has taught you that.”

“I’ve learned not to push myself.” You murmur as you lay back on the roof, gazing up at the sky.

“We aren’t alive just to lie around and relax.” He scoffs as he moves to crouch next to you, his knee by your head as he looks down at you. “You think I got to where I am by taking breaks? By not pushing myself?”

A few moments of silence pass before you sit up, tilting your head up so that your eyes meet his. “And yet.. I don’t even know who you are.”

Before you know it, you feel his hand on your chin, squeezing your cheeks slightly as he lifts your face closer to his. “I’ll have you know, boy.” He whispers dangerously. “I control the Undercity. And everyone in it. So choose your next words wisely.” He seethes as he glares down at you.

A few more beats of quiet- the only noise the occasional creaking of the roof. He watches as your eyes soften, face becoming more relaxed in his hold. Anyone else would’ve been terrified.. but here you were. Gazing up at him.

“Would you like to come home for dinner tomorrow night?”

His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Pardon?” He questions as he lets go of your face, but not pulling away.

You reach up to rub your chin a little, looking up at him. “Well.. you’re in charge of the Undercity.” You say softly. “And tomorrow we’re hosting a dinner party with other important people.” You murmur. “Would you want to come?”

He stares down at you for a few moments, the cogs turning in his brain. What was this boy’s agenda? He didn’t even know him. But.. the thought appealed to him. Slightly. Being invited to a dinner party in Piltover that is filled with rich bureaucrats, your parents certainly not approving of your choice for a plus one.

“What.. a kind offer.” He says with a small smirk as he stands up, offering his hand to you. Befriending a young aristocrat of Piltover. That could be very helpful with his plans. A little pawn all to himself. “I think it would be rude of me to reject it.”

Reaching up to take his hand, he helps you up as you look at him with a smile on your lips. “I promise it’ll be worth it.” You say sweetly.

He chuckles, slipping his hands into his pockets and looking off into the distance over Piltover. “Oh, I’m sure it will be.”

Your parents were certainly happy when you told them you’d be bringing a plus one. While you were sociable, you haven’t exactly been considered for any marriage unions yet with other young aristocrats- much to your parents dismay. You weren’t exactly the typical marriage candidate anyways. You didn’t have much of an interest in business or politics. You’d much rather do things you enjoy.

While you may seem innocent, you weren’t truly that ditsy. You knew your parents wouldn’t like the person you brought to dinner, but a part of you wanted the discourse. To show your parents you could be doing much worse than you are. But you have been well behaved your whole life, and you’re not doing drugs in a ditch somewhere in the Undercity.

Your mind had a knack for making things seem.. less complicated than they were. Call it a coping mechanism. You didn’t see a scenario where your parents would be incredibly upset that you brought home a man like him. Surely they would be welcoming to someone who has power. That’s what your brain told you, at least. You were sweet and innocent to everyone around you because your brain dumbed things down for you on the daily. Without that? You’d be a walking ball of anxiety. It’s better this way, being the silly little child of an aristocrat who could see the good in everyone.

You had agreed to meet Silco at the main bridge between Piltover and Zaun. When he walks through the evening fog, you smile at him. He was wearing a red button down with nice pants, probably some of the best clothes he had- while you were wearing a white button down with black pants. “You clean up nice.” You chuckle as he walks up to you.

“I try” he muses with a smirk as the two of you set off to your parent’s estate.

As the two of you walked, you can’t help but feel your chest tighten. Were you really about to bring a probably dangerous stranger into your parents home?

“What are you playing at, hm?” Silco hums, making you turn your head to look up at him. When he sees the look on your face, he chuckles. “I know this isn’t just a sweet little invitation. You have a motive.”

A sigh slips past your lips as you both mosey through the foggy streets of Piltover. “I needed a plus one.” You murmur.

“I don’t think I’m the kind of man you bring home to meet your parents.” He muses as he looks down at you.

You huff, rubbing the back of your neck. “Fine- fine.” You sigh. “My parents.. need me to get engaged. And I’m not very fond of the idea. So, I thought if I brought home..” you trail off quietly.

“An Undercity rat like me?” He huffs with a chuckle. “They’d realize they’d rather you single than with me? So if we broke up they’d be grateful?”

A groan slips past your lips as you reach up to rub your face. “Something like that.” You sigh. “Do you mind?”

He laughs faintly at your question. “Do I mind pretending to be the fiancé of a pretty little aristocrat?” He muses. “Not at all. Besides.. I’d rather be here than smoking a cigar in my office like every other night.”

The introduction to your parents was.. interesting.

“Mother, Father!” You say sweetly when you see your parents in the large foyer. They smile sweetly and walk up to you, both of their smiles faltering when they see Silco. “I wanted you to meet someone” you practically beam up at them.

Silco glances down and sees the look on your face, a smirk forming on his lips. You were quite the actor.. it was convincing. He looks at your parents and smirks a little wider at how they try to hold their smiles steady. He knew that look- the disapproving gaze as they examine his facial scars, and his inadequate outfit. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He says lightly as he looks between the two of them.

“This is Mr. Silco- my fiancé!” You grin.

Seeing your parents worlds shatter before their eyes was quite funny. Even Silco had to admit that.

“Your- your fiancé?” Your mother asks quickly, trying to keep up her sweet act and temperament.

“Surprising, I know.” Silco chuckles. “I will admit, we did rush into it a little. But we both know we could die tomorrow. Why not celebrate our love today?” He smiles at your parents.

Christ, you thought to yourself. He was quite the actor. Even you would’ve believed that.

“Silco, you said?” Your father asks as he reaches out his hand to Silco. “It’s.. a pleasure.” He murmurs hesitantly.

“Let’s introduce you to some of the business partners” you say sweetly to Silco as you pull on his arm, dragging him with you throughout the large ball room area.

The night went on, introducing Silco to whoever you could, the cringe on your parents faces truly satisfying. Maybe two hours later Silco has made a name for himself, managing to keep up with conversation better than anyone expected. He may be from the Undercity, but he was quick of tongue. Eventually you manage to pull him along with you into an empty library with only a fire burning for light. As you close the door, you sigh contentedly.

“You’re better at this than I expected” you chuckle as you lean against the door.

“In my youth I certainly did talk my way through a few.. obstacles” he smirks as he sips on the glass of champagne he had in his hand. “I never did ask..” he murmurs as he walks to look around the room, glancing at the books on the shelves. “You don’t want to marry?”

A sigh slips past your lips as you walk into the room, sitting on a chair next to the fire. “I’m not the marriage type.” You mutter.

“That much is clear.” He smirks as he sets his glass down, walking over and resting his hands on the arms of your chair, leaning down so his face wasn’t far from your own. “You aren’t quite like the rest of them, hm? No crave for greed.. no desires that need to be sated. Am I right?”

Your eyes meet his for a moment before you lean back in the chair, your eyes shifting to the fire. “Right.” You murmur.

He gently cups your chin, pulling your gaze back to his own. “Such a little thing, you are.” He murmurs as his eyes trace over you. “I see why your parents keep you on a short leash.” He smirks.

“Yeah, well” you sigh. “They want to hand the leash off to someone else. Preferably a young aristocrat.”

“What if I said I could make all of your problems.. go away?” Silco’s voice questions quietly as he pulls your chin closer to his own.

“What do you mean?” You whisper faintly as you gaze up at him.

“What if I took a hold of your leash? Instead of some stupid boy who won’t know what to do with you..” he muses.

You scoff at his words, pushing him off of you and standing up. “I’m not going to be pawned off like an object” you say firmly as you turn your back to him.

He sighs, walking up behind you and speaking near the shell of your ear. “Little one.. you’ll be pawned off either way. Would you rather go to someone who will allow you freedom? Or a stranger?” He questions faintly.

A shaky breath slips past your lips as you process his words. “This is crazy.” You say faintly as you run your fingers through your hair.

“There, there” he coos in your ear. “Think of it this way.. you met a nice man, and invited him to a party. He helped you by pretending to be your fiancé.. and now you return the favor.” He says as he turns you around so you’re facing him again. “It’s truly not that complicated.”

“Favor?” You question. “What could I possibly do for you?”

“I already control Zaun.” He explains as he cups your chin. “It is in my best interest that I have ties to Piltover as well. Ties.. that cannot be broken. Such as a marriage.”

OKAY GUYSSS this is officially the longest thing I’ve written!! Merry late Christmas🥱

[bothoutsiders]

Red, blue, yellow, and green reflections danced across each and every fogged-up window of the car. His body was cramping with the effort, and the weight put on the same activity over, and over again, in such a confined space, but the need to move and feel the pleasure was stronger.

The dull Christmas music that came from the lights and ornaments that decorated the mansion were being drowned by Tim's panting and wanton moans.

"What a pretty, baby bird," Jason had leaned down, and whispered in his ear.

He wasn't lying. The image of Tim, and what they were doing, was just perfect: his boyfriend almost completely naked (except for the shirt, tie, and his socks), on his knees, ass up, and chest pressed against the seat bottom, taking him so nicely, so sexy and-- fuck.

"You sing so beautifully," Jason whispered again, as he pounded into him harder. He pressed gently two fingers to his boyfriend's lips, ignoring completely that, seconds before, Tim had been drooling. He took them into his mouth, sucking on them, and only pausing to moan louder.

By now, both were sweating, and the windows were completely fogged-up. If Jason decided to look up, just to see if someone was coming, he wouldn't be able to distinguish anything.

"Let them go," he tried again to pry his fingers away from Tim's mouth, with no success. On a particular, hard, and deep thrust, Tim had to pull away only to moan, as he almost came in that instant. Jason was quick to replaced his fingers with his own mouth, kissing his boyfriend in a desperate, obscene way, moving erratically, feeling so close.

He had promised Tim that, the moment he would feel him coming, he would place his hand so that there wouldn't be any stain on the car. But even if he felt his boyfriend tightening around him, he didn't do it. Instead, he tried to give Tim the best fucking of his life, making sure he would see stars and come too much, and maybe, after this, he would have a bit of trouble walking back to the mansion and continue with the celebration inside.

Tim drooled again, as he came across the seat, some of it even landing on the car's floor mats.

Jason followed soon after, groaning as he dug his fingers on his boyfriend's hips, and with great mental effort, pulled out just in time.

As soon as he finished, he bolted out of the car, stretching his legs and back, and cursing the car. He was sure that if he had spent more time there, he would've had a cramp on his back and one of his legs. It was cold outside, but anything was better than staying in such an uncomfortable place.

"Jason..."

He heard the soft voice of Tim coming from the inside of the car, and without a second thought, went to him. "You okay?" When he looked back in the car, he saw his boyfriend sitting down on the backseat, resting his back against the window, with his legs spread open. And while it was dark, he still could see him perfectly, and he looked so good.

Maybe he could go for a second round in such a nasty place.

"I'm going to kill you."

Looking up at Tim's face, he saw how serious he was. Oh.

"I'll clean it. Let me help you get dressed again, you go back to the party, and I'll do the rest."

"If you don't, we're not having sex anymore... In a car... In a car that belongs to Bruce."

Jason smirked. "Deal."

--

jason and tim fucked in the rear seat of bruce's car, an aston martin 1957, and ofc jason planned this, making a mess in it, and he won't clean it, because f bruce. he can clean it himself. and yeah, jason is not invited to that celebration, but tim is, and it's okay guys, nobody is hurt by that, tim was only at the party for a bit, give and receive, and leave to have dinner with jason. ofc, after this tim is going back walking funny and making a funny face when sitting down (if he does), before awkwardly excusing himself to go "home" (to jason's).

[rinabin]

dance practice

“fucking seunghan,” you mutter under your breath, turning down yet another hallway. hearing the lack of loud obnoxious music, you realize you’ve gone the wrong way for the third time. groaning internally, you question why you’d tried to find this place yourself instead of simply asking the front desk. and of course seunghan had to not answer his phone at this very moment. granted he was probably practicing but hey!!!! you're a girl struggling in this maze that they called the dance building, you're allowed to be mad.

just as you’re about to take another step, you hear someone calling your name. whipping your head around expecting seunghan to come save you, you see another pair of eyes blinking at you instead.

“wonbin?” you say, surprised. 

wonbin gives you a small wave as he walks up. “what are you doing here? i’ve never seen you around the studio before” he asks.

explaining the dilemma you’re in, wonbin presses his lips together as if he’s trying not to laugh. you pause mid sentence and narrow your eyes at him, “so you think my suffering is funny?”

“no i would never think that,” he says with mock innocence. before you can retort, wonbin offers, “ i’m actually meeting them. you wanna walk together?” you nod, silently thanking wonbin for saving you from yourself.

a silence follows the two of you as you walk through the halls of the dance studio. taking in your environment, you try to memorize the correct turns and corners refusing to be embarrassed like this again.

“how’s daisy?” wonbin asks, catching you off guard.

“huh?” 

“daisy,” he repeats, with a grin, “how is she? i need to make sure i left her in good hands.”

you stare at him, deadpan, “you’re asking me how a stuffed animal is doing?”

wonbin lets out a side smile, “she’s your daughter isn’t she?" 

deciding to play along, you respond, “she’s very well, no thanks to you,” giving him a playful side eye. 

wonbin lets out a scoff, dramatically bringing his hand to his chest, “yn! how are you insult me like this? i literally birthed her.”

"shut up,” you softly shove him with your shoulder walking alongside him.

“soooooooooo, do you dance?” you question.

“not professionally like taro”, wonbin clarifies, “but i do enjoy it. i drop in sometimes when he’s practicing to blow off some steam.” he opens the studio door for you, “we’re here”. 

spotting seunghan, you immediately make a beeline towards him. “hey yn- ow what the hell!” seunghan exclaims as you lightly smack the back of his head. 

“that’s for not answering my texts and leaving me to fend for myself in this maze” you huff out. seunghan, confused opens his bag to see the 50 messages you left him on his phone.

“oh my god yn. i am so sorry, i left my phone on dnd” he apologies. "at least you made it here,” seunghan meekly adds.

rolling your eyes for dramatics, you hand him his wallet. observing the studio as seunghan packs his wallet, you see shotaro drinking water. you shyly raise your hand as a greeting, which he returns with a smile and a nod. next to him, you spot wonbin taking off his jacket, revealing a white tank top that showcase his defined arm muscles. feeling your face get warm at the sight, you quickly look back down at seunghan who is still ruffling through his bag. watching him scramble through his bag, you let him know you’re going to head out.

“wait, no don’t go.” seunghan exclaims, standing up from his bag. “we’re gonna go for lunch after. come with us. it’s on me”.

toying with the straps of your jacket, you mumble that you don’t want to be an intrusion. seunghan reassures you that you won’t be, looking over to shotaro for backup. shotaro agrees, encouraging you to stay while wonbin adds a soft “stay” in support. you meet his eyes - maybe for a moment too long - before turning back at seunghan. 

“okay”, you whisper as you slide down to get settled on the floor. as you put your stuff away, you make eye contact with wonbin once again. he meets your gaze with a gentle expression, definitelyyyyyy not leaving you with butterflies in your chest.

masterlist

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a/n: merry christmas and happy holidays!!! hope u all enjoy my gift to u <3

taglist [send an ask or comment to be added]: @antosaurius@jkeydiary@cherrytaesan@dorritoni@profoundruinsunknown @daegale @choc0br3ad

[kira-fluff]

thinking about sitting on the couch post-movie with mammon.

mammon tenatively rests his head on your lap, his gaze at last meeting your eyes. which was simultaneously the worst and best decision he ever made. because, dammit, your eyes are so. fucking. beautiful. despite his desire to spend the rest of his life looking at you - only you - he finds his eyes closing in relaxation as you quietly hum.

his eyes don't stay closed for long. you absently card your fingers through his silvery hair, and he lets out a moan. open-mouthed. head tilted back. eyes still closed. eyebrows raised, meeting in the middle in pure bliss.

his eyes shoot open, staring at you wide eyed. you briefly stop your ministrations, just as shocked at his reaction. and he is SO. EMBARRASSED. so, he turns his head, averting his gaze. but he turned to the wrong side, and now his mouth is centimeters away from your crotch.

in his attempt to remove himself, he scrambles and falls off the couch, slamming against the floor. he stares at you in horror, sitting up with his hands against the carpet, breathing heavily, face flushed bright red.

you stare at each other, completely silenced.

then, you let out a laugh, your eyes shinning brightly. you try to cover your mouth, but you know there's no point.

mammon sputters incredulously. "s-stop laughin'! 's not funny!"

you only laugh harder, falling off the couch yourself in your fit of hilarity.

despite his slight displeasure in your amusement, he can't help but tilt his head and smile.

you're his everything, don't you know?

-

a/n: trying something a little different with a short little imagine. hope you guys like it 💕

[trashy-tries-writing]

Hiii its me again 🍄 anon! And i got more ideas for Ravine writing!

Ok so what if like we have a scenario where maybe Ravine gets caught off guard, like someone unexpectedly came up from behind him(I honestly doubt that would actually happen but just for the sake if the post lets just say it happens) and Ravine's first instinct/reaction is to grab whoever's behind him and throw them over his shoulder (WWE style-) then proceeds to almost blow there head off with whatever firearm on him at the time.

If it wasn't for whoever got bodied to snap Ravine out of it there would have been a blood soak floor. When said person gets up they ask him what that was about and as per usual, Ravine says nothing but just stares at them before walking away.

I just think it would be funny seeing people like Ghost and Price get bodied/thrown around like it was nothing. And honestly seeing König get decommissioned in seconds would be hilarious! He's probably so used to being feared by everyone/being build like a fuckin truck that having someone casually just flip him would probably throw him for a loop.

Anyways thanks for listening to my dumb rambling again! Ravine always makes me feel better! This is 🍄 anon and ill see you next time!

Also Ravine could do that to me and i would fuckin thank him-

Watching Young Justice League- (or the crash course bc I can’t find full ep.) and realizing they skipped so much stuff. Maybe I should’ve started with comics instead of a TV series. Anyone have recommendations for someone who’s just getting into DC? (I already have like- a character that turns from a normal boy into a meta-human into the moon- I meAN WHAT- Too much fun with angst. I swear I try to write fluff, I swear I am. XD)

Also Spiderman??? So much angst on top of angst on top of angst- Like "Spider-man: No Way Home- WHAT DO YOU MEAN?? PETER MY CHILD OMG 😭 Fuck that I'm gonna make a character where the magic didn't work on him. Fuck u Marvel for making every Spider-man sad 😭 (Anyone wanna read that? 👀👀)

Hi hi 🍄 Anon👋, thank you so much for sharing this because I had so much fun! XD And it's not dumb I love your rambles! Let's just say that it was on a day where Ravine was thinking of the past. Problem solved😌 I hope you enjoy this and see you around 🍄 Anon👋💕 Omg same– WHAT WHO SAID THAT! Also merry christmas everybody! Hope you’re having a wonderful holiday! 💕

He didn’t mean to, he really didn’t. But that didn’t stop his reflexes from working faster than his brain. Ravine should’ve known to stay inside if he was going to be taken over with his thoughts.

Simon Ghost Riley

Ghost had been walking around the base for too long, just trying to find the giant of a man. How is it possible to not know where someone that big was? It’s not like he can hide with his size.

Or can he?

He has a feeling that Ravine can do so much more than he has already shown TF 141, and Ghost was eager to know when that would be.

Ghost blinks when he sees Ravine’s slouched body leaving the weapon room, a box under his arm with mechanical parts sticking out if and his attention stuck to the papers in his other hand.

Of course he would be working on something.

When was he not?

But Ravine was so deeply rooted inside his head, he wasn’t reading the documents or even looking at it correctly when he felt it.

Someone was behind him.

Someone-

Ravine feels his skin crawl, his mind playing tricks on him and-

Ghost feels gravity leaving him as Ravine yanks him over his shoulder. With his vision upside down, a silent gasp leaves his mouth. The air gets knocked out of his lungs as he lays on the cold ground with his hand in Ravine’s tight grip, his eyes swimming.

“Argh! Ravine, it's me!”

CRASH

Ravine drops everything as he falls to his knee, hands now softly brushing over Ghost as he sits up. He groans as he leans back on Ravine’s bent knee. Ravine twitches at the contact before lightly placing his hand on his hurt shoulder.

Ghost tilts his head towards Ravine’s chest, he can almost hear his heart beating out of his ribcage from guilt as he tries to catch his breath from being thrown around.

Despite the situation and the physical ache, Ghost finds Ravine’s reactions hilarious. (Don’t tell anyone that.)

Ravine doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know where to put his other hand as it lingers around Ghost who’s clenching and unclenching his fist, testing if it’s sprained or not by the firm grip Ravine had it a few seconds ago.

Ravine wants to leave, walk away as if he didn’t just hurt his teammate because of his wild instincts.

"What was that-"

Ghost’s shoulder aches and he blinks at the hand mark slowly forming on his wrist.

“-Bloody hell…”

Ravine tenses.

Ravine lifts Ghost up with ease, a little too much ease to the latter's taste as he hurries through the mess of fallen mechanical parts and loose documents.

He calmly walks through the base, getting Gaz and Soap’s attention as they pass the lounge. Gaz’s eyes widen while the water leaks out from Soap’s gaping mouth onto his shirt.

“What- Was that- Did…???”

“Ravine carrying Ghost? Yep definitely was them.”

Price could only stare as Ravine barges into his office with Ghost looking a little too comfortable in his arms as if he could take a nap right there and then.

The captain pulls his lips into a thin line, slowly slurping from his coffee mug as he squints his eyes at them.

“Let me guess…”

“Yes.”

“Oh boy.”

Ravine looks down at Ghost who’s leaning his head further into his chest, secretly enjoying the situation and then at Price who stares as if it’s a normal Tuesday.

Later they get told by the doctor that Ghost’s shoulder is injured due to being almost pulled out of his sockets and his wrist was now branded with Ravine’s hand for who knows how many days- weeks even.

Ravine couldn’t face Ghost for weeks- months if it wasn’t for Ghost and Price cornering him like they did the day Ghost met Ravine for the first time.

Ghost has a sense of déjà-vu.

(Sometimes brushes his hand over the purple-bluish bruise and compares his hand size with Ravines.)

John Price

It happened while they were still getting to know each other in the early days when Price found him inside that… room.

He knew he had to tread carefully with the burning man. He was like a wounded animal, cornered with nowhere to escape with his fangs bared at anything that breathed too loudly or at all.

But Price believed they had crossed over that line as Ravine didn’t react when he had to sit down in a room full of people or inside the tiny car he had to fit in to go on missions. (Price voiced out how too soon it was to send Ravine anywhere. But orders were orders.)

Ravine didn’t react to anything at all anymore. A perfect weap- soldier as Shepard liked to call him.

And so when they arrived back to base after another successful mission with Ravine making it so much easier with his fast killing and stealth, Price had only wanted to praise him for his good work.

But maybe, just maybe it wasn’t a smart idea to suddenly come up from behind him right after a tense operation-

Since Price found himself on the ground, his body having been flipped into the air like he weighed nothing as he landed with a loud ‘BANG’ echoing off the walls and on the ground.

Laswell gasped in surprise, jumping from her seat as Ravine took a step back as if realizing now what he had just done.

The gun that he had pulled out from his holster was now lowered instantly. Ravine’s body was tense, freezing still in his spot.

Price gets back on his feet, leaning slightly onto Laswell as he groans, trying to downplay the situation for Ravine.

“Shiiiiiit… You sure know how to use that strength of yours., don't you?"

Silence takes over the room before Ravine vanishes from his sight, quickly marching away from them with nothing to say. It makes Price sigh loudly.

Laswell chuckles underneath her breath. “Well that was a sight.”

“Will not happen again, so enjoy it while it lasts.” Price breathes out, hands on his hips as he bends his back forward with pain. “Damn it, I need to see the medic…I think I broke something.”

He ends up with bruised skin on his back, even fractured bones that puts him out of commission.

Price eyes the doctor, “...Well I’ll be damned.”

Price never thought that he would end up getting slammed into the ground like the enemies Ravine sometimes threw over his shoulder. Luckily for him Ravine didn’t use as much force as he did with them as they were directly knocked out of their consciousness...and then shot to death.

‘Now where is…’

It took a few months for him to finally get a real conversation with Ravine.

König

He shouldn’t be feeling like this, he really shouldn’t. But König continues to scream into his head, cheeks flared up with his thoughts stuck from the earlier occurrences.

König leaves the training facility, a towel draped over his shoulders as he makes his way to the showers to relax his muscles from the workout. Soon enough his stomach rumbles and he changes his mind of going back to his room to relax.

Rounding the corner, he sees Ravine staring through the window, his arms crossed over his chest, making his back muscle tense.

Feeling a little confident to try talking to the soldier who was just as tall as him, sticking out like a sore thumb in the team with… shorter people, König approaches the quiet man with a small smile.

“Hey Ravine.”

Surprised that the man didn’t react like he usually would when called, König tilts his head as he reaches a hand out.

“Rav-?”

A startled yelp escapes his lips, the world tilts and he finds himself staring at the swinging lights hanging from the ceiling. His body twitches uncomfortable and aches in pain as confusion swims in his eyes.

With his breath knocked out of him, shock taking over mentally and physically as Ravine slowly releases his steel grip, König tries to choke out something but he could only gasp. 

“…W-Was..?” -…W-What..?

Pain radiates through his left side but as König sees Ravine’s body loom over him, pressure withdrawn from his stomach and arms, and the realization that he had been so easily decommissioned in seconds, has left a new kind of warmth rushing through him.

König slowly rises to his feet, hand shooting up to rub his shoulder. The man stares confused when Ravine is now checking him over with what he guesses is worry, since there isn’t much to find out with his face covered and the silence in his throat.

“I-I’m fine, you just took me by surprise.”

Ravine brushes his fingers over the bruise forming on König’s wrist and König doesn’t know why he suddenly felt he should leave.

“Don’t worry, it’s fine. I er- I’m going to eat now. Yeah…now.”

However, with his food sitting in front of him, fork in hand, König stares silently in front of him, confusing his teammates in the dining hall and creeping others with his unblinking eyes. And just as quietly as he came he robotically goes back to his room.

That’s when he flops down on his bed, face pushed into his pillow, his face reddening when the situation with Ravine finally hits him.

Ravine had swung him over his shoulder like nothing and had pressed his knee down on his stomach, keeping him in place with his arms over his head with a grip that left handprints on him that were bruising.

König was used to being feared and manhandling others- others as in targets to eliminate- but being tossed around like a toy by someone else is-

‘AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH-’

Both were evading the other’s presence without the other’s knowledge until they were put back together for a mission.

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

@livinglifebesticanlol @jackiebluh @cumbermovels @agspgrwasb

I hope you enjoyed this! If anyone has any other imagine, scenarios, headcanon, etc. Feel free to send it to me, I love reading what you guys have in mind ❤️

[forecast0ctopus]

[science-lings]

When Trucy moves out to go on tour and be an Adult I think that Phoenix would be so lonely which is his least favorite thing to be, and the best way to fix that is for him to adopt the meanest most fucked up asshole cat who becomes his best friend within a month. We already know it’s a big part of his personality to be like ‘I can fix them’ whenever he sees someone who needs help and gets a little depressed when he has to be alone.

He can’t stand the silence of an empty apartment so what better way to fix it than with a creature who will yell at him for the fun of it while eventually fulfilling his physical affection requirements after a long day of having a Normal job. He’s at his best when he has someone to take care of so what better than a ratty little kibby who needs to learn the power of love.

[worstloki]

Tony: I really don't like this whole ‘good guy, bad guy’ routine you guys have going on. Creeps me out. Thor: It is not an act. I am loud and Loki is not Tony: Not in my experience

[fumifooms]

Onis, cannibalism and the above-divine power of human conscience in Touge Oni

"It can only be referred to as the curse or by its ancient name, kidou (Way of the oni). It is the greatest, mightiest and most abominable power of all humankind. The source of the ??? selfish prosperity accomplished through the relentless reaping of the harvest that is the people. It [is] a be[???] formless concept but it is the foundation on which civilizations and t[he ???] kami are built. What must be done, I do not know. It will not suffice to merely kill and be rid of it, it must be taken." -Sansei Shounin Kozumi

Hello! Short opener because I want to get straight into it- Have you read Touge Oni? If you haven’t, stop right the fuck here and go read it!!!!!!!! Go read it go go go!!!!!!!!! With that said, I’ve been having this thought since vol 5~6 but I just did a full reread before going into reading volume 7 and I am only more confident now. Because of the nature of this analysis, word choices are very important, there is no official english translation currently and although I also read the manga in french, there is a high quality english translation by Penny Theater, thank you! The pages shown here are theirs.

There are 2 sections here to cover: what are onis and what is the power that be: what gives onis credence at all, what gives the oni curse power, what gives gods power. Going into these two things points us towards an answer to perhaps our current biggest question in the story— what the hell is the oni curse?

About Onis

So, first I think we have to acknowledge the real life counterparts to the beings and beliefs Touge Oni references. In our real world, En-no-Ozuna, or En-no-Gyoja, is a half-historical half-legendary person that is credited for the creation of Shugendō, a religion. With this knowledge there’s a lot of fun links that can be made with the story, like how its religious practice involves hiking through mountain ranges (Touge Oni: oni of the [mountain] pass). Or how, Zenki (Zen’s alias) and Goki (future-Miyo’s alias in the first chapters) in legends are (mountain) onis that En-no-Gyoja rallied to his side, they pledged to renounce their evil and follow him. Shugendō means "the path of training and testing", which is also very reminiscent of themes the story has been pointing towards. "Let us, then, be up and doing, with a heart for any fate".

Ehem, all this to say, shugendō is a religion that’s very syncretic, which means it combines ideas a lot of different religions and schools of thought, including buddhism, taoism (remember that En-no-Ozuna in the story is referred to as an unaffiliated daoist monk), ainu beliefs and shintoism. For the purpose of this analysis, (including my lack of finding shugendō ressources about onis) that means it doesn’t narrow down what interpretations of onis may be relevant. In Touge Oni, many beliefs and religions similarly coexist pretty much seamlessly, and it even references several ancient texts on deities and whatnot, and the "canon" on the details of onis is pretty much unheard of from my research. I’m not a religious or Japan expert by any means but I know just enough to affirm that this sort of mix and mash is accurate to the era, beliefs coexist in ways that are sometimes not cut and clean. For this analysis I went diving into the wikipedia for onis and let me tell you that was an example of this, buddhism, shintoism, folktales, without mentioning non-japanese cultural equivalents subtypes and influences— there are so many variations of onis through time.

All this to say…! We can’t rely on historical depictions of onis to solve this, there’s no cheat code, we have to analyze through what Touge Oni gives us for the answers we seek. Even Touge Oni tells us how onis can refer to different things, oni not only being used for man-eating monsters but also for ‘eccentric people’, those who don’t fit in, those who people want to villify and dehumanize. Nevertheless, from the humble amount of research I did, I found a couple of real life examples that can give us something to work with:

— Akiko Baba classifies onis into five categories: 1: Folklore onis, associated with ancient ancestral spirits, especially earth spirits. 2: Onis associated with religions held by people living in mountainous areas, like the yamabushi (who follow shugendō!!! Yamabushi meaning, those who lie down in the mountain). (Baba-san please tell me your sources I need to find any sources on Shugendō-specific onis… Are you just talking about Zenki and Goki?!!) 3: Onis linked to buddhism, like evil demons (jakki) and devil figures from outside cultures like yakshas and rakshasas. 4: Human onis, bandits or violent people who became onis as divine punishment. 5: Onis from transformation stories, where someone transforms into an oni because of intense resentment or anger, especialy in nō theater.

You’ll notice here that many of these have interesting implications for Touge Oni onis, especially the human oni category! But also how Zen notably succumbs to his violent rage against Shounin has some similar implications to the transformation oni, and of course there’s the yamabushi oni, which as far as my research went mostly means onis who can be "tamed". Onis eating humans isn’t a constant, but it’s a very common (and often central) aspect of their presence as a myth.

— Lafcadio Hearn in his book Shokunjinki ("the man-eating oni") says that "those who have been greedy of their living are supposed to become gakis (starving spirits)" before falling into the Gakidō (the kingdom of starving spirits) after their death.

So here it’s greed that corrupts. This will be more topical in the conclusion section of my analysis, but for now let’s just piece all of this together and remember that there is half nature and half nurture to onis in most myths that are relevant to us here, half earned and half innate. In versions like in Touge Oni where onis were humans before being changed, they started out the same as anybody but through immoral actions or negative emotions have transformed into literal monsters, either as divine punishment or just the innate corrupting nature of their acts or feelings. Cannibalism is most definitely an immoral action haha, with or without the concept of sin, so this slots neatly into that. So that’s the earned half— But once you become an oni, something has been innately changed within your being, even if your actions were your own as a human— and like in Touge Oni, it’s not unheard of than an oni would want to reform themselves, but still quite uncommon for them to be able to or invited to, En-no-Ozuno’s act like in the legend to extend a helping hand to onis, offering to direct their life towards good, and for the onis to accept and join him… This is a big act of faith in these onis, these people, in that they haven’t been warped enough that they can’t enact any free will for good anymore.

Okay! Lastly for the only irl-historical section of this analysis… The onis in the oni village call themselves ayo-no-oni, or in its full name Ayo-no-Sato-no-Oni. It’s a one-eyed, man-eating oni that’s the oldest verifiable depiction of an oni in japanese literature (Izumo-no-Kuni Fudoki). Thank you Penny Theater! Fun fact, one of the irl origins for onis is thought to be miners and such, so the onis here being metal workers who have injured eyes from their work is a fun detail.

Okay, that’s all the obligatory context out of the way… Now, onto the mystery of the Touge Oni.

Cannibalism is the sole thing known to turn people into onis. Only humans become onis, and the only way to do so is eat human flesh. Like mister monk here, I think the oni curse being divine punishment in a strict sense is unlikely — and was disproven in the manga. But even then it doesn’t feel like the oni curse truly has morality attached to it, it seems like just a… Phenomenon. Uninterested in the circumstances around those it afflicts and impartial in how and who it develops and hounds.

And well… As we see soon enough, the kamis have no power over onis’ state. Like En-no-Ozuno points out it’s very unexpected, the extent to which kamis, especially ookamis and especially Hitokotonushi, should be unlimited, but it seems that this curse of the onis’ even has power over the kamis, is above them, something almost higher than gods in the hierarchy of the laws of the universe, maybe an innate energy or power of the world, like life.

Incidentally, there’s something that humans have and nothing else does, which could explain why the curse only affects humans, a power that becomes central to the story… Something like mantra.

Additional info would be that in Touge Oni, an oni’s horns have a huge focus on them. They’re often referred to as if they are what holds the curse, maybe are the origin of it, where the seed of the curse is planted, like if the horns fall from your head then the curse will just leave you as well. They’re the only visible trait of an oni in most cases, the first and most iconic one at least, and En-no-Ozuno has designed a way to "block" them from appearing through putting a hoop on blood vessels, to which Shounin points out that you can also block their "murderous urge" and "madness" in the same way, perhaps in a process akin to blocking chi flow, a concept that exists in some forms of medicine like acupuncture. The exact mental effects of being an oni are unknown, it’s implied that being an oni comes with side-effects of violent urges and a short temper, but we see with the village of onis that that’s not exactly… Relevant, or noticeable? A lot of this more fragile mental state could logically be attributed to what would push you to commit cannibalism in the first place, famine and horrible conditions that put you in a survival of the fittest mode, trauma and extreme circumstances. So in the end, the finer points of what it means to be an oni in-world are left vague. Different degrees of transformation exist, so to speak. Future-Zen in the capital chapter grows to an enormous size. The appearance of horns onto someone eating human flesh is immediate.

About mantra

From the very start, Touge Oni places a lot of emphasis on the power of language.

Even every chapter ends with records of the sacred treasures being made/shown, religious writings and information archiving. The story references older stories for its own era, and also it very much has a meta dimension to it (that it spells out at the camera with its diegetic fourth wall breaking and timetravel shenanigans-), Touge Oni is a story from the old past of our real world reaching us readers through a book.

The manga ends up talking about philosophy a LOT, and strives to teach a way to think of life where you become aware of the gigantic infinite cosmic scale of the universe and without forgetting or undermining the meaning in a life, the joy to be had in the small things and deciding your own fate. These two aspects of the story, the importance of communication and philosophy, make the entrance of the concept of "mantra" (呪) fitting, smoothens it with coherence and intuition both.

Mantras are thoughts, concepts, wants and will all wrapped into one word. Mantra is your conscience. Mantra is soul. Mantra is kidou.

Kamis see things like bonds between people, Sadera’s zenmiyo shipping goggles etc, and similarly Ookuninushi says that Miyo has a nice mantra after meeting her and it’s… Well, it’s vague, we’re unsure what to make of it, in meaning and measure. Most direct and substantiated theory imo is that she has nice willpower and life philosophy, like when she talks to Susanoo and he takes an immediate liking to her because of her words about life and joy and how to find happiness even in cosmic insignificance. But still! Vague as hell, in good part due to just how wide of a concept mantra is, even just hard to wrap your head around it and visualize it fully.

In the end it’s a pretty abstract concept, so there’s still much to finetune about how it acts and the philosophy around it. For example, Hitokotonushi says this about the nature of wishes and mantras.

The nature of wishes and the nature of mantra… Perhaps she means how Zen understanda how a want affects the whole of the world, that everything is give and take and that when taking balance doesn’t stay the same. Something gained somewhere is something lost elsewhere, like in the ukei, gaining ground and ressources are things enemy man-grass cannot have, and all these things that Miyo taught them and did for them are things for which they in turn attributed to her, it generated thoughts and emotions and worship and mantra, Miyo gave and they gave back.

Mantras can be seen as the power to grant wishes… Interesting indeed. In this way, mantra, like worship points in the ukei, could rather be seen as an unlimited ressource that humans generate. Then, maybe it’s more that Zen wishing for Miyo’s feelings to be changed would be suppressing her mantra, rather than taking, disrupting the flow of this mysterious, powerful energy… Like disrupting chi.

But let’s step back! Kamis are made of mantra, "humans brought them forth through mantras and gave them forth". And THIS is why when a kami has less worshippers and gets less worship, less reverence and thoughts from people, they become smaller and weaker, enough that now most kamis can’t step outside their shrines, enough that some become microscopic when completely forgotten— Wait why are kanjis making up atoms and the fabric of the universe?

Let’s remember that when Miyo got smaller than microscopic, smaller than atoms, the essence of matter and time was writing characters. The kanjis here move, they seem alive almost. There is something divine about human language, human thought, in its essence. Many times we see how important consciousness and thoughts and will are important within the world of Touge Oni, how the concept of them exists and lives as a force. This is a kami talking abotu what resides in a black hole- death and nothingness yet everything that is.

Who knows how much mantra truly has power over! Fascinating. But see, while having people’s indifference as a kami is bad, having their hate is worse. Like Hitokotonushi states, humans’ terror for kamis have turned into a plague over kamis. Hitokotonushi is an impossibly powerful kami that is by that virtue terrifying, and perhaps more importantly is a easy target for anger- with infinite power to grant wishes yet only grants wishes from people who successfully climb her mountain, even granting harmful wishes. The jealousy, the frustration, the injustice— there are so many reasons why Hitokotonushi would become a target for negative emotions, so many reasons she would have to flee to the moon to be far enough from humans, in fear of their sole mind’s will’s power.

So humans, their worship, mantra, people’s thoughts and feelings and conceptualization of a kami, are what gives kamis their status and power, and also what takes it away. Even more than simply taking what they have away, what they have given in the first place, mantra can curse.

Let’s remember the description of kidou by Shounin that I opened this analysis with. "It can only be referred to as the curse or by its ancient name, kidou (Way of the oni). It is the greatest, mightiest and most abominable power of all humankind. The source of the ??? selfish prosperity accomplished through the relentless reaping of the harvest that is the people. It [is] a be[???] formless concept but it is the foundation on which civilizations and t[he ???] kami are built. What must be done, I do not know. It will not suffice to merely kill and be rid of it, it must be taken."

Kidou is mantra. The foundation on which civilizations and kamis are built. The mightiest power of humankind. The reaping of the harvest that is the people like harvesting worship points from man-grass. Shounin wants to save Hitokotonushi from her current affliction, something that can only be done by countering human mantra somehow, something kamis and even sennins, who seem to operate through a lack of mantra rather than under it like kamis, cannot do. It will not suffice to be rid of it, it must be taken, it must be given to the kamis to be self-sufficient, it must be presented to the divine. The oni curse is mantra.

Shounin’s goal is saving Hitokotonushi by removing mantra. Although I think remove might be the wrong word— I theorized that removing mantra from humans could save Hitokotonushi either through directly removing the bind of human mantra upon kamis, or stopping the mantra from changing- deteriorating with time with less worship or turning to anger disrespect and terror, BUT his presentation to the divine consists in giving mantra to kamis- presenting it to them, hence my saying just earlier that this could instead be giving them the power of mantra, rather than just removing it from existence entirely. Instead of telling a fire it no longer needs fuel to keep going, you give it the power to feed itself wood and gasoline endlessly.

And just now I spoke of sennins in a way living without mantra- let’s get into that.

The final step to becoming a seinin is to walk through a town wracked by famine and misery without stopping or lifting a single finger. To offer no help and remain focused on the task to get through it above everything. It’s about leaving empathy behind and putting yourself above the situation, it’s about growing indifferent, as though the suffering of others even around you is inconsequential and doesn’t concern you.

To become a sennin is to leave the scale of thinking of humans, it’s to have learned as a human to think like kamis and see humans as small and meaningless within the cosmic design of the universe. Or rather, a type of transcending humanity that grows cynical, almost resentfully so, where emotions are worth less than nothing and cold logic reigns. But to what design, to what goal? The pursuit of spiritual ascendance is motivating and tempting enough for most, but we do see that some of what we see in Shounin are character flaws specific to him. The sennin mother was kind enough. Shounin talks like no one should care about anything if they are enlightened, but everything he does is ironically out of love for Hitokotonushi-sama.

This incoherence can probably be explained by the "reintegration" Shounin regularly does. We can look at the sacred treasure record of saiukou. "Regular disintegration and reintegration are necessary to keep personality-mantra coherence. Remember your heart." Something Shounin does to brute-force not fully leaving his feelings behind and remembering his goals? I hit the 30 pics per post limit so lemme just stitch the rest of the relevant sacred treasure record puzzle pieces together whike I’m here…

To ascend is to leave mantra behind. Somehow, to wield mantra is to be above-divine, it is incompatible with godhood or ascendance yet it influences and all is bound by it. It is a power that as a sennin you give up, a sacrifice instead of a granted wish, mantra is like the power to grant wishes and ascendance in true ascetism fashion is to, like Zen, refuse to use it and take.

Mantra, the human-exclusive level of thought and philosophy and communication and ability to visualize and build and want. The power of desires. The thing through which one can ascend or curse.

To become a divine being is to leave humanity behind, to leave humanity behind is to leave empathy and compassion and emotions behind. These things are however what makes us different from gods, what gives us powers over them, what makes life as insignificant man-grass worthy.

What is the oni curse?

Kidou, the curse of the oni, as per Shounin’s explanation what civilizations and kamis are built on, what he seeks to take to unchain kamis. Kidou is mantra.

Okay so… The curse of the oni is mantra, but how? What does that even mean?

Well, we’ve learned that most things are ruled by mantra, aka human will and imagination. Becoming a sennin has to do with transcending your own, mantras are what empower and disempower gods. The oni, too, in text, is said to be directly tied to the power of mantra, it is what shuts kamis’ mouths. But sennins, unlike kamis, are not created by human’s mantra, sennins do not rely on humans’ worship (mantra) for their powers and so their mouths aren’t shut, they are outside of mantras’ reach.

To remove an oni’s horns, their curse, by Hitokotonushi’s words is to rob them of their soul. To remove their oni curse is to remove the oni’s mantra. Which means the curse of the oni has tainted their mantra. The… mantra of the curse has tainted and fused with the person’s own mantra, the mantra involved in eating another human being has changed their own mantra innately forever until death. There’s a couple of different ways in which this could happen or for what reason, more precisely.

Human thoughts aka mantra, are what gives gods their forms, we are taught explicitly during the ukei that humans’ conceptualization of a kami dictates their appearance, wether they become a dragon or some other figure. Human mantra also has the power to curse gods- terror for a god becomes a plague that saps at their life and power.

A narrative then becomes clear, does it not? A koi that eats a koi remains a koi, a bear that eats human flesh does not become afflicted by an oni-like curse, the curse is human-bound. If it is the form-altering power of mantra that could curse onis into being, then… Human cannibalism is abhorred and demonized more than perhaps anything else, on a very innate and visceral level.

So by my favored theory, humans becoming monsters after doing cannibalism is that the intense judgement people who commit cannibalism face, this thought that immediately such an act makes them no longer human, takes form and manifests as a mantra that makes it true physically and spiritually— they not only become monsters but their very being is tainted, and since the stereotype of the average cannibal is a heartless emotionless bloodthirsty beast, that’s what onis are forced to become like on an intrinsic level. It is a more or less common myth worldwide, even just often a non-spiritual belief, that committing cannibalism saps at your humanity and turns you into something monstrous, like for example with the wendigo. Like we said earlier, onis are creatures of myth, and the biggest constant is that they are man-eating monsters. Mythical beings are somewhat like kamis, and since kamis can be of disaster or misfortune etc they can be believed in while still being negative in nature, so what’s to say committing an act that intrinsically changes so much about your spiritual state and your reputation in society, fitting the requirements for being an oni, turn you into one? A curse, placed on humans by humans, mantra, thought given form. It is no divine judge,ent, this is not Buddha’s doing, wether or not people can be "redempted" or wether they "deserve" it doesn’t matter, just the intense ostracization and dehumanization that the act inflicts upon you. Now anyone can see at a glance that you’ve committed such an heinous act, and the fear of onis continues on, as many are exiled ir isolated and encouraged to keep eating humans.

To commit cannibalism is to abandon your humanity. AbsoluteColor has an interesting theory centered on this. In their words, becoming an Oni might be something along the lines of transcendence, incomplete as it might be. In the Gabi trial, the aspiring sennin should shed his own emotions and go through a land devastated by war or famine without doing anything, and in a way the Oni who used other humans to feed himself had to shed his emotions, although they did so to gain something for themselves (food), making it a "stunted" transcendence...

My other theory is that since humans possess mantras, eating one breaks something/ fundamentally changes something in your being, either your spirit or body, because mantras are a power that can’t be consumed. So trying to consume it instead deflects it, channeling it in a way, and in this way becoming corrupted because something went wrong. But if it’s unrelated to the taboo as in theory 1 then it’d be weird that animals eating humans don’t become cursed- but the trouble could be that it’s a human eating mantra specifically, again that theme of a human’s special sentience being specially affected by things. Like, an animal doesn’t have the capacity to hold mantras so it slides off their back no trouble, but instead a human eating mantras is like trying to absorb or process it but it causes swelling past the bursting point. After all the process of becoming a god or something divine/above-human is a big topic, and we see how it changes someone and the strain that comes with it, the sacrifices, since by becoming a sennin you shed human emotions. In this reading human sentience itself is transcendant essentually, (and thus deeply affects the world,). Becoming a oni is to be chained by mantra, but the why exactly is up in the air, here it’s that eating another’s as a human, creature that generates mantra rather than being made of it like kamis and absorbing it within yourself messes you up, maybe because by digesting mantra you become made of mantra in some way, maybe the horns are pure mantra, part of them now. The other thing that makes this less likely is that the taboo theory offers some explanation as to why gods would be forbidden to speak about it despite knowing the details of it— it’s something so vile you cannot even speak of its origins, something sow oven into the laws of mantra and the universe that undoing it is unthinkable to even amatsus.

It could be a fusion of these. By consuming mantra you ascend to godhood in a way, and that is what allows one to become affected by mantra. Become bound by it. I’ve also entertained the idea that maybe it is their own mantra affecting their appearance, self-loathing and self-doubt and low self-esteem, your own consideration for your own humanity, after eating human flesh, that you no longer feel human or think you are monstrous. But it has low chances, because that can’t possibly be a phenomenon that always occurs impartially then, not everyone would think of themselves that way, especially with how out of it famine can make someone. This could be not unsimilar to this presentation of the divine deal, where you give the power of having mantra to a being only affected by mantra, onkt the other way around, where a being that generates mantra is now also commandeered by it, an essentialist tool of fate and the universe or something.

So,

to recap!

In my opinion either the oni mantra is strong because the taboo of it is strong, or because mantras are a tangible specially-corruptive thing when consumed.

Since the oni curse is mantra, removing it would have to be done through countering the mantra in some way, perhaps with a stronger positive one about how onis are humans like the rest of us or they can choose their own fate etc etc, or like what Shounin seeks to do to save Hitokotonushi from her curse, through removing mantra entirely.

The koi eats koi thing that the monk brought up is super interesting, any time a manga or japanese media touches on cannibalism it’s go-to example/case study to bring up, I regularly see it referenced even when I pick up a random manga. Asura by George Akiyama from 1970 is just one example. It seems koi eating koi is vey present in japanese consciousness… Which yeah is interesting— Kois are one popularized example but anytime we hear about animal species committing cannibalism we’re shocked by it, so it’s interesting how likely due to japanese exposure to kois it’s what sometimes haunts their stories. This sort of thing is visceral it feels like an innate wrong, so for talking about morality and nature and the innate status of things, yet the concept of higher sentience and how virtues are what makes humans special— it feels very emblematic and topical in many ways, and a very uniquely charged one.

I’m thinking that if they were to through with the Presentation of the Divine and the world became mantra-less Zen’s horns would fall. Which would be an interesting conflict because then Zen would have to consider "ok nice but is it worth trading for human sentience…", which ties back to the theme of wishes… Since human sentience is explicitly connected to mantras I feel like that supports the link I’m making here right, and how human emotions are something not below but rather above and inaccessible to the divine. Gods channel the power from their will through literal god powers that shape the world meanwhile humans can only channel their will through their actions, maybe it’s an inherent shift there that changes everything.

If onis have a strong mantra, and the kami, which are made of mantras, can’t undo the mantra of onis… Then perhaps, the same way that humans gave and take power of the kamis through mantras, humans are what made onis such a strong curse. Perhaps for the horns to fall, the devil’s mark as Ozuno said so fiercely once, the horns that are the mark of the oni, that give them their bloodlust and madness, then all it takes is for humans at large to stop fearing onis so— or rather, stop seeing cannibalism as an irredeemable act that strips your humanity from you forevermore. The power of thoughts is at the core of the story, and the intrigue with Shounin is baiting people to wonder, would it be so bad if that was taken away? Ozuno is tempted to go through with the Presentation to the supreme because it would cure his beloved, and if that were to cure Zen as well… Either from humans no longer being able to make mantras, or kamis becoming more powerful than the onis’ mantra, then that could be one more point of contention. I doubt Zen will be tempted, though, as someone who himself experienced it— survival at its rawest, mindless form. Hitokotonushi said it herself, that he understood the nature of wishes and thus mantras, with how he refused his second most important wish. Miyo herself is stated by people around her to have a fine mantra, a fine will and way to think, so I think that’s why our trio is the stuff of fate, the heroes of this tale. They have a bond so strong that the gods recognize it, and it’ll be because they’ll reach erudite knowledge on mantras and life without sacrificing their compassion or the perspective of a lowly human, baby!! Through shugendō, the path of training and testing, of trial and error and will to keep going!

Touge Oni is a lot about choice and willpower, carving your own path, the desires and ideologies and willpower and sentience of humans, how humans are both small vulnerable and insignificant on the scale of the cosmos and yet how such small beings can have so much impact and influence on the the world and their own fate— let us, then, be up and doing, with a heart for any fate. Miyo has changed the destiny the world thrusted upon her, herself bending time to change her own fate, Zen is determined to break his curse that’s stronger than gods and is already defying what should be dictating his life and behavior by acting upright and travelling with humans— humans are not divine but damn…… There’s something to us, isn’t there.

[vimbry]

me and the work girlies having socialist convos at the end of the day

[hauntingblue]

ACT 2 OVER LETSGOOOO

[seven-thewanderer]

This is something I did not expect to actually achieve

…but I’m about to get Shrimpo’s vintage skin

[elikajinnie]

Forbidden Taste - L.H

P: Slytherin!Heeseung X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Teasing, Hurt/Comfort, Suggestive Content, Angst, Misunderstandings, Jealousy, Myung Jaehyun Cameo, Incorrect Use Of Amortenia.

Synopsis: You’re not popular at Hogwarts, so why is Lee Heeseung, Slytherin royalty, so intent on having you? You don’t know, and you don’t question it—until jealousy and a pink potion threaten everything.

a/n: WHAT A JOURNEY IT HAS BEEN! Thank you all <3 all the members are now completed! (i changed the plot for this so many times, its insane)

want to read the other members? -> masterlist

--

You weren’t massively popular at Hogwarts, but people knew you. Not in the way that they’d scream your name in the corridors or seek you out during mealtimes, but enough that when your name came up in conversation, there’d be nods of recognition. Oh, yeah. Decent flyer. Smart enough to keep up in classes, but not obnoxious about it. You built your reputation in small, deliberate ways—early on, too. By the time you hit your third year, you realized it wasn’t just about house points or grades. If you didn’t carve out your place here, Hogwarts could chew you up and spit you out.

So, you made connections. Little alliances. You weren’t a name in bold letters, but you weren’t invisible either. A compliment here, a conversation there. Small, calculated acts of charm to ensure you weren’t just some shadow skulking through the hallways. Yet you never overdid it. Just enough to make sure you wouldn’t be forgotten.

And honestly, that was fine. You had your friends and housemates, the people who mattered to you most. The ones you could collapse with after a particularly grueling Potions lesson or laugh with over Butterbeer-flavored Bertie Bott’s Beans in the common room. It wasn’t the spotlight, but it was enough.

It’s weird how quickly that balance can shift, though. How one incident—one person—can flip everything upside down.

It really was funny—hilarious, even. You had no answer as to why he suddenly latched onto you, why he started pursuing you of all people. Lee fucking Heeseung. One of the most popular Slytherins in his year, practically Hogwarts royalty.

Usually, people would trip over their own feet for the chance to be seen with him. Heeseung had everything: pureblood lineage, one of the best Beaters Hogwarts had seen in years, a face straight out of Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Wizards list, and a charisma that could charm the scales off a dragon. He was smart, too—top of his classes in subjects he actually cared about—and everyone knew his family was filthy rich.

He was the kind of person others orbited around. Someone whose presence turned heads the moment he walked into a room. The kind of guy you were perfectly fine staying away from because people like him didn’t care about people like you. And yet, for some inexplicable reason, he chose you.

All because you ran into him one day.

It wasn’t even that dramatic of an encounter. You were late for Transfiguration, books piled in your arms, hurrying down the corridor like your life depended on it. And then—bam. You’d slammed into what felt like a brick wall. Except brick walls didn’t have arms that steadied you as your books tumbled to the floor, and they definitely didn’t have sharp jawlines and a gaze that pinned you to the spot.

“Sorry!” you’d muttered, scrambling to pick up your books, too flustered to even look him in the eye. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t throw out the kind of snarky insult Slytherins were known for. He just… watched you. And when you dashed off down the corridor, cheeks burning with embarrassment, you thought that was the end of it.

Except it wasn’t.

After that, Heeseung started showing up. Everywhere.

At first, it was subtle. A glance in the Great Hall that lingered too long to be coincidental. A smirk when you passed him in the corridors. Then it escalated. Sitting at your table in the library, asking casually about your Charms essay while his friends shot curious looks your way. Offering to walk you to class, claiming it was “on his way” even when it clearly wasn’t. Stealing a seat beside you in Herbology, leaning closer than necessary to peek at your notes.

It didn’t take long for people to notice. Whispers started following you wherever you went, growing louder with every interaction. Your friends pestered you for answers you didn’t have, and his admirers glared daggers at you from across the room.

And all you could think was, Why? Why you? Out of all the girls fawning over him—purebloods, Quidditch stars, girls far prettier and more polished than you—what on earth made Lee Heeseung decide you were worth his attention?

You tried convincing yourself that it was a joke. Some elaborate Slytherin prank that you’d accidentally wandered into. Any day now, you’d wake up to Heeseung laughing in your face, surrounded by his friends, as he revealed that all of this—every smirk, every casual wave, every time he leaned in close enough for you to catch a whiff of his expensive cologne—was just for his own entertainment.

But the days passed, and the teasing you braced yourself for never came. If anything, Heeseung’s attention only intensified.

“I could help you with that, you know,” he offered one day during a particularly grueling Potions class. You’d been furiously scribbling notes, trying to keep up with Professor Slughorn’s lecture. Heeseung was perched on the edge of your shared table, his hand propping up his chin as he watched you.

“With what?” you asked without looking up, determined not to let his lazy, amused tone fluster you.

“Your notes,” he said, gesturing at your parchment. “Your handwriting’s awful. What if you can’t read it later?”

You shot him a glare, but he just grinned. “I’ll manage,” you said, shoving your notes further away from him for good measure.

Moments like that became your new normal. Heeseung showing up uninvited, weaving himself into your day like he belonged there. Offering to help you study, sneaking your favorite dessert onto your plate in the Great Hall, throwing an arm around your shoulders like you were long-lost friends.

And yet, despite your initial resistance, you found yourself softening. Heeseung wasn’t as insufferable as you’d assumed he’d be. Sure, he was cocky—he wouldn’t be Lee Heeseung if he weren’t—but he also had this disarming charm about him. He listened when you spoke, remembered the little things you mentioned in passing, and had a way of making you laugh when you least expected it.

You acted normal around him—or at least, you tried to. You didn’t show how much he affected you, how your pulse quickened when he leaned in close, the playful smirk on his lips as he talked to you about some trivial thing. You didn’t let it show when he’d take your books without asking, holding them effortlessly with one hand as if they weighed nothing, and you definitely didn’t let him see how your cheeks burned when he casually brushed his fingers against yours as he handed them back.

You didn’t react when he helped you in Potions either, his voice low in your ear as he whispered which ingredients to add next, his breath warm against your skin. Even when your heart stuttered, you kept your face neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing just how much he got under your skin.

And Merlin, did he love to push.

He’d ditch his friends without a second thought, his usual crowd of Slytherins calling after him as he veered off to sit with you instead. You’d hear their muffled complaints from across the room, but Heeseung didn’t seem to care. He’d just flash them that infuriatingly perfect smile—the one that screamed, I know exactly what I’m doing,—and plop down next to you like he’d been there all along.

“Don’t you have other people to bother?” you’d mutter, barely glancing at him as he propped his chin on his hand, watching you with an intensity that made it impossible to focus on anything else.

“Why would I, when you’re so much more interesting?” he’d reply smoothly, the corners of his mouth tugging upward in a way that sent your stomach into an uninvited freefall.

But you didn’t give him the satisfaction of a blush or a flustered response. Instead, you’d roll your eyes and pretend to be annoyed, even as you caught yourself glancing at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

The truth was, Heeseung made it harder and harder to ignore him. He wasn’t just persistent—he was thoughtful in ways you didn’t expect. He remembered the tiniest details, like how you hated licorice wands or how you preferred studying in the library’s quieter corners. He went out of his way to make your day just a little easier, sliding your favorite pastries onto your plate at breakfast or swapping out your worn-out quills with brand-new ones from his bag.

It was infuriating. And endearing. And confusing.

Maybe it was the way he always seemed to know when you needed cheering up, or the way his voice softened when he spoke to you, or the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the room that mattered.

But you weren’t ready to admit it. Not to yourself, and definitely not to him. So, you kept acting normal, pretending like he didn’t affect you as much as he did.

At this point, even your friends couldn’t keep quiet about it. Every time Heeseung walked into a room and made a beeline for you, their eyebrows would raise a little higher. When he’d flash you one of his trademark grins or casually sling an arm around your shoulders, their teasing smirks were impossible to miss.

“So, are you two a thing, or what?” one of your friends finally asked during a late-night study session in the common room.

“No,” you said quickly, maybe a little too quickly, and their skeptical look said it all.

“Well, he certainly thinks you are,” another chimed in, grinning as they flipped through their Charms textbook. “You do realize half the school thinks you’re secretly dating, right?”

You rolled your eyes, brushing it off. “He’s just… like that. It’s probably some sort of game to him.”

But even as you said it, you weren’t so sure. Because if this was a game, Heeseung was playing it far too convincingly.

And then he went and completely blindsided you.

It was after Defense Against the Dark Arts, a class you shared with him. You’d just finished stuffing your notes into your bag, about to make your way to the library, when he appeared beside you, his usual confident grin plastered across his face.

“So,” he started casually, leaning against your desk. “Want to go to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

You froze, blinking at him like you hadn’t heard him properly. “What?”

“Hogsmeade,” he repeated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You. Me. A date.”

Your brain stuttered at the word. A date?

“You’re joking,” you said, though your voice sounded a little less confident than you would’ve liked.

“I’m not,” he said simply, tilting his head and watching you with that annoyingly earnest expression that made it impossible to tell if he was messing with you.

“I… I can’t,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks grow warm. “I mean, thank you, but I don’t think—”

“Don’t think too hard about it,” he interrupted smoothly, cutting off your attempt at a polite rejection. “I like you. You like me—don’t even try to deny it,” he added quickly, smirking when you opened your mouth to argue. “So why not give it a shot?”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Heeseung, I—”

“Before you say no,” he said, leaning in closer, “think about this. What’s the worst that could happen? You have a good time with me? Sounds like a pretty low-risk situation, if you ask me.”

It was infuriating how he made it sound so simple, like agreeing to a date with him wasn’t the most intimidating thing in the world.

“I’m serious, Heeseung,” you said, trying to sound firm. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“And I’m serious,” he countered, his voice dropping slightly. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

The way he said it wasn’t pushy or aggressive—it was confident, certain, like he already knew you were going to say yes eventually. And maybe that’s what threw you off the most.

You glanced at him one last time before turning to leave the classroom, your lips pressed into a tight line.

And of course, he followed.

“Hey, wait!” he called, his voice echoing down the corridor as you walked ahead, refusing to look back.

“I said no, Heeseung,” you said over your shoulder, quickening your pace.

“And I said I’m not taking no for an answer,” he shot back, his footsteps ringing louder as he hurried to catch up with you. “You didn’t even give me a proper reason!”

“I don’t need to give you a reason!” you replied, exasperated, keeping your gaze fixed forward.

But he wasn’t giving up. He was persistent—too persistent. You could hear him muttering under his breath, probably running through a list of arguments to convince you, but before he could get another word out, you heard a loud, unmistakable yelp.

Pausing mid-step, you turned just in time to see Heeseung stumble over a loose stone jutting out of the floor, his arms flailing to keep his balance. He caught himself at the last second, straightening up and brushing off his robes like nothing happened.

“Smooth,” you said, unable to stop the amused quirk of your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” he muttered, jogging a few steps to close the distance between you.

But the second he got close, you picked up your pace again, determined not to let him win.

He didn’t stop, though. Heeseung was like a particularly annoying shadow, trailing after you with single-minded determination. Except this shadow seemed to have the worst luck imaginable.

Not five steps later, you heard a startled “Hey, watch it!” from a much shorter Ravenclaw student as Heeseung nearly crashed into them.

“Yeah, yeah! Sorry!” he called over his shoulder, not even slowing down as he kept his focus on you.

You didn’t bother hiding your grin this time, though you kept walking.

And then, just as he was about to catch up again, you saw it—a ghost floating lazily through the corridor ahead.

“Heeseung,” you said without stopping, your tone almost warning.

“What?” he asked, completely oblivious, his gaze fixed on you instead of what was in front of him.

You didn’t answer. You just waited for it to happen.

Sure enough, he strode directly into the ghost—a particularly dramatic one, judging by the loud whoosh and Heeseung’s subsequent startled shiver as he stumbled back.

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, swiping at his robes as if it’d help.

“Maybe if you watched where you were going…” you said, finally stopping to face him, arms crossed over your chest as you raised an eyebrow.

He shook his head, his focus snapping back to you almost instantly. “I’ll watch where I’m going when you stop running away from me,” he said, his voice laced with determination.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could turn away again, he stepped closer, this time careful not to trip over anything or crash into anyone.

“Look,” he said, his tone softer now. “I know I’m being persistent. But it’s only because I really want you to say yes. Just one date. That’s all I’m asking. If you hate it, I’ll back off. But I think we’ll have a good time.”

For the first time, you hesitated. There was something about the way he looked at you—earnest, hopeful—that made it hard to brush him off like before. Heeseung wasn’t just being cocky now; he was being sincere. And it was that sincerity that made your resolve waver.

“One date,” he repeated, holding your gaze. “What do you say?”

You sighed, stopping long enough to turn and face him properly. His eyes were wide, his expression almost pleading but still holding that annoying confidence that made him, well, Heeseung.

“Fine,” you said, crossing your arms. “One date. But if I don’t enjoy it, that’s it. No more asking, no more following me around, no more…” You gestured vaguely toward him, “…whatever this is.”

His face broke into a grin so smug and victorious that you instantly regretted agreeing.

“Deal,” he said without hesitation. “But don’t worry, you’re going to love it.”

“Don’t push your luck,” you muttered, but the way his grin grew wider told you he’d already won this round.

“Alright, then,” he said, taking a step closer. Too close. You could feel the faintest brush of his robes against yours as he leaned in. “This Saturday, Three Broomsticks. Noon. I’ll even buy you Butterbeer.”

“Wow, how generous of you,” you deadpanned, but your heart was doing that annoying fluttering thing again.

“You’ll see,” he said, his voice dropping lower, teasing. “I’m full of surprises.”

Before you could fire back a snarky response, his hands moved, one settling on your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Your breath hitched.

You weren’t sure what he was saying—something about how the Three Broomsticks had the best treacle tart, or maybe how he’d already booked a spot with Madam Rosmerta—but the words blurred in your head. All you could focus on was his hand, warm and firm, holding you in place. And his body, so close to yours that you could feel the faint heat radiating off him.

Your mind raced, trying to decide if you should pull away or just let him keep talking.

“…don’t tell me you’ve never tried the cinnamon hot chocolate there,” he said, his lips curving into another grin.

“What?” you blurted, blinking up at him, trying to drag your attention back to his actual words.

He chuckled, the sound low and soft, and you hated how it made your stomach flip.

“You weren’t even listening,” he teased, his thumb brushing lightly against your waist before he pulled back, giving you just enough space to breathe again.

“Maybe if you weren’t so close, I’d be able to concentrate,” you shot back, though your voice came out a little weaker than you’d intended.

Heeseung didn’t look fazed. If anything, he looked even more pleased with himself, like he knew exactly how flustered you were and wasn’t planning to let you forget it anytime soon.

“Guess I’ll have to tell you on our date, then,” he said, stepping back fully now, his smirk still firmly in place.

You rolled your eyes, but your cheeks burned as you turned away, determined not to let him see just how much he was getting to you.

“Saturday,” he called after you as you started walking again, his tone light and cheerful. “Don’t forget!”

You didn’t answer, but you didn’t need to. The truth was, no matter how much you tried to deny it, you knew you wouldn’t forget. Not with the way your heart was still racing.

Saturday came faster than you expected, and by the time you were standing in front of the Three Broomsticks, you were already second-guessing your decision. Why did you agree to this again? Oh, right—because Heeseung was annoyingly persistent, and some traitorous part of you was curious to see what a date with him would actually be like.

You adjusted your scarf, the chill of the winter air biting at your cheeks. The sound of chatter and clinking glasses spilled out of the tavern, and for a brief moment, you considered turning around and pretending you’d forgotten. But before you could so much as take a step back, a familiar voice called out behind you.

“You’re early.”

You turned to see Heeseung approaching, dressed in his usual green-and-silver scarf, his black coat tailored perfectly to him. His hair was slightly tousled from the wind, and he wore that same confident smile that made your stomach twist in ways you wished it wouldn’t.

“I’m on time,” you corrected, crossing your arms.

“Early, on time—same thing,” he said, coming to a stop in front of you. His eyes scanned you briefly, and for a second, you thought you saw something softer in his expression. “You look good.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you immediately regretted your decision to wear something classy. “Don’t start,” you muttered, brushing past him toward the door.

He laughed, catching up to you easily. “What? It’s a compliment!”

“Yeah, yeah.” You pushed open the door, grateful for the wave of warmth that greeted you as you stepped inside.

The Three Broomsticks was busy, as it always was on weekends, but Heeseung didn’t seem the least bit fazed. He waved to Madam Rosmerta, who greeted him like they were old friends, and led you to a small table near the window that had somehow been left open.

“See?” he said, pulling out a chair for you. “Perfect spot.”

You hesitated for a moment before sitting down, mumbling a quiet, “Thanks,” as he slid into the seat across from you.

For a few moments, it was quiet—well, as quiet as it could be in the bustling tavern. You busied yourself with looking out the window, watching as students milled about in the snow-covered streets of Hogsmeade.

“So,” Heeseung said, breaking the silence. “What’s your go-to order here?”

You glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you care?”

“Because,” he said with a grin, leaning forward slightly, “I want to make sure you actually enjoy this date. Remember? You said if you didn’t, I couldn’t ask again.”

“Still sticking to that, by the way,” you reminded him.

“Noted,” he said, looking far too amused for your liking. “But I’m confident you’ll have a good time.”

“Of course you are,” you muttered, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

You ended up ordering Butterbeer and treacle tart—not because you particularly wanted it, but because he wouldn’t stop raving about it earlier that week.

When the drinks and food arrived, the conversation started off slow, but much to your surprise, it wasn’t awkward. Heeseung had a way of keeping things light and entertaining.

And, annoyingly, he kept making you laugh.

After you finished at the Three Broomsticks, Heeseung didn’t let the day end there. Instead, he insisted on taking you around Hogsmeade, claiming it was his duty to make sure you had the full experience.

“This isn’t my first time here, you know,” you said as he led you down the cobblestone streets, passing shop after shop.

“Yeah, but it’s your first time here with me,” he countered, flashing you that same cocky grin that had you rolling your eyes for the tenth time that day.

Still, you didn’t protest when he pulled you into Honeydukes, pointing out his favorite candies and piling a small bag with sweets you hadn’t even asked for. “It’s on me,” he said when you tried to argue, waving you off like it was nothing.

Next, he dragged you to Zonko’s, where he spent far too much time marveling over the prank items and showing you his favorites with the enthusiasm of a first-year discovering the place for the first time. You couldn’t help but smile as he rattled off stories of the chaos he’d caused with them in the Slytherin common room.

And then, just as you were debating whether or not to call it a day, it started snowing.

Soft, delicate flakes drifted down from the sky, blanketing the streets and rooftops in a thin layer of white. The air grew quieter, the hustle and bustle of Hogsmeade fading into the background as people paused to take in the sight.

You stopped walking, tilting your head back slightly to watch the snow fall. For a moment, you forgot about Heeseung entirely, your mind quieting as you focused on the tiny snowflakes melting against your skin.

When you finally looked back at him, he was staring at you.

“What?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He didn’t answer right away, his eyes soft as they searched your face. Finally, he said, “You.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What about me?”

“You’re just…” He trailed off, taking a step closer. His voice was quieter now, more serious. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

Your breath caught in your throat, and before you could even think of how to respond, he closed the space between you, his hand gently reaching for your scarf.

You stood frozen as he adjusted it carefully, his fingers brushing against your neck as he tightened it slightly to block out the cold. His touch was warm, his movements unhurried, and when he was finished, his hands lingered for just a second longer than necessary.

“There,” he said softly, his gaze meeting yours again. “Wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

You felt your cheeks grow warm, and it wasn’t from the weather. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered, but your voice lacked its usual bite.

“And yet, you’re still here with me,” he teased, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You didn’t respond, turning your gaze back to the falling snow. But as Heeseung slipped his hand into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, you didn’t pull away, cause you didn’t feel the need to fight him.

The rest of the walk through Hogsmeade passed in a comfortable silence, your hands still entwined as the snow continued to fall around you. You didn’t know how Heeseung managed to make it feel so… easy. Like holding hands with him was something you’d been doing for years. Like the tension that had built between you over the past weeks had melted away as quickly as the snowflakes on his coat.

He led you to the outskirts of the village, where the streets grew quieter, and the noise of other students faded into the background. The path was lined with trees dusted in white, their bare branches glistening under the faint light of the afternoon sun.

“It’s nice out here,” you murmured, your breath visible in the crisp air.

“Yeah,” Heeseung said, but when you glanced at him, you realized he wasn’t looking at the trees or the snow-covered landscape. He was looking at you again.

“What?” you asked, your voice softer now, a little less defensive.

He shrugged, his lips curling into that small, genuine smile you were starting to recognize—the one he didn’t use often, the one that wasn’t for show. “Nothing. Just… you seem different today.”

“Different?”

“Yeah,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly against the back of your hand. “Less scary.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. “I’m not scary.”

“Tell that to everyone else who’s too afraid to talk to you.”

“Maybe I just don’t like wasting my time,” you said, smirking up at him.

“Well, lucky me, then,” he replied, his tone teasing. “You must think I’m worth it.”

Before you could say anything, though, he stopped walking, turning to face you fully. His free hand reached up to brush a stray snowflake from your hair, and you froze at the tenderness of the gesture.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he said, his voice low, his gaze steady on yours.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “You keep saying things like that,” you mumbled, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably.

“Because I mean it,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

And then, before you could overthink it, he leaned in—not too fast, not too slow. Just enough to give you time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t.

The kiss was soft, warm, and fleeting, like a snowflake landing on your lips and melting before you could fully feel it. When he pulled back, his face was close enough that you could still feel his breath against your skin.

“I’ll take that as a yes to a second date,” he murmured, his tone teasing but his eyes holding that same sincerity that had caught you off guard from the start.

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, so you just rolled your eyes and tugged him along, back toward the village.

But the small smile on your face told him everything he needed to know.

As you and Heeseung continued down the snowy path, oblivious to everything else around you, neither of you noticed the three figures hidden just out of sight, watching your every move. They stood together, concealed by the shadow of the trees, their eyes trained on the way you and Heeseung interacted, the way your hands fit together so naturally.

It didn’t take long for the bitterness to fester. One of them, a girl with dark brown hair and a scowl that could cut glass, clenched her fists at her sides, watching the way Heeseung smiled at you, how easily he made you laugh.

"Of course she’s with him," she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with venom. "She always has to go after what’s not hers."

Beside her, another figure—taller, with blonde hair—narrowed her eyes at the scene. "We’ve all been trying for years. Why her? What makes her so special?" Her voice was low, barely controlled, and her gaze burned with resentment.

The third figure, a quieter one, with sharp eyes and a calculating expression, stood back, observing the situation silently. She was still for a moment before she spoke, her voice calm but filled with hidden malice. "Maybe it's time we remind him who belongs by his side."

The girl with the dark hair stepped forward, fists still clenched, the fire in her eyes growing. "Let’s see if we can’t change his mind."

They lingered in the shadows, watching as Heeseung pulled you closer, speaking in soft tones that made your smile widen. The sight of the two of you together twisted in their hearts, their jealousy and rage bubbling over. They knew that this wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

None of you could have predicted what would happen next.

--

The next few days were a blur of contentment. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this happy, or this at ease. Heeseung had truly surpassed every expectation you’d set for him. He was everything you didn’t know you needed in a boyfriend—gentle when you were stressed, confident when you were unsure, and always there to make you smile, even on your worst days.

When you studied together in the library, he’d always find ways to make learning feel less like a chore. Whether it was cracking jokes during boring Potions readings or helping you with Transfiguration, his presence made even the most tedious subjects bearable. And when you were working on homework together in the common room, you’d catch him looking over at you, that amused glint in his eye as if he couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you.

You’d even gone to his Quidditch match that weekend, which turned into one of the most exciting games you’d ever watched. Heeseung had played brilliantly, his focus unshakable as he zoomed around the pitch, expertly dodging Bludgers and scoring goal after goal.

When the match ended, with Slytherin emerging victorious, Heeseung found you in the stands, grinning widely as he jogged over to you.

“Good game?” you teased, unable to contain the excitement in your voice.

Heeseung shrugged, feigning modesty. "You know, I couldn’t have done it without my good luck charm."

Your heart fluttered as he slipped his Slytherin Quidditch jersey over your head, his hands lingering on your shoulders just a little longer than necessary. "This is for you," he said, his voice low but playful. “You made me win.”

You blinked, looking down at the jersey, which was too big for you but somehow made you feel like you were wearing a piece of him. “I didn’t do anything—”

“Yeah, but you were there," he interrupted, his fingers lightly brushing your cheek as he grinned. “That’s all I needed.”

But Heeseung had one problem—he never knew when to stop kissing. An innocent kiss shared with you would quickly turn into something far more passionate, the kind of kiss that left you breathless, with your heart racing in your chest. His lips would press against yours, and before you knew it, he’d pull you even closer, deepening the kiss with a soft but urgent intensity.

His hands would find their way to your waist, tugging gently as he pulled you closer, and you couldn’t help but melt into him. His kisses weren’t just kisses—they were all-consuming, leaving you dizzy.

It wasn’t long before his hair would become messy, stray locks falling into his eyes as he kissed you with that playful but determined energy. By the time you pulled apart, your lips would be sore, swollen from his insistence. And your neck? Covered with small, dark marks—hickeys left behind as reminders of every moment he couldn’t quite control himself around you.

But the world wasn’t fair to you.

One day, everything changed. You had walked up to Heeseung, as you did every day, eager to see him after class, to share a laugh, maybe steal a quick kiss. But when you rounded the corner, you froze.

There, in the hallway, Heeseung was kissing a Slytherin girl—her hands tangled in his hair, his arms wrapped around her in a way that was so familiar, so intimate, that it felt like a punch to your chest.

Your breath caught in your throat, your body frozen in place, as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. The warmth of his kisses, the tenderness you thought was reserved for you, was now being given to someone else.

And when Heeseung finally pulled away from her, noticing you standing there, your heart shattered.

He didn’t even look surprised to see you. His eyes met yours, cold and indifferent. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice flat.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t breathe. You felt as though the ground had been ripped from beneath you, leaving you dangling in the air, completely lost.

Then, the words you never expected to hear came tumbling from his mouth.

“I never had feelings for you,” he said, his tone casual, almost dismissive. “I never loved you.”

Your world tilted. The person you had trusted, the one who had made you feel special, had never felt the same. All those moments meant nothing. They were nothing but lies.

The pain surged through you like a tidal wave. You felt your chest constrict, your eyes stinging with the heat of unshed tears. Your voice broke as you screamed at him, “How could you? After everything?!”

But it didn’t matter. He didn’t care.

The girl with him—her smirk stretched wide, malicious and triumphant—stepped closer to Heeseung, hanging off his arm like she had every right to be there. Her eyes flicked to you, cold and triumphant, as if she reveled in your pain.

You didn’t even recognize the version of Heeseung standing before you. The boy you thought you knew—the one who had held you like you were everything to him—was gone. In his place was someone who didn’t care at all.

You turned on your heel, running away before the tears could spill. Your heart was breaking with every step, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him, at them. You didn’t want to see the cruel smirk on her face, or the emptiness in his eyes.

You were heartbroken, yes, but beneath the sorrow was a rising tide of anger—burning, raw, and uncontrollable. How could Heeseung break your heart like that? After everything, after acting like you were the only woman in his life, like you were the one he couldn’t live without?

The memories played on a loop in your mind, tormenting you. The way he would pull you close and whisper that you were perfect for him. The way he’d laugh at your jokes, even the bad ones, and say that you made his days better.

It had all been a lie.

You paced the empty corridor, your thoughts spiraling into a storm of hurt and rage. Your fists clenched at your sides as tears streaked down your face. You wanted to scream, to cry, to find him and demand answers. How could someone who seemed so perfect turn out to be so cruel?

The image of him kissing that girl was seared into your mind, taunting you. The way she had smirked at you, so smug and triumphant, like she’d won some twisted game. The way Heeseung had looked at you—not with the warmth and love you were used to, but with indifference, as if you had been nothing but a fleeting amusement.

The days after that were some of the hardest you’d ever endured. You refused to let Heeseung see how much he had broken you, refused to let him or anyone else know how deeply his betrayal had cut. Instead, you buried your pain beneath a carefully crafted mask. You laughed with your friends, answered questions in class, and even managed to pull off smiles in the Great Hall. To everyone else, it was like nothing had happened.

But when you were alone, the mask slipped, and the weight of it all came crashing down. The nights were the worst, when you lay in bed replaying the moment over and over, like a cruel, inescapable nightmare. The sound of his words—I never loved you—echoed in your mind, shredding your heart all over again.

One afternoon, during Potions class, the pain overwhelmed you. Heeseung had walked in, all casual as if nothing had happened. He didn’t look your way—not even once—but that didn’t stop the memory of his betrayal from stabbing at your chest.

Your hands shook as you measured out ingredients for your potion, your vision blurring as hot tears threatened to spill. You couldn’t take it anymore. Quietly excusing yourself, you fled the classroom, muttering something about needing the restroom before anyone could stop you.

The moment you stepped into the dimly lit bathroom, the tears you’d been holding back came rushing out. You leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as sobs wracked your body.

You didn’t even notice Moaning Myrtle until her soft voice broke through your cries.

“Rough day?”

Startled, you looked up, your tear-streaked face meeting the ghost’s translucent figure. She was floating by one of the sinks, her usual pout replaced with something almost... sympathetic.

You sniffled, quickly wiping your face. “Sorry, Myrtle. I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Myrtle shook her head, hovering closer. “You’re not disturbing me,” she said quietly. “I know what it’s like to cry in here. To feel... forgotten.”

Her words hit you harder than you expected. For once, she wasn’t mocking you or complaining about her own misfortunes. She was just... there, watching you with a sadness in her ghostly eyes that mirrored your own pain.

“I just don’t get it,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “How could someone say they cared and then... and then throw it all away like it meant nothing?”

Myrtle tilted her head, her gaze softening even more. “Boys are awful,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone holding a mix of understanding and bitterness. “They make you feel special, and then they break you."

You let out a shaky laugh, though it was more bitter than anything else. “Yeah, well, he’s the worst of them.”

Myrtle floated closer, hovering just beside you as you leaned over the sink, your tears falling freely now,and she stayed there, silently watching as you poured your heart out in the empty bathroom.

When you finally wiped your face and straightened up, Myrtle gave you a small, sad smile. “He’s not worth it,” she said softly.

You nodded, your throat too tight to speak, and with a final glance at your tear-streaked reflection, you left the bathroom.

--

You kept watching hopelessly as Heeseung changed right before your eyes. Despite being a Slytherin, he’d always been different—sharp, confident, but never cruel. He treated others with respect, even when it wasn’t expected of him, and it was one of the reasons people gravitated toward him so easily.

But now… now he wasn’t the same.

You started noticing it in small things at first. He’d snap at younger students who accidentally got in his way, barking out insults that made their faces crumple in embarrassment. He’d push past others in the corridors with an air of arrogance that felt alien, not sparing them a glance or apology.

Then, it became more deliberate. In Potions, you overheard him taunting a Gryffindor girl for botching her assignment, his words dripping with disdain. During Quidditch practice, he shouted at his teammates with a venom you’d never seen before, his frustration palpable even from the stands.

It didn’t just confuse you—it confused everyone.

Heeseung had always been popular, not just because of his looks or his Quidditch skills, but because he was charismatic. He had a way of making others feel comfortable, seen, and valued, even if they weren’t in his social circle. But now, that warmth was gone.

You overheard students whispering about him. “What’s gotten into Heeseung?” one Ravenclaw asked her friend as they passed you in the hallway. “He’s acting like a total git lately.”

“I know,” her friend agreed. “He’s not like this. It’s so weird.”

And it was weird. Heeseung wasn’t like this. He wasn’t the type to knock books out of a first-year’s hands and keep walking, or to purposely humiliate someone in front of their peers just to get a laugh. But that was exactly what he was doing now, and every time you saw it, you felt that ache in your chest grow deeper.

What had changed?

You wanted to convince yourself it didn’t matter anymore. He wasn’t your problem. He had made that clear when he kissed someone else and shattered your heart in the process. But as much as you tried to turn a blind eye, you couldn’t.

This wasn’t just about you anymore.

Heeseung’s behavior was affecting everyone, and the boy who had once made you laugh until your sides hurt was now someone you barely recognized. Watching him spiral like this hurt more than you cared to admit.

But the question remained: why? What had turned him into this unknown version of himself?

The answer to that question was revealed to you one day, completely by accident.

You were on your way to your common room, distracted as you dug through your bag, mentally ticking off the homework you still had to finish. You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings, not until someone grabbed your arm and yanked you into an empty classroom.

You yelped, stumbling as you turned to face your captor. “What the—”

A Slytherin girl stood before you, her wide eyes darting nervously toward the door, as though she was afraid of being followed or heard. She placed a finger to her lips, hushing you before you could finish your sentence.

“What is your problem?” you hissed, yanking your arm out of her grip.

“Shh!” she insisted, glancing toward the corridor one last time before shutting the door behind her. Her actions were suspicious, like she was about to do something she wasn’t supposed to.

You crossed your arms, glaring at her. “Care to explain why you just dragged me in here?”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You’re Heeseung`s girlfriend.”

The mention of his name immediately sent a pang through your chest, but you held your ground. “Was,” you corrected sharply. “Not anymore.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Look, I don’t have a lot of time, so just listen. Heeseung’s not himself.”

You frowned, your skepticism evident. “I’m aware of that. Thanks for pointing out the obvious.”

“No, you don’t get it.” She leaned in, her expression serious. “He’s not himself because he’s under the influence of Amortentia.”

The words hit you like a slap, leaving you momentarily speechless. “What?”

She nodded, her voice urgent now. “That girl—Yoonhee—she’s been dosing him with Amortentia for weeks. That’s why he’s been acting so different.”

Your heart raced as you processed her words, disbelief swirling in your mind. “You’re lying,” you said, your voice trembling. “Why would she do that?”

The Slytherin girl let out a humorless laugh. “Why do you think? She wanted him, and she didn’t care how she got him. But it’s not just about making him fall for her. She’s using the potion to influence him, to turn him into someone else. She’s controlling him, and you’ve seen the result.”

Your mind reeled as the pieces began to fall into place. The sudden change in Heeseung’s personality, the cruelty, the way he’d dismissed you so coldly—all of it made a sick kind of sense now.

“She’s dangerous,” the girl continued. “And if someone doesn’t stop her, Heeseung’s going to be completely lost.”

You stared at her, your emotions a whirlwind of anger, confusion, and disbelief. “Why are you telling me this?”

She hesitated, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Because it’s wrong. I thought about staying out of it, but Heeseung doesn’t deserve this. And... neither do you.”

Your fists clenched at your sides as rage surged through you. The betrayal you had felt from Heeseung was now redirected toward Yoonhee, the girl who had manipulated him, stolen his free will, and shattered your heart in the process.

If this was true, then Yoonhee had taken everything from you—and from him.

You took a deep breath, meeting the girl’s gaze. “How do I stop her?”

The Slytherin girl’s lips pressed into a thin line before she said, “I’ll help you, but we have to act fast. The longer she keeps him under her control, the harder it’ll be to break him free.”

You suddenly narrowed your eyes, crossing your arms. “And how do I know I can trust you?”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. “Look, I get why you’d be suspicious, but I don’t have anything to gain from this. I’m only telling you because…” She hesitated, looking almost embarrassed before continuing. “Because I’ve seen how Heeseung was with you. And then I’ve seen him with Yoonhee. And it’s not the same.”

Her voice softened as she spoke, her gaze meeting yours. “What you and Heeseung had—it was real. It was... cute, even. He was different when he was with you. Like he couldn’t stop looking at you, like you were the only thing that mattered. I swear, he practically had hearts in his eyes whenever you were around.”

Your heart clenched at her words, the image of Heeseung’s affectionate smile flashing in your mind.

“But with Yoonhee?” she continued, her tone sharp. “It’s fake. Everything about it feels wrong. He doesn’t look at her the way he looked at you. There’s no warmth, no care. It’s like... like he’s just going through the motions, like a puppet on strings. And the way she parades him around, acting like she owns him—it’s sick.”

Her voice grew quieter, tinged with guilt. “I should have said something sooner. I should’ve stopped it when I first realized what she was doing. But I didn’t, and now things have gone too far. I just... I couldn’t keep watching it anymore.”

You studied her face, searching for any sign of deception, but all you saw was genuine regret.

“You really think what we had was real?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded firmly. “I know it was. Anyone with eyes could see it. Heeseung doesn’t look at anyone the way he looked at you. And if you still care about him, even after everything, then you need to help him. Because what Yoonhee’s doing? It’s not love. It’s control. And it’s destroying him.”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “Okay. I’ll help. But if this turns out to be some kind of trick…”

“It’s not,” she said quickly, her eyes steady and resolute. “I promise.”

“Good,” you said, squaring your shoulders. “Because if she thinks she can get away with this, she’s dead wrong.”

After speaking with Hyejin who had revealed everything—you went straight to the library, your mind set on one thing: finding an antidote to Amortentia.

You scoured the shelves, your fingers brushing over the spines of dusty Potions books, each title longer and more complicated than the last. "Advanced Alchemical Properties of Magical Infusions," "The Elusive Art of Potionmaking," "Rare Remedies and Their Applications"—none of them seemed to promise the straightforward answers you were hoping for.

Potions had never been your strong suit, and as you flipped through yet another heavy tome filled with convoluted instructions and obscure ingredients, you groaned in frustration.

Why did Potions have to be so complicated? Couldn’t it be more like Herbology—straightforward, clear, and easy to follow? You were confident you could have whipped up a solution in no time if that were the case. But instead, you were drowning in endless jargon about precise stirring techniques, moon phase timings, and ingredient substitutions.

And the worst part? Heeseung had always been the one to help you when Potions overwhelmed you. His natural skill in the subject had been your saving grace more times than you could count, and the irony wasn’t lost on you that now, when you needed help the most, he was the one you were trying to save.

After what felt like hours of fruitless searching, you let out another groan, slamming the book in front of you shut. “Why are there so many books on Potions?” you muttered under your breath. “Why can’t this be simple? Just a page with ‘Amortentia antidote’ in big bold letters—how hard would that be?”

You stared at the pile of books in front of you, exhaustion creeping in as you realized just how out of your depth you were. You needed help, and you needed it fast. But who could you turn to? Heeseung was out of the question, and you didn’t trust Hyejin enough to rely on her completely.

You racked your brain, thinking of anyone who might have the skill and knowledge to guide you. Your mind flashed to someone unexpected—someone you hadn’t considered at first but who might be your best shot.

Professor Slughorn.

He wasn’t exactly your favorite teacher, but he was an expert in Potions, and if anyone could point you in the right direction, it was him. The problem was convincing him to help without spilling the entire truth. After all, you couldn’t exactly admit that a student was brewing and using Amortentia without risking expulsion for everyone involved.

Still, you didn’t have many options. If you couldn’t find the answer here, then you’d have to take the risk and ask for guidance.

You were just about to leave the library, your mind still swirling with frustration, when you collided with someone. The impact sent you stumbling back a step, your bag nearly slipping from your shoulder.

“Oh! Sorry about that!” you said quickly, steadying yourself.

“No, no, it’s my fault,” the other person replied, their voice warm and apologetic.

When you looked up, you were surprised to find yourself face-to-face with Myung Jaehyun, a Gryffindor student. You didn’t know him particularly well, but you knew of him—he had a reputation for excelling in Potions, often earning praise from Professor Slughorn.

The proverbial light bulb practically lit up over your head as an idea struck you. Jaehyun could help.

You smiled, stepping closer to him, which made Jaehyun’s cheeks flush slightly. He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze for a moment. “Um... something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” you said, your tone light and friendly. “Actually, I was just thinking... you’re good at Potions, right?”

He nodded. “I guess? I mean, yeah, I’ve always done well in class. Why?”

“Well,” you said slowly, leaning in slightly, “I was wondering if you could help me with something. It’s just a tiny matter, really.”

Jaehyun blinked, clearly intrigued. “Uh, sure. What do you need?”

“I’m looking for a book,” you explained. “One that has information about antidotes for Amortentia.”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Amortentia?”

You nodded, trying to keep your expression casual. “Yeah. I, uh... just need to look up something for a project.”

Jaehyun seemed to consider this for a moment before his face lit up. “Oh! I know exactly what you need.” He walked over to a nearby shelf, scanning the rows of books with practiced ease before pulling one out. He handed it to you, flipping it open to the right chapter. “Here. Chapter 14, page 237. It has a detailed section on love potions.”

You took the book from him, relief flooding through you. “Thank you so much, Jaehyun. This is exactly what I needed.”

Jaehyun hesitated for a moment, then cleared his throat. “If you want... I could help you with the brewing process. It’s tricky, and, well, I’ve done similar antidotes before.”

You practically jumped at the offer, your enthusiasm catching him off guard. “Really? You’d help me?”

“Of course,” he said, smiling shyly. “When do you want to start?”

“As soon as possible,” you said quickly. “This is kind of... urgent.”

“Alright,” Jaehyun agreed, his smile growing more confident. “Let’s meet in the Potions classroom after dinner. I’ll bring the ingredients we’ll need.”

You nodded, clutching the book tightly. “Thank you, Jaehyun. Really. You’re a lifesaver.”

He rubbed the back of his neck again, his blush returning. “It’s no problem. I’m happy to help.”

With a grateful smile, you hurried out of the library. You finally had a plan—and someone to help you execute it.

After dinner, you made your way to the Potions classroom, your nerves buzzing. As you stepped inside, you saw Jaehyun already at one of the workbenches, his sleeves rolled up and his hands deftly working.

When he noticed you, he offered a small smile and gestured for you to sit next to him.

“You’re early,” you said, setting your bag down on the bench.

“Wanted to get a head start,” Jaehyun replied, his voice warm. “I figured the quicker we get this done, the better.”

You nodded, settling into the chair beside him. As you looked around the dimly lit classroom, a thought occurred to you. “Is it even okay for us to be here after class hours?”

Jaehyun chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t worry. Professor Slughorn lets me stay after hours pretty often. He says it’s good-spirited of me to practice brewing and experiment.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Good-spirited, huh? That’s... surprisingly nice of him.”

Jaehyun shrugged, still focused on grinding the ingredients in front of him. “He’s not so bad. As long as you don’t blow up the classroom, he’s pretty lenient.”

You laughed lightly at that, feeling a bit of the tension in your chest ease. As Jaehyun began measuring out a vial of liquid and carefully adding it to the cauldron, you watched him work.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked, not wanting to just sit idly.

He glanced at you, his eyes crinkling slightly in a smile. “Sure. Can you chop those gurdyroots? They need to be sliced thinly—about this size.” He held up a perfectly cut piece as an example.

“Got it,” you said, grabbing a knife and the roots. You carefully started cutting, doing your best to match the size Jaehyun had shown you.

Occasionally, Jaehyun would give you instructions or correct something you were doing, his tone always patient and encouraging.

“You’re doing great,” he said at one point, glancing over at your neatly sliced gurdyroots. “I might have to recruit you as my brewing partner from now on.”

You snorted. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself. Potions and I have a... complicated relationship.”

Jaehyun laughed, his warm, boyish chuckle filling the room. “Well, you’re doing fine tonight. Just keep that up.”

The antidote was slowly coming together, the cauldron emitting a faint shimmer as the ingredients combined.

“Do you think this will work?” you asked softly after a while, watching the potion swirl in the cauldron.

Jaehyun looked at you, his expression serious yet kind. “If we follow the instructions exactly, it should. Potions like this are tricky, but I’m confident we can pull it off. And if something goes wrong, we’ll try again.”

His reassurance eased some of your worry, and you nodded. “Thank you, Jaehyun. I mean it. You didn’t have to help me, but you are.”

He shrugged modestly, his cheeks tinged pink. “It’s nothing. Besides, it’s kind of nice working on something like this with someone else for a change.”

You smiled at that, feeling a bit lighter for the first time in days.

After some time the potion was finally done. The cauldron shimmered with a silvery glow, and Jaehyun carefully ladled some of the antidote into a small flask. He corked it tightly and handed it to you, his smile warm but cautious.

“Here,” he said, placing it gently in your hands.

You stared at the flask, relief flooding through you. “Thank you, Jaehyun,” you said, looking up at him with a grateful smile. Without thinking, you leaned in and hugged him tightly.

Jaehyun stiffened for a moment, clearly caught off guard, but quickly relaxed and awkwardly patted your back. “You don’t have to thank me. Really.”

“I do,” you said, pulling back and clutching the flask to your chest. “I owe you one. Big time.”

Before he could respond, you turned and hurried out of the classroom, determination burning in your chest.

The Great Hall was buzzing with the usual hum of students talking and studying. You scanned the room until your eyes landed on Hyejin, sitting at a corner table with books and parchment spread out in front of her. She looked like she was drowning in notes, a quill tucked behind her ear as she scribbled furiously.

You approached her, sliding into the seat across from her. She glanced up, her brow furrowed in confusion until she saw the flask in your hand.

“You’ve got it?” she asked, her eyes widening slightly.

You nodded, setting the flask on the table between you. “I’ve got the solution. Literally.”

Hyejin’s tense expression softened, and she let out a small sigh of relief. “That’s good. Really good.”

You noticed her Herbology textbook then, along with her chaotic notes. The scribbled diagrams of plants and ingredients were barely legible, and she had several crossed-out answers on her parchment. She caught you looking and groaned, slumping back in her chair.

“Don’t judge me. Herbology is not my strong suit,” she muttered, rubbing her temples.

“Do you need help?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hyejin gave a humorless laugh. “Desperately. Professor Sprout’s quizzes are impossible, and if I don’t pass the next one, I’m doomed.”

Smiling, you reached into your bag and pulled out your own Herbology notes. “Here. These might help.”

Her eyes widened as she saw the neat, color-coded pages you laid in front of her. “Oh my God, you’re an angel,” she said dramatically, grabbing them like they were a lifeline.

You laughed, leaning over to point out some of the key points. “Okay, this section on Venomous Tentacula—just remember that its sap is only dangerous when exposed to direct sunlight. Write that down.”

“Thank you,” Hyejin said softly after a while, looking up from her notes. “For this. And... for everything else.”

“You’ve already done plenty to help me,” you replied with a small smile. “It’s the least I can do.”

--

The next day, you sat on your bed, nervously fiddling with the hem of your robes. The weight of what was about to happen pressed heavily on your chest. You had given the antidote to Hyejin that morning, entrusting her with the task of breaking the spell that had bound Heeseung to Yoonhee. She’d reassured you with a confident smile that she could slip the potion into his drink during lunch, all without raising suspicion.

You could have been there yourself to witness it. You could have stood nearby, watching from the shadows to make sure everything went as planned. But the truth was, you were scared—terrified, even.

You couldn’t face Heeseung. Not now. Not after everything that had happened. What if the antidote didn’t work? What if he still didn’t feel anything for you, even after the spell was broken? What if... what if he hated you?

The thoughts spiraled in your mind as you sat there, staring at the wall of your dormitory. You felt ridiculous for being so anxious, but the idea of seeing him again, of looking into his eyes and not knowing what you’d find there, was almost too much to bear.

So you’d chosen to wait. To stay here, in the safety of your room, and let Hyejin handle it. She’d promised to relay everything to you afterward, and you trusted her.

A soft knock at the door startled you out of your thoughts.

“It’s just me,” your roommate said, poking her head inside. “You okay? You’ve been in here all morning.”

You nodded quickly, forcing a smile. “Yeah, just... not feeling great today. I think I’ll skip lunch.”

She gave you a sympathetic look before leaving, and you sighed in relief once the door closed again.

The waiting was unbearable. Minutes felt like hours as you sat there, your mind playing out every possible scenario. You tried to distract yourself by flipping through a book, but the words blurred together on the page.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, there was a knock at the door again—this time more urgent.

You jumped up, your heart racing as you opened it to find Hyejin standing there, slightly out of breath.

“It’s done,” she said simply, stepping inside and closing the door behind her.

You stared at her, your throat suddenly dry. “And? Did it work?”

Hyejin nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It worked. I saw it in his eyes the moment the potion broke. Heeseung... he looked so confused at first, like he didn’t know where he was or what was happening. But then Yoonhee tried to cling to him, and he pushed her away.”

Your breath hitched. “He did?”

“Yeah. And he asked her what she’d done to him. She tried to play innocent, but you could tell she was panicking. I don’t think anyone else noticed—it wasn’t exactly a scene—but Heeseung wasn’t buying her act. He left pretty quickly after that, though. I think he needed time to process everything.”

You sank back onto your bed, your mind reeling. Relief, hope, and dread all swirled together in your chest. Heeseung was free. He was finally free.

But now what?

Hyejin sat beside you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Give him some time,” she said softly, as if reading your thoughts. “He’s going to come looking for you. I’m sure of it.”

You nodded, your hands trembling slightly as you gripped the edge of your bed. All you could do now was wait—and hope that when Heeseung finally found you, the boy you’d fallen for was still there, waiting for you too.

You didn’t leave your room for days. The sick, uncomfortable feeling in your body refused to go away. It was as if the weight of everything—your heartbreak, the fear—had finally caught up to you, pinning you to your bed and draining you of energy.

Your housemates noticed. They brought you food, their class notes, and even small trinkets to cheer you up, but nothing seemed to work. You mumbled thanks to them, forced weak smiles when they tried to joke, but the truth was, you felt numb.

Hyejin came by often, sitting on the edge of your bed and filling you in on everything happening outside the confines of your room.

“Yoonhee got caught,” she said one afternoon, her tone tinged with satisfaction. “Slughorn found out she’d been brewing Amortentia, and she’s been given detention for weeks. There’s even talk about revoking her Hogsmeade privileges for the rest of the year.”

You managed a faint smile at that. “Good. She deserves it.”

Hyejin nodded firmly. “She does. And honestly, people are starting to avoid her now. Her little group of friends isn’t as tight as it used to be. Guess that’s what happens when everyone finds out you’ve been manipulating someone with a love potion.”

Your smile faded as the conversation shifted to Heeseung.

“And... Heeseung,” Hyejin started carefully, watching your reaction. “He’s been... different.”

You stiffened slightly but said nothing, letting her continue.

“He’s been asking about you. Like, constantly. He’s desperate to find you. I think he’s even checked the library three times in one day,” she said with a small laugh, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “He’s back to being... well, himself. But he looks miserable, and honestly, he’s really worried about you.”

Your chest tightened. You wanted to feel relieved, but instead, the sick feeling only deepened. You hated how much you still cared, how even hearing about Heeseung made your heart twist painfully.

“I don’t know, Hyejin,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “I just… I can’t see him right now.”

Hyejin sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your hand. “I get it. I do. Take all the time you need. Just... don’t shut yourself out completely, okay?”

You didn’t respond, simply looking down at your blanket as Hyejin stayed with you a little longer.

It wasn’t until one evening, when the common room was quiet and your dorm was empty, that you finally let yourself cry. The frustration, the sadness, the guilt—it all poured out of you in heavy, silent sobs as you clutched your pillow.

You were happy Yoonhee had faced punishment. You were relieved that Heeseung was free from her influence. But you were also scared—scared of facing him, scared of what he would say, and scared of how much you still loved him, even after everything.

Before you knew it, the day of the annual Christmas Ball at Hogwarts had arrived. Normally, you would’ve been excited. Your mother had even sent you a beautiful golden gown, one that shimmered like sunlight when you first pulled it out of the box. You’d twirled in front of the mirror, imagining how the soft fabric would float around you as you danced.

But now? Now you had lost all reason to go.

The thought of attending made your stomach churn. The idea of walking into that grand hall, of possibly running into him—it was too much.

Unfortunately, your housemates had other plans. They weren’t about to let you stay locked up in your dorm forever, wallowing in shame and fear. After days of patient encouragement, they finally pulled you out of bed, insisting you at least attend a few classes. Begrudgingly, you relented, figuring it would stop their nagging if nothing else.

The morning started off easy enough. You didn’t have any classes with Heeseung today, which gave you some peace of mind. Still, you couldn’t shake the paranoia that he might show up out of nowhere.

And, honestly, that paranoia wasn’t entirely unfounded.

It was as if Heeseung had a built-in radar for you. More than once, you caught a glimpse of his dark hair in the corridors, his eyes scanning the crowds as if he were searching for someone. For you.

Every time, you ducked behind corners or slipped into empty classrooms to avoid him. It was harder than you expected, given his persistence. You had to wonder if he’d memorized your schedule or something.

By the time your last class ended, you were exhausted—not from the lessons, but from all the hiding and running. You slumped into your seat at dinner, barely touching your food as your housemates chattered excitedly about the ball.

“You’re still coming tonight, right?” one of them asked, nudging your shoulder.

You hesitated. “I don’t know...”

“Oh, come on,” another chimed in. “Your mom sent you that gorgeous dress! You have to go.”

You sighed, poking at the mashed potatoes on your plate. “I’ll think about it.”

But even as you said it, you doubted you’d actually go.

As the evening drew closer, you found yourself back in your dorm, staring at the golden gown hanging from your wardrobe. It truly was stunning, the kind of dress you’d dreamed of wearing to an event like this.

For a moment, you almost let yourself imagine it—dancing under the enchanted ceiling, laughter and music filling the air.

You shook your head, turning away from the dress. You weren’t ready for that.

Just as you were about to crawl back into bed, however, your dormitory door burst open, and your housemates barged in with determined looks.

“Nope, we’re not letting you sit this one out,” one of them declared, grabbing your arm and pulling you to your feet.

“What are you—”

“Listen,” another interrupted, “you don’t have to stay the whole night. Just come for a little bit. Wear the dress, take a few pictures, and if you’re really miserable, you can leave. Deal?”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the hopeful, pleading looks on their faces stopped you. They just wanted you to have fun, to feel normal again, even if only for a little while.

“...Fine,” you muttered, earning cheers from the group.

Before you knew it, they were helping you into the golden gown, fixing your hair and makeup, and hyping you up like you were royalty.

“You look amazing,” one of them said, beaming as they adjusted the final curl in your hair.

You didn’t feel amazing, but you forced a small smile.

Your housemates dragged you down the corridors toward the grand hall, their excitement became contagious. Despite your initial reluctance, you found yourself starting to feel... a little excited, too.

When you finally stepped into the grand hall, your breath hitched. The space was utterly transformed, shimmering with holiday magic. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the enchanted ceiling, disappearing just before they touched the ground. The chandeliers sparkled like stars, and the tables were adorned with golden centerpieces. Everything looked like it had been plucked from a dream.

But then you saw him.

Heeseung.

He was standing near one of the refreshment tables, laughing softly at something a fellow Slytherin said. Emerald green suit, tailored to perfection. His hair, slicked back, revealed his sharp jawline and those intense eyes. But as your gaze lingered on him, you noticed something else—he looked tired.

It wasn’t until he glanced your way and his eyes locked onto yours that you realized you’d been staring.

Your heart jumped in your chest, and before you could even think about turning away, he was moving. Heeseung’s long strides cut through the crowd like a magnet pulled him toward you.

“Oh no,” you squeaked, panic bubbling in your chest.

You instinctively turned to your friends for help, but all you saw were their grinning faces and two very obvious thumbs up.

Ah, so they planned this.

You shot them a silent glare, but before you could even consider fleeing, a firm hand grabbed yours. Heeseung’s grip was gentle but insistent as he pulled you away.

“H-Heeseung—!” you started, but he wasn’t listening.

He didn’t stop until he’d guided you to a quiet corner of the hall, away from the prying eyes of your fellow students. The noise of the ball faded into the background as he turned to face you, his hands still holding yours.

Your breath caught.

Up close, he looked even more handsome, but those tired eyes, paired with the slight downturn of his lips, made your chest ache. He looked... vulnerable.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. He just stared at you, taking in every detail—the golden gown that hugged your figure, the way your hair framed your face, the faint shimmer of your lips.

“You look beautiful,” he said softly, his voice hoarse, almost as if he hadn’t used it in days.

You blinked, momentarily stunned. You weren’t sure how to respond, your thoughts still scrambling to catch up with the fact that he was here, holding your hands, looking at you like that.

Finally, you managed to mumble, “You look... good too.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a small, tired smile. “Thanks,” he said, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.

Heeseung’s gaze softened as he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. For—”

You cut him off, shaking your head. “No, Heeseung. Stop. It wasn’t your fault. It was Yoonhee’s. You didn’t ask for any of this.”

He blinked, stunned by your words, but his expression quickly shifted to one of concern. “Then... why?” he asked softly, his voice trembling. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

You looked down, biting your lip, unable to meet his gaze. But he wasn’t having it.

Gently, he tilted your chin up with his fingers, forcing your eyes to lock with his. His touch was soft but firm, his eyes desperate. “Please,” he murmured, his voice low and pleading. “Please look at me, Y/N. I need to see you. All of you. I need to understand.”

You swallowed hard, his intensity making it difficult to breathe. Your heart pounded in your chest as you searched for the right words.

“I...” You hesitated, but his unwavering gaze gave you the courage to continue. “I was scared, Heeseung. Scared that... you wouldn’t like me anymore. That whatever we had before was gone. And it hurt. It hurt so much that I didn’t know how to face you. I felt so... drained. So tired. I had no energy for anything. It was like everything good was just gone.”

He listened intently, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek as tears spilled from your eyes. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to justify anything. He just... listened. Like he always did.

When you finally finished, a silence hung between you, heavy.

And then, without warning, Heeseung wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest.

You froze for a moment, startled, before slowly relaxing into his embrace. His scent—familiar and comforting—washed over you, and you felt like you could breathe again.

“Baby...” he whispered into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I would have waited forever for you to feel okay again. Because you’re the only woman I love in this world. The only one I’ve ever loved. And nothing—nothing—is ever going to change that.”

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, the sincerity in his tone breaking down the walls you’d built around your heart.

“I want a future with you,” he continued, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. His hands framed your face, his thumbs gently wiping away the tears that had fallen. “I don’t care about anyone else. I never did. It’s always been you. Always.”

His words left you speechless, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it.

“I love you,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that to you if I have to.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks as you nodded, a shaky smile breaking through. “I love you too, Heeseung,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Heeseung’s lips curved into a soft smile, his eyes glistening with relief and adoration. Without another word, he leaned in slowly, giving you plenty of time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the gap between you, meeting him halfway as his lips pressed against yours in a kiss.

Your heart raced as your hands instinctively reaching up to grip the front of his emerald green suit. His arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer, like he was afraid to let you go. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was reassuring you that this was real, that he wasn’t going anywhere.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you breathless, his forehead rested against yours. Heeseung’s smile widened, his thumbs gently rubbing circles against your sides.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with affection. “And I’ll never stop, as long as you let me.”

You laughed softly, your cheeks warming as you looked up at him. “You’re so dramatic,” you teased, though your tone held no malice.

“Maybe,” he admitted with a playful smirk, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

But before either of you could say anything more, a loud burst of laughter echoed from the main hall, reminding you both that you weren’t exactly in a private setting.

Heeseung chuckled, glancing over his shoulder before looking back at you. “Come on,” he said, grabbing your hand. “Let’s go somewhere quieter. I’m not done with you yet.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking up. “Oh? And where exactly are we going?”

He grinned mischievously, tugging you gently along. “You’ll see,” he said, his tone light and teasing.

Heeseung led you through the dimly lit corridors, weaving between tapestries and statues until you reached a secluded alcove. It was quiet, away from the bustling energy of the Great Hall, and the faint sound of music and laughter felt like it was miles away.

Leaning casually against the stone wall, Heeseung tugged you closer by your hand, his other arm snaking around your waist as he grinned down at you. “Now this,” he murmured, “is more like it.”

You couldn’t help but giggle, feeling a bit giddy as he twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers. The way he looked at you, like you were the only person who mattered, sent your heart racing.

Before you could respond, you found yourself leaning up, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was soft at first, but quickly deepened. His hand tightened on your hip as he pulled you flush against him, and you reached up, tangling your fingers into his perfectly styled hair, making it deliciously messy.

Heeseung groaned softly against your lips, the sound sending a thrill through you as his hand slid to the small of your back, holding you steady. The kiss was everything—intense, like he was making up for all the lost time, for all the days you’d been apart.

When you finally pulled back, both of you breathless and slightly disheveled, he let out a low chuckle. “There goes my hair,” he teased, his voice husky as he glanced at you, his lips still red from your kiss.

You smirked, smoothing down the strands you’d mussed up. “I think it looks better this way,” you quipped, earning a playful roll of his eyes.

“Yeah?” he said, leaning in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Well, if it makes you happy, I guess I’ll allow it.”

Heeseung's playful nature shone through as he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I could get used to this," he whispered, his breath warm and tickling against your skin. "You looking all beautiful and mussed up."

You smiled, feeling a rush of excitement at his words. "Well, if you like it, I might just keep it this way," you replied, a hint of challenge in your voice. "Although, I think I might enjoy seeing the look on your face if I went back to being perfectly put together."

With a playful roll of his eyes, Heeseung leaned in again, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss. But this time, his hands went to your dress, his fingers trailing along the neckline, subtly revealing more of your skin.

You giggled into the kiss, a sound of both pleasure and surprise. "Naughty boy," you teased, trying to hit his hand away, but Heeseung was unmoved, his focus solely on you and the kiss.

His hands continued to tease, gently tugging at the fabric of your dress, revealing more of your shoulders and collarbone.

"You know I can't resist you," he murmured against your lips, his voice low and seductive. "Especially when you look like this."

"I know you can't," you replied, your voice soft and filled with affection. "And I'm glad I have this effect on you." You could feel his fingers trace the curve of your waist.

Heeseung's eyes lit up as he saw the skin that had been revealed. With a smile that held both mischief and anticipation, he leaned in, his lips grazing the newly exposed skin.

He started with soft kisses, his lips brushing against your neck, his breath warm and enticing, a gentle tease, tracing the curve of your collarbone.

"You smell so good," he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire. "Like honey and spice."

His hands rested gently on your waist, his touch firm, as if you were something delicate he couldn’t risk breaking.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper as his lips pressed a lingering kiss to the base of your neck. “Do you know that?”

His words made your cheeks flush, and you shook your head slightly, your hands gripping his shoulders for support. “I’m not—”

“You are,” he interrupted, his tone so sure that it silenced any protest you could muster. His lips returned to your skin, brushing over your shoulder where the fabric of your gown had slipped just slightly.

“I could do this forever,” he whispered against your skin, his voice carrying a hint of a smile. “Just... adore you.”

You shivered at his words, warmth pooling in your chest as you gazed at him. There was nothing rushed or impatient about him—just pure affection, as though he was savoring every moment with you.

“You’re impossible,” you mumbled, but the smile on your face betrayed the teasing edge in your voice.

Heeseung looked at you then, his dark eyes filled with so much love it made your breath catch. “And yet, here I am, completely yours,” he said with a boyish grin, leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of your nose, making you laugh softly.

A sudden scream sliced through the moment, making you both freeze. You turned to find Yoonhee standing in the hallway, her eyes blazing with rage, her hands clenched into fists at her sides, hatred radiating from every inch of her.

You quickly adjusted the straps of your dress, feeling a flush of embarrassment but finding comfort in the way Heeseung immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

"Yoonhee," Heeseung said, his voice calm but firm, his body still shielding you. "What are you doing here?"

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stepped forward, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor as she walked toward you. "You," she spat, her voice seething with venom. "You ruined everything. You always ruin everything."

The words stung more than you expected, and you felt yourself shrinking back, but Heeseung’s grip tightened around you, giving you strength.

"If you didn`t exist," she continued, her voice rising. "Everything would have been perfect. Heeseung would have been mine. I would have had everything I wanted."

You shook your head, unable to comprehend the depth of her bitterness. "Yoonhee, What are—"

But she wasn’t listening. Her gaze never left you, her eyes full of hatred as she took another step toward you. "You don't deserve him. You’re not good enough. You’re nothing compared to me."

Heeseung, his expression hardening, finally stepped in to talk. "Enough, Yoonhee."

Her glare shifted to him, but there was no remorse in her eyes. Instead, she let out a bitter laugh. "Oh, really? You think you can just shut me up?" She turned back to you, her face twisted with anger. "You think you can steal him from me and everything will be fine? You don’t know him like I do."

You swallowed, your throat tightening at her words, but Heeseung’s presence kept you steady. His voice, low and firm, cut through her words. "You’re wrong, Yoonhee. You’ve always been wrong. This isn’t about you, and it never was. I’m with her because I want to be. You’re the one who needs to let go."

For a moment, there was silence, the tension thick between the three of you. Yoonhee stood there, fuming, but Heeseung didn’t flinch.

"You can’t do this, Heeseung," she hissed, her voice full of desperation now. "You don’t even know what you’re giving up. You think she cares about you? She’s just playing you like everyone else. She’s not even worthy of you."

Heeseung’s expression softened, but there was no uncertainty in his eyes. "You’re wrong, Yoonhee. She’s everything to me, and I’m not walking away from her."

Yoonhee’s shrill scream filled the room, and before anyone could react, she lunged at you. Her hands shot out, grabbing your arm and yanking you away from Heeseung with surprising strength. You stumbled back, her nails digging into your skin as she tried to shove you down. Her eyes were wild with fury, and for a moment, you froze, too stunned by the violence of her attack to respond.

But then, something inside you snapped. All the weeks of anger, hurt, and confusion flooded back. The betrayal, the humiliation, the endless nights of crying and wondering what went wrong—it all surged up at once. This was the girl who had stolen Heeseung right out of your life. The one who had used Amortentia to control him, to warp his feelings, to hurt you. The one who had made you feel small and insignificant.

No, you wouldn’t let her do this anymore.

With a fierce yell, you shoved her off, your fist flying instinctively. The punch connected with her cheek with a satisfying thud, the force sending her staggering backward. Her eyes widened in shock, hand flying to her face as she stumbled and almost fell to the ground.

Yoonhee gaped at you, her breath coming in short, furious gasps. "You... You bitch!" she snarled, voice shaking with rage.

But you stood your ground, heart racing, every ounce of your being wanting to scream and lash out. You felt the heat of your own anger, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. You weren’t backing down anymore. "No," you said, your voice trembling but fierce, "you don't get to do this. You don't get to ruin everything for me and Heeseung. You don’t get to play with people’s feelings."

Yoonhee glared at you, hands trembling with fury. "You think you’ve won, don’t you?" Her voice was a low hiss. "You really think he’s yours? He’s not. He’ll always come back to me."

Heeseung stepped forward, voice cutting through the tension. "You’re done. I’ve told you before. I’m with her, not you."

Yoonhee looked between the two of you, her face flushing red with humiliation. The silence that followed was deafening. She was seething, but there was no more fight left in her. She stood there for a moment, glaring at you, and then, with a final look of disdain, she turned on her heel and stormed away.

You let out a breath, feeling your body go limp, the tension draining from your limbs. Heeseung moved towards you immediately, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, his voice soft and concerned.

You nodded slowly, though your heart was still racing from the confrontation. "I’m okay," you whispered, your voice hoarse. "I just... I don’t know what came over me."

Heeseung pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands and looking into your eyes. "You did what you had to do," he said gently. "You’ve been through so much because of her."

"And besides I like seeing that side of you," he said, his voice warm and genuine. "The way you stood up for yourself."

You smiled, feeling a rush of warmth fill your chest at his words.

"I’m proud of you," he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You held him tighter, feeling grateful for everything that had brought you to this point. "I love you," you whispered.

"I love you too," he replied.

a/n: i feel emotional now

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Taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @laylasbunbunny @kiripimaspillow

@wensurr @immelissaaa @simj4k3 @vegahrid @03sunoos

@hollxe1 @moonpri @cherriesfine @badtzsan @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@heeseungbabydoll @wondash @renjiishot @demigodmahash

@strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @honeybunnee @jjongstar111

@starf4lls @obyyyy (@enhasunghoonishot )

Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When they call you clingy, so you distance yourself | Hyung Line Pt. 2

Warnings: Cursing

Pt1, Pt3 Maknaeline

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

BANGCHAN|

Chris groaned and put his head into his hands. He stared at the the screen in front of him.

8:28

He had decided to make today an early morning so he could call it an early night, but he wasn't even able to work on what he had actually intended to do because a trainee's mistake. Although he was heated in the moment he had apologized when he had run into the frightened guy in the canteen. It was an honest mistake when laptops looked exactly the same.

He had also realized that he was heated in the moment when you had come to visit him.

His fingers itched to text you an apology but he knew this was something that he needed to apologize for in person. So he shut his laptop and tucked it into his bag and decided to head home rather than starting a new project.

It was eating at his consciousness, the way he brushed you off so easily earlier just because of stress that had nothing to do with you. He reached over the couch in his studio to flick off the light.

A soft ruffling of fabric startled him slightly and he looked down to see your black coat draped over the couch of the same color.

"Its freezing." He mumbled grabbing it and quickly heading out of the building.

I was such a dick. She was so distraught she walked home in this weather without a coat.

Chris drove over to your apartment and parked haphazardly on the street. It wasn't the safest neighborhood, and a small part of him was worried about having something happen to his car, but he couldn't focus on that when he needed to focus on fixing things with you.

He pulled out his keys and found the small silver spare to your apartment.

"Baby?" Chris called out. He slipped off his shoes and he walked from the foyer into your kitchen, his black socks slipping a little on your freshly swept floors.

"Y/N?" Chris called out, flipping the light on in the kitchen. The box of trash bags was sitting on the counter and he placed them back under the sink. "Baby?"

Something was off. Chris felt it in his bones. He tried to steady his heart. Maybe you were asleep? If it wasn't to him, you tended to turn to your bed for comfort when you were sad.

He reached for your door handle out of habit of strolling into the guys room but paused to knock.

"Love?" He called out. He knocked for another minute or two, before turning the handle softly in case you were sleeping. "Baby, I don't know if your asleep but I'm coming in okay?"

Your room was empty, and the fairy lights you always kept on were off.

He flipped on the light and he felt his heart sink to his feet.

He immediately rushed out of your room and started looking through the cabinets and drawers and nooks and crannys of every other space.

Your apartment was bare minus the essentials.

In your guest room you had boxes neatly stacked in various places.

Chris felt tears crawl at his throat.

"Baby?" He tried calling out again. "Y/N this isn't funny! Say something!" He cried out.

He fumbled to grab his phone from his pocket.

His fingers shook as he called you.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

"No," He mumbled.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

"No," Chris mumbled. "No," He said again.

He felt his heart jump through his throat and he couldn't breathe.

His hands were shaking as he dialed up another number.

"Oi, Chris you coming home soon-"

"Fe-Felix." He choked out. He couldn't even continue without hyperventilating. "Fe-Felix I-I can't breathe. I-I can't-"

"I'm coming to you alright? I have your location I'll be there okay? Okay just try and calm down okay? I'll be there soon." Chris could hear the jingling of keys and the slamming of the door and Minho's voice in the background as Felix panted running to the car. "Stay on the phone Channie-hyung okay, I'll be right there."

"I-I can't breathe." He cried out.

"It'll be okay, I'll be right there hyung." Felix slammed his fist down on his car horn and yelled a string of profanities as another car blared their horn in the distance as well.

By the time Felix had arrived at your house Chris was an absolute mess.

Felix was instantly able to tell what was wrong with Chan when he saw the boxes and Chan desperately trying to unpack them.

"Hey-hey Chris calm down." Felix said as he grabbed onto his hyung's shoulders.

"S-She's leaving me." He cried out. "Felix, she's leaving me. She can't leave me. My heart -my heart can't take it. I don't want-want her to leave m-me."

Felix didn't know what to do as he watched his best friend completely shatter in front of him.

"Hyung I'm sure she is-"

"I-I called her clingy. I told her to leave me alone. I don't want to be alone." He whimpered. "I didn't mean it Felix. I didn't m-mean it." He whimpered his voice cracking. "I-I was stressed and-and I yelled- I called her ob-obsess- Felix, she can't leave me. I don't want to be alone."

Felix pulled out his phone and dialed your number. "Hyung calm down I'm sure she's just angry at the moment, it'll blow over. It'll blow over." He repeated as if convincing himself as well. He chewed on the edge of his thumbnail as your phone rang. Chris was collapsed on his and Felix pet his hair.

The number you have dialed cannot be reached.

Felix looked at the broken man in front of him and swallowed.

"It'll be fine. Y/N wouldn't break up with you over something like that, right?"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

MINHO|

"Do you really think it was necessary to yell at her?" Changbin asked as the guys were walking through the market. You had opted not to join and rather hang out with some of the girls from TWICE who were also in Paris for the same event the Kids had came for. The only problem was you had opted to do that for the entire week. You all were flying home tomorrow and Minho hadn't seen more than a glimpse of you other than a few pictures the girls had posted on their fake accounts, and the few pictures you had posted on your private account.

"Why would it not be necessary?" Minho asked.

"Because you're pissed at something that wasn't even her fault." The shorter male said and he picked up a random little trinket to look at, it was a little heavy so he used it as a makeshift dumbell for a second.

"Ya, she quite literally ruined my entire plan."

Changbin looked at Minho like he had grown a second head. "How the hell was she supposed to know you were trying to propose to her?!"

Minho pursed his lips and turned away and started walking.

Changbin moved his tiny legs to catch up with the cat eyed member.

Felix crossed paths with them and joined the conversation.

"Minho-Hyung you've been miserable all week. Just swallow your pride and apologize."

"I have nothing to apologize fo-"

"Ya! No offense Hyung but you're being a fucking idiot!" Felix said. The two Hyungs of Felix recoiled and looked at the sunshiny Aussie. "Sorry for my tone Hyung but it's true. All she wanted to do was spend time with you because she loves you. And to her it seems like you got upset because you didn't to spend time with you. And you got upset with her because you planned a super elaborate and flamboyant proposal because you love her and you weren't able to execute it. So basically, you are both pissed at each other because you love each other more than anything in this world. So tell me how that makes sense at all?"

Changbin nodded. "He's not wrong at all you're kind of an idiot."

Minho sighed and pouted.

"Which means you need to be the one to apologize because Y/N-ie actually has reason to be mad."

Minho's pout became even more noticeable.

Ugh...apologizing.

Felix seemed to read his elder's mind.

"Its either apologize or ruin your relationship. While it is super easy to replan a propsal, it sure as hell won't be able to replan your future if she walks out on you."

Minho felt that hit his heart hard, but still wanted to be stubborn. "What do you mean easy to replan a proposal? I spent months planning the one I intended to do."

Changbin rolled his eyes. "Ya! Y/N might be your girlfriend but you seem to forget she was all of our friend first. And I sure as hell know she would not care how you proposed to her. Even if you just did it the traditional and plain way of getting down on one knee and saying 'Y/N...will you marry me?" Changbin said mimicking Minho's voice.

Felix shook his head. "No it'd be more like 'Y/N marry me. You have no choice."

"No- 'Y/N, my cats need a mom. You are now their mom.'"

"'Y/N, our wedding is next Friday. Don't be late. Wear white." The happy boy mimicked with a deadpan face.

Changbin and Felix's antics were the thing that made Minho laugh all week. And the levity he felt now was what he felt with you always. And that made the absence of you hit him even harder.

"Can we go back to the hotel? I want- no I need to apologize." He said suddenly.

Changbin sputtered. "Never thought I'd hear that come out of your mouth ever."

Minho playfully shoved Changbin into Felix as they headed back in the direction of the hotel.

"So how do you think you'll propos-"

"Minho-ssi!" The guys stopped and they noticed Chaeyoung running towards them.

Minho felt his heart dip for a second. "What is it?"

"I-I went to get Y/N-ie for a girls night out but she wasn't in her room so I figured maybe she just stepped out to the convenience store with Tzuyu or Momo but she wasn't with them when they came back and Tzuyu said the last time she saw her was this morning after we had brunch." Chaeyoung tried to steady her voice. "And I called her but my calls aren't going throu-"

Minho didn't give Chaeyoung time to finish before he started running.

He didn't know where he was going, he didn't even really know where to find you.

All he knew is that he had to.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

CHANGBIN|

"Y/N." Changbin said. "Jagiya!" You ignored Changbin as you walked into your apartment.

He followed ensuite and was pouting. "Jagiya please talk to me. It's been three weeks."

"Mmmm. Nah. I don't feel like being clingy today." You said as you set your purse down and headed towards your bedroom.

"C'mon please? It was a stupid argument. I'm sorry. I was just upset."

"Hmm. And I'm upset right now too." You said as you started digging through your closest. You pulled out a cute yet sleek dress.

The same dress you had worn on your first date with Changbin oh so long ago.

"Babe?" Changbin asked as he saw you rummage through things on your vanity.

"Red or Pink?" You asked allowed. "Or I guess the question is should I do a matte red or a glossy red?" You turned to Changbin and gave an innocent look at him. "I don't know which one makes me look better."

"Stop that! Thats not funny. At all." Changbin said as he followed you into the bathroom. He stayed planted in the same spot even as you changed, shutting his eyes respectfully until you finished changing.

"Where are you going? Why are you getting dressed up."

You pulled your hair out of the braided updo you had it in and let it fall over your shoulders in a beautiful mix of loose curls and evem looser waves.

Changbin couldn't help but admire just how beautiful you looked right now. Matter of fact you always looked beautiful, but Changbin couldn't help but stare. Since this was the longest he had seen you in the past three weeks.

And seeing you get ready and dolled up worried him. It sparked a jealousy in him that he found himself all too familiar with these past few weeks. It was partly the reason he had snapped at you in the first place.

He had thought it was just a stupid argument but right now it seemed like it was so much more than that.

And it was slowly killing him. Had he really hurt you that bad?

"Jagiya where are you going?"

You ignored Changbin as you touched up your makeup slightly, wiping off the clear gloss you had and favoring a glossy red lip instead. You grabbed your favorite perfume - and Changbin's favorite on you - and sprayed it delicately over yourself.

You looked at your watch and looked up at Changbin. "I have to go I'm meeting someone at five."

You grabbed your purse and Changbin grabbed your wrist.

"W-What do you mean you're meeting someone?" You snatched your wrist away from him gently and made your way towards your car.

"W-Wait Y/N it's not a date is it? You're not going on a date? Wait please tell me you aren't."

"Changbin I have to go. It would be a bad first impression if I was late."

"Can you please at least tell me where you are going?"

You huffed. "I'm going to that one coffee shop next to the karaoke bar? The one we always used to go to when you had first asked me out." You said as you were strapping on a pair of heels.

Changbin felt like his world was collapsing.

"No. We aren't breaking up you're not allowed to do that."

You looked at Changbin with a confused - what the fuck are you on - type look.

"Changbin you realize people have the free will to do whatever they want right? Thats like me telling you you're not allowed to go to the gym anymore."

"You're not breaking up with me Y/N." He said his voice starting to waver. "You can't."

"Yup, Bin." You said as you opened the door and walked to your car. "Lock the door behind you, would ya?" You called out over your shoulder.

The muscular man quickly locked your door and came to the drivers side.

"Y/N," He said tapping on your window.

"Changbin can you make this quick? Like I said being late is a bad first impression."

"Who cares about first impressions! Y/N you can't date someone else!" He cries. "It was an argument! Are you really breaking up with me over this-"

"Damn Changbin I'm no-" Your phones started to ring and you answered it.

Changbin pouted at you as you spoke. Trying his best to listen to the conversation.

"Hello..." Why'd she say hello like that? So nicely... "Yes, I'm on my way right now just leaving my house..." She's already on the stage of letting him know her whereabouts? "Haha no no of course not...yeah....haha!" What could he possibly be saying to make her laugh that much? Only I can make her laugh like that...well I guess Jisung too but mainly me! "Uh I'll just get an iced vanilla latte with all my modifications- just ask Jiwon she'll know...." They have mutuals? "Yeah I'll be there soon....Yep! Can't wait to meet you either...mkay bye!"

Changbin felt his heart constrict as he watched you hang up and start your car.

You gave Changbin a small wave and pulled off, your tires screeching a little as you drove.

He quickly went to follow you. You wouldn't leave him. He wouldn't let you. Because you meant the world to him.

And without his world he would be nothing.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

HYUNJIN|

It had been a few days since Hyunjin had felt like he had spent time with you.

Because while you had been in his presence physically he felt like you had something on your mind.

You weren't all up on him like you usually were. And he missed that. He also missed you asking him if he liked your outfits. He missed the little twirl you would do asking if you looked okay; he missed being able to look at you lovingly while you did so; he missed being able to wait a little bit before he could comment how striking you looked; that little pause in time just to assure that he would be the one who could see you in that specific outfit longer than anyone else you would run into or hang out with, even if it was mere seconds more.

The way every part of you took up every aspect of his life was something he was so used to that he longed for it when he couldn't have it.

And for the past eleven days he longed for it.

So bad.

He missed you.

"Do you think I did something wrong?" Hyunjin asked Jisung as they sat down enjoying a cup of coffee together.

"I'm assuming so because she's treating me just fine. We actually just went to the movies the other day. Some random guy tried to hit on her and she made a comment about his hairline and how it showed his age and that shut him down real quick. It was actually fucking hilarious the way-"

"Did she say anything about me upsetting her?" Hyunjin asked, interuppting Jisung's tangent about his trip with the most loved girl of the band.

"Mm...now that I think about it, she made a comment about some other idol. I forget who she was talking about but I remembered her saying you were talking to them because she was just standing there waiting for you to finish and thats why she decided to drink that one drink. Because she didn't want to...how did she put it...look pathetic? Yeah, I think thats what she said. And she said it was no use because she looked pathetic throwing up all over Bangchan." He took a sip of his coffee. "I actually thought it was funny because Chan was saying he was trying to find an excuse to not have to wear that one suit jacket anymore because it was-"

"Jisung you're getting off topic." Hyunjin sighed. "Did she seem upset when she said that?"

Jisung shook his head. "I wouldn't say she seemed upset when she was talking about finding a use for her hands. I think she looked...off afterwards though. Especially whenever your name came up in ocnversation." He looked at Hyunjin pointedly. "But that wasn't that often. She may be your girlfriend but she is my soulmate so we have our own issues to discuss." He said taking another sip of his coffee. "Like all the drama in Hybe right now. Did you see- wait I'm getting off topic."

Hyunjin frowned. "So it was something I did..." He mumbled.

Jisung sniffed once. "Yeah probably." He said scratching his ear. "I can ask her if you'd like me to."

"No I thinks it okay, I'll find time to talk to her."

"Well they say there is no better time than the present because look who just walked in." The chubby cheeked boy nodded his head somewhere behind Hyunjin.

He turned around and saw you walking in with Felix. You walked up to the counter but didn't notice Hyunjin or Jisung sitting there.

Felix greeted the barista and ordered himself a drink while you looked at the menu.

Hyunjin felt the tiniest - the most miniscule pang of jealousy but it was quickly washed away because he knew that you only had eyes for him. You guys hadn't celebrated your first anniversary yet - it was in four days -but he knew just how much you loved him and he loved you.

And just that - he knew how in love you were with each other.

And thats why it hurt him so much to think he had hurt you.

Felix finished ordering and turned to you. Hyunjin had expected you to tell him your order and for Felix to relay it back to the barista but instead you spoke in Korean - hesitantly - but still with an immense amount of effort and obvious intermediate skill.

Felix corrected you on a couple of words, but after a few motivational words from the barista - words you obviously understood - you shined a bright smile and laughed.

"Y/N doesn't speak Korean." Hyunjin turned to Jisung, and the small quokka like boy pouted slightly. "Jisung."

"I walked in on Y/N-ie and Felix-" He blurted out. "God, I've been keeping that secret so long." He let out a breath and looked at Hyunjin's shocked face.

"Walked...in...?"

Jisung put a hand to his forehead. "Sorry I didn't finish my thought. I meant that I like...walked in on them while he was giving her secret korean lessons." He said wiggling his eyebrows.

"Jisung you're not helping my paranoia."

"I was wiggling my eyebrows because of the reason. She said she wanted to learn Korean so when it came time to meet your family she would be able to communicate well with them. It seems like she's actually pretty damn good at it too. Shes a fast learner according to Felix."

Hyunjin groaned. "She's so fucking cute but of all people in our groups she decided to get lessons from Lix? Did she never watch the survival show." He chuckled.

"Yeah...I guess that means I can tell you the actual reason she's upset with you now right?" Jisung said.

Hyunjin's head shot up and he looked at the younger boy expectantly.

"She overheard you calling her clingy. With the idol and his girlfriend..." He looked down and his voice dropped a little. "Its been eating at her a lot. Especially the girl's comment about foreigners and stuff. She was a total bitch for saying that because now it's been making her rethink everything. Because she seems to be convinced that it would be best for your reputation and your future if she ended things with you."

Hyunjin felt his throat constrict slightly. "S-she didn't mean that. She doesn't mean that. She can't."

Jisung hmmed in acknowledgment. "Hyung...she has it rough you know? The pedestal people in our industry put you on - and even in other industries and other countries -is the pedestal you're put on by the same people she consistently is surrounded by when accompanying you. The same people who write all those hateful comments about her on your posts and send even more hateful comments to her private account."

Hyunjin's eyes widened, and his fingers twitched slightly. "What comments? She hasn't told me about any...hate...comments..."

Jisung sighed. "She doesn't want to worry you. And I think she believes those comments too...she can't think of anything else to believe."

Hyunjin felt a knot place itself in his throat to stay as he walked you watch out the coffee shop with Felix trailing you. The thought of your insecurities bothered him immensely. The thought of you thinking you weren't worthy of him when it was the complete opposite; when it was him who wasn't worthy of you. He wished you could see yourself the way he saw you.

And he wished you believed him when he said all the things said.

Believe me when I call you beautiful. When I say I love you...

And if you don't want to in me...

Believe in us.

[eclips-moon]

Batboys finding you sleeping in wierd places headcanon:

Damian Wayne

"Bro, you can't keep doing this." Damian finds you sleeping in the weirdest spots, and he's lowkey over it. One time, you're passed out in the Batmobile, snacks everywhere, legs hanging out the door. He just stands there, staring at you like you're the most chaotic thing he's ever seen. “How do you even fall asleep like this?” But of course, he’s not gonna leave you there. He rolls his eyes, adjusts the seat, and tucks you in (very dramatically) like, “Don’t make this a habit.” He’s not mad. He’s just... concerned? But mostly shook by your ability to sleep anywhere.

Tim Drake

“I literally told you to stop drinking so much coffee.” Tim finds you asleep everywhere—face down on a stack of papers, in the middle of the Batcave, on top of the Batcomputer. He doesn’t even act surprised anymore. He’s just like, “Well, I warned you.” One time, you’re passed out on the couch, snacks everywhere, and Tim picks up the coffee cup you definitely spilled while napping. “I love you, but this is chaos,” he says, brushing some crumbs off your face. "Next time, please at least use the chair." He leaves a note with your next coffee: “You’re welcome.”

Dick Grayson

“You’re so cute, but like, also... why???” Dick finds you asleep in the kitchen, spread out on the counter like you’ve been hit by a truck. He can't help but laugh, but also he's lowkey impressed that you managed to fall asleep there. He pulls out his phone and takes a pic (because of course he does). “I’m definitely showing this to everyone,” he says, not even hiding his grin. You wake up mid-photo, trying to act like you weren’t drooling, but Dick just chuckles. "Gonna frame this one." You’re like, “Please, no,” and he’s already texting it to the group chat.

Jason Todd

“You’re literally doing this to mess with me, aren’t you?” Jason finds you sleeping everywhere—on the floor, under the Batmobile, sprawled out on the roof. He’s got that annoyed big brother vibe, like, “You’re going to get a crick in your neck,” but the second he sees you all cute and dead to the world, he can’t help but sigh. One time, he even gently picks you up to move you. You wake up in a daze, and he’s like, “I didn’t sign up for this. But you look adorable when you're asleep, so whatever.” “No need to carry me, I’m fine,” you mumble. “I’m doing it because I have no choice,” he responds.

Duke Thomas

“How do you even sleep like this?” Duke is actually concerned when he finds you sleeping in random spots, but at the same time, it’s kinda funny. One time, he finds you passed out on the floor of the training room, head on a punching bag like it’s your pillow. He’s like, “You... you okay? How does that even happen?” He sits down next to you and gives you a little nudge. “You’re making me look bad, you know that? I’m over here trying to be all cool, and you’re taking naps in the middle of the Batcave.” He laughs but also kinda adjusts you, “Next time, at least use a pillow or something.”

Bruce Wayne

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Bruce, being Bruce, finds you sleeping in the weirdest places—and honestly, he’s just not even shocked anymore. One time, you’re passed out on top of the Batcomputer, legs dangling off the side like you’re part of the furniture. Bruce just stares for a second before doing the whole “I’m-not-angry-I’m-just-disappointed” thing. “Please don’t sleep in here,” he says, carefully moving you to a more... comfy spot (probably your bed, but he’s not gonna say that). He tries to keep it chill, but there's definitely a dad vibe. "You could’ve at least stayed on the couch." You wake up, confused, and he’s like, “Just... don't fall asleep in the Batsuit next time.”