#i broke 2 nails and burned myself during this

[v0rtex-sys]

finally finished the tud mask i started several months ago:D

[lubdubsworld]

物の哀れ ( ‘the sadness of things’.)

Characters : Alpha! Jungkook x Omega ! OC.

Genre : Arranged Marriage / Temporary contractual Marriage.

Warnings : Non- Con/ Extremely Dubious Consent . High functioning alcoholism. Genre related consent issues. Implied suicidal thoughts.

Summary : A recently widowed Jungkook agrees to a contract marriage to keep his company afloat. His grief overwhelms him and it is hard to look at his new wife as anything other than an intruder .

[  Author’s Note :  物の哀れ ~ Mono no aware can be translated as ‘the sadness of things’. It comes from the words 物 (mono – thing) and 哀れ (aware – poignancy or pathos). The ‘sadness’ in question comes from an awareness of the transience of things, as taught by Zen Buddhism. When we view something exceptionally beautiful, we might feel sad because we know it won’t stay so beautiful forever – but appreciation only heightens the pleasure we take in the beautiful thing in that moment. ]

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Chapter 3

“Yoongi left a bunch of painkillers for you. He said you can take up to three per day.” Jin said calmly , carefully slipping the sleeves of my t shirt over my wrist as i held my arms out for him. He slipped the shirt over my head gently but his arms hit my shoulders, jostling me.   I swallowed the whimper of pain that shot through me at the movement. Mina was now awake, happily wiggling around on her rocker. 

It was a little past seven in the evening and Jungkook wasn’t due to arrive for another hour . 

“I could sleep on a bed of rusty nails right now. I’m so tired and i don’t know why. “ I whispered, staying still as he carefully drew the fabric down over my ribs, before stepping back. 

“I’ll sleep in the nursery with her. You should take the bed. You’re in no shape to be up and taking care of her when she wakes up. Jungkook’s asked me to stay here during the day because I’m not going to be performing for a couple months anyway and I’ve been losing my mind, rattling around that huge ass mansion all by myself. ” 

The phone rang, startling both of us. 

I groaned before moving to get up but Jin oppa held a hand up.

“Stay in bed. I’ll go see who it is.” 

I watched him disappear out of the room, settling back against the pillows and reaching for the ice pack in the small cooler by the bed. I had to ice my ribs every hour or so and while it didn’t seem to be helping much, I definitely appreciated the temporary numbness it offered. 

Jungkook’s guilt had driven a new wedge between us and he hadn’t so much as looked at me in three days. 

I wasn’t sure entirely if this was a good or bad thing. The fact that he seemed to be considering that he had to get his emotions under control to stop hurting the people around him was a welcome change. But the idea of going back to being ignored and treated like furniture , wasn’t really all that appealing. 

“Jungkook’s parents are on the way.” Jin’s voice broke through my reverie and i jumped. 

I resisted the urge to sob out loud . 

Mr and Mrs. Jeon were on the opposite side of the grief spectrum and just as annoying. 

Where Sooah’s parents were intent on making Jungkook remember their daughter as often as possible, Jungkook’s parents were intent on making him forget her. 

The only thing the two of them had in common was a burning hatred for me. 

Jungkook’s parents had wanted him to quit the company and sell it when it went into loss but Jungkook had categorically refused because that would result in all of his employees getting laid off, and back then Jungkook had been nothing if not ridiculously compassionate. Jungkook’s parents firmly believed that if it hadn’t been for me, their son would be back in Busan, letting them raise their granddaughter. 

“Great, that’s great. Did you tell them their son is not around?” I grimaced. I’d only met them three times in total and the last time was in the hospital two months ago when Jungkook had crashed in the middle of a board meeting, weeks of starving and dehydration catching up to him. It hadn’t been a pleasant experience, getting cursed out in front of the doctors and nurses and it probably won’t be any fun in the privacy of my home either. 

Jin gave me a sympathetic smile. 

“He’s already told them he’s on the way. I’m going to take Mina out on a walk. Give you guys some privacy. Shoot me a text when they leave.” he said gently. 

“Can’t I come with?” I begged and he laughed. 

“That would be a bad idea, even if it weren’t for the cracked rib. Just relax. Smile and nod and let them spew whatever nonsense they want and then they’ll leave. ” 

I opened my mouth to tell him how many flaws there were in his plan when the doorbell rang. 

“And that’s my cue. Text me, yeah?” Jin moved to pick Mina up from the rocker before reaching for the baby carrier on the table. 

I debated the pros and cons of staying in bed and finally decided against it, gently throwing my legs off the edge and raising myself up to a sitting position. I heard vague voices by the front door, Jin’s sweet tones mingling with Jungkook’s slightly gruffer ones. 

I heard the door close and the stillness of the apartment was as oppressing as ever. I could hear him quite clearly though. The clink of the keys as they hit the bowl, the small click of the door as he locked it. 

i could imagine him, exhausted from the day’s work, briefcase held in one hand while the other tugged on the knot of his tie. 

I imagined for a second, what it must have been like for him with Sooah. She was a bright , incredibly cheerful person. Everyone kind of faded into the background when she was around. Sooah had always been the first to smile at a stranger, the first to laugh even if the joke wasn’t funny. The first one to stand up to help someone in need. 

I swallowed, clutching the sheets to ground myself. 

I guessed that she must’ve always rushed to greet him at the door. I could imagine him wrapping both arms around her waist, drawing her into a hug or even a kiss. 

 How was your day, Kookie?  (I’d heard her call him that, once when they had been at my father’s house for a charity dinner. )

I wondered if perhaps the very sight of her would have taken away all of the day’s exhaustion from him. Perhaps, he would forget all the ways his company had been failing back then at the sight of her beautiful laughing face. Perhaps losing his company hadn’t been as terrifying as losing his job.  

And perhaps once he lost her, he just couldn’t bear the thought of losing his life’s work too. And so he’d agreed to meet my father’s demands. 

My fingers began trembling a bit .

I could imagine her moving around the house, pregnant and glowing, laughing as he nuzzled into the curve of her belly. Had he perhaps pressed his lips to her skin, whispered sweet endearments to his daughter through the fabric of his wife’s clothes? Had he perhaps loved Mina, deeply? WAs it just his grief that made it hard to be near his wife. Or was it perhaps me? Me holding the baby that should have been in his beautiful wife’s arms. 

The wife he had been so madly, deeply in love with. 

Love, I thought vacantly.

It wasn’t something I had ever felt, for anyone until I’d began caring for Mina.

But what Jungkook had with his wife was something different wasn’t it? 

The love a man had for a woman. Laced with desire, longing and passion. A love that made you put their happiness over your own.  

Love like that had never been in the cards for me. 

Ever

I was an Omega. Rare and hated and known for being selfish and greedy. People didn’t love my kind. They avoided me. They always assumed I would take advantage of them. My peers growing up had treated me with so much contempt. 

 The girls would whisper how I was trying to seduce their boyfriends. The boys would call me a tease, even when I stayed far away and did nothing to attract their attention. I’d gotten used to it. It didn’t bother me. it was the way of the world for me. Ad it wasn’t like I could honestly deny some of it. 

I looked at handsome alphas and wanted them. I wanted to be held and cherished. To be bought pretty things and cared for. It had taken decades for me to beat that part of mine into submission. To remind myself that if I ever let that part of me out, it would destroy me. 

But love? Being in love with someone? 

I didn’t know what that could have been like for Jungkook. 

Or maybe I had but I couldn’t recognize it because I’d never received it myself. Whatever the cause, it was for me, a fairytale. It was hard to imagine people loving each other so much, to the extent that they would die for each other. ( Jungkook’s words still hung in the back of my mind : that he had wanted to follow her even in death ) 

Jungkook was right.

I could never know what his loss was like. 

Because I would never know what he had lost. 

It felt a little like being dipped in an ice cold lake in the middle of winter. My skin broke out in shivers, hair standing on end and I felt my throat go dry so swiftly. I’d never wanted to run away so much. I wrapped a hand sound myself, scooting back on the bed again. I reached for the blanket, wanting to pull it over my head and curl into a ball. 

Shut out the world and all the things that didn’t make sense. 

“Are you alright?” Jungkook’s voice broke through the haze in my head and I swallowed. He had an alpha’s voice and my body responded even if my mind resisted. It didn’t happen all the time. Jungkook couldn’t control me. But sometimes when I was feeling vulnerable, instincts took over . I was already dropping the blanket and smiling softly.

“Mina’s out for a walk.” I croaked out, surprised at how awful my voice sounded. 

I felt the press of something against my fingers and I blinked, staring at the glass of water Jungkook was pressing into my hand.

“Don’t worry, I called them and told them not to come over.” He said quietly , watching me drink with still trembling fingers. 

I swallowed and stared at him. 

“I... Thank you. “ I said fervently, feeling a few knots come undone in my gut. I couldn’t really stand up to Jungkook’s parents the way I did with Sooah’s parents. Because Jungkook loved them deeply and hurting them would be the same as hurting him. 

“There’s a party in a couple of days. It’s my birthday. I’m turning 34.  Yugyeom’s organizing the whole thing, so I’m going to hire a babysitter for Mina, because Jin hyung will be there too and you need help caring for her anyway. You can stay home and rest. ” he said . 

I scoffed. 

“I’m going to come with you.” I said firmly. 

Jungkook frowned. 

“What?” 

I glared at him. 

“I’m not letting you go to a party organized by your shit for brains friend, Jungkook. You’ll probably end up getting drunk out of your mind and killing someone and I’m not going to hang around to clean that up. I’m coming to that party and I’m making sure you don’t have more than one drink.  “

Jungkook’s frown deepened into a scowl. 

Did you ever look at your wife , like this? With so much loathing? I thought stupidly. Or did she only ever get to see the sweet and wonderful side of you? Did she ever annoy you the way i seem to every second of the damn day ? Did you hate certain things about her too? Or was she so perfect that you could only feel love ? 

“ I can take care of myself. Its my birthday , I can do whatever the fuck I want.“ He snapped. 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 

“Not unless you’re a five year old kid in the sandpit, which you’re not. You’re an adult and when you make stupid decisions as an adult, very real people end up paying for it. You’re old enough to know this Jungkook and for once, just listen to me. You can drink, fine. But I’m going to be there and if I see that you’re getting drunk, I’m going to bring you home. You either agree or I’m going to call Yoongi oppa .” 

That made him pause. 

“Fine. Fuck you.” He snapped, turning on his heel and stalking out of the room. A few seconds later I heard the door to the shower slam shut.  

 I wanted to follow him and shake some sense into him but before I could decide if it was worth jostling my body, when another sharp pain lanced through my ribs.

Oh great. 

I took deep breaths the way Yoongi had taught me. Apparently, pneumonia was a thing that could happen, so i had to breath carefully to reduce the risk of that happening. 

The birthday party organized by Yugyeom was going to be a whole entire migraine inducing disaster. I could already feel the headache come on. It still amazed me that Jungkook was friends with him and his cronies. 

Yugyeom and his friends were the typical; brain dead alphas who thought themselves superior to all other ranks. Even worse, they viewed omegas as objects: fucktoys to be more precise and I bristled when i remembered the way he had always stared at me. 

Well, if he stepped anywhere near me, I would kick him in the teeth. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Jungkook’s mother turned up at home the next day, I wasn’t entirely surprised. I wasn’t surprised but it didn’t make things any more pleasant. 

“We’re willing to take Mina for a couple of days if you would both need time to prepare for the party. This is the first big event Jungkook’s holding after Sooah’s passing and we want it to be perfect. As his wife, i hope you’ll do your part.” 

Mrs Jeon’s pinched face did nothing for my already frayed temper. 

“There’s not much i can do with a cracked rib, mother.” I said politely. It stung, having to call this bitter, cruel woman mother but then, such was life. It was late afternoon and Jungkook was probably sitting in the comfort of his air conditioned office, being flattered and doted on by his smitten secretary while I sat here entertaining his vicious mother. 

“Nonsense, you’ve probably just scratched it. I know how you omegas like to exaggerate. “ she waved off my injury easily. “ There are so many details that need to be decided on and its unfair to drop all of those responsibilities on poor yugyeom’s head. Why don’t you go with him and help out a bit?” 

The idea of going anywhere with Kim Yugeom was easily the most repugnant thing to me. 

“I’m sure he knows Jungkook much better than I do. If i interfered, I’d only be getting in his way.” I said politely. 

Mrs. Jeon hummed.

“Well, its good that he’s agreed to the party at least. That woman never let him meet with Yugyeom or his friends when she was around.”

That woman being Jungkook’s late wife. 

I felt a sudden fondness for her. Clearly she had also recognized Yugyeom for the absolute pig that he was and kept her husband away from his rotten influence . But unlike with her, Jungkook didn’t actually care about me. So I had no way of stopping him from meeting the idiots. Yugyeom’s family was rich and reputed and it was clear that the Jeons wanted the friendship and the connection. Why else would they keep pushing for it so much?

“Is there any particular reason you’re here, mother?” I said finally, after hearing her babble on and on about caterers and invitations and what not. 

“I was hoping to meet Mina...why isn’t she here?” 

“I’m not able to care for her well, what with the rib. The doctor has advised me to rest so Jin oppa takes care of her during the day. Jungkook picks her back up on his way back from office. I can send her over to your place with him this weekend.” 

“That would be fine i suppose. Have you spoken to the decorators about changing the portraits put up in the house?”

I blinked.

“Sorry?”

“The penthouse, we’ve got it back now right? why don’t you move there. We have a cook and a housekeeper .”]

“this is closer to Jungkook’s office.” I had no idea where the penthouse was and could only hope it was farther way. 

Mrs. Jeon frowned. 

“This apartment is too small. Not to mention, you still have Sooah’s photos everywhere in this place. Surely that’s not healthy. Get rid of them and put up pictures of you and Jungkook.” 

Jungkook’s parents didn’t know that our marriage had an expiry date. i wasn’t sure if this was a good or bad thing. But they saw me as nothing more than a way to get rid of Sooah from the deepest recesses of Jungkook’s mind. 

“I’m sure, with time...Jungkook can make that decision by himself. When he’s ready for it.” I said gently, beginning the fresh throb of pain near my temple. 

“Nonsense, Heejin. Men won’t ever move on until you force them. Have you considered getting  pregnant?” 

I jumped about a foot into the air.

“I...what.” I croaked out. 

“You need a child too. He mated you. He owes you that. I’m going to tell him that he better do his duty by you.” She said firmly. 

“Please don’t.” I shouted, stunned out of my mind. Was this woman even sane?

“Why not?” She frowned looking at me like i was the one being unreasonable. 

 Why not? Because its barely been four months since he lost his wife of seven years to childbirth. Surely, you don’t think the remedy to that is to have him go through it all over again. 

 “ Mina is still small, mother. I’m sure we can wait a while. Maybe after she’s one or two.” 

 Jungkook would probably move on by then. Of course he would. Grief was overwhelming but it was also finite. It did get smaller over time. Easier to cope with. Jungkook would eventually be able to navigate his life around his grief. He would learn to make new connections and who was to say one of those wouldn’t be a compatible match? 

So two years from now, there was no reason Jungkook shouldn’t meet another lovely woman, a beta maybe and eventually expand his family. Of course i would be nowhere in the picture at the time. But that was fine. 

I remembered something I’d read somewhere, a while back. 

 If two people are like ships that pass in the night, they meet by chance for a short time , then do not see each other ever again. 

Like ships passing by each other in the night,  I reminded myself. That's what Jungkook and I were. 

“Well, if you think that’s wise.... fine. But now that Jungkook’s doing well, why don’t you entertain people more often? You haven’t had a dinner party here yet, have you?”

And so it went on, over an over for a whole two hours until I was wrung out from sheer exhaustion, my head throbbing and nails having dug half moon indents into my palms from fisting my hands too hard. 

By the time i finally closed the door on her face, I couldn’t help but sag against the door, sinking to the floor in a heap, cracked rib be damned. 

I glanced up at the solo portrait on the wall. The one my mother in law had wanted gone. 

“She must’ve really hated you, huh?” I said casually pulling myself up to my feet and moving to the dining space to stare at her face more closely. 

She was dressed in her wedding gown, a fitted mermaid dress with lace and satin detailing. She had a bouquet of white lilies in one hand, elbows bent and the blooms resting on her shoulder while her other hand curved around her slender waist. 

Beautiful was an understatement, I thought vacantly. 

“ You look like you didn’t put up with people’s bullshit. That’s cool I guess.” I smiled a little. “ You know in another world, we may have been friends.” 

I bit my lips.

“Yugyeom was shitty to you too huh? He seems the type. i’m glad you kept Jungkook away from him. I wish you’d somehow help get him away again. He doesn’t listen to me. Thinks I’m trying to control him or something. ”

It was ridiculous. What was i doing.. Why was i talking to a framed picture on the wall. God.

But now that I’d started, I couldn’t quite stop.

“About what happened with Jungkook... I don’t want you to think i was seducing him or anything. And when i said that I hated him calling your name when we... well you know why i said it right? It wasn’t anything personal...i was just pissed. I don’t enjoy the sex by the way... I don’t think he does either but he’s an alpha and you know how it is…they need that release or they kind of lose their mind .. So trust me we both hate the principle of it.... but at least he cums and well I don’t. He’s never made me cum. That should say something about how we feel about each other.......”

“Uh.. Should I come back later?” The voice near the doorway was so unexpected my heart jumped right to my throat and I screamed, stumbling a bit to the side.

Min Yoongi stood framed by the door, one hand wrapped around a bouquet of flowers and the other clutching his bag and stethoscope. He still had his white coat on over his shirt and slacks, hair mussed like he’d run his finger through it.

It took me a second to remember that Yoongi had a key to the house.

Another second to remember exactly what I’d been doing when he came inside.

Good God.

Had he heard the part where I’d talked about Jungkook not making me cum? Surely not? Oh Please no. 

“Jungkook told me to check on you. That you couldn’t sleep last night? Are you in a lot of pain?” 

Jungkook and I had shared the bed in his room last night and I had apparently, tossed and turned and whimpered through the night in pain. Or so Jungkook claimed. 

“Uh... I’m not sure. He said so... so..” 

“you guys sleep together right?” Yoongi asked casually, taking his coat off. I stared at the way the material of the shirt strained over his shoulders, my throat just a little dry. 

Yoongi smelled so ridiculously good. He was a doctor and he was so handsome and kind to me. The attraction would have been there even if i had been a beta but as an omega, the urge to just fling myself at him and beg him to make me his, it was kind of horrifying. 

Tamping down that part of me, I gave him a casual shrug, heart still pounding. 

“Yeah. There’s just two bedrooms here and one is Mina’s nursery. So ...” I finished awkwardly, watching him move around and place his bag on the table before unwinding the stethoscope, placing it around his collar. 

He gave me a small smile. 

“I’ll just take a quick look and check how your breathing sounds. that okay?” He asked gently. 

“Oh... sure. You need me to take my shirt off?” I asked curiously. 

He gave me a quick little smirk. 

“Not for medical reasons no.” He winked. 

I felt blood rush to my face along with guilt. What was I doing? This was Jungkook’s best friend!! His hyung. Someone he trusted and I was his....

His what? 

Nothing. I was Jungkook’s nothing. When was the last time someone had flirted with me . Someone who wasn’t a grade A creep. 

Yoongi moved closer, sitting down on the kitchen stool and beckoned me to come stand between his thighs. i moved, achingly aware of how much more potent his scent was up close. He looked up at me through sooty black lashes, a small smirk on his lips, feline eyes warm and open . 

“Put your hands on my shoulders, yeah?” He prompted. 

I hesitated, fingers shaking just a little before reaching out to rest on this shirt. I kept the touch feather light , the softness of his shirt the only thing I could feel.

He hummed and bending  down to lightly tug the hem of my shirt out of the waistline of my jeans. I bit my lips to stop myself from squirming. 

He glanced up , eyes meeting mine and holding my gaze. 

“You good?” 

“Uhuhbuh.” I stuttered and he grinned wider, pulling the fabric up to the curve of my breasts. He lightly ran his finger tips over the bruised skin , humming thoughtfully .

“You’ll be fine in a few weeks. Hang on.” He pulled back, plugging the steth in his hear before holding the other end up to my chest. He pressed it against my skin, just before the underwire of my bra and it was unexpectedly cold .

I jumped, fingers curling on his shoulder and squeezing down. 

“Hey.. what’s wrong?” Yoongi whispered, hands reaching for my waist, gently holding me steady and I flushed. He looked genuinely worried , lips turned down and brows furrowed and i felt absolutely stupid. 

“Sorry. Sorry.... It’s nothing.. i just.. it’s a little cold.” I laughed nervously and his gaze softened. 

One hand still curved around my waist, he brought the diaphragm up to his mouth, holding my gaze as he gently breathed warm air all over it. 

My throat went instantly dry and i had to swallow. He pressed it against my chest again and this time it was so much warmer. .

“Better?” He prompted and i nodded, guilt and discomfort churning in my stomach. What was i doing? I had no business indulging him. i had no business indulging any man. Ever.

 I looked away, pulling my hands up off his shoulder, pushing his hand off my hip as well . He didn’t say anything his shoulders stiffened at the subtle rejection. 

A mantle of awkward tension settled over us, a small thundercloud of regret and that threatened to rain misery all over us. I wanted to kick myself.  He was older than Jungkook by four years. Thirty eight years old. 

Did he have a girlfriend? Oh god, what if he was martried?

Nausea threatened. 

“Your breathing sounds fine. Are you practicing those breathing exercises , I taught you?” He asked casually and I nodded . I couldn’t trust myself to speak. 

“Hey...” He said gently and I flinched. 

“I’m sorry.” I blurted out. “ I didn’t mean to lead you on or tease you in any way and I’m sorry if i came on to you ...”

“What?! Heejin, stop. That’s bullshit. You never did any such thing. This was all me.” He said firmly. 

I stared at him.

“I know you’re married but... your marriage, its going to end right? Eventually.” 

I made to step back but he grabbed my waist again, this time a few inches over my jean and his fingers on the bare skin of my midriff made me want to melt. He had long slender fingers, a surgeons hands, and the press of it on my skin felt so foreign and gentle and different and good. 

“We don’t have to do anything. I just... I thought we could get to know each other. Over coffee or dinner.”

I wanted to sob at the unfairness of it all.

Because Yoongi was beautiful and handsome and so good and so much more than I could ever even dream of,  but he was and would always be so intricately woven with Jungkook and with Jungkook’s life. And I couldn’t imagine anything more messy than sticking around and watching Jungkook and his daughter forget me and move on.

“It’s.... probably a terrible idea. “ I said roughly, shaking my head. “ Its the kind of idea that would never end well.” 

“Are you sure? Because unlike Jungkook, i could probably make you cum.” He winked and I felt my face flame red. 

“Oh God...” I hissed, stumbling back. This time he let me move away, merely chuckling and reaching for his coat and bag . 

“I won’t bother you again. But the offer’s always open, yeah?” He smiled again. “ You need me to send over more pain meds?”

I shook my head mutely, begging him to just leave already. 

He nodded and held his hand up in a casual wave before walking out of the door. I collapsed on the stool and dropped my head into my arms , groaning. 

What had i gotten myself into. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t actually see Jungkook for a couple of days. The meds knocked me out and he worked overtime, only arriving after I’d slept off and leaving before i woke up. Jin brought Mina around everyday and there was something absolutely exhilarating about watching her clutch at her little teething toys and rattles, gummy smile peeking out every few minutes. 

On a whim, i told Jin what had happened with Yoongi and much to my surprise he actually laughed. 

“About time . He’s been pining for what three years now?” 

I gaped at him, completely thrown.

“I..he.. what.” I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around what I had heard. 

“He saw you at that art exhibition you put up in the Hyatt . By the way, don’t you paint anymore?”

I flushed. 

I had no proper response to that. What could i say? That my painting had just been yet another way to control me, only appreciated by father when he could use it to make more money. And that part of my marriage contract included that I wouldn’t paint or make any money off my art for the duration that I stayed with Jungkook. 

It was just yet another way my father reminded me that he controlled him. I didn’t fight him because he would win anyway. And the only thing he loved more than controlling people was winning battles that were always rigged in his favor. i wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. I would soldier through this awful marriage and at the end of it , i would disappear without a trace. 

I shook my head vaguely and Jin hummed. 

“Yoongi doesn’t understand art but he hung around the entire nine hours , morning to night . Three whole days of him just pretending to look at the artwork while secretly making moon eyes at you.”

I could only stare in sheer disbelief. 

“i... i never knew.” 

“How could you? Yoongi’s idea of courting is pretending he doesn’t exist and fading into the background. “ Jin rolled his eyes. “ He tried approaching your father to officially court you but your old man shut that down rather brutally.” 

I swallowed . 

“I... I’m sorry.” i said feeling foolish. Three years...what? I couldn’t think beyond the shock of the information. 

“Does Jungkook know?” I asked , scared. 

Jin shook his head.

“Like I said Yoongi never made it known . He was afraid it would make life difficult for you. He didn’t want any rumors around because everyone knew your father was looking to offer you to someone rich and young. Yoongi was what , fifteen years older? That’s quite a difference.”

“Thirty eight isn’t old.” I said sharply and Jin’s brow went up. 

“Oh?” He questioned teasingly and I flushed. 

“Jungkook is eleven years older. What’s another four more years?” I shrugged.

“You’re interested then.” Jin said thoughtfully. I recoiled, shaking my head quickly.

“I...what? No. No I’m not. “ 

“Why not? If it isn’t the age, then there’s no reason  to say no. Yoongi is handsome , settled and a great guy all around and besides,  your time with Jungkook is finite right?” 

“I... I won’t cheat on him.” I said firmly. “ i can’t... I... besides, Jungkook and I... we’re... we have sex.” My ears turned red, “ I can’t do that with two guys... I’m not like that. “ 

Jin nodded.

“Its alright.. Heejinah ...I’m sorry if i pressured you or anything. You don’t have to do anything. I know you have a lot on your plate right now. Yoongi probably got carried away . More than likely he’s going to panic and avoid you for a year just to recover.” He laughed and I smiled reluctantly. 

“He’s nice I don’t want to hurt him. “ I said softly. 

“ Sometimes that’s just inevitable . People get hurt no matter what we choose.” Jin gave me a sad little smile. “ Jungkook is just as nice a gy as Yoongi. If not better. He’s just...not in the right headspace to show that side of himself to you. I wish you’d known him before Sooah. He used to be this...playful and funny kid. We all went out of our way to keep him safe. Sooah was just as amazing. Usually , we try to find flaws in people our friends  date right? Well trust me Sooah was hard to dislike .” He laughed, eyes misting over as his gaze landed on her  portrait over the mantle. 

I followed his gaze and swallowed. 

“Do you think Jungkook will ever get over her?” I asked simply. 

Jin hesitated. 

“Someday? Probably yes. But it won’t be easy. He’s ... He feels things deeply. He always has. He loved her deeply, he cared for her deeply and so its only obvious that he’s going to feel the loss of her presence very deeply too.” 

I nodded. 

“Its his birthday tomorrow.” I said softly. “ I have a gift for him. Well its not a gift from me, but a gift nonetheless.  But I’m not sure if I should give it to him.” 

Jin gave me a surprised look. 

“What do you mean?” 

I smiled bitterly.

“Just that sometimes fate can be very cruel when it chooses its players. I’m forever wondering if he would be better off or worse without me in the picture and I just can’t decide.” 

“Different. He would just be different.” Jin said calmly. 

There was nothing else i could say to that. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yugyeom had rented out the rooftop restaurant in one of the poshest Hotels in Seoul and although the party was a pool party, I hadn’t bothered dressing for it. I wore a plain sequined top and burgundy skirt that fanned out around me knees. 

The place was teeming with people his age , friends acquaintances and business partners. The women had changed into bright , skimpy bikinis and lounged about in the brightly lit pool tossing a ball around .

The older people were being hosted by the Jeons on the lower level of the restaurant in a posh ballroom. Jungkook and i would have to visit them later but for now I was content sipping a mocktail, leaning against the bar while Hoseok and Lisa flanked me on either side, pointing out who was sleeping with who. 

Jungkook was in the pool with Yugyeom and Jimin and it was impossible to tear my eyes away from him. He looked happy almost, laughing and shaking water out of his hair as he moved around with the strength and agility of an Olympic athlete. Yoongi was in the pool as well and on the opposite team with Jin and Namjoon....and it was increasingly obvious that the half a dozen bikini clad women were there simply for an excuse to touch the handsome alphas as they worked up a sweat. 

“Jungkook is such a competitive bastard.” Hoseok laughed. “But I don’t know what’s gotten into Yoongi today. i can’t believe he’s in the pool. “

“Of his own volition. “ Lisa added. “ usually someone has to strip him and toss him in. 

Yoongi kept glancing at me every few minutes. It was impossible to miss. It was also impossible to miss that at least three of the six women in the pool were trying to get into his pants. 

I sighed and turned back to the bartender asking for a refill. when i turned back around, Jungkook and Yugyeom were climbing out of the pool and Jin was moving to the opposite side to take their place with Jimin. 

“Jungkook and i are going to go get a drink. Anything for you , beautiful?” Yugyeom reached out to touch me and I almost fell in my haste to get away from him. 

“Keep your hands off me.” I snapped . Jungkook frowned. 

“No need to be rude, Heejin , he was just being polite.” He said softly and i smelt the alcohol on his breath.

“Don’t drink too much Jungkook.”

“Oh come on, beautiful., Its his birthday let him live a little...” Yugyeom laughed and I glared at him.

“I’d rather have him live longer “ I snapped. “ And that can’t happen if you keep trying to give him alcohol poisoning.” 

Yugyeom rolled his eyes. 

“Is she always this dramatic, Jungkook-ah.” Yugyeom laughed. Jungkook didn’t laugh but he gave me a look that said, ‘ please don’t make a scene’ and I bit my lips. 

I didn’t want to ruin his night. He looked ....so close to a normal person tonight and whether I liked it or not Yugyeom had contributed to that. The music was apparently Jungkook’s favorites only, the pool because he loved volleyball in the water and the buffet had all his favorite foods. Yugyeom had gone out of his way to make the party perfect and i suddenly felt like the troll stomping on Jungkook’s happiness. 

Swallowing my own instinct to drag my husband away from the alpha who had his arms around him, I turned away and walked off to the pool. Yoongi’s face lit up when he saw me.

“Hey there, angel. Here to watch me kick some ass? “ He cupped his hands in the water, before tossing a handful of water at me. I blinked in surprise, laughing a little. 

“I’m just here to cheer Jin oppa. “ I said impishly, moving over to the lounge chair near his side of the pool. Yoongi’s pout was adorable and I couldn’t help but laugh. 

Maybe I could stop worrying about Jungkook for a while. Yugyeom wasn’t dangerous. Even if he got a little drunk, I was still here. So were all of our friends. 

It would be fine. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

it wasn’t fine. 

An hour later, I found Jungkook in a room filled with cigarette smoke and light music, yugeyom and his friends scattered around the place with a few beautiful women lounging about on their laps. 

“You said one drink Yugyeom...he’s completely out of his mind.” I said shrilly staring at where Jungkook sat on the couch , shirtless and laughing as some girl in a bikini ran her fingers up and down his arm. She had one leg draped over his thigh.  I felt sick at the very sight of it. 

its because he’s drunk ,  I told myself.  He’s drunk and can’t consent, that’s why you feel sick, nothing else.  

Yugyeom gave me an easy smile. 

“Guy just wants to have some fun. Reina’s a friend of mine. She’ll take good care of him don’t worry. She’s the birthday gift i got him. “ He leered. 

I resisted the urge to punch him in the face. 

Glaring at him, 

“Jungkook, we’re leaving. Come on.” I made to move towards him but a hand shot out, gripping my wrist like a vice. 

“Not so fast baby.... I already paid for her. You can’t just waltz in here and take away her livelihood.” He sneered. “ Unless you want to take her place. This is a special bar you know. All these lovelies, they have something in common with you.” 

I stared at him frowning.

“What does that mean?” 

“I hired them from an omega escort agency...you know because that’s all you omegas are useful for anyway.” 

I rolled my eyes, yanking on my wrist. 

“You and your medieval ideals can go to hell. I’m going home. Jungkook!!” I yelled again and this time Jungkook turned eyes landing on me. 

“Heejin?” He slurred. 

“We need to go home, Jungkook.” I said firmly. 

“Now?” He blinked. I nodded. 

“Yes now.” I made to move away but this time Yugyeom wrapped both arms around my waist, pinning me to his body. Pain , sharp and unbearable shot up my ribs and I whimpered. He was squeezing too hard and God what if the cracked rib just snapped? 

Panic began setting in and I yelped.

“Let me go you bastard.” I struggled to get away, staring in disbelief at my husband . 

Jungkook was standing but he swayed dangerously. There was no clarity there and his eyes were hooded. He was drunk. Really, really drunk. 

“Jungkook tell him to let me go!!” I yelled , trying to tamp down the panic that was rising up my throat. 

“Don’t worry Kook. Just gonna ask her to wait outside for a while. Why don’t you finish your conversation with Reina.. i’ll entertain your wife for a while.” He drawled and i felt my entire body go ice cold at that. 

Jungkook was blinking rapidly, the words clearly not registering and genuine terror began to bleed into my veins. Jungkook couldn’t even fathom that i was in genuine danger here, let alone help me. Oh God, why had i come alone? Where were the others??

Yugyeom held me tighter and i swallowed a groan . My ribs felt like they were on fire. 

“Let’s take this somewhere private, Heejin?” He whispered into my neck and i couldn’t believe it. Yugyeom was drunk yes, but was this idiot also insane? 

“Wait...no.. Yugeyom don’t be a fucking idiot. If you touch me, that’s fucking rape...You can go to prison for that .” I shouted, trying to drill some sense into his head. He wasn’t going to risk prison to make a point was he?? 

“Not if you seduce me angel...and you’re going to... Or I’ll just tell people you did...same difference , right?” he whispered. 

And then he began dragging me off to the corner and my eyes fell on a side door leading out of the room . 

 If you let him take you there this is going to become frighteningly real,  a voice screamed in my head and I inhale deeply, ready to scream loud enough to get the attention of everyone in the damned building. 

The door opened just as I opened my mouth and I froze, watching Mrs Jeon walk into the lounge, looking lost.

“What is this place?” She muttered out loud looking around and the arms around me fell away so fast, I crashed to the floor. 

“Heejin-ah!” Yoongi’s voice came from right behind her and I flinched, willing my shaking legs to stop trembling. 

“Mrs. Jeon...” I muttered, voice strained and ribs throbbing. 

“Heejin? What is going on here? Where’s my son?” 

“Fuck... Jungkook-ah...” Yoongi moved to get him and I took a deep steadying breath. 

Years ago , I’d taken a self defence class and one thing i’d definitely enjoyed learning was how to throw a punch. And It wasn’t something i’d forgotten. 

Planting my feet firmly , i lightly rotated my hips, a subtle shift, before engaging my core , drawing all the fury and helpless rage inside me into my fist. I pulled my shoulders in and took a deep breath. Punch past your target , i told myself. You’re not just going to break his jaw you’re going to put him in the hospital tonight. 

“Mrs. Jeon, Jungkook had a great time toni-” His voice was all i needed to hear  to know exactly where his mouth was behind me. 

i relaxed my muscles as i threw the punch, contracting them just as my fist landed on Kim Yugyeom’s face.  

The satisfying sound of flesh on bone felt like music to my ears and Yugyeom’s sharp cry of sheer agonizing pain even sweeter. 

He crashed to the floor in a heap and I could feel my fist throb like hell. I was going to bruise so badly. But it was worth it. 

“That was for telling me that you were going to rape me and tell everyone that i seduced you.” I said calmly. 

Yoongi let out a noise of disbelief. 

“What the actual fuck.....” He shouted. 

“Yugyeom what the fuck man? Are you out of your damned mind?” One of his friends yelled. Yugyeom merely groaned. 

He couldn’t answer, blood trickling down his chin and hands cradling his jaw, whimpers falling out of his  mouth. My own fist throbbed like hell so the damage had to be significant. 

Mrs Jeon looked horrified and when she opened her mouth i quickly held a hand up.

“I’m not doing this. Not tonight. “ I said calmly. Jungkook was quiet, the way he always got when he was drunk and I groaned. 

It was going to be a long night. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We need to talk.” I said calmly and Jungkook swallowed. 

“Heejin, I’m -”

“Hear me out first Jungkook.” I said sharply. “ I don’t need your apology, it means nothing to me because it means nothing to you. You’re not sorry that you didn’t help me last night. You’re just angry that you had to help at all. You don’t give a fuck about me. I know that and I’m okay with that. What I’m not okay with is you getting drunk to the point that you don’t even recognize that someone’s in need of help. “ 

I took a deep breath. 

“If you did it to me, you’ll do it to your daughter too. Yugyeom is going to get you drunk someday when you’re taking care of Mina by yourself and then when she needs you, what are you going to do?” 

“You’re right... I shouldn’t have gotten that drunk -”

“I’m only here , talking to you , because of your daughter. If it was just you, I wouldn’t give a damn because you’re an adult and if you make your bed , you can just lie on it. It wouldn’t bother me. But Mina...she’s not capable of making the right choices. She need a father who can make the right choices, because whatever shitty choice you make, your daughter is going to be there along for the ride whether she wants to or not. You drive your car off a cliff tomorrow , she’s going to be there in the car seat laughing because she doesn’t know the consequences of your choices. “ 

I clenched my fists to keep my voice even. To stop myself from yelling. 

“I have something for you. “ 

I grabbed the brown paper wrapped canvas from under the table. 

“It’s a painting . Your wife commissioned me to make this a year ago when she got pregnant.” 

He froze so eerily still that it made me nervous.

“At first , i wasn’t sure if i should be giving it to you because well... because i was marrying you ... I wasn’t sure that it would be right, coming from me ...because I was taking your wife’s place after all...”

i laughed. 

“Now I know that's just bullshit. I don’t have a place in your life. I’m a nobody. This isn’t about me. This is about you. She told me back then that you were nervous about being a father. That was all she said. And she wanted me to pain this. “ I held the canvas out to him. 

“You can see it. I’m going to go stay with Jin oppa for a few days. I want you to see it. It shows how your wife saw you. The kind of father she hoped you would be. I want you to see it and make a choice. You can either get the help you need. “ i took a deep breath, “ Or I’m going to tell Yoongi that you’re incompetent to be a father. He’ll file charges , “ I had to close my eyes to get the next words out, “ and you will lose custody of your daughter.” 

Jungkook inhaled sharply, hands curling into fists on his knees. 

“i hope you make the right choice.” 

I wrapped both my arms around myself and walked out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s note. :

I’m so exhausted I’ll tag people tomorrow! 

.@girlinthemikrokosmos  @xius-exos  @sugainfireslex  @yunkichiee@kpopstudybee @ephyraaaa  @peachoney9795 @ggukkieland  @veronawrites  @blr1004   @tinyhoagiepartylover @btsis7okay@squishyjk  @itsdingdong @emmmui  @honeeybunneey  @yeonkiminnie

@just-me-and-myselfs  @delicate-snow-flake  @kpop-lore  @beautifulvirgobutterfly @sumzysworld  @btsmylife21  @teresaisla

.@melrosaeparker @taestannie @dchimminie  @ meraki--life   @somewhereinthestarss  @mawwnsterr  @kookiesbreaky  @chimchoom 

[phantom-curve]

For @panickosdisordr2, set in a high school AU where everyone is alive, I give you absolutely flustered Luke and poor, sweet, long-suffering Julie.

#38: stroking their leg & #41: sitting close and knees touching

Luke was still getting used to the fact that being Julie’s boyfriend meant he didn’t have to be so nervous about touching her anymore. For so long he had been forced to overthink every single interaction with her, needing to constantly toe the line of friendship even when he wanted so much more. Every touch, every lingering glance, had to be just this side of friendly. And no, he wasn’t always successful. Quite often his glances lingered a beat too long and his touches came close to being more proprietary than he had any right acting as a friend. Luke had made a list of rules to keep himself in check and he repeated them over and over before, during, and after he spent time with Julie.

Rule #1: No looking at Julie for longer than 30 60 seconds.

(30 seconds had been the goal, but who was he kidding? Julie was a freaking wrecking ball of musical talent and wickedly beautiful. 45 seconds was the absolute minimum he could handle, and even that was kind of pushing it.)

Rule #2: No writing blatantly obvious songs about Julie.

(Because really, every song was about Julie. But Julie didn’t need to know every song was about her. And Alex and Reggie really, really didn’t need to know, and no, just because they guessed didn’t mean they knew.)

Rule #3: No looking at Julie’s lips unless there was a microphone between them.

(He barely managed this one, which was why he kept sharing the mic with her more and more the longer they practiced and the more comfortable they became preforming together. It was the best kind of torture, and it wasn’t creepy, Alex, pay attention to drumming and not front people stuff!)

Rule #4: No touching Julie except for her shoulders and her arms and her waist (but only if they were hugging!)

(So what if Luke made sure to hug Julie a lot. He was a touchy-feely kind of guy, everyone knew that, and he only hugged someone after making sure they were okay with it. Julie never pushed him away, in fact she seemed to like the fact that he was so open with affection and comfort. It was fine.)

But dating Julie meant that all of those rules went right out the window. And Luke was still figuring out how to navigate that.

Julie didn’t seem to have any problems on her end. She slipped seamlessly from best friend to girlfriend without missing a beat. She would lean into him when they sat next to each other during lunch and move his hair out of his face without hesitation as she gazed into his eyes with a million stars dancing in her own. Her touch was casual but affectionate, her fingertips almost always finding some patch of skin to skim across whenever he was within arm’s reach. She kissed her way along his skin with an enviable ease, never holding back because she wasn’t sure he would like it, but instead blazing a path along his cheek or his collarbone or molding her lips against his as if she had always known that was what he so desperately desired most in the world.

Luke would never tell her, but part of his hesitation was because he felt wholly undeserving of her unwavering devotion. What had he ever done to earn someone as bright and beautiful as Julie Molina? He knew if he told her, she would have a million and one reasons why he was wrong, so he mostly kept it to himself and reveled in her easy affection every chance that he got. He should have known that eventually she would call him out on it.

“Luke...do you...not want me to touch you?”

He just hadn’t expected her to ask like that.

They were working on a new song out in the studio, a place Julie had chosen that he had assumed was because she didn’t want Carlos bothering them and because they had easier access to their instruments out there. They were sharing the couch, sitting across from each other with a shared notebook open between them, offering different lyric ideas back and forth as they tried to nail down the right lines. Luke hadn’t even realized that Julie had slowly been moving closer. He had only registered the feeling of their knees brushing occasionally, skin touching skin because his jeans were ripped, and she was wearing a pair of shorts to combat the stifling LA heat. Every time she had leaned in, he had leaned back, his years long set of rules so engrained he had forgotten that he didn’t have to follow them anymore. It was only when Julie quietly posed her question, teeth peeking out to bite down on her lower lip, cute little top gap flashing at him and reminding him that she was his girlfriend now, that he realized what he had been doing.

“Julie, no, of course I want you to touch me!”

Luke felt himself flush from head to toe as he realized how his words had sounded. He scrambled forwards, knocking their knees together painfully, although Julie, to her credit, didn’t even flinch. He took a deep, stuttering breath and tried again.

“I didn’t...I wasn’t trying to move away from you. I just...sometimes I forget I get to do that now.”

Julie quirked a brow and tilted her head slightly. Luke wanted to scratch his eyeballs out so he never had to see her looking so hurt and confused again. He groaned, reaching behind his head to give his hair a soft tug, recentering himself in the moment. He forced himself to meet Julie’s gaze and explain in a way that would actually make sense. He also made sure to scoot forward a bit so that their kneecaps were firmly pressed together, skin to skin.

“I just...for so long I wanted to be able to touch you in any way and have it be totally normal and okay.”

The words weren’t flowing perfectly, and Luke cursed the fact that Julie was able to scramble his brains and mess with the one thing he had always felt confident in. He pushed on though, because this was Julie, and if anyone was going to understand him, it was her.

“But I didn’t...I couldn’t...we weren’t like that, you know? We were friends and yeah, I love my friends, and I hug my friends, and I’m affectionate with them or whatever, but with you it was...different. I didn’t want to just be friends. But I also didn’t know what you wanted, and more than not wanting to just be friends, I didn’t want to not be a friend, so I made these rules. Rules about how I couldn’t say too much or do too much or touch you too much because it would mean more to me than it would to you and that wasn’t fair. And then everything changed, and you liked me too, and now we’re like a freaking dream, like I don’t always believe it kinda dream, and so I fall back on the rules. Because what if I say too much or do too much or touch you too much and I ruin everything?”

That...was a lot more than he had meant to say. But Julie wasn’t looking at him with judgement in her gaze. Her eyes were gentle and warm, her lips parting almost as if she was in awe, her features softening completely. She reached forward, slowly and deliberately, to place her hands along his thighs, just above where their knees were still touching. She leaned in, the pressure of her hands strong and steady, her scent invading his senses until everything in his world shrunk down to nothing more than JulieJulieJulie.

“You could never say or do too much. And you 100% could never touch me too much. Do you know how long I waited for you? Do you know how many rules I tried to come up with, how many nights I told myself over and over again that I needed to just get over you because it was never gonna happen? How many times I was so sure I was going to ruin the band and our friendship because I was so stupidly in love with you and nothing I did could stop it?”

Luke was having a hard time remembering how to breathe. He hadn’t ever thought about any of that. Because Julie had always seemed so confident and self-assured. She had been the one to make the first move that turned them from friends to more. She had been the one to confess how she felt first. She had always been his safety net, taking the plunge before he could, reassuring him so that when he stepped off the ledge, he knew she would be there to catch him.

“God, I love you so much,” his words were fierce and intense as he touched his forehead to hers and whispered them into the small space between their lips. “What the hell would I do without you?”

“Well, you’d probably still be trying to figure out the bridge and ending to Edge of Great without me.”

Luke growled and lunged forward, tackling Julie to the couch, and smothering her shriek beneath his lips. He felt her mouth curve into a smile, the kiss turning sloppy as she giggled uncontrollably. Her hands wound around his shoulders, twisting into the hair along the nape of his neck and threatening to turn him boneless against her. He broke away, propping himself up on his forearms so that his body remained stretched out along hers as he stared down at her.

“I can’t believe I get to be with you. You promise it’s not a dream?”

“If you’re dreaming, I’m dreaming. And I don’t think we can actually share dreams no matter how much we love each other. So, you’d better believe it, babe. I’m yours, forever.”

That did turn Luke boneless, every inch of his being melting down on top of hers, so they were connected from head to toe. Julie didn’t protest. She just pulled him closer, whispered you’ll always be mine against the skin of his neck, her breath hot and spellbinding against his skin. Luke didn’t argue. Who could argue with a goddess like Julie and expect to win? The best prize of all was knowing she loved him just as deeply as he loved her; he wasn’t about to try and convince her otherwise.

If Luke was able to love Julie for the rest of her life, it wouldn’t be nearly long enough for him to show her how much he cared. But that’s what ever afters were made for, right? A lifetime and then some. Luke knew with every fiber of his being that he would love Julie far past the time their respective stars burned out. That’s what destinies were all about. Loving forever and ever and ever. Even after you thought you were gone, the legacy lived on, timeless and unbreakable. That was them. Forever and a day, no end in sight for the rest of eternity.

[aquarianlights]

I am in a serious financial bind. 😥 If anyone is in a position to listen & help or signal boost, pls keep reading...

This is from my apartment complex. I am in low-income housing. I called them & sent them proof I could pay on the 23rd. I told them I could (just barely) put 100 down now & they said that was too little.

They said they would file for eviction on the 16th, which adds $150 to my rent. They will cancel the court date and eviction on the 23rd when I pay.

But that doesn't cancel the $150 filing fee.

Idk where that $150 would come from. Idky they think it's fair that someone who cannot pay should be forced to pay even more??? That makes no sense. I can only just barely afford my rent every month as is.

These are from my energy company. I apparently owe them over $600. I genuinely do not know how this happened. We were on the phone for a very long time trying to figure it out & I was in tears for the latter portion of it because I swear I paid.

I usually keep record of my payments via taking a picture of my receipt since they are electronic, but my dog chewed up my phone (which I have pics of if need be for evidence) and broke it, so I had to get a replacement phone sent to me from the insurance company & nothing transferred from the old phone, so all my pics were wiped.

I found no record in my emails, either.

The meds I am taking to try to go into remission and the autoimmune disease itself both cause brain fog and issues with time warping, so it is possible maybe I skipped a month or something, but I highly doubt I would have skipped up to 600+ dollars worth of payments.

I have tons of electronic and hard copy calendars & they are all synced and constantly updated so that I know when payments are due. I also have text and email reminders sent to me, but I could find no reminders in my email for MONTHS now until they were telling me they were going to shut my power off if I didn't pay this. Idk why I was not sent reminders for months???

In the end, I agreed to set up a payment plan. Paying, like... 50-60ish on top of whatever my electric bill is every month for 12 months. It was the lowest they could go.

I can barely afford my electric bill as it is, so idk how I will be able to do this? They did give me a list of charities in my area so I will be using what little energy I have to call around & see if any of them would be willing to help me pay this. Idk how those work (they're mostly churches???), so I'm just gonna try & see what happens. 🤔

On top of all that, I *think* this is telling me my Medicaid has been cancelled but I'm not 100% sure?????

I'm going through treatment for a very serious, disabling problem that should last ~1 year and rn Medicaid is picking up what my Medicare doesn't cover and some of my doctors/specialists and treatments are medicaid only.

If I lose this, I'm basically done.

I know they'll do backpay if I get it back, but Idk if I *will* get it back. I'll be trying to get it back, but in the meantime, I guess I'll just have to pay out of pocket, idk??? Which I do not have.

I have lost almost ALL autonomy due to this autoimmune disease, which (in a very simplified form) is basically my immune cells "eating" my muscle tissue. I can barely get out of bed. Treatment should put me in remission & give me my life back. I am seeing a rheumatologist, neurologist, dermatologist, PCP, physical therapist, psychiatrist, psychologist, and going to a holistic pain treatment center that does a different kind of physical therapy to bring down pain levels (which I was put into that program by my rheum). All of these are in relation to & necessary for my disease. I am going through TONS of testing almost weekly now & trying out treatments like IVIG and chemo where I am in the hospital hooked up to an IV for 4-6+ hrs of that day and the cost of those things without Medicaid picking up what Medicare doesn't cover is astronomical. I have to sign waivers every time I get my blood drawn (which is almost weekly now), do tests, and do treatments saying I will pay if Medicaid does not pick up the extra.

I already have crippling medical debt; I don't need more. I'm scared they won't let me do any more tests or treatments if they see I am just letting it all go to collections & am not paying.

This could mean the difference between having a life worth living (to me) where I am happy & thriving & autonomous or being bed-bound & living a life of just existing from day to day & miserable & in pain & suffering & unable to do anything for myself. This is literally life and death for me because I wouldn't be able to handle continuing to live in the latter scenario. I cannot handle living like I am now. Knowing my treatments are progressing is what keeps me going. Knowing I can go into remission is what keeps me going. Knowing my future is one completely different from now is what keeps me going. But if I cannot have that and am destined to live in this current state, it's just not worth it. I don't know a person alive who would want to live like this.

Finally, my anger noodle needs to get to the vet for MULTIPLE things. Nothing is, like... life threatening or super immediate like his cancer was last year, but they're things that need to be addressed in terms of preventative care & to make sure he isn't in pain.

He needs his trachea checked, possibly x-rays for that, maybe more...

He needs some medication updates, needs a physical, needs a full groom & nail clip under anesthesia (for those who are not familiar with Echo, he has extreme fear-based aggression & usually gets this done under anesthesia; since I worked with him so much, he had his first non-anesthesia nail clip at the beginning of quarantine, but he has gotten worse during quarantine & with my muscle eating disease, I can no longer restrain him & don't have the physical strength to run a brush through his thicker fur as his winter coat is in, so I can no longer groom certain areas of him at home, so his tummy & back legs are matted & I fear he may need to be shaved... which breaks my heart since you don't shave double coat dogs unless medically necessary.), he needs a full physical, & needs to be checked over for MCT's.

He may also need a fecal test or something else, as he has been having odd bowel movements. 😥 His tummy has been upset lately.

I have been crying myself to sleep every single night & often during the day because I cannot get him to the vet. No, it isn't urgent or life threatening. But he is reverse sneezing more than normal & I worry about tracheal collapse, which is a common small dog thing & even MORE common in pomeranians specifically. Every time he has a fit, I think "Oh god, this is it. This is the time I'm gonna have to rush him to the e-vet & get slammed with a huge bill & he is not gonna be okay..."

It breaks my heart to see his legs & belly matted. He is horrible about letting me groom him coz of his aggression so he only gets a full grooms at the vet, but I do short grooming sessions at home with him nightly. Takes about 2 hours just to do the majority of one side of him (not even all of it; just most) coz he needs breaks & lots of praise every few strokes or he will tear me to shreds & hurt himself snapping on the undercoat rake. 😥

But now that my autoimmune disease has atrophied my muscles to the point holding up my phone without something to prop it up feels like I am lifting weights & tires my arms out with a lactic acid burn & pain, I can no longer groom him with the patience he needs & can only groom in 20 minute intervals at the VERY longest. By the time I have gotten one leg done during the week, his entire other side is matted. 😞 Matting on dogs---especially double coat dogs---hurts them. It's like if someone were to wrap your hair around their fingers & then pull it taut. It's a constant pulling pressure on their skin... it's painful & irritates the epidermis. I feel miserable feeling the matting on his back legs & tummy & now feeling the mats beginning to form on the rest of him. He hates me working them out, even with the detangling spray. I know it must hurt so much...

So he may need to be shaved at this point & that will destroy me. I feel sick thinking about it. But anything to get him out of pain. Maybe it is what's best for him while I go through this year of treatment & get my muscles back. But in order to do that, I need to get him to the vet.

The stress of not being able to get him to a vet is tearing me apart & literally making me physically ill.

He is my world. My everything. My #1. My heart dog. My priority in life. My entire universe revolves around him. I would do anything for him. Not a single person, animal, thing, etc, comes before him. It is KILLING me that I cannot provide proper care for him right now. I always always always make sure to sacrifice for him if need be & his things ALWAYS come first, even if it means I'm not eating or not paying bills or whatever. As long as he is taken care of & his needs & wants are met, nothing else matters to me. And right now........ I feel he is suffering because of my finances & the fact my treatment with building my muscles up is not going fast enough.

I cannot control the latter one, but the first one is something I can at least ask for help for. So that is what I am doing.

If anyone is in a place to help, these are my venmo & cashapp codes. I also have paypal.

💙 Venmo: @kqroswell

💚 Cashapp: $kqroswell

💜 Paypal: @kqroswell or thekilliancode@yahoo.com

If there is another form of payment you're thinking of, lemme know. I also have fb pay activated if you have me on FB (Killian Q Roswell).

Thank you to everyone who read through this & anyone who can help or reblog this. 💖

Sincerely,

Your v scared, struggling transman who really wants his bills/rent paid & his dog to go to the vet,

Killian 💞

[immortalcoelacanth]

Little Nightmares 2 Oneshot: The Choices We Make

I PROMISE I’M STILL WORKING ON ALL MY FICS!!! I just got into that mood and had an interesting introspection of the ending and I couldn’t stop myself from writing it down. 

With that being said, there are spoilers for the ending to Little Nightmares 2 here, so if you wanna avoid that I recommend not reading!

Word count: 1559

Summary: She could feel his fingernails sinking into her flesh as he clung to her. She could feel the board underneath her creaking and groaning with their shared weight. She could hear the static of the television, her freedom, buzzing so very, very close behind her. 

She could feel nothing but disgust for the boy that had been her “savior.” 

Stupid.

Moron.

Idiot.

These words repeated themselves over and over in her mind as she glared down at the boy clinging to her hands. Bones that were not as fragile as they appeared ached under the strain, her wrists unused to supporting so much weight, but she refused to let the pain show. Even as his nails dug into her flesh and drew blood, her face remained shrouded in darkness, impassive and blank.

It was what she preferred, of course. Hiding her eyes from the world and letting no one see. The eyes were the windows to the soul, after all. The Viewers did not have them, the televisions had taken them.

Their eyes.

Their souls.

They were weak.

They had stupidly exposed the most vulnerable parts of themselves and suffered the consequences. Been changed by a power they could never comprehend, a strength they lacked, all because they had allowed themselves to fall into the tower’s trap. Their weaknesses had been exploited.

Six refused to be weak.

She would be strong, had to be strong in this world. Being weak would get you killed, or worse. She wanted to survive, to fight and live and break free of the fear that encompassed her life. One day, she would be able to stop running, stop hiding, but for now she had no choice.

She had to wait until she was strong enough to fight back, but until then she had to keep herself alive. A struggle in the best of circumstances, and something that was practically impossible when you had a deadweight dragging you down. Like a brick that had been chained to her ankle as she struggled to stay above the water, always seconds away from drowning and never any closer to freedom.

Mono was weak.

It was something she had noticed right after meeting him. The fact that he had bothered to free her, as if she had been incapable of freeing herself, and the worry that had been clearly expressed made it clear that his emotions ruled him.

He had been concerned about the girl humming her tune and playing her song, stopped whatever he was doing to swoop in and save her from whatever horrible fate awaited her. At least he had proven his worth by helping her get that ladder down and finding the key, but she did not need his help. She did not need him anywhere near as much as he needed her.

The smile that would cross his face as he looked at his presumed companion as he forced her to tag along on a journey that she had never agreed to, his mask everchanging and slowly showing her more and more of his personality.

It was disgusting.

Almost as disgusting as the hope that would fill his eyes whenever she caught him after an especially far jump. Previously, his face had been obscured and hidden by his collection of headwear, eyes safely hidden, but now?

Now the whole world could see them, see how brightly they shone with joy at the fact that she had caught him once again, like she always had.

How dare he.

How dare he.

How dare he smile, be happy, as everything around them crumbled. How dare he become emotional while hanging between life and death. How dare he act like everything was going to be fine once she pulled him up.

How dare he assume she would save him, assume she would save the one who had brought so much angst and fear into her life.

He was the one responsible for everything!

Everything bad that had happened to her had been because of him. She had been captured because of him. Been dragged on this horrible journey because of him. She had been attacked and injured more times than she could count because of him! Battered and bruised, crushed and left tasting blood.

His hand always clamped around her wrist and tugging her along, chaining her to him. His voice always calling out to her, demanding her attention.

He was needy.

He was clingy.  

He was weak.

It was only when she first watched him touch that television, seen how he had instinctively moved towards it, communed with it, that she realized how much trouble she had gotten herself into. He had been oblivious to how she recoiled once she broke him free of the television’s influence. She had seen the door, the eye, and quickly put the pieces together.

He was being manipulated, clear and simple.

How could he not see the trap he was falling into? The road that would lead to his demise, how could he not question it and what he was doing?!

It was obvious!  

So, so painfully obvious…

Instinct was important to survival, but so was asking questions. Why was he being drawn towards the city? Why was he able to commune with the televisions in such a way?

What was behind the door?

He never asked, never bothered to slow down and think during any step of their journey. He had just stubbornly kept moving forward no matter what obstacle they faced or how grim the situation became.

Like the hunter who had been shot by one of his own guns, like the doctor who had been lured into the furnace and burned alive, neither of their foes had stopped to question their actions or think about what was going on. They blindly followed their instincts and it had led to their demise.

And here Mono was, following in their bloody footsteps.

At least the teacher had known when to stop, known that her prey had escaped her. She had not followed the instinct to hunt, to kill, and had left that encounter with her life intact even though she had been one of their most aggressive pursuers.

Even during their escape, he had been weak.

He had allowed his injuries to slow him down, and the tower had closed in on him. Eyes that focused on him, and him alone, and watched as he struggled to jump over the newly formed gaps, stumbled over the bridges of flesh that appeared before him. He was slowing her down.

He had always been slowing her down.

In this world you had to be strong. You could not show weakness. You could not hesitate. You could not depend on others as the world would just take them from you, leaving you alone in the darkness.

Six liked being alone.

There was no one else to hurt her, or be hurt by her.

She liked the darkness.

It was easier to hide, to wait and watch.

The shadows that hid oh, so many monsters. The shadows children had been taught to fear. The flashlights that cut through the gloom and made her eyes ache at the intensity of the light. He had taken the safety of the darkness from her more than once.

She liked her song, her shadows that stretched out before her and made a shape that was far taller than she could ever hope to be. A form strong enough to fight and take what was hers.

Twice now her song had been stolen from her because of him, him and his selfish desires. She did not need him to save her, she did not need him to help her, and she had been put in that situation, the tower, because of him.

She hated him.

Hated him for how weak he was. Hated the audacity he possessed to think that she had ever agreed to help him. Hated that he had assumed that she cared about him as anything more than a helpful partner. Hated the fact that, on the edge of freedom, he dared to drag her down into the darkness with him.

The tower would never let him go. His fate had been sealed long before he entered the city, and he was an idiot to think it would let them escape.

There was no future for her as long as Mono was by her side, his life was chained to this place. There would be no freedom, and she would always be weak.

Resolution steeled her nerves, tensed her muscles, and she lifted her other hand. Not to pull him up, nor to push him down, but to instead move her hood and brush her bangs out of her eyes.

Eyes that had been hidden from him since the start of their journey.

Eyes that burned with malice and hatred.

It was amusing, watching the realization of her feelings dawn on him and seeing the hope fade from his eyes. The shadows that dimmed his eyes and brought her salvation. It made her feel triumphant, even as her shoulders burned and her gut ached-  

To survive you had to be strong.

You had to fight.

You had to do whatever you needed to, no matter the sacrifice.

She would survive.  

His mouth opened, as though he were aware of what her decision already was, the start of him pleading for his life, but she was done with him. She had made up her mind ages ago on what to do with him the moment she was able to.

The choice to break free from the weight that dragged her down. The weight that was holding her back.

And, so…

Six let go.

                                    xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I am so very eager to see all the different theories that are gonna come out and all the cool details and symbolism people will discover as times goes on. I doubt anyone will know for sure what was going on in Six's head when she let Mono go, but I am ready to see the content that comes out of it, angst and otherwise.

Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed reading!

- ImmortalCoelacanth

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Will Vought, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Actor, comedian, and writer Will Vought stars in the most recent season of the critically acclaimed dramedy series, The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel. Additional television credits include The Good Wife, The Good Fight, both Lipstick Jungle and Love Bites, Bones, and Wilfred. Will is also an accomplished comedian, having toured the country opening for Wayne Brady. He got his start in the entertainment industry by contributing to Scott Shannon’s #1 morning show on 95.5 WPLJ, offering David Letterman updates and recaps, which opened the door for him to work for Late Night with Conan O’Brien. Following his work with Conan, Will was offered a position in the West Wing of the White House, working for former President Bill Clinton, where he still continued his radio work on the weekends as the youngest morning show host in the country at just 22 years old. Will went on to serve as head writer for Wayne Brady during his time hosting the The Late Late Show prior to James Corden in 2014 on CBS, and he continues to collaborate with renowned actor and comedian Paul Reiser, including shopping a television pilot they wrote together with Julie Bergman. We got the chance to ask him some questions. Check it out:

Do you have a favorite character arc from season 3 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel?

For Season 3, I’m finding myself really interested in Susie and her journey. I don’t want to spoil it for those getting ready to start the new season or binge the series; however, in the first two seasons, Susie’s been hustling and primarily being of service to Midge while her personal life hangs on by a thread. In season 3, there are so many more layers introduced and opportunities that will ripple into not only her clout as a comedy manager but also her personal life. Also, I’m really invested in Lenny Bruce. Having read so much about him to see his plight on screen told through Amy’s lens is incredible. I don’t know anyone in comedy that doesn’t appreciate what Lenny Bruce did for comedians. The end of the Season 3 premiere is absolutely priceless seen thought the eyes of Tony Shalhoub’s Emmy Award-winning performance as Abe Weissman - Midge’s father.

If everything that you did was narrated, whose voice would you want narrating your life?

HA! That is a great question, and I’ve had to think about it. At first, I thought of the late great voice-over artist Don LaFontaine who moviegoers would remember as the “In A World…” guy who made millions voicing almost every movie trailer ever! BUT…truth be told I think that I would love Seinfeld's voice and lens, and I think it would make my day to day activities far more entertaining to listen to, especially when on the phone with my therapist.  

Can you tell us about a time you bombed (on stage or in an audition)?

Well…the thing that pops to mind was an audition for NBC’s series called Lipstick Jungle. At the time, I was living on Long Island and decided to make the mistake of driving into Manhattan for the audition. Traffic was abhorrent, and you would think that there were mass casualties on the Long Island Expressway resulting in me being almost an hour and forty-five minutes late for the audition. The director of that episode was the one and only Timothy Busfield, whom I loved on Arron Sorkin’s The West Wing. Tim played reporter Danny Concannon - Senior White House Correspondent.

I had no idea that Timothy was going to be at the audition and was mortified when I showed up and saw him in the room because I was so late. It’s not unheard of to not be seen at all if you are late, let alone hours late. I read for the part and left. Tim was gracious. A month later, I got a call saying that I didn’t book that role; however, they were writing me another role and wanted to hire me for it. While on set shooting, Tim told me that when they asked him if he had any ideas for the part and he said, “That guy who came in 2 hours late. He was great. Hire him.” So I thought I bombed — but it worked out in the end.

The USO Tour scene from The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel broke the record for the most number of background actors used in a scene for tv in the state of New York (850). What was it like being a part of such a huge production?

I’ve never worked on Star Wars, but that’s what I was thinking of when we were filming that. It was by far the largest set I’ve ever been on, and yes there were almost 1000 background actors there for almost an entire week, who made up the audience of the USO show that you see in the season 3 premiere. When I met with Amy and Dan for the final audition for the role of Major Buck Brilstein, it was at Steiner Studios in Brooklyn in a small room that’s not much larger than a small studio apartment in Manhattan. It was the three of us and Emmy award-winning casting director Cindy Tolan. We did all the material from the episode, and to juxtapose that to being in an actual hanger with 1000 extras essentially filming a USO show that’s scripted — it was a historic moment in television that wasn’t lost on me.  

What was the audition experience like for your role on The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel?  

I kind of talk about that above. I had a great experience. As with anything, you have to go in a number of times, and then the final callback is with Amy and Dan Sherman Palladino. You are 2 feet away from her, there is a camera, and Cindy Tolan, the casting director, and you create the world and do the scenes — WORD PERFECT! That is a huge thing, and something I was told going in. Be word perfect every time. Their words are like notes on a page. Each one carefully picked and placed, and my job is to take them off the page and bring them to life with a sensibility of 1959 and a guy that’s a major in the army who always wanted to be a comedian but never really got the chance. So, my character is literally living his dream in this episode. Beyond that, you bring your A-game, nail it, and it’s up to Amy and Dan. It happened to go my way, and as I told Amy, I was grateful to get the invitation to play in her world. She wrote and directed this episode, so it was extra special.

Is there a specific role or moment that you feel has defined your career up to this point?

We’ll — this is pretty significant re: working with the Palladino’s.  I thought that The Good Wife was a big deal at the time — as I was part of Bob and Michelle King’s storyline that revealed Josh Charles’ character was murdered.  

It seems that I’m only allowed to act opposite actresses that have won 2 Emmy’s and 2 Golden Globes for Best Actress. LOL.  It’s truly a hard question to answer as each project is different, and as an actor, you hope that one job will open a door or opportunity to another.  That’s what I’ve found, at least over the past few years, so it’s certainly a slow burn.

Years ago, I was the low man on the totem pole at NBC’s Late Night with Conan O’Brien. I was an intern in the writing department under John Groff and often got the chance to appear in sketches on the show. This was an invaluable experience. There was an afternoon where I asked Conan (as I was cleaning his office) if he knew this was what he was going to do from the beginning. I’ll never forget what he said. He told me that, “In his wildest dreams he never thought he would be hosting a late night show.” He described show business as being on a highway. He was a writer in college, wanted to be a writer and set off on the highway with the goal of writing in mind. Along the trip, there were exits: Mad Magazine, The Simpsons, SNL. After each exit, he gets back on the journey. If you want to be a teacher or doctor or lawyer, you know exactly what to do. Go to X school for X years, and then they declare you as such. Boom. You’re it. Hollywood is not like that. Everyone’s path is so different, and how we get to where we are is almost inconsequential when compared to the culmination of the journey. I’ve been blessed to do a lot of different things so far and work with incredible talent that truly moves the needle in this business, and I hope for more opportunities.

What’s your favorite bit or joke from one of your stand-up sets?

I have a new bit I’m working on that’s fueled by my natural anger toward this situation.

I hate paper straws.

If this makes me a horrible person, so be it. If “they” think I don’t care about the EARTH or ENVIRONMENT and support the extinction of humanity because of this — so be it.

Paper straws? Really? Who did this make sense to? Who thought it was a good idea to combine PAPER and WATER?

I’m sure it seemed like a good idea at the time — but it doesn’t work. Three sips into my iced coffee and the thing has disintegrated, and I’m now drinking iced coffee and paper!

If you think paper straws are a good idea, let me ask you one question. Would you like to use a paper condom?

In the future, you’ll be standing in the rain telling your friend you can’t understand why she’s pregnant and soaking wet from holding the paper umbrella.

I will say that if we do switch to paper condoms …. I don’t know about the environment, but we will absolutely ensure the survival of humanity.

Lighting round! Describe each of the following in one word: Who you are, what you value the most, and what you’d be if you were a food item.  

I AM WILL VOUGHT.

I VALUE MOST: MY SON.

IF I WAS A FOOD ITEM, I’D BE A BEYOND BURGER!

What are you working on right now?

Right now, I’m working on sending out subliminal messages via Transcendental Meditation to Adam McKay for a coffee meeting that would result in being cast on the 3rd season of Succession on HBO.  I’d text him, but I don’t have his cell. Do you?

Thanks for taking the time, Will! Catch Season 3 of The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel on Prime Video. 

Photography: Emily Assiran | Grooming Laila Hayani | Styling: Natalia Zemliakova

[avian-writes]

The day we found solitude

The Days: Part 2

Content warnings: anxiety

words: 2,026

You would think after what happened last time, Darian and I would never open that damn Randonautica app again. That we would delete it from his phone, block any website with articles on it, turn off app location completely. That we would suppress that memory deep, deep down until brought up years later in therapy. You would also think wrong.

    Did we want something similar to happen? Proof that what we experienced was real and not just a dual hallucination? Or maybe we wanted a normal experience as proof that it wasn’t real. Or maybe we were just idiots with not enough time on our hands and desperate for something more stimulating than sleeping all day.

    We chose attractor this time. A more dense area should mean not in the middle of the woods again which was honestly our main priority. What could go wrong in a more localized place?

    Well, what could go worse?

    Manifest what you want

What did we want this time? We glanced at each other and didn’t say a word. I don’t even believe I thought of anything. Just complete blankness, manifesting the void dwelling over our space.

Before we could react, it dinged and a map pulled up. A red flag pinpointed a location neither of us recognized. We took the coordinates to Google maps and waited.

  One of the local high schools. Thankfully the nearest one. As much as I loved driving normally, lately all it did was tire me out. But Darian did it last time so it was my turn. We grabbed our bags, now more fully stocked than normal complete with pocket knives and pepper spray, and jumped into my debilitating car.

   The sun started to set during the 20 minute drive there, casting an orange glow across the dashboard where Darian laid his head. Just like I wanted to, but I kept my eyes on the road and ears open for any suspicious sounds my car made, a constant and nerve wracking weight on my chest.

   “What do you think we’ll find?” Darian asked, eyes moving from staring out the window at the dwindling sun to me.

   I shrugged. “This time? Hopefully not a dead animal on school grounds.”

   “I’m not the one calling the police if we do.”

   “Eh, we can just leave it for the seniors to find in the morning.”   Darian chuckled but there was something heavy behind it. I waited a moment but when he didn’t elaborate on his undertoning misery, I reached over and poked his arm. “Hey, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

   He was quiet for a few more seconds, staring down at his lap. “Should we have a plan? Or...something grounding? Just in case something happens again?”

   I looked over at him. His small eyes were now wide with what I recognized as potential worry and fear. Did I feel it as well? It was hard to tell past all the nerves running me down. “We do have something grounding: each other.” I held the gruff of his sleeve and shook it, not taking my own eyes off the road. “We’ll be fine as long as we don’t lose track of each other again.”

   Darian smiled weakly and laughed. “Sappy but yeah, alright. Whatever you say.”

  The gate into the parking lot was left open, probably by a school cop who wasn’t paid enough to care. We easily drove in and around the cracked, gray top pavement to the senior lot. Neither of us went to that school; we were both from out of town. But the lot was fairly easy to navigate.

   After parking where we hoped was out of sight of the cameras, we got out and stared down at my phone where the map blinked back up at us. We looked at each other and he gestured for me to go first. Traitor.

   Following the small dot on the screen, we vultured out of the lot and down the grassy hill towards the stadium. It was completely surrounded by a chain link fence. I looped my frail fingers through the metal bearings and pushed myself up, vaulting over the top and carefully avoiding the circlets at the top. Darian, a known climber of school buildings, easily got up and over. We dropped down on the other side and continued skirting around the hill.

   We ended up at the top, hoping over the knee-high bar that was poorly meant to keep kids off the grass during games. The ticket entrances were just holes in the cement walls for people to come and go. The snack bar was in the middle of them. We wandered over and Darian said nothing as I hoisted myself up onto the counter.

   I leaned back so I could look at the inside in all its upside down glory. Nothing there. Why would there be in Spring?

   I heaved back up, grunting as I did so. “Wanna see if there’s anything in the storage room?”

  But Darian wasn’t paying attention to me. He was staring towards a concrete box standing above the seats, two doors leading no doubt to stairs going up. The announcer’s box.

   “Darian?” I lightly kicked his leg and he jumped. “You okay there?”

   He waved me off. “Yeah, just fazed out there for a moment. What’s back there?”

   I swiveled around and hopped off the counter. “Nothing at all. They must’ve cleared it out once football season was over.”

   “Were you hoping for some months old candy or something?”

  “Candy never goes bad, Darian! We’ve been over this!” We started to laugh but it quickly dimmed to light huffs of breath. The atmosphere was something odd, breaking it seemed like hammering down a barrier to somewhere we didn’t know. Like we were doing something incredibly wrong by even speaking, much less laughing.

   We headed down towards the football field, taking the large stone steps two at a time. Jumping down and giving the illusion of shattering our ankles in the process. We ended up at the 50 yard line. Right in the middle.

   I turned in circles, gazing in confused wonder at the empty concrete seats on one side and the bleachers on the other, designated home and visitor sides respectfully. I had never gone there before, but I felt a strange sense of nostalgia nevertheless. It was like any other high school stadium.

  I would always sit with my family at football games, subtly curling up against the nearest family member as we were surrounded by hundreds of strangers yelling, either cheering happily or screaming in anger.

  Either way, it was overwhelming. I could still feel the cold breath of every surrounding person dragging down my back, their eyes darting to me with every small movement I made. Scrutinizing and judging a life they didn’t know and motives they couldn’t understand.

   That’s when a high-pitched shriek broke through the air.

  The sound pierced my eardrums, shaking my head, brain, mind, everything. I collapsed to my knees and held my hands over my ears in a poor attempt to block out the skull shattering screeching. Nails dug into my hair follicles to rip them from my bare head to overrun the pain searing through my body right then.

   My chest didn’t hurt. It was burning. Fire was trekking its way down my throat, chest cavity, all the way until its journey ended in my legs that were tucked underneath me in a tight ball.

   Then started the roaring sounds, a rumbling scan over the field and steamrolling right over me into the freshly mowed grass. All the wind was knocked out of me and I coughed and choked on purely nothing. My throat hurt but I didn’t dare remove my hands in favor of holding it. I forced myself to look up and nearly passed out.

The previously empty stands were filled with spectators. I turned around, still pressing my hands over my ears as the piercing sound was gradually replaced with roaring voices. Thunderous speaking over one another as if every person was right next to me, each attempting to be heard over everyone else.

   Something covered my hands and I jumped before realizing they were just Darian. I turned my head to see him staring at me confused but alarmed. “Don’t you hear them?” I shouted.

   He shook his head and pressed his hands tighter to my head. My cheeks were hot, my face was hot, every muscle in my body was heat running over deep coals. It was agonizing and all I wanted was for it to stop.

   “Jake!” Darian moved his hands to my face and forced me to look at him. “Just focus on me, okay?”

  I could feel something wet running down my cheeks and I shut my eyes. Shaking my head back and forth, side to side, trying to shake out the spectators’ voice drilling their way into me. The shrieking merged with theirs and everything became a bubble of sound, bouncing off the outside and growing louder.

   Darian suddenly took hold of my hand and started running. I was forced to take it off my ear and the sounds grew louder in my head as they took advantage of the entryway into my mind. We ran across the grass and up the concrete steps amongst the spectators. As we climbed past, they reached out almost skeletal like arms at us, grabbing at our legs.

   One successfully nabbed my ankle and I tripped on the stairs, banging my knee into the solid stone. Sharp pain erupted in my shin and more tears threatened to prick at my eyes. The hand tugged on my ankle and I started to slide down towards the sourced man.

   “Jake!” Darian pulled on my hand but it did little to nothing as I slid down the step, harshly scraping my knee against the concrete. He leapt down next to me and wrapped an arm behind and under my shoulders. “Let him go!”

   He yanked and this time, the skeletal hand let go. He got me to my feet and we ran the rest of the way to the top. As soon as we hit the flat landing, the cheering for our demise got louder.

   I staggered to my knees under the sheer weight of their chaos, but Darian shook his head. “Nope, nope. It’s not doing this again!” He pulled me back up and looked around feverishly. Eyes landing on the announcer’s box, he dragged me along to one of the doors and threw it open.

   He shoved me through and the door slammed shut behind us. The sound dulled but the ringing didn’t. It throbbed my brain cells to smithereens, sending them to combustion inside my small skull.

   “How are you feeling? Can you still hear...whatever it is?”

  He couldn’t hear them. He wasn’t in extreme mental pain from the phantom spectators. But he did believe me and that was all I needed to know. “I can hear them, but not as bad. It just hurts, so much.” I groaned and held my head in my hands, closing my eyes and trying to block out my own pain receptors.

   Darian nodded but judging from his face, he far from understood what was happening. I knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t really registering anything going on, just going through the motions to get out on the other side somewhat intact.

   Diluted and weak, we trudged up the stairs further into the actual announcer’s box. It was a small room with a board nailed to either side up against the far wall to act as a desk. Windows were on all the other three walls and I could see clearly through them that the stands were completely empty.

   My sore knees buckled underneath me and I collapsed to the ground. Darian was at my side instantly and instead of forcing me to stand up again, he helped me lean against the wall and sat down next to me. “Let’s just, stay here for a little while. Then we’ll get out of here.”

   I nodded. “Sounds like a good idea….wanna play sticks?”

   “Sure.”

[gusu-emilu]

seven nights to turn: author's meta

Symbolism & Parallels

Time to be self-indulgent. Am I significant enough to be posting about my own fic lore? Probably not, but here I am. Blame @eldritch-elrics and @qi-ling for telling me I was allowed to do this.

I also want to journal for myself about this story before I forget my thoughts months later. A little fic diary, if you will.

I'm going to talk about the meanings of:

counting nights and days

pruning plants

branding and insignia

kneeling

Counting Nights and Days

Jiang Cheng's state of mind in Chapter 1 is very different from Chapter 4. In the beginning of the story, he is bitter and restless. His memories haunt him. He counts time by nights—has for years—because the nights are harder to make it through.

By the end of the story, he is openly grateful in his narration for Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling's safety, and he has gone from calling himself selfish to giving to Wen Ning out of something more than just guilt. The shift from counting nights to counting days reflects this.

I also played with this concept in the titles and section headers. As a refresher, the chapter titles are 1) from first to fifth night, 2) from sixth to seventh night, 3) turn, 4) from first to fifth day. And of course, the story is called Seven Nights to Turn.

Jiang Cheng "turns" in multiple ways. The surface level turn is from counting nights to days. The emotional turn is how his perception of Wen Ning changes. The physical turn involves kneeling...and I'll talk about that soon.

Wen Ning also has a turn of his own, as he realizes that he isn't as repulsive as he thinks, that he isn't as responsible for the past as he thinks, that Jiang Cheng didn't give him the talismans and tea for the reason he thinks. That he is allowed to express negative emotions once in a while. He can have some catharsis by confessing things to Jiang Cheng that he feels like he can't say to Wei Wuxian or Lan Sizhui. And at the very end of the story, he "turns" to travel to Tanzhou and meet Song Lan, starting a new direction in his life as he can begin to heal and grow on his own. Before coming back to Lotus Pier, of course *wink wink*

Now for the section headers. If you didn't translate them while reading, I'll do that now. Until the "turn," the nights are marked 第一晚 (First Night), 第二晚 (Second Night), etc., and the days are marked 白天 (Daytime). Wen Ning's POV in Chapter 2, aka his breakdown, is marked 未知 (Unknown), because the reader can decide for themselves when that scene happens. It also represents that Wen Ning feels lost in that moment. After the "turn," the night is marked 晚上 (Nighttime), and the days are marked 第一天 (First Day), 第二天 (Second Day), etc. So, the shift from counting nights to days happens on several levels.

Pruning Plants

In Chapter 3, after Jiang Cheng and Wen Ning reach some form of peace, if not a full reconciliation, they sit at the tea table in Wen Ning's cabin, talking about their families or sitting in silence. Wen Ning brings over one of his plants to prune while they sit together.

Snipping away the leaves represents how, throughout the entire story, they bring up moments from the past and find a way to release them. Before they were able to reconcile enough to sit at Wen Ning's tea table (without Jiang Cheng wanting to flip it over), they had to go through explosive confrontations about the past. But finally, some of those grievances are addressed. They can trim away those leaves, and new shoots can grow, because at last they are talking without animosity and beginning to bond.

Trimming away a few leaves doesn't change the plant. Its base is still the same. They can't change or fix anything, but they can make what they have a little less messy.

Actually, I was originally going to have Wen Ning show Jiang Cheng how to prune the plant, and they would trim it together. Now I'm regretting not doing that lol.

Branding and Insignia

I'm just going to pull quotes for this one to show everything in one place. Half of these ideas came from my beta @lady-of-the-lotus.

He wonders if Wen Ning is trying to leave a mark of his own, to carve another scar, to sear a brand of the lost Wen Clan into his skin. (Chapter One)

Jiang Cheng thinks about receiving another permanent mark of the Wen Clan during the hate sex...

A pendant in the window casts a sun-shaped shadow on his face; a faint circle, spoked and distorted. He doesn’t look in the mirror again after that. (Chapter Two)

And the morning after, there's the mark of the Wen Clan, if only in his imagination. Yet another thing to haunt him.

Wen Ning saw. Saw the guqin brush, with its red handle, its black rim and golden tassel. The exact colors of the Wen insignia. (Chapter Two)

But by the end of that chapter, Jiang Cheng begins to empathize with Wen Ning and come to terms with his guilt, and he consciously selects a symbol of the Wen Clan to give to Lan Sizhui as a gift.

The design on the bottom of the cup has burned the red outline of a lotus flower into his skin. (Chapter Four)

By now, Jiang Cheng understands how much Wen Ning sacrificed and suffered, and he wishes he could take away the pain. He heals the burn wound, removing the brand of the Jiang Clan from Wen Ning's skin, and later thanks Wen Ning for saving his family.

As he follows the path of the veins, he realizes how endless they are. Jiang Cheng’s own scars have a clear start. A clear finish. Where does Wen Ning’s suffering end? (Chapter Four)

Wen Ning's black marks are the brand of death.

The rest of the scar/vein symbolism is pretty clear in the story, I think, so I won't discuss it much beyond that.

Kneeling and Parallels

Here's the physical "turn." I didn't intend for this to happen while writing, but it actually has a connection to a scene in CQL.

One of the most emotional scenes in The Untamed is in Episode 36, after Wei Wuxian pulls the nails out of Wen Ning's head to restore his consciousness. Wen Ning, overcome with guilt, kneels at Wei Wuxian's feet. Then Wei Wuxian kneels.

This is a beautiful moment in their relationship. Ningxian (you can interpret that romantically or platonically) always has this...slightly uncomfortable power dynamic? as much as I love them, but in that scene Wei Wuxian physically shows how much he appreciates Wen Ning. That he is sorry. That they are both indebted to each other, but the past wasn't Wen Ning's fault, and they are equals as they kneel in front of each other.

Back to Seven Nights, where there is a lot of kneeling going on, and the meanings are a bit similar.

This story was a challenge to tell mostly from Jiang Cheng's POV, because there is so much in Wen Ning's head that I couldn't put on the page since Jiang Cheng just doesn't know what he's thinking. The reader gets to learn about Wen Ning through Jiang Cheng's eyes, and speculate about the rest of what they don't learn.

But during the hate sex scene, it's significant that Wen Ning is the one kneeling. Despite how much resentment he holds toward Jiang Cheng, he still feels guilty! (He really isn't to blame, but he feels like he is.) He killed Jin Zixuan! That caused Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli to die! He's a corpse, what is he doing touching someone? Expecting that Jiang Cheng would've reached out to him to make peace? Wen Ning is very confused about how he feels about Jiang Cheng, has a complicated relationship with his own humanity and self-confidence, and that leaves him kneeling even when getting revenge.

There's also the attraction element, of course, the classic trope of "enemy sexy," but we're not talking about that right now lol

The next time somebody kneels, it's Jiang Cheng. His guilt toward Wen Ning used to do nothing but torment him. Now he is taking action, physically showing the change in their relationship, kneeling at Wen Ning's feet and healing his hand. The talismans and tea in the first chapter were nice (if misguided) gestures, but he didn't kneel to present those, did he? The sentiment in the first chapter is very different from his treatment of Wen Ning in the last chapter. He understands Wen Ning much better. Admits to himself that he cares about Wen Ning as a person. He's not just caught up in the concept of "unfinished business." He's not held back by his ego.

And then we come full circle, an inverse of the hate sex in the first chapter. This time Jiang Cheng drinks the tea, kneels, and gets to work. And Wen Ning orders him to, which I find very satisfying.

But once he finishes...Wen Ning kneels, too.

They go through both versions of the power structure, and by the end they are stripped, raw, honest, kneeling in front of each other and wrapped in each other's arms. They both had to knock down barriers to get to this point, and it broke them both a little in the process, but now they can start again and move on to something more hopeful.

Just to be clear, this was not planned from the beginning. Wen Ning was never even going to go to Lotus Pier. And once I decided to add that chapter, I only decided to add sex to it a week before posting. So this just kind of happened on its own.

...And I think that's it. I wish this story was longer lol. Seven Nights was supposed to be a 6k oneshot, turned into a near-30k multichap, and I still want to write more. T.T

I might post again about planning/conception for the fic, another diary entry so I don't forget what was going on in my head months or years later when I look back at this story. Idk. Anyway, thanks for reading!

[princess-of-riviaa]

Bewitching the Witcher Part 5

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Summary: Your sickness plays its last hand. As Geralt rushes to save you, will anyone’s efforts be enough to keep you alive? Or is this where you meet your death?

Series summary: You and The Witcher aren’t meant to be together. In fact, the only thing you two should be doing is getting as far away from each other as fast as you can. You shouldn’t. You really fucking shouldn’t. But he’s just too tempting to resist.

Author’s note: This is the final chapter in my first series for The Witcher fandom, and also my first series that I’ve written on tumblr. When I wrote the first part to this I never imagined that the story concept would get as much love as it did. So thank you everyone who has read to this point. SIDENOTE: this part doesn’t contain smut. It’s written purely for the plot. However, the parts prior to this chapter all contain plenty of Geralt love, and I will also be writing more oneshots/headcanons for both the infamous Witcher and his Bard.

You knew it was the last day of your life, but you kept that knowledge to yourself. If you brought it up to either of the protective bastards you’d come to love in the last six months, they wouldn’t let you enjoy it. And you’d be damned if you didn’t enjoy the hell out of your last day on earth.

So you didn’t bother to elaborate when you asked Geralt to make his famous roasted pork. He hunted down a worthy animal in less than twenty minutes and cooked it slowly over the fire, just how you liked it.

And you didn’t let Jaskier evade you when you cornered him in the woods and asked him the question that had been burning a hole in your brain for weeks: “Why did you never try to fuck me?”

Of course, you enjoyed the way his entire body seemed to go red as a tomato in a matter of seconds. “W-what?”

You rolled your eyes at his innocent facade. “Oh, please. You’ve groped everything that breathes. You’ve lied with every woman from Cintra to Nilfgard. So why didn’t you ever try to sleep with me?”

He looked everywhere but directly at you.

“Do you not think I’m beautiful, Jaskier?” You almost laughed at your own question. You hadn’t seen a mirror in a few weeks, though you had no doubt that you resembled a skeleton more than a living, breathing person. You’d never been further from beautiful than at this moment.

But you remembered who you used to be, when the Witcher blood ran strong in your veins. You’d been the perfect height--tall enough to look down on most people but not too gangly--with legs for miles. Your muscled body had curves in all the right places. Your breasts had been huge, your ass even bigger. Eyes followed you wherever you went, as did a line of drooling men. Back when you’d been a goddess of beauty, you hadn’t cared about any of it. Now you longed for it.

“Of course you were, Y/N,” Jaskier replied, then quickly added, “I mean, of course you are. Are, not were.”

“Just tell me why, then,” you pushed.

He laughed, clearly uncomfortable, though he knew you weren’t going to drop it. “Honestly?”

You nodded.

Jaskier kicked the fallen leaves and small tree branches at his feet, still avoiding your gaze. “I used to tell myself it was because you’d probably cut my manhood off if I tried anything.”

You couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped you. Jaskier had once been terrified to get within five feet from you. Now, of course, he was like your protective, annoying older brother. That might have been the one good thing that had come out of your sickness: your newfound relationship with the ridiculously talented bard.

“I wouldn’t have gone that far,” you finally got out, still grinning at him.

He shrugged. “I know.”

“So that wasn’t the real reason,” you realized.

Jaskier finally brought his blue eyes back to yours. “No.”

You sighed. “Don’t make me beg for it, Jas!”

He hesitated. Then, “Because I knew--even from the night Geralt and I first ran into you and you tried to kill him and nearly did--I knew that you were his. You were always his, Y/N, and he was always yours. I’ve never believed in soul mates. I actually think that concept is complete bullshit. We get to choose who we love in this life, that’s what I believe. But you and Geralt... if there’s a better word than soul mates to describe the two of you, then I don’t know it.”

Oh.

You hadn’t been expecting that. Not from Jaskier. Not now--not today.

“Is that a good enough answer for you?” Jaskier wondered, breaking the silence.

All you could do was nod.

...

You convinced Geralt to take you on a hunt. There was no better way to end your last day alive than by killing a monster. And so, after an hour of pleading and convincing, he finally agreed, though probably just so you would shut up about it.

It didn’t take long for you two to find a creature roaming through the woods: a berserker. You found it ironic. On another hunt for a different berserker in a different mountain range during a simpler time, you and Geralt had finally revealed your feelings for each other. A berserker had started all of this. It was only poetic that a berserker would end all of this, too.

But before you could even strike the killing blow to the creature, your nose began dripping. Geralt beheaded the monster for you, much to your annoyance. You wiped your nose with the back of your hand. Geralt’s eyes widened when he glanced back at you. You didn’t have a chance to ask him what was wrong before you were doubled over in a coughing fit. When you pulled your hand away from your mouth, it was stained with blood.

Your nose was bleeding.

You were coughing up blood.

You didn’t have to be a medic to know that your time was just about up.

Geralt, on the other hand, wasn’t about ready to accept it so easily. In a flash you were in his arms and he was running back to your makeshift camp. He didn’t even explain himself to Jaskier before throwing you over Roach and climbing onto the horse behind you. Roach ran like he was desperate to save you, too.

You arrived at the nearest town in a matter of minutes. Geralt carried you in his arms, screaming wildly in the streets for a medic. Finally one approached you. Geralt followed after him.

All you were concerned about was the horrid, metallic smell of your blood. You were covered in it now. You’d also managed to dampen Geralt’s clothes with it, too. If he didn’t always wear all black, his clothes would have been stained.

You laughed at the thought, though it wasn’t particularly funny. Both you and Geralt knew it was a hysterical laugh; your time was down to minutes now.

“Hold on, Y/N,” Geralt muttered to you. He spoke so softly you could barely hear him. “Hold on for me.”

You stared at him as he carried you in his arms. Something hit you, then. The infamous Witcher, the wild beast of a man that Jaskier had written about and made famous throughout the land--most people feared him because he resembled a monster more often than he resembled a man. But with the fear in his eyes right now he looked so... human.

Your fingers were moving through his hair before you’d even realized you’d told your hand to move. “You’re so beautiful, Geralt. Such a beautiful human.”

“Y/N...” There was a warning in his voice, though you couldn’t figure out what he was warning you about.

“It’s okay, my love.” He had to know you were okay, that there was no better place for you in the entire world than in his arms, feeling his Witcher heart beat slowly against your head. “My love... you’re my love, Geralt.”

The world faded around you. All you could see was a man in the distance--a gloriously beautiful man. His dark hair was clipped short and his shining blue eyes looked longingly at a woman just a few paces from him. The girl’s blonde hair flowed in the wind, circling her tiny body.

The girl was--the girl was you. You, as a human. You, with no Witcher blood inside of you.

And the man who looked at you like you were the center of his universe--

That man was Geralt. Human Geralt.

You tried to cry out to him, to get his attention, to say something, but you had no voice. All you could do was watch as the Human You neared Human Geralt and looped your hands together. He kissed the top of your head and you swear you could feel it on your own head, your Witcher head. And then Human You and Human Geralt walked side by side until you disappeared in the distance, never needing to look back because all you needed was right beside you.

You wanted that, you realized. You wanted a long life with Geralt. More than you wanted to be a Witcher. More than you’d ever wanted anything.

You wanted him.

You wanted to be happy because of him.

You wanted him to be happy because of you.

And you’d be damned if you weren’t willing to fight tooth and nail to get that happy ending.

...

The medic told Geralt and Jaskier that you were dead before the medic could have tried to save you with a potion or elixir. The news made Jaskier erupt into a screaming fit, only occasionally broken up by a painful wail. Geralt, by contrast, became still as a statue. He didn’t move for several minutes. Those long minutes eventually stretched into hours. The night passed. Still, he never left your bedside, despite your body growing colder with every passing minute.

“G-Geralt,” Jaskier finally dared to speak up in the first light of dawn.

He didn’t reply. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t do anything but stare at your body like his gaze could bring you back to him.

Jaskier called his name again. “She deserves...” He swallowed back a hiccup before beginning to sniffle. “She deserves a proper burial.”

Geralt didn’t even acknowledge Jaskier’s presence.

Jaskier moved towards your body on the other side of the bed. Finally, Geralt broke out of his trance. He jumped up and threw his arms around you, cradling you into his chest. Jaskier froze. Geralt’s gold eyes were wild and frantic, his sharp teeth blaring, and Jaskier knew that Geralt would kill him before he could get his hands on you. The Witcher resembled an untamed beast claiming his territory. Jaskier wasn’t about to get in the middle of it.

Jaskier left once the sun had fully appeared in the sky, off to get food for him and Geralt and--though he didn’t include this part--to get flowers for your corpse. Months ago, he’d heard you say that lilies were your favorite, so he went off in search of those.

Geralt remained by your side.

It was surprising, in the end, how your witcher had failed to notice anything changing within or outside of your body. His Witcher senses picked up nothing--not the first beat of your heart, a heart which now beat as fast as a human’s and not a Witcher’s; not the way the heat returned to your skin, bringing a pale color with it, brightening your cheeks and reddening your lips; not even the way your eyelids began to flutter like you were dreaming.

In fact, he was oblivious until Jaskier returned and pointed out that you looked eerily far off from dead. That you looked like you were alive and breathing and--

And that you no longer looked like a Witcher. The physical improvements that had transformed your body after you’d passed the witching test--the longer legs, the muscles that rarely tired, the nimble limbs that allowed you to move as fast as the speed of light--were gone.

Geralt watched you with a frozen awareness, waiting for--for something. He didn’t seem to know what to expect. Neither did Jaskier, which became obvious when he squeaked and moved to the corner of the room upon seeing your eyes open.

Your Witcher eyes had been silver. Not gray, not a soft shade of blue, but silver. They’d glowed as ominously as Geralt’s gold ones did.

But now, the eyes that blinked up at the two people you loved most in the world were an undeniable shade of jade green.

Neither Geralt nor Jaskier moved, unsure if you were a ghost or the undead or what.

They watched, Geralt’s hand moving to hover over the dagger strapped to his side, as you lifted yourself into a sitting position. The room was deathly quiet as you took in everything around you. You must have been staying in an infirmary, which you guessed from the sight of a million tiny jars of potions and healing ointments on the table beside your bed. That was the only decoration in the room besides the bed that you currently occupied. It was completely impersonal.

Your eyes flicked to Geralt. It was strange and unexpected, the feeling of terror that crashed through you. You’d only ever known him as a Witcher yourself, and the sight of another mutant like you hadn’t scared you. But now... now your heart was beating fast, and that was human fear running through your veins. Still, despite the warning signs in your mind screaming for you to run from him, you took in the sight of him with relief. Geralt. Your Geralt. Your Witcher.

You never thought you’d see him again.

The tears blurring his gold eyes were the only sign of his relief. His hand still hovered over his weapon, always cautious. There were deep, dark circles under his eyes from the stressful eighteen hours he’d just endured. But he’d never looked more beautiful to you.

You forced yourself to look away from him and turned towards Jaskier. The satchel at his side was full, probably stuffed with bread and cheese and cheap wine for him and Geralt. Orange lilies were crumpled in his hand as he took in the sight of you--very much alive, when you hadn’t been the last time he’d seen you.

“Those flowers are beautiful,” you said. Your voice sounded strange even to your own ears. Not as loud or as demanding; it no longer contained the strength of a Witcher. “But I don’t think they’ll be any good funeral. Perhaps a wedding?”

“You’re... alive.” There was no connotation in Geralt’s voice, the shock too great for him to generate a tone of voice.

You smiled at your Witcher. “I’m alive, my love.”

“H-how?” He blinked his tears away, though a few slipped down his cheeks. You resisted the urge to wipe them away. “The medic, he said you--”

“That Witcher we found a week ago,” you said, a thoughtful frown on your face, “her words finally make sense to me.”

The men just blinked at you, unable to follow along.

You closed your eyes, remembering the words of that ancient Witcher: “The only cure for my sickness is death.” The men were still frowning at you when you looked back at them. “I had to die before I could get better. Death wasn’t the sentence; it was the antidote.”

“You’re... better?” Jaskier asked, looking doubtful.

You looked between the men. “Well, that depends on your perspective, I think.” You looked down at your hands, thin and bony and small--not Witcher hands. “I’m no longer a Witcher. I’m human.”

Geralt sniffed. You looked to him, thinking he’d begun crying, and realized that he was sniffing the air--for your human scent. He paused when it hit him. His eyes went wide. “You are human.”

You hesitated. “Does that... disgust you?”

He didn’t answer with words, but rather with a quick kiss to your mouth. He held you tight against him, his arm wrapped so tightly around you that you could no longer breathe, but you didn’t dare ask him to stop. His mouth moved against yours, every touch a declaration of his relief.

Jaskier cleared his throat.

You two broke apart, looking over at the bard.

“So you’re just... you’re okay now?” He asked you. “You’re not sick?”

“I don’t think so, though I’m not sure,” you admitted. “But I think my Witcher magic was enough to fight the sickness. I think, now that I don’t have my magic anymore, I don’t have the sickness either.”

“So you’ll be okay?” Jaskier’s eyes widened hopefully.

You let yourself smile. “Yes. I’ll be okay.” You looked back at Geralt, whose eyes had never left your face. “Geralt, I’m human.”

He smiled back at you as he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. “So I’m hearing.”

He wasn’t getting it. “We can be together now.”

He frowned, the realization finally hitting him. “We can be together.” It came out as more of a question than a statement.

You looped an arm around his neck and pulled him back against you, giving his mouth a whisper of a kiss. “Marry me, Geralt.”

He pulled back, surprised. “W-what?”

“I want to be with you,” you said. “I want to spend every second for the rest of my human life by your side. I want to be yours--and I want you to be mine. So marry me.”

He laughed. “I never imagined myself being married.”

“Well you should start,” you told him as you slowly rose to your feet, unsure how stable your human body was. “Because I want to marry you. Not in a year, not in a month. Now. I want to marry you today, Geralt.” You pointed at the orange lilies in Jaskier’s hand. “And I want those to be the flowers I carry down the aisle with me.”

[mysticmylifeisamess-enger]

Forget Me Not - Ch. 20

Pairing: Saeran/Reader

Word count: 2,492

Summary: Saeyoung gets ready to throw hands, for realsies

Warning: I mean if you’re reading to this point, there have been a ton of spoilers but I warn again, spoilers for Ray route & Saeyoung’s route. 

A/N: This chapter took me a while to write due to 1) how much I wanted in this & 2) contrary to having more time on my hands, quarantine made it hard to write. I hope that you are all safe during this time, wearing masks, & social distancing ✨ And don’t forget to demand justice for Breonna Taylor

Context references (if you need them): Letters mentioned are from chapter 11 & 15.

AO3 Link | Chapters Masterlist

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (in the works)

What V saw could only be described as his deepest fear; one he didn’t realize he had until it was in sight. A fear that knocked him to the ground, left him watching on as the wrenching feeling deep in his stomach topples him over. He was numb and a voice in the back of his head repeatedly whispered ‘this is over.’

In front of him was a monument to his incompetency; every lingering doubt that led to complete and utter hopelessness, every time he hesitated and it ended up being too late, and every minor mistake that left a crucial impact. It was all too far out of his grasp now.

It blew out the small flame of hope that kept him going, descending into a dark unlike any other and fueling his self-hatred and deprecation. The only thoughts running through his mind is how he could have prevented this, all of this.

~

As the door shut behind him, V slumped against it at the thought of being home. A place that should have felt safe, that should emanate warmth and security, held a menacing and unsettling air that always ran a deep chill down the length of his spine.

“You’re back.”

“Rika, I-”

“I told you not to follow me.”

“You didn’t leave with a choice, I had to see for myself what you were doing,” he said, collecting himself as he pressed forward. “And this has gone too far, you need to end this.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“But you can, and I can help you,” he said as he reached for her hands to fully plea, only to retreat right as soon as he made contact. “Please let me help you end this. I understand wanting to help those people, but this isn’t the way to do it. Those are innocent lives you are hurting.”

“You never understood my intentions and you never will!” She snapped, pacing the room as she spoke. “I’m saving those people from their pain! They look up to me, they need me! How can I turn my backs on them now in their time of need?!”

“This isn’t saving anymore.”

She scoffed at his words, rolling her eyes before continuing.

“You said you would be there for me, help me in any way you can. You said you would always put me and my needs first. What happened to that? Once it’s something as big as this, you want me to stop?”

“Rika-“

A banging on the door startled V in his place, a momentary paralyzation until he heard the voice on the other side.

“V, Rika, open up right now!” He immediately recognized Saeyoung’s voice, followed by incessant pounding that shook the door. He didn’t hesitate to walk over, disregarding the argument at hand.

“What kind of sick fucking game are you two playing here?!” He hissed as the door opened, pushing passed him as he made his way in.

“Is everything oka-“

“You’ve got some fucking nerve to be asking that,” he snapped, though his movements hadn’t ceased as he rummaged through the drawers of their coffee table, moving all over the living room to find any sort of hidden compartment.

“Saeyoung, what has gotten into you?” Rika asked, taken aback by the intrusion.

He didn’t answer, he simply pushed passed her to the hallway, opening each door until he reached her office. He flicked on the light and quickly rummaged through each drawer, the two watching in disbelief from the doorway.

“Well V and I were in the middle of something, I think you need to leave-“

“Found it!” He exclaimed, pulling out handfuls of letters from the bottom drawer.

“Care to explain these to me? And I want the real explanation,” he emphasized his last words with a wave of the papers in his hand.

“I told you, these all piled up on the door of your shop.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie, now tell me the truth.”

“Would I ever lie to you?” She asked, fearlessly inching towards him with the same uncanny smile.

“You are, you’re lying to me right now!”

“I’m not, I told you I found these at your door.”

“Then why did I see you leave them?!” He questioned, voice raising in demand.

She fell stunned, taking a step back at the venomous words aimed at her. Her gaze flicked between him and the letters in his hands, but she couldn’t find it in her to look him in the eyes. Instead, they fell to her feet as she spoke.

“I-,” she paused, collecting her words, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Unbelievable,” he scoffed in annoyance, “I have video from a CCTV of you leaving letters taped to the door the same time we received them. I saw you do it, now tell me why?!”

She was at a loss for words, unable to find a response as her eyes continued to dart anywhere but his. His patience wore thinner, turning back to the desk and sifting through the documents that sat atop. He picked up a journal out of the pile, opened it up, and pointed at the writing on it.

“Is this not your handwriting?” He said, comparing the letters side by side, “It’s a perfect match, now why did you do this?!”

She turned to V, looking for some sort of help from him only to meet an expression that was just as perplexed. He was stunned to see him like this, but he knew this was bound to happen. But he looked at her with slight curiosity as to how she was going to explain this.

“And why didn’t you tell me it was her?!” Saeyoung’s accusatory finger moved to the tall man behind her, “Why did you let her get away with this? You have no idea the mental hell you put us through, and for what?! Tell me why you two did this!”

He was fuming, jaw and fists clenched as he watched them flounder for an answer. A burning rage in his eyes that they had never seen before, practically scorching the two that couldn’t bare to meet his gaze. A long, drawn-out silence only serving to further boil his blood before V broke it.

“Saeyoung, I-I’m so sorry, I-“

“Sorry doesn’t explain it! I want an explanation!”

From his peripheral, V could see Rika contemplating her next words, looking over to him desperate for an answer. She could see the subtle plea in his eyes to tell the truth once and for all, a silent conversation that had Saeyoung frustrated as he watched the two.

“I was scared,” she admitted, finally looking at Saeyoung. His expression hadn’t shifted as he waited for her to go on.

“I didn’t want to lose you and Saeran, I thought you two were slipping from me so I used scare tactics to keep you close. And I know it was wrong and I shouldn’t have done it-“

“Lose us to what?” He interrupted, maintaining his stern gaze, “You’re not making any sense.”

“To MC,” she said, sighing deeply as she continued, “I didn’t get a good feeling from her and I saw Saeran falling in love way too fast. I thought it would lead to him leaving the RFA so I acted on instinct.”

Behind V’s shades was a downcast look of absolute disappointment. The frown on his face deepened slightly, eyes averting from the scene in front of him. He fought back a twinge at the ache in his chest, knowing that the amount of transparency in her statement was none.

“But I shouldn’t have judged so quickly, and I definitely should not have interfered like I did. I’m sorry.”

Her words sounded heartfelt, but something in her features contradicted it. Looking over at V, he found where that sincerity went.

“I can’t forgive you for this, you’re only sorry because I caught you in the act,” he paused, collecting his thoughts, “I have to tell the others about this.”

“No, you can’t tell them anything,” Rika blurted in a panic.

“Why shouldn’t I? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t get them involved.”

“Because even though you’re upset with me right now, I know you still want to trust me. There’s a part of you that, passed this anger, still sees me as your guardian,“ she answered without skipping a beat, regaining her composure. She circled Saeyoung while speaking, as if sizing up her prey, “When I first took you in, I did everything I could to keep the two of you safe while having a normal childhood. I put you two before my own needs and I never regretted it.”

He could still feel her unnerving ambiance fill the room in tenfold, but he couldn’t help her words getting to him. He felt that maybe he owed her that much, a second chance. Her reasoning didn’t add up, the air around this situation only making it more suspicious, but maybe digging deeper wouldn’t turn up anything he didn’t already know.

“This was all just a mistake that’ll never happen again, trust me.”

“You can’t do this again, I won’t give you the chance to even think about doing it once more. If I so much as see anything off about you, I won’t hesitate to tell the rest of the RFA about this.”

“I understand, and you have my word that it won’t. But know my intentions were in the right place,” she said, earning an exasperated, sarcastic laugh.

“You think that leaving threatening notes from someone that wants us dead is ‘in the right place?’ You think that fear mongering and convincing us that we’re in danger correlates with good intentions?” He asked rhetorically, “I knew you were starting to become different, but I didn’t realize you were becoming delusional too.”

“Saeyoung-“ V tried to intervene.

“No, I’m done with you excusing this! You told us you knew exactly who left these from the start, and you continued to let it happen!”

The silence that enveloped the room brought attention to the way his chest rose and fell heavily from tension, taking slow breaths to even out. His fists unclenched to reveal the way his nails dug and marked his palm. Once his shoulders fell, a sudden thought occurred.

“Where were you really?” he asked calmly, watching the puzzled look on V’s face.

“The business trip you were supposedly on the last few days that restricted you from taking our calls. Where were you really?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why not? If it really is just a case of an impulse decision going too far, if you’re not hiding anything, then why can’t you tell me where you were?”

“That,” he started, looking over to Rika before settling on his words, “You’re just going to have to trust me when I tell you that it has nothing to do with this. And that I won’t let this happen again.”

One long look at the taller man, and Saeyoung could see the dark circles under his glasses. His furrowed brows softening with every passing second. And the longer he stared, the more he noticed the features on his face seemed different.

This wasn’t the same V from even a month ago. He seemed tired and worn out, the weight of the world on his shoulders and he couldn’t quite shake it off. But the most noticeable were the bruises behind the dark shades. He was told not to worry about it before, but it only seemed to get worse.

“Alright,” he settled, “I want to trust you. But this can’t happen again.”

“It won’t, you have my word,” V said.

Looking over at Rika, the same feeling of uneasiness from last night surfaced, but with it an anger bubbled in his chest. He couldn’t look at her the same, no words to say as passed the two to leave.

“I’ll walk you out,” V said, following him down the hall and out the door.

Once they were outside and the door clicked closed behind them, Saeyoung noticed the large envelope in V’s hand, eyes darting back up to meet his dark glasses. He extended it forward, waiting for him to take it only to receive a puzzled look.

“What is this?” Saeyoung asked, taking it hesitantly as he opened it.

“It’s every piece of evidence I could find on your father’s crimes,” he said, much more collected than before, “Every election he rigged, hitmen he hired to take out his competition, allegation he avoided by paying someone to look the other way, and countless of other heinous acts. I spent years collecting these, waiting for the right time to expose him publicly and end his hold on the two of you.”

The stack in his hand was thick, sifting through to see exactly what he was describing and more. Everything Saeyoung had found last night and much more sat in his hands.

“Why are you giving this to me now? Why didn’t I get this sooner?”

“There’s still a lot missing, but I felt I owed this to you now. I thought I could take care of this myself, but I’ve proven I can’t. And I need you to help me end this now, I can’t drag this on any longer.”

“Once you feel like you have enough, I’ll help with handling this information,” V continued, “But with this, I have to ask that you keep everything that just happened between us three while I take care of it.”

Saeyoung struggled to look him in the eyes, contemplating the weight of this decision. He knew none of this was right, taking this and staying silent didn’t seem morally correct. But the idea of being out of his father’s grasp, for Saeran’s sake, outweighed the days of psychological torture.

He shoved the documents back into the envelope and without a word, turned to leave. A few steps in and he couldn’t shake a thought that weighed heavy on his mind, turning back around immediately.

“Did,” he paused, collecting himself as he pushed his words out, “Did Rika do that to your eyes?”

V fell silent for a moment, eyes averting his gaze and almost confirming his answer. His expression went cold for a second before they met Saeyoung’s attentive look. It was like watching him collapse in on himself, the V he saw mere seconds ago completely gone.

“She wouldn’t, you don’t have to worry about this” he tried to assure, but his body language contradicted.

“You should head home, you look like you haven’t slept all night.”

Before Saeyoung could respond, he had made his way back inside. A feeling in the pit of his stomach turned at the thought of what V could be walking right back into, contemplating whether he should knock again and find out. But he fought it, instead turning back around and leaving.

[alphacrone]

for it's better to burn out than to fade out of sight (2/?)

rating: T pairings: Yuki & Tohru (platonic), Tohru/Kyo, Yuki/Machi, other canon pairings & friendships summary: In the end, it wasn’t sadness Yuki felt, when Tohru Honda had her memories erased. No, it was anger. And anger he could work with.

<< read previous chapter || read next chapter >>

ii. well, i've got open eyes & an open door

***

Living with the Hanajima family was...stifling. 

No—not stifling! Tohru was so grateful to them for taking her in and for treating her so kindly. Saki’s parents had always been so welcoming to Tohru, and she considered Megumi to be her own younger brother. Even Misa, Hana’s grandmother, to whom Torhu rarely spoke, had doted on her the first night she spent living there, serving her tea and odango. The love and generosity of the Hanajima family was overwhelming, but it soothed an ache in Tohru’s chest she hadn’t realized was there. 

But...the guilt was suffocating her, especially at night, after Hana had fallen asleep and Tohru was left alone with her thoughts. Hirofumi, Hana’s father, already worked so hard to support his mother, wife, and children; surely Torhu was just an unneeded burden in an already full house. She offered to cook, but the kitchen was Misa’s domain. She tried to take over cleaning duties, but Yumi, Hana’s mother, would bat her away with a playful smile, telling her she already worked too hard at her job. Feeling desperate, Tohru even approached Hirofumi about paying rent or utilities, but he’d just given her a stern look and said, “This isn’t a boarding house; you’re our guest.” 

Their kindness brought tears to Tohru’s eyes, but with every grain of rice in her bowl and every inch of space she took up in Hana’s bed, Tohru could only see the growing debt she’d never be able to repay. At least with Grandpa, she’d done the housework, and she’d likely continue to do the same when Aunt Mie and her cousins moved in. Her time living in the tent had been cold and dark and oftentimes scary, but the independence Tohru had come to know had kept her spirits lifted. It all seemed a blur now, weeks out in the woods on her own flowing into tangled memories, but the one constant she’d known was the sense of peace that came from the knowledge that no one was burdened by her existence. She took care of herself so no one else had to. 

Was it lonely? Uo had asked, after she’d calmed down that day in the classroom.

No, Tohru had answered, and it was true. Perhaps the spirit of her mother had been all the company she’d needed, but her memories of the tent always came with a sense of companionship, a sense of safety that surely wasn’t warranted. It wasn’t lonely . 

 Still...something didn’t sit right with Tohru when she thought about it too hard. Those first nights had been clear in her mind, the wind threatening the walls of her tent, the howls of stray dogs nearby, the scuttling of bugs across her skin—it had been difficult, but she’d persevered. After that, though, her time camping felt like a dream, warm and hazy and golden. She remembered the shuffling of papers; the tinkling of windchimes; a cat’s hiss; a boy’s soft laugh. Happy dreams, Tohru supposed, that kept her going during that time. 

She hadn’t been lonely alone in the woods...but she should have been. 

***

“I heard you ate lunch with Prince Yuki yesterday, Tohru,” Uo said as they stretched before gym class. “Those fanclub girls are not happy about it.” 

“Eh?!” Tohru was taken aback. “Yes, Sohma asked to eat lunch with me yesterday, but it’s just because he saw I was sitting by myself. He was being nice.” 

“You think so?” Hana asked, picking at the chipping black paint on her nails. “That’s not something Sohma does often.” 

Uo nodded, hands on her hips. “Come to think of it, the Prince always eats lunch by himself, no matter how many girls pester him. He doesn’t even sit with his cousin.” 

“O-oh? Really? Well…” Tohru tugged on the end of one of her pigtails, face growing warm under the scrutiny of her friends. “Maybe he thought I was lonely. He was very nice, we talked about gardening! Did you know Sohma likes to garden?” 

“What is he, an old lady?” Uo snorted. “Well, just...be careful, Tohru. The Prince might be nice, but his fangirls are rabid .” 

“His waves are...unusual,” Hana commented, more to herself than to her friends. “I don’t know what to make of them.” 

“Unusual?” Tohru tilted her head to the side. “Have you...said that before? About him?” Something about it rang familiar.  

Hana raised an eyebrow. “I have. But I still do not know what it means.” 

“Maybe he’s like you, Hana,” Uo teased, poking Hana’s cheek with her index finger. “Maybe he’s got some secret powers.”

“Oh, wouldn’t that be wonderful!” Tohru exclaimed. “Hana, you’d have a friend like you!” 

The corner of Hana’s twitched up into the ghost of a smile. “We’d have to be friends, first.” 

“Then let’s make friends with him!” Tohru continued, clapping her hands together. “Maybe he can sense waves, too? Can you sense your own waves? Are his like Megumi’s? Or maybe it’s something totally different!” 

“Alright, alright, calm down, Tohru,” Uo said, patting her on the head. “It doesn’t matter what’s wrong with his waves if he turns out to be a shitty friend. One step at a time.” 

“Roger that!” Tohru drew herself up into a very serious salute. Hana laughed softly. “Friends first, waves second!” 

“Maybe if we’re friends with him, he’ll give us produce from his garden…” Uo mused, stretching her arms over her head. In the distance, the gym teacher yelled at them to get into formation for a run around the track. “My old man needs more greens in his diet.” 

“Tohru makes a delicious sukiyaki,” Hana commented casually. “I’m sure it would be even better with garden-grown vegetables.” 

Uo snorted. “It’s not cold enough for nabe, Hana. You just want the meat.” 

“Guilty as charged,” Hana said. 

Tohru laughed with her friends as they began their run with the rest of the class, but a new spark had blossomed in her belly that she couldn’t ignore. If there was something about Sohma, then she had to get him and Hana to become friends. Hana had spent her whole life feeling like an outcast because of powers she’d had since birth. If there was someone out there like her... 

Tohru had noticed it when they ate together, talking lightly about soil and sunlight, but Sohma had the saddest eyes she’d ever seen. They reminded her of the clouds before rain, dark gray and full to bursting. No matter how politely he smiled or how kindly he asked about her day, there was an intense sorrow in his gaze that broke Tohru’s heart. 

If he had powers like Hana then maybe, like her, he’d be alone for a long time, too. 

***

“Oi! Sohma!” 

Tohru held back a meep of surprise when Uo shouted at Sohma from across the classroom the next day during lunch. She’d intended on approaching him herself, after he finished talking to Mayu-sensei, but Uo had beaten her to the punch. Mayu-sensei waved him off, giving Uo an amused smirk, and Sohma approached tentatively. Tohru couldn’t totally blame him; Uo and Hana looked scary when you didn’t know them. 

“Is something wrong, Uotani?” He asked, head tilted. 

“Nope,” she said, then patted the empty desk next to her. “Wanna eat with us?” 

Sohma looked taken aback. “Only if you want to,” Tohru added hurriedly. “If you’re busy or already have plans with friends-”

“No,” Sohma said, still looking uncertain. “I would like to join you. Let me just...grab my lunch.” 

Tohru beamed, relief flooding through her body. “Okay!” 

“What are the waves saying?” Uo asked Hana, leaning back in her chair. Hana mused for a moment as Sohma ducked down to pull his lunch from his bag. 

“I still can’t tell. There’s something...more. Something old.” 

Uo’s eyes lit up in that terrible way that Tohru knew meant teasing was on its way. “You think he’s, like, a 30-year-old pretending to be a high schooler?” 

“Older than that,” Hana said.

Uo gasped, awful grin widening. “50?” 

“50 what?” Sohma sat down next to Uo, lunch in hand. Tohru could feel her face turning pink; if he’d overheard what Uo said-

“50 yen—Hana found a vending machine in the neighborhood that sells Calpis for 50 yen. It’s either a bargain or, like, cursed. Like an urban legend.” 

“Oh.” Sohma didn’t seem to know how to react. “I’ve never had Calpis, but my cousin, Haru, really likes it.” 

“Do you have a lot of cousins, Sohma?” Tohru asked. “We all know Kyo, and now Haru…”

“Yes,” Sohma said around a bite of katsu. “Our extended family is very large, so I don’t have any immediate cousins, but there are a lot of relatives my age who I’m close to.” He cast his eyes down, and Tohru wondered if he didn’t like to talk about his family. 

“That’s so fun!” Tohru said, despite herself. “Growing up it was just me and Mom, so I never had any cousins to play with. I mean, I have cousins, but I’ve never been close with that side of the family…” She trailed off awkwardly, remembering that soon she'd be sharing a house with cousins she didn't know. 

“Do you have any siblings?” Hana asked, and Tohru shot her a grateful smile.

Sohma nodded, mouth curling into a grimace. “An older brother.” 

“Ooh, really?” Uo asked, that teasing glint back in her eyes. “Do you look alike?”

“Yes,” Sohma sighed, and Tohru thought she heard him mutter, “ Unfortunately .” 

“Ha!” Uo rubbed her hands together. “Do you know how crazy the girls around here would get if they knew there was a second, older Prince out there?” 

Sohma flushed. “We may look alike but we are...very different people.” 

“Different how?” Tohru asked. It was hard to imagine someone out there with Sohma’s face but a completely different personality. Was he mean? Outgoing? Aggressive? 

“ Kyon-Kyon !” Uo shouted, tossing her eraser at the other Sohma in the class. “Do you know the Prince’s brother?” 

Kyo chucked the eraser back at Uo, a little too hard, but managed to miss. “Don’t throw things at me, woman!” His eyes moved from Uo, to Tohru, then over to Sohma, and a disgruntled frown settled over his features. “What do you want?” 

Uo turned in her seat to better face him. “Do you know Sohma’s brother? He’s your cousin, too, right?” 

“Ayame?” Kyo asked, spitting out the name with disgust. “He’s an annoying bastard, is what he is. He never shuts up .” 

“Really?” Uo cackled, tilting back in her chair. “Tell us more.” 

“What the hell? No!” Kyo growled. “Make that idiot next to you tell you about Ayame; it’s his brother.” 

Yuki shrugged, bringing rice to his mouth. “He’s not wrong. My brother is loud and inconsiderate.”

Uo laughed again and slapped Sohma on the shoulder. “That’s rough, man!” 

Tohru tittered, wondering if she should divert the conversation away from family, when she caught Hana’s gaze pierce over her shoulder. Tohru turned, and saw that Hana was staring at Kyo, who’d gone back to napping against the windowsill. The look in Hana’s eyes was uncertain...confusion, maybe? Intrigue? 

“Hey, we got some time before class, right?” Uo asked, leaning over to rummage through her bag. “Who wants to play daihinmin?” 

“Oh, that sounds fun!” Tohru said, grateful for the distraction. “Sohma, would you like to play with us?” 

Sohma looked vaguely bewildered. “Oh...yes, I would like that. But I don’t know the rules.”

“Don’t worry, I always forget them!” Tohru assured him. “Hana’s good at explaining it.” 

Sohma cracked a smile—a true, genuine smile—and nodded. “Sounds fun.” 

By the time class started, Tohru was losing miserably, but Sohma was more relaxed than she’d ever seen him before, even as Uo teased him and Hana stared unnervingly. The site made her smile so hard, she thought her face would split in two. 

***

Tohru didn’t mean to overhear the fight. She’d left her notebook in class and had run back to get it. But as she headed back to where Hana and Uo waited, she turned a corner and stumbled upon the two Sohma cousins locked in a heated argument. A part of her was curious, and another part worried, so she ducked back behind the corner and listened. 

“-doing, talking to her? Are you trying to make Akito mad?” 

“Akito can’t get mad if he doesn’t know. Are you going to tell him?” 

“Fuck, no!” Kyo hit the wall next to Sohma’s head. “But he’ll find out, he always finds out. You think it’ll stop with him pulling us out of this school? You think he won’t hurt her, just to spite you?” 

“I’m not stupid, cat ,” Sohma hissed, grabbing Kyo by the front of his shirt. “I know better than anyone what Akito can and will do. But I’m not going to let fear of him keep me from being happy. Not anymore.” 

Kyo growled and aimed a punch towards Sohma’s face. Tohru gasped, but Sohma was quick, and dodged out of the way just in time. There was a loud clang as Kyo’s fist collided with the locker where Sohma’s head had just been. 

“If she gets hurt,” he hissed, voice low and deadly calm. “I will kill you, damn rat.” 

“If she gets hurt,” Sohma replied. “I’m not the one you should kill. Get your priorities straight.” 

Before Kyo could reply, Sohma walked away, head held high. Tohru watched him disappear, then saw Kyo sink to the ground, cradling his hand. The locker he’d punched was dented, and Tohru could see specks of red forming on Kyo’s knuckles. Despite herself, Tohru hurried forward, sinking to her knees in front of Kyo. 

“Are you okay?” She asked, reaching out to look at Kyo’s hand. He snatched it away, face growing pale. 

“How much did you hear?” He demanded, eyes narrowing. “How much?!”

“A-ah, well,” Tohru pulled her hands back and settled them on her lap. “Something about a person named Akito? And you’re afraid Akito will hurt someone else? I didn’t really understand what was going on, but you two were really angry about it…” 

Kyo’s shoulders sagged, and he seemed to deflate. “It doesn’t involve you, so don’t go poking your nose into places it doesn’t belong, okay?” 

“Y-yes! Okay,” Tohru nodded. 

“I’m serious,” Kyo said. “Akito...Akito is dangerous. Me n’ Yuki can handle him, so don’t try to get involved with this. You’ll just get hurt.” 

Tohru couldn’t help but feel warmth towards Kyo. He was worried about her. She’d thought he had a softer side to him that he didn’t show to other people, and she was right. “Okay,” Tohru repeated. “But the person you’re worried about, will she be okay? Should we go to the police?” 

Kyo almost smiled. “Nah, she’ll be okay. I’m watching out for her, so she’s got nothing to worry about.” 

“That’s sweet,” Tohru said, beaming. “She’s lucky to have her own guard dog, huh?” 

“Cat.” 

“Huh?” 

There was a light flush on Kyo’s face as he muttered, “I’m more of a cat than a dog.” 

Tohru laughed. “I can see that! You’re skittish around people, until you warm up to them. And you nap in class a lot .” 

Kyo huffed and gently bopped Tohru’s head with his good hand. “Yeah, yeah. You better get going, or wave girl and the yankee will tear apart the school looking for you.” 

“Oh, you’re right! They’re probably worried I’ve been gone so long!” Tohru stood and brushed off her skirt. “I have bandaids in my bag, if you want to come with me. We could patch up your hand.” 

Kyo waved her off. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I heal quick.” 

“Okay. See you later, Sohma,” she said, waving as she began to turn. 

“Kyo.” 

“Hmm?” Tohru paused and looked back. “What?” 

“Kyo,” he repeated, not meeting her eyes. “Call me Kyo.” 

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. See you later... Kyo .”

Tohru ran off to meet her friends, heart feeling light. Maybe, just maybe, she’d befriended more than one Sohma boy today. 

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Rasputin And His Queen (Steve Harrington x fem!reader)

Description: Everyone loves Halloween. And when you say everyone, you mean everyone - the kids LOVE trick or treating, teenagers love Halloween parties and the adults love both decorating the house and to have a nice, calm night. And since one particular day, Steve Harrington fell in love with that day as well.

A/N: Inspired by Boney M’s song Rasputin bcs why not?

A/N 2: Celebration of Halloween and The King Man’s Rasputin except I am late to both parties. And I ooop.

AU where Nancy and Steve broke up before the summer break and not on the Halloween party of 84’. Just pretend that it was a normal summer party. His friendship with Dustin is still on thin ice, season 2 hasn't started officially in this one-shot.

Warnings: Billy acting like a fucking shithead he is.

The commies, the Russians, red swines - no matter how you decided to name them, they were hated in the USA. But from time to time, you still met a Russian in your country or those who ran away from Ukraine - and most of the time, they were cool.

And since you were small, your mom took care of an old Russian lady named Anna - even if your dad wasn't very fond of your mom friending with someone who was born in Russia, your mom decided that Anna needs her help. She was old, fragile and barely took care of her. You spent every Wednesday and Sunday with that lady, you were at her place and when you were lucky and Anna was able to speak with you, she was telling you about Russian history. Her English wasn't exactly the best, but over time, you learned how to understand Anna.

No, she was not telling you stories of Lenin or Stalin, not about the commies, no. She was talking about the history of the old, great Russia, she spoke about the last czar family of the Romanovs. When you were older, she even told you about the big rumors going about the family’s relationship to a strange man named Rasputin. She was old enough at the time to remember the time when the dynasty was ruined and practically burned down, how they hunted every one of them.

Her mother was very fond of the czar imperial family, so Anna could even show you some photos of the family. It was a fairytale you didn't have in the USA - a big royal family with beautiful women, something like princesses, big balls, a beautiful dress, and the most expansive jewelry. You loved to listen about the tsars even if you had to keep your mouth shut.

And when Anna had died in the March of 84’ at the age of 87, you wanted to show her some respect without the others telling you that you might be a commie - so you decided to do it on the Halloween night. You started the preparations very early - you had a big crown on you had made from old jewelry and some shining stones, you used old shirts she gave you in her will. They were old and from Russia, there was a corset decorated with flowers and shirts that showed way more than they hid.

But when you were done with your costume, it looked pretty lit - the upper part was an imitation of Alexandra Foedorovna's dress from one photo, but you decided to have pants decorated with jewelry and high boots instead of a dress.

You kept the costume as a secret - only your mom and your best friend knew about it. Your mom found it nice - your best friend was a bit worried about it. But is suited you like hell when you had the perfect hairstyle and the right make-up.

You had your gang at school - it was you, your best friend Clara, and two boys - Steve and Lenny. Steve joined you after his break up with Nancy Wheeler, who was a really nice and beautiful girl, and ever since, you hung out really often.

It was basically the last Halloween you were able to be together - after that, Clara was going to NYC, Lenny was moving out to Alaska and you were going on a college in a near town. So that Halloween had to be perfect.

You knew Steve Harrington since you were a small child - that was the curse of growing up in a small town named Hawkins, Indiana. Estimated population? 30.000 people - maybe more, maybe less. There was a shit-ton of weird things going on in the last two years. But yeah, you knew almost everybody from your neighborhood. And since Steve was living in the house next to you, you had some pretty cringy photos and memories together.

But you only saw him as the neighborhood who sometimes greeted you as you grew up, but it became blatantly obvious when he joined your group of friends. Clara could tell right away that he has those puppy eyes for you only and that finds you funny and cute as hell. But you just laughed at that - you were sure that when he gets the first option to leave your group for better, more popular friends, he will just do that without thinking.

But as the time passed by, Clara and Lenny caught Steve stare numerous times, he was laughing at things you've said that weren't even a bit funny and he always ASKED you to help him with studies and homework. Every time you told your gang that you have to watch over your younger, dumb sister, he volunteered to take you both out - to watch a movie, to just hang out at the playground or to grab some food. And you usually accepted his offers - but you never saw the real reason behind that.

When he saw you walking down the hall with a smile on your face, telling Clara something that happened, he liked the way you looked and presented yourself. For the first week, he was telling himself that it is only the shock from breaking up with Nance - that he is only searching for a pretty face to like. But then he started his long-forgotten childhood friendship with you again - he took only small steps at a time. It officially had started when you met up at Burger King to have a study night. 

Since then, he was not only a member of your gang; but he felt something. Some nudge in his head telling him that there is something about the girl with two ponytails and shiny swimsuit he had on a photograph in his childhood album.

Steve could just tell you how he felt, serve it on a silver plate or just kiss you already; but you two were seriously too dumb for that.

The final nail in the coffin was when Steve waited for Clara outside the chemistry class just to ask her this:

"Do you know what is Y/N wearing for this Halloween?" - He leaned next to her cabin with his shoulder, chewing on a piece of gum. Steve, the Great Hair™ Harrington was trying to look as cool as he could, not giving too much away. But Clara could tell that he's nervous while he asked that question.

"I do. Why?" - She took out the book she had to read for English and which she decided she will continue with during the lunch break.

"I just want to surprise her by doing... A pair costume? I was just saying that she might find it funny?" - Steve shrugged his shoulders and took his sunglasses off. Idiot. He didn't really know how to wear them, did he? - "So... Will you tell me or you'll leave me hanging? I really don't want to go ask her mum this afternoon."

Clara chuckled and walked the hall down with Steve. Jesus, that boy was willing to sacrifice his dignity just to find out what you're Halloween costume is. And that you'll find it funny? Sure you will. And maybe it will fucking finally release the tension which is at the table in the cafeteria while Steve sits on the other side of the table and watches you like a statue from the antique Rome. There was this electricity which he was sending your way, but you were totally numb to pick up on.

"Under one circumstance, dear Harrington." - Clara rose her eyebrows and walked the hall alongside the big basketball jock. Steve sighed and looked at her. 

“I am not going to drive you to school every single morning, Clara. Not happening.” - Steve shook his head with a frown. Clara left out a burst of genuine laughter. 

“You will ask her out finally. That's the deal - if you don't, you will be explaining Mrs. Y/L/N why you need to know what is her daughter wearing for Halloween so desperately.” - She turned to the lab, he copied Clara’s moves and almost took down a girl who wasn't watching her way. Steve looked shocked - that was the first time Clara could see him like that.

“Take her out? We’re out like.. All the time.” - He said without a clue. Clara rolled her eyes, caught his upper arm and stopped him pretty aggressively. 

“Now listen to me, Harrington, because I am not gonna repeat myself. I am sick of how in love you look when she sits her ass on the opposite side of the table, how you run with her everywhere she goes like a lovesick puppy and how desperately you want to bang her or kiss her, I don't really care, Harrington. All I know is that she is my best friend and that you genuinely want to make her happy because if you didn't and just lost your interest in her, then this whole fucking thing wouldn't be going on for almost four months. Are we clear?” - Clara burst at him so quickly that steve froze down and looked at her in shock. 

She was right in every single point. It was only a rumor that Steve the Idiot™ Harrington is still a ladies man or that he is doing it for the fame - all he wanted was just a few good friends and a loving girlfriend. 

“I don't want to... Only bang her.” - Steve stuttered out in shock. Clara opened up her mouth and then shut it tight again. Was she too hard on Steve? He was as red as an Italian tomato and he was looking everywhere except her eyes.

“That is not the point, you idiot!” - She dragged him to the side of the corridor. - “The point is that I want you to date already, dipshit!”

“Hey, do not be so harsh, I understood what you mean. You just looked like you want to murder me and I just didn't know what the hell should I say dingus.” - Steve answered aggressively as well, which made Clara shut up for a second as well. Ok. So Steve was able to defend him, which made her smile. 

“Will you ask her out if I tell you?” - Clara offered him her hand and Steve looked at it with a frown. - “That is the deal. Take it or leave it, asshole.”

And like that, he just made a deal with the devil called Clara by the locals who happened to be your bestie as well. 

“Alexandra Feodorovna. The last big czarina of Russia. You have two options.” - Clara started talking when they slowly moved towards the classroom again. - “Either you can go as her husband, Nicholas Romanov or the mystical ladies man Rasputin.” 

“Rasputin? Like that Europian song? Russia’s biggest love machine?” - Steve joked a bit but turned his smile down when he saw her risen eyebrows. - “How did they look like? Where should I look it up?” - He asked desperately. But Clara didn't answer as she walked into the classroom. 

There you were again, dressed in your prettiest sweater and the prettiest jeans ever, your hair resembling Joyce Byers’s in a way, but it looked... Hot on you. You smiled at them and started to ramble about yesterday’s chemistry test - which Steve completely fucked up. 

That evening Steve the Dingus™ Harrington did something he thought he would never do - he visited the library for the first time ever. The librarian lady looked him up and down like she couldn't actually believe her eyes.

“Can I do something for you?” - She, Mrs. Remsay, looked almost amazed by Steve Harrington visiting the library. 

“Yes. Definitely, you can. Where can I find the history of the Romanovs? They're supposed to be a... Russian royal family of cars?” - Steve smiled at her nervously. Great. Now, she will think that he is a commie. Or that he is planning to be one. - “It is... For a Halloween costume, Mrs. Remsay. I swear to God that I am not with the Russians.”

“First of all, no offense, but you don't have the capacity of being a Russian spy. The Romanovs were a czar dynasty, not cars. Second of all, those books are in historic literature and third of all, five books at a time.” - She gave him a library card with a smile. Steve took it from her small palm without anything to say - she just ultimately called him dumb. But yeah, he probably hadn't got the capacity of being a Russian spy - even his essays sucked.

He sat there the whole afternoon, going through three to five books about them. Only one had a picture of that mysterious man Rasputin he knew about only from a disco song - and god, wasn't that man weird?

But what needed to be done, that needed to be done. Steve did his best - he got himself a fake beard, got an old coat which looked like it is going to fall apart any minute and rosemary with some pants and boots. When he looked at himself, he needed to say that it isn't that bad after all - but he wasn't as weird as that man. 

You decided to meet up at your place - Clara was dressed up as Cleopatra who was mummified and was brought back to life, so she had loads of toilet paper and gazes around her along with some crazy make-up and a crown in her hair. Lenny was going as his superhero idol, Batman. And he did look funny. 

But you definitely took the longest to prepare - Anna always told you that czarina Alexandra was a breathtaking young woman who was beautiful and you wanted to do her justice. Only braiding your big czarina crown and the veil going with that, falling on your back, took you more than half an hour. Then the make-up, small details... You took three hours to get done, but you were perfect. Your little bratty sister almost yelled that she wants you to take it all off so she could be the queen, but your mother didn't let her. 

When you slowly walked the stairs in your house down, you were breathtaking, at least to Steve. He gulped when he saw your neck drowned under all the jewelry and shiny diamonds, your crowned head and the boots with a slight wedge, so you weren't exactly walking high heels, but it made your legs optically longer and your ass more standing out. 

You chuckled when you saw Steve. Was he who you thought he was? 

But before you could ask, there was the Polaroid taking time™ your mother loved and you hated completely. Your mom made all of you make several pictures - you and your sister dressed like a ladybug, you and the Cleo, you and Bat-Man and finally, you and Steve. And didn't you two look like a photo of Alexandra and her devoted healer?

Steve really tried his best to copy that man’s posture and expression as he held the rosemary in front of his chest, his eyes wide open, only so you would have the best picture you could. You posed on a chair with a blank stare into the oblivion - you two really did the best you could.

It was a beautiful photo which you knew that you'll have on your wall with memories. You left the house around six with your mom screaming "be back by ten and not a minute late, young lady" at your back. You walked to Steve’s car so he could drive all four of you to Tammy's house.

She had a crush on Steve since ever and pinned after him since he and Nancy broke up. You hoped the best - Tammy wasn't exactly the nicest, but she wasn't a both either. You two never really got along, but you hoped for the best for Steve.

"So... Uh... Nice costume? - You chuckled while Steve drove the car like a maniac and you needed to hold the crown on the top of your head. - "Who you are?" - You asked again and Clara shifted forward on her seat to listen closely to your conversation.

Steve way really enjoying himself, he was excited about that evening a lot since you were there with him, but at the same time, Billy Hargrove's appearance at the party was making him a bit uneasy. He didn't like that guy - to be honest, he was almost shitting himself around Billy. That boy was a fucking maniac. Steve had a feeling that something is going to fuck up at that party.

"Can't you tell? I am the man from that song. That love machine, that's all me." - He chuckled unsurely and tried to do have a calm expression at the moment. You will see through his lies in a moment and he KNEW THAT.

"So you heard Bonney M's song playing and just told yourself that you'll be Rasputin? That's what you want me to think?" - You laughed. - "Such a coincidence while I'm dressing up as the queen he was rumored to be the lover of, Harrington. Who told you?"

"The wind, I guess?" - Steve looked from the window because you gave him those shiny eyes and a big, bright smile.

"I think it's nice of you. To do a pair costume, I mean, nobody ever done that with me." - You smoothed his shoulder lightly and then looked away. Clara just nudged his chin with her fingers, motioning that NOW'S the chance, but he shook his head and showed her his middle finger up so she would shut. Ok. She and Lenny have a plan on how to get you together anyways, so Steve being a dumb shy bitch wasn't a problem really.

The truth was that there was something magical about Halloween nights. Everyone got dressed up and pretty, they were the costumes they wore and not the people in them. Halloween nights were the best in your life since you were a kid. Your dad always took you trick or treating along with Steve and Deborah, a girl down your street who now was a total bitch. You always wore the same costumes - Steve was a great basketball player, you were a Daisy and Deb was a witch.

The best days of your life - you were just a bunch of friends who ADORED each other. Now, you were just thrown back to those days with Steve walking by your side as Rasputin while you were the queen, your hand always close to each other. But you were too dumb to hold them.

"Can I get you something, your majesty?" - He bowed a bit, making you chuckle a bit.

"A cup of cola would do the trick, my dear." - You patted his shoulder. Steve turned away before you could see that he has that dumb smile on. If there weren't so many people, he would perform the dumb victory dance he did only when he was alone. Steve the biggest ladies man Hawkins ever saw™ Harrington actually did a happy dance around a lot.

A lot of girls actually crossed by and told you that your costume is on point. Yeah. You didn't like when someone was telling you that he's the best... But your costume was DEFINITELY the best out there. The most thought through and the nicest in visage. Plus Steve had done what he had done.

But then you heard someone arguing in the back as you waited next to a living room turned into a dance floor for Steve and your Cola. You looked at Clara with a frown before stepping there.

"And you and your costume? You're just pathetic. Little. Child. Harrington!" - You heard a known voice. It was Billy Hargrove's voice - he was the current tyrant of the Hawkins high school, with his racist, irrational mind.

"Who asked you about your opinion, Hargrove? Keep it to yourself and go home. You're fucking drunk." - And at that moment, you saw as Billy pushed Steve down on a small table, prepared to give him a punch. Everyone froze down for a moment, looking at the two of them before the first gasps of "Billy!" could be heard.

"Stop!" - Nancy Wheeler suddenly jumped between them and tried to tear them apart, but another girl and Johnathan Byers, her current boyfriend, local weirdo and the best photographer you've seen had to help her. - "What the fuck is your problem?!" - Nancy yelled at him, stepping in front of Steve to protect him as she didn't let Hargrove from her stare.

There was something about Nancy Wheeler and you needed to admit that whether she was your best friend's ex who totally broke his heart of the girl you sometimes smiled at in the corridor. There was something about her.

"Steve fucking Harrington is my fucking problem!" - Billy yelled back at her. The situation was getting boiling hot. - "And if you don't get out of the way, your pretty face gets hit as well!"

"If you don't stop treating her, I'll punch your perfect teeth out!" - Jonathan screamed at him which made everyone shut up again. You could barely hear Byers speaking. He was never yelling or raising his voice. - "If you don't back off, Hargrove, I swear that I'll kick you like a little bitch and I that I'll fucking enjoy... Every... Single... Second." - Steve pointed at him and took the same defending position in front of Nance, just a foot away from Billy's face.

You watched Steve with amazement. He was so brave at that moment. He appeared to be so strong and big... To be the protector. And he was protecting the person he hated the most at the moment, even if it wasn't her fault.

"I think you should leave, Billy." - Tammy stepped out of the corner from where she watched the whole situation with fear in her eyes. - "Come around later, man."

And with that, Billy screamed like if he went completely mad at the moment. He was like a little child walking away at a fast pace, shutting the door so quickly that the window next to it shook. Before Nancy had even a chance to speak with Steve, you walked up to him, catching his face in your palms like you were about to kiss him.

But you didn't, you only checked for bruises or blood. You checked that he's alright. And Steve was, he really was, only his back hurt like a bitch since Billy pushed him on a wooden table.

"Steve Harrington." - You sighed dramatically. - "I know that you are a dingus and a friend who always makes me laugh... But this was fucking brave." - You nodded. He turned his face away with a cocky smile and a smile yes on his lips. As your hands slide on the coat which was practically falling apart, you caught his shoulders.

And he felt it. The first bolt of electricity that came from you. Steve could know it because of your eyes - they jumped from his eyes to his lips and you were leaning in like you asked him for permission. But Nancy came next to you and she made you jump away from Steve.

He watched you walk away, your cheeks were reddening as you nervously smiled, shook your head and then you just disappearing in the crowd. His heart sank. Was this the only bolt he was going to get from you? And did Nancy just fuck it up too?

"Thank you, Steve." - She smiled at him in a typical Wheeler manner and smoothed his elbow. - "Thank you for doing this to me. It was nice, I really appreciate it. And about Y/N..." - She looked behind her shoulder and nudged his. - "You guys are incredibly cute together. Go get her and make sure you're doing it properly. Show how great you are." - She leaned in to kiss his cheek and rose her thumbs up before leaning into Jonathan's hug.

Steve looked at Nancy and she only smiled wider, nodding to tell him that he should go. That was when Clara's while came as she leaned to the big stereo.

"Cover me! Lenny! Cover me!" - She yelled, balancing on her right foot, putting the cassette inside. She almost sold her soul to the real devil before she got it, but she managed to get it out of one boy that was pinning after her like hell. So Lenny stood in front of her leaned ass and tried to cover her with his cloak.

When Clara was done, a burst of victory laughter could be heard out of her posh lips. She stood up and pressed play while she leaned her shoulder into the cabinet beside her and Lenny. - "Now, just fucking watch."

You looked around the room when an uptown disco started to play. It was something from the last decade - and all you could was just to laugh when you realized that it's Bonney M's Rasputin. You covered up your mouth. Steve sneaked up beside you so stealthy you almost gave him a slap.

"It looks like someone..." - With that, he looked at Clara with a dead stare. - "Is playing my song. So... Do you wanna?" - Steve smiled at you and he walked to the dancefloor backward. For a moment, you watched him with your eyes partially closed and with a strange smile, but then you walked up to him. Even if the disco rhythm was unbelievably rhythmic and fast and made a lot of people immediately dance, your steps remained slow as you put your hand on Steve's chest, walking around him in a circle, not leaving a single centimeter out of your touch. Jesus, he was burning at that moment.

Then, instead of jumping around, your left palm rose his right and you left it up as you started to walk in circles. He saw that. In a romantic movie, his mom was watching on the TV - some noble princess lady or who danced like that century ago. But when you smiled at him from below the crown in that low light with your reddened cheek, he didn't find it cheesy. It was just... Hot. Hot and sensual.

Then you changed your hand and walked in the other direction.

"I am the czarina, remember?" - You giggled. - "And you're apparently my lover as the lyrics say."

Steve giggled as well, looking around. Clara and Lenny were intensely watching both of you with a big smile, just as a few other people around. They weren't laughing at you, they found you cute as hell. You changed the direction again.

"I sure as hell am, my lady." - Steve answered with a dumb smile, but before he could continue, you took his hand with a laugh and started to spin around, moving your body in the rhythm.

You were everything Nancy couldn't be to Steve. Just a young girl enjoying life, laughing, being happy. And that fool was just in love with you. He danced as well, completing your improvised choreography. Everyone yelled the refrain as loudly as they could, slowly progressing to the last verse of the song. You took his palms into yours and started to slowly leaned in, still singing and getting so close that you caught his shoulders into your palm.

"Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia's greatest love machine, and so they shot him 'til he was dead ." - Everyone yelled and just before the Jamaican singer could say "Ah, those Russians", your lips were on his and your eyes were closed as you hung on his shoulders, making him catch your waist, so he could lean in as well. You, girl, you were the most desperate and the best kisser he has ever kissed until that night.

When you leaned away with your eyes shining and a big, beautiful smile on your lips, he knew that it's his time to get over with his part of the deal before Clara cuts his balls off.

"Well, when we finally made it all clear." - He stood up and looked around. Nobody was staring at you and Clara was changing the cassette again. - "Do you want to hang out? Like a date hang out? Just... I mean, you, me, movie and dinner or something like that?" - He stuttered out as he put you down on the ground. You made a shocked face and caught his face to your hand again, playing with the fake beard.

"Wouldn't you want to know, lover boy?" - You giggled and pressed another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"After all of this? I want you to take me out as soon as you can."

[kumkaniudaku]

The Love Tonight (1)

A/N: A request by @queenbutterfly2018. Thank you for keeping my creative juices flowing. Even if it does take me 7000 years to finish things. 

Summary: The family bonds over Beyonce and a classic movie. 

The Love Tonight (2)

"And I just can't waaaiit...to be KING!"

CoCo silently bopped her head from side to side in the kitchen as she split her attention between washing the dishes and her kids enjoying the third showing of The Lion King in as many weeks. 

Noah let out a small squeal of excitement followed by a laugh that caught Micah's attention. 

"No, Noey! We don't laugh during this part. It's really serious!" When the youngest of the pair responded with a gurgling babble, Micah let out an agitated groan before continuing her explanation. "Simba could get hurt. He didn't listen to his daddy, and now the heenas are looking for him. That's why we have to listen to Mommy and Daddy."

"Good lesson, baby girl," Tasha called from the kitchen, adding a wink to her praise when Micah turned around to acknowledge her mother. 

From the moment she could focus on moving images, Micah became enamored with Simba's timeless tale. Her big eyes would sparkle when she would hear the movie's main theme, the song often doubling as the only sound to keep her quiet when she was restless. 

When she was three, Micah insisted that she would not participate in Halloween festivities if she could not dress as Nala. Her first eating utensil set, big girl underwear, and bed set featured the beloved characters. Even as she found other interests, The Lion King was her first love. 

"Mommy, your favorite song is coming! You gotta sing it!"

Micah wiggled around in her seat while Tasha took a break from cleaning to join her on the couch. Pulling the little one into her lap, CoCo cleared her throat to mimic Scar. 

"I know that your powers of retention are as wet as a warthog's backside. But thick as you are–pay attention! My words are a matter of pride."

Noah perked up as Micah joined the song, becoming the third voice in a chorus of off-key voices. Together they fumbled over lyrics and laughed until their stomachs were sore and the song was over. 

After a moment of silence to catch their breath, Micah broke the silence. "I wish Daddy was here to sing too. He likes to sing the Simba and Nala song with you."

"I know, baby, I know. But Daddy has to be at work."

"Work is mean! Tell him to come home and play!"

"Dadadada." Noah's chanted, adding his two cents in the conversation to make both ladies giggle. 

"How about we call Daddy so you two can say all of this to his face. How does that sound, Pookie Butt?" 

Cheering and made up songs bounced off of the living room walls before echoing on the other side of the phone when Chadwick finally answered. 

"Sounds like I'm missing out on a party back home," he laughed. 

Across the country, the sun had long allowed the moon to have its place in the sky. Chadwick sat in his dimly lit bedroom clad in worn lounge clothes with sleep forcing his eyes half-closed. 

"You sure are. We're watching your favorite movie. Wanna take a guess?"

"Whaaat? Where's my girl? She wouldn't watch The Lion King without me, would she?"

"I only watched a little! Not even the pig song!" 

"You didn't get to...should I sing it," he questioned, already knowing the answer. 

"Yes! Sing it!" 

"Nah, it's time for bed. Mama wouldn't be happy if I did." 

Chadwick put on an award-winning acting performance to sway Micah's opinion before she turned to make a case for why she deserved a song from her favorite singing partner. 

"Please, Mama? Please, please, please, please, puh-LEASE!" 

"Sure, sing the song, Dad." 

While Micah squealed in pleasure, CoCo made sure to give her husband the finger as discreetly as possible. 

"You can do that for as long as you like when I get back, love," he assured with a wink. 

"Sing it, Daddy! One, two, three!"

Straighten in his seat, Chadwick took a deep breath and comically poked his chest out. "WHEN I WAS A YOUNG WARTHOOOG!"

Before her daddy could finish the most boisterous line in the entire film, Micah doubled over and laughed until her whole body vibrated with joy. Even Noah joined in on the laughter despite nodding in and out of sleep in his walker. 

"Sing it again," Micah requested between gasps for air. "Sing it again!" 

"Nuh-uh. It's time for you and another cub to get to bed. Maybe we can sing it in the morning when you're on the way to camp. How's that sound?" 

"You promise?" 

"Double pinky promise, baby girl. First thing in the morning." 

Though visibly upset, Micah accepted the terms of the deal. "Okay. Goodnight, Daddy. I wish you could come home tomorrow." 

"I wish I could too, little one. See you in a few weeks. Be good for your Mama and be nice to your brother." 

Another round of goodnights sealed the deal, sending Micah off to her room to wait on Tasha to tuck her into bed. Chadwick followed her movements as far he could until she was out of camera view. His sad eyes betrayed the smile on his face and caught his wife's attention. 

"I know it's tough, baby, but she understands why you're away. She's just missing you tonight." 

"Doesn't stop me from feeling like the worst dad ever. Now I have to make it up to her." 

"Please, do not send another doll to this house or I will burn it. Send a Birkin instead!" The line on Chadwick's end went silent as he froze and stared. "Hello? Can you hear me? Is this thing frozen?" 

"It ain't frozen. I'm just givin' you a minute to hear what craziness you just said to me." 

"So I don't deserve a bag?"

"You deserve a bag so much that you have a shelf in the closet to stock with as many as you can buy." 

Tasha opened her mouth to respond but found herself interrupted by the sound of toys hitting the hardwood floors close to her. After quickly assessing the situation, neither of them could withhold their laughter. Noah sat slumped in walker with thumb in his mouth to self soothe, deep into a dream that had him smiling with his eyes closed. 

Finally calming down, Chadwick allowed a yawn to slip past his lips. "Alright, baby, I have to be on set early tomorrow." 

"Goodnight, handsome. Sleep well, and don't send any more gifts to this house." 

"You don't tell me what to do, T. Bye!" 

There was no time for Tasha to protest any of her husband's statements as he ended the call abruptly. In the weeks that followed, he would vaguely hint at a surprise when talking to or about Micah. When pressed for further intel, Chadwick would smirk as if he were hiding the most interesting secret in the world, the twinkle in his eye brighter than any star in the sky. 

CoCo began to suspect the true nature of the surprise when she received confirmations for two booked nail appointments and a separate dress fitting. Questioning the keeper of secrets proved to be futile until he returned from work at the tail end of a busy weekday night. 

Micah met him at the edge of the driveway with unbridled excitement, waiting for him to step out of the car and scoop her body into his arms. Once the house was calm and sharing a meal around the dinner table, Chadwick pulled an envelope out of his pocket and quietly sat it on the table. 

Taking a look up while chewing her food, Tasha eyed the package. "Is that a check for me?" 

"No." 

"Plane tickets?" 

"Tickets, but not for a plane." 

"Is it a letter from the Tooth Fairy," Micah inquired. "Because I lost my front teeths. Mommy found them and said the Tooth Fairy would give me monies, but that was a long time ago. I think she forgot."

"She spent the money on dance lessons," Tasha mumbled.

Chadwick cut his eyes at CoCo who mouthed 'what' in response. "Anyway...remember when we told you there was gonna be a new Lion King, Mikey?" 

"Yeah! You said we could see it if I read a whole book by myself. Are we gonna see it?"

"We're gonna do more than see it, baby girl. We are going to…" Chadwick paused for dramatic effect, waiting for a drumroll that Tasha reluctantly provided. 

He listened to her rapidly tap her fingers against the glossy wood grain tabletop. Soon, Micah joined the spectacle, leading the charge for Noah to slam his hands against the tray of his high chair. Chadwick's grin spread across his face as the tension and noise in the room built to deafening levels. 

"Aaron! Spit it out, darn it," Tasha hollered, careful to censor her language. 

"Okay, okay! We're going to...the premiere!" 

For weeks, Chadwick had played this moment in his head countless times, and each encounter ended with the members of his family singing his praises and running around the house in excitement. Instead, they met him with two blank stares and senseless babbling. 

"What's a...a...premiere? I want popcorn." 

"Chad, she's six. Explain why a premiere is better than just going to the theater on Cheap Tuesday. I would also like an explanation." 

As Micah looked between her mother's sarcastic smile and her father's eye roll, she found herself still very confused. She'd only been on a few red carpets in her short lifetime, and none of them involved a brand new movie. It was unreasonable to expect a child to enjoy the bright lights associated with such an event, much less an entire movie without any outbursts or excessive moving. Chadwick hoped that an introduction through the Lion King would be an adequate test run for future instances. 

"A premiere," he started as he lifted Micah out of her chair and into his lap. "Is when special people get all dressed up to see a movie before everyone else. All the people that are in the movie are there too." 

"So I get to see the movie with Timon and Pumbaa?" 

"Well, kind of. You'll meet the actors that play them." 

Micah thought for a moment. "Are these big people that play dress up like you?" 

"Sure... let's go with that." 

"Is Mommy and Noah gonna come with us?" 

"Just Mom. Noah's still too little. But we'll get the DVD when it comes out, and then he can see it at home." From the corner of his eye, Chadwick could see Tasha giving him a thumbs up for his attempt at explaining such a complicated matter to a child. Micah, however, still had questions. 

"I guess I'll go," she shrugged. "Do I get a new dress?" 

"My girl asks the important questions! That's what I'm talking about!" 

Laughing, he shooed his wife away to answer the question. "You drive a hard bargain, Princess. Yes, you and Mommy get new dresses." 

"Yay! I want sparkles on my dress! Wait, I want it to look like mommy's dress. What is your dress gonna look like Mommy? Big and poofy like a princess?"

"Girl, I think we should-" CoCo halted her rand and dramatically covered her mouth to whisper-speak to Micah. "I think we should go to another room because somebody is a little too nosey. Meet me in your room." 

Her dramatic wink was excitedly returned before Micah focused her attention on dashing out of the dining room and up the stairs. When she was out of earshot, Chadwick turned to his wife and smiled. 

"Make sure you go easy on my pockets." 

Standing, Tasha quickly adjusted Noah on her hip and pretended to flip her hair. "Sparkles are expensive, baby. We'll try our best. You just make sure you can keep up." 

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[thinkyoureholy]

Guess Who [6]

.

.

.

Pairing : Kim Jongin x Reader / Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?. Mafia! AU

Words : 2.2k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8.

≫ ──── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ──── ≪

-Y/N’s P.O.V-

He leaned in further into the kiss, his arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me to sit on his lap. I placed my legs on either side of him, straddling his waist. With me on his lap and our chests pressed together there was hardly any space that separated the two of us. He let out a low groan when he felt my tongue swipe at his bottom lip, asking for entrance. He eagerly my tongue in, his meeting mine. I moaned into the kiss, subtly moving my hips against his, grinding against him as I looked for friction. He pulled away from the kiss as soon as he felt me do that, his face still so close to mine his lips brushed against mine. He placed both hands on my hips, stopping me from moving as he let out a shaky breath, looking at me through hooded lips.

“You know once I get started there’s no stopping me, doll. Is this really what you want?” He asked, his voice serious but his eyes full of lust.

I said nothing for a second, looking into his eyes, losing myself in them. I could see the frown on his face at the lack of an answer but instead of answering him with words I closed the distance between the both of us, place a gentle and soft kiss on his lips. I felt him smile into the kiss, his hands on my hips moving down to my thighs, letting me move freely. Actually as I starting moving my hips against his he help guide me to finding the perfect pace. I moaned at the way this all felt, not having felt anything like this in months. I didn’t want to start comparing him with Baekhyun but damn did I feel a difference. With Baekhyun every kiss, every touch had a roughness behind it but Jongin...he was so gentle, as gentle as I remembered him to be. Every touch, every kiss had me wanting more and more each time.

“Wait--wait…” Jongin mumbled against my lips just as I was starting to lift his shirt up.

I pulled away from the kiss, leaning back slightly to give him a confused look. Before I could get a word out he placed his hands underneath my thighs, standing up with me in his arms. I let out a small squeal at the sudden action, drawing a chuckle from his lips. I glared at him for laughing, only getting a grin in response. Again before I could say anything he threw me onto the bed, crawling on top of me. Instead of attached his lips back to mine like I had hoped he would he kissed my neck but unlike other kisses I’ve gotten from him in that area this one tickled. I couldn’t hold back the laugh that slipped from my lips, feeling Jongin smile against my skin. That wasn’t all, I guess he was set on making me laugh as his fingers attacked my sides. I jumped away from his fingers, thrown into a fit of giggles. Within a few seconds I was out of breath, my stomach hurting from all the laughing.

“There it is.” Jongin said with a grin, his eyes shining brightly.

I rose an eyebrow at his words, a hint of a smile still on my lips. He placed his hands on either side of my head, caging me in as he looked down into my eyes, “That laugh...that smile...was what I missed most. I’m glad you haven’t lost the ability to smile and laugh as genuinely as you used to.”

His words had me speechless, a blush rising to my cheeks at hearing them. The softness of his words and the intensity of his stare had my heart going haywire. Without thinking of anything else I reached up to weave my fingers through his hair, pulling him down to kiss his lips but this time with more passion than before. It didn’t take long for us to discard our clothes. By now all the laughs and smiles were replaced by groans, moans, and heavy panting.

-

I stared up at the ceiling blankly for a few seconds, my attention moving to Jongin as he let out a soft snore. I turned over on my side to look at him properly. He had half of his face buried into his pillow, his mouth slightly open. He looked peaceful as he slept, innocent even but the memory of what we just did made me remember he was far from innocent. I reached out a lone finger to trace over his features. I lightly skimmed over his lips, his nose, his cheek, his eye, his eyebrow, even the scar on the side of his mouth with the pad of my fingers. His face scrunched up at the feeling of my finger on his skin but he didn’t move to wake up. I see he’s still as heavy a sleeper as ever, it’s like watching a bear during hibernation.

With a smile I sat up, raking my fingers through my hair to tame the mess he had created. I a sigh I knew there was no use in taming my hair, reaching over the side of the bed to grab a hoodie he had laying on the floor. I knew he sometimes left clothes lying around without washing them for awhile so I sniffed it just in case. Well it didn’t smell bad so I guess it’s clean, besides, it smelled like him so I wasn’t really too picky about it. I pulled the hoodie over my head, keeping the hood on my head instead of pulling it down. I reached over to grab a pair of sweats from his dresser. As I went to stand to put them on I fell straight back to onto the bed, a throbbing sensation coming from my core. He might be gentle with his kisses and touches but not with his dick, fuck just thinking about it had a chill run down my spine, but not a chill of fear no, it was a chill of excitement. I wonder if he’d be up for another round. I froze at those thoughts, shaking my head to get rid of them.

I inhaled deeply before trying to stand up again. I managed to stay standing this time, slipping into the sweats without much difficulty once the throbbing subsided. I gave Jongin one last fleeting gaze before walking out of his room, stuffing the pack of cigarettes and lighter I saw on his dresser into my pocket. I shoved my hands into the pockets of the hoodie, making my way through the dark hallway, somehow finding my way to the stairs without bumping into something or tripping over my own two feet. I made my way downstair quietly, not wanting to wake anyone. I had made it all the way to the bottom, thinking I was in the clear when I heard someone clear their throat from my right. I jumped at the sound, reaching over to turn on a nearby light to see that it was Sehun.

“Geez are you trying to kill me?” I asked, a sigh leaving my lips.

“Where are you going so late at night?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaning back against the wall behind him.

“I need some fresh air...maybe a smoke, gotta clear my head.” I said, heading to the door.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“As of this moment.” I said, exasperated with his questions already, “Can I go now or are you going to interrogate me some more?”

“Why don’t you go back to not caring?” I asked under my breath without thinking.

I didn’t stay behind to see his reaction, already halfway to the door. I didn’t want to see the look on his face, knowing my words struck a nerve, regretting saying it already. I clenched my teeth as I shut the front door behind me, leaning my back against it, staring down at my feet.

I took a deep breath, fishing out the pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and lighting it. I closed my eyes as I took a drag. Since earlier my head had been chaotic, my thoughts a jumbled mess. Letting out a puff of smoke I bit down on my bottom lip, resisting the urge to break down right then and there. I hated that my thoughts were filled with him. Every single one of them were about him. I couldn’t help but think of him all the time and I hated myself for it. I resented him for what he did to me, all the lies, everything he ever did never meant a thing to him and knowing that broke my heart. I loved him with everything I haf, I sacrificed my friends for him for fuck’s sake. At that thought I tossed the cigarette to the floor, stomping on it angrily. I kicked at a nearby pebble angrily. I can’t believe I let him play me like that.

“I-I can’t believe it...it’s true…”

My head shot up at the voice that spoke, my heart rate picking up. I knew that voice, I’d recognize it anywhere. My wide eyes met his as he stood a few feet from me, a lump forming in my throat at the sight of him. I took a step back before I even knew what I was doing, my body reacting faster than my brain. My eyes showed nothing but fear as I stared at him, not taking notice of how ragged he look as if he hadn’t slept right in days. Nothing but pure terror ran through my body at just the sight of him, my body beginning to shake.

“B-Baekhyun…”

He smiled softly at the sound of his name falling from my lips, taking a step towards me. At seeing him do so my heart skipped a beat as I stumbled over my own two feet, backing up into the door. I was shaking like a leaf in the middle of a storm, my heart dropping to the pit of my stomach. My eyes were as wide as a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, seeing his face fall at my reaction.

“Y/N… I’m not here to hurt you I promise. I-I just needed to make sure you really were alive…” He said, his voice soft.

At hearing his words something within me finally snapped. I stopped shaking almost immediately, my body burning with a fire so hot I didn’t know what to do with it. I clenched my hands into fists at my side, my nails digging into my palms so harshly I was sure I was going to draw blood any second now. I stared at him with the most hate filled look I could muster, watching as the frown he wore deepened, hurt flashing in his eyes.

“You promise not to hurt me? You?” I asked with a scoff, pushing myself off the door as I took a step towards him, “That’s fucking rich coming from you consider you fucking shot me.”

“Y/N...I-I’m sorry you don’t know how much I’ve regretted that night I was wrong I-”

“Save your fucking excuses I don’t want to hear them. You’re only here to save yourself after knowing we’re coming after you.” I cut him off, standing directly in front of him now.

“That’s not true...love I-”

“Don’t you dare fucking call me that! You have no right!” I shouted, feeling tears brimming at my eyes at hearing him call me that for the first time in months.

“Y/N...please, listen to me. I-I just came here to apologize.  I know I have no right to even ask for forgiveness but please, I’m begging you at least let me say I’m sorry.” He said, his voice sounding strained as if he was trying not to cry, “I made a huge mistake and I’ll live with that for the rest of my life. I almost killed the woman I love because I was stupid. I could beg for forgiveness a million times and never deserve it.”

I stared at him with a blank look in my eyes for a moment before a dry laugh fell from my lips, “You love me? Please, you never loved me.”

“Y/N I did I swear, I still do.”

“Lies. Everything you’ve ever said to me or done for me were lies, even now it’s all one big lie. You never loved me. Wanna know how I know? Because you don’t destroy the person you love.” I said through gritted teeth, shoving at his chest harshly.

I watched with cold eyes at he stumbled back, the look in his eyes would’ve killed me if I didn’t hate him so much. He deserved to suffer for everything he’s done to me. I wanted to see him suffer as much as I did, hell I wanted him to have it ten times worse. In that moment I threw away all the feelings I had left for him, only keeping one, hate. I was going to use that hate to fuel me in my search for revenge, satisfied in knowing that’d he’d finally get what was coming to him.

“Now leave before I have the guys tie you up and return everything you did to them before finally putting you out of your misery.” I said, watching as a single tear fell from his eyes, “Be glad I haven’t killed you yet. But trust me when the time comes you’ll be begging for your life.”

[kpopfanfictrash]

Castaway (M)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jongin (Kai)

Rating: 18+ (description of plane crash, explicit sex)

Word Count: 7,950

Summary: A plane crash leaves you stranded, somewhere deep in the Pacific Ocean. Your only company is Kim Jongin - though whether this is better than being alone, you still haven’t decided.

It’s been three days on this island.

Three whole days, since Flight 1032 disappeared somewhere over the Pacific. To me, it didn’t disappear. To me, it crashed. Our pilot frantically steering a malfunctioning plane towards a narrow strip of land. Fumes burning the air, people screaming, my head clutched between my legs as I prayed frantically to whatever god I could.

I’m not a religious person, not by a long shot but in that moment I was. I became suddenly convinced of the afterlife, god, damnation and the certainty that I’d done a very poor job with my life. Clutching my backpack overhead and praying to whomever was listening – I swore that I’d be better, if I only lived.

The moment the plane hit the water, there was darkness. The plane sank so quickly, filled so rapidly there was barely time to think. I’m not sure how I found the hole, only that as darkening water filled the cabin – I felt the brush of a current at my ankles. A current which could only mean one thing – that somewhere out there was a hole.

I yelled to anyone who could hear to follow me. Then I took a giant breath and went underwater. Following until I found the hole, punched through the side of the plane during descent. Water rushed past but when I looked back, I saw no one. I don’t even know if anyone even tried to follow. Not all got their masks on in time. Some weren’t even wearing seatbelts, when we fell. I remember there being a lot of blood, in those final moments.

I somehow got out. Kicking and pushing until I made the hole big enough, and then – I swam. Using my last, weary strokes to propel me towards the surface. The moment I broke, I don’t know I’ve ever felt such happiness. Lungs burning, stomach retching as I took in that searing breath of air. Water rushed into my lungs as well, forcing me to choke. My eyes blurred – I don’t know if it was from fear or happiness.

I offered another prayer, my hundredth, to the fact that there was land. Thanking the pilot, for steering us in this direction. Swallowing yet another gulp of sea water, I turned towards shore. Pushing until I no longer could – and then sinking, letting the current carry me in.

I collapsed on the beach. Clothing wet and waterlogged, backpack still somehow on my arms from where I used it as a cushion. I don’t know how I didn’t lose it in the sea – if I’d been more sensible, I would have thrown it at the first chance I got. It probably made my ascent to the surface slower but by that point, I was glad just to have it.

That was three days ago.

Now I lean against a palm tree, trying once more to create a spark. Taking a rock with my right hand and striking it against the left – over and over again. Pausing, I set them both down to wipe sweat from my brow. It’s so hot out. I stare down at the crystalline sea, the water unnervingly calm and clear. The reason for this being a coral reef around the island – Jongin found this out, our first day.

Jongin. The only other person to have made it off the plane. He sat in row 32, seat D. Finding an opening similar to mine, pushing his way out to swim to the surface. Jongin made it to shore before I did and he was the one who found me on the beach – lying half-dead, limp on the sand.

The first sight I saw was him, dark hair disheveled as he looked downwards. Poking me with his right foot until I awoke. I squinted back, trying to decide if he was an angel before a wave of warm, salt water broke over my back.

Gasping, I choked on sea spray while somehow managing to drag myself into a seated position. The sun was bright, burning my shoulders as I heaved onto the sand. Expelling every last bit of salt water from my lungs.

“You’re alive,” he said blankly, while I struggled to regain myself.

Still peering at the island, I remember a momentary wave of panic. “Who are you?” I asked, barely able to get the words out. Scraping past sand and salt lodged in my throat.

The man exhaled, looking down at me with strange emotion in his eyes. “I’m Jongin,” he said softly. Then his gaze lifted past, to the ocean. “I think that we’re the only ones left.”

Staring at him now, emerging from the ocean, I remember. Remember my sudden fear, the way I scuttled backwards. Searching, scanning the horizon for a sign that he was wrong. For some sign he was lying, that someone else would come to help.

There was nothing. Just the clear, blue sky. The deep, blue ocean beyond. Stretching in an endless, limitless void to the edge of the world.

Our plane deep beneath the waves, the crash flooding back to me as I stared at the sea. Jongin informed me then that he’d circled the island once already – and I was the only person he’d come across. It looked as though we were alone.

Now though, Jongin trudges up from the water. He has on his white t-shirt and jeans from the crash, now pretty frayed about the edges. I imagine I don’t look much better, in my navy tank and shorts. Since our arrival I’ve worn my hair in a top knot. Not really caring about things like make-up or clothes, since all our luggage went down with the plane – all except for my small, black backpack.

It’s unfair for Jongin to still look so perfect. I haven’t told him this, but I remember him from the airport. I remember watching him board, a few groups ahead of mine. He has the kind of face you’d remember, with sharp cheekbones and dark, brooding eyes. I remember staring while he walked through security.

When Jongin poked me, half-dead in the sand – I had a very long moment where I thought he was an angel. It soon became clear to me though, that he was not.

Jongin trudges now towards my shade, dropping a bunch of coconuts at my feet. “You get a fire going?” he asks, peering behind me.

I roll my eyes. “If I did, don’t you think you’d see one?”

Jongin looks back up. “Okay, you didn’t make one. Here’s some coconut milk. Drink up.”

He tosses me one and bends, grabbing a second with one hand. Jongin smashes the hulk against a tree, breaking it open. He takes the bottom half in his hands and drinks, turning to find me watching.

I raise both eyebrows. “There’s a stream on this island with fresh water. This is wholly unnecessary.”

Jongin smiles, wiping the back of his mouth with one hand. “Yeah, but if I’m going to be trapped in this real life Castaway – you can bet I’m going to drink coconut milk from a shell.” He glances past, into the forest. “When I was out on the beach just now, there was a cloud coming over the western end of the island. We should probably find shelter.”

I nod, pushing myself to stand. I slide the two rocks into my backpack, figuring I can continue on our way there – one of these times, it’s bound to work. Jongin falls into step beside me as I trek through the rainforest, pushing back limbs of trees and hanging vines.

I shudder as I step through a spider web, hastily brushing silk from both arms. I let Jongin lead after that, grabbing a stick to push away giant, hanging banana leaves. We walk inland, heading away from the ocean. It takes about fifteen minutes to get there – fifteen minutes spent in complete silence. Then we emerge, panting from exertion in the thickest part of the forest.

There’s a clearing and in the middle stands a structure built entirely of Banyan wood. It’s old, half-rotting from age but the front is mostly intact. We found it on our first walk across the island, following the river until we found this clearing. It seems to be an abandoned military post of some sort, probably from the second World War.

The Pacific is littered with these – although this one is less than helpful, being not equipped with any sort of working radio equipment. The tower which aided this fell long ago, courtesy of some Typhoon or the next.

Jongin enters first, depositing the remaining coconuts onto the floor. We’ve divided the room into three portions – the middle being our main area, where we keep food and supplies. To the left is Jongin’s room. A wooden partition dragged down the middle, hiding his makeshift bed from view. To the right is where I sleep – a small room at the front, which may have once been the office.

At least I have a door though, and the one blanket we were able to scrounge up. Setting my backpack down on the floor, I examine our pile of goods. It’s not much, whatever I had in my backpack.

One (1) small, black backpack

One (1) metal thermos

Two (2) broken and waterlogged cell phones

One (1) paperback novel which, after a dip in the ocean is basically pulp

One (1) First Aid kit – mostly empty and obsolete, being from my hike through New Zealand

Four (4) nail files (thank you, CVS)

Two (2) wallets, full of useless money and credit cards

One (1) deodorant stick

One (1) bottle of facial mist, not useful in this humidity

Five (5) hair ties

This, along with various fruits and food from the island. The shelter already had a few utensils as well – in a desk in my room we found a knife. Something which proved invaluable these past couple of days. This, along with rope and a few tins of what looks like very questionable sardines.

Jongin turns to face me, just as thunder rumbles overhead. “Excellent,” he groans, looking up while drops begin to fall. Pouring thick and fast onto the roof above.

We’re lucky to have found this shelter. As the rain comes down, I shudder to think what it’d be like to be outside in this. “Okay,” I sigh. “I think we should search the cabin. There’s got to be matches somewhere.”

Jongin ignores me, hopping from foot to foot while brushing sand off the soles of his feet. We’ve been barefoot since our second day, discarding shoes in favor of the burning sand. It was uncomfortable at first, but today it hurts less than yesterday did.

“We need to think of a way off,” Jongin says quietly, gaze finding mine. “We can last for a while. But we need to be thinking of our way back home.”

“I know,” I nod, unable to stop my annoyance. “If you have any plans, do share. Because I’m afraid I’m fresh out of brilliant ideas.”

Jongin’s gaze narrows. “With smart remarks like those – who needs ideas?”

I bend my legs to collapse on the wooden floor. Yanking my hair from my bun until it falls around my shoulders. I peer up at him. I can’t say how much I wish I had a sports bra. Or just a change of clothing. Each morning I go down to the river to bathe. Each morning I shake myself dry the best I can before placing back on sopping wet clothes – the water doesn’t really matter, everything dries quickly in this heat.

Jongin exhales before turning away, pausing in his door. “I think fire is the best bet,” he says quietly. “If we burn a part of the island – if we send up smoke signals, we can get attention from a passing plane.”

I nod, letting my hair fall through my hands. “Yeah, fine,” I grumble. He’s right – fire probably is our best bet. “We can try again tomorrow.”

When there’s a bright bolt of lighting I flinch, shifting to face the door. I hate storms and the horrible intensity of those on the island haven’t helped at all. When I look away, I’m surprised to see Jongin standing here. He stares back at me from his partition, arms folded loosely over his chest.

“What?” I demand.

Jongin’s gaze moves to the storm around outside. “Are you scared of thunder?” he asks.

I shrug, pretending I’m not. “Not as scared as I am at the thought of being stuck on this island with you for eternity.”

Jongin laughs, the sound hollow. “God forbid,” he says, turning away to his room. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight,” I murmur, watching him disappear to darkness.

I stare at the storm for a while, watching until it’s too dark to see. Then I move into my bedroom, collapsing onto my blanket and staring up at the ceiling. Shifting for a while in my makeshift bed before I start to cry.

The next morning dawns bright and sunny. Memories of the storm forgotten as I hurry down to the stream. The river is the only fresh water source on the island, trickling from the mountain’s crater to pass our hut about a hundred feet back. I hover at the water’s edge, glancing back before determining myself to be alone. I lift my shirt, shimmying from my shorts to dunk them in the water and set them on a rock to dry.

Then I dive in, the water deep enough for swimming. I make a few lazy strokes backwards, knowing if it weren’t for my current predicament, this would be a very nice moment. I can’t enjoy it though, can’t stop thinking about how I might die here. How I might never see my family again, never see civilization.

They must know we’ve crashed by now. Someone must be out looking for us, but the Pacific Ocean is vast place. Who knows if we were even on course, when we landed in the waves. Our pilot brought us here trying to land. The airline might have lost contact well before that.  

I emerge from the river, dripping wet before pulling on my clothes. The path to the hut is slippery and I fall several time, grabbing at a nearby spider web in the process. I yelp, brushing this away – and pause. Staring at the web, almost hypnotic before gasping – I have an idea.

“Jongin!” I scramble up the hill. Running through the clearing to throw open the door.

Jongin looks up, halfway through tugging on his shirt. I blush, looking away as he covers himself. Jongin seems just as startled as I am, not saying anything as I take a step closer.

“Jongin,” I shake my head, remembering why I came. “I have an idea – come quick.” Then I disappear, heading out into the forest.

Jongin frowns but follows, grabbing my backpack and flinging this over his shoulder. “So, what’s your great idea?” he asks, catching up quickly. “Will it help us get off the island?”

I glance over, grimacing. “Unfortunately, no. It’s not brilliant,” I confess, taking the same path we took to the ocean yesterday. As we walk, I scan the woods. “But look,” I stop, pointing at a rock. “Look here.”

Jongin follows my finger with his eyes. “What, exactly am I looking for?”

“Look closer,” I insist, leaning forward and breaking off a stick with one hand.

Jongin looks closer, grimacing. “A spider web?” he asks. “Is it magic? Can it become a raft and sail?”

I huff. “No. I read about it in a book. In South Carolina, back in the early settlement days fishermen would take banana spider webs and throw them out in the ocean. It would create a natural net, which you could use to gather fish. Jongin,” I laugh, eyes wide. “Fish. No more coconuts and breadfruit.”

Jongin stares back at me. “Fuck,” he mutters, grabbing for a stick himself. “That is brilliant.”

I nod, sweeping into a grand bow. “Yes, yes – I know.”

Jongin starts to laugh, the gesture turning his face to something ethereal. “Yeah, right,” he chuckles, gathering more of the web into his arms. “Don’t get too carried away, Y/N. Got to fit your head through the doors of our small cabin.”

I grin, traipsing down the trail behind him. “Don’t thank me yet,” I warn. “Let’s just see if this works. Also,” I add, growing more and more worried. “There’s the small matter of us needing to start a fire.”

Jongin slows, looking back at me. “I wouldn’t worry,” he admits. “We’ll do it together.”

I nod back at him but remain silent, unsure why Jongin is suddenly being nice to me. I don’t have time to ask, since we’ve now arrived at the soft, white sand of the ocean.

“Alright,” Jongin sighs, staring out at the reef. “How do you want to do this?”

I hold the web up to the sun. “I figured we’d go to the reef, fasten this between the coral? You know,” I gesture. “The least sharp kind.”

Jongin looks as though he’s trying not to laugh. “Okay,” he grins, bending to set his stick against a tree. Before I can say a word, he grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts overhead. His hands slide to his jeans, tugging to reveal the top of black boxers.

“Whoa!” I exclaim, throwing up my hands to shield my eyes. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jongin is laughing “Going swimming,” he announces, grabbing his stick and heading towards the ocean. “Coming?”

I stand there for a long second, hovering with indecision. Then I close my eyes, gritting my teeth as I undo the top button of my shorts. Sliding these past my legs so that I’m in my underwear and tank before grabbing a hold of the spider web and following.

“Okay,” I grumble, coming to a stop in the water. “Is this it?”

Jongin looks over and stops, doing a double take. His gaze trails my body, ending where the water meets my belly. Skimming my thighs, which are completely exposed. Jongin swallows, forcing his gaze back to mine.

“Yeah,” he breathes, slightly unsteadily. “Here.”

I nod, refusing to look directly at him. Pretending I don’t notice the water-soaked hair, his bare chest. Instead I move forward, taking my stick to stretch out the web with one hand. I lower myself into the water, pushing with both legs until I find the right spot. I stretch the web across coral, hoping any fish which swims through the opening will be caught.

Behind me, Jongin is doing the same. I stand, watching his back flexing and shifting. Even his leg muscles are prominent, bending as he moves around the reef. I swallow. Shaking my head before wading back to shore. Jongin is beautiful, yes – but we’ve been together for three days and, aside the briefest moments of sympathy, we’ve kept mostly to ourselves.

Perhaps that’s my fault. I was so in shock that first day, I barely spoke. I can vaguely recall Jongin asking me questions while we moved about the island, but can’t quite remember my answers. I remember one-word sentences, too dizzy to fully process his attempts at conversation.

As I move, I hear him splashing in the water and whirl, confused by his waving. “Sea turtle!” Jongin yells, waving again. “Come look!”

I can’t help but laugh, as I try and to run to him. The water slows me though, and I very nearly fall in the cove.

“There!” Jongin points, as I come to a scuttling halt beside him.

“Whoa!” I gasp, so shocked I slip on a rock. Flailing wildly, before crashing sideways and knocking Jongin clear off his feet.

“Ah!” he yelps, trying and failing to keep upright.

We collapse awkwardly into the water and I land on his chest, his face mere inches from mine. My hair falls forward, his hands solid on my hips as his body presses close. Jongin stares, from where his ass lies in the sand. “I, uh,” he says, softer than I think. “Sorry.”

Then he regains control, pulling himself upwards and yanking me with. Jongin’s hand lets go quickly before turning back to face the shore.

“Right. Sorry,” I add, flushing as I follow.

Jongin peers over his shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

We’re silent on the walk back to the cabin, a more comfortable one than before. Jongin’s gaze is warm, lingering for longer on mine, as does my own. The intensity makes my blood heat, body tense. I’m too aware of him, too focused on what he and his body are doing.

When we arrive at our hut, I decide to clear my head. “I’m going to get a fire going,” I announce, stopping before I reach the door.

Jongin looks back to shrug. “Okay,” he nods. “I’ll take another sweep of the cabin.”

He disappears inside, leaving me to sag against a tree. I feel as though I’ve narrowly escaped. Or narrowly missed out – I’m not sure which. Lowering myself to the dirt, I grab two rocks. Practicing striking them over and over, until finally – I gasp. There’s a spark.

Almost at the same time, Jongin yelps inside the cabin. I jump upwards, dropping the rocks. “Jongin?” I call worriedly. “Is everything okay?”

He appears at the door, breathless while holding something above his head.

I squint. “What is it?” I ask, eyes widening the closer he gets. “Holy shit,” I breathe. “Is that –?”

Jongin nods, grinning as he reaches me. “Tinder,” he declares, proudly setting the box on the ground. “Tinder, matches and – well, rum,” he laughs, holding aloft the dusty bottle. “It must have been someone’s personal stash, hidden beneath a floorboard in my room.”

I gape, still struggling to comprehend. “Jongin,” I mutter, vision blurring. “Do you realize what this means – we can,” I choke, shaking my head. “We can make signals, we can…”

Slowly, Jongin presses the rum into my hands.

When I look back up, he’s raising both eyebrows. “Care to celebrate?”

Excitement stirs in my veins, making me shiver. “What did you have in mind?” I ask.

The sun sinks slowly below the horizon, dancing across the embers of the fire. I grin leaning back on my elbows, burrowing them into the sand. “This isn’t bad at all,” I sigh, eyelashes fluttering shut.

Jongin laughs from somewhere near the waves. “Not bad?” he calls out. “I think that you may have actually smiled, Y/N!”

I start, opening my eyes. “I smile!” I yell, a tad defensive.

Jongin wanders over, collapsing into the sand beside me. He stares at the flames of the bonfire. “Sure,” he nods, grin fading. “Not much since we’ve been stranded, though.”

“Well. Not much to smile about right now,” I say quietly, watching the flames leap higher. They jump and crackle, personified against the deepening black of night. “You remember what the crash was like.”

Jongin becomes silent beside me. “I do.”

I look sideways, meeting his gaze. “Then you understand why it’s been hard to smile.”

He looks back, his gaze dark. “I do.”

It occurs to me then that Jongin is, perhaps the only other person who would understand. Who would understand the full horror, the guilt of surviving the way we did. Of narrowly escaping, only to have others die instead. To be handed a chance – but why? Everyone else on the plane is dead but here we are, alive.

For now - but who knows for how long. We have fresh water, we have food, we have fire. It seems like we should last until you’re rescued. But what if we never are?

Seeing this uncertainty, Jongin holds out the rum. “To them,” he says quietly, not needing to clarify whom he means.

Without breaking eye contact, I lean over and accept the bottle. Taking a swig and watching him watch me. Handing it back and seeing Jongin lean his hand into the sand. He takes the rum, drinking a long sip himself. I continue to stare at him, head buzzing with drink and fire and him. He’s so close that were I so inclined, I could reach out and touch him.

Touch the perfect planes of his face, staring back at me. “I saw you in the airport, you know,” Jongin whispers, still looking.

My heart stills. “You did?” I murmur, even as Jongin moves closer.

He nods, hand sliding into my hair. Bringing my face to his, then stopping. “I thought you were beautiful,” he exhales. “I thought I had lost it, thought maybe I’d died as well, the day I saw you on the beach.”

“You poked me with your foot,” I grumble, as his lips brush mine.

Jongin’s lips curl into a smile. “I knew you were alive,” he murmurs. “I could see your chest rising and falling.”

“Yeah, well –"

Jongin kisses me. His lips are hot, pressing in a way which makes me want more. I give him it, opening my mouth to allow him access. Jongin moans as I press closer, arms wrapping around me to lower me into the sand.

His hand skims my side, sliding up my torso to tangle in my hair. I arch upwards, biting his lip and drawing it into my mouth. His kiss, the press of our bodies becomes messier. Legs entangling as he makes a half-broken noise. Lowering his head to kiss down my throat – which is when I realize what I’m doing.

My eyes open, stilling as Jongin pulls back to look at me. “Are you,” he starts. “Is this – “

I close my eyes. We’ve been drinking, we’ve been talking about the plane wreck. This kiss can’t possibly be about just me. Jongin can sense my loneliness, sense my desire – and it makes me shut him out. "I think… I’m going to go to sleep.”

Jongin stills, falling silent until I open my eyes.

“Okay.” Jongin’s gaze shutters, turning to something unreadable.

I’m already up though, already scrambling to stand. I push myself backwards, turning away from the fire, the moon and him.

“It’s alright,” Jongin calls softly, from behind me. “I’ll put out the fire.”

I nod, practically running into the forest. I wind my way back towards shelter, my headache already starting to emerge. When I reach my room I collapse, wishing fervently I had a bed. A mattress and a house and running water and a bath and a refrigerator.

A sob breaks past my lips, unable to control myself. I fall face-first onto my blanket, hiccupping gently as I cry myself to sleep.

The next morning, Jongin isn’t in the room. I exit early, glancing at his bedroom but hear nothing. Normally Jongin is a loud sleeper. He tosses, he turns – though come to think of it, I never once asked why. Maybe Jongin also has nightmares.

He’s not in his room though, so I continue to the river. Bathing quickly and in silence, trying to ignore the memory of his lips on mine. Jongin’s hands on my hips, our bodies flush together. As I close my eyes and let the water run off me in trickles, I shake my head no.

The kiss meant nothing. I need to ignore it happened and get on with my life. Focus on surviving, on getting off this damn island. I pull back on my clothes, yanking my tank top down and heading towards the ocean.

Jongin is already there. He stares blankly across the surf, hands laced casually behind his head. He doesn’t have on a shirt, and there’s strip of white tied about his head. It keeps some of his dark hair from his eyes. I come to a stop beside him, nervously glancing over.

“Hey,” I say, but he doesn’t look in my direction. “You rip your shirt or something?”

Jongin doesn’t move. “Yeah. Caught it on a reef when I went for a swim this morning. I tore the rest up.”

“Right,” I say. Though I wait, he doesn’t say more. “Do you want to see if we’ve caught any fish?”

Rather than answer, Jongin turns away. Walking towards the ocean, not speaking even as he wades in. The sea is calm, a mirror of glass broken only by the ripples we make. Bright coral stretches in every direction as we go farther. The coral used for our trap is yellow and as we close in, I make a tiny exclamation.

It worked – it actually worked. There’s several fish in our makeshift net, wriggling as they try to get free. Jongin seems surprised as well, though he bends quickly to grab an end. “Get the other?” he asks, avoiding my gaze.

I nod, not knowing what to say. We both lift, carrying the net to shore while Jongin shakes his hair free. He picks fish out one by one to toss them onto his shirt. “I’ll go to the cabin,” he mutters. “Get a fire going and try and cook these.”

Then he leaves, gathering the fish and disappearing into the trees. I stare after for a long moment, unsure of how to fix this. Jongin can’t be angry about last night. When I pulled back, he let me. He’s probably just embarrassed, I reason. Probably just regretting kissing me in the first place.

Stomach sinking, I trudge through the jungle. At the clearing I see Jongin, already building a fire circle. He places stones evenly, having already dug the pit for the middle. I come up behind him, hovering for a second. “I’ll go get firewood,” I declare, turning around.

Jongin doesn’t answer, just grunts. There’s plenty of kindling at the edge of the forest, I gather a large pile into my arms. Pausing mid-way to stare at him. Jongin’s lips are tense, brow furrowed while leaning forward. He appears concentrated as I exhale. Wishing I could make this better, but unsure how. I could tell him not to worry, tell him I have no feelings for him.

That’d be a lie, though. As I walk closer, my butterflies only intensify. Jongin might be sarcastic, he might be rough but he’s also helpful, thoughtful and observant in a way that I’m not. The first night on the island, he must have heard me crying. When I awoke the next morning, I found him sleeping against the wall outside my room.

His head was leaned against the wood, mouth wide open while snoring. I stared down at him for a long moment, too startled to scream or run. I just stood there, watching his legs balled up against his chest and wondering how long he’d sat there. How much he’d heard.

Then I slipped past, moving quietly into the dawn of the day.

When I returned, Jongin was no longer there. I didn’t say a word about it, but it never left my mind. Even now, I see him like that. Walking forward, I see the gentle soul who sat outside a stranger’s door and soothed their nightmares.

As I arrive at the circle, I drop firewood at his feet.

“Thanks,” Jongin says, grabbing for a log. He arranges them in an A formation, moving kindling in the spaces between. Jongin pulls out the tin of matches, lighting one and watching the tinder spark beneath his fingertips.

I’m staring. I realize this and turn away, dragging the shirt full of fish closer. “Will you smoke it?” I ask, curious. “That’s probably the best way for it to keep.”

Jongin looks up slowly to meet my gaze. “Oh?” he asks, raising a brow. “And do you know how to make a smokehouse?”

I flush. “No.”

“Yeah,” Jongin mutters, gaze dropping to the flames. “We can just cook it and eat as we go. Let’s focus now on how we’ll get off this island – not how to prolong it.”

My words catch and I swallow them, nodding once before turning away. “Of course,” I mutter, stomping inside.

Of course, Jongin wants to leave. Of course, he doesn’t want to be here a minute longer than he must. I’m the one who got drunk, the one who kissed him. At the same time, a voice in the back of my mind says he kissed me too. Says he kissed me back, found me beautiful.

This voice I push aside though, telling it we were just drunk. Jongin and I are in the middle of the ocean, no other people for miles and miles. Of course Jongin said that. I shake my head once more and stare down at the pile of things we’ve collected. Cell phones – useless. Novel – useless, unless we use for kindling at some point. I exhale, running my hands through my hair.

I wander further into the room. Dim lighting filters in, darker than before and I wonder if it’s going to rain. No sooner do I think this that thunder sounds in the distance. I glance outside just in time to see rain sweep down. Soaking the clearing from one end to the other, Jongin swearing profusely outside.

He darts in from the silvery sheet of rain, shaking water from his hair while shoving his headband back. Chest rising and falling with each breath, as I quickly step aside.

“Is it raining out?” I ask, watching his expression turn from annoyed to incredulous.

Jongin stares, water dripping from his hair. “Are you fucking kidding?”

The corner of my mouth lifts, almost laughing as he turns away. Jongin stalks towards his bedroom and I hear the sound of something being dumped on the ground.

“The fire is ruined,” Jongin calls over the partition. “We can try and catch more fish tomorrow,” he groans, appearing in the doorway. “For tonight though, fruit and coconut.”

I shrug, wrapping arms tighter around my waist. “That’s fine. At least it’s food.”

Jongin nods, jaw tight. “True.”

He stands there, gaze dark with words unsaid. I want to ask what, but I’m afraid it’s me. Afraid I did something wrong by kissing him, afraid he thinks he’s led me on, afraid he suspects my too-strong feelings for him.

“We should try to figure a way off here,” I murmur, looking out at the rain. “Smoke signals. We could light a bonfire on the far side of the island. Maybe a series of bonfires, spelling out S.O.S.”

Jongin doesn’t move. “I guess.”

“Fine,” I huff, shaking my head as I walk towards the door. “I don’t see you coming up with any brilliant ideas. Try and think of some, then let me know.”

“I can’t,” he snaps, even as I turn to face him.

“Also fine,” I hiss, taking a step closer. “But then stop cutting me down every time I do.”

“I’m not!” Jongin breathes deeply, pushing a hand through his still-wet hair. “I just – I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Neither do I,” I mutter, moving to walk past as his hand closes around my wrist. I look up in surprise, finding him closer than before. His gaze meets mine, earnest and open – and scared. “What are you doing?” I ask.

Jongin exhales, still not moving. His hand is warm, fingers firm as his thumb slides against my skin. “Why did you leave?” he asks, so quiet I think I’ve misheard.

“Leave – what?” I ask.

It’s not what I thought he’d ask. I thought he’d ask why we kissed in the first place. Why I was constantly staring at him, why I laughed at all his dumb jokes, why I bickered so much. Why I kissed him with such openness, such passion that it embarrasses me to think about.

Jongin’s gaze lowers to my lips. “I kissed you,” he says softly. “And you left.”

My head buzzes, though I’ve had none of yesterday’s rum. The rain is loud, nearly drowning out my thoughts as Jongin takes another step closer.

“What?” I blink up at the shape of his lips. “We were drunk, we’re out here all alone! I didn’t want you to think –  why didn’t you come after me?” I snap, changing the subject. “You moped around all morning ignoring me. Pretending you couldn’t even see me. What was that about?”

Jongin looks incredulous. “Honestly?” he gasps. “You can’t be so dense. I just asked why you stopped kissing me, and you still don’t understand!”

“Understand what?” I nearly yell, trying to be heard over the rain.

“I like you, dumbass,” Jongin growls, crushing my lips to his.

His arms close around me, pulling my body flush to his. His hands slide into my hair, tilting my face upwards. His lips open mine, utilizing none of his previous restraint. No – this kiss is raw, untamed and Jongin’s lips coax fire as they break over mine. He backs me against the wall, pulling me forward. Stopping long enough to slide his lips over my jaw.

“Is that fucking clear enough for you,” he growls, nipping skin above my collarbone. “I’ve thought you were gorgeous since the airport. Thought you were kind since you shared everything you had with me. Thought you were brilliant since you found way after way to keep us alive.”

My head spins, barely able to think around his lips, his teeth, his words. Around his hardness, grinding against my hip. His body still wet from the rain as my hands slide eagerly over him. Wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer.

“I thought you could tell,” I whimper, while his palms cup my ass. “Thought you could see I was falling for you – and I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why,” Jongin murmurs, pushing my tank top around my shoulders. Dropping gentle kisses to the curve of my neck. “Why hide it, when I was doing the same?”

“We’re alone,” I confess. “I didn’t want you to think that I wanted you because I had to. Because there was no one else.”

Jongin pauses, stopping to look at me. “Wrong,” he declares, gaze intense. “Even if there were one hundred, one thousand other girls on this island – none are you. We’re going to be rescued, we’re going to get home and when we do – I want to take you out on a date.”

“A date?” I ask, wicked grin on my face. “What would that entail?”

“Oh,” Jongin muses, thumb trailing softly from my shoulder down. Tracing the curve of my breast, the hardness of a nipple. “I can think of a few things.”

His hands slide up my top, pushing it above my head. He unbuckles my bra next, letting it drop to the floor. His gaze finds my curves, taking in the swell of my breasts and my hips. “These. Off,” Jongin says roughly, tracing the top of my shorts.

I continue to watch, even as I unbutton one button. Pushing my shorts to the ground, stepping out to reveal I’m not wearing any underwear.

“Ah, shit,” Jongin groans. He bites down on his lower lip, just looking.

I see the outline of him, hard against his jeans and grow impatient waiting. “Touch me,” I demand, sliding hands up and into my hair. “Or I touch myself. In my room, alone.”

Jongin’s gaze snaps upwards. His eyes darken, as he takes a slow step forward. “Touch yourself?” he murmurs, lips finding my neck. “I don’t think so.”

His hands slide up my torso, grazing my breasts as my knees press together. Already I’m wet, soaking and I know Jongin will find out as soon as he touches me. As soon as his hands make their way between my legs, but right now they’re in my hair. One moving down to my ass, pulling me against him.

His lips find mine, mouth opening lazily. His jeans are in the way and I fumble hurriedly with his zipper. Pushing them to his ankles, waiting until he steps free. I see him then, erect and straining against his boxers. The sight makes my pulse race, and I barely stop myself from dropping to my knees.

“Where do you want me?” I whisper, biting Jongin’s earlobe. I watch his body shiver, even as I run my hands over him. “You can have me wherever you like,” I tell him, grasping between his legs.

Jongin groans, eyelids fluttering while he pushes into me. Hardening further, as I trace over his boxers. Jongin opens both eyes. “First on your back,” he murmurs, hand hooking my knee to wrap around him. “I want to eat you out until you’re begging me to come. Then,” he grins, bending to grab the other thigh. “We’ll see.”

I can’t think of a response, because his mouth finds mine once more. His kisses are hot, needy while walking me into my makeshift room.  Jongin kneels, first one leg, then the other on my blanket. He drops me before him, staring as I slide one leg against the other. Keeping firmly shut while grinning wickedly back at him. I arch my back on the bed, raising my breasts for Jongin to moan.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, lowering himself to his elbows. “Spread yourself for me.”

I obey. Opening my legs, coaxed by the press his hands and the look in his eyes. Jongin stares brazenly at my thighs, as though wishing to devour me. His hands slide further up my legs, thumb brushing my clit before pushing a finger inside me.

I gasp, arching off the bed. “Jongin,” I moan, while he moves a slow circle .

“Mm,” Jongin murmurs, bending until all I see is dark hair. “My name, already?” he smiles, tongue flicking quickly against my sex. “How’s that?”

My fingers fist in his hair, pushing my hips upwards. I need more, want more and Jongin slowly spreads me further. His mouth moves up, lightly sucking before pulling back. Tracing over in circles, patterns until I’m panting with need, begging him for more. Then he inserts his finger again, swirling his tongue and fucking me faster. Teasing, while I grind my hips messily upwards.

Pushed suddenly over the edge, I snap. Gasping his name as my orgasm shatters through me. I exhale, breathing heavily and finally able to hear the rain once more. Jongin pushes himself onto his elbows to look up, a smug smile on his face. “You’re not done yet, are you baby?” he murmurs.

I stare back, gaze defiant. “Fuck me,” I say. “Please.” I pull him up to taste myself. His tongue slips inside, even as my hand closes around him. “Do you want me to…?” I trail off, suddenly uncertain.

Jongin shakes his head no, dropping a kiss to my shoulder. “I just want to be inside you,” he groans. Hesitant, as his gaze meets mine. “I know this is an odd moment to tell you I’m clean, but I swear. I can get you a doctor’s note as soon as we return, I –”

I capture his lips with mine. Continuing to stroke his length until his breathing is ragged. “Okay. And I’m on the shot,” I murmur. “The answer is yes.”

Jongin hovers for a second, letting my fingers guide him before pushing forward. Filling my body inch by inch, sinking into me with a slowness that leaves me breathless. Forcing me to feel every part of him, his hardness satisfying me in a way I haven’t felt in months. Jongin pauses, wrapping my thigh about his waist.

When he thrusts again, my head falls back. Chest rising as he starts to move. I raise my hips, wrapping both legs tighter as he falls forward. Thrusting slowly, smoothly with hips that take their time. Hips which explore every inch of me, in the best way possible. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on us both but I don’t mind. Arching upwards, brushing his chest as he kisses me again.

Jongin’s tongue is so thorough, so expert I can barely focus. It’s too much, too intense as I open further. Letting his hips drive me steadily towards a second orgasm. My hands seek purchase, searching and finding it in Jongin. I scratch boldly, sliding down to his ass as Jongin moves harder.

His thrusts become jarring, nearly unbearable with my sensitivity but his rhythm is too good to stop. It’s like I’m breaking apart, breaking down only to rebuild around him. His body does the same, for me. He bites at my shoulder, choking out my name as I feel his thrusts become sloppy, uneven.

“Come baby,” he begs. “I want to see your face like that again. I want to hear that noise you make, that he catch of your breath. Oh – fuck.”

I can’t help my strangled groan, the way that I shatter around him. His hips rock once more before Jongin comes as well. I feel his warmth flood my body, hips gradually slowing until he stills.

Jongin exhales, as I push hair back from his eyes. My thumbs stroke his face while raising my lips to his. I kiss him once, twice – until he falls down beside me. Jongin reaches over to grab a leaf – grinning, almost laughing as he cleans up.

I can’t help it – I start to laugh. Falling onto my back and throwing my arm over my eyes. Not moving until I feel him flop beside me, gathering me into him. Jongin softly kisses cheeks, lips, eyelids – until I open them to look at him.

“Hi,” he murmurs, smiling back at me.

“Hi,” I respond, kissing him again.

Four weeks, five days.

Today is a Sunday. Jongin has rigged a device in front of home which marks the passing days and seasons. The days are easier and easier to bear, becoming the same sort of routine. I’m slowly becoming comfortable with the idea of being here for longer – or I would, if it weren’t for how close we are.

The past week, we’ve spotted search planes. At least, that’s what we think they are – it’s hard to tell from this distance. Each day, we light the bonfires. Each day we move them to new positions. Trying to find ways to get their attention. Today we use damp leaves – it makes for a smokier fire.

Jongin dances before the flames, ignoring my laughter from behind. “Jongin!” I call out, collapsing onto the sand as I continue to laugh. “There’s no way they can see that!”

“You don’t know,” he yells, jumping from side to side. “They could have really good binoculars.”

That’s when I still, staring past him. Recognizing something on the ocean, too far off to see clearly.

“Jongin,” I breathe, scrambling upwards. “Jongin, I think –”

Jongin has stilled though, mouth slightly ajar as I come up beside him. He nods, almost reverently while his arms wrap around my waist. Pulling me closer to kiss the top of my head. “It is,” he says, voice tight.

I stare out across the waves, at the tiny black dot coming closer. Nearer and nearer, until I read the giant, block letters written on it’s side.

RESCUE.

I choke, turning to bury my head in Jongin’s shoulder. “It’s real,” I whisper, shaking my head.

He strokes my hair. “It’s real,” he repeats, awed. “Y/N – we’re finally going home.”

© kpopfanfictrash, 2018. Do not copy or repost without permission.

[ojello]

The “Incident” With Gakushu |Yandere Karma Akabane x Reader| |pt.2|

Paranoia is a sickness—a chronic ailment of a mind and soul that can no longer comprehend peace. Like any sickness paranoia also takes a toll those caring for the one afflicted.

[Rea]’s family opened their hearts and savings to anything that promised her recovery. Salvation from a red-headed phantom who endangered only her.

“Maybe getting away from everything that reminds her of that boy and ‘the incident’ will help.”

So they sent her to another school. It was a very nice one. Not too many students and close to home. But [Rea] saw Karma’s shadow in the hallways and in the corner of her classroom.

“Has she had any grief consoling since ‘the incident’? No? Maybe that’s what made her sick.”

They went to many doctors—specialists of the ailing human mind. Pills and water became a staple in her diet, but they shared only their side effects and none of their benefits.

Time passed and [Rea]’s family’s long suffering became a handkerchief soaked with too many tears to be useful.

“She’s just not getting any better. There has to be someone else who can help her. We can’t.”

So they sent [Rea] off to a facility for teens who suffer from sickness of the mind.

A large housing facility in the Japanese countryside near the mountains and far out of reach of the anxieties the city—secluded.

It even had a school attached, [Rea] would attend when visions of Karma become infrequent.

And that place became [Rea]’s home for the next year.

“The high school uniform looks good on you.” The therapist said from across the room. He open the blinds and sunlight washed over his tiny office. Sun hit the glass coffee table making the bit of dust on it specks of light rather than filth.

“You think so?” [Rea] asked. The uniform was half a size too big and [Rea] thought it wore her rather than the other way around.

The therapist nodded as he walked over to his chair. He almost tripped on the box of puppets and dolls he kept next to the window.

“Yeah makes you look confident... mature.”

[Rea] smiled she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the door.

Guess, he’s right.

“So, how’s your week been?” He asked crossing his leg with one foot over his knee in that way men do. It could just be his face but he was young for a therapist. Very thin, almost sickly so with long black hair tied in a ponytail which rested on his shoulder.

“It’s the best week I’ve had in a while. I’ve stared school again and made friends. And my family visited for the first time in over a year.”

“Must’ve been nice after not seeing them for so long.”

“It was. Mom was so happy to see how well I’m doing.

Although anything would be better than the state I was in when I got here.

“So am I. You’ve mad so much Progress in just over a year. Won’t be long until they can make weekly visits.”

[Rea]’s heart swelled she smiled and kicked her feet against the couch.

“Can’t wait for that.”

“Have you been thinking about Karma?”

[Rea]’s smile faded.

“Not as much as I used to. I’ve stopped seeing—imagining him everywhere.”

“That’s good.What about the nightmares?”

“Those haven’t let up. Something about them feels prophetic. As if he’s getting closer and he’ll be here any day now.”

“Why do you think that is?”

“Maybe it has something to do with the... the incident with Gakushu.”

It took quite a while to get [Rea] to call it that instead of “Gakushu’s murder”. Even saying it now it didn’t sound right.

“Do you feel someone needs to take a blame for that?”

[Rea] nodded.

“And I can’t place the blame on myself so I put the blame on Karma.”

“Karma’s a dangerous young boy I’ll get you that.” The therapist said.

“But we’re not here to talk about him. It’s going to take a lot more than me telling you it’s not your fault—”

“I have to come that myself.” [Rea] finished.

He looked up at the clock.

“There’s a lot to unpack there and you’ve got to get to class. Let’s continue during our evening session.”

[Rea] nodded and showed herself out, the therapist called for her she shut the door.

“You’re doing so well, have a good day.”

[Rea] smiled.

“Well, Gakushu always wanted me to do my best.”

[Rea] banished all thoughts of Karma during the day, but doing so was harder at night. During the day she could busy herself and surrounded herself with people—distractions. At night, {Rea] only had her thoughts to keep her company.

And those thoughts always had something to do with Karma.

She’d stare at the window expecting to see a pair of amber eyes staring  back at her. The windows had bars on then and her room was on the fourth floor, but fear and rationality didn’t go hand in hand.

Time passed and though [Rea]’s eye lids grew heavy her heart rate refused to slow down. She sat up and did the breathing excersies her therapist taught her.

Breath in... hold for three... breath out... hold for three.

Breath in... hold for—

[Rea]’s door creaked as it opened. She opened her eyes and turned to the door.

There he stood. Taller after a year and bigger too, more muscular. The room and hall where he stood were pitch black, but his eyes pierced through the darkness—bonfires lit in the dead if night.

There’s a fear that robs you of everything. It pins you down with invisible claws—even a shudder is impossible. And plucks at your vocal chords so every sound that leaves your mouth isn’t a scream or cry for help, but an empty hoarse whisper.

Karma walked into [Rea]’s room, tracking wet foot prints behind him. He sat the edge of the bed. The moonlight from the window illuminated his face—albeit faintly. Splatters of red stained his skin and clothes and he reeked of violence.

“Finally found you. Took longer than I wanted. But were together that’s all that matters.

“H..how.?” [Rea] wanted to say more, to scream to run away but a weak “how” was all she could muster.

“How’d I find you? Wasn’t easy. I learned you went to a mental facility, but they’re all so secretive with their information I took forever to find this one. And the security here is a lot more competent than I thought. Things got messy.”

Karma ran a hand through his hair as if he’d gone through a hard day’s work.

“I’ve missed you… so much.”

Karma reached out to touch [Rea]’s face. She pulled back.

Karma’s outstretched hand turned into a fist. His hand shook as he brought it close to his chest.

“To think... you’d go this far to get away from me... that makes me so...”

Karma dug his nails into his other hand. had he not been a nail biter he’d might have broke the skin.

“No... no. I did a lot of thinking while we were apart. And I get, I freaked you out a little. I’m sorry. And I’m gonna clean up my act from now on. I didn’t even kill that bastard with the ponytail you’ve been talking to all year.”

[Rea]’s blood ran cold.

“God knows I wanted to. Two broken kneecaps isn’t enough punishment for that bastard. He talked you everyday... listened to your problems. Only I’m allowed to do that. You belong to me.”

[Rea] tried to inch off the bed. She’d get up without him noticing and blot for the door.

And that’s what she did, but just before she reached the door, Karma grabbed her pulled her to his chest. The more [Rea] twisted and jerked the tighter Karma’s grip became.

“[Rea]. You’re sick of this place, right? Hell, I’ve been here a couple hours and I already wanna burn it to the ground.”

Karma reached into his pocket and pulled out a syringe.

“Can’t have you making noise while we try to get out of here it’ll be so much easier if you’re asleep.”

A scream welled up in the back of [Rea]s throat, but Karma covered her mouth with his before she could let it out.

The kiss was long and stole all of [Rea]’s breath. Her vision blurred from lack of oxygen by then time Karma broke the kiss.

“And in goes the needle.”

Karma made a soft hushing noise as he plunged the needle into [Rea]’s neck The corner of her vision went dark as Karma pecked her lips again.

“Let’s do more of that at home.” He said with a chuckle.