#i cant believe i had to repost this because of ONE word that went against the policy

[meduise]

my own hibari headcanons

[reposting because of adult terminology crimes, lol]

been meaning to write down my list of hcs for a while anyway, and now i have the occasion to get to it! among the others im gonna add what i decided to avoid putting under this post and give more details about what i already wrote there

content/trigger warnings: death, assassination, mental illness, eating disorders

the list will be under the cut! it excludes my strictly shippy hcs and i may update it over time

first things first. like my own blog title suggests, i hc hibari as a trans guy.  i’m trans myself, so this is arguably the hc of mine im the most attached to for personal comfort reasons LOL. it all started when i read a fic about trans hibari a few years ago and later on i got more and more fond of this transcanon, becoming 100% personal. i also hc that he doesnt feel dysphoric. as for his sexuality i hc him as gay

we know that hibari and fon are relatives. my idea is that they’re step-brothers (different mother), and long lost to that. NOW. i realize that with the assumption of fon’s age, them being siblings is unlikely, but it shouldn’t be impossible. their father could be old enough. he got married to a chinese woman who gave birth to fon, then divorced, then got married again to a japanese woman, kyouya’s mom. (i kinda based this on my irls situation, where because of the parents’ second marriage there is at least a good 20 years of gap between the oldest and youngest sibling)

the hibari family was part of the yakuza. to answer a question that was made to me: i agree that hibari “just liking fighting” isnt funny at all. i heavily believe that there’s a psychological reason to his behavior but im going to talk about this in another point below. i also think that hibari was probably the heir to the clan, but here in my head hibari is still too young for it, like 5-6 years old.

when hibari was a child his parents got killed in the hibari household. how could they get killed in their own house, didn’t they have enough protection? they did. but the guard was low considering who turned out to be their murderers were old, trusted allies. kyouya only survived because he managed to hide properly and long enough. he didnt witness the assassination but he did see his parents in a pool of blood after everything ended. before dying, his mom left a last message to him: be stronger than anyone else. because of the trauma, even in the present hibari avoids going back to that house as much as he can and especially he never reopens the door of the crime scene. hibari also still grows into a delinquent, but he dislikes the mafia world and wishes he didnt have to be involved with it

for a while, hibari is in fon’s mother’s custody. here is when he meets fon for the first time, over time they get very attached to one another, but because of the arcobaleno matters, fon goes disappearing, and hibari ends up assuming fon has died and left him behind just like this parents did. fon reappears and goes to meet hibari in occasion of the arcobaleno representative battles and of course wit trauma resurface and about 10 years of beliefs and assumptions hibari really, really struggles with this reunion, but eventually they bond again. (for this one i dont take into account the events in the anime only arcobaleno trial events, as well as the fact that we see all the arcobalenos revived at the end of the future arc)

hibari has an antisocial personality disorder (which implies he already had conduct disorders before the age of 15). it explains his violent and criminal behavior, as well as the fact that he doesn’t feel guilty for anything he does. he also suffers from ptsd and has eating disorders (i thought about the avoidant food intake, where, among the other symptoms, a person avoids to extreme levels some types of food because of characteristics such as their pattern or their color and generally lacks appetite/interest in food)

(wears my enneagram nerd hat) HIBARI IS A TYPE EIGHT. 8w7 precisely, aka the maverick. all about type eight is basically a call out to hibari lmfao but here’s the most relevant characteristics: eights are the real stand-alones of the enneagram. eights’ basic fear is to be harmed and controlled by others, and they steel up to prevent their basic fear from happening (or happening again). below the tough facade there is a vulnerability that cant be shown to anyone. their virtue is innocence, an innocence that they once and forever lost, and hibari basically lost it when his family was assassinated. eights are also associated to the deadly sin of lu st. for hibari its not necessarily the ns fw kinda lu st, rather bloodlu st. and its one big paradox because eights want to be in control of their surroundings, but being consumed by lu st means being under something/someone else’s control (and so we’re back to the basic fear). unhealthy eights are violent, despotic, reckless. all things we see in hibari. very unhealthy eights are also those who typically may develop the antisocial disorder, reason why i listed it above

since he wants to dominate his environment, hibari controls over the namimori and especially the school to feel “security”. he managed it through illegal means and pretty much lives in the school, namichuu is also one of the few places where usually he can sleep without having nightmares

yes, hibari loves sleeping but also he gets nightmares about his past more often than not

but i also love imagining hibari gradually healing and recovering from his trauma, so i do hc that in adulthood he’s mentally doing better. he can be a leader without being tyrannical. he can be strong while also acknowledging his own vulnerability. he is able to love again, too

the reason why he has a soft spot for little animals and children, like we see for ipin, is that he (unconsciously?) sees in them the innocence he himself lost. plus tiny and cute things help him cope when he is having episodes

he also treats ipin well because she is fon’s pupil. and i love to think of them as a little family

if hibari has a ring he really likes or is emotionally attached to he makes sure to never wear it on his fingers so he doesnt risk breaking it with his flames

hibari is pretty much a nerd, in his own twisted way. i mean. he’s seen reading in a bunch of official arts and we know that he’s very fond of the wonders of the world, he started up the foundation for his box researches and he knows well how illusions work - which means he studied them. since he was moved by his hatred towards mukuro, his illusion studies must have reached an unhealthy level, becoming an obsession

fon trained hibari on how to fight against illusions as well

for hibari, finding out he has mist flames too was very much of a shock, but he eventually accepts it. he only uses those flames if really needed (like the foundation entry camouflage)

i will get back to this post when i’ll have established:

why hibari picks tonfas as his weapons (i already have an idea but i havent gone into details myself enough to write about it here)

hibari’s parents and fon’s mother’s name

anything relevant that i forgot or come up with

[thcweasley]

Magical

PAIRING : Fred Weasley X Y/N

SUMMARY : After war, Fred trying to make things back to normal again

WARNINGS : none? shitty fluff

WORDS : 1.6k

A/N: i reposted this cos something went wrong lmao.

Im not sure why i really like the whole idea of Fred X Muggleborn!Reader lmao. i know its autumn in most places, but its been super duper hot here lately. Also this might not be 100% accurate of how things supposed to go, but i just got an idea after watching what not to do at the beach. so I hope you enjoy anyways.

AND THANKYOU FOR THE LOVE ON MY LAST FIC OMGGG. Yes ill upload the 2nd part soooooonn!! so don’t you worry~

“Lets go lets go!!” Fred said clapping his hands, signing you to move faster.

“yeah yeah” you mumbled.

It was a month after the war yet everything didn’t seem to falls back to normal. The fact that you almost lose Fred in the battle haunted you. Even though he was still standing in front of you now, present and healthy. Still you couldn’t seem shake off the image of him dying in front of you. At the time everyone was so sure there’s nothing they can do to wake him up.

“I didn’t know you’d be this sad to see me dying Y/N” He managed to let out a laugh.

Fred insisted you both to go to the beach today. You’ve told him once that going to the beach with your family and friends was probably you favourite memory of growing up. Before everything, before Fred, before Hogwarts, before Magic. So he thought itd be fun to relive your memory with you, no wand, no spell, no magic, just the two of you.

“are you sure you wanna do this? I thought you don’t like muggles activities” you asked him swirling around your wand in front of his face.

He grabbed your wand and put it away from you “Yes of course no magic, beach day! Now move your feet before I carry you into the car myself”

“I can’t believe you actually rent a car” you looked at him in disbelief.

“Well I want it to be perfect for you” he laughed under his breath. “Look at this” He pressed a button and suddenly the roof of the car starting to fold. “Just like magic!” He grinned, causing you to laugh.

“oh what did I do to deserve such an amazing boyfriend” you leaned on to the driving seat to give him a kiss on his cheek.

“I honestly don’t know Y/N” He moved one of his hand onto your waist “But I know how you could reward me without any magic involved” He squeeze your bum lightly.

“Focus on the road, Weasley” you rolled your eyes smiling, Slapping  his hand away as moving back to your position. His laughter filling the car

** Fred had taken you to a pretty cool beach. quite crowded too He found a spot and lay some towel so you can sit down.

You both lay down on your towel. Watching the clouds moving, enjoying each other arms. when suddenly someone dis-sand his towel right beside Fred and walk away.

You both sat up immediately, coughing.

“what the hell is that?” you said, with an annoyed tone, looking over to Fred. Wondering why he hadn’t say anything.

You saw Fred rubbing his eye. “you okay?” you raised an eyebrow. Confused

“uhh.. i think there’s sand in my eye” he said still rubbing his eye.

You grabbed his hand. Stopping him from rubbing his eye. “don’t rub it..” you said soothingly. “open your eyes”

he tried to open his eyes, failing. “what do you mean? I cant do it!”

“hey.. calm down” you giggled. You put your fingers between his eye, and open his eyes. You keep your fingers there to stop his eyes from blinking. you blow air in front of his eyes. Hopefully can remove sand from his eyes. “now blink”

he blinked a few times. And then look up at you. He realised how close your faces were. He held your cheek in his palm. Leaning in to kiss you. His lips warm and smooth pressing against yours.

You just smile against the lips, enjoying the moment. Until you heard a loud smack coming from Fred’s direction, causing you to pull away from him. A volley ball hit Freds head.

“sorry mate!” some guy shouted behind him. and running towards you both to pick up the ball.

“yeah no worries” he managed to force a laugh. You dropped your head to the side. Looking at his annoyed face.

“you okay Fred?” you asked him. resting your hand on his head.

“yep.. umm.. lets go for a walk”

**

Fred grabbed your hand, dragging you with him as he ran towards the bridge. He sat on the bridge and patted the space beside him, signalling you to sit beside him. “come on!” he smiled widely.

“Do you want ice cream?” Fred broke the silence.

“sounds great” you said as you want to get up. But he stopped you.

“wait here I’m going to guess your favourite” He scrambles to his feet and kiss your nose before walking away.

As you watched the clouds moved, you can hear the waves and some kids running around. Looking all around you, remembering the reason why you like going to the beach so much. The salty air, the sun and now you’re with the man you love the most. It couldn’t be more perfect than this.

Suddenly Fred appeared beside you. Handing you your ice cream with your favourite flavour.  “here you go ”

“awwww” you looked up at him and peck his lips. “thankyou..”

You were enjoying your ice cream when suddenly Fred groans. You looked up at him and follow his eyes direction, you saw some boys running away laughing. You looked back at him. now he’s touching his head. “dumb kids” He muttered

“Oh god!” you said in shock as soon after you pulled his hand away from his head. His hair covered with ice cream.  then suddenly bursted out laughing.

Fred groaned again “you think its funny?” he narrowed his eyes at you. Fred’s hair, he always sensitive with his hair.

“sorry..” you grinned. You reached your handbag and took your wet tissue. “I don’t know that your mouth moved on to your hair” you giggle lightly. Start wiping the ice cream off his head.

“It’s those lil git” he clenched his teeth.

You giggled lightly, its funny how frustrating this day has been for him.  “what do you want now? Go home?” you smiled at him.

“yeah..” then he instantly added “sorry” he bitted his bottom lip.

“Its okay, Let’s go home” you grabbed his hand and ran towards the car.

**

“my hair, it’s so sticky” Fred said once you got inside the car.

you smiled “its cute though, smells like ice cream.”

“it is not..” He said as he started the car

“whatever” you stuck your arms out the open window, holding it straight like the wing of a plane. But then suddenly you felt a cold flickers of water land on your face making you yelp in surprise at first and then groan loudly.

“Rain?” Fred questioned, painful annoyance in his tone.

You both turned your heads up to face the sky and suddenly the droplets are falling down faster and faster, making you flinch every time it hits you. Within ten seconds, the water is hammering down.

“why it doesn’t work!!” Fred pressed the roof button rapidly. Hoping the roof would start to close itself. “Merlin!” he ran his finger through his hair.

“Hey calm down focus on the road” You replaced his hand with yours, until finally the roof closed itself.

But then suddenly the car stopped. You could see the lights on the car also went off.

“hey, we’re in the middle of the rain why the hell would you stopped?” You laughed not knowing what was happening.

“well this really a cherry on top. What a nice day” he said, sarcastically.

“wh- what happened?”

“I don’t know. Merlin, I really wished I have my wand with me” he muttered. “wait here” he said as he got out of the car.

You took out your phone. No signal what a nice day.

You got out of the car. You saw Fred was standing in front of the car. Muttering loudly.  You shook your head, and ran towards him, hugged him from behind. “im so sorry Y/N I have no idea how muggle car works I don’t know how to fix this” He said as he turn himself around to face you. To his surprise you greeted him with a big grin on your face. “Why are you smiling?” he asks suspiciously, raising an eyebrow

You placed a hand on his cheek. “I was wondering… have you ever been kissed in the rain?”

Fred finally recognising the playfulness in your voice. His frown soon eases up into something less harsh-looking. “I haven’t actually,” he breathed

You closed the gap between you two, kissing him passionately. You feel the water soaking through your clothes as you’re pressed your lips on to his lips as the freezing water dripped down on you both. You grab onto his shirt, starting to shiver. You can’t remember the last time you’ve been happier. Because finally, after a whole month of anxiety, you can just focus on whats happening right now.

You finally separate lips, both catching on your breathes.

Fred strokes a stray raindrop off of your nose. “sorry, this is the worst date ever” he gave you a sheepish smile.

“I don’t think so” you pecked his lips smiling widely, he smiled back.

“are you being sarcastic with me?” he raised his eyebrow playfully.

You shook your head smiling. “For a magic-less day, it was quite magical” AAHAHA im sorry guys this was super cheesy. but.. should we make a part two where we give fred weasley the reward he deserves?

MY OTHER WORKS follow me / send request / talk to me! im lonely (if u send me anonymously maybe click here) my collaborative ford anglia playlist Christmas with the Weasley playlist

[thebiasrekkers]

Shadow’s Birthright | MYG

Chapter 05: Two Way Mirror

Plot: Riding in on thunder and lightning, two princes are born. But a crown cannot be shared. It can only be worn by one and one alone. The hands of man have separated the brothers, allowing one to live in wealth and comfort inside the palace while the other grows up among commoners. But Fate cannot be destroyed by the hands of man. A shared destiny reunites the brothers; one to become a king who descends into madness and the other will rise as a dragon whose journey has only just begun in order to claim a crown he does not desire to have.

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: series | historical!au | fantasy!au | angst | romance | drama | tragedy

Pairing: Min Yoongi (Lee Yoon) x Female OC (Kalina Shuri)

Warnings: Historical setting, caste system, magic/sorcery, graphic violence, disturbing graphic images, religious tones, angst, slow burn, smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 01 02 03 04

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,784

Tag List: @luxekook, @pinkpjmin, @btsaudge, @flowerwrites06, @stillcopingxx, @taevkimchi, @aroseforyoongi, @vivpurple7, @happilystrongthroughthedark, @sw33tnight, @nikkitane, @mini-coop25, @shrimpmsg,

AN: Just a reminder that this series is going to be updated slowly. Please be patient with me. I promise you that it will be worth the wait. If you would like to be added to the tag list, feel free to drop me a line!

P.S. Please bear in mind that while the historical accuracy will be mostly correct, I am setting this in a time period in Joseon history where there was no such thing as a king who had a twin brother. Obviously that’s where the fiction/creative freedom is going to come in. Everything else will be period accurate, trust and believe.

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

“You have to look beyond the mirror to see yourself.” - Kimto Oche Emmanuel

The palace was full of so much noise. Servants were running around, preparing for the banquet that would take place later that afternoon. Yoon wasn’t overly fond of all the fuss and fanfare, but he knew it was something that his parents preferred to indulge in for his sake. He would be making a long journey soon and it would be weeks before he would be able to return home. While he had no doubt that he would be able to reside in comfort at the embassy in Ming, there was the off chance that he would be homesick.

Sighing, he lowered the philosophical text he was perusing in order to give his eyes a break. The weight that sank in the far corner of his heart was knowing that he would not be able to see Kalina as he pleased. Sure, he could send word for her and the sorceress would most likely appear like he wished. But he also knew that she was not a being that would come at every beck and call. She was no pet and he was not her master.

“Cheo-ha! Minister Jang has arrived.”

Lifting his head up, Yoon sat up properly and closed the book. “Show him in.”

The doors to his chambers slid open and he watched the Minister enter. Yoon pulled himself up to a proper standing position, waiting for the minister to bow before he lowered his own head respectfully. The Minister was a fairly tall man, largely built and with a long beard that was well-groomed. Wearing his lavender and opal silk robes, Yoon was curious as to why he was in the palace without his official robes on. It went against palace etiquette and put a hamper on security. 

Simply put: it was pompous and disgraceful.

Yoon then eased himself back down on his silk cushion, a polite smile forming on his face. “Father-in-Law, what brings you to my palace so early in the day?” Yoon peered at his attire, raising his brows in question. “You aren’t wearing your official robes today. Was the Royal Advisory meeting not held this morning?”

Minister Jang stroked his beard and chuckled. “It was, Your Highness. We adjourned early in light of your banquet this afternoon.”

“I see.” Narrowing his eyes, he continued to smile. “Are you stepping out of the palace before the festivities begin?”

“Indeed. I have to retrieve a few things from my estate.” Minister Jang grinned. “Gifts for you, Your Highness.”

Yoon smirked, leaning back until his spine was straight. “What is the occasion? Surely it cannot be because of my trip to Ming?” 

“There are other things to celebrate, Your Highness.” Clearing his throat, he placed a hand on his knee. “Things such as golden opportunities.”

The Crown Prince bit back the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he placed his hand on his desk, drumming his fingers along the surface. He wouldn’t humor his father-in-law with posturing or feigned curiosities. He was sure the Minister appreciated these things as well. Subtlety was a skill Yoon excelled in, but one Minister Jang sorely lacked.

Taking the hint, the Minister continued. “There are a few merchants in Ming that will attempt to make contact with you a few days after your arrival. They have advice that Your Highness might be eager to hear.”

Yoon’s smile fell slightly. “What makes you so sure, Father-in-law?”

“Cheo-ha,” he said through his smile, “I know how intelligent you are. Even more than everyone else in the palace. You are not ignorant of the strained relations between Ming and Japan.”

Folding his arms across his chest, Yoon expelled a bit of breath from his teeth. “Is this not something that is already in discussion with the Privy Council? Why bring me into this?” 

He already did not like where this conversation was headed. Yoon was merely a Crown Prince, the heir apparent. But he was not king. Having these talks without his father present was borderline treasonous. 

Because it was these sorts of conversations that led to bloodshed within the palace walls.

“Your Highness, don’t you see that His Majesty is testing you?” Minister Jang leaned forward, bracing his hands on both knees. “This is the first step to slowly granting more power into your hands, determining if you are prepared to rule this country.” 

Yoon frowned but said nothing.

“If you do well during this trip, then His Majesty will place foreign relations with Ming entirely at your disposal!”

Suddenly, Yoon slammed his hand on his desk, causing his father-in-law to shrink back a measure. The Minister may have been his elder and also his relative through marriage, but he wouldn’t stand for this underhanded way of speaking to him. This was blatant disrespect to the crown.

However, he didn’t let his anger come unhinged. Not yet. Taking a moment to slowly inhale, he canted his head to the side as a smile returned to his face. It must have unsettled his father-in-law greatly, seeing as how he leaned back away from Yoon. 

“Forgive my rudeness, Father-in-law,” Yoon spoke slowly, his voice dropping a full octave, “but do you intend to use me to secure financial gain in Ming?”

The Minister balked. Having never heard Yoon speak to him in such a manner, his surprise was well-warranted. “S-Seja Cheo-ha!”

Drumming his fingers along the desk, he averted his gaze to peer at the bookshelf on the other side of the room. He removed all expression from his face, save for boredom. Yoon didn’t want to believe the rumors of how sickeningly devious his father-in-law was. But he now heard it straight from the horse’s mouth. 

“You married your daughter off to the Crown Prince, the future King of this country. Doing so allocated you wealth and even your position in court was elevated at the behest of the Crown Princess and out of obligation from the King.” Yoon cut his eyes back to look at the Minister. “And if that wasn’t enough, you now want me to enable you access to Ming’s trading circuit?” A slow smile spread over his lips as he narrowed his eyes. “Tell me, Father-in-law, are you not fond of your head being attached to your neck?”

Genuine fear glossed over the Minister’s eyes as he visibly shuddered. Yoon knew that this wasn’t the normal demeanor he showcased to Minister Jang. In fact, he hardly revealed this side of himself to anyone. He wore the face of a calm, kind and understanding Crown Prince. He was sincerely objective in discussions and open to all manners of opinions to help broaden and strengthen his worldview. He wasn’t the sort to resort to violence to solve problems, preferring diplomacy above all else.

But a fool the Crown Prince was not. 

Anyone who thought otherwise would be in for a world of pain.

And like nothing happened, Yoon put on a happy smile and laughed heartily. “Do not take my words so seriously, Father-in-law! You look as though you are ready to jump off the Golden Mountains as we speak.” Again, he laughed, and the Minister gave a half-hearted chuckle to accompany the pleasant sounds. Once their laughter subsided, he looked pointedly back at the older man. “Ming may be our ally now, but that could always change. It has been proven time and again throughout this nation’s history, has it not? Do not be so quick to join hands with people who have always thought of our country as beneath them.”

The Minister lowered his head. “Forgive my loose lips, Crown Prince.”

“All is well.” Yoon rose from his seat and the Minister quickly followed suit. Gesturing toward the door, he stepped out from around his desk. “I’m sure you haven’t visited the Crown Princess yet. Why don’t we go greet her together before you return to your estate to conduct your business? I’m sure she will be elated to see you.”

“O-Of course, Your Highness.”

Exiting his chambers, they walked side-by-side as the rest of the Crown Prince’s attendants followed closely behind. It truly was a beautiful day and he could only hope for the weather to be just as pleasant for the start of his journey tomorrow. But Kalina predicted that his journey would be fine, so foul weather shouldn’t have been an issue.

“Are you looking forward to the festivities today, Your Highness?”

Yoon peered at the Minister with a curious expression. “Isn’t it just like any other banquet held within the palace? I would have figured you would be bored of them by now.”

Minister Jang chuckled as he stroked his beard. “It is a chance for the people to take a break and celebrate with you.” He placed a hand behind his back. “And there are a group of performance troupes who are going to compete for a slot to perform regularly in the palace.” 

The Crown Prince lofted a brow. “Is that so?”

“Yes, Your Highness,” the Minister said while nodding, “so it will be exceptionally entertaining today.”

“Will I have a hand in this?” He hoped not.

“They will be judged on how well you like each performance, Your Highness. You needn’t do anything extra.”

Yoon smirked, folding his hands behind his back. “Good.”

Taking a deep breath, Yoongi kept his arms extended so that he could balance himself on the tightrope. The other members of the troupe seemed to be holding their breaths, anticipating what he was going to do. Clasped in one hand was a paper fan, unfurled to showcase the black calligraphy stroke for the character “Fate”. The morning sun beat down overhead and a single bead of sweat slid down the bridge of his nose, dangling from the tip and threatening to fall. 

Even though he was several feet off the ground, he could hear the whispered conversations playing out beneath him. Well, for the ones who weren’t focusing on holding their breaths anyway.

“Wow,” a voice said from below, “I can’t believe that he’s never been part of a performance troupe before.”

“He’s good at martial arts though, right? That means he’s got some acrobatic skills naturally.”

“...but how long is he going to just stand there?”

“He hasn’t moved in the last ten minutes.”

“Do you think he’s scared of heights?”

“Idiot! If he was scared, how the hell did he get up there in the first place?!”

“No one helped him?”

“Not that I know of. I think he jumped up there all on his own.”

“Honestly, I can’t hold it in anymore. I’m going to pass out if he doesn’t do something soon.”

“Ya! Min Yoongi! Are you taking us for a ride or are you going to actually do something?!”

Yoongi craned his neck so he could glare down at Seokjin jumbled amongst the troupe. Snapping the fan closed, he pointed it directly at them and everyone grew silent. “Shut your mouth, will you?” He unfurled the fan roughly again and steadied himself. “I’m trying to focus.”

“Oi! Hyung-nim!” Looking down, he saw it was Park Jimin calling up to him this time. There was a bright smile on his face as he gave him two thumbs up. “Just do whatever feels natural. Don’t worry about anything else, alright?”

Sighing, Yoongi nodded and then focused his attention back in front of him. Jimin was right. There was nothing to this. If Namjoon could do it, why couldn’t he? It didn’t matter that he’d sprained his ankle walking up the mountain. The point was that Kim Namjoon could make this tightrope obey his command.

Yoongi would be no different.

Sliding his foot along the rope, the world came to a raw tilt for only a split second. Using his back leg, he launched himself up into the air. He ignored everyone below as they all gasped at how high he sailed into the sky. Throwing his arms back, he felt the warmth of the sun’s rays on his face. Kicking his legs up, Yoongi back somersaulted twice before landing safely back on the tightrope. His entire body trembled as he attempted to stabilize himself. 

The cheers from below encouraged him to keep going. Kicking off the rope, he did a double front flip before he fell onto the rope in a crouched position. He continued to keep his arms extended, the fan perfectly held open as he wobbled back and forth on the tightrope. Rolling forward, he curled his legs under him and bounced back off the rope again, curling his body and angling it to the side until he did a perfect dismount off the rope and onto the grass. The speed of his descent was used to roll his body until he was safely brought to a halt by his right knee.

Taehyung screamed in delight as he raced over to Yoongi’s side, Hoseok and Jungkook not far behind him as they began patting his shoulders furiously in praise. He scratched at his nose, feeling a soft warmth creep around his cheeks as the rest of the troupe members all crowded around him, telling him how wonderful of a job he did.

“You’re a natural at this, Yoongi-ah,” Seokjin said as he patted his head, causing him to frown slightly, “maybe you should convince your father to let you come off the mountain and join the troupe.”

Yoongi batted his hand away as Jimin took the fan from his hand. “Quiet, you.”

“Seriously, he’s not wrong, Hyung-nim!” Taehyung was practically beaming. “You’re a natural at this!”

He didn’t know what to say in response to his words so he cleared his throat loudly instead. 

Namjoon clapped a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder, giving it a gentle shake. “You’re a lifesaver, Hyung-nim. We would’ve been in big trouble without your help.”

His brows furrowed slightly as he eyed the bandage around Namjoon’s ankle. “Are you going to be alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” said Namjoon, a grin pulling at the corner of his mouth, “keep it up and they’ll replace me with you in no time.”

Hoseok laughed loudly. “We could never replace you! You’re important!”

A sigh escaped Namjoon’s lips as he shifted his eyes toward the grass. “I feel like I let you guys down.”

Jimin placed a comforting hand on the back of Namjoon’s neck, giving it a firm shake. “Stop that, Hyung-nim. These things happen.” He lifted his gaze to peer at Yoongi who blinked back at him in mild surprise. “Yoongi Hyung-nim is here to pick up the slack just for today.” He turned to face Namjoon. “But you have to make up for it as soon as you’re all better, okay?”

Namjoon said nothing. He only gave a weak smile until Taehyung came barreling through, his arms draping over Jungkook and Yoongi’s necks. They both stumbled forward, grunting at how hard he threw his own body against theirs. “Practice is done, right?” Everyone mumbled something akin to ascent and he flashed his trademark boxy smile at them. “Then let’s hit the city and get a drink!”

Seokjin rolled his eyes as he folded his arms across his chest. “You haven’t even performed yet.”

“Aw, c’mon. Nothing wrong with a little pre-performance celebration, right?” Taehyung shook Jungkook and Yoongi's shoulders again for good measure. “It’ll loosen us up.”

Hoseok pouted. “You just want an excuse to drink. You’re hopeless.”

Managing to pry himself away from Taehyung, Yoongi was about to catch his breath until something fell on top of his head. Suddenly everyone else was obscured from view, save for the few slivers of light that managed to peek through the straw. Tilting his head, he craned his neck to see Jimin was now bent over, peering up at him from under the hat.

“What’s this?” Yoongi removed the hat off his head, taking note of the wide and angled brim. 

“It's for when we’re walking around the city streets.” Jimin smiled. “You’re worried about running into your father while in the Capital, right?”

Eyeing the hat for a moment, Yoongi replaced the item back onto his head. It was wide and dipped low, which meant that it would perfectly conceal his face. Until he could securely cover his face with the mask during the performance at the palace, this would ensure that no one could recognize him while they were meandering through the crowds. Tilting the brim back, he flashed a small grin toward Jimin who merely laughed at how embarrassed he probably appeared.

“Thanks, Jimin-ah.”

Leaving their horses to graze in the fields, they all raced toward the Crown City gates - mentally preparing themselves for what excitement lay beyond.

[1000roughdrafts]

Family Secrets : Chapter Six

Family Dont End With Blood, or Does it?

A/N: reposting cause the other one got deleted somehow :(

Summary: Lured to a house and trapped with a woman calling herself Allanah, you cry out to Dean for help, not realizing that he could hear you let alone goes on a hunt to find you. Meanwhile, Allanah forces you to watch some very painful memories.

Warnings: SPN style violence, mentions of character death from show, angst

W/C: 3.6k

Previous Chapter

"Stop calling me that! I am not your family!" 

"Oh, sweetheart," Allanah focuses her empty eyes onto yours. "I'm all you have. You haven't any family left, they're all dead." 

When you weaken your gaze, Allanah smiles, "mercilessly, I must add. Do you remember when you found out about Rufus' death? And how painstakingly brutal it was for you to hear of Bobby's?" She pauses to look at your shaking hands, "oh, and you have to remember when Jolie died, and the part you had in it?"

 With a wave of her hand, Allanah sends you back in time. Standing in the petrifying cold, you see a past version of yourself and Jolie in the near distance. You want to warn them, but when you open your mouth nothing comes out. In an attempt to run towards them, you send your torso towards the ground. You wiggle your legs in an effort to walk forward and realize you’re stuck, as if you’re cemented into the ground.

"Jolie, this is big," you hear from your past self, as tears slip down her cheek. "There are too many of them. We have to go back, to get other hunters. We need help!"

"Are you crazy?" Jolie steps closer to the past you. "They've killed too many of us. I have to do this," she looks to the ground, then at the door of the warehouse. "For my son," she says looking back up at Past you. "They could move at any moment, which means that we may never find them again. This is our only chance!" 

Past you grab's Jolie by the shoulders, "you don't get it, do you? Do you want to be another hunter killed by them? Because that's what is going to happen if we go in there without backup." 

Jolie's voice softens, a tear falls from her eyes, "as long as I take some down with me, I don't care." 

"Listen to yourself! Please! I'm begging you. We will find another way!" 

She shakes her head, "this is the only way." The metallic clink sound feels like a jab to your heart as Jolie rips out her machete and runs for the door. 

Your soul merges with your past self, trapping you in a body you hardly even recognize anymore and forces you to watch from the eyes of your former self. Replaying as a third dimensional memory rather than a moment, the body runs after Jolie just in time to see her in the tight grasp of a vampire. 

"Oh, look here. She brought desert," he snickers. 

"Let her go," you shout. 

"Or what?" he laughs, tightening the grip around Jolie's neck. 

"Just go, before it's too late for you," Jolie whimpers. The vampire lowers his head to her neck, sinking his teeth into her throat. Jolie's scream echos inside of the warehouse as her blood trickles down her body. 

You try to run towards her, but trip, falling to the ground and  screaming instead. When you look up, you're completely void of emotion and stand slowly.

“Come on, darling. I don't bite," he laughs. The group of girls behind him giggle as he takes steps towards you. "Two hunters delivered straight to our door, girls. Can you believe it?" He turns his shoulder slightly the face them, then back at you, "this has got to be the most exciting day in quite a while."

"Enjoy it, cause it's your last," you frown, falling numb from the anger as it heats your entire body.

The warehouse shakes with the laughter of the nest. "Seriously? Did you learn nothing from your friend here?"

"I don't care if I live or die anymore. I'd say that makes anyone pretty damn dangerous." Glaring in his direction, you stop fighting the anger and let it take complete control of the body. It beams out of you in a light. You feel a new sense of confidence.

Marching straight for him, you’re immune to his attempts to keep you away and wrap your hand around his neck in a tight grip.

His eyes widen as his hands fly up onto your wrist, while the others swarm to his side. With a wave of your hand, they’re blasted to the ground, dead.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry. I can't bring back your friend, but I-" he peeks at the bodies. "Oh God, I - I can do anything you want," his glossy eyes look back at yours.

"Afraid it's a little late for that." You begin squeezing his neck, softly yet fiercely, building up more strength. The more you think of Jolie, the angrier you become, thus the tighter your grip gets. With an inhuman strength, that grip becomes deadly, ripping his head from his body in a bloody explosion.

It takes you only a moment to realize the mess you’d just caused, but when you do you look down at the blood covering you and around at the nest you’d taken out single handed.

You catch your breath and run back to Jolie, falling to your knees beside her. “I’m so sorry, Jo,” you wail, dropping your head onto her bloody chest.

Against his better judgment, Dean let's Sam drive in an effort to catch some much needed rest. He'd only been out for no longer than an hour before your voice becomes too loud to push away.

Dean... I can't.. "God, Blue. I hear you!"

Sam flinches at the sudden outburst and shifts slightly in his seat, "the bar owner called, he was pretty shaken up. He said Tim came in, was acting different... 'evil'. He said he swore that, for a second, Tim's eyes went black."

"Sounds like we've got a demon on our hands," Dean rubs his eyes.

Sam nods, "and I talked to Garth, he looked into her phone records and guess who was the last to hear from her?"

"Demon boy." Sam nods again. "Is that where we're heading now?" Dean yawns.

Sam clears his throat, inspecting Dean from the corner of his eye, "yep. Uh, it should be coming up." He pulls the car behind a fence, turning the headlights off before rolling to a full stop. "But if you're not feeling up to this-"

"I'm fine," Dean pushes himself out of the seat and to the trunk.

"Seriously, Dean," Sam follows closely behind. "You're sweating. You haven't slept, or - or eaten in two days, and you - your eyes are freakin' red, dude. If it were me you'd have me handcuffed me to the steering wheel by now."

"Good thing I'm the one with the handcuffs then, huh?" Dean smirks, stuffing weapons, salt and holy water into the bag.

Sam shakes his head with a quiet scoff, looking around the neighborhood before taking a step closer to Dean, "I'm serious."

"So am I, Sam." He drops the bag and turns to face him, "I know you're only doing this 'cause you care or whatever, but the only way you're keeping me from gutting that son of a bitch is if you kill me," he yells, pointing behind him at the house. Taking a deep breath, "look man, I can't explain it. This isn't just hearing her thoughts, or-" he pauses, looking at the trees behind his brother.

"Or what?" After a length of silence, he shifts in front of Dean and repeats himself, "or what, Dean?"

Focusing back on Sam, he sighs and lowers his voice into a harsh whisper, "I know everything about her.” The muscled in his face tighten, “everything she knows about herself, anyway. She’s been through just as much as we have, I’d not more and I’ll be damned if I’m not gonna do something about it. Pain or not.”

Dean throws the bag onto his back and walks towards the house. Crouching on their way in, they spit Tim on the couch. Sam wraps an arm around his neck, the inside of his elbow just below his chin with the other hand holding a knife to his jaw. Coming from the shadows and pointing a gun, Dean grumbles, "get up."

As you come out of your past self, you feel your soul rip out of the body. You watch the image of your old self leaning on Jolie's chest getting smaller and smaller until it disappears completely and you are knelt on the floor by Allanah's feet, still crying.

She leans down to your level. "Please, I cant do this anymore," you can barely make out the words through your tears."

"That's when you realized you were more powerful than you thought, remember?" Allanah grips your arm and yanks you to your feet, "isn't that the real reason you gave up hunting? The guilt got to you, didn't it? If only you'd have known you could do that before she-"

"I could have saved her!" Your voice cracks as you yell.

"Oh, honey. You couldn't. The power only manifested in that way because of what happened," she laughs. "Now, you want to know about your parents? Your real parents or whatever." She twists her arms into her hip, "your father died practically the same way as 'papa' - on a hunt." She withholds any and all sympathy, practically singing now, "and oh, wouldn't you know. He was accompanied by Daddy Winchester himself."

Your eyes, full of wrath, dart up at Allanah, and begin to tighten with your fists. "That's right. Azazeal may have started it," Allanah holds her hand to her mouth, snickering. "But John certainly finished it." She belts out a cackle and places her finger to her temple, her thumb facing the ceiling for form a hand gun, mimicking a shot. "Boom!"

—

Dean finishes a devils trap around the chair they've strapped Tim to and throws the can of spray paint into the kitchen. He ambled to the front of the chair, crossing his arms, "where is she?"

"Who?" Tim wiggles around in the rope.

Dean leans in, "you know damn well who I'm talking about."

"You’re so cute when you’re angry,” Tim laughs.

He winds back his arm and slams his fist against Tim's cheek, forcing his head in the opposite direction. "Tell me where she is. Now!"

Tim keeps his head to the side, but slowly turns his black eyes to glare at Dean. He brings his head back around, pointing his hand back around, pointing his nose in the air. "And why would I do that?"

"Might make this a lot less painful for you." Dean feels the enmity consuming him, yours and his, but rather than pushing it away like he normally does, he accepts it. The echo of Tim's laughter infuriates him further, he winds his arm back to punch him again.

Dean? Can you hear me? Please, I can't...

Dean fumbles back, grabbing his head with both hands.

"Ol' boys not feeling so hot, huh?" Tim snickers, "that's too bad."

"Shut up," Sam cuts in, putting his hands on Dean's back to guide him to a chair. "Now, I was thinking to myself; why would a demon choose to stay topside?" He paced around the chair, "what would a demon even need with a house?"

"I like my own space," Tim licks his lips, squirming in the chair.

"I would believe that," Sam walks to the front of Tim. "I'd if weren't for a friend of ours that did some research." He pulls out his phone to reveal a picture of the demon sharing a kiss with Mrs. Mill, "what would Crowley have to say about this? You being intimate with a former captive?"

"Oh, he knows. Who do you think got me this place?" He laughs.

Sam shrugs casually, flipping through the photos to show me of Mrs. Mill tied to a chair, duck tape over her mouth.

"What have you done to her? Where is she?" He rattles the chair, "let me go!"

Sam leans down to firmly set his hands on the arm rests, "you first."

Tim groans, "I was paid off by Crowley to lure you three to town, get you together."

Dean clumps over, holding a hand to his head. "Why?"

"I don't know." Tim tilts his head, "I'm just a grunt, I do what I'm told."

~

"You had a sister too, you know," Allanah turns her back to you and tilts her head to the side. "But, well, when the Winchester's did what they do best, they used her as a getaway."

Allanah giggles just slightly, rotated around and adds, "her and your mother, actually. Your poor sister was bleeding from her center, trying to hold her spilling guts in one hand," Allanah mocks the action with a fake pout, "and a rigged in the other. Your mother, oh Ellen, she just couldn't bare to leave Jo's side as I hear it, bless her heart." She places her palms to her cheeks and purses her lips before beginning to leisurely pace, "and they both died in that explosion."

Tears almost too hot to touch stroll down your cheeks. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Of course I know what I'm talking about," she scoffs, reaching up to grab your cheeks and impartially wipe away the tears. "I created you, after all. I know everything there is to know about you and everyone around you."

She stands herself up straight and continues on with a softer tone, "now, when you add all of this tragedy together, what's your common denominator?" She pauses, "that's right. The Winchester's. Their selfishness has caused the death of everyone who's ever loved you and some you never got the chance to love in return. And I don't know about you, but that sounds pretty personal to me."

Allanah leans slightly on brush the sweat soaked strand of hair from your face. "Let us destroy them forever they-" Allanah mumbles the ending of her sentence as the sound of an engine rumbles outside, "ah, just in time." She leans into you, her breath heating your cheek. "Remember what they've done to you, to your family, Y/N. Do you really want to be another victim to their charades? Do you want to die at the hands of the Winchester's vain attempts to 'save the world'?"

Dean gasps as the two slam their way through the door, catching themselves with a few steps.

"The decision is yours, baby," she smiles wryly, pointing a finger to herself, "do you want to be powerful? Have it all?" She shoves a finger in their direction without breaking eye contact from you, "or be a pawn in their game, only to end up dead at the hands of whatever plot they scheme up?" Smirking, she snaps her fingers and disappears from the room.

You narrow your eyes at Dean, advancing towards him with your dagger in hand. "Whatever she's said to you, don't listen to it," he persuaded with his palms facing you.

"I called out for you!" you scream, keeping a fist around the dagger but bringing it to your side.

"Why do you think I'm here, Blue? I heard you."

You laugh to yourself. The silver lining of these events is a rebirth. "My name is Y/N."

Dean keeps his hands in the air and takes a few steps closer, "Y/N, okay, great. Let's go."

"Is it true?" you cry out.

Dean cramps his face, "is what true?"

"My family. Every single one of them, down to my birth parents... dead, because of you or your jerk of a father. The Winchester name is a curse that I refuse to be associated with."

"Sam, what is she talking about?"

"You're the one that can read her mind, you tell me."

You draw the knife up to your palm, tapping it lightly against your fingers as you count, "I'm talking about Bobby and Rufus. My mother, Ellen and the sister I never got to meet."

"Hold on. Jo is your sister?" Dean frowns as his hands and eyes drop to face the floor.

"Was my sister. Before you used her as bait for your own sick agendas!"

"No, no, Bl- Y/N, it - it wasn't like that," Sam stutters, taking a single step towards you. "She - she sacrificed herself."

"Sacrificed? Do you hear yourself?" you scoff and bounce your head against the back of your neck, looking at the ceiling while your arms fall limp at your sides.

"I know how it sounds, believe me, but it's true," he adds with a near brutal tone. "We were up against the devil himself. A lot was at stake."

"So you mean to tell me that he's gone, then right? The devil?"

"Yes," Sam smiles. "We got him. As far as we know, he's in the cage - in hell."

"You for a lot of nerve coming at us like we didn't lose people important to us, too," Dean shouts waving his knife at you.

"People that you got to spend your life around! People that knew you for who you were and loved you for who you were. I will always be a monster because of where I came from, that won't change and you said it yourself."

"Y/N, we never knew our mother either."

"Sam," Dean interjects, void of any hope. "Don't start. She doesn't care."

"You're right. I don't. The way I see it you guys have it and had it. So you didn't know your mother, but you have each other. I could have grown up hunting with a sister," you take into account what your purpose is now, and readjust yourself. "Still, it doesn't change a thing. Dean, you hated me from the start. You hardly gave me a chance to speak, at least not without severe judgment." You take a step forward, "your problem was decided guilty until proven innocent when I was innocent to begin with. And you, Sam, I'm just disposable to you. Someone you can play nice to and pretend you care about me only to be used as bait in your next big trial. I'm not falling for that.

"No, that's-"

"Don't bring him into this," Dean flicks his blade at you with a shift in his eyebrows. "He's the one they wanted to help you in the first place. If it weren't for Sam, you'd be dead already. So you want a fight? Well, bring it on, bitch," he says, rolling up his sleeves and cracking his neck.

"Oh, Dean. You don't kiss your mom with that mouth do you?" You smile and lunge are him with your blade. He barely makes it out of the way while going after you with his own and an extended arm that you effortless grab onto and use to slam into a wall, knocking all of it's oddities on top of him.

He jerks back action with a thrust of the knife while Sam attempts to leap in to help. With only a palm facing him, and your eyes still on Dean, you exert all of your anger into a small ball of light and directing it at Sam, halting him to a stop. Unable to intervene, he grunts and tries to call out for Dean, who is now the subject of your suspension. You turn your head and look at Sam through peripheral.

"Grumpy's right, Sammy. This isn't about you. Not entirely," you focus back on Dean, releasing your mental grip on him. "You wanted a monster and now you've got one. One they you have no business messing with and I swear it on your grave I'll make you eat those words."

"I'd rather have some pie, but thanks for the offer." He drops his shoulder and shakes out the tension in his arm before trying to attack you with his blade again. As he gets closer he can hear you chanting something too choppy to make out any words.

Sam is the first to fall, and Dean, still battling the sudden onset of exhaustion, drops slowly to his knees. You gracefully drop to your own right in front of him to caress his face with your palm, "good night sugar. See you never," you sing before drawing back your hand to gently push him to the floor. Stepping over Sam, you hum a long forgotten tune as you make your way through the door and off the property entirely.

"I see you've chosen wisely," Allanah says with a smile wide enough to show her perfectly straight teeth as you stroll to her side. The two of you stand in front of a double wide copper door. "They're not to bother us again, and I assure that if they do-"

"I took care of it," you say with vengeance in your eyes and a light curl of the corner of your mouth.

"Wonderful!" Allanah gleams, guiding you through a ballroom where the family has been paired off into twos across the marble flooring. Over in the corner and dancing your way is a tall woman with dark brown hair that curls just below the stone necklace wrapped around her neck. She approaches you with an extended palm and a beaming smile.

"This is Edra," Allanah states with a hand resting on Edras nos crossed arms. "She still be mentoring you for the next few weeks."

She doesn't take her eyes off of you ask she speaks, and maintaining a warm smile says, "as my right hand she is among the most powerful and will be treated as such or you will regret it, understand?"

You take in a long, silent breath through your nose and only give a single nod.

"Good! I'll leave you to it then," she says with a forced smile and carefree shrug before skipping over to another pair of witches.

What have I gotten myself into?

Next Chapter

[rorynne]

Call me, Beep me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Reader

Summary: Bucky is away on a two week long mission and you cant sleep.

Warnings: Fluffy, anxiety mentions. Anxiety attack if you squint.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Requested by anon with the prompts 1 “You can call me whenever you want… Even if you don’t have a reason to.” and 41  “Sorry for calling so late - I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Reposting this now that ive figured out why it wasnt appearing in tags.

Masterlist

Rain pattered on your apartment window as the tea in your cup warmed your hands. Sleep was evading you, and on your second pot of chamomile , you were starting to wonder if it would ever come. You glanced at the phone sitting next to the tea pot on the table in front of you. You’ve been fighting a silent battle with the damn thing all night.

Your brain tugged you back to the same subject that’s been filling your thoughts for the past few weeks, a certain metal armed super soldier. Was he sleeping as poorly as you? Was he sleeping right now? Was it even night where he was? Probably not, he was halfway around the world in Russia right now. Time Zones were such a headache. It was where he had been for a week and a half now, and you were worried sick.

You were also lonely, painfully so. Through the two years you’ve been working together, Bucky had somehow made himself your best friend. As well as managed to make you fall head over heels in love with him. Not that he knew that, by the time you worked up the nerve to tell him he was on the quinjet getting ready to take off to Moscow. He had promised to talk to you as soon as he got back two weeks later.

Two weeks was a long time to go without hearing from someone you love.especially when that someone is on a dangerous mission in the middle of Russia. You cursed the no contact rule as your hand hovered over the phone. Deep down you knew it made sense, the fewer distractions the easier everything goes. It was logical. It made sense. But damn, if you didn’t hate it with every fiber of your being at this exact moment.

You pushed yourself off the couch with a huff. The wait was driving you nuts. You had no idea what he was doing, what level of danger he was in, what state he would even be in when he got back. If he got back.

You shook that horrific thought from your head as you walked to the window. Rain usually made you feel so calm, but tonight each drop against your window felt like a microscopic creep towards the edge of your sanity. He was going to be fine! He’s done this countless times before, why was this upsetting you now?

It was because of things gone unsaid, you had realized. The very idea of him dying before you could tell him how you felt made your chest tight. You closed your eyes, and forced yourself to take deep steady breaths. It’s okay. Everything would be fine. He’d be back in a few more days if everything went according to plan.

Which it usually didn’t.

His number was dialed with the phone to your ear before you could even think to stop yourself. Tears pricked in your eyes as it rang. Once. twice. Three times. Finally, as you began to lose hope, the ringing stopped.

“Doll?” The familiar voice on the other side asked.

You took a shaky breath of relief on hearing him. “Bucky?” Your voiced cracked as you said his name, making you silently curse at yourself.

“Hey,” His voice was coated in concern. “Hey, yeah, it’s me. Why? What’s wrong? It must be late as hell over there.”

Just hearing his voice sent waves of relief down your spine. “I, I couldn’t sleep.” You said, trying your hardest to steady your voice.“Sorry for calling so late - I, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. And I know that the rules-”

“Fuck the rules,” he said gruffly, “And don’t worry about the time. It’s morning right now. Actually, you can call me whenever you want doll. Even if you don’t have a reason to.” His reassurance made your heart swell almost painfully.

You leaned against the wall, sliding down it until you sat on the floor. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay, I was worried.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. We both are. We’re grabbing breakfast right no- Shut the fuck up Sam.” You giggled at his sudden outburst. You could only imagine what Sam was saying. “If today goes right then we might be able to come home tomorrow. But that depends on bird brain over here.”

“What the hell did you just say?” Sam said in the background, muffled by distance.

“You heard me.” Bucky shot back before sounds that you could only guess were the two of them fighting for Bucky’s phone erupted from the speaker. You smiled, all previous anxiety washed away by their bickering.

“Hey Y/N,” Sam said, now crystal clear, “What ever Frosty tells you about me, don’t believe him I-” He grunted in pain as you heard more fumbling over the phone.

“Sorry doll, this punk is trying to stop me from telling you how badly he fucked trying to seduce one of the targets.” You could hear Sam shout in protest in the background.

Your cheeks were starting to ache from how widely you were smiling. “I love you.” You hadn’t meant to say it. You hadn’t even thought of saying it. It was not a conversation you wanted to have over the phone. But the words fall from your mouth so naturally, with such ease, that you couldn’t stop yourself.

The other side of the call went silent as you mentally swore at yourself. Seconded passed like hours as you waited for a response. As soon as you opened your mouth to try to take it all back, he spoke, “I love you too.”

The words washed over you like ice water, shocking you to your very core. Your mind raced for words as you sat there speechless. He loved you too. The one thing you had wanted for months was actually true. Your joy bubbled over into tears rolling down your cheeks. He was safe, and alive, and he loved you.

“Doll?” His voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “You still there?”

You swallowed, “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here, sorry.”

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” He said before clearing his throat. “You know, there’s this diner, that Steve and I used to go to back in the day on Washington Avenue. Has the best milkshakes. I was surprised to see it still open the other day. Wanna go check it out when I get back?”

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I’d like that.”

“Great! It’s a date.” Your stomach flipped at the word ‘date’. “Oh, hey, I need to let you go. Our food just arrived.” There was a brief pause before he added, “Try to get some sleep, okay doll?”

“I will, promise.” Anxiety gone, you already felt much more tired.

“And doll?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words felt like ambrosia on your tongue.

“G’night doll.”

“Night Buck.” you answered before the line went dead. You sighed, pulling your phone from your ear and looking at it. It wasn’t how you imagined confessing to him, but you couldn’t have hoped for a better result. With a large yawn, you stood up exhausted from a night of worry and anxiety, and shuffled to your bed. How it happened wasn’t ideal, but at this point, you weren’t sure if you would have it any other way.

[jamesholden]

a secret chord

after some extensive editing, here is a REPOSTED and SPOILER FREE version of the original fic. 

this little monstrosity was inspired by an image I got in my head and passed to @whenimaunicorn . as usual, it got away from me. title comes from “Hallelujah” which Jim sings because it’s been stuck in my head and I’d like to hear a certain someone sing it one day.

Hope y’all enjoy! please maybe think about leaving a review here on AO3!

Naomi hums as she wanders, drifting through the Roci looking for her daughter and her daughter’s father. With four crew members clamoring to spend time with little Sam, it’s not unusual to lose her somewhere. Amos had been the only one to see Jim take her. He’d asked him to let him have a head start before telling anyone. Naomi understands.

Jim rarely has time alone with Sam. It’s hard when you’re one of the most sought after men in the system. He gets called away and spends hours watching feeds and listening to and sending off transmissions and sleeping deep into the crew’s usual wake cycle. So she gets passed around between Alex and Amos and Naomi more often than not. Sometimes after her morning routine, Naomi meanders through the halls and putters in the galley just so he can bond with their daughter alone for a few minutes longer. She’s seen his quick-hidden pain when she’d reach for one of the other crew members when handed to him, or starts crying soon after he takes her. She feels a tightness in her own chest that likely rivals one in his. Father and daughter need to get to know each other better, quick. She’s fortunate enough that Amos and Sam get along so well, or it would really be a disaster.

She hears him before she finds them.

Jim has a lovely singing voice. It’s not something the rest of the crew hears often. He’s shy about it, keeps it close to his chest. No matter how hard she fights him to join her at karaoke, he always refuses with a smile. Yet when they’re alone—when he’s running his fingers through her hair as she dozes on his chest, or when he’s mindlessly working on something in their cabin—he’ll sing to her and to himself. It’s like a secret gift just for her. The distinctive baritone never fails to soothe her, just like the warmth of his speaking voice. It filters down the hall, increasing in volume as she approaches their cabin. Naomi strains to hear just what he’s singing, what he could be exposing their child to.

“The wheels on the bus go ‘round and ‘round, ‘round and ‘round, ‘round and—”

The singing stops as she approaches the door.

“Oh… you don’t like that one?”

Naomi smiles, pictures Sam staring up at Jim, eyes wide and fixed on his eager face.

“No, of course you don’t. Too smart for that one. You take after your mom that way.”

The pride dripping from every word loosens the knot in her chest. Jim adored Sam from the moment Naomi told him she was pregnant, that the in vitro had been successful. The affection in his eyes when he held her for the first time had almost brought her to tears again. The idea of having a child at all seemed too distant, and sometimes too hard for him to talk about once the conversation became less hypothetical. He’d hoped to have children the old fashioned way. Even if he knew the possibility existed that he may have to rely on science, he wanted the passion. The love. Reality had hurt him. But holding and seeing Sam had healed the wound.

Until she began to show signs that she didn’t like him as much as the rest of the Roci crew.

“Let’s see… what would the very smart daughter of the smartest person in the system like to listen to, hm?”

Naomi holds on to the handhold just outside their cabin, drinks in the calm silence that meets Jim’s question. Every part of her wants to lean around into the doorway, to watch her partner hold their daughter and smile at her with all the love he has. To watch two of the most important people in her life just be together. Jim makes an ‘aha!’ sound, and clears his throat before singing to Sam again. Naomi’s heard the song before. A melancholy tune with some sort of religious overtone. An old Earther song. She gives in, leans around the doorway just enough to peek at them.

Jim is curled in on himself, almost in a fetal position, with Sam seated in the curve of his lap and stomach. His hands hold onto her tiny waist. Her hands rest on both sides of his face, slapping his stubbled jaw with glee. It doesn’t bother Jim. A smile lights his face that nothing could wipe away. He waits for a pause before carrying on with the song, going on about chairs and haircuts. Naomi spins back out to lean against the bulkhead. Her chest is warm and her eyes itching.

They’ve been through so much—she, Jim, the rest of their little family. There had been so many moments when she had thought this kind of future would be impossible for them. She and Jim had almost lost each other countless times. It had been hard for them to believe that things had settled down enough to discuss expanding their family. Months went by with little to the normal amount of conflict, and they could see it. They talked it over with each other, pitched it to Amos, asked Alex what he thought.

And now, years and years after the destruction of the Cant, years after she had just about given up on any future with Jim, years after he accepted her invitation to bed, years after he saw the rift between them and closed it, years after he told her he liked her and she told him she loved him, years after she finally opened up to him and years after he accepted her past with an open heart, years after he’d joked he could marry them but he didn’t see the point and promised he’d always love her...

Here he is, hovering in their cabin singing to their daughter. Their daughter actually listening to him and playing with him. If Naomi hadn’t already seen so many miracles… she’d consider this a big one.

Soon, Jim’s voice softens as Sam’s cooing dies down. He still sings of flags and arches, of lords and hallelujahs. But Sam babbles at him less. Naomi closes her eyes and tips her head back against the bulkhead. She takes a deep breath, lets Jim’s voice soothe her as well. She shoves the fear and anxiety of their past back into the box she keeps all of her past in. The present, what’s going on in the room behind her now, is all that matters. She has Sam. She has Jim. Hallelujah indeed.

When Jim’s song dissolves into gentle humming, Naomi turns to enter the cabin. The breath is sucked from her lungs.

Sam is laying on Jim’s chest, jumpsuit balled in her tiny fists as she sleeps with her head just below his chin. Jim’s eyes are closed as he hums, thumb brushing over her back in a slow, soothing pattern. Naomi presses a hand to her lips. She could count on both hands how many times Sam had fallen asleep with Jim like this since they first brought her onto the Roci, without Naomi around to soothe her. To see it now, the two of them by themselves, is just—

“About time you joined us.”

Naomi’s gaze shifts to Jim at his whisper. He watches her with one eye and a small grin. Giving him a grin of her own, Naomi pushes off the door way just enough to get her to where he is. Jim catches her with his free arm. She kicks on her mag boots and leans in to press a kiss to his brow.

“How did you know I was there?”

“I saw you peek in,” he mutters, glancing back at their sleeping baby. “You’re not very sneaky, honey.”

Naomi brushes her fingers through his hair. “Must not have been trying hard enough.”

“I was singing,” he notes with a thoughtful nod. “Always hard for you to resist.”

“Sure, Jim.” It’s true. But Naomi isn’t about to inflate that ego.

Jim starts to shift, and Naomi helps him straighten so he can heel his own mag boots on. Sam manages to sleep through all their movements. Certainly her father’s daughter. Naomi lifts her arms, starts to reach for Sam, like she has hundreds of times. She catches herself. There’s no need to take her. She’s sleeping, comfortable, happy. In the arms of her father. Why take her? Her heart clenches in guilt, but Jim doesn’t seem to notice. He’s so engrossed in watching Sam, eyes bright with wonder, pride, joy. So she shifts. Naomi wraps her arms around him instead.

“So,” he starts, tone unsure and eyes still downcast. “Were you worried about us?”

The uncertainty that Naomi had become so used to when it came to Jim talking about Sam was back in his voice. She’d had no intention of shaking his barely-there confidence. She rests her forehead against the side of his head.

“Only a little. I was just curious what you two might get up to.”

“Oh, absolute chaos, obviously.” The teasing tone she’s used to is a welcome relief. “Our next move was a hostile takeover of the galley. Barricade ourselves in and declare it for the Nagata-Holdens.”

Naomi smiles. “I’d be allowed in, right? I mean… I am the Nagata of Nagata-Holden.”

Jim snorts, turns in her arms to put Sam between them. “I’d never exclude you. Amos, maybe. Unless he promises to fix the coffee machine while he’s in there. You? Never.”

“Good. I think.” Naomi’s gaze shifts back down to their daughter, sandwiched between them. She lifts a hand to cover Jim’s on Sam’s back. “Jim… You know you’re doing a great job at this, don’t you?”

He hums. Naomi isn’t sure if it’s thoughtful or dismissive. “It’s hard to tell when she doesn’t seem to like me as much as all of you.”

“You’re busy. You get less time with her than we do.” Jim’s brow furrows, showing his dissatisfaction with her answer. Naomi reaches out to tip his chin up, to force him to meet her eyes. “Hey. You try. You know that you don’t get enough time with her and you know that she isn’t as fond of you and you try to be a good dad anyway. You try to spend as much of your free time with her and you try to play with her. Because you care. That matters, and it will mean everything to her that you put so much effort into it.” She slides her hand back to twine in his hair and pulls his head in to press their foreheads together. “It already means everything to me that you care so damn much. You are a good father, sa sa?”

She doesn’t have to say why. She doesn’t have to explain anything to him. He knows. Even if Jim doesn’t believe her, he knows where it comes from. He knows she means it. His wide eyes and parted lips evolve into a loving gaze and a warm smile.

“Well… I’m not quite sure what to say to that.”

“There’s a shock.”

Jim rolls his eyes and tips his chin out to catch her lips with his. Naomi hums into the kiss, presses closer to him. But then Sam makes a disgruntled sound and the two of them snap apart. Jim shushes her, rubs her little back and kisses her soft hair. Naomi soaks it in and lets it loosen the knot in her chest all the way. Any leftover anxiety she may have had about starting a family with Jim is long gone. There would be no repeats. Jim’s doing everything she’s ever wanted him to do. He peeks at her over Sam’s head, shoots her a tiny grin.

“Thank you,” he mouths, turning his attention back to their daughter.

He has nothing to thank her for. In fact, he’s only proven that she should be showing more gratitude. But Jim Holden would never accept that from Naomi Nagata. So she just nods, blows him one last kiss before making her way back onto the crew deck. She should find more work to do. Just for a bit longer.

Father and daughter will do just fine on their own.

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,448

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​, @hobipluto​

Chapter 40: Let Go

”No, but I accept your blame. Really, it’s time to say goodbye.”

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Two weeks had passed since his encounter with Kihyun. Yoongi never would have guessed that seeing Kihyun under those circumstances would rattle him to the core. He’d been uneasy ever since, wondering when he would next run into the man; wondering if he would be better prepared for whatever words would come tumbling from his mouth next.

There was no lingering attachment there. At least not from Yoongi. That part of his life he’d put far behind him. He’d let it go when he traveled to the States and met Eden for the first time. He was able to see someone come from nothing, yet determined to make something of herself. She wasn’t the sort of person who accepted handouts and she always returned a favor – not wanting to place herself in the debt of others.

For the first time in a while, Yoongi thought of his family; the family he’d left behind in Hwaseong. His father, ironically, was the former police chief in the area. His mother ran her business from home, making calendars for people from the photos she’d taken. Yoongi adopted a love of photography thanks to her, but there were few moments when he ventured out with his camera. He just hadn’t had the time for it like he had when he was still a school kid.

Until now.

The shutter clicked wildly as he roamed around one of the parks in Gangnam. Spring was upon them. The blossoms from the cherry trees fluttered in waves on the ground and through the skies. The soft breeze tickled the hairs around his ears, reminding him that he probably needed to get a haircut soon. His legs carried him through the park, memories flooding his mind as he took nature shots and pictures of unsuspecting pedestrians.

There was a time when he would come to the park, usually late at night, with Eden. She hadn’t minded since there were nights when they both worked late. He frowned, recalling the memory of her laughing as she sprayed him with the bottle of water she had in her hand. His hair was drenched and water dripped from his eyelashes and chin, allowing her to get about a five-foot head start before giving chase.

She always let him catch her.

Yoongi sighed, shaking his head to chase the memory away. Stop, he chastised himself, you need to stop. She’s not here and she won’t be.

An image of Jungkook smiling widely as he embraced her replaced the vision in his mind. He paused in his steps, his hands cradling his camera lowering slowly. They finally fell to his sides and the weight of the camera tugged at the strap around his neck. A heaviness filled his chest until it finally collapsed into the pit of his stomach. Yoongi knew he had no right to feel anything at the sight of them together, whether in real life or in his own mind. The reality was still the same. He’d fucked up and his younger brother was doing the one thing he never had the courage to.

He was honest with the woman he loved.

Yoongi scoffed, reaching up to scratch at the side of his nose. A sardonic smile passed over his features as he admitted to himself that he had, in fact, loved that stubborn woman. That he was still in love with her. But he knew he’d blown it and there was no turning back the clock, no matter how much he might have wanted to. The situation was plain and clear as the daylight breaking through the canopy of trees over his head.

It was over. All he had to do was admit it to himself. Truly admit it.

Taking a few steps, he broke through a row of trees and deviated from the path. In the center of the park was a large rock near a man-made creek. The sunlight was always the best here, shining down without prejudice on whoever wished to seek out its light. His feet shuffled through the grass as he ducked under a low hanging branch, using his hand to shield his eyes from the mid-morning light that threatened to blind him.

Just as he was mentally cursing himself for not remembering to bring his sunglasses, he stopped and stared. For a moment, he thought he was seeing things and began to roughly rub his eyes with his fists. Blinking the prism-like spots from his vision, he looked again and saw that he hadn’t, in fact, been imagining things.

There, on the rock, laid Eden – sprawled out like a tiger who’d just finished devouring a kill that was hunted and sleeping off the heavy meal. Her olive skin glowed in the sunlight and he was surprised to see that she was willingly allowing the sun to touch her flesh. He remembered her saying how she hated the sun because it often baked her to a darker shade of brown than she liked, making her look Middle Eastern at times. Not that she had anything against them, but people were always getting her ethnic background wrong and it annoyed her.

Her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, signifying that she was, in fact, asleep. Deep asleep, in fact. The gentle babbling from the creek and twittering of birds served as the perfect ambiance to rest and relax. There was a book opened face down on her stomach and her fingers splayed over the spine, holding it in place. But with each breath she took, it slowly slipped further and further from her hand. At the angle she was lying, the moment it left her fingers it would fall into the creek.

As if predicting the future, Yoongi watched the book begin its descent and he rushed forward, snatching up the book before it could meet its watery end. His heart hammered heavily against his ribs as he sighed, standing to his full height before closing the book. Eden mumbled something incoherent before rolling over on the smooth rock to readjust herself to a more comfortable position.

Yoongi was almost flabbergasted by this. He couldn’t remember a time when she’d allowed herself to be this vulnerable. Unless she believed she was safe, she would always jolt awake to the most innocent of sounds – a knife at the ready in her hand.

His brows furrowed while canting his head to the side. Is that it? Yoongi reached out with one hand, his fingers just barely touching her cheek. Do you feel safe here?

She groaned sleepily, causing him to flinch involuntarily. He yanked his hand back, as though he was being struck by a snake. Seconds later, Eden’s phone went off and she immediately sat up – patting her pockets for the item to get it to shut up. Yoongi stood rooted in his spot, unable to flee the scene. He continued to stare at her even as she groggily fisted her eyes to rid them of the sleepy haze sitting on the backs of her eyelids. Eden smacked her lips and then began looking around, her eyes falling on Yoongi.

As she looked at him, Yoongi didn’t move; he didn’t even breathe. Eden seemed to gather up her surroundings and the sleepiness in her gaze was quickly replaced with realization. Her eyes widened as her lips parted, prepared to scream at him. Without thinking, he reached out and covered her mouth with his hand, silencing whatever verbal onslaught she had prepared for him.

“Look, before you say anything, this is completely a coincidence,” he explained rapidly, feeling her huffing over his fingers, “so don’t get crazy, okay?”

Slowly, he removed his hand and held his arms up in surrender. She narrowed her eyes at him, the irritation evident. But she didn’t say anything. Yoongi wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or upset by her lack of clapbacks at that moment.

“Why are you sleeping here?”

“It’s a nice day out and I felt like taking a nap,” she said while standing from the rock, snatching the book from Yoongi’s hand. He’d almost forgotten he’d had it. “Sleeping on the rooftop gets too hot and I burn that way.”

“Yeah, I know…”

For a moment, no other words were shared between them. Even though Yoongi had so much he wanted to say, he couldn’t formulate the words the way he would have liked. Everything he tried to start with sounded like an excuse and all the other options made him sound like an idiot. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Yoongi sighed as he roughly rubbed the back of his head.

“Eden,” he began, his heart rate escalating a measure, “I just…” Eden’s gaze practically bore into his forehead and Yoongi considered averting his gaze. However, he thought better of it and, instead, cleared his throat loudly. “…I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she asked quickly, catching him off guard. Licking his lips, he just looked at her as she folded her arms across her chest. “What are you sorry for, Yoongi-ah? Hm? That you got caught or that I’m with Jungkook now?”

There it was. The dig he was waiting for. He’d prepared himself for it, but he didn’t expect hearing her say it out loud to hurt so much. It was like he’d been hit in the gut with a cannon ball, the proverbial wind knocked straight from his lungs.

It was quickly replaced with anger.

“Goddammit, woman,” he snarled, taking a step forward to close what little distance there was between them, “you are fucking impossible, you know that?”

She sniffed, smirking. “I do, actually.”

Eden moved to pass him, but he quickly grabbed her by her upper arm, yanking her back so that she was flush against his chest. A gasp spilled from her, causing her book to fall against the grass as it slipped from her fingers. She tried to jerk free from him, but he squeezed tighter. He saw her brow twitch, probably from how hard he was holding her, but Yoongi couldn’t stop.

His body moved faster than his brain could process, unable to prevent him from doing what he was getting ready to do. Still in his grasp, Yoongi pushed Eden until her back hit the trunk of a tree. The leaves shuddered with the sudden force placed on its surface and she let out a soft cry. Glaring up at him, he matched her gaze as he looked into her eyes – his reflection cast back at him from her dark umber tones. Eden’s lips pressed together into a thin line, slowly blinking at him. But he saw the tell-tale red flare around her neck to show that her anger was mounting with each passing second.

Yoongi pressed his hips against hers, further bracing her against the tree and preventing her from escaping. But she made no move to remove herself from the situation. Whether she believed it was fruitless or if she was unable to was something that Yoongi couldn’t figure out. Her expression was so impassive outside of her clear outrage. She could have pushed him aside, slapped him, kicked him in the shin or, hell, even kneed him in the nuts.

But she did none of that. The only sign of a visible struggle was the flex of her muscle against his fingers. Why wasn’t she fighting back?

“Yoongi-ah,” she said, cutting through the turmoil raging in his head. He blinked, looking at her – really looking at her. But he couldn’t read the face she was making. “What do you want from me?”

“W-What?” He felt his mouth go dry and he involuntarily tried to swallow.

“You heard me.” She lazily blinked again. “What. Do. You. Want. From. Me?”

Eden made a point to enunciate each word of the question. It stung, like someone plucking hairs straight from the root of his head. But it was a question he wasn’t ready to answer. Or maybe he didn’t have an answer. He had every opportunity to fix the problems he’d caused. He had every chance in the world to come clean and he hadn’t. Asking anything from her, even now, would have been plain selfishness.

Yet, Yoongi wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be greedy. He wanted to play dirty and he wanted to be as unfair as humanly possible.

Instead of answering her, he leaned forward and forcefully pressed his lips against hers. He heard her sharp intake of breath and there was a sound of bark scraping from the tree and hitting the grass. Yoongi waited for her to shove him, slap him, or even to feel a sharp pain in his gut as she stabbed him. None of it came.

Nothing happened.

When he pulled back, Yoongi saw Eden’s eyes filling with tears. Whether they were angry tears or something else, he couldn’t be sure. When they finally leaked from her eyes, he took a step back and released the hold he had on her. His breath came out rapidly – like he’d broken the surface of the ocean after nearly sinking to his death.

There was clarity. Absolute clarity.

And it hurt him.

“Eden, I—”

“Wow,” she said, her bottom lip trembling as more tears streamed down her face, “you’re a real asshole, Min Yoongi. You know that?”

He sighed, nodding.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You’re scum.”

He averted his gaze, too ashamed to look at her.

“I know.”

“And you’re the worst kind of pretender.”

He closed his eyes, wincing.

“You’re right. I am.”

Yoongi heard her leaving, her body shuffling through the grass and branches to exit the park. When her footsteps were far enough away, he felt his legs begin to tremble. Taking a step forward, he spun and let his back fall against the tree Eden previously was pressed on. It was still warm.

He looked down, spying the book that still laid abandoned on the grass. He slid down until he was sitting, his hand reaching out to grasp the book and finally looking at the title. Yoongi smiled bitterly.

“Pride and Prejudice, huh?”

A pathetic laugh escaped his chest as he covered his eyes with his forearm. It was over. It was really over. To think otherwise would have been a fool’s errand. Mistakes were made, even now, and Yoongi had no choice but to admit to them. To admit that she was no longer his.

That she never would be.

Hugging one knee to his chest, he buried his face into the crook of his arm and released a painful laugh. “…I’m sorry, Jungkook-ah,” Yoongi whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “Your Hyung is so fucking sorry.”