#i just want to write a story about this one fucking oc that has haunted me for years and through a mental breakdown + fraught relationship

[pyrriax]

ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏

[borathae]

The Consequences of Fucking Up

“Your break up was messy and painful. All you want to do is to forget about him. His friends, who ever since you ended it with Yoongi see you as their bullying target, make sure that the memory of him stays fresh in your mind however, haunting you day by fucking day. While Yoongi makes it seem as if he gives no fuck about your situation. Until one night he is in front of your door. Drunk and fucking regretful.���

♥️ Requested by anonie ♥️

Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Exes!AU, Messy Break-Up!AU, Crime!AU, Cop!AU, Hurt and Comfort, Angst, Smut, a lil bit of Fluff

Wordcount: 15.9k

Warnings: lowkey they're bad for each other, but also somehow so right?, OC is such a people hater, I feel like she has mental health issues which are never addressed tbfh, she is quite the pessimist, unhealthy consumption of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes & weed (listen. i hate smoking and stand by that but it sadly fits their characters), Yoongi is kinda apathetic and cold, or is he??, IS HE???, implied violence and murder, corrupt cops & lawyers, policeman!Jungkook makes an appearance and he stole my heart tbfh :(, he is so cute that i almost sobbed, drugdealer!Hoseok makes an appearance too, there is also detective!Namjoon and smuggler!Taehyung because I love this vibe :); abuse of power, fuck Yoongi just fuck he is so ngngn, slightly protective & possessive!Yoongi, intoxicated sex, desperate!Yoongi, no foreplay, but she is not uncomfortable, choking (m.receiving), rough desperate sex, position change from sex against a sofa to missionary on said sofa, a lil bit of strength kink hihi, he cums too soon, dirty talk, tears :'), he is actually so emotional during the sex, the ending is so cheesy and cute <3, Spoiler: he is willing to change!! and he is a cutie actually, jsjsjsj sorry but i love yoongi a lot :(

Disclaimer: This is purely fiction and isn't like my usual stories. It does not portray how the boys actually are and it is not how I see them. This is a work of fiction with no correlation to real life. The type of relationships depicted in this story are far from how I normally portray my relationships and I do not advertise for such relationhips or staying in such relationships. This story is supposed to be twisted and dark & so are the relationships in it, as well as the characters. You have been warned. If you decide to continue reading, then it is out of your own free will.

a/n: now that the disclaimer is out of the way i can officially bark because woof woof fuckkcc anonie thank you so much for this idea. i had the worst and best time writing this story like nfnfnf her mental state was definitely very difficult to write, but their tension just got to me. i made the ending as cute and fluffy as possible just as you wanted hihi <3 also i love villian characters who would set the whole world on fire just to prove their dedication :) i hope this is what you imagined, because i kinda made it longer and with more plot than i planned to at first sjjsjs i couldn't be stopped jsjsj ALSO this is giving me the perfect opportunity to finally write a Kook request I got years ago ohoho

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

Three months prior

“So you’re breaking up with me?” he asks, gawking at you with widened eyes. He looks more surprised than he does hurt. Probably because it hasn’t actually sunk in yet.

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.” He laughs because he never takes anything seriously.

“Yes. I am.”

“Too bad, I won’t act like it.”

“Yeah, you will.”

He laughs, “you’ve had better jokes, but I still admire the commitment.”

“You see. That’s the problem with you. Everything’s a fucking joke to you.”

He is smiling. It reaches his eyes.

“Your job, your men. Me. Everything’s a fucking joke to you. If you would have taken Sukuna’s thread seriously, Soojin would still be alive. If you didn’t fucking insult Miss Mei, you wouldn’t have lost twenty thousand in drugs and you wouldn’t have to fucking kiss asses like a beggar.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.

“If you would have put any kind of effort into me, I wouldn’t be leaving now. You take everything as a joke, while in reality you are the biggest joke here.”

His smile falls. You stood up and that actually scared him. 

“Wait baby, wait. Princess, we can talk about this”, he argues, closing the distance with his arms stretched open. “I’ll fix the issue with Miss Mei, I promise.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m done talking. Soojin died because of your recklessness.” 

Yoongi touches your hands. He holds them, clutches them. You have never felt such a touch from him before. As if he actually loved you. 

“What can I do? Tell me and I’ll do it”, he offers, caressing your knuckles. 

This is what you craved for months. Affection. Attention. You were always a passing thought to him. Something to fuck and possess. Something low maintenance like all his other shit. His current touch almost makes you want to stay because for the briefest moment, your breaking heart wants to believe that he finally changed. 

But you know better. He doesn’t take you seriously and if you stay, you will one day end up like Soojin. Metaphorically or not, you will end up dead because of him. 

“There is nothing you can do. Sorry.”

You slip out of his touch.

“Baby”, Yoongi follows you with panicked eyes, trying to touch you again.

“Goodbye, Min Yoongi.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

You close the door and run, finally letting the tears escape. 

You love him.

You always have and perhaps always will. 

You don’t want to leave, but know that staying will kill you. 

One week passes. You spent it holed up in your small, shitty apartment, crying your heart out. Yoongi was the best and worst thing that ever happened to you and you miss him. You hate that you miss him. Because he was way worse than he was good. 

He was never abusive. He was a violent man to anyone but you. You, he always touched with utmost care. At you, he never screamed. But he was still not good. He was cold and apathetic at times, then terribly affectionate at others, only to become cold again. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You wouldn’t have left your apartment today if your fridge hadn’t been empty. It wasn’t always empty, but sadly enough, groceries don’t magically appear. Not even for an outlaw such as yourself.

The city is busy. The smell of street food, smog and body odor poisons the air. The weather is hot these days and people started sweating more. You can’t stand people. You pull the mask tighter around your nose, hoping to shield the stench this way. 

You greet the clerk when you enter the shop, lowering your mask. It smells of grocery store in here. Fresh bread, produce and clean floors. It’s a welcome change to the rancid outside.

You spent fourty minutes in the shop and pay with cash. You never pay with card because it can be traced. Someone like you can’t risk being found. 

“See you”, you say your goodbyes and leave the store. You plan on coming back in three weeks. You can’t stand being outside often.

The door just about closed behind you and then someone jumps you. Three people to be more exact. Two hold your arms while one rips the bags out of your hands. 

“Let go! Hey, you fuckers!” you fight them off instantly, surprised at how easily it is to do. Way too easy. They let go of you as quickly as they grabbed you. At first you think that nothing happened, until you notice your grocery bags in one of the guys’ hands. They stole your stuff!

“You motherfuckers! Get back here! They’re mine!” 

They run away, flipping you off over their shoulders.

You sprint after them, but before you reach them, they jump onto a tuk tuk and drive off, finally showing you their faces. Those were some of Yoongi’s underlings.

“What the fuck?” You stumble back in disbelief. “Did they fucking steal my food? What the fuck’s happening?” 

It takes you a while before you finally come to the conclusion that you have to buy everything they stole a second time. And you do. And nobody jumps you. And you go home, make yourself shitty dinner and drink a bottle of soju all by yourself. It isn’t a good night. It’s a shit night. But then. All your nights have been shit for years.

You met Yoongi four years ago. It correlates with when your shit nights began. Okay, you are being unfair. The first two years with him were paradise and your nights were wonderful. You were an aspiring lawyer, while he was in the midst of getting a promotion to superintendent.  You supported each other’s dreams, motivated each other and celebrated when your goals were achieved. Then the truth spilled out. The man you knew to love turned out to be a lie. Why you never left, you do not know. He gave you the chance to leave, but you didn’t. You made yourself low maintenance to him and your nights became shit. He pretended to be a proper policeman by day while you pretended to be a proper lawyer and at night he became what he hunted by day while you tried to hide whatever evidence about him flooded into the offices. You hated it at first, then loved it, then lost your job because of it and became dependent on him and started to hate it again. Well, at least working for him. You liked everything else. Having to work in the system and seeing how corrupt even the most eligible politicians or CEOs truly are, made you realise that perhaps stealing from them isn’t as bad as it first sounded. You liked being on the dark side of the law because the bright side was just as twisted. You just simply started to hate that it means being close to Yoongi.

It took Soojin’s death to finally make you realise that staying with him will end in your death as well. And so you finally left.

You will start a new life, make up a new identity, move to a different country and forget about him. Maybe. Who knows. You haven’t decided yet.

A letter comes five days after the grocery store incident. It is stuffed into an unsealed envelope and clearly delivered by the person who wrote it. You open it, feeling shit instantly. Whoever wrote this letter is calling you the most hurtful of names, telling you personal stuff which truly hurts. You throw it away and go back inside, opening a bottle of soju. It wasn’t Yoongi’s handwriting, but somehow you still think that it is connected to him. You try not to let it get to you, but you still end up rotting away in your bed for the rest of the week only leaving it to piss, shit and eat. 

The next week your packages are missing. You never get them back. The culprit is never found. You curse the sky, knowing that it was fruitless. Yet again, you think that it was connected to him. To Yoongi, the man you wanted to forget, but who keeps haunting you day by day.

The city at night is a dangerous place. If you don’t know where to walk, you could find yourself in a rather messy situation. Especially as a woman. You are glad that most women are clever enough to stay at home once darkness greets the streets. Most women don’t know how to defend themselves though. Properly and without the law in mind. You killed before. Once. It was self defence. Yoongi took care of the body, you never found out what happened to it. He stayed with you the night it happened, even let you cry in his arms. He was gone the next day and never spoke of it again.

You clutch the big knife tightly in your bag, scanning the streets constantly. It isn’t far anymore until you are home. Hopefully the heavy rain clouds stay dry until you get there. You aren’t in the mood to get wet. Not tonight. You would have never left if you hadn’t ran out of fucking cigarettes. The kiosk was closed, so the journey was useless. Thunder announces that the clouds aren’t your friends. Mere seconds later, it starts pouring.

“Fucking shit, I hate this city.”

Rain in this city is always dirty and never really cold. You take it as a bad sign. Rain shouldn’t be warm. Not always, not constantly. Something’s wrong with this city. Something is rotting slowly until one day it will consume everything in its wake. You hope to have left before it can wake up.

The way home is too long for the amount of dirty rain it pours. You find refuge under a shop sign. There are no rooftops or canopies in sight and the only thing close to a safe place was the stupid restaurant sign. Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in bright red letters. The place is stuffed with people and the smell of beef broth mixes with the dirty scent of rain. You grind your teeth. What a shitty situation you find yourself in. You prefer being outside though. You know that once inside, the restaurant would be hot and stink of digested booze and body odor. You take getting wet over breathing in people’s air.

Except that you don’t really stay wet for long. The distinct sound of rain hitting an umbrella meets your ears. You look up. Black. You look to the side at the person holding it. Yoongi. Your stomach twists, your heart skips a beat. He is wearing a suit tonight. Black with a black tie. His hair is slicked back. He used makeup to  conceal the scar running all the way from his forehead over his eye and down half his cheek. This is his work outfit. His police chief outfit. Yes. He is a chief these days.

Your instincts tell you to leave without saying anything, but it’s been six weeks since the breakup and you still love him. You hate that you do, but can’t stop staring at his face. He has his brows raised in a nonchalant way as he inspects the heavy rain. He doesn’t grant you eye contact, but holds the umbrella in a way which lets you know that he came out here after seeing you. His left shoulder is getting wet, while you stay dry completely.

“What are you doing here?” you hear yourself ask him.

“Work dinner. I have to pay ‘cause I’m the boss and all that shit. They’re eating like greedy pigs”, he scoffs, “fucking assholes.”

“I see.”

“You?” 

“Buying smokes.”

He finally looks at you, studying from head to toe.

“The kiosk was closed”, you answer his question about your cigarettes’ whereabouts before he can ask it.

“I thought you quit.”

“Some things happened which made me start again.”

“Mhm”, he hums and takes out a packet of cigarettes from the inside of his suit jacket. He lights himself one and puts the packet away again, leaving you to stare at the smoke he blows out through his nose.

He isn’t actually serious, is he? It is like he is mocking you. It is already bad enough that he sends his stupid goons to terrorise you, now he is mocking you as well? You hate that you still love him.

You stay like this for a while. You staring at him while he holds the umbrella for you and smokes. You don’t know why you stay. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much.

Yoongi takes a long drag of the cigarette and exhales the smoke in an almost sigh-like breath. He lifts the cigarette, holding it closer to you.

“What?” you sound disbelieved, scandalised even.

He doesn’t say anything. He just shows you the cigarette as his eyes follow the endless rain. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much. But you still take the cigarette and put your lips right where he had his’ moments before. But you still smoke it as if it was the most normal thing to do. Because it once was. You and he shared many smokes in the past. It was once the most sensual, erotic thing to do between you and him. Barely clothed, intoxicated minds and high on the other, you often shared a joint as you got each other off. Fuck, it was always so fucking orgasmic to be with him that way.

“Wanna grab a bite?” he offers, pointing at the restaurant behind him, “one more mouth to feed isn’t gonna ruin me.”

You are hungry. You haven’t had a proper meal in weeks. Instant ramen, frozen food and snacks is all your body has to run on. You have no energy to cook and with how shitty you eat, it is a vicious cycle. Shitty food gives little energy, you already have low energy. The motivation to properly cook grows lower and lower each day. You dread the day you have only enough energy left to open a package of chips and eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“I’m not hungry.”

He glances at you. He knows that you are lying. Your eyes have greyed in starvation. He almost rips the cigarette out of your fingers and smokes it angrily, huffing out the smoke. 

“I’m offering”, he hisses.

“And I’m declining. I can take care of myself”, you throw back and rip the cigarette from his grasp to smoke it angrily. 

You may be starving, but you will be damned if you make yourself dependent on him again. You left him to finally prove to yourself that you can take care of yourself. You don’t need his help. Not anymore. 

You take another deep drag, then hand the cigarette to him. He smokes it, glaring at you. You know that your stubbornness angers him.

“Tell your men to stop pestering me”, you say into the tense silence. 

He looks over his shoulder at his police team. They are too drunk and caught in conversation to pay their boss any mind.

“They’re inside”, he says.

“You know I don’t mean them. Tell your other men to stop annoying me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. You do.” It is your turn to smoke. “It all started when they stole my groceries, but it’s been getting childish. My packages keep getting stolen, my internet cuts off, I find letters in my mail. Letters saying awful things about me. It’s getting ridiculous. Tell your men to stop terrorising me.”

“Stolen packages?” He takes the cigarette from you, brushing his fingers against yours as he does. The touch feels like the sweetest poison on your skin. “This doesn’t sound like my problem to solve. Go to the police.”

“Are you serious?” 

He inhales, exhales the smoke into your face. You should be disgusted by it, but almost huff it in like an addict. Yoongi watches your lids lower and your chest raise in a greedy breath, finding it hard not to stare at your lips as he hands you the cigarette. You smoke it. His eyes are still on your lips, glued to the shape of them as his throat runs dry.

“Very serious”, he rasps.

“You are the police”, you throw back in disbelief, exhaling the smoke into his face that way.

“Mhm yeah, I guess I am.” He takes the cigarette, smoking it with half lidded eyes. He exhales, handing you the cigarette. “When are you going to come home again?” he asks, looking back at the rain.

You almost choke on the smoke, exhaling it in a cough. Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Your farce is getting ridiculous”, he says coldly.

“My farce?”

This break up wasn’t the first break up you and he went through. You left many times before, always thinking that you were finally strong enough to forget him only to come crawling back again. You don’t blame him for doubting that this time will be different, but you still can’t stop yourself from getting angry.

“Did you even hear what I said?”

“I did. Go to the police. I have nothing to do with it.”

You drop the half-finished cigarette. It dies in the puddle on the ground.

“I was smoking this”, he says dryly, “besides, don’t litter.”

“Pick it up yourself if you care so much about these dirty ass streets”, you spit and turn to leave. You take getting wet over being with him any longer.

Yoongi watches you leave, shakes his head in disbelief and bends down to pick up the cigarette. He won’t run after you because you will come crawling back eventually. You always do.

“Sir?” 

He turns his head. One of his officers. He is young and with sparkles of big dreams in his eyes. Yoongi pities him. This city is going to chew him up until there is nothing left of him. He had the same dreams once and knows what the viper nest, which is the justice system, is going to do to him. 

“What do you want?” he asks him dryly, rolling the wet cigarette between his fingers.

“Who did you talk to right now?”

“Just someone important to me.”

“Shouldn’t we escort her home? It’s raining and there could be criminals on the streets. It’s too dangerous for a woman to be alone.”

“She’ll get home safely.”

“Are you sure, Sir? I stayed sober for cases like these. I could get the car right away.”

“You’re sober?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But it’s a work dinner. You’ve been off work for hours.”

The young officer salutes, “I know, Sir but a policeman shouldn’t slack, Sir.”

Yoongi feels deep pity for the young man. He is so motivated, so proper and full of good spirit. Waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him.

He pats him on the shoulder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon”, he says and swerves past him to get back inside. 

The young officer follows him with pride glimmering in his innocent eyes. Yes, waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him. 

Yoongi wasn’t always living two lives. He was like his young officer once. Full of dreams and motivation. He dreamed of using his powers to do good, to help those who needed it most and then he woke up. He watched politicians and men in power ruin, rape and kill the powerless without ever getting punished for it. He felt helpless. If even someone in his position can’t change the world, then who will? His criminal work was honourable once. He slipped evidence money under the table to hand out to the powerless, he let proof disappear for people doing crimes out of desperation. One time he was supposed to put a starving mother behind bars because she stole diapers for her babies. Yoongi couldn’t do it and so he disobeyed the law for these kinds of people.

But then his criminal work became less about the powerless and more about him. Making money the illegal way was easy and it is fucking addicting. Especially when he could make sure that evidence about him never reached the higher ups. Yoongi fucking loved the sudden power he possessed and he was too blinded by it to see that he became exactly what drove him to criminality in the first place.

Yoongi tells his officer to check up on your place that night. The young officer rings the doorbell like he was told to do.

You open it, swaying from intoxication as you do. The stench of digested booze wafts off you. But you somehow seem to sober up when you see the police badges on his shirt.

“You’ve got the wrong person”, you tell him, trying to morph your face into an expression of sobriety.

“Don’t worry, Miss. I came here to check on you.”

“Check on me?”

“Yes, Miss.” He salutes you. “I have orders from my captain to make sure that you arrived home safely and that you received this”, he says with an innocent smile on his lips, presenting a plastic bag to you. 

Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in red letters and inside, three big takeout containers of food are waiting to be eaten. 

Everything clicks into place. This is one of Yoongi’s employees. Another young, hopeful spirit which will be crushed in the system. You pity the young officer. You had the same innocent sparkle in your eyes once.

Hesitantly, you accept the takeout food.

“Thanks”, you mumble.

“Any time, Miss.” He studies you for a moment. “Are you…are you okay, Miss?”

You bite back tears. His empathy is going to kill him one day. But it feels so good to receive. You haven’t been asked this question in so long.

You shake your head. He straightens up in worry. 

“Should I call help for you, Miss?”

You know what he indicates.

“Thank you, no. I’m just going through some shit. Sorry, I’m being sappy tonight.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone, Miss.”

“I know. I’m just… I’m seriously alright, I won’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to worry, officer.” 

“Yes, well I still see it as my duty to stay because you seem sad to me”, he says and tries to go inside your apartment. He still has a lot to learn. You know from his eyes that he has no bad intentions and that he truly wants to help, but you know how the city will treat such deeds. One day he will try to help the wrong person and end up with attempted sexual assault charges. And it will fucking destroy him because people like him only see the good in the world and can’t imagine that others would want to hurt people.

You stop him with a guiding hand on his chest.

“That isn’t necessary, really. My packages keep getting stolen and I guess it’s been annoying me.”

He pulls out a pen paper instantly, stepping closer to you without noticing, “your packages? Have you seen anyone suspicious? How many packages have gone missing? When did it start?”

“No, I… Thank you for your concern and the food, but I will get through the night safely.”

He steps back, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“Forgive me, I don’t know why I did that. My captain said that you were important to him and that I should make sure that you are well, so I wanted to do a good job at it.” He bows at you deeply. “Please forgive me, Miss.” 

“He said that?” you whisper.

He nods his head, “yes, Miss.”

“Oh. Uhm. ” You clear your throat. “Thank you, I, uhm, tell him that I’m good.” 

“I will, Miss. Here, my card. You can always call me when you need something” he hesitates, “or when you just need someone to talk to.” 

“Thank you. This is so kind.”

“You are never alone, Miss.”

“Thank you”, you say, bowing at him. He is so kind. God, you want to grab him and tell him to run before it’s too late.

He bows as well, “good night, Miss.”

“Good night.”

You watch him leave. He gives you one last look out of the police car and a kind wave, then drives off. 

You close the door with a curse. This just sobered you up. The young policeman’s kindness just sobered you up. You check his name on the card he handed you. Jeon Jungkook. Why someone like him? He never should have found his way into this field of work. 

You look at the takeout food next, feeling your stomach twist. You are important to Yoongi. Holy fuck.

It’s been eight weeks since you left him. You don’t feel better. The cigarette you shared was two weeks ago and yet you still feel as if it was sticking to your lungs. Each time you breathe out, you swear you can taste him. It almost suffocates you and keeps you from relaxing. So you leave your depressing place for a walk to the kiosk. You read somewhere that walks are good for one’s mental health. You can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are loud and fucking stink.

The vendor must be fucking with you. The day is bright, but the kiosk is closed again. You bang your fist against the closed door, cursing loudly. You want your fucking smokes is that too much to ask? This city is fucking shit.

You’ll just call someone who will always help. You saved him as Jay. His real name is Hoseok. You don’t say his real name in public. He doesn’t say yours. Yoongi sometimes called him his best friend, but what is such a title out of the mouth of the most apathetic man you know? You were his girlfriend too and look at where this has gotten you, living as an outlaw in the shit and dirt of this city.

Like always, Hoseok lets the phone ring four times then he picks up.

“Flames are hot”, he says.

“And the arsonist works hard”, you answer him.

“Hyacinth, it’s good to hear your voice”, there is finally a smile in his voice now that you answered the code correctly.

“The same goes for you, Jay.”

“What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“Nothing much. I’m out of smokes.”

“The corner in twenty?”

“Yeah.”

You and he end the call at the same time. Twenty minutes later you meet. He wears black overalls and smudged eyeliner. He says it keeps the char easier to hide. Like always, he greets you with a quick hug.

“What do you got?” you ask him.

“Whatever you want.” He opens his bag. “I’ve got cigarettes, but something stronger too”, he says, scurrying around the contents of the bag with his fingers. He always has burn marks on them, but somehow they are never dirty.

“What do fifty bucks buy?”

“For you? Two packs of cigarettes and two joints. That���s a steal.”

“Fuck dude, you’re getting expensive.”

“Yeah well, a man’s gotta eat.”

“Fine, I’ll take it.”

You and he exchange goods. He makes small talk.

“But why are you here with me? Did Suga run out of goods?”

Suga is Yoongi’s codename in public. The sound of it almost brings bile into your throat. You did such a good job in forgetting him and now the memory of him is as fresh as a new day. At least you like to pretend that you are doing a good job at forgetting him. Your heart knows better though.

“We, uhm…”

Hoseok exhales sharply, “again?”

You nod your head.

“When?”

“More than two months ago.”

“Damn, that’s long.”

“Yeah, I’m serious about it.”

He cocks his brow up.

“I am”, you insist just a little snappishly.

“Alright”, he closes his bag, “I gotta go now.”

“Already?”

He looks around nervously. Almost as if he didn’t want to be seen with you.

“Yup. Use the stuff wisely, I won’t have new stuff for a while.”

“Seriously?”

He nods his head and salutes you nonchalantly.

“See you around.”

“See…you?”

He turns his back to you and walks off quickly, soon disappearing into the busy crowd. Is this your fate? Even the people closest to you avoid you now that you aren’t Yoongi’s anymore? Were you truly only worth something as his little thing? You ball your hands into fists, bending the joints this way. You have to leave this fucking place. There is actually nothing holding you here anymore.

That night the phone terror starts. Numbers keep calling you over and over and over again. You pick up the first time, only to have to listen to the most hurtful things another human has ever said to you. The voice wasn’t Yoongi’s, but you still blame him. Now that you aren’t his thing anymore, you became free food to whoever had been waiting to make your life a living hell. You turn off your phone after an hour and go to sleep with the help of Hoseok’s joints.

The doorbell wakes you the next morning. You consider not answering because it’s probably just one of his goons wanting to terrorise you. But whoever is ringing the doorbell is stubborn, forcing you out of your bedroom. You look through the door cam first.

That young officer. He is in full uniform.

You open the door hesitantly.

“Good morning”, he greets you with a wave and a smile.

“Good morning”, you murmur. Your mouth is as dry as a fucking desert. You are also so hungry that you could throw up in his face right now.

“How are you feeling, Miss?”

“Good.”

“That’s good to hear.” He says and shows you a package which he kept hidden behind his back all this time. He smiles brightly and proudly. “Tada!”

“What’s that?”

“I caught the package thief, Miss.”

“Are you serious?” you gasp and your eyes instinctively drift to the car you have noticed parked outside your unit for days. The door is opened and someone is sitting in the backseat. He looked cuffed to the seat. You glance at the young officer and the shiteating, proud grin he is sporting. He has been watching you? Did Yoongi tell him to?

“Wait. You’re actually serious.”

“Very serious. For you, Miss”, he says and shoves the package into your face.

“Uhm, uh. Thanks”, you accept it, putting it under your arm. “Have you been watching me?”

“Did you notice the car? Sorry, I thought that I was better hidden. I’m still new to all of this. But I caught the thief, heh.” He points at himself with his thumbs. “That’s my first real arrest.”

He manages to drag an honest smile to your lips. He is kind of adorable in a way.

“That’s cool. Thank you for taking care of it. Now I’ve got nothing to worry about anymore.”

He grins and nods his head, studying your features afterwards. He opens his mouth.

“Jeon are you there? Over”, his walkie talkie interrupts whatever he wanted to ask you. He takes it off his chest harness.

“I’m here, Kim Sir. Over.”

“Come to the precinct. We need reinforcements. Over.”

“Coming right away, Sir. I caught a thief right now, Sir. Over.”

A pause where the higher officer is definitely baffled by his confession.

“Good job, Jeon. Over.”

The young officer giggles before he speaks again, doing so as seriously as possible.

“Thank you, Kim Sir. I am taking the criminal to the precinct. Over.”

“Understood. Over.”

He puts the walkie talkie back on its harness and gives you a sorry smile.

“That was my boss. My other boss, not your friend who is the boss of this boss. Anyways. I have to go now, duty calls. Are you going to be okay, Miss?”

“I am. Thank you for your kindness.”

“Anytime, Miss. Uhm, have a good day”, he says and leaves with a wave of his hand. He waves again as he drives off. You retort it, staring at his car until it disappears behind a corner. You sigh deeply. He is so nice. Why someone like him? Why does this life always find people like him?

It’s been ten weeks since you left him. You read somewhere that walks are good for your mental health. You still can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are still loud and still fucking stink. But it’s better than staying in your apartment. You’ve got new neighbours since Monday. They keep fucking like actual animals. They fucked when you left your place tonight. You were this close to kicking their door in and slaughtering them like pigs. You opted for a walk in the end.

You walk for a while then sit down by an empty bench next to the river. It is quiet. Nobody is really here. At least nobody important. A couple, how disgusting. A late night jogger, clearly a man. A homeless person, who uses another bench as their bed. You hate looking at homeless people because you feel helpless seeing them. You stopped being on the bright side of the law because of people like them. You thought that maybe if you stole from the corrupt men in power often enough, you would be able to help the ones who truly needed it. But you never managed to actually achieve anything. The homelessness in the city grows, while the pockets of the politicians become fatter and fatter in wealth. You fucking hate this city. It is rotten to the core.

“Look who we have here. If that isn’t our pretty little Hyacinth.”

You aren’t quick enough to get up to leave and then you already have two men throwing their arms over your shoulders while a third is grabbing the back of your head from behind. You try to reach for your knife but can’t. Their grip on you is too good.

“What are you doing here all alone?”

Their voices are familiar and one look at them confirms your suspicions. It’s them. The same three underlings who stole your groceries months ago.

“Leave me alone”, you tell them.

“Why should we? You are all alone. If the boss knew we’re leaving you alone, he’d grow angry.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Now, now don’t be like that. You’re just a girl and there are many dangerous men out there.”

You look to your side. One of them is licking their lips like a hungry animal.

“Yeah? And you’re being fucking inappropriate. Leave me alone”, you spit, shaking off their arms.

They let you. Just as they let you stand up and take your bag.

“Goodnight”, you tell them and leave. Quickly. You walk a good hundred feet until you finally dare to look over your shoulder only to realise in horror that they are following you. Quickly.

You can defend yourself. You know how to kill, but you also know when you are outnumbered. And three bigger men against a woman is sadly never going to end well for the woman. You hate this city and you hate this life. You know that their words were nothing but provocation. They know you aren’t with Yoongi anymore, that you aren’t under his protection anymore and that in some weird way, you sullied his honour. You also know how people who bring dishonour to the gangs of this city are punished. The men are murdered and the women, well, they are murdered too but not before being sullied themselves. You hate this city and you hate this life. This life which is going to fucking end for you soon.

You dare to look over your shoulder one more time. They are so close that you can see the hunger in their eyes. No. Nononononono. It can’t end like this. You were supposed to leave this city, start a new life, forget about Yoongi. You are not going to die here in this dirty, shitty park far away from your dream.

Thump.

You bounce back from the impact, letting out a blood curling scream. It was instinct. Just as it is instinct of the person you ran into to grasp you by your arms and pull you closer again.

“Let me go! Help! Help me!”

“Quiet”, the person hisses and shakes you. This voice sounded different. Familiar in an almost intimate way.

You dare to shift your eyes to them.

Yoongi.

“I, I, I”, you stutter, feeling delirious in both fear and shock. You grab his shirt, twisting it to get closer to him. The act is intimate and out-of-place but you are too frightened to think clearly. 

Yoongi brushes over the state of your glassy eyes to look over your shoulder. There are three men suddenly scurrying away, using the darkness to hide. He managed to get their faces.

He looks back at you. Your eyes meet. A little bit of clarity returns to you. What are you doing? Your fingers soften around his shirt. 

“I don’t…”

“Come on, we’re going home”, he say sternly and puts an arm around your waist, dragging you with him like this.

You follow him all the way to his car. You even let him sit you down on the passenger seat and you even stay seated when he rounds the car to get to the driver side. You think that you are in shock because you don’t protest when he starts the car, nor when he drives off. You simply stare outside with your knees turned to him because your body acts against your consciousness. The city passes you by in flashes of neon colours. His car smells like his cologne and leather. He has no music playing. 

Yoongi glances at your face. You have your head against the window, squeezing your hands between your thighs. The neon lights illuminate your features each time he passes by another light source. He can see that you are trying not to shake.

He takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes to the road. He has to grip the steering wheel, otherwise his hands would shake in anger.

“Should we get dinner?”

His voice rips you from whatever trance you were in. You sit up straight, looking at him. He is gripping the steering wheel to the point his knuckles pale. His long hair is hanging into his face tonight. A turquoise varsity jacket adorns him. His scar wasn’t hidden behind concealer. He wasn’t working his day job today. What was he doing at the park? Why was he there?

“Take me home”, you order him.

“I am.”

“No. Home. Not your place.”

“My place is your home”, he gets out through gritted teeth.

“No, it isn’t. Not anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Did you see what they were doing to me?”

“No.”

You are lost for words for a moment. The tears come afterwards.

“Stop the car.”

Yoongi looks at you because your voice was shaking. He holds his breath at the sight of your tears.

“What?” he makes sure.

“Stop. The. Car. Now.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

You pull the knife out on him. He swerves to the side on instinct, fixing the mistake so vigorously, you and he shake in the small space. You don’t let it affect you, holding the knife against his skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses.

“Stop the fucking car or I’ll kill us both”, you spit, holding the knife against his throat.

“Fuck”, he growls and hits the steering wheel. The car rolls to a stop.

“Get out”, you threaten.

“I am. Fuck.”

He follows your orders because you have his life at blade’s end. He still slams the door closed. You leave the car instantly.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed us both” he tries to scold you, but you silence him.

“I’m talking now”, you roar.

Yoongi closes his mouth because he has never heard you like this before.

“You are such an asshole! Each day I regret the moment I met you! You are the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

Yoongi gulps. 

“I had a life before you. I had dreams and ambitions and, and goals and…a chance. I could have had a good life. I was supposed to use my degree to help people but you ruined everything for me.”

He rounds the car in big steps, coming so close to you that you smell his breath. It smells like chewing gum. 

“You could have achieved something? What exactly did you achieve as a lawyer? Mhm, what did you achieve? This city is fucked.”

“Yes, because you fucked it!” you hit his chest. He doesn’t budge, but also doesn’t stop you. “You fucked it and you fucked me and I hate you for it!”

“Don’t blame me for your decisions. I gave you a chance to leave me back then. You were the one who stayed.”

You inch closer until your lips are almost touching. Yoongi exhales shakily, placing his hand on your hip. 

“And I will regret this decision till the day I die”, you whisper, breaking the closeness.

You slip out of his hold. He follows you in a small stumble and a trembling gasp. 

“I never want to see you again. Are we clear?” you hiss at him.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, you don’t want this”, he hisses back at you.

“You’re wrong, I don’t want you. I thought I still did, but I don’t. You don’t care about me, it’s finally so fucking obvious to me. You don’t fucking care.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“They are terrorising me, Yoongi!” You finally scream. “I wake up to people ringing my doorbell in the middle of the night, I have to keep my phone turned off because the phone calls don’t stop. I keep getting my stuff stolen and, and I thought I was going to be raped tonight! They are terrorising me and you called it not your problem!”

“No, you-”

“I’ve been living in constant fear, our friends don’t even look at me anymore, I haven’t eaten in days and I can’t-”, you stop yourself. He doesn’t even deserve your anger anymore. “-you know what? Fuck this and fuck you. I’m leaving.”

You turn your back to him and leave. 

He says your name and takes your hand. He pulls, tries to turn you to him. But you rip yourself free again.

“Don’t go”, he says.

You don’t listen.

“I’m ordering you to stay”, he sounds desperate, yelling your name, “I am ordering you!” 

He can yell as much as he wants to. You don’t listen to him anymore. The subway station isn’t far. You will make an exception and take it tonight. Even if you hate it. It stinks. Just like the rest of this shitty city.

You are going to leave. Once you are home, you are going to start packing and then you are going to leave. You will call V. You don’t know his real name, but he can change your identity as quickly as others change their socks. You will call V and tell him to have your passport ready the day after tomorrow. You will pay him with the money you have under your pillow and then leave for somewhere clean. Maybe somewhere with lots of mountains. You always heard that the air at these places is breathable.

You call V the same night. He tells you that two days is too short and to wait another week. So you wait. Your bags have been packed. You live out of them in your own place. You don’t leave it. You are scared. With how little Yoongi cared about your situation, you doubt that he told his men to stop. You are scared that if you left again, they would finally go through with what they couldn’t finish back then.

The doorbell rings during a rainy, dark night. You flinch awake to the point where you feel sick to the stomach. The lights are turned on instantly eventhough you know not to do that in such a situation. You can’t think clearly. You just want this to be over. All of it.

You run to the front door because you suddenly feared that it was unlocked. It isn’t, but you can watch someone push an envelope under your door. The shadow blocking the light outside leaves the moment the letter is inside your apartment.

You don’t want to open it at first, staring at it as if someone had planted a bomb in your apartment. Fuck it, if that is how you die then so be it, you think in the end and bend down to pick it up. It feels different in your fingers. Sophisticated. Intimate. The envelope is glued closed as if someone licked the glue stripe and the faint smell of well-known cologne lingers on the paper. You open it with shaky fingers.

A letter. It is heavy and folded once. You open it, gasping when three photographs fall out of it and onto the ground. You don’t know what is on them because they landed on their face side. So you read the letter first.

“It has always been mine as well.”

Written in black ink and a familiar handwriting. This is Yoongi’s writing.

With even shakier hands, you pick up the pictures. You feel sick for a moment, gawking at the cruel pictures with your hand thrown over your mouth. The three men who terrorised you. Their mutilated corpses look back at you. He tortured them to death.

You rip the door open, stumbling onto the balcony. You look down at what tripped you. Two bags of your favourite takeout food and a six pack of water. Both clearly fresh. So it was him. Yoongi must be here somewhere. You look into the distance. The night is loud and blurry in a thunderstorm. The streets are empty. The ghost of your past is gone again. You squint your eyes. A person.

“Yoongi!” you call out, unable to realise that you are smiling and waving your hand.

The person moves. Oh. It was just the shadow of a tree. For just a moment you had hoped that the dark shape was him waiting for you. It was just a tree…and you were happy that if could have been Yoongi. The realisation hurts.

“Fuck”, you press out, going back inside. The lump in your throat makes it hard to breathe. You stumble back to bed, halting for a moment when you pass your suitcases.

It has always been mine as well. His words repeat themselves in your head. All this time, you thought that he didn’t care. All this time, you thought that your terror left him cold. Your eyes drift over the empty takeout boxes from the noodle place. You still haven’t cleaned them up. He made sure that you were properly fed for days back then. A glance at the new stuff he got tonight. He is still making sure that you are. Your eyes drift over the package next. He made sure that they stopped getting stolen. You look at the pictures in your hands. He made sure that they would never hurt you again. All this time, you were so blinded by your own anger that you missed how he had always looked out for you. You missed his way of showing you that you were important to him.

It has always been his problem as well.

Something inside you breaks and you scream. You don’t know what you scream for, but you scream. It hurts so much. It hurts so much because you will still leave. He will hurt you again if you stay. All his efforts healed your heart and it hurts so much because you will still leave. You were meant to stay broken hearted. Leaving would have been so easy this way. Now it hurts like a bitch. But you can’t sway. You have to leave this place. It will chew up what little is left of you until you truly cease to exist.

V comes to your place the next day. He rings your doorbell. It wakes you from the uncomfortable sofa you fell asleep on last night. You groan as you sit up and you barely want to open your eyes as you stumble to the door.

You open it without checking the camera first.

“Took you long en- you?”

Jungkook, the young officer, greets you with a smile.

“I swear I’m not stalking you.”

You have a headache today, so it is difficult not to snap at him. He is also not the person you wanted in front of your door today.

“I’m starting to doubt that.”

He laughs, “it’s not that. I talked to my boss. Your friend, the boss of the other boss. Sorry, anyways. I need you to come to the precinct with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Okay so, this is actually so cool and I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but you’re my boss’ friend so I guess it’s okay”, he begins with sparkling eyes, “turns out that the package thief is actually a serial thief and you aren’t the first one he stole from. Isn’t that cool? It’s like in those movies. Those cool cop movies.”

“Really? He stole from more people?” You highly doubt that.

“Yeah”, he laughs as he answers you, nodding his head excitedly, “now we’re calling in everyone who he stole from so we can take their statements. My boss says that we can’t keep the thief locked up for long otherwise.”

You know that this wasn’t really how the law works. After all, you were once a lawyer who was fucking good at her job. Is Yoongi trying to drag you back to him? First he tries to change your mind by killing your bullies and now he is trying to do the final blow by abusing his power as police chief? You check the time. Couldn’t the young officer have come later? You could have had your passport already and be far, far away from this place.

“Can I just give it to you here?” you ask him.

“Mhm”, he tilts his head to the side, “no, I don’t think that it works like this. I’m sorry, Miss. The captain said that it’s important that all the victims come into the precinct.”

You have to give Yoongi that. He is real clever about it. That means however that you can’t escape this situation. Any more resistance from you would make you suspicious.

You give up with a sigh. “Can I just change into something different?”

“Of course, Miss.”

The young officer lets you sit in the passenger seat. He is so new at all of this. With such naivety he tells you his entire life story. That he was from the countryside and that his dream has always been to be a policeman in the city. That he studied hard for years and that he completed his enlistment with honour just so he could be a proper officer. He sounds so proud of himself that each second with him makes you hate his presence more and more. He is so fucking stupid and it angers you. Why would he throw away his life like that? Why someone like him?

You are led to one of the precinct’s interrogation rooms and are told to wait there. The table is decked with different foods.

“What’s all that?” you ask Jungkook.

“Breakfast, Miss.”

“Did your captain tell you to do that?”

“He said that wanted to make sure you get your breakfast because we called you in so early. The captain really cares for the citizens.”

You stifle a scoff. Sure he does.

“Mhm, I see.”

“Either way, it won’t take long”, the young officer bids his goodbyes and leaves you in the interrogation room.

His words were a lie. You wait and wait and wait, but nothing happens. There are no clocks in this godforsaken room, but you still know that it has to be hours. You didn’t want to eat the breakfast at first, glaring at the two-way mirror because in your mind, Yoongi was behind it, watching you and making sure that you ate. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction at first, but had to in the end. The body begins working against one’s will when it is starving and the breakfast looked way too good. You eat all of it, then glare at the mirror again. You are still left alone and more time passes. It is as if they are trying to wear you down, as if you were the criminal in this situation. Granted, you are a criminal, but only Yoongi knows that and right now you are a poor civilian having done nothing wrong. You know that it’s Yoongi’s doing. That he somehow wants to terrorise you.

So when the door finally opens and he walks into the room, you almost throw the empty bowl at his head.

“Forgive the wait, Miss but something came up”, he says nonchalantly, flicking through some papers.

His second in command Kim Namjoon and the young officer Jeon Jungkook are behind him, which is why he is putting up this act. You grind your teeth.

“I already started to wonder if I’m in danger here”, you say way too sweetly.

“That depends on how you are going to answer our questions”, he says and sits down on the chair in front of you.

Jungkook stays by the door while Kim Namjoon stands a little to your side.

You look around yourself. He is trying to intimidate you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I thought that I’m here to give my statement because of my stolen packages.”

Yoongi glances up from the papers. This is the first time your eyes meet after your fight and he killed your bullies. If only the others in this room would know how much blood he has on his hands and to which length he is willing to go to protect you. There were times where you would have dragged him over the table and kissed him senseless, but not anymore. You are stronger than your urges, even if it hurts your heart. You can’t give in again. If you do, he will take you for granted again. You won’t be happy with him. You finally have to fucking understand that.

“You’re right. You are here because of that”, he says dryly.

“Good. It started on May sixteen. I came home at around seven ten and noticed that my packages were missing. Two were stolen back then, but in total he stole eight packages”, you say and proceed to tell him the exact dates with the time as well as what was stolen.  

“You seem to know how such hearings work”, he says after he wrote down what you said.

“I had a few hours to practice what I was going to say”, you say with a poisonous smile.

One Yoongi retorts with just as much poison and a deep hum.

“Apologies again.”

“Don’t worry, I know how hard the police works at keeping this honourable city safe.”

He tongues his cheek. You give him a victorious smirk. This cut. Good. He takes a deep breath and releases it through his nose, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out a cigarette. He gets as far as to put it to his lips and then Kim Namjoon already speaks up.

“Captain. Smoking is prohibited in this building.”

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out and takes the cigarette between two fingers to tap it against the table instead.

“Smoking is bad for you either way”, you say.

He tongues his cheek again. You know that he wants to curse at you right now, but can’t. He has to put up a friendly act.

“I know, can’t shake the habit”, he says and studies your face, “so what now?”

“Sir?” Kim Namjoon is rightfully confused. Yoongi slipped up.

“I don’t know, I was never in such a place before. Do you still need to take my information?” you act oblivious.

“We already have everything.”

“Great. Then I can go?” you ask, fluttering your lashes innocently.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Sir?” “What? Why?”

Yoongi shifts in his chair until he manspreads like an idiot. He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“What are you going to do now?” he asks you.

“Uhm…is this still part of my hearing?” you ask, glancing at Kim Namjoon.

“No of course not, Miss. Please, follow me.”

“Sit. Down.”

The room is silent for a moment. You glare at Yoongi while Namjoon and Jungkook gawk in complete confusion. Their captain acts out of character. There is no reason to keep the innocent lady here any longer. This isn’t like him at all. He has been fidgeting all day, barely drank his coffee, went for far too many smoke breaks and now this. The officers have no explanation for their captain’s sudden behaviour.

“What is the reason for this?” you ask him.

“Just safety precautions. We wouldn’t want our honest citizen to get into danger”, he says coldly, “now answer my question. What are your plans now, Miss?”

“I will go home.”

“Where is that home?”

“Sir, I don’t know if that is necessary.”

“Shut up, Kim.”

Namjoon gulps, exchanging a confused look with Jeon Jungkook. This is really not like their captain.

Yoongi straightens up and leans forward so he is closer to you.

“Where is that home, Miss?”

You lower your eyes in anger.

“I don’t know yet, I’m planning to leave this city.”

“What?” his voice shook as he spoke. His fingers close and break the cigarette that way. His eyes almost bore holes into yours from how deeply he stares into them.

“This city’s become too depressing for me. I plan on leaving it for good.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. There is nothing holding me here anymore.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there really isn’t. I will leave.”

Bang!

You flinched back. Namjoon and Jungkook tense up as well.

Yoongi slammed his hand on the table, jumping to his feet.

“No the fuck you won’t!” he yells.

“Sir? What are you doing?!”

“Excuse me? It’s my right as an honest citizen to move”, you act oblivious as well.

“Keep her here”, he talks to Jungkook, pointing at him, “lock her up and keep her here.”

“Under what pretence, Sir?” the young officer asks with widened eyes.

“I, I, I don’t know. Refusal to, to, to cooperate or some shit like that”, Yoongi never stutters and he never paces, but he is currently doing both of those things.

“Sir…is…this legal?” Jungkook asks shyly.

Yoongi is by Jungkook’s side within a few steps, grabbing him by the collar.

“Do as you are told, Jeon! Unless you want to lose this job!” Yoongi growls, making Jungkook whimper with fear.

“Captain Min, you are stepping out of place”, Kim Namjoon speaks up, dragging him away from Jungkook, “and get off this poor officer’s neck. He is just doing his job.”

Yoongi whips around, now targeting his anger at Namjoon.

“If he was doing his fucking job, he would lock her up”, he hisses, pointing at you.

“I need you to step out for a moment, Captain”, Namjoon says and gestures Jungkook to open the door. The young officer obeys, holding it open as Namjoon shoves a protesting Yoongi out of the room. He closes the door again, muting the vivid fighting Yoongi was doing with Namjoon outside.

He meets your eyes, smiling awkwardly.

“Please forgive the Captain, Miss. He is very concerned about his citizens’ safety.” He is a terrible liar, but you don’t blame him. If you were in his situation, you would have no idea how to explain such a situation to a supposed innocent citizen either.

“Don’t worry. I, I’m just wondering if maybe I can finally leave? I’m sorry, this just really scared me and I just want to lie down at home now”, you act shaken up, looking at the young officer with pleading eyes. 

“Of course, Miss. Our honest apologies again, Miss. Please follow me”, he says and leads you out of the room.

Yoongi and Namjoon are still arguing, but stop when they see you come out. You lock eyes with Yoongi for the briefest of moments. 

He closes the distance and grabs your wrist, dragging you with him with such vigour that nobody truly gets time to act. Not even you know what was happening to you until you find yourself in his office with the door slammed shut. 

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not the one asking this question right now!”

“Yoongi, lower your voice. This isn’t the place for screams.”

He steps closer to you, pointing at your face in warning.

“I have every fucking right to scream right now and you know that”, he presses out through gritted teeth.

“Why? Because I finally don’t need you anymore?”

“You can’t move. What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I’m-”

‘I'm not done”, he interrupts you, “I killed them for you. I did it. Just for you. Because your safety matters to me. I care.” He hits his own chest. “I showed you that I care and you’re gonna leave?”

You hate that you love him, but not for the usual reasons. You hate it because it hurts. You are going to leave despite not wanting to. You love him, perhaps you always will but you are also going to leave. 

You nod your head.

Yoongi exhales shakily, taking a stumbling step back. He stares at you as if you were the ghost whose haunting hurts him the most. He huffs out air, rubs his hand over his mouth, then runs it through his hair and down the side of his neck.

“I’ll kill the thief”, he says in the end.

“What?” 

“I'll make it seem like suicide. He’ll look like a pisser who couldn’t take prison and killed himself.”

“Are you out of your mind? He’s just a thief.”

“Well, what more do you need?!” he screams

“Nothing! I don’t need anything from you!”

“Why not? I can give you whatever you want!”

“Look at you. Now that you finally realised, I’m actually serious about the breakup, you wanna act like you care.”

“I care”, his voice broke, but you are both too angry to acknowledge it, “i-i-if I knew that you- I just-” He breathes in, breathes out, rubs his mouth, then his neck. “It can’t end like this. It can’t.”

“It can. I’m done begging you for everything.”

Yoongi steps closer.

“I can-”

“Sir? What is the meaning of this?” 

Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook are in the office. The rest of the precinct gawks at you and Yoongi through the doorway. The latter lifts his hands and steps back. His fingers are shaking. 

“The captain just voiced his worries for my move. Don’t worry about it, Kim Sir”, you lie and turn to leave, “may I finally leave?”

Namjoon tells Jungkook to handle it with a nod of his head. The young officer points at the open door.

“Please after you, Miss.”

Yoongi says your name. 

You look at him over your shoulder, despite knowing you shouldn’t. He takes a step closer, lifting his brows in pleading. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. You ball your hands to fists and turn your back to him.

Yoongi tries your name again, hoping for another look. One which doesn’t come. 

“Come back”, he tries, but gets stopped by Namjoon.

You can hear them talk as you leave.

“What the fuck’s your issue, man? You’ve been weird all day and now you’re screaming at citizens?”

“Watch your tone.”

“Hyung, I’m not here as your colleague right now. I’m here as your friend.”

“She’s gonna leave, she can’t…”

Jungkook leads you away from the office before you can hear Yoongi’s full answer. 

“Are you crying, Miss??”

“Hm? Oh that, don’t mind them. It’s just…” Your heart is broken and you want to run back to Yoongi. “...forgive me, I’m just a little shaken from everything.”

“I’m sorry, Miss. The captain isn’t normally like this.”

“It’s alright. I know how Yoongi can be sometimes.”

“Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, glancing at the captain’s office. He wonders what kind of friends you and he are. Maybe Those kind of friends? Is that why you are important to the captain? 

“I mean…sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I just wish to go home now.”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Oh god, I don’t even have money for a bus ticket with me”, you murmur to yourself, looking for your wallet. This is all a scheme to get Jungkook to drive you home again. You are worried that if he didn’t, Yoongi would somehow get to you before you could reach the station.

“Don’t worry about it, Miss. As a policeman, it is my duty to make sure that you get home safely.”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Of course, Miss.”

And so he takes you home and you hate yourself because of it. So it began. You were the first person who used his kindness to her advantage. You were the drop beginning the inevitable filling of the tank until one day it will swap over. And once that happens, it is almost impossible to stop the leak. Fuck, you are just as terrible as everyone else in this city.

But the young officer is oblivious to what you just did, driving you home with a kind smile on his face. He even walks you to your door and stays as you unlock it. Your neighbours are fucking again. He glances at their door, then awkwardly at you.

“Yeah, I’ve got new neighbours. You can’t go over there and flash your badge and tell them to shut up, can you?”

“Of course I can, Miss. Just one mom-”

“No stop, I was joking”, you stop him, studying him with exhausted eyes. You are so sorry. You are so fucking sorry.

“Ah, okay. Please forgive me, I always take everything way too seriously”, he says, scratching his own neck shyly. He furrows his brows. “What’s the matter, Miss?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Run.”

“What?”

“Run back to your hometown. Run and never look back.”

“Excuse me?” he laughs in confusion, furrowing his brows harder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon Jungkook. This city will fucking ruin you.”

“I…uh…” He laughs nervously. “I don’t seem to follow, Miss. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to get it, just listen to me. Please.”

“O…kay? I uhm…”

“Thank you for driving me home. I’ll think of you sometimes in my new home.”

“Miss, are you okay?”

“I am. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. Just promise me to run.”

“I promise?”

“Good. Be happy, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Miss, I-”

You close the door on him and lock it. You don’t expect him to knock or ring the bell. He is too proper to annoy you this way. You check the camera. He stares at the closed door for a few moments longer, looking confused. He lifts his hand to knock, hesitates and turns his back to the door instead, leaving down the steps to drive off. You know that you confused him, but you had to. Please let it be enough to save him.

V arrives later that day. He is stressed and clearly in a hurry.

“What’s wrong? You look like you need to be somewhere or like you need to shit. Do you need to shit?”

“What? No”, he sounds out of breath as well as annoyed, “I’m risking my ass being here. I’ve got your stuff. It’s the only thing except mine that I managed to save. Give me the money, quick.”

“Save?” you probe, giving him the money.

He stuffs it into his boxers hastily, looking over his shoulder again.

“My place got raided by cops. I was at the market getting food, then came back to five cop cars in front of my place. I barely escaped. If I didn’t always carry my stuff with me, I’d have been fucked.”

“What?!”

“Sorry, Hyacinth. Gotta leave the city for a while. I wish you all the best.”

“V, what the fuck?”

“Here’s to never seeing each other again, aye?” he jokes, laughing nervously. It’s a good thing he said. Never seeing each other again meant that you and he managed to escape safely.

“Wait. Where will you go?”

“I can’t tell you. You know I can’t.”

“Yeah, just…be careful.”

“You too.”

He leaves and you know that he will be successful. If there is one person who won’t ever be found it is V. 

You are in a trance for the rest of the day. Yoongi raided V’s place. He went as far as to betray his own people just to make sure that you wouldn’t leave. Carrying your new passport feels like a trophy, as much as it feels like a curse. Leaving this city won’t be as easy anymore now that he knows. You are so fucking stupid for telling him, but you didn’t want to miss out on his reaction when he found out. The small moment of satisfaction seems skippable now that you know how far he is willing to go to keep you close. And because V came as late as he did, your means of escape don’t drive anymore either. You have to wait for the earliest bus if you wanted to or not. Fuck, you did this to yourself. You stupid fucking woman. Look at you. You have this big, honourable degree and still manage to get yourself into shitty situations over and over again.

You go to sleep with a gun under your pillow. You won’t risk anything.

You don’t get a lot of sleep and then a noise wakes you. You heard it as clear as day. Someone unlocked your front door. He sent men to get you. Now he’s gone too far. You jump out of bed and grab your loaded gun, tiptoeing to a spot from where you could observe the apartment. You have to be strategic about it. First count the men, then calculate the fastest way to shoot them, then act. The door closes and locks again. Clever bastards, they want to make sure that you don’t flee. Oh, you are going to have a blast killing them. One last little thing to leave Yoongi before you abandon him.

The automatic lights turn on. Got you, assholes.

The first enters your vision.

“Hm?”

Yoongi. Clearly drunk, he is dragging his feet over the floor, using the wall as support. No one else follows him. So he came here alone. 

Overtaken by anger, you jump out of hiding and at him.

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

“I can’t believe you’re still hiding your keys under the flower pot. Don’t make me so worried, anyone could enter.”

“I’m gonna count to three and if you haven’t disappeared by then, I’ll shoot.”

“Can we talk?”

“One.”

“I know I fucked up. I can’t stop thinking about you. Please, can we try again?”

“Two.”

“I promise I changed. You were right, I was a joke. But I wanna do better now.”

“Three.” “I’m sorry!”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut. His death never comes. He peels his eyes open again.

You are staring, panting heavily. Tears are in your eyes.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers.

This is the first time he is the one to say these words first. It feels so good, but you can’t give in again. You made up your mind to leave…didn’t you? You study the state of him. He is heavily intoxicated. He looks the way and reeks of it.

“You’re drunk.” 

He nods his head, furrowing his brows. He touches your elbows, caressing them softly. Such touch you only get when he is drunk.

“I drank because of you. What you said today. I just…don’t move away, please”, he begs, eyes filling with tears.

“So now you care? I wasn’t important to you when I was with you and now that I’m leaving, I’m suddenly important?”

“You’ve always been important.”

“No, I haven’t. You took me for granted.”

“I did and I’m sorry. I never should have taken you for granted. I’ll do better now, please just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

“If I give you a chance again, you’ll just abuse it and hurt me.”

“No, I won’t. Please, I just.” He cups your face, running his thumbs under your eyes as gently as possible. “We were right once. We were so good together. We were a team and, and we had dreams and we made each other happy. I want this back, I wanna try to get this back again please.”

“I just want to be happy, Yoongi”, you press out.

“I’ll make you happy, baby. Please, I-I’ll make you happy again.”

“No, you’re drunk and talking fucking shit.”

“I’ll leave this city if you want me to.”

You falter. He would give up what he built just for you?

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“I would. For you I would. I’d set this whole city on fire and leave with you as it burns to fucking ashes behind us, please.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Please”, he whispers and drops his forehead against yours, “please, I want to make you happy again.”

You hate that you love him. You hate that he made you addicted to him. This is so awfully him. He gives you enough affection that you get addicted to it then takes it away again. And once he feeds it to you again, you drink it up like an alcoholic. It is always the same. 

“No, you won’t. You’re drunk.”

“Please.”

“Leave my place.”

He presses himself off the wall and grabs the nuzzle of the gun, guiding it right between his brows.

“You have to kill me if you want me gone.”

You gulp. He forces your finger to the trigger. Your airways close up.

“Kill me. Fucking kill me. I can’t live without you anyways.”

You could end it. You’ve got everything. Your suitcases, your papers, the keys of his car he drunkenly drove like an asshole. You’ve got everything you need to escape this place. You could end it, finally make sure that you have no temptation to return. You could end him and your addiction with it. He’s got your finger on the trigger, it needs just one flex and it would be over. But you never wanted him dead. No matter how much you wished for him to be gone, you never wanted him dead. Because in some fucked up way, all you really wanted was for him to put more effort into you.

“No”, you whimper, shaking your head. 

He rips the gun from your fingers and drops it on your dresser. 

“I don’t want to kill you”, you press out, sobbing softly. 

He cradles your face, wiping your tears. 

“I know”, he gets out, nodding his head, “I know you don’t, princess. I know.”

“Yoongi”, you squeak out, twisting his shirt. 

“I’m here, princess. I’m here.”

He pulls you closer until his kiss is just one breath away, feeding on the shaky breath you let ghost against his lips. His drunken eyes gaze at your mouth, his heart is racing in his chest.

“Push me away”, he tells you.

“I hate you.”

“And I love you.”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, finally touching his chest instead of his shirt. 

He moans and pulls you into a kiss. A deep, hungry kiss. 

You pull at his hair to get him off of you as much as you pull him closer, fighting for air. You hate that you love…do you really? Do you really fucking hate it? Do you really hate it when his kiss makes you feel alive again? You spent months feeling out of breath and now it’s gone. You can breathe again. At least metaphorically, physically he’s got you very close to passing out. You push at him to get distance. Air. He lets you breathe, but not escape. He pushes you to your sofa until your legs collide with the back of it. Your shaky breaths intermingle, your shared moans follow. His right hand slides to your ass, his knee lifts to your middle. 

You gasp, grinding down on him. You can’t protest because he kisses you so deeply it feels as if he wanted to consume your soul. He kisses and gropes, kisses and gropes until air is sparse. He gasps.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m fucked”, he gets out and pulls your head back so he could drag his tongue up your throat. 

It should disgust you, but it doesn’t. You moan, running your nails down his chest and arching your back. He lifts his head, looking at you with drunken, crazed obsession. His fingers just can’t stay still on your body. It is as if he wanted to touch everywhere at all times. The attention makes you short of breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You touch his cheek. He leans into your palm, closing his eyes when you trace his scar. You were with him when he got it. It was during a fight. He fought with his fists, his opponent chose the cowardly way and pulled a knife on him. He was lucky that he didn’t lose his eyesight. He hated it at first, but you made him feel handsome. You always looked out for him that way.

“Do you…do you think I’m handsome?” he asks. Such questions you only get when he’s drunk. 

“I do.”

His breath trembles as it leaves him. He drops his hand from your hips to take out his cock. He touches himself, gazing at you as if he needed the view of you to stay hard. And he does. He needs you. You are the only person who can turn him on.

You look at what his hand is doing, gulping heavily. He sighs, gazing at your face. You are as mesmerised by him as you were when everything was still good between you and him. His cock still has the same effect on you.

“Princess?” he tilts your head back up to meet your eyes, using only two fingers under your chin for it. 

You meet his eyes, heart racing unbearably.

“Yes?” One little lift of his brows and you give him the answer he craved. 

You part your legs, tilting your hips closer to him. You nod your head vigorously, gazing at his cock again.

He doesn’t bother to pull his pants down all the way, neither does he care about taking off your panties. He pushes them to the side and stuffs you full of him, gripping the edge of the couch and your right thigh as deep moans leave him. Your right leg is lifted like this, supported by him.

You gasp, tensing up. Your toes curl instantly, your fingers clutch his lower arms. His cock stretches you out and stuffs your walls. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is definitely intense. You gasp again, looking at him with widened eyes.

“I know baby, I know”, he breathes and bottoms out. “It’s been too long. Fuck.” 

He moves, chasing your warmth in drunk, sloppy thrusts. You writhe and gasp repeatedly, scratching the back of his neck. You want to hate that you love him. He should feel like an intruder. You should want to kick and scream for help. But you don’t want to. You feel whole again. No preparation, but he doesn’t hurt. His kiss and touch was enough. Your addiction to him runs so deep that his cock is pure heroin to you.

“Yoongi”, you get out, grabbing his throat. Your thumbs are on his Adam’s apple, threatening to press down.

He smiles, “I love you”, he gasps out and drops his head against yours. His long hair tickles your face, his drunken breath swirls over your skin. He gulps and moans under your fingers, pumping into you with no signs of slowing down. You start losing strength in your calf, standing like this is exhausting, but if you were being honest, you don’t want it to stop. 

“I hate you.”

“Fucking kill me then”, he rasps.

You close your fingers slightly.

“Harder. This isn’t gonna do it.”

“You first.”

“Fuck, baby”, he gets out and lifts you so he could round the sofa with you. He pins you down into the pillows, ripping the panties off of you and kicking his pants off. He pushes into you before you can truly realise what was happening, feeding you all of him until he can’t give any more. He twists the pillow next to your head as he takes on a punishing rhythm. His dark hair hangs into his face, his teeth are bared as he huffs like an angry animal.

“Yoon-”

“I know, baby I know. You already told me, baby. I know”, he whispers, wiping your cheek, “take me, I know you can. You’re my baby, you’re made for me.”

His praise is like medicine to you. This is all you needed. To know that he is still obsessed with you and that you still affect him. 

You close your legs around his hips, keeping him with you this way. You need him to always stay like this. He moans your name, slipping his fingers from your cheek to hold the pillow instead. You told him that you hated him, but your body betrays you. Your eyes betray you. You keep him close, gaze at him as if he was your everything. Yoongi’s head is turning. Not only from the alcohol, but also from being with you again. And from knowing that you still loved him.

Because he loves you so much. He hates himself for taking you for granted. He never should have. You are his everything. The fucking reason why he does all of this. The last three months were torture for him. He started smoking again, drank too much, slept too little, worked too many hours. And if he didn't distract himself with work, he tried thinking up ways of showing you that he was still there for you. He ordered his officers to look out for you, sent food deliveries to your place, parked in front of your place somewhere hidden to watch you smoke on the staircase. He also followed you sometimes after you confessed to him that some of his goons were terrorising you. And each time he followed you, he wished for you to notice him just so he could get a chance at talking to you again. But you never did and Yoongi thought that you will come back again soon. Then you told him that you would move and Yoongi finally broke. He was truly losing you. Three months of hell, of lonely nights and heartbreak and he was truly losing you. 

“I missed you”, he gets out, painting his name against your favourite spots. The eagerness with which you clasp him results in your hips to lift off the pillow, allowing your clit to grind against him each time he bottoms out. The necklaces he is wearing are tangling over your face. They were too long once, but Yoongi cut them to the perfect length so they wouldn't hit your face when you are underneath him. That was six months ago. During a time you thought he didn’t care anymore. You feel so stupid now. His way of showing you that he cared was always there. He was always looking out for you. You were just too blind to see. 

You gasp and whimper, mewl and keen, looking up at him with teary eyes and your fingers closing around nothing. You can’t tell him that you missed him too because you are too overwhelmed. 

“Did you miss me too?” but Yoongi is drunk tonight and when he is drunk he is needy for your affection. 

You nod your head. 

“Say it.”

“I missed you”, you get out, following it up with a sob. 

“Baby, I love you”, he croaks, wiping your tears before dropping his forehead against yours, “I love you, baby, I love you. Don’t leave me again, please.”

“You’re so drunk.”

“Yeah, drunk ‘cause of you. Thought I’ll lose you. Baby, I can’t lose you”, he croaks and shows you his honesty with passionate rolls of his hips. Somehow he goes even deeper than before, he hits your favourite spots even better. 

You arch your back and scream his name, throwing your head back as best as possible. This is electric. Holy shit, he makes you feel good. Your face scrunches up against your will, your feet shake on his back. 

Yoongi admires you with a pounding head and racing heart, repeating what he did before over and over and over again. You react in mewls and moans and screams and he can’t get enough of it. He wants for you to lose your fucking voice because you couldn’t stop screaming for him. Because if you sound like this for him, he makes you happy. It has been too long since you actually screamed this way, so Yoongi is especially affected by tonight.

He laces his fingers with yours – again, he is drunk – and squeezes them needily. He thinks that he is crying too. He watches pearls of something drip onto your face sometimes. His eyes also burn. He doesn’t want it to stop. He is willing to carry his emotions on his sleeve if it meant you were happy again.

“Is this what you needed? Does this finally make you fucking happy?” he gets out, chasing the ecstasy as much as he helps you with your own pleasure trip.

You squeeze his hands back, making him moan your name.

“Ye-yes.”

“Argh”, he growls, trying so much harder to fuck you right. It feels so good. He has to tell you. He stayed silent way too often in the past. You want his efforts and he wants to give them to you. “You feel so good.”

The first confession was hard because he isn’t used to sharing his feelings. It was hard, but it was also ecstatic because your sounds of pleasure became louder and you tightened around him, squeezing his hands happily. 

“You feel so good. You feel so fucking good. You feel so good, princess. You feel…so good”, he can’t stop now that he started, telling you over and over and over again how you make him feel. Good. So good. He feels so good when he is with you. “You are so good. Princess, fuck. I have to..I, I have to- ah!” 

You open your eyes in time with Yoongi collapsing on top of you. He whimpers into the crook of your neck, shaking almost pathetically.

There are two things you always believed to be true about Yoongi. First: When he fucks, his moans are always deep, raspy and growly. Second: He has perfect control over his orgasms. 

Both of these things are getting proven wrong to you right here and now as he whimpers and shakes and paints your walls with his unexpected orgasm. You want to blame the alcohol on it and maybe the months of abstinence, perhaps even the fear of losing you paired with the relief of having you again. Holy fuck, he actually loves you doesn’t he?

“I love you”,  he sobs, hugging you close. 

“Yoongi ah”, he breaks you with his confession and the tenderness with which he holds you. You swear that you can taste colours for a moment. You haven’t felt honestly good in your own skin in months. This right here is what feeling good is. This is it. 

You don’t know who comes down first. You think it is Yoongi, but even if he does, he doesn’t pull out. He lets you shake and throb and clench around him until your moment of peak pleasure is over as well. He holds you silently afterwards, catching his breath in the crook of your neck. He missed your scent like nothing else. Truly, it leaves him so drugged out that he actually finds himself drooling as he smiles like a giddy boy. 

You calm down with his weight atop your chest, his length still inside you and his hair between your fingers. It is still a little stiff and crusty from the variety of hair products he keeps in it during his day job. To think that mere hours ago, you were screaming at each other in his office. It feels so far away to you now. Like a memory of an unbelievable life.

You don’t hate that you love him. You really don’t. 

“How.” He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Are you sore? Does anything hurt?”

“No, but I’m leaking.”

“Fuck”, he laughs into your shoulder, nibbling on it gently, “sorry, I just…am drunk and missed you.”

“You were pathetic doing that.”

He laughs harder. You and he have a peculiar sense of humour. He knows that you meant it fondly. You laugh as well. He lifts his head at the sound of it, cupping your cheek. 

“If it means you’re laughing, I can live with being pathetic.”

Your heart flutters.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Booze. Way too much booze.”

You laugh again. His eyes soften, he caresses your face. 

“Definitely too much booze, yeah”, you agree.

“Mhm, fuck.” He cuddles into your shoulder again. “I’m sleeping here.”

“And you think I’d let you?”

He nods his head.

“Fuck, you’re the worst.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not.”

You wake up alone the next morning. It hurts. So nothing changed. He got what he wanted, made you addicted again only to leave. Like he always did. And you are left feeling dirty and used and fucking awful. 

You probably would have stayed in bed to cry the entire day if a very worrying noise hadn’t come from outside your door. Someone’s in your kitchen. You roll out of bed and leave the room. You don’t need weapons today. You are angry enough that you will probably be able to beat whoever is dumb enough to break in. 

You cross the corner and stop, lowering your fists.

Yoongi. 

He took a shower and tied all of his wet hair into a messy bun. He is shirtless, wearing a towel around his hips. Music is playing from his phone while on the stove, breakfast is sizzling. 

“You?”

He turns at the sound of your voice, face lighting up instantly. 

“Good morning, beautiful”, he says, closing the distance to take you into a hug. “Did you sleep well?”

You don’t answer him, you push at his chest so you could look at him. You can’t believe that he is still here and that he is making you breakfast.

“What’s the matter?” he asks. 

“Why the fuck are you still here?”

He furrows his brows, “why not?”

“I, I don’t know. I just, just. I thought that…huh? You didn’t leave?”

He frowns in regret for a moment, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. He gives your left buttock an almost playful squeeze afterwards, stepping back to return to the cooking.

“I’m making your favourite. I also cleaned. Your place was a shithole, honestly.”

Still flabbergasted beyond relief, you look around your small apartment. He didn’t just clean up the garbage and tidy, he fully wiped the place down. You check the clock next. It’s way past one at noon. You slept for more than twelve hours. Damn. You never even realised how much sleep these last three months took from you until you finally fell asleep in his arms again and actually stayed asleep. You feel refreshed and not uncomfortable in your own skin. 

Last, you look at Yoongi. He is humming to the music, switching between stirring the eggs in the pan and chopping up some pork belly. 

At first you don’t want to accept that this is actually happening to you, but then the desire to be close to him gets too grande to bear. You almost run to him, colliding with his back in a passionate hug. 

He stumbles and grunts, following it up with a fond chuckle and his big hands rubbing your lower arms. 

“Please don’t make me regret this again. Please.”

He turns in your arms, caressing your waist. He shakes his head, looking at you in ways he hasn’t looked at you in ages. As if he honestly loved you. 

“Can you promise me?”

“I promise you, baby”, he says in a soft voice and locks pinkies with you. 

The gesture is so cute and honest, that you have to stifle a giggle. Your heart hasn’t fluttered like this in ages.

“I have an idea. How about I’ll take next week off and we’re leaving this city for a while? Maybe the mountains? You’d like the air there”, he suggests. 

“Are you serious? Do you actually mean that?”

He nods his head. You and he began swaying to the music, looking at nothing else but the other. 

“But first I gotta sort out the mess I made when I busted V’s place”, he says.

“Yeah true.” You slap his chest. “Fuck you for that. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, I know. I acted irrationally, I admit. But I’m gonna fix this. You know how easily I can make stuff disappear. He’ll be able to return again in a week or so.”

“I hope you’ll fix this, you idiot you.”

“Mhm, I will and then I’m taking you on a long vacation”, he says, kissing your forehead before hugging you against his chest.

You close your eyes, melting into his chest. 

“And when we’re there, I’m gonna make you breakfast and make you cum and make you smile. Yeah?” he whispers.

“Yeah”, you snicker.

He smells like your shower gel today, but you don’t mind. He hasn’t shown such an actual desire to change in months and it feels so good to receive. You love that you love him. You really do. 

“I love you, Yoongi”, you whisper, feeling him squeeze you for just a moment as your confession overwhelms him. 

“I love you too, princess”, he tells you and he is sober for it because he swore to himself that he won’t need alcohol anymore to be able to show you his affection. 

He is willing to better himself, he truly is and a week later, you and he are in his car on your way to a long vacation in the mountains.

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 3

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

The shadows unceremoniously dumped a whole stack of Sellyn Drake Novels on Azriel’s desk.

Azriel eyed the stack of novels dubiously, wondering how in the Mother's blessed name the Shadows had gotten their hands on these. Or why.

But they stayed silent, clearly waiting for him to outright demand an answer. *Why?* he asked with a long suffering sigh. *What's this about?*

No response.

Azriel reached for one of the books, pulling it off the top of the stack and flipping it over. And immediately he regretted that decision. The cover was…certainly something.

A shirtless man holding a rather skimpily dressed woman up against a wall. 

Azriel let out a long, long sigh.

*You need to read the books, Master,* the shadows told him seriously.

Azriel stared at his shadows, then at the books, then at his shadows. *You cannot possibly be serious.* What exactly was this supposed to give him? 

He flipped it over, reading the synopsis. 

When Lady Eleanor is forced into an unwanted marriage, she despairs—until the enigmatic Sir Tristan, a battle-scarred knight with a fearsome reputation, crashes into her life. Bound by a promise to protect her, Tristan whisks Eleanor away from her gilded prison, thrusting them into a wild escape across enemy lands.

Haunted by his past and wary of love, Tristan tries to keep Eleanor at arm's length. But as they face danger together, a fierce passion grows between them, tempting them to trust in a love that could heal even the deepest wounds.

What the fuck. 

*We are, Master.* The Shadows told him, sounding as earnest as they possibly could.

He opened the book. Titled The Dark Knight’s Desire, flicking through the pages. Was this…a first edition?

*It’s important!* The shadows insisted. *You know…to brush up on these flirting skills of yours.*

Azriel shot the shadows an unamused look. *I can flirt perfectly well,* he protested.

*You most certainly cannot.* The Shadows deadpanned. *It’s research! Read them for her!*

*Read them for…* Azriel started, his voice trailing off.

*You found...* he trailed off weakly. They had found a female for him?

The shadows swirled around him almost playfully. *Of course we did,* they said innocently. *We told you we would, didn’t we?*

They were working quickly. It had only been weeks since he had agreed to let them find him a wife.

*You did,* Azriel said slowly, but his mind was working fast, so fast, trying to wrap around the idea that his Shadows were trying to help him find a wife…and more importantly, that they had found a female they thought he would find suitable.

*Where did you find her?* he asked, carefully.

*Here in Velaris!* the shadows answered brightly.

*Here?* Azriel asked, his surprise obvious. The shadows had found...a female...here in Velaris? Someone who was compatible with him? And they wanted him to read...what were these again? Sellyn Drake novels? So he would know how to best romance this female?

*Read the books, Master,* the shadows said with a sigh. So he did.

And that was how Azriel spent his next few hours. Reading a book, and blushing like some sort of adolescent boy when certain…particularly intimate scenes came around. The Shadows cackled beside him the entire time.

How the fuck did Nesta do this with a straight face?!?

Azriel had no idea, but by the Mother, he was never going to ask her. Ever. He would just die of embarrassment.

Though he needed to admit...he actually quite liked it.

The novels, that is. The…intimate scenes. Azriel liked them. A lot. Not even the...smut, like Nesta called it...no, he liked the love story. He liked the two people that came together and would do everything for each other...the falling in love part. He liked that.

But the Shadows were probably never going to let him live this down. Azriel did find comfort in a single thought, though. Whoever this possible future partner was, she was never going to know about this. There was no way in hell he would let her find out that he read smutty books to brush up his flirting skills.

But even that did not stop the nagging thought in Azriel's head, one that made him hesitate, and doubt himself, and doubt the Shadows' judgment. "What if..." he said softly, hesitantly. "What if she just...doesn't like me?"

He knew he had some...rough edges, to put it kindly. And he had his own...troubles. His own...insecurities. Some of the things he kept to himself, so many of his...issues. The shadows knew of them all, of course…There were many nights they stayed up with him, soothing him when the ghosts in his mind became a little too loud, a little too real.

What if that scared her? He didn't want her to be scared. He didn't want to scare her.

*She'll like you, Master.* The Shadows assured him, wrapping themselves around him comfortingly and soothingly. *She’ll love you.*

He exhaled. *Can you read minds now?*

*Only yours,* the Shadows assured him. *But as long as you don't cheat on her with her sister, you'll be doing a better job than her ex-partners!*

What. 

"Are you seriously reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" Only 5 centuries of training kept him from flinching as he looked up to find Cassian in his doorway.

"Nesta said it was good," he shot back flatly, not hiding the book, because that would just give Cassian even more reason to tease him. 

"You...actually listen to Nesta's...book recommendations?" Cassian stared at him, as if he had grown a third head.

"She is intelligent, and she reads more than either of us," Azriel shot back, sharply. "So yes, if she says it's good, I'll try it."

Cassian gave a slight shake of his head, not believing what he was hearing. "You are…actually reading a Sellyn Drake novel?" He repeated as if he couldn't quite believe that Azriel was actually doing that.

"Yes," Azriel said, his words clipped. "You have a problem with that?"

Cassian just stared at him for a long moment before letting out a quiet laugh. "No, I just never thought I would actually see the day that you read a Sellyn Drake novel."

"Well, I like it," Azriel said evenly. "It’s very are well written."

"And smutty," Cassian said with a grin.

Azriel rolled his eyes. "It’s are more than just...smut, Cassian, It actually has a story, and good characters."

"Characters who can barely keep their hands off each other long enough to solve the mystery, you mean," Cassian drawled, but Azriel ignored him, flipping a page. 

."Have you ever actually read a Sellyn Drake novel, Cassian?" Azriel asked, shooting him a look. "Or do you simply judge by the covers?"

Cassian just grinned, clearly enjoying this conversation and how defensive Azriel had become. "The covers are pretty damn attractive though."

Azriel rolled his eyes at that comment, but didn't respond. Just looked back down at the book, completely ignoring his brother.

"Are you coming to dinner tonight?" Cassian asked him instead. 

"No," he answered flatly. He did really want to know how the book ended.

*We found a house! We can show it to you!* the shadows hissed at that moment. Huh.

"There is something that needs my attention," Azriel said simply.

Cassian gave him a searching look, a frown etched into his face, but Azriel simple met his gaze. 

"Az," Cassian said quietly. "Come on."

"I have something I need to do, Cassian." Azriel's voice was still flat, but more firm, a clear sign that he did not want any arguments.

"Az," Cassian said again, and this time, there was a small thread of pleading in his voice. "Just… come have dinner with us. Please. It'll be good for you."

Good? Good to sit at Rhys' table and be told to "behave"? Azriel would rather eat crushed glass than do that. Which was the reasons why he skipped out of them as often as he possible could.

He knew, he knew that Cassian was just looking out for him, but that didn't mean that he felt like he was obligated to go.

"I have something I need to do," he repeated, his voice even.

Cassian sighed. "You are so goddamn stubborn," he muttered, but he let the subject drop, clearly knowing that Azriel was not going to listen.

That evening, instead of sitting through that dinner, Azriel let the shadows swirl around him in excitement, tugging on his jacket, practically dragging him forward.

*It's a lovely house, Master!* they said as they wrapped him in their embrace.

He blinked twice as he rematerialised in front of a lake. Somehow not quite what he had expected. But then…then he saw the house.

Grey stone and wood and the biggest windows he had ever seen that promised an breathtaking view over the lake… and nobody around as far as he could see. He stared at the house, a brow raised. It was nice…very nice. A little too nice. Exactly too his taste.

Azriel turned towards the shadows as he raised another brow. *And how exactly did you…* he started with a huff. *You know what, nevermind.*

He could already hear the shadows saying that they asked for a favor in exchange. Or maybe they stole it.

The house was still nice though, perfect really. He just…didn't want to know what they had done to get it.

Azriel glanced towards the building again. He could almost picture himself in the space, walking around, just….simply existing. It was peaceful and quiet…and he would not be…disturbed or bothered.

He could see himself reading in front of the fireplace, looking out into the night sky through the large windows. 

Azriel walked towards the building, his fingers brushing over the wall. He could feel it already….he could already feel his muscles loosening, his shoulders lowering from their stiff position.

Home, he thought as stepped into the space, the shadows following after him as his lips tugged upwards.

Yes, he could already see himself calling it that. Home. He liked the ring of it. 

*You're welcome, Master,* the shadows said as they swirled around him, nuzzling him affectionately. They were happy for him, so very happy for him.

The living room was spacious, filled with  overstuffed couches and armchairs made for wings… the view indeed was spectacular. And one long uninterrupted wall was lined with tall, massive bookshelves.

It was perfect.

*Does she like books?* he couldn't help but ask.

*Yes, Master! She loves books!* The Shadows assured him in an excited chorus.

She liked to read. That was the first little tidbit of information he learned about her.

*Will you tell me something else about her?* he asked them softly, as he kept exploring the house.

*What do you want to know?* the shadows asked.

*Did her ex-partner really cheat on her with her sister?* he wondered aloud.

*Yes. They are engaged to be married now,* the shadows answered. *He's an asshole,* they muttered darkly.

Azriel couldn't help but give a nod in agreement. An ass was too kind. Whoever he was, he was more than that. Azriel hated him, whoever he was.

*Anything else?* he asked the shadows, curious, so damn curious, to know more about the female.

*She has a cat. His name is Hector. He may be the ugliest cat in existence,* the shadows said primly, *but she adores him.*

Not what he expected, but it was...sweet. It was kind. She had a pet cat. His lips tugged upwards into an involuntary smile.

*And...?* he trailed off, waiting for a response. He was greedy, so damn greedy for more, so greedy to get to know the female more. His curiosity about her had grown to a fever pitch, it seemed.

The Shadows hummed thoughtfully. *She is very, very kind, Master,* they finally said softly.

Those words caused Azriel's smile to go soft, so damn soft. His heart fluttered at the Shadows' words. She was kind. She was kind and she had a cat that she adored. Her ex was an ass who cheated on her. She read, liked books, which meant she was intelligent, and…

Was he getting excited about someone he had never even met?

*When...when can I meet her?* he asked softly.

*Soon,* the shadows promised. *She doesn't leave the house that often...*

Azriel's brows drew together at that. *Why not?* he asked quietly, not sure if he really wanted the answer to that question.

The Shadows hesitated for a moment before responding. *People...people aren't very nice to her,* they admitted slowly.

Azriel blinked, confused. People...weren't nice to her...? But…why? What was there not to be nice about? From what he had gleaned, she was kind, had a cat, was smart, and liked books. What was wrong with any of that? It didn't make any sense.

*Why?* he demanded shaprly.*Because people are idiots as usual,* the shadows snapped right back. *People aren't nice to you either.*

Azriel gave a small wince at that, the shadows words hitting him like a bucket of ice cold water. But they were right, people weren't all the nicest to him, either.

Still...he didn't like the idea of her being treated poorly. He wanted...Gods, the want was so strong, all of a sudden. The want to…to protect her. To guard her, and protect her. To keep her safe. To make sure she was alright.

*Tell me when she leaves her house,* he demanded.

For a moment he could swear the shadows were nearly frozen in place.

*Change of Plans. Put on a different shirt,* the shadows said quickly. Azriel just stared at them.

*A different shirt?* he asked. He didn't even have any clothing here! That was back at the House of Wind. But the shadows were clearly not taking no for an answer.

He batted away a tendril as it started to unbuckle his fighting leathers and did it himself, only for them to shove him into a shirt that was so dark green it was nearly black and then start fussing with his hair.

Azriel barely had time to even process what was happening before the shadows were pushing him towards the door, still trying to fix and smooth his hair and clothes as they moved forward.

*What is the change of plan?* he asked them

*You are getting to see her right now,* the shadows said with a hint of glee to their voice. *Her sister and some friends are taking her to a bar.*

*The same sister that cheated on her with her ex-partner?* he demanded.

*Yes,* the shadows agreed in a hiss. 

Great. So he was going to have to stop a fight from happening, all while trying to meet the female he apparently was connected to? That was a...recipe for disaster right there..

*She'll be at the Crystal Drop* the shadows informed him, and his heart gave a strange little clench at those words. He was...he was actually going to get to meet her. Tonight.

The feeling of excitement was back, rushing through him like a wildfire. But there was also a hint of trepidation, a hint of nervousness. What if he screwed it all up? What if he messed things up? His stomach was suddenly full of butterflies.

Azriel didn't have time to dwell on those thoughts, though, as the shadows gave him a little nudge forward again, all but forcing him to start moving towards the tavern.

He could see it in the distance, the sign proclaiming it as “Crystal Drop”. It...it was right there. She was there... 

Taking a deep breath, he headed towards the bar, his heart pounding in his chest with every step that he took closer to the entrance. Gods, his hands were shaking. 

He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he was

He entered the tavern, and his eyes automatically went to the crowd, searching for...something.

The shadows let him towards a place in a corner where he could view the whole bar and he ordered a single fireale, because he was not getting drunk. He wanted his wits about him when he met her. 

But right now…right now, Azriel settled in to watch.

He watched the crowd, his eyes roving around, searching the whole tavern once again. He just wanted to know where the group was. He wanted to know where...she was.

*Do you see her, Master?* the shadows asked him, nearly teasingly.

*I have absolutely no clue how she looks, so how should I?* he gave back in a growl. The door opened and he watched as a group of females poured in...and then right there at the edges of that group...

His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell on her, and...oh.

Between one blink and the next everything changed. A golden bond unfurled in his chest, connecting him to her.

Her.

He knew it.

She was his mate.

Mine. He whispered in his head, barely more than a thought. He knew it with every fiber of his being, every part of his heart.

He took her in hungrily. 

She was so beautiful. So, so beautiful. Azriel had to physically restrain himself from going over to her right then and there. 

He could hardly breathe. He couldn't form a coherent thought. His whole world had suddenly narrowed to the sight in front of her. His mate.

*Master?* There was alarm in the shadows voices as his breathing became near erratic.

*She's...You found my mate,* he said weakly.

The shadows hummed in confirmation and his eyes were glued to her still, drinking her in. She had long brown hair with soft curls, falling over back, bangs framing a rounded face with high cheekbones and plump cheeks...full rosy lips too and adorable freckles dotting over her nose...

She was the most beautiful being he had ever seen.  She was simply...stunning. 

And mine, he thought to himself. She was his. She was his mate.

He didn't even look at the rest of the group. Just focused on the one...the one who was at the edge of the group, seemingly trying to vanish, to become invisible. 

Even from the distance, Azriel could see the tension in his mate’s form. He frowned slightly at that. He didn't like it, seeing her like that.

He...his instincts were starting to kick in, a soft, protective urge rising up in him. He wanted to go to her, to...to stand by her side and ease away whatever was bothering her. But he stayed rooted to the spot, just...just watching her. Just watching his mate, the sight of her soothing every single little part of him until he felt warm all over.

He let the group settle at a table a few feet away from him, forcing himself to look down on the bottle in front of him and not stare at his mate like a total creep.

If he strained his ears, he could hear the whole conversation. Apparently it was his mate’s sisters Hen Party, the kind of celebration that some High Fae Females had before they got married.

Nice. Why not bring along your sister, when you were engaged to the guy that cheated with you on said sister?

The fact that his mate even came along into this bar that evening was probably a sign of how fucking nice she was. And Gods...no wonder his mate was so anxious...this whole thing was just...a disaster waiting to happen.

He glanced towards the group again, his attention once again immediately falling on his mate. He could see it, the small twitch of her fingers, the tightening of her lips...the small little things, and he felt his heart wrench at the sight.

She didn't talk. She was just sitting there silently, while the other females had a raucous conversation, that she wasn't part of. It made him bristle.

He didn't understand why they were doing that, why she wasn't a part of the conversation. She was right there. But they weren't listening, they weren't noticing her...or maybe they were ignoring her on purpose.

He...he didn't like it. He didn’t like it at all.  

Just minutes later, Azriel realised that he should have wished that they kept ignoring her.

Because Azriel was quite certain that he was going to slit his mate's sister's throat with Truthteller if she said one more word. 

The blonde, her sister, stared at his mate and this time a sharp, nasty smile curled on her lips. "Oh, what's the matter, little sister? Mad that I nabbed the male you were going to marry?" she taunted with a malicious grin. "I guess he just liked me better."

Azriel was so shocked that he could just sit there, staring. 

The other females laughed as the blonde continued, her lips curled in a sneer. "You should be happy for me, really," she said, her voice sugary sweet. "After all, you could never keep him happy. You've always been useless, haven't you?"

The comments made Azriel see red. What the hell was wrong with this female? Who treated their own sister like this? 

He had half a mind to go over there and wring her neck. 

*Don’t,* his shadows hissed. *You’ll make it worse.*

*Make it worse?! It can’t fucking get worse!* he hissed back. 

He itched to go over to the group, to protect his mate from these cruel, cruel words. 

*Yes, it can,* the shadows snapped. *What do you want to do? Massacre her sister right in front of her?!* Azriel growled under his breath. 

*Normally you are much more bloodthirsty,* he complained to the shadows. 

*You are the fucking spymaster. Act like it,* the shadows snapped. *You want us to make her sister’s life a misery? We’ll do it. We’ll do it and it will never be traced back to you. Besides, she deserves worse than a quick death.*

He clenched his teeth. 

The other females were laughing, but his mate...wasn't. She wasn't saying a single word, wasn't defending herself, wasn't saying anything. Just...just sitting there and taking the horrible abuse with a neutral, blank expression on her face.

"Cat got your tongue?" her sister asked her with a roll of her eyes. "I mean, it's not like you're good at talking, are you?" she asked her with a cruel little laugh. "Too bad for you that males want females that are able to have a conversation, not awkward little things who can't even speak when spoken to."

Azriel's body tensed as he listened to the words, every muscle coiled tight. It took every ounce of his control not to stride over to the group of females and punch her sister straight in the face. The only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to protect his mate.

The comment clearly found it's target, Azriel could see his mate flinch at the words, her face crumbling momentarily before it smoothed over into a neutral expression again. Gods...it must've hurt so badly to hear her sister speak to her like that…

*We’ll ruin her fucking life,* he vowed to the shadows. 

*Agreed, Master.”

Her sister rolled her eyes another time. "Come on, let's go," she told the other females. "You have the bill, don't you, Skylar?"

The words made Azriel snap. So the sister hadn't intended to even pay for her drinks in the first place? It was…they had just used her, he realised suddenly. Used her for the first stop on their tavern tour, to pick up the drink tab…and that was all she was good for in their eyes…

It was...Azriel couldn't stand by and watch this anymore, it made him so angry. So fucking furious.

"Ye...yes," his mate stuttered.

She looked so small in that moment, her eyes averted, her shoulders slumped, her hands trembling. She looked...wounded, so hurt, and Azriel was...he was sick of seeing her just accept this verbal abuse without a word. 

They left. They should thank the cauldron that they left at that moment, because otherwise Azriel would have made Cassian at his worst look like a puppy.

He wanted to storm after them, to give every single person in the group a piece of his mind, but that could wait. The most important thing right now was his mate. She was still here, after all. Azriel took a deep breath, and slowly, almost hesitantly walked towards her.

He watched as she didn't move, and he finally decided to speak, his voice a low, soft murmur. "Mind if I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the chair beside her.

Her head turned, and he felt his heart stop as her eyes met his for the first time. Up close, her eyes were...mesmerizing. A deep, sparkling blue, framed by long, lush eyelashes. He couldn't look away from her.

And she stared at him, her mouth slightly open, her eyes near comically wide.

He gave her a soft, slow smile. "Hi," he greeted her, his voice gentle. She blinked a few times, still staring at him, and he found it so cute, how shocked she was that he was talking to her. 

Her mouth opened but no words came out. She was staring at him like a poor bunny rabbit would at an apex predator , caught in his grasp.

For just a moment her scent went utterly haywire.

Caramel and Hazelnuts. So sugary sweet that he would have gladly rolled around in it. And she just stared at him, wide eyed, silent...until suddenly the scent changed to incadescent happiness.

"Oh." A small sound escaped her as she swallowed.

And he knew. He knew at that moment that the bond had just snapped for her.

[frankiepie]

Why doesn't anyone tell you that the most painstaking part of writing a story is having well-thought-out characters

[starstruckkittensweets]

Summary: An accidental run-in with one of Japan's most-wanted villains leaves you yearning for more; unfortunately, you're not the only one with a blooming fascination to hide.

Fandom: My Hero Academia AU: Canon Divergent Pairing: Dabi | Touya Todoroki x Reader Rated: E (explicit) Content Warning: spoilers for Season 6, blood and violence, arson, stalking, explicit language, slow burn romance (mutually obsessive but actual romance comes later on), eventual smut, dubcon, cat-and-mouse game, borderline yandere behavior from both parties, alcohol consumption, smoking, unhealthy attachment issues from both Dabi and Reader, past familial abuse, both of them are kinda fucked up but oh well Additional Tags: female reader, heavily inspired by Haunting Adeline (that's a warning in and of itself), reader has a personality/slight backstory (originally from overseas, home country not specified), additional OCs included, reader is a writer (shocker) so prepare for a lot of useless writing metaphors and sad feelings

Disclaimer: This story is incredibly personal to me; it's one of my comfort fics, the one I can turn to when I'm feeling down, the one I can just turn my brain off and not worry about heavy plotlines and tiny details. I read an unhealthy amount of smutty books over the summer (*cough* reverse harem stories *cough*) and channeled those h-word thoughts and secret fantasies into this story. Please heed the warnings above and included in each chapter, and I hope you enjoy the ride :)

chapter one - 6.2k words

chapter two - 5.6k words

chapter three - coming soon

[hurt-over-comfort]

Story & OC introduction!

Hello! So, after far too long of a wait, I have finished this OC introduction post! 

In the future I’ll think about how to organize this better, maybe as a google docs or maybe as a separate website, but for now this is as good as I can make it. 

It might be quite long given the sheer amount of OC’s introduced so I kept the descriptions to a minimum - I’d love to expand on that later once I decide what’s the best way to do it. Also, all asks about characters and the stories are super welcome! I love talking about my blorbos.

This post focuses on introducing one of my two main stories and their casts, but all of these characters exist through different AUs. I will share more details about the second story soon, I haven't finished writing descriptions for that one yet : (

“JOINT VENTURE” AKA COLLEGE AU

My main squeeze, the story I think about most often and what I consider the ‘baseline’ for the character’s personalities. It's definitely a whumpy story, but I doesn't focus exclusively on whump.

In short, it’s a story of the destructive relationship between two college students and how their decision to partner up and make some cash haunts them. A story about addiction, desperation, control and loss of it, of all encompassing love and betrayal. It’s doomed, it’s tragic, it’s abusive, it’s gay!!! Content warnings for the story: sadism&masochism, torture, noncon.

I’d love to elaborate, but to not make this post any longer than it needs to be, here are the featured characters!

1. ALBERT

My main guy, nr one little guy inside my head. I love my Oc’s equally, except for Albert, whom I love the most. (I also hate him the most, so it equalizes.)

Albert is a rich kid fuck boy who everyone only pretends to like. He’s a rather bright chem-engineering student who spends most of his time getting drunk, high and having lots of party sex. It seems like life handed him a golden ticket - good looks, filthy rich parents, great education - and maybe that’s why he started acting out, because it all was going too well. And now it’s harder to pretend that everything is great, which makes him try even harder, become faker.

The only person who truly sees through him is Cedric and maybe that’s why he hates him so much. Only sometimes, he doesn’t hate him - sometimes he feels a wild yearning for any shred of Cedric’s validation or affection, and he buries that feeling so deeply that he’s not aware it’s even happening. He prefers denial - denial that everything is amazing, that he didn’t fuck up his life entirely, that Cedric is no one to him. It works until it doesn’t and for these times even the usual vices don’t stop him from spiraling. He hates it, or maybe he doesn’t, it’s hard to tell - He’s so dangerously masochistic that he might just be in love with being miserable.

2. CEDRIC

(OC of the lovely @whmp)

Albert’s roommate and the absolute bane of his existence. The person who hates him the most and conversely the only one that can put up with his antics. He’s spent so much time trying and failing to get away from Albert that now he just accepts him as any other inevitability of life. Vaguely aware of Albert’s feelings toward him and even less aware of his own feelings for him. 

A major control freak about everything in his life, from academics to personal relationships. Will claim he just want to be left alone but will get lonely if that actually happens. He’s aloof and quiet with a tendency to be outright mean and sarcastic when in a bad mood, sees people mostly as noisy distractions. Annoyingly aware of his own intelligence, definitely thinks he’s better than other people. In between studying and dealing with Albert he has a little business on the side - synthesizing drugs. 

3. NICKY

Cedric’s sweet boyfriend, a chronically online liberal arts major and Albert’s number one secret hater. He’s not the smartest, but he makes it up with his enthusiasm and a general aura of positivity. Will make you a delicious meal if asked, but will also go on twitter and argue for hours about the stupidest, most inconsequential things. In between watching anime and romanticizing every aspect of his life he loves to game with Cedric’s weirdo friend, Leo. 

4. LEO

(Also OC of @whmp)

An absolute social reject shut-in loser who spends most of his days browsing very questionable websites and forums. Doesn’t mind people, but doesn’t like them either - he’s so apathetic it’s hard to make him care about anything, really. That includes being likable, so he never tries to cover up his nature (he sees any relationship as a transaction anyway). Not hard to get along with if you can stand him, but you probably shouldn’t try because he’s not a good person. Not so secretly sadistic - maybe he loves it so much because violence and abuse is one of the only things that can make him feel anything. Awkward most of the time, especially for those incredibly rare times where he feels any attachment to a person. Stay away at all cost.

5. DARCY 

A wicked demon in the vague shape of a man (metaphorically). There is little humanity left in him, or maybe there was none there to begin with. Bastard son of a prominent cartel leader with high ambitions how to run things and 0 actual leadership power. He’s the clean up guy, tasked with disappearing the people that the cartel doesn’t need anymore. And before he buries them in the desert somewhere, why shouldn’t he have some fun with them? They can have a lovely evening or two and when whatever is left of them is dropped into a shallow grave Darcy will have already moved on. 

6. CECILE 

Albert’s accomplished older sister. They talk sometimes, and she worries about him a lot, but their relationship is rather strained. Her life is a constant juggle between her demanding job and family life, and maybe if she keeps it up she’ll have no time to think about the life she could have had. About the people she had lost. 

7. WILLOW

Willow used to be a best friend of Cecile back when they were younger. They’d sneak off at night and go onto the grassy fields, setting up a picnic to enjoy it just as the sun rises. They’d talk for hours while laying on their back and staring at the sky, hands so close their fingers could touch if any of them would be a little braver. They were close and wanted to be so, so much closer, but you can’t get everything you want in life, right?

---

That's it for now! Very excited to be sharing all of this with you! The picrew used is the amazing sushicore!

Here is also a little sneak peek at some of the characters of my second story while I work on writing descriptions for them!

[cuephrase]

10, 11, 12, 13, 17, 25, 26, 27, and 28 for the comics ask game! (feel free to break up or just the ones you want to)

coming from this ask game

i'm going to skip 26 + 27 because when i tried to do it i realized a) certain art styles have grown on me and b) i was hard-pressed to find a comic that fit bc i don't collect books i don't enjoy, unless i'm getting it purely for the variant cover...at which point i like neither the writing nor the interior art lmao. sorry!!

10. The prettiest cover

from top to bottom, left to right Red Hood: Outlaw (2016) #27, Batman (2016) #150, Tim Drake: Robin #10, Nightwing (2016) #94

-est's are sooooo hard for me, and i'm so indecisive, and there's so many art styles...so i picked these four lmao. i have so many pretty covers okay, i tried.

this picture does not do it justice, but the red hood issue is foiled and i just love it. foil is fun in general, but i feel like it makes the blood more...bloody? wow i'm so eloquent. IT'S COOL IMO OKAY. not that this is shocking to anyone, but i am v obsessed with pink...the batman cover is pink. but also!! bruce is smiling. and the motion of the cape feels so lush. it just makes me happy. um. so. the tim cover. listen. the color palette is pretty, i love the early dawn + his bright colors. also. he's pretty. NEXT. i adore this nightwing cover. it's so soft, like it kinda looks like it was done with, crap idk my art mediums, oil pastels? the texture is so smooth. plus, i love like the scene and all the details, like it's just so satisfying.

i'm realizing i may have defined 'prettiest' strangely. oh well.

11. The ugliest cover

Teen Titans (2011) #18

ngl i probably have uglier covers but like WTF why does his face look like that. (the struggle here was that i either buy covers i like or the cover is completely irrelevant, so then i was neutral about like...pretty much every book i bought for content not cover lmao.)

12. Your favorite comic you have

Robin (1993) #10, 13, 46, 156

just for you, i did the tim drake edition version of this question hehe. hang on, lemme compose myself so i can be mostly normal about these comics. *muffled screaming* alright!!

first!! ROBIN!DICK AN ROBIN!TIM ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! with jason-haunting-the-narrative angst?! to die for. then we have tim being robin to dick's batman, so fun, with a healthy serving of bruce and dick angst and they actually communicate a bit. so frickin good. i've talked before about how much i love love love #46, and that has not changed- i revisted it recently and *oh my godddddd*. tim struggling with robin vs. tim drake, and then utterly failing despite his best efforts when he was already questioning if he even makes a difference? fuck yes. sorry. and then!! super-depressed!timbo talking a would-be jumper into not jumping and then calling dick? words cannot express the sheer !!!!!!!!!!!!!! i feel about these issues. this is me trying to be normal about them, that's how bad it is. as with the previous answer to 12, i have pages of these comics eternally memorized.

13. Your least favorite comic you have (and why you originally grabbed it!)

Red Hood: The Hill

allow me to explain my comic buying method. first of all, i try to buy only comics i've read + liked, unless i like the cover or it's a current release. so this is a little bit recency bias, but also current stuff is pretty much the only thing i'll be buying blind for the story itself.

i picked up this mini bc it was marketed as a jason run. HA. you could completely cut him from the story and like. so little would change. his only relevance was marketing. the story itself was also like, super boring to me, but in the spirit of fairness + acknowledging bias, i was enticed by a jason story and not given one. so. if i'd come to the run expecting an oc + batman i might've had a very different experience.

if this had been out on dcui, i would not have picked this run up. maybe the dan mora covers if i saw them when digging through boxes. but purely for the covers.

17. comic you picked up just for the cover art

Batman (2016) #50, Nightwing #81, Task Force Z #8, Robins #3

have not read the issue yet, bc i have not kicked off my Big Batman Read Through, but i am fairly certain it will upset me when i get to it lmao. i have a soft spot for sketch covers, i think they're so neat. plus this one is so evocative. technically, the nightwing cover may not count bc i'm sort of collecting all of nightwing, but at the time i bought it purely for the cover. the graffiti is fun, dick + tim + milkshakes = cute!! i enjoyed task force z, but not enough to buy the run, however when i saw this cover i had to get it. idk how to express it but the composition tickles my brain in the best way. ugh so cool. MARCUS TO TIM?!?!?! HELLO?! WHAT MORE NEED I SAY?!

25. The comic with the coolest variant cover

Nightwing (2016) #107, Red Hood: Outlaw #35, Batman and Robin (2023) #1, Tim Drake: Robin #2

i do not yet have the comic(s) with the coolest variant covers i want, so i decided to do a cover for each robin! dammit tim and damian are in the wrong order. dick through the ages by dan mora? amazing. just. so cool. so fun. enjoy the atmosphere on the red hood one + his reflection being in a puddle of blood, very classy. dami and bruce just look so 🥹🥹🥹. love the lighting/composition. and now is when i joke that i almost just did all the dan mora tribute covers lmao. very much love them all, but the dick and tim cover is my fave. like. it's just so sweet. the brothers. the homage. the !!!!!!!!!! of it all. gah i love them sm fr

28. A run you have completely collected (trades, singles, or mix!)

Red Robin (2009)

it has literally just occured to me that i could have also done TT's nightwing run but...eh. much prouder of this!! this is the first run/title that i decided to collect completely and it was so much fun hunting the issues down. man, i felt so accomplished when i brought #25 home. and i got it for a steal too, so like bonus happy points 💅🏼

brief story time, so i picked this up fairly early on into my comics collecting when i was really trying to be very, very selective. i think i maybe was looking specifically for #17, where bruce is back and tim gets a hug, and the vendor had that one + a bunch of others and i was geeking out a little bit showing diff panels to my spouse and they were like, "so we're getting them all, cool." "no, it's fine-" "dude. your whole face is so lit up right now." i lost (won?) that argument. it is still so mind-blowing to me how supportive they are of the things that bring me joy. completely antithetical to my upbringing. anyways!! so yeah, this is also the run that spurred me to collect the way i do today. i tried to be more restrained. i was ✨enabled✨

tysm for the ask!! i had such a blast answering, i hope you enjoy the answers!!

[salubriwrites-blog]

A Weird Dive into my favorite ships

This started as an answer to an anonymous question but... it grew a little bit. I have no forward except to please drink water today! Love you!!!!

I'm actually pretty new still to writing fanfiction. I've been an avid writer since I was 10 and was even working on getting my own book published. From there I springboarded into TTRPG design where I wrote world building, lore, and characters for IPs like Call of Cthulhu and Vampire: The Masquerade. I only really just got into writing *fan fiction* in the last 2 years.

My first fanfic/ship was actually pretty silly. I was on the Encanto hype train when that movie first came out (can you believe its been 3 years???) and I loved, loved, loved Bruno Madrigal. He was the traumatized, distraught uncle living in the walls of Casita trying to fix the internal damage that came from Abuela's treatment of La Familia. His intentions were pure, and he obviously had gone through a lot to drive him to the point where we see him in the story. This was the first branch I would hit falling down the "I can fix them" tree.

The story is cute and has a happy ending, but as we all know in the real world, unlearning toxic behavior and overcoming life long trauma takes time. So I wrote a BrunoxOC story about it. I ended up orphaning it because I veered the story off in a direction I didn't like because the group I was part of were heavily influencing my creative choices. Boo, hiss I know, but I was still pretty new within the fanfiction genre so I buckled.

Moving on!

My second fiction that I put a lot more love into - sorta I may go back and rewrite parts of it now - was my YorickxOC fiction.

Yorick was my first ever League of Legends love. Fucking love that haunted beef cake. The Ruined Event did him dirty, the Ruined King Game did him dirty, and the book probably did him dirty too (I haven't read it). My Gravekeeper needs ALL THE LOVE because he is absolutely going through it in sheer solitude (though the Illaoi story where he goes to help destroy Viego's amulet gave me hope that now he gets visitors sometime on the island).

Remember Yorick Mori: Before the Ruination This was my first completed and quite hefty fiction weighing in at 153k words: it followed his story where he starts out on a lonely little fishing island called Portia (it doesn't have a name in Lore). He ends up on a slightly busier island that is situated off the coast of Helia (Blessed Isles capitol) and begins his journey to understand why he can communicate with the Dead. He meets a cast of charming monks that want to both see him thrive and maintain status quo. He even meets the owner of the bakery that barters with the Order of Dusk - whom he naturally falls in love with immediately. Rosalie McKahn is not a self insert. I don't make self inserts when I write OCs because I hold myself to a weird standard - also I don't see myself being compatible with most of these characters. Would I still like them to do unspeakable things to me? Oh shit yes. But from a story standpoint, I don't do self inserts. So Rosalie was not one of those. The story follows a young Yorick through his years of servitude to the Order of Dusk, uncovering dark secrets, finding confidence to become the man that he will need to be when the Ruination comes. Rosalie was not the only person who helped to build Yorick up in this story, but their love is what gives him the strength to keep fighting when the rest of it was bleak. This love eventually passes on to the Maiden of the Mist in the epilogue I have yet to write ^^;.

Then we got into the Heartsteel arc, and this was where I really found my love for the "I can fix them" dynamics. I have no shame in saying that I wrote all of "Making of Paranoia: Off Script" in a week's time while the music video played on a loop on my second monitor. I'm just not. That was where the neurons wanted me to go, and off I fucking went. I knew I liked Aphelios when he first debuted in League, but I was scared of him because he's an ADC with 5 guns. Skill Expression was not something I was confident enough in to pursue that character. But he was hot! He ha a backstory that excited me and had a lot of potential. I really wanted to explore Aphelios' dynamic with his sister and the Lunari elders - pigeon holing him into being a weapon of faith only.

I also knew I liked Yone, but was fearful of him for similar reasons. In the end I just nutted up, typed /mute all in game chat, and hit my head against the wall until I got M7 on Yone. His story is by far my favorite of all the League characters (rivaling Yorick's, of course). A man who spent his whole, short life trying to save someone who he thought was in danger of falling off the path of virtue? Only to come back and KEEP DOING IT but with extra steps??? WAITER ANOTHER PLEASE.

But I didn't really anticipate putting these two characters together within the canon sense. I didn't see a way that they could meet (though one of my friends has since written a beautiful fiction where it shows how they do meet, and how they do connect! https://archiveofourown.org/works/52384363/chapters/132517315 )

BUT THEN. BUT THEEEEN.

I was watching Paranoia for the 69th time that day and I saw THIS VERY SPECIFIC CLIP where the only person who looked the most remote bit of concern for Aphelios' well being was YONE. Boom, Off Script was born.

Off Script was definitely the first FanFiction where I really jumped into my current dynamic. It follows after the filming of that day, cut short after Aphelios fell into a water tank with one of the drones. Yone is going to check on him, and Aphelios is lamenting that no one else has come to see if he's alright. Not even his boyfriend, Sett.

This infuriates Yone because that's just not good boyfriend behavior, and he promises Aphelios that - should he be given the chance - Yone would treat him 10x better than Sett has, is, or ever will.

Also who wouldn't want to be treated like a princess by this specimen? Let's not fool ourselves. Anyway - Paranoia gave me a chance to explore this dynamic in a new way. Yone had issues of his own - I had to find a way to implement his Arzakana nature into a modern AU so I opted for "intrusive thoughts" that encouraged him to do some generally not nice things. In Yone's backstory he was a toxic person, used people up, whored his way through most of his opportunities, and was a bad brother to Yasuo. Yone initially followed Yasuo into the music making industry because he wanted to help his baby brother succeed - and he didn't really know what he wanted to do with his own life. Yone then got it into his head that maybe he and his brother could make music TOGETHER. Yasuo didn't want that because True Damage was doing it's own thing and - for just once in his life - he wanted something that only he had made, not with his older brother. Yone takes his poorly, and being the toxic brother that he is, makes a scene at an industry party and gets booted out. Yasuo cuts him out of his life. On his drunken, staggering tirade through the streets of Valoran City, Yone gets into an accident. He dies. But then suddenly gets resuscitated! I'm not a doctor so I just literally chalk it up to a freak accident that Yone comes back. While Yone believes that it's a second chance. He wakes up in the coroner's office in a cooler, and bangs and screams at the door the whole night until the coroner ME comes in the next morning to fetch the John Doe. Yone doesn't know who he is anymore, but he knows he can't be the asshole now cause that's what got him killed. So he spends time reflecting, soul searching. He knows he still loves making music, and though he gets a desk job and lives this semi-stable life, he still dreams of making music.

Enter Heartsteel.

Aphelios' twin sister is already a multi-platinum artist who runs her own record label - Lunari Studios. Aphelios is on the other side of the story - he's just kind of following Alune around and standing back as she shines. He knows he's talented - he knows a million instruments and helps Alune with her production, but he doesn't think that he could do it all by himself. When he and Sett start dating, it's more of the same. Sett is big and loud, people are drawn to him and his style, and it gives Aphelios someone to latch onto that isn't his sister for once. In Off Script, Aphelios' fate would have been the silent lyricist and musician for the band. He would have told himself that he was happy with standing back.

Except after the events of the music video, Yone won't let him. Yone encourages him to sing, to write bolder lyrics, to voice his opinion. Yone helps Aphelios find confidence, and in return Aphelios lets Yone help him. All Yone really ever wants in any AU is to help, but helpful people can be toxic too. Aphelios allows Yone to do that, but with his own confidence can help draw boundaries on when Yone is being too supportive, or investing too much of his own energy. In the Heartsteel AU I wrote, they are happy together ^^

I finished Off Script around the time of Worlds 2023. Which was when they announced my Babygirl!

And boy what a journey THIS CHARACTER HAS BEEN.

Hwei has it all. The trauma, the growth, the setbacks, the hips, the style, the potential. Surprisingly though - I am not a huge fan of the JhinHwei ship. Maybe cause I see too much of myself and who I used to be in its dynamic. I've been both of those characters in my past relationships, but this isn't the place for that kind of deep dive.

Hwei is neat because he introduced a new idea to my ship dynamic. He's not broken, just lost. He's looking for himself and every person he meets is just a stepping stone on his journey to peace of mind.

I wouldn't call Hwei self assured, because he doesn't know who he wants or what he wants to be, but he knows he has all the tools to reach that end. I like shipping him with multiple characters with Hwei in different stages of his self-realization because he is an inspiring character. He can terrify and and awe in the same breath, depending on which version of him we're visiting.

For this last one we're departing League completely.

I got into HSR after Genshin got a little stale for me. Also I got a fancy new phone that I could actually play Hoyo games on, and HSR is the best for mobile play.

I got into HSR in the middle of the Penacony story, but my friends warned me that I'd love Aventurine when I met him. I spoiled myself by looking at pictures of him and OOH BABY

You can fit so much trauma in this baby.

Aventurine is another fun one because yes - he has a tragic fucking story and I would single handedly help him repopulate Sigonia if given the opportunity. But once again, Teeeechnically not broken.?? He has ghosts he faces throughout the story, and must address each aspect of himself before crossing the river, but by the time he's come out, I like to think he's at peace with who he had to become in order to survive. From fighting in pits, murdering his former owner, tricking the IPC, I don't think Kakavasha would have done any of that stuff. Aventurine, on the other hand-

It's a common theme when you are in survival mode because of trauma. Is he fully cured? Fuck no, but will he continue to strive to be the kind of person he wished would have saved him when he was a kid? Fuck yes.

Which is why we need to impregnate him.

My friends warned me I'd love Blade. I was determined to not, but then I went through the Jingliu story and learned about the High Cloud Quintet and it was over.

I just think this guy's hot. I know a lot of people ship him with Dan Feng and Jing Yuan (it's pretty hot, ngl), but I kinda like Blade/Kafka or Blade/Stelle. The Kafka angle is not so much romantic as it is a mutual understanding that they are both going down this journey together and it can get lonely sometime. So more convenience than romance.

I'm working on a Blade/Stelle story right now where - Best I Am, Prey You Become. It explores Stelle abandoning the trailblaze to join the Stellaron Hunters, and as part of her initiation Blade if voluntold by Kafka to train her. Their relationship is mentor/student and she is obviously hot for him, but Blade is an immortal, tired old man who doesn't have time for that. Except Elio has other plans, as Blade's script reaches a conclusion - he finds something worth dying for. When it comes to HSR Fanfictions I take a lot more creative liberty because I didn't follow the lore to the letter. Also I love world building so!!!! I also built Sigonia-IV for that story, I just gotta get the neurons to activate x.x

[four-color-words]

Bailey Adler - An Intro

((Notice: I wrote this while extremely goddamn sleepy, so if I need to elaborate or make something clearer or whatever, lemme know and I'll try my best after I get some sleep))

So, I try pretty hard to keep this sideblog restricted to canon-only stuff. But if I'm gonna start talking about my silly little fanfic on here, I ought to talk about the oc it centers around

Takeoff is the first arc of Bailey's story, and serves as her origin. The front half of it, I like to imagine, takes place in the background of a Flash comic. The back half of it, which I'm currently writing, is a backup or secondary story. Bailey's theoretical solo wouldn't start until she takes up the Golden Eagle mantle, passed down from Charley.

(fun fact: I came up with her around eight years ago, and she's actually what led me to learning about Charley -- but I decided it would be more fun (and achievable) to try and explain how and why Bales was inheriting a mantle, than trying to come up with a new, unused name for her)

Bailey's a complicated character, and it's hard to summarize all the stuff she's got going on. She's very emotionally-driven, and she wears her big bleeding heart on her sleeve. She doesn't exactly like this about herself, but she's been trying and failing to change this for two decades; it's in her nature. And, really, it's the fact that her emotions do run so deep and strong that leads to her becoming a superhero.

Bailey grew up in a small Oklahoma town, and as far as she's concerned, the less she has to talk about that, the better. She moved to Central City to try and not only start a new life, but to forget her old one. Helping her best friend with the rent was a bonus.

Unfortunately, the past won't let Bailey just walk away. Bailey lands a job at a local museum -- no, not that one -- just in time for a haunted suit of armor, a cold case disappearance, and a whole lot of mystery to cross her path. As secrets start to rise to the surface, Bailey finds her own family history might just be tangled up in this web. And untangling it all might mean facing the parts of her past -- and her relationship with her mother's side of the family -- that she really doesn't want to.

Bailey discovers her great-grandmother, Rachel Faulkner, was born Rashel Tavros, of Thanagar. And while this does explain a few things about Bailey's own life -- in particular, why she's always been stronger and tougher than she wants to admit, and why she's always overestimated other people's vision and hearing -- it also leaves her with a lot of questions, and a sense of duty she can't quite shake. She's forced to acknowledge that she's not a normal human. She has gifts and abilities that set her apart from the rest of the populace. She has power -- and we can all finish the old adage.

But she also made promises to her father and sister that, on some level, she feels like she's breaking if she starts being a superhero. Reconciling that and dealing with the guilt, however, are just things she's going to have to do. She does inherit the Golden Eagle mantle from Charley, though I won't say exactly how or why until after Takeoff's finale gets published. (because otherwise I'm not gonna ever write it)

A lot of Bailey's character and story revolve around the ideas of breaking out of cycles of abuse and neglect, what really defines a family, and a whole lot of stuff I'm struggling to put into words.

But while Bailey has, like, so much angst and emotional turmoil, she's also just a big ol' goober. She talks to random pigeons and sings along to the radio while she does chores. She gives her friends stupid nicknames as a form of affection. She offers the neighbor kid cookies because she baked too many at three am, and then realizes how fucking weird that is as a complete stranger. She flirts with people and then freezes like a deer in the headlights when they flirt back. She spent the first twenty-ish years of her life dreaming of being Space Indianna Jones. She's a history and literature nerd, and she will infodump at you about the similarities between art movements across three different planets.

She's a giant dork, and I love her

[foxytonic]

New Pinned Post!

Howdy! I'm Jay! (she/they, 29, genderfluid, bisexual) This is my main blog, where you'll find fandom content, shiny rocks, spooky shit, funny stories (usually by other people), and whatever else catches my fancy. I run a shit-ton of RP blogs, but only a few of them are active at any given time. I also have a writing blog and an RP meme blog that I occasionally update. Outside of Tumblr, I have a full time job at a fast food joint (hate with a burning passion), and I play a lot of Dungeons & Dragons (love!!!), and I try to just live my life. I'm a disabled punk who's really tired of living in a Red State, but can't bring myself to leave because this is my home, and there are still plenty of good things about it, like roadrunners, armadillos, cacti, cave systems, and prairies! Wish I could get out and see more of it.

Some guidelines for following/interacting with me:

No bigotry of any kind. That means no racism, no homophobia, no antisemitism or religious discrimination, no TERF or radfem bullshit, no man-hater nonsense (even from so-called feminists), and no sexism. Don't like, don't follow. You whine about it, you get blocked instantly. I will not suffer hateful fools!

If you regularly post about politics, US or otherwise, please tag it. Same with the wars in Gaza and Ukraine. It's not that I don't care! I think it's shitty what's happening over there, and the fact that America is on the wrong side in what is essentially World War III is fucking disgusting, but I do not have the funds or mental capacity to donate to every fundraiser that shows up on my dash, and seeing people suffering and feeling guilty for not being able to help has made my depression a lot worse over the past year. This is the reason why I've shut off my inbox.

That being said, if you have questions or want to chat, my DMs are always open! It might take me hours to respond because of my work schedule, but I will at least try. I am a very awkward and shy person. It takes me a bit to start coming out of my shell, and even then, I tend to be a social chameleon, matching the energy and interests of those around me. It is extremely difficult for me to truly be myself around someone else. Please be patient with me.

I do have Discord! If you want it, you can always DM me, but I admit that it's no longer my preferred method of contact, unless you want to voice chat. I'll join a server if I'm invited to one that interests me, but I won't always be active. Something about large groups of people being intimidating even on the internet!

As I said, I run way too many RP blogs, and I'll list the active ones below, but if you want to play with them, either shoot me a DM or send in a starter or five. I'm not exclusive, but I do tend to follow my partners back. I'm fine with playing with Anons, too!

Active RP Blogs

@quaintnecromancer - Arguably my most active blog! Jett is my necromancer OC, and definitely my current favorite character to play.

@haunted-ex-rocket - My newest blog! Averis is a Pokémon OC based on my Pokémon GO! avatar, a rakish Ghost-type trainer from Kanto who used to work for Team Rocket but defected when he stumbled upon the Giovanni-funded Mewtwo Project.

@cursedphoenix - Another of my favorite OCs! Tancred is a witch who was afflicted with a sleeping curse after losing a duel to his evil mother. Over three hundred years later, he woke up, and is still trying to adjust to the modern world after decades of living in it. I used to write both him and Jett over on @covenunited , but that blog is no longer active due to loss of muse.

@feathers-n-fangs - Griffin is my vampire/warlock OC, and I love him a lot! He also has a Pokémon AU, among others.

@mage-of-black-robes - my Raistlin Majere RP blog!!! Heavily influenced by the Russian musical The Last Trial, but he also has a ton of AUs.

I’ll try to add more blogs to this list as I gain muse for them, but I make no guarantees.

[carmenized-onions]

as soon as i read the word ‘amish’ i physically recoiled because i just knew you would mess with my mental stability this chapter!

ignore how much of a shambles this is, i start off coherent but end up just making incomprehensible statements so don’t worry if you need help translating! i just wanted to make sure i gave you an idea of HOW FUCKING GOOD THIS WAS

i love the way you wrote this interaction, like i feel like it’s perfectly both average and extraordinary if that makes sense - which perfectly sets up what mikey and chips friendship was omg you are too good

of course he won’t let you have peace that’s literally a member of the berzatto family they haven’t known a moment of peace in their lives

MIKEYS ALWAYS SEEN YOU and fixer friend combo is insane don’t play with me

love me some divorce era richie angst

i’ve never heard the word jamoke before i had to google it is that so british of me

“you’re not gonna remember that” oh sweetie you will remember richie because i will make you remember

they are my fav comedic duo #guarddog vibes

a moment for the pork sandwich, and the yoink

i don’t want to go back to a time where mikey wasn’t there after reading this first section, like it’s too much

wait you giving me carmens pov of his worst friday ever is enough for me to slightly forgive you for mikey tb

random but i want to know what chips handwriting looks like - i know it’s a reader x carmy book but she’s basically an oc in my head now

no way chip is a youngest child wtf

no one gets being the guy like mikey and chip i fear

she keeps kid band aids in her wallet oh yes

YOU FUCKING TELL HIM carmy (im still mad at you btw)

her being mikeys sponsor i can’t i really cant do it

she quit being an emt for him

this is almost as painful as hearing him call her a failure

“im not a fucking patient chip” - oh you berzattos when you feel vulnerable

jazz hands away the awkwardness so real

never assume they are together ever ever

chip will not listen to people calling addicted junkies ever

the whimsy is gone

no.

get him syd go for the jugular

they’re multiplying DONT MAKE ME LAUGH NINE FAKS

eva’s richie she’s a little richie “insane uncle”

no … not the funeral … NOOOOO

she is a patoot!!!! she really is!!!!

performance anxiety… girl that’s your brother

it’s still michael’s office

richie the book nerd era

i took no notes after this as i was too upset!!! i’m sorry all i can say is it’s ur fault for being too good

IT’S THE FINAL ASK BEFORE WE UPLOAD NEXT CHAP BABY LETS FUCKING GO I DID IT I DID IT IN A NIGHT I’M GONNA BUY MYSELF LUNCH IN THE MORNING CAUSE I DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO MAKE ONE TONIGHT LMAO who wants to donate to my ko-fi kidding kidding kidding

I WAS SOOOO HOPING FOR THAT RECOIL. What I love about the “what are you amish” is that I don’t know if everyone remembered— But that story chip told was so specific and so immediately upon seeing amish which has only been used one other time, it IMMEDIATELY TRANSPORTS YOU AND I LOVE THAT. 

Thank you thank you thank you— Any thoughts are good thoughts and you’ve always sent the most wonderful analysis’ so to see you rendered kind of speechless really is a genuine tremendous honour so thank you I do appreciate i DO!

I absolutely wanted that like perfectly average yet extraordinary meeting— It’s like Tina and Mikey meeting to me— Or even honestly like, us as viewers meeting Mikey for the first time in his first scenes he actually speaks in— Those were genuinely so magical to me. It was like getting to meet the fucking wizard. Or the ghost that haunts us. Two things can be true. 

This family doesn’t know the WORD peace, they know the word piece. Like pieces? Is that what you ordered? Torn to pieces u say? FIXER FRIEENNDDDD!! I can’t believe Jamoke hadn’t made it across the pond until now. Happy to educate. Had to look up if Jamoke is used in chicago— A solid 5 articles came up so I think I’m good. 

Genuinely while writing everytime I had to switch I was like MOM DONT MAKE ME GO OVER THERE I HATE IT THERE!!! And then I’d get stuck in and have a lot of fun, and then I’d have to switch back, and the cycle would repeat. 

Ahhh Chip’s handwriting. What would it look like? I feel like it’s gotta be either really neat like wrote the most insane school notes in college with mildliners and everything or it’s literally fucking incoherent. Maybe both. When she’s got time it’s the first, when she doesn’t, it’s the second.

I WILL NOT TAKE YOUNGEST CHILD SLANDER ITS MY TURN ON THE XBOX I GET TO CHOOSE THE SIBLING DYNAMIC REPRESENTATION!!!! No one’s gonna ever get being the Guy like Chip and Mikey (and her child bandaids)

I should clarify also— Did Mikey’s OD act as the final nail in the coffin of quitting? A million times yes. Does Mikey think she abandoned the career for him? A million times yes. But she really WAS considering quitting already— SHE GETS TO MAKE THE CALL OF WHAT SHE BETS ON MIKEY YOU FUCKER !!!!

Berzattos when anyone tries to take care of them in any way: Oh so you think i’m fucking crazy? You think I need to be put in a ward? I’m going to prove you wrong by going ape shit right now.

Chip gets so defensive over Carmen sayin’ junkie ESPECIALLY because Mikey said it about himself!! To hear the brother that Mikey loved so much say that shit OH her blood was boiling. Jazz hands the pain away. Sydney get his ass. 

Faks are multiplying, Richie is multiplying with a little Eva— PEOPLE GET PERFORMANCE ANXIETY OVER A LOT OF THINGS— I GET PERFORMANCE ANXIETY WHEN I MAKE TUMBLR POSTS OKAY

I don’t honestly remember if I intentionally wrote it being ‘he goes back to Michael’s office’. I hope i did that intentionally because it’s fucking gutting. I also did forget they redid the office in S2— Which like. Why. Why are we spending any of the budget on anything not required. I dont. Gettit. Regardless, in CK, it’s absolutely the old shitty S1 office and i have NO intention of changing that. 

Thank you for these thoughts i would spend so much longer thanking you but we have to get thIS FUCKING CHAPTER OUT BECAUSE I WANT TO REREAD IT BEFORE BED THERES NO TIME I LOVE YOU LOVE YOU NEW CHAPTER IN LIKE 10 MINUTES OKAY PROBABLY LESS

[gaysonlyocean]

Speak my child. Speak your truth. (The OCs)

HEEHEE

so first off run down of my main oc stories, then the loose ocs i have running about

so! my main story out of everything is ashstone!! my silly lil metaphor for trauma and isolation i adore it so much, basically fucked up mountain based off the highlands and islands and everyones mentally ill on it And Good God There;s Beasts

next we have the one i havent worked on in a while cause i had to give it a major renovation and its. still unnamed sobs and goes by the working title "experiment gang" cause that was the joke name for the main characters but anyway five human experiment guys with superpowers become the worst found siblings ever and try to explode the government

and last main one rn is helmine!! fucked up selkie story cause i needed something more than ashstone to process some shit, a 23 year old selkie finds out ai is in fact a selkie and forces ais friends to come along on a murder quest to find ais sealskin, things go wrong!

NOW FOR LOOSE OCS I HAVE FLOATING IN MY BRAIN!!

one of my more iconic ones is lazarus, he DID have a story to go with him but i dont like it anymore, i still like him though

basically hes got a bunch of fucked up superpowers that genuinely hurt to use but he does it anyway even though hes been told not to

hes like 49 and hes a whore and keeps doing body horror shit unprompted for fun

been thinking about neopronounsing him but nothing quite feels like him

another fun oc i have a care about a lot is gwendolyn sloughton!! gwen for short, shes so fucked up

basically her whole thing is shes got some subconscious reality altering power, shes not even aware of it cause shes grown up with it, so like for example for her 12th birthday she Really wanted a dog but her parents couldnt afford one at the time but when she came home from school there was a dog waiting for her out of nowhere

unfortunately shes not a good person!! so it turned from innocent things to "i wonder what it would be like to watch someone get hit by a car" and shit, and low and behold it happens

she also kills people in her 20s cause she can get away with it due to this, its really fun to write especially cause other people around her can pick up on things being changed around her but she has no idea

MOVING ON FROM GWENS MURDER PALACE!!! we now have ribs my beloved

hes a werecrocodile!! and theyve kinda grown up completely feral in the middle of nowhere about it

also has a lot of scars and even missing half their left hand from doing crocodile things and fighting with others

hes another bitch who originally had a story but i dont remember anyones name in it but basically he accidentally got kidnapped and now theres a werecroc lost in the big city, surely nothing will go wrong

last one im thinking about rn is almyra!!

shes a funky lil sentient dimension that Believes shes the ghost of a woman who died in like 1904, in reality she was there before the woman [the real almyra] was even born its just when she was murdered things got worse

she thinks shes just haunting the house almyra died in, shes not, shes taken over a entire town and her reach is still growing

a lot of people go missing cause of her and she doesnt even realise it

[uniquezombiedestiny]

🖊?

oh hey. dusts this off. i have a new oc to write about :)

ive started playing fallen london recently so: say hi to maethyl fallow! a "devious and watchful individual of mysterious and indistinct gender." she also forgor (most of her lore is based around forgetting - her backstory is that she got lost in a cave of irrigo, an eldritch color that makes you forget when you look at it for too long.)

their story begins in fucking prison <3. all she knows is that her imprisonment is unjust - and, more importantly, inconvenient. so! they and an unlucky devil make their way out and become friends. she discovers that she's here in london for the wonder of the place - she has a lot to relearn, after all. on their escape, the devil leaves, but they're still friends :)

she decides to go to spite, one of four cities of fallen london. this is a place all about stealth, full of crime - mostly pickpocketing. they spend their first week or two here homeless and lost, doing both a lot of courier jobs and a lot of theft. i eventually learn how to travel (attributed to her memory loss of the world around her), and also get a home. yay!

after some mysterious communication with a benefactor, plus accessing the shops, she finally has better clothing than a prisoner's outfit. a maid outfit (and some shiny shoes!). this decreases their shadowy (stealth) stat but it was hilarious so i did it anyway

after some more stealing, a few courier jobs, and meeting a rat in her rented attic room, she makes her way to the carnival. she does just a little more theft, got her fortune read, and went to the mirror area. big mistake.

editing note: hey, this was right! she went on a journey to nightmare hell, and found plenty of mushrooms in her bath. the newspaper and poetry ones are kinda unknown, but the journalist storyline may fufill those.

for context: mae's discovered the joy of promenading - in the crowds of spite, a new location, you can go on trips and try stealing from various people. here, mae steals from a prison guard, gaining nightmares 1. she's also stabbed by jack for trying to steal from him (it was a like 20% chance), gaining wounds 2. hooray!

she looks into a mirror of nightmares, and upon looking closer due to the lack of a reflection, falls straight in. she is now in a world of madness, where all is red and gold and her nightmares increase to 8, described as "raving" (and right below "THEY'RE COMING THEY'RE COMING THEY'RE COMING," at 7).

bitch, you are trapped in the nightmare dimension.

anyway, it's like a hotel. they have rooms to stay, food and drink to serve, and other places for guests, reception, etc.. while mae has become paranoid, haunted by her nightmares in the form of encroaching mist in the corner of her eye, the guests are just as insane as she is. somehow, she cant help but find them welcoming, and has a few good interactions with some of them.

notably, without anything else to do (see: i was impatient), mae basically waterboarded herself for a day or two. you're able to drink from the fountain in the lobby if you like, which can decrease your nightmares stat. failing this will knock down your persuasion stat, though.

guess who reached 0 persuasion (but hey, nightmares 6!)?

after becoming a donkey a few times, she eventually stops waterboarding herself to find that she has forgotten how to speak and think properly, let alone eloquently. she does still converse with the guests a few times, but she's pretty much talking like a kid now.

during all of this, i also draw cards for some other interactions, among them being: met a white cat a few times, a lizard appeared in her room twice, fungal infestations in the bath, and the view outside her room being various things. she's been wanting to speak to the manager since day 1, damn it. and speaking of drawing, i also drew some art of maethyl gone mad!

although the guests (and water) are awfully convincing about how this place is better than fallen london - i mean, the red and gold is quite pretty, and the service is great, too - she eventually looks out of her window one last time before finding herself awake in her room. she's probably spent ~2 weeks in there. they are themselves again! as their nightmares stat dropped and mae became less paranoid, a melancholy took it's place, though (she just has melancholy 1).

well, on she goes. more promenading ensues, a few cards are drawn, and she regains some stats from the rat she talked to. she also befriends an urchin kid.

eventually, on intercepting courier routes, she snatches a brown letter containing blackmail on a journalist. he sells it for something more practical - the heartless route, where they gain 2 heartless (a quirk, similar to melancholy).

(steadfast is gained later - subtle is from drinking some healing stuff from a bottle and following the instructions exactly. this is what brought her wounds down to 1.)

later, she meets that same journalist, and does a few jobs for him with her stealthiness. she then tracks him down, growing suspicious, as his newspaper's never shown up anywhere, and what use does he have for the info she's getting? he's found doing some boring stuff, but she does overhear him at a bar, talking about his clients and other things, that basically proved mae right. she's then contacted by a different journalist for a different newspaper - she gets some findings, but what use do they have for this, either? in the end, she tracks both of them down to a fighting ring, where they laugh about their dimwitted employers... among other things (i forgor). she learns their secrets and plans to use the knowledge somehow, rather than blackmail them for money.

in the meantime, she's had a drink with someone, having a toast to the cheery man, ruthless but a man of his word. here is where she gains 2 steadfast!

she's currently area-diving, planning an escapade through the lower stairs for valuables. it's not done yet, though.

and that's all for her so far! personality-wise, they're quite eccentric, with a few friends both animal and human. they're outgoing and friendly (or at least polite), but their voice has an eerie quality to it that may turn some people away. they struggle with their words sometimes, too.

beyond that, though, she's quite stealthy, adjusting well to spite. she's even become a bit heartless, disconnected from those around her. honestly, that nightmare realm trip may have affected her more than it seems.

behind all of it, though, is... an odd melancholy. like the fog of her dreams that not even she can see through. perhaps it's something she's forgotten.

we all got that home with an indescribable sadness /ref

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.

“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile. 

Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"

Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.

Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.

Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.

Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.

Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females. 

And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.

He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it. 

Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp. 

Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend. 

It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better. 

"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.

Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."

"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.

Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?

Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.

And still, Azriel hadn’t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way. 

"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off. 

Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.

"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.

Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."

Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into. 

Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all. 

Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.

But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.

***

"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.

"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly. 

"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.

"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.

Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.” 

Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.

And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.

He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."

Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.

She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful

They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.

Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.

How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.

"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."

They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.

He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.

He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.

"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.

Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."

He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."

The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him

Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,”  he admitted.

It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either. 

Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.

Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.

He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.

The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.

"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.

Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."

"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.

"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."

"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.

"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."

She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?

She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.

He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.

Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.

For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.

She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.

"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.

Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.

"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."

Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.

*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*

Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further. 

"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."

Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.

"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.

*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*

Sky blushed at the compliment.

Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."

"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.

"Yes."

"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.

Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.

"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."

Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her

"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."

Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently. 

"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."

He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."

He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.

"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."

He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."

She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.

As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.

He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath. 

"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.

[thechaoscryptid]

👀👀 hello! Here to ask about Wake the White Wolf for the WIP name game 👀👀 is this about Kakashi?? Or Sakumo??? TELL ME MORE PLEASE 🥹

(curious about my WIPs?)

Also tagging in @mrssakurahatake, who also asked about WWW 🥹🥰

It is indeed about Kakashi! And, by subplot extension, Sakumo lmao. So Wake the White Wolf was a project I embarked on in late 2018 into early 2019, back in my KakaIru days. It's the longest fic I've ever written, even though it's nowhere near finished - I did 120k in a little over 8 months, and I've never come close to anything like that before.

It was, however, an idea that was too advanced for my skill level at the time, I think. I had a lot of ideas (good ones!) but not the skill to do them justice, which is part of why it's sat in WIP purgatory for the last several years 😭 I've been so busy actually leveling up as a writer and exploring different fandoms that the work it's going to take to breathe new life into the fic was just too much.

Now, however, my Wake the White Wolf document is a beautiful blank page, and also going to be part of my novel-plotting process! I've got a few different plotting methods I'd like to try before I sit down and try to actually puzzle out my novel's plot, and because I know how WWW was supposed to go, I want to do a test run with that story (and then, of course, rewrite it).

There are things I plan to do a little differently this time around, aspects I'd like to flesh out and nail down, but it's been ages since I've really sat down with a Naruto fic and I'm just. Kinda. Giving myself space to feel all right in the fandom again as I work the story out.

Story-wise:

I'm JAZZED AS HELL to really develop the secondary relationships in the fic more. There's a lot of healing to do between Kakashi and Iruka before they really can start to be together (forced marriage trope heehee), and I want both of them to be a little more mature before the turning points really start to hit. I'm especially excited about the IruAnko besties-with-benefits and GenRai "oh, so these relationships CAN work" vision

There's also a great B-plot about Kakashi that has to do with the fic's OC, Sera, and Orochimaru, which was like really vaguely alluded to in what's posted but I'm feral about actually working into the fic.

I wrote this at a time I was really just starting to question my gender and long before I came out as trans, and I think writing the fic (which, looking back, is an exploration of that gender angst) through the lens of a better-adjusted person is going to be a great experience and make for a more coherent, cohesive narrative.

I guess like LONG long story short this is a fic that's haunted me for ages because I really appreciate every single person who's read it but there's also that "fuck, I'm so much better than this" that I just have to GET OVER and rewrite the thing so people can see!!!

[tigerspite]

For OC Asks (choose-your-own-OC adventure):

betrayal, break, failure, ghost, hide, mask, and monster!

Okay I'm going to cook here and do Wethraks AND Lodask so under a read more. Thank you!

betrayal: Has your OC ever been betrayed by someone they thought they could trust? Has your OC ever betrayed someone who trusted them?

Wethraks, yeah Ursaviks totally betrayed him by lying to him. He then made a lifestyle of sort of betraying others given his position in the House. There's plenty of people who trusted him that he likely screwed over.

Lodask was just screwed from the start in his first life. He doesn't make a habit of betraying people because trust is everything to him, and he's not the type to screw someone over to get ahead. So no, he's a pure boy.

break: What would cause your OC to break down completely? What do they look like when that happens? Has anyone ever seen them at their lowest?

Wethraks ended up going on a murderous rampage in the wake of losing his entire family and seeing his House wiped out at Twilight Gap. That took him down some very dark roads (which I hesitate to expand on because I might actually get to writing it out one day!), but it was mainly an expression of grief, rage, and wanting to get rid of anyone who could hurt himself or those he cares about.

Lodask this did happen but in his 'home universe'. He thought he was safe living out in the woods well away from everyone and trying to rebuild his life after getting out of a cult that had him and his brothers under complete control, and then people associated with said cult found him. The loss of safety and feeling so betrayed by his brother (who was staying with him at the time) made him go on a downwards spiral into depression and suicidal behaviour.

In fact generally that time in his life was not good for him on so many fronts lol. He basically went on a collision course that didn't stop until he had all the answers he wanted, at the cost of burning a lot of bridges. After that, he found some sort of peace. Luckily this fundamentally can't happen in the ELU so he's home free and doesn't have to go through that!

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

I think Wethraks does feel responsible for not being able to save some people. I don't think there's any one big failure, just a lot of small ones that added up over time. Objectively, a lot of people have died because of him or because of his actions (or lack of them). Like Lodask died to protect him. Solkis was killed because he didn't quite manage to stop Saint (but thought he did). Technically, Siriks died because of him (although that's a real can of worms). I don't think he's spoken about some of these with anyone.

Lodask, for the purposes of the ELU, is free of feeling he made a great failure. Outside the ELU, he whole-heartedly blamed himself for not being able to find or locate his brother in time before he almost got killed when he went missing. Honestly I feel that contributed to why he distanced himself from his family full stop. He did not cope well with that.

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

See above answer for Wethraks. The people he loved and lost bothers him immensely. He has all sorts of stuff from them that he's hoarded for fear of losing that too.

Lodask...he had like the most traumatic fucked up upbringing ever. That haunts him on every front. He has like TURBO CPTSD. It eats him alive. He deals with it by just not bothering with other people and keeping to himself, as well as a healthy dose of trust issues and fear of others. House Devils was the best place he could've ended up since they actually gave a shit about him for being himself. But if you knew his full story, I don't think you'd blame him lmao

hide: What does your OC hide? Why do they hide it?

Wethraks hides whatever he's doing at every opportunity. Partially because of confidentiality, partially because he doesn't believe anyone needs to know what he's doing full stop. Which stems from the trust issues laid out above. He has a head full of secrets.

Lodask hides himself. Anyone who wants to know him - actually know him - has to dig through a Tootsie roll of hardened layers to get to the real him. He had to do that to protect himself and it's his default state of being. There is a very kind, intelligent, sympathetic soul inside that who really doesn't want to hurt anyone or anything. Just it got buried and beaten out of him. Literally.

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

See above answers. Wethraks, I think Eramis is the only one who gets to see beneath the mask at this point. He's done a very good of keeping calm and professional or friendly and approachable as needed - he's a chameleon, and a very selfish one at that. But Eramis knows who he is at the core, and what he's been through, so she can punch straight through it and get to what's really bugging him. Or just use it to wind him up further lmao. Beneath Wethraks's mask is mainly thinking how he's going to still come out on top or not get involved in something.

Again, as above for Lodask, his existence is a mask. Under it is a puppy having a perpetual panic attack, who screams when you look at it. Only Wethraks and Solkis truly got to see through it, although he did ease off and learn to unmask / calm down with time and rehabilitation with the Devils. The unshakeable soldier thing did not last very long there.

monster: Is your OC monstrous in any way? Is there something that makes them monstrous? Are they aware of their own monstrosity? Do they accept it or reject it?

Wethraks isn't. He's a product of his environment. House Devils internal and external politics were a fucking minefield, and he got straight into the middle of it just by virtue of who decided they liked him. He doesn't believe he's a monster either, but has made choices he regrets. Unfortunately, Eliksni being Eliksni and humanity being humanity demands that horrible choices be made sometimes. He regrets it, but it's not keeping him up at night level regret.

Lodask. Wow. Okay. Yeah there's a lot to unpack here so let's throw out the suitcase. He has done horrific things to other people. We see him struggling with what he knows he's capable of doing in the The Devil's Claw. He was rewarded greatly for aggression and violence as he grew up, it was pretty much what he was raised to do to others and he happened to be the best at it. So he got turned into a monster and hates himself for it, and quite honestly I do think this sense of guilt did dimly carry over to his post resurrection life and moral code. To survive and get to the Last City, he sometimes had to do things he regretted. He still feels guilty for that but is learning to forgive himself for what he did and the people / Eliksni he hurt or killed.

Pre resurrection, I don't think he ever got over what he did as a teen / young adult. Even though he would've learned and come to terms with how it wasn't his fault at the roots, there's still a massive part of himself that will never get over it. Probably thinks it's best he doesn't so he never forgets and never does it to anyone else.