#i need more than a mobile game appearance i need to hear his voice and see him beat the shit out of ppl....

[wereh0gz]

They should bring back the werehog. That'd be so cool and awesome and epic I think

[cryoux]

Alhaitham with reader who has chronic pain (from Eleazar)

Pain was a constant thing in your life. As far back as you could remember, you'd felt pain every day of your life. Sometimes, it was on the surface, manifesting in an itch that hurt to scratch but was agonizing to leave alone. Or it could come as a pounding headache, threatening to knock you to the ground with each new wave. There was even pain in your very bones, the supposedly solid structure of your skeleton suddenly feeling brittle and frankly useless. 

Pondering thusly: if you felt pain each waking hour and even seeping into your sleep, did you really feel the pain at all?

It would be nice to consider these fascinating questions, maybe write an essay about it - if only you could find yourself mobile enough to hold a pen.

Today, it was your wrists. Stiff, brittle, useless. There was no hope of doing anything today, or even tomorrow, for that matter. It was all you could do to lift a cup of water to your lips. Archons, you hated this feeling. Most days were completely fine, you could almost forget about the lifelong agony, the torture of merely existing. Not this time.

Still, you refused to wallow in bed. Instead you unwrapped the binding bandages over your arms, closed all the windows, locked the door, and tried to do anything to pass the time. Solitaire, a game of chess (playing as two nonpartisan people, of course), cleaning dishes (you only broke two!), and sweeping until the floor was spotless. At some point, you'd stupidly tried to wash the floor on your hands and knees, only to be stuck there in agony for fifteen minutes.

Useless. You felt so useless, not only to yourself, but everyone around you. Constantly asking for deadline extensions, unable to finish in-class assignments, incapable of doing the simplest household chores. Here you sat, here you stayed, and only here you allowed the silent tears to fall.

A knock on the door startled you, and you reeled in shock before hurriedly wiping your eyes dry. Could it be your research partner, wondering why you hadn't met with them today? Or maybe it was your neighbor, who saw all the closed blinds and wanted to make sure you were alright.

For some reason, the actual answer surprised you more than the other two unlikely events. You rolled the sleeves of your jacket down before you opened the door and peeked out, but it appeared there was never a need for the secrecy. There at the door stood Alhaitham, solemnly meeting your gaze. 

Though he didn't speak, you could feel the questions burning into you. You both loved and loathed how easily he could read you; it made for easy communication on your part, but you could never hide anything.

Maintaining the silence was a simple task. You turned away from him, retreating into the darkened house without even closing the door - you knew Alhaitham would take care of it. Did you particularly want him here right now? No, not like this. Not with how vulnerable you felt.

"You didn't call for me."

You flinched at the sudden rumble of his voice. There was more intrigue than concern in his voice, while his expression gave nothing. The only thing that you could deduce was that he wasn't entirely happy with you.

"No, because I'm fine." A lie. Both of you knew it, and Alhaitham sighed to indicate as such. 

"You're not fine. And frankly, it's insulting that you'd assume I would believe that." He wasn't mean about it, he was simply telling you to cut the shit. You knew he wasn't truly insulted; there were plenty of other things to stroke his ego.

You scoffed. "Maybe I am this time. You can't dictate how I'm feeling." The argument was ridiculous as you said it, and you could hear the exasperation building in Alhaitham.

"Your bandages are off, meaning you haven't left the house, nor do you plan to. The blinds are all closed because you don't want to risk anyone seeing you right now, the chess board is one move away from checkmate, you haven't put your books away," Alhaitham strode through the living room as he pointed out each miniscule detail that you had long since given up on. "The counter is wet," he nodded toward the kitchen, where water was sitting all over the counter, "There's this bit you forgot to clean up," he lifted a small piece of the porcelain plate that had met its demise earlier that day. "And there is a straw in your cup." He finished his little walk through, circling back around to stand in front of you. You couldn't quite meet his gaze. "Shall I continue?"

The more he had pointed out, the worse you felt - seeing as you couldn't, he would have to clean most of these things. Adding chores to his schedule was the last thing you wanted to do. You shook your head, unable to keep the words in any longer.

"I didn't mean to leave everything out. I was just trying to pass the time, and everything I tried went wrong. I couldn't even stay asleep long enough for a nap, and the bed isn't made, the laundry is still outside, the floor is half clean, I broke two dishes not just the one, I dropped my hair brush in the bathroom, I can't make food for myself, I'm-"

You were silenced by a firm grasp on your aching wrists - firm, but not the slightest bit harsh, and you dared to raise your eyes up to meet his.

"Honestly," he huffed, "You're impossible." How had he known where you were going with that? How could he tell you were spiraling before even you realized it? Alhaitham gently tugged you to the couch, sitting you both down. The sleeves of your jacket were gently rolled back up, exposing the horrid sight of them. You tried to pull your accursed hands away, but to absolutely no avail. Instead, the green of Alhaitham's Dendro vision began to glow, and a faint light emanated from his hands on your wrists.

Within moments, the pain in your arms began to ebb, and you felt warm as sunlight on a lovely spring day. Shocked, you stared at where he held you, watching the scaly appearance of your skin reverse its effect ever so slightly. What in Teyvat was this?

You opened your mouth to inquire as such, but he silenced you almost immediately. "I encountered Tighnari today. He recently wrote a comprehensive analysis of The Withering occuring throughout Sumeru. Eleazar is linked to it almost directly; it seems he even has some firsthand experience." Alhaitham never met your gaze, as if he was just a little shy. "Since dendro seems to temporarily reverse the effects of Withering, I thought I should try…" in a rare moment of uncertainty, he paused. "...something."

His words were truthfully the only cure you needed.

After a bout of silence disturbed only by internal thought, you cracked a smile. "So you thought if you infused your hands with dendro, you'd take some of the pain away." These words seemed to be correct as Alhaitham's green eyes narrowed, almost reminiscent of a pout. How cute.

"It was only my hypothesis." He grumbled.

"Well it was correct." Your smile was soft, as soft as the grip he had on your hands. Beneath the layers of sarcasm and apathy, every now and then a spark of emotion would shine through, and you lived for each one of those moments, where you could finally see Alhaitham's humanity once more.

[crowleysgirl56]

Wildest dreams wishes for Good Omens Season 3 which will probably not come true but I can still hope hey!

Number 30.

CRANK THAT RIDICULOUS DIAL TO ELEVEN! Yet another extreme silliness wish, this a part 2 to my wildest dream number 27. In with Crowley continues to be petulant, and Aziraphale gets to play the rescuer.

Sprawled on the footpath where the Bentley had so unceremoniously dumped him, Aziraphale looks up at Crowley, bemused as the demon continues to rant at the retreating sight of his car. He can’t help but smile fondly at the dramatic cascade of insults spewing forth, drawing the weary eyes of passers by.

“…and next time I see you I’m going to let down your tyres!!”

Aziraphale picks himself up and briskly brushes himself down. “You’d never do such a thing and you know it” he teases primly.

The sound of Aziraphale’s voice seems to startle Crowley slightly, who resolutely ignores the angel and hurriedly makes his way down the street. Aziraphale immediately gives chase.

“Crowley, please could we talk for a moment?” Crowley’s pace picks up speed as he manoeuvres around the larger than usual number of pedestrians ambling along Whickber Street.

“Only I feel like I need to explain-” Crowley snaps his fingers and suddenly Aziraphale is cut off mid sentence by some suddenly appearing council workers jackhammering in the middle of the road.

“If you could just listen for a mome-” another snap of fingers and suddenly a line of cars blaring their horns emerge from nowhere. Frustrated by the wall of sound, Aziraphale covers his ears and manages to lunge himself in front of Crowley blocking his path.

“Don’t you think you’re acting just a tad child-”.

Crowley smiles smugly as the cacophony of noise overwhelms Aziraphale, who purses his lips and attempts to yell over the car horns, jackhammers, tolling bells, and loud mobile conversations, “could we just go into the bookshop!-”

Crowley gestures to his ears and mouths something that looks along the lines of “I can’t hear you”. Aziraphale fed up with the game draws down a miracle, silencing the street. A number of pedestrians stop to wonder how everything suddenly became so quiet, the queue of cars and council workers miraculously gone.

“Please, just hear me out-”

Crowley growls and immediately jumps away, angrily shoving his fingers in his ears. “LALALA NOT LISSSSTENIIIINNGGGGG!” He steps out backwards into the street, just as a large lorry comes barrelling down the road towards him, blaring its horn.

“CROWLEY!” Aziraphale cries. Crowley turns but it’s evident he is too late to react in time. Panicked Aziraphale throws out a careless miracle, redirecting the driver, whilst lunging forward and grabs onto Crowley’s lapels pulling him back to safety.

Crowley slams into Aziraphale’s arms. They stand wrapped in each other’s embrace, breathing heavily as they recover from the sudden adrenaline. A creeping realisation dawns and they both slowly turn their heads to look out into the street at the gawping gathering crowd. Some have started taking videos with their phone. It’s evident that the lorry has somehow ended up on the roof of Mr Brown’s world of carpets emporium. They slowly turn back to look at each other once more.

Aziraphale speaks in a low and clipped tone, “Get. Inside. The bookshop. Now!” Crowley can only nod in response. They slowly peel themselves away from each and as casually as one can whilst a crowd is photographing you, make their way into the bookshop. For that long awaited chat.

NOW KISS!

[zeondraws]

Random thoughts so I don't forget them while researching

Note to myself, make a list of where I can find multiple occasions of dead crew members reappearing inside the shape

keep hearing the term absorbed but I have a hard time understanding how they'd do that

My assumption is the moment they transform the form they take on, is the way they look like from then on.

If Raffs is stuck in the bell, how come I find his head reappear in multiple areas according to the game file maps. He's stuck on Roper too.

The area Addair stays in before his first reveal in Engineering has a strange amount of copies of his body inside the shape. I have to check if they're labelled with his name. Roper probably didn't see infected Addair? Why is there a part of Addair on Roper? Same with Alex, but I need to compare ingame and gamefile stuff side by side next time. I don't know WHERE Alex died. His body appears multiple times.

Does this somewhat say when everyone got infected or is this random. The mobile infected don't change forms. However immobile infected like Ken can burst out, this can't be seen by the player normally. But I think the shape bursted out of him when Caz wanted to go to the lifeboats.

How Roper transformed is a mystery for me, either the shape got him through the roof of marine control. Or he got covered in it too and transformed at a later moment. Which means the shape maybe used him as an anchor point to grow through? I need to research all of this and actually make proper keynotes to it all. Otherwise I will always forget

Trots is obvious for me, the shape bursted through the pipes in the bathroom which caught him. Making him transform. In said bathroom are remains of another person, but only one of the legs is from Trots, the remaining parts are not labelled with a name. Didn't somebody else have Trots leg attached? I need to recheck..

Gibbo appears multiple times in different levels, someone thought that's how he'd look like and whatever is talking to you in the water tanks is a copy of some sorts. But I don't believe that theory. Game is inspired by the thing but the shape seems to operate differently.

My head breaks about the whole absorb thing, the dead crew members that Gibbo and Muir killed don't transform. However there is one crewmember in the Muir level somewhat grown into the shape, I need to check what's below him, did the shape come out of engineering and grab him through the ground? I don't think I see him anymore in the late game. Did he morph into spherical balls at the end? There is a different body near this location- before said body gets replaced with dead Muir

Is it only possible for immobile infected to absorb? I don't know if eating or mauling crew members like Rennick and Trots count as absorbing? Or does it?

I should align the rig maps together in some way

Trots doesn't seem to change appearance even after mauling multiple of his crewmates in the Cabin Floor. Roy seems completely unaffected by everything aside from the insulin problem. I get the slight feeling the shape doesn't want to get to Roy in some way.

People think the infected crewmembers aren't aware of things (or not fully). Maybe it's true to some extent but judging deleted files and the way some of them speak, they're probably still very aware. Emotions drastically influenced by the shape. Hearing, smelling and feeling pain is drastically increased.

Maybe they communicate to each other with howls or through minds, but dunno. Caz only sees his own memories. Didn't one soundfile really indicate him being more infected than suggested. His voice weirdly distorted, or maybe I have to listen to it again. Tho it makes sense what Finlay said before she died, Caz would've transformed at some point sooner or later, I think. The amount of times he was submerged in the substance would suggest it, Same with Gibbo who got it on him.

Puppet Choir files is where Caz wonders if they're talking to each other, but he might refer to the howling.

Yeah no I definitely need to learn how to do bullet points or make some sketches to connect everything together. I have noticed how overwhelmed I get with the info I discovered, but putting 2 and 2 together is difficult

Did Addair knew something before he fell down to the ocean, if Caz talked to the shape in a deleted scene about the drill. Was Addair trying to stop Caz from doing something incorrectly (flare stack). Or maybe there is no big meaning and Addair doesn't feel like stuff being messed with

He probably hid in processing quad to escape the rising water levels in engineering. Gibbo must've died down there, poor bastard.

These are all just loose thoughts so only take it with a grain of salt... I struggle putting my thoughts out because I usually think I say half of it incorrectly. I dunno, I need more research probably. And write it down in some word file

okay I go do some art now...and play the game AGAIN-

[paranormalsaga]

Nebulous (Chapter Two)

Nagode was off to an early start in the morning, so early he turned off his alarm before it was set to ring. Cleaning up his bedroom took much longer than expected, but he had things mostly in order three hours later. At least as much as they could be. Last night had left his gaming console in ruins, along with his monitor. Thankfully, his laptop survived unscathed. 

He ate oatmeal for breakfast while he used his employee discount to order a new bed frame and monitor from Atlas, they would arrive in twelve hours. Allmart had an “All Time Low” deal that made getting the gaming console from them cheaper.

This is why you’re broke, he thought to himself. 

Unfortunately, he needed to pick up the console in person. He took the train and basked in the warmth of a summer morning in Neptune City. With no money to pay for an autonomous taxi, he had to walk the rest of the way to the store from a train stop. The streets were filled with pedestrians. Their expressions looked more absurd, almost as if he was hallucinating. He felt an urge to get away as he walked among them. This feeling had always been bad, but it was as if last night’s events had exacerbated things today. Something was different.

He walked into the gigantic, crowded store as stoically as possible and headed straight for the electronics department. A clerk would need to unlock the console from its glass case.

“Excuse me,” Nagode said to a clerk with their back turned to him. The employee appeared to be a young, balding man in his late twenties.

“Fuck off,” a man’s voice said.

Nagode looked around, bewildered. Where had that voice come from? He’d heard it as clearly as he would have if the person who spoke were standing right beside him.

“How can I help you sir?” The clerk asked as he turned around from what he’d been doing. It was the same voice, only now it matched the man’s distance.

Nagode took a second to collect himself, too confused to speak.

“I need you to unlock an item for me,” he said after an awkward silence. He guided the clerk to the console and waited for him to unlock it. Then they walked over to the cash register. While the clerk was ringing up the item, Nagode heard the same ominous voice from a few moments earlier.

“Is this guy dumb or something? Why does he look like that?” The clerk thought, and Nagode could hear it. He heard his voice even though his lips weren’t moving.

“You can pay now,” the clerk said aloud.

He tapped his phone for the mobile payment. As the clerk handed him his bag and receipt, Nagode became curious. He wondered…

“I can hear you.”

“What the fuck?” The clerk exclaimed as he jumped back in alarm, bumping into an open drawer. “How did you just do that?”

“Am I going insane?” The clerk thought.

Nagode ignored him, he was already on his way out of the store, he’d learned what he needed to know.

…

“I’m serious dude, this isn’t bullshit.”

Jonah took a hit from his bong.

“So you’re like a Jedi or something?”

Nagode put his head in his hands.

“I’m serious,” he repeated. “Ever since last night, things have been weird. Remember when you came up to check on me? You know I’m not lying.”

“I know you think you’re not lying,” Jonah said as he put down the bong. “But what I heard last night doesn’t prove anything.”

Nagode realized what he needed to do.

“If you want me to believe you, use your ‘powers’ on me,” Jonah said, making air quotes.

The truth was that Nagode had been using his powers on Jonah since he arrived back at the apartment. He used them to learn that Jonah was a lot more stressed about his grad program than he let on and that he was planning to have sex with their mutual friend, Emma, later tonight. However, as soon as Nagode told Jonah about this power, the voice switched off. Nagode couldn’t hear any of Jonah’s thoughts anymore.

“You’re going to Emma’s soon.” 

“It doesn’t take a mindreader to know that much,” Jonah said with a cocky grin. 

Nagode rolled his eyes. He considered bringing up grad school for a second but then decided against it, opting to communicate his thoughts to Jonah to prove it instead.

“Don’t,” a voice bellowed inside Nagode’s mind, making him jump. He recognized that it belonged to the dark figure from last night.

“Dude, are you okay?” Jonah asked.

Nagode looked around himself frantically, and a concerned expression grew on Jonah’s face.

“Look, I think it might be time to seriously consider quitting your Atlas gig,” Jonah began. “I know you need the money, and earning it that way sounds nice in theory, but your schedule with the Nullifier is insane. Why do you think they use it in prisons? Why do you think people are fighting so hard to abolish it?”

“This isn’t about that,” Nagode said.

“Isn’t it? You say you’re hearing voices. Couldn’t it be possible that the implant is having damaging effects on you? You know, psychologically. I don’t trust that shit. I think you should quit.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I’m not crazy, I’m not hearing voices… Okay, well I am hearing voices, but that doesn’t make me crazy. There’s something strange going on here.”

“Look bro, I’ll be here for you when you get a grip, but I’m not indulging this.” Jonah picked up his house keys. “I’m gonna go do some errands, try to feel better, okay?”

Nagode decided to let it go, the dark figure's voice suddenly appearing in his mind left him on edge in anticipation of its return. He didn't want to hear it again, and if that meant dropping this argument with Josh, then so be it.

“Is ‘some errands’ Emma?”

“‘Some errands’ is Emma,” Jonah responded without missing a beat. They both laughed. 

…

It was hardly late by the time Nagode decided to go to bed, but he was too tired to care.

Then it happened again. As soon as he fell asleep, he was staring at his body as if he were a third-party observer, but everything in his room stood still this time. Even the hands on his clock were immobile.

The dark figure from the night before had returned. They raised their hand and ripped open the fabric of space itself. Nagode had trouble comprehending what exactly he was seeing. A large hole stood in his room where nothing but emptiness had been a moment before. There was endless blackness on the other side of it. The figure pulled him into the hole without even touching him.

When he passed through the other side of the portal, he noticed a cluster of black rocks floating beneath his feet. It was the only thing in the endless vacuum of space spread out in all directions. The figure hovered several feet away from him, cross-legged.

“Who are you?” Nagode asked.

“I am Annihilation,” the figure responded. It was the longest sentence they’d spoken thus far. “But you already know who I am. You’ve felt my presence all your life.”

“What do you mean? What’s going on? Why am I hearing all of these voices in my head? Where am I right now? What am I right now? Why did you bust my monitor-”

Annihilation raised their hand with enough authority to compel him to stop talking. Now that Nagode was getting a closer look at them, he could distinguish their features much more clearly. They wore simple white robes. He still couldn’t discern whether they were a man or a woman. Their bald head, tall stature, and broad shoulders hinted at masculinity, but their voice and beauty were so ethereal that he felt both possibilities were equally plausible. Their liquid black complexion and glowing eyes were so inhuman that it was too difficult to identify them with anything he’d ever seen.

“You are in the Psychic Realm, a dimension that exists beyond the boundaries of time and space. This is your home, our home, and now you’re ready to reclaim it,” they began as Nagode drew closer, stopping a few feet in front of them.

“You’ve already projected your psychic form into this dimension a few times before while you slept, but your mind was too weak back then.

"The voices you hear are not voices at all, but the psychic expressions of others. Every individual produces psychic expressions through mental events, even lower life forms, to some extent. However, human psychic expressions are infinitely more powerful due to their unique abilities. The concept of self and abstract thought distinguish human sentience from all others. Humanity’s communication of ideas is one of the most powerful forms of psychic expression in the cosmos. You are endowed with the gift of reading those psychic expressions. 

“And that is not your only gift. I did not move any objects last night. You did. You possess the power to bring true peace to the universe.”

“What do you mean?”

“You understand what must be done, that we must relieve the universe from the burden of our existence, and you have the means to do it. I know you want to die painlessly, thinking about your loved ones, memories, and dreams. I know you want to be done with all of this. I know you because I am you. We are psychically connected. We are Annihilation.”

“Why me? Why do I have these powers?”

They paused, staring at him. He suddenly realized how faint he felt. 

“Your mind cannot handle much more of this, you must return to your world.”

Another portal leading back to Nagode’s bedroom appeared to their right. Before he could say anything else, his psychic form was pulled through it and back into his body. He woke up covered in sweat. When he checked the time on his phone, he did a double-take. It was the same time it had been when Annihilation arrived.

…

“Got him.” Gadget said.

Battalion perked up. 

“I spotted a mild flare-up near Ujamaatown earlier in the day, nothing too unusual, but then an hour ago there was another massive spike back in the same location as last night. Only this time I pinpointed where it was specifically coming from. Lord Properties, fifth floor, room 509,” Gadget said.

They were back in the research center, looking at live footage of the apartment building projected on one of Gadget’s screens. 

“I accessed their records and identified the residents. Two roommates: Jonah Igwe and Nagode Tyjani, but I’ve confirmed that the source is Nagode. My drones recorded Jonah exiting the apartment building a little after 9 p.m., but the most recent psychic spike didn’t occur until an hour later when Nagode was the only person in the room.”

Battalion grinned as he looked at Nagode’s file displayed on another one of Gadget’s monitors. They had finally located another Paranormal Entity. Battalion knew that handling this would impress the Director.

Within an hour, Battalion stood in twelve locations surrounding Lord Properties, primed for a fight. One of those locations was outside a building next to the apartment complex. He looked up at it, then turned to Masquerade standing beside him. She was dressed in a dark stealth suit and armed to the teeth. Her golden eyes looked back at him.

She cocked her head slightly to the side.

“He’s awake but not doing much,” she reported. “He doesn’t seem to know we’re here.”

“Okay, follow me in and stay hidden in case he tries anything.”

Masquerade nodded, and then she turned invisible.

They made their way toward Nagode’s apartment.

Next Chapter

Last Chapter

[subarus-gentle-butterfly]

In an otherwise quiet corridor at Ryoutei Academy, muffled battle cries are heard, along with the clashing of pixelated greatswords. Should one choose to follow the sound, they’ll be led to the locker belonging to a certain unsociable vampire.

Its owner is hiding within it, hunched over while fanatically playing mobile games. In the absence of a coffin, Subaru is required to find other confined spaces to dwell in.

He could not be bothered to attend any of his classes today. On some nights more than others, it all seems so pointless. He prefers to waste his time in manners that are less tedious. 

“Come on, come on,” Through gritted teeth, Subaru attempts to cheer his little game avatar to victory. Just one more kill before he’ll be able to advance to the next stage, and then— 

Eh?!?!

One moment Subaru is engaged in an epic battle; the next minute he finds himself staring defeatedly at his hideous reflection. His phone has died on him— because that’s what happens when you repeatedly ignore the ‘low battery’ warnings. How audacious.  “Fuck me.” Resisting the urge to crush it in his frustration, he violently shakes the device, as if that’ll do anything to help. 

Grr. That’s it. Subaru is going home. He doesn’t fucking care.

~ Emerging from his locker is like stepping through a portal. He needs a moment to adjust, suddenly hearing things he was oblivious to mere seconds prior. His heightened senses make him inclined to simply block the world out on occasion. If he were to absorb everything he perceives at all times, he’d undoubtedly lose his mind. 

Nearby voices capture his attention for some reason. One of said voices, he recognizes all too well. It’s Miu. And she is pleading for mercy, no less. Sigh. Which one of his brothers is tormenting her this time? 

Subaru turns the corner, only to be displeased by the sight that greets him. He curses himself for being too engrossed in video games to notice this sooner. Miu is being harassed. Not by any of Subaru’s brothers, but by a pair of her classmates, or so he assumes. Instantly, Subaru wonders whether it has happened before, or if this is but an isolated incident. He is disposed to believe it’s the latter, because Miu appears to be caught entirely off guard by the taunting. 

What are these assholes still doing here, considering that they have evidently graduated from Bully School already? They’re a textbook example, having backed Miu into a corner, strewn her belongings across the floor and gone as far as ripping off her jacket and pouring some kind of juice over it, rendering it unwearable. Clearly, the goal is to mortify her.

To top it all off, they are saying presumably offensive things to her,— Subaru doesn’t really know, as he’s too busy seething to actively listen —one being significantly more vocal than the other. At first, Subaru feels annoyed with Miu for being so meek. Why the fuck isn’t she putting them in their place? She easily could.

When the more enthusiastic one of the two bullies raises a hand to her, Subaru finally snaps out of his stupor. 

“Oi!” Acting on instinct, he slams his fist into the locker he happens to be standing next to, successfully diverting their attention from Miu. The metal crumples up beneath the force as if it were nothing more than a sheet of paper; the noise he produces by doing this is deafening. All eyes are on Subaru just like that. “Back the fuck off!” He roars, feral with rage. 

“What’s he doing here?” One boy asks the other, his voice a rushed whisper. Indeed. It is rare to spot the youngest member of the Sakamaki clan out in the open. But in spite of this, he’s managed to build quite a reputation for himself. These losers are right to be intimidated by him. They don’t know how to act, standing there looking stupid. 

“Get out of my sight… before I kill you.” Subaru places a hefty emphasis on those last few words, staring into the ringleader’s soul. His glare is nothing short of haunting, brimming with unmistakable malice and utter abhorrence. Part of him hopes the boys refuse to move so he’ll be given an excuse to hurt them— they won’t be able to say he didn’t warn them, should they still possess the ability to speak by the time he’s done with them. Imagining the suffering he wishes to inflict upon these miserable cretins, Subaru even smirks fleetingly. 

But above all that, he's concerned about Miu. He wants nothing more intensely than to make sure she's alright. Getting back at her assailants isn't even his priority. And besides, revenge is a dish best served cold. 

Therefore, when the boys end up lingering in place still, Subaru effortlessly tears the shriveled-up locker door off its hinges. He is showing no mercy to whoever owns it. "I said, scram!" Growling, he swings the door above his head as if it were a baseball bat, ready to bash in some brains. Subaru probably looks downright ridiculous wielding such an inelegant weapon, but at least those bullies understand that he means business now. 

Crying to one another about how ‘psychotic’ and ‘terrifying’ Subaru is, they run for the hills like the cowards they are. 

Glancing over his shoulder to watch their retreating figures, Subaru allows the door to hit the ground with a loud clang. He clicks his tongue while walking over to where Miu is standing.   

“Don’t let them throw you around like that.” Rather than ask her if she’s okay, Subaru bluntly reprimands her— because God forbid that he is ever candidly nice to anyone. It’s quite ironic that he should say it like that. And he realizes it. “That right is reserved for someone else.” In a feeble attempt to lighten the mood, he flashes a grin.

“Let’s just get out of here.” His tone softens slightly, but he still feels uncomfortable. Subaru cannot stand to see Miu be so pathetic.

Bending over to reach for a pencil case, he notices something that causes the world to momentarily stop spinning. Unthinkingly, he grabs onto Miu’s wrist and examines the… cuts that taint the expanse of her smooth skin in abundance. What is he looking at right now? Is wanting to expose this the reason why they vandalized her uniform, or were picking on her in the first place?

“Hah?” Blinks. “Did those shitheads just…?” He begins to ask despite his own better judgment. These are scars. If blood had been spilt, he would have smelled it from miles away. But then, where did these gashes come from? Does Subaru even want to know?

“It was Reiji, right?” Subaru asks, sounding strangely hopeful— even if he already knows the answer to that question. “That fucking bastard and his penchant for lashings.” He adds matter-of-factly. “I won’t let him touch you again.” Subaru is selfishly clinging to this false narrative in order to protect his own feelings. 

“You are not allowed to leave my side, ‘kay?” He adds, undeniably frantic with concern. His grip around Miu’s arm tightens, his scarlet gaze fixed on hers. There is no describing the blend of emotions he’s experiencing at the moment. “I’m not taking my eyes off you," He pauses, meaningfully. “do you understand?” 

At long last, he releases Miu from his grasp, only to swiftly take off his own jacket and drape it wordlessly over the girl’s shoulders.

"It wasn't Re—" Miu pauses, looking up at him and analyzing his expression, choosing not to finish her confession.

"Okay... I understand... B-But you're hurting me..." she winces at his tightened grip on her arm, a few of her scars weren't entirely healed, some having been recently placed on her skin.

She sniffs, eyes still watering with fresh tears threatening to spill. She felt so pathetic, and she knew she looked the part, too. If only she were stronger, with more confidence to fight for herself. But those boys had found out about her darkest secret. She was caught entirely off guard by their discovery of her scars that she tried so hard to hide.

And now Subaru knew, too. This was a nightmare. Was he angry with her? Would she get hurt worse than the pain she already inflicted upon herself? Was he disgusted? What was he thinking? She wished she could have the power to read his mind. She was anxious to know. She had to know.

But right now, she felt so guilty, as if she were some sort of criminal who committed a grave crime. Miu felt even more guilty that Subaru was showing that he cared so much by giving her his jacket. She didn't know what to say.... all she could think of was to apologize.

"I'm sorry..." She says meekly, her voice cracking with emotion that she tried so hard to keep from showing. She hated herself for sounding so pathetic.

[absentcaryatid]

Kang and Yeosang

An ATEEZ fanfic by AbsentCaryatid

While fighting a crush on your coworker known only in writing, you finally meet and are attracted to the handsome man across the hall from your apartment.

4.7K words, Content note: teen and up, gender neutral reader, mention of giant mobile game breasts, unelaborated mention of insects, alcohol references, food

~

You stared at the latest exchange with your collaborator, a mysterious artist who went by the mononym Kang. Such an attractive man if his progressive worldviews were anything to go by. One day you hoped to meet him, hear his voice and see what he looked like, but that was not likely. His identity was a closely guarded secret, even from your publisher.

Surprised but thrilled was how you would describe the feeling when such a big-name illustrator had originally taken on your project. It was clear from the start that storylines with social justice themes would not ever be a runaway hit, but with his name attached to it, more people were willing to give it a try than otherwise would so you were very grateful for that much-needed boost.

Based on the hours Kang kept, odds were he lived on another side of the world, but still you mused from time to time about getting to know him better, perhaps through phone or video calls if he ever felt that comfortable. For now though, the friendship that had developed in writing over months of working together on the comic you wrote and he illustrated was enough to bring joy to your life. However tiring your day may have been, Kang was guaranteed to make you laugh. Still, you wondered if there could be more between you in the future.

Sighing heavily as you closed the laptop, it was time to get back to another aspect of your work, preparing for the latest convention. Your pet sitter had dropped out at the last minute so you were looking to find someone else in the building to feed your babies while you were away. After a few small updates to their care sheet, you thought about the upcoming trip and how good it would be to see your dear friend Seonghwa again as the printer zipped through the simple task. While you had been offered a room in the hotel where the comic con was being held, staying at the home of your childhood friend was preferable to have the most time together possible.

Freshly printed instruction list in hand, you stuck your head out of your apartment wondering which neighbor to ask first. In a lucky stroke of timing, the quiet man who lived across the hall was just unlocking his door. Despite months of living so closely, this was the first time you had actually seen him.

At your greeting he gave a small nod and a timidly voiced introduction that belied his words. “I'm Yeosang. A pleasure to meet you.” A hand shot out to shake, then was quickly withdrawn and he wiped it on his pants. “Sorry. I just took the trash out.”

Despite being flustered, Yeosang seemed kind of cute. At your own introduction, he finally made eye contact and you noticed a distinct carnation shaped birthmark by his eye. While you were not good with faces, you figured it would be easy to recognize your neighbor in the future.

Before you could ask him for the favor, he blurted out, “Oh! I have a piece of your mail, just came in today. Come inside and I will get it.”

As you followed Yeosang into his apartment, the idea struck you that maybe your good-looking neighbor could take your mind off the comics illustrator you could not shake from your thoughts. Your first impression was that Yeosang was not long-term dating material based on the hesitant personality shown so far, but he might be good for a little bit of fun from time to time, tiding you over until better prospects came along.

“Um, please excuse the mess, I am mid-project right now.”

He wasn't kidding, a whole factory's worth of supplies littered the living room. What appeared to your inexpert eye to be drone parts were scattered across the floor and you carefully picked your way around them. Despite your caution, you bumped the single pristine space of the computer desk. Three huge monitors sprung to life when the mouse jiggled from the impact, and they weren’t the only thing that was big.

The inoffensive screen saver with cutsey flower-headed comic characters had dissolved, revealing super busty art in progress on the center screen. Yeosang hastily moved to hide the drawing while you could not help but stare. It was not that the character was scantily clad so much as the skin-tight fantasy costume made it clear her massive, levitating breasts were supported by wishful thinking rather than an undergarment. In his ill-fated attempt to minimize the window, Yeosang instead activated the animation and now her chest undulated, breasts inexplicably bobbing slowly in opposite directions.

What a way to learn more about your neighbor. “I am sorry to have interrupted your, er, activity.”

Yeosang hid his face in his palms. Finally looking back up, but without making eye contact he offered, “Please believe me when I say I'm not into that. Someone with a chest like yours is far more attractive to me.” There was a visible cringe as he realized what had just tumbled from his mouth.

You let him squirm a little, listening to copious apologies before waving your hand to cut him off. “You are fine, I know what you meant. I find your chest more attractive than that too.”

The chuckle evoked by your own admission sounded like 'hehet.' Yeosang regained his composure then explained, “I work as a mobile game artist, among other things. This job is what pays the bills, but is not what brings meaning to my life.”

Sincerity shone through his tone, and you felt your heart soften for your neighbor. In any case, there was nothing wrong with being into beach ball sized breasts, it just was not something that worked on you. Feeling bad for Yeosang, you changed the topic to something less stressful. “I came over hoping for a neighborly favor. My pet sitter for this coming weekend fell through and I was wondering if you could fill the role.”

“Any other time I could do that for you, but I am traveling for work myself.” Your face fell, but Yeosang offered to be your first call next time. “The way I focus when drawing, I tend to keep to myself. I'm trying to be less reserved and could do with more neighbor interactions. Please do let me know another time if you need a check-in on whatever animal you have. I love mammals, amphibians, reptiles, fish, birds..., insects too. All good for drawing practice.” His enthusiasm was charming, and you could see yourself falling for your shy hallmate if given the chance.

“Two chinchillas, Cream Puff and Trogdor the Burninator.” At the raise of his eyebrows, you added, “Named by my nieces. Not much to draw but a circle, and you already seem to know how to draw those,” you teased with a glance to the monitors, “but you are welcome to come by any time to see my babies if you wanted to.”

Taking the joke well, Yeosang's grin answered your own, and you began to imagine maybe this could lead to something more in time. Of course that depended on knowing more about his stances on issues that were very important to you. It was early yet in what had not even developed into a friendship, and you intended to stay hopeful but realistic. At least, as much as you could in the presence of someone who so effortlessly looked ethereal as he passed over your mail and led you back out to the shared hallway.

Once in your own home you sank against the door and fanned yourself with what turned out to be junk mail. Though headed for the trash, it had given you the chance to get to know a little bit about your neighbor, despite the bumpy start, so you looked at it fondly. Your reverie was interrupted by a ping of the phone. Chattier than usual, it was a purely social message from Kang.

“Been meaning to ask you something. If we ever have the chance to meet in person, I'd like to take you out for a drink. What do you say?”

Giving in to the fantasy of his question, you replied positively. As long as you were daydreaming, what could it hurt? You did not even know if newly met Yeosang liked you back, so the attention from your co-worker made you feel good for the moment. “I could use a drink after the day I have had. Interesting but stressful, and I still don't have a pet sitter and time is running out since I leave for the work thing tomorrow.” Getting up off the floor, you headed to the refrigerator and rummaged around until unearthing a bottle of something alcoholic. Cider, beer, wine spritzer, whatever it was didn't particularly matter. You would fly more comfortably tomorrow if you made sure to relax this evening.

“My day is not off to a good start either.” An instant response. Again unlike Kang's more leisurely typed interactions. Caught up in conversation, you entertained each other for the next two hours. A lightweight when it came to drinking, you realized perhaps the alcohol had made you open up in a way you otherwise would not have done.

Thankfully your bags were already packed and you had no responsibilities other than getting the chinchillas sorted out. A quick text dashed off to your sibling got a yes that they would come pick them up for a little visit at their place in the care of the kids who had named them. That settled, you regretfully finished up your chat with Kang and showered before hitting bed.

Far too early, the clock radio sounded leading to a confused moment wondering why it had been set before dawn. Soon after, your phone started singing as the alarm titled 'Airport, Sleepyhead' showed on the screen. You were nothing if not predictable on these early mornings starting a day of travel. Thanking your alarm setting self for being so realistic about the support needed this morning, you dressed and wheeled the full suitcase out the door and into the waiting car provided by your publisher.

Once at the airport and through security you had time to enjoy a leisurely breakfast. The company you worked for was generous, but not so much that your business class ticket came with a meal. It probably wouldn't have been as good as what you were savoring now anyway. The egg croissant gooey with cheese was a favorite routine of yours when traveling. You munched while revisiting the texts from last night and became alarmed how revealing you had been. At least you had not declared love for the man, but you had been rather free with your feelings, disclosing to Kang things you had only previously talked over with someone as close as Seonghwa.

The lengthy plane ride was uneventful, but tiring nonetheless. Meeting you at the gate, Seonghwa enveloped you in a massive hug. Even waiting for your luggage was a joy because you were together again. It had been far too long. Best friends for years, you held nothing back while walking to his car. “You look fantastic. How is your love life? Anybody I need to know about?”

He struck a dramatic pose, licked his lips and answered, “Same as always, people are too intimidated by my godlike features.”

As vain as Seonghwa sounded, you knew it was all bluster and it made you laugh. It felt so good to be seeing each other in person again. Frequent video chats could not convey the full pleasure of being in his presence. Sure he was attractive, but it was more an aura of warmth and care that you had been missing. The ride to his home passed pleasantly and in no time at all he was unloading your suitcase from the car's storage and easily hefting it into the entryway.

“How about you? Made any progress telling your artist you have a crush on him yet?”

Seonghwa's question made you flinch as you settled on the couch. “How can I? He is my coworker. Besides, last night we were both a little tipsy as we chatted and he said he has his eye on his neighbor. I confessed a fondness for mine too and we bonded over it.” You put your head in your hands and groaned. “I can't believe I told him that.”

“You are smiling though, there must be more,” Seonghwa encouraged.

“We talk every day, and even without a clue what he looks like, I do think I am a little bit in love. It is not like he is a stranger. We have even compared ages so I know he is not a senior citizen. Turns out we were born the same year.” You sighed. “Kang has to be on the other side of the world though if the hours he keeps are any clue. We will probably never meet which is for the best anyway. For all I know he is that friendly with lots of people and I’m not that special.”

Seonghwa’s hand reached for yours gently. “You are special to me, and Kang would be a fool to miss out on such a good thing if he got a chance with you.”

His kind words took the slump out of your shoulders. It was a pity you had never been interested in Seonghwa romantically because he had a lot of traits you valued, but as he had just demonstrated, they were equally desirable in a friend. You had it good, even if your love life was going nowhere at the moment. “I might as well look locally. I discovered a cute neighbor just last night, but he is a little rough around the edges and I am not looking for a fixer-upper project. When I asked Yeosang about pet sitting I interrupted his busty digital maiden art project.”

Your friend straightened and looked alert. He asked incredulously, “Yeosang, as in the Yeosang?” Seonghwa pulled you from the couch, dragging you into his bedroom.

More than a little surprised, you joked, “I’m not that desperate that I want you, my dear.”

He stuck out his tongue playfully. “No, no, no. Look at this.”

Standing by the bed, you kept your eyes low. “I am afraid to look. Tell me instead, Seonghwa.”

Lifting your chin with a finger, he directed your gaze to the life size poster on the wall causing you to scoff at an impossibly buxom character with buoyant breasts.

With a withering look he continued. “The art on his computer, was it in this style?”

“Yeah, that looks similar, I guess, though I suspect Yeosang is not the only one to draw chests this big.” Squinting at the signature, it did indeed have the same name as your neighbor. Art wasn't your thing, if you could call this art, and you could not pick out stylistic similarities if your life depended on it.

Seonghwa looked ecstatic. “I’ll date him if you don’t want him. Yeosang is a legend.”

Rolling your eyes as your punched your friend lovingly, you shook your head while returning to the living room. Thankfully there was a spare room that was yours for the night. While you got along great with Seonghwa, the few differences in your tastes were dramatic and platonically sharing a bed was out of the question with art like that looming over you.

Feeling no shame, Seonghwa left you to recuperate from the plane as he bustled in the kitchen. Having moved to a later time zone, you yawned through the delicious meal then tucked down before dark knowing you would have more time together after the conference.

Bright and early you were met with a bedside tray of breakfast courtesy your thoughtful host. The enticing aroma of quality coffee made the task of waking up far more tolerable. Seonghwa left you to prepare for the day and returned some time later to announce your ride was outside. With a last look in the mirror to satisfy yourself readers would be meeting someone approximating a respectable author, you kissed Seonghwa's cheek and headed out.

When guided to your table at the venue, you seated yourself and started setting out comics for sale. The publisher had already done the important work of setting up the table including a showy banner with your name. So engrossed in preparations, it took a moment to realize someone had called out your name in a questioning voice. When you looked up, it was quite a surprise who it was.

Unable to place the man at first, the birthmark at his temple finally jogged your memory. “Yeosang?” You could not figure out what your neighbor was doing so far from home. Of course he must be attending the comics convention, but to be at this one multiple time zones away seemed too large a coincidence. Confused, all you could do was mumble, “General admission doesn’t open up for another half-hour.”

Before he could respond, a publicist came to the neighboring table with a sign you could not see from the other side. Yeosang shrugged. “I'm looking for an author friend who has a table here today. Seeing my neighbor here is an unexpected bonus. Congratulations on being an author. I had no idea. You will have to tell me what you write about sometime.” While his words said all the right things, it was clear his attention was elsewhere. Only someone so preoccupied would have missed the titles spread out on your table.

Rather abruptly, Yeosang returned to scanning the room. It looked like your neighbor was not a catch after all. It was probably for the best you had not gotten too attached to him yet. Still, given his good looks, a fling might have been fun, but even for that you had standards.

Finally resuming conversation Yeosang announced without context, “My full name seemed good for picture book work, filling the role of a pseudonym to keep it separate from my other art.” Looking down to your banner as he stood before it he added, “I see you have one yourself, that is not the name from your mail.”

“Yes, I took my mother's family name for professional use.” Finally coming to understand your newly met neighbor was here as a fellow author, it took a while to catch on that Yeosang had gone silent.

After a moment apparently buffering, the way his eyes widened hinted that he recognized the name on your display, that of the comic writer. You felt defensive as he began to chuckle, again in his unique 'hehet' way. Being accustomed to laughter when people learned you wrote a social justice comic still did not mean you were comfortable with the reaction.

“There is something I need to tell you.” Leaning in across the table, the name he whispered left you reeling. “When I hoped to see you today, I never dreamed we had met before. I'm Kang. Your Kang.” Pulling back as you were left momentarily breathless, he turned his desk sign into view with a grin. 'Meet Hehetmon and Friends Author/Illustrator Kang Yeosang' it proudly announced beside the charming flower-topped doodle character familiar from the screensaver at his apartment. Your furtive neighbor Yeosang was the very same person you worked with as Kang, and he had an unexpected sideline in literature for preschoolers.

“It really is you, isn't it? Here I was going to surprise my friend and co-worker once I learned we would be at the same event, and I got quite a surprise too.” Rounding his table and sliding into the folding chair at your side, Yeosang continued to make it very clear he was present as a professional, just like yourself. Gone was the momentarily suave voice from the identity reveal, replaced by a more enthusiastic one you recognized in tone if not sound from his text conversations over the past months. That familiarity helped you accept it really was Kang before you.

Yeosang took in a breath and apologized for the way he had first ignored you in favor of searching for the person who turned out to be you. “Meeting my collaborator, well, you, was the only thing I could think about. I hope my poor behavior is something you can come to forgive in time. This was a bad first impression.”

Knowing him as long as you had made it easier to overlook the slight. You could not imagine how out of it you would have been to know in advance your crush Kang was going to be here today. It took only a moment of thought to accept his apology and remind him that he had made a good first impression long ago.

Looking very relieved, Yeosang then changed the subject to something less stressful mentioning, “I travel a lot for work. The school presentations are my favorite.”

“You do that for our comic?”

“Actually no, though we could start doing that together if you like. It is for my Hehetmon characters. I have one picture book out and the publisher has asked for a series which could lead to a television show. If all that comes through, I can quit the other job.”

You looked aghast. Reaching for his hand you asked, “What would I do without you? The success of our work comes more from you than me. Your art carries the stories.”

Pulling away from your touch far too soon he corrected, “No, not that job,” as he waved his hands wildly. “The video game character you stumbled upon. I could quit illustrating that awful mobile game. You know, the ladies and their...,” he trailed off as he mimed substantial curves on his chest while you snickered.

Beginning again on more solid conversational footing, he counseled, “Don't sell yourself short. When a friend of mine at the publisher mentioned your socially conscious project, I jumped at the chance to join in. It was all your words selling me on the comic.”

You beamed at the compliment from the man you respected. In no time at all, you were talking like old friends because you were, just in writing alone up to this point. Yeosang reiterated he had known his collaborator would be here today, just with no clue you would be the same person as his neighbor. “That is why I asked the other night if we could ever go out together should we meet. I didn't think I could be brave enough face to face without knowing your response in advance. My original thought was for a friendly drink, but seeing you now confirms a real date would be my preference if you are open to that.”

It left you in awe that this forward but very desired approach was coming from the same person who had seemed so awkward in his apartment. You were stunned to think that all this time the man of your dreams lived not a world apart, but simply across the hall. The two of you had been typing away, deep in meaningful conversation mere meters from each other and never aware of it.

Yeosang seemed to take your pause as a decline. “If you don't want to socialize with a coworker I understand. I hope I did not make things awkward now that we are about to greet readers.”

Flashing a genuine smile, you gave the answer that a date with your friend was a welcome offer.

That settled, Yeosang appeared to relax and he happily made light conversation until convention goers trickled by your tables. It felt good to be side by side all day. There were even lulls in visitors giving you breaks to chat. Frequently you caught knowing smiles from Yeosang whenever someone complimented the artist you worked with or appeared with one of his drawings for the series on a shirt.

A few of your sharp-eyed readers questioned the name Kang at your side making you nod and contemplate aloud the non-answer of how common the name was. Certainly the simple Hehetmon character looked nothing like Yeosang's comic book illustrations to actually link the two identities despite the same family name on the covers.

While making polite conversation with your fans, you also kept an ear on his activity noting Yeosang deflected the well-meant admiration of his looks, and studiously ignored those attempting to flirt. At this point you could not tell if your friend was dense, immaculately professional, or disinterested in their attention. It took all your will power to squash the hope he might already have someone in mind he'd prefer that attention from.

Having kept a low-profile until now, Yeosang learned the glamorous life of a creator at a con included a simple box lunch to be eaten while working.

“This one is pretty good, as these things go,” you informed him between bites as you recuperated from the morning of socializing with fans.

He nodded, accepting your expertise. “I have been wondering,” he began hesitantly, “is tonight too soon for our date?”

You did not mind letting him see your eagerness, but he was turned down nonetheless. “I would take you up on it if I didn’t know I had the chance to see you again back home. Also, I am staying with a friend and want to make the most of our time together.”

“Oh. Together? Are you 'together' together?”

“Seonghwa?” The thought had you laughing. “No, he’ll be just right for somebody someday, but not me.” You leaned in closer, “Too tidy for my tastes. Besides, I have a crush on my neighbor across the hall, as well you know from our chat the other night.”

Yeosang's eyes widened. Pointing to himself, he asked, “So that neighbor you are into?”

“And you too referenced liking a neighbor,” you proudly reminded him. “Wait, so that embarrassing situation you mentioned when we talked for hours was me discovering your mobile game art?”

He busied himself making a close study of the floor while talking. “The very friend I confided in about my bad day was you. If only I had revealed details we would have known our identities sooner.” Looking back up he added, “I'll never live your visit down.”

You patted his shoulder consolingly. “If we end up a couple then it makes a great story. I truly would love to go on a real date later on. For now though, Seonghwa’s a fan of yours. Why don't you come to dinner with us as a surprise guest, as long as you promise not to fall for him.”

“If he’s only interested in my game designs then I wouldn’t. Not when I already have fallen for someone with far more depth.”

The way Yeosang held your eyes left you swooning for what would be the first of many times for the rest of your lives. Getting back into the mindset of interacting with fans for the afternoon was one of the most difficult things you had ever accomplished, and you hoped you did not make too poor a showing.

Over the dinner that followed, Yeosang was the only one on your mind, despite your good intentions for spending the final evening with your host. Seonghwa didn't mind third wheeling since he got the chance to meet the artist he admired. You'd have to thank him with a busty commission for his birthday from your own favorite, and local to you, illustrator.

The next morning was filled with goodbye hugs and promises to visit Seonghwa again soon before you headed to join Yeosang at the airport. Once he had discovered your flight home was the same, it took a little work, but your neighbor was able to move his seat to your side. Enthusiastically taking up the chance to get to know each other with uninterrupted face to face conversation, the early hours were spent talking animatedly.

By the time lunch was over, your developing romantic relationship had progressed to napping on each other, cuddled closely with the armrest up. There was a lot to be said for enjoying the company of your friend online, but meeting in person certainly had advantages too.

~

Yeosang Masterlist

General Masterlist

[dadbodosamu]

only you || part i

Stepdad Osamu x Fem!Reader

WARNINGS: pseudocest, stepcest, cheating, wombfucking, semi-public sex (in an alley), extremely light dumbification, breeding kink, spit kink, Osamu has a dick piercing

4.5k words. thanks to @waka-chan-out and @vanilleswtmacaron for beta reading this and reassuring me that it doesn’t suck lol

ao3 link here (aha its not too long mobile just sucks!!) part i || part ii || part iii || part iv || part v || part vi || extras || only you, too

You sighed as you tapped your fingers on the table. Your mom had decided it was high time for you to meet your new stepdad, who you had put off meeting for the past three years. You smiled as you remembered the perfectly timed appendicitis that had you missing the wedding. You couldn’t have planned it better if you tried. 

Your dad had only passed away a little under four years ago, leaving your mom to remarry only six months later. You’d opted to live with your grandmother, citing her health as a reason to live with her on her farm. Your plan had worked perfectly, and you hadn’t had to meet Osamu for three years.

Now though, with your grandmother in the hospital, your mom thought it was a great time for you to come and visit and finally meet the great Osamu.

“Osamu should be home any minute,” your mom said, smiling happily over the takoyaki she was making. “He’s bringing your favourite!”

“Yay,” you said, unenthusiastically. You glanced at the time on your phone. You were almost wishing Osamu to be here so you wouldn’t have to spend another awkward second with your mom.

You and your mom hadn’t been close to begin with, you always being a daddy’s girl from the day you were born. And after remarrying so quickly, you’d drifted even further apart. At this point, you had nothing to speak to her about.

“I’m home!” Someone called. The door slid shut behind them and you glanced around, waiting for them to appear in the kitchen. “And I brought umeboshi onigiri!”

The man who stepped into the kitchen nearly knocked you out of your seat.

He was handsome. Devastatingly, heartachingly, handsome. He was tall, with brown hair and deep grey eyes, and thick. His t-shirt was pulled taut over his broad shoulders and his thighs in his shorts were almost indecent. 

The next thing you noticed was that he was young. Probably only a handful of years older than your twenty-one, definitely closer to your age than your mom’s.

God, why had you put this meeting off? Had you known your mom was married to an actual god, you would’ve actually visited.

“Hey, honey,” your mom greeted, smiling at him. Your stomach twisted as she leaned over, puckering her lips for a kiss. Osamu pecked her lips quickly and turned towards you.

“Hey, I’m Osamu,” he greeted, smiling widely at you. Your heart skipped. “I heard ya like umeboshi onigiri so I made you some.”

“Th-thank you,” you stuttered. “I’m Y/n. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to finally meet ya,” Osamu said. “Was starting to think ya were avoiding me!”

“More like she was avoiding me,” your mom said. “She was always a daddy’s girl.”

“Oh?” Osamu asked, looking at you. Your cheeks burned. “Well, I’d never try to replace yer dad, but if ya ever need some daddy/daughter time, I’m here for ya.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something stupid. 

“I really appreciate that,” you said. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you two are getting along already!” Your mom squealed. She carried the takoyaki to the table and smiled as she sat down. “Dinner is finally ready.”

“Itadakimasu,” you mumbled, already loading your plate up with onigiri and the other food on the table. 

“So, how is university going?” Your mom asked. 

You shrugged as you slurped up some noodles. “It’s going. Made nationals.”

“Oh? What sport do ya play? I don’t think yer mom ever mentioned,” Osamu said. You rolled your eyes. Of course she hadn’t mentioned volleyball, it wasn’t like you’d been playing since elementary school or anything.

“Volleyball,” you said. “I was on the Niiyama girls team in high school. Hoping to go pro after uni.”

“Volleyball? I played in high school! My brother, Atsumu, and I were on the Inarizaki team,” Osamu exclaimed. 

“Not Miya Atsumu, right?” You asked, excitedly. “MSBY Black Jackals Miya Atsumu?”

“The very one!” Osamu said.

“No way! They’re my favourite team! I have a signed poster in my room, it’s my prized possession!” I exclaimed. “I heard a few members are going to the Olympics this year.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me she plays volleyball,” Osamu said, glancing at your mom.

“Must’ve slipped my mind,” your mom said.

“We should go to a game sometimes,” Osamu said. “I can get an extra ticket to the MSBY, Adlers game later this week.”

“That sounds great!” You said, smiling widely.

Your mom ate in relative silence as you and Osamu traded stories about your volleyball times, only ever inputting something every once in a while. After dinner, Osamu found a Sendai Frogs match. 

“I’m currently in the nation’s top 3 setters,” you said, proudly. “I’m number two behind Takao Michi.”

“I’ll have to start coming to yer games,” Osamu said. “See ya in action.”

“I’d like that,” you said, honestly. 

“Why don’t ya come to work with me tomorrow? I can introduce ya to a few of my friends that are in town,” Osamu said.

“Absolutely,” you said.

“Don’t get me wrong though, I’m putting ya to work while yer there,” Osamu said. Your mom yawned.

“You all have me worn out from all this volleyball talk,” she said. “I’m going to bed.”

“Night, mom,” you said as she stood up.

“Osamu?” She questioned, turning back to glance at him.

“Oh, we’re going to stay up a bit longer,” he said. “The Schweinden Adlers have a match after the Frogs.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. You could hear the disappointment in her voice.

Osamu waited until you heard the bedroom door click shut before speaking.

“I know this is probably too much information about yer mom but she must think I’m some sex robot,” Osamu said, huffing. “A guy can only do so much.”

You crinkled your nose. “Gross, I did not need to know that.” You tried to hold steady but laughter bubbled up through your lips. Osamu laughed loudly and you joined him, holding your gut with how hard you were laughing.

“We need- we need to be- to be quiet!” Osamu laughed. “She’s trying to- tryin’ to sleep.”

You giggled a few more times before quieting down.

“So, how old are ya?” Osamu asked, standing up. “Old enough for a beer?”

“I’m twenty-one,” you said. “Old enough for a beer.”

“We got wine coolers if ya would rather have that,” Osamu said, stepping into the kitchen.

“Please,” you said. “So, how old are you? Can’t help but notice you’re quite a bit younger than my mom.”

“Twenty-five, twenty-six in October,” he said, grabbing a beer and a wine cooler out of the fridge.

“Follow up question,” you said, “and I don’t mean any offence, I’m sure she’s great in some ways, but why my mom? I mean, surely there’s no shortage of people your age that are wanting you.”

Osamu took a long drink from his beer before answering. “Ask me after I’ve drunk a few of these.”

You pursed your lips and took a sip of your fruity drink. “Fine,” you said. “Then let’s play a game. Every time the Adlers score, I’ll ask you a question and every time the Tachibana Red Falcons score, you get to ask me a question.”

“Deal,” Osamu said.

“Oh! Score!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up. “Another untouchable spike by Ushiwaka!”

“Shush, yer mom,” Osamu giggled. You rolled your eyes and chugged the rest of your fifth drink.

“You shush, it’s my turn,” you said, plopping down on the couch next to Osamu. “So, now tell me,” You hiccupped. “My bad. Now tell me, why my mom? Why not someone your age? Because I’m gonna- I’m gonna be honest, you’re hot and my mom is, like, she’s not, like, ugly, but, like, she’s, like, fifty.”

“I could just like cougars,” Osamu teased. You rolled your eyes and popped the top on your next drink.

“Tell the, the truth, ‘Samu,” you slurred. 

“Fine, but this stays between us, as best friends,” he said.

“Bee ef efs,” you slurred.

“Yer mom helped fund my restaurant,” he said. “So, I felt bad. She’s so nice and sweet. So, I married her.”

“Now you have a step kid that’s only four years younger than you,” you said. 

“Yeah, she didn’t really mention ya before we got married,” he said. Osamu leaned in close to you. “She didn’t mention how attractive ya were either.”

Your cheeks flushed. You turned your head away from him, looking back to the television.

“Oh, Falcons scored,” you said. “It’s your turn to ask a question.”

Osamu took a sip of his beer before speaking. “Why have ya been avoidin’ yer mom?”

You took a large gulp from your drink. “I haven’t been avoiding her,” you lied. Osamu blinked at you slowly. 

“Fine, fine!” You exclaimed. You sipped from your drink, then responded, “Mainly because she remarried so quickly after Dad died. And to someone only four years older than me. But we’ve never been close. She and I never really saw eye-to-eye. She was the love of my dad’s life and he was just another guy to her. Not to mention, she’s never been remotely interested in anything in my life, she’s always been so self-absorbed. I doubt she even knew I still played volleyball, that’s probably why she didn’t mention it to you.”

Osamu stayed silent as you chugged the remainder of your drink.

“I know it’s probably not comforting, but I’ll be there for ya if ya need me,” Osamu said. “Even if yer mom and I separate, I consider ya a friend now.”

Osamu’s words were oddly comforting. You nodded as you reached for yet another wine cooler. 

“I’m oddly comforted,” you said, popping the top easily. You fiddled with the top, thinking of what to say next.

“Another Falcons score,” Osamu said. “My turn again.”

“Question away,” you said. 

“Can’t think of any,” Osamu said. He yawned.

“Tired already?” You teased, elbowing him in the side. “Old man.”

“I’m twenty-five,” he argued, yawning again. “But I am going to bed. Let’s call a rain check on our game.”

“Deal,” you said, raising your bottle to him. “Might as well go to bed, too. Night, Samu.”

“Night, Y/n,” Osamu said, standing up. He stretched out before padding down the hallway to your mom’s room. 

You sighed loudly once you heard the door click shut. You gulped down your drink. “Good going, Y/n. You finally found a guy you like and he’s your stepdad.”

You finished your drink before gathering all the empty bottles and cans, throwing them in the recycling before walking towards your room. You collapsed onto your unmade bed and passed out before your head hit the pillow. 

“Two salted salmon onigiri,” you said, placing the plate in front of the professional volleyball player. “And onion soup.”

“Go ahead and join them,” Osamu said, placing a few plates on the same table. “I’ll bring you out some umeboshi onigiri.”

“Thanks,” you said. You could barely contain your excitement as you took a seat between Miya Atsumu and Bokuto Koutarou.

“So, yer a setter?” Atsumu asked, taking a bite of his onigiri. You nodded.

“Number two in the nation,” you said.

“She’s better than you were, Tsumu!” Hinata Shoyo exclaimed. You smiled widely.

“In high school, I was ranked number one under nineteen in my second and third years,” you said. “I even got to play in the junior Olympics in high school. We only won silver, though.”

“We’re playing the Olympics this year,” Bokuto said. “And a few of our friends from the Adlers.”

“Kageyama Tobio, Ushijima Wakatoshi, and Hoshimiumi Kourai?” You asked. “I’ve been keeping up with everyone considered for the Olympics.”

“Maybe you’ll be playing in the next Olympics,” Sakusa said. 

“That’s the goal,” you said, smiling. Osamu set a plate in front of you. “Thank you.”

“So our little star setter is here for the next week,” Osamu said, placing a strong hand on your shoulder. “We should play a game while she’s down, see how good she really is.”

“I’m game!” Bokuto exclaimed. “I wanna see those number two in the nation skills!”

“Probably nowhere near the level of you guys,” you said.

“We do have a few years on ya,” Atsumu said, ruffling your hair. 

“Literally only four,” you said, fixing your hair.

“Leave the kid alone, Tsumu,” Osamu said.

“Hey, she’s my niece now, I reserve the right to tease her,” Atsumu said.

“Uncle Tsumu,” you teased.

“That’s right, Uncle Tsumu and Daddy Samu,” Atsumu said. 

Your stomach flipped as the MSBY boys laughed. Osamu looked down at you and winked. You clenched your thighs together.

“All right, quiet down before ya disturb my payin’ guests,” Osamu said. 

“Lunch on Samu-kun!” Hinata exclaimed. Osamu rolled his eyes.

“Once yer finished, I want ya back in the kitchen,” Osamu said. He rubbed your back before walking into the kitchen.

“So, you plan on going professional after university?” Bokuto asked.

You nodded as the table fell into casual conversation.

“I already have offers to go play in France and Brazil,” you said, taking a bite of your onigiri.

“Brazil is fantastic,” Hinata said. “I played there for a while.”

“You liked it? I’ve been debating back and forth between the two. Can’t decide which one I would enjoy more,” you said. “Does Brazil have good food?”

“The best! Unless you’re looking for Japanese food,” Hinata said. “There’s no good Japanese food.”

“Noted,” you said, smiling.

“What are you studying in school?” Sakusa asked.

“Education,” you said. “If volleyball doesn’t work out I want to teach Japanese in another country.”

“Smart,” Sakusa said.

“So, any boyfriends? Girlfriends? Significant others?” Atsumu asked.

You laughed. “With what time?”

“Oh, come on, there has to be someone!” Atsumu exclaimed. “We all find time for a lil’ somethin’.”

“There was a girl,” you admitted. “On my volleyball team, but we both cared more about volleyball than each other.”

“Any crushes?” Bokuto asked. He winked at you and flexed his arms playfully.

You pursed your lips. “And why should I tell you if I do?”

“Because we’re all best friends now!” Hinata shouted, slamming his hand on the table. He ignored the looks from the other customers.

“There is this guy I have my eye on,” you said. “He’s tall, nice, and beefy as hell.”

“Ooo, tell us more,” Bokuto said.

You shook your head. “No use talking about him. He’s strictly off limits.”

“He’s gay,” Atsumu said, nodding his head.

“What?! No!” You laughed. “He’s taken.”

“Ah, university relationships aren’t always serious, you can probably still get him,” Hinata said, waving away your worries.

“He’s married,” you said. The boys all hissed in sympathy.

“Ask for a threesome,” Atsumu said. Your face must’ve shown your disgust because the boys all laughed at you.

“She must be ugly,” Bokuto said.

“We don’t get along the best,” you said. You sighed as you looked down at your empty plate.

“Better get to work before Daddy Samu grounds you,” Atsumu teased.

You rolled your eyes, but stood up. 

“It was nice meeting you guys,” you said. “I hope we can get a game together before I leave.”

“Oh, we definitely will,” Bokuto said.

“I’ll hold you to it,” you said, smiling. You waved bye to them as you entered the kitchen.

Osamu was leaned over the stove top, stirring a large pot of soup.

“Have fun?” He asked, wiping sweat off his brow with the towel thrown over his shoulder. You nodded.

“They were all super nice,” you said. “I feel like we’re actually friends now.”

“That’s good,” Osamu said, smiling at you. “Ya wanna start putting together a couple of onigiri?”

“No problem,” you said, washing your hands quickly. 

“We need five salted salmon and three umeboshi,” Osamu said. “And then out to table three.”

“Got it,” you said.

The rest of the day went by relatively quickly and smoothly. It was finally around midnight when the last customers finally left and you and Osamu could close down shop.

“Come into my office and I’ll show you how to count all the money,” Osamu said, locking the main doors. 

You followed him into his small office. 

“Okay, whenever you count the money, make sure the door is closed and locked behind you,” Osamu said, closing the door behind him. 

You held your breath as he slowly slid past you, your chest brushing against his.

“A lil’ cramped in here, sorry,” Osamu said, sitting at his desk.

“It’s fine,” you mumbled, sitting in the folding chair next to him.

“So, d’ya have a good day?” Osamu asked, casually thumbing through bills.

You nodded. “It was good! It was nice meeting your friends. I really liked them.”

“Ooo, any of ‘em catch yer eye?” Osamu teased. You rolled your eyes.

“I already have my eye on someone,” you said.

“Oh?” Osamu questioned.

“He’s taken though,” you said. “Strictly off limits.”

“Ask for a threesome,” he said.

You laughed loudly. “Funny, Atsumu said the same thing. But no, I don’t get along with his wife.”

“Wife? That sucks,” he said, placing a wad of cash in an envelope. 

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Well, I, for one, think yer a catch,” Osamu said, sealing the envelope. “Anyone would be lucky to have ya.”

“Thanks, Samu,” you said, face burning. He patted your thigh.

“Anytime, princess,” Osamu said. You clenched your thighs together at the new nickname. “Well, we’re all done here, let’s get home.”

You trailed after him like a lost puppy as he double checked all the appliances were off and flipping the lights off.

You shivered as you stepped into the cool, night air. 

“Cold?” Osamu asked, already peeling off his Onigiri Miya hoodie.

“Yeah, a little,” you said, gladly taking the hoodie from him. You tugged it over your head and breathed deeply. “Smells good. Half expected it to smell like onigiri.”

“It will soon,” Osamu said, smiling. “It’s new. Just got the shipment in last week.”

“I’ll have to get one,” you said.

“Keep it,” Osamu said. “Ya look cute in it.”

You blushed deeply. You bumped his shoulder with yours gently.

“It’s like, way too big,” you said.

Osamu shrugged. “Oversized is in. Besides, I thought girls loved to steal guys’ hoodies.”

“Yeah, guys they like,” you said.

“Well, ya took it from me,” Osamu said, bumping your shoulder. “Ya must like me a little.”

“Whatever,” you said, cheeks burning. Osamu laughed.

“Someone has a crush!” He sang.

“Shut up! I don’t have a crush on you,” you said.

“Ya did call me hot last night,” he said.

“I was drunk, so it doesn’t count,” you said. He rolled his eyes obnoxiously.

“Ya have a crush on me, just admit it,” Osamu said. “I won’t tell anyone, pinky promise.”

“You’re my stepdad, in case you forgot,” you replied. “That’s basically incest, isn’t it?”

“So ya admit it?” Osamu asked. You shoved him playfully.

“I actually have a crush on Atsumu,” you said. “He’s the hotter twin.”

Osamu pushed you into an alley and caged you against the cool bricks of a building.

“Oh?” Osamu said. “Ya think Atsumu is the hotter twin?”

You nodded slowly as Osamu looked down at you.

“It’s the hair,” you squeaked.

“Oh, yeah, forgot that girls love a guy who doesn’t know what toner is,” Osamu said, leaning down. “I think yer lying.” His nose was nearly touching yours.

“I’m not,” you mumbled. Osamu’s hands moved from either side of your head to your hips. 

“You are,” Osamu whispered, lips brushing against your ear. You shivered.

“And if I am?” You asked.

“I don’t like bad girls,” Osamu said. “Lying is grounds for punishment.”

“Punishment?” You asked.

“I’d bend ya over my knee and spank ya until ya begged for mercy,” he said. You sucked in a sharp breath.

“It’s a good thing I’m not lying, then,” you said. By now, Osamu’s lips were nearly against yours, so close you could feel the heat from his breath on your lips.

Osamu ground his hips against yours, firmly pressing his hard on against you.

You bit your lip and glanced down. His cock was straining against his jeans, eager to be released.

“Tell the truth and I’ll think about not putting ya over my knee,” Osamu said, lips softly brushing against yours. 

“You’re the hotter twin,” you said, putting your arms around his neck. “And I have a crush on you. And I want you to fuck me in this alley.”

“There we go,” Osamu said. He finally kissed you roughly, like he wanted to devour you. You moaned as he ground against you.

“Samu,” you moaned, pulling back. He wasted no time, kissing down your neck, sucking and biting at your sensitive skin.

“Been thinkin’ about pushin’ this lil’ skirt up all day,” he growled, pushing your skirt up around your waist, revealing the pretty pink lace of your underwear. 

“Please,” you gasped as he shoved his jeans and underwear down, releasing his cock. You nearly moaned at the sight of it, long and thick and leaking precum from the swollen tip.

“Gonna wreck this cute little cunt,” Osamu said, tugging your underwear down and letting them fall to the ground. He dragged the tip of his cock through your wet folds, teasing your clit and hole.

“Is- Is that a piercing I feel?” You asked, feeling cool metal against your warm folds.

“I’ll give ya a closer look later,” he said, teasingly pushing the tip in and out of your hole. “Wanna be in ya now.”

“Fill me up, please, Samu,” you begged, digging your fingernails into his skin. Your walls fluttered around nothing as he lifted you up. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Good girl,” he muttered, lining his cock up with your hole. “Beg for my cock, princess.”

“Please, please, please!” You cried. “Want your cock in me, need it! Please, Samu, want you to fill me up.”

“Of course, baby girl, anything for my princess,” Osamu said, kissing you softly. He rutted his hips up into you, stretching you out suddenly.

You moaned loudly and let your head fall on Osamu's broad shoulder. 

“So big,” you moaned. “Hurts.”

“Shh, shh, yer takin’ me so well, baby,” Osamu said. “Squeezin’ me so tight, wanna bust just bein’ in ya.”

You whimpered as Osamu slowly pulled out. He pushed back in slowly, giving you time to adjust to each inch. Your walls clenched around him, sucking him in deeper and deeper until the swollen tip was kissing your cervix.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Gonna ruin ya.” Osamu pulled out until just the tip was in and slammed back into you.

You gasped loudly as his cock breached your cervix, going deeper than anything had ever been in you and stretching you more than anything ever had.

“Samu!” You cried, throwing your head back and digging your nails into the nape of his neck. “Fuck, harder, please!”

“Feel that, baby? I’m so deep in ya,” Osamu said. “Fuckin’ past your cervix, yeah?”

You nodded as you bit back your moans as Osamu pounded into you. You buried your head into his shoulder and bit down, quieting your too loud moans.

“Next time, ‘m gonna have ya somewhere ya can be loud as ya want,” Osamu grunted. “Wanna hear yer pretty, little moans.”

You let out a soft moan in his ear and he snapped his hips up harder into you.

“Ah, Samu,” you moaned, struggling to keep your volume down. “Gonna cum.”

He pinched your clit as you gushed around his cock. You looked down to where your bodies met and watched as your juices leaked down his cock, dripping on his heavy balls. You moaned.

“Gonna fill ya up, baby,” he growled lowly. “Come ‘ere.”

He pulled your head up by your hair and squeezed your cheeks until your mouth fell open, tongue lolling out. He gathered spit in his mouth and spat it on your waiting tongue.

“Don’t swallow,” he said. He kissed you deeply, licking into your mouth and sucking your tongue. He kissed you messily, spit running down your chin and a thin strand of it connecting you two when he finally pulled back. 

“Such a messy, little slut,” he said, slamming his hips against yours. “Taking my spit so well. Gonna take my cum like that?”

You nodded, unable to speak beyond gasps and moans as his cock abused your cunt.

“Can’t speak? Fucked ya dumb, huh?” Osamu asked. He chuckled. “My cock makin’ ya dumb, little baby?”

You whined. God, you wanted him to fill you up so bad. 

“Cum. Inside.” You gasped out.

“Oh? Want me t’ breed ya? Make ya big and swollen with my baby?” Osamu asked, hips moving faster.

You nodded furiously. He rubbed your clit in tight, fast circles.

“Cream ‘round my cock one more time, baby,” he grunted. 

“Samu!” You exclaimed. Your stomach tightened as your walls fluttered like crazy.

“Yeah? Gonna cum again for me?” Osamu asked. You let out a high pitched moan as the coil in your stomach snapped.

“Fill me up, please!” You moaned as you came. Osamu’s hips stuttered as he pushed into you deeply before painting your womb white. You cried out, letting your head rest against his shoulder as he moaned.

“Fuck, yer still so tight around my cock,” he hissed. Your walls fluttered. “Perfect little cunt, princess. Milkin’ me dry like a good girl.”

You whimpered as he slowly pulled out. Your legs went limp, falling from his waist.

“Can’t stand,” you mumbled, legs shaking with the weak attempt you made. Osamu held you up as he pulled his pants back up and pulled your panties back on.

“Come here, baby,” he said, swooping you up bridal style. “Let’s go home, princess.”

You nodded lamely as he carried you. You must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing you heard was Osamu talking to your mother.

“She was practically dead on her feet,” Osamu said. “Fell asleep while I was counting the money.”

“You could’ve called, I would’ve brought the car,” your mom said. You felt Osamu shrug.

“It was no problem,” Osamu said. 

“Well, go lay her down in her bed,” your mom said. “Then maybe she’ll be out for the rest of the night.” You frowned at her suggestive tone and cuddled deeper into Osamu’s chest.

“I’ll go lay her down,” Osamu said. He carried you down the hall and entered your bedroom carefully.

As he laid you down, you grabbed his arm and whined, “Don’t go.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered. “I gotta go to my own bed.”

“Don’t- Don’t fuck her,” you mumbled. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, princess,” he said, softly brushing your hair out of your face. “It’s only you from now on.” You nodded. Osamu kissed your forehead before leaving you alone.

You blinked once, twice, before you were asleep.

[sinswithpleasure]

The Playgirl (ft. LOONA's Yves) [Part 1] [Female Reader]

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

This was supposed to be a lengthy oneshot, but I wanna have it out as I write, so... here's Part 1! Just so you know, it's futa!Yves, but I won't really mention it until at least Part 3.

Also, this is entirely female reader!

Can be found on AFF and AO3!

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

Everyone knows of Ha Sooyoung.

Most know her by her preferred name Yves, but it is the same either way—the people still have her deeply imprinted in the recesses of their minds. After all, who doesn't know of the campus fuckgirl that only goes for girls?

You are no exception to having knowledge of Sooyoung. After all, she is your seatmate for every class you had, and while she is regularly absent, she is a regular hindrance when present. During lectures, she likes to fling paper balls at unsuspecting classmates, flirt with any female classmate or TA, or play games on her mobile phone loudly. The fact that she is your seatmate only makes it worse, considering she has her feet on the table most of the time.

Now you have to tutor her. The bane of your existence. Ha Sooyoung. Yves. Tutor. Tutor her.

Your look of disbelief meeting your professor's determined gaze melts into a sigh of resignation. You know that no amount of whining or pouting would result in a win for you—Yves had the poorest performance, barely scraping through any of her tests, whereas you aced every test given during your course of study. It would only be natural for you to be tutoring her.

Yves flashes a smirk and wink from the front row of the lecture theatre, giving you a two-fingered salute as the professor leaves.

"Hey, babygirl. Guess you're my new tutor."

"Hi." You cannot help but let bitterness seep into your tone, but you bite down on the bullets you wish to fire.

"You don't seem that happy."

"No, but it's fine. Let's get down to business."

"Uh-uh, not today. I've got a party to get to. How about this, give me your phone."

You hesitantly pass her your phone, and she enters her number in.

"Call me." She flashes another smirk and a wink, pushing her hair back. The phone in your hand displays 'yves 💘'.

-----

When you call Yves, you hear more of the chatter in the background than her voice. However, she is still audible, and that is all you need.

"Hello?"

"Sooyoung. I'll tutor you beginning tomorrow."

"Oh, it's you, babygirl. Sure, see you after class?"

Huh. That was easy.

"Good, please bring along the Calculus textbook—"

Indistinct chatter rings across the line, and you vaguely hear the crowd chanting "Drink! Drink! Drink!" before Yves's voice cuts through the line again.

"Sorry, babygirl, I've got to jet. I ain't gonna win this game of beer pong talkin' to you. See you tomorrow."

Before you can even say anything, the call is cut. You take a deep breath, deciding to let it go. Maybe this would be the only time. After all, innocent until proven guilty, right?

With a long exhale, you throw yourself back into whatever work you were doing.

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

When Yves appears after class, she staggers into the classroom, clutching her head.

"Fuck, I shouldn't have drank that much last night."

She crashes on the chair next to you, immediately folding her arms on the table, resting her head on it. Her eyes open blearily when you request for her to take her Calculus textbook out.

"I didn't bring it."

You halt, frustration beginning to build.

"I thought I told you to bring it."

"Well, babygirl, I forgot. Looks like we can't do this today then." Yves rises, staggering towards the door. Repeated calls of her name fall on her deaf ears as she rounds the corner and disappears.

You take a deep breath. Tomorrow.

-----

[You sent a message:]

Yves

Tomorrow, after class.

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Hey babygirl

I've got a party tomorrow.

[You sent a message:]

You're ditching your grades for a party?

A party in the afternoon?

[yves💘 sent a message:]

Come on, live a little, it's fun to cut loose!

Yeah, I need to go set it up.

Wanna come?

[You sent a message:]

I'd rather spend my time productively, thank you. I expect to see you after class. The same place.

-----

Yves is absent again from class. Naturally, she is absent from the tutoring session. Every call you make to her goes unanswered throughout the afternoon.

You hate this. It wasn't as if tutoring her was a choice you made—the professor shunted the task to you, even after all your protests and reasoning for why you shouldn't take the job. The impression that she gives off already isn't anything good, and the fact that she actively is wasting your time only pisses you off even more.

The fact that Yves is your seatmate only adds to the frustration. Her shoes are all up in your face, the sounds of her games in your ears, her paper balls all over your table. Everything she did just pissed you off.

When you reach home, you immediately drop a call to Yves. Three rings of the phone is all it takes before she picks up the phone.

"Hey babygirl."

"Don't babygirl me. Where were you this afternoon?"

"I told you, I had a party."

"So you choose to waste my time?"

"Sorry, babe." The lack of sincerity is evident in her voice. "This is clearly more fun."

"You prioritize fun over your grades? Are you trying to fail?"

"Yo, yo, chill, chill! Cut me some slack! Take it easy. I've got time!"

"The final exams are less than half a year away."

"Precisely." Yves's smirk can be heard through the phone. "I have time."

"I don't. Stop wasting my time. Come tomorrow."

"Oh, fiery. Just my type." Yves chuckles, before she pisses you off even further. "I'll see you, just not tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"I'll be busy nursing my hangover. Ciao." The call is cut.

You growl in frustration, squeezing the pen in your hand tightly. How easily she dismisses you only serves to fuel your anger. How could someone give no shits about their future?

Yves was basically the opposite of what you stood for. To you, school was an obligation—something necessary in order to move forward and succeed. This meant that people had to possess the responsibility to keep to this commitment so they could succeed in life. The future is uncertain, so you should make every effort to ensure that you can forge a path that is as certain as it can be.

Yves, however, treated school like a waste of time. To be out having fun mattered more—life and the future is uncertain, so if she could afford the time to live in the moment, then she would take the time to. Why pressure oneself to engineer perfection when imperfection is how the world runs?

This was a constant argument between the both of you when Yves was present in school. On the days she came, you had to fight to pay attention to your professor since the both of you would argue. You hated having to defend your point of view against her, since she was deeply set in her contrasting view. You hate how carefree she is. How is it that someone can live without worrying that much?

When you let your vision focus, you take a deep breath and go back to your work.

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

You are ten minutes early for class. Chatter fills the classroom as per usual. When you reach your seat, your ears perk up at a familiar name.

"... you hear Yves took her home last night?"

"... sex … fucked her the whole night … best time of her life …"

You scowl. Even when she wasn't present, you had to hear about her, and even worse, her womanizing and hedonistic lifestyle. Who cares about her?

"Good morning, babygirl."

The bane of your existence appears before your very eyes, leaning over your desk with her signature smirk. You give her a glare, but not before you fail to resist checking her out.

Yes, she is admittedly hot. But insufferable. But hot. Facts are facts.

Her hair slicked back, check. Leather jacket, check. Fishnets and crop top fitting her… appealing chest, check. Tight pants that fit her figure, check. Fuck, she looks so good.

"My eyes are up here." Yves pushes your head up to meet her gaze with a finger. The smug smirk on her face makes you want to slap it off her. "If you want me, all you have to do is ask."

"Why're you here?"

"Someone who places such importance in school doesn't want her seatmate present? I'm hurt, babe."

"Fuck off. Don't touch me." You shift away from her touch, and Yves grins.

"I came to see you, my favourite tutor. You're interesting."

"Put that interest in your studies."

"No, I don't think I will, not when you're this pretty."

You try to fight the blush that appears on your face, but it seems that you fail—Yves's cocky grin only gets bigger when she reclines in her chair, resting her feet on the table.

This is your second year with Yves as a seatmate. The girl next to you somehow managed to scrape past first year, and now here she is, staring at you with an amused smirk, annoying you just as she had since Day 1.

"Y'know, I mean it when I say you're pretty."

"Thank you." You grit your teeth, though how red your face remains betrays your hidden feelings. After all, girls don't really compliment you that often, let alone a hot one like Yves is.

"Mm, you're welcome." Yves smiles, resting her head on her chair. "I'll depend on your tutoring, babygirl. Goodnight."

"You're going to sleep?"

"Yep. I'll just listen attentively to you later, cutie."

"I would prefer it if you paid attention now."

"What, and stare at the prof's ugly mug? Why would I do that when I can take the time to stare at your beautiful face instead?"

"Fuck off."

"Ooh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?" Yves's grin shows how little offense she takes at your rebuttal. "I like you, baby."

You decide to ignore Yves. Ignore how she easily infuriates you. Ignore how hot she is. Ignore the compliments that make heat rise from your cheeks and neck.

Insufferable.

-----

Yves takes a long time to rise from her slumber. You try to shake her, but Yves remains steadfastly asleep on her chair.

"Yves. Wake up."

"Mmnnngggh."

"Wake up, wake up."

"Five more minutes."

"No." You heave a sigh. "Wake. Up."

"Fine, fine, babygirl. You're such a killjoy."

"Do not 'babygirl' me. Let's start."

You pull out your Calculus textbook. Yves halfheartedly pulls hers out as well, and you flip both books to a summary exercise.

"Do these. I need to know your current ability."

"Only because you're pretty, babygirl." Yves picks up her pen, beginning to work on the questions.

-----

"How are you getting all these wrong?"

Your tutee shrugs, leaning back on her chair. "Who cares?"

"I do! You're going to fail."

"Aw babygirl, you do care about me."

"Shut the fuck up. There's so much work I need to do with you."

"Meh, whatever." Yves stretches in her chair, leaning back to close her eyes. "Do your magic, tutor. Teach me."

"Fine. Let's begin."

-----

Both you and Yves part ways at the gate of the campus. After a tense session involving multiple arguments when Yves used more of her phone than to attempt learning anything you were teaching, or when she started to look up girls on Tinder, you gave up and halted the session.

"See you soon, babygirl."

"Fuck you."

"Anytime, babe. You just have to ask."

"Fuck off."

"Calm down. It's not like we don't have time."

"We don't."

"Not with that attitude."

"Fuck your attitude."

Yves only grins when she hears your reply.

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

Another tutoring session, another Yves absence. This time, when you call her, you're met with the obscene sounds of Yves engaging in sexual intercourse.

"Hey babygirl."

"Yves. Where are—huh?"

Wet smacks echo loudly through the speaker on your phone. Someone moans on the other side. Regular thumps ring through your speakers.

"I'm a little busy now, baby."

"Wha—what the fuck?"

"As you can hear, I'm busy fucking someone. Bye."

The dial tone that enters your ears almost makes you smash your phone on the table to pieces. You instead settle on smashing your fist against the table instead.

This is the last straw.

-----

The next time you see Yves, you pin her against the wall. Taken by surprise, Yves finds herself in a position she usually puts others into. Smirking, she relents.

"Didn't take you to be so forward."

"This is the last fucking time I'm taking your shit. I've had it with your constant excuses about parties, or whatever. Now, you choose to go fuck some bitch even when you know you have stuff to do. I'm fucking done. I quit."

"Come on, don't be like that, baby." Yves's cocky grin widens. "Maybe I need some more motivation."

"If having your life planned out isn't motivating enough, nothing will work."

"Oh, but I had this wonderful idea…"

You resist taking the bait, but having Yves pinned against the wall fucks with your judgement.

"What?"

Today, Yves is clad in all black leather. Whatever she's wearing doesn't catch your eye—the fact that your face is so close to Yves's flusters you. The same slicked back hair, scarlet lipstick across her kissable lips, a cocky glint in her eye, catching your gaze before traveling down to your lips, then below…

"I've seen the way you look at me, babygirl. You say you hate me, but all I see in your eyes is lust right now. You want me so bad, don't you?"

"Sh-shut the fuck up." You curse at the slight stutter.

"So how about this? I'll be the best student you'll ever have, and if I ace the exams at the end of the year… hmm."

Yves lets her voice trail off, knowing she has your full attention.

"What the fuck do you want?'

"If I ace the exams, I get to fuck you."

You cannot believe your ears.

"What?"

"I said what I said. I'll be the best student you'll have. I'll ace the exams. And when I do, you'll sleep with me."

"Why the fuck would I say yes to that?"

In an instant, Yves flips you around. Your back is now against the wall, your arms held against your will, held down by Yves's grip. Yves leans in.

"Because you think I'm hot."

You subconsciously lean in when you feel her hot breath on your lips, and Yves leans in as well. Something soft presses against your lips. Instantly, she is off you, smirking.

"See you around babygirl. Don't think about me too much."

So you agree.

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (cinq)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere bts x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, physical assault, graphic descriptions of violence, manipulation, (slight) gaslighting

you were left, abandoned by mortals and immortals alike. darkness knows no bounds, and neither does punishment. there is no refuge in neither blood nor flesh from its wrath. if darkness welcomes you, should you open your arms to it in return? if darkness turns you away, does that mean you’ve won? should you choose to cast aside this lonely path of yours, and your conviction along with it, regardless of whatever other horrors lie in wait, you will be saved. 

——————————————————————

What is one to do when they hear the words they’ve feared the most leave someone else’s mouth?

The moment they graced Jin’s eardrums, he gripped his phone so tightly he could hear the glass screen crack. 

He and Yoongi had been assisting their father in the woods with preparations for the next meeting, the ominous hour approaching in no less than ten days.

He ignored Moonsik and Yoongi for a moment to answer his phone. 

“Hello?”

He could barely make out any of Jimin’s words--the boy’s blubbering masked too much of the information.

“Robotics...bathroom...”

“Jimin, I can’t hear anything over the sound of you crying. What’s going on?”

“(Y/N)...rooftop...Aemilia...”

“What are you trying to say?” Yoongi stopped talking to the older man, shifting his gaze toward his elder brother as he noticed Jin’s voice raise in irritation and concern.

“Blood...”

“Blood?!”

——————————————————————

Jimin had walked out of robotics a little early today, bored to tears.

He had felt much better after getting rid of the idiotic gaggle that dared to threaten you, and threaten him into abandoning you.

He should have known it wouldn’t be enough. He should’ve never left your side, he thought as he kneeled on the rooftop, staring forlornly at the pool of partially dried blood on the concrete.

“She was bleeding, hyung. Aemilia or her people must have taken her, but I have no idea where they went.”

Namjoon had been in the middle of a meeting with the school board, representing the student council.

Hoseok had been in the dance studio, barking orders out at somewhat competent underclassmen.

Jungkook and Taehyung were holed up in the younger’s room, playing games rather than doing any actual work.

In short, none of them were prepared. None of them had been there for you as they had promised.

You trusted them when you needed them most, and they left you high and dry.

Jimin felt like he would never be able to get the disappointment and guilt off of his chest.

——————————————————————

Namjoon bounded into the clearing, his usually polished exterior uncharacteristically tarnished. 

Hoseok appeared not long after him, having raced to the woods the moment he received the news.

They were met by Seokjin and Yoongi, who stood with their arms crossed over their chests, near a miserable Jungkook and a pacing Taehyung. Both boys had been in the house, so they were the first to arrive.

Jimin got there last, his hands and uniform pants stained red from the puddle he had kneeled in on the rooftop.

Six pairs of eyes landed on him and his appearance, confirming the worst.

“Three!” Seokjin cried incredulously. “Three of you were on campus, surrounded by a bunch of humans, and not a single one of you managed to keep an eye on her!”

“She could be anywhere,” Jungkook groaned in fear. 

“By all means, please don’t start caring now. It’s too late.” Yoongi snapped at him. “You and Taehyung drove straight home to do absolutely nothing. You could at least have offered her a ride home and ensured that she was safe. You’re just as responsible as they are.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew glassy, but only because he knew his brother was right. 

“As much as you enjoy playing the blame game, we have more pressing matters to address.” Namjoon interjected in an attempt to calm them down.

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it, Namjoon.” Seokjin’s icy tone sent a chill down their backs. “If we really wanted to play the blame game, we would have recognized how this is all your fault.”

The leader stood in tense silence.

“What did I tell you mere hours before this happened?” He continued, walking toward Namjoon until they were face to face. “I told you to get your shit together and to keep that girl in line. Hell, none of this would have happened if we hadn’t followed your idiotic plan in the first place.”

Seokjin was rarely ever angry enough to hiss in his brother’s face. They had all learned a long time ago that to provoke the oldest was to invoke Death.

“We all agreed his plan was the best choice at the time, hyung.” Yoongi cautiously approached the two and lay a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder, leveling a glare of his own at Namjoon. “We can deal with him later. We need to find her first.”

Jimin took the opportunity to step further into the clearing and brandished his phone, the device still open to his messages. “(Y/N) texted me saying Aemilia invited her up to roof and that she assumed it was for a confrontation of some sort.” 

“Aemilia doesn’t have the ability or strength to do damage like that by herself, though.” Taehyung frowned as he gestured to Jimin’s clothes. “Unless...”

The brothers looked at each other in realization and one by one, rushed out the clearing and out the forest. 

A quick drive to the center of the city and one pitifully short interrogation later, their suspicions were settled.

Hoseok growled as he re-entered the van, slamming the car door shut. “How dare he? When did he gain the courage to mobilize our own forces without our knowledge?”

“Never mind Augustus,” Jimin said, although his eyes blazed with anger. “Where would they take her?”

“That dog wouldn’t have taken her to the normal base, she has far too much malicious intent for (Y/N).” Taehyung growled.

Jungkook lightly tapped his fingers on the car door, looking out the window when the thought hit him.

“You don’t think they’d take her to...?”

His brothers looked at him in confusion, but he pointed out the window at the tree line of the woods. 

Having grown up in those woods, they knew it like the back of their hand. 

They knew the places were young townspeople would go to goof off, the places they had claimed for themselves, and the places that were...strictly off-limits.

It didn’t take much longer for the realization to set in.

Once it had, they took off in the direction of the forest.

——————————————————————

In your dream, you once again stood before Ichabod Chapel.

The Chapel, adorned with green vines, had long since been abandoned. Once, the walls must have been a beautiful ivory, but now they were a dark beige, having rotted with time.

A complete opposite to the image of the decrepit church, the seven Kim brothers stood on the ground in front of the entrance, visions dressed in various black silks.

Contrary to its original purpose, the material looked anything but light and airy--in fact, it looked as though it was weighed down or soaked, doused in some unknown substance.

You looked down to see that you were dressed in a white, ceremonial outfit. It billowed out like a ball gown, the sleeves drawing lacy patterns swirling up to your thumb. 

When you looked up, you were stunned by the brilliant, black wings that extended from the backs of the seven men before you. 

The sight of their wings enraptured you, those gorgeous appendages, feathers glossy under the moonlight.

Each of them had their own, unique set, varying in shapes and sizes, though the largest pair of wings belonged to none other than Kim Namjoon, who stood in the center of his brothers, hands in his pocket as he flashed you a familiar, mischievous grin.

Namjoon was the first to step out of the line, casually extending his hand out to you, and you hesitantly raised a dainty, (s/c) hand in return, placing it in his.

He pulled you into his arms and you felt him wrap them around you.

His brothers came to circle around the two of you, eventually joining the hug as well. 

Then, the whispers began.

Their tone was loving, though their words were anything but.

They were desperate, consuming, obsessive, threatening. 

They wanted you to love them, they needed you to love them, why couldn’t you understand? 

Your head pounded, filled to the brim with cruel promises of tenderness and affection.

The substance from their silks seeped into your clothes, rapidly staining your white outfit red.

You realized just what it was that they were doused in and tried to pull away from their arms but they surrounded you, locking you into their hold. 

The harder you fought to get out, the tighter they held on to you until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

Things were better this way. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do to protect you.  There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for your love.

How could you scorn their love for you? How could you treat them like this?

 They didn’t want to hurt anyone you cared about. They didn’t want to eliminate everyone you love in order to bring you to their side, but they would if they had to. 

They paid no mind to the way you were drowning in the smell of it, drowning in blood. Was it yours or someone else’s? Was it your mother’s? Mana’s?

All you knew was that they were done playing games.

——————————————————————

Your eyes flashed open and you winced as you immediately wished they hadn’t.

Your head pounded, each thump forcing your eyes shut with the intensity, still not having recovered from the several hits it received. 

For a moment it felt as though you were still unconscious and drenched in darkness, as when you tried to get a glimpse of your surroundings, you only saw shadows and moving, ambiguous shapes. 

The movement of the ground beneath you, however, quickly dispelled such thoughts. 

It appeared as though you were being carried over someone’s shoulder. Despite the extra weight, the person you currently rested on was light and quick on their feet, moving with a speed that made you feel worse than you already were.

The familiar crunching of leaves and branches on the ground made your heart beat just a bit harder. 

According to their footsteps and what you could see of your surroundings, you surmised they had taken you to the forest.

It had been mid afternoon when Aemilia and the people who worked for her and her family accosted you at the roof. Now, there was barely a hint of the moon in your surroundings.

Did she intend to have her people tie you up to the wooden pyre and set you aflame, like some sick imitation of a witch burning at the stake? Or to make it seem as though the Kims had done it?

Despite how afraid of Mayor Kim the citizens were, there was no way everyone would believe you died in such a gaudy display. 

Only the purple fire that Mayor Kim was capable of conjuring left nothing behind, after all. If they were to going to get rid of you by fire, your remains would be found.

There’s no way you could ensure that, however. 

There’s no guarantee that Aemilia wouldn’t be able to make good on her promise and utterly destroy you.

A light cough broke the silence, bringing you back to the present, and you tried to calm your heartbeat. There’s no way your captors would believe you were asleep if you kept scaring yourself like this.

You felt a tight, scratchy material around your wrists and your hands laying against your back.

You successfully clenched your hands. So they hadn’t drugged you while you were out. 

You were hesitant to shift, as you feared your captors would notice your cognizant state, so you resorted yourself to blinking at the ground and gritting your teeth from the pain and nausea. 

Thankfully, the people you were with appeared to be none the wiser. 

“Are we almost there?” A deep voice, seemingly annoyed, huffed.

“Be patient, Lee.” You felt the vibrations of the person carrying you as they replied. “This isn’t just any other job.” 

“I understand, but don’t you think Miss Augustus is going too far?”

Your captor scoffed. “If you want to question the Augustuses, thereby questioning the Kims and their authority, be my guest. I just hope you and your family will be able to deal with the consequences.”

The second captor, Lee, had nothing else to say after that. 

The quiet of the forest left a buzzing in your ears and the swinging sensation your body was making whilst strewn over the person’s back became too much to bear. 

You figured you’d just make your captor angrier if you barfed down their back and tried to shift to draw their attention, but it was too late. 

The acrid taste of bile and what you had for lunch earlier that day reached your mouth and your lifted your head, spitting out as much of it as you could.

There was a yell of anger and disgust, and your captor shoved you off of them and onto the forest floor. 

You held back a shout as you hit the ground, injuring your side even further, and let out the rest of your meal.

“What the-?! This disgusting bitch!”

Your captor launched another kick at your stomach and you fought back tears as they aggravated the wounds already in place. 

Lee stopped them after a while, complaining that another round of beating would just delay their job even further. 

You wiped your mouth off on your shoulder and grimaced.

To your surprise, you found that you could move your legs.

The first captor lifted you to your feet by your collar, and you recognized him as Mr. Byun, the man the strawberry blonde had referred to earlier. 

“Your legs still work for a reason,” he sneered and pushed you forward.

Your legs did indeed work, but were wobbly after hours of no use. 

You tripped and almost fell to the floor again, the bonds around your wrists preventing you from reaching out to break your fall, when the second captor grabbed you by the back of your shirt and held you up. 

“I’m not really in the mood for any of your foolishness, girl.” Lee glowered down at you. “Use your legs properly, or I’ll break them and drag you by the hair. It would be all too easy.”

You heard a suspicious click and your eyes flickered over to Byun, whose hand rested on his waist. In the other, however, he fiddled with a small lever on what appeared to be a firearm.

“Do you understand?” The second captor shook you and your brain protested, rattling around far too much for its liking. 

The thought of escape, which had been curling up inside you like the beginning of a fire, was quickly extinguished. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

He pushed you away from him and you walked, following him with Byun at your back, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

You couldn’t tamper with the ropes around your wrist, as Byun was watching your every move. There was also the gun, and the fact that both men were trained in the use of it as well as martial arts.

Was there truly no way to escape?

——————————————————————

The three of you walked for what felt like hours, reaching a part of the woods that you had never seen before.

Here, the trees were sparse and had already lost all of their leaves. The dark branches coiled and twisted toward the sky, as if reaching for affection that would never be reciprocated. The stumps were old, the ground hard.

And then, a clearing. But not the one you were used to seeing.

Your heart dropped as you walked between two trees, noticing the view beyond them. 

You could now tell that it was well after midnight, for the sun was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, as always, the moon was high in the sky. 

Wylynne gazed down on the clearing with a force, as if the moon goddess wanted you to see bright and clear what awaited you.

The crumbling cliff before you overlooked a tranquil lake. Clouds hung in the distance, obscuring what was undoubtedly the outside world.

The outside of Ichabod.

Such tranquility had no business here, you thought to yourself as the pace of your breathing increased. 

Your captors had brought you to Lorne’s Ledge, also known as the edge of no return.

It was forbidden territory for any Ichabodian citizen.

Even before Mayor Kim came to town, even before the Augustus family had their reign: this was one of the oldest, most sacred spots in Ichabod.

The lady of the cliff, Lorne, saw to it that the forsaken never returned home.

You shuddered. The folklore didn’t scare you in the slightest. It would always be the work of man that you detested. 

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some foreign, oppressive gaze resting on you now that you were here. As if Lorne herself were staring at you, waiting for you to join her in the watery depths--

That familiar click sounded again and your eyes shot to the side. You tried to slowly turn around, but the press of metal against your back forced you to stop all movement.

Lee smirked. “We have arrived at your final destination, my lady.”

“Miss Augustus was generous enough to leave you with two options. You can walk off and take a nice rest in the lake, or you can die before your body ever hits the water.” The man smiled mirthlessly down at you. “Which would you prefer?”

You blinked rapidly, mind racing. Even if you were capable of swimming, with these injuries, you wouldn’t be able to survive the fall off the ledge, 

They truly meant for you to die.

Lee didn’t seem to be in the mood for your deliberation as his cruel smile slipped into an infuriated frown. “Choose.” He growled. “My friend here would be all too happy to make the choice for you. How does a bullet in your brain and being rolled off the cliff sound?”

Byun dug the weapon into your skin and you winced, shaking your head. 

“I’ll-I’ll go. I’ll walk myself.”

Your voice cracked horribly after not speaking for so many hours, but the message was received. 

The metal was removed from your backside and you sighed in relief.

The man in front of you said nothing, simply stepping out of your path. 

You took a couple more breaths and slowly turned to face him. “C-Can I ask you to do something? As a final request.”

He raised an eyebrow at you in response.

You titled your head in the direction of your back. “Can you untie my hands? After I disappear, there might be a search for me, and someone might try to dig through the lake for my body. A suicide will be completely ruled out if they find the ropes.”

There was no way this would work. Even the Augustuses were too intimidated to bother touching the lake for fear of Lorne’s wrath. 

Besides, the police knew when and where to look, and where to say they looked. They would lie to your friends and family through their teeth.

Lee must not have been on the force for very long, however, because he grunted and pulled your hands to him. 

With a slice, the ropes fell to the ground and you clutched your wrists to your chest, nodding partly in thanks and partly in disbelief.

It...worked.

You rubbed your hands together and gently blew on them, fingers numb from the cold breeze. 

Your captors stood together between the trees, blocking the entrance. They murmured quietly to themselves and you continued to morph your face and body expressions into one of a pitiful teenager about to die, concealing the rather reckless thoughts you were having.

You finally turned around and walked back until you were in front of them, catching the two men off guard. They quieted and stared at you, hands at their weapons. 

You met each of them in the eye and bowed, lower than you ever had before, then stood upright.

They looked at you incredulously, giving you just enough time to give Lee a harsh kick between his legs and pry the knife out of his hand.

You slashed at his neck, adrenaline returning full force, and actually managed to cut the man. 

He shouted in pain and brought a hand up to the wound, trying to stop the blood.

Before you could turn to face Byun, however, the loud crack of a gunshot was heard throughout the forest and you felt a painful sting on your hand. 

You yelped as you dropped the knife.

Then, there was a second gunshot and the pain returned full force, this time on your shoulder.

The elder captor, completely fed up with your actions, slammed the gun against your head and you crumpled to the ground. 

You could feel something wet on your hand and clothes, but there was too much of it to be sweat in the midnight chill. You slowly lifted your hand, only to see it covered in a dark liquid.

Byun restrained Lee from attempting to beat you this time, barely casting a glance at your pitiful form. 

“Calm yourself. She won’t be alive for much longer.” He gruffed. “She said she would walk herself, so walk she will. We’re just here to watch and make sure it happens.”

He stood over your form and pointed the gun at your head. “What a useless attempt. Get up.”

Your shoulder and hand burned like hell, but you complied. 

You got to your feet once more and stumbled forward, every step taking you further and further away from the two. 

The barrel of the gun followed your every move.

The tears you’d been struggling to hold back ran full force now at the thought of your imminent death. But rather than let your captors feast upon the sight of your defeated form, you stopped.

You were covered in blood. Your uniform was sullied by your own vomit and dirt. 

But you straightened your back, ignoring the pain in your shoulder, and held your head up high. 

You had reached the edge of the cliff now, but your vision was too blurry to see anything besides the vast blue beneath you. 

The lake that rested below had no warmth or safety to provide for you, but neither did the forest behind you.

You considered praying to Wylynne to see if, in all her majesty and grace, she would save you.

Yet clearly, just like all the people who had come before you, just like the lady of the lake herself, the moon goddess had forsaken you.

You were tired. Too tired to fight against what some would call fate.

You whispered an apology to your mother and Mana, and perhaps even to the brothers, the reason why, you did not know.

Your eyes captured the overcast image of the outside world one last time, then you turned around and took a backward step off the cliff with a sad smile, eyes falling closed, mentally locked on that solitary picture.

Above you, you thought you heard the pained screams and grunts of your captors, sounding as though they were struggling against something or someone. 

But before you, you saw your mother with her arms outstretched, that patient, loving smile on her face. 

You reached forward, wrapped your arms around her, and readily slipped into darkness.

Above your falling form, a shadow zipped through the dawn, racing to reach you before you hit the water. 

He saw you smile and lift an arm into the air, before the smile slipped off your face and your limbs went limp.

The large, black wings at his back beat furiously and he flew faster than he ever had before until he had your beaten form cradled to his chest. 

The two of you suddenly shot upward into the air as your descent slowed, and as the first rays of daylight peeked out from above the clouds, his form hung in the air, almost frozen in time, black wings outstretched and supporting the two of you as he floated above Lorne’s Ledge. 

Kim Jimin hovered, adorned in the light of the early morning sun, peering callously down at the vermin who lay trembling between him and his brothers. 

Or what was left of them, at least.

Jungkook had managed to get his hands on the elder one, and the arm he had been using to carry the gun had been ripped clean off. 

He was now whimpering in excruciating pain, clutching at the place where his limb had once been.

The younger one, on the other hand, lay resting against a tree. 

Unmoving, his eyes unseeing. 

All it had taken was one touch from Hoseok, and the man’s life force was gone, sucked out of him before he could even protest.

He was now nothing more than a lifeless sack of meat.

Taehyung picked up the body as Yoongi kicked one of the elder’s legs to get his attention.

The others stood threateningly over Byun, glowering down at him in utter loathe, as though he were a louse.

The old man whimpered, looking up and between them, then paling in horror as he saw Taehyung and Jimin.

The younger brother walked toward the elder as Jimin gently touched down on the ground, your form still protectively pressed to him. The two Kims met eyes and nodded at each other.

Taehyung turned around and flashed Mr. Byun a crazed smile before flinging Lee’s body as far as he could over the cliff.

He gaped in horror and his voice rose multiple decibels, pleads for his life escaping before he could properly think them through.

Seokjin squatted down until he was at an eye level with him, strong, black wings threateningly displayed. He grinned. 

“If you think you have even any hope of escaping your friend’s fate,” he said as the smile slipped off his face, “you’re dead wrong.”

He glared at Byun with cold, amber irises. “But before we end your insignificant, paltry life, you’re going to tell us who sent you and why.”

They already had proof of Aemilia’s crime from Aloysius Augustus himself but they wanted to be sure.

He looked at the younger gentlemen with tears in his eyes. He fought through his pain and got on both knees.

“There’s no use in begging,” Namjoon stated, arms crossed over his chest. For the first time, he couldn’t find anything amusing in the matter.

“Please! We were only receiving orders, Miss Augustus--”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yoongi used Lee’s discarded knife and slashed it across Byun’s neck, silencing him in an instant. 

The light left his eyes and the man’s body flopped over.

Taehyung didn’t think twice about kicking him off the cliff, either.

Now that those pests were taken care of, the seven rushed to turn their attention on you. 

The bleeding from your shoulder and hand had not slowed in the slightest, and they could hardly feel your pulse.

“We need to get her to the hospital, and fast.” Hoseok said, swallowing the rising lump in his throat.

“I’m the fastest. I can take her there.” Taehyung volunteered.

The brothers agreed, and you were gently deposited into Taehyung’s arms. 

“When you’re sure she’s safe, meet us back here in the woods,” Yoongi said. “You’ll know where to find us.”

"Yes, hyung.” Taehyung spread his wings and took off into the sky.

He carefully cradled you, shifting your body into one of his arms, and attempted to heal some of your worse injuries along the way.

He pressed one hand to your abdomen and began muttering under his breath, a panicked tear slipping out the corner of his eye as he peered at the extent of the damage.

Once your ribs were mostly healed, he pulled his hand away, leaving behind a canvas of dark blue, yellow, and green bruises. He winced and moved on, pressing his hand to your head.

You made no movements, body as limp as ever in his arms. 

Taehyung touched down on the roof of the hospital and tucked those magnificent, black wings together, the appendages fading away as if they were never there. 

He held his arm out, his palm facing the door. He only meant to unlock it, but utterly destroyed it in his haste. Quite frankly, he couldn’t have cared less. 

He hurriedly walked down the stairwell and burst into the hospital’s eleventh floor lobby, reserved for VIP care and treatment. 

A receptionist was working at the front desk, typing away without a care in the world.

He was interrupted by Taehyung’s shouts. “I found her in the woods outside of our home this morning--she’s badly injured, please help!”

He looked up at the boy’s outburst, eyes widening when he realized just who and what he was looking at.

He immediately called for available nurses to bring a bed and admit you to a room, then paged any available doctors.

“Do you know who she is, Mr. Kim?” A nurse asked as she examined you for damage.

He nodded. “She’s a classmate of mine, her name is (Y/N) (L/N). Her mother also works here--please notify her of her daughter’s arrival.”

The man nodded once more, sending someone else to page Nurse (L/N) from the fifth floor.

As the nurses wheeled you away, Taehyung grabbed the receptionist by the wrist and he whipped around in fear.

“This patient is very important,” Taehyung stressed, squeezing the man’s wrist harshly. “She is being admitted under the protection of Kim Moonsik himself, at the behest of our entire family. If anything happens to her...”

The receptionist gulped and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Kim. You don’t need to explain any further. We’ll do our absolute best to ensure her care and recovery.”

Taehyung glared down at him for a bit longer before he threw the man’s wrist aside and turned away from him. 

He rubbed at his wrist, knowing it would bruise in a couple of hours, or perhaps even minutes.

The man returned to his desk, beginning to fill out the paperwork for your stay. 

When he looked up to ask Taehyung more questions about your injuries, the boy had already disappeared.

——————————————————————

In Taehyung’s absence, the six brothers stretched out their wings and flew to a certain section of the woods behind the Kim family home. 

This part of the woods remained untouched by both the Kim family and the general public. It was only the seven who came out here, and only in times of dire consequence. 

Several trees in the area had fallen over, cracked in half as though hit or pushed in anger with some spectacular force.

Leaves and branches strewn all over the ground were blown away by the boys and the sudden breeze they brought, large wings disrupting the peaceful quiet of the forest.

The early morning sun peeked through the leaves, painting a picturesque view of the woods, a sharp contrast to the heavy, violent atmosphere headed its way.

Jungkook planted his feet on the ground first, tucking away his wings until they were out of sight. He angrily flicked what was left of Byun off his face, disgusted by the thick feel and metallic smell of mortal blood. 

Jimin followed right behind him, then Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin entered, Namjoon being the last to touch down on the forest floor.

Jimin and Jungkook met eyes with one another, their anger not even close to subsiding at the death of your captors. 

Yet, soon enough, curiosity and dread brought them out of their rage when they realized just how quiet it had gotten between the older members.

Jimin shifted his gaze, the frown on his face deepening when he saw the eldest brothers’ attention turn to Namjoon, who was standing deathly still, staring blankly ahead.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow as he glared down at the younger. Namjoon refused to meet his gaze.

The six of them stayed like that for a long time, even when they heard the loud beating of another pair of wings, and Taehyung joined them in the forest.

He turned to Jimin in confusion but the older simply shook his head and grabbed for his and Jungkook’s hands, squeezing them. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, Seokjin spoke. 

“There is no mercy for the prideful,” he stated with finality.

Namjoon flinched away at the words, eyes stuck to the ground.

“You weren’t able to uphold your oath, Namjoon ah,” Hoseok said. His words were concerned, but his tone reeked of condescension.

“And because of that, because of your utter failure, our beloved angel got hurt.” Yoongi hissed. “She almost died.”

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin took menacing steps toward the leader. 

He heard his older brothers walking up to him, but refused to meet the wrath that was surely boiling in their gaze.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook watched on with bated breath, their hands still linked together.

Namjoon was frozen in place. 

As the leader of their group, there was rarely ever a moment where he was seen as weak. 

But the second he had received news of your capture, he lost even the strength to stand on his own two feet.

It was the thought of you, of saving you and bringing you to safety, that had kept him going. 

It was the only thing that had kept all seven of them sane.

Now that they knew you were going to live, he knew he couldn’t avoid his punishment any longer.

Namjoon’s facial expression didn’t change, even in the moment where, with surprising speed, Yoongi lashed out at him, decking him in the face and knocking him to the forest floor.

The student body president winced, gingerly gripping his nose as blood started to leak from it.

His older brothers stood, looking down at him in a mock semicircle.

“Yoongi ah,” Seokjin said, turning to the younger, “what is the punishment for those who commit the deadly sin of pride?”

“Being broken on the wheel, hyung.” Yoongi replied impassively. 

“Fortunately for you, or unfortunately, I should say,” Hoseok grinned down at Namjoon, “we don’t have a wheel.”

Seokjin stepped forward and lifted his foot above Namjoon’s right leg. 

“This is what happens when you place too much pride in yourself and in your actions.” He stated, then brought his foot down on Namjoon’s right leg.

He didn’t let up until there was a sick, audible crack. 

Namjoon reeled back, grunting in pain but refusing to scream. 

Yes, it hurt, but he knew he deserved it. He failed (Y/N). 

This is the least he could do to atone for his actions.

“All things considered, we’re being quite generous with you.” Yoongi stepped up next, kicking his broken leg aside to stomp down on his left one.

This time, Namjoon let out a jarring scream. 

“You still have the audacity to scream? To feel pain?” Yoongi ground his foot into the injury as though he were trying to put out a cigarette. “Imagine how much pain our beloved is in right now. Imagine what she wouldn’t have had to go through, had you done your job properly. Had you listened to us.”

The elder had never been kind or considerate when it came to delivering punishment, a fact that the younger brothers had quickly become accustomed to.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook looked on blankly, but inside they felt a deep sense of pity. 

Namjoon was their brother and their leader, the constant face of their strength.

It hurt to see him in so much pain, no matter how necessary it was. 

Namjoon sat on the forest floor, both legs twisted at an awkward angle. He grit his teeth together as he tried to control his breathing. 

He noticed no one else was approaching him, but he knew that the punishment wasn’t over yet, not so soon. He slowly, inquisitively lifted his head.

The eldest three looked at Namjoon expectedly. He pleadingly raised his eyebrows, but their stares held no mercy.

He bowed his head in defeat. 

The senior wrapped his right hand around his left forearm and squeezed until he heard something crack. 

There was the quick, soft sound of a sob coming out of his mouth, and then all was quiet. 

Hoseok went last, shuffling through the leaves on the forest floor to squat next to his younger brother, wiping away some of his tears and gently running his fingers through his hair. “We’re doing this for her. Everything we do is for her, you know that as well as we do.”

Namjoon glanced at him warily, tense because he knew what was coming next, but didn’t know when to expect it. 

“That’s why you’re prepared to face the consequences for your actions, yes...?”

With a sickeningly sweet smile, Hoseok wrapped his hands around Namjoon’s right forearm, breaking the bone in a quick moment.

Namjoon clenched his teeth together so hard, he swore he heard something else crack. 

Any movement within the top or lower half of his body left him in excruciating pain, and he stifled a scream each time.

“You did so well, Joonie.” Hoseok continued patting his head. 

They surrounded him, praising him with how well he took his punishment. 

He was only able to withstand a few more minutes of cognizant thought before his eyes rolled back into his head.

Hoseok caught his younger brother, gently laying him back onto the dirt.

The six men stood in the silence, staring at the form of their treasured leader with pity. 

Seokjin turned around and met each of his younger brothers in the eye. He then wordlessly walked away from the clearing and Namjoon’s broken body.

Yoongi and Hoseok followed him, blank expressions on their face.

The youngest brothers were all too quick to pick up on the message. 

Overstep your boundaries, and endure the same fate. 

After taking one more look at Namjoon, the youngest brothers trekked out of the forest, silently following behind the other angels.

——————————————————————

When you finally pried your eyes open, you were greeted by an unfamiliar chill.

You were cold. So cold, the chill settled uncomfortably in your bones.

White blankets were tucked around you, pristine sheets morphing to mimic your form. 

For a moment, you incredulously thought that this must have been your arrival to heaven.

Then, you soon heard a monotonous beeping and you felt the subtle prick of wires along your skin, an IV casually grazing across the back of your hand. 

It hurt to move your right shoulder, and your abdomen ached, the areas bandaged so tight you could just barely feel them. 

There were bandages around your wrists and hand as well, and the pungent scent of ointment told you those were for your rope burns and bullet graze. 

Your head injuries were also wrapped, if you deduced the source of your current headache correctly. 

You were alive. Alive, and well taken care of.

“(Y/N)?”

You winced, your head not taking too kindly to the reintroduction of noise. A swivel to your right, however, and your mother’s worried face appeared.

“...Mom?” You voice cracked horribly, and she smiled and hummed in acknowledgement, lifting a water pitcher next to her and pouring you a glass of water.

You drank as if you were Tantalus himself.

“I was so worried.” your mother stated, her voice breaking right along with yours. The sound alone nearly brought tears to your eyes. 

She lifted her hands and grasped your uninjured one, intertwining your fingers.

 “I got paged yesterday morning and asked to come up to the eleventh floor, just to find out that you had been admitted.” Your mother spoke, answering your questions before you even got the chance to ask. “And at the request of the entire Kim family, no less. Kim Taehyung brought you in himself, claiming you’d been assaulted and found outside their door.”

You tilted your head, peering at your mother in disbelief. 

She met your gaze and flicked her eyes toward the door, then back towards you without turning around. You followed their direction.

Outside the small, rectangular window of the door, there stood a tall figure dressed in dark clothing.

Your mother leaned toward you and whispered. “That woman has been standing guard since the doctors finished their checkup.”

You gulped and nodded in understanding.

“(Y/N).” Her tone shifted slightly, still holding concern but taking a solemn turn. “I never ask you questions about how school is and your life is going. We usually leave each other to our own devices, and that’s clearly been a mistake on my part. But I need you to be completely honest with me here.”

“Have you displeased the Kims in any way?” Her grip on your uninjured hand tightened to the point where all of your knuckles turned white. “If they have you here under some sort of watch until the next meeting...if they’re trying to...” 

Your mother gulped, unable to finish the rest of the sentence. 

Her voice lowered into a harsh whisper. “Tell me. I’ll go alert a trustworthy coworker, and I will have you out of this town before Kim Moonsik can utter another prayer.”

Your eyes widened comically. “Mom, no! Nothing like that happened. They saved me. The Kims saved my life.” You repeated, gripping her hands. “If they hadn’t brought me here, I would have-” 

The weight of your words finally hit you, and before you could realize, tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I could have...”

You fought to speak through the trembling of your lower lip. “I’m sorry I never told you about my day, I just thought I’d be able to handle it all by myself. The police commissioner’s daughter, she was trying to get rid of me and she-Mom, she-”

Your mother cupped your cheeks as your tears cascaded down your face. She gently rubbed your lower back as you muffled your cries by burying your head into her neck.

She didn’t let you go for a while, even after you managed to collect yourself. 

She poured you another glass of water and you sipped at the beverage, telling her the trials you’d faced these past couple of weeks.

“I thought it was a regular instance of bullying,” you sniffled, putting the plastic cup down. “that she didn’t want me getting too close to her crush. So I endured because I had no intention of taking anything of hers away. Who am I, in Ichabod, compared to a woman of prestige like that?” You sarcastically asked.

“But apparently, my mere existence bothered her.” You shakily recounted what had ultimately been the most terrifying moments of your life to your mother. 

You obscured some parts of the story, not wanting your mother to worry even more, and claimed that the Augustus’ men had taken you to the clearing to scare you and beat you up, and that you surmised they dropped you off outside of the Kim home afterward. 

By the time she finished hearing the whole story, her grip had embedded itself into the edge of the hospital bed. 

Your mother’s vexation was interrupted by the sound of people speaking outside your door.

“Ma’am, I apologize. By the order of Kim Moonsik, only family members are allowed to visit the patient right now.” The figure outside your door spoke with an uninterested tone.

“With all due respect, officer, please don’t assume my gender.” You heard a familiar voice snipe. “My best friend is lying in there and she’s practically a sister to me. I don’t particularly give a damn about your order. Kim Moonsik can kiss my-”

“Mana!” You yelled, trying to catch both of their attention before your best friend could get themselves arrested. 

You flipped the hospital blankets off of you and your mother helped you to your feet, then to the door. The injuries on your abdomen and head protested with every step.

The guard’s eyes widened a bit as you slid the door open, and so did the eyes of every hospital staff within sight of your room. 

“Ms. (L/N), I implore you, please go back to bed to rest!” A nurse in the hallway rushed over. 

The guard hastily nodded in agreement. “Yes, please do. I sincerely apologize for the commotion.”

You waved them off, reaching a hand out to Mana. “I'll go back to bed, but only if you let Mana in. They’re family.”

Mana stood in the hallway, hurriedly dressed in sweatpants, a disheveled oversized hoodie, and sneakers, but gingerly holding a teddy bear with a card.

The guard looked between you, Mana, and the nurse for quite some time. The nurse’s frantic expression must have convinced her, though, because she finally stepped aside.

Mana extended their arm, gently grabbing your hand in return and waltzing past the security guard with a smug expression. 

The moment the three of you were back in the room, however, they ushered you back to bed as well.

“(N/N)!” Mana said, going to hug you, then rethinking it when they spotted all the bandages. 

They placed the teddy bear in your arms and stood a card that cheerily read “Get Well Soon!” on your nightstand. “How are you feeling? I’m so sorry--I should have been there with you!”

“My head and chest hurt, but I’m alright.” You shook your head with a small smile, clutching the doll to your chest. “Don’t apologize, you had no idea this was going to happen. This was all the result of my stupid decision--I was the one who fell into her trap.”

Your mother excused herself, leaving you and Mana alone for a few minutes.

You filled them in on what had happened to you, withholding no details, and their face lit up in anger. “She ordered them to take you to Lorne’s Ledge?! That psychotic cunt! Just wait until I drag her across the square, we’ll see how high and mighty she is then-”

“Mana, calm down.” You smiled, thankful for your friend’s protectiveness, but weary after everything you’d just gone through. 

“I never want to stoop to her level,” you admitted, wringing the sheets in your hands. 

Your mother gently slid open the door, returning with water and a tray of food for you.

“I think...I’ve had enough of mind games and tricks for a while.” You whispered, then smiled at her as she lay the meal in front of you.

Mana’s gaze turned soft, and they patted your hands and back in support. 

“I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if the Kims hadn’t gotten there in time.” your mother muttered. 

You nodded in agreement. 

You weren’t particularly sure how or why, but the Kims had saved your life. 

Not only had they offered you some of the best care in the city, free of charge, but they even stationed people outside your room.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, something told you that holding them with such a mindset would put you exactly where they wanted you to be. 

Yet something else countered that thought, claiming that it was that same distancing mindset that had pushed you into the arms of danger in the first place. 

Perhaps Mayor Kim felt responsible for it because his men got usurped by a high school girl.

Or, perhaps, it was his sons who felt even more responsible.

Your mother and Mana stayed with you the rest of the night, each taking up their own positions on the furniture. Mana draped themself on the couch while your mother took the armchair.

You allowed yourself to drift off to the sound of them breathing, the chill and fear of the previous morning now a distant, foreign thing.

——————————————————————

Your mother and Mana weren’t constantly at your side, as one had to attend to her duties at work and the other had to go to school. 

There were other individuals who were perfectly happy to waste the day with you, though.

On the first day, you were visited by Jimin.

The sophomore’s usual high-energy self was nowhere to be seen as he stepped into your hospital room holding a small bouquet of (your favorite flowers). 

Jimin rushed at you, barely giving himself enough time to greet him before he fell to his knees in front of your hospital bed. 

You gasped aloud in surprise and urged him to stand, but he would have none of it. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” His eyes glistened as water streaked down his cherubic face. “If I had read your message earlier, if I hadn’t been so stupid to turn my phone off, you never would have gotten hurt like this.”

You winced as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, your hand only hurting slightly less than it had before. “You didn’t know at the time, I wouldn’t blame you for that. When you did know, you rushed to help me. That’s something I will be forever grateful to you for.” 

You exhaled and smiled your rare, genuine smile, a warm countenance on your face that pierced Jimin’s soul. “So please,” you held your hand out to Jimin.

The boy looked up, pitiful expression morphing into a delighted smile. He gently took your hand and stood, then ushered you to rest comfortably back at the top of the bed. 

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking, Jimin distracting you from your current situation with stories about his family and their travels. 

By the time you realized you’d never gotten answers to your questions, the sun was starting to set and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open in the middle of Jimin’s conversation.

If the raven haired boy had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. 

If anything, he continued speaking, his voice low and chiming with laughter as he recounted precious memories.

When he heard the familiar sound of your soft, slow breathing, he stopped. He simply gazed upon your visage, smiling at the way your (s/c) skin lit up in the afternoon sun and held a hand up to block the light from getting in your eyes.

He stayed that way for the next several minutes, then gently caressed your cheek, letting his hands linger for shorter than he would have liked.

Once the night was well underway, Jimin collected his things and left your side with one more forlorn look.

He shot a strict gaze at the guard, who gulped and nodded at the unspoken order.

Finally, he turned and walked down the hallway toward the elevators. 

——————————————————————

On the second day, you were visited by Taehyung. You were still asleep when he first came into the room, but your mother was sitting beside you and her eyes widened when she saw him.

Before the younger boy could even speak, the older woman bowed low in gratitude.

Few people had ever seen your mother in a vulnerable state, you included, as she purposefully made it so. 

Taehyung was a rare exception that day as he gently gripped her shoulders, feeling the slight trembles that coursed through her as he straightened her posture. 

Suppressing an amused smile, Taehyung thought of the differences between you and his supposed mother. 

While the actress trembled out of fear for her own life, your mother shook at the thought of losing you.

As expected from the woman who raised you, their perfect treasure.

“I can never repay you for the hospitality you’ve shown my daughter,” your mother whispered.

“There’s no need for such matters, Ms. (L/N). We’ll always protect and watch out for your daughter. We’re honored to have her in our lives.” Taehyung replied with a sincere tone.

She accepted the flowers he brought, carefully laying the bouquet on your nightstand, right next to the vase where Jimin’s flowers lay. 

When you did wake up, you had your own chance to thank Taehyung for finding you and bringing you to safety, along with sponsoring your stay in the hospital. 

He waved away your thanks, claiming that he was simply glad that you had turned to Jimin for assistance so that they were able to know about it.

“You know we’ll always be there for you, right (Y/N)?”

Always.

“Just say the word and we’ll come running.”

We love you.

His heart ached with the weight of the words he couldn’t say.

But you smiled in appreciation and he melted, as it was the smile they had longed to see for so long. The one that you usually reserved for your mother or Mana, the one that they had only gotten glimpses of in the time that they had known you.

He wouldn’t let you do anything for yourself the entire time, claiming you needed to rest up and heal as soon as possible. You reluctantly agreed, enjoying an unusually lazy day.

He played music for you, and soon enough the two of you were lost in a passionate conversation about your favorite artists. Funnily enough, there were several of them who you shared interest in.

Before Taehyung returned home for the day, he insisted on covering you with the blanket as well, tucking it up to your neck and pressing it in at the sides.

Your eyes were closed out of embarrassment as his form hung over yours. 

He fought the urge to bend down and kiss your forehead, for he still feared that he could frighten you away.

Instead, he reached up and switched off the light directly above your bed. With an ambiguous smile, he left, closing the door behind him.

——————————————————————

On the third day, you were visited by Jungkook.

The atmosphere was a little awkward at first, considering how soft-spoken the freshman tended to be around you.

When you tried shifting the conversation by asking him about his personal interests and passions, however, his eyes lit up.

Jungkook demonstrated several different types of punches for you in the room, even helping you weakly set up your form with your still healing hands. 

You learned much more about boxing forms and gaming techniques that day than you could ever remember, but you did leave with plans to have private self-defense lessons with Jungkook after you’d finished healing.

At some point during his visit, you had drifted off and by the time you woke up again, Jungkook was already gone. 

You panicked slightly, worried that he’d be upset and think that you wanted him to leave. As you turned to your phone, however, you noticed a folded piece of paper resting on top of the back of it.

When you opened the paper, you saw a beautiful pen-and-ink sketch of you, lying in your hospital bed and napping. 

Jungkook had somehow taken your messy, disheveled state and turned it into something that evoked a tender feeling within you.

You grinned down at the paper, amazed by his talent. Was this how he saw you? As this...ephemeral, peaceful being?

You gently stood the paper up so that it rested between the two vases that housed Jimin and Taehyung’s flowers, right next to Mana’s card.

The afternoon soon gave way to evening, then evening to night.

——————————————————————

On the fourth day, Seokjin saved you from the monotony of bland, hospital food by bringing you home cooked meals. 

The mere smell of the dishes had your mouth watering. 

He refused to let you do anything yourself, much like Taehyung had the other day. But unlike Taehyung, Jin went so far as to feed you himself.

It was embarrassing, but no matter how much you protested, he wouldn’t let up.

He sat in the chair your mother usually preoccupied and held the utensils out to you, neatly making sure you finished your meals.

At one point, he pretended the food was an airplane and you playfully slapped his arm, resulting in him dissolving into a surprising windshield-wiper-like laugh. 

Jin spent the rest of the day with you, telling you awful jokes that under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have found that funny. 

His companionship was greatly appreciated, however, and you found that you grew surprisingly fond of his laugh.

Before Jin left for the evening, he gently lifted your hand and placed it in his lap, then revealed another bag he’d brought on his visit.

To your surprise, he clipped a small (silver/gold/rose gold) bracelet around your wrist. The ornament carried two charms: one of a well-detailed moon, the other a pair of angel wings.

You rushed to have him take the bracelet off, hesitant to accept such a valuable gift. 

Yet the look in his eyes pierced right through you, his previous joy still present and glimmering but hidden beneath the depths of something more sinister.

You leaned against your pillows as Jin gently lifted the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it, just like he had the first night you met. 

“The moment I saw it, I thought of you.” He smiled, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your wrist. “Keep it. For me?”

It wasn’t a request.

——————————————————————

On the fifth day, you were visited by Hoseok and Yoongi.

You were slightly surprised at the fact that they had come together, as their outer attitudes seemed to be opposites, but you found that they complemented each other very well. 

They were extremely considerate of you, allowing you to do things for yourself but offering their assistance should you need it. 

Hoseok spent the day cheering you up by performing routines for you in the little space the room provided.

As strict as he was infamous for being, Hoseok clearly knew his craft. You were mesmerized by his movements and insisted on clapping for each of his performances, your hand healing quite nicely now.

Yoongi delighted you with tales of his rambunctious actions in high school, and some of the best well-kept faculty secrets.

There were several things you learned about Ms. Divii and Mrs. Hargrove that day that you would have been perfectly happy not knowing for the rest of your life, but you giggled and gossiped all the same.

It appeared as though the elder Kim brothers had a similar thought process, as Hoseok and Yoongi each gifted you (silver/gold/rose gold) jewelry similar to what you had received the day prior.

Hoseok looked as though we was going to cry when you went to turn down his gift.

One sharp look from Yoongi later, you closed your mouth, smiled, and expressed your thanks.

Hoseok fondly clipped the necklace onto you, his heart performing somersaults as you leaned into his embrace. 

He silently gulped, overcome by the sudden desire to press his lips to your neck. 

When he made eye contact with Yoongi over your shoulder, his face reddened slightly as the elder smirked at him.

He reigned in the perceptible want in his eyes and leaned back, flashing you his signature smile. “There you are, angel. Pretty as a picture.”

You lowered your head to hide your flush. “You guys really don’t have to bring me these gifts,” you murmured lightly. 

“With a visage as perfect as yours, we simply can’t help ourselves.” Yoongi stated in reply, lifting your ring finger to slide a band onto it. 

How unfortunate it was that it was the right hand instead of the left.

He was able to hide his disappointment from you, but not from Hoseok. 

Nevertheless, there would surely be an opportunity in the near future.

How else would all of those worthless people know that you belonged to them?

——————————————————————

On the sixth day, Namjoon limped his way into your hospital room, a grimace on his face. 

You greeted him with a warm smile that quickly shifted into a worried expression. “Oh goodness, are you alright?”

Namjoon nodded, taking the seat next to your bed. “I injured my leg, it’s nothing serious. I should be perfectly alright soon.”

Seokjin had been kind enough to heal most of his limbs, the elder worried about your reaction to seeing him in such a state. 

They purposefully made him wait in agonizing pain for nearly a week, however, to rub the punishment in, before clearing him to go visit you. 

It seemed as though the student body president had lost his usual self-assured, constantly amused atmosphere. He was strangely quiet, and his body language was similar to that of a man who’d been beaten into submission. 

That was far from the Kim Namjoon you knew.

For several moments, the two of you sat in awkward silence.

The two of you hadn’t been on the best of terms the last time you spoke. Just thinking back to that moment when he’d felt like he was on top of the world, completely in control, made him cringe. 

Then, you turned and smiled at him. “You know, if you really need to, you could always join me as a patient. It’d definitely make the days less boring.”

Namjoon knew you knew there was a change in his attitude, and rather than lording that over him, you simply welcomed him as you usually did.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” The words blurt out before he could stop them.

You shook your head, slightly amused. “What’s with you and Jimin these days? You don’t need to apologize for saving me. Unless you want to, and, well, that’s a completely separate manner--”

“No!” Namjoon lifted his hands up and waved them around. “I just-"

You smiled, entertained by the frantic side of the normally suave, composed teen. “Think nothing of it, Namjoon. You have nothing you need to apologize to me for.”

Your expression darkened slightly as you continued. “If anything, I should apologize for not trusting you all more.”

Namjoon’s lips quivered, desperately wanting to form a victorious smirk, but he settled for an understanding smile.

In the end, he’d been right.

As usual.

“Who remains close to you, who you decide to trust, that’s completely your decision. You should never have to apologize for it.” Namjoon said.

You smiled in acknowledgement, then furrowed your brows in confusion when Namjoon started to dig around in his bag.

“I heard we were gift giving this week.” He pulled out a beautiful, leather bound journal and fountain pen and carefully placed the items on your lap. 

“This is absolutely gorgeous. How did you know I like writing?” You smiled. 

Of course he knew. He knew everything about you.

“I didn’t,” he replied, shrugging with a small smile. “I like to write in journals as a form of catharsis, and thought you might want to try.”

“Thank you so much.” You lifted an arm up and gestured for a one armed hug, one that Namjoon happily accepted.

Clutching the journal to your chest, you gathered the courage to ask him the question that had been running around in your head the past week.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“How did you guys find me in time?”

The elder clenched his jaw and shifted his gaze aside as if he couldn’t beat to direct his apparent anger and frustration toward you. 

“We heard from Jimin that Aemilia took you and interrogated the police commissioner about any of our private guard’s movements. He fessed and told us that Aemilia told him that I texted her, claiming that there was another soul in need of punishment.” 

Namjoon grit his teeth, vexation rolling off of him in waves as he practically hissed out his words. “He authorized members of our private force to move under her order in order to subdue you.”

Recounting the ridiculous lie that the redhead told her father, and the father’s idiotic tendency to believe her, made his blood hot.

“After we heard that, we rushed to all the places in the forest that the Augustus men might have taken you. Thankfully, we got to Lorne’s Ledge in time and Jimin was able to save you before you could fall off the edge.”

“Are you sure?” You said. “I could have sworn I stepped off...I thought I was a goner.”

Namjoon shook his head. “We definitely got there in time to save you. You sustained several head injuries, so I’d understand if you didn’t see Jimin or blacked out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering his response for several moments before nodding at his answer. 

There was no way you would ever be able to forget what happened that night.

You knew for a fact that your feet had left the ledge. 

But he was right, you did take several nasty hits from Byun and Lee.

You wanted to keep asking him questions, but the pained, forced look in his eye made you pause on that front.

Perhaps that projection you saw of your mother had actually been Jimin.

You wrung your hands together. 

“What matters now is that you’re safe and sound.” Namjoon gently placed his hand atop yours and gave it a supporting squeeze. “All you need to focus on is getting better. We definitely won’t let them get away with this.”

You nodded again, smiling slightly at Namjoon in thanks for his concern.

——————————————————————

Halfway across town, Aemilia Augustus paced around in her room, practically biting off her perfectly manicured nails in worry.

It had been seven days. 

Seven days of nothing.

Not a single word had come in from Byun or Lee.

When she arrived at school that first day and heard everyone talking about your absence, she felt pure and utter bliss. 

There was no joy like the joy she felt in that moment.

Such euphoria simply couldn’t be replaced.

The only moments that could possibly top it were her future engagement with Kim Namjoon, or the day she would take over her family business.

Because so many days went by without a single peep at your face, she thought her plan was working. 

She felt on top of the world.

But Byun and Lee were two of the most promising soldiers on the squad. There was no reason as to why they were taking so long to get back to her to confirm your measly little death.

As a result, she was starting to panic.

Of course, she had an emergency plan. 

She had no need for it, as there was no way her plan could go wrong, but she always had to be prepared, after all.

Just as she was about to take deep breaths to calm herself down, she jumped at the sound of pounding footsteps and yelps drifting into her room from downstairs.

She heard the annoying cry of her mother and father, and then the sound of several people talking.

A grim chill fell over her.

Unexpectedly, her plan had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

There wasn’t much time left now, as she could hear the footsteps get closer and closer.

To hell with her parents--their capture was inevitable.

Aemilia Augustus would not be captured like a criminal, not as long as she was alive and well.

Aemilia padded over to her bedroom door, shutting it closed as softly as possible and smacking the lights off.

She dove into her walk-in closet and squeezed herself as tightly as possible into a corner, a rack of evening gowns and day dresses covering her.

Every couple of minutes, a door would slam open and she listened, holding a hand over her mouth as the pounding feet searched every room on her floor.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at her room, and she shook as she heard them throw things around.

A rectangle of light shone into the room as someone opened the closet door and Aemilia stilled as though she were encased in ice.

It was silent for a long, dreadful moment. The officer turned their head this way and that, walking into the room and turning on the light to search.

From where Aemilia was hidden, there was no way they would be able to find her. She thanked Wylynne that she hadn’t taken up on her mother’s offer to hire a maid to clean her closet.

The officer turned away to leave and Aemilia cheered in her heart.

After the guards left the premises, she would collect as many valuables as possible from the house and run off to her family’s private home in another part of town. From there, she would plan what to do next.

Her plan wasn’t perfect, but she would be able to get away with it.

Or at least, she thought she would.

Just as the officer was about to close the door, a strong, invisible force yanked Aemilia out from her hiding spot and she came crashing down noisily from behind the evening gowns, taking a few with her.

The officer immediately turned around, beckoning his partner to get her. 

She hurriedly gripped a platform heel and attempted to plunge it in the man’s eye, but he caught her wrist and painfully twisted her arm behind her back.

The redhead screeched in fury and pain. His partner soon joined him, and they dragged her out into her room, each officer tightly holding on to one of her arms.

“What are you doing? Unhand me this instant!” She shrieked, writhing around in an attempt to escape. “Have you forgotten who you take orders from?!”

“No, but it seems as though you have.” 

She paused at the sound of that familiar voice.

Her beloved casually strode into the room in all of his glory, his head held high, that ever present cocky, amused smile that she loved so much on his face.

“Namjoon.” She whimpered. “Namjoon, they’re hurting me.”

The student body president kneeled down in front of her and gently took her chin in his hands.

Her eyes filled with tears and she stuck out her bottom lip, waiting for Namjoon to tell the men to let her go. They better anticipate the earful they were about to receive. How dare they treat their future queen this way?

Namjoon lovingly stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tear. She nuzzled her cheek into his hand, looking up at him with a pitiful gaze. He smiled at her.

Surely he would save her.

Aemilia closed her eyes, suppressing a victorious smile as she felt Namjoon pull his hand away from her face.

But rather than the sound of him barking orders, she was met with the sound of a harsh slap.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

Her face stung.

“Nam..joon...?” She whispered, stupefied.

The senior was sneering down at her, pulling a handkerchief out the square pocket of his jacket and wiping his hand on it.

“What disgusting thoughts you have,” the man spat, dropping the handkerchief in another subordinate’s hand. 

“Burn that.” He commanded.

Aemilia simply stared up at him in disbelief. 

Had he...hit her?

“Namjoon, why are you doing this?” Her voice trembled. “You’d never hit me, you’re my...we’re-”

“Nothing.” Namjoon interrupted with a disinterested gaze. “I am not your anything. I’ve never given you any inclination that could lead you to assume that I loved you, or liked you, or cared for you in the slightest.”

Aemilia dropped to her knees in incredulity. 

“That’s not true! You cared for me, I know you did! Ever since that (h/c) haired bitch appeared, you’ve turned away from me!” She screeched, her shrill voice piercing their ears. “I should’ve gotten rid of her sooner!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, all the air in Aemilia’s lungs disappeared. She heaved her chest, trying to breath, but found herself unable to.

He squatted down to face her.

“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear.” Namjoon spoke in a frighteningly low tone. “I never cared for you. You were nothing more than a useful little pawn in my game. A pawn who somehow tricked herself into believing she could become a queen.”

Her face turned redder and redder from anger, embarrassment, and the lack of oxygen.

“(Y/N) is more of a queen than you could ever be,” Namjoon stated, smiling at the memory of you sitting up in your hospital bed, grinning at him, the sun forming a halo behind your head. “She’s an angel. Our precious everything.”

He turned his gaze back to the creature before him. “She isn’t someone the likes of you can ever attempt to touch, much less harm or overthrow.”

Namjoon straightened, moving to walk towards the entrance to her room. “That’s my fault, I’m afraid. After all, I wasn’t able to properly regulate my inferiors.”

Black dots swam at the edge of Aemilia’s vision. She kept her eyes locked on Namjoon, still praying that this was all a prank or a joke, and that he would comfort her by sweeping her up into his arms.

“You truly have no idea what’s going to happen to you, do you?” He chuckled with a mirthless smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that soon enough.”

Finally, her body gave in and shut down from the lack of oxygen. The redhead flopped over on her side, Namjoon’s cruel glare burned into the backs of her eyes.

——————————————————————

On the morning of the seventh day, you took advantage of your solitude by pondering the events of this week and the rather complicated emotions that came with them. 

Despite their reputation and despite your fears, you had grown closer to the Kims over the past month. 

They never threatened or harmed you or the people you cared about. They had welcomed you into their lives with open arms. 

You had kept them at an arms length in an effort to protect yourself and your loved ones. But what had distancing yourself from them gained you?

Still, there was no way your method could be wrong. It was your livelihood, your path to survival in Ichabod. 

There were rules here, rules that couldn’t be broken. 

Yet the majority of those rules had been broken the moment you invited Jimin to sit with you at lunch.

Was it even possible that an alternative path to salvation freedom existed?

Had the Kims truly provided another way? 

Your mother went around the room collecting and packing up your things for you as Mana helped you change in the bathroom, making sure to be careful of your still-healing shoulder.

When they left to fetch your discharge papers, you sat at the edge of the hospital bed and deliberated what could potentially be one of the most important decisions of your life.——————————————————————

i am so, so, so sorry for taking longer than usual to post! college and midterm season caught up with me--i’ll try not to let assignments interfere with my writing schedule in the future ;-;-; thank you so much for sticking with me through the wait! the long awaited day has finally come! revenge has never been so sweet hehe. also, the way that i have no idea how to write fight scenes--pfft. i hope you all enjoy the chapter <33

~taglist~

@melaninkpops @loserwithapen @hellaspookystudent @ecillartto @omgsuperstarg @ace-angel-judas @jjamsbangtan @lovinggalaxies @lovesick-heart0 @ksxmpoison @girlmeetsliv3 @thedarkwinterrose @purpuravm @oneweirdbean @hopelessfountainjoonie @mazmaz30 @enigmaticlove-03 @uppiespuppy @queenceline22 @kokofikats @taeyohonic @creatorspalace @supertweetycherry @anachikartadze @itsfeliciatime 

[remsmoonlight]

— title : theatre square

— word count : 2.2k words

— pairing : daigo dojima x reader

— summary : nothing but a nice day spent with Daigo in theatre square .. also Daigo still hates the fact he still sucks at the ufo catcher

— warnings : nothing but a few curses here and there

               ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open ! / requested by anon *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

An unending chatter of noise that bleeds into each other from the various conversations of people going about their daily lives as they are captivated by their conversations through their mobile phones or the shopping trip they are using as a way to catch up with their friends to those just on their lunch breaks from their jobs — all do not take in that which surrounds them as you do, your eyes jumping from person to person. While you wait, you find yourself making a story up for each of them, using the game from your childhood to entertain yourself until your date arrives.

As the minutes pass your excitement by, the bright blue of Kamurocho dulls as does your enthusiasm. Time aches by every time you bring your wrist up to check the time on your watch, not a message to say they’d be late. Nothing. A heavy rush of air takes the plunge out of your lungs and into the air, with dejection and gloom the bricks that build its body. You wonder why a person would ask you out only to leave you without even a whisper to communicate their lack of interest despite being the one whose idea it was. People are confusing.

“ What are you doing here by yourself? “

Your view is interrupted as you turn to the recognisable voice behind your shoulder, a forced grin is plastered onto your features — hope courses through your veins that it’s not blindingly obvious that you’re drenched from the stormy clouds of misery above you.

“ Daigo? “ You ask as surprise lights up your eyes as you survey the man. “ It’s been a while. “

Your friendship with him had occurred by accident. There’s not a day that passes in the town where there’s not a poor soul being harassed on the street for some odd reason or another, it’s just you’d never thought that you would be in that very position. Often, you would walk the streets of the neon metropolis making yourself as small and as insignificant as possible.. However on that day your lone bubble had been burst completely. One moment you’d been blissfully content in your own comfort zone as you dipped and weaved in the crowded streets and the next you’d found yourself surrounded by a swarm of drunks.

Had the universe sensed your predicament, the unpleasant experience lasted no longer than a wore on fleetingly as your lips whispered its silent gratitude. They’d scattered once an order to cease had been uttered by Daigo, as if they’d never been there in the first place, not even a shadow in their place. Apologies had been issued and usually you’d not even stayed long enough to accept them but his words were as remorseful as his eyes were true.

“ Yeah, I had something to deal with. “ He responds, digging his hands into his pockets.

“ It didn’t happen to involve this town being under siege, did it? “ You question him, a brow lifts up knowingly as your expression shifts.

His past had been no secret, you made no move to judge — his actions spoke louder than any riotous melody should weave the ability to. As you stared down at the scene from your apartment high above the glowing lights of the town, all you could see was a maze of smoke littering various areas you know well, especially as you’d walked their path that very morning. Terror prevented you from leaving, the unknown of what could occur should you walk that path played into your fear with an unyielding grip on your body.

“ These past few weeks have been something. “ He swallows lightly, his circumstances have certainly altered in the passing days. “ You haven’t answered my question. “

“ I was waiting for someone.. “ You shrug with a mousy chuckle, preferring to not let on how disappointed you feel. “ I don’t think that’s happening now. “

“ Who would stand you up like that? “

It would be a falsehood to say that he’d never imagined a closer relationship between the two of you the more he laid eyes upon your form. Noting mentally how you would persistently shine brighter than venus yet everyone who interacts with you would gravitate towards you as if you took on the form of Jupiter and they became an additional moon to orbit your infectious laughter. No sooner than he’d met you, he fell under the spell that many who interacted with you had — becoming one.

“ Well, we’re not all too close. I’m not bothered about it really. “ You lie, your words to anyone else would have gone amiss, but he’d picked up the soft falter in your voice.

“ Let’s go. “

Your gaze follows his retreating form, your body still glued to the spot it has occupied on the bench. Had you anything to say your mouth would be opening and closing like a fish, it’s not long until you manage to snap yourself out of the stupor he’d led you into and you’re both now standing outside the Club Sega arcade. A mist of uncertainty begins to fog slowly as the wheels turn in your mind, you’d only ever seen him settled into establishments where alcohol was served. Just what has he been through recently?

Chords of a catalog of sources flow through your hearing as your sight scans the area, electronic notes from the games move in rhythm with the joy those emit from the entertainment they gain from the amusements to the despair others make vocal as they lose a battle or have run their turns out on the UFO catcher. Fingers slip into your as you feel yourself tugged into the direction of a game with large seats, already knowing the game you know you’re terrible.

“ Why not another game? I’m horrible at this. “ You complain as you stare at the intimidating structure of the game.

“ It makes it easier to beat you then. “ He chuckles, a spark softly swaying in his eyes as he turns his attention to you.

“ You’re not being fair, Daigo. “

“ The aim is to win, you’re just going to have to try harder to beat me. “

You do as he says. It takes a colossal effort to direct your mind to organise itself in order to give yourself a fighting chance at winning, and it does work — to an extent. A thread of tame curses tumble unceremoniously from your lips as your character is knocked out once more, and the distractions from the male finding humour in your disaster beside you does not help your cause. Your eyes roll as the game ends once more, with you failing to get a win over Daigo, there’s no need to turn to face him for the smugness radiates off of him in waves.

“ See? I’m awful! “ You whine as your shoulders slump in defeat.

“ Let me make it up to you.. “ Daigo speaks with a comforting tone, no longer relishing in his victory. “ I’ll get you one of those toys from the UFO catchers. What one do you want? “

Your lips twist and turn as your teeth sink into the flesh to bite on them in contemplation as you eye up the prizes from your position, the lengthy distance doing nothing to hinder you as the sight of a pillow pups toy stands out confined to its glass prison. The golden retriever is too irresistible to the childishness within you as your eyes narrow as you reluctantly share your desire for the toy with him.

“ Make sure it’s the golden retriever one. “

“ Yeah, I got it. “

“ I hope you do. “ You comment in a steady tone, a palm leaning on the pane.

The music begins and you scrutinise the scene before you with an eager eye as the metallic claw first moves left. Determination chisels itself into his features as his brows lower in a physical representation of his focus. To win the plush toy would be the most simplest effort in the world yet it would be the first step in treating you how he should have been treated at the start. Truthfully, he’d wanted nothing to do with forging bonds that could be so easily disintegrated, however he could never build up the strength to tear himself away from you. Instead of feeling drained from the human interaction, he’d leave your encounters revitalised.

A groan leaves the both of you as the first attempt leaves all of the toys still confined to their places, the one you specifically want at the back firmly in the middle. A tough spot, you remark.

“ Fuck. “

Giggling to yourself, your teeth shine brighter than any star as they are on full display from the action as the frustration of the man is surprisingly amusing to you. Again, the claw had found itself short of where it should be, and the last chance of retrieving the toy desired so much is shown clearly on the metallic panel.

“ Let me, Daigo. “ You comment, pushing him to the side with a weak force. Rolling your shoulders dramatically, you grab the controls of the game. A breath is held as the claw makes its way left, the toy stands out temptingly from its position. I have to get this, it’s so cute! You do not listen to the prompt to let it descend from Daigo just yet, allowing it to inch its way further back ever so lightly. Your eyes are transfixed as you watch the toy is clutched in a clumsy hold, your heart speeds up at the sight of the lessening grip with each jagged movement that leaves the toy released earlier than it should.

A relieved sigh is released as it falls through the empty space at the last minute, just managing to pass through with seconds to spare.

“ I’m still shit at this. “

“ So you know how it feels now? “ You ask him with a smirk, interlocking your arm with his as you reflect on the surprisingly good time you have had with him. “ Ooh, let’s go to Café Alps, I fancy something sweet. “

The proximity between you both is small, with both hands secured firmly in his pockets Daigo enjoys the basic experience. A buzz of energy bubbles between the two of you as you converse interactively, you can’t help but notice a level of tension has been removed from his shoulders, the man next to you appearing a little more relaxed. The walk is short to the café, you can’t help but continue to stare at the bright displays of the stores as you pass by as if you’re witnessing them for the first time. Life is certainly vivid and lively in Kamurocho.

You turn your attention away from Daigo ordering to the life outside from your spot on the cushioned wall couch. It doesn’t go unnoticed that darkness has overtaken the skyline completely, even with the glistening neon lights the stars fight to make themselves seen.

“ Thank you, Daigo. “ You begin, a leading inflection heavy on your words as you sip slowly on the hot liquid. “ I have to ask though, what’s this all for? “

“ Does there have to be a reason? “ He deflects as you cock your head to the side in response.

“ You’re you. There’s always a reason to everything you do, I know you that well at least. “ You respond, before placing a piece of the chocolate parfait. A short wiggle of your shoulders at the enjoyment of the sweet treat lends some amusement to Daigo before an air of sobriety returns to his outward expression.

“ I haven’t been the best to you. “

“ Dai — “

“ Please, let me finish. “ He interrupts suddenly, eye contact unwavering as he continues to study your form. “ I had you as a friend but even then I would hold you at arms length more often than not. I’m surprised you’ve put up with me. “

“ I’m not going to say you’ve not been difficult.. But you don’t see what I do. “ You comfort, there had been days where he’d been more insufferable than a child, but you know humans are more than one dimensional creatures.

A culture of existing in a positive bubble perpetually is no way to live, for it denies you the chance to feel the emotions that slash your soul deeply. Is it easier to think it would be easier to live if you only experience happiness? Perhaps. But never does the find feel clearer after releasing the negativity that darkens your walls.

“ Huh? “

“ You’ve been through a lot, it’s not excusable to be an ass but it’s understandable. “ You shrug with little effort, shaking your head nonchalantly. “ Besides, you haven’t been as bad as you think. You’re human, you have your off days. We all do. “

“ Still, I don’t want to be an ass to you. “ He confides, moving his hand to envelope yours. There’s a surging warmth that the pair of you notice simultaneously threads between fingertips more seamlessly than when ink glides onto paper with the grace of a bird that soars through the bright blue sky.

He’d lived long enough in a world built of paper, using it as a means to escape the reality the world so harshly has built into it.

“ Then don’t. “

[qtipcottonbuds]

𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙈𝘼𝙍𝙌𝙐𝙄𝙎𝙀.

i enjoyed writing this sm (update from future qtips i don’t anymore pls, i feel like its missing something) i’m a sucker for tendou soghpaeg but here’s some self-indulgent fluff <3 (also google translate is not accurate so i’m so sorry for this bash at french pfwpeg)

warnings for fluff and lack of communication slightly !!!

by qtipcottonbuds 2021. do not repost.

𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗗𝗢𝗨 𝗫 𝗚𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥;

Situated in the hustle and heartbeat of Paris; down in Rue De Rivoli, accompanied by large crowds of tourists or local Parisian’s strolling through the street day to day - and paired with the nearby Tuileries Garden (which offered a quick getaway from the buzz if need be) - Tendou could wholeheartedly say this was the life. Sure enough, even if he was several kilometres away from his motherland and not as active in the volleyball community, he’d still contribute to street games of the sport with the younger generations; the excitement reminding him of his days at Shiratorizawa. 

That reminds him, he does need to check on Ushijima, it’s definitely been awhile.

Hearing the familiar tingle of the wind chime just above the door, Tendou is knocked from his musings and thoughts - a customer. Even though the boulevard had its fair share of tourists, the bustle would start to ease once the rush hour of native commuters had passed, leaving the chocolaterie faint aside from the ongoing meaningless conversations in the back.

Pushing aside the chocolate mould, Tendou thoroughly pats down his hands on his apron with a quick shake, and heads out onwards to the shop floor with a wave to his colleague. 

Tendou knew he wasn’t the most conventionally attractive of men, often used to the backhanded compliments on his appearance; seeing you fiddle nervously with your fingers, eyes darting aimlessly, he considered calling to his colleague to serve you instead. Maybe his insecurities were true.

He did recall you visiting the area on some occasions, hand in hand with a laptop, a mishmash of what could be an attempt at a journal of sorts, and a packet of newly bought biros. Tendou assumed you were probably a local student studying perhaps art, or fashion maybe (stray papers would often slip out your bag filled with collages of all varieties, usually of clippings from magazines and newspapers).

But after a accidental lock of eyes, he watches you nod to no-one in particular before strutting towards the shop counter babbling out a, ”Je pense que tu es tres beau,” (something sounding along the lines of French, hopefully) and a sheepish smile, he could only watch questioningly back at you. 

Huh?

“Je pense que tu es très beau…?” This time the statement sounded more like an inquiry.

With confusion still evident on his face; the smile falls from your face alongside quiet mutters of, “je suis desole,” and, “c’est tellement embarrassant,” before you clutch tightly onto the straps of your bag, barely making eye contact.

Internally screaming at himself for ignoring the countless opportunities to study French (sure, he could somehow explain that he actually didn’t understand what the hell you were saying, but even so that would result in more confusion) he opts for tapping on the counter to grab your attention, alongside holding a single finger up in a waiting motion.

Usually although he’d have another worker who’d translate for him if he was based at the cashier, rather than being in the back room preparing the desserts, he digs into his side pockets pulling out his mobile, and tapping into Google (there was always a reason for google translate being free), proceeding to change the settings from Japanese to French.

The synthetic voice supplying a, “Je ne comprends pas. Je suis désolé, je ne parle pas francais, je ne parle que Japonais.” 

(I don’t understand. I’m sorry, I don’t speak French, I only speak Japanese).

Now seeming to understand, Tendou watches you sigh in relief and take out your own mobile in response (of course altering the settings), typing out fluidly, “So so, watashi wa ima rikai shite imasu. Shikashi, e to, watashi wa anata ga totemo hansamuda to omotta to itte imashita. Jibun no mae ni sugite shinpai deshita.”

(Oh, right, I understand now. But, um, I’d said that I’d found you very handsome. I was worried that was too forward of me).

Him? Handsome?

That was a first. The nicest compliment he’d received had been from Ushijima commenting on his interesting methods of guessing the opponent's ability back in highschool, but that had been it. 

But, handsome?

Zoning out, he catches onto the movements of someone adjusting the straps of their bag before rushing out of the shop overhearing, “Euh, merde, je dois y aller, j’ai un séminaire qui commence bientôt. Mais je passe demain pour une marquise au chocolat,” he doesn’t register what the hell it means, aside from the realisation of someone giving him a compliment.

And the heat rushing to his cheeks.

[mercurial-madhouse]

@oldbay-on-apples asked, I wish you would write a fic where characters of your choice are spies and trying to escape a facility with the blueprints they need!

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<

See my point of view (As someone staring back at you)

“We’re in, Haz.” 

Louis’s voice transmits through his earpiece. The tech relies on sound vibrations, picking up the resonance of Louis’s vocal cords so that, even though they can all hear him clearly, on Louis’s end his words are below a whisper. 

“Surprisingly, I can see that.” Harry scans the multiple video feeds on the screen before him. Louis, Picklock, top left; Niall, Ammunition, bottom left; Liam, Data Encryption, bottom right. 

Top right: blank. Where his feed should be. 

Louis’s face pops into Liam’s camera long enough for him to wiggle his eyebrows. All black looks so damn good on him. “How’m I supposed to know you weren’t mid-kip, old man?”

Harry tears his gaze away from Louis before his attention is compromised. Louis’s only two years older than he is and he’s been arse over tit for the footie player-turned-spy since they met years ago. But feelings cloud judgement, a potentially fatal threat too dangerous to dare in their line of work. He eyes the silver-tipped black cane leaning against the table next to him.

Current mobility status: severely limited.

“Promised Payno he wouldn’t have to babysit you alone,” he mutters without missing a beat.

Louis screws his features up then disappears from Liam’s screen, clearly shoved aside. Light glints off the camera implanted in the thin film of the eye-contact he’s wearing that’s allowing Harry to see their views. The nanotech Liam used to create it and their earpieces is too valuable to risk discovery by foreign governments. Any indication of compromise they must destroy the only lifeline Harry has to them.

Frustration tenses his muscles and tweaks the bulging disc between vertebrae L4 and L5. A lance of pain shoots up his spine. He raps a button on the keyboard. A fourth feed appears, the hijacked surveillance camera on the front gate with views of the Russian security guard manning the video booth.

Niall’s already detached from the other two. He oversees the perimeter. In complete silence he’s setting up remote-controlled explosives, the failsafe to create chaos should the other two need help during the extraction. Liam and Louis are silent. Harry watches like a video game without a controller as they scale the rear wall and infiltrate the building through the massive heating duct. 

As rogue operatives, their only link back to MI6 is a non-existent papertrail: an agent simply known as Z (probably because Q was already taken). The most dangerous jobs go to them, the ones MI6 can’t chance having connected back to the British government if the four of them are compromised on a mission.

If the window of opportunity to sneak into the Kremlin for a specific set of blueprints only known as TMH-11 weren’t closing fast, they might have waited for Harry to heal. All it’d taken was an unfortunate twist on their last mission in Bulgaria and he’d slipped a disc. He’s certain a gunshot to the back would be less painful. Louis had barely kept him on his feet to get to safety.

The silver world surrounding Louis and Liam steadies. For a few seconds Harry can see them both as they look at each other.

Liam glances at his watch. He’s spent months logging the patrols for the building and knows the timing by memory. 

“Six minutes, Tommo. No more.”

Louis nods. A breath, then they lift the ceiling grate aside. Liam finds leverage, planting his feet, gloved hands tight around the rope as Louis hovers towards the ground. The red laser lines criss-crossing the entire area as thin as trip-wires. 

Harry releases a breath when Louis’s feet touch down soundlessly, just before the tiny metal boxes all stacked like mailroom slots at a post office. The grid’s so small Louis’s got to keep his knees locked together. Even then, barely a centimetre separates him from discovery.

He works efficiently on the lock for box TMH-11, tools so tiny they make his slim fingers look even more slender. The miniscule flame of the blowtorch matches the alarm lasers in width. 

“Two minutes, eight seconds,” Liam says, tone even.

Plenty of time.

Louis is silent. He doesn’t answer when he’s concentrating. All of them know he’s heard.

The flame flares once. Louis cuts it off, pocketing the tools. He eases the door open, peering inside.

Motion on the screen catches Harry’s attention. The security guard’s feet have landed flat, squinting at the video monitor in front of him. His hand hovers over a call button, lips moving.

“Possible indeterminate error,” Harry warns. “Lou, get out now.”

Louis slides a cylinder from the box. At least a metre long, he slips it up to Liam.

“I’ve got movement,” Niall reports.

“Tommo, now,” Liam hisses.

Louis clicks the box closed. There’s no time to get the lock back into place. Footsteps fuzz through Liam and Louis’s earpieces. Pain surges through Harry’s back as he lurches forward, staring at Louis’s feed. Louis’s gaze whips over his shoulder towards the closed door of the vault.

“Lou, get out!”

Liam appears on Louis’s screen. Louis’s silent, but whatever he says to Liam with a look has Liam shaking his head.

Harry’s seen this too many times in his nightmares. They know their orders. They know what’s most important. “Lou, you still have time. Go.”

“Get that cache to Niall,” Louis whispers. He detaches the line from his back.

“Lou!” Harry shouts, in time with Liam. “Niall, code one. On my command.”

“Copy this.”

“Payno, go.” In Louis’s feed, Liam looks too far away. It’s not the distance that’s the enemy, it’s getting Louis through the grid without tripping the alarm. It’s precision that can’t be done quickly. The moment they trip the alarm the whole building goes on lockdown, cutting Liam off too.

Liam curses. Louis’s face vanishes in his screen, replaced by the cord Liam’s hauling up, then the descent of darkness as he closes the vent.

Heart racing, Harry splits his attention between Liam and Louis, anxiously tracking Liam’s progress back through the building. Louis doesn’t move except to press his forehead against the wall of metal, completely still. He can’t risk alerting the guards or sounding the alarm before Liam’s far enough out.

“Lou, he’s on the roof.” Harry doesn’t need to whisper, but his voice comes out soft anyway. “It’s only four metres to the door.”

If anyone can get out, it’s Louis. He’s as expert at slipping through tight spaces as he is at picking every lock. Harry refuses to believe he can’t find a way through these.

Louis pushes out a slow breath, loud enough for Harry to hear through the wire. “I won’t make it, Haz. You know I can’t risk it.”

Fuck. Fuck. This possibility isn’t a surprise. They’ve got hundreds of contingency plans and this one is no different. Once Liam successfully drops the cache with Niall, he’ll go back for Louis. 

“Payno, report.”

“Three minutes.”

Three minutes to get to Niall and back. A dangerous gamble.

“Think you could go a mite faster there, Payno?” Louis mutters, voice light despite the tightness.

Another man has joined the security guard. They’re pointing at one of the feeds. Harry’s heart thuds as dread washes over him, pulse pumping in his jugular. 

“Damnit, I should be—”

“Right where the fuck you are,” Louis cuts him off, an edge to his words. They soften. Something indescribable leaks into his tone and slicks Harry’s palms with sweat. “Right where you need to be, Haz.”

“I need to be with you.” The words are out before Harry can stop them, but it’s the truth. If Harry were there this wouldn’t be an issue. He should be getting Louis out while Liam runs the line. They operate in pairs for a reason.

Louis hasn’t moved at all. His control is impressive. Off the clock he’s all manic energy. On a job every move he makes is precise and carefully thought out. None of them could possibly fill his role.

“One minute,” Liam reports. He’s scaling to the roof.

Footsteps echo through the corridor behind Louis. Russian voices, too far for the mic to pick up, so the internal translator won’t work. They stop outside the door. The bleeps of a keypad.

A torpedo of terror surges into Harry’s chest and ruptures.

“Hazza—”

“Niall, now! Liam, go!”

“Haz, I’m sorry... I’m in love with you.”

Niall’s explosives detonate. Louis’s feed goes dark. Harry’s heart gets caught in the blast.

>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*<>*< 

(Ok, I tried so hard to make this a drabble of 500 words. Then 1k. It wasn’t meant to be. This is the story the characters told me. I hope it fits the bill, love! I do enjoy me some spy AUs even though this is my first to write! Love my action and adventure!)

Have something else you’d like to see me write? Go wild! Pairing, situation, feeling… Send me an ask (anon or not) completing the sentence ‘I wish you’d write a fic where…’

Superpowers Drabble

Invisible Drabble

Only one bed (H-POV)

Only one bed (L-POV)

ABO new-omega!Louis drabble that became a fic on AO3.

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Baking Cookies

All Brothers x gn!MC

Format - Scenarios / Headcanons

Words - 2633

Content warnings - tooth-rotting fluff, some implied sexual activity (nothing explicitly stated or described)

Prompt/Inspiration - MC bakes cookies for Mammon, AO3 request

Summary - You spend the day baking cookies and spending some quality time with your favorite demon.

AO3

Scene -

Baking was perhaps one of your favorite hobbies. For special occasions you always whipped something up for your friends and family. And everyone could always count on you to bring oodles of cookies to holiday parties.

Since being in the Devildom, however, you haven’t been able to bake anything and you were sorely missing your hobby. Finally you decided to ask Lucifer about it and he arranged to have some human realm ingredients and kitchen appliances brought in for you.

While you were getting things set up in the kitchen, you suddenly felt some arms wrap around you from behind. When you turned to see who it was you saw….

Lucifer

He pressed a kiss to your temple when you turned to look at him, smiling warmly at you

He had come to check in on things and make sure that everything had arrived in working order

You thank him for his thoughtfulness, pecking him on the cheek in return

He wants to know what you plan on making, so you tell him about your favorite cookie recipe

He gives you another kiss to your head, and then says he has to go finish some RAD related things

But he asks that you bring him a cookie when they are done

And promises to come check on you later if he gets the chance

After spending most of the day in the kitchen, you finally have all your cookies on cooling racks

You realize then that no one else has bothered you all day

The fact that Beel never made an appearance strikes you as especially odd. You had even made extra so you could make sure you still had enough for everyone else if he popped in for a snack.

Hesitant to leave your cookies unattended, you text Lucifer and tell him that you’re done and voice your concerns

He explains he had placed a small spell on the door to keep the scent of your baking contained, so your cookies will be perfectly safe for the time it takes for you to bring him a couple yourself

When you arrive in his study, he’s still working diligently, but pauses briefly when you enter to call you over to his lap

Not wanting to stop working, he asks that you give him a bite

You of course give him what he wants, and assuming he’s trying to embarrass you, make sure to maintain eye contact with him the whole time

This results in a rare blushy Lucifer moment 😍

You take a bite of the same cookie, and he comments that there is some chocolate on your lips (there isn’t)

When you go to wipe it away, he stops your hand and kisses your lips

“Here, let me get that for you.”

After he pulls away, you smirk at him and inform him he has some chocolate on his own mouth

Needless to say, he isn’t getting much work accomplished after that

And it’s entirely possible that the rest of your cookies get discovered (and consumed) while you are...busy

Mammon

He’s very curious about what you’re up to

Wants to know if he can help, he’s kinda excited about the idea of making cookies from scratch

You tell him he can stay, but he has to listen to you exactly

He agrees “Of ‘course I can handle some bakin’. How hard can it be?”

Poor, sweet summer child

To his credit, he tries, he really does

But you finally have to stick him on “fetching detail” because of the utter chaos that results when he does anything else

There is flour everywhere, vanilla extract and other liquids are spilled on the counters, he’s probably dropped a few eggs too

By the time you get the first batch in the oven, you’re pretty worn out. It reminds you of baking with a small child, honestly.

You look up at Mammon, and he doesn’t seem to be having as much fun as you would have thought

He’s noticed the mess all over the kitchen, and starts to feel self conscious about how much trouble he’s caused

But you know the best way to distract him...is by teasing him

Hopping up on the counter next to the mixing bowl, you call him over so that he’s standing between your legs. He wraps his arms around your middle and rests his head on your shoulder

You return his hug, kissing his cheek, and thanking him for the help

“I couldn’t have done it without The Great Mammon.”

You then ask him if he knows what the best part of making cookies is

He lifts his head up to look at you, curious and feeling a tiny bit better

You then scoop some cookie dough out of the bowl with your finger, and act like you’re about to offer it to him, only to put it in your own mouth instead

He blushes. Hard. Which makes you smile

You go to do it again, and this time he catches your wrist and...helps himself to the cookie dough

After that, there is a lot of laughter and giggling that can be heard from the kitchen

In the end, you only manage to make a single batch of cookies, but you wouldn’t have had it work out any other way

Leviathan

He’s resting his head on your shoulder so you can’t see his face, so you give him a quick peck on the top of his head

You honestly hadn’t expected for Levi to join you, you knew he could bake too, but he had said he was busy today with whatever otaku stuff he does when you’re not there

He mumbles something about being bored and lonely, so you ask him if he wants to help and immediately perks up and agrees

You two make a great team, and manage to get things done in record time

You and Levi sit on the ground next to each other, backs against the cabinets, playing mobile games together, while the cookies are baking and cooling

The cookies you had decided to make were sugar cookies, thinking that Levi would get a kick out of decorating them

And you would be right

You’re amazed at the level of details he’s able to draw with royal icing. They’re almost too cute to eat

He’s a mixture of proud and embarrassed as you compliment him on his cookie decorating skills

You take lots of pictures so you can post on Devilgram and brag to everyone about your amazing boyfriend

Asmodeus is probably the first one to see your posts about the cookies and he hurries to the kitchen to see them himself

Cue another round of bragging about your boyfriend and his cookie decorating skills

Poor boy is getting pretty embarrassed now, especially since he can hear the rest of his brothers coming down the hall to see what all the fuss is about

So you gather up a plate of your favorites and make a hasty retreat with Levi to his bedroom, locking the door behind you

You climb into his tub with him, sitting between his legs and reclining onto his chest, with one of his arms around your waist

He puts on some movie that he knows you both enjoy, and you eat your cookies together while relaxing

When the movie is over (and the cookies all eaten), he hugs you close and hides his face in the crook of your neck

He tells you he’s had a lot of fun today, and that it was worth missing his gaming live streams for

And that’s probably like the sweetest damn thing he’s ever said to you 💗

Satan

He immediately asks you if he can help

He loves learning, so baking with you seems like a great way to pick up a new skill

He makes for a really great helper: follows directions to a T, asks plenty of questions, precise in his measurements

He’s also really good at keeping the kitchen neat and orderly

As you prepare to put the last batch of cookies in the oven, you watch Satan start cleaning up and wonder why his room is such a mess if he can be so meticulous in other areas

Once the cookies are in the oven, you begin to help Satan tidy up

Until…

You stumble a bit and Satan catches you

But...you had been carrying a bag of flour

Now...you are not carrying a bag of flour

Satan is covered in a POOF of white and you immediately start apologizing and trying to clean him off (while trying desperately not to laugh because honestly he looks pretty ridiculous)

He picks the bag of flour up off the flour, without saying a word, then looks at you, and then the bag, and then back at you before smirking

You start to get a very bad feeling about this

Before you can even blink, Satan has grabbed a handful of flour and tossed it right in your face

A food fight of epic proportions ensues

It does not stop until Lucifer can be heard stomping down the halls

“MAMMON what have I….”

Lucifer freezes when he enters the kitchen

You and Satan also freeze

And the three of you just stare at each other

“What is going on here…?” Lucifer finally asks

“Baking cookies…?” you reply

“...baking cookies…”

Lucifer then turns and leaves as quickly as he came. He does not have the time to deal with this. And it’s you who is at fault here. He’s not even sure what he’s supposed to do. Yell? Hang you from the rafters? He decides that’s a problem for….later.

You and Satan burst out laughing as soon as Lucifer is gone

A few sweet kisses are exchanged before you decide to actually clean up

Once the cookies are out of the oven and cooling, Satan invites you to his room for a much needed shower

“Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

And you are very much comfortable with it

Asmodeus

He’s come to check on you and see what all your excitement from earlier had been about

You explain about the cookie recipe you were going to be working on and ask if he wants to join you

He’s more than happy to help you, and was actually hoping you’d ask

He then presents you with a set of matching aprons to wear while you work, one for him and one for you

Asmo is a pretty good helper overall, but he’s very playful too

Lots of chocolate flavored kisses, cookie dough sampling, and pats on the ass

(You’ll probably have flour handprints on your ass, make sure to give him a matching set though)

It takes a little bit longer than normal for you to finish all you had planned, but you don’t mind. You really enjoyed having Asmo there to keep you company

While you start cleaning up, Asmo says he’s going to draw a bath for you so you can get cleaned off and relax

You make sure to grab a small plate of cookies to take with you, sorting the rest into pre-portioned and labeled boxes for the others to help themselves to

When you’re done, you join him in his room and are greeted by the most divine, relaxing scent you’ve ever experienced

Asmo emerges from the bathroom, wrapped in a robe and quickly helps you undress

The two of you slip into the tub together, with you sitting between his legs as he massages your shoulders, and your scalp while he washes your hair

You didn’t realize how tense your muscles had been from hunching over the kitchen counters all day, but he makes quick work of all the knots and kinks and soon you’re feeling much better

You then swap positions so you can pamper your favorite demon as well, he of course can’t resist making all sorts of exaggerated lewd sounds while you wash his hair, which leaves you giggling/chuckling

When you’re done, he leans back against you and you drape your arms over his shoulders and around his neck, just holding him close and enjoying the soothing warmth of the water

After the bath, the two of you curl up together in his bed, taking turns feeding each other the cookies you had set aside, smiling and flirting, exchanging lots of sweet kisses

The Attic Club Sandwich (Beelzebub / Belphegor)

It’s Belphie who has his arms wrapped around you, resting his chin on your shoulder

Since Beel had sports practice today, you decided it would be the perfect opportunity to bake him some cookies as a surprise

Belphie is there to...supervise

He spends most of your baking spree clinging to you or hanging off you in some form

But he does help out occasionally when you ask him to hand you things or put stuff in the oven

You catch him sneaking chunks of cookie dough, “for quality control purposes” he says

You let it go since you’ve already planned on baking a rather large quantity to make sure Beel would get enough to satisfy himself

With the last of the cookies in the oven, you start to clean up and Belphie hoists himself on top of the counter next to the mixing bowl, helping himself to any leftover remnants of cookie dough he can scrape off

Insists he’s helping by “cleaning the dishes”

As you wait for the final batch to cool, you spend some time just cuddling your beloved bratty demon, standing in between his legs while he buries his face in the crook of your neck and holds you close

Beel arrives home around then and heads straight for the kitchen to find out what smells so good

His face lights up when he sees you and Belphie

You see Beel and greet him with a smile, walking over to give him a sample cookie

He lets you feed it to him, blushing like the adorable teddy bear he is

Satisfied that your cookies have been Beel Approved™️, you send Beel away to shower, exchanging a quick peck before he goes, and letting him know y’all will be waiting in the bedroom with the rest of the cookies when he’s done

Happy boi hurries off to take the quickest shower of his life, and you and Belphie head to the twins room

Belphie decides he can be a bit helpful and agrees to carry the rather large box of cookies for you

Which leaves your hands free to loop through his arm and walk with him

While you wait for Beel, you sit in Belphie’s bed and he snuggles up against you, his head resting on your lap and his arms wrapped around your legs

Says he doesn’t need any cookies since he ate enough while helping(?) you

He falls asleep almost instantly, baking(?) cookies is a lot of work for him

It doesn’t take long for Beel to finish washing up and join you on the bed, wearing some comfy lounge pants, wrapping his arm around your shoulders

He lets you feed him cookies for awhile, exchanging lots of sweet chocolate chip flavored kisses in between

He’s so happy and thankful that you thought of him today and prepared something special just for him, you make sure to tell him Belphie helped too and his smile gets even broader

When you start to feel tired, you rest your head on his shoulder and he polishes off the rest of the cookies on his own

Beel then presses a kiss to the top of your head, before snuggling closer to you, hugging you tight

Feeling warm, relaxed, and secure, you drift off to sleep between your two favorite demons

[dreamrecorder]

Until then, we will find each other again. <||>

fluff & angst drabble, reincarnation au, modern au

| Xiao x Reader | Diluc x Reader |

Note: I'm sorry that I can't put the cut thingy bcos im writing in mobile. Once I get ahold of my laptop I'll put the cut thingy. Happy reading^^ i swear these were supposed to be short but welp

Xiao

Notes: Immortal companion* - Just think of someone immortal from the game. This is also a different take from Venti's and Zhongli's because I honestly think Xiao is so done with immortality and its consequences.

Suicide implicitly mentioned.**

Xiao is mourning for the passing of his immortal companion*, making him the last immortal to walk the world. Now, it is he, who last remains from a time of gods and monsters. Each passing of a mutual, he witnessed. They deemed it was their time to move on, for humanity has succeeded to bring fate into their own two hands. The world no longer needed them.

Xiao has already suffered loss way before the Archon War. Yet, he never expressed the emotion of grief for he needed to be strong lest the world will eat him alive. However, this passing made his heart of glass, chip a little, then shattering the whole thing altogether. Or perhaps, it was already chipped away and too fragile because of the losses that has culminated in his immortal life.

Now, he lays on the roof of a building of what used to be Wangshu Inn. He was trying hard not to break down again. By doing so, he merely cursed fate over and over again. Yet, to no avail, the man exploded in tears once more, too tired from all the pain and loss suffered from millenias.

Then... there's you. You who uttered the words, "Until then, we will find each other again."

With all sincerity he can muster, he wanted to believe those words. He wanted to believe in you. That's why he stayed. Yet... the pain he feels heavily overweighs his faith in you.

**

He just wants to... end it all.

"I just want to disappear..."

**

No one heard him utter those words, only the wind. And the wind- just as once the Anemo Archon had said, carries the words one thinks no one can hear.

It came like a whisper, yet loud and clear. Then all of a sudden, the memories of your previous life flashed before your eyes. You dropped the book you were holding and held your temples at the incoming migraine.

"Are you alright?" You friends asked in worry, looking for any visible signs of pain aside from your clenched eyes and your frowning expression.

You could only groan as a reply and your friends waited for you to take your time to recollect yourself.

Who... Whose voice? You knew this voice... But who?

You finally removed your hands and opened your eyes.

"I- I have to go... Go without me." Was all you said before leaving your friends in the dust who looked at your way with confusion.

Who? Many questions riddled your mind. And with all these unanswered, worry and anxiety grew in your heart. Tears began to swell in your eyes, worsening your headache.

This is not about you! You have to look for... something! Someone! Just-

"Dear gods, please please don't you dare fucking take him..."

You sprinted around the area, following and listening to that now faint whisper under the night. The whispers only became clearer and louder when you approached a building which used to be an inn.

The moment you stepped foot within the building, the lone whisper became mixed with more words which did not lift your heart.

Fuck.

With pure adrenaline, you opted to use the stairs instead of the damn elevator. You have finally reached the door leading to the rooftop, and at that point, the whispers became screams. However, when your hand grasped the handle, the voice in the wind stopped. You opened the door at full to be met by the back of the man who stands at the railing.

Xiao...?

Xiao..

Xiao.

"Xiao!"

At the call of his name by a familiar voice, his head whipped to its direction. But he shall not be fooled.

"You... you're not real."

The words along with lifeless eyes stabbed you.

"It's me, Xiao! Y/n! Don't do this! I'm sorry I took so long! But I'm here now! Just as I had promised!"

Your heart was beating against your ribcage. You had to prove you were real. But how?

"You're just an illusion made by my heart."

"Xiao, please! Fuck I'm really sorry! But please you don't have to do this... I... I remember everything, Xiao... All those times we battled in the war. Those times we shared almond tofu. The times we smiled, cried, laughed, and fought...

I remember everything..."

For each word you uttered, you grew confident in your memories. For each word, you took a step closer. For each word, you saw life coming back to the man you love.

"So please... Come back..."

At the final word, you released all your sincerity, genuity, and adoration for him. And finally, your hands took purchase in his (while trying so hard not to shed any tear for his sake).

"It's me."

...

"Y/n...?"

You beamed at him and finally, Xiao's eyes were now shining in clarity, and of course, life and love.

Diluc has been reincarnated many times, yet still has not found you. Through his reincarnated forms, he alternated between travelling and staying in Mondstadt. The former done in order to find you. The latter done in the chance you would find him there.

Diluc

For the first time in his many lifetimes, his current form surprised him. When he reached 'sixteen', his memories resurfaced and the realization sank in. His appearance ended just as how he looked in his first ever lifetime. The only difference was the length of his hair. He even ended up being reincarnated in the Ragnvindr Family along with inheriting the winery business.

To put it bluntly, walking within the old yet maintained Ragnvindr Mansion was a memory lane. However, the moment of reminiscence only gave him a heavy heart, for within these halls used to be filled with your laughter.

In this very same spot where he currently stands, is where you uttered your last words.

"Until then, we will find each other again."

Walking aimlessly around the mansion, he thinks about those long, long years without you. Must be fate so cruel? Making him search far and wide, when in the end fate does not want you to return to him? The man clenched his fists, and in anger, punched the nearby wall.

He expected a bursting kind of pain to come, yet what came was a dull throb on his knuckles. Yet this is not only what he had not expected. He did not expect for the wall to respond with a resounding hollowness.

A hidden corridor? Room? When had the family installed this?

Curiosity held him and began kicking the hollow wall without hesitation. What secrets does it hide from all these years, he shall know. Once the wall opened up for him to fit, he entered with a lit phone in hand at extreme brightness.

Again, what he saw, he had not expected. What he saw both filled and emptied his heart simultaneously. What he saw was a painting of you and him, together in a moment of shared happiness.

"Dilu-" His mother called which snapped out of his trance. His head snapped at her direction and saw her eyes fill with solemness.

"I didn't mean to-"

His mother hushed him with a gentle smile and entered the room to stand alongside him.

"You know," his mother began, "I always believed in the fantasy that had been once in our world. Lord Barbatos, the other Archons, the Twins that saved our world, Visions, and... reincarnation. I always believed in them.

The moment I saw your features when you were born, I knew you were the reincarnation of the Uncrowned King of Mondstadt... So I named you after him because I knew your memories would resurface someday. I knew the day would come when my son will no longer be my son. Because when that day comes, all I would see in your eyes is a long unspoken wisdom and pain that will replace your innocence free from battles and war."

Diluc was surprised, yet kept his emotions to himself. He understood what his mother was pointing at. "Is... Is this why this picture is hidden?"

His mother nodded solemnly. "Perhaps, I was afraid and scared about when the day I spoke of will take place. That's why I ordered this painting be hidden. I knew this painting of you and Lady Y/n will unlock your memories sooner, but I didn't want that."

For once in his lifetimes, his heart softened with love. The kind of love that assures you that someone cares for you. Never in his reincarnated lifetimes, had he experienced this feeling. All those years, he was just... lost in the feelings and thoughts of not being with you.

The man stepped towards his mother with hesitation to which he instantly erased. He hugged his mother with a soft spoken voice saying these words.

"I will always be your son and you will always be my mother. That will never change. I may be 'older' than you, but please do remember that I would not have grown to who am I today without your guidance. For that, I deeply thank you for taking care of me...

I love you, Mom."

With his words, his mother burst into light tears accompanied by a smile. "Don't make me cry, I'm going to wrinkle." Diluc laughed at the comment. After a loving moment, the two separated yet his mother still held onto his arms.

"You've grown so much... I guess little birds do leave the nest someday."

"It wouldn't be possible without you."

His mother looked at him with a proud gaze, "Go. Find her. If memory serves right, I might have seen someone like her dwell everyday in the local library."

The man released his breath he never knew he was holding. Diluc hugged his mom again with a peck on her cheek. He then let go and began to exit the room with haste.

"Once I come home, I will tell you everything. Venti, Morax, the Twin Travelers, the Archons, and Visions. I will tell you everything."

With a rush, Diluc was now out of sight. Yet, the Madam Ragnvindr was not saddened. Her heart swelled for her son whose eyes are finally, once more lit with happiness. However, who's Venti?

A/n: welp truth be told diluc's story took an unexpected turn lol. It's either I'm going to leave this like that or continue it. Take your pick by commenting because I'm actually fine with either options haha happy reading <3

[t0wnspersonb]

Reignition (Kozume Kenma x Reader)

Word Count: 2,147

Anonymous said:

Hi! I love your work so much! I was wondering if you could do a Kenma x reader? Where theyre really good childhood friends, but she moved to miyagi (karasuno) for highschool. So then they meet at the training camp and have rekindled feelings?? Sorry if yhis doesnt make sense! Again, I love your work so much!!!!

~~~~

I don’t know why I made this one so long lol. This was a lot of fun to write, anything that has to do with the training camp makes me so happy lmao. I hope you like this one anon! I hope I was able to write it how you wanted!

Another reminder that requests are closing on Saturday! I’m going through them all slowly but surely, after I finish these requests I probably won’t be taking them again for a while, so I can write up some other stories of mine to share with you guys! Anyway, I hope you guys are having a good week!

~~~~

You sighed in exhaustion as you walked through the doors with the chaotic duo. You were never going to babysit these two ever again, no matter what Daichi or Sugawara said.

 If it wasn’t for them you would have already been at the training camp with everyone else, helping Shimizu and Yachi with the manager duties. But fate just wasn’t one your side this time, fearing that the two would ditch their supplementary exams and try to go to Tokyo on their own, Daichi had requested that you stay with them until the exams were done.

 Which meant that you had to also suffer through a crazy drive with Big Sister Saeko, and as much as you loved her, you just so happened to love your life just a tad bit more to never want to suffer through that again. 

 Now you were just exhausted, luckily from the looks of it the practice matches were going to be wrapping up soon, which meant food, showering and a good night’s sleep.

 You sighed once again, your eyes flickering over to your team, you could feel multiple pairs of eyes on you as the three of you walked further into the gym.

 “Thanks for watching them Y/n-chan.” Daichi called out as you approached everyone.

 “You owe me senpai.” was all you said as you walked passed them towards Shimizu and Yachi, wanting to get caught up on what happened while you were gone; completely oblivious to two pairs of lingering eyes coming from the Nekoma team.

 “Must be nice having three managers,” Kuroo muttered, his eyes focusing in on your small figure. “I wonder if that one is new like the blonde one.”

 Of course, everyone’s eyes lingered on your figure a tad bit longer than necessary, curious as to why Karasuno managed to have three managers, and well, because you were incredibly cute. It was fitting that you too would be part of the team, considering there were already two other cute managers.

 The lucky bastards. 

 “Shoyo had mentioned earlier that they convinced one of their managers to come back to the team…” Kenma said quietly, his cat-like eyes following your every movement. “That’s probably her…”

 Of course, Kenma had noticed how good looking you were, but the air of familiarity was too much. He couldn’t help but wonder if he had met you before.

 “Why must the universe be so cruel!?” Yamamoto cried out. 

 Kenma sighed to himself. There was never any peace.

 ***

 “Ne, ne Shoyo! Who was that other manager that walked in with you!?” Inuoka asked curiously.

 Even though Kenma never removed his eyes from his game, he couldn’t help but to sit up straighter, ears perked up. Of course, he was curious too, you seemed incredibly familiar to him. 

 “Oh Y/n-senpai!” Hinata grinned. “She’s a second year at Karasuno, she’s been a manager since her first year.”

 “How come I didn’t see her at the practice match?” Inuoka pondered aloud.

 “Y/n-senpai’s health is very fragile! She was sick for a while and her parents made her quit. But she loves volleyball so much that she begged to come back to the team. Plus, she’s really pretty and a good manager!” Hinata gloated, eyes shining brightly.

 Y/n… Kenma ignored the sudden race to his heart. He knew that name, he knew that name very well. In all honesty, he had never expected hearing it again, much less seeing you again.

 It had been years.

 He couldn’t help but wonder if you remembered him too. 

 Of course, he would remember you, his first love. The one that got away, the other person that he used to play with when he was younger other than - oh that’s right, Kuroo.

 Did Kuroo recognize you too?

 You did look different from when you were younger now that he thinks about it. 

 But then again, he looked different too. Kuroo maybe not so much. Just bigger, still just as annoying though.

 “Well I should get going. We’re playing you guys first thing in the morning!” Hinata said, waving goodbye.

 First thing in the morning?

 Then maybe… he could see you again, right?

 ****

 It was too early, way too early; especially with how rowdy the boys were already being.

 It wasn’t just your boys either, but four extra teams on top of yours? 

 How were you going to survive this training camp?

 “You’ve been sighing a lot this morning, Y/n-chan. Are you feeling okay? Do you need to go rest?” Shimizu asked, a slight concern to her voice.

 “I’m fine senpai; I’m just thinking about how lively everyone is. It’s going to be a long trip isn’t it?” You grimaced, eyes scanning the sea of boys that were currently eating breakfast right now and -

 “Oi! Yuu! Leave Tsukki alone before you break his glasses!” You called out to the libero, pointing the ladle in your hand at him accusingly, eyebrow raised as if daring him to challenge you. 

 The said male apologized, releasing his grip on the tall blonde and sitting down.

 You sighed again, ignoring the giggles of the other managers around you.

 “Y/n-chan is the best at handling our first-year duo and second year duo. They always listen to her, and she’s always looking out for them.” Shimizu explained, a small smile grazing her lips. 

 “Unwillingly.” You stated, “apparently my title as a manager has ‘babysitter’ in it. If I knew Daichi-senpai was going to make me watch those four when he can’t I wouldn’t have come back.” You started saying as you began serving the boys that finally came in for breakfast.

 “I guess I do have some practice,” you begin saying, eyes fixated on the food in front of you as you serve. “when I was younger, I used to play with these two boys that were -” your eyes widened as you looked up to the next set of boys you were about to plate.

 Kuroo looked at you in shock for a moment before a wide grin stretched across his face. While Kenna stood there frozen, although his heart rate was through the roof. 

 “Oya oya oya. If it isn’t little Y/n-chan. I didn’t even recognize you the other day. Who would have thought you’d be a manager at our rival school?” Kuroo said slyly.

 “Tetsu… You look the same.” you grimaced.

 “Oi why are you making that face!?” Kuroo huffed angrily before his eyes slid over to Kenma who was just… staring at you.

 The sweetest smile grazed your lips, your eyes wide and bright and… were you blushing?

 “Kenma.” You said softly.

 He could have died right there, it felt like all the bars in his health evaporated into nothing as soon as you looked at him and said his name. 

 He definitely died and went straight to heaven; especially with a smile like that. 

 “Y/n.” he mumbled softly, eyes flickering away from you, burning holes into his food, ignoring the two pair of eyes that were now staring at him.

 “You’re still just as shy as before.” you laughed softly as you served your childhood friends.

 “We’ll have to catch up sometime Y/n-chan.” Kuroo said before walking off to find a table. 

 “Kenma.” you called out before he could scurry away with Kuroo. He glanced at you once more, pausing for you to continue.

 “I’ve missed you. We should catch up soon.” you said quietly, a soft blush beginning to coat your cheeks.

 “Yeah.” he nodded at you once more before walking off, leaving your heart racing and your cheeks flushed.

 Even after all these years... could that be considered true love? You wondered, ignoring the giggles, and pointed looks all of the other girls were giving you.

 But internally you were squealing as well.

 ****

 The next couple of days you did exactly what you said you would do; you caught up with your childhood friends. 

 When you had finally returned for the week-long training camp, you were glued to the Nekoma team, much to Karasuno’s annoyance.

 Right now, you were handing out watermelon, a sweet smile glued to your face as you made sure your boys got some and then making sure that Nekoma did as well. 

 “Do you want seconds Kenma?” you asked, sitting next to the pudding haired boy. His eyes slid over to you before he shook his head and took out his phone, pulling up a mobile game.

 You scooted closer to him, your head finding his shoulders, eyes glued to the screen.

 You felt Kenma stiffen at the sudden contact, but soon relaxed as you guys drifted into comfortable silence. 

 This was all too familiar, you would always watch Kenma play video games when you were younger, it was entertaining and it didn’t involve strenuous work, which meant it was great for you due to your fragile health. 

 Plus, you got to be close to him, that was another bonus.

 Kenma ignored the racing of his heart and tried to beat down the smugness that filled his body as he received envious looks from the others. 

 The two of you were always close, you were the one person he didn’t mind receiving affection from, although it never really appeared that way.

 “Oi Y/n-chan, can you fill up our water bottles before the next match?” Kuroo called out. 

 “I’m not your manager Tetsurou. But I guess.” You rolled your eyes at him, heaving yourself up and dusting off your shorts.

 “I’ll go with you Y/n.” Kenma said quietly, putting his phone back into his pocket as he stood up.

 You couldn’t help the blush and smile that spread across your face at his offer, that just meant you got to spend more time with him, you’d fill up Nekoma’s water bottles any day if it meant more time with Kenma.

 Kenma was quiet as you talked about everything and anything as you guys walked towards the water fountains.

 It wasn’t that he was ignoring you, rather, his head was consumed by thoughts of you. He wanted to voice his feelings, he could only assume that you liked him too, from the way you acted around him, the way you treated him.

 Even though you guys were apart for years, it felt like you had never left his side. Everything was familiar, everything was comfortable, he liked that, he liked that a lot.

 “- As much as I admire and respect my senpais, it’s just not fair that they want me to teach those two on top of babysitting them and -” 

 “Y/n.” Kenma interrupted your animated storytelling, his slender fingers gently grabbing at your hand that held a water bottle.

 You looked up at him in surprise. 

 Why…. why was he looking at you like that? You could feel heat beginning to creep up into your cheeks, your stomach twisting with butterflies.

 Kenma’s piercing eyes bore into your own, there was a softness to them, but there was also a hardened look of determination.

 “What’s wrong?” You asked quietly, placing the water bottle down and you turned your body towards him completely. 

 He grasped both of your hands in his, eyes flickering down to stare at them before they softly trailed up your arms until they rested gently on top of your shoulders.

 “Do you like me?” he asked, peering down at you.

 “W-What are you talking about?” you asked nervously, eyes flickering away from his intense gaze. “O-Of course I like you Kenma, you’re my best -”

 “That’s not what I mean.” He cut you off. “If you don’t like me then you can push me away, but I’m not going to hold back anymore.” 

 “What do you mean hold back -”

 Oh.

 Oh.

 He was kissing you. Kenma’s lips were surprisingly soft and slightly cold, but they fit perfectly against your own. The kiss was lingering and gentle, hesitant almost.

 But it was your first kiss.

 Your first kiss with your best friend, your crush since childhood, your first love. It was… it was perfect. 

 This was perfect.

 All too soon he pulled away, taking a small step back to give you some space.

 Both of your faces flushed.

 Someone cleared their throat loudly, causing you guys to jump further away from each other.

 “I was wondering what was taking you guys so long.” Kuroo grinned wickedly. “If I would have known you guys were sucking face, I wouldn’t have come.”

 “Shut up Kuroo.” Kenma scowled.

 “So… did you guys finally confess to each other?” he asked, ignoring him completely.

 “Y/n is mine.” Kenma said simply, finishing up the last water bottle, grabbing your hand gently and tugging you away. “Since you’re here Kuroo you can take the water bottles back to the gym.” 

 A soft giggle escaped your lips as he tugged you away, causing a small smile to erupt on his face.

 “Damn you Kenma!” Kuroo yelled out.