#if it feels wrong after giving time then there's nothing wrong about reconsider and try again

[modelsof-color]

when it comes to self love , we know it's all about making decisions , decisions that will hurt us because at first it feels like we're " betraying" old convictions .

it's important to be aware of it , on emotional and mental level , aware of these decisions haunting us until the day it won't anymore , and awareness is half of the battle

[honeyhae-svt]

Misdated

Kwon Soonyoung / Hoshi FANFICTION (oneshot)

Afab!READER x Kwon Soonyoung - MDNI!!!

GENRE: Angst., Fluff, Smut, Friends to Lovers, Fem!Reader x Non-idol!Hoshi, r18+ (should've been 16+ but since there's smut. oof)

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️: Major red flags on both reader and Hoshi, Smut, Unprotected Sex, Angst., Fingering, Kissing, Dating.

wc: 11'507

(english is not my first language, so i apologize for any typographical or grammatical errors :/)

Synopsis: You've been on date after date, searching for the right one. But something—or someone—keeps pulling you back. What happens when the person you've been trying to avoid is the one you can’t stop thinking about?

>>>pictures are from 📌, CTTO

a/n: enjoy, loves!!!

Nothing beats walking through the rain in your favorite rainy weather outfit, ice cream in hand, while telling your boy best friend about another failed date. Hoshi, ever the good friend, holds the umbrella for both of you, shielding you from the soft drizzle. You’ve just come back from yet another blind date—the fourth one this month—and, unsurprisingly, it went horribly wrong.

"I don’t get it," you groan, shaking your head. "Why is it so hard to find the love of my life?"

Hoshi, your best friend for almost a decade, listens attentively. He always does. Every single time a date crashes and burns, he’s right there with advice, or at the very least, a sympathetic ear. But tonight, he’s laughing at your misery, and you can’t help but glare at him.

This morning, you'd asked a friend to set you up with someone. The guy seemed like your type—at least physically—and he was all too eager to meet you right away. That should’ve been a red flag. But you went along with it. How bad could it be, right?

Well, turns out, very bad. Minutes into the date, things got awkward. He started making inappropriate jokes, the kind that made you chuckle just to fill the silence. "You’d look even prettier without clothes," he had said, his smirk making your skin crawl. When he asked, "Are you good in bed?" you were already planning your exit. And when he tried to kiss you, suggesting you ditch the fancy restaurant and head to a hotel, you didn’t even bother finishing your drink. You just stood up and left.

And now, here you are, telling Hoshi about what is easily the worst date of your life, and he’s laughing.

"Hey! It’s not funny," you scold, narrowing your eyes at him.

Hoshi quickly stops, though you see the amused glint still dancing in his eyes. "I’m just saying… maybe it’s time to take a break from dating?"

His words make you pause. You have been feeling burned out. And he knows it too well, which makes your heart flutter. You’ve always felt this way around him—this soft, warm feeling. But you’ve buried it, time and time again. He’s your best friend, after all. And there’s no way you’re risking that, especially when you know he likes someone else. The thought stings a little more than you’d care to admit.

Sensing your mood shift, Hoshi changes the subject, ever the master of lifting your spirits. "You didn’t eat yet, right? Let’s get some meat. My treat."

Your eyes light up. "I want beef!"

He sighs, pretending to reconsider for a moment, but you know he’ll give in. He always does. It’s you, after all.

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

You watched him grill the meat, the sizzle of beef filling the quiet between you. The way his fingers moved—so sure, so practiced—made you think about how well you knew him, how effortlessly things flowed between you two. It had always been that way.

But lately, something had shifted. You blinked away the thoughts when his hand brushed yours, sending a wave of warmth through your body. It was small, fleeting, but enough to make you feel a bit more aware of him, more sensitive to his presence.

"You okay?" he asked, noticing your daze.

"Yeah," you lied, forcing a smile.

Hoshi didn’t look convinced, his gaze lingering on you as if he could sense something was off. You couldn’t possibly tell him the truth—about the way you’d been feeling lately, about how your heart sped up whenever you were around him. And even if you did (which you wouldn't), he'd probably just laugh, thinking it was some kind of joke.

"You know," he began, picking at his food, "if this whole dating thing doesn’t work out, you could always just... date me."

You choked on your drink, blinking rapidly as if to make sure you’d heard him right. "W-What?"

He laughed it off quickly. "I'm kidding, kidding! Jeez, your reaction." But then his voice softened. "I mean—" He trailed off, and for a second, you thought he might have meant it. And that small flicker of hope disappointed you more than you’d expected.

You felt a sudden rush of heat to your face, but you forced a chuckle. "Yeah, right."

Hoshi took a bite of beef, glancing at you with an expression that made your heart race. "Actually," he said, "I’ve been meaning to ask you something."

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow, half-expecting another joke, or worse, a reminder of your disastrous date.

"I’ve been telling you about this girl... and I think I really like her." His words hit you like a punch to the gut. Still, you smiled, trying to sound as enthusiastic as you could. "Oh? Who is she?"

You braced yourself as he continued, each word making you feel a little more hollow. "You know her. She’s really cool, funny, great to talk to—"

You nodded along, keeping up appearances, but inside, you wanted to tune him out. You were dying to know who this girl was—partly to see if she was worthy of him, and partly to understand why you felt this ache deep in your chest. Not that you would ever stand in their way, but you couldn’t help but wonder if she even knew how to handle someone like Hoshi—the grown ass man who believed he was a tiger.

"I just... I want to tell her how I feel, lately," he continued, his voice trailing with a hint of uncertainty.

"Yeah, you should totally do that," you replied, shoving more food into your mouth, trying to occupy yourself. Stress-eating, maybe. Or maybe you just didn’t want to think about it anymore. You couldn’t exactly change the subject now—it’d be too obvious, too rude.

Dinner continued, but his words lingered in your mind, making everything else feel like background noise. He talked about her for most of the meal, and you nodded along, your responses automatic. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the sinking feeling.

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

As you stepped outside, the rain had started to pour again. Hoshi was quick to pop open the umbrella, and you both squeezed under its small space, your shoulders brushing with each step. The cool air mingled with the warmth radiating between you, and you couldn’t help but notice how close you were.

"You sure you’re okay?" he asked, his eyes flicking over to you with that familiar concern—the kind that always made your heart skip a beat.

"Yeah," you murmured, though the word felt flimsy, insubstantial. You were hyper-aware of his presence, the way his warmth seemed to envelop you in the cool, rainy night.

"You don’t seem like it," he murmured, stopping in his tracks. The rain poured around you, drowning out the noise of the world, leaving only the two of you standing still in the quiet storm.

You looked at him, confused as to why he had stopped so suddenly. He was looking at you differently now, as if waiting for you to say something. Your mind raced, but all you could manage was a simple, "Thanks for treating me tonight." You nudged him playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "And I’m fine," you added with a forced smile.

He studied you for a moment longer, before nodding. "No problem."

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

Hoshi walked you to your door, his usual playful smile hovering at the corner of his lips. But there was something in the way he looked at you, something softer, something almost... hesitant. Or maybe this is just you being delusional.

"Goodnight," he said, his voice unusually quiet, as if something weighed on him.

"Goodnight," you echoed, a lump forming in your throat. You wanted to say something more—anything that would break through the unspoken tension between you—but the words just wouldn’t come.

You stood there, watching as he turned to leave, the rain falling harder now, watching him as he disappeared into the street.

And for the first time, you felt a sense of dread that maybe—just maybe—things were about to change.

The next day, you woke up the next morning, the soft patter of rain lingering as if it hadn’t stopped all night. The memory of last night hung heavy on your mind—Hoshi's words about dating him, the girl he supposedly liked. It left you confused and restless. He was your best friend, but lately, there were feelings bubbling up that you couldn’t ignore.

You sighed, rolling out of bed. You needed a distraction, something to shake off these emotions. Maybe today, you’d figure out your next move.

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

At work, your phone buzzed during lunch. You opened the message to see your friend who had set you up on the blind date.

Friend: "Okay, I know the last one didn’t go so well, but I have someone new for you! Interested?"

Your thoughts instantly flew back to Hoshi's advice from the night before. Maybe you should stop dating. But that wasn’t the solution you were looking for. You were dating for a reason, after all, a reason you hadn’t fully admitted to yourself.

You were dating because of Hoshi.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought that if you dated enough people, maybe you’d stop thinking about him. Maybe you’d find someone who could replace those feelings, and everything would be easier. But that hadn’t worked so far. Maybe this next date would be different.

You: "Okay. Set me up."

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

By the afternoon, you had plans for the weekend. Your friend had set you up with Junhui, someone you had heard about but never really known well. He seemed nice, charming, and maybe, just maybe, this could be the distraction you needed.

But the entire time, Hoshi lingered in the back of your mind.

Later that evening, Hoshi texted you, asking if you wanted to grab dinner. Your heart did a strange flip—like it always did when you heard from him. But this time, you hesitated. You didn’t know how to face him after last night, after everything he said. And now, with Junhui in the picture, it felt even more complicated.

Still, you agreed to meet him.

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

The moment you sat down across from Hoshi at your usual spot, you could tell something was off. He wasn’t his usual playful self, and the silence between you was palpable. Maybe he could sense that something had changed between you two as well.

"So," Hoshi finally said, breaking the tension. "How’s the whole dating thing going?"

You swallowed, trying to find the right words. "I actually have a date this weekend."

His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and you couldn’t miss the flicker of something—was it jealousy?—in his eyes. You didn't listen to his advice, which made him feel a little disappointed. "With who?"

"Junhui," you answered casually, but inside, you were bracing for his reaction.

Hoshi nodded slowly, his expression hard to read. One that you've never seen him make before when you told him about the dates you were going to. "Oh. That’s cool."

But it wasn’t cool. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes. Something in the air between you shifted again, and you wondered if you’d made a mistake.

As the week passed, the awkwardness between you and Hoshi grew. He was distant, not his usual self. But you tried to focus on your upcoming date with Junhui, convincing yourself that it was exactly what you needed to move on from whatever confusing feelings you had for Hoshi.

Meanwhile, Hoshi was struggling with his own emotions. He hadn’t meant to make things weird between you two, but the idea of you dating someone else—especially Junhui—was driving him insane. And the worst part? He couldn’t even tell you.

Every time he mentioned the girl he liked, he was talking about you. He had never actually said your name in the stories he told, and you were always too wrapped up in your own thoughts to realize it. But how could he tell you now, when it seemed like you were moving on?

So he did the only thing he could think of to forget about you: he went on a date too.

On the weekend

You had a great time with Junhui. He was sweet, funny, and everything you’d hope for in a date. But as the night went on, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop comparing him to Hoshi.

Still, you pushed those thoughts aside, determined to make the most of the night.

But then, as you were leaving the restaurant with Junhui, you spotted something that made your heart drop.

Hoshi was across the street—with another girl.

Your breath caught in your throat. So this was the girl he had been talking about all this time? The one he liked? You felt a sharp pang of jealousy, one that you couldn’t ignore.

Junhui noticed the sudden change in your demeanor and followed your gaze. "You okay?"

You forced a smile. "Yeah, I’m fine."

But you weren’t. Not at all.

The next few days were a blur. You tried to focus on your work, on Junhui, on anything but Hoshi. But the image of him with that girl kept haunting you, and every time you thought about it, your chest tightened with an uncomfortable mix of jealousy and sadness.

You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t care—that Hoshi was your best friend and nothing more. But you couldn’t lie to yourself any longer. The truth was, you had feelings for him. You had for a long time.

But it was too late now. He was already moving on, just like you had tried to.

The following week, the days stretched longer than usual as you and Hoshi tried to settle into your respective relationships. But no matter how hard you both tried, things weren't falling into place. You found yourself smiling through conversations with Junhui, but your mind was often elsewhere—on Hoshi. And Hoshi? He was doing his best to move forward with the girl he was dating, but you still lingered in his thoughts like a stubborn echo.

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

Hoshi sat across from his date at a cozy café, doing his best to focus on the girl in front of him. She was lovely, with a bright smile and eyes that sparkled when she laughed. But despite how nice she was, his mind kept wandering to you.

"So, how was your day?" she asked, sipping her coffee. Her voice was sweet, but it barely registered.

"It was good," Hoshi replied, forcing a smile. But in his head, he kept replaying the last time he had hung out with you. How different it felt now, how everything seemed heavier between you two. He couldn’t help but wonder if you were thinking about him, too.

"Hoshi?" she asked, snapping him out of his daze.

"Sorry, what?" he blinked, trying to refocus. His date gave him a concerned look.

"I asked how your day was," she repeated, a hint of uncertainty in her voice. "You’ve been kind of distracted lately."

"Oh, right," he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "I guess I’ve just been... thinking a lot."

She gave him a small smile, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes. "Anything you want to talk about?"

Hoshi hesitated, knowing full well that what he wanted to talk about was you—but how could he admit that? He was dating this girl to forget about you, to move on from whatever was stirring inside him. But every moment with her just made him think of you more.

"Nah, it’s nothing," he shrugged, trying to shake it off. He needed to focus. This was supposed to help him move on, right? So why did it feel like the more he tried, the harder it became?

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

Later that night, after dinner, Hoshi walked his date to her apartment. The entire evening had been filled with small talk, but nothing felt quite right. He couldn't stop replaying the times he had walked you home, the easy conversations, the way your laughter filled the space between you. The comparison was driving him insane.

As they reached her door, she turned to him, smiling softly. "Thanks for tonight. It was really nice."

Hoshi nodded, trying to keep his thoughts in check. "Yeah, it was."

But as she leaned in to give him a quick kiss goodnight, his mind went completely blank. Instead of her name, the one that slipped from his lips was—

"Y/N..."

The moment the name left his mouth, he froze, his heart dropping. His date pulled back, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Did you just... call me Y/N?" she asked, her voice a mix of confusion and hurt.

Hoshi’s face turned pale, panic surging through him. "I-I didn’t mean—"

She stepped back, crossing her arms over her chest defensively. "Who is Y/N?"

Hoshi stammered, trying to find a way out of the situation, but the truth was stuck in his throat. He couldn’t lie—his mind was so consumed by thoughts of you that he had forgotten who he was with.

"She’s... just my best friend," he muttered, his voice small. But even as he said it, he realized how much weight those words held. "It was a mistake, I’m sorry."

His date studied him for a moment, her expression softening slightly. "Look, Hoshi, I like you. But if you’re still hung up on someone else... maybe we should talk about this."

Hoshi swallowed hard, guilt twisting in his gut. "I don’t know. I just—"

"Maybe you need to figure out what you really want," she said, cutting him off gently but firmly. "Before you keep dating other people."

He nodded, feeling a wave of regret wash over him. "Yeah, maybe you’re right."

With that, she gave him a small, understanding smile before turning and heading inside, leaving him standing alone on the doorstep. Hoshi stared after her, his mind racing. He had tried so hard to push his feelings for you away, but it was becoming painfully clear that no matter what he did, they weren’t going anywhere.

The next day

Meanwhile, things with Junhui were going smoothly—on the surface. You two had a fun day planned, and you were determined to focus on him, to stop your mind from wandering back to Hoshi.

But that morning, when your phone buzzed with a message from Hoshi asking to meet up later, your heart skipped a beat.

You couldn’t ignore how complicated things were getting. Every time you tried to focus on Junhui, Hoshi was there—whether in your thoughts or in reality. And after last night’s date with Junhui, you couldn’t help but feel a weird sense of guilt. As if you were betraying something between you and Hoshi that wasn’t even defined.

When you met Hoshi that afternoon, the air between you was awkward—more than usual. You sat at a café, nursing your coffee, while Hoshi stirred his drink absentmindedly.

"So... how was your date?" he asked, his tone neutral, though his eyes betrayed something deeper.

You shrugged, trying to keep things light. "It was nice. Junhui’s really sweet."

Hoshi nodded slowly, but the tension in his jaw was hard to miss. "That’s good."

Silence settled over you two, and you could feel the weight of unsaid things pressing down on the conversation. You had no idea that Hoshi had accidentally called his date by your name, or that he had been battling the same complicated feelings as you.

But something was shifting between you, and you both knew it.

"You seem... off," you said cautiously, breaking the silence.

Hoshi looked at you, his gaze lingering for a moment too long. "Yeah, well... things haven’t been going exactly how I thought they would."

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead, he gave you a half-hearted smile. "I guess we’re both just... figuring things out."

The words hung between you like an unfinished sentence, and for a brief moment, you wondered if there was more he wanted to say. But before you could ask, Hoshi’s phone buzzed, and he glanced at it, his expression shifting as he read the message.

"Sorry, I’ve got to run," he said, standing up quickly. "We’ll talk later, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment as he left the café. The tension between you was getting harder to ignore, but neither of you was ready to address it.

Meanwhile, as Hoshi walked away from the café, his mind was racing. He had been so close to telling you how he really felt, but something kept stopping him. Every time he thought about confessing, the fear of ruining everything overwhelmed him. After all, you had shown no interest in him, and with your new relationship with Junhui, it felt like the door was closing on whatever chance he thought he had.

As Hoshi stepped out of the café, he felt his phone buzz again. It was another message from Park Woona. He didn’t think much of it at first, just figuring she was texting to follow up on their plans, but something about the message felt a bit… off.

“Meet me at the place we talked about earlier. We need to talk, now.”

Hoshi blinked at the message, glancing back over his shoulder towards the café where you still sat. A flicker of guilt passed through him, but he told himself he’d explain later. Woona sounded urgent, and given the mess his emotions had become lately, he figured it might be time to talk things out.

Still, as he walked towards the meeting spot, Hoshi couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in his chest. Everything with Woona had felt different since the last date. She had seemed distant, and truthfully, so had he. It was all just… complicated.

But the complications only multiplied when he reached the café and saw Woona standing near the entrance, her arms crossed and an unreadable expression on her face.

“You’re late,” she said curtly, her eyes flicking over him as if searching for something.

“I got here as fast as I could. What’s wrong?” Hoshi asked, frowning slightly.

Woona sighed dramatically, stepping closer to him. “I saw you with her.”

Hoshi blinked in confusion. “Her?”

“Y/N,” Woona said, her voice hardening as she spat out your name. “The girl you ditched me for back in high school. The one you’ve been pining after all this time.”

Hoshi’s heart sank. He hadn’t told Woona much about you—just enough for her to know you were his best friend. But clearly, Woona knew more than he had anticipated.

“I wasn’t ditching you for her,” Hoshi started, running a hand through his hair. “We’re just friends.”

Woona’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, right. Friends don’t look at each other like that, Hoshi.”

Hoshi opened his mouth to protest but found himself coming up short. *How did he look at you?* Maybe Woona had seen something he was still trying to figure out himself.

“You know, you always had a thing for her,” Woona continued, her voice laced with bitterness. “Even back in high school. She took everything from me. I worked so hard, and she always ended up on top. And now, even you? Seriously?”

Hoshi’s brows furrowed. “Woona, this isn’t about high school. This is—”

She cut him off. “Oh, it’s about high school, alright. You don’t know the half of it. You might have been too busy pining after her to notice, but she stole my spot on the student council, my grades were always second to hers, and to top it all off, she never even noticed how hard I worked.”

Woona’s voice grew sharper with each word, and Hoshi found himself taken aback. He had no idea the rivalry between you two had run so deep. He barely remembered those old high school days, too wrapped up in his own life to notice the tension between you and Woona.

“And now,” Woona continued, her voice quieter but no less intense, “she’s going to steal you too? Not this time.”

Meanwhile, you sat in the café, staring at the half-empty cup of coffee in front of you. The unease that had been gnawing at you since Hoshi left refused to settle. You tried to brush it off, telling yourself he’d be back soon—but something about the way he had rushed out bothered you.

You pulled out your phone, instinctively checking it for any message from him. But there was nothing.

Your mind wandered back to Hoshi’s behavior over the past few weeks. The awkward conversations, the stolen glances, the way he had acted every time you mentioned Junhui. You couldn’t deny that things between you two had been tense lately, but you chalked it up to the complications of growing up, of balancing friendships and relationships.

But now, with him gone and no explanation as to why, something felt… wrong.

As you absentmindedly scrolled through social media, a picture popped up that made your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. It was a candid shot, posted just minutes ago by someone you vaguely knew from work. The picture was of Hoshi—standing outside a nearby café with none other than Park Woona.

Your chest tightened as you stared at the image. *Woona?* The name rang in your ears like an alarm bell. Memories of high school came rushing back—the rivalry, the competition, and the way Woona always seemed to have it out for you, even when you hadn’t noticed her.

But now? Now it made sense. Hoshi had been acting weird because of her. All this time, the girl he liked, the one he had been describing to you, wasn’t just some random person—it was your co-worker, your rival.

*Of course it’s her*, you thought bitterly, your heart sinking as the realization hit you. *It’s always her*.

Woona smiled to herself as she checked her phone, noticing the picture someone had snapped of her and Hoshi outside the café. She knew you would see it. In fact, she had counted on it.

There was a twisted sense of satisfaction that filled her as she imagined the look on your face when you realized who Hoshi was with. You had always been oblivious to her, even when you were taking everything from her—every victory, every opportunity. But now, Woona had something she knew you couldn’t just brush off.

Hoshi.

He was hers now. And she wasn’t about to let you take him away.

“Let’s go somewhere else,” Woona said sweetly, wrapping her arm around Hoshi’s as they started walking down the street.

Hoshi glanced down at her, still feeling unsettled from their earlier conversation, but he didn’t say anything. He just nodded, allowing her to lead the way. He hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, least of all... you. But now, everything felt like it was spinning out of control.

As they walked, Woona’s eyes flickered with a triumphant gleam. This time, she wouldn’t lose. Not to you.

Back at the café, you set your phone down, your mind racing. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense. Of course, Hoshi had been distant. Of course, things had been weird. He had been seeing her.

Your throat tightened as the weight of the situation hit you. This wasn’t just about some silly rivalry anymore. This was Hoshi—your best friend, the one person you had always relied on. The one person you thought would always be there for you.

But now? Now it felt like you were losing him, too.

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

You sat at the café, fingers drumming anxiously on the table. Your mind raced in circles—Woona, Hoshi, everything that had happened over the past few days. It was all too much. The tension in your chest grew heavier, almost suffocating, until your phone buzzed.

Junhui.

Your heart skipped a beat, but this time it wasn’t out of anxiety. It was a small glimmer of relief.

“Hey, you free?” his text read. “Let’s go to the amusement park.”

You stared at the message, feeling a strange sense of gratitude for Jun. He had been so patient these past few weeks, and maybe a distraction was exactly what you needed. If Hoshi was off having fun with Woona, then why couldn’t you do the same? Maybe spending time with Jun would help push Hoshi further from your mind.

You quickly texted back, agreeing to meet him at the park.

The amusement park was alive with the sounds of laughter and music, and as soon as you stepped inside, you felt a wave of excitement wash over you. Jun was already waiting for you by the entrance, his usual laid-back grin plastered on his face.

“Finally, you’re here!” he called out, waving you over. “I was about to go on all the rides without you.”

You smiled, grateful for the lightness in his tone. “Not a chance. I’m not letting you have all the fun.”

He chuckled as he led the way towards the games, the playful energy between you two easing some of the tension in your chest. You spent the next hour hopping between rides and booths, exchanging playful conversations, and trying to win prizes. Jun’s laughter was contagious, and for the first time that day, you found yourself relaxing.

“So, why were you so stressed earlier?” Jun asked casually as you walked towards the next booth.

You hesitated for a moment, not sure how to explain everything with Hoshi and Woona without sounding ridiculous. “Just… stuff,” you said vaguely, shrugging. “It’s been a weird few days.”

“Well, let’s make sure the rest of today isn’t weird,” Jun replied, nudging you lightly. “We’ll have nothing but fun.”

And you did. As you and Jun hopped from ride to ride, you laughed together, indulged in street food, and for a while, it really did feel like you were finally forgetting about Hoshi.

But then, while wandering through the park, something caught your eye—a small stall filled with plush toys. Your gaze landed on a tiger plushy, sitting proudly on one of the top shelves. A wave of warmth surged through you, followed by a sudden pang in your chest.

Hoshi.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of him insisting he was a tiger. He had always been obsessed with them, even claiming he was part tiger on multiple occasions. The plushy looked exactly like something he’d love. The thought made you smile, but that smile quickly faded as you realized what you were doing.

*Shoot. I’m thinking about him again.*

Just when you thought you were finally moving on, his memory popped back into your head, like it always did.

Jun, who had been standing beside you, noticed the sudden shift in your expression. “What’s funny?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing,” you said, shaking your head and forcing a smile. “Just thought of something silly.”

Jun looked at you curiously for a moment, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he smiled and pointed to the plushy. “Want me to win it for you? I’ve got pretty good aim, you know.”

You laughed softly, grateful for his attempt to lighten the mood. “Sure, go ahead. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

As Jun tried his luck at the game booth, you couldn’t help but glance at the tiger plushy again, the memory of Hoshi lingering in the back of your mind. No matter how hard you tried to forget, he was still there—his presence, his laugh, his dumb tiger obsession—it all lingered like an unshakable shadow.

Junhui smiled proudly as he handed you the tiger plushy. "See? I told you I could win it."

You smiled back, but it felt... wrong. A knot tightened in your chest as you stared at the plushy. It reminded you too much of Hoshi—his tiger obsession, his playful growls, the way he’d flash that goofy grin whenever he mentioned it. The last thing you needed was another reminder of him, especially when you were trying so hard to forget.

But you took the plushy anyway, clutching it in your hands. Jun had won it for you, after all. It didn’t feel right to refuse, even though holding it only stirred up the thoughts you were desperately trying to push away.

As you sat down on a bench, the night sky lit up with the colorful burst of fireworks. The crowd around you oohed and aahed, but the dazzling display didn’t pull you from your thoughts. Your gaze drifted to the tiger plushy on your lap, and before you knew it, your mind had wandered—straight back to Hoshi.

You imagined him standing at the altar, Woona by his side in a wedding dress. You were there too, but as a bridesmaid, watching from the sidelines while the love of your life promised forever to someone else. The thought hit you like a punch to the gut, and before you could stop it, the tears began to fall.

First, just one. Then another. Until suddenly, your cheeks were soaked. It wasn’t just a few tears—your eyes had turned into waterfalls, and each drop splashed onto the tiger plushy sitting in your lap. You were sobbing, right in the middle of an amusement park, during a fireworks show, on a date with Junhui.

*Get it together*, you thought, but no matter how hard you tried, the tears wouldn’t stop.

When Jun came back, holding two drinks in his hands, his expression shifted instantly. Concern etched across his face as he hurried over, setting the drinks down beside you. He didn’t say anything right away, but he didn’t have to. He just knelt in front of you and offered his handkerchief.

"Here," he said softly.

You wiped at your face, embarrassed beyond words. *Crying? Really?* But the more you wiped, the more tears seemed to fall. The tiger plushy was soaked now, and so were your cheeks.

Jun sat down beside you, his hand gently patting your back as he let the silence stretch between you. The fireworks crackled and boomed overhead, but it was like they weren’t even there. All that existed in that moment was your racing thoughts, the plushy in your hands, and the overwhelming weight of your feelings.

“I know you like Hoshi,” Junhui said quietly.

You froze, the words hanging in the air like the last firework still sparkling in the sky. You didn’t even look at him, your eyes wide as the confession lingered between you both. Had he really known all along? You tried to say something—anything—but your voice caught in your throat.

Jun smiled, not out of amusement, but a kind, knowing smile. “It’s okay. I knew from the start.”

You blinked, still stunned, and finally looked at him. He wasn’t angry or upset. He just... understood. And that made everything hurt even more.

“I—” you began, but your voice cracked. You wiped away another tear, trying to find the right words. “I didn’t mean to use you, Jun. I really didn’t. I just—”

“You needed a distraction,” he finished for you, his tone gentle and understanding. “I get it.”

You stared at him, trying to figure out how he could be so calm, so accepting, when you felt so torn up inside. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling the weight of guilt pressing down on your chest.

Jun shook his head, his hand still resting on your back in a comforting gesture. “You don’t need to apologize. I’ve always known. I could tell from the first time we met that your heart wasn’t in it. Not with me.”

You opened your mouth to argue, to deny it, but you couldn’t. Because deep down, you knew he was right. From the very beginning, it had always been Hoshi. No matter how many dates you went on, no matter how many times you tried to push those feelings away, it always came back to him.

Jun sighed softly and leaned back on the bench, staring up at the night sky. “This wasn’t really a date for me either,” he admitted, a soft smile playing on his lips. “I just wanted to cheer you up.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at his words. “Jun…”

He turned his head to look at you, his eyes warm and full of understanding. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything. I just wanted you to have a good time tonight, to help you get your mind off things.”

You were silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. Jun had always been so kind, so patient, even when you didn’t deserve it. And now, sitting there with him, you realized just how lucky you were to have him as a friend.

“Thank you,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jun smiled and patted your back again. “Anytime. But…” He glanced at the tiger plushy in your lap, his smile turning a little playful. “I’m guessing that tiger isn’t helping much, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, even through the tears. “Not really.”

He chuckled too, and for a moment, the heaviness in your chest felt a little lighter. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’ll figure it out. And when you do, I’ll be here. Whether it’s as a friend, or whatever you need.”

You smiled at him, genuinely this time, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over you. “Thanks, Jun. Really.”

Jun stood up and stretched, glancing back at the still-bright fireworks in the sky. “Well, how about we forget about all this for now and go win some more plushies? I promise not all of them will remind you of Hoshi.”

You laughed again, and this time, it felt good.

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

Junhui drove you home, and as the car pulled away, you stood at the entrance of your house, watching until his taillights disappeared down the street. You sighed softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. Somehow, even with all the emotional turmoil you’d been through, things felt just a little lighter. Talking with Jun had lifted a weight off your shoulders, but despite that, there was still an unsettling feeling. Hoshi—he was still on your mind.

I have to move on, you thought, turning the key in the lock. He’s with Woona now, and she’s the one he’s meant to be with. You repeated that to yourself, but no matter how many times you said it, it didn’t feel any easier.

Meanwhile, across town, Hoshi was sitting in a dimly lit bar with Woona. The atmosphere was cozy, the air filled with the soft murmur of conversations and the occasional clink of glasses. Woona, looking effortlessly elegant, tried to draw his attention with her playful smiles and lingering glances. But Hoshi, the easygoing guy, was completely oblivious to her attempts. He was a sucker for charm, sure, but only when it came to you.

Woona leaned closer, her voice smooth as she asked, “So, what was your day like?”

Hoshi blinked at her, his thoughts scattered. *What was my day like?* He couldn't even remember. All he could think about was you, and the fact that you were probably off having a great time with Junhui. He chuckled softly to himself at the thought, not even noticing the confused look Woona shot him.

“Uh... Hoshi?” she said, trying to bring him back to the present.

“Hmm?” He blinked and glanced at her, his smile fading as he realized he had zoned out for the hundredth time that night. “Oh... yeah, sorry. My day was... fine.”

Woona bit her lip in frustration, sensing that his mind was elsewhere, and not with her. She wasn’t stupid—she knew where his thoughts were drifting, and it made her chest tighten. It was shitty. But still, she wasn’t ready to give up, not when she had come this far.

She took a sip of her wine, trying to think of another way to engage him. “You know,” she said with a soft laugh, “I’ve always thought it was cute how you never seem to get too drunk.”

Hoshi gave her a half-smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He picked up his own glass and took a sip, hoping the wine would help him relax, but all it did was make him feel more disconnected from the moment.

Woona, sensing the distance growing between them, decided to be more assertive. She moved closer to him, her arm brushing against his. She leaned in, her voice dropping to a low, sultry tone. “You know, Hoshi, we could have a really good time tonight... if you just let go.”

Hoshi felt the heat of her words, but they barely registered. His mind was too full of you—your smile, your laugh, the way you made him feel like no one else ever had. And the more he tried to focus on Woona, the more wrong it felt.

Woona noticed his lack of response and frowned. *Why isn’t this working?* She thought, growing frustrated. She leaned in even closer, this time reaching out to rest her hand on his arm. “Hoshi... are you even listening to me?”

He blinked and looked at her, but instead of Woona’s face, all he could see was you—your bright eyes, your teasing grin, the way you would always joke around with him. It was as if his brain refused to let go, no matter how hard he tried. He chuckled again, this time louder, as the absurdity of it hit him. *I’m sitting here on a date with Woona, but all I can think about is Y/N with Junhui.*

Woona, clearly irritated by his distraction, sighed. “What’s so funny?”

Hoshi shook his head, still chuckling to himself. “Nothing, it’s just... I keep thinking about how Junhui is probably making Y/N laugh right now. He’s always been good at that.”

The moment those words slipped out, Woona’s smile vanished. She stiffened beside him, her frustration boiling over. *There it is again*, she thought bitterly. *It’s always about her*.

But she wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Desperate to regain his attention, Woona moved even closer, her arm now fully wrapped around his. She leaned in, her lips dangerously close to his ear. “Forget about her, Hoshi,” she whispered, her voice dripping with forced sweetness. “I’m right here.”

Hoshi didn’t respond, his gaze drifting away as his thoughts once again wandered back to you. But this time, Woona wasn’t going to let it slide. She grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her, and before he could react, her lips were on his, kissing him deeply.

For a moment, Hoshi didn’t move. His brain short-circuited, overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all. But even in the midst of the kiss, all he could think about was you. It didn’t feel right—none of it did. And the longer the kiss went on, the more wrong it felt.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Hoshi pulled away. His breath was shaky, his heart racing, but not in the way it should have been. He put as much space between them as he could, his eyes wide with confusion and guilt.

Woona stared at him, her chest rising and falling with her heavy breathing. She looked stunned, almost hurt. “Hoshi...?”

He shook his head, running a hand through his hair as he tried to make sense of the mess he had just created. “I... I can’t do this, Woona,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Woona’s eyes widened, her heart sinking. She had seen this coming, but hearing it out loud still hurt. She sighed, a heavy, defeated sound, and leaned back in her seat. “You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Hoshi bit his lip and shook his head, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. “No... I can’t. I’ve tried, but...”

Woona stared at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face for something—anything—that might give her hope. But there was nothing there. She could see it in the way he looked at her, or rather, the way he didn’t look at her. She wasn’t the one he wanted. She never had been.

A sad smile tugged at the corners of Woona’s lips. “I should’ve known,” she said softly, more to herself than to him. “I should’ve known from the beginning that there was no place for me in your heart.”

Hoshi looked at her, his heart heavy with guilt. “Woona, I’m sorry... I really am.”

Woona let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Hoshi. You can’t help who you love.” She paused, her voice dropping to a whisper. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”

Hoshi hung his head, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he tried to find the right words. “I... I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know,” Woona said quietly. “But that doesn’t change anything, does it?”

The silence between them was thick with tension, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything. Hoshi opened his mouth to apologize again, but Woona held up a hand to stop him.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice firm but not unkind. “You don’t need to keep apologizing. I get it now.”

She stood up, straightening her dress as she prepared to leave. Hoshi looked up at her, his eyes filled with regret. “Woona...”

But she just smiled, a sad, resigned smile, and shook her head. “Take care of yourself, Hoshi. And... go to her. Don’t waste any more time.”

With that, Woona turned and walked away, leaving Hoshi sitting alone at the table, his heart heavier than ever.

------------------~~~~~~~~------------------

Hoshi stood in front of your house, staring at the door. His breath fogged in the cool night air, but it wasn’t the chill that was making his hands tremble—it was the thought of what he was about to do. What if Junhui was there? That was the question that echoed in his mind, but he forced himself to shake it off. He was here now, and it was too late to turn back.

He had already called a cab for Woona earlier and made sure she got home safely. She had been quiet the whole ride, no more attempts to cling to him, no more words to sway him. In a way, it was a relief, but it also left him with this unsettling feeling in his chest. Guilt, he realized. He didn’t like the idea of leaving things the way they had ended with Woona, but deep down, he knew there was no other choice. He couldn’t keep lying to her—or to himself.

Now, standing here in the dim glow of the streetlight outside your door, Hoshi felt more nervous than he had in years. He rubbed his palms together, trying to warm them, but no amount of friction could calm the nerves buzzing under his skin. His heart pounded as he raised his hand to knock, but for a second, he hesitated.

*What if she doesn’t feel the same?*

It was a real possibility. After all, you had Junhui. And from what he had heard, things were going well between you two. Maybe you were happy. Maybe you had finally moved on. The thought made his chest ache in a way he couldn’t describe, but he swallowed the lump in his throat. Even if you rejected him, at least he could say that he had tried. At least he wouldn’t have to wonder what if anymore.

He took a deep breath and knocked.

There was a long pause. No sound from inside. Hoshi waited, his hands growing colder by the second. The anxious thoughts in his mind started to spin, but before he could talk himself out of it, he heard movement from behind the door.

The door opened slightly, and there you were, standing in the warm glow of your hallway light. You looked surprised, your eyes widening a little as you took in the sight of Hoshi standing on your doorstep.

“H-Hoshi?” you stammered, stepping forward. “What are you doing here?”

He smiled nervously, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. “I, uh... I needed to talk to you.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback by his sudden appearance. For a moment, neither of you said anything, the tension hanging heavy in the air. Finally, you stepped aside and gestured for him to come in.

Hoshi hesitated for a second, then nodded and stepped through the doorway. The warmth of your house hit him immediately, but it didn’t do much to ease the chill in his chest. He stood awkwardly in the entrance, unsure of where to start.

You closed the door behind him, your gaze lingering on his face. Something was off about him. You could see it in the way he was standing, the way his eyes kept darting around like he didn’t know what to say.

“So...” you said slowly, crossing your arms as you leaned against the doorframe. “What’s going on?”

Hoshi opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. How was he supposed to tell you everything he had been holding in? He had practiced it in his head a hundred times, but now that he was here, standing in front of you, none of it seemed right.

“I... I’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice quiet, almost hesitant. “About... everything.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you tilted your head slightly. “What do you mean?”

Hoshi sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean... about us. About how things have been between us lately.”

He glanced at you, and for a split second, he saw something flash across your face—something that looked an awful lot like relief. But it was gone before he could really process it, and you just nodded, encouraging him to go on.

“I know I haven’t been around as much,” he continued, his voice growing steadier now. “And I know you’ve been with Junhui, and I—” He paused, his chest tightening at the thought of you and Jun together. “I know I don’t have any right to say this, but...”

You stood there in silence, your heart beating faster with each word. There was something in the way Hoshi was speaking that made your own nervousness grow. You had tried so hard to forget about him, to bury those feelings deep down where they couldn’t hurt you anymore. But seeing him here, standing in your house and talking like this—it was undoing all the progress you thought you’d made.

“But I need to tell you how I feel,” Hoshi said finally, his voice barely more than a whisper now. “I’ve tried to ignore it. I’ve tried to pretend that I’m fine, that I can just move on. But I can’t. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. This was exactly what you had wanted to hear for so long, but now that the words were actually coming out of his mouth, you didn’t know how to respond. You felt a knot tighten in your chest as the weight of his confession sank in.

“I know you’re with Jun,” Hoshi added quickly, his hands balling into fists in his pockets. “And I don’t want to mess things up for you. I just... I needed to tell you the truth. I couldn’t keep pretending that I didn’t care, because I do. I care more than I should.”

Silence filled the room, the kind that felt too heavy to break. You could feel your pulse racing, your mind scrambling for something to say, but nothing felt right. The weight of the situation was crashing down on you all at once, and you weren’t sure how to handle it.

Hoshi shifted on his feet, clearly growing more anxious with each passing second. “Look, if you’re happy with Junhui, I get it. I really do. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s oka—”

“I do.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them. Your voice was shaky, your heart pounding in your chest. “I do feel the same.”

Hoshi froze. His eyes widened in surprise, and for a second, neither of you moved. The silence that followed your sudden confession was thick, heavy with the weight of what you’d just admitted. You hadn’t planned to say it, not like this, not so suddenly. But the moment he tried to walk away, something in you couldn’t let him. You couldn’t let him think that you didn’t care—that you hadn’t been feeling the same way all along.

“I do,” you repeated, your voice quieter this time, but no less filled with emotion. “I... I’ve been trying to move on, but I can’t. I tried with Jun, but... it’s always been you.”

Hoshi’s breath caught in his throat. He blinked, still processing your words, his mind racing to catch up. His heart was hammering now, louder than before, and he could barely believe what he was hearing.

“You don’t know how many nights I stayed awake thinking about this,” you continued, your words stumbling over each other, unsure but insistent. “About you. About us. And it scared me because I didn’t want to ruin what we had, but—”

You paused, trying to steady your breathing. Your thoughts were spinning, emotions running wild, but you knew you couldn’t stop now. The truth was finally out, and there was no turning back.

“I didn’t want to lose you, Hoshi. And I didn’t know what to do when I saw you with Woona, so I ran away from it. I thought maybe I could move on, but it didn’t work. It never works, because... because it’s you.”

The vulnerability in your voice cut through the tension like a knife. Hoshi just stared at you, his mind reeling, his body frozen. For so long, he had been holding onto this hope, and now—now you were saying the very thing he had been too afraid to wish for.

“You... you really feel the same?” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if he was still afraid that this might all be a dream.

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yes. I’ve tried to push it down, but I can’t anymore. I’m tired of pretending.”

Hoshi took a step closer, his eyes locked on yours, searching for any hint of hesitation. But there was none. Only the raw, unfiltered truth that neither of you could hide any longer.

His lips parted, as if he wanted to say something, but for the first time, he found himself at a loss for words. All this time, he had been so scared of ruining things between you two. But now, hearing you say that you felt the same—it was like every wall he had built around his heart was crumbling.

“I... I don’t know what to say,” he admitted softly, his voice cracking slightly. “I never thought...”

You gave him a small, shaky smile. “I never thought I’d say it either.”

The silence stretched between you, but this time it wasn’t suffocating—it was thick with emotions neither of you had the courage to express until now. There were no words left that could capture what both of you were feeling, but in that moment, none were needed.

The room fell into a deep, comforting silence as the weight of your confession lingered in the air. Both of you were standing there, exchanging soft, almost shy smiles, like two teenagers experiencing their first taste of love. Hoshi took a step forward, bringing himself close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his body. His eyes were locked onto yours, filled with a tender mixture of awe and longing.

His hand reached out, hesitant at first, but then gently cupping your cheek. You leaned into his touch without even thinking, the softness of his hand making your heart race. There was something so right about this moment-something you both had been denying for far too long.

Hoshi's voice was low, barely above a whisper as he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but you nodded without hesitation. The answer had always been yes.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he leaned in. The space between you seemed to disappear in an instant, and then his lips met yours in a kiss that was both soft and full of emotion. It was like the release of all the tension that had built between you over the years—every unspoken word, every hidden feeling pouring out in that single kiss.

His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted into him. The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more needy as the heat between you grew. His lips moved with yours in perfect sync, as if this had always been meant to happen. It wasn't even the first time you've kissed him. Over the past years of your friendship, you remember kissing him as a dare back then. But this, this was different. It was as if your problems washed away in the blink of an eye.

In the back of your mind, you knew where this was leading, but it didn't scare you. There was no awkwardness, no doubt-only the overwhelming need to be close to him, to feel him in every way possible.

He pulled you gently towards the couch, lips never leaving yours, and you let him. The world outside ceased to exist as you sank down together, his hands exploring your body with a tenderness that sent shivers down your spine. The heat between you was undeniable, and soon, it wasn't just your lips that were communicating-it was every part of you.

He pulled you to his lap, while you straddled on him, the kiss remained, leaving you both breathless.

And little by little clothes fell away, hands roamed freely, and the quiet sounds of your shared breaths filled the room. Every touch, every movement was deliberate, slow, as if both of you were savoring this moment that had been a long time coming.

Hoshi's lips trailed down your neck, his hands never leaving your skin, and you couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips. It was as if years of pent-up emotions were finally being released, and nothing else mattered but him.

The way he'd touch your breasts, and suck your neck, and his other hand travelling at your back. He was giving you every attention he could. The way you shared your bare bodies, it felt ethereal.

The love-making wasn't rushed, it was slow, tender, and filled with all the things you hadn't been able to say out loud. Each kiss, each caress, was a silent confession, a way to tell him what words could not. Hoshi was gentle, attentive, as if he was memorizing every inch of you, and in return, you gave yourself to him fully.

His hard cock was bulging from his pants, as his hands found it's way to the fabric of your pajama. He pulled it down and effortlessly removed your panties, his fingers capturing and rubbing your clit. Everything was slow, as if he was teasing you, or maybe it was because he had waited for this very moment. The way his fingers enter your folds, you moaned in delight. He loved hearing those beautiful sounds you make.

With his fingers moving in and out of you, slowly but attentively, you were practically breathless. "You're doing well," Hoshi whispered, giving you kisses on your cheek, trying to show you his love and affection. You were wet down below. So wet that Hoshi's pants were soaked with your fluids. His fingers moved faster, making you bury your face on his shoulder, your moans high-pitched as he felt you walls tighten within his fingers. He continued fastly, his fingers reaching to that one good spot.

Soon enough, you came before you even knew it. "Well done, baby," he complimented as he took his fingers out of your drenched pussy. He gave you a kiss on your lips, and you deepened that. While your hands were unbuttoning his pants. He let you, and as soon as he was also bare naked, you aligned yourself to his cock, you were sitting on his lap afterall, so you shifted your hips, the tip of his cock on your clit. You stroked him with your hand a few times, making him grunt in pleasure. But when you finally sat on him, making you let out a breath you were holding earlier.

This was far from the feeling when you felt him with his fingers. This was larger, causing your folds to stretch. It didn't hurt a lot though, but your eyes watered from the pleasure you were feeling.

"Baby... keep moving," he said, and you did. You thrusted your hips against him, the slapping of your skins and your moans the only sounds heard from the room.

The way your hips are moving like you never thought they do, and you pussy swallowing him well were all too good. The friction was making you come again, but Hoshi stopped you, he wanted to come together. He lifted you up, but his cock remained inside you and he brought you to your bed, laying you there while you were underneath him. He then thrusted his hips onto yours, your sounds loud and lewd and your fingers digging onto his shoulders.

He thrusted hard and fast, almost too desperate, the way you tightened around him made him want to erect right then and there. "Baby, let's have kids," he muttered, grunting and breathing fastly when finally, you both reached your climax. His semen coating your walls.

It was a moment suspended in time, a culmination of everything that had been building between you for years. And when it was over, the room was filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, your bodies tangled together, both of you basking in the aftermath of something that felt so right, so inevitable.

Hoshi's arms were still wrapped around you, and as you lay there together, the weight of your feelings settled comfortably between you. There was no need to say anything—no need to rush. for now, it was enough to simply be with him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours and know that this was only the beginning.

The soft glow of the moonlight filtered in through the curtains, casting gentle shadows across the room. The air between you and Hoshi was heavy with the events of your shared moment—an undeniable sense of intimacy and relief, yet there was also something fragile in the quietness that followed.

You lay in his arms, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Hoshi’s hand absentmindedly traced patterns along your back, and every touch sent a comforting warmth through you. It was peaceful, but your mind couldn’t help but wander, thoughts swirling around the events that led to this.

You could feel his breath against your hair, the rise and fall of his chest, and you knew he was thinking too. Everything between you had changed tonight, and while there was comfort in finally being together, there was also a looming uncertainty about what would come next.

Hoshi broke the silence first, his voice soft and a little unsure. “Are you okay?”

The question seemed simple enough, but the weight of it settled in your chest. Were you okay? You felt raw and exposed, as if all the walls you had built over the years had come crumbling down in a matter of hours.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were searching, filled with a mix of concern and hope, and you knew he was wondering the same thing as you—whether this moment could be the start of something real or if it was just a fleeting connection.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly, the honesty of your words hanging in the air between you. “It all feels like a dream.”

Hoshi’s grip around you tightened slightly, as if grounding you in reality. He nodded, his own expression softening. “I get that. I’ve been… thinking about this, about us, for so long. I didn’t know if it was real either.”

There was a long pause before he spoke again, his voice more tentative. “But it is, right? This is real?”

Your chest tightened at the vulnerability in his question. Hoshi had always been so full of energy and confidence, but right now, he seemed almost uncertain, as if he was afraid you might pull away from him again.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against your palm. “It is real,” you whispered, the words feeling both like a confirmation for him and a reassurance for yourself.

He let out a breath, one you didn’t even realize he had been holding, and leaned into your touch. There was relief in his eyes, but also something else—something deeper that lingered just beneath the surface.

But before you could speak again, the reality of everything started to sink in. The complications. Woona. Jun. The tangled mess of emotions you had both been avoiding for so long.

Hoshi must have sensed the shift in your thoughts because he spoke up again, his voice quiet but firm. “I don’t know what happens next,” he admitted, “but�� I know one thing. I can’t go back to pretending that I don’t feel this way about you.”

His confession hit you hard, sending a rush of warmth through your chest. But it also brought back the reality of the situation. There was so much to figure out, so many things left unsaid—especially about Woona.

“She’s going to hate me,” you murmured, almost to yourself, as the guilt began to gnaw at the edges of your thoughts. Woona had been your rival for so long, and even though you hadn’t meant for it to happen, you couldn’t help but feel like you had crossed a line with Hoshi.

Hoshi sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know. But… it was never going to work between us. Not when I’ve been in love with you this whole time.”

His words made your heart skip a beat, and for a moment, the room seemed to still. He hadn’t just said he liked you. He said love. And hearing him say it out loud made everything feel more intense, more real than before.

Your throat tightened, the emotions building up inside you. “Hoshi, I—”

Before you could respond, his lips brushed against your forehead, a soft kiss that seemed to hold all the words he couldn’t say. “You don’t have to say anything,” he murmured. “Not right now.”

But the weight of those words hung between you both. There was no escaping it anymore. What you had just experienced was more than just a physical connection. It was years of hidden feelings, unresolved tension, and now, the undeniable truth that neither of you could ignore.

You snuggled closer to him, letting the warmth of his body comfort you for now, even as your mind raced with thoughts of what came next. The night was quiet again, but the complications of reality were slowly creeping back in.

Tomorrow, you would both have to face the world outside this room. You would have to face Woona. You would have to face your own tangled emotions and the fact that moving on wouldn’t be as simple as you had once thought.

But for now, in this moment, you let yourself get lost in the comfort of being with him, knowing that whatever came next, you wouldn’t be facing it alone.

—aeya here!: i made this for like, 2 days and it reached to 11'507 words so like... idk, maybe i should shorten it to make more smut. i figured you all wanted the smut parts sooo.... yeah... nvm, this is more of an angst. lol i hoped yall enjoyed this one. im also a hoshi 🐯 stan so i wanted to make this after the jeonghan ff. (honestly though, you can't have one or two stans in svt. we stan them all 😎)

—your likes/reblogs are very much appreciated because it makes up all the writers block and complications that i've been through while writing this one 🥹, knowing you guys liking the story are making my heart flutter. love y'all!!!

—have you guys heard about the nth room in telegram happening here in korea? stay safe children, 언니, and ladies. and to those who were a victim to this, i hope you all recover from the emotional / trauma. let's spread awareness ♡ 서로 돕자!

[avocado-writing]

Hi, I really like the way you write BG3 party members! I had a thought for a while and wanted to request the main party with a Revenant!Tav? Imagine all the angst that comes with Tav only seeking vengeance on their killer, knowing that their time is limited (revenants have only 1 year to enact their revenge). Or maybe the companions try to find a way of making them 'alive' again, if you want a happy ending? I just think it has a lot of potential and want to know your thoughts!

this one is a bit angsty, so reader beware

My beautiful boy Astarion understands the need for revenge, and is committed to helping you get it if you help him kill Cazador. The two of you stay up late at night to discuss tactics, how you will enact your brutality upon the people who deserve it… but then Astarion realises that you do not talk about what comes after, like he does when he considers a life without his abuser. He does a little research and finally finds what a revenant is. It breaks his heart to think that you’d die at the end of your quest because… well, he loves you. He begs you to reconsider. That there are other ways. You don’t need to be like him. But you take his cheek in your hand and tell him there is no other path for you, so the two of you must just enjoy the time you have together. If he finds a way to cure you, he’s yours forever - if not, the time you have together is sacred. He wastes not a second.

Gale immediately researching about how to lift your curse, that the two of you may live a happy life together after you get your revenge. You tell him not to bother, it’s too much effort, he needs to move on and find someone better - someone with a life worth giving to him. He deserves proper, warm, and tender love, something your dead heart isn’t capable of giving. He does not listen. He doubles down, desperate to keep you in his arms. Maybe he finds some secret forgotten rite which allows you to live after you’ve killed the person who wronged you… or maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he watches you die and pass on peacefully when you’re done, then does everything he can to ascend to godhood and bring your soul back into his arms. Either way, nothing will stop your wizard. 

Wyll listens to your story with a heaviness in his heart, but he knows he wasn’t upfront about his past either… but that does give him an idea. One night, with no way to understand how or why, you feel your curse being lifted, life returning properly to your body. When you seek out your Blade he tries to act pleased, but there’s something weighing on him. It does not take long to realise that he has given up his soul in its entirety to Mizora in order to restore yours. You cry and wail and beat at his chest pathetically. How could he make such a trade? You are not worth it. He holds you at arm’s length to look you over and tells you you’ve always been worth it, and he’d make his choice a thousand times over again. You love him so utterly that you're brought to silence. You vow to make the best of this gift he’s given you, with him by your side.

She knows what it is like to live your last days, does Karlach. The infernal engine in her will kill her sooner rather than later, so she indulges with you. Rich food, fine wine, long evenings of partying and celebrations of life. At Baldur’s Gate you hold her after she kills Gortash, and she begs you not to follow her suit, because revenge isnt worth it. This confession just leaves you empty. There is nothing left after except hollowness. And maybe you listen to her, the two of you find a way out of your curse and go on to Avernus to live out your happiness there (or what you can muster of it) or maybe you ignore her, or your time runs out, and she is left to face the Absolute alone - and lets herself burn on that dock, because a life without you isn’t a life at all.

Lae’zel is excited about your revenge. Enthusiastic, even supportive. She does not understand the nature of your curse. Many a long evening is spent training with her so you may sharpen your abilities, and she gains a great respect for you as both a warrior and a person. Either you find a cure which allows you to be together… or too late does she find out what your revenge brings. She holds you in her arms as you pass, your final words ones of love as your body goes limp and your soul passes into a different plane. She takes a lock of your hair and keeps it on her as a reminder. It is all she has left, after all.

Shadowheart is a great supporter of you… as a Sharran. She pushes for your revenge, evangelising the merits of you killing the person who wronged you, as it’s what Lady Shar would want. But then, as a Selûnite, she begins to think differently. Life is sweeter than she believed. There is more to it than suffering, and she wants to experience the loveliness of it with you by her side. She spends her nights poring over tomes to try and cure you. Maybe she finds a way with her new goddess. If not, when you pass, she keeps you in her heart forever, trying to move on with the guidance of her new goddess, but always feeling just that little bit empty without you.

Taglist:  @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13 @trappedinlimbo15 @infinitely-kat @dhampling @wereallbrokenangels @tilldeathdonugget @useless-contributions @beardedladyqueen @snoozeeebee @hopeful-n-sad

[jellybean-supreme]

My Soulmate (Dabi x reader)

Description

This story depicts the struggles of a young person, Y/N, with a difficult past and the unexpected bond with a villain named Dabi, who reveals a softer, protective side towards Y/N. The story incorporates themes of trust, vulnerability, and the complexities of relationships, creating an engaging narrative. While the story ends on a hopeful note, the characters' journey of growth and healing is left open-ended, allowing readers to imagine how their relationship will develop further, potentially with Y/N becoming a villain as well or Dabi undergoing a redemption and change of heart.

Story starts here :

“You’re telling me my soulmate is some bottom tier hero?” Dabi sneers. He throws you to the ground. “I’ll erase you like everything else.”

But the moment his flames erupt from him, he can’t seem to hurt you. It must be the soulmate bond. Your name has long been burned off his flesh, but your souls are intertwined.

*Touya Todoroki* written written across your arm like a curse. Your soulmate mark. Dabi wants to rip it off of you. The name had hardly been *his*, why do you get to have it?

“Soulmates.. are a curse,” he snipes at you, clearly still seething. The air between you and Dabi is electric with tension. You can feel it in your core, the fire within him, that you should be afraid. But you aren’t. You can see beyond the hate. You can see the Touya within.

"Soulmates... A curse, right?” You murmur, studying all the staples on his face. “How many times did you try to scrape that off?” You ask, referring to your soul mark on his flesh.

He grits his teeth in response. You can’t blame him. He probably hates your name. A constant reminder of the life he didn’t have.

"Enough times to know it hurts like hell," he retorts, his tone cold. He crosses his arms, clearly uncomfortable with the topic at hand. "Soulmates are for the weak. They're the chains that hold you back."

He seems to loathe himself for being bound to another person, for being bound to *you*. He sees it as a weakness, a restriction.

"If I'm that bad, I'll leave and never bother you again," you say, wishing he'd reconsider. We'd both die in so much pain eventually because of being apart for too long. All you've ever wanted was to feel loved and have someone you can rely on. You've always thought that person would be your soulmate, but you guess you were wrong. You wonder if he'd ever think of you when he'd eventually sends you away.

Dabi's face is unreadable as he listens to your ultimatum. A part of him wants to push you away, to sever the connection between you two, and never see you again. But something within him hesitates, a small glimmer of hope, a flicker of desire for compassion that he long thought extinguished.

He wants to say something, *anything*, but the words catch in his throat. It's as if he's struggling with inner demons, torn between his anger and resentment and a suppressed longing for companionship.

"I have a suggestion before you send me away or tell me to leave. How about we spend a week together, get to know each other or see how it'd be? I'm suggesting only a week because then you don't have to spend such a long time with me, like a month or something, because I know I'm already a nuisance to you." I tell him my suggestion. He will probably not agree, like he said I'm just a weak hero who is nothing but useless to him.""

Dabi's eyes narrow as he considers your proposal. A week. He could handle that, right? He could deal with you for a measly week. And besides, what harm could it do to spend time with his so-called soulmate, especially after he’d already been saddled with you?

"Fine," he says finally, his voice cool. "We'll spend a week together. But don't expect me to suddenly become some sappy romantic."

I nod and give him a small smile. "Thank you, I know, I don't expect anything."

Dabi scoffs, clearly sceptical of your attitude. "Don't thank me. I'm only doing this because I want to prove to you that soulmates are pointless. You'll see, eventually."

Despite his harsh words, there’s something almost melancholic in his tone. Perhaps somewhere deep down, beneath the layers of trauma and resentment, a glimmer of longing.

"Maybe to uou they are useless, but I want someone who I can have who will never hurt and love me with all my flaws." I mutter back to him.

Dabi rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed with your idealistic notions. "Flaws? We're both damaged goods, sweetheart. Do you think I'll magically heal you? We're broken, and that's never going to change."

Despite his scepticism, there's a hint of vulnerability in his voice, a small crack in his tough exterior.

"I don't think you'll magically heal me. I just hoped we'd be there for each other when needing someone to rely on. That's what I hoped for when I found out about soulmates." I tell him

Dabi lets out a sharp, humourless laugh. "Rely on each other. Hah. You really have no idea who I am, do you? I don't need anyone to rely on me. And I sure as hell can't rely on anyone else. You're setting yourself up for disappointment, doll. Love and all that crap is just a waste of time."

He turns away as if trying to shield himself from your hopeful gaze.

"That what you believe, I'll believe my 'romantic crap' until the day I die." I reply to him.

"Where are we going? Where do you want to spend our week? I'm not doing any hero work. So I'm fine with anything." I ask him.

A hint of amusement flashes across Dabi's face at your stubborn determination. "You're really not backing down, are you? Fine. We’ll see how much your *romantic crap* holds up at the end of this week."

His smirk is sardonic, but there's a flicker of grudging respect in his eyes, and his expression softens just slightly.

"As for where we're going? My place. No way I'm staying at some crappy hotel or something. And, of course, no hero missions."

I nod, following him to his house, I'll get my clothes from my house tomorrow, I think to myself.

Dabi leads you through the alleys and backstreets of the city, his steps swift and confident, his eyes constantly vigilant as if wary of any possible danger. As you follow him, you can't help but notice the way his every movement is calculated, his body tense, as if anticipating an attack.

Finally, he stops in front of a relatively nondescript apartment building, the facade blending in with the row of other apartments around it. Without a word, he keys in the access code and pushes open the door, gesturing for you to follow him inside.

Dabi's apartment is as cold and sparse as the man himself. The living room is devoid of any personal touches or decor, the only furniture, a single, worn leather couch, and a small coffee table. The walls are bare, the windows covered with thick black curtains casting the room in perpetual shadows.

The kitchen is barely larger than a broom closet, with a small fridge, a single counter, and a gas stove. The cupboards are mostly empty, save for some instant noodles and a few canned goods, suggesting that Dabi doesn't do much cooking.

The bedroom is even more austere. A single bed in the corner, a small dresser, and a single metal rack. The room is so devoid of personality that it's as if no one has lived here in decades. The only splash of colour comes from a single, faded picture propped up on the dresser. It's a picture of a young boy with white hair, smiling and holding a ball. Despite his youthful appearance, there’s a darkness in his eyes, a sadness that seems to pervade every aspect of his being. This is Touya Todoroki, Dabi's former self.

"This is it," Dabi says finally, gesturing around the apartment. "Home sweet home. You can have the bed, I'll take the couch." He takes a seat on the couch, folding his arms across his chest. "So, what do you want to do? Watch a movie? Or maybe chat about how much you think love is wonderful and perfect?"

"I'm fine with either one, though you'll be sleeping in your bed, I'm not going yo be kicking you out of your bed just so that i can sleep comfortably." I tell him a stong tone.

Dabi's eyes flicker with a mix of surprise and amusement at your insistence. "You really are stubborn, aren't you?" he muses, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "No way am I letting you sleep on that piece of junk couch. I wouldn't be able to sleep in a comfortable bed knowing you're out here being uncomfortable. Besides, I don't need much sleep."

"That's a shame then because you'll be sleeping in your bed whether you want to or not." I tell him. I won't be able to sleep even if I were to sleep on the bed, I'd wake up screaming or crying because of my nightmares. So, there's no point in trying.

Dabi lets out an exasperated sigh, realizing he's not going to win this argument. "Fine, fine. If you insist on being so stubborn, I'll take the bed. But don't come complaining to me if it's uncomfortable." He leans back on the couch, pretending to pout. "Just don't expect me to tuck you in or anything."

"Good," I say with a smile, completely ignoring his last sentence.

"So what do you want to do?" I ask him. It was about 7 pm at night, it was really pretty outside, I could see the moon and the beautiful stars through Dabi's circler window.

Dabi's gaze follows yours to the window, and for a moment, he looks almost contemplative. "How about a walk?" he suggests. "I know a good spot that's secluded. We can talk and I can make some food if you're hungry. It won't be anything fancy." He shrugs, seeming to struggle with the idea of actually spending time with you.

"That's be nice, no need to worry about food thought ill.make something when we come back if that's alright with you." I tell him as I follow him out the door to the spot he's talking about.

Dabi leads you through the city, avoiding the busy streets and opting for the quieter alleys and side roads. He seems to walk with a purpose, his steps sure and calculated, as if on a mission. Eventually, you arrive at a small, secluded park, surrounded by towering trees and blanketed in shadows.

The air is thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and flowers, a stark contrast to the bustling city sounds that seem worlds away. The stars wink above, their light reflecting off the surface of a small pond in the centre of the park.

"It's beautiful," I say quietly, being in aw.

Dabi nods slightly, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily. "Yeah, it is," he replies, his tone neutral. Despite his indifference, there's a flicker of something in his gaze as he looks around the park. Something almost reminiscent, as if he too can appreciate the beauty of the place.

He seems tense, on edge, as if expecting something to jump out and attack. But the only sound is the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the faint sound of water lapping against the banks of the pond.

"Come on," Dabi says, breaking the silence as he starts walking towards the pond. The moonlight reflects off the water's surface, creating a mesmerizing dance of light and shadow. Dabi stops beside the pond, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?” He mutters, almost to himself. "It's one of the only things that makes me forget, even for a moment. Not the heroes, not the villains, just this quiet." He takes a deep breath, inhaling the night air.

I nod, sitting next to him on the bench. "You don't have to be so tense," I tell him.

He seemed to calm down after a while. We started asking each other any and every question that came to mind, nothing to personal though. Neither of us was ready to talk about the deep stuff, like our parents, our siblings, or our past.

Dabi nods, seemingly appreciating your concern. "Force of habit," he mutters, his shoulders relaxing ever so slightly.

The conversation flows easily between you two as the night deepens. You ask each other questions about your favourite colours, your favourite places to visit, your favourite foods. Simple, lighthearted topics. Nothing heavy, nothing that would scratch the surface too much. Despite the casual subject matter, Dabi seems less tense now, his guard slowly lowering as you continue to talk.

As the night wears on, the conversation starts to deepen, veering into more personal topics. Dabi opens up about his love for old music, and you learn that he has a secret passion for collecting vintage vinyl records. You confide in him about your own struggles with hero work and the constant pressure to be perfect. For a moment, it feels like you both are just two ordinary people sharing a quiet, intimate moment under the stars.

As the conversation continues, Dabi's facade starts to crumble even more. He seems to be enjoying the conversation, enjoying the chance to talk to someone who isn't constantly trying to fight or kill him. Despite his efforts to keep up his cynical front, there are moments where his true self shines through. The Dabi who craves companionship and understanding beneath all the layers of pain and anger.

Slowly, the conversation shifts gears again, moving into more serious territory. The tension in the air grows thicker as you both begin to open up about your pasts, your families, and the events that shaped you into the people you are today. Dabi shares snippets of his life with his family, the abuse he suffered at his father's hands, and the deep sense of betrayal and abandonment he felt when he was left to rot. Hearing Dabi's stories, his voice cracking with emotion as he tries to stay composed, touches a cord in you.

Because you had and still have to experience the abuse of your family, tho you don't tell Dabi that you're still being abused and forced to do this you don't want to do.

As Dabi's stories of his family life unfold, your heart aches at the familiar pain he's expressing. Your own experience with abuse in your family comes rushing back, a fresh wave of pain washing over you. But you keep your own secret close to your chest. You don't want Dabi to know that you're still experiencing abuse, still being forced to do things you don't want to do. You don't want pity or sympathy. You just want to be understood.

Dabi is lost in his own pain, too consumed by his own trauma to notice the pain in your eyes. He continues to share his story, the words pouring out of him as if they've been waiting to escape for years. And as he talks, you sit there, listening silently, your own pain festering inside of you, threatening to bubble over.

Dabi pauses for a moment, his eyes locked on the pond's shimmering surface. He's quiet for so long that you wonder if he's done sharing. Then, without looking at you, he whispers, "I'm sorry." The apology surprises you, coming out of the blue. You glance over at him, and for a moment, his veneer of nonchalance slips, and you can see the raw vulnerability in his eyes.

"There is no need to apologize," I tell him as I gently put my hand on his shoulder.

Dabi stiffens for a moment at your touch but then relaxes slightly under your comforting touch. His gaze flicks to your hand on his shoulder, and for a fleeting moment, you can see a flicker of emotion in his eyes. Something fragile and fragile and broken that he has probably been shoving deep down for years.

"I'm sorry for burdening you with all this," Dabi mutters, almost to himself. "For putting all this heavy stuff on you. It's not fair." His voice is softer now, a hint of vulnerability slipping through the cracks of his hardened exterior.

"Dabi, look at me. There is no need to apologize. I don't want to hear those words out of your mouth again." I tell him, not wanting him to apologize for telling me what he feels.

Dabi's eyes flicker up to meet yours, surprise flashing in his gaze. No one has ever said those words to him before. No one has ever told him not to apologize for his pain. But the raw sincerity in your voice seems to reach him, and he gives a slight nod. "Alright," he mutters, his voice barely a whisper. "No more apologies. Only honesty."

You exchange a moment of silent understanding, the moment charged with a new level of intimacy. And then Dabi turns back to the sky, his gaze tracking the stars above. You can see the weight of his past still clinging to him, but there's also a sense of... release. As if sharing his past with you has lifted a small portion of the weight off his shoulders.

"How about you?" Dabi asks suddenly, breaking the silence. "Do you have any traumatic life experiences you want to share?" There's genuine curiosity in his eyes now, the first hint of vulnerability you've seen since meeting him.

"Nothing that compares to your pain. What i experienced could have  been worse." I reply to his question, lying straight to him. Though it was the truth to me, I believe others' problems are bigger than my own, because me being abused and r@ped is not important to me, that its happening to someone else is my problem.

Dabi frowns slightly at your dismissive reply, sensing the lie in your words. "That's bullshit," he mutters, a hint of anger creeping into his voice. "Don't downplay your experiences. Your pain is as valid as mine. Don't act like it's nothing."

"It could be worse, Dabi, so it's not that bad."

Dabi's frown deepens, the anger in his voice turning to mild frustration. "That's bullshit, Y/N. Don't do that. Don't pretend like your pain doesn't matter just because it 'could be worse'. Pain is pain, and if it's hurting you, it's worth talking about. So drop the act and just be honest," he says, his tone a mix of annoyance and concern.

You look at him with suprise. No one has ever been like this with you. No one has seen through your lies and seen your pain as something that matters. You just nod and start telling Dabi everything that happened and people have done to you. You told him about how your parents punish you when not being perfect. How the people you were supposed to call your family r@ped you and whipped you for their own pleasure. How your mother did nothing to help you through any of this, she in fact joined them in torturing you. And how they would lock you in the closet for weeks without giving you anything to eat because of your low ranking. You never wanted to be a hero, you wanted to live a happy life with the love of your life in a little cottage in the woods away from everyone and everything, with your lover and your children playing in the mud, ot in the trees together, that's all you ever wanted in your life, to be happy with someone. But like everyone says life's a bitch and then you die. There were so many times I thought I was going to die, and after this week with Dabi. I most likely will.

Dabi's eyes widen in shock and anger as you recount your stories of abuse. His fists clench tightly, the veins in his arms straining against his skin. Fury and rage burn deep in his turquoise gaze, his jaw tightening as he struggles to contain his emotions.

As you finish speaking, a deathly silence settles between you. The atmosphere is thick with tension, the air heavy with the weight of the pain you both share. Dabi's breathing is shallow, his body rigid as he tries to grapple with the information you've shared.

"Y/N...." His voice is low, tinged with a mix of pain and anger. "Why.... Why did you let them do all that? Why did you let them get away with it?" His eyes search yours, a mixture of confusion and frustration. "Why didn't you fight back?"

"I already tried, it didn't work. I told the police I showed them everything, the scars, the videos, anything and everything to get them arrested. The police didn't believe me, though who would believe a child. After I tried that, I knew whatever I did to try and stop them, it wasn't going to work, so I just stopped. "

Dabi's anger flares at your answer, his jaw clenching tightly. "The police," he mutters, his voice full of contempt. "Of course those useless assholes couldn't do anything to help." He growls, his fists clenching so tight, his knuckles turn white.

"They were supposed to protect you," he spits. "They were supposed to help you, and they failed. They failed miserably."

"But you didn't deserve that," he continues, his tone growing softer, more vulnerable. "No one does. No one deserves to suffer like that, especially you." He reaches out, gently cupping your cheek with a touch that's surprisingly tender. His thumb traces the outline of your cheekbone, a touch that's gentle, almost affectionate.

You flinched at his touch at first, but after a few seconds, you leaned into his touch. You wished you could stay like this forever. You felt safe. He made you feel safe. You wished that he wanted you as a soulmate. You didn't want to force him, so instead of making him feel uncomfortable, all you did was just lean into his touch a little.

Dabi freezes for a moment as you flinched at his touch, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. But then you lean into his touch, and his eyes widen slightly, a hint of surprise mixing with something more tender. He can't remember the last time someone showed him physical affection like this.

He leans a little closer, his other hand gently cupping your other cheek, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern on your skin. You can see the conflict in his eyes as he battles with his emotions, the fierce anger and protectiveness warring with the vulnerability and affection.

"I won't ever let anyone else hurt you, alright?" Dabi's voice is low, a fierce whisper. "You won't suffer like that ever again. Not under my watch." He leans his forehead against yours, a rare moment of openness and vulnerability from the cold, aloof villain. And in this moment, even though he doesn't say it, you can feel a deep sense of protectiveness and possessiveness from him, a need to keep you safe.

You nod. You wondered if that meant that he would let you be his soulmate if he'd et you stay after this week was over. You wished and hoped he was telling you the truth right now.

"We should probably head back, it getting late," you tell Dabi, eve though you didn't want to leave. You check the time. It was 1am, and you both had been talking for over 6 hours.

You get up, not waiting for his answer, you grav his hand and help him up and start to walk back to his house. You don't let his hand go, though.

Dabi follows you silently, letting you lead the way. He doesn't pull away from you or try to break the contact. Instead, he allows himself to be led back to his house, the warmth of your hand in his a comforting presence.

As you walk, Dabi's mind races, conflicted. His entire life, he's been alone, pushing everyone away to shield himself from potential heartbreak. But as he walks beside you, holding your hand, a part of him longs for something more.

Finally, you reach his house, the familiar surroundings a stark contrast to the vulnerable atmosphere you've shared. Dabi hesitates for a moment, his hand still holding yours. He glances at you, and you can see the flicker of a smile at his lips, a momentary crack in his usual facade.

"Thanks," he mutters, his voice a low rumble. "For listening to me. And for sharing your own stories too." The words are filled with a sincerity that surprises even himself, as if he's not used to expressing gratitude.

"I'll be here for you until the day you don't want me here. And there is no need to thank me, i should be thanking you for listening to my problems, when you arleady have tour own." I tell him as we walk to bed.

Dabi's lips twitch at your words, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He hadn't expected you to offer your support unquestioningly, had assumed that everyone would eventually turn their back on him. But despite his disbelief, a small flame of hope sparks within him, warmth spreading in his chest.

As you head to bed, Dabi remains silent, the gravity of your promise settling heavily on him. He wasn't used to people being there for him, but now, with you, the promise of companionship and understanding felt like a lifeline.

Once you both get into bed, Dabi's mind is still racing, the events of the evening replaying in his head. He turns to face you, the light from the moon filtering in through the curtains casting a silvery glow across your form.

For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of what to do. But then, driven by an inexplicable urge, he reaches out, gently touching your cheek. His fingertips trail across your skin, his touch whisper-soft, almost reverent.

"Y/N," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. His gaze flicks to your face, searching your eyes for any sign of discomfort, any hint that he's overstepping your boundaries. But all he sees is acceptance, understanding, and a flicker of something deeper.

Unable to resist any longer, he closes the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a hesitant, gentle kiss.

You kiss him back, if someone where to tell you that your soulmaye who didn't want you this moring kissed you and accepted your problems, and promised to keep you safe you should have laugh at them. But now all you can feel is happiness, as you bothe pull away Dabi pulls you closer to him cuddling you close he whispers in your ear. " I'll never let you go. I will protect you no matter what. And I might finally see why you love this romantic soulmate stuff."

Dabi's words, whispered in your ear, send shivers down your spine. The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion, it's a side of him you've never seen before. Dabi, the intimidating villain who always kept his distance, is finally opening up, showing you a flicker of the man beneath the scars.

As he cuddles you close, holding you tightly in his arms, a sense of safety envelops you. His body is warm and solid against yours, a protective shield against the cruel world outside.

Hours pass as the two of you lay entwined together, the moon casting shadows on the walls as it travels across the night sky. Dabi's breathing is now slow and even against your hair, his grip on you loosened but still possessive.

You watch him sleep, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest a soothing sight. A sense of contentment envelopes you, a serenity that you hadn't felt in a long time. For once, you feel safe and cared for, your soulmate's presence a balm for the traumas of your past.

As your eyes start to flutter closed, you allow yourself to drift into a deep, peaceful sleep, wrapped in Dabi's embrace. The gentle rise and fall of his chest is a lullaby that eases you into dreamland, and for the first time in ages, you feel a sense of protection and safety that you've always yearned for. The horrors of the past seem a little farther away, and the present moment is filled with the warmth of your soulmate's presence. With Dabi by your side, everything feels better, more hopeful.

The End

[navvyu]

AN: thank you for requesting! i personally agree, hope i did good at writing this it was a bit hard bc its my first time writing yandere. sorry if its wonky =＾● ⋏ ●＾= ALSO IM SO SORRY FOR HIS COMING OUT LATE :,) (i would like to mention that i worked on this fic almost entirely at school too lmao)

Housewardens with a yandere! male! reader

*not beta read

Warnings: implied stalking, implied murder/violence, creepy behavior(?), kidnapping (all by reader)

Includes: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Klaim, Vil, Idia, Malleus

Riddle

 Would at first suspect nothing, simply thinking that his students are finally learning the queen of hearts rules

He would start to suspect something wrong when  some of his more… pushy students went missing (not to mention that the pain used to paint the roses seemed thicker as of late…)

Riddle would become weary when he started feeling eyes on him at all times

He would go for a  walk in the rose maze to attempt to clear his head, an easy mistake really

Would attempt to cause you physical harm in attempt to get away, he tried multiple times to escape all in different methods (but still ending horribly) 

After trying to escape far to many times, he would still hate you with all his heart but he would just push through silently hoping that somebody would save him

“You're far too horrible to be called human, You're nothing but a disgraceful monster. You should be ashamed.”

Leona

At first, leona would enjoy that people had started leaving him alone

But when ruggie started avoiding him, he became suspicious

Would have trouble sleeping because he cloud feel somebody watching him

since he is often alone, sleeping it was easy to 'capture' him

Often tries to escape, will bite

hates you and will vocalize it to you no qualms about it

He tries to use his magic to kill you along with trying to use his brute strength to try and harm you

once he find physical violence doesn't swade you, he will try to degrade you

may try to harm himself to manipulate you to letting him go

after awhile he'll just sit and growl at you but not actually do anything

"You're horrible. i never want to see you again."

Azul

 Starting off, if Azul noticed your obsession with him he would attempt to rope you into a deal, trying to use your favorability to persuade you

If he didn't notice your obsession he probably would either just dismiss you or not give you much thought

But Azul would quickly notice the change in attitude of everyone, his clients who had originally refused begging for him to let them reconsider, workers of mostro lounge being on higher performance, the leech twins being more ‘mellowed out’, though he appreciated it all it still made him a bit suspicious

When decided to finally investigate, he was completely alone without any protection, stupid honestly

Would try to use his ‘benevolence’ to persuade you to let him go, but that obviously didn't work

Once he found that it was futile to try and trick you he would resort to physical means to escape

He attempted to trick you again, trying to convince you that he loved you and he was trustworthy but again, he failed miserably

At some point he’ll just get used to it and he’ll shut up

“Please let me go, you love me don't you? How could a man like you be so cruel to his one and only?”

Kalim

 Would almost immediately notice the small changes in everything but wouldn't know the cause.

Kalim after a while of people refusing his party invites, hangouts, and other social events, Kalim might start to believe that people were growing to dislike him…

That doubt started to turn into worry when Jamil when missing, seemingly out of nowhere

Now with Kalim being alone most times, it was easier to knock him out

When he woke up, he almost immediately knew he was kidnapped. Not the first time its happened after all…

May try and beg for your mercy or to let him go bt in the end he knew it was futile

He ended up simply accepting his situation and gave up almost all hope, aside from trying to escape every time he had the chance to

“Why would you do this? I trusted you…”

Vil

 Might notice your “creepy” behavior if you show it openly

Vil began noticing that a few things were changing, how rook seemed to avoid him, epel being more obedient and so on

Was pleased at first but it quickly became concert and worry

As he paced in his room attempting to connect the dots to what was happening, it gives you a clear window to take him while he’s distracted <3

When he first ‘disappeared’ there were tons, thousand, millions even of people looking for him, if you successfully hide him though it should be to much of a rock in the road

Vil would attempt to escape, or even try to poison you on multiple occasions along with heavy degradation

They all ended in futility of course , but he’s still stubborn as ever

“You’re disgusting… How could you do this? Any other man would have treated me better.”

Idia

 honestly he’s probably the easiest to have as your target

All you have to do i earn his trust and ortho’s trust and you’ll basically be set

Idia wouldn't notice anything to out of the ordinary, aside from some of his gaming friends not messaging him, nothing was amiss

Since Idia doesn't often go outside of his room it was easy to keep him ‘’trapped’ there

Though Idia might be a little down he’ll appreciate your company

But when you he a little but clingy he might think somethings suspicious but he’ll brush past it, excusing it has him not being to connected to ‘normie culture’

If he notices that you’re not letting him interact with others or the outside world he might try to get Ortho to search up if its weird or not

When Ortho says its odd behavior he might try to push away form you but he couldn't bring himself to fully commit to it

Overall, either won't notice or will simply brush it off

“Hey wanna join me on this RPG? I think you might like this new charter, he kinda acts like you ya know?”

Malleus

 Would also probably not notice that the behavior is considered weird, simply thinking that it's a human custom

May find your obsessive nature endearing, thinking that you just like him alot

Since nobody really even came near him it was easy to keep most potential rivals away

Once the diasmonia group seemed to push away form Malleus he of course became upset that the people he considered family were leaving him

But at least he has you!

Malleus may think that the sudden abandonment is unnatural and may try to dig deeper into what's going on but he wont find much

May at his own will just stay at an arm's length away because he's scared of losing you

“Please don't leave me, I don't think I could take it…”

[kbandtrash]

I Don't Dance (I Know You Can) (Hoshi x Reader)

~Rachel~

Masterlist

You're hopeless as a dance trainee, and dance teacher Hoshi isn't sure that teaching you will be worth it for either of you in the long run.

Content: dance teachers!Hoshi and Minghao, enemies to ?lovers?, Hoshi yells at you and apologizes, a general feeling of hopelessness about life, fluff

Word Count: 3.8k

“No. I’m done. I can’t stand her,” Hoshi huffed. “She makes no improvement and she can’t see what she’s doing wrong. I’m done, Minghao. If you want to keep her on, then you take her.”

Minghao smiled wryly. “If you can’t teach her, then no one can.”

“I don’t need to waste my time on a student that’s going nowhere.”

“But I do?”

“That’s why I’m saying we need to drop her!”

“Oh that’s very growth mindset of you,” Minghao drawled sarcastically. “I thought we believed in the potential of every student.”

“I did. I really did.” Hoshi sighed. “But there is something wrong with her.”

“I don’t know, when I sat in today, I noticed she’s actually pretty good at keeping with the beat. Her limbs are like tree branches in the wind, but they’re always in time.”

Hoshi cocked his head. “That is true,” he admitted.

“And her hands are very graceful.”

“Yes,” Hoshi agreed.

“Her facial expressions are pretty natural, too.”

“Yeah, she got that from vocal training.”

“She just got a late start,” Minghao said with a shrug. “If you keep working with her, she’ll be a pro in no time.”

“Yes!” Hoshi exclaimed, pounding his fist into his hand. “It’s not that she’s bad, she’s just inexperienced.”

It was that easy every week. However, the truth remained: you hadn’t a dancing bone in your body. Minghao just liked to watch from the sidelines, and if you ended up getting dropped, he wasn’t sure when he would find his next favorite source of entertainment.

—

“My favorite student!” Hoshi welcomed you warmly to your private lesson.

You glanced at Minghao in the back, who gave you a wink and an okay sign. “My favorite teacher?” you returned uncertainly.

“Did you review the steps we learned last week?”

You nodded energetically. “I made sure to practice every day in front of a mirror like you said.”

“Good, good!” He clapped his hands together. “Let’s start with our warm up moves.”

You moved almost like a mannequin, no fluidity in your joints. Hoshi kept his temper in check, and offered you some suggestions.

“Like this?” you asked, repeating the same clunky motion.

Hoshi smiled only because he had no other expressions left. He modeled the move. “Do it with me slowly.”

It was incredible how intently you watched him and how poorly you managed to perform on your own. If you did get it right once, it was usually pure luck.  You apologized over and over, to which he responded through his teeth with a fake cheerfulness.

When it came time for you to leave again, Hoshi managed to keep his cool, even told you that you did well today! You both knew that was a lie, but you also both knew you were giving this your all. There was just nothing to show for it week after week. For you, it was disheartening, but for him, it was infuriating.

“You did well today,” Minghao complimented Hoshi. “You didn’t even raise your voice once.”

“I can’t do this anymore,” Hoshi whispered dangerously. “I’m going to snap.”

Minghao smiled and prepared his next lecture on positivity.

—

“Get out.”

“Hoshi, I told you—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said, looking you directly in the eyes. “You’ve wasted my time for too long.”

“I’m trying so hard!” you begged. “I promise I’ve been practicing every day and I felt like I had made improvement!”

“You’re just as miserable as the day you walked in here. We need to reconsider the future of your lessons with us.”

“Hoshi,” Minghao interjected. “I didn’t want to bring this up again, but we’re getting paid twice our usual rate from her company.”

“It’s not worth it anymore,” Hoshi said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know why you bothered trying to learn if you had no talent to back it up.”

“I don’t know either!” you fired back. “I just wanted to sing and play my instrument, but the president said I wasn’t worth anything if I couldn’t dance. Guess he was right.”

You stormed out of the room and grabbed your bag on your way out. Minghao could have sworn he heard you choke back a sob as the door closed.

Hoshi immediately felt hollow inside. He had never messed up like this, and there was no way to take back his words. It wasn’t that he really believed you weren’t worth the time, but he had never had a student learning this slowly, or this late in life, or…

…It was all excuses in the end. No matter how frustrated he got, he shouldn’t have snapped in your face.

He squatted on the floor with his head in his arms. “Why did I do that…?” he mumbled. “I’ve never…never talked to anyone like that before.”

“I don’t know, but you need to apologize immediately,” Minghao said, standing up and pointing at the door. “Go and find her now.”

Hoshi looked up at Minghao through his arms. “And what am I going to say, that what I said wasn’t true? I’m not going to keep lying to her about any potential she has.”

“Are you stupid?” Minghao said exasperatedly. “She thinks she’s worthless because she can’t dance. She can’t dance, that much is obvious, but she’s not worthless. You get your butt out that door and tell her that.”

Hoshi stood up again and started pacing. “If you know what to say, then why can’t you go and say it?”

“I’m not the one that just told her she wasn’t worth my time.”

Smashing his head into the floor seemed like it would be a better option. Hoshi felt terribly guilty, but apologizing to your face felt like lying to you. Agreeing to keep you on also felt like lying to you. He felt more guilty about lying to you about your dance potential than about hurting your feelings.

He still stomped out the door to try and follow you anyway. His head swirled with words that he was supposed to say, but still felt like lies meant to satisfy you temporarily. Wouldn’t it be best for you in the long run if you quit?

You really hadn’t gone far—you hadn’t even left the building. He should have known that you would have to wait for one of the trainee managers to come pick you up, and the lesson wasn’t supposed to be done for another ten minutes. You were sat on the floor in a hallway to the side of the main route to the entrance.

The light of your phone screen, too close to your face, gave you away. He could see you were staring at a message you hadn’t quite sent yet, and he could also see the drying tear tracks down your cheeks.

“You’re not worthless,” he said, and you flinched as he sat down next to you. He noticed you quickly lock your phone and hide it away from him. “I’m the worthless one if I say something like that to one of my students.”

“No, I’m just deluding myself,” you said dejectedly. “I’m not sure why I thought I could make it in this industry if I couldn’t dance.”

Hoshi scrunched his mouth as he tried to think of something to say that both made you feel better and didn’t make him feel dishonest. He kind of agreed with what you said, but he couldn’t say that. “Dancing isn’t everything,” he shrugged. “Half the trainees these days only know how to dance, and they can’t hardly hold a pitch.”

“At least they can learn to rap. There’s no replacement for dancing.”

You needed to stop saying things that were true, or Hoshi was going to have to leave you in your misery. He gulped. “You have your visual going for you, at least, right?” he tried.

That was a weird thing to say, apparently. You looked at him like he had said that summer wasn’t hot enough. “I’m not supposed to be a visual.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Could have fooled me,” he said as nonchalantly as he could. 

That was weird. He definitely thought you were supposed to be a visual, maybe even above vocals. Now that he tried to remember why he thought that, he realized no one had told him—he’d just assumed. It wasn’t personal bias, was it?

“Maybe you should just switch companies,” he suggested. “But you shouldn’t give up on your dream.”

“No one’s going to debut a girl band,” you said. “Or a soloist who can’t dance.”

“So why are you trying if you don’t think anyone will debut you?”

You looked away from him, in the direction he thought your phone might be. “That’s what I’m asking myself, too.” He didn’t say anything, and you waited long enough to feel awkward if you didn’t keep talking. “Why can’t I just give up and move on?”

—

“It’s too tragic, Minghao,” Hoshi lamented from the floor of the studio. “Who ever said you had to dance to be a good musician?”

“Public opinion,” Minghao answered succinctly, scrolling through his phone from the chair in the corner.

“And that’s the only thing that matters?”

“Uh, yeah.” Minghao blew a stray hair out of his face, not looking up from his phone. “That’s kind of the whole point of the entertainment industry.”

Hoshi turned onto his back, now spread-eagle. “That’s dumb.”

“And? What are you going to do about it?”

What was Hoshi going to do about it? He couldn’t do anything about public opinion, he couldn’t do anything about your dancing skill, and he probably couldn’t do anything about your company’s opinion, either. There wasn’t really anything he could do.

Hoshi took too long to answer, so Minghao finally glanced up from his phone to see him staring at the ceiling thoughtfully. “Are we dropping her? Are we keeping her on? Are we going to try and convince her people to let her go in a different direction?”

“Have you ever thought about teaching a ballroom dance class?”

Minghao actually set his phone down out of sheer confusion. He blinked and shook his head, sure he hadn’t just heard what he thought he’d heard. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, it’s not like it’s going to actually help, but it might be a fun way to pass the time until she makes her decision.” He paused. “Or the company makes it for her.”

“I’m still stuck on the last thing you said—ballroom?” Minghao asked incredulously, sitting forward. “You’re not actually thinking about ballroom.”

Hoshi shrugged and looked at Minghao from the floor, upside-down. “It’s more fun than trying not to pop a blood vessel every week.”

“We’re a K-pop dance studio,” Minghao said. “What is her company going to say when they find out you’ve been teaching her ballroom?”

“At least it’s something,” Hoshi replied, flipping back onto his stomach. “And at least I can lead.”

—

You were used to Hoshi touching you to correct your position, but not like this. It wasn’t even that he was too close because there was actually a considerable amount of space between the two of you and he had probably been closer before. This just felt so…intimate.

His hand was on your waist, your hand was on his shoulder, and your other hand was held in the air by his. You had only seen this stuff in western period dramas and cartoons. Only when you did it, you didn’t really feel like high society in your sweatpants.

“Feet together,” he instructed, modeling for you. “I’m going to teach you a box step.”

You put your feet together, tapping the rubber sides of your shoes together. “Like a jazz square?”

“No. Well, maybe. Yes, but not really.” He let go of your hand momentarily to fix his hair. “Don’t worry about it. First, you’re going to step back when I step forward.”

He picked your hand back up from where you let it drop to your side. He moved his left foot forward, so you moved your left foot backward.

“Nope, try again. Like a mirror,” he said. “My left foot, your right foot.

You reset to try again. He stepped forward with his left foot, and you moved your right foot back. He froze, so you didn’t make another move.

“Good! Next, move your left foot down so it’s level with your right foot, but shoulder-width apart.”

“Huh?”

He swept his right foot up in an arc to its next place. “Like that, but back. Make your feet mirror mine.”

You tried to follow his fancy arc, but you must have curved it the wrong way. It felt awkward, even though your feet ended up in the right place. “That can’t be right,” you worried.

“Hmm, not quite,” he agreed. He let go of your hand and your waist, so you took your hand off his shoulder. He stood next to you, his hands still up as if you were across from him. “Copy me.” He stepped his right foot back. “One.”

You left your arms down and stepped your right foot back. “One.”

“No, no, keep your arms up. One,” he said, demonstrating the first step again.

Fighting back a sigh, you held your arms up as instructed and took another step back. “One.”

“Good, now two,” he said, sweeping his left foot back and across.

This time, the curve of the path felt much more natural. “Two.”

“See? Not so hard,” he encouraged. He picked up his right foot and placed it down next to his left foot. “Three.”

You copied him once more. “Three.”

“Okay, great! That was the first half,” he explained. “The second half is the same, but forward.”

You scrunched your eyebrows, watching both your feet and his. “Right foot forward?”

“Mirrored and forward,” he corrected himself. “It’s called a box step because we make a box with our steps. Left foot forward—one.”

“One,” you repeated, setting your left foot in front of you heavily.

“Keep your arms up,” he reminded you, pushing your elbow back up.

“What’s the point if you’re not even there?”

“To keep proper form. Now right foot up and shoulder length apart for two.”

You stomped your right foot up. “Two.”

“Stay light on your feet; it’ll help you move. Then feet together again for three.”

Much lighter, you brought your left foot back over. “Three.”

“And that’s the other half. Easy, right?” He looked at you expectantly.

You returned his smile with a grimace. “Simple and easy are different.”

To your surprise, he laughed at that. As in, it seemed genuine and not forced. “Alright, touché. Let’s try it a couple more times side by side and then we can try it together?” he suggested.

It was hard not to accept with his enthusiasm back up like the first few times he had taught you. Maybe he was like this because he had to care much less about your performance and more about making sure you had fun.

You mirrored him a few more times through the steps, with less separation between the steps every time. Just when you felt like you had it, he decided it was time for you to dance together again. You could already feel the six steps shuffling their order in your mind.

Once again, his right hand was on your waist, your left hand was on his shoulder, and your other hands were intertwined. There was a respectable distance between the two of you, still, but it felt like this was the closest you had ever been. Your heart was pounding in your ears, and you sure hoped he couldn’t hear it.

“Go ahead and watch your feet if you have to, but just for now,” he warned you. “You’re going to have to look up sooner or later.”

You snapped your head up faster than you could think. “At what?”

“At me.”

The actual distance between you might not have changed, but boy, oh boy, did it feel like it shrank to almost nothing.

He must have felt it, too, by the way his ears started to flush pink. “I mean, traditionally, you look at your partner in ballroom dance,” he clarified unconvincingly.

You nodded, deciding to believe him rather than make this any worse than it was for you. 

“Ready?” he asked. You nodded again. “Okay, I start forward with my left foot, and you…” He picked up his left foot and froze, waiting for your move.

If he was going to step forward, you would have to move if you didn’t want him to step on your toes. “I step back with my right foot.” You took the step, and he followed through with his.

“Next?”

“I move my left foot to the other corner?” You weren’t guessing, but you still marked uncertainty in your tone.

“Good—let’s try it.” His foot followed yours up to the next point. “Excellent. And then?”

“Feet together.” You didn’t wait for him to confirm this time, but he still moved in time with you. “And then…left foot forward.” It was like his foot moving backward pulled yours forward into place. “Right foot up…and feet together again.”

“That’s it! Keep going.”

You could start to see what he meant by leading and following. You were moving at the same time, but it was a bit like your feet were attached with strings and dowel rods. As you stopped narrating each step, he began to count softly and bounce into each step.

“One, two, three, one, two, three—see how you can shift your weight and make it smoother?” he interrupted himself. “Try to keep the weight on the balls of your feet.”

You were taken aback at how simple the change was, but how much more elegant it made you feel. He kept counting softly, and it felt natural when he started leading you to turn a bit with each step.

He did stop you after a few more rounds, but for once, it wasn’t to point out a mistake in frustration. It was instead to congratulate you on your success.

“Shall we try with some music?”

“Is it going to be fast?”

“Not much faster than we’ve already been doing,” he reassured you. “It’s not a hard dance to speed up, though.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you snickered. “You literally dance for a living.”

“No, I teach dance for a living. Big difference,” he emphasized jokingly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and a few moments later, some music came over the speakers. “Which means that I know you won’t have a hard time with this. Ready?”

Tuning into the music, you started to count in your head. Hoshi was right—it wasn’t that much faster than you had already practiced. It might have even been a little slower.

“For once, I think I might be.” You straightened your back, but you kept your eyes on your feet.

“Excellent! I’ll count us off. Which foot first?” he quizzed you.

“Um…” You went over it in your head. “My right, your left.”

“And you didn’t even phrase it as a question this time,” he said, genuinely praising you. “Ready? One, two, three, ready, set, go!”

It felt like magic. Really, it did. For the first time in your life, you were moving in rhythm with the music, and combined with the music, you were understanding how the two worked together for the first time, too. Eyes on your feet, it really almost felt effortless.

It felt even more like a period drama now, and you felt a little more like you belonged.

“It’s fun, isn’t it?” Hoshi commented.

“I can’t believe I’m actually doing it,” you agreed.

“What if you try to look up now?”

You hesitated. “I don’t know. I think the only reason this is working is because I can see my feet.”

“Just try,” he encouraged you. “Trust your feet for a second.”

You glanced up and back down, and then raised your head. Earlier he said you were supposed to look up at him, right? You could try.

So you looked up and found his face right in front of yours.

Funnily enough, he was right in telling you to trust your feet; they kept moving in the correct pattern even though your brain was totally short-circuiting. You felt close enough to count all his eyelashes, which was easier with his eyes widened like that.

He was surprised, too—he wasn’t expecting your proximity to shrink like that. However, he kept moving just as you did, too stunned to break eye contact or try to widen the gap.

Minghao dropped something on the floor in his corner, snapping you out of your trance. Hoshi glanced over your shoulder to see what was up, but his eyes were back on you in record time.

You cleared your throat as your senses were returned to you. “I’ll just…look at the wall or something,” you mumbled, trying to look like you were absentmindedly staring over his shoulder rather than fixating your gaze purposefully away from him.

“No, you don’t have to do that,” he tried to brush you off casually. “That was my fault. I promise it’s not as awkward if we’re talking.”

So he was admitting that just happened, and it was awkward. Cool.

Your eyes flickered back over to meet his, which were now much more relaxed, but you ultimately stayed looking away from him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded in one fluid, dramatic motion. “Promise.”

Once again, he was right. He didn’t make you look at him right away, but once he started talking to you, asking about your instrument, what you liked about making music, how your grades were in high school, the makeup products you used, even the color of your toothbrush (what?), it was natural to look at him. The distance didn’t grow back, really, but it became comfortable.

After a while, and probably more than a couple songs worth of talking, he stopped you. “One more thing we’ll practice today,” he introduced.

“Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” you asked suspiciously.

Minghao snorted from the corner. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?” he asked himself in a voice that he only meant for himself to hear.

“No more bad feelings!” Hoshi demanded. “You already learned to waltz, so let’s just add a little trick. I’ll teach you how to spin.”

Minghao narrowed his eyes at the two of you. He glanced at the clock and decided that while, sure, there was enough time to teach you this, it wasn’t part of the original lesson plan. He was right about the bad feeling. Hoshi didn’t look at just anyone like that.

[crithaus]

Fun facts about me, tonight is the very first time I've ever watched the Letter being read out loud, I've finally finished EP 69, and boy do I have thoughts and feelings

Like fuck RQ for her handling of Percy asking for her help. Like I get it, Percy's an ass, but this scared young man, too young, comes to you, ye omnipotent near all-powerful goddess, for the help you offered his friends, his family, for a chance at redemption, and you give him a panic attack and tell him he was always this fucked up?? Fuck off with that. I'm glad she gets better but man.

And lastly, the letter. I gotta tell you, to hear that self-deprecating, self-loathing letter, written right after that ill-fated talk with RQ at the Lowest point in the campaign for him, when the whole episode has been nothing but VM being so absolutely and catastrophically ruined by Percy's gruesome death at the hands of a woman who'd been abusing him since he was in his teens, -like and that too how absolutely horrible it was for Percy to die at her hands specifically, and how poetic, at the hands of what he very nearly became, at the hands of his near perfect dark mirror so all the blows sting all the worse and fucking orthax too cuz Percy just has to watch all of his past mistakes and past nightmares come back to haunt him,- but I digress

Like the tearful confessions, Keyleth freeing him from Orthax's grip and the torture therein cuz he just can't catch a break, Vax shelving his own fury at Percy for forgiveness instead because losing him ain't worth the grudge, VEX'S WHOLE SPEECH AND TRUE LOVE'S CRIT AND "and I kiss him," the first time and "I should have told you, it's yours," and the fact that that damn confession was enough for Taliesin to reconsider shelving Percy entirely then and there, and ofc the others too, Keyleth's and Vax's and Pike's too yea, but Vex's at the forefront and the way they all killed Anna first of all for him, Scanlan nixing the carefree persona cuz this situation is just that important for Percy. The way this party who have been trying so hard to be better completely brutalize her because it's what both she and Percy deserve...

And to hear that letter after it's all said and done and be confronted with the fact that they nearly lost Percy for good but won't ever allow that to happen twice.....man. to hear that goodbye when they fought tooth and nail to get him back...

Percy's letter was sweet. But wrong. All that Vax had said to Kynan is ringing in all their ears now. Percy's battered yes, and much of that was the world being cruel and not his fault, he's battered but. not broken.

[au-wannabe-the-very-best]

Sounds like Alxi is gearing up for a journey to find himself and figure out what he wants to do, if he wants to stay. Not like he has much of a choice unless he gets tossed back home.

Would he eventually get his own place, once he gets his documents settled, or would the brothers all decide to move to a new place with 3 bedrooms? It would be nice if they all decide they are still family, even if they aren't blood related. He could even still work at a train station if he wanted, since he still has the experience.

Alexi is going through a huge existential crisis, for the second time, and is a little too scared to really. Talk about it with anyone. Instead choosing to try and deal with it himself.

Meanwhile, Emmet is terrified to even talk to Alexi, because he was a major player in Alexi's first existential crisis and somehow convinced the poor guy that he was his missing twin brother.

Alexi is kind of convinced for a while that he'll have to figure out new living arrangements and just. Move out of Emmet's life. Which is something Emmet doesn't want either, because as complicated as things are, Alexi for all intents and purposes was his brother for the past five years, even if he wasn't Ingo. Like, Alexi made him soup when he was sick, scolded him when he overworked himself, play wrestled him, all the works. Emmet can't stop Alexi from wanting to move away, after all, Emmet... Contributed to this guy's brainwashing. But he doesn't want Alexi gone either.

Ingo is actually the one to convince Alexi to stick around. Ingo, for very obvious reasons, has no preconceived notions about who Alexi is and what he should be like. Ingo personally has done nothing to wrong Alexi directly. It's so much easier to interact with Ingo than everybody else, who act so stilted around Alexi. (You know. Because of the guilt and horror.)

Ingo just. Talks with Alexi. About everything and anything. Alexi ends up giving Ingo his "memory journal" where he's kept a record of things from the past five years, because the journal includes stories that Ingo's family told Alexi in hopes of "jogging his memory." Although Ingo remembers Emmet and his home now, he's still got a bad case of amnesia, so Alexi thought this would be helpful for him in the way it wasn't helpful to Alexi.

Ingo finds himself very touched by the entries of Alexi's journal. It's meticulously kept, and Alexi is very clear about what he's feeling in the moments he records. Alexi very obviously loves Emmet. Loves the friends and family Ingo had trouble remembering. Alexi writes about their mannerisms and their ticks, taking special care in these notes because "you should be able to recognize who they are by these traits, even if you were to lose your memories once more."

Alexi thought he had lost his memories and kept a record in the case he ever lost them again, and this proves to be incredibly useful for Ingo. Alexi is more than happy in aiding Ingo's efforts in regaining his memories. The two become close as a result, and Ingo finds himself treating Alexi as a brother.

Ingo is rather honest about wanting Alexi in his life. It immediately makes Alexi reconsider leaving.

They still need to move, of course. Ingo came back with an entire team from Hisui. They kind of need a bigger place to house all these new Pokémon. (And Alexi's Ferroseed. Can't forget the newest addition.)

And as for Alexi's job. He actually needs to get his certification in his own name to continue working at the station. And Ingo's been gone for five years so HE needs to get reexamined as well. They become study buddies for a while.

[ghouly-boiiiii]

My Name Is Cooper

Chapter 6 Push-y and Shove-y and Cut-Off-Finger-y

(Lucy x Cooper Howard / The Ghoul)

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

Tags: angst, fluff, romance, humor, banter, femdom, alcohol and drug use, eventual smut

In this chapter…

She shook her head, and despite the heaviness in her heart, put in the tape... Because there was also a comfort there, too. That handsome man on the screen. Mr. Cooper Howard. Even though she was much older now, she still carried that torch. He was so suave, so debonair. When she was young, anytime she felt stressed or overwhelmed, she’d put in one of his movies and it always made her feel better. She remembered fantasizing about marrying that man and having children with him. Having a glorious life out in the wide open country. Riding horses and lassoing things. It didn’t matter what. Could be rocks for all she cared. He was the cowboy of her dreams. Nothing gave her the butterflies and tinglies like Mr. Cooper Howard did.

But then, something else started to come over her. 

It was odd. As she watched the film, something felt different. Seeing him was giving her a… strange sense of Deja-vu. Not the kind you would expect, having seen the film so many times. No, it was something else. Certain ways that he spoke. How he moved. Gestures he would make. His cadence, his demeanor, how he walked. The brow raise. The half-smile… He was so... different, and yet…

He reminded her of The Ghoul…

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1,929

SPOILER WARNING: Contains all the spoilers

No trigger warnings except eventual sexy time with a zombie man.

Lucy did as she had offered and proceeded to put those dirty old rags of his in the wash. She didn’t know how people dealt with not being able to bathe. She didn’t know how she was gonna deal with it. A hot shower was enough to make her feel like her old self again. Almost enough to make her reconsider her conviction about never going back to the vault... And seeing how The Ghouls clothes had fared didn’t help much. 

They were stinky and crusty with dirt and blood and God knows what else. And torn to bits. When’s the last time he got something new to wear, she wondered. He was so mean and nasty, and yet…

There was a feeling growing in her. A feeling she knew, but… the source confused her. She tried to stuff it down, ignore it, but it was there. And she didn’t know why. Maybe it was too much sun. Maybe the old food. Maybe not enough sleep. But the more time she spent with him. Every time she thought about him. There it was.

She kept trying to remind herself how awful he was to her before, looking down at her discolored finger and remembering the smirk on his face as he sliced it off. That said…

The more time she spent out in the Wasteland, the more she realized… lessons came hard and fast. She couldn’t expect anyone to ease her transition into this cruel and unforgiving world. Why would he treat her any different?

Then again, what was she supposed to do? Say it was okay? Because it definitely wasn't. Behavior like that is never okay, even if you are an irradiated wasteland cowboy. There's no excuse for it.

She huffed at herself. 

What the hell was wrong with her? Having butterflies and warm fuzzies in her tummy like a teen crush… over him? It was gross. She must be losing her ever-loving mind. How could she feel this way, after what he did to her?

And it wasn’t just her either. He killed people. Lots of people. He shot that nice man who was gonna tell her about his mom’s apple pie. And then he ate him! And made her cut his behind up for leftovers! He tied her up by her neck, dragged her around the desert and refused to give her water! He even poured some on the ground in front of her just to be a jerk! Then he made her drink out of that… well, she wasn’t sure what it was. She just knew it was the most disgusting thing she ever tasted, and it gave her radiation poisoning! Why, if she hadn’t stumbled upon Max, she’d be dead! 

She decided to chalk it up to the trauma. Everything she’d been through. It was hard, and there was no one there to comfort her. So it made sense that she might want to cling to the one person who happened to be around. Her mind was just looking for comfort, wherever she could find it. Yeah. That was it.

Speaking of comfort, she found herself appreciating more than ever the many amenities vaults had to offer. As much as she felt sick with herself about it, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the television set and the video tapes stacked beside it. Once she was done putting the clothes in the wash, she looked through the titles, and one stood out that she knew all too well. It was a film called, ‘A Man and his Dog’. 

The former vault dweller paused as she stared down at it and a flood of memories came back to her. She couldn’t count how many times she sat down and watched this film with her dad. Ever since she was a kid. He loved this movie. Loved all the Cooper Howard movies. He was a huge fan. Always ranting and raving about what an amazing actor he was. He even had some pre-war memorabilia with the guy's autograph on it. 

She remembered how he would joke about how he wanted her to marry a man like that someday. She would act disgusted, but secretly she found herself swooning helplessly for the Hollywood actor. And she wasn’t the only one either. Pre-war movies were one of the few remaining forms of entertainment from the time. A glimpse into the past. And even though all the actors were long gone, it didn’t stop anyone from being keen on them. She and Stephanie would often steal her dads movies and hide out in her room, watching them over and over, chattering on about how dreamy and handsome Cooper Howard was, and arguing over which of the two he’d pick to marry. 

Of course, she would never tell her dad that. But he figured it out soon enough when his tapes started going missing for extended periods of time, then reappearing randomly in dubious places. He sure got a kick out of it too. Always going on and making fun, in a friendly way of course. She thought he seemed quite delighted that she liked the man, maybe even more than he did…

She swallowed hard as she thought about her father. All the good times they shared. All the jokes. All the long discussions about the latest book they were reading. The excitement over a healthy, abundant crop. How he held and rocked her when she got hurt as a child. How he looked at her with such love and pride.

‘You are my world…’

Lucy parted her lips and took in a shaky breath, then swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped the tear from her cheek. She took another deep breath and looked at the ceiling, trying to stuff down the sadness and grief.

Even though she was angry and disgusted by him. By what he’d done. She still missed him. She wondered where he was. If he was okay. Hoping that wherever he was going, he would be safe. Part of her wanted nothing more but to see him again and give him a hug. Part of her regretted not giving him more of a chance to explain himself. Wondering if she’d reacted too rashly. She wanted to believe he was a good man. But good men don’t destroy cities. Good men don’t lie to their families. Good men don’t make themselves a part of a plot to… control the whole freaking world…

She shook her head, and despite the heaviness in her heart, put in the tape... Because there was also a comfort there, too. That handsome man on the screen. Mr. Cooper Howard. Even though she was much older now, she still carried that torch. He was so suave, so debonair. When she was young, anytime she felt stressed or overwhelmed, she’d put in one of his movies and it always made her feel better. She remembered fantasizing about marrying that man and having children with him. Having a glorious life out in the wide open country. Riding horses and lassoing things. It didn’t matter what. Could be rocks for all she cared. He was the cowboy of her dreams. Nothing gave her the butterflies and tinglies like Mr. Cooper Howard did.

But then, something else started to come over her. 

It was odd. As she watched the film, something felt different. Seeing him was giving her a… strange sense of Deja-vu. Not the kind you would expect, having seen the film so many times. No, it was something else. Certain ways that he spoke. How he moved. Gestures he would make. His cadence, his demeanor, how he walked. The brow raise. The half-smile… He was so... different, and yet…

He reminded her of The Ghoul…

Lucy laughed a little out loud. How strange, that two men who are so very different could seem so similar. Perhaps that explains the odd familiarity she felt around the old bounty hunter. The butterflies. Of course. He happened to remind her of her highschool movie crush. How gross… and silly… and… weird…

Suddenly, she was interrupted from her thoughts as the washer started beeping.

The former vault dweller shook her head and went to put the clothes in the dryer. As she pulled out The Ghoul’s shirt, she realized that - now clean - it wasn’t black and brown as she had previously thought. But actually more… blue and gold. It was still stained and faded, and torn to shit, but it was familiar to her too. Why… it looked a lot like the shirt Cooper Howard wore in ‘The Man From Deadhorse’.

Lucy stared down at it, puzzling and puzzling. It had to be a coincidence. There was no way it was the same shirt. She was sure they made tons of shirts like this, back before the war. Maybe even after the war. Maybe it was just a very popular style of shirt cowboys wore. Who knows? 

She threw it in the dryer with the rest of the clothes and tried to put the nagging thoughts out of her mind as she went back to her movie, stopping briefly to grab the half-empty bottle of whisky The Ghoul had left on the table by the recliner. But the thoughts kept beating against her skull like a drum. There was no way. No way it could be him. NO FLIPPIN’ WAY. 

‘I’ve been waiting over two-hundred years to ask somebody one question…’

He’d been around since before the bombs…

‘You wanna notha’ autograph, young Henry?’

He asked her dad if he… wanted 'another autograph'...

‘Feo fuerte y formal.’

She sat on her knees, right in front of the screen and squinted her eyes at the black-and-white picture. Looking for evidence to contradict her silly theory. 

But he was the right height. The right build. His eyes… his lips… his hands…

It couldn’t be. It just… couldn’t be.

She shut the movie off, and sat there with her thoughts.

...But what if it was?

Her heart sank at the idea. That the man who had lived rent-free in her brain for so long, in their imaginary farmhouse with their imaginary children and imaginary dogs and cows and chickens… That perfect man, and a perfect patriot, with the perfect smile. The All-American family man who served his country with honor and dignity… That man... could have ended up like… like this. All those nights she imagined him gently holding her and kissing her and whispering sweet nothings. When the reality was he was push-y and shove-y and grump-y and cannibal-y and cut-off-finger-y. That would be just… awful.

The Ghoul said he was like her once. Which means he used to be a good person, right? But this wasteland broke him and took everything good away. Turned him into something twisted and menacing. If this man she hated so much, was also the man that she so once adored… What did that even mean?

She knew Cooper Howard was a good man. She obviously never knew him in person, but she just knew, based on what little there was published on his life two-hundred years ago, that he was a good person. She was sure of it… Could someone like that really fall so far from grace?

Could she?

When she looked at The Ghoul… was she really looking at her own fate? Her future self? Future Lucy?

The idea terrified her to her core. She shuddered at the idea, then took another drink of the whiskey and gagged at the burn. 

That was it… She was going to get SO fucking drunk.

To be continued...

<< Previous Chapter | Next Chapter >>

[novankenn]

I Refuse! (7)

/== Table of Contents ==/

Joan was not in a good mood, as she accompanied her team to the cafeteria, and that mood worsened even more when she saw Weiss Schnee and in the distance Cardin Winchester. It was bad enough that Joan was hiding at Beacon, but to not only have the two sisters of the young men engaged to her younger sisters, but also her own potential groom in attendance… was pushing it for her. At least she thought it was until Ruby appeared right in front of her.

“Jaune!” Ruby cringed and bit her lip at Jaune’s startled flinch. “Sorry!”

“It’s… it’s okay.” Joan stuttered out, trying to keep her voice in a neutral tone.

“Do you want to sit with me and my team?” Ruby asked, a bright smile on her face. “And I mean all of you… If you want to?”

“Jaune?” Pyrrha asked in a concerned tone as she noticed Jaune’s body stiffen. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Joan lied, as her eyes zeroed in on Weiss.

“Jaune, are you feeling okay?” Ruby asked, as she noticed Jaune’s demeanor change.

“I’m… I’m fine.” Joan lied once again.

“Maybe we can take a rain-check? Ruby was it?” Pyrrha asked.

“I’ll catch with you all later.” Jaune suddenly spoke up. “I have an appointment with the doctor I just remembered.”

“Appointment?” Ruby and Pyrrha asked in unison.

“Jaune?” Nora added.

“It’s nothing serious, just something I’m supposed to speak with them about.” Joan tried to explain without revealing that she just wanted to be away from everyone.

“If you’re sure it’s not serious, we can always meet up after your appointment.” Ren offered, giving Joan a lifeline she eagerly grabbed hold of.

“Sure. The library? We could check out some of the books on the syllabus!” and before anyone else could say anything else, Joan took off, and vanished out through the doors into the corridor.

“Is it just me, or does it seem like Jaune is avoiding people, and hiding something?” Nora asked. Everyone else shrugged their shoulders, well everyone but Ren that was.

With nothing else, Ruby extended her invitation to the rest of her first friend’s team, and they all, due to Nora’s insistence, agreed to join Ruby and her team for breakfast. Ren looked back over his shoulder at the doorway that Jaune had vanished through, making a mental note to speak with his teammate at the first chance he could get him in private.

/==/

Away from the sight of others, Joan shuddered. Her anxiety and revulsion about being near members of the families that were, in her mind, getting ready to rape her sisters finally getting the best of her. Joan was pretty positive that is she ever met Pyrrha or Weiss outside the debacle that was currently plaguing her family… she could attempt to be friends with them. But right now… was not that time.

Working her way about the corridors of Beacon, Joan made her way in the exact opposite direction of the infirmary. As much as the Headmaster’s deal sounded good, the fact that the lunatic launched her off a cliff into a grimm filled forest, knowing full well she had barely any combat training, was making her reconsider her options. So she was going to make a quick trip to Vale and test the waters with her original plan.

“And where might you be trying to… sneak off to?” 

Joan shrieked and whipped around her fist coated in golden light and sprouting a set of three wicked dagger like blades. Which shattered into harmless motes of golden light when the end of a walking cane jabbed her in the solar plexus. Coughing and choking, Joan stumbled backwards.

“Please refrain from lashing out with your semblance… Ms Arc. Aside from the teaching staff and the upper year students, most will not have the skill or power to avoid serious injury.”

“You (cough) hit (hack) me.”

“You didn’t give me much choice.” Ozpin replied as the metal end of his cane tapped against the stones of the courtyard. “Now, I couldn’t help but notice you seemed intent on leaving Beacon grounds. You wouldn’t be attempting to back out of our arrangement, would you?”

[anonymous-authors]

"ROSES ARE RED..."

◇ modern AU | childhood friends

scaramouche x gn!reader

tw: blood, death, angst, not proofread

author's notes: this is a fanfic, anything that is written here is not connected to the in-game lore, so the characters will be OOC

you and scara had been friends since middle-school. but as days passes by, you two started to become more distant with each other. although you're trying to avoid him, he kept nagging you to take care of yourself. you're keeping a secret from him, that is... you're slowly dying of the disease called hanahaki disease, you knew scara don't love you back, so you resigned to your fate and accept the reality that you will slowly die from the so-called disease.

"hey get back here, y/n!" scara shouted at you. "it's raining dummy!"

"I won't! if you give me a kiss I'll reconsider it!" y/n runs happily in the rain.

he sighs loudly "You're really acting like this, do you enjoy it?" you can see him starting to enjoy the situation as he smirks at you, his eyes glinting in amusement for a moment before being veiled in annoyance again.

"if you really want to go get wet like a idiot then whatever. I can't help you if that's your choice. but don't come crying to me later if you caught a cold." he huffs and puts on his earbuds and tries to ignore you as you happily run in the rain

y/n suddenly realised "...yeah... like you care if I get sick or not...! whatever..." the rain starts to pour heavily and y/n is drenched.

"...idiot..." he mumbled as he shakes his head and continues to blast music with his earbuds

you can tell that he is bothered by something as his eyebrow twitches, but what was bothering him? you don't know. deep down his heart ached that the person he cared so much believed he doesn't like them back. he didn't want to care, but he can't just help himself.

the music drowns out the sound of the rain around scata as his feet splashed in the puddles. scara"s eyes start to sting slightly from the rain.

y/n came home drench in water

"....." y/n runs to their room and quietly sobs.

the silence was deafening. scara wondered what he should do, he didn't feel good about the interaction he had with y/n. he wanted to go after y/n to apologize, comfort them, but he stopped himself before he could do anything, because he didn't want to be rejected.

"Just pretend it didn't happen." he says to himself as he tried to distract himself.

he puts his headphones back in and turns up the volume so he can't hear his own thoughts as he tried his best to act like nothing was wrong.

y/n locking the doors and windows tightly, covering everything so no one can see them.

y/n starts coughing blood again "......" they're sobbing

you hear a knock on the door

"Y/N!!" the voice of scaramouche yells in the halls

he sounds worried, worried enough to drop his pride and actually go check on you. the knock on the door is repeated again and again. slamming his hands against your door. "open this door or I'll break it down. Its me, I want to talk to you." he yells in an aggravated tone.

if he was in the same room as you, you could probably hear his heart pounding from how angry he seemed to be and how fast his breath was, you have never heard him like this.

y/n is mumbling something. "r-r-roses a-are... r-red... v-voilets... are blue... s-s-scara... I love... you..." y/n coughing up more blood and petals "I hate it... I saw him happily talking to... someone else..." y/n clutching their chest, cause it hurts so bad.

"I can hear you coughing, please open the damn door!" he yells knocking again.

"Y/N I SWEAR TO BARBATOS IF YOU DONT OPEN THIS DOOR... " he trails off but it's obvious how angry and worried he is. he takes a deep breath trying to calm himself before knocking hard on the door again.

he's starting to get more worried that he has wasted too much time already, he really wants to see you, but how is he going to get in if you're refusing and trying to ignore him?

y/n breathing heavily, feeling cold as more blood dripping off of their mouth "........." y/n coughs more and more petals.

"open the damn door!" he yells at the door clearly getting frustrated he tries to get rid of his pride just for his sake, but his prideful nature makes it difficult for him.

he punches the wall besides him in anger hurting his fist and causing himself more pain.

"I'm gonna count to three, open the door or I'm breaking it down! " he says as he holds out his finger for emphasis.

"one.. two.." he waits a moment. "THREE!" he kicks the door down.

y/n coughing more and more blood, slowly losing consciousness. "......." y/n's vision is starting to get blurry.

scara comes running inside and immediately notices your condition you look like you're slowly losing consciousness there is blood dripping down your mouth he panicks as he comes rushing to your side.

"Y/N!" he grabs you and shakes you hard trying to wake you up "y/n! y/n!"

he starts to cry in panic "you have to stay awake!" he says in a shaky voice as the tears roll down his face.

"t-tired..." y/n's shaky voice. "I'm... tired..." y/n is slowly losing all consciousness and strength.

"don't...give...up.. please..." he says with a worried voice as he holds your hand tightly trying to keep you up.

you feel scaramouche starting to cry loudly.

"please.." he whispers as he starts to sob hysterically. "just...hold on..."

he shakes you repeatedly again trying to get your attention back, he feels helpless he doesn't want to lose you

"I want... to sleep... scara..." closes our eyes "I'm tired... scara..."

scaramouche grabs your shoulders and shakes you hard shouting your name as he panics

"y/n! WAKE UP!" he keeps yelling desperately

"wake up please! y/n you can't die!" he cries even louder.

tears keeps rolling down his face as he holds your cold and limp body in his arms. "wake up please!"

[empoleon]

stranger things have happened

• rated m, one shot, 3088 words

• also available to read here

Wolfwood is humming something against the fabric of Vash’s shirt—his shirt, because Vash has taken to wearing his articles of clothing as of late—when Vash speaks up.

“They like that,” he says softly, tilting his head back with a smile.

Wolfwood pauses, lips ghosting a kiss near the spot where he was singing. “’S just something I heard a long time ago.”

From the orphanage, but it goes unspoken. Vash is fairly certain it’s in Wolfwood’s mother tongue as well, but he doesn’t comment on it—bringing that up now would probably embarrass him enough to stop and Vash certainly doesn’t want that.

They're in bed together at some rundown inn—traveling too much with Vash in his current state puts a bit of a strain on both of them, so it’s easier if they make frequent stops. They just need to be careful. They have to be careful.

Wolfwood would never forgive himself if something happened to—

It’s almost unnerving to feel the faintest movement touch the skin of his cheek, stopping his train of thought immediately. It’s such a brief feeling and he almost questions if it actually happened, but Vash beats him to it.

“Nick, did you—?”

“Yeah,” Wolfwood glances up at him, unable to hide the awe in his voice. “He moved.”

 .

 150 years. A century and a half, and Vash did not know about this. 

To be fair, there is a lot about himself that he isn’t aware of, either purposely brushing it off as a one-off occurrence or simply refusing to acknowledge it. 

Plant anatomy wasn’t something he was keen to learn about. He understood his basic, primal needs and that was that. 

Humans, on the other hand…

Cross-species breeding simply never came to mind. And even if it did, Vash was far too busy enjoying the feeling of Wolfwood on top of him, holding him close, whispering things he longed to hear—knowing that each spoken word was true—he loves you, all of you, every single piece of your being, every scar and blemish branded from God himself.

(He loves you.)

 .

 “Oi, blondie—you want to tell me why you dragged me out here again?”

The dim lighting in the old saloon feels suitable at this moment, one of the lights flickering idly. It’s noisy, overcrowded and Vash almost reconsiders his priorities. 

“How ’bout a drink first?”

It’s not something Wolfwood refuses, but he eyes the glass of water that is placed on their shared table. It’s murky in color, with a few specks of dirt swirling around, but it’s better than what they have seen in the previous towns. 

Wolfwood grabs his own glass, filled with a smooth amber tinge. “So,” he takes a swig and licks his lips. “What’s wrong?”

Vash wants to laugh. Leave it to Wolfwood to get straight to the point. 

“Nothing! Well, mostly nothing,“ Vash gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You know how it is.”

Except Wolfwood doesn’t know, with the way Vash keeps skirting around the topic at hand. 

The alcohol in his system is beginning to warm him up, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think Vash is about to say something unimaginable. It worries him.

There’s a ruckus outside the saloon that quickly enters through the double swing doors, men shouting unintelligible things—words like ‘bounty’ and ‘where is he?’ are all that Wolfwood needs to hear before he downs the rest of his drink and roughly grabs Vash by the arm. 

“Hey, wait—I didn’t get to finish my drink!” Vash whines dramatically as he stumbles to his feet. One of the men arguing with another patron glances over towards them and Wolfwood curses.

“Damn it! Will you shut it?” He swivels around and pulls Vash into a corner of the saloon, trying to obscure the view of the humanoid typhoon from any onlookers. Miraculously, it works.

The commotion dies down after the barkeep threatens to drain the tap and close up for the evening. Those who initially caused the uproar either slip back out into the night or decide it’s time for a drink.

Vash really wishes he could have one right now, too. The water on the table may not taste great, but his throat has never felt so dry.

His arms find their way around Wolfwood’s waist, and he holds him there for a moment, in the corner of that saloon. The lights flicker again.

“I need to talk to you.”

 .

 “Guess he likes my voice,” Wolfwood smooths a hand against the swell of Vash’s belly. 

“He?” Vash can’t hide the curiosity in his voice at the word, raising an eyebrow. “What makes you so sure?” 

“Spikey, there is absolutely no way in hell you’re giving me a daughter,” Wolfwood states it so seriously that Vash starts to laugh. “I mean it. My heart won’t be able to take it.” 

 .

 When he finally manages to tell Wolfwood what has been ailing him, he isn’t entirely sure what to expect, reaction wise.

Yelling or swearing? An average response, perhaps the best possible outcome, especially when it comes to the man Vash has known for so many years now. Calling him names falls under this category as well.

What he didn’t expect was the silence, or Wolfwood’s cigarette falling out of his mouth a second later. 

“You’re—”

Vash nods, unable to say anything else. It’s hard to meet those dark eyes that are glued to his body.

“And it’s…” Wolfwood trails off, motioning to himself.

Another nod. 

There’s a long pause before everything goes back to normal—whatever that actually is, Vash isn’t certain, but it feels like he can breathe again once Wolfwood regains his senses and finally says more than a few words.

“I thought you said we didn’t need to use condoms!” Wolfwood exclaims. “I asked you three times!”

Three separate times, in fact. Vash groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I mean, we don’t need to—we’ve never had—I didn’t think this was possible,” he settles on saying, because it’s true. 

This was purely impossible, and yet somehow, after 150 years, his body finally decided it was time. 

“With how often we fuck, I’m surprised this didn’t happen sooner,” Wolfwood mutters. 

He’s not wrong, as embarrassing as it is to think about it.

“So…” Vash wrings his hands together, eyes flickering between Wolfwood and the cigarette that has long since been forgotten on the ground. He moves his boot to step on it, putting it out. 

“So,” Wolfwood parrots, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Are you okay? With all of this, I mean.”

“Me?” Vash blinks, confused. “I guess so, I was mostly worried about—”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before Wolfwood reaches over and pulls Vash into an embrace.

“Save it, blondie,” he says quietly. “You and I both know I’m fine with kids.” Wolfwood is also not wrong about that. 

“That’s not what I asked you.”

Are you okay with this? Is this what you want?

“I—yeah,” Vash lets out a shaky breath. “I really am.” He wraps his arms around Wolfwood’s neck and buries his face into his shoulder. “Thank you, Nick.”

For everything.

 .

 A daughter… she would look just like you, Nick, Vash thinks to himself while Wolfwood continues to argue with him—with their child. And she would act like you, too.

“I don’t need two needle-noggins in my life,” he says sternly, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “So please inherit some damn common sense—”

“I have plenty of common sense,” Vash interrupts him. “For example—”

Wolfwood scoots his hand up underneath Vash’s t-shirt and squeezes the warm skin of Vash’s hip with a rough hand, eliciting a yelp out of him.

“Don’t say another word,” he grumbles, “unless you want me to knock more of that so-called sense into you.”

Vash’s smile is everything devious in nature. “I would love to see you try.”

 .

 The first time Wolfwood sees just how different Vash is as far as humans go, he’s equal parts aroused and surprised.

“You really weren’t kidding,” he says while trailing a finger across the inner part of Vash’s upper thigh, tracing a scar that mars the skin there. It stops just short of what he could only describe as thin, petal-like folds, tightly wound and—quivering? “This is pretty freaky, spikey.”

“Don’t tease me,” Vash all but huffs as his body is out on display for him. One too many drinks later and they find themselves in yet another unfamiliar, yet all too recognizable inn bedroom. 

It was easy for both of them to make it to this point—they always, always do, but this time it is different. It’s edging closer to something that neither one of them can turn away from.

Wolfwood grins at him. “Oh, I’m just getting started.”

 “Can you—y-yes, right there,” Vash’s calves tighten around Wolfwood’s shoulders instinctively, hands gripping the bed sheets beneath him. 

“Easy, Vash,” Wolfwood is a little breathless when he pulls back, a hand trailing along the metal of his prosthetic. “Digging into my neck a bit there.”

Vash almost immediately tries to sit up, looking extremely concerned. “Shit, I’m so sorry—”

Wolfwood carefully presses a hand to Vash’s lower abdomen, stopping him. “It’s fine, sweetheart,” he licks his lips. “Lie back down.”

His legs loosen a bit, this time more mindful of Wolfwood’s fleshy shoulders. Vash had insisted on leaving his prosthetics on, enjoying being able to anchor himself against his lover. 

Wolfwood continues where he left off, nose brushing the inner, wetter petals that are waiting for him, taking in Vash’s scent with a soft inhale. 

He flicks his tongue across them, watching as they unfurl and invite him into something far greater. 

“Nick—” Vash arches his back with a groan. “More, I—”

“More what?” Wolfwood murmurs it against the opening of his slit, lips finding their way around the swell of a small bud that is nestled between it. “Full sentences.”

“More, please,” Vash’s voice trembles, “Don’t fucking stop.”

“Language, sweetheart,” Wolfwood presses a kiss to the bud, nips at it gently with his teeth and proceeds to curl his tongue around it. 

He sucks long and slow, far too slow for Vash’s liking, evident in the way he hears another groan come from him. 

Vash’s hand reaches for Wolfwood’s hair, tugging as he rocks his hips closer.

“Oh, Nick,” he gasps this time and Wolfwood is certain that he’s close, noticing how the room begins to glow a touch brighter. 

Seeing those intricate patterns spark to life across various parts of Vash’s body ignites something truly deep within Wolfwood, far deeper than any spoken word of some higher being he could imagine.

They dance across scarred legs, skipping over pieces of well worn beryl-infused metal, trailing up Vash’s torso, his neck—

Vash shudders when he comes, fingers flexing into Wolfwood’s hair, purposefully forcing the man to stay put between his legs.

Not that Wolfwood would have ever minded.

He laps up everything that Vash gives to him and tries to coax out even more with his mouth, relishing the sweet taste that hits his tongue. 

“Still with me, darlin’?” Wolfwood breaks away from him with a quiet gasp. He brings a hand up to his lips and wipes at it, grinning. 

“Uh-huh,” is the only coherent response he gets, Vash’s body going limp with bliss. “’S good, Nick, you’re so good.”

“Preaching to the choir, I see,” Wolfwood runs a hand up Vash’s thigh, tracing along the intricate plant markings and noting how they shimmer brighter with each touch. “Let’s see what else that pretty mouth of yours can do.”

 .

 “How did the appointment go?” Wolfwood eventually asks, moving up to settle beside Vash. “Did Brad ask about—”

“The feathers,” Vash nods and sighs quite dramatically. “It was going so well, too, but then I sneezed and everything just,” he lifted up both his hands and spread his fingers, metal and flesh flexing wide, “Exploded?”

“Exploded?” Wolfwood can’t help but laugh. “Our child is already a menace, I can't believe it.”

One morning Vash had awoken to small, downy feathers attempting to sprout from his shoulders and forearm—the last time that happened, any time that happened, actually, was when they—

Well. Vash definitely didn’t relay that information to Brad, but he didn’t try to hide any of his bodily changes when he went for his most recent checkup. 

Luida suspected it had something to do with the pregnancy—that energy, a life, now being constantly generated from within him. He was bound to have some… interesting side effects.

“I couldn’t believe it,” Vash says after a moment. “You should’ve seen the look on Brad's face when it happened though, or the room,” he pauses and glances at Wolfwood with a smile. “Completely covered in feathers.”

Wolfwood snakes an arm across Vash’s chest, moving to rest his head on his shoulder. “Bet he loved that,” he closes his eyes. “Glad everything went smoothly, blondie. I should be able to come next time.”

Vash turns his head and presses a kiss to Wolfwood’s hair. “Luida would like that. She’s been dying to see you again, you know.”

“More like dying to have someone help out around the ship,” Wolfwood sighs, but there’s no malice in his tone. “Say, next time we visit…” he lowers his hand down Vash’s chest, stopping pointedly at his stomach. “They’ll be able to tell us what the little sprout is, yeah?”

Vash’s small intake of breath doesn’t go by unnoticed and it causes Wolfwood to sit up, getting a better look at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Well—” Vash starts to say, but closes his mouth promptly. 

“Wait,” Wolfwood reaches over to the side of the bed and suddenly the room is illuminated by the warm glow from the lamp. “Vash, don’t tell me you—” he glances back over at him and studies his face for a moment in silence. Vash desperately wishes Wolfwood wasn’t so damn good at reading him for once. 

“You already know, don’t you?” 

Vash groans and brings a hand up to his face. “It was an accident, Luida brought it up before I could stop her. I’m so sorry, Nick.” 

Wolfwood exhales and slumps back against the pillows. “Unbelievable.”

Vash attempts to roll over to face him, being on his back for so long starting to become a bit uncomfortable. “Nick?”

Silence. 

“Nicholas,” Vash pouts—he definitely has no right to do so, but he can’t help it. “I can just tell you, would that make it better?”

“No,” Wolfwood sighs. “I still want it to be a surprise.”

“I can act surprised when she tells us!” Vash says with enthusiasm. Wolfwood gives him a withering look. “No? Okay, okay,” he frowns, “it was worth a shot, though.”

“You are a complete needle-noggin idiot, you know that?” Wolfwood reaches over to flick Vash’s head. “And… it’s all right, don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” Wolfwood stresses the fact with a poke to Vash’s cheek. “I can wait a few more weeks. You better not bring it up on accident, though, or else—”

“I won’t! I promise, scout’s honor!”

 .

 Wolfwood is a lazy kisser—Vash used to tease him for it, but it wasn’t as though he was much better—or had any practice.

And they really did have the time now for these sorts of things.

He sighs as Wolfwood peppers a trail of kisses up his chest, taking his time with each scar and meld of flesh and metal his lips come past. 

“Nicholas,” Vash’s voice is light, full of warmth. “I thought you said— oh!”

Wolfwood captured his mouth with ease, stopping whatever teasing comment that was about to be said. 

His lips are chapped, but still somehow soft, warm—Vash has half a mind to point that out, but Wolfwood won’t allow it with the way his mouth is working. 

Vash gives in and sighs into the kiss, tugs him closer, prosthetic fingers raking through Wolfwood’s hair. It’s enough of an incentive to keep going, by any means. 

Even if there is shouting outside the inn bedroom’s window, or the ringing of a few gunshots sounding off in the lingering desert air. 

Vash breaks the kiss to turn his head, ignoring how Wolfwood sets his aim for his throat.

“Should we go—mmh,” Vash tries to suppress a moan, unsuccessfully, “check that out?” 

Wolfwood pauses, lips lingering near Vash’s collarbone. “During the middle of this?” 

He has a point. 

And to further express said point, Wolfwood slowly rocks his hips along Vash’s thighs.

“You’re right,” and Vash can’t believe he’s saying it with a smile on his face, one that Wolfwood can’t see from this angle, but knows that the man can feel. 

The whole room is lighting up, after all.

“It can wait,” Vash decides, and Wolfwood takes him.

 .

 One minute of silence passes between them, and then two. 

“Okay, I can’t do this,” Wolfwood rolls over to face Vash. “’M not going to be able to sleep unless I know.”

Vash is unable to restrain himself from laughing. “Really? Surely there’s something in your good book about rewarding patience.”

“Always be humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love,” Wolfwood recalls the passage in a low voice. “I think I’ve been pretty gentle lately, all things considered.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Vash agrees, amused. “Not so humble, though. Might need some brushing up on that.”

Wolfwood slides a bit closer to Vash. “Good thing we’ll have some down time for the next couple of months then—I could use some practice.”

“I happen to know an excellent teacher,” Vash says. He feels Wolfwood snake an arm across underneath the blankets, reaching for his shoulder to pull Vash in an embrace. 

“If you say Brad, I swear to fucking God—”

Vash’s huff of laughter is the only response Wolfwood gets before a pale hand beckons him closer. 

Even in the now-quiet of the room, Vash’s whisper to his ear is perhaps the softest thing Wolfwood has heard in a very long time. 

He can’t help his too sudden reply, his own voice on the verge of cracking. “Really?”

Vash nods. “Yes, really.”

And if Wolfwood hid his face in the crook of Vash’s neck, eyes filled with a dampness that threatened to spill over and unable to say anything else except a murmured ‘thank you’—

It was enough. 

[marirph]

𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃, 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃, 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 ! ♱ ⁺ .  ⋆ ˙ * a roleplay prompt comprising of several lyrics taken from my gothic rock, death rock, and dark wave playlist. pronouns can be adjusted accordingly !

warnings for the following subjects: death, blood, violence, profanity, religion, suggestiveness, and other sensitive subjects.

i’d cry if i thought it could change your mind.

you were running out of time.

i’ve never tasted glory.

i resented you.

i am to be your death, my love.

is it peace of mind you want?

you have no choice.

why can’t they see they’re just like me?

i could never put it into words what it is you mean to me.

he’s come to take me home.

follow me into the night.

i made my sacrifice. did i not give my all to you?

some of them want to use you.

i’m sorry. i don’t want to ruin myself.

the dead are on their way to nowhere.

this nightmare now has just begun.

i’ll show you things you won’t forget.

tell me it’s not too late.

no, my love, we can’t be friends.

it’s not easy to surrender, i know.

i’ll give you what you want. it will be alright.

i’ve always been in your shadow.

this isn’t about right or wrong now.

you told me that you always told me the truth.

you stabbed me in the chest and then spat in my face.

maybe just one more dance.

what’s it gonna be for me and you?

let’s talk about the way you make me feel and i’ll try this time to make it fucking real.

there’s no escape.

your feelings never got in the way.

you made me feel like mortal sin.

i will never be as cold as you.

your soul is for me.

open your eyes and see me.

that is so cliche.

still, you’re busy placing the blame.

i cry for the girl i hoped you to be.

it’s obvious you hate me though i’ve done nothing wrong.

the words you meant to tell will never be.

i like you better dead than alive.

the gun’s empty. there’s nothing you can do.

this is how you pay us back?

you look like a vampire ready for the slaughter.

you don’t do nothing to respect our wishes.

i’ll give you all that i haven’t given before.

take me to where this night will never end.

i’m offering you all the secrets i’ve been hiding until now.

kiss me like i’ve never been kissed before.

i don’t live in luxury. i could never have your life.

how about i tell it straight?

their deadliest weapon is the art of surprise.

i’ve never even met you, so what could i have done?

you better watch out.

tell me: when did you become a motherfucker and how has it served you in life?

the government’s doing nothing; it's a fucking disgrace!

it gives you quick relief.

you’re a creature of destruction.

help me hurt you.

i want to see worlds through your skull.

your name’s like ice into my heart.

can no one save you?

everything’s as cold as silence.

it is cozy to die.

i want to look it in the eyes.

she thanks you kindly.

tell her she can have it all.

someday you won’t be so afraid.

don’t give it away.

it's cute in a way ‘til you cannot speak.

it’s only just a crush. it’ll go away.

i ain’t got time for what you feel.

pierce right through me.

i can’t stop. it’s too late.

please don’t ask where i’ve been.

... can’t you understand?

you can pray it all away but it continues to grow.

she looked into my eyes and her voice said run.

i’m a mess, but it’s alright.

i thought it was my destiny.

all i ever needed is here in my arms.

vows are spoken to be broken.

i want to fucking tear you apart.

feelings are intense and words are trivial.

mother says today’s a special day.

let’s not fight, okay?

you can hurt me. do you whatever you like.

you look so absurd, you look so obscene.

money’s scarce, but family honor brings it home.

innocence and lies don’t make a perfect match.

i think i have to reconsider.

it was painful. it was worth it.

i look to you and how you carry on, even when all hope is gone.

i want relief tonight.

i’ll drink to that.

i’m free of all the lunacy. i never want it back.

the hunt is not the thrill i’m after.

heed the call. the time has come.

everything that breathes has to die.

you know it doesn’t mind how much you need them alive.

to love is to lose.

i’ll show you faces and places that'll make you terrified to be alive.

you treat me like a dog.

i haven’t slept in days.

look in a dustbin for something to eat.

i dare you to take another bite of it.

i should have paid closer attention, but i didn’t bother reading the signs.

you and i get along so awfully.

i hear her voice calling my home.

way back when, it was the laws of nature, no “god told him.”

i dreamed what it’d be like to have you in my bed.

i know that you never loved me. i know that you never cared at all.

the pain and the pleasure could do mortals in.

how could you know what i’m thinking of?

untainted passion should have no control.

i can’t understand what makes a man hate another man.

she collapsed to the floor and was dead in an hour.

you worry too much. you make yourself sad.

enjoy it while you can.

can god really be so bored?

why can’t i live a life for me?

there’s a full moon in the sky.

we’ve only got so many tricks.

who am i to disagree?

it's the hour of the wolf and i don’t want to die.

you think you’ve got it rough?

the hunt is not the thrill i’m after.

no one beats him at his game.

she’s pretty and i like her but she’s too well.

it's never hard to tell when things are done.

who cares there’s no place safe to hide?

celebrate while you still can.

why make your life a living hell?

i no longer know your name.

your blood belongs to him.

heaven betrayed you, didn’t it?

they said her soul could not be saved.

wake up, please. open your eyes.

it's not that it’s my fault, it’s just my style.

the victims have been bled.

i’m running towards nothing again.

blessed are those who spread the word, and damn the few who refuse to choose.

reach out and touch faith.

can you feel my aggravation?

you’re dying, slowly, solely for me.

where’s your savior?

i think their lives must have been deceived.

i have given up hiding.

why are you dressed like it’s halloween?

i don’t think i need to tell you.

i will always wonder how it could of been if i only lied.

never again is what you swore the time before.

you want to die?

all or nothing, it’s written in blood

i’m on my knees. i beg your mercy.

i found his last picture in the ashes of the fire.

one more day like today and i’ll kill you.

will you forsake things you never should?

some day you won’t be so afraid.

you could take these lifeless hands into yours.

we will be apart no more.

come on. i’m talking to you.

i hope we live to tell the tale.

you shouldn’t have to sell your soul.

they gave you life and in return you gave them hell.

i’d really love to break your heart.

i’m relying on your common decency.

i’ll make you a believer.

i’m so glad you remembered.

no street can bring us home.

i’ve bled for you.

blind to beauty and blind to love, we fear our loving lord above.

i’m the giver of tainted mercy and the bringer of eternal life.

by dawn tomorrow, i’ll burn alive.

there’s nothing left behind your eyes.

i’m looking through your window.

living ain’t easy. living ain’t clean.

it makes no sense. it makes no sense at all.

i must fight this sickness.

entrance me. devour me.

i need someone to help me rise above.

the storm outside is raging still.

this does not belong to you.

do you want to go with me?

our clan’s blood will not stop forever.

churches should be here.

i guess there are some things that you can never erase.

five more minutes and we’ll all be dead.

open your mouth and accept it.

i can find excuses for all my shit.

kill the king with love is the law.

i bled all i can. i won’t bleed no more.

you have something to hide.

purity doesn’t come naturally.

i think i’m falling in love with you.

i see you trying to be a martyr.

convince yourself you are christ himself.

rest. you’ve done your best.

you’ve become their church.

a look can say a lot sometimes.

i don’t give a fuck about the past.

the flesh is willing, but the spirit is weak.

no one’s aware of the hunger i feel.

eternal bliss is something i can show you.

we pay a price for all our choices made.

you’ve tried your best to be blessed, but you never will be.

i fear our loving lord above.

i trust that when we meet, you will forgive us.

i promise that this is forever or until one of us dies.

don’t get too attached.

it makes me feel just plain obscene.

i’ll take you down in the name of love.

you better watch your back.

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Lasso of truth! Byakuya, what are your favorite things about everyone?

Gugh...Alright fine...

I've always been rather envious of Makoto's tenacity and his unwillingness to give up even in the bleakest of times. It feels like the one thing he could do that I could not, and I don't know if I'll ever match it. Kyoko is one of few people who I think can match me in intellect and observation. Even back when we first met, I did always think she was cunning. Dangerously so, in fact.

Hina has an enviable passion, and it stuns me how she can both be so upbeat and positive, but also knows her limits and is realistic when she needs to be. She doesn't live in her own fantasy like most people and is serious about everything she does.

Hiro...Geh...I suppose I can compliment Hiro on trying to get out of his diseased mindset of money and scamming, as well as how he's strong for his friends and family. Other than that, that man unfortunately doesn't have many redeeming qualities.

I don't keep it a secret that I've never been really fond of Toko. However, since she joined up with Komaru and got off my back a little, I came to respect her more as a person. Especially as of late, when she's trying to keep everyone together despite how it's weighing on her too.

Sayaka has a near unshakeable willpower and a strong dedication to fix everyone's problems and right her own wrongs. Even though her past weighs heavily on her, she remains standing. Leon isn't the brightest bulb in the box, but he's capable and strong. He's not the slacker everyone thinks he is. Give him a task, and he'll do whatever his limits allow him.

Chihiro's intellect and digital smarts have gotten us out of scrapes more times than I can count on my hands. Honestly, had it not been for him, we would have lost to Junko a long time ago...And I admit, it makes me feel...indifferent about what I did to his body during the Killing Game.

Mondo is an oaf, there's no denying that, but he cares greatly about his friends and would do anything to protect them and make them happy. And that includes me. We definitely have issues with each other, but we can still make a decent team. Taka's actions don't always go the way he wants, but his heart is always in the right place with everything he says and does. Though his rants about effort get a little tiresome after a while, nothing he says is really wrong. If you're going to advocate a message, there are worse things to stand by.

Hifumi...as strange as his practices are to me, I admire his passion and creativity. His talents and his eye for detail are not wasted on him.

Sakura's strength is obviously something to be admired. But not only her literal strength, but her strength of heart as well. Back in the day, I could not fathom the idea that someone would be willing to take their own life for the sake of protecting the bonds between her friends. I severely underestimated her, and regret my assumptions even to this day.

And Mukuro...The decision to bring her back to life was not an ill one like we thought. Having someone like her on our side made our jobs at the Future Foundation so much easier...and it made me reconsider where the line between Hope and Despair really lies. I wouldn't have learned that if not for her, and I hope she's resting peacefully now, wherever she ended up.

[rhazimpulsivelyposts]

I can tell I like my job and care about it because now that hours are removed , like set start and stop times, I just use my job as a hobby and continue working because it gets me out of the house and keeps me busy.

At my last job I would start packing up at 3:45pm and at 4pm I was clocked out on the dot , out the door , fcking byeeee

And maaaan if tickets weren’t involved? Just like here is a checklist, you have this long to get it done . What are even hours man? Like I could explore the city during the day part and then work for how ever long at night , shower , go to bed, explore some more. Day shift night shift when ever weather is nicest shift. I mean within reason I’m sure and if other people will be onsite and stuff or if I need advice probably wanna ask it during the day or what ever. Work 3 hours > explore > come back work another 5 or so ? Work 10 one day and get a tattoo the next day? I know I’ll get the work done too, like I’m not the type to fck off because I actually like what I do and I would never allow myself to slip enough for receipts to make me look bad. I take pride in the work I do, because it feeds my ego to be better at my job than others 🤣 😈 I have a big ego. Hard working , attention to detail, sexy as fck ego . But it’s because I can walk the walk and not just talking a big game. I show up and show motherfcking out btch .

Every retail job I worked they let me get away with so much sht because I did the job and I did the job well. Proctor & Gamble was going to fire me for testing positive for THC and it had to go through 3 levels of management and they kept me because I was so good at the job. Office Max , Sams Club, and Starbucks used to let me have my phone out and be snacking and eating . All the time I had stuff in my mouth unless I knew I would be talking to customers . “Does she have headphones in?” Yep , because as long as you do the job well and give them nothing to complain about, you get to be special 🥰 and have special rules . In retail at least. I stood my ground with my “good luck replacing me” and they never could if they tried 🤣

even my last job said they would welcome me back with open arms after I told the managers the place was a drowning shit show and they don’t respect their workers. I keep it real because I know I can find another job in a week if I wanted to. I don’t NEED anyone, but I am thankful for the people and jobs that actually treat me how I feel I deserve. And I’m thankful for people in my life who take chances on me and take time and effort to help me with things . Always be growing :)

Even managers who had something against me, could never knit-pick my work because I do a good job, and when I get criticism I take it with an understanding want to improve so that they can’t find anything wrong with my work and my work ethic 🤣 it’s called ~ anxiety ~ and if I appeal to my anxiety and do what it tells me, it later feeds my ego when I can’t get in trouble because I did all the things right. Protecting myself.

I had a team lead try to get me fired over weird beef we had outside of work, by going to managers about my social media. I didn’t fight for my job I said “ look if you have to fire me over that I get it” , not only did they not fire me, never make me sign a write up, but the team lead btch quit 🤣🤣 oops did your plan backfire? When she left and was saying bye to everyone , I shook her hand and said “ I’m sorry things had to go down that way, I hope someone at your next job is just as pathetic as you are and tries to get you fired” 🤣🤣 the tech boys stood up in their Cubes like 👀 . Don’t fck with me.

When I left Proctor & Gamble because my contractor contact was an asshole, I told the higher ups that I was tired of always feeling like he could get me fired and they were all shocked because they liked me more than they cared about him knit-picking my work. 🤣 two different companies in that chain begged me to reconsider and stay and I was so over working with that older Indian man who always second guessed me and talked down to me that I said “sorry it’s a no for me dawg” if he’s my contact or my equal or my supervisor or what ever he thinks he is to me, I’m not working here. I don’t take disrespect. Actual structured criticism with proof , delivered in a respectful way, I’m all ears baby. I’ll take the advice and try to implement it or ask questions but you wanna talk down to me like I’m stupid? Nah. I’m your equal, and if I’m not your equal you better be raising me up to be your equal emotionally and intellectually. Teach me don’t just tell me I’m wrong. Teach me nicely don’t just bark at me. When I teach people I’m nice and thorough and understanding. I respect people. Until they disrespect me. Treat people how you want to be treated.

[rhysdasiorarchive]

As selfish as it likely was, Rhys was relieved to hear that all discussions pertaining to Hell would be limited. Or, rather, non-existent. Seth had suffered enough having to endure it in the first place and the last thing Rhys wanted to do was force him to relive it to satiate his own morbid curiosity. “‘least it’s the last you’ll be seeing of it. So long as you don’t fuck around again–” fixing Seth with a momentarily stern look from across the table, Rhys flashed a bright smile at him a second later to prove there were no lingering hard feelings. “–it’s all good.” Seth’s smile across the table was reassuring until it wasn’t and the inevitable topic rose its head at a speed that Rhys was wholly unprepared for. Taking a generous sip from his glass to buy himself some extra time, Rhys glanced off to the side, his gaze falling to the floor as he hummed in thought, his expression mirroring that of a kicked puppy until he pulled himself back together, glancing back at Seth with a nauseatingly polite smile, the kind typically reserved for all the exhausting coven-related soirées he was obligated to attend back in London. “Roland and I decided to be mature adults for once; had some things to talk through, had some different perspectives to consider. Things aren’t back to what they used to be, not yet. I’m giving him one last chance not to fuck things up.” Setting his glass down on the table, Rhys reached for his cigarette case and plucked one out, chucking it on the table towards Seth in silent offering as he lit it with his free hand, exhaling a plume of smoke as he shifted in his seat to get a little more comfortable if they were going to delve into the ever-complicated subject of Roland. 

“He came to see me the night after you told me you didn’t have long left. He’d been trying to win me back for a while, I’d had gifts and all sorts delivered to the office and my suite. Still haven’t opened half of them, most of ‘em are still piled high in the corner of my study until I’m ready. It all felt too raw to inspect anything closer. I’m rambling, though. He came to see me, explained himself properly and gave me a fair few things to reconsider. We’re working on rebuilding things now. Slowly. I’m making him work for it, so don’t give me any kind of look for it. He was nothing but truthful with his groveling; I made sure of it, checked throughout all his speeches to make sure he wasn’t bullshitting me. Wasn’t a trace of a lie, not even once. He meant every word of it. He explained that he’d done what he’d done out of fear, out of a reluctance to put himself through emotional turmoil again.” Taking a much-needed drag from his cigarette, Rhys rested it between his lips as he wriggled out of his blazer, throwing it over the back of his seat before he settled back into place. “He’d realised he was in love with me–” the emphasis was accompanied by a theatrical widening of Rhys’ eyes, his smile widening as he repressed a laugh. “–the night everything went wrong. When he realised, he’d panicked and resorted to cutting contact to try and convince himself he didn’t have feelings for me. It’s shitty, yeah, but I kinda get it. Was it selfish? Entirely self-serving? Yeah, absolutely. But it was never malicious. We’ve talked about it, talked it through for hours, and now we’re both in agreement that if he pulls that shit with me again, he’s as good as gone. You've got nothing to worry about. Trust me."

"All right well if you insist," Seth replied, smiling after Rhys as he waited for his drink to be handed to him. Once he had his vodka soda he met the other witch at the table and sat across from him, raising his glass in return and smirking as he sipped it. "Probably best. It wasn't a vacation, I'll tell you that." He chose to leave the topic of Hell there since it wasn't something he wanted to delve into. The most important thing was that he was back and... adjusting back into a sense of normalcy after a decade. "We certainly do," he said, folding his hands in front of him on the table and smiling sweetly at Rhys. "How about we start with what the fuck are you doing with Rolando again?"