#its just . the thing when the character whos never shown smiling finally does . its that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

windwheeler-aster · 3 years ago

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hello, headcannons + blurbs with zhongli, kaeya, diluc, childe and itto ( if its too much you could reduce some but let zhongli and kaeya stay :3 ) reacting to s/o who never nosebleed, finally does when they see them men being sexy? its a little suggestive i guess. thank you :)

what? see something you like?

summary: you don’t fluster easily, and when you do, it’s always been something manageable. well, that’s what you had thought at least. now you’re struggling to cover up the mess your nosebleed has made, knowing full well that when your boyfriend sees you like this; you’ll never hear the end of it.

masterlist

pairings (separate): zhongli, kaeya, diluc, and childe x reader

reader info: uses gender neutral pronouns (they/them), reader is in an established relationship with characters mentioned, reader gets nosebleeds when they are badly flustered, and reader is not traveler.

word count: 3,231 words

genre: romance, suggestive, (slight) comfort

format: headcanons and blurbs

warnings: suggestive language and behavior, reader gets a nosebleed, blood mentioned, exaggerated/anime-like nosebleed, cliffhanger/suggestive endings, (brief) funeral and death mentions, kaeya being told to “cover up,” brief mentions of violence almost happening, teasing, and things escalating quickly

a/n: sadly i couldn’t think of anything for itto :( maybe in the future i could continue this with him and a few other characters? i assumed tight and well fitted clothing is something everyone finds sexy so... enjoy💖 no songs for this because, um,, i don’t actually know a lot of suggestive songs-

there was an upcoming business conference that zhongli and hu tao had to attend in the name of wangsheng funeral parlor

hu tao requested him to dress nicely, as she wants to leave a good impression on her (potential) trading partners

he was a little offended that hu tao thought his normal suit wouldn’t do the job, but he followed her request

zhongli had rented a nice brown suit a little too tight around his chest and bottom if you asked him though

he brought it home to try on after having it tailored, as the last thing he needed was it to still be ill fitted still

zhongli had no idea that you’d be coming home just as he was finishing buttoning up the undercoat

he wasn’t displeased though, it would be best to get your opinion on it anyway

in comes your love, strolling slowly as he adjusts the tie around his collar

he doesn’t even look up to see your flustered expression, too fixated on that damn tie

when zhongli doesn’t get a response immediately, he finally looks up to see you

[more under the cut]

“My dear, is everything alright?”

You shake your head quickly, trying to tear your eyes off of his body. Although that seemed near impossible with the way his suit hugged his chest so tightly. The sight was enough to get you salivating as you gazed on. After all, you couldn’t help that his prominent breasts were being so well shown off. Quietly, you were thanking Hu Tao for this.

When you looked away from his chest, you realized Zhongli’s expression had softened. His pupils dilated, fading into his dark brown irises quickly. Somehow, they managed to capture as much of your attention as his chest had.

“Yes,” you breathed out, “everything’s fine, Zhongli. H-how… how was your day?”

“My day was good, love,” He smiled softly, adjusting the cuff links to his undershirt. “As you can see, I got a new suit for my business trip.”

“Y-you look great,”

“Thank you, my dear,” Zhongli posed suavely, trying his best not to tilt his head upwards in pride. “Although, it’s only the front. Could you confirm it looks good from other angles?”

You missed the way his warm eyes crinkled at the end, a cheeky smile hidden from you as he turned around. Zhongli knew this would fluster you. It’s the exact reason why he picked this suit out, actually. His efforts of getting you so flustered had finally paid off, and he too was quietly thanking Hu Tao.

The front view of his suit was a sight you needed to see after such a long day. But the back view? Your entire face felt uncomfortably warm as you stared at Zhongli’s bottom. You brought a hand up to your mouth to stop you from gasping or emitting a worse sound. It was only then, with your knuckle in between your lips, did you feel the blood trickling down.

You gently brought your hands over your nose and mouth, caging them in. It proved to be difficult, actually, with the fountain of blood that sprouted from your nose. You murmured a complaint to yourself as you looked for some sort of cloth or tissue, desperate for Zhongli not to see.

“Dear?”

“Sorry, Zhongli,” you murmured. You changed your hands’ placement so that one was now pinching the end of your nose. “You look great, as always, love.”

He smiled and tilted his head upwards in pride, but quickly lowered it to stay humble. “Why thank you, how kind of you to say. You look lovely today as well, dear.”

You glanced over to him, just as Zhongli side eyed you over his shoulder. Which was, of course, the perfect moment for Zhongli to notice your slight injury.

He gasped. “Dearest, you’re bleeding.”

Zhongli walked over to you, gently pressing you up against the door. He used his gloved hands to cup your chin, tilting your head upwards. You tried to gulp down the extra saliva that seemed to have built up, but your throat was betraying you.

Zhongli gently brushed away the remnants of blood that you couldn’t clean up, not even grimacing when the blood soiled his gloves. His frown soon grew into a knowing smirk when he saw how quickly you got flustered.

“Oh, did I cause this?” He moved your chin to inspect your face, smirking wider as he did. “Did I… did I get you this riled up, my dearest?”

You froze up, too shocked at his playfulness. You couldn’t even give him a proper response like a nod of confirmation. All you could do was focus on his eyes, but even that was proving to be difficult.

“We can’t have you all flustered like this, dear,” he inched his lips closer to your ear, “I suppose I’ll just have to take care of it for you. Would you like that, dearest?”

after months of buttering up the fatui, kaeya was finally invited to a formal banquet at the goth grand hotel

it was a sweet victory for kaeya, and the rest of the knights of favonius

although kaeya was requested to wear something less revealing at the event which genuinely offended him and he barely managed to keep his cool

but his mission wasn’t over yet. he still had to get closer to them, so he had to obey their request, even if it ticked him off greatly

after all, he had spent months building a good relationship with the fatui. he wasn’t about to throw all of his effort away over some silly outfit

so, one suit fitting and purchase later, kaeya had a lovely striped blue suit ready for the banquet

and while he was trying on suit after suit, kaeya kept you at the forefront of his mind

more specifically what your expression would be when he showed off his new suit

he was practically grinning from ear to ear when he heard you get home, and he didn’t even hesitate to call your name a moment later

Something moved outside, causing Kaeya to focus on the sight outside instead of his reflection. He smiled when he recognized you waving from the path towards your shared home. Kaeya shyly waved back, not so covertly hiding his body behind the curtains as he did so. As much as he wanted to, Kaeya didn’t linger long to see your puzzled expression. Instead Kaeya slipped past the curtains and hurried downstairs.

You watched from the outside of your home as you saw a flurry of blue run past some windows, your concern for your partner growing. If his actions didn’t resemble that of a frantic bird, you would have laughed at the sight and teased him endlessly for it.

You opened the front door with a gentle turn, peaking your head through the crack first. Only the coat rack and welcome mat were there to greet you. There were no surprises or pranks that you could see, so you continued inside. As you closed the door, you heard a curse whispered and a gentle thud from the living room.

“Kaeya?” you called, slipping out of your shoes slowly. “Are you alright?”

An affirmative noise came from the living room.

Your feet carried you to Kaeya quickly. You looked around for him before you heard him clear his throat and look at the sound.

Draped across the couch with a rose clutched in between his teeth was Kaeya, who looked quite out of breath. Your eyes traveled across his new suit, noticing quickly he had it tailored to fit him nicely. The suit clung tightly onto his skin, giving you a glimpse at his well defined features. The buttons on the suit jacket looked like they were about to pop off with each rise and fall of Kaeya’s chest. Your eyes were about to slowly trail down the rest of his figure when Kaeya snapped his fingers.

“Hey, hey, eyes up here darling,” Kaeya teased, letting the rose fall out of his mouth.

His flirtatious tone got to you, easily bringing heat to your cheeks. Before you knew it, you felt something wet trail down from your nose and onto your upper lip. Quickly, you turned around and covered your nose with one hand. The last thing you needed was for Kaeya to realize what was happening. You could already hear the teasing from him as you desperately searched for a tissue.

“Darling?” you heard him shift on the couch. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No,” you winced at how your voice cracked when you answered so quickly, “nothing’s wrong, I’m just a bit flustered.”

“Oh, really? Show me how flustered you are then, darling.”

With a new wave of Keaye’s suggestive words, your nose squirted out blood like a fountain with water. You brought your other hand over your nose quickly, silently screaming at Kaeya. Either he could see your reaction and was amused by it, or he truly was just smooth with his words.

“Stop teasing me, you’re making it worse,”

“Making what worse?” Kaeya raised his eyebrows. “Oh darling, are you really down that bad for me? Have I not been paying enough attention to-”

“No, just,” you fumbled over your words, trying to decide what to say next. “Here, just look.”

You turned around and removed your hands from your nose. You watched as Kaeya’s cocky expression turned quickly into shock. He sat upright on the couch, reaching over to the side table for a tissue.

“Here, let me clean you up,” he offered, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

Careful not to drip any blood on the couch, you sat beside him. Kaeya was quick to close the distance between you two, pulling you much closer to him. He chuckled as he began to wipe away the blood, tilting your chin in different directions.

“I had no idea I had this effect on you, darling,” he said, his tone a mixture of teasing and worry, but still making your cheeks warm. “And to think you only saw me fully clothed as well… It makes me curious what type of reaction I can get out of you without them.” Kaeya leaned in close to your ear, “would you like to find out together?”

diluc enjoys his suit and coat as they are, however he does like to dress less casual when it’s just the two of you in dawn winery

but it hardly is just the two of you alone, so he still wears it around the house

except he adjusts his tie so it hangs loosely around his neck, and move his arms out of his overcoat and drape it over his shoulders

it gives him this slightly haggard look, however diluc still manages to pull it off

however, on one very stormy afternoon, diluc and you find yourself to be the only ones at home

which is just perfect for diluc, who had a lovely black turtleneck stowed away for afternoons like these

he was looking forward to spending a calm afternoon with you, maybe taking the opportunity to catch up and make up for lost time and affection (no thanks to his very busy schedule)

until he noticed the blood leaking from your nose after just catching one glimpse of him

“I managed to convince Adeline to go home early,” Diluc announced as he entered the room, “I swear, she worries too much. I’m a grown man, for archons’ sake, I can take care of myself and you.”

As you glanced over your shoulder, ready to tease him relentlessly, you froze.

Diluc wasn't wearing his usual coat. In fact, he was dressing many layers lighter today. He wore a simple black turtleneck and some brown trousers, styling his hair in a nice high ponytail. You couldn’t stop yourself as your eyes raked over him, nor the way you tried so hard to memorize this sight. Somehow the nonchalant look he cast over his shoulder as he adjusted his signature gloves made your mind fuzzy and your heart speed up.

You hadn’t even noticed the blood spurting from your nose until it had propelled you back onto the couch. The soft thump that followed after gained Diluc’s attention, bringing him to your side immediately.

He couldn’t help but gasp. “Love, you’re bleeding.”

“S’all right,” you mumbled, “you caught me off guard, s’all good.”

Diluc gently put his hand on your cheek, furrowing his brow as he did. While rubbing your cheekbone with his thumb, Diluc grabbed a nearby tissue and brought it to your face. Carefully, he wiped off as much of the blood as he could. As he did so, he gently caressed your cheek and gave you an overwhelmingly sweet and loving gaze.

“Did I startle you that much?” He looked you in the eye and frowned. “I thought you’d be used to me by now, love.”

“Honey, have you taken a look at yourself lately?”

“No, why?” His frown deepened. “Do you not like it when I dress more casually?”

“No, no, I really like it actually,” you reassure.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you added in a low mumble, “you look really hot, actually.”

Diluc smirked, obviously having heard your words in this close proximity. “Oh? Is that why you had such an intense nose bleed just now?”

You nodded simply as Diluc moved his hand from your cheek to your chin, tilting your head upwards to look at him. Diluc smirked down at you, his eyes darting from place to place on your body. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind and desendended onto your neck.

“Look at you, getting so flustered from just the slightest of my touches,” he teased as he peppered kisses along your jaw and neck. “It seems I haven’t been giving my love enough attention lately. Please let me make up for lost time, my love. Let me show you how much I love you, how much I crave you, please.”

there is no special occasion. there is no big event. and there is no obvious reason on why childe has sported a tight and sleeveless black turtleneck

other than to fluster you, of course

childe has been feeling quite starved of your touch as a late, a consequence of working for the fatui

so he took the day off, which will be a wonderful surprise for you once he wakes you

as he makes breakfast, childe is having a field day imaging your flustered reaction

he lets a few chuckles tumble past his lips, having to bite one of his knuckles to silence himself

a few moments later and he was creeping into your shared bedroom, a lovely breakfast tray in hand

he set it down on the bedside table for a moment and carefully knlet down to wake you with a kiss

out of all the reactions he planned out in his head, childe DID NOT expect you to glance at him once and then begin to spew blood

"Darling,” he sang in a mischievous tone, as he pushed the bedroom door open, “it’s time to wake up, sweetheart.”

You turned over in the bed, facing away from Childe, pulling the blankets over your face. The blankets soon proved to be useless, easily allowing his pet names for you to break through.

“Mm,” you groaned, nuzzling your head further into the bed, “five more minutes.”

Childe chuckled, setting the breakfast tray onto the side table. His own mouth watered at the smell of all the food piled onto it, a mixture of Snezhayian and Liyue food. It was all warm, fresh out of the pan with the steam still coming off of it. There was plenty of food piled onto it for both you and him, but Childe had already eaten. He wanted more than anything to just sit down and watch you eat breakfast in bed.

He glanced away from the nightstand, smirking at you, a lump under the covers. Childe let out a chuckle as he leaned over, gently placing some of his weight onto you. He let some chuckles escape once you had begun to squirm then finally settle.

“My darling dearest, my sugar plum, my honeysuckle, my cutie pie—” Childe stopped once he heard you groan again. He smirked. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Do not try this with me, Childe,” you mumbled.

“What? I’m just addressing you,” he leaned back, onto his pillow. “Would you rather I call you by your full title?”

You open your eyes, only to roll them at him from beneath the blankets. “All your lovey dovey petnames for me smashed together is not a title.”

Childe looked over to you, still beneath the blankets, and then slowly back to the bedroom’s ceiling. “I made you breakfast.”

“Really?”

“Yep,”

You shift beneath the blankets. “Is the world ending?”

“Y’know, I can do nice things for you, too,” Childe mumbled, “It’s not that surprising, is it?”

“What's surprising is that I don’t smell smoke,” you push yourself out, looking over to your side first. “Okay, so where’s this grand romantic ges- Oh.”

Childe looked over to you, who had now fully emerged from the blanket cocoon. Your eyes were practically glued to his chest, a feeling that made him both filled with pride and embarrassment. All he wore was a simple sleeveless turtleneck, a gift from his siblings to cool down in Liyue. Yet your reaction made it seem as though Childe wore nothing at all, a sight that you had already seen.

“Hello, Teyvat to my sweetheart,” he teased, waving a hand in front of your eyes, “my eyes are up here, y’know.”

Those final words seemed to break you, blood spewing from your nose right after. Childe watched with terror as you flopped back over to your side of the bed. He watched you slap a hand over your face, wincing at the slapping sound it made. However, what you were doing seemed to be the most effective way of not staining the sheets.

And it was probably the cutest thing Childe has ever seen you do.

“Oh, sweetheart, don’t tell you get that flustered from just seeing a little skin,” Childe asked sincerely, reaching over to stroke your head. “I can already think of so many other things that could fluster you. Like—”

In one moment, you already had tissues shoved up your nose. Although it stung a little, and looked quite ridiculous, it reduced the bleeding. Which allowed you to focus on what to do next, which was to leap onto Childe.

“Shut up,” you huffed into his lips, “you are going to face the consequences of your actions, Ajax.”

He quirked one eyebrow, excited by the usage of his real name. “Consequences? I didn’t do a single thing, dear. It was all you and your perverted little mind—”

“Shut up,” you repeated, quickly straddling him, “I don’t want to hear anything from those pretty little lips until I’m done with you,” you pinned his hands together and above his head. “Understood?”

Childe’s eyes, usually dreary and without light, fucking sparkled. His lips twisted into a smile, small and turned all the way up. Nothing but cockiness and eagerness emitting from him. He missed these mornings with you.

“Understood,” he whispered, Childe’s voice weak as you squeeze his hips with your thighs. “Crystal clear.”

thank you for reading 💖 all forms of interaction to my posts are appreciated 💖

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pixxiepix · 2 years ago

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I have different fandoms but I'll go with KNY and Genshin Impact ( and one for Avatar twow lmao)

Tanjiro Kamado : Like??? You probably already know why, but the way he's so kind to people just stuck to me. However, he doesn't let anyone walk over the people he loves and is so determined to do anything to those he loves. plus hes adorable and one of my favorite mc haha marry me-

Akaza : You rengoku fans can kill me, but I just love his character. Yes, I know his actions will never ever be justified, but I love his respect and once I found out about his backstory, I cracked. Not to mention that he knew he lost to Tanjiro and Giyuu, and just accepted fate and did the job himself, giving a soft smile to the boy who defeated him. I'm just glad he was able to be with his one true love in the end. (Plus I dislike douma so-)

Genya Shinazugawa : Oh, how I absolutely love this boy. I understood completely why he was so boastful, just for his brother to accept him and forgive him for their past. He's so soft and I love his friendship with Tanjiro. His death and last words broke me, but I can be happy once I found out his afterlife with Sanemi was better than ever.

Kaeya Alberich : I hate and love this dude. His flirts do get on my nerves, but I can't help but feel flustered. He's so mysterious and when I found out he was canonically shy?? That just made me fall in love with him more <3 (Love you too diluc, don't worry)

Zhongli : Zhongli, Zhongli... oh how I wish you were real. The moment this man spoke, I almost fainted. Not because he has the same va as hawkmoth from the show I despise but because its so soothing... I just know he's husband material and his memory line made me sob. I love you so much, Zhongli <3

Aether : I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND HIS SISTER TOO- Ahem, also one of my favorite MCs. Totally not also because he shares the same english VA as Tanjiro- even if he doesn't really have a personality, I can tell the sass is there and I love the idea of him being the sun while Lumine is the moon. The only comission I have for him is to marry me-

Spider Soccoro : Skin me alive, do whatever, but I do not care that he saved Quaritch. It was completely understood on why he did it. This young boy for 15 years did not feel like he fit in with the Na'vi and the fact his father was the person who murdered so many of the people he wanted to fit in with did not make him feel better. Neytiri's trauma is definitely understandable, but it does not justify that she pushed it onto a kid of a man that even he hates himself. Not to mention the Sully family didn't really care (Only Kiri cause shes the real one). Jake knew that he was kidnapped and handed to the WORST people ever, yet he only worried that Spider was going to leak information, not about his safety, causing them to move somewhere else. Yet, Spider did not say anything at all. He was tortured, and even admitted that they would have to kill him, because he would not say anything to the people he's loyal to.

For months, Recom!Quaritch shown him more affection than the Sully's had for years. They bonded together, through their first Ikran and even when be was kidnapped. Quaritch could have killed the Metkayina's, yet he didn't all because Spuder begged him not to. Yes, he still burned down the huts which is obviously a vile thing to do, yet he didn't take a single life away. (Only an ilu, but I believe it was someone else who shot it.)

Onto the final battle, LYLE WAS THE ONE WHO SHOT NETEYAM. For the last time, get that in your head spider anti's. Forwarding, When Spider was about to get slashed to death by Neytiri, he didn't care and worried about Kiri, who was being held at gunpoint. At that moment, Kiri's life was more important than his own. Right when has was about to get stabbed, Quaricth panicked and screamed at Neytiri to stop, releasing Kiri all because was worried. Worried, guys. Spider saved him because he owed him for saving his life. No matter if that person killed someone, it's still murder and Spider could not live by that at all. He was neglected, and Spider is torn between two people.

All I want to do is hug that boy close to me, and tell him everything will be alright ♡

❗ YOU THERE! Yes, you scrolling tumblr! Hold right there!

Tell me, what made you fall in love with your favorite character?

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aquariusdeanw · 3 years ago

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The ending of monster is perfect.

(My thoughts on the finale, the series, Johan’s character; and why I think it fits so well)

Before watching the last episode I thought “oh it’s the finale they’re only gonna wrap things up and tie some loose ends” but it’s done beautifully.

I know that everyone says that monster is a show about humans and their inner monster and how society creates monsters, and I agree.

But when they show you that, it’s not a way to excuse people of their bad actions, it’s to show that even in their “villainous” acts, they’re still pretty much human, you never think “oh this is something that couldn’t happen in real life”.

Eva, Roberto, Rosso, Bonaparta and so many more, they’re so different from each other, but at the core they’re still painted in the same way. They’ve done despicable acts, some more than others, but in the end they’re just people who made their choices based on their beliefs.

As I said, all human.

All presented as human except for Johan.

While the writer tries and succeeds to humanize all the other characters, giving them many layers, he dehumanizes Johan from the very early episodes. Not only he attaches to him a very “supernatural” evil presence;

«you mustn’t look at him doctor, you’ll die» / «we were hired by a monster» (in the very early episodes)

«he said that he shot something with seven heads and many horns» (in the penultimate episode).

But also the way Johan is shown doing terrible things, is very “simplified”. In his scenes they don’t really dwell a lot on the why he does what he does. Sure, they give you enough insight to keep you interested in the character and to not make him bland. It’s the viewer that with the very few lines and appearances that he has, tries to decipher his personality and his motivations. And yeah, one of the reasons for the lack of his physical presence is to add to the sense of dread that fills the viewer when he really appears. However, during the journey that Tenma has, even if Johan is not physically there, his presence is. We feel it in the tales that fall from people’s mouths and the dead bodies that Tenma encounters and the hundreds of people he corrupted. And while Tenma meets these people the show always gives a glimpse of their humanity; but with Johan it’s the opposite, it seems that every tale about him it’s evil and eviler.

You keep asking yourself why? Why? Why?

Does this kid really feel nothing?

Is it because what happened at the orphanage? But in its destruction we see him smiling, delighted by the events that unfold in front of him. Why does he keep killing the people that show him the good in humanity, the people that treat him and his sister well? What kind of kid (that is already capable of orchestrating human feelings) kills people that helped him and tells his sister to shoot him in the head, with the calm of someone that’s asking the most trivial thing?

The most beautiful thing about Johan is the complete juxtaposition of his character. Yeah he doesn’t have any morals or ethicality, whether it is to accomplish something or just to mess with the psyche of a child,

(«you can’t kill a human being!» — tenma

«why not?» —johan)

but at the same time he feels emotions. He feels sadness, he feels rage, gratification, fear, guilt

(«I wonder if I had forgiven him from the beginning what would have happened» — Nina

«Johan are you crying for me?» — Karl

«While he was seeing the drawings of us as happy kids, he was crying just like me.» — Nina

«the thing I’m most afraid of is...forgetting Anna» — Johan

«Did she try to save me or did she confuse me for my sister?» — Johan)

For the whole series, Tenma’s ideology and Johan’s are (as we all know) in contrast. I won’t make a long post about Johan’s nihilistic view of the world, because there are already tons of them. But I’d like to say this: in one episode there is a scene that involves two characters that are neither Johan or Tenma; but it sums up Johan’s character very well. This guy says something along these lines to Lunge:

«you won’t believe that Tenma is not guilty, because all your life you have been an investigator that’s never been wrong, not once, and besides that you have nothing; no hobbies or family. If you’re wrong about this case, then you won’t know who you really are, and that would break you.»

That’s why johan kills people and wants Tenma to kill him.

If someone tries to give him a name he kills them, (he believes that his mother never gave him a name.) if someone is kind to him he kills them, (he has a nihilist view of the world), if someone tries to separate him from Anna, his other half, he kills them. («it’s just me and Anna in this whole world»)

Him being wrong would break him, and that’s why we see that desperate expression on his face when in the penultimate episode he almost begs Tenma to shoot him; because if what he believed all life is true (and to him it’s the truth because people kept demonstrating that he was right) “that not all lives are created equal”, then Tenma had to shoot him. Johan had no doubt in his mind, it was logical to him: even the most benevolent man, put in the right situation, can kill a person.

Tenma doesn’t shoot. He doesn’t kill him. Chance comes in play, and that’s something that even Johan couldn’t predict.

The finale gives you an answer to your “but WHY does he think the way he thinks!” question and as a viewer I find that very satisfying.

In the last episode we find ourself in a metaphorical mexican standoff of ideologies.

«Humans are equal only in death» Johan’s ideology, because if that wasn’t true, then why was his mother capable of making a choice between her two twins. Her children, that should be equal in the eyes of a mother. But when forced to make a decision, she choses one over the other, and what messes Johan up even more is that he doesn’t know if his mother choosing him was her choice or a mistake; but there certainly was an “unwanted child”. (as he puts it)

On the other side there is Tenma, that made one choice many years before, thinking it was a difficult, but fair one. A child over a privileged adult. The child that he saved though, was a monster, and he brought it back to life unknowingly of that fact. It caused the death of so many people. If Tenma had a time machine, would he save the kid again? Or would he just let him die?

There’s no need for a time machine, because the choice presents itself to him one more time. This time he knows the true nature of the person that he has to save. And he saves him. It’s hard, but he does it not only because it’s the right thing to do according to his ideology, but if he didn’t, he’d only prove Johan that he was right. It’d be like he had shot him himself.

That’s why he goes to Johan to prove him wrong once more, when he tells him that he does have a name, that his mother did give him a name.

Is it enough to convince Johan?

(Will he unlearn the hatred that humans are capable of, like Dieter? Will he accept that he has a name, like Nina did with hers? Does he, like Lunge, discover that the simple things in life do matter and are a part of why we live? Does he forget about what he was before, because like Eva says «we only remember the good things; because otherwise humans wouldn’t be able to keep on living»? Does he “turn human” again, discovering the peace that Grimmer found in his death?)

We don’t know.

We only know that the nameless monster isn’t there anymore.

It’s like he never existed in the first place.

#naoki urasawa's monster #the quotes are not 100% accurate I wrote them from memory and I watched the show a year ago #but the meaning behind them it’s the same #i wrote this at 3am #monster anime #manga anime #Tenma #johan liebert #nina fortner #my thoughts on the finale

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tokiloki · 3 years ago

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@inky-page Tumblr ate your ask I'm sorry but here you go. ❤️

💮 TR BOYS WITH A GIRLFRIEND WHO SPEAKS 4 LANGUAGES

🌸Characters : Rindou Haitani, Baji and Sanzu Haruchiyo.

🏵️Warnings/note : Fem reader/Second point of view (you, your) /Slight cursing. /Brief mention of drugs in Sanzu's part/ fluff/ slight crack/generally astonished boyfriends./ An au where all the manga pain doesn't exist/Canon divergence.

HARUCHIYO SANZU/ AKASHI::

-Your boyfriend was shocked when he found out. And honestly, he didn't find out in the best of ways.

- He was just lounging on the sofa while you took a shower, lazily flicking from channel to channel while waiting for you to come out.Thats when he heard what was one of the most terrible noises in his life, coming from the shower.

- He ran in panic as he heard you screech an impressive number of curses, some he didn't recognise as his language. He barged into the bathroom calling out your name, only to see you struggling with the shampoo stuck in your eyes. Screaming at everyone and everything.

"Y/N ARE YOU ALRIGHT?"

"HARU? DO I LOOK ALRIGHT?"

-He stood there for a hot minute, shocked at the number of different notes that flew from your mouth.

- Ignoring the situation, he simply leaned on the doorframe and asked about how many languages you spoke.

-You were going to kill him, no seriously because the shampoo in your eyes was doing wonders to your raging temper, only adding to the fuel.

"OOOH how interesting! How many languages do you speak Y/N darling? Do you attend classes or something?"

"HARUCHIYO SANZU, DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THE RIGHT TIME? IS IT THE RIGHT TIME HARUCHIYO?"

"You're right, you're right, stop staring at me like that calm down."

-Since that day onward, he asked you the most random questions to date.

"Y/N sweetheart, what do you call cocaine in (language)?"

"Babe I swear I never researched drug or gun names in my language courses, let me sleep it's 2 am."

------

"Y/N did the duolingo owl ever terrorise you into studying? Is that why you studied so many languages?"

"Haru shut the hell up before I go to sleep on the couch"

"You wouldn't"

"Keep talking and we'll see"

RINDOU HAITANI ::

-Honestly, you’re the one who told Rindou about your unique specialty , you admittedly actually hoped for some kind of astonishment, or amazement from your stoic boyfriend.

-Instead all you got from him was a cool shrug and a question of what languages you spoke, after that he just went back to scrolling absentmindedly on his phone.

-You knew Rindou wasn’t one for words, but still, it would’ve been nice if he showed a little enthusiasm -its not everyday someone speaking 4 languages appears. The thought crossed your mind before you could stop it.

Did he even care?

-It must’ve shown on your face because Rindou sighed, dropping his phone to the side and pulling you closer to his body, mumbling apologetic words, you squirmed, insisting you knew and that it didn’t hurt.

“Y/N I promise I care, you know how I am”

“Rin! No it’s alright, I know, don’t worry!”

-Your reaction didn’t satisfy him, even though you thought it did. In fact, you almost forgot the entirety of the tense incident, until a number of weeks later when it made it’s way back into your conversations.

-You two had been sitting on the couch, your head rested above his chest with his arm around your waist as you watched a boring movie. You were slowly slipping off into small bouts of sleep, eyes tired and head drowsy when you heard a quiet voice mumble.

“Y/N?

“What’s wrong Rin”

*in foreign language* “I love you Y/N, you know that right?”

“I love you too Rin-”

-Your eyes flew open in shock, tilting your head up to meet his dimmed violet eyes staring at you. He rarely ever commented on his love for you, but that wasn’t what shocked you, this time, he had commented in one of the languages you had thought he wouldn’t even recall.

“Hold on”

-You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, peering up at him again, his face was dusted with a light blush, one you could barely see in the dark room. He averted his gaze away, blush darkening as you stared up at him in shock. Finally you spoke.

“Since when...did you even learn...that?”

“A while ago dumbass”

“A while ago?”

“From when...from when you told me you could speak a bunch of languages, I just thought to take one up.”

-Rindou wouldn’t say anything else regarding it after that, resorting to intense focus on the movie onscreen, he wouldn’t tell you but the look of hurt that had flashed on your face when you told him had him sinking in guilt.

-He recalled the deep anxiety he found himself sinking into, thinking that you thought the worst of him. He wanted to show you that the 'I love you's' he murmured were truly heartfelt.

-Ran said he was being over dramatic, but Rindou had honestly found no other way to prove to himself and you that he cared for everything you did and said. The warmth that bloomed through his chest at your excited smile was worth every minute he had spent trying to learn a language to connect to you.

That night, Rindou was free of his worries, which had all been soothed by your smile.

BAJI KEISUKE ::

-Listen, he is proud of you. He thinks that you're deservedly the smart one in the relationship, maybe the one smart person he will sit and listen to all day.

-When he heard from a friend of yours that you spoke four languages he was genuinely amazed, exclaming to you later on just how amazing and impressive that was.

-You even slowly began to realise that he was picking up on common phrases you used, his eyes would gleam over with pride whenever you said a single word, instantly bookmarking it for another day.

-To someone else it might have seemed like Baji was the multilingual one, but no he was just hyping you up every minute he could.

-It actually ended up being helpful as you helped him with language studies, he thought your methods were better than the teachers anyways.

-Baji was always motivated to do better by you and his desire to keep his mother happy, so motivated he found himself studying voluntarily, shocking the Toman members so badly to the point that you actually received a frantic call from Mikey asking if you had drugged Baji.

-You regularly answered multiple random questions from him, most of them were things like 'alright how do you say you're beautiful?' only to repeat your words with a cheerful grin, making you laugh at his cheesy techniques.

-Baji, despite all his wholesome actions, was also the first person to ask you for every possible curse in every language you spoke, grinning enthusiastically as you nervously recited words you wished you didn't know.

-Actually Baji even learnt curses you didn't know existed, saying that he was "merely deepening his knowledge"

-But all in all, Baji loves you and all your 'random mumbo jumbo' as he calls it. He's never been so proud to love a girl before, and he apologises for all the random questions he cursed you with.

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

A/N : im sorry for how long this turned out. I got to Rindou and kinda got carried away, anyways first fic I hope you liked it! Reblogs and likes much appreciated 💖

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inkdemonapologist · 3 years ago

Photo

[BatIM Call of Cthulhu Masterpost]

nEW SESSION (summary here!), where there’s been an unexpected development to the music issue and its time to [checks my notes] taLK TO THE PROPHET AND BREAK INTO SUSIE’S APARTMENT??? Also, the Prophet and Joey have made.... a truce(???), Prophet is concerned Sammy isn’t going to stay on task now that music is returning and has left him a sort of alarming note, and Jack is uh, trying to hold, too many things, maybe some things he shouldn’t be holding, Jack please put those things back,

anyway heres a stack of out-of-context quotes from our session under the readmore:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Jack] My favourite thing is, there are so many reasons that Henry could've avoided things that I have no idea WHY Henry isn't affected. [Jack] Like, is he not affected because his art isn't a performance? Is he not affected because he warded his house? Is he not affected because he'S FILLED WITH GLOWING BLOOD?!?

[Jack] He got as far as feeding his cat, and I feel like feeding cat isn't a performance-- [Sammy] Not usually, not unless you sing a song to your cat, which-- [Jack] Awww! [Sammy] -- which, now that I've said that, sounds like something Jack would do actually,

[Sammy] Ohhhh, that's right, Joey just heard some people play some bad notes and start panicking, and then he stood up and passed out, [Jack] Which is probably how Sammy feels every time he hears people mess up music!

[GM] He finds news on the radio, but they’re not talking about that right now. [Joey] What are they talking about? [GM] Something mundane; business or sports or something. [Jack] The, the sportsball team, got a…..uh….. a, a point. Congratulations, sportsball,

[Joey] If the sportscasters sound normal, then Joey is instantly VERY ANGRY.

[Henry] Henry’s not very musically inclined, but he knows some songs, [Sammy] Like, can you hum Twinkle Twinkle Little Star -- [Jack] “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

[Jack] Jack has made a vague list of the kinds of people who seem to be affected. [Jack] There’s also “NOT HENRY?????” with a bunch of question marks in this list.

[GM] He’s told that Peter is out of town for a week. [Jack] Hmm. [Sammy] PETER WHERE ARE YOU GOING? [Jack] Hmmmmmm. [Sammy] Jack, is Peter coming here, to check on you, [Jack] HMMMMMMMMMMMMM,

[Sammy] *exasperated* NPCs Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Challenge [Henry] Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Or Draw 25

[Joey] Peter had never seen a Bendy cartoon, and this needed to be fixed. [Joey] The premier is this weekend, and he sent tickets to Pete to correct this, error, in his ways. [Jack] ...I think it is very slowly dawning on Jack, that this means that Pete has been pulled directly into yet another… supernatural nonsense... [Sammy] WE DIDNT DO THIS ONE!!

[Sammy] I CAN’T BELIEVE PHONES ARE THE ANTAGONIST OF THIS ADVENTURE

[Henry] Oh wait--! oh, no, nevermind, I forgot he and Allison probably aren’t together yet. [Sammy] Yeah, I think they just met; they had a meet-cute where they found out they both like Frankenstein and that’s it. [Jack] They actually got married today, since nothing else was happening at the Studio, [Sammy] That’s why Allison hasn’t shown up, she was busy getting married!

[GM] Bendy might’ve been keeping tabs on Henry, but it depends I guess on how distressed Joey is seeming. [Joey] Joey is probably just going to bury his sorrow in studying magic. [GM] Okay! That’s fine and normal Joey behaviour!

[Sammy] Sammy will note that nothing got done in the music department, because he has good priorities.

[Jack] I like the idea that it’s just like, when the teacher isn’t in, and nobody does the work the substitute teacher gave you, [Jack] Everyone’s just playing pokemon in the back, [GM] I thought you were going to say “poker,” but I like the way you ended the sentence better.

[Jack] HMMMMMM. I wonder if we know, any suspicious women, who were around on that specific day, who are known to have, skill and interest in magical things, [Joey] And also were aware of the cutouts, [Sammy] *cheerfully* Yeah, weird! Anyway!!!!

[Jack] Sammy was acting weird about Allison. Far too agreeable for a Sammy!

[Sammy] *talking about Prophet* If you want to lock him in somewhere, or restrain him, I’ll cooperate. [Jack] Just handcuff him to Jack! [Sammy] SAMMY IS UNEASY WITH THAT PLAN, [Jack] *laughing* What could go wrong! It’s not like Jack is significantly less strong or anything!!

[Jack] Not everyone makes up their entire self, Joey!!! (Affectionate)!!

[Sammy] I give my word, my sheep! [Henry] How good is your word? [Sammy] I mean. It’s pretty good.

[Henry] Henry’s trying to decide if it would be rude to doodle during this very serious conversation. [Jack] I mean, Jack is taking notes, so I feel like-- [Joey] --you can get away with fake note-ing. [GM] No one will know! [GM] Well, Bendy will know, because he’s up high. [GM] Ceiling Bendy

[Sammy] He’s not gonna give you a grade afterwards, like, this isn’t a lecture, [Jack] Time for Prophet Pop Quiz!

[GM] What’s Prophet writing? [Sammy] Um, I gotta think about this... [Jack] “Dear Frightened Shepherd, that Allison person sure is nice, isn’t she?” [GM] “What’s up with everyone ragging on her?” [Joey] “I think I have finally found a way to bridge the gap between us!” [Jack] “I think you need to replace your sheep, they seem kind of suspicious for no reason,” [Jack] “To Do List: Get Better Sheep”

[Sammy] Does this feel like something that’s trying to take his focus, like, very compelling creative ideas? [GM] Yes. [Sammy] ...Prophet will write “don’t get distracted” five more times.

[GM] His mind is abuzz with thoughts of dancing and actoring, [GM] Ideas to be the best Joey ever! [Jack] Oh no.

[Joey] He will wave at the cutout and make a “come here” motion. [Joey] Though also, he’s looking at the cutout like, I’m not quite sure how this works, but I’m going to trust you that it works! So I’m going to do this and see if Bendy shows up! [Jack] Like someone trying to learn how to do phone video calls for the first time, [Joey] YES. Joey’s actually like really close to the cutout, and the motions -- you can make them out, but it’s really awkward,

[Sammy] They’re in no danger. I will take care of the Shepherd’s sheep. [Jack] ...JACK’S BEEN DOWNGRADED!! He’s no longer PROPHET’S sheep!

[Joey] I like how everything Prophet says really just feels like, Knife Cat face.

[GM] You could probably make a Mythos roll to figure it out. [Joey] *rolls* Oh! Extreme success! [GM] Joey’s back!

[GM] Bendy will lead Joey back to the room, where hopefully there are three alive, non-fighting boys!

[Jack] Part of me was like, “What if Jack DOES turn into a cat…?! It’d be pretty hard to write things!” [GM] *laughs* We’ll keep that in our back pocket, in case Jack ever fails a Mythos check. [Jack] Meowthos check…

[Henry] I’m going to have Henry look, look with his Special Eyes.

[Sammy] *failing a roll* Prophet is just, NOT on the ball today, in any way shape or form. [GM] Really hard not to think about music. : ) [Sammy] Ohhhhhh boy, [Jack] Prophet just writes a note to Sammy that says “HOW do you LIVE like this???”

[Henry] Henry’s gonna try to scribble what he remembers of the symbol! [Sammy] Didn’t we learn, from the last scenario, about reproducing weird symbols, [Henry] No.

[Joey] Did Joey get burnt? [GM] Make a dexterity roll! : ) [Henry] *mumbling* Y’all this entire building is made of wood. *Joey fails* [GM] 1 point of damage, you singe your hand -- on the plus side, you kind of were holding it as it burned up, so it doesn’t fall on the wooden floor. [Sammy] OH GOOD, we’re not LOCKED IN A CLOSET that’s about to burn down? GREAT!

[Joey] We could head over to the infirmary -- [Jack] Jack is already pulling the burn ointment out of his bag. [Jack] He’s prepared this time! [Jack] He’s been practicing, he knows what you’re all like,

[Joey] Joey will give him a smile that’s most recognisable as the “I know you will do good!” smile. [Sammy] Prophet will also smile! It is not a friendly smile. [Jack] It’s a “smile” in quotation marks, but it’s like, baring your teeth as an act of aggression.

[Jack] Jack lets him go to do the call, but just before he picks up the phone, he says, “Don’t call him Petey.”

[GM] The phone rings, and is not answered. [Joey] Okay! Joey hangs up, says Peter checked into his room, but is not answering. Most likely asleep. [Jack] Half of my brain is going, “what if he’s just stood outside Jack’s house?” The other half of my brain is concerned about manias. I hope he’s not decided that now is a really great time to do more writing, and now he can’t stop, and this could go wrong-- [Jack] This is what Jack’s mind is doing, thinking of all the terrible possibilities. [Joey] While humming. [Jack] ...yes. He’s writing some very troubling lyrics.

[Sammy] *talking about Jack’s compulsive humming* Like Cornifer, [Jack] *starts humming Cornifer’s theme* Dangit, now it’s in my head, why would you do this to me? [Sammy] It’s in character! [Sammy] Method acting. : )

[Joey] Joey’s going to grab supplies to make sure Bendy can… hang around with them! [Joey] Sleepover supplies! Let’s grab your sleepover bag! :D

[Sammy] I don’t know why the idea of a wild Bendy running around across the rooftops is so cute to me… [GM] Probably on all fours, [Jack] Scampering,

[Jack] It’s a good thing Henry’s around because I don’t think Jack can… carry??? An entire Sammy??? [Jack] Like he’s good at holding but he’s not strong at holding.

[Joey] We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours… [Joey] WAIT. We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours!!!

[GM] Bendy hides under a blanket or something. [Jack] Comfey… [GM] Cozy boy, [Joey] Bendyrito. [Sammy] BENDYRITO,…….. [GM] Rolled up… snug...

[GM] Is everybody coming into the apartment, or just the two? [Jack] Hmmm….. Jack isn’t fond of either of these options. Going in is suspicious and weird; staying outside makes it look even more like they’re breaking in, to steal things, as opposed to, y’know, breaking in, for,,, “good” reasons(???) [Sammy] We’re not breaking in, we’re just walking into this apartment! What’s so weird about that?! [Jack] That’s breaking in. That’s what breaking in is, Sammy. [Sammy] They don’t have to know that we don’t belong here, maybe Susie gave us a key! [Jack] ...they heard us knocking. [Sammy] [Sammy] We’re BEING POLITE!! SHUT UP!!

[Henry] Jack, did you pick up kleptomania.. [Joey] I thought Jack picked up Being Prepared! [Jack] H-he’s just hoarding a little bit!! It’s fine!!! It’s very, useful, see, already Joey got injured!! It was useful to bring lots of things with him okay!!!!!!!!!

[GM] They do not have the police called on them, so that’s nice. [Sammy] Oh good! [Jack] Thank GOODNESS. [Henry] Love when that happens! [GM] If you guys got arrested, the Lurker’s just out in the car all night, [Henry] oh NO, [Jack] Worse punishment than jail… [Joey] Lurker learns how to drive for fun. [GM] *laughs* Gets curious, [Joey] “I said I wouldn’t leave the car, but--”

[Joey] WAIT. There’s a very important factor that we just decided but didn’t say. [GM] Oh? [Joey] If we have Henry heading home, and everyone else sleep over at Jack’s…. [Joey] ...the Lurker finally gets to meet a cat. *everyone gasps* [Jack] Oh that’s SO important

[Henry] And Henry will probably look at these, while in the car, to make sure they don’t have any gold writing on them-- [Sammy] Isn’t Henry driving??? [Henry] ……Henry is not going to look at them in the car,

[Sammy] We’re all going to bed, Sammy, you don’t need a banjo to sleep! [Joey] You might sleep worse if you have a banjo, actually. You might not stop.

[Sammy] Jack you wanna join us? We’re gonna just jam all night! [Jack] It really is Jammy… [Sammy] *laughs* TRUE Jammy!! Real Jammy Hours… [GM] That makes it a pyJAMa party… a real jammy jam…

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #Jack Fain #joey drew #Henry Stein #Bendy the Lurker #when in doubt just keep drawing #cthulhu game quotes #everyone except henry got a new insanity and we're doing... fine!

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seijorhi · 4 years ago

Text

Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you

Me attempting a multi-part fic?? More likely than you think! I wrote this fic because this blog started with Hawks and Dabi and kinda got a bit of traction with soulmate au’s so to me it made sense to post it for my first anniversary. I hope you guys like it! 💕

Touya Todoroki (Dabi) x female reader, Keigo Takami (Hawks) x female reader

TW canonical character ‘death’, a little angst and maybe a slight hint of dub-con (if you squint your eyes a little)

Part I, II

You’re eleven years old when your parents take you by the hand, sit you down on the couch and tell you that your soulmate is dead.

It doesn’t make sense. There’s a hollow ache inside of your chest like something important is gone but you were with Touya only yesterday. You had the rest of your lives together, you were gonna leave with him, start something better…

You feel empty and you can’t understand it. He can’t be dead, that’s not how it works. You find your soulmate and you get to ride off into the sunset. You get to be happy, everyone knows that.

But it doesn’t sink in until you’re kicking and screaming by his grave and Endeavor won’t so much as meet your eye and your parents are pulling you back because there’s no body.

There’s nothing left of Touya Todoroki.

And there’s nothing left of you without him.

—

They call it the bloom. A simple touch, the first from your soulmate’s hand, and the mark appears on your skin like drops of ink spilled into water. You’ve always thought it beautiful, the delicate black pattern imprinted on your wrist.

You can still remember the heat you’d felt when it happened. Not the burning kind you knew him capable of, but like the warmth of a fire seeping through you. And you remember the way those bright, blue eyes had widened as you’d tripped and fell, taking him with you. His mark was over his heart; Touya always was stupidly smug about that.

You were just kids. Angry and scared and lost, but you had Touya and Touya had you.

(Not that that counted for anything in the end. He still died alone.)

They say it’s rare to find your soulmate before adulthood, but you’d been one of the lucky ones.

Lucky.

The word tastes bitter on your tongue now. It’s not that you disagree exactly – even now, years after his death you’re glad that you had time with him. You would’ve been grateful for a minute, for a mere glance at his face. Two and a half years with your soulmate was a gift, but having him, losing him so young only meant that you had more years of your life to struggle on without him.

And sometimes you catch yourself staring at your mark, lost in thought. Touya was the one with all the plans, you were always just the tag along, happy to go anywhere so long as he was the one leading you. You wonder what he’d think if he could see you now. Not the Hero you’d let yourselves imagine, though you suppose you both knew deep down that was nothing more than a pipe dream for someone like you.

Gazing around your cramped, messy apartment, debating exactly how badly you need this shitty, barely-enough-to-scrape-by job, you can’t imagine he’d be impressed.

God knows your parents are disappointed, but that’s nothing new. The Quirkless daughter of two mid rank heroes – well, the only thing you ever had going for you was being Enji Todoroki’s future daughter in law, and everybody knows how that one ended.

But part of you likes to think that maybe Touya wouldn’t judge you too harshly for it. You’re doing the best you can. You’re surviving, all on your own, that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

There’s a text message awaiting you when you roll over and grab your phone.

Happy Birthday x

Natsuo never forgets. The rest of the Todoroki’s – you ceased to matter to them the day they buried an empty casket for their son. Natsuo’s the only one who bothers to check in on you, make sure that you’re keeping your head above the water. It’s usually just a message here and there, and he calls you on Touya’s birthday. And on the anniversary of his death.

It’s painful for him, but you suppose you’re the only tangible connection he has left of his brother.

You stare at the message for a moment longer, a strange feeling tugging at your heart. Typing out a quick reply, you set your phone down and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling with a sigh.

Today of all days, you’d honestly rather just roll over and let the hours pass you by, but your boss isn’t that forgiving and as much as you hate to admit it, you need this job.

The hotel’s already abuzz by the time you clock in, your manager’s jaw tight, a frown pinching at his face. As much as you don’t like him, you can’t exactly blame him for the bad mood – in less than three hours, the ballroom will be filled with a media circus and a plethora of pro heroes. Some big promotional event before the hero rankings are announced; you honestly don’t care.

It just means that everybody’s on edge, you’re gonna spend all day stuck in heels, smiling blandly while you serve people who won’t so much as look twice at you.

And then there’s the real reason you’re dreading today. 6’4”, blue eyed, broad shouldered, currently burning holes into you from across the ballroom while you carry around a platter of canapés. The last time you’d seen Enji Todoroki in person was two weeks after the funeral, and he’d ignored you entirely.

That was years ago; you weren’t even in your teens. Half of you had hoped that in his infinite arrogance and the complete lack of care he’d shown since his son’s death he would’ve forgotten about you entirely.

From the way he’s spent the last twenty minutes staring at you while bulldozing past reporters, though, you’re not feeling all that confident.

And for the life of you, you can’t figure out why your presence seems to be disturbing him so much, considering you’re really only there to serve and then fade into the background. It’s not like you’re chasing after him, demanding an autograph much less any kind of acknowledgement – you’re not exactly thrilled to be here either. Things work just fine with the two of you pretending the other doesn’t exist.

Does he think you’ve planned this? Some big ‘fuck you’ to try and mess with what you’re sure will be an announcement of his retainership of the number one position? Even while Touya was still alive, his father didn’t have a place in your life – he was off training his youngest, you barely saw him and you were glad for it.

While he might have hated him, some part of Touya still idolised him, craved his approval, but Enji had never been anything to you but a selfish, unfeeling monster. A bully.

But now he’s staring at you, slack jawed and wide eyed like he’s seen a ghost and it’s harder than you thought it would be to keep that smile plastered across your face knowing he’s watching your every move.

Your cheeks feels hot, and it only gets worse when you realise that Endeavor’s less than subtle behaviour is slowly but surely drawing attention from others in the room. A few curious reporters have shot you odd looks, heads cocked for a moment before dismissing you as just another waitress, hardly headline worthy.

The other heroes are less quick to brush you off. Mirko, current number five, elegantly clasping her glass of champagne in a gloved hand keeps shooting furtive glances between you and Enji, Gang Orca’s beady eyes following you across the floor, a flicker of what you’re fairly sure is concern maring his face.

It’s mortifying. Your smile is stretched and painful, your throat tight and you feel utterly exposed, but there’s nothing you can do. The flame hero doesn’t seem to care about the attention he’s drawing, or that with every passing minute it gets harder and harder for you to maintain that professional, customer service demeanour you need for this job.

And you’re beyond caring if he’s embarrassed to find his firstborn’s soulmate has sunk so low in his absence, you just want him to stop staring so you can finish your shift in peace. But it seems like the flame hero has other plans, because you’re just beginning to seriously weigh up your chances of keeping this job if you just up and walk off right here and now when Enji’s limited patience finally reaches its threshold.

He doesn’t bother offering excuses towards the poor reporter trying to pry an interview out of him, he just abruptly sets his drink down and starts stalking towards you. Rationally, you realise that with all these people here, he can’t make too much of a scene.

It’s just that even the thought of having to talk with him, to look into those blue eyes that are so painfully familiar yet wrong–

You can’t do it.

Not today.

And so you spin on your heel, stomach lurching. The silver tray in your hands stacked high with champagne teeters and falls, crystal glass shattering on the marble floors drawing gasps from the crowd. Endeavor calls out your name but you block him out, desperately weaving your way through the stunned mass of people.

Most of them give you a wide berth, likely due to the oversized hero barrelling after you. He calls your name again, louder this time. It’s not a scream, or a yell – it almost sounds pleading, though you can’t possibly imagine why. Endeavor doesn’t do pleading.

Your cheeks are burning; there’s too many people staring and hot tears begin to prickle at your eyes. A flash of red blurs past your field of vision and you start, a sharp squeak slipping out as a figure lands before you, blocking your exit.

Handsome with bushy eyebrows, dirty blonde hair messily brushed back and golden eyes gleaming; the hero in front of you would be impossible to mistake, even if it weren’t for the sweeping blood red wings sprouting from his back. Hawks, the current number two pro-hero and the only man standing between you and your fumbling escape.

Your body’s slow to catch up with your mind though, and as you try to stop, backpedal and side-step him at once your foot catches on your ankle. It’s instinctive, the way your arms fly up, wildly trying to catch yourself before you fall on your ass.

Just like you suppose it’s instinctive for him to rush forward to do the same.

It happens in a split second, your fingers brushing the skin of his neck just above the collar of his shirt, his hand grasping at your waist to steady you. Beneath his gloved hand a familiar burst of heat warms your skin.

Time slows to a crawl. The ballroom, all the gathered heroes and the press, your co-workers, they all fade into the background as your eyes dart to your fingertips, resting gently on the side of Hawks’ throat. There, a soft, inky black mark begins to unfurl spreading up to his jaw, disappearing below the collar of his turtleneck.

Over the quiet hum of the classical music playing in the background, you hear his breath catch.

He has you dipped, the two of you frozen as if in a dance and for a moment you dare to meet those piercing golden eyes. There’s a clicking sound, a camera shutter you distantly register, but while it makes your heart jump, Hawks pays it no mind.

He stares at you with impossibly wide eyes; open, vulnerable and raw.

And then he blinks, and that glimpse is gone, his grip tightening as he slowly sets you right. He doesn’t let you go, however.

“Hawks,” Enji’s tone is low and gruff, a warning this time.

Tension, thick and crackling with electricity hangs in the air between the three of you, amplified by the crowd of onlookers. All those journalists, chomping at the bit with the realisation of a juicy story playing out right in front of their eyes. Your name’s called out again, not by Endeavor, but by the reporter he’d cut off before – eyeing you now with an eager leer that has you recoiling back into Hawks’ embrace.

It’s enough to jerk the winged hero into action. His mouth finds your ear, his thumb sweeping soothingly along your side as he speaks low enough for only you to hear.

“You wanna leave, baby bird?”

You don’t remember nodding, but you must have, because in the space of a single heartbeat Hawks has you hoisted up in his arms, those powerful wings spreading wide – and you’re flying.

—

“I don’t think I have a job anymore,” you laugh drily, staring down at the city lights twinkling on the horizon.

Beside you, Hawks snorts in agreement, “Hell of a way to make an exit, though.”

He’s not wrong. You can only imagine what the tabloid headlines will say tomorrow ‘Pro Hero sweeps hotel waitress soulmate off her feet’ ‘Hawks mates for life; Endeavor jealous?’ Even if by some miracle your boss wasn’t intent on firing you on the spot, you’re not sure you can even bear to show your face there again.

It’ll be a pain though, trying to find a new job while your face is plastered across every less than reputable news outlet.

Perched atop the rooftop of Hawks’ hotel, halfway across the city, the wind ruffling gently through your hair, everything feels… surreal almost. It’s your birthday, and instead of crashing through the door of your apartment, exhausted and aching before falling face first onto your bed and not moving for the next few hours, you’re here. With the number two pro hero. Who, incidentally, is your second soulmate.

Having more than one soulmate, it’s not unheard of, just… rare.

And your hand’s entwined with his, his gloves long since discarded, his fleece lined jacket draped over your shoulders. Touya’s mark, long since blossomed across your inner wrist lies starkly between the two of you, unignorable.

“It was his son, wasn’t it?” he asks eventually, breaking the fragile silence as he toys with your fingers. When you nervously risk a glance up, Hawks doesn’t look angry or upset or even that jealous. Those golden eyes study your face with an odd kind of curiosity, but there’s no trace of resentment there. “Touya, the one who died. He was your soulmate.”

It’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. A part of you’s almost surprised he put it together so quickly, but you guess being a pro hero of that calibre requires a little more than just having a strong quirk.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, because what else can you say?

You can’t possibly imagine how he’s feeling right now, what thoughts are running through his head. You’d accepted a long time ago that while you’d love Touya Todoroki until your dying breath, he was gone; that chance of a fairytale happily ever after going with him. Another soulmate wasn’t something you’d ever considered, much less wasted time longing for.

And yet here you are, another mark inked across your skin and it feels wrong somehow, yet also completely right. Imagining being on the other foot; putting yourself in Hawks’ shoes – a pro hero soulmated to some insignificant, quirkless waitress, and not only that, but finding out she has another soulmate, somebody she loved before you, a ghost of a memory you’ll always be competing against… you honestly don’t know how you’d feel.

“Look at me,” he whispers, calloused fingers coaxing at your chin. Heart thrumming like a hummingbird's you comply, letting out another soft squeak as Hawks takes the hand still entwined with his and lifts it to his neck, right above his mark.

He smiles, nuzzling into the touch as your breath stutters. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” Again, you find yourself nodding without even really being conscious of it. It doesn’t seem to matter to Hawks though, whose smile widens at the sight of it. He leans in closer, his breath fanning across your face as molten pools of honey drink you in. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his touch, mixed emotions warring inside of you as he cups your cheek.

“And I’m yours. That’s all I care about, baby bird.”

He’s drawing you into a kiss before you can even comprehend the words, soft lips moving against yours. Gently at first, but that sweetness gives way to a burning urgency as he pulls you closer, holds you tighter.

Hawks kisses you like your lips hold salvation, and it’s frightening and thrilling and it feels like every nerve in your body is electrified when his teeth catch at your bottom lip and he moans your name.

There’s some part of you that realises that you’re moving too fast – soulmates or not he’s practically a stranger – but as you break for air, panting and breathless and Hawks looks at you with those burning, beautiful eyes; you’re helpless to resist.

“Keigo,” he tells you as he lays you down on his bed, crawling up between your thighs with a gleaming, hungry smirk that’s nothing less than predatory, ��Call me Keigo.”

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere keigo takami x reader #yandere touya todoroki x reader #tw character ‘death’#tw dub con #soulmate au #I’m not even sorry #except I am #lmao last one I promise

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roger-that-cap · 4 years ago

Text

brand new eyes

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

summary: having a penpal in the sixth grade was overdone, in your opinion. and handwritten letters just weren’t convenient. you weren’t happy at all to start talking to some random girl your age across the sea, but once you started, neither of you could find it in you to stop.

warnings: fluff!!!! mutual pining. badly written letters (actually the whole one shot). brief battle with sexuality. a seriously strong connection between two characters (almost soulmate territory here tbh). every single mistake here is 100% mine!

word count: 8.7k!

At first, you were sure that the pen pal letter suggestion for extra credit was stupid. Why would you handwrite a letter when you could send an email? Why would you send a letter by mail that would take much longer? It took two weeks for a handwritten letter to arrive, and only seconds for an email. It didn’t make any sense.

And then you got your first letter.

You realized very quickly why handwriting was what your teachers asked for. You never knew that handwriting could be so vulnerable, so open. You had never seen letters that were so loopy, so delicate. That letter was written so neatly and so personally even if the girl who had written it hadn’t meant it to be that way, and you knew that a computer even with all of its special fonts wouldn’t be able to do that.

You understood why the handwritten rule was there.

But you didn’t like it when it was your turn to craft something so beautiful.

It wasn’t a competition by any means, but you didn’t want your letter to look anything like the words you scratched down into your notebooks. You wanted them to be neat and pretty and most of all understandable for the girl behind the pen and across the sea, because she had done the same for you.

By the time you stopped ogling over the letters and started actually reading the words that the girl had written, you learned her name. You learned it within the first line, actually.

Wanda Maximoff.

She was obviously from Sokovia, she spoke English as her second language, and she had an older twin brother that she both adored and was annoyed by. She was in the equivalent of your grade in her country, and she liked to cook with her parents. The letter was basic and slightly elementary, just an introduction to what she was willing to share with a stranger that lived thousands of miles away.

But that didn’t make it any less special.

You started on your return letter minutes after you let her pretty words sink in.

You drafted your letter and let it sit for an hour without you looking at it, and then came back to it only to cross things out and revise it, and then put it on the expensive paper that your mother had bought for you. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours. It started with a greeting, your name, and then into the same sort of things that she spoke about in her own letter, the things that people that went to school with you had learned in passing over the years.

It felt like giving someone the rundown of your uneventful life so far in the simplest of ways. It felt like someone getting to know you as you wanted them to, because you were telling your story. There was no other side, or truth, or lie, just what your pen and your brain decided to write. It was controlled chaos. And you adored it.

Your print was easy to read. It wasn’t loopy like hers or as “girlish”, as one of your classmates said when you brought both letters to school to get an extra one hundred. It wasn’t fancy and alluring like hers, but there was still something magical on the pseudo-aged parchment.

You sent it off to the post office the next day, and you put her letter on your desk.

§§§

By the time that your third letter from her came, you already were drafting your own. It came straight to your mailbox and when you checked the mail that morning, you were ecstatic to see it waiting for you, like a pet waiting for it’s person to come home. As usual, it started off with the gentle scrawl of your name, just a bit larger than all of the rest of the words that were on the page.

I can’t believe that it’s already been weeks of us writing. We started in August, and it’s nearing the end of October. Speaking of, is it starting to get cold there for you? It’s already cold for us. Our grandmother always makes us the best tea and soup when it gets cold outside, and I could send you the recipe if you wanted!

My brother and I are curious about one thing, and we hope that we get your answer in time, but, is Halloween really a thing? We have both heard of it, but we’ve never done it here. It sounds magical. I’ve always wanted to dress up however I wanted and get candy for it. If I were to do it, I would probably be a Disney Princess, maybe Merida. Sadly, we don’t do that here. Does it really happen in the United States, or is that a movie thing?

Hopefully you don’t mind my questions much, or my short letter. Pietro likes to read over my shoulder while I write and receive the letters, and I like to write at the kitchen table. There’s no escaping him. You’ve never talked about siblings, do you have them?

The rest of the letter was like that, aloof yet curious and bouncing around all the same, and then signed with her always rushed conclusion, which was nearly the same every time.

You read it and put the letter in the box that you had bought from a thrift store, a box just big enough for the size of the neatly folded and tied off letters that she gave you. You clipped the box shut and put it back under your desk, and then started working on your response.

Instead of just a letter, you sent her a letter in a small box that had the candy that you had gotten on Halloween night, and the mask that went with the rest of your costume. It wasn’t the Disney Princess that Wanda wanted to dress up as, but it was something. It was your something.

§§§

As the December portion of your letter writing, you and your penpal were supposed to learn of the other’s traditions during the Holidays, whether you or them celebrated or not. A huge slide show about the culture of your Sokovian friend was supposed to be shown, and you knew that there would be a lot of the same PowerPoints, a lot of the same pictures and sayings and explanations. You wanted something different. You also had no idea if Wanda did Christmas, but you had to ask.

Wanda,

I’m sure that you know that our assignment now is to present a slide show about what our penpal does during the Holiday season, but because I don’t know whether you celebrate Diwali or Christmas or Hanukkah, I’ll start with asking you about New Years, because I’ve never met a person who didn’t celebrate New Years.

What do you do on New Years Eve? I’ll start by telling you that I watch the ball drop with my family, eat food, and drink cider after it hits midnight. It’s a big deal here for us, because the new year is a time for self revolution, apparently. I’ve never done a New Years resolution, but maybe I’ll do one this year. Have you ever done one?

I know that food is very big over in Sokovia, so what kind of food do you traditionally have when you’re celebrating? Do you like it? Can you cook it yourself? Because I know that you have the same questions for me that you have to put in before you leave for Winter Break, I’ll answer my own questions.

And you did. You were thorough, partly because you thought that it was kind of you to do so because she should get a good grade, and also because she had written that she was thankful for your descriptions on multiple occasions. You had noticed that she was the more whimsical writer and that you came off as the more grounded one, and it intrigued you.

You wondered if you two would come off that way in person to other people, if you ever got the chance to meet.

When her letter came two weeks later, wrapped in aged string as always, you skipped to your bedroom, already pulling the box out from under the table and starting to read it. You smiled through the whole thing.

In her own way, not as precise or even in order as you, she had told you everything you needed to do a good slide show about Sokovia during the Holidays.

§§§

You were emotional at the end of the year. Not because you were leaving the sixth grade and going to a new building in the school and leaving behind your kind teachers, but because the pen pal assignment was over.

No other assignment had been so important to you, or eye opening. You were only twelve years old, but you were old enough to know that you had never found a friend like you had in Wanda, who was still thousands of miles away. No one else, not even the people that stood feet apart from you, offered you friendship like Wanda Maximoff did.

You couldn’t stop writing to her.

It was your turn to send a letter, the final letter that you were supposed to send, and then her closing letter was supposed to come two weeks later. You couldn’t just close it. Your entire mind was screaming at you to not close the book that you had hardly started yet.

So, as your pen rested on the parchment paper (without drafting first), you lifted it up, and changed your mentality from a “goodbye” to a hopeful and questioning one, as you hoped that she felt the same and wanted to talk just as much as you did.

Wanda,

It’s the end of the year. Technically, we should be done with our letters because it’s the end of the year, and the assignment is graded. This should be a closing letter, but I don’t think that our friendship was ever dictated by the grades that we got. We were always closer than all of the other pen pals at school that I knew, and I was hoping that you would want to continue writing.

You couldn’t write much more after that, because your pen was shaking and you were starting to get in the danger zone of dropping tears on the paper. If this was your last letter to Wanda, you wanted it to be pretty. Just half as pretty as she always made hers, if you could manage it.

You sent it off the next morning after finding an old string that was nearly the same colors as hers and getting your friend across the street to hold it down and color the outside of it for you.

§§

A part of you wanted to say that you wouldn’t have been expecting to still write handwritten letters to a girl in Sokovia in the ninth grade, but you certainly were. While everyone else in your class had lost contact after the assignments were done or tried and failed to keep contact afterwards, you and Wanda continued talking all through the years.

It astounded your parents, who were sure that in the beginning, you were just obsessed with someone who was your age and who wasn’t exactly like you. They thought for sure that you would have lost interest in talking to Wanda, but after three straight years, gas spent taking you to the post office, and money spent on special stamps and the same paper, they were starting to finally get the hint.

Because you were so close with Wanda, you hardly had close friends in your neighborhood, and maybe two or three at school. There was no one that knew you like Wanda did, and no one that knew Wanda like you did. One particular letter where you confessed probably the worst thing you had ever done to her that no one else knew was what finally let you know that she was the most judgement-free person in the world, and that you would do anything to keep her. You would never forget how the letter went, and how her response sounded.

Wands,

I’ve done something terrible. I may have accidentally gotten involved with a boy who already had a girlfriend, and I had no idea. I had literally no idea, and today she just called me out of nowhere and started crying over the phone to me, and I had no idea that he was with her. At all. It was so pitiful, and she’s not mad, and she says that she won’t tell anyone it was me, but still. She seemed to really like him, and I think I may have just ruined a relationship. I have no idea what to do, and all I feel is guilt. Nothing more or less. Should I send her something? Give her a gift card? I feel terrible because she was just so sweet about it.

The letter went on and on with your scripted rambling, so repetitive and panicked that you were shocked to know that Wanda had, in fact, read the entire thing. She got a message back to you rather quickly, and that made you both nervous about her verdict and glad, because you felt like with an answer so quick, she must not have judged you too harshly. You remembered opening it with shaky hands, and inhaling and exhaling when her first words after your nickname were “breath in” and “breathe out”.

Wanda once said that writing to you was like writing to a diary who always wrote back, and you couldn’t agree more. She knew everything, and she never judged. And, when the time came for her to put all of her eggs in your basket of trust, you did the same for her.

You distinctly remembered getting the few letters that you kept at the bottom of your letter stack, even though you liked to have them in chronological order. In the eighth grade, Wanda was having a crisis over her sexuality. Being anything but straight in Sokovia wasn’t the best thing to be, and you knew that. The first letter she ever sent you about her sexuality had dried spots on it, where she had obviously cried. Her handwriting wasn’t anywhere as neat as it usually was, and it sent you into a state of panic.

We talk to each other about everything, so here I am asking for your advice because I won’t be getting anything here. I know that usually we keep our letters formal for aesthetic purposes, but I can’t this time. Also, no one other than you can read this.

From there, she told you that she was sure that she liked women, and that she was even more sure that her parents would be upset at her. She told you that she had been dwelling on it for a while, thinking about it and having it weigh heavily on her mind. She was all over the board with it, from her parents being upset to her being afraid that you were going to be opposed to it as well, or tell her that she was “too young to think that way”. She ended the letter by telling you that you were the first person that she had ever told.

You started your letter with your own confession, and Wanda Maximoff was the first one you ever told, too. You were past having your crisis, though, and you helped her through hers without a second of complaints. You always wished that you had someone to help you when you were down and questioning yourself, so you knew that you would be that for Wanda without hesitation.

You two grew together even more, and by the ninth grade, you both knew that there wasn’t going to be anything in the world that could stop your letters.

You came home one day after a long day and checked your mailbox out of habit, knowing that a letter wasn’t due for a few more days. But there it was, wrapped and sitting pretty for you. Your name was scrawled beautifully on the front in the handwriting that got better and better with every year, but you would recognize it anywhere. A smile grew onto your face as you walked to your front door, unlocking it and rushing inside to get to your desk. Of course, your name came first in the loopy letters.

I hope you’re doing alright! Things have been busy over here on my side of things, but never busy enough to not write you back. I just wondered, have been wondering for a while, really, if we were ever going to meet. We’ve been writing to each other for years, but I’ve never seen a picture of you. I know everything about you, but I’ve never met you. You are my best friend in the entire world, but I’ve never heard your voice. One day I would love to finally meet you. Would you be open to thinking about one of us flying out? Maybe after school is over for the both of us, we could make it happen. Number

It was much longer than that, but that was what caught your attention, more than her description of her busy week did. You read the letter three times. And then again. Your heart thumped in your chest as you tried to get a grip on yourself, irrational nervousness gripping your throat like an iron fist.

You knew the day was coming. You knew that it was. You two didn’t know what the other looked like at all, and neither of you had ever asked. Sometimes, you thought about it, but other times you found that it really didn’t matter. It didn’t matter what she looked like because she was the best friend you had ever had, so you forgot about it. But that wasn’t what worried you.

The thought of meeting her nearly put you in cardiac arrest. You couldn’t meet her. What if you met and you two were totally bored of each other? What if how close you were on paper didn’t reflect at all in real life? What if you two found roadblocks in conversation that you never saw before? You didn’t want to meet her, not at all. You were terrified of it.

Because if you didn’t connect with Wanda on sight, then you doubted that you would ever be able to connect with anyone else. If you were wrong about Wanda being your person and her being yours, you would be crushed. If you figured out that the person who you gave your all for didn’t like you anymore after meeting you, you would die on the spot. You couldn’t afford to find it out.

You sat at your desk for an hour after reading her letter, smoothing your hand over the paper like you always did before you wrote your response. You knew what you needed to say, you just didn’t know how to say it.

What she had already written helped you, too. She was implying that they met up after graduation, which was still years away. You had time to hold off on it, to not talk about it for a while. You had some stall time in the bank, for sure. And you were going to use it.

§§§

You made the mistake of not putting the letter in your box.

Your mother came into your room, and she saw the letter. Your desk was typically off limits, so you were upset that she read it anyway, but what she said led all anger out of your body and made way for fear.

“You should totally go see your friend, sweetie!”

“What?”

“I’d pay for you to fly out,” your mom said. “I’d come with you, but I would pay for you to fly out and see your friend. You’ve been writing each other for three years now, and you’ve never seen each other. You guys should do it.”

“You’d fly me out to Sokovia?”

“You’re a great kid, of course I would.” You took the letter from her hands gently and put it in the box, and she gave you a look. “You don’t want to go, do you?”

You didn’t answer.

“Why not?”

“I’m scared to meet her,” you admitted plainly, and then your mother gave you a look.

“She seems so excited to, after all these years. She’s such a sweet girl, what are you worried about?”

You couldn’t answer that. Your fears were your own, and they sounded ridiculous out loud. They made no sense to everyone else, and sometimes not even to you. Wanda Maximoff was nothing but sweet and kind and a good friend, and there you were, trying to blow her off because you were scared of a possible lack of face to face connection.

“Can we just drop it?”

And you did. In fact, all four of you did, until later.

§§§

By the end of your junior year, you were done for. Not because of tests or applications or any of that, it was because you realized that you were in deep for Wanda Maximoff.

It all made sense. The need to keep writing to her, the excitement you had felt getting a letter since sixth grade, the way you marveled over her penmanship and loved everything that she said and did. You were so in love with her, and it was irreversible. You were in love with her and what the two of you created together.

And you couldn’t lose that because of a bad meeting.

You avoided the topic of going there or Wanda coming to you, and you finally got each other’s numbers so that you could text on some international texting app, but primarily, it was still the heartfelt letters with the occasional heart stamps and constant string coming your way. And you wouldn't haven’t wanted anything different.

You sat at your desk on the last day of school as you wrote to her, writing about how you were about to watch some of your slightly older friends graduate in a few days. You also mentioned how you were excited to be a senior and get through your last year of high school just so that you could go and do whatever it was that you wanted to do, because you were only seventeen, and you didn’t know anything.

Sunshine,

I can’t wait to get out of high school. It’s not bad, just boring. I wish the people here were like you, and then maybe I could actually carry a conversation with them. Have you told your family yet? I told mine. My mom was… shocked to say the least, but she was fine with it. I think she might have suspicions about us writing to each other now, but who cares? I want to know if you’re alright.

How’s your new job going? I know you were excited to get one, so I hope it’s treating you well. It’s funny that you and Piet work across the mall from each other. I knew it was gonna be like that, even though you said it wouldn’t be! You two are inseparable, it’s so cute. Does he have any idea what he wants to do after we get out of school?

I kind of think that I want to start my own business. A flower shop, maybe. You know how I sort of have a green thumb. I think it would be good for me to own something. What do you think?

You wrote for about thirty minutes more, answering the questions she had asked you in a previous letter and signing your name at the bottom, a small smile on your face as you thought about her and her brother making food together like they always did.

You loved her. You really did.

§§§

It was in the middle of your senior year when you realized what the problem with her coming was. You had been keeping it so far in the back of your mind that you didn’t even realize that the alarms were blaring in the back of your head.

You knew that if you saw Wanda in person once that you would never be able to let her go. You would have to pick up and move to her country or she would come to yours, and it would kill your mother for you to move. So, that would mean that you would be asking for Wanda to leave her own family to be with you, and you couldn’t be selfish.

So, you would be selfish in a way that was also selfless by holding off on seeing her.

You hadn’t told her that you loved her, and you planned on never admitting it. You were sure she kind of knew, even just a little, but she never said anything. The way that you were holding onto the idea of her probably said enough for her to know. You just hoped that she knew that you were in love with her as a friend, at least. Wanda was the type who needed to know that they were loved, and she so was.

You loved her without even knowing what she looked like. You loved her without knowing whether she had a nasty habit or if she was a neat freak. You loved her without seeing her in a dress or in your favorite color or even looking into her eyes. You had never even heard her voice before, but that didn’t matter at all. You fell in love with her hand writing, then the way that she wrapped her letters, and then her words themselves. And then, you just were in love with Wanda Maximoff. All of her. All that you knew. And the things that you didn’t.

You thought about a confession letter for a long time. You were terrified of it, to say the least, because what if it backfired? What if she thought that you were only interested because she came out to you? What if she thought that you didn’t mean it at all?

Or worse, what if she just completely didn’t feel that way at all? What if the feeling she got when she wrote to you was nothing but platonic? That would be the biggest nightmare of all, and you had no idea how you were ever going to be able to pick up your fancy pen and put it to your special parchment after reading that.

By the time that you finally stopped wrestling with yourself about whether you were going to tell her that you were in love with her, you got a letter in the mail. A heart stamp was on the outside and it was tied with the string it always was, and the familiarity calmed your racing heart. You opened it gently, like you did with all of the letters you got, and then you saw her familiar scrawl.

How could someone’s handwriting feel like home?

Moonlight,

I would love to tell you about everything that’s been happening here, but I believe that it’s rather boring compared to what’s been bursting at the seams in my own mind. With every letter that I’ve ever written to you since we were thirteen, I’ve hesitated with my pen over telling you what I know has been true for years. I think that, finally, I know that I have something to say to you. I’ve always wanted to admit this to you, ever since the seventh grade.

I think that I fell in love with you, a long, long, time ago. I think that I know I did. I haven’t told you, and I never intended to tell you, because I was scared. I’m still scared here, as I write this letter, but I can’t keep it to myself anymore.

Pietro already knows, but he knew before I even did. I’m sure it has something to do with us being so in sync, that he knew where my heart, love, and loyalties were before I even knew myself. I tell you everything, and something as monumental as falling in love with someone, I believe that you should know. But I couldn’t tell you. Not in the beginning, and apparently, not even after a year or two.

I’ve never seen you or heard your voice or held your hand, but I don’t need that to know that I truly have fallen in love with the person that you are. You are a beautiful person with the most gorgeous soul I have ever had the privilege of talking to, and I think that we have stumbled upon a connection that we may never see again, if you feel the same way.

If this made you uncomfortable in any way, please tell me. I’m sorry if this came on too strong, or too up front. I never want to make you upset.

It’s okay if you don’t want to carry on writing to me after this letter. I just thought that I needed to tell you after all this time. We never lie to each other, and I think that this lie to save me from possible embarrassment or losing the greatest friend I have ever had has expired. Thank you as always for reading, Moonlight.

Your Sunshine, Wanda.

Your jaw was slacked, and your mouth was open. Your heart was beating so quickly, but it wasn’t frantic. Your mind was going at a thousand miles a minute, but you were calm. You were supposed, but you weren’t. It simply felt… right. It felt like you had secretly been expecting it all along, like your soul had known the whole time, or maybe even like it had known that you felt the exact same way. It felt like you were receiving news that you had already heard about.

But that didn’t take away any from the pure elation that you felt. You set the letter down so that you didn’t accidentally wrinkle it, and then put your head in your hands to hide your smile and think, like they would help you any.

She loves me. Wanda loves me. And not in the way that friends loved each other, that’s not how she loved you. She felt what you had been feeling, a bond so strong that it could be felt on paper.

Your hands shook as you reread the letter. You scanned over it for a second time, a third time, and you were tearing up by the fifth, finally setting it down again and leaving it on your desk. It didn’t deserve the beautiful darkness of the box where it’s predecessors went, not yet. Probably not ever. You would have framed it in the moment, if you could have.

Part of you was glad that she admitted it first. You were going to, one day, maybe. But the worst part was the hypothetical wait for the letter to cross the pond. Whoever sent the confession letter would have to wait about two weeks for a response, and that felt like forever. You knew that just as much as she did, and she still took the chance to do it.

So, with the most fond and gentle smile on your face, you took out your special pen, wrote Sunshine as the entrance, and then professed your own love right back at her, trying as hard as you possibly could to make it as beautiful and raw for her as you felt on the inside, and as the one that she gave you. But, all you could think of were the first two sentences, but you knew that you were going to go for much longer than that.

Sunshine,

Oh, Wanda. How I wish we were both brave enough to do this earlier.

§§§

By the end of your senior year, you two were dancing around each other, taking it slow, as if you both hadn’t professed your love for each other. You kept writing your steady letters to each other, the same nicknames, the same doting words and pretty scratched across the paper with dark ink.

For the most part, nothing changed. But neither of you could deny the way that you wanted to see each other. And so, your time was up. You had to stop messing around.

The first time the two of you planned to see each other, it was supposed to happen over that summer break. It was supposed to be a nice experience for everyone, at a time that was actually pretty convenient.

And then, right during the week she was supposed to come, her aunt passed away, right in her sleep. It didn’t even come to your mind to think about rescheduling so fast, and that was the first time you had ever gotten an email from Wanda. She emailed you the morning that she found out, saying that she would rather send the first email than have you show up at the airport upset because you didn’t know she wasn’t coming. She was able to resell her ticket and you assured her that it was totally okay for her to not be coming, and you gave her condolences, as well. Wanda was very close to her family, and you knew that she felt that loss.

The next time the plans fell through, it was because you were going to surprise her. Your mom paid for your ticket, and you had finally grown out of your own mind and realized that it was going to be what it was regarding meeting Wanda. But, when you emailed her two nights before, spilling the beans because you didn’t want to just go to the airport without knowing how the hell to get around, you got a quick response. Turns out, she wasn’t anywhere near her house, or the airport. She was on a marine biology trip in some waters off the coast of Romania, and she hadn’t gotten the chance to write you all about it yet. You begrudgingly canceled the trip and told her that of course, it was alright. That night, your mom assured you that the two of you would just try again later.

But then life happened. You went off to culinary school, a last minute yet sure decision after Wanda had taught you that there was so much more to love about food other than the taste. She had your new address and you had hers, because she moved from Sokovia to Italy for her marine biology major. The letters came and went faster, with the smaller amount of mileage.

Long story short, neither of you had enough money to go and spend thousands on a trip, and not even one helping the other out or splitting the cost helped much. Wanda was getting increasingly nervous about whether it was ever going to happen, and though she never stated it directly, it was very obvious. You were getting there, too.

The thing that kept you going was the letters. The same as they had always been on her end and yours, they were the one constant in your life. Wherever you went, you knew that her letters would follow you, and that you would still write from your heart and send your own across the sea over to some place in Europe. You knew that as long as her letters were lengthy and detailed and that if she took the time to wrap them as gently as she had been, that you two were strong. And as long as you kept giving advice and writing her entire short stories about you week, she knew that you were still hers.

You would be hers until your heart stopped beating, and long after that. You were there for her for as long as she wanted you to be, and that was widely known.

§§§

It took four years for you to get back home and in a place where you could afford a ticket in or out. Wanda took a little longer, but that didn’t matter. It only gave you even more time to save and plan for when she came, and the date came.

You were both twenty two when you bought her the winning ticket. You were flying her out to Florida for a week and a half. The Keys, to be exact. You knew that she was going to love it and the beautiful waters that came with it, and it was away from the meddling eyes and mouths of your family, the ones who had been routing for you from afar (and in the beginning, behind your back). It was just going to be the two of you in a condo, and you knew that it was going to be heaven on earth.

Now, hell on earth was the anticipation of waiting at the airport. You had no idea what Wanda Maximoff looked like, partially because it didn’t matter while you two wrote, and also because you wanted to see her for the first time in person. You two had a flare for dramatic romantics, another reason that you two clicked so well.

You stood with a sign that you had made the night before with paint that you had mixed yourself into her favorite shade of red, a scarlet, almost pink color. You were in a sundress because it was sweltering outside, and you were almost nervous about how she would take the heat after being somewhere so cold all of her life. You were rocking back and forth on your feet without even noticing, and your stomach growling was the last of your worries. Your heart was racing and your hands were shaking, but you willed them to stay still so that she could at least have a chance of reading it.

You were sure that you were about to pass out. It seemed like it had been millennia and a day all the same with her in your life. Everything that you had written each other was really about to come to life, after ten long years. You felt almost like it wasn’t real at all, like you were about to be woken up by your alarm back in your apartment over at your old school. But it was very, very real, and all the receipts and your racing heart advocated for the truth in it all.

The gates opened, and all of a sudden, people were lazily walking out, as one would do after a long flight. You were certain that the woman who was standing next to you could hear you start to slightly hyperventilate, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered to you in that moment was Wanda.

A man came up from behind you and bumped you, and he said his apologies while you bent down to pick up the sign. Despite your nervousness, you stopped to tell him that it was okay, sign still face down on the floor. He grinned at you and then frowned when he looked up, causing you to mirror his expression.

Your name. It was clear as day, accented, close, and sounded like a sigh of relief and wonder floating in the wind. It came from a woman you didn’t know the voice of, and just like that, you remembered what you were doing. You left the sign on the floor, stood up, and turned around as fast as you could, eyes slightly wild as they soaked in everything about the woman standing in front of you.

Her hair was almost a cross between light brown and light red, even in the fake lights of the airport. She had light makeup on and she looked a little tired from the flight, but the look of elation on her face wiped it all away. Her pink lips were curved into an open mouthed smile, like she had forgotten the words while they were already halfway to her tongue. Your heart raced as you looked at her, and you didn’t even need to question who she was. Or who she was to you. You couldn’t look at anything but her face, the face you had been missing so achingly without ever seeing it before, the face that you knew was bound to give you comfort that you had never felt one in your life, until the end of your days. Her eyes were wide and a clear blue as they stared back at you, reflecting your exact expression, and you sensed that the two of you had already synced up and gotten on the same page, just like you had both predicted.

“O-oh my god,” you breathed out, just inches away from her. “Wanda!” You went in for an embrace at the same time, both of you somehow knowing which way to lean your head to avoid collision, and just where to put your arms. You fought shaking when you held her, your nerves completely shot at it finally happening. You were actually with Wanda, in an airport, hugging her like there was all the time to spend in the world. “Oh my god,” you repeated, and you felt her squeeze you a little closer to her. You could have cried in that moment.

“You,” she pulled back from you to take your face in her hands, her blue eyes scanning over your face like she was studying priceless art. In the back of your mind, you wondered if it was the way she looked when she watched the animals underwater. She shook her head slowly, eyes welling up with the thinnest layer of tears as her lips turned up into a smile. “You are beautiful.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked downwards, feeling yourself get hot at the bold and sincere compliment. You knew that anything more than about three words was going to smoke you stutter “Wanda, have you seen yourself?” She laughed, a soft sound that you had imagined hearing so many times that you almost thought you had made it up, until you saw the upturn of her mouth and the mirth in her eyes.

“I’m- I can’t believe I’m actually here,” Wanda breathed out, and you felt the same exact way. How had you pulled it off? After nearly a decade of pining that was mutual and writing to each other about every little detail in your lives, she was finally right in front of you, where you could see her and touch her.

“How’d you know it was me?” You asked after a second of grappling for something to say. “I didn’t have my sign up when you came.”

The smile that was on her face went from being flat out joyful to content, almost peaceful. It rubbed off on you immediately as you leaned back into her touch, ignoring all of the people bustling around in the busy airport. “I just knew that it was you.”

§§§

For the entirety of the day Wanda arrived, all the two of you did was stare at each other and hold onto each other, like you were both equally terrified that the gods were going to come down from wherever they resided to split you up again. There was hardly even any talking when you arrived at the condo, and it felt natural. The two of you had already spoken so much, and now you needed to catch up on just seeing her. You’ve seen her soul, her mind, her heart, and now you were seeing her face. It felt like you had always known it.

But you were the first one to speak as you held hands on the deck, her thumb drawing subconscious hearts on the back of your palm. “You have a way with words, sunshine.” The name contrasted to the sky, which was dark but illuminated with an almost full moon and stars. The city was mostly behind you, so the natural light was what you got. It was all that you needed.

You felt her content fade into joy. “Really?”

You knew that she was nervous about her English, but to you, it was perfect. From her accent to the way that she sometimes missed connotations that were specific to the language to the idioms that accidentally slipped into your letters, you loved it. “Mhm,” you hummed, leaning your head on her shoulder. “And I never would have imagined that you sounded so… sweet.”

“Sweet?” She parroted, and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. Somehow, you knew that she could feel it, in some strange way. “Can I ask you something?” The answer was yes. It was yes, and it always would be yes. So, you said that. She cleared her throat, a quiet sound that you stored in your memory to keep, simply because she made it. “Did you… did you mean what you wrote?”

You were stumped. There had to be hundreds of letters between the two of you, and thousands upon thousands of topics. But you couldn’t question yourself for long, because then you knew exactly what she was talking about.

Did you truly love Wanda? The question came up a few times between you and your mother when you were in your first year of culinary school. Were you in love with Wanda Maximoff, or were you in love with the idea of Wanda and the mystery she brought? The question had been brought up, many times by your mother, who was only just making sure that you were being smart, and the answer never once varied. Yes. You loved Wanda Maximoff with every breath you took, every stroke of your pen, every glance at her pretty script. You knew that Wanda was it for you, and seeing her only solidified it. The way your hand fit together like they were the missing parts of a lost artifact made it concrete. The way she gave you everything back and the way you did the same told you everything you needed to know.

You leaned off of her shoulder and turned to face her, a soft smile on your face as the moon came out from behind the singular patch of clouds in the night, illuminating her features. You saw her face and her spirit through brand new eyes, and it was wonderful. It was all you could ever ask for. “Wanda,” you started, your voice quiet enough to not disturb the moment, and the sound of waves crashing not too far away. “I’ve loved you since I knew what love was, and I have been in love with you for as long as I knew what the difference between the two really was. Everything that I have ever sent to you, every word, I meant it all. And I’ll mean it for the rest of my life.”

She was staring at you blankly, with only a bit of something lingering in her gaze. Then, as soft as a breeze, she was muttering something under her breath in her mother tongue and putting her hand on your face. “Can I kiss you?”

You ignored the way that your heart surged in your chest. The moon was still out and bright, shining down on the two of you like you had paid for it to be a spotlight. “You never have to ask,” you said, and then, as fluidly and gently as humanly possible, she tilted her head and leaned forward, and you met her halfway.

§§

You had never been scuba diving before, but Wanda was in her element. She helped you suit up after she told the instructor that she was certified, and then rolled her eyes playfully when he checked behind her work. You cracked a smile. The entire time he was instructing, she was nearly bursting at the seams to get into the water, and the second he said that the two of you were allowed to go, she was holding your hand and asking if you were ready.

You never thought that Wanda could look more beautiful than she already had, but in and near the water, she was something else. She was in a state of grace and peace all the same, and you wanted nothing more than for her to be so tranquil, for the rest of her life. All you wanted in return was to be privileged to see it.

The gods that made you fear a bad trip were actually on your side, because Wanda excitedly pointed out a group of migrating sea turtles, not even paying either of you any mind at all, carrying about through nature. You smiled at them and at her, unable to decide which one was going to be the apple of your eye at the moment. You chose her.

§§§

You got out of the shower, your skin still slightly damp and the air humid from the heat of the water. You smiled at Wanda when you caught her looking at you, giving you that same blank stare that she had the first night the two of you got there. You stopped in your tracks, giving her the encouraging look that you knew she needed. “You okay, Wands?”

“I love you.”

Your breath hitched. It was the first time she had spoken the words aloud, and you both knew it. The weight of the words and the confession felt so true, so genuine, that it went straight to your heart and made it swell with warmth. A small yet generous smile stretched onto your face as you felt everything fall into place. “I love you, Wands.”

“More than I’ve ever loved anything,” she continued, like she hadn’t even heard you, and you looked back at her with a doting expression. “And, I’ve been holding off because I don’t know how to say that,” she paused, and then she fell into deep thought.

You took a step closer, assuming that the small language barrier had come up. When it took her more than a few seconds and you saw the little scrunch of confusion between her brows appear, you spoke up. “There’s no rush,” you said gently.

“If other people were to look at us, they would say that we have only known each other for three days,” she said, and you nodded. “But, I feel that we’ve known each other for thousands of years. I feel that we were made to meet, and that we were always going to no matter what came up. Why else would we both be so focused on talking to each other? I have always seen you as someone special to me, always, but now that we have finally seen each other face to face, I think that my… heart is recognizing you as it’s other part.”

You had no words in your mind at that moment, because they were all in your heart. You couldn’t open your mouth to convey the pure shock and relief that you felt at her admitting something that you had been feeling the whole time. You swallowed and felt your eyes burn with tears, but before they could fall past your cheeks, Wanda stood up and wiped them from your face before pulling you close.

Nothing mattered. Not the fact that you were still wet and she was in her pajamas, not the fact that you were in a towel, not the fact that the pizza man was knocking at the door. It was you and her, like it always had been in your mind, and Wanda’s too.

You were it for her, and she was it for you. And while you hugged it out in that beautiful condo in Florida, you silently thanked your sixth grade English teacher for making you write to a random girl your age all the way across the Atlantic, and you thanked Wanda for being the one who wrote her way right into your life.

so. uh! hiiii! i hope y’all liked it! i loved writing it, even though she was a lil bit of a challenge, not gonna lie. feedback is always appreciated!!

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #marvel fanfic #wanda fluff #scarlet witch #marvel au #wanda maximoff fluff #lgbtq #lesbian!wanda

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 4 years ago

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I decided to watch the Walker pilot so you don’t have to. #1

I don’t know why I’m doing this, but I’m doing this and the more I put it off the less I’ll want to do this. So. Let’s start.

The fist thing we see is Jared Padalecki, em Walker, driving. He’s vaguely smiling and there’s the sun behind him. He seems happy. He’s driving a truck, for some reason my mind goes to Twilight. I’d rather watch that. At least there are vampires (not dressed like clowns) there. Anyway. Walker is meeting someone. He’s meeting his wife! “Look at you!” she says. The camera makes us look at him. He looks like this

I am unsure whether we’re supposed to see this as sexy or cool. It looks frankly ridiculous. I don’t know if I’m just not American enough to appreciate the aesthetic of this. But I didn’t go through 15 seasons of Americana-in-British-Columbia for nothing. If a character appeared like this on Supernatural, it wouldn’t be presented seriously. It would be played for a chuckle or in a light-hearted way at least. Not even Dean Winchester would find this hot.

The Padaleckis tell something to each other. Apparently he needs to go home with the kids and his parents because it’s game night. My mind immediately goes to Game Night the episode and I am sad now. But Walker lifts my mood in its own weird way. He doesn’t know the rules because every time she tells him the rules, he blacks out. I would make a fun quip about this, but the truth is that I relate to him a lot right now because I blacked out during the entire scene. I’m not sure what they said other than the game thing because I wrote it here. I already forgot the rest.

Anyway. What we’re supposed to get from this scene that they’re Very In Love (see that soft warm light?), and that he’s anxious because he’s not great at being a father because he’s shit at games apparently, but his wife is like ~don’t worry so much~ because she’s a kind, understanding wife. He tells her to be safe, because the Texan countryside is dangerous or something. She needs to stay on a route he approved for some reason. Is she traveling with supersoldier serum in her car? Is Hydra going to murder her? [cue the Marvel snipers shooting me to death because they don’t want Marvel to be associated to this]

Later, everyone is having fun playing fake monopoly, but Walker (whose mannerism is just Jared, he’s not even trying) is apparently too stupid to understand a game for kids. Plot twist, this is anti-cop propaganda because it says cops are dumb.

“Et tu Brute” Jared says when the kids point out he broke a rule so they get an extra turn. I thought I was safe from hearing Jared speak Latin! I thought I was safe! I am never safe!

Emily (Gen) suddenly texts him “SOS. Answer” which is OMINOUS! Oh my god! Aren’t you feeling the tension. The rest of the family keeps playing fake monopoly. Someone throws dice. Are we supposed to go “oh! The dice are ~symbolic because someone’s playing dice with her life” or have I been watching too much good tv.

She is running somewhere in the countryside, wearing a white shirt (is this the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown?). She says something is not right. He’s worried. Then he hears gunshot and her scream. He does the Alarmed Jared face, presses lips together and does a Upset Jared face.

Then he goes out, tries to call her again, and again, does a Jared Upset Sniff--

Oh! We actually see her! She’s alive, but she’s been shot in the stomach. Her white shirt is definitely the cowboy lady equivalent of the Wife Nightgown! Ah the blood coming from the stomach! How terrible! Her phone is ringing but she cannot reach it. She is definitely alive right now, though. She’s breathing heavily because of the wound, which is breathing, which is the opposite of being dead.

He decides that she’s dead, and lets out the already infamous manly scream of anguish.

It would be sad if it wasn’t that literally one second ago we saw her wounded but alive. Her turning out alive in the season finale or so will shock everyone. Nobody will have seen it coming. Who wrote this? They should have just shown the ringing phone and her bloody hand/side, making the audience assume she was dead, instead of showing her breathing. Now the audience is gonna assume she didn’t actually die, and wonder “why didn’t he call someone or went looking for her” but apparently Jared’s characters have forgotten that, like, ambulances are a thing. Jared’s manly screams of anguish are more important than common sense.

I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m not going to say anything about the manly scream of anguish. I’m n

We’re just 4 minutes in, guys. Why am I doing this?

Eleven months later, says the screen.

It’s night, outside a house. The son is waiting for him. The daughter doesn’t think he’s coming. On the porch there are two men, one is his brother and one is apparently his former partner, now new boss. He’s dressed like you’d expect a normal person to be dressed in a casual Texan night, hat and tie and all. If you are law enforcement in Texas and don’t wear a cowboy hat at any moment, you will be executed. That’s what the death penalty in Texas is for.

Somebody arrives, but to the kids’ disappointment is some dude whose function is to tell us the men’s names. The brother is Liam, the cop dude I forgot.

Walker is being sad on the back of his truck and drinking alcohol, which is the only way television can express a man having trauma. Holy shit - he reminisces of his wife like this is some emotional Lord of the Rings scene in a place where Elves live except this is not the Lord of the Rings and is just ridiculous, look

She’s seen running towards the gazebo, then she turns

This is exactly shot like the scene where Arwen has a vision of her son. Flowy hair and all. I cannot take this seriously.

He smiles sadly. Then a cop car arrives.

Mexican Lady Cop(TM), whose function in the story is to be a Mexican Lady Cop(TM) asks for his licence since he’s drinking alcohol in a public place.

“You ask so nicely” drunk Walker says. Ew. “Yeah, they train the girls special” Oh! Can you see? She is the Feminist Icon who Takes No Shit from the Dude! I’m so excited. I am slowly losing the will to live.

She drives him home on the police car. His legs don’t fit. At least this is realistic.

He does exposition in the car, including “I needed to visit a ghost instead”. There-there was no need to say it. What’s the demographic they’re aiming for? Five year olds? Do they have to spell everything out loud?

“It’s been a while since I had an actual conversation” he says, which supposedly explains why he’s making awkward exposition, but it’s just bad writing. At least they acknowledge it’s bad writing.

She figures he’s law enforcement coming back from an undercover mission from some drunken ramble he makes. This is worse than the Sherlock phone cable port thing.

She says she just got promoted from state trooper, ehe she will work with him wink wink nudge nudge. Is she going to be a cop-buddy-character slash love interest except when they’re almost about to realize they’re into each other, his wife comes back and draa~ama? I can already see it.

He goes home, makes some Jared grunts, and falls asleep on the couch.

Next morning, he goes out and jogs to where he left the truck. He puts on a cowboy hat which is supposed to be an artistic shot.

I’m slowly dying. He makes some Jared Deep Breaths, at least this made me laugh.

Wait, he’s now wearing a black hat. He’s in mourning, see? What.

He drives to his father’s ranch. His father is Super Not Impressed. It’s awkward. They took about horses. Mitch Pileggi is thinking that at least the other show was more exciting and there was Jensen Ackles in it.

He gets into his parents’ house and the dogs run to him, he does the Jared Dog Chuckle. He hugs his mom. He hugs his son - “August, my boy!” he says, like a normal person his age says.

He hugs his brother and they joke-wrestle and he says “I’m still the big brother” and did I mention I’m dying inside. I just can tell this is SUPPOSED to be reminiscent of Dean and Sam’s first meeting at Stanford in the pilot except Jared is the big brother now. Ew.

We learn that the brother is a DA and gay. All pilots suffer from Forced Exposition Syndrome but it’s like this isn’t even trying.

He goes to work and hugs (very manly hug of course) his friend-now-boss, who is called James. James asks him if he’s good and he’s like yeah I’m good, which our I’m Fine Lie Moment #1. Some things never change.

Enter the case of the week - a cop offered roadside assistance but he was assaulted. We’re already starting with a “Oh No Poor Cop :( Someone Doesn’t Like Cops And Gets Violent” plot. Yay.

Ta-da! Mexican Lady Cop appears, cowboy hat and all. James says she’s Walker’s new partner. My heart cries while Walker says “figured you’d be a guy” and she replies “so did my mom”. The feminism is so strong :’) She’s such a strong female character :’) I’m so happy :’)

Then Walker makes such a quintessential Jared thing with his mouth that I need to stop this here and take a break.

It’s been 13 minutes. So much still to go. I’m bored. Why am I doing this.

#cw's jared: legit texan #marghe watches walker for some darned reason

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danddymaro · 3 years ago

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Stubborn | Rohan Kishibe x Reader

Recap :

- Kira is Dead (LOL)

Josuke isn't massively fucked as he was in the last episode LMFAO. Basically, things went a LOT smoother here, with only one little exception.

Rohan admitting his feelings while almost losing his (F/n)

Character injury

Major change in story

Happy end , no worries

Warning : Not so much romanticism but it was an idea I've had. And we just need to get these drafts outta here.

A/N:

Thoughts are in italics and quotations // ‘ Example,’

Flashback are all in just Italics

Word count: 3451

Stubborn

Rohan glowered at the younger, limping male as he trudged his way closer to him and the woman that was gingerly held within his secure hold.

"You..." the emerald-eyed male sneered before tenderly easing the (h/c) haired female down, mindful not to bring her any more unneeded distress.

He was then quick to shoot back up, moving in long strides, advancing towards Josuke with no trace of the tenderness he'd held moments ago, but rather, maliciousness that itched over his features as he came face to face with the younger.

“ Stay back !” Rohan nearly roared, moving to stop the dark-haired teen from further advancing towards the hurt, (h/c) haired young woman as she lay injured on the concrete ground.

Jojo was then pushed back by a jut to the shoulder that was executed by a bloodied hand that stayed and had every intention in the world from letting him advance forward.

"Don't you dare come any closer Higashikata," Rohan huffed out with the same venom.

With glaring eyes, Josuke shoved the shaking man aside, quickly doing away with the sudden grip with his own vicious jerking motion, not willing to waste any more time with useless quarrels when it could be spent helping (f/n).

“ - You can't be freaking serious!” Jojo cried out in return while not holding back on the aggressive shove, "What are you doing?" He then proceeded to ask, his tone wavering in the slightest, struck by the elder man's opposition.

'- Don't you care about her?' He wondered with bared teeth, ' Doesn't it hurt you to see her like this?' He added, eyeing her beaten sight, all with threatening tears ready to path way onto his young, yet worn face.

“- I need to heal her”! He then declared as he reached out past the artist, all in spite of his determination to stand in opposition

‘Closer...I'm almost there... I'm almost there (f/n),’ Josuke thought to himself, knowing he was just centimeters away from his stand’s working range.

“ What you need to do is get the hell away from her!” Rohan retorted, still fighting back, and yet, throughout the entire time, he hadn't taken the liberty to look down at (f/n), instead, training his spite-filled green orbs eyes on the frantic teenager.

“I didn't ask for your help!” Kishibe added, his spite heightened as he reminded himself just why she'd been targeted.

‘If it weren’t for you…’ The mangaka thought to himself, glaring venomously at the other male. ‘If it weren’t for you.... this wouldn’t have happened…’ He thought with assurance.

'If she hadn't gone out of her way...all for you...' He then added with the same spite, his entire body trembling with fury.

"I'll get her out of here myself, And I don't need you to get in the way!" Kishibe added, soon hearing sirens in the distance as the paramedics approached.

"I don't need your help," He proceeded to speak lowly.

"- But she does," Josuke said back, sternness in his voice, "and I'm going to save her," he said with certainty, not wanting to have another loss on his hands.

"I didn't ask for your help," Rohan insisted, and the arrogant declaration stiffened the teen with silence. “Because if it weren't for you..." Rohan then repeated out loud, his sentence going unfinished before he continued with another line instead.

"....You should have just stayed away from her, ” he maundered, going ignored by Josuke as he wordlessly brought out his stand, the large humanoid being standing tall and just as determined as its wielder, who by then had a grasp on what the real issue was.

It only took the few uttered words prior to understand the true reason behind the elder male's actions, and it made him seethe with rage,

“ You're pathetic,” Josuke said below his breath, unable to look away from (f/n) as he spoke, doing just what the other man couldn't.

'Is that was this is about?' He wondered, 'That asshole...he can't just man up, can he?

- Not even for you,' He thought bitterly while gazing down at (f/n).

“I don't give a damn about what you want. And I could care less about that simple-minded pride of yours,” he went on, his voice rising as he finally took a chance to look back at the other male as he let crazy Diamond's power befall upon the female.

Cobalt met emerald, and in between the fierce gaze were unsaid words shot in between the two, whereas an understanding was made.

'- Try to stop me.' Josuke taunted Rohan with a tight toothed grit, his body standing rigid straight as his hands which were at his sides trembled with his withheld fury.

The younger's haggard breathing steadied for just a moment as he stood as strong as his convictions were, and the very sight made the other man that glared at him scorn.

“I despise you,” Kishibe hissed before a sharp gasp came from below, the little noise stealing his attention, his eyes finally trailing down to the female to watch as the shattered bits of her bones took form.

The endless flow of her cuts then closed, stopping the messy spill.

His expression then unscrunched from its frustrated sneer to melting relief as he saw her breathing begin to steady and afterward, a low, drawn-out breath left him as he saw her (e/c) colored eyes slowly flutter open, the lovely drops gradually adjusting to the light of the cloudy sky.

A small grunt emitted from (f/n) before her (e/c) colored eyes fell upon the teen kneeling before her. Her two hazy orbs then locked onto the concerned blues staring down at her,

'JoJo...it's you...' She thought with a wave of comfort that soon livened her.

And after the relief settled, she then surged with elation, " JoJo! " (f/n) said amidst bubbling joy, her arms immediately circling his neck, tightly holding him with a urgent need to feel him close.

" Jojo...you're ok," she said sweetly, soon crying into his neck.

Her face then pressed directly onto blood and grime, ignoring the filthy stench that clung to him as fiercely as she presently did.

'You're alive...' She thought with joy, knowing that, that was all that mattered.

"...But you’re all beat up," she sniffled afterward, grateful that even if he was injured, he was well enough to stand, enough to tend to her.

A weary chuckle then left her as she realized how fortunate they were to barely scrape by.

“Yeah,” he breathed while releasing the same breathy chortle she did, and instantaneously, his tensed body melted under her loving embrace, realizing that they had somehow gone against the odds, and he was thankful that it was all over.

" Glad your back...and just as cuddly as ever too," he then smiled, the palms of his hands laying on her back, bringing her close while he returned her affection, grateful that he had another moment with her to add to his memories.

'He would have taken you too...' Josuke thought while closing his eyes, ‘ He was so close to taking you...' He added while sniffling, grateful that Kira had left without claiming another innocent life.

Peeking out from over the healer's shoulder, (f/n) then caught sight of the mangaka, observing as his face twisted into frustration, and she wasn't certain if it was fueled by pain or anger.

She noticed he was bloodied too, but couldn't see from where the gore spilled from, and she wondered when he'd arrived.

She asked herself whether or not he'd made it during their fight and had been caught in between as well because he'd seemed to have gone through an entire battle himself.

'Rohan...why do you look so...troubled? So …Beaten?' She wondered with concern, not knowing that the scarlet color that had clung to him so passionately had come from her, unaware that the reason he'd become so tainted by the tint was because of how strongly he'd held her.

He kept her in his arms, his vibrant, green eyes dimmed with horror as he felt how much of her life oozed from her stilled, cooling body.

"(f/n)?" He said softly while gingerly cradling her in a nurturing demeanor that wasn't too difficult to comprehend because by then, any fool could see how much he cared about her.

By then, every bit of the hesitance he showed before was disregarded as he left himself bare, unable to face the situation with anything but the truth.

Swallowing thickly, he let out a soft, weary chuckle as he looked down at her, his thumb gently gliding over the running red that painted her lovely lips.

"...You've made your point already, " He murmured softly as he witnessed the flow of his sorrow trail down the sides of her paling face.

' I can't live without you. ' He mused while he sourly smiled.

"...You're my best friend." He openly admitted to her, the softness in his voice so tender, one would never believe it ever had the viciousness in it to convey his typical arrogance.

' And I don't want to lose you,' He thought while pressing his forehead to hers before huffing out three little words that had knotted in his throat before, but somehow, now found easy to utter in spite of the thickness that clotted his throat,

"I love you..." he huffed, closing his eyes tightly.

Gingerly, the hand that wasn't supporting her trailed over her bruised cheek before holding it,

'Why....Why was it so hard to say before?' he wondered with frustration. 'Why is it that now, now that I finally have it in me to say it...you can't even respond back,' he added, lamenting being so cold with her in the past.

"Can't you hear me?" he asked her softly.

It was then that each and every instance he'd shown her anything but welcome tormented him because he recognized that every second of those memories could have been filled with her smiles instead.

If he hadn't been so bullheaded, then maybe he would have let his pride go for a moment and tell her what he felt.

If he hadn't let her go hours before, then she wouldn't have been in the killer's sight.

If he'd just pulled her back into his home and told her that he wanted her to stay a moment longer, then the outcome would have been different.

"Now, please...just wake up," He compromised with her, " Please...?" He whispered faintly, his voice falling into silence as she stayed still, unstirred by his plea.

And as he continued to speak and beg, the white material of his clothes soaked in the infectious red, letting it creep through the fibers until every thread was replaced with the color of her fleeting life.

And it wasn't long before the murmurs of bargain he released were then drowned out by a familiar voice, and it was at that moment that all of his suffrage evolved into bitter resentment.

' Why do you insist on risking yourself for him...?' Rohan thought with bitterness, witnessing how willingly she leaned into the other male, and much more, how happy she was to see him.

'Don't you get it?' He continued to silently maunder, 'Don't you get that ...eventually...one day...he won't be able to heal you?' he added.

'In the end...he'll lose you too...'

"Rohan..." She breathed, slowly easing away from Josuke, offering him one last smile before her eyes found their entire focus drawn to the irritated male whose sight drew far from hers, finding the rubble of the street more his taste.

His lips were pressed together until his mouth formed a thin, firm line that wouldn't allow a single peep to escape.

'Do you remember any of it?' he then wondered, not knowing which one of his organs had it worse, his twisting stomach of his overworked heart.

Slowly, his face filled with red, and he lost his ability to gaze at her any longer without turning completely vermillion.

Before she could question his sudden fluster, a faint memory of a sweet, sorrowful murmur came forth, and it made her eyes grow wide.

With widely peeled (e/c) colored eyes she gazed at the dejected male before trudging her way to him, all while slowly functioning before happiness flooded her and filled her with giddiness.

'It was you...' She thought with a bursting heart, her hands both flying to her torso to press over her heaving chest.

"Rohan!" she said while suddenly leaping towards him, surprising him with the sudden pounce.

"Rohan! I..." swallowing down thickly she chuckled, hoping it wasn't a delusion of hers.

'I heard... I think I heard you,' She thought with a heavy heart. ' I think that … we feel the same...' She mused while she felt his arms tightly wrapped around her.

She took the risk and pressed her lips to his, quickly discovering that she was accepted by the simple ease he displayed while melted along with her.

As Josuke watched, he took notice of the embrace they shared, observing the longing glow in Rohan’s eyes before they shut tight, taking in the way his hands held her, almost as though there was nothing more precious to him as she was.

"Of all people..." Josuke started, slowly shaking his head at the young woman, unsure of what to tell her, deciding to go with what was most obvious, and could basically sum it all up,

"Rohan...That guy...he's just insufferable," he mumbled lowly, and it made (f/n) giggle.

Rather than be insulted, the young smiled instead,

"He is, isn't he?" She admitted, unable to count all the times the man had made her fume, because, truth be told, he got under her skin more than anyone else could.

"He's insufferable, and kind of full of himself, and don't forget that he can be a real jerk too," She added while looking up at the bright sky.

"He's all of those things," she admitted while continuing to beam, acknowledging Rohan's worst points and accepting them.

"- But he's also sweet," She informed the Joestar descendent.

"When you ask him something, he might say no," She reminded him, " But for the most part, he'll give in, with almost no fight, just an annoyed, little sigh that makes it seem as though he could be doing better things when in reality it's all a front," She informed the listening male.

"It's all a front so you won't see how eager he is to please everyone," She explained.

" And it doesn't come from insecurity," She quickly added with certainty.

"It's not that he wants to be loved by everyone, or needs their validation," She further explained, making certain he grasped the reasoning behind the other man's actions.

"He's just...Well, he just wants to have all the answers, which in turn will help everyone he loves, and cares about, and that is including you." She spoke, and during the last bit, Josuke scoffed.

" He can't stand me!" he said with certainty, " But it's not like I care !" He quickly added. "'Cause it's not like I like the guy either, So it doesn't bother me one bit, " he added with a huff, crossing his arms while trying to seem indifferent.

"You've gotten the best out of him." she started, " - More than once," She then added with sagging shoulders.

"To him, you're a rival. No matter what he says, you're on par with him. And the small admiration he has for you is flushed within that stupid arrogance of his." she sighed, wishing it wasn't so.

"He's just such a sore loser, and what's much worse, he hates having depts., because it means that he's somehow failed," she added, falling into the root of the problem.

"He might seem like he hates you, but if anything were to happen to you, he'd be concerned, " She revealed. "Because, Morioh is his home, and he knows that if anyone is capable of protecting it, it's you," she said while gazing at him with trust, setting the same trust on the youth.

"He wants to be the one to do it...and in his own way he does, but he's well aware that when it comes down to it, you have the strength he lacks," (f/n) continued on.

"He detests it...but at the same time... he's so grateful." She said with amusement, remembering that the only reason she'd come to the conclusion was because Rohan had let just a bit too much of the truth slip out during their talks.

"He seems difficult to understand, but, that's just because you think about it too much. He's not so complex. He's just a bit eccentric and weird, " She said with assurance.

"And weaved within all that strange nature is a good person." She added with a grand smile.

"You could write a whole book on him, huh?" Josuke teased, and she took it in with a bright glow, hanging her head afterward,

"It'd just be a long love letter," She said while grinning stupidly, it being something Josuke threw his head back at.

He laughed, openly teasing her, but silently admiring her at the same time.

'That's what I want,' he then mused.

'Someone like that.

Someone that dedicated.

Someone that's willing to understand me,' He thought while praising the young woman, hoping he'll be lucky enough to have someone as comprehensive and sweet as her one day.

In a sense, it reminded him of his mother and the sweet way she always expressed herself about Joseph Joestar. Granted, the situation hadn't been ideal, but he always smiled when his mom showed her tender side as she recalled the love she still held onto.

Josuke was well aware of how much she'd suffered, but when he'd asked her if she could change it all, she never changed her answer.

She always chose to relive it all, and Josuke accepted it, compromising with himself that even if it ended up in suffrage, he'd be willing to cherish every moment he had with the one person that could give him that same love and understanding.

' That idiot...' Josuke thought to himself, unable to understand how Rohan couldn't see the way her eyes glowed when she looked at him.

'That giant idiot,' He added, feeling insulted on the young woman's behalf whenever the other man showed jealousy towards their friendship, one that he never had any intention to morph into anything else, because it wasn't necessary.

And (f/n) would never dream of it either.

' Isn't it obvious?' He wondered, '(f/n) doesn't see anyone but you, just like, sometimes, you can't see a damn thing besides her,' He added.

For just a split second the two men aligned their eyes together, yet again lively green and bright blue met, though, with a different message sent in between, and it was almost amiable.

The artist's hand held the young woman's, tightly grasping it as he pulled her along before they both stood before the teen.

"Josuke...Higashikata," Rohan said lowly, uttering the name with the same disdain as always,

"You won't hear this from me ever again, " he started before quickly looking back at the darling woman for a quick charge up in inspiration.

"But..." He started, all while still eyeing (f/n), " Thank you." he breathed, trying to keep his face stern, though faltering as he remembered the pitiful state the female had been in moments ago.

"Thank you for healing her," He said with true gratefulness before looking back at the other male.

At a loss for words, Josuke stayed silent before nodding quickly,

'Sure, ' he silently added because he was left blubbering and flustered, having no chance for recovery before Rohan retreated, leaving with the young woman close behind him.

She looked back at him with a halfhearted smile, partially apologizing for not staying any longer, and somewhat sheepish for simply walking away with the other man while Josuke was still injured himself.

But, the Joestar descendent didn’t mind in the least bit.

Granted, Rohan Kishibe wasn't his favorite person in the world, but he made his friend happy, and after the shitty day they'd had, Jojo wasn't going to insist to have her stay with him instead for what was just a couple of stitches he needed.

He then walked over the sidewalk, moving towards a more comfortable spot on the grass to lay on as he heard the blaring sirens ring louder.

With a smile, he looked up at the Morioh sky, and he smiled, grateful that the bizarre summer of 1999 was finally over with.

90 notes · View notes

jincherie · 4 years ago

Text

sunshine riptide | ot7

— COMMISSION —

⊙ — pairing: ot7 x reader ⊙ — genre: hybrid au, fluff, comfort, found family, ac inspired ⊙ — wc: 13.8k+ ⊙ — warnings: oc has an almost/light anxiety attack towards the end. there is no explicitly mentioned trigger and it isn’t dwelled on for long, but better to let u guys know! ⊙ — notes: here it is! it’s soft, and warm, and I hope that it can be something to cheer up a little bit those who aren’t having such a good day. i love u all, and I hope you like this piece :) to the commissioner, thank you for allowing me to write this and I truly hope it helps you feel even just a little bit better! <3

Moving to this island whose inhabitants are mostly hybrids was a bit of an impulse decision, something you did with empty pockets barely a cent to your name. Thanks to the kindness of the island’s ‘mayor’ you have a place to stay, the last spare room in a sharehouse with seven hybrids, and for three months he will pay your rent in exchange for you to work in his shop until you are back on your feet. It’s a sweet deal, but when you begin to get along better than expected with your housemates and the deadline for your departure looms ever closer, you’re not sure you’re going to be able to make yourself leave when the time comes.

— posted; 06.09.2020 | masterlist

“So in exchange for three months paid stay on the island while you get back on your feet, you will work part-time at the Rabbits Den three days a week, and man the desk in the Resident Services Building on Sundays. Is that okay to you?”

You nod eagerly, the ordeal seeming too good to be true and something you’re afraid will be retracted if you don’t act with haste. Mr Bang returns your motion with a little less fervour, the same kind look never leaving his face.

“Perfect, it’s settled then! We’re glad to have you with us, y/n.”

Something lifts from your chest in that moment, as though you’d been walking beneath the cover of a lead blanket and it has finally slipped from your shoulders. You feel a little breathless, and you know the grin that slips onto your face is stupidly wide. Embarrassingly, you feel salty pricks at the corner of your eyes.

“Thank you so much,” you say, and you mean it. It hadn’t exactly been a well thought out plan, moving here with nothing to your name but your most basic possessions, but you’d just needed to escape and start anew and this… this had been the first opportunity you’d seen. The best opportunity you’d seen. “Really, thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, young lady.” Mr Bang’s expression grows even softer, if possible. “This is a place people come to find refuge, and happiness. You’re welcome here.”

You clear your throat, turning your head to the side and pretending that you need to cough so he doesn’t see the tear that slips out. You have a feeling he knows, though, as you turn back and find him smiling at you, floppy rabbit ears framing his round face. He reaches out, patting you on the shoulder.

“Now, lets find you a room for the night. I’ll send word to the house I have in mind and make sure they have it nice and tidy before your arrival tomorrow. Sound good?”

It hits you only now how tired you are, more emotionally exhausted than anything, and nod while allowing him to lead you down the hall. That does sound good, actually. That sounds amazing.

O – O – O

You’d arrived on this island in the early hours of the morning yesterday, the late-night ferry the only one that runs to this island on the outskirts of the archipelago. It’s likely due to the fact that the captain is a nocturnal hybrid, and hence prefers to run his business under the cover of night. You hadn’t been able to sleep on the trip over, so when Mr Bang had shown you to the room he was happy to lend you for the night, despite it being barely ten o’clock in the morning you’d passed out the second your head hit the pillow. It was more of a nap than anything, but you suspect that the events of the past few months all caught up to you at once because you woke only for dinner and then fell asleep once more. Mr Bang offered no judgement, and simply left a note instructing you where the bathroom is and where you could find towels so that you could freshen up once you awoke. He also left you a coffee bun in a container, since you’d missed the afternoon tea he held the day before.

You hadn’t even been on this island a day and already the kindness of one of the residents was almost bringing you to tears.

Due to the fact that you’d slept far too early, you end up waking up at an ungodly hour the next day, the day you are meant to be moving in to the sharehouse that Mr Bang told you about. Laying in the bed, nestled in the warmth of the covers and watching as the suns rays slowly begin to stain the ceiling and the curtains in rich marigold, you do your best to get yourself together. You can breathe easy now, any anxiety you’d felt previous now nothing more than an echo in your chest. You feel refreshed, and not just from the ridiculous amount of sleep you’ve had in the past twenty-four hours. There are of course some nerves pertaining to meeting your new housemates, but it’s manageable. You have faith that everything will turn out well. It’s a good feeling.

Mr Bang is kind enough to offer you breakfast, and likely would have pushed you to stay for lunch had you not shown up down the stairs with your baggage already in tow. So begrudgingly, he allows you to head on your way, informing you that your new housemates knew of your arrival and had endeavoured to tidy up as much as possible. You thought it was a little funny he was telling you that—just how messy is the house usually?—but he simply shook his head with a smile that told you the answer would come soon enough.

The island isn’t big, but it most definitely isn’t small. The sun is warm and the air cool with a tinge of salt and sea trailing along the breeze, and the path you walk along that skirts the beach is peppered with sand and the odd shell. It makes you happier than anticipated, because just being out here makes you feel so free. Mr Bang told you that the house where you will be staying is on the other side of the island, past the little cluster of shops and small businesses and perched at the edge of the sand, backing onto a river that flows into the ocean and skirted on one side by a small cliff.

“It’s their own little alcove,” Mr Bang had snorted, a mixture of fondness and amusement evident on his features. “They get up to more trouble than I can keep track of over there, but they’re good boys.”

Ah, that’s right. You’d almost forgotten; your new housemates are a bunch of boys. You hope that Mr Bang is right about their character and you won’t be living in discomfort for the next three months.

The path wound and curved a bit, following the edge of the island, and before long you were walking through a section of light forestry. You suspected the house would be on the other side, and were in the midst of thinking just what it would look like when a small squeak! catches your attention and you halt, almost dropping your bag.

It’s silent, save for the way the breeze caresses the leaves around you. You peer around, eyes unable to spot anything in the foliage. Did you imagine it? It’s a little early in your stay to be going crazy. Hesitantly, you adjust your grip on your bag and resume your trek.

Squeak! S-squeeeak!

No, you definitely heard that. You freeze, having gotten a better sense of where the sound is coming from now and turning towards a large tree smothered in vines of varying thickness and clinginess. For a moment, you don’t see anything, eyes squinting hard—it’s like one of those I spy books you used to rave about as a kid— and just when you think you might be looking in the wrong place, you catch movement.

There, in a cluster of the vines dangling from one of the tree’s thicker limbs, is a tiny creature, all tangled up and squeaking in distress.

“Oh my goodness,” you drop your bag, immediately moving closer. “Poor thing—hold on just a second, bub. I’ll get you out. Promise not to bite me?”

The creature offers a squeak and logically you know it isn’t answering your request, but you pretend it is anyway. Carefully stepping over plants and twigs, thanking past you for wearing more practical boots, you reach where the creature is stuck, dangling just below eye level.

The vines it has managed to get all tangled up in aren’t particularly thick, but there are a lot of them, and it has managed to get a few of its limbs stuck in place. Carefully, you snap a few of the more central ones and ease the tiny thing out, getting a better view of it the more you pull from its body. It’s squeaking all the while, though with much less distress and more of an energy that simply feels chatty. It makes you smile.

“There you go,” you murmur, cradling the tiny baby in your palms and cooing, trying to calm the heartbeat and hurried breaths you can feel racing against your skin. You stroke along its back as lightly as you can manage. “Oh, you’re a little sugar glider! You’re so pretty, such a cutie. Look at your markings, wow… so pretty.”

Almost as though it can understand your praise and is basking in it, it flicks its bushy tail and rolls in your palm, like a cat rubbing against something with its cheek except this little glider is doing it with its whole body. It’s awfully friendly, you note. Perhaps much of the wildlife here is more peacefully accustomed to human and hybrid activity.

“Okay, you’re free now. I’ll stop ogling at you and let you go,” you say, holding your hands up to a part of the tree that isn’t covered in vines lest there be a repeat of the earlier situation. The sugar glider merely blinks, eyes still on you, and doesn’t move. Brows drawn in confusion, you move your hands closer to the tree, “Well, aren’t you going to—oh!”

Faster than you can react, the little thing darts from your hands, leaping to your bicep and scurrying up with tiny claws in your shirt to your shoulder. Once at its apparent destination, it rushes to the crook of your neck and makes itself at home, nestling against you and securing itself with its tail partway around the back of your neck and its little paws clutching your shirt edge. You giggle, still in shock and trying not to jostle it off as you fight the ticklish sensation.

“Okay. I guess you can come with me. I’m not sure if you can stay the whole while, but I’m sure it will be okay while I walk.”

So off you go, bending and retrieving your bag carefully so you don’t dislodge your tiny new companion. You’ve seen a bit of sugar gliders, but the way this one is acting is quite peculiar. If it sticks around until you arrive at the house, you’d love to snap a quick picture because it really is so pretty, so cute.

The trip is faster than anticipated, now there is something else to occupy your thoughts. Before you know it you’re out of the forestry and approaching a large, modern three storey building that is probably just a few yards short of a mansion, nestled between the ocean, the river, and a short cliff-face just barely higher than the roof. This is the place for sure.

The little glider seems to perk up, the closer you get, something that surprises you since it was so quiet you thought it was asleep. With a soft noise, it grabs onto your hair with tiny paws and scurries to the top of your head, likely making a mess of it in the process but it’s so cute you can’t bring yourself to mind. At least it will be an interesting first impression.

As you approach the front door, you think you see movement in one of the windows on the ground floor. You almost dismiss it as you reach the eve, until you catch the hurried patter of feet against hardwood from beyond the door.

You barely manage to blink before the door is flying open, a man with raven curls and two fluffy russet ears peeking between the locks presenting you with the biggest grin you have ever seen on anyone’s face. It’s boyish and cute, a direct contrast to the mature, sculpted features of his face.

“Hello!” he says, and you catch sight of a long, fluffy russet tail whipping behind him and betraying his excitement—not that he was doing much to hide it. “You must be the new roomie! It’s nice to meet you! We’ve been waiting all morning, and one of us actually went to pick you up but… I’m not sure where he is.”

You’re a little overwhelmed but easily recover when he simply keeps looking at you so happily, returning the man’s bright smile. There’s rustling in your hair at the back of your head but you ignore it, adjusting your grasp on your bag. “Ah, thank you. I’m y/n, it’s nice to meet you…?”

The man pulls back, a sheepish look on his face that accompanies a light flush in his cheeks. “Oh, right. I’m Taehyung. Sorry. My hyungs tell me I tend to get a bit ahead of myself sometimes.”

You keep the smile on your face. “That’s okay, we got there in the end. It’s nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

Taehyung brightens, tail curling happily behind him. He opens his mouth to say something, but is interrupted from a voice to the side.

“Are you going to make our poor new housemate wait outside all day, Tae?”

The light blush colouring Taehyung’s cheeks deepens, a sheepish laugh escaping. “No. I was just about to invite her in!”

He steps back and reveals the person behind him who had spoken, a tall man with dimples and silvery hair that did little to conceal the large, rounded grey ears atop his head. He seems a little awkward in his stance, like he has more body than he knows what to do with, but still extends an arm in greeting with a kind smile. “y/n, is it? Welcome, please come in. I hope you’ll enjoy your stay here with us, however brief. We’re happy to have you.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry! If you cry now you can never show your face here again. You clear your throat, returning his smile as you step inside and out of the sun, the difference in temperature against your skin immediate. “Thank you, I really appreciate your generosity in letting me stay here.”

“Nonsense,” Taehyung snorts, “Namjoon-hyung has been saying for months we should find someone to fill the spare room, and now you show up on our doorstep! It’s perfect.”

The taller, who Taehyung had referenced as Namjoon, seems a little bashful, his cheeks heating. Does everyone in this house blush so easily? You hope it’s not contagious.

There is movement in your hair again, the glider apparently needing to breathe, and you have your mouth open ready to explain when Namjoon beats you to it.

“Oh, I see you’ve met Jimin already!”

What?

The glider leaps from your head and onto Taehyung’s outstretched arm, climbing to his head before leaping from that too and gliding through the air, all the way around the corner. There is a small clutter, the sound of a light swearword entering the air, and then the ever-familiar patter of feet against hardwood. Another boy rounds the corner, ashy-blond hair tousled and parted by two small grey ears, bushy tail curling behind him.

He skids to a stop in front of you, dipping in a brief bow before rising and shooting you a bright smile. “Hello! Thank you for helping me! I’m Jimin, welcome home!”

It takes all of your willpower to keep the happy tears at bay as you tilt your head back and laugh, already feeling lighter than you ever remember feeling before.

O – O – O

Your next introductions to the hybrids you will be sharing your home with for the next three months go much smoother and without as many surprises as the last ones. Jimin, who seems to have warmed up to you quickly, was more than happy to take you on a tour of the house and to go through introductions while he was at it. He happily told you who was what hybrid as well, without you asking. You figured that he realised your underperforming human nose wouldn’t be able to tell, so he took the initiative and you’re thankful for it, because you were curious.

The oldest resident of the house is Seokjin, a red-panda hybrid who goes on a spree of stress-baking every time exam season rolls around. Most of the hybrids study online, as you learnt from Jimin’s excited chattering. The second you met Jin, as he preferred to be called, you were stunned at how handsome he was. Of course, any awe that rooted you to the spot quickly dissipated as he said a joke so painfully funny it left you with whiplash between the urge to roll your eyes and guffaw. You like him, though. He’s nice.

You quickly discover that all the inhabitants of this house are, though. Yoongi is the second oldest and a squirrel glider hybrid—something Jimin said he found funny since he was closest to Jimin, a sugar glider, and Hoseok, the third oldest and a sunny squirrel hybrid. He giggled as he told you, and you couldn’t hide your own smile even as Yoongi’s ear had flicked and he’d shot the two of you a suspicious look. The little fun fact Jimin had told you about Yoongi had taken you by surprise; he remotely operates the island’s radio, many of the tunes ones he has created himself. Often, if there is a festival, he will volunteer his time to work the music jobs there, too. Apparently Namjoon also pitches in, and Hoseok when he has free time outside of the classes he teaches on the other side of the island.

Hoseok is a dancer, Jimin had gushed, and while he teaches at the school part time, he also volunteers time outside of that to hold dance classes for the kids. Jimin told you that he joins occasionally, but less often lately since his workload for university has increased. He did tell you, though, that the youngest of the house had all but taken his place, his youthful heart at home mucking around with kids and helping them learn.

Jungkook is his name, and Jimin informed you with a very fond and very amused look that he is rather shy, so you might not see him for a few days. Apparently it had been uttered just loud enough for the hybrid in question to catch it though, because there was a tumbling sound from the floor above and a series of stomping footsteps. A head of long, wavy inky hair had popped over the railing, grey ears pinned back as a baby-faced boy delivered a glare to the blonde to your side.

“Hyung! That’s not true! I’m not too shy to even introduce myself!” he had defended himself avidly, red-faced and huffy. When his eyes turned to you, mouth open to follow through on his words, he abruptly shrank and all that escaped was a squeak. It took him a moment to conjure speech once more, and this time he was noticeably less bold. “I’m—I’m Jungkook! It’s nice to meet you! I have to go now! Goodbye!”

And then he was gone, and so concluded your final introduction to the residents you had yet to meet. You thought you had a good feeling when you first arrived, but now that you’ve met everyone and everything feels that bit more real, you find yourself thinking…

It’s a really good feeling.

O – O – O

“It’s not what it looks like!”

You raise a brow, book in hand as you stand at the edge of the sand bank where green bleeds into gold. Against your heels is cool grass, and your toes are dipped in the gentle warmth of the sand. Namjoon sits in front of you, beneath a tree protruding from the dune, with a bundle of leaves in his hand and a guilty look in his face.

“Isn’t eucalyptus toxic to humans and hybrids?”

“I’m not eating it!” Namjoon waves his hands in a frantic bid to assure you, eyes wide, and almost drops the leaves in question. His large, grey ears flick in his distress. “I was just… I know I can’t eat it but it smells so good… I was just sniffing it. It calms me.”

You let out a light laugh, walking closer and plopping down on the sand beside him, beneath the generous shade the tree offers. The sea breeze is kind and cools your skin where it smarts from the sun, tickling your neck and manipulating your hair into a tumbleweed. Namjoon snorts, helping you get it back in order.

“No judgement,” you say, crossing your legs and placing your book in your lap for the meantime. “Just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t have to take you to a hospital, because I do not know where to find one on this island.”

Namjoon grins, rosy cheeks complimenting his skin the way it glows gold in the sun’s glare. “You’d drag little ol’ me all the way to the hospital if you knew where it was?”

“Well, yeah,” you laugh, sifting sand through your fingers as you relish the sound of waves crashing barely a yard away. It’s so peaceful, you feel so at peace. “Since none of you seem to know what a car is.”

“We had a car,” Namjoon admits, face flushing violently as he averts his gaze, turning his head. “There was just, um, an unfortunate incident… that may have involved a tree, or two…”

You decide not to probe further, lest your current good impression of Namjoon come under threat. A beat of silence passes, before Namjoon shuffles, placing the bundle of leaves back on the grass. He angles his body a little more towards you, sniffing subtly.

“So… how is your stay so far? Is everything going okay?”

You can’t hide the expression of surprise that makes its way to your face as you turn to him, blinking. You don’t know what you were expecting, but for some reason it hadn’t been that. It’s awfully nice of him.

You’ve been on the island almost a week now. The interactions you’ve had with your housemates so far, though not too bountiful, have all been pleasant, and you genuinely have nothing to complain about. You haven’t seen much of Jungkook, Hoseok, or Yoongi—but that mostly comes down to incompatible work hours and commitments. Mr Bang’s nephews run the Rabbit’s Den, the local convenience store that occasionally hosts a few exotic goods, and they have been nothing short of helpful, polite, and friendly while you worked there. You have worked a single shift at the Resident Services Building too, and it was pretty chill. A few residents came in, happily introduced themselves to you, and then you helped them with whatever had warranted their visit. All in all, your stay has been amazing so far.

“It’s been good,” you say, and it feels so nice to have the words escaping your mouth be true to the warmth in your chest. “Everyone here is super nice. It does feel a bit odd though, sometimes I feel like I’m the only human here.”

“Oh, yeah. You are,” Namjoon huffs an amused laugh. “You’re the first human Mr Bang has allowed on this island.”

Your surprise is evident, and it makes him smile when he turns his head to give you a sly look. “He must have had a good feeling about you. Rabbit hybrids tend to rely a lot on their gut feelings and intuition.”

“Oh,” you say, cheeks warming. Well, you’re glad he had decided to let you in. You say as much to Namjoon, and he smiles brightly at you.

“We’re glad he decided to let you in, too.”

You’re not sure what to say to that, a little embarrassed from the unexpectedness of it—was he really telling the truth? You’d hardly spent any time with some of your other housemates…

A calm silence begins to settle between you, and you take the time to open your book and resume where you left off. You get so carried away reading that when you finally look up some time later, the sight to your side almost makes you gasp.

Namjoon had, at some point, fallen asleep in a little patch of sunlight that manage to pierce through the foliage—in the place of the large, long-limbed man you had been talking to is now a considerably smaller fluffy koala, sitting upright and snoozing lightly. You suspect this isn’t the most ideal position for him to be sleeping in, though, because every few moments he will sway on the spot, almost tipping but not quite going far enough to have an abrupt meeting with the sand.

You coo, unable to help it, but the sound quickly grows alarmed when he leans too far—before you can think your arms shoot out to hold him up, but it seems there is something true to what is said about koalas being clingy because the second he feels something touch him, koala Namjoon clings.

You squeak, a fully-grown koala now wrapped around your forearm. Slowly, you bring it closer to you (feeling your bicep burn all the while because damn is he heavier than he looks!), planning to use your other hand to ease him off, but it seems that the second you’re close enough he can sense your warmth and he wants in. You sit, exasperated and amused, with a koala now latched to your midriff, arm forgotten. Both your hands are now free, but at what cost?

You figure that he’ll probably let go when he wakes up, or he might fall back into the sand in his sleep, but until then you resign yourself to unexpected but definitely not unwelcome koala cuddles. You just hope he won’t be too embarrassed when he wakes up; you can already see him stuttering and going red in your mind’s eye. It brings a chuckle to your lips, and with a smile on your face you return to your book once more, a little more content than before.

O – O – O

It’s been a while since you’ve had to deal with the dreams.

Usually, once they start you can wake yourself up, or you can manage to turn them around if they’re one you’ve had before. But some nights, when the dreams come, you’re helpless but to see them play out. Sometimes they’re not that bad, but even the milder ones leave you with a nauseous ball of anxiety beneath your lungs and a feeling of discomfort that digs claws deep in your bones.

About three weeks into your stay, you wake up after one such dream, a cursory glance to your phone and the painful glare of its screen revealing it to be the early hours of the morning. For a moment you simply lay, blinking, with your gaze rooted on the ceiling. You had strung up some fairy lights around your dresser, and on the plaster above you the soft colourful rainbow of their hue meshes and blends with the cool pools of moonlight slipping through your curtains.

Absently, and with a sense of resignation that you feel in your bones, you strip the cover back and climb out of bed, deciding you may as well grab some water since you’re likely not going to be able to fall asleep very easily anytime soon.

As you make your way through the levels to the ground floor where the kitchen resides, you’re careful to be as quiet as possible—you’re not sure how successful your effort is but you do know that quite a few of your housemates have been inundated with coursework lately and you don’t want to disturb any of the valuable rest they need so badly. Jimin had looked so wiped out yesterday that you’d literally had to pull him away from the dishes and send him to bed. He complained on the way, but as soon as his head hit his pillow he was out, leaving you in a mixture of awe and concern. He explained as soon as he woke the next morning that he had been up all night completing an assignment, and it made you realise just how exhausted a lot of your roommates seem lately. You hope this period passes soon for them; you may not have been here long but you have grown to care for them and you don’t like seeing them so unwell.

You’re just pondering this when you reach the ground floor and venture into the kitchen, thoughts and feet coming to an abrupt stop as you take in the sight that greets you there.

Seokjin is standing by the bench, hands moving slowly as he puts something together just out of your view. A quick survey of the rest of the countertop tells you that he’s making lunches, and while ordinarily this would touch your heart (as it does every time you see how each of the hybrids in this house cares for each other), this time you’re overcome with a strong wave of concern.

Delicately put, Seokjin looks dead on his feet.

Every few moments his head bobs down, chin almost hitting his chest before he jerks awake just long enough to lift his head, before the cycle repeats once more. He looks so exhausted you’re impressed he managed to make as many lunches as he did. Though, from the looks of it he’s only about halfway through.

“Hey, Seokjin… are you okay?”

The hybrid jumps, the startle you gave him probably rendering him more awake than he has been in a few hours.

“Wh—what are you doing awake?” he sputters, having to lean against the bench so that he doesn’t fall over. “It’s almost midnight!”

You can’t help the look you give him, a mixture between amusement and concern. “Um… it’s a little past midnight actually… probably closer to two… are you alright?”

Seokjin blinks at you for a second while your words sink in, before he sags with a light groan, bringing a hand up to scrub at his eyes.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, voice thick with sleepiness. His bushy, striped tail sways behind him before curling around his thigh. “I’m just… kind of wiped out. I was up finishing a part of a really big assessment piece and it took longer than I thought… I was going to go to bed but then I remembered that I hadn’t prepared the boys’ lunches, and I always do that, so I came down here and…”

He makes a great, sweeping gesture over the mess on the bench, a result of his patchy attention. A huff of laughter escapes him. “Yeah.”

“I’m glad you finished your piece, but… do you really have to make their lunches? I think you should probably get some sleep…”

You were a little worried he might take your words the wrong way, but you can tell from the serene expression on his face that he doesn’t. “I always do it. If I don’t, then they might worry about me, and I don’t want them to worry about me when they should spend that energy worrying about themselves. Plus, I don’t know if I’d be able to sleep if I knew they weren’t done.”

You return his amused smile, taking a step closer and willing yourself to speak the idea that had come to mind.

“Well, considering I found you almost sleeping on the spot when I came down, I think you should probably call it a night and get some rest. I’d be happy to finish up and make sure the lunches are done, if you’d like?”

You can see the resistance immediately, the tall man opening his mouth to refuse—but he halts, and for a moment slips into his own thoughts. Sensing that he just needs a little push, you continue, “If you tell me what you usually make, I should be able to finish the rest of them without too much trouble.”

He blinks, and in that moment you see the rest of his exhaustion flood to the surface. He sniffles, unable to fight the yawn that rises. “… Okay. If that’s really alright with you…?”

You laugh, reaching to bump Seokjin’s side. “Of course it is. I don’t mind at all, especially if it means you’ll go to sleep in your bed and not on the kitchen floor. Now, what do you normally make…?”

Letting out a soft laugh, Seokjin does his best to stay awake long enough to instruct you on what he makes and how he makes it for the remaining members of the household. You can’t help but notice throughout his explanation that he doesn’t seem to make lunch for himself despite making it for everyone else, and as he finally plods off to bed and passes out, you make the decision that you’re going to make some lunch for him too. It takes you a brief google search on the diet of red pandas and their hybrid counterparts, as well and recalling what you know of Seokjin’s taste in food, but it doesn’t take you too long to decide on what to make. You work through the lunches one by one, grateful for the distraction, and complete the task fully when Seokjin’s sits primly next to the rest. You pile them all into the fridge, washing your hands again before grabbing the water you originally came down for, and then you’re making the trip back upstairs to your own bed, a soft smile on your face and a warm satisfaction curling around your lungs. You fall asleep easier than expected for a night where you had one of those dreams, but there most definitely aren’t any complaints to be found as you drift off with a faint smile on your lips.

The next day, it’s only a little before midday when Seokjin finally rises from his slumber and makes his way downstairs. Blearily, he reaches the kitchen and heads straight to the fridge, attempting to think through his sleep-addled brain what he should make for lunch. Those thoughts are interrupted as he catches sight of a box he hasn’t seen outside of the little tupperware cupboard by the stove in ages sitting on the middle shelf, a little paper tag with ‘for Seokjin’ scribbled onto it perched on top.

He pulls it out and places it on the bench, staring in confusion. It takes him an embarrassingly long time to kick his limbs into gear and open it, but from that point on the realisation comes quickly with the memory of last night.

You’d gone and made lunch for him, too. And from the looks of it, you’d paid great attention to what to include.

His stomach rumbles violently as he takes in the sight of berries and the bamboo shoots he usually stores in the fridge that you must have taken the time to boil and season. There is a sandwich in there as well but he doesn’t need to check whether he will like it because he can already smell the salmon.

He doesn’t know what to think, or really what to say. He knows he’s just lucky you’ve already gone to work at the Rabbit’s Den because otherwise you would probably be here and risk seeing his eyes tear up a little.

A side effect from being sleepy and stressed is the dramatics, he knows, but still… he can’t help but notice the warm feeling that lingers in his stomach when he thinks of how nice you are to do such a thing.

O—O—O

“You’re gonna love it when we get there, y/n! It’s so pretty, and there’s so much fruit… I’m going to feast.”

You can’t help but let out a laugh, thoroughly enjoying the company of your two housemates and the combination of cool breeze and warm sunlight the air offers as they kiss your skin. It’s earlier in the morning than you tend to wake up, but you’ve been invited out on an exclusive adventure and you aren’t in any position to say no. For the past few weeks you’ve noticed that on a Saturday and Sunday morning, Taehyung tends to disappear. You don’t know where, and each time you saw him again you forgot to ask, but finally the opportunity had arisen for you to sate your curiosity. Happily, the lemur hybrid had informed you that there is a small section of the island towards the north that is absolutely packed with trees, bushes and otherwise, all peppered with ripe fruit. Some days he goes to tend to them, but on the weekends he confessed to you that he normally goes to harvest the literal fruits of his labour.

“Just don’t eat all of the tamarind again, Jiminie, or I will have to kill you myself.”

Jimin lets out a loud laugh, stumbling in his gait for a moment from the force of it. “Yessir! Understood, sir!”

Taehyung’s lips quirk into a smile, and he returns his gaze to the front to continue marching ahead and leading the two of you to his secret spot. You adjust your hold on the woven bag over your shoulder, brushing away some of the more unruly strands of hair that have made their way across your face by riding on the breeze.

“Thanks again for inviting me, Tae,” you say, unable to hide the skip in your step as you plod along after them, smiling brightly. “I’ve been wanting to explore more—it feels wrong that I’ve been here for a month and barely seen everything there is to see.”

Taehyung spins to flash you a beaming grin over his shoulder, ears flicking and tail curling happily. “Of course, it’s no problem! I did wonder if you’d like to come some time, so I’m glad you mentioned it the other day.”

Jimin gasps, the sound somewhere between playful and affronted. “You asked her yourself to come?! I had to beg for weeks! Weeks!”

“I told you, the fruit weren’t done when you first asked!” Taehyung whines, reaching back and pausing in his steps just long enough to whack Jimin on the shoulder. “You just didn’t listen!”

“I’m baby,” Jimin says, whether in affirmation or explanation you’re not sure. It manages to tear a laugh from Taehyung either way, and you’re no different.

You’re not left stewing in anticipation for long; before you know it you’re broaching the place that Taehyung and Jimin speak so highly of. Rounding a corner, you come across a large grove that ends beyond what your eyes can see—some trees curl and wind, others stand straight and proud with their roots covered modestly with smaller shrubbery. Vines cling and string around some trunks, but the one thing all of the flora in front of you has in common is that they’re all ripe with fruit, ready to be picked.

“Oh wow,” you remark, barely aware you’ve even said anything. A deep laugh sounds from beside you and you turn to see Taehyung grinning brightly, tail curling happily behind him and his little ears flicking with glee.

“Pretty, right? Some of these were already growing here when I found it, like the apples, but the rest of it I planted over time. I’m proud of how it’s turned out.”

“You should be!” you exclaim, pointing to the fruit displayed in the very image of temptation before you all. “Dude, they look delicious.”

“They are!” Jimin chimes in, flitting past you and snagging his finger in your sleeve as he goes to drag you along. “Come on, there’s a mulberry tree up the back and it has the juiciest berries. We have to pick them now before all the birds and fruit bats get them.”

Laughing, you allow the sugar glider hybrid to lead you into the grove of greenery, the man ducking and weaving around branches with ease as his feet follow a path well-worn into the dirt and grass. The splotches of sunlight that filter through the foliage are pleasant where they warm your skin, breeze ensuring you don’t get too hot beneath the kiss of a star. In the shadows of the trees, it is actually much cooler than you expected, but you can’t help but feel that the temperature, the air, the sights—everything feels perfect.

The mulberry tree, fondly called Ol’ Bessy as Jimin had eagerly informed you, is a large, looming monster of a tree with a plethora of winding trunks and subordinate thin branches that dangle and sway in the breeze in the image of a weeping willow. When you comment on the sheer size of it, Taehyung simply shrugs and tells you with a smile that it’s been here a long time, before anyone was on the island.

The three of you don't have much desire to waste any more time standing and dawdling, and so you begin your activity for the day, woven bags and baskets prepared and at the ready. You inspect the mulberries that are hanging lowest, spying the occasional green one but becoming easily appeased when you find bunches of ripe ones, plump and fit to burst as they weigh the thinner branches down.

Gathering them is harder than anticipated, because you hadn't accounted for the fact they they're, well, berries. It takes a few attempts and more than a few instances of stained hands before you figure out the best way to pluck them from the tree without bursting them. Taehyung saw the first one you popped and the way it went all up your arm, and hasn't stopped laughing since.

The three of you bounce between fruits and trees, filling your containers with whichever you prefer. After a while though you all seem to have the same idea to congregate at the mulberry tree. Admittedly, you hadn't been able to stop yourself from munching on some of the fruits as you picked them, but as you look at them and see berry stains around their mouths and apple leaves in their hair, you feel a little less guilty about it. Taehyung places his basket down, leaning it securely against the base of the tree trunk, before dusting his hands with a sharp clap and then resting them on his hips.

"Right," he says, eyes alight. "There's just one more tree to visit. I think you're gonna love it."

You tilt your head, wondering just what other kind of fruit he has up his sleeve when already you've picked so many. Surely he's constrained even a little bit by the climate? Or does he have magically green thumbs? Jimin giggles at your confused expression.

"How good are you at climbing trees?"

The question gives you pause. "Uh... decent? I suppose?"

"Great!" Taehyung exclaims, picking his basket back up and closing the lid to help secure it on his back. "Let's go!"

Once more you're lead in between and through the trees and shrubs, following the gleeful lemur hybrid and his grinning companion back to the middle of the grove. Before long you're stumbling to a halt, having reached the location and wondering how on earth you managed to miss this tree before.

It's bigger than Ol' Bessy by a decent margin, but confusion filters through you when you can't seem to spot any fruit hanging from its branches. You turn to Taehyung, about to question him, but he simply grins and darts over to the massive trunk (really, you don't think two of you could hug it from either side and have your fingers touch, it's so big). It's only after he begins scaling it with alarming ease that you take note of the grooves and footholds curled into the trunk, making it a naturally perfect tree for climbing. Jimin darts up after his friend, apparently also well-versed in the art of climbing this tree, and breaks you from your awed reverie with a shout over his shoulder.

"Come on, y/n! Or Tae is gonna take the good spot!"

Unsure what he means and unsure if you're willing to find out via Taehyung following through on that, you scramble to follow after them and do your best to climb.

It's easier than anticipated, actually, and dare you say it... relaxing. Though you're going higher and higher with each branch you clear, and see less of the ground and more of the canopy with each step, you can't say you're all that scared, or worried. If anything, it's as though a moment of peace has been captured in a bubble, and now settles like cool mist on a spring morning at the bottom of your chest.

In sharp contrast to the cool breeze that brushes your face as you emerge from the thickest part of the foliage, the sun is quick to kiss warmth back into your cheeks. For a moment, you have to pause in your climb, because the view around you is simply so beautiful you're at an absolute loss for words.

From here, the highest point in the grove, you can see a vast majority of the island, a sweeping panorama of lush greens and soft sands that blend into the crystalline waters of the ocean, sunlight turning the surface to a sea of diamonds. Along the stretch of beach, in the distance, you can just barely glimpse the sharehouse, and on the other side of the island the little market square where all the stores and restaurants are appears as smudges and blobs of dark colours.

"It's so beautiful, right?"

You're so immersed in your observation that for a second you almost don't even register that someone is talking to you. Mouth open in awe, you simply turn your expression to Taehyung; the lemur laughs, almost tumbling back from the force of it, and you're shocked back into the moment with worry until you see what stopped him from falling.

Here, at the very top of the tallest tree in Taehyung's secret grove, he has built a small little fixture, a deck with enough space for four people to squeeze onto it at most. It hugs the trunk of the tree and is braced on the few thick branches that split from the tree beneath it. A lot of it is untouched, natural wood, but the bottom is made of processed planks and some of the short balcony ledge has been painted with acrylics, little scenes spanning the length of the strips. You didn't know Taehyung painted, but figure you'll bring it up at another time when you aren't precariously clinging to the top of a massive tree.

Taking the hand that both men offer you, you haul yourself carefully up and onto the deck, marvelling as you get an even clearer view of the island from your new position.

"It really is," you answer him, somewhat belatedly. When the two of them settle down, tree swaying much like you imagine a ship would on the vast expanse of the ocean, you follow suit, with your back pressed securely to the trunk.

Jimin is already flinging open his container, smacking it onto the wood in front of him, and Taehyung laughs once more, the sound so freeing and light that it makes that little bubble of peace in your abdomen expand ever so slightly.

"And now, we feast!" The lemur says, eagerly opening his own basket and setting it in front of him, besides Jimin's. They're both set to overflow from the amount of fresh, ripe fruit piled in.

They shamelessly and unabashedly dig in, eliciting a laugh from you as you move your own bag before you to do the same. It's nice, the perfect lunch in more ways than one; the small amount of foliage above you offers just enough shade that you want for nothing more in the moment besides maybe a pillow or two, everything else accounted for in excess.

You're not sure how long you spend there, but you do know that the sun has made a decent amount of headway in its journey across the sky by the time the three of you are done stuffing your stomachs full, laying across the deck and squinting until the clouds swimming leisurely across the sky begin to resemble something you can put a name to. It's fun, and light, and for what is alarmingly far from the first time, you find yourself so thankful for the choices you made and the path that led you here, to be staying on this beautiful island with these lovely boys.

By time you finish and the three of you are heading back, you’ve eaten through half of the fruit and the boys are so full and sleepy from the big day that they’ve shifted into their animal forms and are now clinging to you, Taehyung with his long limbs around your neck and Jimin with his tiny paws clinging to the hair at the top of your head. You suspect he’s made himself another little nest up there, but can’t find it in yourself to be upset with him for it especially when the soft sounds and chitters he makes to communicate with Taehyung are so damn cute.

The trip back is shorter than you recall, and before you know it you’re approaching the sharehouse once more, it’s looming sides graced with the warm gleam of afternoon sun. Jimin and Taehyung are asleep as you reach the front door, and you’re saved from having to move all the bags and baskets in your hold to open the door when it opens for you. Hoseok is standing there, a startled look gracing his features that quickly blends into one of fondness as he sees his friends, something that makes your cheeks warm ever so slightly.

“Good day?” he asks, stepping back to let you in. You nod, unable to help the wide grin touching your lips.

“Yeah, it was.”

O – O – O

‘…They should be setting up a tower soon, so hopefully it won’t be long before I can call you again. But until then, I look forward to every letter you send, bubbles.

Write back soon! I miss you.

Love, Dad’

You sniffle, trying not to let out the tears that are so close to slipping from your eyes. You’re not all that upset, you love receiving letters from your father, but it’s just… a little bittersweet. You’d moved here to escape your family, following a certain incident that you’re not keen to revisit, and your father had always been and will always be supportive of you— but it’s hard, when he’s halfway across the globe on one expedition or another.

It was only in the past ten years that your father managed to snag the job of his dreams and follow the passion he’s harboured since he was a child, graduating from his career as an accountant through attention garnered from numerous big research papers to become a well-respected biologist. From the second he accepted the offer, he’d started down a path that led him spending a majority of his life outside of the home and always on the move, hopping from one destination to another.

Whenever he could, he’d take you with him, but he wasn’t always able to. This expedition, which has landed him in the Antarctic, is an example of that. While he can’t be with you physically, he writes often and calls every chance he gets—and though it saddens you sometimes when it highlights the dismal state of the rest of your family, more than anything you’re happy for him and overjoyed that after years of slaving in an office, he finally gets to do what he wants.

You inhale, closing your eyes and trying to let the breath escape in a long, level manner. It’s night, not when you normally go about reading letters from your father but this letter had come late and you’d almost completely forgotten on your way to bed. Taking the opportunity to get some fresh air, you’d taken the letter and made yourself comfortable on the balcony, using the ample moonlight as a makeshift reading lamp.

Placing the letter carefully on the table, mindful not to place it in anything dirty or unsavoury, you settle back in your chair and tilt your gaze to the skies, allowing your eyes to become unfocused and simply stare. It's a pretty sight, as you expected-- the stars are much more outgoing here, with no haze or pollution masking their display like in the city on the mainland.

You let out a breath, but even to your ears it sounds more like a sigh. You miss your dad, and you know he misses you too but despite the fact you know it's selfish of you, you kind of wish he had been here with you when you made the decision to move. Of course, you've told him all about it, and he's supported you wholly in every choice you've made, but it's not the same. You don't blame him, and you love him dearly, but still... you're allowed to be sad, just a little. Just for tonight.

Well, that had been your plan-- apparently the universe has other ideas that don't include sulking in the moonlight on your balcony. A scuffling sound disturbs your reverie from the side of your balcony, and you look over in time to see a decent blob of shadow scaling up the side of the balcony next to yours and flinging onto the railing. Once there, it halts, and your eyes adjust just in time to meet those of the creature-- the raccoon, you realise quickly. It tilts its head up, sniffling the air once, before pinning you with an unreadable look. For a moment the two of you sit in silence, locked in place by the other's gaze, before the raccoon lets out a soft noise and then it's little claws are clacking against the hollow metal railing, and it disappears beyond the wall.

Whose room is that... Jungkook's? You muse to yourself for a moment before you remember what kind of hybrid Jungkook is, and in the next second there is the sound of a door sliding shut and Jungkook's bright-eyed face pops around the side of the wall.

"Uh... are you okay?"

You blink, brain taking a moment to catch up and then decipher how he could have possibly known you were even a little bit upset. You recall suddenly that animals can pick up cues, like chemoreceptors, and tilt your head at him with a small smile.

"Yeah... no... I'm alright." You angle yourself more towards him in your chair, cheering internally when you see him stop hiding behind the wall and come to lean against the railing. "Was that you? Where were you off to, this time of night?"

Jungkook looks like he wishes to address the first thing you said, but your follow-up has thrown him a bit for a loop. You can't be sure your eyes aren't deceiving you, but you could almost swear he's blushing.

"Oh, yeah... sorry." He reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck, hair mussed and eyes averted. "I know my animal form isn't that nice... sorry if you thought it was gross."

"What?!"

At the sheer suddenness and volume of your almost-shriek, Jungkook jumps about a foot in the air. His wide eyes swing back to you, chest heaving as he rests his hand in the centre of it. You clear your throat, shrinking a bit in embarrassment.

"Sorry," you wince, before going to elaborate on your earlier squawk. "But please don't ever apologise for something like that! I don't know who told you that your animal form is gross, but they can't be all that bright... it was cute."

He looks more like a deer in headlights than the animal he's spliced with right now, eyes wide and staring right at you. You can't help but laugh and tease him, just a little. "Cutest raccoon I ever did see, anyway."

He suddenly comes back to earth, slamming his face into his hands and letting out a long groan. It's from embarrassment, you can tell from the flashes of reddened skin that peek through his fingers. You don't say anything for a moment, letting him return to the conversation on his own terms. Jungkook might be one of the housemates you've interacted with least, but you've heard plenty from the rest of the hybrids in the house.

More often than not, it's about how shy he is and how cute it is when he gets embarrassed. You'd simply nodded and laughed at the time, but now you realise there truly is merit to everything they said.

It takes a few moments of Jungkook muttering into his hands before he pulls his face away, averting his eyes and mumbling softly, "... Thanks. That's really nice of you to say."

"You're welcome," you shrug, smiling when he risks a glance your way to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing nothing that will make him turn tail and flee back into the safety of his room, he eases up, returning his body to it's previous angle towards you.

"So... why were you upset?"

Surprisingly, his question doesn't bother you as you thought it might. You hum, watching as his gaze follows yours to the table, where the letter and the envelope it came in, addressed to you, lay discarded.

"Letter from my dad," you offer in explanation, watching his eyes light in realisation. "Nothing bad, I just miss him so it's... bittersweet."

Jungkook hums, nodding and resting his chin in his hand as he leans forward. "I understand. It's like that with my parents. I know they love me, and I love them, but they're pretty far away and I just... miss them. They're always working."

You're a little surprised that he can relate, although you suppose you really shouldn't be. You don't know very much about Jungkook at all, so it's not fair of you to assume anything about him, even in relation to your own experiences.

"Yeah," you sigh, looking to the sky for a moment as you try and organise your thoughts. "I'm happy he is where he is, doing what he's doing, but I think it's okay to be sad, just for tonight."

Jungkook hums, but doesn't say anything further. It surprises you when he speaks next, the two of you having fallen into a lull.

"Well, you could keep being sad for the night if you want, or... would you maybe wanna see the film I've been working on?"

Your head whips to face him faster than the speed of light, startling him into another jump on the spot.

"Really?" you ask, hurried as though the offer will be rescinded at any moment. "You mean it? I can see it?"

"Yes...?" Jungkook answers, somewhat bewildered. You launch from your chair immediately, rubbing your hands together-- you've heard really good things from the others about his talents in photography and editing, so you've been trying to figure out a way to slip it into conversation for weeks. You've wanted to see them for yourself so badly.

"I'm coming over," you announce, gathering the letter and envelope and already beginning to move towards your room. "I hope your room is clean, Jungkook, or else I'm gonna tease you!"

You'd just meant it as a joke, but the scrambling and hurried footsteps you hear after you say it make you think he took you seriously.

Well, you dad would probably want you to spend the night happy, anyway. You can save being sad for another night.

O -- O -- O

Your time at the house has gone by much faster than you anticipated, and while initially you'd thought that you wouldn't be able to wait to get out, now you find yourself feeling quite the opposite.

You kind of don't want to leave.

At this point, about two months into your stay, you've settled into such a comfortable, stable routine that you struggle to imagine going through the motions in any other way. Often after your early shifts you'll return to the house and catch someone lounging in the sun, and you will no doubt be roped into a short, sweet afternoon nap. On the weekends is group breakfast, and you make sure that you go to bed as early as possible the nights before so that you don't miss it. Taehyung drags you with him of a weekend to fetch fruit and Jimin drags you around the town in general. Some evenings, you find yourself accompanying Namjoon on a walk along the beach, both of you feeling more at peace than ever before when you're standing with feet buried in the sand, watching dusk bleed into twilight and the colours around you stain violet and periwrinkle in the absence of the sun's kiss.

Jungkook knocks on your door at late hours, grinning and eagerly summoning you to his room to watch his latest creation. Seokjin no longer resists your help every other night to make lunches, and has started including you in the schedule as well.

Yoongi and Hoseok are among the busier residents of the house, but you've still spent bits of time with each of them, probably moreso with Hoseok. It's not that you avoid Yoongi or anything like that, it's just that he happens to be the most busy and more often than not is holed up in his room. You don't always see him throughout the week, but he always attends house breakfast on weekends and you're thankful that you get to see him then.

Today, you're spending a little more time with Hoseok. Your shift ended early and you couldn't have thanked your lucky stars any harder, because today the squirrel hybrid had invited you to his dance class. Usually Jungkook or Jimin went with him, both of them enjoying dance as much as their older housemate, but they had both been unavailable today. You'd seen the way Hoseok's face had fallen when they'd told him, and had immediately asked about the class-- you didn't even talk for more than a few minutes before Hoseok was happily inviting you to attend.

It made you a little more pleased than you're going to admit.

You're on your way there now, actually, a skip in your step and a swing in your gait. You've got the tote bag you hold your work things in, and you can hear the rustling of the nuts you'd shoved in there last minute earlier in the day. You'd noticed that Hoseok had forgotten them, so you'd grabbed them to give to him when you saw him. Hopefully he hasn't stuffed himself too full of other foods in the meantime, though from what you've heard apparently he's such a workaholic that he probably hasn't even had lunch yet despite the fact it's currently three in the afternoon.

A majority of Hoseok's classes take place at the school where he teaches, in a room at the end of the drama block that often doubles as a dance classroom when the school gets the funding for it. When you arrive, the door is slightly ajar and upbeat pop is leaking through the gap, Hoseok's sunny voice piercing through the music like a pendulum.

"--and one, two, three, one, two, three-- that's it! That's fantastic! Really good job, guys!"

A smile is already on your face as you push the door open enough to let yourself in, gaze immediately falling upon a group of grinning children that are looking up at Hoseok like they're a tiny field of sunflowers facing their namesake. Hoseok stands before them in a borderline comical pose that only primary school teachers can really pull off, hands on his hips and a proud, beaming smile on his face. You can’t help but blink because for a moment it really was as blinding as looking directly at the sun. He spots you before you can recover fully, and greets you with a wave.

“Ah, perfect! Everyone, this is Miss y/n! She’s going to be sitting in today—I told her how good you all were and she couldn’t wait to see for herself. Let’s all say hello!”

A chorus of greetings is immediately thrown at you, the attention of the little sunflowers now completely on you. Some gasp and run over, grinning brightly at the novelty of a new character, and others watch from afar but seem pleased nonetheless by your presence and alleged eagerness to see them perform.

Before they can launch into conversation with you like you can so clearly see they want to, the ears of some kids ramrod straight and alert and others’ tails flicking in excitement, Hoseok calls them back to where he stands and to your surprise they obey immediately.

“Alright, let’s let Miss y/n get settled down and we can show her what we’ve been practicing, hm? Sound good?”

There is a chorus of ‘yes!’ that pulls a laugh from you as you make your way to the side of the room with the best view and plop down, cross-legged. Eagerly and very self-consciously, now that they have an audience, the small army of children runs to take their place in the formation, and Hoseok pulls his phone from his pocket to pause the song currently playing and pull up the one that matches their routine.

The opening notes filter into the air and Hoseok nods, foot tapping to the beat, before he counts them in and off they go.

Put simply, you’re so incredibly impressed. These kids can dance! You don’t have a doubt that they can dance better than you, not that you ever claimed to have much talent in that department. By the time they finish running through their little routine, you’re clapping and cheering loudly, relishing in the laughter that you’re exaggerated reaction elicits. Hoseok, too, is smiling as he sees how you interact with his students, wandering over after he takes them through it a few more times before giving them a small break.

"So, what do you think?" he asks as he approaches your side of the room, slightly out of breath from doing the routine with them the last few times. "They're so good, aren't they? They've only been working on this for a few weeks and already they have it almost perfectly down-pat. I'm so proud of them."

He slides down the wall next to you, reaching for the bag he'd dropped there presumably before class began; across the room all the students are reaching into their class backpacks for their afternoon snack, and it seems Hoseok has the same idea. You don't even remember the nuts in your bag until he rifles through his for a few minutes, brows furrowed when he comes up empty. His bushy tail flicks dejectedly, ears twitching back on his head, and he pouts.

"Damn, I think I forgot my lunch this morning," he says, and it's enough to jog your memory. You jump in place from the startle of it.

"Oh, I saw that! Here," you quickly reach into your own bag and pull out the nuts and dried fruits, passing it over to him. "I brought it for you, since I figured you'd probably want it at some point."

The way Hoseok's eyes light up when they see the little plastic bag in your hand is almost enough to make you laugh and/or coo out loud. By the skin of your teeth you barely manage to hold that reaction back, but you do smile as he cheers with a short, happy scream and eagerly takes it from your grip.

"My nuts!" Hoseok wastes no time ripping the bag open and grabbing a handful, setting about munching immediately. "You have saved my life today, Miss y/n. I was soooo hungry."

"Didn't get lunch?" you guess, already knowing the answer and having it confirmed when Hoseok nods, completely unfazed by the fact he'd skipped a meal or two.

"I was helping one of the students," he explains, munching happily. His bushy tails curls in content behind him, a sight that makes something happy and warm settle in your chest. "I don't mind missing lunch if it means they get the help they need. I do feel it afterwards, though. Sometimes when I get home I feel so hungry I could eat the whole cupboard out."

A laugh tears from you at his words, the image even funnier because he didn't specify whether he would be doing it in his human form or his animal form. The image of a squirrel wreaking havoc in the house pantry is funnier than you care to admit, but Hoseok just seems happy to have elicited a laugh no matter the magnitude.

It's just a small thing, spending the afternoon with Hoseok and his students, but you find afterwards that it was almost... healing. On the way home, walking besides Hoseok and discussing which dried fruit were the superior dried fruit (he's wrong, and you'll take that opinion with you to the grave), you can't help but feel so light and happy. Like everything is in place, in motion and flowing smoothly. A river without debris and jagged rocks; life right now feels like that moment in nature when water runs over smooth pebbles in a creek, tumbling and pouring but doing so without chaos, and without mess or fallout. Just one continuous, fluid motion.

It feels nice.

You don't even realise until you're laying in bed that night that for a while now, that's how you've been referring to this place.

As home.

O -- O -- O

Aside from the occasional uncomfortable dream, these past few months have been remarkably incident-free, where it concerns the unfortunate topic of your extended family. You'd changed a lot of things when you'd made the decision to move to this island; your phone number, your email addresses and all your passwords, your social media... all of it had been combed through and either switched out or slimmed down. This place is an escape, a place of refuge for you, and that's how you want it to stay.

Unfortunately, the universe isn't always on your side.

It's a rainy afternoon when you receive the call, and you're so fixated on watching the way the rain falls in thin sheets over the ocean that at first from the first floor patio, that you miss it. They don't call again, but a message sets your phone off a minute or so later, and that catches your attention.

Of course, the second you read it and see who it's from, it does more than just catch your attention.

You're not someone prone to many episodes, and you've become adept at self-soothing. But as your eyes begin to stare unfocused at the message and you feel your chest constrict, diaphragm pushing against your lungs, you realise distantly that this is more than you just being momentarily overwhelmed.

You get a bit lost in the moment, lost in the sensation of light-headedness that suddenly washes over you, so much so that when a voice sounds distantly, muffled as though you're listening to someone speak to you from the depths of a pool, you barely even register it at first.

"Hey, y/n, have you seen--"

Still, your eyes are stuck on the message; you don't even notice the way your fingers had begun to tremble while holding the phone until a hand brushes your arm, a figure in front of you blocking the light from beyond the porch.

"y/n, hey, are you.... look at me. y/n, look at me."

Oh, that's a voice, and you do as it says without even a single thought flitting through your head. Looking up, you're barely even as surprised as you should be to see Yoongi standing there, a look of concern spread across his features, brows drawn together as he regards you. You feel a warm touch against your hand, phone tugged from your grip to be replaced with his own. Both your hands are now in his hold and he uses it to ground you, even if just for a moment.

"Can you do me a favour?" Yoongi says, and his voice is so soft and soothing that you find yourself listening as attentively as you can right now. "I need you to breathe with me. I'm gonna count ten breaths, okay? Let's do the first one-- in..."

He inhales deeply, his whole chest moving from the magnitude of it, and you feel as though you're floating in your own head in the moment as you follow suit. Slowly, patiently, he takes you through each breath one at a time, making sure you inhale as big as he does and exhale as long as he does. By the time you reach ten, the light-headed feeling has faded and the constriction in your chest has eased, ever so slightly. As soon as you finish your tenth breath you sag slightly, letting out a gush of air.

"Sorry," you say, slipping one of your hands from his grip to cover your face. "Sorry, I just--"

To your complete and utter surprise, Yoongi's hand lets your other one go and in the next moment you feel arms slipping around your shoulders, bringing you close to his chest and letting your face rest on his shoulder. You see his fluffy tail from where your face is squished, catching glimpses over his shoulder of the way it curls calmly.

Once the moment of shock passes, you're unable to help yourself but to return the embrace, surprised by how much you needed this without even knowing so.

"It's okay, don't apologise," Yoongi says, voice still soft and calm. You sag against him, and your eyes burn not from the message that triggered your almost anxiety-attack, but from the sheer kindness you feel emanating from this man. "Happens to the best of us. Are you feeling a little better?"

You nod, because oddly enough you are, and he slowly releases his hold on you, easing back with an assessing look. Another apology rests on the tip of your tongue but you bite it back, knowing he would refuse it if it ever entered the air.

“I am. Thanks,” you say, eyes looking for your phone as you realise suddenly that it is no longer in your hand where you’d left it. Yoongi holds it up, handing it back easily; his gaze passes over the screen as he does so, and the look he gives you is one of empathy and knowing.

“Shitty family?” he inquires, and you nod, choosing not to look at your phone and to slip it straight into your pocket instead. You go to sit against the wall, facing the edge of the patio, and he joins you.

“I get it,” he says, lifting a hand to fluff up his grey-tinted hair before shifting his gaze out to the rain and its reunion with the ocean. “’Part from my parents, the rest of my… relatives… they’re, uh… they’re not so nice. Didn’t treat me all that well, or even my parents for that matter. So… I get it. You don’t have to elaborate if you don’t wanna, but I get it.”

You don’t really know what to say to that; not that you’re speechless, per se, but moreso that there is simply so much going through your head at once that you can’t seem to settle on anything to voice.

“Thank you,” you say again, sniffling as subtly as you can as you focus on evening your breaths and calming your heart. You feel something on your hand and look over to see Yoongi has placed his palm over your own, his face soft and comforting.

“It’s no problem.”

A different kind of ache, the sort that is tinged around the edges with bittersweet warmth, begins to make itself known amongst the turmoil in your abdomen, and in this moment you can’t quite decipher whether it’s a good feeling or a bad one. What you do know, though, is that you’ve never been more thankful to have had the fortune of meeting these boys and having them make room in their hearts for you, even just a little, than you are right now.

O – O – O

You can’t believe that all the time you’ve spent here has gone so fast, and that currently there is no more than a week before your three month deadline is up and your contracted stay at this house is to come to an end.

If you’re being honest with yourself… you don’t want to go.

When you’d first come to this house, you’d expected that you would have a nice time, but also that you would be eager to move out by the end of the three month period. You had no way of knowing how well you’d fall into routine here, how attached you would become not only to the residents but to the home, the place and the feeling it offers and the way it allows you to feel happier than you have in years.

You know that you have to leave, they’d only agreed to house you for the three months after all, and you also know that they seem to have realised your time here is coming to an end as well. You’ve caught them talking amongst themselves a few times, not quite whispering but definitely conversing about something that halts as soon as they catch wind of you anywhere nearby. You get the sense that they’re unsure how to approach the topic, and you understand since it’s a bit tough for you yourself. You decide to bite the bullet and do it for them, though.

You ask them to meet you in the living area, a week before you leave, to talk. You wanted to just… officially thank them, you suppose. They’ve done a lot for you, in the time you’ve been here, whether they realise it or not. They’ve helped you settle, they’ve shown you that there really is more to life outside the misery your relatives tended to create, and they’ve ensured every second you’ve been with them that you have felt welcomed, and included.

Truthfully, it means more to you than you know how to put into words.

Which is why it’s especially difficult for you to accept that you have to leave.

The expressions on their faces as they gather are a mixture between curious and somewhat apprehensive, with Namjoon, Jungkook and Hoseok bordering on nervous. You wonder why before realising they might not know why you called them here.

“Hey, thanks for gathering,” you say, attempting to keep it light and ensure the smile stays on your face. Of course, they all return is as they take seats across the room, some on the couch and others on the coffee table or the floor. Taehyung’s head tilts, tail curling lightly behind him.

“Um, I just wanted to say something to you—to all of you, while I could. I didn’t think I’d be able to catch everyone in the one room any time but on the weekend,” you muse, smile widening at the round of light laughter your joke elicits. You shift, taking a breath and grounding yourself through the motion of meeting their gazes, one by one.

“I wanted to say thank you,” you begin, voice softer than intended but not so soft that you’re worried their senses won’t pick it up. “Because when I moved here it was to get away, and start anew, and you guys… really gave me that. You’ve made these three months the best and happiest months I’ve had in a long time. I’m so thankful that you let me in, and welcomed me into your home and even into your lives. I don’t think I can word this the way I want to but… really. Thank you, so much. I know I have to leave in a week, but—”

“Oh!”

You halt mid-spiel, wide eyes moving to Taehyung as he suddenly sits up, holding his hands out. “So that’s what you wanted to talk to us about—we actually wanted to talk to you about something, too.”

Freezing, you simply blink, mind coming up blank as to what they could possibly want to talk to you about. Namjoon clears his throat when no one else follows up after Taehyung, averting his eyes before he gathers himself and meeting your confused look. “Well, you probably noticed we’ve been talking amongst ourselves a lot lately—I mean, I know you’ve noticed because you’ve walked in on us a few times, and we’re not very good at being subtle, but—”

“We want to know if you’d like to stay here—permanently.” Taehyung cuts his friend off before he can finish, apparently no longer able to hold the question at bay. There is an expression of pure, unguarded sincerity on his face, excitement lighting in his eyes. “We all talked it out and found that we want you to stay—all of us.”

“You fit,” Yoongi says suddenly, voice still soft but loud enough for you to catch easily. He offers you a gentle smile when you look his way. “We know that if you left, the house wouldn’t be the same after… it would be missing something. You haven’t been here long, but you’re kind of already part of our family so… please don’t go, if you don’t want to.”

Some of the others are pinning Yoongi with a surprised look that you suspect is not directed at what he said, but rather the fact that he said it. You’re too busy biting your lip and trying not to cry like a baby to notice all that much.

“Is that really okay?” you ask, déjà vu washing over you as you think to yourself that again, this sounds too good to be true. “Do you guys really want me to stay?”

Immediately, there is a mixture of nods and loud ‘Yes!’s and ‘Of course!’. You really can’t hold it back, you find, because the sudden flood of warmth and affection washing over your insides is more than you know how to handle. You sniff, unable to reach the tears fast enough to prevent their fall down your face.

“Will you stay?” Yoongi asks, head tilted. Regrettably, his tenderness makes more tears fall.

“Yeah,” you manage, wiping your face furiously, “Yeah, I will. Thank you.”

And that’s all the confirmation you need before your new family is tackling you one by one, replacing your sobs with laughter and making sure you know that from now on, you don’t have to cry alone, you don’t have to be sad alone. They’re here for you.

And it feels so, so nice.

a/n: thank you so much for reading! please let me know what you think and how it made u feel, and let me know u enjoyed it by liking and reblogging! feel free to even just send me an ask screaming! thank u! i love u !

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