#its like when you have a dead parent and you see your friends with their very much alive parents | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starry-bi-sky · 1 year ago

Text

#second: op you answered so many questions!!? thank you!! but that is a dangerous game bc now i have /more/ >:)

I will answer as many as I can!!! this is making me literally so happy lmao. And as I said before: if i don't have an answer to one, I'll mention it. (a lot of these are great because I can meditate on the answer and it lets me expand on the au more)

#aaah there is SO much heartache all around in this au!!#how you described the grief danny was feeling before he died - how dying with those emotions means he'll never be free of them? my heart </#just hit again with w how SAD dannys ghost form is in this au - and how will jason respond once he sees it?

I SAW THIS BEFORE I WENT INTO WORK AND MMMM. It made me think so much about my thoughts on how I wanted to expand a little more on his ghost form, and I just thought about adding how his Lichtenberg scars like, converge where his heart is. His left arm has the scarring. And then when you look at where his heart is, there's scarring over it, as if there's a hole there and his heart is missing. His grief has carried onto the afterlife, why not incorporate that into his ghost self more? Raaaa I want it to look like he's perpetually crying under his evil scientist goggles. (post-post addition: i drew it :))

Have you ever listened to 'The Moon Will Sing' from The Crane Wives? That's Danny with his grief over Jason. "The moon will sing a song for me/I loved you like the sun/bore the shadows that you made/with no light of my own/I shine only with the light you gave me"

I don't even know if I need to expand on his grief because we already know how it gets in canon. It's this heavy, destructive thing that hits hard and lasts long. Losing your entire family is different from losing a single person, but if that single person was part of a separate, two person family, then what difference does that make?

#and does he ever see danny fight - not as a scrappy street kid anymore but now trained and experienced! does he learn HE trained danny?

eventually! I can't think of an occasion (yet) where Jason would see Danny fight, but that can totally come later. Maybe if I get possessed again I'll write something. I've had a few ideas about how Danny reveals his ghost form but all of them verge more into the 'cracky, can really only be expanded on in dms cuz they don't follow the theme of the au' territory, and didn't feel satisfactory to the au.

#how would he feel after that declaration of dannys to kill joker? i'd be like wth did i tell him??? and why cant i remember!#poor jason already sweating bullets at the idea of admitting he's still alive after all this time - he has no idea where they even stand no#danny talked to his ghost? his actual ghost? how much does danny know? does he know he was robin? does he know he's HOOD? or about his mom?#there's so much he's wanted to tell danny - how much would he have said as a ghost with apparently nothing else to lose?

YEAH THAT'S EXACTLY IT. Jason watches Danny leave and he's trying to just. Process everything. From seeing his best friend in front of him, to remembering that Danny doesn't know he's Red Hood, to realizing that Danny has been grieving him for the last five years and that he was still grieving. And then Danny tells him that he talked to his ghost? And that he's gonna murder the Joker? Jason is just. He's processing. Your tags capture exactly that: his questions about what does Danny know?

#also: if danny is 19 - jason is 19/20 right? so tbh this is probably not long after his frankly suicidal murder rampage through gotham#so what - admit to danny thats... a lot to admit to

yeah I'll be totally frank I don't know enough about Jason during his Red Hood era to give much of a response to this. I only had a little idea that he even went on a rampage tbh 😅 but now knowing that he went on a murder rampage? Yeah he'd be even less inclined to tell Danny about him. Ignorance is bliss and all that -- even if Danny's ignorance to him being alive is causing him more harm than good. (Jason still doesn't even know that Danny's been searching for him yet).

#and i can kind of get why he might have kept fenton stuff from bruce. either the dr fentons are fine & good or theyre not#either admittance to bruce might feel like betrayel - esp if danny has never said in clear words : i want out of this family#and he must have known them at least a little. shared a small meal at their place? listened to a crazy speech? he might be defensive of the(m)

Oh yeah totally! If Danny hasn't invited Jason over at least once, then his parents have whenever they see him hanging out with Jason. And that brings up one of Jackdaw's tags -- that Danny knows not to touch his parents inventions. And I think even Jason knows that. He remembers whenever Danny's parents talked about repairing the toaster or the fridge, or making an invention with parts laying around the house, that Danny would always immediately drag Jason off to the other room. "I hate it when they do this." He'd complain, "their things are a safety hazard."

And then later he complains to Jason about how whatever invention his parents made or whatever thing they fixed blew up and set off their shit fire alarm and they had to evacuate the building. "I told you it was a safety hazard." He says, and then steals the cigarette from Jason's hands.

Jason knows that Danny wouldn't touch his parents things with a three hundred foot pole. Just imagine how he'd react to finding out that Danny willingly walked into his parents' broken, unstable portal with nothing but a hazmat suit only a week after his funeral :)

Post-posting addition: raaaa even better if Danny even tells Jason about their new lab basement after they move to the new house and Danny routinely mentions that he avoids going in there as much as possible because he doesn’t want to be around whatever half-baked safety hazard his parents have cooked up in case it explodes on him. Him not taking Sam and Tucker in there until after the funeral when the portal finishes.

#back to jason hearing the ghost talk: it was one thing to feel guilty about keeping away from danny who loved him -#but now after avoiding danny and amity he's faced with the proof that he's missed out on x amount of time w danny too#how much has changed in their time apart

I have nothing I can say about this other than I love it and the line "it was one thing to feel guilty about keeping away from Danny who loved him" because RA its so good, because Danny DOES love him. And not even romantically yet because platonic love ftw. Jason was part of Danny's family and all but his other half. His partner in crime. And YEAH Jason's missed out on so much, when he starts looking into Amity Park he's really going to see how much.

#one last thing: that danny avoided gotham bc he wants to kill joker but if he starts could he stop? makes me wonder... what changed?#was it really just a coincidence with vlad? or is he hoping to find jason's ghost in gotham?#or is he giving up again but this time he'll be sure to take out the clown with him?#bc telling THE RED HOOD his threat on the joker? yeah that feels like a challenge. a promise. like he's being too loose with his life again#and if he was afraid of turning into rath for all these years - a different name sure- but how did all that happen in this au?#same as canon? or was it jason related? both?? bc im p sure that happened roughly 6 months after portal incident too..... ;)

exhibit a of why i love these questions because it pushes me to expand my thinking of the au and in turn expand the au itself because when I was writing this initially I really didn't expect to think too hard on it. i mentioned in my first response that vlad's 'blackmailing' was just me coming up with an excuse to get Danny into Gotham unwillingly. I was possessed by the brainrot gods and spent four hours writing the initial post like a Man Possessed. And now we're here and I love it.

I need to sit on this answer, because I wasn't thinking about changing much about how TUE could differ from canon. But this is making me think SO much. I will totally try and get back to you on this after I mull it over. As well as Danny telling the Red Hood about going to kill the Joker and the Vlad thing. But in the meantime feel free to rant more because I love it and it gives me brainrot <3

Childhood Friends Danny and Jason

(cw underage smoking / smoking as a form of bonding) (cw Jason thinking Danny killed himself but its only for a moment) (cw depictions of murderous intent? Danny wants to murder the Joker and he's a little descriptive about it

This is… aha. Massive. Word count check: 9k+

this has probably been done before but hey, everyone loves a good trope and I wanted to share my take on this idea. 👏👏 So, Danny Fenton and Jason Todd being childhood friends. The Fentons lived in Crime Alley for a good long while during Danny's childhood. Nobody wanted to fund their research and Jack and Maddie struggled to keep any form of work for a multitude of reasons. Jack worked in construction due to his big build and Maddie had another job elsewhere.

Danny and Jason were friends during that time, really great friends. I'm not super solid on how they met yet but I do know it involves Danny committing petty crime and Jason deciding to jump in and help when he sees Danny struggling. Danny was distrustful (as all crime alley kids ought to be) but they eventually became thick as thieves, committing petty crime together.

While it's all too easy to make Danny the weaker one of the two with Jason protecting him, I actually really like the idea that they protected each other. Growing up (essentially) on the streets means Danny forcibly had to grow a backbone unless he wanted to get trampled all over. He is just as willing to scuffle with the bigger kids as Jason is, and he and Jason regularly fought each other whenever they needed to let off steam, or just because. They were a duo, having each other's backs in tough situations.

(Sometimes the pair of them would sneak out at night and try and get a glimpse of Batman and Robin while they soared through the air. It was like a game between the two of them to see who could spot the dynamic duo first. When they were a little older, Jason would steal his dad's cigarettes and share them with Danny while they searched for Batman and Robin)

So when Danny has to move away when they're eleven years old, it's pretty safe to say that Jason didn't speak to him for a week afterwards. Nothing Danny did could persuade him to otherwise, even when Danny insisted that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't want to move away either, but he didn't have a choice in the matter.

When the week was over, Jason climbed through Danny's window and sat in his room, dead silent and looking upset. he didn't speak until Danny fished out a stolen pack of cigarettes from his bed and handed one to Jason.

(It was a ritual they had where if one of them was upset about something but wasn't saying anything, the other one could then hand them a cigarette -- whether it be the one they were using or a new one -- and that would be an open invitation for the person to vent. The other one who handed him the cigarette wouldn't speak until the venter handed back the cigarette. Then back and forth it would go until the cigarette was gone.)

Jason ranted about how pissed he was about Danny moving, and they promised to try and stay in touch after he leaves. Neither of them had phones, but Danny was determined to send him a letters.

Danny moves to Amity Park and it's... an adjustment, that's for sure. He's angry, grumpy, upset, and every other negative feeling under the sun. He was going to a new middle school with new people he didn't know, away from all of the people he did know and away from his best friend.

(He does however keep his word about sending letters, and mails one out to Jason at the first opportunity.)

He refuses to get along with anyone, butts heads with the teachers, is combative, rude, and openly smokes in class -- which gets him plenty of detentions and a bad reputation. He speaks in a thick Gotham street accent and wears hand-me-down clothes that are too big and baggy on him. (His parents have yet to replace any of their wardrobes as they settle into their new life, and Danny is hesitant to spend the money to get new clothes.)

He only manages to befriend Sam and Tucker because one of the football kids was bullying Tucker and Danny stepped in. It was some blond jerk named Dash and when Dash threw the first punch, Danny broke his nose. Tucker found him later that day and reluctantly thanked him for his help.

Sam and Danny do not get along for the longest time. Sam questions Danny about his upbringing, his accent, his smoking. She judges him for talking back to the teachers despite doing it herself and for ruining his lungs with cigarettes. Danny tells her to fuck off, and when she tries to judge him and Tucker for not being vegetarian, he calls her a privileged brat.

Sam doesn't even look at him for two weeks after, and Danny refuses to apologize. Tucker is caught between a rock and a hard place as his old friend and new friend are feuding with each other.

They... sort it out eventually.

Danny and Jason send each other letters near religiously. Danny complains about Amity Park, and Jason complains about how Crime Alley isn't the same without him. Danny talks about the school and what he's learned, about Sam and Tucker, and how he's been getting into the astronomy books in the library. He steals Jason a book and sends it to him.

When Jason tells Danny that he was adopted by Bruce Wayne, Danny calls bullshit. There's no fucking way Bruce Wayne would even look at Crime Alley, regardless of his charity efforts towards it. But when he checks Gotham news later that week, he's hit in the face with every single news article announcing Bruce Wayne's newest ward; Jason Todd.

Cue freaking out. Jason talks all about living in Wayne Manor and what it's like there. He says that there's a monster library in a part of the house that Bruce says he has free reign over, and that Jason can have anything to eat as long as he asks Alfred to make it and it isn't a desert, and that he has his own monster-sized room that he got to pick out himself and decorate.

(When they both get phones, the first thing either of them do is add each other's numbers.)

When Sam complains about having to go to a Wayne Gala that her parents are dragging her to one weekend, the first thing Danny asks is if he can go with. It surprises Sam and Tucker; Danny was the last person they would have thought wanted to go with. HE hates the rich even more than Sam does. Danny stands firm in his decision, and refuses to elaborate.

"Besides." He says to Sam, with whom he's begun to get along with via 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend'. "Would you rather go alone or with someone you can tolerate?"

She brings him with and convinces her parents to allow Danny to come along, citing that she'll be on her best behavior if they do. They agree, and buy Danny a suit when he says that he doesn't have one of his own.

(He discovers that he hates wearing suit jackets and ties, but vests he doesn't mind. He doesn't like that he has to comb his hair back, but he does to make Sam's parents happy. They give him a crash course in etiquette that Danny's going to forget the next day, and soon enough off they go in a private jet to Gotham)

(he does not tell Jason he's coming.)

he feels mischievous and nervous as they touch down, his stomach swirling as Sam's parents usher them to a high-profile hotel that Danny's only ever dreamed about going into. He feels largely out of place as they walk through the lobby, and falls back on old habits: square shoulders, set jaw, make yourself look like the biggest person in the room.

They get ready in the hotel room, Sam's parents primp and preen for the night incoming, and Sam is dragged into it by her mother. Danny does only what's required of him, and fiddles with the sleeves of his fresh-ironed button-down that's been tailored to his body. He's itching for a cigarette, and didn't bring any with.

Sam's dad helps him with his tie, a bout of kindness that Danny doesn't think is one. Just obligation to prevent Danny from looking like a mess. Sam pesters him again about wanting to come, and his reasons for it, and Danny keeps mum.

He's stone-faced with anxiety as they get closer to the gala, and before they leave the limousine the Mansons rented Sam links arms with him. A form of solidarity that Danny needs as he squeezes their arms together and smiles weakly at her.

The paparazzi are loud, bright, and demanding, shouting questions over questions at them like overlapping tidal waves. Danny ignores them all and focuses on the front doors instead. Sam's parents whisper at the stairs that they are to greet the Waynes first, and Danny's heart leaps to his throat.

His heart is in his ears as they drift closer, Mister Wayne is preoccupied with another rich couple, smiling that charming billionaire smile that Danny saw on every billboard in Gotham, and then some in Amity Park. Getting so close to him feels unreal.

And there by his side is the one and only Jason Todd, who isn't even trying to hide the bored look on his face as he watches Bruce interact with the other adults. He's gotten taller in the year they've been away, and healthier. His hair looks like its been cut professionally and he doesn't look as street kid skinny.

Danny's arm, hooked with Sam's, tightens up, and he resists the urge to rush forward and hug Jason. He watches Jason's eyes sweep left, away from him, and then right, towards him. The air stills for a moment as their eyes lock.

Danny grins toothily at him, lopsided and playful in nature, and sees the moment Jason processes the sight before him. His arm starts slipping out of Sam's at the same time as an ecstatic smile stretches across Jason's face.

His lopsided grin fills out on the other end. "DANNY!" Jason yells, cutting off whatever Bruce Wayne and startling everyone within earshot. There's barely a moment for Bruce to look down when Jason shoves past him and runs at Danny.

Danny yanks his arm out of Sam's, "JASON!" He yells with just as much enthusiasm, and Jason nearly topples them right over when he collides with Danny. His arms wrap around Danny's shoulders, holding onto him tightly, and they're both laughing, spinning around like tops out of joy.

"You didn't tell me you were coming!" Jason cries, sounding accusing. Danny hugs him just as tightly, and laughs when Jason pulls away momentarily to punch his shoulder.

"I wanted it to be a surprise!" He defends, laughing between words as their spinning comes to a stop. They're both reluctant to pull apart, but they do and clutch the sleeves of their elbows tightly. "How could my best friend be adopted by the Bruce Wayne and have me not come confirm it with my own two eyes?"

"I sent you newspaper clippings!" Jason says, narrowing his eyes while his smile betrays his face. Danny quietly notices that his Gotham street accent is faded slightly.

"Oh that's what it was?" Danny's grin turns again, edging into a smirk. He feigns innocence, "I thought that was fire kindling." He has the newspaper clippings hung on the corkboard in his room, proud beyond words about his best friend.

Jason punches him in the shoulder again, hard enough to leave a bruise. "You jackass." He says, ignoring Danny's laughter even when he's holding back his own.

There's a soft, sharp clearing of someone's throat, breaking their attentions away from each other to the one that made the noise.

Bruce Wayne was a tall man, taller than Danny expected, and he looks exactly like his billboards. If less promiscuous than his perfume ads. Danny expects him to be upset with them both for disrupting his pretty rich gala, but instead he just looks gently amused, with an arched eyebrow. Overall though, he just looks fond.

Danny would be the first to admit that Bruce had taken in Jason as a charity case, something to fill the void after his other kid Dick Grayson finally moved out. But Danny’s a good judge of character — or he likes to assume he is — and those are not the eyes of a man who would take Jason in as a charity case. Those are the eyes of a man who actually, genuinely, cares about one Jason Todd.

The wriggly protective thing settles in his chest.

He doesn’t let go of Jason, but he does twist his smile into something a little more polite. Mister Wayne’s eyebrow arches higher, and he turns his blue-blue eyes onto Jason. “Who’s this, Jason?” He has that fancy Gotham Elite accent -- something that sounds like a mix between old transatlantic and faintly British -- that Danny's only heard in passing when he and Jason snuck up to the nicer parts of Gotham.

Jason stares at Mister Wayne, his grip on Danny tightens as his eyes flick to the other onlookers in the room. “This is Danny, B.” He says once his eyes turn back to Mister Wayne. “We grew up in Crime Alley together, he moved to Illinois last year."

Danny can see the uncomfortable expressions cross every rich person's face, murmurs sweeping across the room as soon their uncomfortable gazes turned judgmental and flinty. He's kept track of the tabloids after Jason's adoption, the ones calling him a charity case and looking down on him for being a street kid.

He inches a little closer to Jason, straightening up instinctively, as if they were back in Crime Alley and facing a pack of kids that didn't like them. He can see Sam's surprised expression from the corner of his eye -- he never told Tucker or Sam about where he grew up, although he's sure they had their suspicions.

He looks back to Mister Wayne and meets his blue-blue eyes, his smile has slowly begun to fade. Mister Wayne doesn't miss a beat however, and his smile stays plastered to his face. If anything, it gets a little softer, a little wider. "It's nice to meet you Danny -- Daniel? I'm so glad that Jason has a friend here." He holds out a hand.

Danny eyes him unsurely, and then takes his hand. "It's jus' Danny, Mister Wayne." He says, some of his old accent slipping through as he shook his hand firmly. He would have done it harder, but this was Jason's new guardian, and from Jason's letters he didn't sound too bad. "It's, uh, nice to meet you too. Jason's told me lots about you."

Mister Wayne's brows jump momentarily, he looks intrigued. He looks between Danny and Jason, and claps his hands together softly. "Well, Jay, how would you like to stay with Danny for a while, hm? I'm sure you too have a lot to catch up on."

Hope simmers in Danny's heart, and he glances to Jason to see that same hope on his face. "Really?" He asks, and Mister Wayne nods with a laugh.

"Of course! How could I keep two friends apart? Go on ahead, chum. I'll come get you when the gala ends."

And just like that, Bruce Wayne leaves Jason with Danny, diving back into a conversation with one of the rich gothamites and taking the attention with it as if he were the sun and everyone else a planet orbiting him.

Danny and Jason share grins, and throw their arms around each other with laughter. Danny is on cloud nine, pressing his nose into Jason's shoulder and breathing him in, fingers digging into the back of his suit hard enough to leave wrinkles in his jacket.

Sam demands answers when they finally, for real this time, pull apart. Why didn't he tell her that he was friends with Jason Todd!? Danny slings his arm around Jason's shoulders and keeps him close, and tells her that it was because he wanted it to be a surprise.

Sam's parents have unreadable expressions on their faces, part greed -- Danny is their in to the elusive Bruce Wayne -- and part disdain -- a Gotham street rat. Danny ignores them, they're unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

He introduces Sam to Jason, and Jason to Sam. And off they go to a corner of the room near the buffet table where they can eat and shit talk everyone else in the room in peace.

At some point in the night Sam is called back to her parents to meet some other fancy rich kids her parents want her to get along with, and Danny and Jason go off to the west end balcony to avoid anyone who may try and approach the new Gotham ward.

Danny hops up onto the balcony railing, kicking his feet as Jason pulls a cigarette pack out of his inner jacket pocket, and grins. "Don't tell Bruce," he says, handing the box to Danny first. "He's been trying to get me to quit."

"Hah!" Danny takes one just as Jason slips out a lighter. "That sounds like Jazz. She's been trying to get me to stop since we moved to Amity." Granted, she's been trying ever since she found out before they moved, but now she was even more insistent. "She hasn't found my stash yet."

At the end of the night when the Mansons are leaving and Danny has to leave with them, he walks back to Mister Wayne with Jason to tell him that he's leaving. Mister Wayne mourns his going, and tells him that he's always able to come visit.

"Any friend of Jason's is always welcome to the manor." He says with a blinding grin, pulling Jason close to his side and squeezing him tight. Jason's nose scrunches up, but he doesn't push away.

It becomes a new routine for them. The Mansons are all too happy to bring him with to the Wayne Galas (of which they start receiving more invites to due to their connection with Danny) and Danny is all too happy to spend the evening with Jason again. No matter what, they always end up on the balcony at some point in the night.

And, eventually, Danny is invited to stay at Wayne Manor either for a weekend or for a break. He jumps at the chance when winter break rolls around and his parents start their debate over Santa Claus again.

Danny and Jason stay up late into the night talking or playing video games during their sleepovers, and in the warmer nights they climb out and onto the roof to stargaze. Danny points out constellations - - things he can find in neither Gotham or Amity -- and rambles on and on about space.

There are plenty of times during the Wayne Galas that the event gets attacked by a rogue. More often than he'd like he loses Jason in the crowd, and has later stopped Robin or Batman in his panic to find him.

The first time it happened, he was in tears with terror. He grabbed onto Batman's cape, stopping the man from going back in as he babbled that his Jason Todd was still inside, that he disappeared during the chaos and he couldn't find him. Batman took his hands and calmly told him that he'd find Jason for him, and that he was sure he was okay, but he needed to calm down.

He found Jason later once everything had calmed down, and he screamed at him for disappearing during a rogue attack, if he ever did it again he'll kill him. Then he cried.

The second time it happened, Danny didn't even realize that Jason was gone until everything was already over. They'd been separated before the attack happened. He stopped Robin and Batman before they could leave, trying to keep his breathing under control as he asked again, if they had seen Jason Todd.

"That- that asshole keeps fucking ditching me when these things happen." His voice has an embarrassing wobble in it. "Please-- please tell me you've seen him, that he's alright."

Robin this time steps up to reassure him, that Jason Todd was out of the building. He got him out. "He's probably looking for you too, uhhh..."

"Danny" Danny says, and eyes him up and down. "You're the new Robin right?"

Robin stilled up, and Danny could understand it a little. He'd seen the thoughts on the new Robin online. He wasn't very popular at first. Robin nods curtly, and Batman was shuffled a little closer to him, almost protectively.

Danny grins at him. "Cool." He says, "Me and Jay used to sneak out onto the rooftops sometimes to try and spot Batman and the first Robin, we made it a game." He holds out a fistbump, "Thanks for doing what you do, man. I might not live in Gotham anymore, but I mean it. You're a living legend."

Robin looks like there's something stuck in his throat, and after a beat he returns the fistbump tentatively. "Th- uh, thanks." He stumbles out awkwardly, and then turns away, "Me and B- uh, better go."

Before Danny could even respond, Robin already had his grapple in hand and was grappling away. "You too, Batman." Danny says before Batman can follow.

When Danny sees Jason after that, and weight lifts off his chest and he hits him in the arm again. And then complains that he should have gotten Batman and Robin's autograph, it would have been epic.

By the fifth time it happens, Danny is cussing up a storm when Robin saves him, cursing out Jason and claiming that he needs to put that boy on a fucking leash. "We're a duo!" He scowls when Robin gets him outside, "I got his back, he has mine! I can't have his back when he's got no back to fucking have."

The eighth time it happens, Danny gets held hostage by one of the henchmen. He's become a recognizable friend of the Waynes, and when the Waynes are nowhere to be found, then the next best thing was up to offer. Danny isn't even mad this time around -- just relieved that Jason was fucking off somewhere where he couldn't get hurt.

Robin, however, seemed furious when he arrived, and broke the hostager's jaw with a single flying kick to the face. Jason found him rapidly quick soon after the situation had settled, and apologized over and over again.

Danny slings an arm around his shoulder and laughs that it was fine, Robin saved the day! His legs were shaking with the worn off adrenaline, something he tried to hide from Jason. "I'm just glad it was me instead of you, Jay." He grins. Jason looks like he swallowed a toad.

Jason stops disappearing as often after that, sticking close to Danny's side until the attack was over.

When Danny is fourteen, Jason dies, and his world unravels.

He calls the manor on a late night in April after Jason had stopped responding to his texts. Danny knew that Jason was just recently in a fight with Bruce, but he knows that Bruce loves Jason. He would know where he is, right?

When he calls, Bruce answers with a hoarse "hello?" as if he'd been crying all day, and Danny's blood turns to ice. The anxiety he'd been feeling beforehand doubles in size, and he feels himself stammering.

"Mister- uh- Mister Wayne? Um, I'm calling because Jason--" he hears Bruce inhale sharply on the other line, and his anxiety skyrockets into fear. "--hasn't been answering any of my texts and- and I'm gettin' real worried."

There's silence on the other end, and Danny feels a rock forming in his throat, gross and heavy like he was on the verge of throwing up. "Mister- Bruce? Mister B?"

There's a shaky breath, and then Bruce's voice crackles through the phone. "Um-- Jason, he, he's--" there's a sound like rustling, "he's been killed."

Danny's vision whites out with skyrocketing terror, his mind skidding to a stop. His body rapidly grows hot, and then chills, like a blacksmith striking a heated weapon. "What?"

When the phone call ends, Danny screams himself hoarse. Jazz and his parents come running into his room, his parents equipped with ghost weapons. Instead, they find Danny curled up in his bed, sobbing hoarsely.

Danny almost -- almost -- refuses to attend the funeral, nearly paralyzed with grief. Jazz coaxes him to go, to find closure if anything else, and he drags himself out of bed to go.

He feels numb the entire time. It's closed casket, so he can't even see him for one last time before Jason is buried in the ground. He's silent, and if he think he looks bad, then Bruce looks even worse, like he hadn't slept since Jason died and worse.

Danny grabs his sleeve before he leaves, and when Bruce turns to him with a dull look in his once vibrant eyes, he clings to him tightly. And cries. Bruce clings back just as tight, Danny feels tears drip into his hair.

"Who did it." Danny whispers, voice too hurt to speak any louder, when he pulls back. His fingers curl around Bruce's jacket tightly, desperately. His eyes hurt with tears. "You said he was murdered, B. Please, who did it."

Bruce looks down at him, and for the first time it really does feel like he's looking down at him. His face is blank, and his eyes close in grief. There is no answer, a silent no.

Danny's face twists up all ugly like, and he shakes Bruce's jacket. "Bruce, please. Tell me who did it."

Bruce refuses, his face full of grief.

Danny never returns to Gotham.

Prior to Jason's death and post their reunion, Danny had slowly begun to improve in school. He started caring more, he was putting in more effort, he was doing his homework and was actually enjoying class. There was the bullying from Dash and the A-Listers, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, he was ignoring them for the most part.

Come Monday after the funeral, and Danny breaks Dash's nose when he starts up with his shit. He withdrew into himself, and it was like he was back to square one again, except this time it was much worse.

Everyone knew Danny was close friends with Jason Todd. So when news of his death finally reached the ears of Amity Park, the students of Casper High School kept their distance.

That following Friday, Danny dies in the portal and comes back. A month later he becomes Phantom, the ghost-fighting ghost. the ghost Phantom wears his hazmat suit partially undone, showing a tanktop he didn't wear in death under the initial suit while the sleeves are tied around his waist. Vicious, glowing lichtenburg scars travel up his arm and neck and torso, covering half of his face while a pair of scientist-like goggles covers his eyes. He's bitter and angry, showing off his death.

Look at me, Phantom's form says, I am a dead child. Look at me look at me look at me. Mourn me. I am a dead child. LOOK AT ME. MOURN ME.

A few weeks later he enters the ghost zone and realizes that he could find Jason. And he spends a weekend scouring the ghost zone for him. He finds Gotham in the zone, and rather than finding Jason, he finds Robin.

Danny didn't know he'd died. And he flies towards him, asks him if he's seen Jason, reveals that it's him, Danny Fenton. Robin stares at him, mouth agape, and peels off his mask to reveal Jason Todd.

They both cry, and when Danny tells him how he died, Jason looks pale in the face. "You didn't- you didn't kill yourself because of me, did you?"

Danny fervently denies it. No, no. He didn't, he didn't. It was an accident. Totally unrelated. But enough about that, what the hell happened? Bruce wouldn't tell him anything at the funeral.

Jason clams up, his ghostly face losing its color, and Danny curses himself. He tells Jason that he doesn't have to tell him, he doesn't have to say anything. They sit in silence.

"It was the Joker." Jason says.

That's all Danny needs to know. He nods quietly. 'I'll kill him.' He thinks to himself, a stubborn set in his jaw. "Okay."

It had always been a plan; a thought wriggling in the back of Danny's mind ever since Bruce told him that Jason had been killed.

Not died. Killed.

Danny wanted the fucker dead the moment he realized it. He just needed to know who did it. He thinks Bruce knew it too, could probably see it in his eyes the moment Danny asked him who did it. He isn't sure if he should hate Bruce more for keeping it from him now.

They spend hours together, just soaking in each other's presence. Danny tries to take him through the ghost portal, to bring him back to the land of the living. But much like Kitty, Jason's form is tied to the zone. Danny promises to visit every day.

And he does. Or he tries to. The grief doesn't go away, but with the comfort of knowing that Jason was on the other side, Danny feels a little better. He tells Jason about being Phantom, and Jason helps train him. It feels like they're kids again and are fighting just because they want to. Its a bout of familiarity in a place that feels unfamiliar. All they need are cigarettes.

And then six months later he loses him again. Danny scours the ghost zone for him for the second time, and this time he doesn't find him.

His haunt is still in the zone though. He didn't move on. He's still here, somewhere.

Danny is convinced that Jason was in the Elsewhereness, and looks for him in between ghost fights and his social life. He visits Jason's haunt every day, knowing that Jason should be able to feel when another ghost enters his home. He does not show up.

(He never thinks that Jason came back to life, and Jason doesn't remember his time in the ghost zone)

When Danny is nineteen, Vlad Masters blackmails him into going to another Wayne Gala. Begrudgingly, Danny goes. He's taller than he used to be, having inherited his dad's monstrous height and his mom's leanness. He has piercings, some of them he got after a lost bet from Sam and Tucker, and he's given himself an undercut.

He still prefers vests over suit jackets, and he still smokes. A little less than before, he sneaks a pack into his pocket before he leaves, along with a lighter. Vlad gives him a dirty look the whole time - he knows.

"Don't give me that look." "That stuff kills, you know" "I'm already dead."

It's like deja vu when he arrives; an awful bout of deja vu, that is. The paparazzi is still as bright and loud and annoying as it always was, and they don't recognize him at all. Something he thinks of as a soft mercy up until one of the reporters asks Vlad who he is.

Vlad smiles and tugs Danny into the camera frame, "Why, this is my godson!" He crows, and shoots Danny a look that is downright smug I'm sure many of you may know him as Daniel Fenton?"

If looks could kill, Vlad would be ash. Danny isn't quite sure why he still agreed to this -- blackmail or no. He felt itchy being in Gotham; jumpy. He's never forgotten his vow to kill the Joker, in fact it was something he still desperately wants.

But the threat of Rath, the name he chose for his evil future self, haunts him just as much as his murderous intent. If he kills the Joker, would he stop?

Danny's almost afraid of what he'll do if he ever lays eyes on the Joker in person. He doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from wrapping his hands around that stupid clown's neck and watching the light leave his eyes.

He pushes the thoughts to the side, and smiles lopsidedly as cameras and microphones flood his face, reporters yelling over themselves as they clamor to get a shot of the old Wayne family friend.

Danny turns and walks inside without answering a single question, flexing his fingers in and out of fists. Vlad gracefully hurries after him, and Danny can hear his glare burning into his back.

"You told me to come," Danny hisses to him once he's beside him, meeting Vlad's gaze piercingly, "not that I should play nice."

"Don't embarrass me, Daniel." Vlad hisses back, trying to look the upmost calm as eyes turn onto them. "I'll make you regret it."

"You embarrass yourself, fruitloop." Danny shoots back, walking away before Vlad could get a retort in. He sees Bruce Wayne on the other side of the room.

His heart seizes with nostalgia. He hasn't seen Bruce since Jason's funeral, hasn't spoken to him either. He doesn't know how to feel about him, but he'd been keeping tabs on Bruce both as himself and as Batman.

Danny's feet carry him forwards before he can think about it, silently weaving between the throng of rich people vying for his attention. It's only when he gets closer does he see the little shadow clinging to his side: Damian Wayne.

The newest little bird, Danny realizes, and stifles a smile at the surly expression on Damian's face as two older women coo over him. He reminded him of Sam, who had long since stopped coming to these things the moment she was able to.

The feeling of eyes on him turns Danny's attention away from Damian, and instead finds them back on Bruce's, who stares at him with a little furrow between his brows. As if he recognized him, but he wasn't sure from there.

Danny grins crookedly the moment he's within earshot. "Mister B!" He exclaims, slipping into what remained of his Gotham street accent. Recognition flashed in Bruce's eyes, and the man smiled widely. "Long time no see, old man."

"Danny," Bruce says, his name breathing out like relief. He slips between the crowd surrounding him -- who are now watching Danny -- and pulls Danny into a close hug. "It's good to see you again."

Danny hesitates for a moment -- he wasn't expecting Bruce to hug him -- and returns the gesture. "It's good to see you too, Bruce." He admits. Bruce was still using the same cologne that he did when Danny was a kid. He blinks heavily.

He pulls away quickly, clapping Bruce lightly on the shoulder as Damian quickly latches onto his father's side again. Damian glares daggers at him, fingers digging into Bruce's pantlegs like a possessive little kid.

He made Danny's ghost sense tingle in the back of his throat, creeping up slowly like a spider before stopping suddenly before it reached his mouth. It hummed, and then disappeared.

Danny smothered a frown. Since when did Batman work with ectoplasm? “This must be Damian." He says to Bruce, and holds out a hand to Damian -- he doesn't crouch, he had a feeling that Damian would be less than appreciative if he did that. "You've really expanded the nest since the last time I saw you."

Damian's eyes narrow at him. Bruce laughs lightly, "Ah yes, Tim is around here somewhere. I'm sure you'll see him soon."

"Father," Damian says, his voice layered with an accent. He glares up at Danny with piercing green eyes. "How do you know this man?" He sounds distrustful, Danny respects that and drops his hand.

"This is Danny Fenton." Bruce says, and Danny lets him introduce him. "He was Jason's friend."

An expression similar to bewilderment flashes briefly over Damian's face, and he eyes Danny in disbelief. "Todd had friends?"

Oh. So that's how he wanted to be. Bruce had a little elitist on his hands. Danny's smile drops like a deadweight, and any lingering endearment he had hardens like ice in his chest, fury slowly taking its place like a flickering candlelight. "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead, Mister Wayne." He says coldly, his voice made of chips of ice.

Damian blinks, the disbelief disappearing from his face. The closest thing to a recoil Danny thinks he's going to get. He doesn't care. No one speaks about his best friend that way.

"I grew up with Jason, actually." He continues, breathing in slow and deep, trying to keep the ghostly possessive-protective-rage under control. "I was his best friend."

He turns, almost robotically, towards Bruce, and tries not to look so angry. "I'm going to go find Tim, Mister B." He says, and tries to offer up a weak smile for the man. It comes out as a grimace instead.

"And..." he pauses, flicks his eyes towards Damian, and then looks at Bruce. "I'll... try and keep in contact, B. Tell Dick I said hi, alright? I'll see you in a little bit."

Bruce nods, looking vaguely disappointed and sighing slow through his nose. Danny walks away as Bruce turns to address his youngest, and doesn't bother listening in on what he has to say.

He does, eventually, find Tim Drake. He spots him in a crowd instantly - it's hard not to, and he makes his way over to him. He's not sure Tim Drake would recognize him, Bruce didn't at first and Danny had been around him constantly.

Except Tim Drake does recognize him, much to Danny's surprise. They lock eyes and Tim immediately makes his way over to him. "Danny Fenton!" He says and stops in front of him, "What a surprise, we weren't expecting you tonight."

"Tim Drake," Danny replies, smiling a little as his earlier hurt begins to fade away. "I'm surprised you know me."

"There are pictures of you in the manor with Jason." Tim explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets with an easy-going smile. "It's hard not to know you."

"It’s hard not to know you too,” Danny retorts, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. “Although you’re a lot taller than you used to be, when you were lurking around Bruce and Jason and I.”

Ohhh Danny recognizes him alright. One part due to all the news articles and tabloids on him after he was adopted by Bruce, and the other part because he remembers the little shadow lurking near plants pots and table legs that used to follow him and Jason around at galas just like these.

Knowing that Jason was Robin, he wonders if Jason knew he was there too.

The effect is immediate: Tim’s eyes grow comically large, and a red tint glows at the tip of his ears as he shrinks back like a turtle trying to hide into its shell. “You— you noticed that!?” He hisses.

“I did!” Danny grins, large and wide, stifling a laugh as the red tint spreads over Tim’s cheeks and nose. He looks mortified. Danny coos. “Aww, I thought it was adorable that Jason had a little shadow. I’m sure he would have loved you if you had just come over and said hi. He had a big soft spot for kids.”

Tim snorts and it— it almost sounds derisive? “Sure he would.” He looks sad, and the mirth in Danny’s chest shrivels up like a flower without light. The smile fades from his face, and all that’s left is a strange, staunch reminder that Danny and Bruce weren’t the only ones that probably mourned.

He touches Tim’s shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m sorry.” He says, trying to look as apologetic as he feels. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m sorry, I miss him too.” Like a fucking limb he missed him.

There’s something that flickers in Tim’s eyes, passing through too fast for Danny to realize what it is. He assumes its gratefulness, because Tim relaxes a little and offers him a weak little smile. “I wish I had talked to him.”

Danny sees an out and takes it, he forces out a short laugh, grinning widely. “I can tell you all about him if you’d like,” he offers, “I told Mister B I’d keep in touch anyways. I’ve missed him and Alfred quite a lot in the last few years.”

“Not Dick?”

“That dipstick wasn’t around often enough for me to form any sort of emotional attachment to him.” Danny says in a half-complaining tone, placing his hands on his hips. “Although I did like his puns.”

Tim snickers, “I’ll tell him you said that then. Nobody likes his puns.”

“Go on ahead,” Danny grins, laughter swirling in his chest and making his core thrum with warmth. Damn, he’s missed this family. “I stand by my decision. Puns are funny.”

“Let’s get a photo then.” Tim says with a hand already fishing in his pocket for his phone. “He’ll be devastated to know that you were here and he didn’t get to see you.”

“Sure.” And Danny sidles on next to Tim, throwing an arm around his shoulders — and making a noise of surprise when his arm was able to fit comfortably — as if he was just resting it on a counter.

He totally forgot how tall he was compared to Tim. Forgot that he’d been looking down the entire time they’d been talking. “Why’d I get my dad’s height.” He complains, and bends his knees as Tim raises the phone with the front-facing camera on.

Tim snickers under his breath, and takes the picture while they’re both smiling wide. Danny immediately stands up, and peers over Tim’s shoulders to look at the picture.

It’s a good one, with the fringe of Danny’s curls falling slightly over his left eye and making the dimple on his right cheek more prominent. He could see the barely-there smattering of freckles he had across his nose, the ones that became more prominent when the sun was out. His smile was lopsided, Danny’s favorite kind of smile.

He whistles lowly, “That’s a good one,” he says aloud, and smiles impishly at Tim when he looks at him. “You should send that one, I look hot in it.”

Tim snorts, his ears reddening as he looks down at his phone. “Yeah sure, no problem.” He says quickly, and Danny looks away when he pulls up the messenger app. He’s never felt comfortable looking over people’s shoulders when they were on their phone.

“I’m gonna go take a smoke break.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and curls his fingers around the box and lighter inside. “I’ll—��

“Be on the west-end balcony.” Tim finishes, the red in his ears darkening as he glances up from his phone to smile embarrassedly. “I know.”

Danny snorts, “Okay.” His voice is thick with amusement. “Let me know how Dipstick reacts, alright?” He backs up slowly, awaiting Tim’s response. Tim merely waves a hand at him, a weak gesture of “yeah yeah” that makes Danny grin before he flips around and marches towards his favorite smoking balcony.

———————

(Tim pulls up the family group chat and loads the selfie into the text bar. His face feels warm with embarrassment even as his thumbs fly across the screen.

Tim: look who i found at the latest charity gala :) [image]

Hee awaits eagerly a response, and finds he doesn’t have to wait long. Dick’s thought bubble appears on screen, then Cass’s — of which it only exists for a moment before disappearing.

Dick: holy shit, is that who i think it is?

Tim responds quickly, and his message sends.

Tim: yep. He wanted me to tell you that he thinks your jokes are funny.

Dick: they are funny

Tim rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment, really thinks. He weighs his pros and cons. And then his fingers fly across the screen again.

Tim: hey Jason are you not gonna say anything?

There’s no response for all of thirty seconds — of which it stretches on to an uncomfortably long minute — and then Jason’s thought bubble appears.

Jason: what do i have to say to a bunch of idiots blowing up my phone in the middle of patrol?

Tim: harsh. do you recognize the guy in the photo?

Jason’s response is instant. Too fast for him to have actually looked at the photo itself. He’s just trying to spite Tim then. Tim doesn’t care, he has the upper hand here

Jason: no and I don’t care, i have patrol

Tim knows he didn’t look at the photo, and yet he can’t help stifle a shit-eating smile and feign innocence

Tim: really? You and Danny used to be so close, color me surprised

His teeth dig into his lower lip, he doesn’t need to in order to hide a smile. But it gives him something to do. Jason is worryingly silent for a long, long time, and Tim can almost imagine him staring long and hard at the selfie. Tim knows he will be later.

Finally, Jason’s text bubble shows up. It exists for a long time, before finally Tim’s phone buzzes with his message alert.

Jason: that’s danny?

Tim feels all too gleeful. Smugness swirling in his chest like kicked up sand as he types his response: yep! Apparently he showed up today, although I’m not sure with who since I don’t see Miss Manson around here.

Damian: Father says to get off your phone, Drake. We are at a Gala and your behavior is most unbecoming

Tim: can it demon spawn, I was just telling Jason that his friend Danny is here

Damian: He can’t be too important if he doesn’t even know Todd is alive

Tim: how would you know that?

Damian: When Father introduced him as Todd’s friend, I expressed my surprise that Todd even had friends, considering how unpleasant he can be. Fenton became quite cross with me after that and quickly excused himself thereafter

Dick: you said what!? Damian that’s not okay

Damian: Father made that quite clear after Fenton left in a huff. My mistake for thinking that Todd had told his ‘supposed best friend’ that he was alive.

Dick: he didn’t even tell us we were alive at first

Damian: He did eventually, didn’t he? Clearly Todd doesn’t seem to care too much about Fenton if he hasn’t even informed him of his being alive at this point.

Jason’s thought bubble quickly pops up, and then dissipates, then pops up again. Tim quickly pockets his phone before he can see Jason’s response. He doesn’t feel smug anymore, just uncomfortable.)

———————

Stepping out onto the west-end balcony feels like a blast from the past. A painful one at that. Danny’s fingers dig into his cigarette pack, and he pulls it out with a sense of bittersweet familiarity.

It feels like a lifetime ago that he once stood here with Jason. The package clunks dully as his fingers scrape against the side, and he fishes a cigarette out of the box before stuffing it back into his pocket.

“Quite the night isn’t it.” He says to nothing, to ghosts of the past, to himself. He turns and sits on the railing, sticking his legs out like a tripping hazard while Gotham’s hot city wind blows through the air.

He looks up and only sees the ugly pollution yellow sky looking down at him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to him. He loves the stars and yet when faced with a smog that covers it, he feels more at home.

Danny’s fingers find the lighter, and with a few clicks a small open flame appears in existence. There’s a poem here, he can feel it. But he feels too tired to find it.

The cigarette lights, and the lighter dies in response. Returning back to his coffin-like pocket until he needs to use it again. He pulls a leg up, resting his chin on his knee with a heavy, tired sigh.

He soaks in the sounds around him. The ugly city warmth nips at his jaw. The music inside is muffled by the force of two glass doors and walls on all four sides, and Danny can hear late night traffic coming by on the road nearby. It’s a special kind of ambience you can only find on the west end balcony.

Half a decade ago, Danny had played a part with that ambience with Jason. Now it was just him, and Jason was nowhere to be found. It left a hopeless kind of feeling in his chest. An all-suffocating kind of fear that filled him head to toe with an intensity only ghosts could have.

His body winds up like a spring, and Danny holds his breath. When he exhales two minutes later, the spring stutters and jolts, and his body relaxes with a tremble.

He misses Jason. He misses Jason.

Ghosts are emotional creatures. They feel it from their crown to their soles. And emotional wounds never really heal. They scab over and fester, waiting to be picked at again and again so it can bleed as fresh as it did when it first opened.

Danny’s grief is never going to go away, he thinks. It’s clung to him like a parasite; shaped him and molded him. The wound was too close to him when he died, and now it will stay with him forever.

He opens his eyes when his ghost sense tingles, a heavy feeling in his throat that is neither nicotine nor grief. It’s just like Damian’s, but stronger. Potent. Older. It reaches the top of Danny’s throat and sits at the base of his tongue, like a hand about to suffocate him.

He looks up, cigarette hanging off his lips, and the Red Hood drops down beside him. He stands in the same spot Jason once did, and that alone makes the ghostly core in Danny seize possessively.

Don’t you dare stand where he stood, it hisses, coiling around his lungs like smog. Danny grits his teeth and feels his ghost sense evaporate. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and nicotine smoke pours out like a cheap version of his ghost sense.

“Red Hood.” He says plainly, his free hand coiling and uncoiling like cat’s claws against the railing. “A surprise to see you here.”

Danny knows through process of elimination who most of the Gotham vigilantes are: Dick is Nightwing, Bruce is Batman, Tim is Red Robin, Damian is Robin, and Cass is Orphan. There are a few who he doesn’t know, however. Like Batgirl and Red Hood.

It’s fine, he doesn’t need to know. Danny of all people understands the importance of a secret identity.

Red Hood doesn’t say anything, just stares at him as if he’s a deer in headlights. His body all tensed up like he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here in front of Danny. Like he wasn’t expecting Danny to be here at all.

Danny’s brows furrow. “Sorry, am I in your spot?” He asks, and begins to push off the railing. “I didn’t think vigilantes used the Wayne Hall west-end balcony, I can leave if you want.”

He’s already begun to move towards the door.

The Red Hood lurches in his spot, “No!” He yells, and Danny stops in place with raising eyebrows. Red Hood’s fingers cringe, and he straightens up.

He’s shorter than Danny, he notes. Which isn’t much of revelation. Everyone is shorter than Danny.

“No,” Red Hood repeats, sounding sturdier than before, “No. You’re fine. I’m just stopping here for a quick rest before resuming patrol.”

…Danny doesn’t question it. It’s none of his business about other vigilantes and their practices. He shrugs and breathes out more smoke, “Alright.” He says, and walks back over to the railing to sit on it. “I’m Danny, by the way.”

The Red Hood nods, and a silence falls over them. Danny doesn’t care enough to make it feel uncomfortable, but the Red Hood seems unsettled by something. Lost in thought. He leans his back against the railing similar to Danny, and then switches a few seconds later to a new pose.

He does it again, and again, and again. Until finally he flips over and leans his stomach against the railing, arms resting against it. It is starkly like what Jason used to do, and Danny stares at him long and hard.

He frowns. And says nothing.

When Danny’s cigarette is nothing more than a butt of nicotine, he crushes it in his hand and watches the ash flutter down to the ground. The heat stings his hand, but its nothing his ghostly healing can’t fix.

The Red Hood is already holding out another one when Danny’s hand drifts to his pocket for the box.

Danny stares at him, sudden wariness opening up like floodgates that sit at the bottom of his stomach.

His frown deepens, his eyes flicker up and down at Red Hood. His hands hover over his pocket. “I have my own.” He says, and watches subtly as the Red Hood hides a wilt. As if he’d been expecting Danny to take it.

“Alright.” The Red Hood says, trying to sound unbothered. He retracts the cigarette away from Danny, quiet all the way. He’s looking away.

Danny plucks the cigarette out of his hand, startling the Hood enough that Red snaps back to look at him. Danny yanks his lighter from his pocket. “I won’t say no to a free cigarette.” He says, slightly muffled with the stick between his teeth. It lights.

Silence falls over them again, and when one minute stretches into five, whatever hope that had been digging into the shoulders of Red Hood finally pulls away and leaves him slumping subtly.

‘A ciggie for your thoughts?’ Nine year old Jason Todd whispers one night with an impish grin, holding up a cigarette pinched between his two fingers. ‘I stole it from my old man. He won’t even notice its gone.’

Danny is halfway through it when he speaks. “The Joker killed my best friend.” He says, and watches from the corner of his eye as the Red Hood flinches. Is he startled by Danny speaking, or startled by the bluntness of him starting?

“He beat him to death.” Danny continues, staring stone-faced away from Red Hood. His grief claws up his lungs and burrows into his heart again. His fingers dig into the railing. “He beat my best friend to death.”

The Red Hood is silent, his body as still as the grave. Silence stretches out between them both, and like he’d been thinking, the Hood finally speaks: “How do you know?”

He’s not holding the cigarette, he broke his and Jason’s rule. Danny bounces the stick between his fingers. “His ghost told me.” He says, taking a trembling breath. “His ghost told me so, before he disappeared.”

The Red Hood says nothing, and Danny gathers his thoughts. The ones that had been buried deep next to his core, shoved down ever since Danny learned of Rath and a terrible future where a world is destroyed by one ghost’s hands.

Danny has never said it out loud before. His face scrunches up briefly, and then smooths out when his eyes squeeze shut. “I’m going to kill him, Red Hood.” He murmurs when he opens his eyes, turning his face toward the vigilante. The sound is sucked out of the air.

The Red Hood stares at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Danny pushes on, teeth grinding into teeth as he flips his silvery scarred hand back and forth. Palm up, palm down. “It’s why I haven’t been back to Gotham in a while.” He admits, voice still quiet. “If I see the Joker I will kill him, and I won’t feel bad for it.”

“Not today though,” he says, and closes his hand, “today I’m here on a favor to Vlad Masters. Then after this I’ll go visit my friend. I need to apologize for not seeing his grave in a while. I’ll have to stop by a florist to see if they have any zinnias. Jay likes those.”

He takes out the cigarette in his mouth and breathes out one last cloud of smoke. And then he crushes the cigarette stick under his foot and walks back inside.

#childhood friends au #undead on main #fun fact i made dan's name 'rath' because i Hate the name Dan #raaa my friend had sk8 infinity on and distracted me from the brrrr of responding so now i feel like none of these are satisfying answers #eagerly awaiting your response #all of this is making me think about my 'danny is a jason todd variant' au because THAT has some angst to it specifically over Danny meetin #the average Jason Todd other version of him #Danny (or jay as i like to call him) as Jason wants what Jason has: people who mourn him and address the fact that he's died #Mfer danny’s death in this (the childhood friends one) au is making me think SO much #he mentions his parents built a portal in his basement at lunch and Sam and Tucker think thats crazy #and he goes ‘do you wanna see if?’ and takes them to it after school #his friends are marvelling at everything in the lab bc they’ve never been down here #and Danny’s kinda just staring at the portal with his hands in his pockets #he hasn’t slept since he heard the news of Jason’s death. he looks so tired and sad with circles under his eyes #tucker says the portal looks so creepy because its unlit and looks like it goes on forever. its a tunnel #danny half smiles tiredly and goes ‘wanna see me go inside it?’ bc hey why the fuck not. who cares anymore it doesnt work ghosts arent real #would he even bother putting on a hazmat suit? would he just go inside? would that change how his ghost form looks even more now?#and he goes inside when normally he wouldnt even think about stepping foot near the lab door. but who cares jason is dead and it feels like #there’s a hole where his heart is. like the sun just died. what is he supposed to do now? he doesn’t even care what happens at this point #imagine his first thought upon being ghosted isnt ‘i died’ its ‘ghosts are real? can i see jason again?’#does he have two ghost forms now? one where he’s phantom and another where he’s still phantom but his grief is more prominent?#tears scarred into his cheeks? he takes off his goggles and his eyes are filled out with green no sclera or iris in sight? or is it like #those animatics where its sketched out holes that run at a lower fps than the rest of the animatic? meant to represent his grief? is the ho #in his heart more visible? raaaaagh this is giving me so many delicious thoughts. might be able to answer that dan and vlad question soon #listening to crybaby by melanie martinez while listening to this and thinking about danny #RAAAA ARE HIS TEARS MADE OF INK TO REPRESENT HIS LETTERS TO JASON? i keep having to edit this post because i keep getting MORE ideas #is his ghostly wail the same scream when he died or when he found out jason did? SO MANY THOUGHTS

2K notes · View notes

unacknowledgeable · 5 days ago

Text

Serial killer reader x yan!Batfam (bc who doesn’t like seeing reader finally go batshit crazy?)

This idea has been bouncing around my head for a while, so Imma toss it out here. A slim layout of it and testing the waters ig lol

WARNING for disturbing imagery, animal abuse, broken bones, mentions of child neglect (obviously)

Reader arrives at the manor at the ripe ol’ age of 8, near fresh off the crime scene of their mothers murder

None of the transition is handled well, which, its Gotham so what do you expect really, so no real systems are put in place to help this child not only deal with a brand new environment, but also having just watched your mom brutally murdered in front of you

Bruce is already 5 years deep into batmanning shenanigans, with Dick 4 years into being robin

Since you weren't as obviously volatile as Dick was when his parents were murdered, Bruce didn't really see letting you in on the nightly activities as necessary

You never really pushed hard for a relationship with Bruce, believing that he was distant because you were not a choice, unlike Dick.

Your mom used to get like that, sometimes. she’d always been truthful about you being an accident, would close herself off for awhile, but at least she always came back, or she use too

You had Alfred, sure, but his experience with grieving children mostly involved allowing them to swear vengeance on all crime sooo, he’s more of a “I'll try to solve your problem, even though what you're needing is someone to comfort and listen to you”

But you can't really fix the problem of a very dead mother

So you’re never really given a space to process, and it definitely festers

So what is a small child left to do with no real outlet for the terrible things they've witnessed? Well… recreation is a start.

You were left to your own devices quite often, and the manors grounds are so so big, so it's easy to see how you got away with your… activities, for awhile

Squirrels, birds, frogs, any animal small enough to fit into your tiny little hands, all met their end by them

It isn't until you’re a few years into your new school, that you catch a bird and show your classmates just how fragile and “cute” its bones were, and the funny little tweets it made when you snapped them

And your friends try to stop you, saying its wrong and mean, that the tight grip you have on the bird is "hurting” it, that you’re crazy and horrible

So you decide to just show your friends how wrong they are, that it's just a game

Soon, the teacher comes running over at the sounds of shouts and screaming, and finds a child with a broken arm, and a robin with a broken neck

With the reader stood above them, yelling that their friends aren't playing the game right

……………………………………

Alfred is the one who comes to get you, as Bruce is busy with something and he’s just absolutely beside himself, how did this happen? How hadn't he noticed anything?

He rushes through the necessities, assuring that all damages will be paid for, agrees to have you transferred to a different class then the boys whose arm you broke instead of being expelled (the wonders of unimaginable wealth)

The drive back to the manor (manor, not home, never home) is quiet, the silence is suffocating, for both of you,

You’re mostly confused, you never really hid your “games” while at the manor, at least not on purpose, you'd just always wash up before going inside, not wanting to get anything dirty

And Alfred is angry, mostly at himself, he prided himself on his ability to see everything, to always know, but this? He was completely blindsided.

So yes he's angry, not really at you, but you don't know that, you can only see the slight shake of his shoulders, the white knuckled grip on the wheel, the frown pulling his wrinkled face and the furrow of his brow

And all you hear is the quiet, ”Never do such a thing again”, as the car pulled up the driveway to the manor

That very night, Bruce brings Jason to the manor

And the urgent conversation Alfred planned on having with Bruce fell to the wayside

That's some of what I’ve got so far lol, there's… a lot more honestly. The brain worms are hard at work. Hope you enjoyed!

441 notes · View notes

yan-randomfandom · 4 months ago

Note

Hi! Is it possible to get a platonic Yandere Stanford with a teenager reader? The reader likes mysteries and monsters and all that just like him, so Stanford sees them and he’s like ‘yup. That’s my kid now’ lol

P!Yandere!Stanford Pines & Teenager!GN!Reader

warnings: violence(toward monsters), implied abuse

[THIS IS PLATONIC] I think I made this a tad too long... it's not even in bullet form anymore. thank you for the request! I love your idea sm 😭 [Word Count: 1047]

Stanford Pines has completed another mission. He lifted his head, his eyes squinting at the sight of the looming trees. The sun peeked between them, visibly on its way down.

To keep it short, he had to chase a dangerous, vile monster into the woods and take its life.

He probably saved thousands of lives. It's just that... it came down to the price of being lost. Ford has never gone this far from Gravity Falls before.

That's totally okay. Curious, even! This is perfect material for his research! He'll have to use a makeshift one for now—this cheap notebook he got from the gift shop.

As he was about to start writing, a panicked roar reverberated throughout the forest. Such strong growls—enough to blow away his clothes and body! Ford had to see it with his own eyes!

He ran and ran until he finally saw the giant. A single, widened eye stared at him, and suddenly he couldn't move anymore. Heavy breaths rose and plunged from his chest.

But he didn't have to worry any longer. A figure hopped down, continuously slicing the middle part of the eye as they descended.

Ford grunted, falling on his back as its blood squirted and leaked, even having some splatter on his nose. He watched the monster turn and run away, knowing that it'd die soon enough.

"Woah! Grandpa, you okay?" A small hand filled Ford's vision. "You froze up pretty quickly. I bet you'd be dead if I wasn't here!"

Once his vision finally cleared, he paused at the sight of a teenager. He's never seen this kid before. Ford cleared his throat, accepting your hand and standing up. "I'm fine. And don't call me that."

You hummed, tilting his open wallet with a nod. "I dunno. Being in your sixties sounds pretty old to me."

"What? How— When— Give me that!" Ford swiped his wallet out of you, to which you respond with a silly grin. He scoffed, crossing his arms. This is such a Stanley thing to do. "Who are you even, kid? Why are you out here?"

"I'm out adventuring!" you declared, placing your fists on your hips. You do certainly have equipment fit for an adventurer. "I mean, did you see me back there? Killed that monster with one swipe!"

Ford rubbed his chin in deep thought. He smiled. "That was pretty impressive. It reminds me of my nephew. You've gone straight towards the monster's weak point."

Unbeknownst to him, your face starts heating up from the praise. You've never received positive reactions from your oh-so-dangerous hobbies. "Well, yeah! It's no big deal. Eyes are usually common for being weak."

Ford chuckled. "Anyway, do you know the direction to Gravity Falls? I may be a little lost."

"Course, duh! It's like... that way! Opposite of the sun," you grinned, pointing behind him. He turned around to check, his shoulders slumping. You touched his nose with a grin when he looked back at you. What a Mabel type of personality. You were really just removing the monster's blood, though. "Boop!"

...Okay.

One glance at the sky, and Ford knew that there's no way he's going to go home at this time. While he loved adventuring, especially at night, he's still in undiscovered territory and would very much like to go home in one piece.

"Alrightnicetomeetyoudude! Byeeee! Good luck!" you exclaimed, already waving at him and walking away.

Wait! You're his only ticket out!

"Pray tell, kid, are you alone? Don't you have guardians or friends tagging along?" he asked hastily.

"Naw. I have parents waiting for me back home, though," you smiled.

Ford somehow convinced you to bring him home to yours.

Now, you stood in front of your house with him by your side. The older man couldn't help but notice that you looked a bit anxious, weirdly enough. You're scratching your arm.

The door finally opened. The first thing Ford saw was a frustrated face of an older woman, which was swiftly wiped when she took note of his presence. How odd.

"Oh, sweetie, who's this with you?"

"Found him in the woods! Isn't he neat?"

"Let's talk for a bit. Please give us a moment," the woman smiled at Ford, grabbing you before closing the door on him.

Ford awkwardly stood outside the house, checking his watch. Faint voices reached his ears. That's your mother, yes? She sounded upset. You sounded upset. He hasn't been in this dimension in a while, but would it really be so bad to take home a man you haven't met? He's just literally lost!

You opened the door. He froze when he met your tear-filled eyes.

"Sorry, whatever-your-name-is. I can't let you in," you muttered meekly. "But you can wait for me tomorrow. I'll help you go home. Bye."

The door closed. Why were you crying? That's not right.

Next day.

Ford waited for you on your front porch, mindlessly writing in his notebook. He had to sleep on a makeshift cushion of laundry. It wasn't the worst place to sleep, and he's just glad he didn't get caught.

"Good morning! You're early today!" you beamed, already walking.

"Is there anything I should know about your parents?" he deadpanned, trailing next to you.

You got uncomfortable quickly. "Uh, next question? Hey, look, a parasite! So weird!"

"Don't touch that! I can't believe it ranges up to here!"

The journey towards Gravity Falls felt long and tiring. But it simply made you and Ford closer.

"What's your name again?"

"Ford. Just call me Ford."

"For— Holy shit! I didn't even notice earlier! You have five fingers and a thumb!"

"Please—" he hid his hand in reflex.

"Six cylinders on your hand! That's so cool, Ford!"

Ford simply sighed, a smile growing on his lips.

Eventually, you both reach the mystery shack.

"Woah... That's yours? No wonder why you're so used to being in the woods. You live in one!"

Ford chuckled, opening the front door. "I can safely say you're going to get along with my family, kid."

...

You paused, hesitating. "I can't. I have to go home."

...

He smiled sweetly. "Not even for dinner? It'll be quick."

Your stomach growled quite loudly, causing your cheeks to heat up. "Okay, fine. Maybe a little."

Stepping right into the shack, Ford shuts the door behind you. He can't let you go back in that godforsaken house. You looked too miserable.

You can be happy with the Pines family here.

#yanyan drabble #platonic yandere #yandere #yandere gravity falls x reader #stanford pines x reader #ford pines x reader #stanford pines #ford pines #yandere stanford pines x reader #yandere ford pines x reader

886 notes · View notes

absurdthirst · 3 months ago

Text

Halloween Cowboy {Joel Miller x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: Idiots in love, crushing, putting your foot in your mouth, embarrassment, flirtation, Younger Joel, drinking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex

Comments: Tommy and his girlfriend, your best friend, manage to get you and your sexy neighbor Joel at the same Halloween party.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Joel Miller MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Cmon man. You gotta come. Lindsey wants to meet you and I can’t keep makin’ up excuses for my big brother not wanting to meet my girl.” Tommy whines while he stands over Joel who is trying to read the plans for the bathroom redo.

“Tommy. I’m tryin’ - Jesus. Is it really that damn important?” He asks his brother after taking his glasses off of his nose.

“Yeah. Sarah is going to sleep over at her friend Tori’s house, right? You’ll be sitting on your own with the curtains closed to ward off trick or treaters while watching Dawn of the Dead for the hundredth time…you ain’t busy.” Tommy calls Joel out who signs and sets his glasses down on the table.

“Fine. Fine. If it’s that damn important I’ll go but, shit. I don’t have a costume.” He confesses and Tommy smirks, “that’s easy. You’re already wearing it.” He eyes the construction belt and hard hat and Joel scoffs but takes a second, “I got a cowboy hat. And boots.” He decides and Tommy snorts, “rodeo Joel is making an appearance. Haven’t seen that since high school when you were trying to impress Katie.” Joel huffs, trying to not snap at his brother at mentioning his ex wife whose parents owned a ranch.

“Sorry.” Tommy murmurs and Joel shrugs, “I’ll be there.” He promises, picking up his glasses again and Tommy grins, not mentioning the best part until he’s about to walk away. “Oh and your pretty neighbor will be there. Lindsey invited her.”

****

“Why do I have to go again?” You whine to Lindsey even as you are mixing together the cream cheese with the salsa to make roll ups. It’s one of your best appetizers to throw together quickly and are always a hit. She snorts and rolls her eyes at you. “You need to get out and socialize. You need to have some fun since you broke up with dickhead.” She had never hidden the fact that she thought your ex wasn’t good enough for you. Only now would you admit that she’s right, but you still huff at her. “What am I supposed to do? Pick up someone from your party and take them home?”

“Or you could use my guest room?” She waggles her eyebrows, “and I do believe the man you’ll be riding in there will be called Joel.” She smirks and you nearly choke, “no. No. I don’t - he doesn’t -” Lindsey giggles, “Tommy said the man watches your every damn move from his porch. Watches your ass when you walk past. Trust me, honey. The man wants you. He’s just got issues from his ex leaving.” She explains, knowing Tommy has briefly told her about what happened with Katie. “You don’t need to be his therapist to get some.” She says and nudges you.

****

Joel huffs as he looks at himself in the mirror. The checkered shirt is buttoned up unlike its usual openness when he has a t-shirt underneath. The large belt buckle his dad got him as a present was dug out from the back of his underwear drawer, and the boots are comfortable, worn in thankfully from regular use. The hat is on the side and he grabs it, putting it on his head to see how it looks. He looks like teenage Joel and that scares him. How eager he was to impress a girl. Too eager in fact that she left the first moment she could, leaving him with a two month old when he was twenty years old. “Shit.” He sighs, rubbing his jaw, knowing he will see you. He knows he’s jaded, he’s a single dad with issues and he knows you’d never want him. He’s too complicated. With a huff, he grabs the lasso he got from Tommy as a joke a few years ago and leaves his house to go to the party.

“I think real cuffs would have been better.” You huff to yourself, hating how the ties on these Wonder Woman wrist cuffs keep coming loose. The party hasn’t even started yet and you want to just go home. Not that Lindsey would let you. “Tie this for me.” You demand, holding your wrist out. “If I’m going to be Wonder Woman, I need to be a put together, sexy version of her.”

Joel isn't early. He doesn't like to be early to parties since he can't disappear into a crowd and leave early. He sighs after he parks his truck down the street, his boots clicking as he walks up the driveway until he is opening the door. The party is already underway and he squeezes past people drinking and making out and talking to try and find Tommy.

“Coming through, coming through!” You yank the platter of appetizers higher, needing to get over to the table and refill them although people won’t seem to get out of your way. The party is bigger than what Lindsey had told you it would be and she’s already glued to Tommy’s side, leaving you to kind of run things. Someone comes up to your right, just out of your vision as you veer off to avoid a couple who are groping each other. “Shit!” You hiss, bumping into someone and having to spin around to keep the tray from hitting the ground and ruining the snacks.

“Woah. Shit.” Joel hisses and barely catches the tray as you spin around and grab the other side. His eyes widen when he sees you, dressed like Wonder Woman with eyes wide and beautiful. “Hey.” He murmurs, keeping his grip on the tray and you offer him a gorgeous smile, “hey neighbor.” Someone knocks into him and he steadies the tray. “Let me help. Tell me where you want this and I’ll make sure no one knocks this over.” He promises, keeping his grip tight.

“Hey.” You smile breathlessly, a little shocked and release the tray to him because of that. “Um, yeah, uh, right over there.” You point to the table in the corner and try to figure out if you need to hide in embarrassment or get the man a drink for helping you out. He looks fucking delicious and Lindsey’s comments about riding him are fucking perfect considering Joel Miller is out here dressed up like a fucking cowboy. Your panties are going to be ruined tonight, thinking about him.

Joel wrestles with the crowd to set the tray down and he turns to see you’ve followed him. “Who the hell did Tommy and Lindsey invite? The whole damn town?” He almost has to shout to compete with the chatter and the music. “Seems like it. I only made enough food for a small gathering.” You confess and Joel turns to look at the tray, “you did all that?” He asks and you nod, biting your lip. “Goddamn. You’re like Martha Stewart. But hot.” He adds until he flusters and reaches up to adjust his hat. “Uh, I mean, you look good. As Wonder Woman. I had this massive crush on Linda Carter when I was a kid and uh, yeah. You look good.” He repeats, silently cursing himself for being so lame as Sarah would say.

You want to laugh at the way Joel looks ready to punch himself in the face for being stupid, but you like seeing him like this. “Thanks.” You reach out and touch his arm. “You look really hot too. You’re going to be beating them off with a stick dressed like this, Miller.” You predict, knowing you would be the first in line if you had half a chance at him. “We’ll be dreaming of cowboy lullabies tonight.”

Joel blushes, grateful for the cowboy hat to hide it, and he gets a sudden boost of confidence. “Yeah? You think I’d have a chance with someone at the party? Even though I got more baggage than Bush Airport?” He jokes and you scoff, “everyone has baggage.” He nods, staring at you for a moment and he opens his mouth to ask if you want to find somewhere quieter to talk but a hand slaps his shoulder and he turns to see his brother. “You made it! And dressed up!” Tommy exclaims, clearly a little drunk and his arm wrapped around a beautiful woman. “This is Lindsey. Baby, this is the mysterious big brother I’ve been telling you about.” Lindsey grins and holds her hand out, “it’s great to finally meet you, Joel. Tommy can’t shut up about you.” She teases before she says your name, “and she’s always talking about her sexy neighbor. You’re the talk of the town.” Lindsey teases and Joel’s eyes widen slightly as he looks towards you.

“Lindsey.” You groan your friend’s name, face heating up and you want the earth to open and swallow you whole. “I think you might need to drink some water.” You huff, snatching her cup out of her hand and quickly drinking it down yourself. Hoping that Joel doesn’t think that you are some kind of creepy stalker or some shit.

Lindsey’s words make his stomach twist and Tommy smirks at him, knowing about his crush on his neighbor, and he squeezes Lindsey’s hand until she lets go and turns to look at Tommy. “Come on baby. Let’s get you another drink. Enjoy the party. See you in a bit. Mingle.” Tommy urges his older brother who has the habit of hiding in the corner. “Sure.” Joel nods and watches Tommy take Lindsey to the kitchen. “I need a drink.” Joel mutters to himself before he looks at you, “you know where the booze is?”

“Yeah,” Despite being embarrassed, you won’t let him go without a drink. “It’s out here.” You point to the patio door. “We’ve got a small pony keg if you want beer and then there’s tequila.” You huff out a laugh. “That’s what I plan on drinking.” You joke as you open the door. “Listen- uh, about what she said? I just- I don’t want you to think that I’m watching you all the time or something.”

Joel looks at you as he follows you to the drinks table. He was shocked to hear you watch him and you being flustered makes his heart thump. “I’m watching you.” He confesses, “not in a creepy way but - but yeah. I like watching you.” He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly burning up in the flannel shirt.

You freeze for a second as you reach for a cup, relieved and slightly surprised to find out that Tommy and Lindsey were right. Now that you both have admitted embarrassing things, you laugh and shake your head. “I think we are way too sober right now.” You tease and waggle a cup at him. “What’ll you have before we discuss further?”

“Anything with alcohol.” He teases and picks up his own cup, filling it with cheap whiskey and topping it off with some Coke. “Happy Halloween.” He grins and hits your cup with his. “Happy Halloween, neighbor.” You smirk and he takes a sip of his drink, sighing at the sting of the whiskey.

You ask where Sarah is and listen while Joel explains about the sleepover, but you are really admiring the way he fills out that flannel shirt. It’s cut perfectly and makes his broad frame look even broader. You know the man is strong because you’ve seen the tools and materials he has to carry. “So why a cowboy and not a sexy construction worker?” You ask, grinning as the burn of the alcohol starts to fade and the heat runs through your veins.

“That seemed too obvious. Isn’t halloween about pretending to be something you’re not? Tonight, I’m not a single father construction worker. Tonight, I’m a cowboy looking for a hero.” He smirks as he flexes his fingers around the red solo cup.

It takes you a second to realize he’s referring to your wonder woman costume and you grin. “Not all heroes wear capes, Miller.” You remind him playfully and toss back the rest of your drink so you can pour both of you another. “I think you also underestimate how sexy single father construction workers are.” You huff. “But I like the idea of taking a cowboy for a ride.”

Joel can’t believe how smooth he is being when usually he’s fumbling over his words with you. Maybe the costume has helped him regain some confidence after years of focusing on Sarah and not his love life. “Save a horse, ride a construction worker.” He winks and you giggle, making his heart clench. His eyes drag down your body when you turn and bend over to grab another bottle of tequila from under the drinks table and his cock twitches in his jeans.

You open the new bottle and pour you both a large drink. You don’t want to hang out by the booze all night, although it’s been pretty quiet right now. Soon enough there will be people charging out here to refill their own cups. “So are you ready to let your hair down?” You ask.

Joel snorts, “I don’t think I’ve ever done that. Well, not since Sarah was born.” He confesses, glancing around at the sofa and he jerks his chin, “you wanna sit down?” He asks, his back starting to ache from the long work day and he’s anxious to get closer to you.

“Sure.” You point to the back yard. “Want to sit out there, or go upstairs?” You ask. “We can’t sit down in the living room with all those bodies in there.” It’s a subtle way to get him upstairs if you think that this could actually go somewhere, which it is looking like it might.

“Let’s go upstairs. I’m too fucking old for this music.” He confesses with a chuckle and you nod, taking his hand to escort him upstairs. You’ve been to Tommy’s house a few times with Lindsey to get ready for nights out. Joel hopes his hand isn’t sweaty in yours and he lets you guide him away from the crowd to the quiet guest room. The bass from the music thumps below his feet as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

“You know you are a good dad, right?” You ask, wondering if he knows just how sexy him being a very involved dad is to you. “You care about Sarah, you listen to her.” You smirk. “Even if you don’t always know what you are doing.”

He snorts, looking down at the drink in his hand, “I definitely don’t always know what I’m doing. I could handle Barbie dolls and hair bobbles but periods? Boys? It’s a little out of my league.” He admits, turning to look at you as you sit down beside him. You’re so beautiful, so understanding. You deserve way better than someone like him yet here you are. “Thanks for saying that though. She likes you. Loves your style and watching those stupid MTV shows with you.”

“She’s a good kid. Because of you.” You smile softly. “And you didn’t even use her to get laid.” You tease. “Do you know that women love a good dad? Our panties drop quick for a man who loves his children.”

Joel raises his eyebrows, “really?” He asks and you nod, giggling in a way that makes his cock twitch, already half hard in his jeans. You smile and he can’t help but lean in closer to you. “You gonna drop your panties for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice dropping lower for you.

“Fuck, that sounded so hot.” You whimper, biting your lip as your eyes slide down to his. You want to kiss him, but you aren’t brave enough yet. “I can’t.” You admit. “I’m not wearing any tonight.” You take his cup and yours and set it down on the nightstand as you talk.

“Shit.” Joel hisses, his eyes widening slightly and he can’t stop himself even if he tried. He surges forward to press his lips to yours. His hat pushed back on his head as he cups your cheek and he pulls back after a second when you don’t respond and he frowns, wondering if he misread this.

You are frozen. Shocked that Joel, your sexy neighbor, is kissing you. When he pulls back, you see him frown, reaching out and cupping his face so you can lean in to kiss him yourself.

He quickly recovers and melts into the kiss, his hand cupping your neck to pull you closer and he gains confidence, sliding his tongue along your lower lip, pushing into your mouth when you grant him access.

Your breath catches and you groan into his mouth. Still in disbelief that Joel is kissing you. Hes a good kisser. His tongue slides along your, tangles with it and encourages you to kiss him back. Your stomach twists in knots and you lean into the kiss more, malting into him.

He loves the way you kiss him back just as eagerly and he slides his hand along your thigh, groaning at the feel of your skin under his palm. You’re so soft and he loves it. He’s imagined it more times than he’d care to admit.

You hadn’t worn any tights with your outfit. Not wanting to feel trapped or have another layer to take off another layer when you’ve been drinking. His hands on your skin feels amazing and you shift, moving to straddle him and you giggle into his mouth.

He groans when you straddle him, his hands immediately finding your ass to squeeze the flesh. So many times he’s imagined your ass when you’ve been outside in your shorts or leggings and now he gets to touch you. “Fuck.” He pants into your mouth, his cock hardening underneath you.

“We will get to that.” You promise, pulling away to press your lips to his jaw. Always wanting to kiss his neck for forever. It’s so kissable. “Imagined it so many times.”

Joel groans, tilting his head, and he slides his hand up to squeeze your breast. “Me too. So many damn times. Imagined you under me, over me. Being inside you. Jerked off enough damn times.” He reveals as you grind down onto him.

You moan softly, imagining him with his cock in his hand, panting your name. “I want to see that sometime.” You admit breathlessly. “Watch you jerk off.”

"Fuck. One day." He promises, grabbing your ass to lift you so he can spin and lay you down on the bed. "Look goddamn sexy in your costume." He groans, caressing your calf. "Tell me what you want, baby." He demands, reaching for the zipper of your boot.

“Want to ride you.” You decide. “Keep your cowboy hat and boots on.” You smirk and wink. “Want to see if you live up to the expectations I’ve built up seeing you wear that costume.”

He smirks, “I hope I can. It’s been a while.” He confesses as he reaches up to start unbuttoning his shirt, exposing his chest to your hungry gaze.

You reach up and caress his chest. “That doesn’t matter.” You promise. “I just want to feel you inside me.” He peels your boots off and reaches for your bottom. “I’m going to strip you down.” He promises and you nod. “Do it.”

He peels the costume from your body, his cock aching in his jeans at each inch that’s exposed to his hungry gaze, and he has to reach down to undo the buckle, opening his pants to allow himself some relief from the hard press of the zipper. “Shit. You’re gorgeous.” He murmurs, caressing your stomach until he’s reaching for the hem of the top, dragging it from your body to expose your tits. “Goddamn beautiful.” He murmurs when he tosses the top aside and dives down to take your nipple into his mouth as he kneels on the bed.

Your cry is loud but you know that no one in the party can hear you. The music is still thumping and you can hear the chattering. Not that you care, all you care about is him. His mouth feels so good on your nipple it hurts, making you whine when he flicks his tongue over it after biting down. “Joel.” You pant, tangling your fingers into his hair.

He loves hearing your moan and he bites down on the bud, lapping at it with his tongue, before he switches to the other one. His thumb and forefinger pinching your hardened nipple that’s slick with his spit.

You’ve never had someone spend so much time on your tits. Not without being inside you. You enjoy the attention, every pull of his mouth and pinch of your nipple makes your cunt throb around nothing and you are positively dripping.

His free hand slides up your inner thigh, caressing the skin there and he slides his touch higher so he can slide his fingers through your folds. “Fuck. You’re so wet.” He murmurs against your breast.

“So turned on.” You confess. You moan his name again when he continues to slowly stroke through your folds, fingers brushing against your clit. “Fuck baby.”

He groans, “me too. So fucking hard right now.” He confesses as he presses his fingers against your clit, wanting to hear you moan for him again.

You groan, reaching down and cupping him through his jeans. “Fuck.” You gasp, knowing that he will stretch you out when you feel how thick he is. “So hard.”

“Shit.” He hisses when you squeeze him and he slides his hand lower so he can push two thick digits into your weeping cunt, wanting to hear you gasp again. “Take me out.” He pleads, kissing your jaw, “need to feel your hand around him.”

You fumble with his zipper blindly, eager to feel the heft in your hand, to feel how soft and hard he is. Joel pulls his hips back to give you more room and you both groan in unison when he comes free from his underwear and lands into your palm.

He groans when you finally grip him in your soft palm, loving the way you squeeze him, and he’s so hard. He’s aching for you and his fingers work in and out of you, desperate to hear you cry out his name.

Your eyes slide closed, twisting your wrist to pump his cock as much as you can while his fingers destroy you. They are just as thick and wonderful as you imagined. Rough, his hands are calloused and imperfect from the manual labor of his job, scrubbing perfectly inside your walls to make you choke out his name every time he curls them deep.

Your choked version of his name has him groaning yours as you try to pump his cock in your soft hand. He twists his wrist, pressing his thumb to your clit to hear the sweet cry of your orgasm. He desperately wants it. His lips find yours again and he slides his tongue into your mouth, wanting to devour you.

Your hips roll up, eager to have him push his fingers deep every time he pulls them back. You feel that lovely tension curling in your stomach and you want more, crave it. He is just as overwhelming as you had imagined. Completely taking control and showing a confidence that is undeniably sexy.

Your walls flutter and clamp down on his fingers, making him grin against your chin, and he desperately wants you to fall apart for him. “Cum for me, baby.” He murmurs, nipping your jaw as he curls his fingers and presses his thumb against your clit.

It takes a few more pumps of his fingers before you are flying. Your walls lock down around his fingers and soak him with a wave of hot liquid juice that just continues to come in wave after wave while he continues to curl his fingers deep. Crying out his name loudly, nearly a sob and you shake under him.

“Holy fuck.” He groans when you grip his fingers in your walls and he loves how hot and wet you get. He can’t wait to feel that around his cock. “That’s it, baby. Such a good girl for me.” He murmurs, kissing along your neck as he works you through it.

You whimper, knowing that he could call you a good girl for the rest of your life and it would still make your stomach curl in pleasure. Your legs feel like jello when he finally pulls his fingers free and kisses your lips. “Fuck, Miller.” You pant. “Get on your back.”

He grunts as he shifts to lay against the pillows, pupils blown wide as he watches you while you shift to your wobbly knees. "So fucking gorgeous." He murmurs, his gaze dropping to your tits and he can't help reaching down to squeeze his hard cock.

You bite your lip when your thighs are straddling him, immediately moving and grinding down on his cock as soon as he moves his hand. Grinning when he moans your name and swivel your hips again. “Put your hat back on, cowboy.” You tease, leaning down and kissing him passionately.

He fumbles blindly to grab his hat from the nightstand and he puts it on while his tongue tangles with yours while you grind down onto him. “Shit. Co-condom?” He rasps, knowing it’s been forever and a day since he’s had sex but he wants you to be comfortable.

“Fuck.” You don’t have one, but you think you will cry if you have to stop right now. “I don’t- I’m clean.” You mumble against his lips, pulling back to look into his eyes. “I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean and I - I trust you.” He promises, knowing he shouldn’t take the chance after Katie left him high and dry but he’s aching and he knows you wouldn’t lie to him. “Take what you want, baby.” He demands, his hands finding your ass to squeeze before he playfully slaps your cheeks, “ride a cowboy.”

You moan, reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock as you lift up to move him into position. “Gonna ride you ‘til you pass out.” You tease, winking at him right before you start to impale yourself on his length with a loud moan.

When you start to sink down onto his cock, he hisses and his fingers dig into your ass, exhaling through his nose to control himself as he watches your facial expressions while he stretches you out. “Feel good?” He smirks, voice heavy with lust as he slides one hand up to squeeze your breast.

“Yes, fuck.” Your eyes close and you clench down around him. “You’re so much thicker than my ex.” You admit breathlessly, not even thinking that he might not want to be reminded that you had just broken up with someone.

He chuckles, pinching your nipple. "Good, gonna make sure you don't remember his fucking name after tonight." He promises and kisses along your jaw, "want you to scream my name only."

“What ex?” You joke, groaning when he nibbles on your ear. “Fuck, Joel.” You sit up, bracing your hands on his chest and look down on him. He looks sexy under you. “You have a great cock.” You praise, starting to bounce on it. “I’m going cum all over it.”

Your words make him twitch inside you and he slaps your tit, wanting you to squeal. You start to rock on top of him and the sight is gorgeous but he reaches for the hat on his head. He takes it off and places it on your head. “Sexy as fuck.” He murmurs, watching you as your tits move.

You giggle as you ride him, leaning over to press against his chest and bounce harder. He feels incredible inside you, his cock punching deep enough to feel like he’s in your throat and you start to rock harder on him. “Fuck, fuck Joel!”

“That’s it, baby. Shit. Take what you want. God, you look so gorgeous ridin’ my cock.” He coos as his dark eyes trail down to watch where his cock disappears inside of you.

He doesn’t have the exaggerated drawl of a cowboy, but that gravely, raspy pitch to his voice makes your cunt clench around him as he praises you. Loving how he seems to be obsessed with you moving on top of him. Those hands caress you from your tits to your thighs.

Your moans make him twitch inside you and he digs his heels into the mattress, unable to stop himself from thrusting up into you with a groan. “You gonna cum for me, baby?” He asks, his hands sliding up to pinch your nipples and twist them slightly.

“Yessssss.” You hiss, clenching down around him and circling your hips. “Your fucking cock is so deep inside me.” You moan. “You’re in my throat. How the fuck did no one want to ride this cock every night?”

Joel doesn’t mention his ex at this moment but he’s been hesitant to get involved with anyone since she left him with a baby and walked out the door. It’s been hard and he’s finally taking time for himself. He’s going to let you take what you want from him. “Wanna see you cum again.” He rasps, groaning when you clench around him, getting closer.

“I will.” You moan, bouncing on his cock faster and gasping out when he pushes against a perfect spot deep inside you. “God I want to cum all over you.”

"Do it." He pleads, his jaw clenched as he tries to focus on not cumming before you. It's been too long since all he had was his hand. He groans and slides his hand between you, finding your clit to rub, needing you to fall apart for him.

That little nudge of his fingers is all you need. Crying out his name so loud it’s almost a scream you shake apart on top of him, clenching down on his cock and creaming all over it as your hips stutter and you collapse against his chest to press your lips to his breathlessly.

He pulls his hand from between you, his arms wrapping around you and he is desperate to cum. He thrusts up into you, hissing at the way you clench around him. So tight he can barely thrust up into you, and he groans as he pushes deep and finally lets go. He paints your walls with his hot cum, a pant of your name escapes his lips as the breath is knocked from him.

You pant as he relaxes underneath you. Both of you are trying to catch your breath. “Wow.” His cowboy hat is pushed back, falling off your back and you start to giggle in pleasure. Amazed at how good that was. “Good ride, cowboy.”

He chuckles, heart pounding in his chest as he caresses your back, “fuck, my fantasies didn’t do you justice. You are incredible.” He murmurs, kissing your shoulder and up your neck.

You hum in agreement. He cock is softening inside you but you don’t even have the strength to move off of him. “Much better than getting drunk downstairs.”

Joel smiles, “absolutely. I, uh, wouldn’t mind doing it again. And again.” He confesses with a softness to his voice as he caresses you. “I’ve wanted you for a while. Do you, maybe, uh, wanna go out sometime?” He asks, wanting you to know this isn’t just a quick fuck at a party.

“Of course I do.” You smirk, pulling back and giving him a small wink. “How else will I be able to ride this construction cowboy anytime I want?” You joke, happy that Lindsey had convinced you to come to this party tonight. This was much better than eating too much candy on your sofa all alone. “Although next time, I want to see that fucking tool belt on your hips. Do you know how sexy that is?”

Joel actually blushes and he shakes his head, "I didn't know. Tool belt...I can make that happen." He promises and leans in to kiss you again. You groan after you pull back, shifting off of him and he reaches down to tuck his soft cock away. "I know I come as a package deal but Sarah loves you. She thinks you are cool as shit. She will be part of the deal if we - you know?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know that.” You promise him. “Never would have thought any different. Sarah is your world. I respect that. She is the first priority in your life, like she should be. I would just like to spend some time with you, and her. I want to see where this could go.” You smile. “It’s not like we live far apart.” You remind him, knowing that it would be a good thing to be so close, unless things don’t work out.

Joel nods, “yeah. Yeah. I just - not everyone wants a single dad.” He admits and you reach out to caress his cheek, “a hot single dad. One I want to fuck.” You giggle and Joel blushes again, “I can definitely arrange that. You want another drink? Some snacks?” He offers, knowing he won’t want to leave the guest room for quite some time. You nod and he shifts off the bed, adjusting his jeans and he puts his shirt back on. He grabs his hat and places it on his head, a wink towards you as he opens the door, “I’ll be right back.” He promises and steps out of the guest room. Making his way downstairs barefoot, he passes couples and friends until he sees Tommy who asks where you are. “She’s upstairs.” Joel confesses, biting his lip, and Tommy smacks him on the shoulder.

“Fucking finally, man. Good for you. You two make a cute couple. Don’t fuck it up.” Tommy raises his eyebrows and Joel nods, “only thing that’s gonna fuck this up is a goddamn zombie apocalypse.” He jokes and Tommy snorts, “you deserve to be happy, man.” Joel thanks him, grabbing the food and drinks to make his way back upstairs. He’s excited for the future. A future with you.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller tlou #halloween 2024

427 notes · View notes

yandereend · 7 months ago

Text

Yandere nerd x gn reader x yandere pretty boy

TW : faked death, yandere stuff, i dunno bad things, reader is kinda delulu

Special thanks to -👠anon

Your dead.

He was devastated, you were his life, his saving grace, his entire existence.

It all started when you meet Jake in class. He was the kind of nerd everyone picked on. Tall but scrawny, his clothes were past down from his brothers, his hair overgrown and his acne scars didn’t make him any more appealing.

He felt like he had nothing in life. His family didn’t care for him, his parents even told him straight up at some point that he was a mistake. His grades were bad, i know shocker. Sadly he only appeared like a nerd. The only thing he had going on for him were yandere stories.

He was the type of guy to listen to the asmr, to read the stories, to write with character AI and hope to find the love of his life.

He often pondered during class if one of his classmates could be the one, or the guy on the bus, maybe the girl at the supermarket, a teacher, there was that guy with-

Class this is yn, be nice.

Its you, it was always you.

This is the moment he always dreamed of, your his darling.

The moment he saw you he knew it was over. He followed you in the halls, watched you every moment in school, he even signed up in the same classes as you.

And the best part about it all was you. You treated him so well, you never made fun of him, even in class you helped him with math. That must mean you love him, thanks darling.

He never had any type of real friends but this must be it. And next you will be his partner. He planned everything out, ask you out, then go to a restaurant and then to the cinema.

But then there was Dorian.

The biggest asshole in school his complete opposite. Pretty, rich, popular, charismatic and you new boyfriend.

Jake never stopped watching. He wanted to make sure Dorian didn’t mistreat you. He always wanted you to be safe…

So here he was at you’re funeral.

He cried harder than everyone else, standing out beside your family and friends who tried to stay put together. He was a mess and he felt anger knowing you never knew how much he loved you.

But where is Dorian ?

He knew Dorian shared feelings similar to his, that much was clear after all his stalking. So why didn’t anyone see your dead body and the person you were closest to was nowhere to be seen?

Jake was maybe not the smartest but far from the fool Dorian took him for.

He will find you and bring you to your actual home.

💛Thanks for reading let me know if you want more <3 requests are open and i hope you have a great day 💛

#obsessive yandere #soft yandere #yandere community #yandere core #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere bf #yandere fiction #yandere stories #yandere nerd #yandere loser #yandere oc #yandere love #yandere post #yandere concept

884 notes · View notes

andvys · 10 months ago

Text

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter four ⭐︎ Every single thing I touch becomes sick with sadness

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mentions of loss, allusions to depression, fear of loss, hurt/comfort. reader calls her sister 'twinkie', mentions of abuse, mentions of sex

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: As Steve shows up on your doorsteps with an apology, you let him see more of just the you he already knows

Word count: 7.6k+

Author's note: shoutout to my co-writer (shut up, you wrote the dialogues and ideas with me, don't say anything) @hellfire--cult

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Breathe in. Breathe out.

His heart was pounding, his body was shaking, his eyes wide, blinking rapidly as he stared at the same exact spot. The dried blood on his hands was starting to make him feel sick. It was Eddie’s blood. He hadn’t cleaned it off yet, he was still in shock, still in pain after what they had all gone through.

Eddie made it, he was going to be okay, his injuries were bad and he was losing blood, a lot of blood, but he would be okay. And yet, Steve had felt anything but it.

He almost lost a friend, he almost lost Max, he almost lost… you.

He was sitting down beside you, though he couldn’t bring himself to look up and face you. You looked so… dead. Your skin lost its color, and the bandage around your head was new, yet there was a blood stain already. The machines were beeping beside you, it was the only sound in the room.

And then the door opened, only then did he lift his head to look up, expecting it to be your parents or maybe your sister but it was only Nancy. A cup of coffee from the machine outside in her hand, a sad look still resting on her features.

“Hey,” she whispered as she walked towards him, handing him the cup, “here, I didn’t know what you liked so I just got you a regular coffee.”

They’d been together for over a year and she couldn’t even remember what he liked. Should he even be surprised? No. A small thing like this still managed to hurt him.

“Thanks, Nance,” he mumbled as he tried to give her a smile. He reached for the cup, ignoring the way it felt when his fingers brushed hers, how his heart had fluttered despite her rejection only a few hours back.

She cleared her throat and looked away, sitting down at the end of the bed, she looked at you.

He took a sip of the hot coffee as he leaned back in the chair, he avoided looking at you still, instead he kept his focus on her, the way he always did. There was disbelief, anger and sadness flashing in her eyes as she stared at you.

“I can’t believe that Jason did that to her,” she whispered, “I knew I saw something in his eyes, I just didn’t think that he was this violent.”

Steve nodded.

He too was still in disbelief.

You survived the night in the upside down, you fought off bats, didn’t even bat an eye when one of them got you good, but Jason, you almost didn’t survive him. And Steve felt so much rage as he sat there and thought of the guy that almost murdered you.

“Yeah, me neither.”

There are monsters in different dimensions, in dark worlds, ones that do not know of a different way of living, they exist to kill because it is in their nature. But sometimes there are worse monsters, ones that hide behind kind eyes, ones that are raised into a world that should be more humane but because of them, it never will be. This world will always be just as dark as all the other ones that exist in secret. Jason was one of the monsters that got to you.

This world is a hell just like the ones he and his friends had been dragged into but there’s still kindness left, peace and order. Though, Steve couldn’t help but wonder what this world would have turned into if Vecna had won.

He would have brought endless war and chaos on this planet and people would have followed, they would have turned against each other so quickly. Everything would have crumbled into pieces.

Shivers ran down his spine as he thought of what could’ve happened had they not stopped him. You were a part of it all, you helped in stopping him, had you not been at the Creel house, things could’ve gone sideways so easily.

“Hey,” Steve whispered, clearing his throat. “Thank you… You know, for jumping into the water and saving my ass back there.”

Nancy furrowed her brows, a soft laugh fell from her lips, she looked away from you and turned to face him, shaking her head a little.

“Everyone did.. And, she did first. She jumped first on the boat and she jumped first into the water, then I followed, then Robin and then Eddie.”

His eyes widened, flashed with confusion as he tilted his head at her.

“Huh? Who jumped first?”

Nancy’s blue eyes were filled with confusion, her bangs fell in front of her eyes as she turned back to you, saying your name.

You were the first to jump.

You were the one to go after him first.

You wanted to save him.

How could he throw such horrible words at you after what you had done for him? After risking your life to save him?

He wouldn’t even be able to begin to describe the guilt that kept him up all night. He wanted nothing more than to drive over to your place and apologize, even if he would have to drop to his knees, he would.

But Max had told him that it was better to wait, to give you the time that you need, so that’s what he did. But he was going crazy, the guilt and the regret were eating at him, making him feel worse and worse with each passing second.

Going to work that day had been torture as well, he was nervous and restless, he kept bouncing his knee and tapping his pen against the unmarked crossword in front of him. His mind was forcing him to think of you, of the look in your eyes, of the tears and the hurt. He felt so awful, he felt like King Steve again and he is someone he despises, just the way he despises himself, right this second.

Robin told him to leave before he could even finish his shift, knowing that all he wanted was to set things straight, to make things right with you.

And here he is now, standing on your porch with a racing heart and sweaty palms.

He doesn’t know how you will react to seeing him here, but knowing you, he is certain that you will slam the door in his face – he’d deserve it.

He rang the doorbell once before, but you didn’t open it. He wonders if you saw his car in your driveway already. He rings it again, hoping for you to open, hoping for you to give him a chance so he can… try, try to make it up to you.

He tugs at his hair, feeling more and more stressed the longer it takes you to open. As he stands there, staring at the wooden door, he realizes that it’s only the second time that he stands here, on your porch, on the doorsteps of a big house, just as big as the one he lives in, if not bigger. The inside of your home is just as much of a mystery to him as you are.

Steve knows nothing about you, absolutely nothing and he still opened his mouth and threw words at you that you didn’t deserve – even when you pushed him, even when you were being mean to him, you had never sunk so low just to hurt him, not once.

After he got all this anger off his chest, you were no longer the girl he saw before, you were someone else, someone vulnerable, someone heartbroken and that hurt even more to think about.

He gets pulled out of his thoughts when you finally open the door. He snaps his head up and his eyes meet yours for the first time that day.

He had seen you in a bad state before, after your fight with Jason Carver, after the surgery that saved your life, you looked bad. Your skin was marked with bruises and scars, you had that traumatized look in your eyes that no one dared to even mention. You barely ate or talked for the first few days, whether it was because of the surgery or the trauma that Carver had left you with, you were in a bad, bad state.

But he had never seen you like this before.

Not even the sadness from last night was this strong as the one in your eyes now. They are glassy, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in them. Your lips are puffy just like your eyes, from all the crying. Your hair is messy, a big hoodie that doesn’t even seem to belong to you hanging loosely on your form.

Another pang of guilt hits him at the sight of you.

You stare at each other for a long moment before you try to slam the door shut again, but he jumps forward, pressing his palm against it, “Blondie, please! I just want to talk!”

He hears your sniffle, like you’re trying not to cry again. You stop pushing against the door but you don’t pull away either, you don’t let him see you.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he hears you say.

“I-I just want to apologize, I was an asshole to you and you didn’t deserve it. I messed up.. fuck..” He squeezes his eyes shut, feeling desperate to fix this between you two, “I’m sorry, I’m really fucking sorry, Blondie.”

“Y-You’re forgiven, now please leave..”

The weakness in your voice makes him feel like the worst person alive, knowing that he is the cause of your suffering, right now.

How did you feel last night?

“No,” he begs, shaking his head as though you could see him, “please just let me in, I-I want to talk to you, I want to fix it, please let me fix it.”

You are silent on the other side of the door, you don’t move, you don’t speak. You hesitate. And it feels like forever that he stands here with a pounding heart, willing you to open the door and let him see you, talk to you.

Without a word, you open the door and you step aside, crossing your arms over your chest.

He swallows the lump in his throat, blinking as he takes in the sight of you, once again.

You stare at him with both impatience and annoyance now, wanting to get this over with quickly, while he wants time – time with you.

He had never felt such desperation before, especially now that he sees you.

“There’s nothing to fix, it’s okay, you told me what you–”

He says your name, and he says it so desperately that it shuts you up.

“I won’t leave until I can properly apologize to you.”

You blink, your upper lip twitches and you take a moment, staring at him for what feels like forever until you nod.

“Fine..”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He takes a deep breath before he steps inside the house he has never been in before, he closes the door behind him and he can’t help but look around, taking in the sight of the big hallway, the wide stairs are on the right side, pictures hang on the wall all the way up to the second floor, there is one that is slightly bigger than the others, and even from afar, he recognizes you – you are no older than twelve in that picture, you wore a wide smile on your face, pigtails that were tied with pink bows at the end, you were wearing a dress and you looked happy in a way he had never seen before. Your big sister was next to you, holding your hand as your parents stood behind you both, the smiles were genuine, even on their faces.

Only as he stares at the picture, does he realize that he has never actually seen your parents before.

“Are your parents home?” He asks without looking at you, still questioning

You hesitate.

“No… I uh, do you want something to drink?” You ask awkwardly, not knowing what else to say or do.

Steve is too busy staring at the picture, trying to remember your parents, wondering why they didn’t come to visit you at the hospital, only your sister came to see you.

When he looks down at you, away from the picture of the girl that once looked so happy, he now sees a broken one, for the first time, he sees past those glares and cold looks.

He runs his fingers through his hair.

“I-I’m sorry… I’m really sorry about all the awful shit I said to you last night, I was angry a-and I let it out on you and you did not deserve this, you really didn’t deserve any of the words I threw at you.”

You blink, and you press your lips together just like you did before, just like you did last night.

“It’s okay–”

“No, I said things that I had no clue about and I never wanna do that again. I just, I want to understand you.. I want to get to know you because.. fuck, I’m realizing how much I’m hurting you.”

Your eyes soften and you genuinely look surprised at his words, eyeing him as you stay silent.

You don’t blame him, he’s not at fault, not entirely. He knows nothing about you or your life, so how could he know that those words would cause so much damage?

You carry guilt, just like he does.

You both kept throwing knives at each other, hitting one target after the other but you were both blindfolded to the pain you were causing to each other.

You shift, pulling at the sleeves of the sweater you are wearing, you close your eyes for one second, taking a deep breath, before you open them again and look up at Steve.

“What do you want to know?” You ask, surprising him with your words.

He expected you to be more stubborn than this, but you seem willing to let him get to know you, the real you.

“Anything you want to give me really.. so… I just want to stop hurting you without me realizing it… I don’t… I need to stop hurting you, Blondie.”

You look at him, really look at him, and you notice that he looks just as bad as you do. His hair is messy – a very unusual sight for him. He has dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept all night and his eyes are filled with guilt.

With a sigh, you tilt your head into the direction of the living room, motioning him to follow. You turn on the lamp on the dresser, making the room appear lighter, it’s gloomy outside and the rain has been falling all morning, it only just stopped.

“Sit,” you mumble, pointing to the couch, “wait here.”

He nods at you and sits down, he watches you leave the room again and listens to your footsteps as you make your way upstairs. He looks around, there are fewer pictures around here, though still enough for him to get curious about your parents again. There’s a bouquet of fresh flowers on the small table in front of him – Daisies. A throw blanket lays on the other end of the couch, an open book next to it, were you reading when he got here?

It doesn’t take you long to come back into the room.

Steve’s brows furrow a little when he sees the shoebox in your hand, you place it in front of him and take a deep breath as you look into his eyes, pointing to the box.

“Here’s everything you need to know about me.”

His lips part at your words.

“You can look, I’ll tell you anything you want to know and then we can… move past all of this and go back to the way things were before yesterday.”

He blinks, noticing how your shoulders slumped a little, you don’t want to go back to the way things were, and neither does he. He enjoys the bickering but not when it means that he is hurting you.

You break eye contact, and turn around, “I’m gonna get us something to drink, feel free to look..”

And with that, you leave again and Steve, he stares at the box for a while, feeling like he is about to intrude, despite you telling him to open it, to look inside, he still feels like he is intruding. But his curiosity gets the best of him, he removes the lid carefully and puts it down on the table.

Polaroid Pictures.

So many of them. The box is filled, all the way up to the top with pictures of friends and family. The first one that catches his eye is the one of you and Max. He reaches for it, bringing it closer. You are both smiling into the camera, Max is wearing her red sunglasses and you are wearing your heart shaped ones, an ice cream cone in her hand and a can of diet pepsi in yours – he can’t help but smile as he stares at it, you looked so happy.

The date was written under the picture, with a pink sharpie: May 7th 1985.

He places the picture down, reaching for the next one.

This one doesn’t have you on it, only your sister, with a black cat on her lap – Luna, the cat’s name was Luna, he overheard you talking about her to Max. And your sister, he doesn’t remember her actual name, only the nickname you called her when she came to see you at the hospital; Twinkie. He almost laughed at that, the first time he heard it.

The next one is one of you and your dad at the beach, he recognizes him from the picture in the hallway. Both of you were holding surfboards. Your eyes shone with happiness, a bright grin on your face, your dad’s arm was wrapped around your shoulder. In this picture, you looked even happier than in the one from last year. – This one was taken in the summer of 1981, you were only fourteen.

He flinches a little when you place a soda can in front of him, “here, I found some coke in the fridge, figured you’d prefer that.”

He raises his brows and then looks at the pepsi you’re holding in your hand.

“Oh, thanks,” he mumbles, trying to smile.

You nod at him as you sit down beside him, looking at the picture that he’s holding.

“We spent the summer in California, my parents had a summer house in Monterey.”

“Had?”

You nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper as sadness takes over your features, a sadness he hadn’t seen before. It’s not the kind that he had seen last night. It’s one that reminds him of grief, like the one on Max’s face when she mentions Billy.

Oh no.

“My sister sold it last year, I asked her not to but.. for some reason that house gave her more painful memories than this one,” you say as you gesture to the room you sit in, you lean forward, placing your drink on the table as you reach for a picture in the box, “that was.. that was two weeks before they uh.. got into an accident.”

You hand him a picture but he can’t look at it yet, too busy staring at you and at the way you try to hide the tears in your eyes.

Steve’s heart aches in his chest, the guilt eating at him like never before.

“I-I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he whispers as he slowly looks down at the picture, at your parents who both smiled into the camera. That one was also taken in the summer of 1981.

Steve started to feel a little sick as the seconds went by, at each picture that he looked at.

“Twinkie and I took the flight back with our grandparents, we wanted to spend one more week with them in Indianapolis before going back to Hawkins, we didn’t know that this would be the last time we’d ever see them.”

His heart no longer aches at your words, it breaks for you. He didn’t know this, he never knew anything about you. You lost your parents when you were so young, right before your first year in high school.

Now he understands why you had always looked so.. lost.

Why you had been so rude and unapproachable. You pushed people away while you were grieving, you didn’t want anyone to see.

He doesn’t know what to say, no words will give you the comfort that you still clearly need.

“I-I never knew.”

You chuckle as you look at him, still blinking away those tears, “I didn’t want anyone to know, especially not when it just happened.”

“Why not?”

“I’d forever be the girl that lost her parents, and honestly, I’d rather have the whole school hate me than give me pitiful looks.”

“Of course,” he mumbles, shaking his head at you.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shrugs, running his fingers through his messy hair after he puts the picture down, “you’re just so… I don’t know, it’s just.. classic you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask, not with anger in your voice but with curiosity.

“Well, you’d rather have the whole world hate you than let them see you vulnerable.”

You shake your head at him and his eyes meet yours as he turns back. There is that look in your eyes, the one that reminds him that he doesn’t know anything about you.

“I let some see.”

Right. Some.

He nods and looks away.

He’s surely not one of those that you let see.

When he reaches for the next picture, he freezes, staring at the two little girls with wide eyes. It’s not hard to figure out who the one next to you is. Strawberry blonde hair, the two front teeth way too big for the small face, she was wearing a cheerleader costume – not knowing that she would’ve become cheer captain years later. Chrissy Cunningham.

The girl next to you was Chrissy, you were hugging each other from the side, giggling.

He looks at you, you were wearing a fairy costume, green and pink colors on the dress, and your smile was big. You looked happy.

He shakes his head a little, not understanding what he sees in front of him.

He had never seen you and Chrissy around each other, not even once. In fact, he rarely ever saw you around anyone for that matter. Sometimes he saw you talking to Jonathan, something that gave him more of a reason to dislike you back then, he’d throw the word ‘freaks’ at the two of you whenever he passed by you. The memories of that fill him with guilt and regret, he always wishes that he could turn back time and change things, change the way he acted.

But he never ever saw you even talking to Chrissy.

He slowly turns to face you, holding up the polaroid, “y-you and Chrissy knew each other?”

You only glance at the picture before you look down, “yeah, we were childhood best friends, we grew apart but… we still kept in touch. She’d stay over sometimes.” you explain, not meeting his eyes.

You lost your parents. You lost a friend.

His words from last night echo in his mind and the guilt crashes over him, harder than before.

No words appear before him, what can he say that will make you feel better in the slightest? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

But the monsters have gotten to her without her knowing about them.

That’s what Max had told him. Now he understands. Even more so, when a different picture catches his eye, one that shocks him even more than the previous one.

Only this time, he doesn’t just freeze, he feels a shiver running down his spine and his chest feels weird, all of a sudden. Because the guy in the picture isn’t someone he ever expected you around with.

He takes it, between his thumb and his forefinger, bringing it closer with a shaky hand. He blinks, like he can’t believe what he is seeing, but it’s real, it’s so very real. No amount of blinking will transform the guy into someone else. It’s unmistakably Billy Hargrove in your collection of polaroids, a collection that reminds you of the people you loved. The box of memories that is frozen in time.

Billy is sitting on the hood of his car, a cigarette held between his fingers as he snickered at the camera. It was taken back in 1984.

You were friends with Billy Hargrove?

He can’t even utter a single word, just reaching for the next picture which is just another one of him.

Billy was lying on the grass, probably in your backyard, his eyes were barely open but he was smiling into the camera, with a thumbs up in the air. It’s clear that he was drunk when you took that picture.

He feels your eyes on him, he notices you shifting on the couch as you lean back, still looking at him. He doesn’t turn to face you, not yet. Too curious to find more pictures of Billy, he doesn’t expect the next ones to be more intimate than the ones before.

He stares at the one of you first, it looks as though you have cried, but you are smiling, and the only thing that covered your body was a blanket, while pushing the camera out of your face.

And for a moment, Steve can’t help but think how beautiful you look in this picture with your hair all messy, your exposed skin looking so soft and glowy beneath dim lights, and a smile so content.

But the picture of Billy makes him frown. He was sitting on your bed, shirtless and with a cigarette between his lips, his eyes were red but he was smiling just like you were.

It’s obvious what happened before these pictures were taken and he can’t shake the weird feeling in his gut, the longer he looks at them.

Were you and Billy dating?

Is that why you have been so miserable since last summer? Because he was just another name on the list of people you have lost?

As though you can read his mind, you lean closer to him, reaching for the first picture you ever took of him, the one where he sits on the hood of his car.

“I ran into Billy at Big Buy’s, well, behind the building. He was smoking a cigarette and he was crying. I hadn’t seen him before, it was the weekend before school started again. I approached him and he obviously tried to scare me off, but… fucker didn’t know who he was talking to,” you chuckle. “He was being rude, like really rude, calling me names and trying to get me to leave, I stepped on his foot and he yelped, literally yelped. I left after that but uh, after that, we just started pestering each other at school and then one day, he showed up here, with a bleeding nose and a busted lip, he didn’t know where else to go.”

Steve watches you, the way your eyes are filled with sadness as you look at the pictures in front of you.

“It took him a while but eventually, he opened up to me, about his dad and everything.”

He knows about Billy’s dad, about the abuse, the emotional and physical abuse. Max told him all about it.

“So uh, then that happened,” you murmur, awkwardly, not meeting his eyes as you point to the pictures of the two of you only covered by the sheets.

“Were you two dating?” He asks, and somehow he feels a knot in his stomach at that question.

You scrunch your face up at his words, almost in a way that makes him laugh. You shake your head at him.

“Fuck no. We weren’t even attracted to each other. I just, at that point we were close and I trusted him so uh.. I just wanted to do it with someone that I felt comfortable with and uh, the beer helped too, I guess,” you say with a small smile on your lips.

Steve turns away from you, biting the insides of his cheeks, the knot slowly undoing itself in his belly.

“We never mentioned it again after this, it wasn’t awkward or anything, we were just.. best friends.”

There is no bitterness in your voice, he notices. You had no feelings for Billy, and that for some reason makes his shoulders relax.

He looks back at you when he feels your eyes on him, your smile has fallen.

“He came to my house… you know.. after he beat you up and he was drugged by Max.”

He raises his eyebrows, pursing his lips.

“What?”

“I told him that it was wrong, what he did, that you did the right thing, that I told him time and time to lay off Max. Damn, I even slapped him across his head when he broke her skateboard.”

His eyes soften, and his lip twitches.

“I-I was doing the right thing?”

“You protected Lucas. When I found out how he was treating him I got so mad at him, we got into a fight and I didn’t talk to him for days. I just hated what he did to him and to Max,” you mumble, breaking eye contact when the look in his eyes gets a little too intense for you. You also didn’t like what Billy did to Steve, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Billy he was.. driven by his father’s words and actions. The abuse turned him into that. He was vulnerable with me, but– the anger was still inside of him… bright red.”

As Steve looks back at the pictures, he realizes that he had never seen Billy like this, happy, smiling. He almost looks like a different person. Regret floods through him, he can’t help but wish that he would’ve gotten to know this side of Billy, the one that you knew, maybe things would’ve gone differently if he did, maybe Max wouldn’t have lost her brother.

“I never saw Hargrove like this.”

“No one did,” you shrug, “only me, sometimes Max. I-I tried to change him and his dumb views but Billy was just.. stubborn and angry.” You shake your head, blinking away the tears that welled up in your eyes, you close them and tilt your head down. “A-And then he pushed me away when he.. when he was possessed.”

Steve notices the way your voice got so much more shaky than before, how you seem to be on the verge of tears.

“Max,” he whispers, now understanding why or who the reason was for your friendship.

“Yeah… Max. We received letters, well, notes from Billy,” you mumble.

He watches how you bring your hand up to your face, wiping away the tears with the sleeves before you reach for something in the box, a folded piece of paper that you hand to him.

“He told me to stay away in mine, all messy, but he said that he didn’t hate me, that he could never..”

Steve doesn’t open the note, your words are enough, he doesn’t want to intrude more than he already did, he understands this enough. Billy pushed you away to keep you safe, and he did it with cruel words to keep you away, because he knew that that would work with you.

Steve is at a loss for words.

“And Max, he called her his sister in hers. She didn’t read the note until a few weeks later though.”

Steve’s eyes widen, and it all clicks in his head.

Why Max had been suffering as much as she did in those months after Billy’s death, why she seemed more depressed than ever when the summer was over.

“Is that why you are so close with her? … For Billy?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, nodding. “She’s like a sister to me, I’d do anything for her.”

And you did. You did and you almost gave your life protecting her.

“And I almost lost her too.”

Just like everyone else you loved and cared about.

Steve’s words did more damage than he thought they did, and they echo in his mind, over and over again.

Don’t you ever ask yourself why you don’t have anyone? Why no one bothers to stick around because I’d be really surprised if someone did.

The nausea that fills him almost overwhelms him, it almost knocks the breath out of him. He swallows harshly, and he starts to put the polaroids back into the box, blinking as he looks at each and every one of them again.

His eyes linger on the one of you smiling, the one from the year before. When you found your happiness again when a new friend had stepped into your life.

Steve couldn’t stand Billy Hargrove, he really couldn’t stand him, but his death was cruel and even he didn’t deserve what happened to him and you didn’t deserve to lose another person you cared about.

You lost. You lost people, you lost family, you lost friends and you lost your spark, your happiness. And now he understands why you are the way that you are. Why you keep pushing everyone away, you’re scared to lose again, scared to get too close to someone only to watch them being taken away from you.

As he stares at your smile, he can’t help but frown at the picture in his hand because he will never get to see this. He will never see you like this with him and in this moment, he can’t help but envy those who will.

“You are right.” His voice sounds small, filled with regret, filled with sadness and hurt.

“Huh?”

“I don’t know what loss is. I– shit. I don’t know if I could have handled it like you did.”

You feel your eyes burning at his words and before you can even try to blink your tears away, one falls from your eye.

Steve’s eyes soften when he hears your sniffle, he watches the tear roll down your cheek. He moves without thinking, raising his hand up to your face, he catches the tear with his thumb.

You freeze and your lips part in surprise, his touch giving you butterflies despite what happened yesterday.

His touch feels so foreign on your skin, yet comforting and warm, like something that you have been craving and longing for since always. You slowly turn to face him and only then, does he realize what he did.

His cheeks flush red and his eyes fill with embarrassment, he clears his throat and pulls his hand away from your face, not knowing that this makes you feel empty again.

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper, apologizing to him, for the first time. “Knowing that they’re alive yet still deciding to leave you behind.. that’s not easy either.”

He appreciates your words and his lip twitches, he shrugs, trying to play it off – The pain he always endured by himself and never voiced out, and he won’t start doing it now. It’s done with.

“I have the kids and Robin.”

“Right,” you whisper as you push yourself up, unable to sit here with him any longer, you reach for the box, ignoring the confused look that he gives you, “they take care of you.”

He noticed the sarcastic tone at that last phrase, but he nodded either way.

“Okay uh, time to go, Lego head. I need a shower.”

This time, he can’t help but smile at the nickname.

“Okay, Blondie.”

You lead him back out into the hallway, avoiding the hazel eyes that fill your heart with nothing but sadness and longing.

You feel your heart pounding, your eyes still burning as you feel yourself nearing the edge of yet another breakdown this day.

“Hey,” Steve whispers, taking a hold of your arm he pulls you back so he can see your face again.

“Yeah?”

Your eyes show him so much and now he can’t help but wonder if these emotions have always been there and he was just too blind to see them or if you only showed them now.

“I’m really sorry about everything,” he whispers.

Your lips twitch, though not into a smile.

“Me too, Steve.”

He keeps holding your arm, ignoring the wish to hold you instead.

“Are we.. good?”

His question makes you laugh and you squint your eyes.

“When have we ever been good?”

He rolls his eyes, though he can’t help but smile. He brings his left hand up, running his fingers through his messy hair.

There is that look in his eyes, the one that shows you that he is thinking about something, deeply.

“Do I still call you Blondie…?” He asks as he realizes that he had always called you by a name that must have taken you back to a time where you had felt the saddest, the loneliest. You were fifteen when you had bleached your hair and tried out new styles, all the time. He never knew that it was something that you needed to do, to distract yourself from the grief. You had no friends, no one to talk to, no one to be with. You only had that – box dye, makeup and new clothes every week.

Oh.

You swallow the lump in your throat, digging your nails into your palm. He knows.

“I would be mad if you didn’t. It’s weird when you say my name, Harrington.”

He chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah yeah, Blondie, keep acting like you don’t like it.”

You smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes and he can see it.”

“I guess we’re still Lego head and Blondie then, huh?” He asks, snorting.

“Always.”

He licks his lips, nodding.

“Always,” he chuckles as he lets go of you and walks towards the door, he opens it, but he doesn’t step out, right away. He looks back at you, one more time, “you know, I didn’t mean a single thing that I said to you, last night. And I’ll do anything for you to believe me. B-But, I think that you’re amazing and the people that had the chance to get to know you… the real you were really fucking lucky.”

He leaves you with those words, closes the door and walks away from you.

And you stare at the front door for what feels like forever before you finally break into tears. You were pushing away your pain and your sadness but the fight from last night, his presence and his words have made it all so much worse again.

You bury your face in your hands as you sit down on the stairs, letting tears fall that you haven’t felt in ages but instead of relief, you feel frustration running through you. You didn’t miss this, you didn’t miss this for a single second.

There is a knock on the front door and it fills you with annoyance when you expect it to be Steve again.

Wiping your tears with anger, you rip open the door, expecting to see him again but instead it’s Max on your doorstep. Max and Eddie.

You blink, looking between them, back and forth.

Max’s blue eyes fill with worry as she looks into your glassy eyes.

Eddie smiles at you, despite matching the look in her eyes.

“Hey, you didn’t let me come in yesterday so I assumed that if I brought Red here you would let us in,” he says, still smiling cheekily. “We brought movies and got your favorite snacks,” he points to Max’s backpack.

You don’t know what comes over you, but the kind smile on his face, of the guy that has been trying desperately to be your friend, makes you want to continue crying. You don’t know how, but you keep your tears at bay.

You know that they can see that you were crying, but it brings you comfort to know that neither of them will push you to talk about anything.

“Hey guys,” you try to put on your best smile as you greet them, you step aside without another word.

Eddie’s smile widens, he bumps his shoulder into Max.

“Hey,” she smiles, still eying you worriedly, “are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, placing your hand on her shoulder, “I’m okay.”

She doesn’t look convinced but she doesn’t push you to talk, she doesn’t ask any more questions either. She just walks straight into the living room.

“She feels at home, huh?” Eddie chuckles.

“It’s basically her second home so yeah,” you laugh.

His brown eyes take you in, his lips twitch but his smile doesn’t fall. He looks like he wants to say something but he doesn’t speak up.

You both follow Max into the living room, expecting her to be unpacking the snacks but instead she stands there frozen in place as she stares at the box of polaroids.

Your eyes widen and in panic, you rush over to the coffee table, wanting to close the box.

“S-Shit, I’m sorry–”

“No!” She grabs your hand before you reach for the lid. “I-It’s okay, I’m okay. A-Are you though?” She asks as she looks away from the pictures of Billy.

Eddie looks between you two, furrowing his brows as he takes a step closer. He looks into the box and his eyes widen instantly.

“Holy shit, is that–”

“Eddie don’t,” Max warns him.

You shake your head, “no.. no, it’s okay, Max.”

Eddie doesn’t even look at Max or you, he is staring at the picture of her brother, in shock.

“I-I promise, it’s okay,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose as you feel your heart starting to pound again, “I just.. I need some fresh air, I’ll be right back.”

You leave the room, rushing out of the house. You sit down on the porch steps, taking a deep breath. The earthy smell that lingers after the rain comforts you a little.

You knew you wouldn’t get more than a minute to yourself, because only moments later, the door opens. You know that it’s Eddie, you hear the flick of his lighter, and seconds later, the smell of smoke fills the air, mixing with the smell of the after rain.

You hear his footsteps and then he sits down next to you. Without a word, he offers you the cigarette. You take it, placing it between your lips, you take a drag and blow out the smoke.

Eddie doesn’t talk, he just wants you to know that he is here because he wants to be, he wants to be your friend but you don’t want to lose him too.

“I lost a lot of people I cared about, Eddie.. Every single one of them, my parents, Chrissy, Billy.. I almost lost Max and you too,” You trail off, taking another drag before you hand him back the cigarette. “And I can’t lose any more people, Eds.”

He stares at you with his big sad eyes that you can’t bring yourself to look into for longer than two seconds.

“I feel like I’m fucking cursed or something. Everything that I touch immediately rots. That’s why I just.. I keep pushing you away because I already lost a best friend.. so just please.”

He sees the way you’re blinking, the way your hands are shaking just like your voice is. He knows what you’re asking of him and he only shakes his head in response, moving closer to you as he feels his own eyes burning.

You’re his friend, a friend that he doesn’t want to lose either.

“Nah.. It will take a whole swarm of demobats to rip me away from you. And even then, hey, I will still survive, already did once,” he tries to crack a joke but only makes you tear up even more.

You finally turn to face him, looking into the kind eyes of your friend before your eyes move down to his neck, to the bandaid that covers his scar.

“But–”

“No buts. You are not cursed. You are not responsible for anything that happened to those people. It’s okay to feel sad, it’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to love, Darling. Let yourself do it,” he says, smiling as he throws his cigarette on the pavement before he wraps his arms around you, bringing you closer, “and stop pushing me away, please.”

Your bottom lip trembles and the tears flow like a waterfall, you stop fighting it, you stop fighting him and you let him pull you into his arms, closing your eyes as you lay your head on his chest, letting yourself fall into the hug that you so desperately need.

“Let it out, sweets.”

The soothing tone in his voice makes you cry even harder, your tears seep through his shirt but he doesn’t mind, he rubs your back and holds you. Your heart is crying, your brain is banging, your breaths are cut short thanks to your sobs, but it’s something you needed. And even through all of that, you are feeling so relieved, so light at each sob that rips out of your throat.

And when you feel Max’s hand in yours, her head on your shoulder as Eddie still holds you, you know that everything will be okay, that you will be okay. You might not need anything else for now… these two people right here are making you feel fuller than you ever felt in the past year.

You won’t lose them.

You won’t have to live without them.

They will be more than just a short time.

♡

tagging friends and mutuals:

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @sherrylyn628 @livosssblog

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #stranger things angst

1K notes · View notes

zelcii · 4 months ago

Text

sense | james potter

"you're not selfish for wanting to be treated well," you remind yourself, your voice barely a whisper as you slip into the dimly lit library. the echoes of your parents' howler still ring in your ears as it did while it echoed off the walls of the great hall. its harsh words were seared into your mind. you can still see the mocking smirks of the slytherins, and hear the whispers from your own housemates—hufflepuff loyalty running thin.

you’ve been trying so hard, but your grades this year have been less than impressive, and nothing you do seems to make a difference to your parents. it was enough that you'd been housed in hufflepuff. you just always seemed to find a new way to disappoint someone.

you wander through the rows of books, blinking back the tears that have been threatening to fall since breakfast. you find a quiet corner, hidden behind a stack of dusty old tomes, and sink to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. the library is mostly empty this time of day, a perfect place to disappear for a while.

but not for long.

you hear him, harsh whispers exchanged with his friends, before you see him.

james potter's sat in front of you, a concerned frown replacing his usual grin. he leans back, crossing his arms as he watches you with those warm, green eyes. the two of you would talk often. either in passing or during classes. he'd gotten into the habit of pairing up with you for projects. whether compelled by pride or pity, you weren't entirely sure. you considered him a good friend. not so much a close one.

“fancy finding you here,” he says, trying for his usual light-hearted tone but failing. "don't even remember the last time I've seen you 'round a book."

you don't look up at him, your vision blurry with tears. "not really looking for company right now, potter." your voice is muffled as you speak.

james tilts his head, his frown deepening. "good thing it found you, then."

you sniffle, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "what do you want?"

“to talk, maybe?” he suggests, leaning forward with a playful smirk. “or at least distract your pretty little head from all that house shit with my dazzling wit and charm.”

you can’t help but let out a small, watery laugh. “you really think highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“someone has to,” he quips, but there’s no real arrogance in his voice, just a gentle teasing meant to pull you out of your funk. “besides, you’re one to talk. weren't you the one calling yourself dumbledor's reincarnate?” james laughed, his eyes teasing as they held your gaze. "he's not even dead, love."

love.

you roll your eyes, but his effort to make you smile isn’t lost on you. “was just joking."

"well then, it was a wonderful joke."

"flattery will get you no where, potter," you retort.

"charmed thing i like it right here with you, isn't it?" james' expression softens, his teasing fading into genuine concern. you blush. “i saw what happened this morning. i'm sorry about your parents… they’re tough.”

you nod, swallowing hard. “they're just… pureblood. you know? nothing will ever be enough.”

james sighs, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on your knee. the warmth of his touch somehow grounding. his silence is far more reassuring than any combination of words someone else could string together.

you look down at his hand, at the way his fingers curl gently against your knee. your voice is barely above a whisper, ashamed of all that's happened in a single morning. “they said I was selfish. for… for wanting more from them.”

“they’re wrong,” James says firmly, his voice steady and reassuring. “you’re not selfish for wanting to be seen and heard. for wanting to be loved for who you are, not for what they want you to be.”

“you sound like professor mcgonagall.” a tear slips down your cheek though you can't help but laugh. "thank you," it's soft and endearing when you say it.

james grins, a bit of his usual mischief returning to his eyes. “anytime. now, what do you say we blow off some steam? maybe a trip to the kitchens?"

james stands up, offering you his hand. you take it, letting him pull you to your feet. he doesn’t let go right away, his fingers lingering in yours as he looks down at you, his expression suddenly serious again.

“you know, the others'll make sense of it. eventually,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand.

"i know," you give him a small, grateful smile. “just as long as it makes some sense to you.”

#james potter fluff #marauders #harry potter #james potter #x reader #slytherin #gryffindor #hufflepuff #marauders x reader #james potter x reader

737 notes · View notes

love-bitesx · 2 years ago

Note

I loveeeedd the last story Tysm ❤️❤️❤️ Keep up the amazing work 🌈

I have another request

Hobie x fem spider reader

Reader has a weird stalker ex-bf, and the reader tries to keep it a secret from Hobie but he finds out and deals with the ex.

: ̗̀➛ STALKER. hobie brown x fem!reader

any criminal minds fans out there … i hope u see the parallels of my baby spencer also i'm so sorry, i didn't see until after i wrote this entire thing that you said 'fem spider reader' so it's a fem normal reader, so sorry! i hope it's still okay, tho!! thank u sm for ur support angel !! summary: hobie & y/n have been doing long distance for months, but she never told him exactly why. words: 2.8k (the words just kept coming, sorry its so long lmao) warnings: fem!reader, pronouns not really used but "my girl", "lady", etc. are, read at your own risk! weird stalker bf, creepy fella, hobie n y/n are long distance, very very soft hobie

“when can i call you next, darlin’?” hobie’s voice was laced with longing, bass distorted by static at the other end of the phone.

“if you’re quick, we can call tomorrow after 5,” you smiled, and if you were in an 80’s romcom, you’d be twisting the phone cord between your fingers.

“5pm it is, don’t be late,” you can hear his smirk, and a bolt of guilt strikes your chest.

“look, i need to ask something, and i think i already know the answer,” hobie speaks, and you bite your lip in anticipation, “the band and i are playing at a new venue tomorrow, it’s the biggest we’ve played, we’re all dead excited, and…”

a sigh.

“well, it won’t feel the same without you there, pretty.”

if the first bolt wasn’t enough, then the second one lived up to it, striking you into the dead center of your heart. it had been well over 6 months since you met hobie. well, “met”. you’d accidentally called the wrong number one day, meaning to contact a friend of a friend, but typing the last number wrong. picking up at the other end was a deep, almost mesmerising voice, telling you; “no bother, darlin’. it happens, just make sure not to lose this number, wanna hear more from ya.”

“hobie, you know i can’t,” your voice is brimming with remorse and you look to the ground.

“i know, shit with your parents, i get it," he tried hard to hide the disappointment, but his heart twanged with neglect and it creeped through into his words.

parents. strict, all-demanding 'parents'. that's what you told hobie when you first started dating, that the reason you aren't able to see him was because your mother was overbearing and extremely protective – it was a lie. a lie that was eating you up from the inside out. the truth was slightly more grim, however.

years ago, you got involved with a guy at work. a couple brief conversations turned into dates, and dates turned into anniversaries, anniversaries turned into toxic, violent arguments and after a long time of dating, you broke up with him. to say he took it badly, was a criminal understatement. threatening phone calls, showing up at your work, sending you gifts and menacing letters – his signature move was scaring off, and even once harming, any man or potential love interest that you interacted with. it was exhausting, and terrifying.

and hobie was different. he was sweet and kind, but rough around the edges, and his voice dripped in passion no matter the topic of conversation. his promises were never empty, and most importantly – he loved you. and you loved him. the last thing you wanted, was your ex to pop up and scare him off, so you kept it from him. limiting your relationship to phone calls at arranged times incase your ex was keeping tabs.

“i’m sorry, hobie,” is all you could muster, not even scratching the tip of the catastrophic iceberg that wedged the back of your throat.

“it’s okay, darlin’, don’t worry that pretty little head over it,” and just like every phone call, you melted into his words, “i love you, yeah? i’ll call you tomorrow at 5.”

“i’ll be waiting,” you smiled, cheeks flushed at his gentle affirmations, “i love you.”

with a ruckus of movement, and what sounded like a kiss, the call ended, and you stared at the screen silently for a moment. not much longer could you avoid it, and the malten bubble of dread spilled into your gut.

sending him a quick text:

‘good luck tomorrow, handsome. what’s the venue called again? you’ll do amazing x’

you turned off your phone, discarding it on the bed as you climbed into the hole of guilt you’d dug yourself.

“oi, you ready, blud?” hobie’s band mate yelled above the bustle and cheers from the crowd before them. large, bejewelled hands poised onto his guitar strings, he smirked.

“always.”

with a nod to the roadie, the lights went up, illuminating the stage and instruments, hobie's glowing with a harsh red tint. immediately, his sepia eyes digested the crowd. seeing the flushed, excitable faces staring back at him sent a shot of confidence to his bones, and they moved, strumming the guitar with such vigor that the stage floor shook beneath his feet. cheers erupted, and yet felt oddly empty. it was missing something, and he knew what it was immediately.

he'd truly give his all to have you there, front stage in his eyeline, screaming his songs like gospel. not that he'd ever seen you properly, only seeing teasing selfies you'd sent him over the months you'd been together. he didn't care, inherently, he'd fallen head over heels for your personality; a pretty face was only just a bonus.

however, he did yearn for your touch. to feel his hands in your hair, to kiss your cheek, your nose, your neck. he longed to have you with him, even just doing stupid little tasks, having you by his side through the domestic side of life.

his gall spurred him on, his passion surging through his fingertips, spilling out into the sound waves. the audience were lapping it up, screams and chants only barely audible under the booming power of their set. song, after song, after song his talented blood seeped out onto the strings, and his feet were almost numb from the vibration of the bass.

the final song arrived, and his chest was burning, vision blurry, heart pounding against his chest – and he loved it. it was their biggest crowd, their most excitable achievement so far, and his blood pumped with adrenaline as he finished off the set, falling to his knees as he strum his guitar with one final chord. lights falling, his chest was heaving and his eyes scanned the audience one final time – you weren’t there. he had to accept that.

“that was fuckin’ sick, blud!” his bassist yelled as they exited the stage, palm slapping hobie’s shoulder blade and elicited a wide, ecstatic grin.

“you smashed it, mate,” hobie shouted back over the booming stereo that took their place.

“nah, man, you stole the show,” his bassist shook his head, patting him again in appreciation, “good that your lady’s here to see it, too, she must be proud.”

“i wish, mate,” he sighed.

“did you not see her?” his ears perked up, and at his confused expression, his bandmate continued, “over at the back, by the bar, i didn’t know what she looked like, but she was asking after you. ‘er story adds up.”

"shit," he mutters, feet solid on the ground. his heart pounds, skeptical of your presence, but chest bursting with hope that it just might be you, "look, bro, i need to–"

"go! go, man, go see her," his bandmate pushes him in the direction of the bar, and he almost stumbles over his own feet to push the stage door open, met with the chaos of the crowded bar.

dark eyes scanning the aimless faces, he searched for anyone who could look like you; his stature brought him above everyone else, only by a little, but gave him an advantage to seek you out.

"sorry, i need to get past," he repeated, over and over to unassuming bodies, setting through the chaos to find his peace. pushing out at the back, a wave of light met him, shining through empty pint glasses and illuminating the bar.

there you were.

standing quietly, head nodding along to the blasting instrumentals, drink in hand; you were heart-stopping. and he was pretty sure his did. even if he’d never seen you face-to-face, he’d memorised the soft plump of your lips, alluring light in your eyes, even the way your hair fell against your skin from the photos he'd seen. there was no doubt it was you, and my god, you were beautiful. he couldn’t even stop his legs if he tried, as they carried him over to you.

"y/n?" his voice barely travelled through the sound waves, but it hit your ear like a familiar embrace.

turning to him, eyes wide and bright in the twinkling of the bar lights. you drunk him in, warm eyes swallowing every part of him. you'd seen pictures, again, but it could never compare to him. dark brown skin, soft to its complexion, hugged his bones in every perfect way; folding at the creases of his handsome face. he was tall, very tall, and the detail of the curves and indents of his muscles, altered by the shadows of the dim bar light, made your head fuzzy. god, he was beautiful – nothing that a digital screen could ever portray with justice.

"hobie," your voice was crisper than he was used to, and he would bottle it if he could, "hey, handsome, you got a–"

"come 'ere," he interrupted, essentially scooping you into his tense embrace, melting into your scent, the feel of you in his arms. his heart was pounding against his chest. you wrapped yourself around him, running your hands along his leather jacket, ghosting the skin below it.

"you interrupted my introduction," you pouted against his shoulder, "had a whole little joke planned and everything, you know."

"go on, hit me, love," he pulled back a tiny bit, his arms still glued around your waist, looking down through his lashes. you faltered under his intense gaze, giddy smile bursting onto your face and you buried your head in his chest.

"nuh uh, not anymore," you shook your head against him, "you ruined it."

his hand came up to touch your face whilst you spoke, following the edge of your hairline and tucking your hair around your shoulder. he was in awe, having you here, having you with him. tightening his embrace, he didn't want to let you go – ever.

"mhmm," his voice vibrated his chest, and you pulled away, "i'm sure it was hilarious, love."

"it really was," you chuckled, giddy in his presence.

the air grew thicker, your laughter dying out and left with just his strong gaze, his dark brown eyes following yours. you could barely comprehend him being here, in front of you, around you, and he was so much more than you had imagined. feeling his calloused hand caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch, inviting him into your world. cupping your face, hobie bought himself to you, leaning down until his pierced lips were ghosting your own. months he'd dreamed of this, imagined how it would feel to kiss his girl, to taste your lips and feel your love. he could feel your breath, and you were about to give in, until you pulled away.

"wait, i–" you swallowed thickly, pulling your touch from him.

"what's up, darlin'?" his eyes scanned your face for any sign of reason, "did i do somethin'?"

"no! no, you," you sighed, "you're perfect, it's not you."

he'd be lying through his teeth if he denied the pit of anxiety building deep in his stomach, bubbling up his throat.

"what is it?"

"i–" you stuttered again, and fought to get your words out of your brain and into the thick air of the bar, "i haven't been telling you the truth."

silence. just for a second. hobie's brain working over time.

"look, if you've got another fella, or somethin', just get it over with–"

"no! no, hobie, i'm yours, i promise," your words settled him for a second.

"my parents don't care about us, they aren't strict, in fact, they were happy when i told them about you," you begun, opening the dam.

"they know about me?" his voice was smaller than you were used to, and if your brain had a spare synapse to process it, you'd probably have melted.

"yes, and i'm sorry i haven't told you," you avoided his eyes, "it's my ex."

"oh, fuckin' 'ell," he sighed, dropping his arms to his side, and he's about to speak, until you interrupt.

"we broke up years ago, but he's never left me alone," you ring your wrists with your hands nervously, and hobie notices – you looked terrified, "i've tried everything; i've tried the police, i've moved countless times, i've changed jobs, made new friends, met new people – he won't leave me be."

tears welled up now, and his heart reached for you, but his arms stayed stuck by his side.

"every guy that i meet, he's, i don't know, calling them telling them i'm someone i'm not, or following them home and slashing tires, or roughing them up outside pubs," paranoia enveloped you, and your eyes darting around the crowd, "i was so scared, because you're the best i've ever had, and probably will ever have, and i don't want him to scare you off."

"y/n–"

"and i understand if this has done exactly what i'm scared of, because i get that keeping it from you was awful, but i was only trying to protect you and–"

his lips cut you off, warm against your own, capturing your words and pushing them back down your throat. hands on your cheeks, body flush against your own, you melted into him completely. it felt like heaven, like months of tension and longing unravelling like ribbon into the wind. it was safe, gentle, like a promise – a promise that it didn't scare him, and that he was yours.

"is he here?" his voice was low, lips hovering yours.

"i-i don't know," you were flustered, your brain trying to make sense of it all, but his hand on the small of your back stopped any cognitive thoughts, "i haven't seen him."

watching him, hobie's dark eyes floated around the crowd, before falling back onto you. smirk on his lips, he placed a quick peck onto your cheek.

"hmm, i hope he enjoyed the show," he chuckled lowly, and you couldn't help but mimic it, relief flooding off your shoulders, "how about we go somewhere a bit safer?"

"like where?" you questioned, intrigued by the coaxing tone of his voice.

"well, i only live around the corner," he shrugged, before offering his hand. blushing, you slipped your hand into his, the soft skin of his fingers pulling you towards him, until he threw his arm around your shoulder.

"nothing could scare me off, you know," he whispered, placing a kiss to your hair, "i'm 'ard as nails."

"oh yeah?" you giggled.

"mhmm."

clothed eyes glued to the suspicious figure, hobie stood on a rooftop, footsteps silent as he follows the man below. tailing him through the cobbled back lanes of london, hobie's back tingled with apprehension – he'd been following him for at least a mile, waiting for a perfect opportunity.

and he'd finally found it.

pausing his heavy stroll, the man dug into his pockets and pulled out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes, fumbling further for a lighter. a small orange glow lit up the air around him as he puffed away, smoke fluttering to meet hobie's nose.

silently, hobie swung to a platform below, pulling his guitar tighter against his back and dropped to the hard ground. the sound of his leather boots colliding with the cobble made the man turn in his direction, eyes wide at the sight.

"spiderman?" the man breathed between puffs, voice hoarse, "can i help you?"

"you know what, i think you can," hobie strutted, hands stuffed into his leather jacket, lanky stance towering him, "are you y/n's ex fella?"

"who's asking?" he questioned stupidly, and hobie let out a laugh.

"bruv, who's– are you stupid or somethin'?" hobie punched him lightly in the shoulder, "do you not see the whole get up?"

"the fuck have you got to do with y/n?" he spat, defensive stance taking over his body.

"none of your business," hobie knew that would sting, "but you're gonna leave her alone, fella."

"you don't know what you're talking about."

"i'm not askin', mate," hobie stepped closer, "and i'm not givin' you a choice."

before he could even utter a response, hobie had swung his spike-studded arm in his direction, knuckles colliding against the pathetic man's jaw, knocking him to the ground below.

"tha's my girl you're messin' with now."

#hobie brown #hobie brown fanfiction #hobie brown imagine #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk #spider punk x you #spider punk x reader #spider punk #hobie #hobie my beloved #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #across the spiderverse #hobie x you #across the spider verse spoilers

5K notes · View notes

earlysunshines · 5 months ago

Text

it's (always) you

danielle marsh x fem!reader ; fluff, angst

synopsis: everyone has a set date and time tattooed onto them indicating their date of death. it’s your time soon, so you move out away from the city and end up in a small town and meet a very special girl.

warnings: slowburn, pining, angst ; mentions of death ; making out! making out w mo dani… ; reader has trauma (parents dead or wtv) ; anything else not mentioned ; literally not proofread it’s joever…

a/n: hi mo dani enjoyers i hope u all enjoy i lowk (highk) put a lot of effort into this embrassingly enough so um Yeah pls lmk how u like it ^_^

everyone has a predetermined time and date for their death. whether it’s a natural end or something peculiar, there’s no avoiding it.

this inevitability applies to everyone. no one can escape this fate—not your friends, parents, and not you. there are no exceptions, no miracles; no one can escape death unless they’re something more than a human.

as far as you know, you’re very much mortal. there’s a mark on your upper rib that has the date of your destined death in dark ink.

one thing you can escape is your misery, you're not going to spend the last few months of your life cooped up in a cramped, single bedroom apartment. the time you have left is short, so you might as well make the most of it.

before your parents passed two years ago, they entrusted you with a key to a safe, urging you to open it when the time felt right. they died on the same day, figured that going for a swim on their beach trip with you would be a wonderful idea, espeically on their death day. they often joked that they were soulmates, destined to be together. this belief was cemented not only by the matching date tattoos they had, but also by their coincidental placements—your father's mark below his left ear and your mother's below her right. their love and fate were intertwined in a way that seemed almost too perfect to be real.

you wonder if there’s some other universe where you’re all still together, you often wonder about that.

the safe they had given you is in the depths of your storage closet, you had shoved it there when you first moved in and haven’t touched it since – not until now.

it’s placed on your coffee table, you’re sitting on the floor and staring at the key biting the inside of your lip. when the time is right. the words ring in your head and you think, is this it? how do you know?

you don’t have time to wonder if this is the right time, either way, the safe will have to be opened sooner or later. you have exactly seven months, you can’t risk it. besides, you’ve already decided that you’re selling everything you own in your small, claustrophobic apartment and leaving for good – at least until it’s your time.

you push the key into the slot, turning it to the right and hearing two clicks before the door unlocks. you move your hand over to the little door handle and hesitate for a moment, swallowing shallowly before you open.

inside, there’s a small shoebox, a little book, and a debit card being held to a note with an old rubber band. it’s a little dusty inside, making you cough when you pull out each item and examine them all closely.

the shoebox is the first thing you reach for. brushing off the dust, you notice the little adidas logo before carefully opening it. your hand flies to your mouth in shock at what you see inside. it’s filled with cash—stacks of bills neatly arranged. you estimate there’s enough to cover your rent for three or four months at least. you can't believe your eyes, staring at the sight longer to ensure it isn’t a dream.

grabbing a stack, you measure its thickness against your finger, finding it to be about half its length. as you flip through, you discover each bill is a twenty. from the color and what you can glimpse in the rest of the box, you notice some stacks start with fifties, more twenties, and you’re almost certain there’s one topped with a hundred. the sheer amount leaves you awestruck, the reality of it sinking in as you carefully examine each stack.

the next item is the little book, you open it to find things worth more than all of the money in the shoe box.

there are pictures of you as a child, of your parents before you were born, and of the three of you together. as you flip through each page, the photos become more recent. by the time you reach the end, you realize it’s a chronological timeline capturing every moment they could. each image, a fragment of your shared history, leaves you feeling both nostalgic and overwhelmed. a tear slides down your cheek and you don’t even realize it.

the last item is the debit card, you look at it, grazing the material and looking at the slight dust on your fingers after.

you open the letter, looking closely and reading what’s written:

debit card value: 15000.

y/n, we miss you as much as you do, really.

we hope this finds you well, and that you have time left.

do what you will with the money, and don’t spend too much time sulking looking at the pictures.

be happy and don’t miss out on anything. make friends, experience more, meet people, maybe even find your own little soulmate. ha.

we love you always, don’t forget it. spend your time wisely, and live life to the fullest – don’t waste out on anything!

– lots of love, always, mom and dad.

you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. the ache in your chest is bittersweet, but mainly bitter.

when you finish reading, a few drops of water stain the paper in your hand—tears you hadn’t realized had fallen. now you find yourself sniffling, holding this piece of love from your parents.

you pinch your eyes shut, wiping away the tears, but the crying only intensifies. it’s overwhelming – all of it. the countless hours spent staring at the ceiling, missing the two people who raised you, trying to hold yourself together until you had time to grieve. and now, holding this letter, it feels like a fresh wound.

–

you have no clue where you’re headed.

it took you two hours to stop crying and finally pull out your laptop. before opening the safe, your plan was to find an escape from the city. through squinted eyes, sniffles, and a pile of tissues, you managed to load the website for train and bus tickets. there were various options; one of them was to take a plane to somewhere completely foreign and figure things out there. however, the price was steep, and despite everything, you realized you still had a fondness for your area; a piece of your parents was practically anywhere if you stayed, and you can’t imagine leaving.

so now you’re on a train staring out the window as it departs, watching the buildings in the distance fade into trees and natural sights.

you bought the train and bus tickets because they were cheap and led to the water, ironically enough considering how your parents died. you always loved the beach, and your parents did too, maybe the beach loved them too much. besides the worst incident on the beach, many happy memories often had the beach lingering close, and it had always been a little dream of yours to just laze around someplace nearby it. after the chaos of the city that had surrounded you most of your life, you craved something quiet, mundane, and rural. a serene escape to the beach seemed like the perfect place for your final moments.

besides, you might as well follow in your parents’ footsteps.

you had fallen asleep on the train, exhausted from the emotional whirlwind. a gentle tap on your shoulder stirred you awake, and you slowly opened your eyes to see an elderly lady gazing at you with concern.

her kind eyes and soft expression immediately made you feel a bit more at ease. “are you okay?” she asks, voice slightly raspy.

“h-huh? hi, sorry, yeah.”

“you’re not dying today, are you?” she questions worriedly, but looks pretty unbothered despite her inquiry. “at least you didn’t pass sleeping on the train.”

“no, no.” you blink hard, waving your hand in the air as you dismiss her and simultaneously wake up from your four-hour nap. “i have um– a while before that.”

“good, good.” she says, then waves at you. “better get off quick honey, you wouldn’t want to miss your bus, would you? wherever you’re headed…”

“ah, no.”

“the busses in this area take longer since it’s not the city, you better hurry!”

“right, yes. thank you miss.” you nod at her, getting up and putting on your backpack, then grabbing your suitcase. you walk down the aisle, following behind her and getting off.

you check your ticket crumpled up in your pocket, looking at it closely and looking around for the stations. you pass by a small cafe and convenience store as you rush down the corridor, desperately looking for the sign that shows bus ‘11.’

ten minutes pass, your eyes finally find the sign, and five people are getting on to the bus as you catch sight of it. you run as fast as you can, picking up your suitcase during your rush and manage to get to the bus just as the doors had closed.

you knock on the windows of the doors, the bus driver looks at you, raising his brows and sighing as he presses a button. in no time, the doors fold inwards and you hop on, breathless.

“thank you so much,” you say in between breaths, “i’m sorry.”

he nods, then looks at you expectedly, holding his hand out. “ticket?”

“oh, yes.” you open your fist, giving him the slightly crumpled paper you had in your hand as you ran towards the vehicle. you look at him apologetically, muttering a small, “sorry.”

the bus driver tilts his head, motioning for you to just get on and find a seat. coincidentally, you make eye contact with the lady from before, sighing in relief and sitting next to her after seeing her pat down the empty space.

“i suppose we’re headed the same way.”

“yeah, what a coincidence.” you breath out, smiling at her. you haven’t smiled in a while, it feels good to do it, and it feels even better when she pats your shoulder and smiles back.

–

an hour later, the bus comes to a stop, and the old lady taps on your knee while you’re ten seconds away from falling asleep.

“this is where i get off dear.”

“ah, um–” you still have no idea where you’re going – the only think you know is that this bus allegedly leads to the beach, somewhere close at least. something about the lady and seeing her again urges you to follow her, it just feels right. maybe she’ll lead you where you need to go. “--this is my stop too.”

“ah, i see.”

“do you need help with your bags?”

“i’m quite alright dear, thank you.” she says, grabbing her big purse and scooting out after you had done so.

you follow her out the bus, then admire the scenery around you.

it’s three in the afternoon and the sun is shining all over, warming your face up. you’re in a small town, there’s the same shops and whatnot that you’d find in the city, but it’s smaller, much more home like, and in the distance you can see bright trees, bushes, and a small trail leading out. your mouth is agape just slightly as you observe and admire; it’s beautiful wherever you are.

“beautiful, right?” the lady is still there, you hadn’t noticed. “your first time here?”

“yeah.” you mumble, turning back to look down at her.

she smiles warmly and asks, “are you hungry?” you pause, opening your mouth to respond, but no words come out. sensing your hesitation, she smiles again, brushing it off. “you must be tired too. come, i’ll cook you something.”

before you can answer, she’s already heading off, dragging her suitcase in a different direction. with nothing else to do and no plan – you follow her.

as you walk, you pass various buildings, from quaint shops and cozy cafes to cute bookstores and a post office where elderly men play chess out front. the sight makes you smile without realizing it, a sense of comfort and fondness settling over you for this new place you've found.

it’ll be alright. you think, looking down at the back of your phonecase to see a small picture of you and your parents through the clear material.

–

she leads you to a restaurant down the road, it takes less than ten minutes to get there and only one turn after walking down the same sidewalk.

there are two small wooden tables outside, each with two matching chairs. behind the seating area, a large glass window offers a clear view inside. the window, though slightly worn, proudly displays a sign that reads "lee’s kitchen." through the glass, you can see more seating inside and a front desk.

everything about this place exudes comfort, from the trees, vines, and bushes that surround it to the cat sleeping peacefully beside a flower pot. the greenery wraps around the building and is highlighted by the sun’s glow, adding to its charm. the calico cat, nestled in a cozy spot, seems to embody the tranquility of the area. you love it already.

she leads you in, a bell ringing when the door opens.

she points over to a small table by the wall, gesturing you to settle down and relax for the time being.

“you can place your luggage on the other chair, there won’t be anyone here today.”

“right, thank you.”

“mhm.” she checks the clock on the wall, then smiles. “my granddaughter might barge in, let her know im cooking in the back, alright?”

“yeah, of course. thank you again.”

“it’s no problem…”

“y/n.” you respond. “my name is y/n.”

“lovely name. you can call me mrs. lee. settle down alright?”

“thank you.”

“it’s nothing.” she says, then disappears behind the counter and past the door to the back.

you walk over to the table she had pointed to, setting your bag next to you and leaving your suitcase nearby. you sigh, closing your eyes and then opening them again to look around. near the counter there’s a photo framed of ms. lee, an elderly man, and a younger girl who looks around six years old. looking at the frame you smile. the photo looks a little old, similar to the photos your parents had left you.

you take in the whole area, illuminated by warm lightbulbs that cast a cozy glow. the tables and chairs, though a bit older, feel comfortable and inviting. the ground is covered in faded dark gray marble tiles, and the seating areas are made of sturdy wood. plants are scattered around, adding touches of greenery. in one corner, there’s a tv that’s turned off. you’re not used to older places; everything in the city was either renovated or styled to look vintage. but this place is different—you can tell it’s genuinely aged with love and care, its authenticity warms your heart.

the bell above the door jingles, you turn your head to see who’s stepped in.

“grandma? are you back? who unlocked the door…” she mumbles the last part to herself, then furrows her brows and clutches her backpack strap when she sees you. “who are you?”

“oh, hi. um, your grandma is in the back, she led me here…”

“huh.” she hums, then shrugs. “i will be back, stranger.”

“um, okay?”

the girl walks past the counter and towards the other door, you assume this area is just the restaurant and their home is inside it. a few moments later, the girl comes back and sits in front of you. she’s changed out of the school uniform she had been wearing earlier and is now wearing an old t-shirt and linen shorts.

she looks at you, narrowing her eyes. “you’re not from here.” she states bluntly.

“i’m not.” you respond, looking back curiously. “you’ve got a good eye.”

“most people from here don’t have more than three piercings on their ear, neither do they have many tattoos.” she points out, her eyes filled with wonder are drawn to the faint flower on your upper forearm with a date printed on it. she tilts her head, widens her eyes a little, then says, “the date on your arm has already passed.”

“it’s my parents’ time, not mine.”

“oh, i’m sorry.”

“it’s alright.” you assure. “i’m from the city.”

“ah.” she clicks her tongue. “that’s cool.”

“is it?”

“i’ve heard lots about it, i’ve been once when i was young. it was cool.”

“kinda.” you smile at her, then rub on the ink tattooed on your arm. “did you grow up here?”

she hums. “born and raised!”

you can’t help but giggle at her energy and curiosity.

the girl looks about sixteen, quite young. she has a smile on her face now, quickly eager to converse and mingle with the random woman in her… home? restaurant? you’re not sure, but you figure you’ll find out.

“right, that’s lovely. is this restaurant yours?”

“my grandma’s.”

“ah, i see. i like it, it’s nicer than all of the ones in the city.”

“really?” she asks, then smiles wider. “my grandma’s restaurant is the best here.”

“is that so?” you respond cheekily, entertained by her statement.

before she can respond, her eyes redirect behind you and she lights up completely. she gets up, rushing over and you turn to see her hugging mrs. lee.

“you’re back! i didn’t think you’d be back so early grandma.”

“well, i’m here. did you eat enough at school? have some bibimbap. i’m worried you haven’t been eating well these days hyein.”

“i’m fine grandma, haerin shared with me.”

“kang’s daughter?”

“yes!” the girl beams – hyein.

mrs. lee walks over to your table and gently places two bowls in front of you. hyein sits back down across from you, eyeing the food hungrily. you look down at the bowl filled with spinach, carrots, beef, string beans, mushrooms, rice, and a sunny side up egg on top. the sauce poured over it makes the dish look even more mouthwatering. you glance up and catch hyein's gaze, which makes you smile.

her grandmother, mrs. lee, affectionately rubs hyein's shoulder, then yours. you look up in surprise, touched by the simple gesture of kindness. “eat up you two.” she says.

“thank you mrs. lee.” you respond sincerely, then mix up everything in your bowl. the older woman walks away, disappearing behind the counter again.

you take a bite of the food, sighing as you chew and it looks like you’re melting. it’s wonderful.

“told you it’s the best.” hyein shrugs, then takes a bite herself. “i missed this.”

the two of you eat in silence for a bit, it’s nice. you’re eating lunch with the granddaughter of some lady you had met miraculously, and it’s really making you happier than you’ve been the past few months.

hyein finishes her bite, swallowing and then asking, “so, what’s your name? how did you get here? are you travelling or something?”

she throws a lot of questions at you, you finish your bite before responding, “well, my name is y/n. i took the train and bus here, i don’t really have a plan. i think i’ll stay here as long as i can, it seems right.”

“really? you’re going to be the talk of the town then.”

“am i?”

“yeah, you’re new. everyone here knows everyone, but it’s not a bad thing that you’re new. everyone here is very nice.”

“that’s good.” you mumble, then take another bite.

“where are you staying?”

“probably a hotel nearby, i guess.”

“you’re going to stay in a hotel nearby the whole time?”

“until i can find a place to stay for a bit, not too long.”

“how long?”

you dig at your food, poking your spoon at a mushroom in your bowl. hyein continues to eye you, looking at you deeply and waiting for an answer. you take another bite, then look to the side toward the framed photo hung on the wall.

“until my time is up.”

hyein pauses, looking at the side of your face until you turn back to meet her eyes. her lips part, she doesn’t speak for a bit. you continue, “i have a while though. i’m just… trying to make it through until i can’t.”

“ah. i’m sorry.”

“it’s nothing to be sorry about hyein, it’s natural.”

“right.” she says quietly, then takes another bite of her food. “danielle’s time is up soon too i think.”

“danielle?” you question.

“this girl in town, probably your age. she’s really nice and wonderful, you wouldn’t even know that she’d be dying–” she clears her throat before rewording, “-- that her time is soon. she’s like… a ball of sunshine. you’ll probably run into her.”

“ah.”

“you say that a lot.”

“well what else am i supposed to say?”

“i don’t know.” hyein shrugs, then laughs. “it’s funny.”

you stick your tongue out at her before the two of you start to finish your food again.

–

mrs. lee insists on letting hyein help you find a place to stay because she apparently is out all the time and knows almost every nook and cranny of the town.

the closest (and only) hotel in the town is nearby where the bus had stopped. it’s small and seems to be a little on the older side. hyein leads you in, immediately getting greeted by an older man who smiles at her fondly.

“if it isn’t ms. lee hyein.” he grins, then looks at you. “ah, you’ve brought a friend?”

“this is y/n. she’s looking for a place to stay for a bit.”

he looks you up and down, eyes lingering on your tattoo. then he smiles, he has a lovely one. the man has visible wrinkles and dark gray hair, he wears a button up shirt that’s loose on him and chino pants held by a brown leather belt.

“well, that i can help you with ms. y/n.”

“thank you sir.”

“no need for formalities.” he waves his hand, “i know a wonderful single bed room for you.”

“thank you.”

he leads you towards the stairs, there’s no elevator in this hotel. it seems much more like a big home rather than a hotel, at least compared to the city. he leads you to the second floor of the building, then down the hall and to the room right at the end. hyein follows the whole way.

he fishes a key from his pocket and unlocks the door, holding it open for you to roll your suitcase in. you marvel at the sight before you: a well-made queen bed, the perfect amount of space, and curtains drawn back to reveal a distant beach. the azure water glimmers, mesmerizing you. it looks like a pleasant bike ride or a short drive to get there. the room feels inviting, a sanctuary with a breathtaking view.

“woah.” hyein says, looking out with you.

“it’s beautiful – the beach and the room sir.”

he laughs, then smiles proudly. “im glad you’re fond of it. will you be staying?”

“yes, yeah.” you respond immediately. “it’s amazing.”

it’s more than that, you wish you could live here. waking up in the city gave you the same view of the building next to you, which was boring and nothing compared to the top of the apartments with rent that costed more than a third of your previous paycheck.

–

you spend time settling into the hotel, but not too much. you’re still looking around for a place to stay, the houses aren’t too bad, but you won’t be here long enough for it to be worth buying.

the apartments aren’t too bad either, but they’re small and cluttered. you’re a bit lost on what you should do, so you spend time exploring the time while you reconsider everything.

additionally, you’ve been over at mrs. lee’s to just lounge and clear your mind. it’s nice sitting by the counter watching the regulars come in and mingle.

hyein – the sixteen year old girl, basically a child – is your first and only friend at the moment. after school (for her), around three hours past noon, you spend time eating lunch with hyein, talking to her about your current situation and asking her for advice since it’s her hometown.

you explain that the prices are pretty scary, but not too bad, and hyein dismisses your suggestions.

“those neighborhoods are not as nice as mine, try this area.”

“are there any good places?”

“apartment down the road, but i don’t know… the owner is kind of sketchy.”

“what do i do then.” you sigh, taking a bite out of your cold noodles. “the hotel is pretty and all, but it’s not cheap at all. plus, i don’t think the money i have can keep me going.”

“hmm… i’ll have to ask my grandma.”

you sigh, poking at your noodles again. you hear the bell over the restaurant door jingle, both you and hyein turn your heads to see who’s arrived – just out of curiosity.

hyein's face lights up with surprise and joy as she sees the woman who has just walked in. she jumps out of her seat and rushes to hug her, wrapping her arms tightly around her. the woman smiles with her eyes closed, hugging hyein just as tightly. hyein whispers something you can’t hear, then looks at you and excitedly tugs the woman over to your table.

they reach where you’re sitting and that’s when you notice just how striking the woman is.

your ears twitch and you straighten your posture. the woman has a few moles on the right side of her face, pretty eyes with noticeably long eyelashes, and is smiling at you sweetly. she tucks a strand of hair that isn’t tied up, then greets you, “hi.” her voice is higher than yours, soft, and bright.

“this is danielle, i think i mentioned her.”

danielle. she’s the girl hyein was talking about, she also had little time.

“you have pretty eyes.” danielle catches you off guard with the sudden compliment, you feel your cheeks warm up just a bit. “it’s nice to meet you…?”

you cough. “y/n. it’s y/n.”

“cute name! how do you like the town?”

“oh, it’s lovely.”

“it really is. have you been to the beach yet?”

“i haven’t gotten the time.”

“that’s a shame, you should visit soon when you have the chance.” she says, then turns to hyein and hugs her again. “well, i have to get going. i just wanted to stop by and say hi!”

“do you really have to?” hyein whines.

“i have to help out at the shelter, sorry hyeinie.”

“aw.” hyein pouts. “i’ll see you later then.”

“oh for sure, i was planning on having dinner here with my family sometime this week.”

you watch hyein smile brightly and grab danielle’s hand, leading her back to the entrance, leaving you alone. you continue to gaze after them, admiring danielle’s side profile and grinning to yourself. something about her, just upon seeing her, feels inexplicably right.

as soon as danielle entered your field of vision, something clicked inside you. it’s like a dream, a sense of déjà vu that you can’t quite place. the feeling is both familiar and surreal, as if you’ve known her forever and yet are seeing her for the first time. plus, your body tingles, you feel yourself relaxing and tensing up at the same time, it’s odd; you don’t even know her.

you linger in that moment, captivated by the strange yet comforting sensation that her presence brings.

–

a day later you’re back at mrs. lee’s restaurant, hyein has led you to the back where the kitchen is, then leaves you alone with her grandma.

mrs. lee stands there cutting up some carrots, then says, “i heard you’re looking for a place to stay?”

“yes.”

“have you had any luck?”

“um,” you haven’t had any luck, because each place either had a sketchy landlord (according to hyein) or just didn’t sit right with you price wise and really just with the overall atmosphere. you shake your head. “no, not yet.”

“y/n,” she starts, pausing and setting her knife down. mrs. lee looks at you with an intense gaze, making you feel small despite her being nearly a head shorter than you, and even shorter than hyein. “would you like to stay here?” she asks, her eyes searching yours for an answer.

you freeze, looking at her with disbelief. “w-what? are you serious?”

“we have space for you.”

“i– i couldn’t, i don’t want to be a burden.”

“you could always help out at the restaurant. maybe even help out hyein with her studies or anything like that.”

“really?”

“yes dear. hyein suggested it, she’s really fond of you.”

you continue to gaze at her, stunned by the offer. you wonder if it’s truly okay to live with them, having known them for less than two weeks. it might be a hassle for them to accommodate you. yet, hyein has been keeping you at the restaurant, sharing stories about her day and clearly enjoying your company. her happiness is reassuring; she’s a good friend.

the offer is incredibly generous—a place to live in exchange for some help. it’s a fair trade, and with the money you have, you could contribute in the best way possible.

mrs. lee still stares at you, waiting for an answer.

you nod. “i’ll take it, thank you so much. i promise i’ll do anything i can to help and not be a burden.”

she laughs softly, then gestures towards the carrots on the cutting board. “have you ever cooked?” she asks.

“um, yes. my dad used to work at a restaurant.”

“perfect. could you chop these into thin slices? do you know how to jullienne them?”

“y-yeah, of course. let me wash my hands.”

she claps her hands together, looking at you proudly. “and you even know the hygiene policies.”

you smile at her, laughing as you turn on the sink and then excusing yourself when you accidentally splash water on an employees apron. mrs. lee looks at you fondly. she watches you cut the carrots with precision and decent speed, nodding with approval.

–

the room next to hyein’s is a guest bedroom, it’s quite small, but it’s more than enough.

hyein helps you with your luggage, but you assure her that everything is alright. (she still helps you out anyway, at least with your trinkets and whatnot)

you leave the suitcase with your clothes on the ground and unpack your things from your bag, hyein eyes your cd player on the bed, looking at it closely. you catch her staring, then grin.

“you can check it out.”

“really?”

“of course.” you assure. she eagerly sits down on the bed and looks at the small device, turning it around and inspecting each side. you laugh and head over next to her, pulling out a cd from your bag. “here,” you hand it to her. you press a button and it opens something, making hyein’s eyes widen. you place the cd in, then press play.

an instrumental plays, filling the quiet room with a soft melody. you stare at the ground, humming along slowly. hyein observes you close.

“what’s this?”

“an old chet baker cd, it was my dad’s. he collected many, i tried to bring all my favorites here with me.”

“it’s nice.” hyein mumbles, “the song.”

you flop down on the bed, laying down and staring up at the ceiling.

“my parents used to cook dinner to jazz, this was my dad’s favorite. my mom is a fan of fred astaire.”

you spend the next thirty minutes playing your favorite songs for hyein, she’s fond of everything you show her. she hears you humming along, and it makes her smile. she’s only known you for a little while, but she can tell you’re one special person.

–

two weeks have already flown by, and you’ve been working at lee’s kitchen in the meantime. you start early in the morning, continuing until hyein returns home. then, you help her with any studies she needs assistance with. when that’s done, she eagerly drags you to her favorite spots, showing you the best coffee places around to satisfy your cravings, even if it’s a bit late for caffeine.

you've settled into something comfortable, maybe even a routine. if this is how you'll spend your last couple of months, then you're perfectly fine with the mundane. you don't have any siblings, but hyein is what you imagine it would be like to have one. you two bicker the way you've seen others bicker, and you enjoy every moment spent together. despite the three-year age difference, you've grown close quickly, sharing laughs and conversations about anything.

this is when you learn that it’s not time that makes strong bonds, it’s the people and their energy. you’ve known others for years only for them to walk away and drift off in a snap, none of those years added up to what you have with hyein.

she’s something like a sister to you, something like that. maybe a cousin – something familial.

–

“here’s your mandu, sauce, and vegetables. you sure you don’t want anything else?” you ask the customers outside – an older couple, maybe in their thirties or so.

the woman shakes her head, then smiles at you warmly. “thank you, it’s fine, really.”

“right, just let me know if you need anything.”

“thank you.” she says finally. you smile then turn to pick up the dishes left on the other table outside, and also the six dollar tip.

you balance the dishes on one hand, but almost drop them after turning around to see a familiar face, someone you met a few weeks ago.

her slightly grown out bangs fall over her forehead, parted in the middle. she looks at you with a smile, her pretty brown eyes sparkling. her long eyelashes make her even more striking, she looks like a princess almost, especially with the morning sun shining down on her. danielle waves at you, her smile growing wider, revealing a glimpse of her teeth.

“y/n! hi!” she greets, “i didn’t know you worked here too?”

“hi danielle.” you mumble, “mrs. lee gave me the job a few weeks ago actually, i’m really grateful.”

“ah, i see.”

you nod, then turn your head at the door. “let’s go inside, it’s pretty hot out here.”

“right.”

as you head through the door, you turn your body a bit so that the dishes on your hand can fit through too. danielle follows right behind, then seats herself right at the chair by the counter. she watches you head to the back, then peek out a minute later and pat down your apron.

you pull out your notepad, then ask, “what can i get you?”

“hmmm,” she pouts a bit as she thinks. “some cold noodles would be great, just a small portion though. could i get some sliced carrots on the side?”

“of course, anything else?”

“your company when you’re done with it, if that’s possible.”

you look up from your notepad, she’s just looking at you with her head tilted and smiling. you swallow lightly, then smile as you respond shyly, “um, i can… do my best. it’s not busy, i’ll ask mrs. lee.”

“great.”

offering one more smile and avoiding eye contact, you rush to the back and give the cooks the order. mrs. lee is cutting vegetables, you hesitantly approach her. she looks up, then smiles at you warmly before handing you small carrot slice. you laugh, moving your head over to grab it in between your teeth and take a bite.

“have you eaten yet dear?”

“no, um it’s nothing though. i just had a question.”

“you should eat soon… and what was it?”

“do you know danielle?”

“marsh?”

“i don’t know her last name… um, she has brown eyes and long lashes. very smiley.”

mrs. lee clicks her tongue. “yes, i know her.”

“right, yeah. she’s here, she ordered cold noodles and–”

“--carrots, her usual.” mrs. lee finishes your sentence. “sorry, what about her?”

“she just… asked me to keep her company.”

“well go on then.”

“oh, really?”

“you haven’t eaten either, go fix yourself something up and keep the girl company. she’s a lovely lady, really. very nice, very bubbly. hyein loves her, everyone does.”

“right.” you nod your head, looking down at the ground quickly before adding, “you’re sure it’s fine?”

“dear, this isn’t the city. it’s not too busy here, especially not right now. i don’t want you starving either.”

“of course, thank you.”

–

danielle waits nearly ten minutes, she’s looking at a magazine on the table before you’re back outside with her dishes. she immediately lights up looking at you, which makes you blush a bit; is everyone here so happy and bright?

you place her food down in front of her, then run back behind the counter to take off your apron and grab your own dish before sitting down next to her.

“whatcha got there?” she asks, eyeing your bowl.

“just eggs over rice with seaweed and soy sauce, nothing big.”

“looks wonderful,” she grabs a carrot slice with her chopstick and eats it happily. “yum.”

“yeah,” you awkwardly look down at your food before taking a bite. “yum.”

it’s strange, but also oddly comforting. being next to her is stressful at first, both of you simply eat in silence and danielle hums hear and there to let you know how much she enjoys her dish. you find yourself smirking as you eat, but don’t dare to look at her. not until she starts a conversation.

“so what brings you here?”

“sorry, what?”

“to the town.”

“oh.” you say mid bite, then swallow. “just… troubles. i needed to get out the city and… live a little.”

“i love that.” she grins, then takes another bite.

“thanks?” you let out a little laugh before poking at your egg. “what prompted you to ask me to give you company?”

she shrugs. “i just think you’re interesting, that’s all.”

for some reason, an enamored flutter stirs in your chest. you mutter a small, “ah,” before taking another bite of your food. even after danielle finishes her meal first, she keeps asking you questions, eager to have a conversation. when you finish your meal and hear the bell above the door ring, signaling a customer, mrs. lee suddenly pops out from the back and pushes you back into your seat. danielle giggles, extending your time together.

during your conversation, she learns that you’re an only child, about the tattoo on your forearm that you got because of your parents, and your hobbies. talking to her is surprisingly easy, much easier than with anyone you’ve ever met in the city. there, people shut down small talk, so you eventually gave up. but danielle isn’t the type to give up. she gives you her full attention, which is different than you’re used to.

this urges you to ask your own questions. you learn that she works at an animal shelter owned by her friends’ parents and tends to the pets. she even pulls out her phone to show you pictures of a dog she’s become close to—a fluffy friend named jerry. as she swipes through an album of two hundred photos, her expressions are adorable. it’s heartwarming, and you feel a sense of connection that you hadn’t expected.

“he’s so lovely and playful and–” a notification on her phone cuts her off, you read a bit and it’s a reminder that she has to clock into work soon. she frowns, then apologizes, “agh, i lost track of time.” and so did you, it’s been nearly thirty minutes but it had felt like five. “i should get going, it was great talking to you! hey, if you have time you should come over to the shelter! i can write address for you if you get lost.”

“it’s fine,” you say, already stacking both of your dishes together. “and i’d love to visit.”

“great, i love your company.”

“you do?”

“of course!” danielle giggles again, it brings a smile to your face. “i’ll see you around, okay? promise you’ll visit?”

“yes, yeah.” you mutter, “i’ll drop by.”

“great,” danielle says, then fishes for a marker in her little purse. she grabs your hand, catching you off guard. “can i?” she asks, pointing to your forearm.

“o-oh, yeah, of course.”

“sweet.” she starts to scribble an address, then a number. you watch closely, then your eyes drift away from your arm to her concentrated expression. she finishes writing and caps the pen again, clapping her hands proudly. “i also put my number just in case, text me if you need!”

“thanks danielle.”

“you can call me dani! since we’re friends now.”

friends. it makes you happy hearing it, you’re friends after a single conversation with her.

“alright, thanks friend.” your response earns a snicker from danielle, she’s shaking her head and smiling at you again before saying,

“you’re funny, i like you.” it sends another flutter in your chest, you gulp. “see you!”

“bye dani!”

she waves at you again before heading out the door, eliciting a jingle sound throughout the restaurant. you keep staring at the door, stuck in place until you feel a tap a your shoulder.

when you turn around, mrs. lee is beside you looking at the door and smiling.

“she’s a very sweet girl.” mrs. lee says, then looks up at you.

“yeah, i can tell.”

“she seems to be fond of you.”

“really? that’s good…”

“i’m glad you’re making friends y/n. you can’t hang around hyein forever…” she jokes, it makes your cheeks burn from embarrassment. you’re nineteen very much an adult, the revelation that your closest and only friend is a sixteen year old girl who’s currently in class.

you laugh, then shyly mumble, “thanks.”

–

later that evening, you and hyein head out to explore. you mention your conversation with danielle, and the girl walking next to you beams, evidently delighted.

you suggest walking to the animal shelter where danielle invited you to visit, and hyein lights up at the mere mention. she jumps up and exclaims, “yes!” before grabbing your hand and leading you down the road with infectious enthusiasm. it seems that danielle spreads all kinds of joy and excitement wherever she goes. how lovely.

the two of you make it there in no time, the ten minute walk seemed like nothing, somehow.

it’s a small building, but it looks incredibly charming from the outside. the wooden framing and exterior give it a warm, cozy feel, and the little sign reading “kang’s kare shelter” makes you smile. the place exudes a welcoming vibe, and you can only imagine how much lovelier it must be inside, especially if danielle is there too.

walking in, you’re greeted by someone who isn’t danielle.

instead, it’s a girl who lights up after seeing hyein, who runs behind the counter to hug her.

“haerin! surprise!”

“what are you doing here?”

hyein pouts, parting away and groaning, “you don’t sound thrilled.”

“pftt, you’ll just steal the snacks i bought.”

“hey! i’m also here to see the animals… and you i guess.”

the girl—haerin, presumably—rolls her eyes at hyein with a snarky grin. then she looks at you, tilting her head as you walk over and stand across the counter. hyein perks up when she sees you, dramatically gesturing with both hands as she introduces you.

“this is y/n! she just moved here from the city.”

“y/n?” haerin questions.

“that’s me.”

“oh, danielle mentioned you earlier. your eyes are nice...”

“what?” you raise a brow, confused.

the girl shrugs, then mumbles, “nothing.” she walks out, tilting her head to urge you and hyein to follow her. “come, i’ll show you the pets. danielle is doing a check-up on the only client—er, animal—we have.” she explains, then looks at hyein from the side, raising her brows with fake annoyance. “and hyein, i know you’re only here for jelly.”

“you know me too well.”

“whatever…” haerin sighs, opening a door to a room with three cats inside.

hyein gasps, looking at them all in awe. in a gentle voice, she fawns, saying “awww” and immediately running over to crouch down and pet the black cat by the window.

haerin walks over to the cat in the corner, clicking her tongue softly. the cat looks up at her and immediately walks over, rubbing its head against her hand. haerin smiles, petting it with care and affection.

you make your way to the orange cat sitting on a small chair, clearly designed for pets. you crouch down, gently stroking its fur. the cat stirs awake from its slumber and meows contentedly, making you smile. the room feels warm and peaceful, filled with the quiet sounds of purring and the soft rustle of fur.

after a minute or two of admiring the furry creature and snapping a few pictures, you catch haerin in your peripheral crouching down next to you, her eyes on the cat as she pets it too.

“danielle is in the room down the hall, just to let you know.”

“hm?” you turn to face her, she’s still petting the cat.

“go out the room and turn right, she’s in the room two doors down. she’s just doing a check-up. you can go see her if you want."

“oh, thanks.”

haerin turns to look at you. “have fun.” she mumbles, then brings the orange cat in her arms, looking at it like it’s her child.

you look over to see hyein sitting against the wall, all her attention is on the two cats that have found their way to their laps. you snap a quick picture before leaving the room.

your heart quickens with anticipation as you walk down the hall. you follow haerin’s directions and gently push open the door to find danielle tending to the same dog she had shown you earlier—jerry, who’s cuter in person. danielle is focused on the task at hand, using a stethoscope to listen to jerry's heartbeat, then checking his ears and gently inspecting his paws.

you hesitate for a moment before knocking softly on the door. danielle doesn't notice at first, but when she finally looks up and sees you, her face lights up with surprise and joy. her smile is radiant and contagious, you’re smiling too.

"y/n!" she exclaims, her eyes sparkling. "you came!"

“of course, i mean, you invited me.”

“aw, how sweet of you.” she says, then mumbles a, “lay down” and “stay.” to jerry, who does just as he’s told.

she walks over to you, then grabs your wrist without warning and it makes your heart skip a beat for some reason. she leads you over to the chair in the room and sits you down.

“did i bother you and jerry?”

“no, not at all. we’re almost done actually.” danielle assures, then turns back to tend to jerry.

you watch her work her magic, finishing up the job and giving him a treat after he’s done. she pats his head and helps him off the counter, he immediately rushes over to you and jumps up to lick your cheek.

“ah–” his tail is wagging, paws on your knees, and licking you sloppily.

“heyy jerry! i’m so sorry… he’s very excited to see you.”

“i’m glad,” you mutter through the outburst of affection. “does that mean i’m on his nice list?”

“everyone is,” she answers, watching you stand up so you can pet jerry without being bombarded with kisses. “but he’s never this excited. you’ve got some magic y/n-ie.”

the little nickname makes you smile harder, and jerry is jumping up so his paws claw at your pants more. danielle shakes her head in disapproval, but she’s still smiling as she calms him down.

you crouch to meet his level again, scratching behind his neck and petting him. you look up at danielle, who’s already looking at you.

“what breed is he?”

“burnese mountain dog, very affectionate dogs.”

jerry licks your hand, making you laugh. “that’s given.”

danielle crouches down next to you, she turns her head and it makes you nervous when your faces are so close together. she turns back to face jerry, fondly petting him. “he’s a very good boy, isn’t that right?” jerry barks in response, making her chuckle. “well, it’s time for him to rest. i gave him some medications earlier.”

“i see.”

“follow me.” she says. you nod.

you follow her into the next room, where danielle gently opens the door. jerry trots in and immediately heads to his cozy bed in the corner. danielle crouches beside him, her movements tender and reassuring. she lovingly pats him and plants a soft kiss on his head, which makes his tail wag slowly and then come to a gentle stop. with delicate, practiced motions, she scratches behind his ears and along his neck, using just the tips of her fingers. her soothing touch gradually calms him, and soon he’s lying comfortably, breathing evenly, and blinking slowly as he drifts into a state of peaceful relaxation.

her care and tenderness are genuinely admirable. the gentle, focused expression on her face as she tends to jerry mirrors the soft, loving way she interacts with him. it’s really cute. there’s a quiet grace in her movements and a warmth in her eyes that draws you in. you find yourself watching her with the same kind of admiration and affection she shows jerry, mesmerized by the serene connection between them.

she turns over to you, faintly mumbling, “hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“wait outside for me, would you? he’s a bit excited because you’re here. this guy here needs some rest.”

“oh– yeah, of course. sorry.”

“it’s fine, i won’t take long.”

you nod, giving her a soft smile before heading out the door.

as you take in the interior of the shelter, your gaze lingers on the wall adorned with photos of danielle, haerin, and their colleagues with the animals.

the pictures capture moments of joy and affinity—danielle’s pretty smile beside a playful puppy, haerin laughing with a contented cat on her lap. solo shots of the animals show their distinct personalities, while group photos feature jerry with his companions, their expressions curious. there’s also some pictures that show the other employees together with the animals.

the collection is heartwarming and conveys a sense of community and care. you find yourself smiling softly, touched by the genuine affection and dedication displayed in every frame.

the door opens in the corner of your eye, you turn and catch danielle peeking in as she closes it slowly.

“he’s asleep now.” danielle walks over to you, head tilted up just a bit. “i’m all yours now.”

the way she words everything is dangerous, it flusters you. she smiles like she hasn’t just formed a lump in your throat, making you cough to clear it.

“is he alright?”

“just inflammation and a bit of pain, he should be fine in the morning.”

“that’s great to hear.”

“it is.”

you stare at her for a little longer, struggling to find words to say. she beats you to it.

“did hyein tag along?”

“yeah, i was afraid i’d get lost.”

danielle giggles. “aw, she’s very sweet. her and haerin are close.”

“are they?”

“they go to school together, best friends.”

“that’s lovely.”

“mhm.” danielle turns her head in the other direction, putting her hands behind her back and holding her hands together. she bites the inside of her lip, then tilts her head, urging you to follow her.

“let me show you something, it’s better than the city i bet.”

you snicker, looking at her with raised brows. “you seem pretty confident.”

“trust me.” she starts to walk down the hall, taking a turn and leading you to sliding door. she opens it, stepping outside and you follow.

immediately, your jaw drops at the sight in front of you. it’s similar as the sight from the hotel you stayed in, giving you a view of the beach, but it’s prettier from this spot.

“woah.”

“is it better than the city?”

“for sure.”

danielle leans against the railing, gazing out at the sky. “this is the view i get to see everyday, i love it. i’m glad you came over, i wanted to show you this.”

“thank you, really.” you walk over to lean against the railing next to her, looking out as well. “you’re really sweet, like so sweet. i feel at home, you and everyone here are really welcoming.”

“well,” danielle starts, she’s facing you now. she looks at the side of your face, tracing down each feature before continuing, “a lovely person deserves a lovely welcome.”

—

haerin locks up the shelter, pulling on the door to ensure it’s fully locked. she turns around to shoot a small smile at danielle, holding a thumbs up.

“good to go.”

“great!”

the two walk down the road together, their route home is the same since danielle lives with haerin and her family. the two walk in silence for a bit, silence never hurts at all. they’ve been close since birth, and plus, haerin is just quiet, usually the listener.

but this time haerin is a bit curious, looking at danielle, who’s staring up at the sky. the sun has nearly set all the way.

“what did you and y/n do?”

“hm?” danielle turns her head. “oh, she met jerry!”

“ah.” haerin hums. “you seem very interested in her.”

“just curious.”

“hyein seems to like her a lot. city girl is interesting.”

danielle snickers at the nickname. “pftt, city girl…”

“well, city girl seems to be interested in you too.”

“she’s new and hasn’t mingled with many, it’s natural for her to do that.”

haerin shakes her head, then kicks a rock on the ground. “no, somethings different. same goes for you too.”

“what?” danielle’sbrows furrow slightly in confusion, but a soft giggle escapes her lips.

“you’re so eager to get to know her, you talked about her a lot today too. you’re not that talkative about people like that, not even with minji or hanni.”

danielle tilts her head, her eyes filled with a mix of amusement and curiosity, clearly trying to make sense of the unusual comment. “right,” the giggle lingers, a gentle sound that reflects her bemusement. “i don’t know, she’s just interesting. as soon as i met her she caught my eye, when i ran into her the first time it just… felt right?” danielle shrugs, sighing in a somewhat dreamy way. “i don’t know, i just think we could be good friends. she’s really sweet, and pretty too. i wonder if all city girls are that… ethereal.”

haerin just looks at her and narrows her eyes, then shrugs it off.

“whatever.”

–

mrs. lee gives you a day off, urging you to go out more by yourself instead of being around hyein. you hesitate when she tells you the night before, wanting nothing more than to help out with opening and share some small talk with her, but she shakes her head.

“you haven’t even gone to the beach, have you? you’re missing out… get out there. it’s prettier in the morning, you should sleep now before you miss the sunrise.”

this is how you find yourself out on a less than fifteen minute run through various neighborhoods and trails that you haven’t seen yet, and towards the sand in your vision.

the sky is still a soft gradient of dawn, with the first rays of sunlight just beginning to peek over the horizon. the sight of the sun emerging from behind the water casts a golden hue across the scene, and you can’t help but quicken your pace. your sneakers hit the sand, and you pause to slip them off, savoring the cool, grainy texture beneath your feet. you start walking down a natural trail, bordered by tufts of grass and delicate wildflowers.

the serenity of the moment, along with the gentle morning breeze, fills you with a sense of calm.

you can’t help but think that your mom and dad would love it here, with you, all of you together.

a sigh leaves your lips as you sit down on the sand, propping yourself up with your hands behind you and sitting with your feet out. you’re pretty far from where the waves crash and wet the sand, making sure you can’t get splashed.

you grab the small backpack you had brought along, it only has a waterbottle, your cd player, and headphones inside. you empty it, setting the cd player on your lap, putting on the headphones, and taking a sip of water.

jazz hums in your ear, making you smile.

yeah, your parents would love the sight.

the sun is peeking out more now, a third of it above the horizon. the rays of sun hit your face and it feels refreshing, something also clashes into you all of the sudden, making you yelp.

“jerry!” you hear from the distance.

a second later, there’s a dog licking your cheek and nuzzling itself into you, clearly excited to have run into you. you turn and catch jerry stepping back, looking at you with eager eyes and a wagging tail. you can’t help but laugh, reaching over to pet her.

“well look who it is.” you mutter softly, “miss me that much?”

jerry barks, then you catch danielle in the distance jogging up to you too. you stare a little hard at her, she’s wearing a cropped baby tee and jean shorts. her hair is being blown in her face by the wind, so she pushes a few strands behind her ear. she looks really pretty, that’s what you notice.

“i’m sorry about that,” danielle apologizes, crouching down to affectionately scratch jerry’s ears and neck. “you, mister, need to learn some manners.” she scolds playfully, giving him a pouty, angry look.

you can’t help but laugh. “hey, it’s a lovely surprise to see jerry, don’t be too harsh on him now…” you reach to pet him too, hand accidentally brushing against danielle’s – but who’s paying attention to that.

(you are.)

“it’s a surprise seeing you here, y/n.”

“same here – i mean, you know, seeing you.” you watch her sit down next to you on the sand, patting down on the sand to urge jerry to sit right in between you two. “mrs. lee gave me the day off, she recommended the beach in the morning.”

“she has a good eye.” danielle softly strokes jerry’s fur. “whatcha listening to?”

“chet baker, heard of him?”

“i have!” she nods. “i like a few of his songs.”

“really?”

“mhm, lovely voice, beautiful melodies.” she says, now looking at the rising sun. “can i listen with you?”

"oh! yeah, of course." you unplug your headphones and press the play button on the side of the device, upping the volume to let the melody fill the air.

danielle's ears twitch slightly as she lights up with recognition. "i know this one!"

"it's pretty popular. it was my mom’s favorite," you mumble, humming softly to the beginning of the song. the tune is gentle, slow, and oddly intimate, perfectly matching the mood of the moment.

"oh, i love this part," danielle mutters before starting to sing along softly, "wherever you are~ you’re near meeee~ you dare me to be untrueee."

you giggle softly, your lips curling into a smile as you watch her, bathed in the early morning sunlight and looking so genuinely happy.

turning back to face the view in the distance, you join in, "funny each time i fall in loveeee"

both of you face the sun, but as the last lyric of the verse plays, you coincidentally glance at each other and sing together,

"it’s always youuu”

laughter bubbles up between you, light and giddy, warming your hearts. there's something about danielle that makes you feel relaxed and content. you stop giggling for a moment to simply smile at her, and she mirrors your expression, both of you basking in the shared joy of the moment. you wonder how long a human can go without their heart beating or without breathing.

“danielle,” you almost whisper, gazing softly. “you have a really lovely voice.”

“aw, don’t be silly.”

“i’m not.” you roll your eyes, looking back at the sunrise. danielle continues to stare at the curve of your features.

“you’re not bad yourself.”

“that’s a lot coming from you, thank you michael buble.” you response makes danielle laugh hard, which makes you laugh even harder, the two of you are laughing like idiots in the sand as the sun comes out into full view.

danielle’s fingers run softly over the fur on jerry’s head, his blinks get slower. you look at him adoringly, petting his back.

“how long have you known him?”

“jerry?”

“who else would i be referring to…”

“harsh.” she frowns, making you scoff playfully. “a few years – since he was a puppy. we found him as a stray, he’s been in the shelter since.”

“i see. you must love him.”

“i knew him before i graduated high school.” danielle says, then looks at jerry lovingly. “he’s basically my son.”

“that’s cute.” you mumble. “you guys are really cute.”

danielle looks up at you, and for a moment, her eyes seem to sparkle. maybe it's just a trick of the light, but there's something about her gaze. she carries a natural grace, not just because she’s breathtakingly gorgeous, but because everything about her exudes warmth and ease. with danielle, there’s no room for worry or doubt. despite only knowing her for basically two days -- maybe less – she’s like someone you've known for years, even decades. she's sweet, kind, and caring; the latter.

it's hard to put into words, but there's something extraordinary about her. she’s just so...

“beautiful.” you didn’t mean to say that out loud, or continue to stare at her until the words processed in your head and you had turned away, flustered.

danielle looks at you in surprise, then laughs and tilts her head in confusion. “what?”

“sorry, nothing– the song–” clearing your throat, you point to the cd player. “it’s beautiful.”

“yeah.” danielle agrees, looking you in the eye.

–

you spend the rest of the day together, with danielle insisting, "you're so interesting," and expressing an urge "to get to know someone as cool as you more."

she leads you to her favorite café by the beach, enthusiastically offering to pay for the coconut latte, which she claims is the tastiest item on the menu. trusting her judgment, you take a sip, and the flavor lives up to her hype. danielle claps her hands and beams with delight when you give her a look and sigh of satisfaction after the first sip.

as the day progresses, she continues to show you around, her excitement palpable and infectious. her genuine enthusiasm helps you feel even more at ease in this new place. you can’t help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging, all thanks to her. it’s strange, but you don’t really dwell on it. with danielle, everything just feels right.

–

you had watched the sun rise and set with danielle, spending the entire day together, though it felt like only an hour or two had passed.

when you get back home, you flop onto your bed with a happy sigh. before you know it, someone barges into the room, then jumps and lands next to you on the bed. the mattress peaks and pushes you up with the combined force of gravity and the added weight.

you turn to see hyein looking at you with a knowing look, her brows raised and a stupid smirk on her face. "so," she begins, her tone dripping with playful curiosity, "how was your date with danielle?" she nudges you with her elbow, clearly fishing for details.

you sit up and look at her with a confused expression. “date? no, we just spent some time together.”

“haerin tells me it was from sunrise to sunset…” she nudges your shoulder playfully and you push her away. you can’t help but laugh, rolling your eyes at her antics.

"it wasn’t a date, i’ve known her for less than a week." you say. “we literally just spent the day together.”

the realization hits that you’ve never spent the day together with anyone other than your parents, even your late friends. you’ve gone hours with them and had sleepovers, but this isn’t the same.

“i bet it was a wonderful day.” hyein’s grin widens, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “seems like sunshine lady and city girl have hit it off.”

“w-what?” you snicker, laughing at the stupid nicknames. “sunshine–? city–? you’re genuinely a child. is that what you call us?”

“haerin made them up.”

you roll your eyes at hyein, who’s pushing you and asking for more details. her excitement is infectious, and you find yourself smiling even more, the memory of the day’s events replaying in your mind. danielle’s laughter, her genuine curiosity, the way she made everything feel so effortlessly right. as hyein continues to tease and prod for more details, you realize just how special this day has been.

danielle made time feel like nothing, which is a bit dangerous considering you don’t have a lot of time to begin with.

she had shared a lot of her likes, dislikes, life stories, and so much yet so little. you wanted to know more, you wanted her to ramble your ear off.

something that had caught your attention was the brief mention that she lived with haerin because her parents had passed away a few years ago. it brought some sorrow to you just from learning that, but some ease because she’s similar to you.

you briefly go over everything, and lastly you tell the younger girl beside you that danielle had given you her number, making hyein squeal.

“you have mo dani’s number?”

“mo dani?”

“nickname… you’ll know later – probably. you’re still new, but everyone knows the majority of her nicknames, she has a lot– ah! that’s not important. anyways–”

you chuckle at hyein shaking your head as you pull out your phone to show her your new lockscreen. it’s a picture of you and jerry down at the beach, one danielle had taken because she thought you two had looked adorable. the moment made you all nervous and blushy, but you don’t tell hyein that.

“i just wanted her to send this picture, isn’t he cute?”

“he’s adorable! oh my gosh let me tell you this funny story…” hyein starts, and you smile to yourself knowing that you’ve managed to change the subject. you don’t know how much teasing you can take from the menace in front of you.

–

you put an effort to visit danielle at least a few times a week after work and helping hyein out with assignments.

danielle is always happy to see you and converse while assisting her patients, you even help out with cleaning the instruments and area despite her trying to stop you. she insists it’s okay, but you’re willing to shut her down just to help.

hyein and haerin have a field day with you two everytime you’re together within their radius. they catch you two conversing, you staring at the patients – but mostly the woman helping them out – while danielle treats them, and the playful bickering and time spent together.

“they’re so cute… if only y/n wasn’t a loser.” hyein sighs, peeking at you two as you play with jerry.

“if only danielle could come to her senses.” haerin mumbles.

in return, danielle does her best to become a regular at lee’s kitchen. she’s there every other day — sometimes she’s they’re consecutively — for breakfast or even during her lunch break, though usually in the mornings because the restaurant is a bit of a walk from the shelter.

both of you spend time eating together because mrs. lee is generous, which makes you wonder if hyein had convinced her to let you slack off.

you find out that danielle has a weird, but cute obsession with carrots. each side she orders gets bigger, and she even ends up getting double the sides to the point that the amount of carrots she’s eating is more than the actual dish she orders. you marvel at this, even sending her off to work with a container of sliced carrots or giving her some each time you see her.

–

the library is a thirty minute walk from where you stay, haerin had recommended it to you because she assumed you’re “the type of person to spend time in a library for hours – willingly.” you didn’t know whether that was a compliment or not.

it’s been over three months in the town, you’ve made friends and grown quite fond of a special, bubbly girl – but you’ve never stepped foot in the library somehow.

walking in, you’re greeted by someone around your age, maybe a little older. she’s a girl with long dark hair, straighter than danielle’s. she’s wearing a button-up shirt and long linen pants, black frames sitting on her nose bridge.

“hi, welcome–” she pauses, looking at you closely. “–you’re… are you y/n? ah, i’ve been wanting to meet you.”

“oh, yeah. how did you–”

“danielle.” right, danielle, because it’s very normal and totally not making you overthink and flush at the thought of her talking about you to others. “she mentions you a lot, showed us a picture of you and jerry.”

“us?”

“me and our other friend hanni, she’s out and about right now though. anyways, would love to talk more, but there’s lots to do. everything is sorted out by genre, but if you need a certain book, you can look it up on the database and use the numbers to help you out,” she explains. her voice is very smooth, and she speaks with casual ease.

you nod, appreciating the information while trying to process the fact that danielle has been talking about you.

as you wander through the shelves, you can’t help but smile at the thought of her sharing your picture with her friends. however, you’re also a bit embarrassed because she has a lot of questionable pictures of you, ones you don’t look the best in. the warmth in your cheeks persists, but it’s a comforting kind of warmth, one that makes you feel a little valued.

your fingers graze each book, you’re just browsing around without thinking much of it.

past a few bookshelves there’s a small corner where light seeps in through a big window, and it gives a good view of the buildings across from the library. you notice a small book on the ground, narrowing your eyes at it and walking over to pick it up.

‘timestamps and twinflames’ the title is intriguing, so you find the nearest stool and open the book up.

the first page goes over the background of the book, something about a survey and observed data with various pairs that have a different relation and relationship to each other. it states that it’s a collection of family members, friends, and couples.

“a twin flame is a concept in spiritual and metaphysical beliefs that refers to an intense soul connection with someone thought to be a person's other half. it is often described as a deep, powerful bond that goes beyond physical attraction and emotional compatibility.

in this book, we’ve found puzzles with only two pieces, brought the pieces together, and found out their unique traits and connections.

along with this, we’ve noticed a trend with their date of death’s tattooed on them, including the time and placement.”

as you read through, everything reminds you of your parents.

“people run into each other for a reason, everyone’s interactions aren’t coincidences, they’re fate. not just death is calculated by the universe, but opportunities and decisions are influenced by it too in order for individuals to meet their ‘twin flame.’

3% of the worlds population – that have been reported and known – have met their twin flame. most of the time it’s romantic, however platonic twin flames exist as well. many of the reports have been of romantic partners, who fit seamlessly and complement each other well.

the chances of meeting one’s twin flame is very low, and individuals only have one twin flame. some people have twin flames from across the world, so it simply cannot happen. however, there are theories that twin flames meet in other universes, and it’s often depicted in media and literature. it’s not possible to find out if this theory is true, unfortunately.

twin flames always have the same timestamp of death, there are no exceptions to this – we’ve concluded.”

you’re deep into the book, absorbing every word. the information you've just read resonates a little too well with your parents' story. you never realized there was an entire study dedicated to this phenomenon. you had always considered your parents' meeting, falling in love, and the serendipitous timing of their lives as just a beautiful coincidence, nothing more. it was something out of a movie that you had always found crazy. but now, you see them as more than a mere coincidence; they’re a pair meticulously chosen and brought together by the universe itself – the universe.

"most individuals report similar experiences upon first meeting their twin flame. regardless of age–from adolescents to the elderly–the accounts share strikingly consistent themes:

when twin flames meet, there's an immediate sense of familiarity, as if they've known each other before, despite never having met. this uncanny recognition often comes with a profound feeling that something has clicked into place, filling a void they never knew existed.

many describe a peculiar sensation coursing through their bodies, a blend of exhilaration and tranquility, as if time has momentarily stopped. in that instant, everything becomes more comprehensible, and the world seems to align in a way that it never has before."

“hm.” you look at the page, your fingers running along each word as you read.

you felt a “peculiar sensation” and “exhilaration and tranquility” when you met danielle. you shake your head – it can’t be, that’s ridiculous. you don’t even have enough time to live and fulfill your time with a twin flame, why would the universe throw one at you?

the question doesn’t stop you from considering that it could be true, but maybe you’re just searching for something to make your last few months more meaningful. it’s a 3 percent chance of meeting your twin flame, and your record of being lucky isn’t the best.

(plus, your parents probably took all that luck away from you, it can’t possibly happen two generations in a row.

it doesn’t stop you from thinking that if danielle were your twin flame, you wouldn’t be opposed to it.

you’d love it.)

and just as if the universe had alerted danielle you had thought of her, you feel your phone buzz in your pocket. you reach down to pull it out, looking at the notification from her.

[danielle]

hi!

i just got off work :-)

are you busy?

i was wondering if you wanted to grab smoothies by the beach?

if you’re not busy of course…

you smile, unlocking your phone and responding immediately.

[y/n]

i’m not busy at all!

i was just reading at the library

i met your friend minji

i’ll meet you down at the beach? down by the cafe

[danielle]

yay!

that sounds perfect y/n-ie ;-)

can’t wait to see you! tell me about minji when we’re together

also, jerry won’t be joining us :-( he’s a very sleepy boy today

–

danielle arrives a little later than you, you take the time to buy her a smoothie while you had waited. one lychee smoothie for you, and a mango one for her – she had mentioned how much she liked mangos, and you made sure to ask for an extra carrot in the smoothie, earning a weird look from the worker.

you sit down outside on the steps, staring out at the beach until someone creeps from behind.

“hey!” danielle greets, putting both hands on your shoulders. you turn to look at her, rolling your eyes.

“you scared the life out of me.”

“that was the plan~” she sings, putting her hand out for you to take, urging you up. “you bought the smoothies already?”

“mhm, there’s a carrot in yours too, thought you’d like it.” the way her lips curve even more answers that remark. “let’s find a spot.” you insist.

she softens her gaze before nodding, you feel your heart pound against your chest

a tank top hugs her frame perfectly, its floral pattern complementing the dark linen shorts she wears. her sandals help her walk on the sand with ease as you both stroll along the beach. her hand is still intertwined with yours, and you feel your breath hitch when her grip tightens.

“so, how was your day?” she asks.

it’s a routine, you and danielle meeting up just because you two simply enjoy being around each other. she always asks you first, you rarely beat her to the chase.

“normal as always.”

“oh come onnn, tell me about everything.”

“it was just the usual dani.” you state, sipping on your smoothie. “we had breakfast and then um… oh, haerin’s mom came over and said hi. uhhh hyein didn’t have any homework so i went to the library, i think she’s hanging out with iroha or something. i met your friend minji, she tells me that my name is in your mouth…” you look at her with raised brows, expecting an answer.

“i– you know…” she looks down at the ground, kicking the sand. “we spend a lot of time together – i like spending time with you. of course i’m going to tell my friends about you silly… anyways, what did you do at the library? did you hang with minji?”

shaking your head, you respond, “no, she was busy. i read this book though, almost two hours passed… i was so into it.”

“what a lovely book… you have to show it to me sometime! we can even visit minji together!”

you grin at the thought, you’d do anything if she were there with you.

“yeah, that would be great. also, the book kind of had me thinking…” you stop in your place, looking at her.

danielle stops too, then looks at you with a tilted head. “yeah?”

“do you think soulmates– well, something more than that.”

“like what?”

“twin flames.” you mutter, then turn to look at the sea. “do you think they’re real?”

her features deepen with skepticism. “what?”

“like, i don’t know. i was reading the book and it was talking about people who were like, perfect for each other. you know how everyone has a destined death date? the book was talking about how everyone also has a destined person.” you explain, then lead her over to a nearby bench.

she sits down next to you, thinking to herself. “i’ve only seen that in movies, do you think they’re real?”

“i think my parents were twin flames.”

“is that so…”

“yeah, “ you mumble, taking a sip of your smoothie. “i told you that they had the same date of death right? well the book was saying that twin flames are like that. and plus, everything in the book i read resonated with them. i think they’re real.”

danielle, stares at you for a moment. you’re leaned against the bench and staring closely at the ocean.

“i think that’s a beautiful concept.”

“yeah,” you look at her again. “it’s wonderful.”

you two go silent, then you ask her how her day was to clear the strange tension in the air. your upper rib stings a bit – right where your mark is – but you ignore it as danielle tells you about a patient she had to calm down, a small kitten that had scratched her.

she ends up scooting a little closer, her shoulder touching yours until she’s leaning against you.

your mark stings again until you put your arm around her, keeping her close.

–

later, when the sun is setting, both of you stand by the wet part of the sand. the waves crash onto it, wetting your feet in the process.

danielle kicks some water towards you, it splashes against your lower legs, making you groan. you splash water towards her, hitting so aggressively that water splashes above her knee and hits the edge of her shorts.

“oh it’s so on.” she says, running towards you. you start to rush away, but she manages to splash you right on the back of your thigh, making you yelp.

“hey!”

“payback!”

“you started it!”

both of you end up kicking more water at each other, shouting and laughing in the process. she runs away to tie her hair up, then rushes back and leaps onto you, grabbing hold of your arm. she pulls you deeper into the water, which rises from your ankles to your knees.

“hey, wait–”

“scared of the water?” danielle snickers, her playful brown eyes sparkling and her teeth glowing in a wide smile.

you groan, shaking your head. “oh, shut up.”

the whole ordeal escalates as she uses her hands to splash water onto you, soaking your shorts and the bottom part of your oversized t-shirt. you scowl at her, then grab her arm and push her down into the water. her surprised laugh turns into a delighted squeal as she tumbles into the waves. she pulls you down with her and now both of you drenched but grinning from ear to ear.

you lift yourself out of the water, shaking your head and splashing her with droplets flying from your hair.

“now we’re even,” danielle says, wiping water off her face.

“absolutely not.”

you splash her again, and she yelps, then laughs. she stands up and backs away from you. you're watching her happily, then something makes you pause. her white tank top, now soaked, clings to her skin, and you catch a glimpse of ink on her rib, the same area as your own tattoo but on the opposite side; instead, it’s on her left.

before you can process it, she interrupts your thoughts with another splash. you close your eyes and spit out the salty water, groaning before you tackle her.

you two emerge from the water and stand up, facing each other and both wiping off the salty water from your faces. you use your hand to slick your hair back, then push away a chunk of hair that clings to danielle’s cheek.

“you’re soaked.” you chuckle through a grin.

“and who’s fault is that?” she questions sarcastically.

you shrug. “technically yours.”

she rolls her eyes at you, then does the unexpected.

her eyes dart to your lips for a moment before she cups your cheek gently with one hand. your gaze shifts to meet hers as she steps closer, maintaining eye contact.

“you look so cute right now…” she murmurs, brushing her thumb against the edge of your bottom lip. “can i?”

your stomach tightens, and your heart feels like it's being squeezed as if it were one of the pet toys danielle uses to calm her patients down. unable to form a coherent response, you nod and hum, “mhm.”

danielle smiles softly, and suddenly, everything feels right. she wraps her arms around your neck, leaning in and tilting her head. you close your eyes, feeling her lips press against yours.

it's a little salty, a given considering you’ve both been fighting in the ocean. but still, it’s warm and wonderful, and you feel like you might melt until you’re one with the water beneath you. she pulls back for a second, her eyes still closed and her lips ghosting over yours. then she kisses you again, and it feels like you've been hit by a tidal wave.

your hands move to her waist, pushing her closer.

she pulls away and looks at you, your faces a few inches apart.

“i like you a lot y/n.” she confesses, playing with a strand of your wet hair. “i really do.”

it hasn’t really hit you in the past, you never thought about it that hard. being around danielle made you giddy and carefree, plus she’s the prettiest woman you’ve ever seen, you’ve thought that since you first laid eyes on her. you don’t need a second to think or clarify in your mind that–

“me too.” you practically breathe out, looking at her lovingly.

“i’m glad.” she says, then kisses you again. your hand brushes against her tattoo without you knowing and she shivers, pulling away. “it’s kind of cold, and late.” she mumbles, “we should head back–”

you cut her off with another kiss, then part with a smile.

“yeah.”

–

hyein is wiping the tables, then hears the bell jingle. “we’re closed! come back tomorrow!” she says nicely without looking up.

“it’s me.” you say quietly.

she looks up, brows furrowing when she looks at your wet shirt and damp hair. “what happened to you?” she asks, “my god, wait here, let me get a towel.”

when she’s back with a gray towel in her hand, you put it around you and sigh happily, leaning against the wall. hyein looks at you with a weird expression, almost like you’re an idiot.

“what’s up with you?”

“i just kissed dani.” you say it like it’s unbelievable, maybe because it isn;t. “hyein i just kissed danielle marsh.”

hyein’s jaw drops, she walks over to you and puts her hands on your shoulder, shaking you. “did you really?” she questions, baffled. “don’t mess around with me!”

“i’m not.” you sigh, smiling to yourself. “i’m gonna shower.”

she groans, “hey! don’t just–”

you walk away from her, smiling the whole way through and making her groan again.

–

haerin opens the door to a soaked danielle. her tank top is still sticking to her skin and her hair is still wet, but there’s a smile on her face that’s way brighter than usual.

“why are you wet?” haerin asks, letting her inside. “why didn’t you bring swimwear.”

“i just kissed y/n.” danielle giggles, “i just kissed–” she puts a hand on haerin’s shoulder. “--y/n.”

haerin looks at her with absolute shock evident on her face. “you what.”

“oh my god it was so perfect and even better than the movies it was so unreal and–”

“you what?!” haerin’s jaw drops, she’s more than overwhelmed.

–

danielle greets you in the morning with a kiss on the cheek before sitting down to have breakfast with you. she looks at you much more lovingly now, since her feelings are clear to you. you smile shyly when she does it.

you lead her out of the restaurant, gently playing with her fingers as you both stand outside. small promises of seeing each other later are exchanged, and when danielle pouts, you reassure her that being apart for a few hours isn't the end of the world. to emphasize your point, you quickly peck her lips, earning a bright smile in return.

reluctantly, she lets go of your hand and waves before starting to walk away. suddenly, she rushes back to give you one more kiss, then dashes off to make her way to work.

danielle thinks of you the whole way to work, a small smile on her lips forms and doesn’t leave.

haerin is turning on the laptops at the front desk when she hears a bright and eager “good morning!” after the door swings open. the younger girl rolls her eyes, waving at danielle.

“someones happy.”

“how could i not be? guess who i just saw–”

“y/n,” haerin groans, but grins after. “we get it, you’re in love.”

“she gave me some extra carrots, and also a small bag of cherry tomatoes~”

haerin perks up, immediately walking over to danielle and tilting her head. danielle laughs, then fishes out a ziplock bag with ten or twelve little tomatoes inside, making haerin smile happily. she picks one out, plopping it into her mouth and chewing with a satisfied look on her face.

“tell your girlfriend i said thanks.”

danielle pulls out her phone, then snaps a picture of the happy haerin in front of her. haerin looks confused, then whines when she’s shown the picture.

“aw, look at you!” danielle giggles, zooming in on haerin’s stuffed cheek. “you look like a child.”

“shut up.”

“i’ll show y/n this, she’ll pack more next time.”

haerin pouts, then turns around smiling at the thought of more snacks for her.

–

you spend the next month hanging out with danielle whenever you can – she’s your girlfriend after all the fact that she’s all yours, it makes you giddy.

you two go on a variety of dates, spend time in danielle’s room looking at her old photos and trinkets, swim at the beach, take jerry out, accompanying her at work – anything really, because anything satisfies the two of you as long as you have each other.

this time you’re in danielle’s room again, laid on her bed side ways and propping yourself up with one elbow and your face in your hands. she’s talking about a dog she had treated at work, some shih tzu who had a temper tantrum and wouldn’t stop barking at her.

you look at her with stars in your eyes, nodding and humming along to her rambling. she’s sitting crissed cross in front of you, drying her hair with a towel and frowning at the mention that the shih tzu almost bit her.

“i’m sorry that happened dani.” you reach over to place a hand on her knee, rubbing it softly. “you dont deserve the hostility.”

“i know… ugh, anyway.” she leans over and presses a kiss on your forehead. “you should shower, use my towel.”

“okay okay.” you murmur, sitting up and leaning over to kiss her lips. you pull away and linger for a bit before asking, “haerin is alright with me staying over, right?”

“yeah, you’ve been feeding her tomato obsession, of course she is.”

you giggle, then get off the bed. “i’ll be quick.”

“okay love.” danielle says, smiling at you.

you walk down the hall and towards the bathroom with your pajamas – a t-shirt and shorts – then lock yourself inside. you smile thinking of danielle, thinking that this is the first time you’ve ever spent the night with someone you’ve liked romantically.

you look at the mirror in front of you and start to strip, taking off your shirt. you pause for a moment when you catch sight of the tattoo on your rib. it's been a while since you acknowledged it. running a finger over it, you shiver, then read the text. your eyes widen as the realization hits—you have less than three months until your time is up.

a wave of suffocation overwhelms you. you've just formed various bonds that have made you the happiest you have been since your parents passed. hyein feels like a sister to you. mrs. lee is one of the most generous and hardworking people you know—you'd spend hours and hours overtime for her if she asked. and then there's haerin, who you've built a solid friendship with and can joke around with effortlessly.

the weight of it all presses down on you, making it hard to breathe.

worst of all, you and danielle are together now.

you've never felt so strongly for someone, anyone. sure, you loved your parents deeply and felt your heart being ripped up into shreds when they died that night, but this—this is different.

something about danielle made you forget about the whole ‘destined death’ thing. she eased your worries and stopped your mind from spinning. she grounded you so your feet stayed down on earth instead of floating away into the space of your sorrow, and you’d bring the moon down for her on the way if she asked.

now, with less than three months left, it's all going to end. you'll lose everything and everyone you’ve built up in this town. how dumb could you be? thinking this was some stupid last resort, without considering the harm you’d cause. you'll leave everyone feeling as you did before—lost and alone. you're selfish, you're terrible. that’s all that runs in your mind.

it feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, or that you’ve stood up too quickly. you grip the sides of the sink for support, breathing shakily as you stare at your reflection. the room seems to close in around you as the weight of your situation presses down, making it hard to breathe.

–

danielle has been on her phone for over thirty minutes, her eyes drifting repeatedly to the closed door, worry etched across her face. just as she considers checking on you, the door opens, and you emerge in your pajamas with wet hair. the sight of danielle's face lighting up with happiness and relief eases you instantly, as if you hadn’t just spiraled in the bathroom moments before.

her smile is a balm to your frayed nerves, and the tension in your chest loosens. you take a deep breath, grateful for the small comfort of her presence. danielle sets her phone aside and moves towards you, her concern evident.

"everything okay?" she asks softly, her eyes searching yours.

you nod, forcing a smile. "yeah."

she pulls you into a gentle hug, and you allow yourself to relax in her embrace, letting the warmth of her affection wash over you. in that moment, everything feels a little more bearable, and you cling to that feeling, hoping it can carry you until you perish.

“you took long.” danielle teases. “missed you.”

“was it that long?”

“no…” danielle mutters, putting her arms around your neck. “but i started to worry.” she adds, pouting a bit.

“i’m sorry, i was just… zoning out.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” you say, then tilt your head a bit.

danielle plays with your hair, her fingers massaging your scalp as she gazes at you lovingly. she gently rubs her thumb over your flushed skin, finding you utterly adorable. your face is warm from the hot shower, and she tiptoes to kiss you, smiling into it and humming, satisfied.

both of you stay close in that moment, lips pressing together, parting, and then reuniting. it's soft and sweet, with danielle's fingers threading through your hair and your own hand subtly tracing along her waistline.

when she finally pulls away, she bites the inside of her lip, looking at you with a fond smile. "hey… close the door?"

"hm? okay." you comply, stepping back just enough to push the door closed with your fingers.

as the door clicks shut, danielle pulls you by the wrist, her lips crashing against yours. you gasp in surprise but quickly reciprocate, eager and fervent. her hands glide up and down the base of your neck, applying just enough pressure to rile you up—successfully so.

your hand rests above her waist, and you pull her closer, bodies pressing together as your lips savor each other like you're both famished. danielle bites your bottom lip lightly, making you groan softly and part your lips.

"dani—" you breathe out, your fingers grasping at her shirt.

she moves down to your jawline, leaving a trail of soft pecks that lead to your neck. her kisses are light, making you sigh as you shift yourselves toward her bed. you slowly maneuver yourself on top of her, your movements synchronized and unhurried, savoring every touch and kiss.

“y-you’re really eager, aren’t you?”

“i can’t help it…” she says into your skin. “you’re just so…”

she finishes attacking your neck and pulls away to meet your flustered face, smiling as she rubs your cheeks with both thumbs. the searing heat on your cheeks warms up her own skin.

“...adorable.” danielle mutters.

“...whatever.”

your hands rest at her waist, fingers fiddling with the edge of her shirt. you look at her, silently asking, ‘is this okay?’ her response is to gently push your hand under her shirt, guiding your fingers to brush against her warm skin. the contact makes her bite her lip, a small sigh escaping her.

slowly, you slide your hand upwards, feeling the smooth curve of her side until your fingers rest just above her ribs. as your touch hovers over the ink on her skin, she gasps softly, the sound barely audible but full of emotion.

you pause for a moment, looking into her eyes, and see nothing but trust and desire. encouraged, you let your fingers trace the outline of her tattoo, feeling her shiver beneath your touch. her breathing quickens, and she closes her eyes, lost in the sensation.

danielle's hands find their way to your shoulders, pulling you closer. your lips meet again, more urgently this time, as if the world outside has ceased to exist.

you begin to pepper kisses along her jawline and neck, mimicking her earlier actions. danielle giggles as you do so, her hands moving through your hair. the previous intensity between you shifts to a more playful intimacy. you kiss her repeatedly, nipping at her skin and nudging your nose against her, eliciting another small laugh and a gentle tug at your hair.

the moment is lighthearted and warm until a knock at the bedroom door startles both of you. you practically jump off her, your cheeks burning with a mix of surprise and embarrassment. danielle clears her throat, quickly fixing her hair before getting up to answer the door.

"j-just a second," she calls out, giving you a reassuring smile before opening the door to see who it is. she clears her throat, answering, “yes?” and patting herself down before she opens the door to meet haerin. “oh, hey.”

“can we talk?” haerin says a bit seriously, making danielle look at her closely.

again, danielle clears her throat before turning to you. you’re avoiding any eye contact with haerin, simply shooting a thumbs up and running a hand through your hair to fix it up.

“yeah, of course.” she closes the door behind her, looking at haerin with a concerned expression. haerin looks worried, even looking at danielle with some type of pity and sadness. “is everything okay?”

“danielle, we… need to talk about– you know.” haerin mutters, pointing bashfully at danielle’s upper rib. “yeah.”

danielle tilts her head and her eyes flicker with confusion before she understands.

“oh.”

“i checked the date today,” haerin starts, looking at the ground. “you have little time, don’t you?”

“haerin, don’t worry about it.”

“it’s not just me. does y/n even know? i don’t even know when exactly, but that fact that i can predict the time is enough for me to worry. and what will you do? you and y/n? you’re going to–” haerin gulps, clenching her jaw as she tries to compose herself. tears well up in her eyes as she continues, “you’re going to be gone and… y/n doesn’t know.”

danielle looks at haerin with tears forming in her eyes as well. her bottom lip twitches looking at the younger girl before she speaks, “because i made the mistake of even hinting it, okay? look at you, and i bet minji, hanni, and hyein are stressed by it. it’s– look. i’ve been doing a great job at getting past it, okay? just… let me live the most i can.” danielle huffs, blinking and a tear falls. “i don’t have the most time anyway, not all of us are lucky enough to live past thirty.”

“dani–” haerin begins, but danielle just shakes her head, wiping her tear away.

"stop, just stop. i don’t want to think about it." it’s selfish, danielle knows it, but something about you makes her realize how much she’s missed out on in life. loving you is something she experienced late, yet it's the best thing that’s ever happened to her. from the moment she first laid eyes on you, something clicked.

an inexplicable urge pushed her to have breakfast with you that first time. then, she needed to see you again and again until her heart felt content and the burden of her tattoo faded away. you gave her clarity, a peace of mind she hadn’t known before. of course spending time with her friends and whatnot gave her some moments that were stress free, but she always came back home, laid in bed, and thought about her fate. however the more time she spent with you, the more the weight of her worries lifted, replaced by the lightness of your presence until it was like the whole tattoo thing didn’t exist or matter.

danielle feels a sense of urgency and desperation, knowing how fleeting these moments could be. but for now, with you by her side, everything feels right. it almost feels like you can be the one to break the whole ‘curse.’

(it’s nothing like that, just unlucky fate that danielle can’t seem to accept.)

“i’m going to go spend time with y/n.” danielle says after clearing her throat. haerin looks at her, mouth slightly open and tears practically spilling out her waterline.

–

you lay in bed with a hand on your tattoo and staring up at the ceiling. the door opens and you sit up eagerly, meeting danielle with slightly watered eyes and a tinted pink nose.

“sorry about that…” she says shyly, her lips pursing in to a smile. “haerin and i had a little um, talk.”

“are you okay?” she steps close enough for you to put a hand on her cheek and feel the moisture from the remnants of tears. “were you crying?”

“it’s nothing,” she assures, turning to kiss your hand.

she moves to turn off the lamp on the bedside table before laying down next to you and scooting up so her head is on your shoulder. your arm finds it’s away around to push her closer and she snuggles into you. you make a move to kiss her forehead, hearing a soft hum when you keep your lips on her skin.

“hey, y/n?”

“yeah?”

“what would you do if you had little time to live?” you fall silent from her question, feeling your throat tighten up.

danielle feels a hand in her hair, your finger twirls a strand of it. “what’s with the question?”

“i’m just curious.”

“well,” you start, moving over so you can turn on your side and face your grilfriend fully. “i’d move to the beach,” you put a hand on her cheek, tracing patterns onto her skin. “and find my way from there.”

“really?”

“yeah.” you nod. “my parents died at the beach actually. they thought they could beat their fate if they were the happiest people on earth.” your voice gets softer and danielle focuses on your features closely. “they didn’t beat it, but they were still the happiest people until their fate. i’d like to be like that.”

“are you happy?” danielle asks, holding your hand tightly.

“of course i am.” your hand moves down to danielle’s shoulder and your palm rubs against it. “i think i’ve been the happiest i’ve ever been just after knowing you exist.”

“maybe i am your twin flame.” danielle jokes.

“maybe.” there’s only one way to know that, but you can’t ask to see danielle’s tattoo, because then she’d ask for yours and you couldn’t possibly show someone as lucky as her your destined date. “what would you do if you had little time?”

danielle wants to confess everything—the limited time she has left, the emotions eating her up since she found out she wouldn’t even make it to twenty. she wants to spill her heart, to tell you how she had planned to keep everyone she knew close and spend all the time she could with them. but now, all she wants is to be with you until fate decides her time is up.

but danielle doesn’t say any of that.

instead, she cups your cheek, her thumb brushing against your soft skin with tender care. she leans in, her breath warm against your face, and gently kisses your nose before scooting into your arms.

“i don’t know, maybe spend time with you a little more.”

–

time is running out, and you’re the only one who knows.

it’s less than three weeks until you’re gone, until you’re nothing but a body and a silent heart.

(unless something brutal happens to you, then you wouldn’t be just a body – you really hope you won’t be fated to some horror movie ending.)

you've been making a boatload of excuses, claiming you're too busy to head over to the shelter or too sick. you've even found ways to dodge dates and quality time with danielle, sometimes by mentioning hyein. and tutoring hyein is a whole other story, it’s become another casualty of your avoidance tactics, with frequent claims of not feeling well or having headaches—anything to stay cooped up in your room or sulking by the beach. you hate doing this, but you convince yourself it’ll make the inevitable separation less painful; everyone will thank you sooner or later.

in this time, you’ve burned yourself on the wok more than usual, two or three times in one workday. each time, mrs. lee hears you curse loudly. she sits you down repeatedly, her concerned eyes searching yours, asking if everything is alright. each time, you give her a shaky breath and a feeble shake of your head, unable to muster more than that.

your heart feels heavy with every excuse, every lie, and every burn. you hope that distancing yourself now will make the eventual farewell easier, but the weight of your decision only grows heavier. mrs. lee’s concern, danielle’s confusion, and hyein’s disappointment haunt you, but you push through, believing it’s for the best.

when you burn yourself three times and cut your index finger once, mrs. lee grabs you and sits you down right in the living room after work. she doesn’t bat an eye at hyein, who walks in on the scene of her grandmother standing across from you with her arms crossed, her expression a mix of anger and concern. instead, mrs. lee sends hyein to her room. surprisingly, hyein doesn’t talk back. she looks at you with worry, then slowly moves herself up the stairs and down the hallway to her room.

you lean against the counter behind you, gripping it tightly. the bandaid on your finger loosens.

"are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or are you going to keep bottling it up?" mrs. lee's voice is firm but gentle.

"nothing is wrong," you respond, your voice flat and unconvincing.

mrs. lee's eyes narrow slightly, her concern deepening. "don’t lie to me. i’ve seen you struggling. you’ve been out of it and now you’re hurting yourself more. i know you, you can handle cooking the hot dishes in your sleep, so what is wrong?”

your grip on the counter tightens as you avoid her gaze. "i’m fine. really."

she steps closer, her voice softening. "i care about you. whatever it is, you don’t have to go through it alone. did you and danielle break up? is that what this is?”

“n-no, no. thank god no.” you feel a lump forming in your throat, but you stubbornly shake your head. "i just... i can’t talk about it."

mrs. lee sighs, her frustration evident, “no, i’m not letting you just–”

“i have less than three weeks to live.” you choke out, looking down at the ground and feeling your body go weak. the counter holds you up.

mrs. lee looks at you, utterly shocked. “what?”

“that’s it. i don’t have much time.” tears blur your vision as you look back at her, and mrs. lee looks at you with all kinds of emotion.

“are you serious?” she asks, and you nod, lifting up your shirt so that the ink on your upper rib is visible. you accidentally sob, tears falling down your cheek as mrs. lee reads the date.

you close your eyes and turn away, unable to even look at her. a few seconds later you feel arms around your body, like someone is hugging you, and open your eyes to see her hair. she’s hugging you tight, rubbing your back comfortingly.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry i didn’t tell you, i’m sorry i just—”

“dear, no, no. it’s okay, it’s alright. everything is okay.”

“is it?” you ask in between a sob. “i’m so selfish…”

“everyone is when it comes to this.” she says, then turns to look at your clearly. she wipes away your tears, then places her hands on your shoulder. “my best cook has to retire soon…”

you giggle softly, her attempt at easing the tension working. “i’m sorry.”

“it’s okay, it will all be alright.”

she hugs you again, and then you hear another sob coming from where the stairs are. hyein stands on the steps, holding the wooden railing with her hand covering her mouth and her eyes widened in disbelief.

“y/n,” hyein’s voice is shaky. “you’re dying soon?”

“hyein you weren’t supposed to–”

“are you really?”

you purse your lips and break away from her grandma, walking over to hug her. she hugs you back and sobs into you, her voice muffled into your shirt. i’m sorry.” you murmur, rubbing her back. “i’m really sorry, i’m so so sorry–”

“you idiot…” hyein mumbles. “is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“i’m sorry… i just didn’t want you to miss me.”

she parts from you and punches your shoulder, then wipes away her tears and sniffles. “i’d kill you for dying just like that, now we have to spend as much time we can.”

mrs. lee nods, looking at the two of you. “i’m firing you, you need to spend the most time you can.”

“hey wait– i really like this cooking gig, please don’t do that.”

“fine, two week notice.”

you manage to giggle even in the pressure of the moment, feeling the weight of your fate pushing down on you.

“okay, okay.”

hyein starts again, asking you with a concerned face, “and what about haerin? and especially your girlfriend?”

“i–” you lower your head. “i don’t want them to pity me, i just want to spend time with them normally. can you be the one to apologize for me?”

“wow y/n… you’re a terrible person.” hyein mumbles, her eyes starting to water again.

“i know, i’m sorry.”

she punches your shoulder again before hugging you. “i’m kidding. there’s nothing we can do, just promise me you’ll spend more time? no more saying you’re sick? maybe i’ll–” she sniffles, “--believe it on the last day if you say it though.”

you sob a little before hugging her tightly, humming in response. mrs. lee joins in and your arms wrap around both of them, all of you shedding tears.

–

haerin and danielle sit with jerry, who’s blinking slow and laying on the counter. danielle looks at him fondly, petting his fur.

“i don’t think he has much time left.” danielle informs, rubbing by his ears.

it’s ironic and almost perfect, danielle and (practically) her own dog dying soon.

haerin frowns, looking between the two.

“will you be okay?”

danielle smiles sadly, petting under his mouth. “we’ll meet again.”

haerin hums in response, petting jerry as well. “will we?” she asks suddenly, practically under her breath.

the younger girl feels an arm around her pulling her into a side hug. haerin gulps, hugging danielle tight.

“of course.”

silence follows as the three of them sit there together, no one says anything, jerry shuffles into danielle’s hand more, and all of them try to bear the fate that waits for them. haerin pulls away, looking at danielle with watery eyes.

“will you ever tell y/n? you know, that it’s soon?”

danielle shakes her head, then softly says, “i can’t put that weight on her. if i’m going to spend time with the love of my life, i want every moment to be happy from now on.” then danielle puts her hand on haerin’s shoulder, squeezing it tight. “and you don’t need to worry about me, okay? let’s spend time being happy.”

haerin doesn’t know what she’ll do without danielle, she doesn’t know what anyone in the town could do. if the sun had ceased to exist, their little town would still be radiant and lively just because danielle had been around.

–

hyein and haerin eat lunch by the arcade they always go to. the sun is shining down on them, making haerin sweat along her hairline and hyein fan herself with a plastic plate.

you’re gone in a week, and hyein is doing anything she can to prepare for it. she tries to keep herself happy and uplifted by going out with haerin, but it seems like haerin is dealing with her own thing. she’s usually quiet, but right now she’s dead silent, poking at her rice bowl.

“is everything oka–” hyein pauses when she watches haerin put her face in her hands, rubbing her face and groaning as her shoulders tense up. “what happened?” hyein questions, eyes widening.

“i hate these goddamn tattoos.”

“you don’t die for another like, thirty years haerin.”

“it’s not me.”

“who?”

haerin purses her lips and looks up at hyein, who’s gazing at her worriedly. haerin shakes her head, then sighs out, “danielle.”

“you told me before, is it that soon? already?” hyein starts to panic, not only are you done for soon, but even mo dani.

“she won’t tell me the exact date, i think in a week or two or–” haerin groans, putting her head down on the table. “--i don’t know! it’s just, i… i don’t know what to do.”

hyein bites the inside of her lip and pats haerin’s head, then says, “i know how you feel.”

she hears the older girl scoff lightly, “right.”

“y/n.”

haerin lifts her head up and looks at hyein intensely, then looks at her baffled. “what?” she practically chokes out, “y/n?”

“i shouldn’t tell you, but… her and danielle, it’s heartbreaking just thinking about it.”

“hey hey,” haerin snaps her fingers twice at hyein, “y/n is dying soon? are you serious?”

“in a week – less than i think.”

haerin sits there and processes all the information she’s just received before responding again, “should we tell them?” haerin asks, then stops to rethink. “actually, let’s not.”

“what?” hyein looks at her like she’s an idiot. “why not?”

“just let them be, the mention of death might make things worse for them. have you seen them, it’s like they were made for each other. what if y/n dies before dani? or the other way around? just let it be.”

hyein contemplates, staring at haerin worriedly again.

“fine,” the younger one sighs, “okay.”

–

you have a little over forty-eight hours until your time is up. you've spent every waking moment with those you care about, keeping your routine largely unchanged.

you still help hyein after school, hanging out with her at the little comic and antique store whenever you have time. the two of you take as many pictures as you can with her grandpa's old film camera, creating memories that will last. hyein wants to keep a piece of you with her always, something to look back on when she misses you. sometimes, haerin joins you, even coming over before her shifts to spend time with you both. these moments, surrounded by the people you love, fill you with a bittersweet joy. you're cherishing every second, knowing that your time is running out, and hoping these memories will live on in the hearts of those you leave behind.

along with hyein, you spend lots of time with her grandma. the two of you talk late at night and in the mornings, mrs. lee shares more stories from her youth and memorable moments of hyein. she talks about her late husband more often, revealing how much he influenced hyein's playful personality. you still help cook for the regulars despite mrs. lee telling you to just relax, but you love what you do – serving their meals and satisfying people until your favorite face comes into view after the bell above the restaurant door jingles.

you still eat breakfast with danielle, though lately, you've been choosing to sit outside to people-watch while you both soak in the sun. sometimes, the people-watching turns into dani-watching. you find yourself trying to memorize every feature and detail of her face—from the curve of her nose to the crinkle in her eyes when an animal passes by, the small beauty marks on her cheek, and the faint freckles on her skin.

time is running out, and you can only pray that you'll be able to carry the memory of the person you love with you even after you die. wherever you go, you want to keep danielle tattooed in your mind, every detail of her face etched into your memory.

even as you two walk along the boardwalk, your eyes are focused on danielle. she’s looking in the distance, the sun is going to set soon.

before you know it, she’s turning back to you, catching you staring.

“something on my face?”

“no, no.” you mumble, putting your hands in your pockets and smiling down at jerry, who is struggling to walk in a straight line. you smile, then admit, “i’m very fond of your face.”

danielle giggles, then locks her fingers with yours. “i feel the same way about you miss l/n.”

“i’m very glad miss marsh.”

“would love to be your mrs. someday.” danielle mutters shyly, then looks up at you and you swear her eyes are shimmering. “if you’d let me.”

your heart simultaneously flutters and cracks into a few pieces. you move her hand up to your lips, kissing the back of it and saying, “i wouldn’t want anything else but for you to be mrs. for eternity.”

“mhm, that sounds like a dream.”

the two of you walk in silence for a moment longer, comfortable beside each other with jerry’s steps getting all jumbled up. danielle smiles sadly at him, knowing he doesn’t have much time left. you look at him, then at danielle, feeling the exact same way.

danielle feels you squeeze her hand tighter, then her gaze shifts to you. you look her in the eyes for five seconds and don’t say a single thing, the only thing that registers in your mind is that she’s the person youve needed your whole life.

maybe if you had more time you’d spend every morning having breakfast with her in mrs. lee’s restaurant, and on your days off she could even take you to one of her favorite spots. if you had more time you’d spend more time tracing patterns onto her skin and leaving gentle kisses there too, and you’d give anything just to have one more day having a stupid, meaningless conversation with her too.

she’s all that you’ve been searching for, and you don’t recall searching for anything in the first place.

“what?” she asks, “are you okay?”

“i love you so much.” you say suddenly, catching her offguard. “like, i’d look for you in a room full of hundreds of people, no doubt.”

“what’s with the sudden–” you peck her lips cutting her off and pausing her in place. “--affection…”

“i just love you, so much, always.”

“are you okay?”

“just lovesick.” you sigh, tightening your jaw.

danielle shakes her head, looking at you confusedly but smiling regardless. her smile could be the sun and you’d still stare at it until you’re blinded for life – not that you have that much life left anyway.

“alright silly. i love you even more, you know?”

“no way.”

“i’m not going to argue with you because i’m right.” danielle chuckles, her hand moves to caress the base of your neck. “i love you forever and wherever and always.”

“likewise, but ten times more.”

“you can’t multiply infinity by ten.”

“well i just did it in my mind.”

“i’m gonna blow you up in my mind.”

“yeah but not before you think of me all lovingly.” danielle shoves your shoulder hearing the remark, you simply laugh.

–

it’s time, and you’d rather die than – well, die.

you hadn’t been able to sleep, staying up until the sun started to rise and sleep eventually took over. you made a small prayer in your head that you wouldn’t die in your sleep or due to staying up so late – or early for that matter – just so you could see everyone at least one more time.

you wake a few hours after you had passed out and the day had already gone by, it was already three hours afternoon and everyone – haerin, hyein, and mrs. lee – was looking at you worriedly as you woke up.

before you can process any of it, haerin and hyein shake you awake even more, you jolt up and almost hit your head on the bedframe.

“w-what? how long was i out, what time is it? what’s happening – am i dead?”

“y/n,” haerin says quickly, face full of worry. her brows are furrowed so deeply that more wrinkles than you can count on one hand are visible, and the rest of the bunch looks just as concerned. “it’s storming outside, it’s crazy.”

“is it?”

hyein grabs your hand, then nods. “danielle, she’s out there.”

you stand up immediately upon hearing this, eyes widening as you gasp, “what? is she crazy?”

“jerry ran out, he’s missing. we couldn’t find him and danielle went out to find him. it’s pouring, and it seems like it’ll thunder or – i don’t know, something!” haerin says hurriedly, looking at you all distressed and bother. “i don’t know where she is, i– we don’t know what to do.”

“where did you see her run off?” you ask.

“towards the beach–” hyein gets cuts off when you hug her and the other two tightly, you practically pull them into your arms, it’ll probably be the last time they’re in them anyway. hyein watches a tear flow down your cheek as well as your bottom lip trembling, looking at you worriedly. her eyes widen just as yours did when she watches you tear away and head towards the door. “--y/n, no way you’re going out in this–”

“hyein.” you’re crying, you’re crying so hard and your chest is tightening so hard that you’re terrified you might just collapse right then and there. “i don’t have much– hell, i don’t have any time left. today is the day, there’s nothing stopping me. if i die, it might as well be because i’m searching for the light of my life.”

the three look at you with tears streaming down their skin, mrs. lee sobs softly before nodding in understanding. hyein looks at you in disbelief, and haerin mirrors the younger girls expression.

you purse your lips before heading out the door, through the restaurant, and finally outside.

it’s raining like crazy, you can barely see. there’s no way danielle went out in these conditions.

an umbrella flies past you and you have to jump out of the way so it doesn’t hit you – there’s no way you’d let an umbrella kill you.

you start running as fast as you can toward the beach, ignoring the slight burn of the raindrops hitting you harder now that you’re running against the flow. you run as fast as you can and ignore the burn in your legs from not warming up, the only thing in your mind is danielle. she has to be crazy.

you reach the beach in less than ten minutes, huffing like crazy as you scan the area. the rain has died down just slightly, but you’re still soaking and getting hit by droplets falling down aggressively.

in the corner of your eye, you catch someone running along the boardwalk and hear a familiar voice calling out “jerry!”

danielle.

immediately, you run towards the sound and barely visible figure, then bump into her accdientally, making the two of you nearly trip and fall over on the ground. danielle squints her eyes at you, then widens them and yells, “y/n?”

“are you fucking crazy?” you shout, “it’s crazy out here, why would you run out like that?”

you can’t really tell in the rain, but you manage to catch how red her nose is and the slight pink in her eyes. she’s been crying.

“j-jerry, he just… he ran out. y/n, he doesn’t have much time, i– i can’t–”

the two of you turn your heads when you hear a bark in the distance, looking toward there the sound had come from and doing your best to find out what caused it. danielle starts to run towards the beach, and you immediately dash right after her, following without thinking.

“jerry?” she calls out at the top of her lungs, running closer to where the water is. “jerry!”

in the distance, you make out a small dog like figure. it’s jerry, there’s no doubt about it. the color of the furm the snout, and the familiar bark all give it away; there’s no way it’s not jerry.

she starts to take off her shoes, and before she can dart into the water – the water the splashes against the sand roughly, the waves getting bigger and bigger – you stop her, grabbign her wrist tightly and holding her back.

“are you insane?” you question her, brows creased in disbelief, worry, and care. “you’ll drown.”

“jerry is going to die.”

“danielle, you’ll die.”

“i know.”

you can’t believe her, she’s soaked and her hair is almost covering one of her eyes. she tries to loosen the grip you have on her with her other hand, but you don’t budge. instead, you look at her, trembling.

“what do you mean ‘you know’?”

danielle shakes her head, desperately pushing you away. “let me go! please y/n, jerry is–”

“danielle what do you mean?”

the split second you loosen your grip, danielle manages to break free. she darts towards the ocean, running into the water and disappearing without giving you an explanation.

you bite your lip, then run after her. you’re dying today anyway, and if it’s for danielle, you’d be more than happy to perish like this.

danielle is desperately swimming towards jerry, who’s already much deeper in the ocean past where most people can even swim. it’s probably meters deep, and yet, danielle is still swimming relentlessly, you follow her and manage to nearly catch up somehow, trying to stop her.

“danielle!” water fills your mouth as you call for her, she turns back to see you struggling and hesitates. “p-please–” a wave hits you and you try to fight back up, spitting out the mix of rain and salty water. “you’ll die–”

“y/n!” she yells, worriedly swimming towards you and managing to grab your hand.

she does her best to pull you above the water, but oyu’re heavier and it almost sinks her down too. you manage to fight back up, holding onto her hand tightly as you fight for air.

“y-you’re an idiot.” you gasp, breathing in and out deeply. “you’re going to die.”

“why did you follow me?” danielle asks, doing her best to keep her head above the water. “you’ll die.”

“danielle,” you give up, letting your body slightly relax as every emotion you’ve ever felt hits you in the face. “i know. i’m dying today and if it’s for you then i’ll gladly do so.”

“what?”

“july 22nd, danielle. there’s a tattoo on my upper rib that has today’s date on it, i’m gone today, it’s inevitable.”

the rain water hits her face and makes her fight for air, but even while she does so, the shock on her face is clear as day.

“are you serious?”

“yes! i need you to live on even if i can’t, please, just–”

she sobs, you hear her so clearly and you’re taken aback.

“you idiot! me too.”

“what?”

“july 22nd, 2024.” she says plainly, “on my upper left rib, y/n.”

you can’t speak – or breathe for that matter, but maybe thats just the water filling up your nose and mouth as the waves get worse. somehow, you laugh defeatedly, then smile at her.

“we’re going to die together,” you manage to say, almost happily. “danielle, we’re–”

she silences you with a look, swimming closer until her arms wrap around you. without a word, she kisses you as if it's the last thing you'll ever do. miraculously, there's no taste of seawater—just something sweet, tender, and life-saving. the kiss is deep and enveloping, making you feel as if you're floating on air rather than nearly drowning in water. time seems to stand still as her lips convey everything words cannot, leaving you breathless and profoundly connected.

before you can fully process the moment, a wave crashes over you both. instead of fighting for air, you close your eyes tighter, wrapping your arms around danielle, holding her as if you’ll never let go. she mirrors your actions, clinging to you like it’s the last thing she’ll ever do. when you part for a brief second, neither of you opens your eyes, the seawater will make it feel like your pupils are burning. danielle rests her head in the crook of your neck as you two tumble int he water, the world around you dissolves, leaving just the two of you holding onto each other until everything fades into black.

...

you’re at the beach for your sixteenth birthday, somewhere warm and nice. your parents found a great deal online, the place was a four hour train ride and the views along the way were wonderful..

there’s no tattoo on your rib, and your parents are only absent because they’re fetching you ice cream from the hotel lobby—not because they’re gone forever. you stare out at the sea, feeling the sun kiss your features, hoping the tint on each peak of your face won’t be too harsh. you made sure to apply extra sunscreen anyway.

hugging your knees, you hum along to a chet baker song playing on your phone. suddenly, with no warning at all, your earbuds are yanked from your ears, and a dog is all over you, licking your shoulder, then your cheek, and pulling away to look at you with its tongue out and tail wagging happily.

you jump from the unexpected arrival but quickly dissolve into giggles, reaching out to pet the dog. its joyful energy is contagious, and you find yourself laughing and playing along, forgetting everything else as you bask in the simple, pure joy of the moment.

the dog seems oddly familiar, as if you’d met it before. you shrug it off, there’s tons of dogs that look like the one in front of you.

however, there aren’t many – probably zero – people that look like the girl running up towards you, quickly moving her dog away from you and apologizing.

“i’m so sorry!” she looks about your age, plus, her voice is really nice to the ears. “jerry, you need to learn some manners!”

the dog whines, rubbing against the girls legs and hiding behind her.

the girl is wearing a floral top and striped shorts, her hair long and flowing past her chest, moving perfectly in the breeze like a scene from a movie. her hair is dark and wavy, framing her face beautifully. she looks at you curiously, her large eyes framed by long, pretty eyelashes. words fail you, but she beats you to the punch.

"you have pretty eyes," she states, seemingly unfazed by the oddity of the situation. "have we met before?"

suddenly, you feel shy. this very pretty girl with a very sweet voice has just complimented you, and it seems like she knows you. maybe she’s the daughter of your parents’ friends, someone who’s heard of you before? you don’t really know.

you struggle to find your voice, but finally manage a response. "i– i’m sorry… i don’t think we’ve met.” as soon as it comes out of your mouth, you want to take it right back because you’re observing her a little closer, finding more details of her face that stand out and make you blush a little more and realize that she really does seem familiar. you can’t tell where you’ve seen her, but there’s a strange familiarity.

“hm, i see.” she smiles warmly, her eyes lighting up as she puts her hand out. "i’m danielle.” she introdcuues, then points to her dog. “this is jerry.”

“my name is y/n.”

“your name is really nice.”

“yours is too.”

the two of you stare at each other, both seemingly trying to decipher the strange click you felt upon meeting. her dog, now less shy, nudges you, making you laugh and pet him adoringly.

"my dog seems to like you," danielle mumbles, "that’s odd. he’s shy with everyone but haerin..."

"i’m just as surprised as you are," you say, tilting your head away as the dog suddenly jumps up and starts to lick your collarbone. "my friend hyein is much better with animals; they love her."

"well, you must be special then."

you don't respond, instead smiling and patting down a space for this mysterious girl to sit next to you. she smiles back, then jerry sits between you two, wagging his tail and looking between you both proudly, as if this meeting were his plan all along.

...

everyone had questioned how young you two got married, but everyone who actually knew you – hyein, haerin, and everyone else you’ve mingled with closely along the way – know that the timing is more than perfect, maybe even too late.

(hyein still scolds you for postponing your proposal because you didn’t have the guts to do it.)

you’re twenty and have been married to danielle for six months. there's a ring on your finger, and she’s your mrs., your lover, your wife—your everything. she’s the reason you’re up early on a sunday morning, feeling a pang of guilt for leaving her alone in bed. but it doesn’t matter because you’re busy doing her laundry and opening the tin of new coffee beans from australia that danielle insisted on buying at three in the morning when they were on sale.

(“they’re roasted in my hometown! please…”

“the shipping is over half of the actual tin…” you sigh, but danielle gives you puppy eyes and you give in. “fine.”

she kisses you on the lips, almost knocking you over even as you sit beside each other on the bed. “i love you.”

it sounds like a prayer coming from her.)

the scent of fresh laundry fills the living room as you fold her bottoms and hang her clothes. suddenly, you feel arms wrapping around your waist from behind and a kiss on the nape of your neck. danielle's presence warms you, her embrace making the mundane task feel special.

“morning,” she murmurs, her breath tickling your skin. you lean back into her, feeling the love and contentment radiate between you. the laundry can wait; in this moment, all that matters is the connection you share, the life you've built together, and the promise of many more mornings just like this.

“well good morning mrs. marsh.”

“good morning mrs. l/n.” danielle giggles into your clipped up hair, then sighs happily. “you smell like detergent, i want you.”

you let out a pftt and turn around to put your hand on her cheek and kiss her forehead. she hums and attempts to kiss your lips, but you pause her, putting a hand over her mouth.

“did you brush?”

a muffled, whiny “yes” is heard from her before she pushes her hand and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. she smells like toothpaste and lavender, you love it – you love her.

“hey sweetheart,” she starts, twirling the strand that pokes out of the claw clip. “i had the craziest dream.”

“yeah? what was it about.” you ask, then part from her to fold one of the jeans danielle had gifted you when you two were seventeen.

“you were in it and we had matching tattoos.”

“is that so?”

she hums, then continues, “and the tattoos were on the same place – upper rib – but on opposite sides. it had the date july 22nd, 2024 inked on it. apparently that was when we died.”

“that’s odd, we got married that day.”

“that’s what i was thinking! i don’t know… it was such a weird dream.”

you stack your bottoms on top of each other and grab danielle’s hand, leading her over to the kitchen of your shared apartment. “tell me more, but first–” you grab your weighed out grinds of coffee and put them in your coffee puck. “what would you like?”

“latte with almond milk please – hot.”

“on it mrs.” you grin, then kiss her cheek before getting to work. “continue with your dream, please.”

“right.” she hops up on the counter and dangles her feet. you smile at her wavy, disheleved bedhead still present as she goes on, “we fell in love, had a dog named jerry, and then we drowned.”

you pause in your place after putting the puck in the machine and pressing ‘brew,’ then turn to face your wife with a baffled expression.

“oh.”

“i know right! and then it switched to something else where we met on the beach, your eyes were still pretty, and the same dog in the last dream made me run into you. it’s like it switched from one universe to another.”

you giggle, walking over to place your hands on the counter. she wraps her legs around your waist, then holds your face in her hands.

“that’s crazy,” you nearly whisper, starstruck. “wow.”

“i know! oh my gosh… i think those multiverse movies you’re making me watch are catching up.”

“or maybe we’re in love and meant to be in each universe…” you half-tease, but all of you hopes it’s true. “we’re like our own angsty romance movie or something.”

danielle rolls her eyes and you laugh before heading over to finish her morning coffee. she blows her drink a few times, then sips, closing her eyes, evidently satisfied with her beverage. you smile and subconsciously rub your ring with your thumb, hopping up on the counter to sit with her and dangle your feet as she leans her head on your shoulder.

you’d love to be with danielle in every universe, even if it were for a few months, years, or even days. any time with her would be a blessing.

she kisses your knuckles and it feels like you’re floating, like there’s nothing to worry about. as long as she’s beside you and in your life, whichever one that is, you know that you’ll be content regardless of any circumstance.

#kpop x reader #newjeans danielle #newjeans x reader #new jeans x reader #newjeans imagines #danielle marsh #danielle x reader #danielle marsh x reader #mo jihye x reader #mo jihye #newjeans mo jihye

532 notes · View notes

elikajinnie · 3 days ago

Text

The Last Breath - S.J

P: Demigod!Jake X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Death, Violence, Confessions, basically right person, not enough time.

Synopsis: On the battleground, you lie on the edge of death, knowing there’s nothing left to do but let go. But then you see Jake, the one you’ve loved for so long, fighting. With a final surge of adrenaline, you muster the strength to confess your feelings, hoping to hear him say it back. But by the time he does, it’s too late. Two people in love cannot survive when one of them is gone, and as you slip away, so does the light of the world for Jake.

a/n: this is kinda short, but angsty :) so enjoy!

now playing: i love you by billie eilish

percy jackson au!masterlist

This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be in this battle—not today, not like this. But the gods, your so-called parents, had once again decided to throw you and the other half-bloods into the fray, using you like pawns on a celestial chessboard. It wasn’t fair, and some of you had dared to say so, but really, who could stand up to Zeus? Who would risk it, knowing the cost?

The fight had started off manageable—a few monsters, nothing you and your friends couldn’t handle. You’d thought maybe, just maybe, this would be one of the easier ones. But that hope shattered when the Minotaurs appeared, chaos erupted, and before you knew it, the battlefield had turned into a gruesome field of broken bodies and spilled blood. Friends, strangers, creatures—dead or dying everywhere you turned.

You should’ve been stronger. As the daughter of one of the more prominent Greek gods, you were supposed to rise above, to lead, to fight. But even godly lineage has its limits. You were cornered before you could react, outnumbered and outmatched. Their strikes were brutal, unrelenting, and though you fought back with everything you had, it wasn’t enough.

Now, here you are, crumpled on the ground, blood soaking through your torn armor and pooling around you. Every breath burns, every movement feels like a thousand daggers stabbing into your flesh. You can hear the shouts of your friends somewhere in the distance, but their voices are drowned out by the pounding in your ears.

You can’t die here. You won’t die here. But as the darkness creeps in, swallowing the edges of your sight, you can’t help but wonder if this time, the gods have pushed you too far.

You looked down at your wounds, at the crimson streaks running down your arms and hands. Your fingers were stained red, trembling as you struggled to make sense of the pain. It was everywhere—your chest, your legs, your ribs. Every breath you took felt like fire, every movement sent waves of agony through your body. You’d never been to Tartarus, but you swore this was what it must feel like. This was suffering, pure and unrelenting, and you didn’t know how much more you could take.

For a moment, the thought crossed your mind: you could just close your eyes. Let the pain take over. Give up and let the darkness swallow you whole. But before you could give in, something in the corner of your vision caught your attention. Him.

Sim Jake.

Son of Ares.

Even now, bruised and bloodied, barely holding himself upright, he kept fighting. He refused to back down, even when it looked like his body might give out at any second.

And he was your crush.

From the moment you arrived at Camp Half-Blood, clueless and scared, he had been there. You’d met him on your first day, wandering aimlessly, overwhelmed by the realization that you were a demigod. He had found you and, without hesitation, taken you under his wing. He’d taught you the ropes—how to hold a sword, how to defend yourself, how to survive. He showed you kindness when you needed it most, and slowly, over time, you’d fallen for him.

How could you not? There was so much to love about Jake. His soft curls that always seemed to fall perfectly into place. His warm, puppy-like eyes that somehow made you feel safe. His confidence, his humor, the way he smiled like he had the entire world in his hands. He was fierce and brave, yet gentle in a way you hadn’t expected from someone like him, someone whose father was the God of war.

Jake was... Jake.

And to you, he was everything.

But what were you to him? A friend? A sister figure? A pupil he’d taken under his wing out of pity? You didn’t know, but the idea of confessing your feelings only to be rejected kept you silent. Why would someone like him ever like someone like you? Jake deserved someone strong, someone who could stand by his side in battle without faltering. Not you, bleeding out on the ground, helpless and weak.

You shook your head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they lingered. You didn’t deserve him. That much, you were sure of. And yet, even as you tried to convince yourself to let go of the hopeless dream, you couldn’t take your eyes off him.

You loved him. So, so much. Even when you didn’t want to. Even when you tried to tell yourself it was foolish, that it would never work. But no matter how hard you fought it, your heart always betrayed you. And somehow, that hurt so much more than any of the physical pain you were feeling. The ache in your chest burned hotter than the cuts on your skin, sharper than the bruises blooming across your body.

You told yourself you’d had enough—enough fighting, enough struggling, enough everything. So, you stayed where you were, content to just watch him in your final moment.

But then you saw it.

A creature.

It was creeping toward Jake’s blind spot, its movements silent. He was too busy fighting off another monster to notice.

He didn’t see it.

Your body moved before your mind could process what was happening. You didn’t know where the sudden rush of adrenaline came from, but it didn’t matter. Pain surged through you as you forced yourself to your feet, the wounds screaming in protest, but you ignored it. Your hand found your sword, then your shield, both slick with blood as you grabbed them from the ground.

You staggered forward, limping and breathless, but your focus never left him. The creature was getting closer. Too close. Panic clawed at your chest as you tried to move faster, your battered legs trembling beneath you. Every step felt impossible, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop.

“Jake!” you screamed, your voice hoarse but desperate enough to make him turn. His wide eyes found you, shock flashing across his face as you barreled toward him, pushing yourself past the limits of what you thought you could endure.

Before he could say a word, before he could ask what you were doing, you threw yourself against his back. The impact sent a fresh wave of agony through your body, but you bit down the cry threatening to escape. You raised your shield just as the creature lunged, its attack colliding with the metal in a sickening crash.

The force of the blow rattled your bones, nearly knocking you over, but it didn’t hit Jake. It didn’t hurt him. You held firm, your shield braced as you stood between him and the creature, refusing to let it lay a single claw on him.

For a moment, everything else faded—the chaos, the deaths, the battlefield, the blood. All that mattered was that Jake was safe.

And you wanted to make sure he stayed safe. That was all that mattered. With a shout that burned your throat, you pushed the creature back with all the strength you had left, raising your sword and slashing it across the neck. The monster let out a guttural cry before falling, its body crumpling to the ground, lifeless.

You stood there for a moment, panting, trembling, and turned to Jake. He had just bested the last of his opponents, his blade still in hand, his chest heaving with exhaustion. The relief that flooded you was overwhelming. He was okay. Jake was okay. That was all you needed to know.

But your body had reached its limit. The adrenaline that had kept you standing drained away in an instant, leaving only the crushing weight of your injuries behind. Your legs buckled beneath you, and you fell. Your sword and shield slipped from your hands, clattering to the ground with a dull metallic crash.

You barely registered the sting of the impact as your body hit the ground, too numb, too tired to care. The edges of your vision blurred, darkened, but you could still see Jake turning toward you, his eyes wide with alarm.

“No!” His voice was panicked, cutting through the haze that threatened to pull you under. You wanted to respond, to tell him you were fine—or at least lie and say you were—but the words wouldn’t come. Your body felt heavy, your limbs like lead.

You tried to lift your head, but the effort was too much. All you could do was watch as Jake dropped his weapon, and rushed toward you. You wanted to smile at him, to reassure him, but the darkness was too strong.

You felt so numb, so cold… like the warmth was slowly draining from your body. The pain that had consumed you earlier was gone now, replaced by an eerie emptiness. But then, you felt it—Jake’s arms around you, pulling you close. His warmth pressed against your chilled skin, his frantic movements jolting your mind just enough to keep the darkness at bay. His voice was desperate, trembling as he spoke, though his words were distant, muffled by the haze clouding your mind.

You blinked sluggishly, trying to focus, trying to understand, and that’s when you felt something wet against your face. It wasn’t blood—it was warm, and it fell in soft drops that rolled down your cheeks. It took you longer than it should have to realize they weren’t your tears.

Jake was crying.

Your Jake. The brave, unshakable son of Ares. The boy who faced monsters and gods without flinching, who always smiled even when the odds were stacked against him. His face was twisted in anguish, his tears falling freely as he cradled you like you were the most fragile thing in the world. His voice broke as he spoke your name over and over, his hands shaking as he tried to keep pressure on your wounds.

Why was he crying?

Your mind felt too foggy, too far gone to make sense of it. You wanted to ask him, to tell him you were fine—even if it was a lie—but your lips wouldn’t move. Instead, you stared up at him, your heavy eyelids threatening to close, wondering why he looked so heartbroken.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he pressed his forehead against yours. “I’m so sorry. Please… please stay with me. I can’t—” His words choked off into a sob, and his grip on you tightened, as if holding you closer could somehow keep you here.

Sorry? What was he sorry for? You didn’t understand. Your chest ached, not from pain, but from the look on his face—the fear and desperation in his eyes. You’d never seen him like this before, and it hurt more than any wound ever could.

“Jake…” you finally managed to whisper, though your voice was barely audible. It took every ounce of strength you had left, and even then, it felt like the effort might break you. His head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his tear-streaked face hovering above yours.

“Yes! Yes,” he said quickly, his tone a mix of relief and panic. “I’m here. I’m right here. Don’t—don’t you dare close your eyes. Stay with me. Please.”

You wanted to obey, to stay awake like he begged, but the numbness was spreading, the world around you blurring again. Still, you fought to keep your gaze locked on him, his familiar face the only anchor you had left. You wanted to tell him everything—to tell him you loved him, that he was the reason you kept fighting, that he was your everything. But all that came out was a weak, trembling whisper.

“Why… are you crying?”

Jake’s face crumpled again, and a fresh wave of tears spilled from his eyes. He shook his head, brushing your hair back gently as if trying to soothe you. “Because I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice breaking with every word. “I can’t. I—” He swallowed hard, his chest heaving as he forced the words out. “Because I can’t lose you,” he choked out, his voice trembling like it was on the verge of shattering. He looked so lost, so helpless, his usual confidence stripped away.

“I can’t lose you, not you,” he rambled, his words tumbling out like a dam had broken. “I wouldn’t know what to do without you. You’re—you’re everything, and I should’ve told you that. I should’ve stayed with you during the battle, I should’ve protected you better—” His voice broke again, a sob catching in his throat. “But I wasn’t strong enough, and now… now you’re—” He cut himself off, shaking his head furiously, as though refusing to even acknowledge the possibility.

His hands trembled as he cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away blood and dirt like he could somehow make everything better by sheer force of will. “You can’t leave me. You can’t,” he said, his voice rising in desperation. “I can’t live without you. I don’t want to. Do you hear me? I need you. I need you.”

Tears streaked down his face, landing on your cheeks and mingling with the blood there. You stared up at him, your body too weak to move, too drained to respond. But your mind… your mind raced. His words, his confession—it didn’t feel real. Jake, your Jake, was falling apart in front of you, his heart laid bare, and you didn’t know how to process it.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice raw with guilt. “I’m so sorry. This is my fault. If I had just stayed with you, if I’d just—” He clenched his jaw, his fists tightening as though trying to hold back the anger at himself. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been by your side, protecting you. That’s all I ever wanted—to keep you safe. And I failed.”

You wanted to tell him he was wrong, that it wasn’t his fault, that he’d done more for you than anyone ever had. But the words wouldn’t come, your body too weak to obey. All you could do was stare at him, wide-eyed, your heart pounding despite your exhaustion.

Jake’s gaze searched yours, his desperation deepening when he noticed your silence. “Please, say something,” he begged, his voice breaking. “Yell at me, tell me I’m an idiot, anything. Just… don’t leave me. Please..” His forehead pressed against yours again, his warm breath mixing with your shallow, ragged gasps.

The world around you felt distant, muted, but Jake… Jake was so close, his presence so overwhelming that it was the only thing keeping you tethered to reality. And even through the haze, you could feel your heart breaking at the sight of him. You’d never seen him like this—never seen him so completely shattered.

You wanted to reassure him, to tell him it was okay, that you weren’t giving up. But all you could do was keep staring, stunned by his confession. The boy you thought could never love you the way you loved him was here, holding you like you were his entire world, begging you to stay, telling you he needed you.

You didn’t know how this would end, whether you’d survive the injuries tearing you apart, but in that moment, you found the strength to part your lips, even if only slightly.

“Jake…” you whispered, barely audible, but it was enough to make his head snap up, his tear-streaked face inches from yours. You saw the hope flicker in his eyes, the way he clung to the sound of your voice like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

“I…” Your voice faltered, the effort too much, but you managed a small, trembling smile. You needed him to know, no matter what happened next. “You’re wrong. You… you didn’t fail me.”

“No,” Jake said sharply, his voice trembling with barely-contained emotion. “I did fail you.” His hands pressed harder against your wounds, though you both knew it wasn’t helping. He looked at you like he was trying to will you back to life with sheer determination, his tears falling faster now. “If I was just a little stronger, just a little faster… you’d be standing with me right now. Victorious. Unharmed. Unscathed.”

His voice cracked, and he shook his head, his lips pulling into a thin, anguished line. “You wouldn’t be here, bleeding out in my arms. You wouldn’t—” His breath hitched, and he closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders trembling. “You wouldn’t be dying.”

You wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, that none of this was his fault. But you couldn’t. Not because you agreed with him, but because you already knew the truth. He wasn’t wrong about one thing—you were dying. The warmth in your body was all but gone, replaced by a chilling numbness that crept deeper with every passing second. You could feel it now, the faint pull. You wouldn’t survive this. No godly intervention, no miracle could save you.

So what was the point in denying it? If this was the end, you knew there was something you had to do. You’d carried the weight of your feelings for too long, burying them out of fear of rejection, of heartbreak. But now… now you didn’t have to be afraid. If he rejected you, it wouldn’t matter. You’d be gone, and there’d be no heartbreak to endure.

What better time to confess than when you had nothing left to lose?

Your lips trembled as you summoned the last of your strength, your voice a mere whisper. “Jake…”

His eyes snapped back to yours, the desperation in them piercing through the haze clouding your mind. “What is it? Don’t try to talk—just hold on, okay? You’ll be fine. I’ll get you out of here, I swear.”

You wanted to smile at his stubborn hope, but your body was too weak. Instead, you forced out the words you’d never had the courage to say before. “I… I need to tell you something.”

Jake’s brow furrowed, his panic deepening. “No, you don’t. You can tell me later, okay? When you’re better—”

“Jake,” you interrupted, your tone firmer this time despite the weakness in your voice. He froze, his lips parting slightly as he stared at you. You swallowed hard, forcing the lump in your throat down as you looked into his eyes, memorizing every detail of his face.

“I love you,” you whispered, the words leaving your lips so softly they almost got lost in the chaos around you. But Jake heard them. You saw the way his expression shifted, the way his eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “I’ve loved you for so long. And I… I’m sorry I never told you before, but I couldn’t. I was scared.”

His mouth opened as if to say something, but no sound came out. You pushed forward, desperate to get it all out. “I didn’t think you’d feel the same. But I—I needed to tell you. Just once.” A weak, bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “Even if you don’t feel the same, it’s okay. I just… I needed you to know.”

Jake’s face crumpled again, his tears falling faster now as he shook his head. “No,” he said, his voice breaking. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to say that and then—” He stopped himself, his hand cupping your cheek as he leaned closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I feel the same... I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember.”

Your heart ached at his words, both with joy and sorrow. You wanted to hold onto that moment forever, but you could feel yourself slipping away, your vision blurring at the edges. “Jake…” you whispered, his name a soft breath on your lips.

“No, don’t you dare,” he said, his voice rising in panic as he shook you gently. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. You’re staying with me, do you hear me? I love you, and you’re staying with me. Please.”

But his voice was growing fainter, the world around you dimming as the darkness closed in. All you could see was him, his tear-streaked face and trembling hands, his love for you written in every broken word he spoke.

And as the last of your strength faded, you managed one final smile, your fingers brushing weakly against his hand. “I love you too,” you whispered, and then everything went still.

You wouldn’t know that Jake’s screams echoed across the battlefield, piercing through the chaos like a dagger to the heart of everyone who heard it. His cries were filled with so much anguish that even the monsters seemed to hesitate, their bloodlust momentarily stalled by the sheer force of his grief.

He clutched your lifeless body to his chest, his arms trembling as he held you as tightly as he could, as though refusing to let you slip away completely. His tears soaked into your bloodied clothes, his face buried in your hair as he sobbed. “No, no, no,” he chanted over and over, his voice cracking with every word. “Please… not you. Anyone but you.”

Jake felt like his entire world had collapsed. His heart was shattered, broken beyond repair, leaving nothing but a hollow void in its place.

“You can’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible now. “I can’t… I can’t do this without you. You promised me. You said you’d stay.” His fingers brushed against your cheek, smearing the blood there as if trying to bring color back to your pale skin. But it was futile. He knew that. Deep down, he knew.

Yet he couldn’t let go.

His body shook as he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours, his tears falling like rain onto your face. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking again. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve protected you.”

But no matter how many times he apologized, no matter how many tears he shed, it wouldn’t bring you back. And that thought… that reality… was unbearable.

Jake felt his breathing grow ragged, his chest tightening painfully as the weight of your absence threatened to crush him completely. He couldn’t imagine a world without you. A world where your laughter didn’t fill the air, where your smile didn’t light up his days. A world where he didn’t get to tell you how much he loved you every single day.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Not without you. I can’t.” His hands shook as they clung to you, his knuckles white from the force of his grip. He didn’t care about the battle raging around him. He didn’t care about the blood still staining his hands. All he cared about was you. And you were gone.

He pressed a soft, trembling kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there as his tears continued to fall. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost lost in the wind. “I always have. I always will.”

But the pain didn’t go away. It only grew, consuming him like fire, burning through his resolve and leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. He didn’t know how to go on. He didn’t know if he could.

Because a world without you wasn’t a world worth living in.

Jake’s trembling hands slowly reached for the pendant around your neck—the one he’d given you months ago, after you’d bested him in a sparring match. It was simple, unassuming, but it had meant the world to him when you’d accepted it. Now, it was all he had left of you. He unclasped it with shaking fingers, clutching it tightly in his palm as if it were the only thing tethering him to what little sanity he had left.

“I’ll see you again,” he whispered, his voice so broken it was barely audible. “I promise. I’ll come to you. Just… wait for me.”

As the battle raged on, Jake didn’t care about the outcome anymore. He didn’t care about the gods or their games, or the war that had taken everything from him. All he cared about was the promise he’d just made. To you. To the only person who had ever truly mattered.

a/n: oooooooooookay! so this marks the last fic of 2024 :) wooow... what a year. Thanks for all the birthday wishes <33 Love all of youu! Now time to get drunk, ugh i need it after this year. Reblogs and commentary are welcomed <3

══════⊹⊱≼≽⊰⊹══════

Perm taglist: @ilyunjina @nshmrarki @laylasbunbunny

@wensurr @immelissaaa @simj4k3 @vegahrid @03sunoos

@hollxe1 @moonpri @cherriesfine @badtzsan @anushkaaaiaiiaiaia

@heeseungbabydoll @wondash @renjiishot @demigodmahash

@strawberrieswithchocolateo3o @honeybunnee @jjongstar111

@enhaprettystars @zorange13 @jiminie-08 @chocowonnie

@enhamonsterghoul @mrsjjongstby @lunaritex @kiripimaspillow

@sumsumtingz @norucking @tunafishyfishylike @txnwvc

@jakeluvrrs @antoinettenotfound @firstclassjaylee @xnatqq

Bold ones are untaggable | Wanna be in the perm taglist? Lmk <3

248 notes · View notes

fallatyourfeet · 6 months ago

Text

Unbroken (Jon Snow x Reader -One shot)

Summary: Shortly after the Battle of the Bastards, Sansa discovers some unexpected news regarding YN. Jon is thrilled to hear you're alive, but unfortunately, the news is bitter sweet.

Word count: 3234 Sorry (This is a super long one shot for me, I usually try to keep them under 2000 words. But I guess this one got away form me)

Warnings: It's pretty dramatic and angsty. YN has been mistreated by Ramsay. I'm sure you know what that means!

Please feel free to send me a message/comment/ask, I would love to know what you think.

A/N: This fic was a request from @automaticpandadreamer Hope you like it. God knows you've waited long enough

Hello I love your book Northern Light so musch I'm still reading it three years after discovering it. I was was wondering if you could do like a Jon Snow x reader who is from a warrior house that the Starks have known for a long time. Her house get attacked by the Boltons and Ramsy does....Vile things to her as his plaything and she helps Sansa and Theon escape but not before Ramsay lays a huge whipp across her back giving her a scar but after that she meets Jon and she is happy to see jon .

Jon assumed you were dead. It hurt to even think it, but surely Ramsay would never have allowed you to breathe another day, once you helped Sansa and Theon escape. Never for one moment, did he believe he would return to his childhood home, after all these years and hear Sansa speak the words. “She’s alive, Jon… YN’s alive.” Standing in the middle of the courtyard, his knuckles still covered in Ramsay’s blood, Jon found himself overwhelmed by the unexpected and welcomed news, his mind racing with cherished memories.

During his childhood, you were a regular visitor to Winterfell, accompanying your parents for feasts and celebrations and usually staying long after they returned to Bear Island. And they were some of his happiest memories. Wherever you were, Jon was never far behind. The two of you were all but inseparable.

You were not like other girls. Strong, fierce and surprisingly unpretentious for a highborn. Memories flooded back. Watching you shoot bow after bow perfectly into its target, while his fell uselessly to the ground. Could still remember how quickly you could saddle a horse then tease him playfully for being so slow. How many days had he spent sparring with you in that very courtyard? Snapping and splintering countless wooden swords trying to get the better of you, but you were far too quick for him. And how vividly he could recall Catelyn’s disapproving stares. Never knowing if it was the fact that, you, a trueborn lady of House Mormont was allowed to train as a warrior. Or the fact that you were allowed to train with him, a bastard. Maybe it was both. Or maybe it bothered her to know that you enjoyed his friendship, maybe even valued it above her own children. Whatever the issue, Jon refused to acknowledge it, even as a little child. He would not allow her disapproval to spoil his time with you.

And when you returned to Bear Island the letters began. Parchments covered from back to front in your handwritten script. Sharing your stories, hopes and dreams, filling the void between your infrequent visits. Miles and miles may have separated you, but those letters brought you closer than ever. You were his best friend. No. You weren’t. You were more than that. Much, much more. And up until now he thought he had lost you.

“Where is she?” Jon barely breathed the words, his voice caught with fragile hope… hope that he was not dreaming.

Sansa answered with hesitation, “The Maesters’ Turret.” And when Jon made a move to leave, she grabbed him by the arm, her eyes filled with concern for both YN and her brother. “She’s not in a good way, Jon.”

Jon was silent a moment, unsettled by his sister’s expression, “What do you mean… is she going to be okay?” He was eager to pull away, to see your face, but Sansa didn’t loosen her grip.

Looking across the courtyard Sansa took a breath, her eyes settling on the spot where less than an hour ago Ramsay laid in an unconscious mess beneath Jon’s fists. Turning back to her brother she replied, “Yes. She is going to be okay… but Ramsay he…” Sansa struggled to find the right words, “He has left his mark on her…”

Jon didn’t quite know what she meant, but he knew it wasn’t good. Pulling away from his sister, he wasted no further time, heading straight towards the maester’s turret. He needed to see YN with his own two eyes… needed to see her alive and breathing. Moving through the courtyard his eyes caught sight of Ramsay’s blood, his lips tightening into a hard line as his feet kicked through the crimson dirt. Part of him wishing his fists had drawn Ramsay’s final breath. That man… no… monster, did not deserve to live another day. And if both Sansa and YN didn’t want to take it away themselves, he was more than willing to do it for them

Reaching the turret Maester Wolkan greeted him, but Jon had no time for pleasantries, coming across rather abruptly to the new master of Winterfell, though Jon paid it no thought at all. “Lady YN, how is she… where is she?” Jon’s eyes searched behind him, seeing nothing but a dimly lit room and a shelving unit crowded with apothecary bottles.

Stepping outside the turret doorway Maester Wolkan closed the door behind him, speaking in hushed tones, confirmation that YN was inside. “Lord Snow, Lady Mormont is currently resting. I have given her milk of the poppy. Lord Ramsay he… he left her in a bad way… this time.”

Jon’s face contorted at the maester’s words, as if the sound of them physically hurt his ears. “What do you mean, this time… what did he do to her?” Jon asked with hesitation, not sure if he was equipped to hear the answer.

Maester Wolkan was a little surprised. Sansa had not long left to find Jon and inform him. Not realising he had given her little chance to explain before leaving her standing in the middle of the courtyard. The maester shifted apprehensively on his feet, not feeling threatened by the former Lord Commander, but rather ill at ease by the intensity of his concern. “Ah… Unfortunately, Lady YN has been here far too often these past months.” Taking a deep breath he continued, “Lord Bolton did not take kindly to her aiding Lady Sansa’s escape.”

Clearing his throat, he grew even more uncomfortable… how was he going to explain the extent of the torture inflicted upon this poor woman, when it was clear the man before him cared deeply for her. “It began with a single lashing the night Sansa escaped,” (leaving out the detail of how brutal that single lashing was; it tore her back wide open), “Ramsay would send her here every day so I could treat her wound, only for him to whip her again the very day it healed.”

Jon’s stomach churned, but he could tell the maester still had more to say. Trying to prepare himself for the next onslaught he took a deep breath, before Wolkan continued, “Every time I would heal her, he would whip her again… but last night, he… he could have killed her… I’ve never seen injuries like it.”

Burning rage twisted at Jon from deep within his core. This animal of a man had repeatedly defiled his sister, murdered Rickon before his very eyes and had been torturing the woman he loved, for months. Not even daring to imagine what other unspeakable things he probably inflicted upon her. Jon could barely think, he needed to see her. Stepping forward he reached for the cast iron latch, the urgency in his features alarming Wolkan, “I’m sorry Lord Snow, she needs to rest… please… come back tomorrow.”

Shaking his head, Jon replied, his hand already opening the door, “No Maester… I’m staying with her until she wakes… I’ll be quiet.”

Entering the turret, it was difficult to see, the room kept dark by heavy drapes drawn across the windows. And yet, immediately Jon felt some relief. He could hear you breathing. It was dry and raspy, but at least it was steady; it was strong. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim candlelight tucked away in the corner. But it was the glow of the hearth flickering around the stone walls that had the air twisting in his chest. It illuminated your form, the shadows rippling across blood-soaked bandages wrapped loosely around your torso. Resting on your stomach, you were so still, eyelids heavy with induced sleep, your hair pinned to the top of your head to keep from interfering with your injuries. The table beside you was a mess of strong-smelling ointments and bandages, while the discarded ones sat overflowing in a bucket underneath, soaked red with your blood.

A wooden chair sat in the corner, but it was not close enough, he needed to be beside you. Moving to grab it, he stopped short when he reached out and noticed his hands. They were covered in dried blood and mud, remnants of the battle that took place outside the castle walls just a few hours earlier. With a deep breath, he realised he needed to clean up just as Maester Wolkan walked in, clearly thinking the same thing.

With fresh towels under his arm and a jug of hot water in his hands, he looked to Jon, “If you’re going to stay, Lord Snow, you’ll need to clean up. Lady YN can’t afford to be exposed to any contaminants.” Putting them down on a table behind a screen, he added, “Your sister is bringing you up a fresh tunic.”

Nodding his head, Jon smiled softly, “Aye. I just realised that myself.” And no sooner had Jon disappeared behind the screen, came the quiet knock at the door announcing the delivery of his tunic.

Settled in the wooden chair beside you, Jon had time to think. The milk of the poppy had given you much needed hours of rest. He could tell you were heavily sedated because you barely murmured or moved when Maester Wolkan changed your dressings. And he thanked the gods. Never had he seen injuries like it. Any previous scarring left behind by Ramsay was indistinguishable, your poor back… it was… it, it didn’t look like a back at all. In the end he had to turn his head away, unable to imagine what anybody could have done to deserve such treatment, let alone you. Jon sighed heavily, if only he had arrived a few days earlier, then maybe he could have saved you the suffering.

Jon thought about everything that brought you to this very room, forever scarred. It was your loyalty to the Starks, his family. When Robb called his banners, you marched beside him into every battle, leaving him thinking you had died along with his brother at the ‘Red Wedding.’ But in the middle of his grief came some sunshine in the form of a letter. It was sealed in the familiar wax stamp of House Mormont and addressed to him in your beautiful script. Yet, clouds quickly swallowed up the sunshine when he took a moment to breathe, his heart sinking as quickly as it had soared. What if the letter had been sent before that fateful night at The Twins? Though his concern was short lived as his shaking hands unravelled the parchment. Your words making it clear that you were alive.

Dear Jon,

I’m sorry to be writing under such dark circumstances, wishing I could fill this page as I did when I was a carefree child, to fill it with stories born of joy and hope, and memories to make us smile, but life hasn’t followed our childhood dreams. Instead, we are faced with grim reality, leaving us feeling hollow and betrayed. Losing Robb at any time was going to be painful but losing him in the manner we did is incomprehensible. The betrayal and disloyalty that took place at The Twins that treasonous evening leaves me enraged.

Somehow, I was sparred. Sheer luck saved me, after leaving the hall just moments before they locked the door, managing to find my horse amongst the slaughter and escape. Our poor men stood no chance, murdered as they sat around fires drinking the very ale offered by their killers. It was an unforgivable and cowardly act that the North will never forget.

Now that I’m home, I pray for days that begin and end with no discernible events, but I fear harder times lie ahead, much harder than I can fathom. The number of Wildings reaching Bear Island increases every week. Not to raid, but to seek refuge, and the stories they bring keep me awake at night. As a brother of the Night’s Watch, I’m sure you’re no stranger to these stories and the fear I see in their eyes troubles me deeply.

Please know that I think of you often. I can’t imagine how hard it must have been receiving the news of your father’s death and then Robb’s while sworn to the Night’s Watch. Every day, I pray for the safe return of Arya, Bran and Rickon and hope Sansa finds protection under her new Lannister name.

Take care Jon. I will write again soon, hopefully bringing more light in these uncertain times.

Yours

And your letters continued. Just as you promised. Words reliving cherished memories, furnishing his thoughts with new stories, providing much needed smiles for trying times. Until your final letter arrived. It’s content still as fresh as the day he read it, ‘At first light I will be leaving Bear Island. The Baratheon Army is marching on Winterfell, and I intend to help them take it back from the Boltons.’ And that was the last he heard of you. Leaving him with no other conclusion, than believing you died alongside Stannis’ army when Ramsay defeated them in the Wolfswood. All until Sansa showed up at Castle Black and told him all you had done for her.

Jon had held no hope for your survival, sure that Ramsay would make you pay with your life. And yet, Jon had underestimated the cruelty of the beast, could not comprehend the lengths Ramsay would reach to punish your unyielding loyalty. Realising as he stared at the blood-soaked bandages which held your back together, that the sick monster had taken pleasure in the process. He enjoyed both the physical and mental damage he wreaked.

But here you were, still alive and fighting, defying Ramsay in the most determined and tenacious way. It was almost worth letting Ramsay survive if only to see you grow healthy and strong. To see you unbroken. To see the strength in your eyes as the life disappeared from his.

Pulling Jon from his darkening thoughts, came the soft whisper of his name, “Jon?”

How long had he been sitting there? Jon had no idea. Somewhere amongst his thoughts he must have fallen asleep, noticing the first light of dawn creeping in around the edges of the drapes. Announcing the arrival of a brand-new day.

Fully alert now Jon slid to the edge of his chair, his heart pounding heavily in his chest, reaching out he gently took your hand, his thumb running back and forth across your knuckles. “Yes, YN. It’s me.”

You winced, as you made a move to sit up, though you tried to hide it.

Wincing in sympathy Jon carefully brushed the hair from your eyes, responding tenderly, “Please, don’t move. Stay there. Maester Wolkan has already tried sending me away. He’s worried I won’t let you rest. Don’t give him an excuse to try it again.” Giving your hand a comforting squeeze, he leaned over, his face just a few inches from yours, his voice barely a breath from cracking, “It’s good to see you YN… I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner, before…” Jon’s eyes betrayed him, involuntarily lingering on your back.

Cutting him short, your words were a little groggy, but clearly, your mind was not, “Hush Jon, it wouldn’t have mattered when you arrived. He was always going to react like this.”

Without thinking, Jon asked the question he never meant to ask, at least not for some time, “Why did he do it?” Upset with himself, he tried to take it back, “Sorry YN, I didn’t mean to ask, don’t answer, I don’t know why I- “.

Cutting him short again, you answered without hesitation or regret, “I provoked him when he said he was going to take pleasure watching the bastard of Winterfell die.” Anger flashed across your features as you recalled the moment, defiance rooted deeply in your voice, “I told him this battle would be his last… That you may be a bastard by name, but he is a true bastard in every other sense of the word.”

Jon thought he saw a smile touch your lips, not sure how you found amusement in your current condition, “He didn’t like it when I told him he was going to lose, that soon the flayed banners will be lying in the dirt where they belong.” You cleared your throat, the action causing you to wince again, “I can still see his rage, him waiting for an apology, for me to beg for my life… But I couldn’t… I just stared back… said, kill me if it makes you feel better… But it will not save you.”

Jon’s heart broke, his guilt intensifying. His lips started forming an apology, but you refused to let him speak the words, knowing exactly what was running through his mind. Despite your discomfort, you took your hand from his, reached for his cheek and spoke, “Stop Jon, don’t you dare apologise. It’s not your fault… he’s a monster. I don’t regret it and if I had the chance I would do it again.” Jon shook his head in disbelief, no one would willingly endure your suffering if they had the choice, but here you were speaking the words. Never had he been more in awe of you. “I would. I had control in that moment… I won the battle. He didn’t break me, Jon. He couldn’t. I wouldn’t let him. Not once… Not ever.”

Struggling to ignore the heavy lump forming in his throat, he swallowed thickly, forcing himself to remain strong, if only for you. “I don’t know how you did it, YN. You’re stronger than any woman I’ve ever known. Ramsay will pay… pay for everything he has done to you and Sansa. What you did for her, I can’t… I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”

Moving your hand from his cheek, you rested your head against the bed, taking his hand your expression softened, your beautiful eyes trying to disguise their pain. Tears gathered behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. With a deep breath, you somehow found the strength to smile, “Remember the blue lake I used to talk about when I was little. The volcanic one my father would take me to?”

Jon nodded, a soft smile warming his features, “Of course, you used to talk about it all the time.” Pink touched his cheeks when he recalled, “I still have the picture you drew of it. And the letter you sent it with.”

“Yes, I remember asking if I could take you there one day.” Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, your eyes searched his, looking for something. Something to grab on to or hope for. Something to look forward too. And as you spoke again, he knew he would do everything in his power to give you what you needed. “I know defeating Ramsay Bolton is only the beginning. We have many battles left. But promise me, when we come through the other side of them, you will let me take you there.”

Moving closer, he knelt beside you. You looked so tired and drained and somehow even more beautiful than he remembered. With the greatest care he took your face between his palms, placing a feather light kiss to your forehead, his reply more sincere than any words he had ever spoken. “I promise. But for now, you must rest. Sleep… I’ll still be here when you wake.”

#jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow x reader fanfic #thomas shelby #jon snow x reader fanfiction #jon snow imagine #game of thrones x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones imagine

504 notes · View notes

plutoasteroids · 7 months ago

Text

PAC How Will Your Future Spouse's Father (Your Father-In-Law) Feel About You.

Pile 1 Pile 2 Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: This reading is solely for entertainment purposes only! I am not responsible for any decisions taken based on my readings.

This is a general reading so if nothing resonates don't take it to heart. Take what resonates and leave what doesn't!

ASK BOX is always open

TW: MENTION OF NEGLECT AND ABUS3. IF ITS A TRIGGER FOR YOU AND YOU CONTINUE TO READ ANYWAY PLEASE DON'T BLAME ME ITS YOUR CHOICE!

PILE 1

Your father-in-law would view you as something new and different, you may be the complete opposite of the general type of your FS normally goes for but in a good way because I feel your FS doesn't necessarily have the best track record when it comes to picking their partners. Your father-in-law will quickly approve of you it feels almost like they'll say to your FS 'you made a good choice'.

But at the very beginning they may feel a bit unsure about you specifically because of the way you carry yourself, you could be really shy and not talkative or super confident anyways they just won't be 100% sure about you more so because he doesn't have a clear grasp on your personality or even your intention.

Them being unsure will quickly change and the two of you may have a relationship based on understanding or similar values or opinions. You'll have some sort of mutual understanding that will bring you both closer, in the long run they'll for sure view you as their child maybe even as somewhat of a friend.

Your Father-in-law gives me scholar vibes if not heavy lawyer vibes, lawyer, professor, teacher maybe even a priest.

PILE 2

They will feel somewhat withdrawn from you. I don't think your future father-in-law is involved in your FS' life, as in they are around but they never took an active role, so they won't have much of an opinion on you. It seems like they might see you from a distance like maybe through social media.

But from what they know about you they feel like you're very passionate and enthusiastic about life in general because your life will be pretty well. They feel like you have your life together and they like that.

But there is some sadness here mainly relating to the fact that their child found their life partner and are moving on with life and they can't be a part of that. They might do some introspection to try change and get better, they may even try to slowly enter yours and your FS lives.

It feels like they may have been a dead-beat dad for some of you and for other just emotionally unavailable and maybe slightly abus!ve.

PILE 3

Your father-in-law it seems like they may be aware of your existence in their child's life, but they aren't aware of how significant you are but finding out about your significance in your FS life might be somewhat of a pleasant surprise to him.

He will have a positive opinion on you, feeling like you bring some balance and happiness to your future spouse, and it feels like he won't be too active in your life and that of your fs. Like not absent but giving you two space to be your own people and your own couple, but he'll be there when you need advice, or you need someone to talk to.

I think you may give him a fresh perspective on life, and he'll certainly appreciate your views and your opinions. He seems to eb more on the unconventional side.

Random information: He may pay for your wedding (if you want to get married) just because he wants to and it would make him happy to pitch in financially.

He may not be married to your FS' mother. Like he is married to your FS' stepmother, or their partner isn't the biological parent of your FS. I also get the vibe of it being maybe a same sex marriage.

#daily tarot #free tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #astro community #astrology #divination #pick a card #pac tarot #tarot reader #tarot #channeled message

515 notes · View notes

unacknowledgeable · 3 days ago

Note

Uhm, hey!

I love your serial killer reader so so much, and I just want to say that it just scratches that itch in my brain.

Though, I feel like commissioners Gordon could be a yandere of a sort. He’s obsessed with the killer and finding this person, willing to break any law to find evidence, to risk his own morals to get a clue. And if he finds out its reader???

Well, I’ll be kinda like a Hannibal and will situation, but platonic. Like, reader now has their sight on this man, curious on how he’ll play the game, and Gordon is too obsessed not to play.

Anyway, could I be 🔎? Thanks for reading!!

Oh anon, anon anon anon, big kith for you (to transfer the worms, obviously) I told myself i would take a BREAK, but you, you, I'm bouncing off the walls bc of you

Y’know I actually have a spreadsheet with all of the batfams ages? when certain events happen, motivations, etc, now I gotta add gordon too, goodness me.

I honestly haven't watched Hannibal QwQ haha, would you believe me if I said most of the media I consume is actually feel good kids cartoons….?

BUT I have been wanting to watch it so I watched the first few episodes before replying to this, because I gotta be informed y’know? admittedly i find there's a lot of disconnect between the correlating characters, but this is a wonderful jumping off point!

ANYWAY, I have actually been trying to think of a way to give the MC more of a life outside of angst with the batfam and, well, you know, murdering people. and this? This is so fun. I think the MC would probably know Gordon through Barbara (obviously), but that's not how they met. He was there, the night your mother died, arriving on the scene to find something he had hoped he wouldn't have found again, not after the first time. A small, 8 year old child, orphaned in a single night.

Admittedly, that's where the similarities ended. Where Bruce lost his parents in a back alley of Gotham, you lost yours within your own home. Where two gunshots marked the Wayne couple, your mother was bludgeoned . Where Bruce had wept, blood on his shoes as he gripped his parents bodies, pleading and fighting to hold on, you sat outside, waiting for police to arrive, not a drop of blood on you.

Getting you to answer questions was like pulling teeth, all they could gather was that your mother had sent you to bed and you later woke up to find her body in the kitchen, having already been dead for several hours. They figured it was a robbery gone wrong, which would explain the killer not knowing another person was in the house, having fled the scene as soon as possible. But that didn't explain why on earth you didn't wake up to what was obviously a loud struggle, there was simply no way.

The blood results very quickly answered that question and sparked hundreds more. Your mother had been microdosing your food with sleeping pills, all found within the apartment under her name. Either she didn't want to deal with putting you to bed or wanted to make sure you stayed there throughout the night. The fact that you were even still conscious was kinda a miracle. Gordon seriously wished that had been the biggest surprise from those damned tests. Because it turned out his earlier comparisons with Bruce Wayne were far more accurate then he ever would have guessed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It's not exactly a stretch to assume Gordan kept some kind a of contact with you after everything is settled, he’s done it before, dudes literally one of Bruce's best friends

He sees you at charity galas a lot, and after catching you trying to sneak alcohol from one of the tables? He appoints himself as your chaperone for any galas you both happen to attend from there on out, which is quite a few of them over the years

You'd have been a lot more annoyed with him if he hadn't allowed you to ramble and talk non-stop throughout the whole event (he was a distraction, like the alcohol, at least this distraction is legal)

This continues on even when your older, when he no longer has any legal need to herd you away from the drink tables, it's just habit now, and you hate breaking habits

While your connection with Bruce can get you many places, it's your connection with the Commissioner that basically guarantees you a position in the coroner's office

yeah, they work in the coroner's office as a mortuary assistant heheheeh

It's not really suspicious either, Gordon had been well aware of your goal for the job for many years (long before you started making the bodies yourself)

So now, not only do you have near unlimited access to all the case files the bats have on you, you also had access to what the police knew (it's mostly the same stuff, but you had to cover all your bases, god you're just like your father)

There was some sort of irony, performing autopsies on the people you killed, but you don't care to look for it, more focused on destroying any bits of evidence you can

Gordon is no stranger to giving out confidential police info, hell he has a glorified flashlight built specifically to call the bat and just hand him case files, ON TOP OF THE POLICE STATION!!

You often work similar hours, so you let him talk and talk and talk at length about how fucking weird this serial killer in particular is

Unlike with the batfam, reader literally gets a front row seat to Gordon's descent into obsession

You'd seen him with almost every other criminal case that popped up during your time spent around the police department, so you caught on pretty quickly that this was was no normal case to him anymore

He was obsessive, rattling on about the motives and habits of this killer, talking like he knew them personally (oh the ironyyyy) and at first? It weirded you the fuck out.

Not the behavior in general, but that it was essentially focused solely on you, you kept him up at night, kept him guessing, wondering when you’ll strike next, how brutal will it be, more or less than usual?

At first you're like “oh okay, ummmm…. you good buddy? I'm not sure you're all there yourself actually”

You'd just never felt so seen, at least, not by someone still living

Now, Gordon's obsession isn't based on nothing, when I said he found the way SK!reader operated weird asf, I meant it, this man is utterly baffled by it

Normally, when crime scenes are as brutal as yours, its personal, they know the person they've murdered and they hold so much rage in their heart that they can't help but try to cause as much damage to the victim as possible

These crimes also only ever happen once. Not dozens and dozens of times, committed by the same person, it is always so insanely messy that it's easy to pinpoint the who, how and why. Open and shut cases really, just another Tuesday

But when he looks closer? It feels…. Sterile, Methodical, Planned out, scripted, like hitting replay on a particularly interesting scene in a show

This? This has all the showy, over-exaggerated nature of Gotham's greatest rogues, down to the last detail, to the last drop of blood. but it's missing the rogue

It has all of the signs of an attention seeking psychopath, but none of the drive to follow through. To take your rightful credit

Normally such a passionate crime would have someone of equal magnitude behind it. The Joker and his killing Jokes, Ivy and her Eco-terrorism, Bane and his hulking demeanor, Two-face and his double standards-

The point is, there's always a show before the Finale, but with you? He only gets a glimpse at the film before the end credits roll.

It’s like you're diverting where your real motivations lie, like this is you holding back.

It’s driving him up a wall

Your really not making this easy for him, ever your fathers child

Besides that, I'm gonna end this with a few interesting points I thought of that are more difficult to go into more detail rn

Reader is pretty okay with hanging out with Gordon mostly to be petty to Barbara

Of the mindset of “oh, you want my dad? Fine, your dad's mine now. Y oink-”

Later, this'll be a pretty big blow to Bruce's ego, bc like, that's his best friend, so how can he really be upset that Gordon stepped up where he failed? Won’t stop him from being mopey about it though.

It's also a hit to Alfred's as well, because how hadn't he noticed you growing so close to the commissioner? He though your pulling away from him for emotional support was just you growing up, not you looking for it elsewhere

Gordon has also gotten the closest to finding the reader out, completely by accident

It was one of those days and he was worried about your sour mood, so he figured he’d drop by your workplace, pick you up after your shift ended, and go get take out

Safe to say, he was not expecting to find you mid brawl with some random drunk in an alley only 4 blocks away from where you worked

He stepped in immediately, to your surprise and horror, but he… he checked you for damage instead of slapping you in cuffs, made sure you were okay before calling an EMT to the location, and the only questions he had asked were “Are you okay sprout?”

You thanked your lucky stars that it was the drunk who had thrown the first swing, had instigated the fight, that the camera from the corner store across the street helped solidify that it was self defense, that Gordon had shown up just before it switched to a grizzly murder, and not during.

Another side story could also be the reader getting weirdly invested in the case about them at some point, because they realized they had a copycat killer and it really pissed them off lol

#yandere batfamily #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfamily x reader #yandere batfam #yandere dc #gender neutral reader #gn reader #platonic yandere batfam #Serialkiller!reader #yandere dick grayson #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere damian wayne #yandere cassandra cain #yandere bruce wayne #yandere barbara gordon #yandere commissioner gordon #yandere james gordon #this wasn't supossed to be this long oh no

244 notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 1 year ago

Text

ೀ⋆OCT 23RD JENIFER'S BODY ━━ eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking. there’s something weird going on with you. you’re like…actually evil. not college girl evil, and it’s kinda hot. (5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, friends to lovers (?), mentions of death/murder, demons, gore, choking, gags, marking, blood play, knife play, creampies, cockwarming, monsterfucking, rough sex, unprotected sex, demon + fem!reader, monster-hunter!kirishima.

୨୧ — director’s note. back again for another week! sorry for the delay on this one! it's for sure one of the spookier fics so pls proceed with caution and enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

what does it mean to die?

by definition and according to the oxford dictionary — to die means to lose the life of a person or organism. any creature that breathes (to all capacities) the same components as air as yourself, that moves, that communicates, that exists. but what does it actually mean to die?

death is a concept the most humans find difficulty in coming to terms with. there is fear in not knowing what comes after or how it might feel when the flickering flame of your life is finally blown out. do you really see every choice you’ve ever made flash before your eyes? does it hurt? what emotions do you feel? regret, sadness, pain or happiness?

life can be so fickle, yet is always taken for granted and in a number of ways too. those that exist at this very moment don’t dare to consider the long run, they live in the moment — yes. but do they appreciate it? and then there are those that take life, disrupt the beauty of its natural course and take away a being’s chance to see the world for what it really is. to ruin their chances of love, longing and laughter. how cruel of a human do you have to be to want to hurt someone in such a way?

these are the thoughts that have plagued eijirou kirishima’s mind as of late, haunting his every waking moment from the second his eyes open, every hour in between, and to the second that they close. death has been a constant theme across the campus of yueii recently. ever since the fire at the beginning of the school year had burned the college’s local bar — it’s been everywhere.

the disappearances, the murders, the deaths.

it started with that girl, ochako uraraka, from the college cheerleading team. she went missing after a match at home and was found in the woods later on. then there was kyouka jirou — some emo looking girl who liked to skip class to play her music obnoxiously loud outside of the campus library. her friends shinsou and kaminari had been deeply affected by that.

and as of yesterday, mina ashidou.

she was the kind of girl eijirou would have been into if it wasn’t for his long-term boyfriend katsuki bakugou. she was bubbly and loud, but never treated anyone without an ounce of kindness and warmth — mina loved mornings, loved being in class and loved caring for her friends. the redhead had gotten close to her over the course of last semester, mina having joined him for a portion of his major (sports medicine) that coincided with her psych course. during that time relishing in the gift of her friendship and the kind gestures she offered like coffees for nine AM classes or sharing her notes whenever kirishima found things hard to follow.

she was found dead in one of the newly built frat houses just north of her last class with eijirou kirishima. and like most of the other victims, it looked as though she’d been chewed out by animals, as if she was scared right up until her last moments.

everyone had begged the question, who would do such a thing? why would they do it? students begin to flee, head home despite the year of lectures and assignments ahead whilst parents sent angry emails demanding that the university do more to protect their children. the killer remained at large, without a pattern, without a trademark nor a trace of evidence. nothing that could give investigators the slightest clue was ever left behind.

the only coincidence kirishima could come up with, was the very fact that you didn’t seem to care about what happened to mina even though you had been planning a date with her just hours before her death. he distinctly remembers your conversation in the halls, how you’d barely paid the pink haired girl any mind until eijirou struck up a casual (albeit, a little, flirty) conversation with her somewhere along the line. if there’s one thing that kirishima knows about you, his best friend, is that you hate when he’s the centre of attention.

he’s known you for practically as long as he’s been alive, you’ve been friends for the same amount of time too and through years of emotional bonding — eijirou has noted so many little oddities about you. things that he once adored, at least he thought that he did. you hated it when your outfits clashed, you had always jokingly claimed that it made you look like siblings rather than lovers. you were always so possessive, it took you months to accept bakugou as a partner and even more for kirishima to finally get over you… having the inkling feeling that you were leading him on.

to him, you were everything. a blessing wrapped in the shape of a wonderful human being, worth more than any gold or money a man could find. he loved you more than he should have for a friend, something he was a little too ashamed to admit — he let you take advantage of the kindest parts of his nature because of it. sometimes it almost felt like you wanted kirishima, like you needed him despite swearing that you weren't into the burly redhead. though nowadays, there’s a sinister twist in to his gut whenever you’re around — a cool chill that settles in his bones and a pang of fright to his chest where his heart is. like a knife has sliced right through it.

you’re not the same as you were before.

he gets flashes, visions of thinks he feels like he’s not supposed to see — your eyes disappearing into your skull and reappearing in a twisted shade of dark red, deep enough to rival blood diamonds and rubies. oftentimes there’s a devil’s tail and demon fangs that drip with a viscous substance akin to the one that runs through his veins and carries oxygen to his lungs. and in the days after his visions, you seem more full of life, more confident and hotter than previous ones.

that’s when it hits him, like a sturdy building coming down on eijirou all at once. rose tinted glass shatters around him, knocking his skin — making him bleed as it’s shards form a truth that he has been dreading.

whatever it is that you are, whatever it is that you’ve become is the reason for all of this death.

eijirou kirishima’s best friend… you… are a demon, a demonised college student that kills college girls for sport.

in one of his dreams, eijirou sees you soaked to the bone in blood like you've drowned in a rouge tainted oil slick. you’re still as ethereal as you’ve ever been, perhaps even glowing — and even though it’s just a dream and he knows what you’ve done, he still finds himself that boy who years for you and your body against his. on top of his. moving with his—

shooting up from the comfort of his sheets, kirishima palms the dull ache at the forefront of his mind as he tries to rid himself of all thoughts regarding you. funnily enough, you’re already there, waiting for him practically naked at the foot of his bed as if eijirou had used a demon circle to summon you in the middle of the night. it never used to be like that, where he’d call for you and you’d actually answer.

you’ve been in his room more times than he can count — put posters up with him, had sleepovers, danced to old music on his stereo tapes. but this time isn’t the same. firstly, you’ve never been bare below the waist and secondly, you’ve never looked this insane or deranged. the hairs on the back of the redhead’s neck stand on end, his spiked pulse — elevated and alive steadily thumps through him so loud he’s scared that you might hear it… and yet….

“what are you even doing here? don’t you know it’s late?” kirishima yawns, stretching out his tired limbs as he holds his arms above his head for some relief in his taut muscles.

peeking a crimson eye open to look at you, the smear of blood at the corner of your plump lips doesn’t go unnoticed by him, though, it still doesn’t elicit the reaction eijirou expects from himself. the innate human desire to survive.

“i owe you an explanation.” the smile that you give him is too fast to be genuine, just barely reaching your big shiny eyes. there’s that feeling again, the knots in eijirou’s stomach — the ones that let him know something is off. “you know what i am, i want to tell you why.” your tone is sickly sweet like molasses in his ears, innocent as if you’re not a demon.

as if you’re not the one behind all of this death. you explain to kirishima in detail about the night a group of bandmates sacrificed you to satan so that they could go global. how they mistook you for a virgin sacrifice. how the devil resides within you now. you tell him about the blood of your victims and the missing people. how it’s the only thing you can stomach. how it makes you grow stronger, how it heals you, how much you love the new version of you. the murderous you.

he thinks you might have gone insane when you flip a lighter from your pocket to burn your tongue — showing how you recover almost instantly. it’s only then that fear strikes eijirou in the chest with the power of a lightning bolt — realising that he’s well and truly lost his best friend. to satan or to insanity.

poor, gullible, eijirou kirishima — for doubting that his best friend could be capable of such heinous crimes. and while you stand there, looking more alive and more beautiful than ever… he just can’t fight the feeling that makes him want to run.

the red head quickly realises that he’s no longer faster or stronger than you. for your demon powers have you reaching the bed before he can even throw off the sheets. your toned thighs swing around his waist to lock eijirou down to the bed, his back hitting the blankets with a dull thud and his wrist nearly crushed in your hand — wrestling his concealed knife away from your chest, just barely nicking you.

“why would you want to hurt me, eiji?” you comment softly, acting as if everything is as it were before you changed. “it’s still the same old me!” the both of you are breathing deep from where your old friend thrashes underneath you, his pupils dilating and casting a dark shadow over his terrified red eyes. “i really don’t want to hurt you.”

this could be it. he thinks. his life flashing before his eyes just like the stories say. “t-then don’t…” kirishima stutters, the pitch of his voice spiking as you shift on top of him — inspecting him as if he’s a piece of meat. you have him right where you want him, his blade under your control, his vital organs open and vulnerable. one wrong move and kirishima could be next on your list of life-force victims. “you don’t have to.”

“you’re right… i don’t think i will.” cooing, you take your free hand down eijirou’s muscled body, tongue darting out to wet your lips while your hips grind down on his swelling erection — painfully hard from the mix of arousal and fear coursing through his blood stream. “on one condition,” you continue on, moaning lightly at the sensation of your clothed clit catching on his cockhead. “you let me feed from you.”

“w-will you kill me?”

“only if you stop trying to kill me.” you’re not upset, from what he can tell — revelling in your best friend’s guilt and betrayal as his knife drags along your collarbones in a thin slice from where you’ve let your guard down.

a crimson gaze flickers to all of the vital points on your face — searching for your innocence and any traces of who you once were. seizing the opportunity hiding within your hesitation and the crack in your resolve, kirishima tries once more to shove you off of him but makes the mistake of trusting your facade. he’s quick but you’re quicker, raking your nails over his toned stomach until they catch on the waistband of his shorts. as soon as his erection springs free — wetly slapping against his stomach whilst precum tangles in the coarse black of his pubic hair, you slither your hot cunt down on to him.

straight to the hilt.

your thighs either side of his angled hips keep the redhead anchored to his sheets and your hands splayed across his stomach stop him from writhing away from your quivering cunt as it clenches around him. not that he’d want to. pull out of you, of course. eijirou grows delirious, hot under the collar at the feeling of his weighty cock pulsing against your biscuits, squishy insides. a tender whimper bubbles up on his slightly chapped lips, his pointed teeth sinking into the swell of his lower one to try and muffle the pathetic sound.

he can hardly believe this. that is best friend, whatever form you might be taking right now, is sitting on his fat, drippy dick like he’s always dreamed of. any guilt kirishima has pulsing through his veins (in regards to basically cheating on bakugou, his boyfriend, no less) is replaced by white hot blistering lust. it burns at his nerve endings, painfully tremors through his erection trapped by your welcoming wet walls. it leaks against pleasure spots in the form of sticky precum — white and thick as it paints your pussy while you cockwarm him.

kirishima swallows and his adam’s apple bobs, he looks up at you through his dark long lashes without a word — afraid this his voice will fail him and end up in a moan.

“please, eijirou,” you purr, completely devoid of any blame-worthiness or evidence of your wrong doings. you’ve killed people. innocent girls for your own bloodlust and now you’re where — seated on your bestie’s dick as if your crimes mean nothing. and with a pussy like yours, wrapped around kirishima so warmly and tightly, he might start to believe that you’re innocent too. “let me feed from you, promise i won’t hurt you. i just…need…”

leaning down towards his neck, your hips shift above his own, encouraging his heavy girth to sink deeper inside of you — walls rippling pleasurably around him. the sudden movement causes a low, and needy groan to take residence in kirishima’s chest — taking root in his lungs and other vital organs. his head tips back into the pillows, ruby, blood red locks tussled against their fabric as a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and another down his chin. tracing the ridges of his adam’s apple and the column of his throat.

his eyes don’t dare flutter shut, coasting over your every move as your lips ghost over his prominent collarbone and then his neck — pressing into his pulse pout where his heartbeat races, fear and adrenaline shooting through his body thanks to the steady thump of his heart.

you hear it all, the frightened tune of eijirou’s bodily orchestra only causing your mouth to water. “just need to taste you…” pouting, you nudge the point at which his chiselled jaw meets his neck. “need you.”

slowly but surely, your hunger reveals your truest form — and instead of the sweet girl eijirou kirishima once new, you sprout demon horns and a tail, nails that could tear a throat out, teeth that could surely cause carnage and a feral grin proving to the redhead that you would eat him alive. in contrast, your tone is sweet like syrupy honey or hard candy, the kind that eijirou loves — it’s salacious and full of wanton and he knows that he should resist. but you’ve always had a way of getting what you want out of him — he can never say no to you. you are his girl after all.

and no matter how hard he tries to escape your clutches — he will always be yours.

“f-fine,” kirishima barks, albeit shakily. “t-take what you need. just as long as you promise not to kill me.”

“pinky, baby.” comes your angelic coo, contrasting with the deep red of your own blood as it drips against kirishima’s golden boy skin. your hands massage over his sensitive pecs, smearing your hot blood over his nipples as they pebble under your fiendish touch. there’s a devilish spark in your pretty eyes once he agrees, and so, you latch onto his gorgeous, golden tanned skin ready to feed on kirishima to your heart's content.

as the pointed edge of your teeth sink into eijirou’s neck, his hips instinctively turn upwards and nudge his thick cock against your womb while layers of your juices spiral down each prominent blue vein that decorates his shaft. you bite down, hard, bruising him with shades of deep purple and midnight blue as if you’re creating a work of art. you suck the life from kirishima, close to draining his blood as if you’re a vampire fledgling with her first catch of prey.

there’s a weakness and a fuzziness that sits comfortably over eijirou’s brain, enhanced by the steady stream you set your hips — gently lifting and dropping them over the red head’s lap. the more energy, the more life force, that you drink from him — a mix of your blood and his glossing over your lips, the more turned on you feel. your cunt drips down his balls like a never ending tap, you’re so wet that a lewd slap echoes throughout your best friend’s bedroom.

even though you’re the one in control, guiding the hum of ecstasy that courses throughout kirishima's entire body, the waves that make him tingle from the top of his head to the tips of his toes — there’s no doubt that he has you losing your composure. the delicious burn of his girth against the tight rim of your entrance every time you sink down on the redhead drives you up the wall and pulls innocent whimpers from the bloody seam of your lips.

having him pressed up against your silken walls, bearing down on that special spot inside your swollen sinful pussy while you drain the man fry of his life force causes your jaw to go slack and tony spurts of his seed to coat your puffy folds. “oh fuck!” you drawl all high pitched, eyes disappearing into your skull as a bemused and blood-coated smile stretches across your angelic face. “you feel like heaven, eiji.” to pacify yourself, you lick over the puncture wound of your teeth that you’ve left against kirishima’s neck, grabbing him by the cheeks and tilting his head so you have access to the other side. “you taste so good, feel even better.”

“y-yeah?” kirishima asks, his voice shaky and extra husky from the lust. against his better judgement, clouded by all that is you — his rough hands fall to your doughy hips, manoeuvring you on his throbbing dick to his liking. “i-i like the way you fuck me, baby. but please…please move a little faster…”eijirou feels like he’s going insane beneath you chasing your sweltering and souse sex like a man following a mirage to quench his thirst. he behinds to push upward where you bounce your ass and pull off his cock, your hips rocking together fluidly.

his morals are completely abandoned, he could care less about the fact that you might be a killer, that you’re some kind of otherworldly being — especially when you ride him just like that. you release his raw bitten neck from your jaws of death, face and chin covered in blood and spit, while your hands dance down your chest and tweak at your nipples for your best friend’s viewing pleasure. he groans lowly at the sight, extending a thumb from your hip to reach between your doughy thighs and fat pussy lips so he can spread you wide open for him.

“g-getting bold, are we eiji?” you simper, ruby red lips caught between your pointy teeth when the rough pad of his thumb grazes your swollen clit as it peaks from between your folds. feverishly, you grind against kirishima’s digit, leaving a treacle-like trace of your sweet nectar against his hand. “so nasty. trying to get me off while i drain you dry. you m-must be delirious. so cute.”

he hates the way that you mock him, poke fun at how fucked up kirishima is for you. even though he knows that you’re slowly but surely killing him, drinking his blood while you take a seat on his achy, wet cock — he can’t help but give into you. eijirou wonders if this is how your other victims went out, if your precious tits swaying in their hot faces were the last thing they saw before you took them out. it’s a crude thought, but it only serves to turn him on even more. picturing you this way above others, your skin shining in the moonlight from the perspiration that glitters over you along with your glistening slit that leaves webs of your slick in his pubic hair.

while his thoughts escape him and his imagination runs wild, your next move catches the redhead by surprise. you grip his throat tight as leverage as you ride the man for dear life, pudgy thighs slapping against his strong ones, clit grinding against his pelvis and fingers. “fuck me,” eijirou begs, face twisted in rapture and guilt, cheeks as red as his hair. “fuck me harder, take what you want from me. j-just give it to me.”

it must be the lack of oxygen to his brain that obscures his view of you — the cold hearted killer on campus. because eijirou only sees his best friend, the girl he’s wanted his entire life, falling apart on his creamy cock as it bullies it’s way into your womb. he doesn’t care what you do to him as long as he keeps feeling as high as cloud nine.

the way you fuck yourself down on him right now, it’s like an out of body experience. you’re hot all over, out of control, objects and and Knick knacks around kirishima’s room levitating with the sheer amount of power and euphoria pulsating through your sweaty bodies as they move together in a shamefully slurry dance.

his head rolls to the side when you speed up, slamming your clenching cunt down on him with an erratic rhythm — a crude mix of your arousals flying about the place and wafting with the scent of metallic blood in the sex trained air. “you’re so needy, eijirou. bakugou hasn’t been taking care of you.” you tease through baited breath, throwing your hips down on him so that his milky precum spreads along your ribbed and sensitive walls.

you sink your teeth into his perfectly poised neck once more, leaving your mark and draining him of that life energy again. kirishima wails at your comment, chest heaving and eyes watering, his lungs threatening to explode with blistering lust. the more you bite at him, take his blood and his life, the more powerful eijirou feels. because you seem to have forgotten one key element to your newly found powers.

where your other victims were torn to shreds, the bites you leave on kirishima leave him with pieces of your demon abilities too.

“you can’t even respond, s’kinda pathetic, don’t you think eiji?” your words are harsher, meaner, and the red head can’t tell if it makes him want to fuck you or hate you more. “that you’re willing to let me sue you like this. take your life just like every pretty girl before you…maybe when i’m done with you, i’ll pick on your little boyfriend next—“

you truly are the fucking devil.

though everything you say is slurred and in the heat of the moment — you don’t have a chance to finish. every syllable ends in a salacious squeal when kirishima uses his newfound strength to wildly jackhammer into you. so fast and fucking hard that his weighty breeder’s balls smack against the jiggly flesh of your ass. his beefy arms snake their way around your shoulders, anchoring you to his girth while the bed creaks beneath the weight.

“will you fucking quit it?” in split second and surprising turn of events, eijirou has you flipped onto your stomach — sweaty chest to your back and cock so deep his pelvis barely peels away from your ass as it bounces for him. “you promised not to try and hurt me. but if you want it to hurt, then I’ll make it so.”

cockwarming him hardly prepared you for just how big and blessed your best friend is. chubby, fat and drooly as his cock glides through the sugar glazed lining of your gushy walls. every time your creamy hole clamps down on him, he threatens to crumble. like a mountain with an avalanche, his girth doused in your sweet essence and his breath shaky against your ear. kirishima grips at your demon’s tail where it sprouts just above your ass, stroking it lewdly just to hear you yowl for him.

the sheets below become victim to your pointed teeth, tearing through the soft linen in an attempt to calm your pornographic screams. “c’mon big guy,” you growl into the sheets, muffled, needy and amused, while you run your tongue over blood soaked teeth. “i thought you were going to make it hurt—“

“don’t test my patience, sweetheart,” your best friend snarls back as if you’re two animals fighting over land or territory — using his brute force, eijirou grips you by the back of your neck in a similar fashion to the way you did him, and yanks you onto your knees so that you’re both kneeling in the bed while eijirou fucks your wet little cunt raw. “if ‘m gonna fuck you, it’s going to be by my rules. so do me a fuckin’ favour and keep your pretty mouth shut, alright?”

the bed squeals louder than you do with this new position, eijirou angling his hips up to meet your g-spot perfectly — letting your eager pussy swallow him down. you lose control quicker than your brain can even realise, overpowered by the way the redhead brutally pounds into you, milky and heavy precum pearling along your ribbed walls like dew droplets in a black widow’s spiderweb. your sex welcome him home as if he was never meant to leave, clench on his bright red tip as you froth at his base and drop down his balls.

equally, your mouth foams with copious amounts of spit, your head hanging low while eijirou ruts you into a state of delirium. he licks the trace of drool seeping out of loud mouth and follows it up to your lips — generously feeding you his hungry moans and strings of spit. keeping you sedated, all for him while your tongues roll over one another in a fierce battle, neither of you knowing who will come out on top.

“you’re disgusting,” kirishima barks against your nape, giving it a near murderous squeeze — he fumbles around in the sheets and somehow locates the knife from before, pressing its cool blade against your skin with his free hand. you can just about hear him over the pap, pap, pap of his Rick plunging in and out of your slick walls. “don’t you feel guilty? huh? for…fuck, killing anyone?” the metal against your skin makes you moan, makes kirishima light headed and the whole ordeal so much hotter.

but you somehow manage to smirk in response, throwing it back into the red head aggressively— drowning in the pleasure. “don’t you feel guilty for fucking their killer?”

you grip the knife, pulling it closer to your vitality veins, light trails of blood from the wound smearing along kirishima’s skin meeting your skin. “why shouldn’t i kill you?”

“y-you don’t have a reason not to!” you battle through the thick drool on your tongue, hyperfocus in the precum and slick slinging between your sore thighs. you’re wrecked and ruined, losing your demon strength to your goodie two shoes best friend. “i’m a god, death doesn’t s-scare me!” with the way his dick churns you up, eijirou stretches you beyond your limits and preps you to take his impending heavy load. “f-fuck! right there, k-kiri!”

it’s so good that your demon powers activate on their own, your insides that burn bright with ecstasy grow so hot that they heat the knife pressed against you — branding eijirou’s hand with your claim until he drops the hot metal. he falters, the rhythm of his thrusts going sloppy while a creamy sound echoes between your sexes. you’ve changed and you’re right.

if eijirou kirishima really cared about your victims he would have turned you in and ended this all at the first chance. instead he dips into your demonic charm, afraid of what lies on the other end of this sinful ordeal. does he let you go? does he turn you in? does he keep his best friend here in his arms no matter what crimes you may commit?

“oh…oh eiji!” you whine, small and cute. “‘m gonna cum! please cum for me…cum with me.”

gone is his precious best friend, replaced with a slutty demon trying to selfishly such down his cock. lost in the moment of the ecstasy, you reach back and rake your talons across his skin in one last attempt to leave your mark and it’s only then that eijirou has had enough. using all of his strength, he roughly pushes you down to the sheets once more — forcing the sheets into your mouth to keep you quiet.

“i can’t stand you.” he reiterates, huffing against your shoulder while locks of his hair stick to your hot, sweaty bodies. “you’re so fucking greedy. so evil…”eijirou shifts to press his hand into the pillow next to your head, smiling sadistically at your muffled screams as he puts the last of his energy into making you cum just as you want. because you always get what you want out of him. “y-you don’t even deserve this.”

“b-but you’ll give it to me,” you pant around your mock gag, swallowing down thickly. “i’ll keep killing if i have to… you’ll still want me…”

even if it’s true, eijirou always wanting you, he can’t shake the feeling that you’re no longer the girl he used to know. used to love. his warm and kind persona you once knew is replaced with a similar demonic beast full of lust. “yeah i will and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” he threatens, continually bucking into you and nudging your g-spot in a swaying dance of sacrilege. “s-shit, you’re gettin’ tight. are you really that close, so soon?”

all you can do is nod — grabbing and biting at anything to keep yourself calm. the world around you shakes furiously and white blinds your gaze as you cum, juices splashing back onto kirishima’s meaty girth. “let me give it to you, hm? cream this pussy. make you mine like you want…” comes the red head’s last simper before the dam breaks and your demon cunt drains him dry, milking him for every last drop of his potent white seed.

the two of you are reduced to shallow breaths and heavy eyelids — exhausted from the loss of blood and sharing of demon powers.

but before you can turn around and sing kirishima your praises — the air is sucked from your lungs, a searing pain shooting through your back right through to the centre of your chest. thick, hot blood fills your lungs and the cavity in which they rest, it gathers at the corners of your cherry bitten lips and seeps through the knife wound kirishima has inflicted on you.

he’s quite literally stabbed you in the back.

he had no other choice, he couldn’t let you go on hurting people and tarnishing the image of his once best friend. you were different now, you had no place in the world anymore. it was your turn at death’s door, eijirou had decided.

“i… i’m sorry,” he says carefully, pulling out and away from you as you lay dying beneath him. “i… i couldn’t—“

with the last of your energy you offer eijirou kirishima a weak and bloody smile. “s’okay…” your breathing slows in understanding, and he lets go of the knife in your back. “so by any chance… have a tampon?”

of course you would find it in you to make a joke when faced with death. you weren’t afraid of anything.

and now, neither was kirishima.

with his newfound demon powers he wouldn’t let your death nor that of others go in vein. he would find the pro heroes who did his to you, made him do this to you, and make them pay.

a life for a life. a death for the same price.

1K notes · View notes