#lets appreciate the endless possibilities of angst we can get from this

[astorianyxkings]

First of all, I hate you for making me think about this. Secondly, I love you for making me think about this. I mean come on, the possibilities!!

Dick sitting alone in his apartment, because he refuses to go back to the cave. Why? Because Bruce is his dad and Dick won't be able to stop himself from telling him everything. How the the world froze when he pulled the trigger. How the man looked terrified at the bullet came straight towards him. How his partner looked shocked because Officer Grayson never shot someone before, let alone killed them. And he's the eldest, he's supposed to set the example. What kind of example has he just set? That he's a hypocrite? No. He refuses to go to the cave after patrol. It doesn't matter if he's got an infected stab wound, or if he's been dosed with fear toxin or anything. Nothing is worth seeing the look of disappointment on Bruce's face. It's been years since Bruce had ever expressed his disappointment in Dick, when they fell out after Jason's death. Dick doesn't want to relive that. Worse yet, what if Bruce expresses that he regrets adopting Dick? What then? How can he live on after losing his family–his father? Again. One thing alone is clear, he isn't strong enough.

Jason locks himself in a safe house. He won't go to his apartment because if Bruce even begins to think that something's bothering Jason, he'll show up to talk, boundaries be damned. Instead, he locks himself in a safehouse, shuts out all communication with the bats, Steph already agreed to cover his patrol route so he's in the clear. He just can't face him. Bruce. He can't face Bruce. They just started back talking. He's getting invited to the manor for stupid shit like family game night or movie night or breakfast. He's wearing the god damned Bat symbol. He's a bat again. And he just went and fucked it all up. It didn't matter of the man had the little girl hostage. It didn't matter that he threatened to put a bullet in his head. It didn't matter. All that mattered was there was blood on a bat's hands. And Bruce would never forgive him. Bruce would never. Not after all that's happened. He has to keep this to himself. Jason's selfish, he knows it. But this is his family. And he loves them. But now he can't face them. Or Bruce. And Dick. God, he was just getting used to having a brother again. The one he always wanted, dreamed about. Who protects him and annoys him. Dick will never forgive him now. The golden boy maintains the no kill rule stronger than Bruce, and he'll hate him. His brother is going to hate him, and what can he do? He's not strong enough.

Tim doesn't know where to go. He ends up at one of the vacation-turned-safehouse belonging to the Drakes. He notifies Orcale that he needs to work a case undercover and he has to do it alone, its the easiest way to get her off his back. In reality, what he's doing is alternating between panic attacks, crying and destroying whatever he can get his hands on. He throws a glass vase against the wall and its shattered pieces cut his hands. It should hurt but all he can see is blood. Blood of the people he killed so easily. Because that was the worst part, he did it easily. Effortlessly. He compartmentalized it so well that their lives didn't even register as something important to him. That realization is what starts the water works and next thing he knows he's ugly crying on the floor, sobbing and hiccuping through apologies, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Some of those apologies are for the people he killed, some are for his family. Because Bruce is going to disown him, he never even wanted him in the first place. He was just the kid he took pity on, he has Jason back, there's no use for Tim. And Jason. God Jason's going to be so disappointed, all this hard work to make Robin good, to do his predecessor proud, just to mess it up by killing people. Killing more people than Jason did when he was in the league and as Red Hood. And Dick. The one who believed in him, what's he going to think? He'll probably be disgusted, but'll try to mask it because it's Dick. Doesn't matter though, he'll feel the disappointment anyway. And he's not strong enough.

Damian ends up at an old shadows base. His mother showed them to him when she was last in Gotham, said he could use them to work through his struggles without Father breathing down his neck trying to get him to open up. Father–not Baba, he'll never let Damian call him that again–found out about one of Damians assassinations from when he was still in the League. It stings and burns like poison, destroying himself inside out. Damian left before Father could get a word in, before he could express his disappointment. Or before he offers to send him back to the League. The League isn't the problem, the problem is if Father sends him back, them he's truly given up on him. If Father sends him back then Damian will have just proven to everyone that he was nothing more than a conditioned killer. Cass killed less people than him, and she could easily give it up. Maybe because she never liked to kill...the same can't be said for him. Violence was always his peace. He'd figured that out when he was eight, watching Mara scream on the floor after he cut her face, so badly she almost lost the eye. Killing made him strong, made him feared. And an al Ghul had to be feared. Except....he kind of liked being a Wayne more than being an al Ghul. A Wayne doesn't kill, a Wayne doesn't demand respect through violence. But it doesn't matter, because once Father finds him and send him back to Mother, he'll no longer be a Wayne. And the worst part? His brothers will allow it. Dick would be so disappointed, he tried so hard with Damian. And Jason too, he took on a majority of the assassinations in the League so Damian wouldn't have too. And now he's gone and done this. Even Tim. Especially Tim. With him gone, so will half of Tim's problems. He's only ever been a nuisance to his predecessor. He's only ever been a nuisance to the family who welcomed him and that realization hurts. Because he isn't strong enough.

Bruce sits alone at his desk in the cave. Its quiet, sickeningly so. Only two of the four children living with him are asleep upstairs. Steph went home with Barbara, Luke and Kate are long gone, even Alfred has retired for the night. But Bruce can't sleep, not when his failure hovers over him. He's messed up. Two room upstairs are empty, they shouldn't be but they are anyway. Two other rooms have been empty for years but Bruce still knows this distance isn't normal. He's gone and ruined his boys. His sweet boys, his Robins. He's gone and made them so terrified that they won't come to him. So terrified that they would rather self isolate, from him, from each other. He needs to fix this. He stares at the four different tabs he had open, with four different locations. A pent house in Blüdhaven, a small apartment near Park Row, a condo on the east coast and an abandoned (not really) warehouse on the very outskirts of town. He needs to fix this now, before something happens and he loses one of multiple of them. Blüdhaven first, it might be the farthest but he needs to deal with the eldest first. As Bruce pulls out of the cave, hands gripping the steering wheel, all he can think about is the tears he knows he's going to see on his sons' faces. And he isn't strong enough.

guys.

Dick having to kill somebody on duty because his (and or someone else’s) life was in danger and him being absolutely terrified Bruce will revoke the adoption or disown him (“he will never forgive me. I’ll be alone all over again.”)

Jason in a kill or be killed moment freshly after reconciling with Bruce (he’s being personally invited to family outings by Bruce, being steps) and already grieving his relationship with his father. (“It was great while it lasted. I’ll miss having a family.”)

Tim being revealed to have killed 500-1000 people when he was with the league, and immediately moving around all him finances. Because he’s convinced Bruce will never let him step foot in the manor or WE again. (“Fück, would he let me get my personal items from my office? From my room? The cave? I should replace them all anyway… oh and there goes the trust fund too.”)

Damian being in a very similar situation as Jason when he was accused of murder, except he actually killed a man and absolutely freaking the fuck out because he knows Bruce would never forgive him for it. (“He almost disowned Todd, a son he chose because of this. I was basically left at his doorstep, as if the manor was a firehall. He didn’t want me, didn’t chose me. He will never want to see me again.”)

My brain ladies and gentlemen [and others :) ]

[endthedream]

a sweet melody

pairing: siren!haechan x human!reader (she/her)

summary: Insanity isn’t what she expected to receive when she joined her father and his crew on an expedition, full of men who think she isn’t capable of anything. But it’s all that she got after seeing nothing but endless water every single day. Maybe that’s why her mind started imagining a strange boy who finally shows her the appreciation she deserves. Maybe that’s why she ignores the way she can’t escape the trance he puts her in whenever he sings a melody for her. Or maybe everything is real, and the boy isn’t who he pretending to be.

words: 12.5k

story colour: green

some warnings:

it’s angst, the word “killing” gets mentioned a few times but nothing happens, heavy manipulation

masterlist of ‘nct dream as super natural creatures’

August 2nd, 1878

Day 25 on sea

I don’t remember the feeling of solid ground under my feet. Grass under my toes, touching stone walls or sleeping in a soft bed that isn’t rocking from the waves crashing against the ship.

I don’t remember the taste of air that isn’t filled with salt. The taste of anything other than fish.

I don’t remember not being nauseous every day, not fighting against boredom, not having to talk to myself in order to stay sane. Having to remind myself that I am me and this expedition isn’t pointless and could possibly make us rich until the day we die.

Father told me to write down my thoughts, he senses that I’m slowly losing my mind. But how can’t I? All I see, day and night, are endless expanses of water. No land in sight. We are miles and miles away from civilization. Alone with the sea and what lays beneath it. That thought can be frightening sometimes.

My brother called me a wimp, told me I should have just stayed at home and let the men handle it. I think he is the one who is a wimp. He’s scared of the power women can hold in a world that is overpowered by men. He doesn’t want me here, thinks I belong only at home like the other women in our city. But I don’t believe that even for one second. I have so much more potential than cooking and taking care of children. I’m an explorer, an adventurer, a researcher. I belong exactly here with my brother, my father and his crew.

I am so much more than all of them point me out to be and I know I can prove exactly that to them. I can prove that women can do all things men have been doing for years, maybe even better. I will prove it, even if it makes me go insane.

August 7th, 1878

Day 30 on sea

I miss my mother. I miss her comforting words, her warm arms and the smell of her perfume. Father misses her too. We talked last night while watching the waves under the moonlit sky. He told me he thinks she is watching over us, protecting us from unknown dangers. He told me that he thinks she is proud of us, especially me, for having the courage to explore the sea. I think he is right. Mother would have loved for us to do the things she always dreamt of doing. Exploring. She always wanted to know what lays beyond the sea, know the secrets behind it and write it all down.

Mother was the creative one in our family. She wrote poems, drew beautiful paintings and crafted useful things out of our waste. There was nothing she couldn’t do, no challenge she couldn’t face. I admired her for that, looked up to her and wanted to be like her. Father says that sometimes he sees a bit of her in me, a bit of her creativity leaking out of my aura, but most of the time I am like him. A big pighead who is way too nosy for their own good. But he also said that this trait will help me on our journey.

“We need people like you.”, he spoke as he looked into the sparkling reflection of the stars on the water. “People who are brave and people who are inquisitive. People who don’t stop when it gets too much and get driven by the passion of wanting to know what lays beneath the unknown. That’s why I want you here.”

“But why did you bring my brother as well? He is nothing like that.” My comment made him let out a quiet laugh, a sound I haven’t heard from him in a while.

“Because he can fight. We need people like that as well.”

Our talk was over after that. He went to sleep, and I stayed up, watching the stars in the dark night sky and thinking about his words. Does he really want me here or is he just being nice to me because I’m his daughter? The others on the ship are not shy to express their dislike for me. I’m not taking it to heart since they care more about my gender than my capabilities. But I care about my father’s opinion. I care what he thinks about me being on this ship with him and if he thinks that I should have stayed at home like everyone else is telling me.

I hope he didn’t lie to me. I hope that his words were sincere, and he actually wants me to be here. Because I think it would shatter me if he didn’t.

I figured I should talk more about my current mental state. Every day I try not to show how much it affects me that even though there are so many people on this ship, I’m still alone. No one wants to talk to me, no one cares about my opinion, and no one wants me here. I spend most of the day watching the ocean, listening to the waves and the birds stopping by. When I see something, an animal or even just seaweed, I write it down and draw a picture of it. It helps me a bit, I think, but I’m not quite sure.

Yesterday a boy, his name is Jisung, let me help him prepare a fish. It was the first time someone had spoken to me without throwing an insult at my head. I haven’t seen him much around the ship since he spends most of the time in the kitchen with his father. But he seemed nice enough, even though as soon as another crew member approached us, Jisung ran away from me, not wanting to be seen with the “intruder”. I wasn’t offended by it, at least I got to eat a nice fish for dinner.

But I’m wandering again. My mental state. I do think I’m getting a bit… well, crazy. But who isn’t? Everyone on this ship is going through the withdrawal of feeling solid ground under their toes and seeing anything other than salt water every single day.

I think we all are slowly losing it.

August 15th, 1878

Day 38 on sea

The air was nice today. It smelled fresher than before, kind of like we entered a new world overnight.

It just felt so clean.

Maybe that’s exactly what I needed, some fresh and clear air, something that removed the mess inside of me as well. Father said that fresh air always helps with an occupied mind. I guess his thesis has been proven right.

I should listen to him more.

He is old and keeps to himself most of the time, but when he actually does talk, it has an impact. Just yesterday two of the men on the boat accidently- in a drunken manor- knocked over two wooden boxes full of fish we haunted, leaving us with not much left. Father was furious, I could tell by the look on his face, but he kept his calm image. He went up to the two men and instead of screaming, he just stared at them for a few minutes. I think his eyes were what intimated them the most.

“You realize what you just did?”, he asked them, and I never heard his voice being so cold. They just nodded their heads, eyes widened like they were deer’s getting hunted by a wolf. “You realize what that means for the two of you?” Hesitation lingered in their demeanor. Clearly, they didn’t know what consequences followed their stupid mistake.

“Since you prevented us from having a week stock of fish, I’m going to do the same to you. That means limited access to food, no alcohol anymore and you are going to clean the boat from front to back. I want to see it spotless. Are we clear?” Again, their heads nodded faster than the wind blowing my hair away. They hurried off after being dismissed, leaving me standing there as father let out a long sigh.

It must be hard, having to be in charge of a bunch of grown men who act like children. And it must be hard seeing your own children having to face some of their own hardships as well. I’m not saying my brother is having a hard time on this ship, I’m saying in general. Someone filled with that much piled up anger, like my brother, must have some troubles they can’t communicate themselves.

It’s not like I have never tried. Talking to him, I mean. I did, plenty of times. But he never listens. And he never talks. I think it is the masculinity they force upon boys these days. It starts in school when they are just little fellows and continues all the way into adult hood. It teaches them not to cry, to hide their emotions and be strong.

I think that is stupid. I think that as human beings we were created to show our emotions. It’s our darn right to let ourselves feel everything freely without having to hide it.

But my brother is taking it seriously, says that the people in school would make fun of him if he’s showing weakness. Weakness. That is stupid. I think that hiding your emotions and building up this wrong image in which you hide behind a made-up strength, is what makes you weak.

I told him that and he just said: “And that’s why you’re a woman. You wouldn’t survive a minute being a man.”

And you wouldn’t survive a minute being a woman either. But I didn’t say that. I didn’t want to make him more upset, and I especially didn’t want to start a discussion about men and women with him. It is pointless, because no matter what I say, he will never see us as equals.

I wish I were closer to my brother. I wish he wouldn’t have to think about all this stupid stuff. And I wish I could live in a world where I could freely express myself without having to justify my every move.

I wish, I wish, I wish.

August 19th, 1878

Day 42 on sea

We saw dolphins today. They were swimming right beside our ship, jumping high up into the air and whistling at us. It was a magical moment, watching them happily swim, eager to interact with us. I even got to draw a picture of them. And for a moment I forgot that my mind is constantly spinning in a spiral. I just sat there, enjoying the short moment of peace, before it got destroyed.

Some of the men on the ship, clearly drunk, threw bottles at the dolphins, slurring insulting words at them. The dolphins swam away shortly after, but the bottles stayed where they threw them, in the ocean. I was so mad that I went up to one of the men, yelling some pretty mean words as well.

“Are you out of your mind, you drunk filthy piece of shit? Not only did you hurt poor helpless animals that were clearly eager to interact with us, but you also polluted the ocean with your stupid bottles of alcohol. Are you really that messed up in your head to think this was a good idea? I don’t even get why you are on this god forsaken ship. You are clearly not good for anything other than drinking your days away and only caring about yourselves. And you call yourself a man. You are nothing but a pathetic little boy, wanting everyone’s attention. You disgust me, you pig.”

I can��t remember much afterwards, only the stinging feeling against my cheek, a foot against my rip cage and someone yelling to stop. I woke up not long ago. The ship is quiet, so I assume it’s already in the middle of the night and everyone is sleeping, but I’m too scared to look. My body hurts, every time I move only a slight bit, a crushing pain curses through my bones.

When I close my eyes, everything is spinning, so I don’t close my eyes anymore.

I don’t regret what I said to that man. I don’t regret standing up to myself. I had to endure a worse treatment for a longer time and could handle it. It is not my fault that he couldn’t handle a bit of critique. All I hope is that this pain will go away soon. The pain inside and outside.

I’ve been thinking, maybe a bit too much. What if I change my way of thinking? What if instead of letting the ocean hurt me, I will let it heal me? What if instead of letting the loneliness consume me, I will let it lead me? Maybe all I have to do to get better is to change the way I approach this expedition.

And now that I have written it down, I will have to do it. My mother always said words only count when you write them on a piece of paper. In that way it is like a contract, unbreakable. It is like an oath you swear only to yourself, and those should be the most precious ones. She said you should always keep the promises you give to yourself, because after all, at the very end you will always have yourself to count on. Mother was a wise lady. A wise and confident woman, that I always looked up to. She was never afraid to speak her mind and stand up for her beliefs, I admired that side of her so much. And I know my dad also admired that.

Sometimes I forget that he lost his wife, I forget that he is still grieving. Because it looks so easy for him. It doesn’t look like he is compulsively taken of on a ship to “explore the unknown” just to get away from home and the recuring memories of the woman he loved so dearly. It looks like he created a team of the best- that’s arguable- men out there and took of to explore. He looks like a hero, not a broken man.

He hides everything so well. I wish he would have taught me how to do that.

August 20th, 1878

Day 43 on sea

Dad told me not to move too much. He thinks my rips are badly bruised and I need a few days, maybe even a few weeks to heal. We don’t have a qualified doctor on this ship, so I am just putting ice on my ribs and hope they will magically heal.

My brother even came to my room to ask me about my well-being. That was the last thing I expected to be quite honest with you. My brother and I have never had the best relationship. He was never a reliable soul, always easily influenced by others. He is a follower not a leader and that shows in the way he behaves towards others, especially towards me.

“Are you fine?”, he asked me, voice unusually soft. I could see it in his eyes, the pity that lies in them. It looked like he actually cares.

“Forgetting the circumstances, yes, I am fine.” He let out a long and deep breath, a hand stroking back a piece of hair that fell into his eyes. I should have asked him if I should cut his hair for him.

“Okay.”, he just answered, nodding his head before standing up again. “If you need anything, just call for me.” Without looking at me again, he left the room. All I could do after that was smile. It was the first encounter since we were kids that didn’t end up with me wishing I would never have to talk to him again. He may not know how to express what he is really feeling and is scared of voicing his own thoughts, but this small conversation showed me that he may not be all too bad.

August 25th, 1878

Day 48 on sea

I am going crazy. I sit on my bed every single day. I draw, I write, and I stare at the wall.

I can feel my thoughts circle around my brain, nothing makes sense. No one visited me in the past two days, and it makes the urge to get up even worse. I didn’t really have someone to talk to from the beginning, but at least I got to be around some living beings. I didn’t have to bear my own thoughts for such a long time. Now I’m not only alone, but I’m also lonely as well.

I had a nightmare last night. I dreamt about the ship sinking. It was absurd because the men drunk too much and their bellies got so bloated, it made the ship sink. But that wasn’t the frightening part. As I tried to swim for safety, my arms already hurting, I started hearing voices. Not just two, must have been a hundred of them. All of them whispering to me, but I couldn’t understand what they were trying to tell me. I kept swimming and swimming, far behind I saw hills. The voices didn’t stop. It felt like they were entering me, taking over every part of my body. My head felt like it was about to explode into a million pieces. They got louder and louder until I couldn’t take it anymore. I stopped swimming, letting myself sink. The water engulfed my whole body, entering my mouth and filling my lungs. The voices got quieter and quieter until there was only one left, loud and clear, telling me to “wake up”.

That’s when I opened my eyes, sweat dripping from my forehead and my breath uncontrollably fast. I never had a dream like that. I never woke up so disorientated. I wanted to tell someone about this dream, have someone explain to me what the meaning behind it is. I wanted to know if I’m really losing my mind.

August 27th, 1878

Day 50 on sea

I am losing my mind.

This can’t be real. I am writing this down to make sure I am wide awake and not dreaming.

I woke up from a noise. At first, I thought I was imagining it, because lately I’ve been imagining a lot of things. I wanted to go back to sleep, being exhausted from, well, doing absolutely nothing all day long, but then I heard it again.

It wasn’t just a noise. It was a melody, a very beautiful one. It sounded like the gateway to heaven, like it was sung by angels. And it made me feel drowsy.

I knew I needed to rest more, but something about this melody pulled me in. It made me forget the throbbing pain in my body and the events that happened days before. All it made me want to do was reach it, engrave it into my skin. It made me want to never hear anything else.

I was in a trance, no thoughts inside my head anymore.

So, I got up, walked out onto the deck of the ship to find out where this melody comes from. But when I reached the deck, I didn’t expect to see a boy sitting on the railing.

But it wasn’t an ordinary boy. Oh, no. Not like the ones I’ve seen in my town growing up. I can’t describe him in any other way than captivating. His jet-black hair softly swayed in the night wind, covering his eyes every few seconds. His cheeks adopted a soft rosy color from the coldness, contrasting the tan of his skin. And his eyes were almost as dark as the night sky.

I don’t know why I stared at him for such a long time, and I don’t know why he let me.

“You’re here.” Those were his first words. The first time I heard his voice. A voice that made time stop for a moment. I couldn’t hear the waves crashing against each other anymore, or the cracking of the old wood the ship was built with. I couldn’t even hear my heartbeat pumping against my chest. All I could hear was him. “I was waiting for you.”

“Who are you?” That was not what I wanted to ask him at that moment, but the sane part of my brain must have sensed that something wasn’t right. Something about the way my body reacted to this strange man was dubious.

“Haechan.”, he spoke with a soft voice, turning his body so that he fully faced me. A smirk was placed on his lips, only intensifying his tantalizing physique. “And you are?”

“Y/n.” My name came out in a mere whisper, fearing that my voice might have broken if I spoke any louder. I couldn’t stop staring at him, still having been sure that my mind was playing a trick on me or, well, still is.

For days no one has checked in on me, no one has talked to me more than five words. I’ve been on this ship for way too long seeing nothing but the endless nothingness of the sea. My mind has been plagued with recuring thoughts, never once having a quiet moment. Maybe this is the final sign. Maybe this is it. I am insane. So insane that I’m imagining a boy sitting on the rail of the ship just so that I have someone to talk to.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” Reaching one hand out, the boy signaled me to come closer to him. Every part of my body longed to take his hand and sit on the rail with him, but doubts started floating my brain.

“What are you doing here? How did you get on this ship?” Haechan, as I learned his name, just chuckled, a low sound that was so different from his honey voice. He looked amused at my asking, almost like he was making fun of me.

“Why did you come out here, Y/n?” I remember frowning at him, clearly feeling upset that he chose to ignore my question and ask one of his own. I felt upset that this boy, which I probably made up in my mind, didn’t show any respect for me at all. He, just like the others, ignores what I have to say, and I didn’t want to get treated that way, not after what happened last time.

So, instead of answering him, I turned around, heading back to my bed. But before I could even take a step, the melody I heard earlier started again. All the thoughts that I had in my mind at that moment flew away and I was, yet again, caught in a trance. It was like I couldn’t escape, even if I wanted to.

“It’s you.”, I whispered, but he still heard me. I knew that because the melody got louder, clearer. I closed my eyes, letting his voice enter every part of my body. I let it fill me up and shut me down at the same time. I let it rearrange my mind and mend my wounds, but I also let it cut me open and bleed me dry. I gave myself into the sweet penetration of his honey laced voice and wanted nothing more than to make all his wishes and desires come true. I would have given him the world if it was possible. My whole body felt like it was floating on top of a cloud, high up in the sky and there was no way of ever coming down again. I was trapped.

“Come closer.”, he murmured, voice deeper and almost impending.

“No.”, I quivered, suddenly scared of ever opening my eyes again.

“Please, Y/n.”, he pleaded, and I could nearly hear the desperation in his voice. “Just please look at me.” And so, I did. He was not sitting on the rail anymore, he was standing right in front of me. A small smile on his lips and one hand stretched out to me. “Come closer please. I don’t want anything else from you.”

And as I was about to take the step towards him, give in to his demand and the growing need inside of me to grant all his wishes, I heard a voice behind me, calling out my name and breaking the trance I was in.

“Y/n?”

Turning around, I saw my brother standing further away from me, dressed in his nightly gown. “What are you doing out of your bed? You should rest, your body isn’t fully healed yet.”

“I was just talking to…” But when I looked for Haechan again, no one was standing there anymore. It was like I was alone all along. “I don’t know what I was doing.”

Suddenly I felt all the pain rush back into my body, my bones burning with fire, and I let out a loud groan as I fell to my knees.

“Y/n.” My brother rushed towards me, helping me up with his arms around me. “For someone who always seems so smart, you really aren’t the brightest.” I couldn’t even laugh at his words, my mind was too focused on the pain all over my body.

“You must have been sleep walking if you can’t remember what you were doing up there.” My brother said as he laid me back down into my bed and reached into a bucket of water to put a wet rag on my forehead. “Sleep now, okay? I will stop by in the morning again and check on you.” All I could do was nod my head at him, exhaustion consuming my body. He looked at me one last time before he left my room again.

And now I’m sitting here, writing in my foolish dairy and reminiscing about the strange boy I met. I must have imagined him. How could anyone come up onto the ship? I didn’t see another boat, nor did any other member of the crew. And the possibility of someone appearing out of the blue is also not likely.

The only possibility that is left is that I am losing my mind. That I imagined all of it out of pure loneliness and frustration. This expedition should have been educational for me. It should have proven to all the men that I, as a woman, can do what they can do. That I can be an explorer, a brave one even, and that I have the ability to find something new. That is why we started this journey, because we wanted to discover unknown things.

But all I am doing now is proving everyone exactly what they think of me, that I am small and weak. That I am not an explorer and that I should have just stayed at home. That I am not brave and definitely not smart. I proved to them that I am fragile and well, mental.

But no one has to know about it. No one has to know what happens in my head or the things I imagine. No one has to know I am practically insane and desperate. I could just simply fake it. Isn’t that what everyone does? Faking confidence.

Maybe if I fake it long enough and convince everyone that what they are saying and thinking about me is wrong, I might convince myself as well. Maybe I can convince my brain I’m fine while pretending to be.

So, from now on, everything’s okay. I am not insane, and I certainly am not imagining weird things.

I am okay.

Everything is okay.

August 29th, 1987

Day 52 on sea

Everything is not okay.

Yesterday the boy didn’t show up again. I wasn’t exactly looking for him, since my father spent most of the night in my room making sure I wouldn’t ‘sleep-walk’ again, but I can’t lie and say I wasn’t disappointed not to hear his beautiful melody again.

I asked my dad if there is a word for the feeling of craving for someone, for feeling like the person took a part of you with them when they left and you long to be reunited with them. When all your thoughts are consumed with them, and your body is itching to be in the mere presence of that person. But also fearing the actual return of that person and the power they hold over you and your emotions. He told me it is called “withdrawal”.

“It is mostly referred to drugs such as alcohol.”, he explained to me as he tried to brush out the knots in my hair. “But I think it can be applied to humans as well. You know, sometimes we long for people we can’t have or people that aren’t good for us. We see the signs, but we ignore them. We give in to the sweet yearning and get hurt in the process. But if we don’t give in and the yearning grows stronger, we crave it even more. We think about the person every day, imagine their scent, their eyes, their voice. We imagine them being in a room with us, talking and laughing with us. We do the things that are most painful to us just to have what we long for, even if we know it’s not good for us. And it hurts, physically and emotionally.”

I turned around to look at him, inspect his face and read what he was feeling when he said those things. “It sounds like you have experience with that feeling.” My father just shrugged and at that moment he looked older. He looked like an old man who has been through too much in his life. A man who deserves a break.

“I’ve been around much longer than you, dear. There were mistakes made and hearts torn, but it all worked out at the end.”

“How?”, I ask, curious as to how such a sad feeling still turned into something good.

“Because I got you, and your brother. That’s my happy ending.” I wanted to cry. I wanted to storm into his arms and never let him go. But I didn’t do any of those things. I just smiled at him, nodded my head and hoped that was enough for him. Because while his words filled my heart to the brim with love, my body still ached, not from the pain but for the boy I only met once in my life.

That’s why I tried to ignore the melody a few hours ago when it started again. Father went back to his bed a few minutes before, wanting to get some well-deserved sleep, leaving me alone in my room. I, as well, wanted to get some rest, but then I heard it. It was loud and clear, and more beautiful than I had remembered it to be. Almost immediately I felt my whole mind switch, forgetting the conversation I had had with my father. All that was in my head was him, Haechan.

I wanted to see him, no, I needed to see him. I felt lost without him, so empty and incomplete. I felt like my world wasn’t spinning correctly, time was going backwards, and the stars were falling out of the sky. Nothing felt right anymore. Not until I was with him.

I reached my door, but before I could open it something woke me up. Not from a dream, but from a trance. A smell, a very familiar one. It took up all my senses and brought me back to reality.

I realized what I was about to do and quickly sat back down on my bed, not daring to even set a foot on the floor anymore. It was frightening, what I felt just then. The longing I felt, just from one simple melody. I don’t know this boy, why would I feel so strongly about him? Why does he have so much power over my emotions?

His melody got louder. For a moment my head felt like it was exploding. He sounded sad, sorrowful. It broke my heart into pieces hearing him so vulnerable, longing for me the same way I was longing for him. But I didn’t give in. A part of me, I don’t know which one, knew it was wrong to see him again. So, I stayed on my bed, legs tightly pressed against my chest and my hands on my ears, trying to cover his despairing voice.

10 minutes ago, it stopped. It just went away, like it was never there in the first place. Curiosity almost got the best of me and wanted to check if he really left, but I was too scared, I still am.

I don’t know what he is doing to be, why he is here and why he is targeting me. But I know that whatever he is doing, it can’t be with good intentions. A person that makes another person feel such outrageous things, can’t be here for anything good.

Maybe it shouldn’t matter so much. Because, after all, I made him up. He isn’t real so whatever he is doing isn’t going to hurt me. I think my mind is reflecting this pain on me to make sense of why it’s slowly decapitating. It’s trying to distract me from the actual damage in my brain.

At least that is the only logical answer to all of this. Because anything other would be, well, crazy and I’m not crazy. I might lose my mind, but I am not crazy.

August 30th, 1878

Day 53 on sea

Maybe I am a bit crazy, and reckless, and irresponsible and plain stupid.

“You left me standing here for a long time yesterday. I missed you, darling.” But I couldn’t help myself but visibly relaxing as I heard his voice again.

It was all I could think about all day long. Him and his melody. I wanted to feel it again. Feel it in my veins, feel it shutting out all the thoughts in my head. I just wanted this bothering craving to go away. I think it got so bad that even Jisung, someone who barely talks to me, noticed it.

“Are you okay? Don’t you like the food?”, he asked as he watched me stare at the food in front of me.

“Oh, sorry. It’s not the food, don’t worry. I just didn’t get much sleep last night.” I gave him a little smile, grabbing a fork and shoving some food in my mouth.

“Is there a reason behind it? I hope it wasn’t me.” Jisung looked a bit guilty as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I spent the whole night cooking because I also couldn’t sleep. I hope I wasn’t too loud and kept you awake.”

“Oh, so that was what I smelled yesterday.” Internally, I couldn’t help but to be grateful for the boy sitting in front of me. After all, was he the reason why I didn’t give in to see Haechan. But I couldn’t tell him that. I was already glad someone decided to speak to me, I didn’t want to ruin it by my insanity. “But no, that was not what kept me up. I mean I smelled it, but I just had too much going on inside my mind to rest.”

The boy just nodded his head, shoving a fork full of food in his mouth. “Care to share some of your thoughts?”, he says with his mouth still full of food. He looked like a child in that moment, with his eyes wide and his mouth dirty with crumps.

“Just thinking a lot more about my mother lately.”, I told him, only half lying. Mother has been on my mind a lot lately, but that obviously wasn’t the reason why I couldn’t sleep. “I miss her. I mean I always miss her, but being so far away from home just makes me miss her more. You know, I see her everywhere. In the books I read, the words I write. I see her in the ocean, feel her in the air and smell her in every scent. It’s bizarre.”

“No, it’s not.”, Jisung disagreed, putting his fork down and propping his elbow up on the table to lean his face on his hand. “I miss my mother too. I mean, she isn’t dead, but her and my father are no longer together. She left with my sister, my father kept me, and I haven’t seen her in three years. I miss her too sometimes. But I think I miss the things she did for me more than I miss her. When I was a child, I always had trouble falling asleep so she would always tell me a bedtime story. I think that is why some nights I can’t seem to fall asleep.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Jisung. Next time you have trouble sleeping just get me. I can also tell you bedtime stories.”

He nodded yet again, showing me another one of his smiles. “Thank you, Y/n. And you know what? I think you are really brave. I wanted to say that to you earlier, but I never had the guts to actually do. I think that we can all be grateful that someone like you joined this expedition. We really need more smart crewmates on this ship.”

But I don’t think I am that smart anymore. I don’t think I even deserve to be called smart anymore. Because every single thing about the decisions I make is anything other than smart. And as I looked into the deep brown eyes of the boy in front of me, that only got confirmed.

“No answer? No ‘I missed you too’?” His voice had an alluring tone, soothing all the wounds inside me and doing things to my body I am too embarrassed to admit. “What a shame, sweet girl. I was pretty sure I could sense your longing for me yesterday. Maybe I was wrong.”

I didn’t know what to answer. And I honestly am glad I didn’t, positive that my voice would have come out in nothing but a pathetic whisper. Haechan was walking closer to me again, reaching his hand out again to hover over the skin of my arm but never touching me.

“Can you feel that?”, he whispers, eyes never leaving mine. “Can you feel the goosebumps slowly forming on your skin, the shiver down your spin?” He waited for me to answer him, but all I could do was nod. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Yes.” I answered him, voice cracking with that one simple word. “Yes, I can feel that.”

“Good. That is exactly what I want you to feel.” He took a few steps back again, so he was leaning against the railing. “Why did you decide to come here tonight? Couldn’t get enough of me?”

I just shrugged my shoulders, not really knowing myself what the actual reason behind me coming to see him again was. “Why do you keep calling for me?”

“Calling for you? How exactly am I calling for you?” Cocking his head to the side, still wearing a smirk on his lips. But I don’t want to get too detailed about his face, still feeling a bit embarrassed of the things I felt in that moment.

“The melody your singing, it’s for me. You are calling me with your melody.” A chuckle left his lips, melodic like his voice.

“How can you be so sure of that? What if I just like to sing pretty melodies?” His question sounded so innocent and for a moment I was uncertain about my statement, fearing I might have misinterpreted everything. But I knew what I was feeling. I knew that his melody was meant to be for me and no one else. I know it might sound crazy, but the thought of him singing this melody, my melody, for someone else felt unsettling.

“Because if you sung it for someone else, they would stand here instead of me. No one else is responding to your melody, only me, so it must be for me.” For a few seconds there was nothing but silence around us. Haechan wasn’t saying a thing, seeming like he was thinking about his next words. And I didn’t say anything, fearing that if I might, he would disappear again.

“You’re right.”, he finally spoke up. “It is for you.”

“But why? Why do you sing this melody for me?”

“Because I wanted to meet you, Y/n. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I got to have you. I got to be with you. I craved nothing more than to talk to you, to simply be blessed to be in the mere presence of you. I am longing for you, the same way you are longing for me, my love.” I couldn’t believe what he was saying to me. His words filled up my heart, and I started feeling lightheaded.

He was craving for me. He wanted to meet me. Everything that I am feeling towards him, as strange as those emotions are, he is feeling for me as well. His words were the most beautiful, heart wrenching thing I have ever heard in my inter life. I felt lucky to be seen this way, to be wanted this way, never actually having had someone tell me that before.

He really went all this way, just to meet me. Singing this melody, coming up this ship. But isn’t it a bit strange as well? I remembered not seeing another ship anywhere nearby. Where did he come from? How did he see me? Questions started filling my mind again, shaking me awake.

“What did you mean when you said you wanted to meet me from the first time you saw me? When did you see me?” I could see his body tensing up. Maybe he wasn’t expecting such a question.

“I can answer your question, but first you have to come with me. Please, Y/n. I will tell you everything, just please come with me. I don’t want to be apart from you anymore.”

“Haechan.” I looked at his hand, which was reaching for me again, motioning me to take it in mind. “Where do you want to take me? I mean there is no other ship anywhere near.”

“Y/n, just trust me, okay? Come with me and I will make the thoughts in your head disappear. I will make everything heal for you.” His hands hovered over my arms again, almost as if he couldn’t touch me. I wanted him to. I wanted him to touch me so badly. But I could see that something in his eyes had changed. They were darker, more desperate and demanding, and I knew it was my time to leave.

“I can’t.”, I told him, taking a few steps back. “I have to get up early tomorrow.” And with that I left, not once looking back as I walked back into my room.

I don’t know if what I did was right, or if I upset him with my behavior.

All I hope for is that he isn’t mad at me and will forgive me when he comes back. If he comes back.

August 31st, 1878

Day 54 on sea

He did in fact come back.

“Missed me?” There was something more gentle in the way he was talking to me today. Something more reserved.

“What if I did?” That made him smile, not smirk like he normally does. Haechan showed me a bright honest smile. And all I could think about was that he never looked more ethereal than in that moment.

“Then I will be highly pleased, my love. You know why?” I shook my head as a no, waiting for him to continue his sentence. “Because I missed you too?”

“You did?”

“Of course, I did. You were all I could think about all day long, pretty girl.” He stayed a bit further away from me too today and I wondered why. I asked myself if he didn’t want to be close to me again or if he felt rejected after what happened yesterday. “I couldn’t stop thinking about your sweet smile, your beautiful eyes and your lovely voice. I couldn’t wait to see you again.”

“Why don’t you touch me?”, I said out of the blue, catching not only myself, but him off guard as well. “You never touch me. You only hover your hands above my skin. Why?”

He smiled again, sweet and kind. “Because if I touch you once, I will never be able to stop again.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” He only shook his head, turning around to face the stars instead of me. But I didn’t want him to look away, I wanted him to look at me, because when he does look at me, I can feel again.

“I am sorry about yesterday, you know? I am sorry I was too intrusive, I let myself get caught up in my emotions.” I had to process his words, that being the last thing I thought would come out of his mouth. Never once had a men apologized to me for anything. I am so used to getting treated like nothing and it being normal in a society like the one I grew up with. Never once has anyone cared so much about me to consider my emotions and apologize for a mistake.

“Thank you.”, I just whispered, trying to swallow the tears. “That means a lot to me.” I decided to join him at the rail, watch the stars with him for a little while.

“Do you know that I think you are not real? I think I am imagining you, because for the past weeks I have been slowly losing my mind. Seeing the same things every day, not talking to anyone and having to deal with all those thoughts in my head. I think I started imagining you so I could just stop time for a while.”

“But I am real.”, he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I am real. You are not insane, and you are definitely not imagining me. I can prove that to you. Just take my hand and you will see.”

“Why does that feel like a trap?”, I asked him, watching his face, trying to read his emotions. But it stayed the same. His smile didn’t butch for a second and his eyes still held the same gentleness.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Y/n. There is no trap. I am just offering you evidence to your lingering questions about your own sanity. I am just trying to be nice to you, but if you don’t appreciate that.”

“No, no I do. I am grateful for your kindness. You just sounded so demanding, and it made me doubtful.”

“I am so sorry, my sweet girl. It was never my intention to make you doubt me. That will never happen again, okay? All I want is the best for you. Nothing more.” I just nodded, eyes facing the wooden floor of the ship. “I am going to tell you the story of why I so desperately wanted to talk to you, since I didn’t yesterday. Maybe that will cheer you up a bit again.”

“I wanted to talk to you because I was mesmerized by you. Because there are not a lot of people out there like you. People so willing to learn and to explore. I never met a woman like you, someone so strong minded and independent. I loved how you never let anyone talk bad to you and I love how despite the negative things the men on this ship say about you, you still stay here. You prove to them every day that you are capable of being on such an expedition and that you are more qualified than they could ever be. And I just knew I had to talk to you, I had to have you in my life.”

And it was like he knew what I needed to hear. Like he knew my deepest darkest thoughts and all the things I was craving to ever be told by someone. It was like he spoke right into my soul and built up this newfound strength. I felt empowered, I felt loved. But yet again, I was also wondering how he could know all those things about me.

“Why do you know all that, Haechan?”

“I told you already, Y/n. I was longing for you.” It didn’t make sense. His answer didn’t make any sense. Was he avoiding my question? Or maybe he understood the question wrong, thinking this was an answer that would satisfy me. But it didn’t.

“That doesn’t answer my question. How can you possibly know about all those? We just met.”

I could hear a sigh leaving his lips, the long and frustrated kind. I am familiar with those, having heard them a thousand times from my father and brother. And I asked myself if I, yet again, upset him with my question. If I should have just kept quiet and appreciated his kind words and moved on from the topic.

“And yet again you don’t appreciate my kindness. All I do is be nice to you, proving to you that I am real and trustworthy, and you still doubt me. Don’t you know how much that hurts me? Do you?” His voice rose visibly, nostrils flaring and eyes growing wider. Haechan wasn’t looking like himself at that moment. He almost looked inhumane.

“I am sorry, Haechan. Please don’t say that. I do trust you. Please, I’m sorry.”, I started begging him, reaching for his hand, which he pulled away. “Please.” Tears filled my eyes and my whole body started hurting again, like it was slowly breaking apart from the inside out.

“You hurt me, Y/n. I don’t think your apology can fix this.”

And this time it was him walking away, disappearing into the darkness, and leaving me standing at the same spot, mourning for him like I had just lost a person to death.

September 1st, 1878

Day 55 on sea

I could see the surprise on his face when he saw me standing there, waiting for him this time, not needing his melody to be called. But the look of surprise quickly faded away and a smirk replaced it instead.

“I see you don’t even need my melody anymore.” It almost sounded cocky the way he said it.

“I wanted to be here first so I could apologize to you.”, I spoke the words with so much sincerity, wanting him to believe me and see that I genuinely mean the apology. “I am really sorry for hurting your feelings yesterday. It was never my intention. All I want to do is make you happy, Haechan, and I am so sorry that I failed to do so.”

He looked at me for a few seconds, brows raised, before he shrugged his shoulders. “What will you do if I don’t accept your apology?”

I didn’t hesitate when I spoke my next words. “I will beg for your forgiveness. I will beg until you accept my apology. I will do anything you want me to.”

“Anything I want you to?”, he asked, and I just nodded my head at him, desperation fulling my actions and probably written all over my face. “I will hold onto that one.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?” Haechan shrugged again, taking a few steps forward into my direction. Looking at him in that moment, I didn’t think he looked hurt. Normally people have this look on their face when their feelings got hurt, quivering lips, wide and sad eyes, body folding in on itself. But Haechans eyes were almost narrowed, and he was towering over me, almost like he was looking down at me. My father once told me people do that to prove their dominance over the other person, but I don’t think that was what Haechan wanted to do in that moment. Or was it?

Maybe Haechan is just like my brother, a person who has to hide their true feelings behind a stone-cold face to demonstrate strength. Or maybe he just didn’t want me to see him hurt by me to make me feel less guilty. Because I was and still am feeling bad for making him feel that way yesterday. I still regret my words and wish I would have just shut my mouth. I should do that more often, shutting my mouth in some situations. It would have saved me from a lot of things.

“I’m still thinking about it. Maybe I will tell you my answer at the end of the night.” That gave me some hope. Even though he didn’t yet accept my apology, he still wanted to spend time with me and that was more than enough for me.

“I saw you talking to that Jisung guy again today.” Haechan was still towering over me, hands in the pockets of his pants and eyes narrowing in on my face. “What is so intriguing about him that you talk so much to him?”

“Did you watch me?”, I asked him, shock lacing my voice. Jisung and I only talked in the kitchen today. I was hungry since I overslept in the morning and didn’t have breakfast. When I walked into the kitchen to grab myself something, Jisung was standing there, preparing the fish for dinner. We spent some time together, me eating my food and him cooking more. There wasn’t a lot of conversation, we just basked in the presence of each other.

“I asked you a question first.”, Haechan voice got lower again. I could only describe it as sinister. There was an undertone in that one small sentence, something that told me I should not say the wrong thing. So, I took a moment to gather my thoughts, fight through the mess in my head and find an answer that will satisfy him.

“He isn’t interesting to me.”, I tell him, keeping my voice clear and loud. “He is just the only person that talks to me when you aren’t here. There is nothing more to it.”

“It didn’t look like that earlier, sweetheart. I thought the two of you looked very cozy in that kitchen, sneaking glances at each other.” He let out a sound similar to a ‘tsk’ and shook his head in a mocking manner. “Am I not enough for you anymore? Do you go around and search for other men when I’m not around? Are you so desperate and needy for attention?”

“No.”, I whispered, feeling even the small last bit of confidence leaving my body. Haechan has a way of making me feel weaker and weaker, draining every last thought out of my head and making my body his. “No, Haechan.”

I felt my legs give him, sinking to my knees. My body felt so heavy but at the same time so light. Haechan kneeled down in front of me, lowering his head so he was looking right into my eyes. “You can’t talk to other men, Y/n. You are mine only, do you understand?” All I could do was nod my head at him, but that didn’t satisfy him. “You belong to me, right, my sweet girl? I need you to say it.”

“I belong to you.”, I mumbled, not having the strength to fully open my mouth.

“That is right. You belong to me, your body belongs to me and even your mind belongs to me. You are all mine, pretty princess.” He took up all my senses. I could only see him, smell him, hear him, feel him everywhere. Like only he excited in this world and no one else.

Haechan leaned forward, his lips brushing the skin of my ear. I could feel his warm breath on my skin, and it sent shivers down my back. “Now come with me, darling. Take my hand and come with me. I will make sure you remember me forever.”

I reached for his hand, fingers brushing against each other, but before I could close them around his, a bright light shined a bit further away from us. Everything happened so fast after that. I heard footsteps, a voice and suddenly I felt empty. Haechan was no longer kneeling in front of me and right as I wanted to look for him, my body gave in, and I fainted onto the cold wooden floor.

I don’t know how I got into my bed, and I don’t know who brought me into my bed. All I know is that the moment I woke up again I craved Haechan even more than I did before and I know that the next time he asks me to come with him, I will do so, without any hesitation.

September 2nd, 1878

Day 56 on sea

Everything changed today. Everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I felt. A lie.

I can’t stop crying. My tears are flowing like an endless waterfall. I’m a mess, a disaster. How could I let this all happen? I thought I was smarter than this. I thought I was stronger than this. But I was blinded. I was corrupted, manipulated, used.

I feel dirty, like I haven’t washed in weeks. But I just did. I spent a long time trying to scrub away the dirt I felt, trying to scrub away the shame I felt. I put everyone, especially me, in danger with my reckless behavior, with my blindness, with my incompetence. I am a failure.

I spent the whole day ignoring everyone around me, not even looking at anyone that passed me by. I wanted to desperately prove to Haechan that I only want him and no one else, that everyone on this ship doesn’t matter to me. All that matters is him. I was hoping he was watching me again, being proud of me.

But unfortunately, there was one person I couldn’t avoid even if I tried to.

“You wanted to speak to me, father.”, I said as I entered my father’s office room. I have never been in that room, not once over all these weeks. The room was scattered in books, empty bottles and maps of the sea. I always imagined the room to be neater, at least that was what my father always seemed to be. But my mother told me once that your room reflects the mental state you were in. Maybe my father was also struggling with his sanity.

“Yes.”, he answered me, looking up from his book. “I wanted to see how you are feeling, after your little incident yesterday.”

“I’m feeling fine, father. Must have been me sleep walking again. There is nothing to worry about.”

He just hummed, his face showing the uncertainty he felt because of my words. My father mustered me for a few seconds, waiting for even a little muscle to twitch in my face to show him if I was lying. But I kept a straight face, looking him right into the eyes. “I am thrilled to hear that. And we will find a way to fix your nightly problem.”

Father went back to reading in his book, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, the curious part of me wondered what he was so engrossed in. I always loved the books my father reads, knowing that they are filled with new knowledge. “What are you reading?”

He held up the book, showing me the cover. “Knowledge about the mysteries of the ocean.”, I read out loud, furrowing my eyebrows at the title. What an odd book, I have never heard about that. “What mysteries are listed in the book?”

“Oh, just some fisher men tales. Mermaids, kraken, leviathan, sirens. All those tales which warn everyone on ships about the dangers of the sea.”

“Sirens? I have never heard of them. What are they?” My father turned his book around, showing me the page, he was just reading. On it was a drawn picture of what looked to be a half bird, half fish creature. My stomach started to turn, the longer I looked at it, frightened by its appearance.

“This book says that sirens are mythical creatures, half bird, half fish. Through their angelic singing they lure in fishermen to kill them. It is said that their voice lures them in, but their face is what makes the fishermen stay.”

“Their face?”, I asked, not believing that for a second.

“They put you in a trance with their voice and make you see whoever you most desire. They are insidious, malicious creatures, feared by everyone who ever entered the ocean. They are dangerous, Y/n.” He looked me in the eyes, as if he knew something I didn’t. As if he wanted to tell me more with the last sentence.

“Do you really believe they exist? To me that just sounds like fishermen making up excuses as to why they didn’t bring any fish home.”

My father let out a long sigh, head shaking. He turned the book back to him and stared at the picture for a few more seconds, before closing the book again. “You could be right, Y/n. I mean you have always been the realistic one in this family. But as long as there is no proof that they don’t exist, I will have to believe those tales. It’s better to believe and find out they don’t exist, than to not believe and find out they do exist.”

I couldn’t stop thinking about his words after I left his office. They kept spinning around my head, swirling and clashing against other thoughts. And they were connecting. My thoughts were connecting together, and suddenly there was only one thought left. One person in my mind, and not for the reasons he had been in my mind for the past few days.

But I didn’t want to admit that. Not even to myself. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t true. Those useless tales were nothing but fiction, made up stories to save the fishermen from embarrassment and disappointment. Nothing more and nothing less.

Because I knew Haechan. I knew he wasn’t capable of something like that. He wasn’t a creature designed to prey on innocent people. Or was he?

I couldn’t help but smile as I heard the familiar melody, as I felt it sink deep under my skin and erase everything inside of me. I loved the pain it inflicted on my heart, the way the melody ripped me apart into a million pieces. I loved how for the first few seconds everything stopped being important to me. Breathing, feeling, living. Nothing felt important for a few seconds. Nothing but him.

Haechan leant against the rail of the ship, hands in his trousers and a smirk on his lips. It almost felt like a déjà-vu. I remembered how I felt when I first saw him. Feelings that were once so innocent and unfamiliar are now unconditional and fierce. “My pretty girl.”, he whispered, and I felt the weight on my shoulders lift. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?”, I asked, taking a few steps closer to him. I was craving his closeness, his touch. I needed him to touch me, anywhere. I didn’t mind where.

“Ready to come with me.” My head was clouded, brainwashed by his beautiful voice. But wasn’t that exactly what my father told me, what he warned me about. “I can see your doubt in me, sweetheart. What is it that is plaguing your beautiful mind?”

“Do you plan on killing me?” I don’t know why I asked him that question. I don’t know how I got the strength to break out of the haze, even just a little bit.

“Killing you? Why would I kill you?” His eyes darkened and I could see his body language changing. I could see all of him changing. Haechan let out a chuckle before walking into my direction, stopping when he was right behind me. Brushing my hair back, never once touching me, as he leant down to whisper into my ear.

“I really wanted to kill you at first, my sweet girl. I wanted nothing else but to rip you apart.” My body shut down, letting me fall weakly to my knees just like the day before. I couldn’t keep my eyes open for more than five seconds. Haechan kneeled down in front of me, yet again and placed his hand on my cheek. Finally, I could feel him. I could feel the one thing I craved most, his touch. But it didn’t feel how I imagined it to. Instead of lifting me up and making me basked in comfort, it made me flinch. His touch made me want to never see the light of day ever again. “But how could I kill such a beautiful thing? You are my precious girl, aren’t you? So sweet and special.”

I wanted to run, get away from him. I wanted to do anything but to stay with him, but my body didn’t let me. My body stayed down on the ground, heavy and useless. “Does it hurt, love? Does my touch and my words hurt you?” He didn’t need an answer because he knew. He knew how every bone in my body felt like it was on fire as soon as he muttered those words. He knew all I wanted was to make this growing pain stop. “Just come with me. I will make the pain stop.”

When I looked up at him, I saw only a glimpse of him. His skin was pale blue, scales all over it, and his teeth were sharp and long. This wasn’t the boy I met a few nights ago, the boy who made me feel like I was floating on the clouds and the boy who gave me a reason to live. This was a creature, a monster. A siren.

“Go away.”, I croaked out with the last strength I had left in my body.

“Oh no, you poor thing. Don’t be like that.” Not even his voice sounded like the sweet melody I once heard. It didn’t give me sweet pleasure anymore, it only gave me pain. “You love me, or have you forgotten? Have you forgotten all the feelings I inflicted on you? Have you forgotten how good you felt when you were with me? I can make that come back. You just have to come with me.”

“Go to hell.” I didn’t know that this simple sentence could mean the end of my life because the next thing I felt was a sharpness going through my body. And I knew this would be it. This would be the last few seconds before I was gone.

“Y/n!”, I heard someone shout, loud and piercing. I opened my eyes, only to have my vision be blurry. I tried to move, look who that voice belonged to and if I was imagining it again. “Go away and never come back, or I will have you killed and each and everyone of you creatures on this planet.”

I took a hurtful breath and it felt as if my lungs were filled with broken pieces of glass. My eyes tried to stay open, but I didn’t have the strength. “No, Y/n. Stay awake. Please don’t leave me.”

Whiteness surrounded me, filling me up and taking me in. Silence. I heard nothing more than silence. I tried looking around, kicking and fighting as I was trapped in nothing but endless vastness. Far away from me I could see something, or someone waiting for me. I tried to walk towards it, reaching my arms out to grab it, but I never came close.

“It’s not your time yet, Y/n.” And before I could question those words, my eyes opened.

It took me a few seconds to regain my vision, seeing the familiar walls of my room. As I remembered just what had happened, I felt panic filling my body, my breaths coming out faster than normal and my mind spiraling in wild circles.

“It’s okay, Y/n.”, I heard the voice of my father first before I felt his arms around my body, pulling me tightly into him. “Your safe. Nothing can hurt you anymore.”

I looked up at him with wide eyes and my mouth agape. I felt like a little kid again, crying in the arms of my father after having a bad dream. Just that this wasn’t a dream. This is reality.  

“It’s okay. We are on our way back home. That creature will never find you again, we made sure of that, okay?” My father held me with so much delicacy, fearing he might break me. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone, or anything hurt you again.”

And I believed him. There in the arms of my father I believed his words. So, I closed my eyes, let the sleep consume me and hoped that this promise would be one he could keep.

September 10th, 1878

Day 64 on sea

I let the salt air take away all the scars of the past weeks as I watched the soft waves flow under the setting sun. This was the first time in eight days that I had the courage to leave my room. I couldn’t face the place where everything happened. The place where I almost lost myself.

I closed my eyes and imagined the soft grass under my toes, the chirping birds in my ear and the blinding sunlight in my eyes. I imagined biting into a sweet apple, feeling the fresh morning air on my skin and smiling at the veracity of the moment.

“Daydreaming again?”, I heard a voice in front of me, making an actual smile appear on my lips. A smile I haven’t let myself show in a long time.

“What brings you out here? Shouldn’t you be in your bed, sleeping like everyone else is?” Jisung just shrugged his shoulders, his hair softly swaying in the wind.

He showed me a sweet smile, sitting down beside me and taking one of my hands in his. “I am not going to ask you how are doing, since everyone else does that every day.” I nodded at him, grateful for not hearing the repeating question out of his mouth as well. “But I am going to ask you if you still feel the withdrawal, you told me about.”

My eyes filled with tears again and I tried my best to swallow them down. “Yes.”, I mumbled, looking down, too ashamed to let him see me this way. To let him see me so weak and pathetic. “Yes, I still feel it, every day. I long for him, and I know it isn’t right. He isn’t who he showed me to be. I know I was blinded by a trance. I was blinded by need. I know what I am feeling isn’t right and that he wasn’t right. But for a few seconds, for a few seconds every day, it felt real. For a few seconds every day I could just be. I could be me. I could forget the pain and my thoughts, and I could breathe.”

Jisung just nodded his head, not letting go of my hand, but he didn’t say a word. I appreciated that. I appreciated the quietness of him. Because as opposed to the others, he didn’t lecture me on my feelings. He didn’t tell me how it is wrong to feel the way I do and how I should have seen all this coming. He didn’t try to tell me how to move past this, or how to continue living my life. Jisung just stayed silent.

“Why are you awake?”, I asked him after a few moments, breaking the silence he gifted me.

“I couldn’t sleep. And the last time I told you about my sleeping problems, you told me you could tell me a story, like my mother did. A bedtime story to make me fall asleep.” I let the tears that still lingered in my eyes roll down my cold cheeks, as I nodded my head. “Will you tell me one?”

“Yes. Yes, of course. I will tell you any story you want.”

And so, I did.

I told everyone my story.

Bonus

“What took you so long?”

Haechan swam into the cave, brushing past everyone that was looking at him with expecting eyes. He ignored them all and just kept swimming.

“Answer my question.”, Jeno spoke louder this time, but Haechan just kept swimming. He didn’t care that everyone was waiting for him, waiting for him to fulfill his promise, to fulfill all the promises he had made for the past weeks.

“We had a fight.”, he told Jeno with a shrug of his shoulders, nonchalant about the other one’s questions. Haechan could see the disappointment and anger in the faces of everyone in the cave, and he couldn’t care less. He knew what he was doing was right. He knew it was necessary to go through all these lengths to get what he wanted, what everyone wanted.

“A fight?”, his friend repeated, skeptic lingering in his voice. “This isn’t a game, Haechan. We put our trust and time in your hands. How long until this plan of yours backfires? How long until they notice that their ship hasn’t been moving in days? How long until they discover us and put an end us?”

“Jeno.”, Haechan’s eyes piercing into the older boy, voice clearly stating a warning. “Have you lost all your trust in me? I know what I am doing.”

“Are you?” Everyone was looking at the two, anticipating the outcome of this long-awaited conversation. “You were the one promising us you were going to get us this girl. You were the one convincing us how much you were craving her and how much we should as well. And we have given you time, but all you do is play around. This isn’t a game, Haechan. This will determine our lives. Without her, we will not survive, and you are very well aware of that.”

“This is where you are wrong, my dear friend.” Haechan turned his body, facing all the sirens watching him. “This is a game, and I am the leader of it. This girl we are talking about is different from everyone we have ever had. This one is special. She isn’t easily fooled by my tricks, by my voice. She has a smart mind, that one.” A wide grin appeared on the siren’s lips, making him almost look crazy, and his eyes narrowed on his friend yet again. “This one will bring us everything we have ever dreamt of. And it will work. The game I am playing, the fight we were having today, it will all work in the end.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” The question lingered in the quiet of the cave, the eyes of everyone looking at Haechan, faith and trust all in his hands.

“Because it is all going according to plan.”, he announced, voice thick with pride and confidence. “It is all going according to my plan.”

[botanikos]

SHIPPING INFO. answer the following for your muse(s) so people know how shipping works on your blog.

what’s your OTP for your muse(s)?

Stolitz, obviously. Though I am also biased by saying I will also always readily pursue what I have with Horus & Stolas [ @sxlinvictus is stuck with me forever ].

what are you willing to RP when it comes to shipping?

As far as tropes go, I am open to most things. I am a slut [ affectionate ] for fluff and domesticity, but angst is also my game! I love friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, forced proximity, fake dating, etc. The options are endless!

are you selective when shipping?

I can be. If I can't personally see our muses becoming romantically [ or even just sexually ] inclined, I'll be hesitant and/or let you know it's not going to work out or that I'm not interested. It's nothing personal! I just go based on how my Stolas feels or would approach the matter. On most occasions, I am heavily chemistry based. However, there are some instances where I'd be willing to just jump right into things! Especially if I've had enough interactions with my partners both or either ic or ooc!

Also worth noting — my portrayal will not show interest in women. Sorry, ladies. He will appreciate and compliment them, but there will be zero attraction.

Who are other muses you ship your muse with?

This is a very good question! I will be honest, I never considered anything outside of Stolitz originally, excluding possibilities with Dae's muses as we discuss them. Mostly because I just wasn't sure where I stood on the matter or how Stolas would respond! But some interactions with others have me thinking. . . Broadening my horizons. . .

I would be open to exploring things with: Better Than Blitzo Guy [ why doesn't he have a fucking name?? ], Lucifer, Angel Dust, Andrealphus, Lucifer [ Netflix and probably to be an Exclusive ], Alucard/Adrian from Castlevania, and others idk I just can't think of it without like, prompting or scenarios. . .

I actively/passively ship my Stolas with Blitzo, Lestat [ @this-savage-garden ] and Walter [ @lapetitemxrt ], and Roy [ @flamesignite ]. But these are exclusive ships! I will not pair him with any other portrayal of these characters.

how often do you like to ship?

I love shipping! If it's not already obvious, I'm telling you right now!!! Good soup!

are you multiship?

100%, absolutely! Every ship is verse separate and occurring outside of others unless specified or agreed upon by any/all involved!

what is your favorite ship in your current fandom?

I love Moxxie & Millie so damn much — but if the question is muse specific, then Stolitz, of course.

finally, how does one ship with you?

Tell me! Tell me you're interested and if you have any ideas/desired interactions to get things going! 9/10 times I am willing and absolutely delighted to do so! Also, memes are a great jump into any dynamic! I will say, however, it helps to have interactions prior and/or chatting ooc! If you don't tell me or tag me in a post about wanting it — I won't approach you about it! Even if it's a ship I am interested in. Just slam that shit in my face! Let's goooo!

Additional notes:

Just because I have an interest in shipping with a character does not mean I will seek it out or expect it with you and your muse! Also, I am 100% down for unrequited feelings.

[repo-net]

OMORI Rank-up Tier List #1: Main Cast

Alright, I've recently finished OMORI and I've given myself a bit of time to sit on it, think about the characters and how everything panned out. And hey, it's a pretty writing-centric game, I'm running a pretty writing-centric blog, so why not start with a short two-part series of appreciation posts for the game in the form of a tier list?

I definitely have a lot less to say about the side characters, so I won't be bothering giving them their own post, I'll be clumping them with the next one which is going to be a review of the locations/boss fights throughout the game that I was able to experience.

I'll note right now for anyone that this is the opinions of someone who finished OMORI about a few days after he posted this and only finished the true ending route (because as much as I love it, I am not willing to put myself through the game again just to go through and see the content in other routes when I can just look it up on YouTube), so this may change sometime in the future. I know for a fact that I was battling like hell with myself when I was ranking these six... anyways.

Obviously, spoilers are inbound, so if you haven't played OMORI and want to check it out for yourself, come back to this post later once you've completed it. If you're ready to look at whatever take this brain of mine has, then here it is under the cut!

Oh, and a few more messages before we get to the meat of it all - I'm going to be clumping and judging the characters with a combination of their aspects from both the dream world and the real world. While I obviously think that the real-world versions of the characters are the 'complete' arcs of themselves and the dream world versions are just watered down versions of them created by Sunny/Omori in their liking, I think it's worth bringing them up anyways since they serve as the background for each character before the horrible tragedy that hit them.

I also think that every single character in the main cast is written fantastically and are all at least A-tier characters in my heart, except for a select few in the top 2 that I think are more than worthy of being put into the S-tier if I were actually putting them into tiers instead of just ranking them.

Alright - let's do this for real this time!

#6 - Mari

You know how much it sucks having to pick a least favorite among a selection of things that you all really like? It's like me having to choose which of my kids I want to put up for adoption, blegh. Unfortunately, someone had to take this and begrudgingly, I'll have to slide everyone's favorite older sister here. I really hope this one isn't controversial...

So, here's the thing about Mari, right? In the perspective of a writer, I think she absolutely has the most going for her in terms of the amount of content you can produce for her in comparison to the rest of the cast. I think the sheer magnitude of possibilities and scenarios that you can write using Mari is pretty much endless, whether it be fluffy alternative universes where she lives or angsty, gut-wrenching punches of how not so great her time with Sunny ended. And believe me, that's just scraping the surface of what you can do with her!

Mari's a constant presence throughout the entirety of the game, whether it be in the form of Something looking over Sunny and Omori, being the support for everyone in the friend group as you go through the dream world, or her unfortunate death being the reason everyone in the real world turned out the way they did. And as much as I want to like Mari more, she's a very charming character and I think her relationship with Hero is one of the highlights of the game, I constantly find myself appreciating it (as a writer who enjoys angst) from Hero's side more because of how he responds to it. There just... isn't much for me to look at, honestly? Her dream world self is a sweetheart, bless her - but when we talk about how fleshed out she really is, there's not much for me to say other than what's already been shown to you in the story.

The best parts of Mari are in the symbolism scattered throughout the game in Sunny's subconscious and the short scenes we get of her throughout the game. I think I can attribute this to one of the criticisms I have of Omori; I really, really think Mari's character would've benefited from having more scenes of her failings (the pressure to get the duet with Sunny right; her perfectionist attitude being the reason he snaps being the fatal flaw that causes her death) actually play out instead of being left up to interpretation and details in the flavor text of the game.

Shit stinks. I really wish we could've seen that more- ironically enough, the imperfect side of Mari. Because the way I interpreted it, Sunny's motivation for playing the violin was so he could spend more time with Mari regardless of how much stress it puts on him and how much time it takes away from getting to chill with his friends. And when even that stops being fun for Sunny because of the pressure he feels considering it was the day of the recital and he still wasn't playing it perfectly, he lashes out and breaks the violin. In comparison, Mari wanted to perfect it cause... uhh, I dunno? Would sure be nice if we got more context on why she acted like that, considering the stark contrast of what she's like in the dream world...

If you really want to be harsh about it, Mari just ended up being a plot device for Sunny's own story, unfortunately. There exists a personality in there in the form of her dream world self; but it's angelic, too much so (which we obviously know why, it's Sunny's interpretation of Mari, a person who could do no wrong). I wish there was more about how Mari really was - as a sibling, as a girlfriend, and just as a person than the stories we get from the other characters that we have to fill in the blanks ourselves.

But hey, that's what fanfics are for, yeah? You go, Mari enjoyers. I love all of y'all. (Has been in the fandom for like no more than a week)

#5 - Basil

You hate to see it. Sorry, I know a lot of the fandom adores this boyo (I know a friend of mine does and I apologize in advance to you) and I do too, but I think it speaks volumes of how much I love this cast when a character of the floral lad's level can land himself in a spot like this. Man, why'd I put the two sweetest and kindest characters in the main cast at the bottom? I'm horrible, lmfao.

Ahh, Basil. In fairness, I think he has my second favorite design in the game only behind Aubrey from the real world, and if there's a character I'd want to roleplay as - I think my mind would go to Basil too, actually. There's so much good I can say about Basil that it makes me wonder; how in the world did he end up all the way over here?

Is it because of the horrible shit he pulled (seriously, how does a 12 year old come up with that? oh wait, my blog is nagisa shingetsu themed. nevermind, it's totally reasonable.) that he ended up here? Nope, heck I think he's way more interesting of a character because of it; seeing just how badly he was willing to protect his best friend and save him, only to create a rift between the two that becomes the focal point of the entire plot. That's good fucking shit right there. Love when characters have good intentions in mind and it just ruins their life.

The striking thing about Basil is that he has a very complete personality that makes him easy to latch onto; Basil is a kind soul with a strong sense of empathy and understanding of others, he loves photography and flowers, going as far as to have descriptions of his best friends in the wake of said flowers. He's a little troubled, hates fighting, but he's trying his best in spite of that to keep a smile on his face. He's a good boy and I think if you showed a normal person who knows nothing about the game the main cast, I think most people would say Basil's either the most interesting or their favorite character just by how nicely wrapped his presentation is when you disregard all the spoilery stuff about him.

Where it stops for me though is this - for someone who plays such an important role in the story and how the main conflict in pretty much 75% of the game is centered around him, Basil sure enjoys being absent because unfortunately, said conflict is the fact that he's missing. I'm not going to use this as a diss on Basil's character because it isn't his fault that he's pretty much required to be shrouded in mystery, and I don't even know what suggestions I'd have to improve it because you can't be showing Basil off too much.

But we're at a crossroads here. I think we didn't see Basil enough in the story, but at the same time... what could you do in OMORI that fixes that issue while also not overexposing him at the same time? Another unlucky spot that Basil's put in is the fact that some of the scenes where he's present in the real-world are overshadowed by another character capturing me more (Aubrey). It's not that there's a lack of him, but it's... ugh. It's so hard to explain.

It's tough. Because Basil's struggles is just so incredibly heartbreaking and I really, really do feel for him and just want to give the guy a hug after all that he's been through. Being driven to the point where you and your best friends are fighting each other, even gouging out his fucking eye??? It's horrific. I don't think the first thought that came to Basil's mind during the incident was 'let's hide this evidence as fast as we can', but more of a 'oh god, i need to save my best friend'. He's got so much weighing down on him.

At the end of the day, I don't even think Basil's underutilized. It just feels like he is, and I can't shake it off enough to put him above all the other characters here. Sorry, flower boy. I get the feeling you'll grow on me more as time passes, though.

#4 - Sunny

Hey, it's the protagonist! I usually put guys like you a lot higher than this, especially considering just how much I was rooting for you... and you did! So happy for you, my man. I'll forever be grateful I stumbled upon the best possible ending for the gang on my first and only playthrough of the game. Oh right, we should be talking about him instead of me. Sorry about that.

While some people like to consider Omori and Sunny as separate entities and prefer to rank them exclusive of one another, I'm personally going to take the other route and do as I've been doing with everyone else here; collectively using both dream world and real-world versions to judge the character as a whole.

And that plays the biggest factor me when it comes to ranking Omori/Sunny. Because I don't think Omori is a separate person from who Sunny is - I think Omori is an aspect of Sunny that formed as a result of the trauma that the incident with Mari caused. Omori is Sunny's coping mechanism, less of a shield, more of a wall; but I think the best word to describe him is a bubble that keeps Sunny's most horrific memories from resurfacing.

When I first played this game, I immediately found myself pretty attached to Omori because he was just a dry, quiet little guy who hangs out with his friends and might have some sort of mental issue to him. Who could resist such allure? But damn, if it weren't for the real world segments and how it all culminates into the final battle between Sunny and Omori... I think he'd be in Mari's spot. A character too reliant on flavor text to showcase their character, not really leaving enough of an impact for me to immediately think about them when I hear about the game OMORI.

But Sunny... Sunny, my beautiful boy. This poor fucking kid. Sunny is such an incredibly human character and I always found myself feeling pity for the guy, he's been dealt with such a horrible hand in the short time he's been alive, and yet despite me never going anywhere near the Sunny that went through, and having a very different personality from him; I can attest, he's very relatable. Just remind yourself that this kid pretty much tortured and isolated him for four whole years all alone because he couldn't get over the guilt that accidentally killing Mari gave him.

Four years is the amount of time between the start of the pandemic and today. Imagine never leaving your house, having no friends to rely on or talk to, constantly living in a fantasy world where you can do no wrong to hide yourself and cope, and dealing with at a worst case scenario was daily nightmares of your most horrible memory. Sunny's immediate reactions to anything that causes him distress is to block it out, and so; Omori, being his bubble, will do whatever means it takes to protect Sunny regardless of how much better it'd actually be in the end for him to finally accept the reality of what happened four years ago.

I don't normally mess or enjoy silent protagonists much because they're inherently kind of dull and usually end up falling flat. But along with Kris from Deltarune, Sunny is wonderful. It's just a shame that everyone after him are people I ended up feeling more connected to.

#3 - Hero

I honestly can't believe this man managed to win me over so hard that he'd place in the top 3. I kept thinking to myself while I was ranking the main cast: 'I like this character more than him, right...?'. But almost every single time, I remember something this goofy charm of a man did and I just sigh and realize I didn't appreciate him enough until after my playthrough and looked back on how so many of the things I liked about this game involved him.

So, here we are. At third, is none other than the world's most handsome man himself - Hero. I'm still wondering what his real name is if Hero was apparently just a nickname. Henry? That's like the closest thing I can think of off the top of my head. But let's address the elephant in the room.

I'll get this out of the way already. I'm perfectly aware that in comparison to everyone else, Hero doesn't get as much screentime or focus, heck; in the real world, he only shows up at the end of the second day and his most memorable moment for me was Kel telling us about what became of Hero after Mari's death when you go to her at the cemetery during Three Days Left. Flavor text. The very thing I pointed out to be why everyone before Hero is ranked lower than him. So how come he's up here...?

More than anything else, it's personal attachment. Apologies again for making this about me (pretty much every character from here is going to involve a bit of my personal life), but I have no siblings at all. This was kind of my fault, since I was so attached to my parents' love and affection that I didn't want anyone else taking that away from me. At the same time, I had three older male cousins who were the closest things to a big brother that I ever had in my childhood. They weren't exactly the nicest to me... but I always figured that was admittedly because of how weird I was as a kid anyways, so I don't hold that against them. I just wish I could've connected with them more.

Hero not only feels a lot more 'real' as a person to me in comparison to characters like Basil and Mari, not only cause I know people who handled the loss of a family member like he did and managed to hold himself enough and not go to the deep end. They're some of the most admirable people I know, and I look up to them a lot. Hero constantly wonders what he did wrong that Mari felt the need to commit suicide, but in the end; it's because he didn't do anything wrong. It's why I've always thought Hero's perspective after the good ending is the most interesting one and the one I always look forward to when I see how the writer executes it.

Not only does Hero get significantly more screentime than the characters before him in the form of the dream world, and feel much more alive than all the other dream world versions of the main cast, but he's much more flexible and allows for more wholeness in what I want to feel from a character.

What I mean by that is that Hero's personality and character opens more opportunities (and capitalizes on it!) so he can make me laugh, he can make me feel for him, he can be someone I can relate and struggle with, he can be someone I want to root for, and he's someone I can attribute to things I hold dearly to in real life.

He might not be the most complex or tragic (and considering what he went through, it goes to show just how bad shit gets in this game) character out there in a cast full of really deep ones, nor does he really stand out in the cast to some people...

But to me, he's everything I want out of a character. The only things that stopped him from being higher is that I was more compelled and struck by the next two.

#2 - Aubrey

Honestly? I thought Sunny would be a lot higher; in the spots that this one and the one after her would be, but I took the time to think about it and after some careful thought, I realized - yeah, I think these two are just more gripping to me and characters that I genuinely felt astonished by.

The dream world versions of the characters are husks. They're the idealistic versions of Sunny's friends and are characters that are only truly completed and finished because their real persona is so... amazing. And Aubrey...?

Out of any other character in the game, I think Aubrey benefits from the arc her real world has more than anyone else in this game. Because good god, this girl... I would've thought I'd feel more bad about the other characters, but I found myself constantly worrying about Aubrey because the circumstances that surrounded her was nothing short of poignant.

Could you imagine being in her position? You lose someone who's basically your older sister in a friend group that's more family than your own blood; because they're all deadbeats and your home life is unpleasant, to put it lightly. All of them start to drift off, for one reason and another, and it feels like nobody is even there to comfort you or give you a shoulder to lean on. But wait, maybe you do! Your childhood friend Basil, who's kind of nervous and seems pretty broken, but at least he's still there, right...?

And yet, from Aubrey's perspective, Basil ruined what was essentially the only physical memories they had left of their Mari. Someone she loved so dearly, desecrated like that... that broke her. For Aubrey, it felt like there was no one there that could understand her. And then, after four long years - suddenly, one of your friends finally decides to show his face, and this obnoxious, overly positive and reality-denying guy tries to act like you didn't just lose four years of your life wondering what went wrong and why she lost everything so quickly.

Wouldn't it feel insulting?

I don't normally like 'bully' characters (mainly due to my own childhood experiences with them), because they usually hit too close to home to me. I hate that I even feel like categorizing Aubrey as that considering we know the circumstances around her life. To make matters worse, she was probably the one I least cared about until her arc in the real world started and she completely blew me away.

Aubrey, whom I love the real design of and think she looks great in the real world - Aubrey's arc and character is something you learn to appreciate. It's something that you can only really 'get' when you remember the lesson OMORI tries to teach you in the first place.

And well, if you've played the game, then I need not explain any further. Let's move on to the guy in first.

#1 - Kel

A dork, kind of a dunce, but a champion. He is the catalyst for the true ending and is the reason the path to it even opens up in the first place. I'll concede this; characters that are complex like Aubrey, Sunny, and Basil are normally the characters you'd see as my favorites because I tend to value them more or just like their presence more.

But in any game; I really, really don't think I've ever seen a character archetype in the way that Kel's in who manages to not only be full of that childish endearing aura to him, yet flawed and so very, very real and human; who you can understand why other characters would lash out and get irritated at him, but also support him knowing fully well that his intentions are always for the best...

Kel is amazing. From the first interaction with him in the dream world, I was immediately hooked because of his stupid and goofy little humor that brings me to reminiscences of a simpler, more fun and youthful time in my life. I was worried that I might grow tired of him since; let's face it, dream world Kel does have shades of being just a tad one-dimensional. I was genuinely considering putting Aubrey as my favorite character.

And then I remembered the graveyard scene with Kel talking about his and Hero's story.

No scene in the game solidified my love for a character and made me want to do everything for them more than that did with Kel. Hands down, that is my favorite scene in the entire game and not a lot of moments come close.

Kel's kind of bad at reading the room, I think he's self-aware enough to know that he's stubborn and there are times where he's stepping into territory that should just be left alone.

Despite that though, it's because of his persistence that he succeeds. Kel might just seem like a positive and happy go lucky goofball (he is, tbf), but he had to deal with his own shit too. In response to Mari's death, Kel put on a smile and did what he believed Mari would've wanted him to do - he healed himself and got back up by making new friends, taking the time to worry about others, and try to get the friend group back together.

No matter how many tries it took. I seriously, seriously wonder just how much time Kel spent knocking on doors, asking his old friends if they wanted to hang out, yet always falling on deaf ears. I think the reason he's able to smile in spite of it all is that he just hasn't had the chance to mourn on his own. There are moments where the smile breaks for a bit; times like when Hero is the one that immediately gets rushed to by his parents while he's just left there when the two of them fought, or after Hero saves Basil after Aubrey pushed him into the lake, and he starts wanting nothing more to do with Aubrey, thinking that she's really changed until Hero manages to convince him otherwise.

Or worst of all, in the neutral ending... where Basil lets himself go and Kel cries, finally breaking down and unable to hold back the tears this time. He asks Sunny; 'why does this keep happening to us?' in the most heartbreaking sprite in the game. He's human and has a limit, just like everyone else. And it's so cathartic when in the good ending, Kel's efforts pays off in the form of Sunny finally overcoming his demons.

Everything I said about Hero being flexible and whole? Kel is that, but cranked to 11. I absolutely adore this boy and I want him to be happy, because he deserves the world and more.

Kel is my favorite character in all of OMORI. And with that, here's the formal image of the final rankings of all these characters.

Whoo, that must've been a doozy. Sorry that got so long, and if any of my thoughts didn't make sense or are incoherent - I'm a lot better following up on things and adding to it rather than trying to formulate my own thoughts, because trying to think of stuff that people don't already say is pretty hard, eheh.

Anyways, that's my ranking of the main 6 characters from OMORI. Not ashamed to say how much I love all of them and this game, and I'm looking forward to the next time I find the energy to continue this series and divert the discussion from its core set of characters. Hope you enjoyed reading this!

Quick credit for the fanmade pic of real Mari: Some Mari portrait edits : OMORI (reddit.com)

[not-so-avid-fanfic-writer]

Alien Blues

Pairing: Keigo Takami/Hawks X autistic reader

This one shot contains fluff, nesting, maybe some angst, and something that I always call 'autism dominance' (idk the real term for it, but it's basically and autistic individual who's traits are more noticeable than usual, probably due to stress)

DO NOT REPOST/PLAGARISE

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Based on this post

Quirk is from my Fan Fic series, Endless Forms Most Beautiful (but not the same universe) and you can read the info sheet here

Right now you just wanted to cry, but you almost visibly recoiled at the thought of your face feeling wet and sticky with salt.

The whole day, all you wanted was to be buried in your lover's arms, wings wrapped around each other, tucked into the corner of your apartment that was turned into a nest.

But instead you were stuck shoulder to shoulder with every type of stranger possible on the subway home from your dream-turned-nightmare 9-5 job.

You swear you've almost been fired a couple of times today. From your 'informal' work attitude because of you're stimming, to not wanting to give you're sweaty palmed and just generally unclean superior physical contact.

You can almost feel how moist your bones are inside your body, and count every air molecule that that you felt pounding against your skin as your finally freed from the metal cage of nightmarish speed. Speaking of nightmarish speeds, that's the one you chose to run at to guarantee no more sensory problems on your way home.

You wish you could fly, you really do. But the contract your company had with you which meant you couldn't use your quirk, unless it was for what was classed as a genuine reason.

As you closed the door to the apartment, you peeled your feet out of the ridiculous dress shoes the company had you wear so you could morph you feet into a more comfortable and natural state.

Stretching your wings and arms above your head, you wander your home searching for pillows, blankets, and most importantly, your beloved, Keigo Takami.

You heard the door open and close mid forage, and you whip your head around, eyes locking on the intruder.

"Keigo!" You sobbed, not realising your love was going to be home so early. Soon you found yourself breaking down in his arms.

"Hey, hey. Baby calm down. Let's get you into the nest, and I'll get you some snacks." He offered, and all you could muster was a quiet 'mhm' , and as soon as your body hit the circular mattress in your living room, you went limp, and Keigo left to get something to eat from the kitchen, as well as the blankets you had dropped.

"Today was shit." You spat out. "They kept on touching me."

"I know, baby bird. How about we finish the nest, order some takeout, and watch that ghost show you like?"

You look up at him from your spot in the nest, baffled.

"You're willing to watch Lockwood & Co. with me? You never do this."

"Sometimes sacrifices need to be made to make people happy."

~*-*~Timeskip~*-*~

A few pizzas and a finished nest later, you and Keigo were cuddling, your back to his chest.

He suddenly spoke up,

"I don't think she did look in the mirror."

You turn to look at him with a raised eye, questioning him.

"The one with the curly hair? I personally think she had enough time to look while George got the net."

. . .

There was silence for a bit before Keigo spoke.

"Nah, I don't think so, c'm'ere."

And before you knew it, you were pinned, deft hands working at your sides, causing you to writhe and giggle, almost to the point of pain.

"NO KEI- STOP, PLEASE." You squealed.

"Only if you stop being such a smart ass."

"AAAAHHH, FINE FINE JUST STOOPP, PLEASE."

. . .

Keigo flopped down onto you, and you welcomed it, the pressure grounding you.

"Y'know," you said, "I lied about what I said earlier." You admitted.

"Oh, shaddup."

That was fun to write

This prompt was made by @mirukosbitchywife

I hope I can use more of them in the future

Anyways, bye for now :]

-Ez

[verybadatwriting]

Medic

Summary: Y/n is a very skilled (not clone) medic, and is assigned to the 501st on their trip to the ‘Shadow World,’ Umbara. 

Warnings: Injuries, General Krell, angstey.

Words: 553

Notes: Inspired by @greaterawareness ‘s post about this episode. Also my first time writing for Star Wars. Haven't watched it in a long time, but the pull to write angst was too great. As per usual, feedback is appreciated.

Gn reader

The endless rain on this Maker-forsaken planet never seemed to let up. The room was swamped in mud from the countless men who were carried in, some not even half alive. A few hours earlier, both the 501st and the 212th left in preparation for a huge umbaran attack. Now they came back in pieces.

There wasn’t time to ask what had gone wrong. You had suspicions, since the marks and burns looked awfully similar to the ones you’d get from a standard issue blaster. The clones seemed off, too. Like they’d just witnessed something horrific.

Hours flowed together as you worked on patient after patient. When you had saved all who you could, and the others were stable, you sunk into a chair in the corner to try to rest. Maybe if Kix had been here to help, more would have lived. Where was he? You hadn’t seen him nor Rex since they left.

It was possible they were both gone.

You woke up to the sound of the doors opening once again. Luckily, it was just a dozen or two men. And Kix was with them, so you had some help. They were all exhausted though, especially Kix. After a few minor blunders you addressed it.

“Kix,” You said, “I’ve got it from here. You can go rest.”

“No, I’m fine.” He tried to argue, but you weren’t having it.

“We both know that’s a lie. You can either go to sleep willingly, or…” You gestured to a rack of sedatives on the wall. Knowing you were right, he was tired and you could handle things, he left.

Later, you were about to leave to get some food and rest yourself when the door opened once again. In walked Rex, who nodded to you, grabbed a bacta patch, and sat in a chair. He began taking off the shoulder piece of his armor when you glanced over. 

“Mother of moons…” You exclaimed softly. “Captain, that looks bad, lemme take a look at it.”

He shifted so you could see his upper arm better.

“What the…” You whispered as you worked. The gash on his arm was burnt closed and deep. “Rex… These… These are lightsaber marks. What exactly happened out there?”

“I don’t think you want to know.”

“I do.” You said, starting to wrap gauze around it. “Two are sentenced to death, but still walk. Everyone comes back with blaster burns, now saber marks. Krell’s gone – which I’m not upset about, although it’s still strange – I need to know what’s going on.”

Rex filled you in on everything up till the battle against ‘Umbarans.’

“I saw one of them, the Umbarans who stole our uniforms. I aimed for him because he was wearing my friend’s armor. I wanted to get back at them, revenge for his death. Then I saw a little of his neck under his helmet.

“I investigated and… It was him, my fellow clone, my brother, my friend. I’d killed him. I tried to get the others to stop, once I tackled someone we’d assumed was an Umbaran and took his helmet off, they finally did. I…” He faltered.

“Oh Maker…” You said, covering your mouth, “That’s horrible. I’m so sorry, Rex.”

“It’s okay.”

Hesitating slightly, you leaned in and hugged him. He hugged back.

[naveries]

bandmates!

au. predebut band beomgyu + young performer y/n

summary. y/n dreamt of it daily, the vision she held close to her heart. an endless ocean of crowd, singing notes only the heavens have ever heard as she strut down the stage. for it to all become her reality. a performer. she was determined desperate. she hoped to have it all under control. but then who, what was that plagued her mind, this feeling.

!includes. fluff, angst? /beomgyu&yn /high school band au

02. you shall be found guilty

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cling clang

the rattles of keys were what you woke up to,

“mom?” you questioned groggily, was it time to get ready already? trying to crawl out of dream land. oh how for it to be so easy. shake off the tiredness, we could get more things done.

“shh shh, sorry honey. i just got home now” she had just opened and peaked through the door to check on you. “did i wake you up?” you look over to your clock, 5:00 AM. you could swear it was taunting you or something.

“no its okay, welcome home” you said plastering a smile, you were glad that she was home.

“you didn’t stay up too late did you? i can drop you off if you don’t feel like commuting” she sat down on your bed as you sat up from under your covers.

“no i’m okay, why change my routine just because i don’t feel like it? thats how we get into bad habits right?” you smiled with your eyes closed.

her eyebrows furrow, “oh how lucky am i to have you, so strong-“ she smiles weakly as she tries to hug you, but you flinch back, raising your wrist as a reflex.

she frowns, “sorry sweetie, i forget that- uhm” she laughs awkwardly, “anyways, go back to sleep, ill drop you off in an hour, no arguing!” she says in a sing-song tone. bouncing up and off the bed, marching out of your room.

you heard your mom laughing in the living room while you waited for her, tapping your foot anxiously. if you didn’t leave now then you were gonna be late.

you can hear her talking, something about an event with an old friend? you weren’t sure, but you did know that she wanted you to tag along.

you were smart but not the smartest, you were okay with it in a way, but taking the risky path you were, having average grades wasn’t gonna cut it for you. you needed to be more than enough you thought, the more appeal the better!

impatient, screw it you said. you got up, walked passed your mom, and put on your shoes. getting your mom’s as well.

“we’re gonna be late, if you don’t hurry” you waved your red ribboned headband in the air trying to get her attention as you stood by the door.

she looked up confused, and then she at her watch. her eyes widened as she dropped the phone, practically jumping to the ceiling.

“SHIT SHIT SHIT, YEAH HON LETS GO, QUICK QUICK, RUN START THE CAR” AS SHE TOSSED YOU THE KEYS.

you scurried out to the car. you wouldn’t usually, but you appreciated her antics. it calmed your nerves from your former worries, brightening your mood in a way.

she was trying.

during the car ride your mom noticed how serious your gaze out the window was, concerned, of course she asked “do you wanna let it off your chest? you know you get your quality of observation from me, your looks anyway.”

you laugh a bit before confessing, “its nothing you need to worry about, just the competition” you breathed out heavily

you were distracted, not about the competition but about the song. it wasn’t like you, or it wasn’t a song you’d expected composed by lee y/n.

was something missing to the song? you were so focused though, couldn’t be. was it your focus that made it scary? all these possibilities running through your mind yet remembering what was floating in the air.

“are you gonna make it?” you held your breath asking.

“this saturday? of course. what time does it start?” she asked switching between you and the road.

“at 12PM, but try to get there earlier. i want to get photos” you said sighing out. a timid yay cheering in your head

“of course i’ll make-“ cut off from her phone buzzing in the coffee holder.

“y/n-ah, could you answer and hold it up to my ear?” she asked in a rush before the ringing ran out.

you grabbed it, sliding answer, and put it up to her ear.

“hello? lee yeong speaking” you spaced out while she answered, you were trying to think who it was calling so early. her composed turned into a ghast tone.

“at this very moment? i mean unless you want your employees to be paid, not paying hospital bills. she chuckled. she really had inappropriate comedic timing didn’t she.

“alright, alright. on my way! hang up y/n” she glanced over to you for a second.

you lowered your arm, hanging up the call.

“does your arm not hurt? you held it up for a bit” she asked curious.

“no, not really. probably because i carry around the instruments half of the day sometimes”

“so you’d say you have a thing for athleticism?” she inquired. your eyebrows furrowed, where was she even taking this?

“i guess? what does that have to do with-“

“could you run to school? it’s not to far, 2 blocks away. i owe you, im running late for this last minute schedule!”

she rambled on.

you were shocked by the request, you short circuited for a second. “uh- i mean” looking at the time on the car 7:53AM. school starts at 8:00AM.

you paused thinking about it for a second, i guess you could, but you would just have to run really fast.

“yeah sure, ill see you!” waiting for the car to stop at a red light. you quickly made up your mind, not wanting to drag this on longer, unbuckling your seat and rushing out the car door.

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT !!!

you nearly trip while fixing your bag, your tie becoming lose, your hair in shambles, your uniform jacket slipping off your shoulders, while trying to keep your guitar from falling off your shoulders. why were guitars so heavy you cursed

you were running so fast you could barely catch your breath, the were only a few students on their way to school and these were your schoolmates who you recognized coming into class late.

so to sum it up? if you didn’t run faster than you already were, you’re sure as hell gonna be late.

you looked down to your watch, if it was still there that is

7:57 AM

you could’ve sworn your watch looked extra smug today.

“jiu, where is she?” souha turned to jiuin worried

jiuin shrugged furrowing her eyebrows weary of you, it wasn’t like you to cut close to being late. it wasn’t like them to arrive before you.

8:02 AM

the doors creaked open, everyone turned to you. you were panting, hair all over the place, your red headband hanging off your shoulder, and clothing in mishaps. your heart was racing.

“oh my goodness, y/n!” souha stood up and ran to you, wide eyes worried about your current state. jiuin searched her bag for a hairbrush, rushing to come to your aid.

you were so tired, you put your hands on your knees coughing. “i-im heeerreee” you said out of breath.

still catching your breath, all you could think of was thank goodness, i made it.

“you’re a mess, what happened to you?!” souha hugged you tight and holding your shoulders frantically checking you. jiuin sneaking up behind souha to hug you as well quickly brushing your hair, and fixing your headband in place.

she exhaled “you’re late you realize that? we were beginning to worry” souha directing you to your seat while jiu fixed your tie. “and we had a reason! look at you. what on earth happened?”

jiu sat you down as she sat down herself in her seat beside you, hand in hand.

“i’m fine, long story-“

“and as interesting as it may be, hopefully it can wait till after class” you were cut-off by your teacher.

you mouthed later to jiuin and souha as class was starting.

[lunch time]

souha went to go find minji since apparently she owed her lunch, telling you to rest and she’ll come back. knowing how busy the halls would get and you’re not a fan of closed/little space.

you were beginning to feel antsy as people from another classrooms began to fill up the space, not knowing why your class in particular was so popular.

you walked out as you felt it was becoming to cramped in there, closing in on you. you weren’t hungry, so you just searched for kyorin and souha.

you passed a few students staring you down, you heard them holding back smug laughs.

“it must’ve felt so humiliating for her”

“she has natural face that makes your blood boil”

“why did she show up to class like that?”

“maybe she was trying out a new style”

“if you look at her she might just have the wrong idea of hipster. you know how people mistaken homeless clothing for hipster?”

“YOU’RE AWFUL!” they all laugh obnoxiously

“what was she thinking for her hair, just curious. tinker bell?”

“pixie cut”

“what was she thinking”

you turned the corner

you closed your eyes holding, clenching your jaw. ignore them your mind demanded. your expression grew more frustrated. this happened everyday, you’d think you’d learn to handle your deck of cards. but it only seemed to make you grow self conscious.

you knew better though than to let them get to you, you have to get better, its all you need. you sighed changing into a disappointed expression, side eyeing the window. while you rubbed your elbow.

way to into your head, you failed to notice the familiar few of the voices from yesterday approaching you.

“sk8ter boi wasn’t too bad during practice, plus we need an english song. why not do that for the competition?“ jaeyun said to munbin as beomgyu walked to the far side of both of them.

“that’s not bad!” munbin gasped, pointing a finger to jaeyun.

but it was then that jaeyun noticed you approaching, munbin was curious as to what jaeyun was staring at, spotting you as well. “oh sick, it’s her!” munbin whispered.

jaeyun winked to munbin as he looked over at beomgyu. since munbin was in the middle, he nudged beomgyu with his shoulder getting his attention. beomgyu glanced to munbin

“what’s up? i was listening i swear, sk8ter boi is-“

“look up” jaeyun said cutting beomgyu off

beomgyu then looked up confused as to why their tone was soft suddenly. he took notice of the familiar figure with headphones as his gaze softens

oh, that’s why. he thought to himself as you made your way down the hallway.

he wanted to say something but even as talkative as he usually is, his tongue was in a knot. he was excited to see you but the type of excited that made his stomach to hurdles.

you were staring at the window til you saw someone looking at you, making eye contact for a split second and looked back outside. not realizing it was him, you passed without any interaction.

he felt disappointed, although he doesn’t think he would’ve known what to say anyway. he then processed your dejected expression, a second after you passed them, affecting his own facial expression.

he looks up to munbin and jaeyun who were already looking at him with identical smug smirks. teasing him no doubt.

he jumped “why are you looking at me like that?” perplexed, he playfully punches munbin’s shoulder

munbin dramatically holds his shoulder “YAH WHY ARE YOU HITTING ME AS IF I’M THE ONLY WHO WAS STARING, IT WAS JAEYUN’S IDEA”

they both look to jaeyun as he proceeds to dramatically hold out his hand as he begins to sing that song from cinderella “so this is loooveee~”

“you better start running” beomgyu deadpanned

jaeyun broke a laugh and quickly ran ahead, beomgyu chased after him leaving munbin behind.

for this scene;

bolded text is y/n pov, slanted text is beomgyu pov

per usual, you were the first to arrive. you felt a bit too self anxious to dance so instead you decided to see what you had done of that song so far.

you decided to go over the chords on souha’s piano instead of guitar, you just needed a new feel of something.

you started.

some times i go blurry eyed

alone, he was making his way up the stairs up to the practice room, the other had gone to grab drinks and snacks.

small talk and you tell me that you’re on fire

he then heard the voice again, and it was more clear this time

lights on and it’s black and white

he looked into that dark room which held the same girl who laminated the room with this yellow-brown-pink hue.

i couldn’t stay forever

your voice sounded so hurt, it tugged at his heart. he was focused on you and your voice.

i get alone sometimes and i miss you again

he was in a dream, it was blurry atmosphere, your voice was ringing in his head.

i’ll be the love of your life inside your head

his bottom lip was dropped

when the night is over

when has real people ever sounded like that before he thought

don’t call me up, i’m already under

he had never heard the song before, but he was sure not make the same mistake letting it pass by. so sure to ask you

“what song is that?”

you looked up in surprise

“sorry i didn’t mean to scare you” he apologized

“no no, i’m sorry, i didn’t notice you were watching” as you scratched

he motioned if he could enter the room. nodding your head, he smiled as he nodded his while timidly landing his first foot inside.

you looked to the side, portable piano in your lap. side eyeing him then turning your head to face him. he sat down in front you.

you were avoiding eye contact because you felt awkward til you decided to look at him and fight it off for now. it was the polite thing to do.

you both look back at each other at the same time, causing you both to quickly avert eyes again.

you didn’t know what to do

he let out a laugh, you face him as he was looking down then faces you.

“anyway, what song was it?” he asked looking down at the piano as were you.

“oh it was a song i made last night, it doesn’t have a name but-“ he cut you off

“you wrote it?” with wide eyes, his head moving slightly closer to the piano. he sounded shocked

“oh- yeah, me. i’m not a professional, i know, but i did try and i think i’ll get better if i continue to do so!” you were beginning to question if they turned off the air conditioning after school because you felt your ears heat up.

you looked him in awe of the piano. he must really like pianos you thought.

“are you crazy?” he chuckled as he looked up at you

“your talent and ability is so incredibly touching y/n!” he said in a smiling tone at you.

“ohhh, thanks” you smiled weakly back

he was so in awe of you, you couldn’t help but strengthen your smile. it was hard to hold back.

he looked away, he felt his ears start to burn up as well.

“by the way, i wanted to ask you something” he suddenly changed the topic.

“hm? what is it?” giving him permission to ask you

“what’s my name?” he faced you seriously

oh no

this won’t be good

“your name?” you asked while looking up to the ceiling.

“y/nnnniee, my name” he said trying to catch your eyes back onto him.

“uh, well you knooow” trying to catch a glimpse of his uniform only for him to cover it.

“no cheating!” he said “y/n my name?”

you were looking everywhere “oh uh you know, you’ve got one, i got one, everyones got a name.” you tried prolonging it.

“YOU’RE STALLING!” he said moving forward

“AM NOT!” you moved forward as well

“YOU DON’T KNOW IT!” he yelled

“I DO! IT’S BANGU!” you yelled back

he fell back breaking out in laughter. you were left in embarrassment, making a tight smile while as you watched him dying of laughter.

he got up wiping his tears, recovering from his giggle fit, he continued “it’s beomgyu y/n!” he said “choi beom gyu”

“oh shut up” you pushed his shoulder back as you laugh it off his head was down still chuckling

“you’re gonna choke from laughing, it’s very possible” you said in a pessimistic tone looking down at his hair

“then you shall be found guilty” he mocked

he had finished laughing, he smiled up at you, while you too found yourself smiling at him

you stayed like that for a bit, looking at each other. it was hard to break the eye contact.

that was until the lights turned on, you both looked to see minji and kyor looking at you two confused.

“what are you two doing in the dark?” minji asked as she approached her guitar.

“oh y/n was showing me a song she wrote” beomgyu replied for you

“in the dark? gazing into each others eyes?” minji teased you both overly emphasizing the way she spoke.

“WE WEREN’T GAZING INTO EACH OTHERS EYES!” you said defensively

“we sort of were though” beomgyu said

“YOU ARE NOT HELPING!” you yelled back to him

the three of them laughed at you.

“this is so embarrassing” you said as you buried your face in your palms

beomgyu was startled by a sudden vibration, his phone vibrated to what you assume was someone from his band.

yeol jin: were outside! could you help us, jiuin’s bag broke since it was heavy so we need extra pairs of hands.

beomgyu: oh sure, on my way!

he put his phone in his bag as he got up. “hey, my bandmates need help carrying snacks up, i’ve got to go” he said as he slunk his bag over his shoulders.

“oh okay, so you’re leaving?” you asked feeling a bit dejected

“yeah, but you guys should stop by if you’d like! knowing them they bought too much stuff anyway. we have big appetites” he said as he walked towards the door.

surprised you were, you said

“oh okay, sure. we’ll think about it-”

“we’ll be there” you were cut off by kyor who, rested her hands on your shoulders as she gave beomgyu a thumbs up

“alright, see you guys later. bye y/n” he waved as he turned and left out the door

“so did we interrupt your date?” minji’s teasing was never ending.

“WE WEREN’T ON A DATE!”

A/N. this was a filler chapter to connect the story lines im sorry, BUT IT GETS BETTER I PROMISE. PLEASE TRUST ME! 😭

thank you for making it this far!

[darkdoverpseeker]

👀 hi everyone, 

I kinda fell in love with Sandman, cannot get rid of it from my head like absolutely and here we are. 

I am 28F, roleplaying for quite a while and pretty easy going with genres (drama-angst is always appreciated though, lol), au and your choice of the character (as far it is a cc). I go with the Corinthian myself, but do not mind to extend my list to Desire or Hob.  

I would definitely like to play with Lord of the Dreams, one of the Endless, blah-blah blah — I firstly mean rp, but generally in all the possible context ya know. No matter who to choose on my side it is clearly an amazing and complicated story behind and you could easily buy me with drama-and-angst (not only) just nod. 

Still do not limit your choice at all, Lucienne is taking my heart easily with no effort. Desire and Corinthian actually looks like a next awesome match — but this is just a hint. I am sure that it is possible to match almost everyone. 

I used to write lapslock a lot, so can adjust to pretty different styles, length and the platform (pretty unfamiliar with tumblr for playing but we can work this out), just let me know of your preferences x 

So, hi. dying alone in a fandom, help is needed, salvation is appreciated

desu_mello#5533 

desu_mello#5533

[daynada]

AOT Characters Comforting Their Crying S/O

[Content Warnings]: Angst, comfort, grammatical errors, GN!S/O (insert reader)

Divine Zine Spotlight [Characters Featured]: Erwin Smith, Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman

Booked Photoshoot Appt. [Request]: “hi so uh i was kind of upset and sad so i didnt read the rules bc i rushed here fkwhcsbfjsj and i needed comfort fics ig?? so um. can you maybe write levi, erwin, or hange coming home late and when they walk into bedroom, s/o is on the bed, laying on their side and silently crying? jfskcksjfnsn its ok if u dont write this i will 101% understand if ur uncomfy writing this ❤️ also take care of urself!! :) i hope ur doing well🥰”

Notes: I'm sorry that you were upset :( I hope you like this (criticism is appreciated) I hope you're taken care of as well - self-care platonic smooches. Your comfort characters love you -daynada

Eyes dreary from sleep deprivation - walking to the bedroom had never felt so continuous after tonight's endless shift. Nonetheless, far more grateful to return to a favorite place next to a dearest person - only to find your quivering body crying so sorrowfully.

Erwin Smith: Breathing out your name like a prayer, the man stands in stupor at the heart-wrenching scene unraveled before him. What could have upset you? Not hearing the opened door creak and your husband's footsteps creep closer, he brushes softly from your shoulder to feel the smoother skin of your neck. How many times will you astonish him with your realness? All that beauty, he gets to witness everyday living together. Now equally stunned at Erwin's arrival, he wryly smiles at your awed wide-eyed reaction. You sit up on your shared bed, bashfully entangling the rough hands of the blonde commander. Planting a lingering graceful kiss on your forehead, he hopes you will remember this forever and always.

"It will not be like this forever. Not for long, I promise you - we will see this through together."

Hange Zoë: As always, the fourteenth commander is rather theatrically dramatic - only in a way to break up the glum apprehension. In a way, it’s quite comedic - the torridly adorning other half spouting nonsense of what could’ve possibly upset you. Nonetheless, the brunette’s humor never fails to tug you out of your foggy mind. Pulling your body from behind, the warm contact of the lovers' body runs yours, securing you in the solitude of warmness and closeness. For Hange, the only thing worth living for is you live life peacefully in this world. As long as you are content - who could ask for more? In a silvery voice calling out your merry pet name, Hange holds you tighter as if you're going to disappear into thin air if your partner lets go. And that idea is far scarier.

"You are not alone~ Okay? It would be impossible for you to push me away! You will never be without me, as I, you."

Levi Ackerman: He is unable to utter a single word. Almost stares too long at your shaking form. Levi would never admit his heart breaks into crumbling pieces watching his important person break in front of him. Seeing you with so much misery, the dark-haired man will do anything to make you feel better. Grabbing his pocket handkerchief, he dotingly wipes the wetness of your cheeks - delicate snivels emit from you. That is when the Ackerman noticed your hands fidget against another, your body turning away from him, seemingly ashamed. As if a light bulb had flickered, he can only figure your embarrassment as finding your lonesomeness weeping but also dealing with the dampness of your tears and snot. But Levi does not deal with you - it has never been and is not an obligation to care for you, never burdening the man. Cupping your cheek, he looks into your eyes as if god had placed starry constellations in them. His voice thickened with concern and genuine tenderness.

“You can cry. You’re allowed to - don’t you ever think otherwise. Never hold back in front of me."

[wishesunderthestars]

Eunoia // Ch. 12

eunoia (noun): beautiful thinking, the possession of a well-balanced mind, which exhibits goodwill and kindness

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

Summary: You are a world famous director and you have dedicated your life to your job.You have everything you could ever dream of; wealth, recognition, talent, your friends and family. But loneliness ins’t cured by success. So what happens when you somehow rescue seven hybrids? Can they fill the void?

Genre: Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

Word Count: 18.1k+

Warnings: Abuse and violence, mentions of past sexual abuse, mentions of putting down hybrids, discussion of insomnia caused by a traumatic event, panic attacks, derogetory language

Masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Phew, that was long one. Please comment and reblog it really motivates me to keep writing. And I always love receiving asks so don’t be shy ;)

"I can't believe this is happening! Why can't I receive good news for once?" After the initial shock, you were fuming. "Work of months has been destroyed and for what? Because someone decided not to take the proper safety measures to save some money. People could have been hurt in there! Seriously hurt. And it would have been on our heads!"  

Namjoon was holding your phone, the email you had received opened on the screen. "You didn't know they hadn't taken the necessary precautions. It wouldn't have been on your head."  

"Can you imagine what would have happened if we had been filming? If the actors and the crew were inside and the building collapsed on us?" The chair scraped against the floor as you raised to your feet. You couldn't stay sitting anymore. "I don't even want to think about that. How many people... If we would even get out of there alive. And it isn't only us. What if the earthquake hadn't hit at night? And the workers were still inside? What then? This is wrong on so many levels I can't even begin to count."  

Five point six Richter. That was the magnitude of the earthquake that had hit Virginia. It had been felt in Washington. They said it had affected a radius of two hundred kilometers around the center of the earthquake. No one had expected it and no one had been prepared. In the email there was a detailed description of how the earthquake had caused the sets for The Raven Cycle to collapse in on themselves, because the respective protection measures hadn't been taken. The earthquake had hit at night, waking up everyone in the area and causing panic as people flooded the streets. They had discovered the ruined sets in the morning.  

Protection measures were of utmost important in every environment and you were baffled that a film studio with such prestige would disregard them so easily. You had half a mind to storm into the building you had just returned from and make a scene in front of everyone. They had put everyone in danger, not only the actors and the crew and all the people working there but also the passersby who could have had metal rods falling on their heads.  

How could they allow this? How could they be so careless? It wasn't a building made for only a couple of days of use with light materials. Filming would take place there for the better part of the summer. In a few months you would have been there. You could have been there.  

"And now you have to leave?" Namjoon asked, jaw tense. "Can't you wait a few days and go later?" You knew what he was thinking. You didn't want to leave either. It was the worst time possible for you to leave. The two hybrids in the guestroom, the injuries you had to tend to, Jimin and Jungkook, Jimin's past. But it wasn't your decision to make.  

"I can't, they have already planned the whole trip. It isn't like I have a choice. The message is clear, I will be flying to Virginia in two days. As the director and showrunner, I have to be there. They have called everyone important in the project and I am one of the lucky ones. And it isn't like I can refuse unless I have a very important reason. And I can't exactly tell them I am nursing to health a stray hybrid until he and his friend can live on their own again, instead of reporting them to the hybrid services."  

Namjoon's face scrunched up at the mention of the services. They were anything but kind to hybrids. They thought they could do anything to them if they were strays before they had to give them to a center. The times he and his small pack had to run away from them weren't few. It disgusted you, the way some people behaved.  

You landed back on your chair with a huff, tired of pacing. Namjoon must have got a headache from the way his eyes were following you. "This is just what I didn't need. I thought we wouldn't have to go to Virginia until summer!"  

You felt like banging your head on the wall but you settled for laying you head on the desk. It collided with a dull thud.  

It wasn't only the destroyed set and what that meant for the show. Slowing down of the production, a larger budget needed (oh, the irony) and the bad press you would get if it got out.

People in the area must have suffered. Flashes of collapsed buildings, shattered windows and  cracks in the streets ran through your mind. No, it couldn't be that bad. You prayed it wasn't that bad.  

Namjoon frowned. "What are you supposed to do there? You aren't going to help rebuild the sets. What do they need you for?" You could see the worry in his eyes. His instincts calling him to protect you, to not let you leave. You appreciated the fact he was fighting it.  

With your cheek squished against the desk you said, "No, I'm not going to rebuild the sets, but they need me there nonetheless. There is a legal part of this whole thing I have to be there for. And me being there might help the ones doing the rebuilding."  

Namjoon sighed, giving up on trying to keep you here. "Will John come with you?"  

"Most likely," you said, raising your head from the desk and sitting back on the chair. Your back hurt from the awkward angle you had bent your body in. "I will ask him but I'm pretty sure he will say yes. He always comes with me when I'm working out of California. He has toured half of the world being my bodyguard. And this time.... This time I don't think he would let me go without him."  

 "It seems you do tend to travel a lot," Namjoon noted. There wasn't any judgment or disdain in his voice, he was simply stating a fact. If anything he looked at the cream and gold world globe on your desk with longing. He had told you he had never left California, created and bred in Los Angeles. You didn't like how he said "created" but you couldn't correct him. "It must be nice seeing all those places."  

 The gold of the globe caught the light, distorted figures moving on the polished surface. "It's nice when it's properly planned and when I actually want to go. And there aren't any natural disasters involved. I can't say that's true this time. It's the furthest it could be from the truth." You groaned. "What am I going to do now? I can't leave like this. There are so many things going on."  

 Namjoon was too close to what he looked like talking to you about the ending of the Book Thief. "How long will you be gone?"  

 "A week?" The email didn't specify. A week was how long most work trips that didn't include filming lasted, but this wasn't a normal work trip. This had never happened to you or to anyone you knew before. You had heard of disasters but nothing like this.  

 Your fingers had subconsciously started drumming a tune on the desk. A tune that had comforted you once. A tune he used to hum long before he turned it into a song. You stilled your hand.  

 An earthquake. Five point six Richter. Shaking buildings, rattling shelves, trembling chandeliers, cupboards opening and dishes and glasses falling to the floor. The kind of thing you see on the TV. The kind of thing you don't ever expect to witness. No one expects a disaster like that to strike out of the blue, but that's the way it is. There is no one to warn you, no one who can.  

 You didn't go to dinner. You told Namjoon not to wait for you, you would eat later. Climbing down the stairs, you stopped in front of the door and knocked. The reply was the same and Yoongi opened the door like every time.  

Every room had a medical kit in the bathroom, the one in this had to be restocked twice in the past few days.  

 Hoseok gave you a small smile and extended his broken arm. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you started telling him of the time you had spent in the Caribbean Sea. You had stayed there for a few months and had spent most of that time in Jamaica and Puerto Rico. The sandy beaches, the endless turquoise sea and the colorful houses didn't fail to bring a smile to your face. The people had been welcoming and kind, eager to help with any problems production faced. They invited you to nights full of dancing and music and included you in everything like you belonged there.  

 The movie you had filmed wasn't one of your biggest hits. It wasn't nominated for an Oscar and although it did earn much recognition and was played at multiple international film festivals, it wasn't as successful as your other films. But it was the most fun you had had filming. The actors were incredible both at their job and out of it. You had spent some of the best nights of your life there.  

 As you fastened the splint in place around Hoseok's arm, you told him of the night they had lit large bonfires along the beach and all the people in the area had gathered around to have a few drinks and dance. Your mind, however, wasn't on the story. A fractured arm and a rib wasn't something you should be treating at home. It didn't matter how many first aid classes you had attended, a lot of things could go wrong. But it was either this or nothing. When you had suggested taking Hoseok to the hospital, Yoongi had almost bitten your head off.  

Hoseok was laying back against the pillows with his eyes clothes when you were done. He was doing better. Having regular meals and being able to wash made the improvement more evident. He didn't complain when you were treating him but you could see his eyes clenching shut when you were applying salve to the most tender spots. The stories helped. They distracted him and you could work easier. He rarely spoke but lately he had been brave enough to voice any questions he had and you had readily answered him. Progress. Progress you hoped wouldn't halt now.  

"This is it for today," you said, rubbing your hands together and getting up. "In a few days you won't have any trouble moving around on your own. Not anything too strenuous, though, no running or jumping around."  

"Thank you." Hoseok spoke softly, like being any louder would break an unspoken rule. Like it would get him punished.  

Yoongi was sitting on the chaise lounge by the glass wall, facing away from you. The fire pits were lit all the way along the balconies, flames licking up the darkness of the night. He didn't look at you while you were there, only stealing glances when he thought you weren't looking. When his eyes met yours he would scowl and look away.  

"There is something I wanted to tell you," you started. You didn't know how else to say it so you jumped in head first. "I was called to Virginia for work. I'll be leaving the day after tomorrow." Yoongi's back stiffened, his tail stilling in the air. Hoseok's eyes turned impossibly wide. "I don't know yet how long I will stay there but it will be some time before I can come back. I thought you should know because I won't be able to treat you."  

Yoongi huffed. "Who will be our caretaker then?"  

You paused by the door. "Do you think you need one?"  

"Is this a joke?" Yoongi's fists clenched. There was no blood on them anymore.  

It wasn’t a secret that hybrids were treated like pets, that included having someone babysit them when the owner was gone. You had been through it before when you had left for New York shortly after you had adopted Namjoon, Jimin and Jungkook. Everyone had expected you to ask someone to take care of them. You hadn’t. They could take care of themselves and each other just fine.

It was the same now.

“If you think you need a caretaker I can hire one for you, but I doubt you do,” you said. “I think you can survive in the Castle without me for a few days. If I’m gone for longer than a week, Helen my housekeeper will come over to do some cleaning. She usually comes over a few times a week. And the gardener comes by quite often. ”  

Yoongi looked stunned but schooled his features quickly. Hoseok’s ears were pinned against his head. You closed the door behind you.

Why did your work’s timing had to always be that bad?

An earthquake. A fucking earthquake.

In the kitchen, the table was served. The mouthwatering smell of the food drifted in the air. Jimin, Namjoon and Jin were sitting around the table, Jungkook absent once again. No one had touched their plates.  

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” you said taking your seat. Your plate was filled with a generous slice of meat pie and fresh salad. Your stomach grumbled. You hadn’t noticed you were that hungry.

“We wanted to wait for you.” Jimin’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, it hadn’t since the day he had come running to you, begging you to take him with you to work. Jungkook spent most of his time at the atelier and he slept in Jin’s room at night. Every time he didn’t show up for meals, the light in Jimin’s eyes dimmed further.

You picked up your fork and knife and cut into the pie. The taste was heavenly, not that you had expected anything else from Jin. You told him so and delighted in the way he got flushed and tried to cover it by a terrible joke he must have come up with on the spot. While you ate, you didn’t speak much, thinking about the best way to bring up the news crawling up your throat. Namjoon squeezed your hand under the table.

When your plates were empty and Jimin was laying his head on Jin’s shoulder, you decided it was time. You put your fork aside. You started by the email, the email that had looked so inconspicuous at first because you received emails like that all the time. An email labeled “important” was often not as important as the people sending it thought it was. You couldn’t have guessed what it contained inside. You hadn’t been prepared.

Your leg was moving up and down on the metal foothold of the stool, mimicking your racing heartbeat. An earthquake had struck Virginia at night. You repeated the dry words of the email, of someone who hadn’t felt the terror of the earth shaking underneath their feet. Five point six Richter, strong enough to knock down the sets they had been building for months. You were required to be there in two days.  

Jimin’s bottom lip was trembling. “How long will you stay?”

You shook your head. It was the same question you were asking and had no answers for. Even if you called someone in the company they wouldn’t have anything but speculations for you. “I hope no more than a week.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Jin asked. “What if there are aftershocks, or if it was a warning for a larger one coming?”

Jin’s question brought an dreadful shine to Jimin’s eyes. You had thought of that as well but your mind was troubled already as it was. Questions of your safety would take this too far. For once, you didn’t trust the company you were working with to keep you safe. You would have to do research before you left and take all the necessary precautions. You wouldn’t risk it like they had.

Namjoon wrapped his hand around his glass but didn’t bring it to his lips. “John will be with her. They will be alright.” It didn’t calm down Jimin who hugged himself tightly, dropping his head to his chest.

You couldn’t watch him suffering anymore. Getting up, you walked to him and hugged his from behind, prying his hands away so they were over yours instead. “I promise I’ll call you every day and we will text. It’s like when I was in New York and you texted me every day about what you got up to and what you were thinking. Your texts made me forget all about work and how tired I was.” Jimin sniffled but his cheeks remained dry. “It’s only a few days. They’ll be over soon. You won’t be alone here.”

Jin ruffled Jimin’s hair and the cat hybrid wrapped one arm around the oldest, pulling him into the hug. You placed a kiss on both their head, making Jin flush again. He wasn’t used to physical attention the way Jimin was but he craved it too and you were trying to make sure he felt as loved as he was.  

Namjoon held Jimin while you and Jin cleaned the table. He grabbed Jimin’s thighs lifting him up and carried him to the living room. The younger laughed all the way there, telling him to put him down. His tight hold around Namjoon’s neck told him a very different thing.

But you weren’t done yet. You had one more person to tell.

The atelier’s door was half open. You knocked once on the wood before opening it all the way. The room could be described as an organized mess. Two canvases were set up in the middle of the room and three half-finished ones stood against the cabinets. The floor was covered in newspapers splattered with all the colors of the rainbow and paint tubes were lined on the tables in no particular order.  

“I finished dinner, you can take it,” he said, gesturing to the tray on one of the tables with the hand not holding a brush.

“That isn’t why I’m here.” One of his ears perked up as you walked closer. The canvas he was working on now was a blend of shades of purple, orange and yellow with no definitive details. “What are you painting.”

He shrugged. “Don’t know yet.” Moving forward with no destination. You knew how that felt.

Jungkook hadn’t distanced himself just from Jimin but from everyone. He didn’t run to you to hug you and scent you when you came back like he used to do. He didn’t come up to the living room to watch TV and talk until you were too exhausted to keep your eyes open. He didn’t show you his progress on the paintings. He didn’t annoy Jin while he cooked (the oldest liked it even if complained). He didn’t come to meals. Meals were family time.

Being in the atelier now was different to any other time. It was the stifling feeling of an empty page, which used to be ecstasy. It was wrong, something missing.

“I have to leave for Virginia the day after tomorrow,” you said, ripping the band-aid off. The times you had said it today were too many. Surprised doe eyes turned to you. You explained the story once again and waited.

Jungkook seemed to be bracing himself for something. “Can you take me with you?”

“Take you with me?” you repeated, dumbfounded.  

He nodded. The brush he had been holding had fallen to the floor at some point painting the newspapers in a shock of deep purple. Neither of you had noticed. “I won’t bother you. I’ll listen to everything you say. You can leave me at the hotel. I won’t cause any trouble, no one will know I’m there.” He lowered his head. “I need to be away from here.”  

“Jungkook…” Your hand touched his cheek and you felt the way he clenched his jaw under the touch. “If this is-”

“Don’t,” he begged, pulling away. A pained desperation coloring his voice. “You don’t know what I did. If you did-” He took a sharp breath. “Can I come with you? Please.”

Stifling. You hadn’t considered taking any of the hybrids with you now. You had planned on inviting them along when you would go there for filming, a much more fun part of your job. This would be a busy trip and most likely far from enjoyable. It could be dangerous. But Jungkook’s eyes were begging you. He was fading away locked up in the atelier avoiding everyone.  

“Okay. If you really want to, you can come with me. I’ll help you pack the essentials,” you said. Jungkook visibly relaxed. Maybe you should have pressed more. Insisted on him speaking with Jimin before you left or after you came back. But you were exhausted and a headache was brewing behind your temples.  

Jungkook glanced at a canvas covered with a white sheet at a corner. You’d let it go for now.

When Jimin sneaked into your room late into the night, you didn’t say anything pulling up the covers in a silent invitation. Jimin crawled underneath and hid in your arms. Against every expectation you fell asleep. Orange bottle untouched in the bathroom cabinet.

The days leading up to your departure were every kind of hectic. Panic had taken over the studios and the atmosphere was tense in every meeting. No one wanted to admit the colossal mistake that could have cost the lives of so many people. The press was another matter entirely. The project could get a bad reputation before it was aired. It was emotionally exhausting, your brain working in overdrive, coming up with solutions to problems that may or may not arise. You had to be prepared for the worst.

At home it wasn’t much better. You had started packing for the weird end-of-spring weather in Virginia. The Raven Cycle books and a little research had provided you with enough information about what to expect. Dry, warm and with a possibility of thunderstorms. It could also get cold at night so you made sure to pack a few sweatshirts.  

You helped Jungkook pack his things in a similar way. He had a habit of wearing long sleeves even when it was hot so you packed a few more sweatshirts and hoodies for him. He continued not talking much but he looked calmer now that you were leaving. All you wanted to do was hug him and tell him everything was going to be alright. But you didn’t think that would be welcome.

Jimin had timidly offered to take care of Hoseok’s injuries while you were gone. You hesitated at first. While they had been here Jimin and Yoongi hadn’t interacted much. You had expected they would talk, figure out the strange tension between them, but they had kept to themselves. You gave in in the end. The worst had come and passed and you trusted Jimin to provide the basic care Hoseok needed.  

He came with you to their room before dinner and you explained to him what you were doing. Hoseok was a little more withdrawn than usual but  he didn’t protest, smiling at Jimin.

You had a long talk with Namjoon in your office the night before the day you were scheduled to leave. There were a lot of things to talk about and you tried to get everything out. All your worries and all the things you thought he should know. When you were spent and his reassurances were buried deep in your chest, he brought you close to him, rubbing his face in your neck. He places light kissed on your skin, his lips trailing up until they were touching yours.

The house was silent. You opened your eyes blearily, staring at your phone. The ringing of the alarm had stopped, leaving large numbers reading the time on the screen. The blinds were closed hiding the morning from you.  

There was a weight on your chest. You looked down to find tired eyes staring up at you. Jimin made a small sound in the back of his throat and nuzzled against you. His blond hair was soft against your fingers as you combed through it. A loud purr escaped him as you scratched the base of his cat ears. He held on to you tighter but the alarm was clear, you needed to get up and get ready. You had a flight to catch.

“No, don’t go,” Jimin whined.

You massaged his head down to his neck. “I have to get up. I’ll miss the plane if I’m late.”

In the shadows of the room you could see the pout on his full lips. “What if you miss it?”

“If I miss it, I’ll get in trouble. And I’d rather not get in trouble.” Jimin snuggled closer to you and you could smell the vanilla shampoo he loved. Mia had said in the early days that she had smelt vanilla and muffins on you and you had guessed that was Jimin’s scent. The shampoo must serve to accentuate his natural scent.  

His cat ears lowered as his tail wrapped around your bare leg. You suppressed a shudder at the feeling of the soft fur against your skin. “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”

“I know, that’s why I have to go.” You untangled yourself from the hybrid and pressed the button for the blinds to retreat. The morning light spilled into the room. It caught on Jimin’s curls painting them golden. You had an urge to capture the moment with your camera, the way he looked so soft, hair mussed and eyes still dreaming. Carving the image in your memory, you walked to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for the day.

Getting dressed for a flight was different than getting dressed for any other work day. You liked to wear something comfortable that wouldn’t look too bad on camera. You weren’t the kind of celebrity to get mobbed every time you went out but sometimes paparazzi could get wind of where you were going and show up at the airport. When you were traveling for premieres or events, fans and paparazzi would fill the place.  

The previous night you had set aside a pair of loose black pants and a red top. You would also take your leather jacket with you because it could get chilly on the plane.  

Jimin, wearing his stripped white and blue pajamas with the little pink hearts, clung to you like a koala all the way to breakfast. He only let go of you when you placed your large black bag on the floor and took a seat at the kitchen island. Jin was finishing up with cooking, taking the pots off the stove. Breakfast was almost ready.

John would be coming later to drive you to the airport. The black SUV had turned into a sign you would be traveling. Because of the sheer volume of the luggage you always ended up with, a large car was needed to drive you to and from the airport. This time you had packed two suitcases and your handbag. You had been tempted to fill a sac-voyage as well but you quickly abandoned the thought.  

Namjoon arrived, looking wide awake. The opposite of Jimin and his drooping eyes. Only one was missing. And you weren’t compromising today.

“Jungkook?” you asked. The others exchanged a glance. It told you enough. “I’m going to go get him. I’ll be back in a minute.”

Their gazes followed you as you left. They probably didn’t believe you could get him to come up. And any other day that could have been the case.  

The door of the atelier was closed but you were sure Jungkook was inside. The amount of time he had been spending in there was unhealthy but you were the last person who could judge him, having spent the majority of your so called break in your office. You knocked three times before opening the door.

Jungkook was sitting on the floor in the middle of the room, lost in a place that used to scream comfort. Did it still? You couldn’t feel it anymore. The canvases were all in their places and the paints and brushes had been tidied up. Sitting on the paint splattered newspapers in his completely black clothes, Jungkook looked lost.

“We’re having breakfast upstairs,” you said.

Jungkook’s eyes cleared, just enough for most of the fog to disappear. One bunny ear drooped down and he swiped it away from his face. “Can’t Jin bring it to me?”

You shook your head. “Jin isn’t bringing anything to you. You will be coming to breakfast and eat with us like you used to.”

He lowered his head, both ears falling in his face. “I can’t.”

“You very much can and you will.” You tried to be gentle but you were firm on this. “You will come up and we will all eat breakfast together. We are leaving in a few hours for the other side of the United States and I have no idea when we will be back. You aren’t doing anything here and everyone wants to see you and spend some time together.”

“Not everyone.” It was so low he probably hadn’t meant for you to hear.

“Everyone,” you said, kneeling by his side. “Everyone wants to see you.” You brushed his bangs off his face, petting his ears in the process. He didn’t relax the way he usually did, melting in your hands, but he did lean into the touch. “One breakfast. That’s all I’m asking for. You said you’d listen to me if I took you with me to Virginia.”

He couldn’t disagree with that and when you offered him your hand he took it.  

Jungkook and Jimin had had a special bond. That first night you had seen it in the way Jimin cried begging you to help Jungkook, to heal him. You had seen it in the way Jungkook, beat up and having trouble breathing, was asking Jimin if he was injured, if he needed to be treated first and Jimin had cried every time Jungkook flinched but smiled and squeezed his hand to ease the pain. Nothing had changed the longer you spent with them, the way they loved and cared for each other only becoming more apparent.

Jungkook had gone to Namjoon crying, saying he had hurt Jimin but you couldn’t imagine him doing anything but loving him. Misunderstandings preyed on everyone and they were hungry for those who loved each other. They would get through it, you assured yourself. They were strong and they cared too much to continue hurting each other like this. You cared too much too, you wouldn’t let this get out of hand.

They needed a break, that’s what it was. Jungkook had been right, the trip would help put some distance between them to think clearer. You would make sure when you returned they would be ready to face whatever had happened between them.

Jimin lit up at seeing Jungkook but the light dimmed when the younger didn’t even glance his way. You sighed into your orange juice.

After breakfast Jungkook carried up his suitcase while you went to another room. Three knocks and a question of who it was. It had become routine. Hoseok smiled at you, he had been doing that more and more.  

You sat down at the side of the bed, Yoongi watching you from the chaise lounge, his ears standing alert. “I’m just here to check on you one last time before I go. Jimin will take over after this.”

Hoseok was sitting with his back against the headboard. He hadn’t been able to do that without hurting the first days. “When will you be leaving?”

Touching his arm to inspect it, you said, “John will be here in about thirty minutes but the flight isn’t for another two hours. We have to be early at the airport because the process to get on the plane takes a long time. Do you want to hear about the first time I got on a plane? That’s a funny story.”

Hoseok nodded enthusiastically so you started recounting the time you were sixteen and you had to take a plane to get to the film festival that was held in France. The short film you had directed would be played there. The only problem was that you had never been on a plane before and the prospect of flying wasn’t appealing to you in the least. It just happened that the flight was far from calm.

The check up was finished halfway through the story but Hoseok touched your arm, wordlessly asking you to finish it. At your arrival in France Hoseok’s smile dissolved.  

“I have to get going, John will be here soon,” you said getting up. Hoseok had met John only after you had told him of the time both of you had gotten lost in London. John had been insisting he knew what he was doing leading you deeper into the maze of streets. Because of that a few more stories the bodyguard had guest-starred in, the fox hybrid hadn’t looked as terrified as some people did at the side of the giant of a bodyguard.

“Thank you for,” he gestured to himself “this. And the stories. Thank you for the stories.”

You stopped by the door. “It was my pleasure.”

John was at the Castle right on time, parking the SUV close to the front door. He helped you carry everything to the car, which meant he carried the three suitcases while Jungkook insisted he could help. The bunny hybrid did help but only because John took pity on him and let him help with putting the suitcases in the trunk.  

You lowered your sunglasses. No wind and no cloud in sight. You would have a calm trip.  

You hugged all the hybrids, letting them scent you. Jimin’s eyes were growing misty and you hugged him extra hard assuring him you would be back soon. You rubbed your forehead against Jin’s and kissed his cheek in goodbye, his skin warming up under your lips. Goodbyes were hard and you’d thought you’d gotten used to them. Saying goodbye to Taylor and Zayn before tours, to your aunt the rare times you could visit her, to your friends, to the actors and the crew.  

And yet your chest was tight.

Namjoon was talking with John by the car and you heard him asking John to take care of you and Jungkook. John replied he would protect you with his life. John was your bodyguard but this had been more than a job to him for a long time.

From the corner of your eye you saw Jimin approach Jungkook. He reached to touch him, hug him. Jungkook flinched. Jimin’s hand hovered in the air before going limp. He backed away, his chin dropping to his chest and jaw trembling.  

You bit the inside of your cheek. A hand landed on your shoulder and you turned to find Namjoon standing next to you. You weren’t the only one who had watched the youngests’ exchange. You hid in his arms, forgetting about the world for a moment. The two hybrids who loved each other too much, the trip you had to take, production being halted, that godforsaken earthquake. He nosed along your neck, his warm breath tingling your skin.  

Jungkook got into the car first, an escape, and you followed soon after, a necessity. The house got smaller and smaller behind you as the car drove away. The Castle fading in the distance. Another trip. Different reasons, a different disaster, but familiar territory. Once you used to be excited about these trips, exploring a new place and living new experiences. Where had that part of yourself gone?  

But you weren’t alone this time. Jungkook was looking out of the window, his head laying against the glass. You would take him to that yogurt shop you had liked so much and you would show him the park you wanted to film at and take him to that endearing small cinema. Yeah, you would do that.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The hotel towered over the rest of the buildings in the area. It wasn’t the same one you had stayed on your first visit last year, more grand and definitely more expensive. The company had gone all out. An admirable attempt to quell your anger, yet it continued simmering underbeath your skin. A young man was waiting for you outside, taking the suitcases from the car and leading you to the lobby.  

Jungkook looked around with wide eyes and an open mouth. There was so much glass and marble, almost everything was made using these two materials.  

The receptionist smiled at you wide, her teeth white and straight like her uniform. She welcomed you to the hotel and handed you two key cards, white with a gold line on front and the room numbers in cursive. Two cards.

“I was sure I’d forgotten something,” you muttered.

The receptionist’s smile faltered. “Is something not to your liking, miss?”  

Two cards. One for your room and one for John’s. You had notified the company about Jungkook accompanying you but you hadn’t requested another room. Granted, you had thought they would come to the conclusion on their own. One more room would have cost them a lot, though. Easy way out. But you couldn’t exactly blame them. At hotels, owners rarely bothered to spend money on a room for their hybrids.

You held the cards like a magician ready to do a trick, showing them to John.  

“Shouldn’t there be one more?” he asked.

The woman behind the desk blinked a few times. “More? Two rooms were booked in the name Y/N Y/L/N. Is there a problem?”

You sighed. “No, I guess there isn’t. Or there wasn’t supposed to be.” Jungkook watched the exchange shifting from foot to foot. His black hoodie was a size too big and he was drowning in it. “Do you have any available rooms in the same floor.”

“I’m afraid we don’t, miss. The rooms on the top floor are all booked for the night.”

“Great.” You couldn’t think of another solution, you would have to make do. “Thank you. We’ll be going now.”

“Have a nice stay,” the receptionist said.

The elevator was as luxurious as the lobby, a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. John had your black bag slung over his shoulder. The man with your suitcases was already gone, you would find them in your rooms when you arrived. There was a mirror to your left and leaning your back against the wall your gazed at your reflection. With your black circles hidden with concealer and carefully applied makeup, you looked just a little tired from the flight. You had brushed your hair on the plane and it fell in waves over your shoulders, curling at the tips.

Jungkook hadn’t been to a hotel before and it showed as he tried to take everything in. The lights that were on even in the afternoon, the golds and whites, the mirrors and glass and the velvet seats. It was wonderful but still it wasn’t the best hotel you had stayed at.

The elevator’s doors opened with a ding and you walked into the well-lit corridors. Doors were on either side with a sitting area at the front. You had stayed in many hotels over the years but they were nothing more than a place for rest. Sleep and shower, that’s all you did in your room. And sometimes breakfast or dinner if you didn’t feel like going out.  

Stopping in front of a white door, you checked the numbers on the cards again. The two rooms were very close, only a few meters distance from each other.

Two rooms. Right.

You handed John his key card. “So, we’ve got two rooms…” Jungkook looked at you curiously. “I hope you don’t mind staying in my room with me for now. Unless you would prefer staying with John and his snoring.”

John pointed a finger at you. “Hey, I don’t snore.”

You hummed. “Sure you don’t. What I have been hearing all those years must be the pigs outside.”  

Jungkook was trying to hide his laughter behind his hand and doing a poor job of it.

John dropped your bag by your feet. “Do you hear her? No respect for me. That’s what I get for listening to your every whim for years. I’ll go to my room now and snore in peace.”

You giggled as John struggled to swipe the key card right. With an ‘aha’, he managed to open the door and get inside. You swiped your own card, the door clicking open at the first try. Both of you had been doing it for years but John was more of a fan of traditional keys.  

The company had booked a suite for you, which you guessed was one of the best in the hotel. The door opened to a grand living room with white velvet couches and armchairs and a 75 inch TV. You took off your sneakers before stepping on the wool carpet, it was white with veins of gold running through it.

You fell on the couch, taking off your backpack and placing it on the floor. “I’m sorry for this, I thought they would book three rooms for us.”

Jungkook looked at you from where he was still standing by the door, his hands pulling at the straps of his backpack. “Why would they book three rooms?” There was a gap here. Hybrids stayed with their owners, that was the norm. You realized that was what he had expected.

“We are three people. I thought you would want your own room. I told them you would be coming with me for the tickets but they didn’t change the rooms they had booked.” You threw your head back and closed your eyes. “Everything is going so well already.”

There a shuffling of feet from the door. “I thought… I can stay with John if he doesn’t mind or… I can…”

You opened your eyes. Jungkook was looking at the floor, his ears drooped at the sides of his head. “What are you talking about?”

Jungkook hugged himself. “I don’t want to bother you.”

And it clicked. You got up from the couch. “Oh, bunny. You aren’t bothering me. I only wanted one more room because I thought that’s what you wanted, that you wanted your own space.” You didn’t touch him, remembering him flinching and pulling away, but you stayed close to show him you were there for him.  

“Oh, I-” He flushed, not knowing what to say. You had been past that stage and it was unfortunate to see the shyness and hesitance come back.

“Come on, take off your shoes,” you said, motioning for him to come further into the room. “I desperately need a shower. Then we can rest. I don’t have to do anything until late tonight. Do you want to go in first?”

Jungkook sat down gingerly on the couch. “No, no, you can go in first. I think I’ll sleep a little.”

You stopped him before he could lay down. “Here?”

Confused, he looked around at the furniture. “Should I take the smaller couch?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said. “But there is a huge bed in the bedroom. If you feel uncomfortable though, I could take the couch.”

Jungkook shot up at that. “No, no way. You have work, you should sleep in the bed.” The redness creeped into his cheeks again. “I would like… I would like to share, if that’s alright.”

You gave him a smile. “That’s more than alright. Come in, then.”

You were planning to make the most out of this trip.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Jimin had memorized everything you had said about checking and treating Hoseok’s injuries. He had memorized the pills he was taking, the salves you used and the times you checked on him during the day. Before you left, he had even looked up all the injuries Hoseok had on Google and read all the information he could find. You had told him Hoseok was well on his way to recovery and he didn’t have to worry much. But he was worried. He was very worried.

He had thought he had been ready, that he could do this. But standing outside their door, second thoughts were smothering him.

What if he did something wrong and he hurt him? What if he made everything worse? If he pressed too hard, if he used the wrong cream, if he wrapped the bandages wrong…  

Seokjin would have been much better at this. He took care of them like a parent, he would have been a better choice than Jimin. But Seokjin was the one to cook all their meals, he had enough on his plate. Yoongi could have done it but… He had only glared at you and sneered something that sounded very much like a refusal.

Yoongi…

He hadn’t talked to him since the day he had chased him to the alleyway. The older didn’t leave the room he shared with Hoseok unless it was absolutely necessary. Jimin didn’t know what he had expected, but it wasn’t this… This stasis they were trapped in. He had expected someone yelling, accusing. Sharp words, that didn’t match the soft voice he had been used to. There had been none of that. Nothing at all. He wasn’t sure what he preferred.

Hoseok smiled a little at him when he walked into the room. He was sitting up in his bed with his reddish tail in his lap. Yoongi, laying in his own bed, didn’t acknowledge him but his dark eyes were burning Jimin’s skin when he wasn’t looking.  

Hoseok patted the bed with the hand that wasn’t in a cast. His smile was smaller than it had been in the morning. Your absence wasn’t affecting only them. Jimin had heard you telling stories to Hoseok, you had done the same with Jungkook. But he had no stories to tell, nothing worth sharing. He hadn’t traveled the world, he didn’t have interesting and famous friends, he didn’t have a job or childhood memories by the beach.  

Silence spread, only broken by his apologies every time Hoseok winced. He was holding back for his sake and it made his stomach clench. He left the room like there were hell-hounds on his heels.  

The second day you were gone everyone woke up early in the morning, like all the days they had to be up early to see you before leaving for work. You might not be there but his body demanded he wake up and drag his feet upstairs for breakfast. A book was laying cover up on the table. One of the leather-bound classics you kept on the top shelves of the library. Namjoon read it at night before going to sleep.

Seokjin placed a plate of pancakes in front of Jimin. Pancakes were his favorite.

Belly full, he trudged to the second level.  

“Good morning,” he greeted, coming through the door.

Hoseok’s fox ears twitched. “Good morning,” he said with a small smile. Yoongi remained silent, standing by the glass wall.  

Jimin fetched the medical kit from the bathroom. Everything he would need was in there. “Did you sleep well?” He tried to make conversation. It wasn’t easy when he felt like he could erupt at any moment with Yoongi’s gaze on him. If he hurt Hoseok, Yoongi would never look at him again. Or he could do so much worse. But Jimin had already lost him years ago.  

“Yeah,” Hoseok replied, fumbling with the blanket he was sitting on. “I had a weird dream. About being at the lake. There was a statue there and he was talking… It was good, though.”

There was a small Greek style statue on the half-empty shelves of the room, a Kouros you had explained to him. “It must be because of that.” Jimin motioned to the shelves. “There are pieces of ancient Greece all over the house. The first show Y/N directed was about Persephone and Hades, the Greek god of the dead. Greek mythology has a special place for her.”

“She talked to me about Greece a little but she didn’t say anything about the show,” Hoseok said.

Jimin opened the medical kit, remembering watching the episodes one after the next, hanging from every word the characters said. “The show is so good! I couldn’t stop watching it, I didn’t want to get out of the cinema room for anything. The characters were perfect, Persephone was so sweet and kind but she-” He stopped himself, cutting off his rambling. The cream in his hand was getting warm.

Hoseok sat up straighter to help his work. “But what? Why did you stop?”

Jimin startled. He could at least do this, he could speak about the show. He had watched the episodes multiple times and he had asked you so many questions, some of which you hadn’t talked your way around. Hoseok didn’t wince as much as the first time and maybe Jimin go a little carried away, but he didn’t make any mistakes and Hoseok even asked questions and talked with him.  

The cat hybrid had to suppress the shivers the eyes on his back sent down his spine.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

Greek gods, fantasy, romance and mysteries. That’s what made you rich. That’s what got you this huge house and more money than anyone would ever see in their lives. The Castle. Yoongi scoffed. What a pretentious name for an even more pretentious house, but that was the way it worked.  

Yoongi disliked rich people on principle. Privileged, arrogant and self-entitled were only a few of the adjectives he would use to describe them. They thought they could control anyone because they had money and money made the world go round. Money could get you everything and that’s what they wanted. Everything. In long coats and designer sunglasses looking for entertainment in the most dubious places, feeding off the struggle of the others. Watching enraptured as others fought for their lives.

All of them were the same. It didn’t matter if they were hiding behind smiling masks or surface philanthropic acts. They were the same. And you were just like them. He refused to believe anything else. Despite how hard it was getting. But every time he was slipping, he would remember the pleads and rough hands. His resolve didn’t crack.

He heard all the stories you told Hoseok. Not that he wanted to but there wasn’t a chance he would leave him alone with you. Most of them were funny and although he didn’t want to admit, there were parts the corners of his mouth had lifted up without his permission. He was grateful for those stories, they made Hoseok forget. One rare time, when you were telling him about a disaster on set that involved three spoons, a maraca and a lost script, Hoseok had giggled and Yoongi’s heart had come close to bursting out.  

Every morning and every night you would have a different story for him and it made Yoongi wonder if they were all true or if you were coming up with them on the spot. Not that it mattered, it made Hoseok smile and that was enough. Yoongi had found himself waiting for the times you would come into their room and start talking. You had a way with words.

And now you were gone, leaving them alone in the house, alone with no one watching over them like a guard dog (except that damned wolf hybrid, but that was another case entirely). There were a few things he knew about the world and one of them was that hybrids weren’t left alone in a house that cost more than his handlers would make in their whole lives. He didn’t like surprises and he hated how full of them you were.  

Jimin had been the one to take over and you must have been somewhere in Virginia laughing at Yoongi’s expense. The younger looked good, his cheeks were full and there was a certain glow on his soft skin. Jimin had always looked beautiful but now he was ethereal. He couldn’t keep his eyes away.

Hoseok pressed a few buttons on the TV remote and groaned. After Jimin’s excitement about the show in the morning, he had decided he would watch the show. Jimin had showed him how to put it on but Hoseok was having some trouble.

“Give that to me,” Yoongi grumbled, taking the remote. He searched for the title among the options (there were too many of them).  

Hoseok pointed at one of the pictures. “That’s it! That’s it! “Land of the Gods”.”

A girl wearing a flower crown was gazing at him from the screen. He clicked on the picture and the synopsis and the episode list appeared. “Are you seriously going to watch that?”

“It must be good if Jimin was so excited about it. He was so excited he got me excited.” A smile stretched his lips. Yoongi was weak.

“What do you know about Greek mythology?”

Hoseok shrugged. “Not much but I don’t think I need to. The show has to be good if it got her where she is now. I’m sure she must have been great at her job to be this successful.”

If anything, there was no doubt you were successful. He could see it everywhere he looked. One night he had been watching the news, Hoseok long asleep, and they had talked about your newest project set to start filming in May. One of the greatest directors of our generation, they had called you, predicting high ratings and large audiences. But success didn’t necessarily mean talent and Yoongi told himself he didn’t care enough to see if you had it.

Contemplating, he sat on the bed by Hoseok’s side. “We should discuss when we are leaving.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened, his tail fluffing up. “Leaving?”

“Yeah, leaving. You’re better, aren’t you? We should be gone before she comes back.” Yoongi threw the remote on the bed.

“Oh.” Hoseok’s fox ears lowered. “I wanted to thank her, it feels wrong to leave like this.”

Yoongi sighed. He could understand Hoseok, he didn’t want to leave either. He wasn’t stupid. Having a warm meal three times a day was more than they could dream of in the streets. It was more than they could dream of when they had a roof over their heads and murky water on their tongues. These few days Yoongi had eaten and slept more than he had in three years but it had to end. It was nothing more than a polished dream. He didn’t want your pity and he wouldn’t have accepted to come here if it hadn’t been for Hoseok.

“I think she would appreciate us leaving more than a thank you,” Yoongi said. “We don’t know how long she will be gone and we have already overstayed our welcome.”

“We… yeah.” Hoseok gave in. “But you should talk to Jimin before we go.” Yoongi stiffened. “I have seen the way you look at him, you know. I heard you that first day. He is the only reason we are here now. I can connect the dots. I don’t ask you about your past because I know it hurts you but I ask you this. Talk to him before we go. Jimin… Jimin looks like a part of your past that shouldn’t hurt this much.”

Yoongi clenched his jaw. Because Jimin was the most painful part of his past. Everything that had happened to him, everything he had been through didn’t hold anything to the pain he felt when thinking about Jimin and his delicate features. Nothing hurt more than the images of that night ingrained in his brain. He didn’t deserve to forget, he didn’t even try.  

“I can’t talk to him.”

Hoseok scooted closer and Yoongi reached to steady him. The fox hybrid would laugh at him, he had the all clear to move on his own and he didn’t need help with something as simple as this, but he didn’t push him away. “Why not?  

“I just can’t.” Hoseok raised his eyebrows at him. “Hobi, just let it go. Jimin wouldn’t want to talk to me, there is too much you don’t know.”

Hoseok turned his head away. “Yes, because you don’t tell me.”

“Hobi…” Yoongi placed a hand on his shoulder, rubbing comforting circles, there were no bruises there. “What happened, it’s better if you don’t know. I don’t want any more people being haunted by what I did.”

Hoseok’s eyes softened, taking Yoongi’s hands in his own. Every touch from Hoseok was like a brush with the sun. “If you think anything you say could change my opinion of you, you don’t know me at all. You saved me, Yoongi. You saved me when I thought I was done for, when I thought I wouldn’t live to see another day. If you weren’t there, if I didn’t have you…” A shaky breath fell past his lips. He squeezed Yoongi’s hands in his and Yoongi squeezed back. “I would have never gotten out without you. You are all I have.”

Yoongi touched Hoseok’s cheek, nosing against his neck and breathing in the scent of cinnamon. “And you’re all I have.”

The first episode of “Land of the Gods” played as Yoongi laid next to Hoseok with the younger’s head on his chest.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The workers kept looking at you like children who had been caught stealing cookies from the cookie jar and it wasn’t even their fault. They had been following instructions and using the materials the company had sent. The one who had decided to forgo the safety measures because they were too expensive had yet to admit to anything, but a storm was brewing and you would watch until the end. They could say whatever they wanted about you but no one’s life was at risk on your watch.  

You hadn’t been alone in the sentiment, most of your co-workers siding with you and calling meetings after meetings on the matter. You had taken it up to yourself to send a lengthy email to the president and were waiting for a reply that wouldn’t take long to come.

In the meantime, you were stuck with damage control. The meticulously designed sets had turned into ruins and rubble. A lot of expensive equipment had been destroyed and the replacements had yet to arrive. The first night you had a short meeting at a building the company was renting and then drove to the set to survey the damage. You had gritted your teeth at the sight of broken blocks like legos. There was nothing more to see.

You came back with heavy limbs and dust on your jeans. The air-conditioning was on and Jungkook was sitting on the couch watching a superhero movie. It wasn’t one you recognized, an older one than those you usually watched. You changed into your pajamas after taking a shower for the third time in a day (your skin barrier was set to be destroyed soon) and joined him in the living room. Neither of you had had dinner so you ordered food from the first place you found on the web. The delivery was fast and you settled on the couch, eating pizza and watching an old Samuel L. Jackson film.

Fortunately, the earthquake hadn’t caused any major disasters but you had heard that a couple of people had been injured. The most damage in the area had been to the TV show sets. That was alright, you could work on that.  

Your schedule wasn’t much different from usual. You woke up early, the sun peaking over the horizon and showering the room in its morning glow through the thin curtains. Reaching for your phone, you turned off the  alarm before it could start ringing. You woke up earlier but you scheduled it every night regardless of that. Jungkook blinked his eyes open as soon as you moved a little, he was used to waking up early too.  

At breakfast it was only the two of you, John and the hotel staff. It was way too early for anyone else. Jungkook didn’t leave the hotel and you spent most of the day outside. The first days were the most crucial and therefore the most busy. Go there, take this, fill this out, talk to him/her. An endless task list. And there were a lot of things you had to figure out yourself.

“You should come with me today,” you said, digging your spoon into the bowl of yogurt. You ate a generous breakfast to propel through the morning.  

“T-to work?” Jungkook stuttered, his hand loosening around the spoon. He was eating pancakes with maple syrup and you had a feeling about who he was thinking of.

You rolled the spoon between your fingers. “Well, you don’t have to come to work with me. We could drop you off at a coffee shop or a park if you want to. You can’t stay cooped up in the hotel room all day.”

John nodded in agreement. “I think it’s a good idea. You need some fresh air, staying in three rooms can’t be good for you.”

Jungkook dropped his head to hide his flushed cheeks. “I’m alright here, you don’t have to worry about me. Really.”

“But that’s what I’ll do at work if you stay in here for one more day,” you said. “You can go anywhere, there is a whole city to explore. And if I have any breaks I can call and I’ll come find you.”

Jungkook looked down at the pancakes. “I don’t think I should be out alone.”

“Of course you can. You can wear a collar and no one will say anything. We packed a few didn’t-?” Wearing a collar would protect him from the hybrid services, especially with your name and number engraved in the back of a charm. But you realized it wasn’t hybrid services he was afraid of. A hybrid alone in the streets could be an easy target, Jimin and Jungkook had been together that night and still… But it was broad daylight. “John could come with you,” you offered.

“No, no, he should be with you,” Jungkook protested weakly.

You exchanged a look with John, after years you were perfect at reading each other. “I actually think John would have a much better time with you. The only thing he does with me is follow me around and wait for the day to end. And it’s not like I’m in any danger there, I’m surrounded by a lot of people and some of the places have security so…”

“Or she’s trying to get rid of me,” John said, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Not that I’m complaining, waiting outside of those meetings gets very boring very quickly. Who will drive you?”

“It won’t be hard to find someone. I’ll catch a ride with Will, he has plenty of space in his car.” Will was the assistant director and he had been dragged to Virginia with you. When you worked it was rare to find one without the other. He had been with you for a few years and he was your right hand on set, he could get everything you asked done in a matter of seconds and often better than you could have done them yourself.  

Satisfied, John finished his sandwich. “It’s settled then, I’ll go with the guy while you run around like a mad woman.”

“It isn’t so much running around today,” you mumbled. In comparison to other days, that was.

Jungkook picked up his fork again, his nose twitching. “Thank you, but I really don’t know where to go.”

You smiled. “That’s the most exciting part. There are so many places you can choose from. John knows the area a little, he knows a few places worth visiting.” John saluted with two fingers on his temple. “Is there something you want to do?”

Jungkook shrugged. “The park maybe? I would like to walk a little if that’s alright.”

“Fine by me,” John said. “Let’s reconnect with Mother Nature a little.”

You shook your head. “As if the sets aren’t in the middle of nowhere. They’re like thirty to forty minutes from the city, I spend most of my day in a car.”

“Stop complaining. It’s partly your fault,” John reminded you, which only caused you to complain more.

Jungkook let out a cute giggle at your bickering. He looked small in his oversized hoodie, it was a gray one this time with design of black swirls interwining and forming a heart. He would have to change before going out. He would melt otherwise.  

They dropped you off at the set, having spent most of the thirty minute drive (John was a fast driver, always following the speed limit though) listening to music and talking about whatever came to mind. Jungkook had insisted on coming with when John dropped you off instead of waiting at the hotel for John to come back. He didn’t care that the drive would be more than an hour for him. You stepped out of the car, adjusted your backpack with all the papers and files inside and sent flying kisses to them while John rolled his eyes.

It was one of the good days, everyone was in a relatively good mood, they were listening to you and the conversations about the problems you were facing rolled smoothly. Will had taken over some of the most tiring tasks ignoring your protests so you were left to do most of the talking and the moral support part.  

They worked quickly but there was no doubt that the sets wouldn’t be ready for filming to start on the initial date you had set, you would have to rely more on the sets in Los Angeles and film some scenes earlier than planned. Time was precious and you couldn’t waste it sitting around doing nothing.

Will was more than happy to give you a ride back to the city, you had many things to discuss on the way. You hadn’t been at this park before. It wasn’t the one you were considering for filming but it was just as nice. John had texted you where they were and you had typed the address in Will’s GPS. It was way past lunch and you wondered if they hadn’t left the park since the morning. That was a lot of hours spent in a park.

You followed the cobblestone path, tall trees framing the way adorned with green leaves and tiny flowers. Sending a quick message to John asking him about more specific directions, you stopped at a bridge arching over a small river and rested your elbows on the railing waiting for the reply.  

You missed home in a way you hadn’t before. Home hadn’t always been Los Angeles, it had taken a long time for you to see it that way. It had been your hometown at first and that would always remain a part of you but it had been years since you had stayed there for more than two weeks. Home had been a suitcase and a vague idea of belonging for the most of your adult life. Being at a new place every few months, often more than that, you traveled and met people, you explored new places and learnt their secrets and culture. Los Angeles was just the base you returned to before you were gone again.

And then you had met Taylor and Zayn and suddenly you had a reason to come back other than necessity. They had become your closest friends and you held a new appreciation for the city because that’s where you spent time with them, strolling through the streets and going to the beach or staying inside watching movies or baking.  

And through Zayn you had met Jacob and Los Angeles became more and more to you. The two of you had decided to build your life there together. That was gone now but the City of Angels had sneaked into your heart and made a home for itself there. Yet you hadn’t missed it like this before.  

Texts and calls were fine for some time but not nearly enough. Jungkook was withdrawn while you talked to the other hybrids and Jimin’s voice got smaller and smaller every time the youngest refused to speak with him until he stopped trying. Namjoon and Jin tried to comfort him but the only person who could help was the one shutting him out. On top of that, Jimin tended to Hoseok’s wounds, the two hybrids were still at the Castle and you hoped they wouldn’t leave until you got back. You wanted to check in with Hoseok one more time before they were gone, back to the streets.  

The streets… Those damn streets. Where Hoseok had been beat up, where Jimin and Jungkook had been attacked, where they didn’t know which day would be their last, starving or being beaten to death. You had done all you could, when they refused any more help, but it wasn’t enough. It couldn’t be enough.

A whistle made you turn around.

“Are you going to stand there all day?” John called to you.

“Me?” you called back. “How long have you been here? Did you eat lunch?”

“We went to a restaurant nearby, John ordered the best from the menu. I told him to wait for you but he said you would be late,” Jungkook said.

You ruffled his hair and he shuffled closer to you. “Late… I’m not late, I didn’t say I would be back for lunch.”

Jungkook chuckled. “When are you back for lunch?”

You gasped. “You have been spending too much time with John. He’s corrupting you!”

On the other side of the bridge, the path opened up to a large expanse of grass with a few trees sprinkled in. Jungkook had his sketchpad with him and sat down against a tree with pieces of black charcoal, a method he had been experimenting with.  

Next to him, you pulled out a notebook from your backpack, it was your personal space where you could write anything and everything. Drawing faint thick lines on the paper, Jungkook told you excitedly about his day with John, who was sitting at a bench talking on the phone with his family.  

A shine you hadn’t seen in a while was back in Jungkook’s eyes. You took photos and sent them to the hybrids at home and rolled around in the grass. He pointed at the clouds and what each of them looked like. There was turtle, an elephant and a vase, although you insisted it looked more like an Egyptian cat.

Jungkook came with you to work later and although he was shy and stayed away from everyone else, trailing behind you like a lost puppy, he was smiling. Fascinated, he listened to your conversations about the show and the sets and admired the designs. Your co-workers cooed at the cute bunny hybrid and he flushed hiding behind you.  

When the day was over and you were back at the hotel, you realized it was the most fun you’d had since coming to Virginia. Freshly showered with his wet hair sticking to his forehead, Jungkook slipped into the bed next to you.

“Did you have a good time?” you asked. In the quiet of the night it felt wrong for your voice to be louder than a whisper. “You can be honest with me. I won’t take it personally.”

A small smile simmered on Jungkook’s lips as he turned on his side to look at you. In the lights of the city coming through the window, his chocolate brown eyes seemed black. “I had the best of times. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It was nice having you there, it was… different. A good different. You should come again tomorrow, to the sets outside the city this time.”

“I would like that,” he whispered.  

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Jungkook repeated in a breath.

It would be nice to have him with you. He wasn’t distracting you, on the contrary you were more focused because you knew he was there watching you, you wanted to show him the best of you. This was far from the most exciting part of the process of making a film but it was necessary. Well, it wouldn’t have been necessary if someone hadn’t decided to purposely forget all about the safety measures but you had already dedicated too much of your energy being angry about it.

Once the actual filming had started you would take Jungkook with you and show him the behind the scenes of how a TV show was made. If he was fascinated with this part then he would love filming. The actors were incredible and they had found their connections to the characters, channeling them at the table readings, it would be even better when they were in the costumes on set.  

“I liked it,” Jungkook said. “I really liked seeing you work.”

You smiled at the bunny. “You used to see me work every day at the Castle.”

“But it wasn’t the same.” Jungkook laid his head on his hand. “You looked different there,” he said. “You looked powerful, like you could do anything. Everyone looked at you like you had all the answers.”

“It was a good day, I guess. It isn’t always like that. I might look confident and like I have everything under control all the time but that’s far from the truth.”  

For all of your fame and the praise you received, you did make mistakes, you got stuck and felt helpless against some problems. Not everyone listened to you and you got into arguments with the executive producers sometimes. And you weren’t always the one who was right.  

“Looking confident is half of the job, even when you don’t feel like it. It’s one of those situations where ‘fake it till you make it’ is a requirement. When you want to be heard you have to look and act like you are sure of what you’re doing, especially when you are a young woman at an important position. If you don’t, people begin to doubt you and if they doubt you, they will begin to talk over you and disregard your opinions. That was the first lesson I learnt on this job.”

At seventeen, you had been in charge of directing “Land of the Gods” and it wasn’t all smooth sailing, much less at the beginning. You were young, too young for most of them. You couldn’t direct such a project they said. They questioned your every move and decision, every correction you made and everything you said to the actors during a scene. They didn’t take you seriously until halfway through filming and even then they didn’t hesitate to question your authority. A constant battle of wills.

But it had gotten you here. You couldn’t complain.

“You’ve done so many things,” Jungkook said as if in awe. “All those shows and movies. And they are all so good. You are so talented. I could have never achieved what you have even if I wasn’t…” He left the sentence hanging.

You adjusted your position, laying on your forearm. “I don’t believe that, I think you would be marvelous at whatever you did. You have the dedication and that’s half of the job done. About me…” You let out a small chuckle. “I was very young when I started, I’m still young considering my profession, and I had so many ideas. I still have so many of them.” Or you used to, before the buzz in your brain became just noise. “And I don’t want to wait so long the industry gets tired of me, I have to take advantage of the light as long as it’s on me.”

“I don’t think they can get tired of you, not when your movies and shows are… like that. I couldn’t get tired of them,” Jungkook said. “It’s just- I’m not-” Frustrated, he cut himself off. “You work too much. I’m just… When was the last time you had a break? An actual break without working in any form.”

You opened your mouth to answer and closed it again. It certainly wasn’t this year and it wasn’t last year either. When you had taken a break to buy and decorate the house, you had been answering calls about work when you had been choosing the paints for the walls and writing scripts while you discussed floor plans. Break for you wasn’t a time you didn’t work but rather a time they couldn’t call you to the offices or the set.  

“It’s been a while,” you said in the end. “I’ve got a lot of things going on, I don’t really have the time to take a break. I can’t leave them hanging, they rely on me.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t. Not so much.”  

But that’s how it has always been for as long as you could remember. You were involved in every single part of the process, in every decision, from the scripts, to casting, to the set and costume design, to the actual filming, the post-production and the editing. Supervising and making sure that everything was right. That was your charm, that was one of the reasons you were one of the most sought-after directors in Hollywood. Each project was a part of yourself. If you let those responsibilities go, what would that mean for you? What would they say about you?

The air-conditioning made a small sound as the room reached the desired temperature. The setting wasn’t too low, a pleasant coolness replacing the stifling heat. The thick walls of the hotel kept the heat of the day trapped inside, something that would be very beneficial in winter but a lot less so in spring nearing summer.

“Anyway, I think we’ll be done in a few days,” you said. “We’ll probably be home by the end of the week. The new plans have been drawn and there is only one more meeting I have to attend and that’s more for appearances’ sake than anything else. The rest is up to the crew here.”

Jungkook’s smile wavered. “So soon? Don’t you have any more work? The people here seemed to need you.”

“They don’t need me, there is nothing more I can offer them. My place right now is in Los Angeles, that’s where they need me.” You nudged his foot with yours, your knees were close enough to touch every time you moved. “But that’s not what you’re nervous about, is it?”

Jungkook shook his head, hiding half of his face in the pillow. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Kookie…” You nudged his foot again until your legs were intertwined underneath the thin sheets. “Staying here won’t help anyone. You have to talk to him.”

Jungkook closed his eyes as if the conversation pained him. “He shouldn’t want to talk to me.”

“But he does. You know he has been asking for you,” you said.

“He stopped.”

“Because you never replied. Doing this, pulling away and ignoring him, you’re hurting him more than whatever you feel guilty for. You didn’t see how sad he was every time you didn’t show up for a meal or when he called for you and you ignored him. You’re hurting him and I know that isn’t what you want so why do you keep doing it?”

A sob clawed out of Jungkook’s throat and he tried to muffle it with his fist. Your eyes widened at the sound, instinctively pulling the younger boy into your arms. He didn’t fight you, holding on to you like you were the only thing keeping his afloat, hiding his face in your neck as the sobs he couldn’t suppress fell from his lips.  

“What… What I did to him was h-horibble. I-I took adva-advantage of him,” Jungkook chocked out as his tears dampened your skin. “And I know, I know he’s going to forgive me. But I don’t want him to. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t forgive-” A sob cut him off. “I don’t deserve forgiveness.”  

You run your hands through his hair, scratching gently at the base of his bunny ears, something that used to calm him down. “Baby… You should let him have that choice, you can’t take it away from him.”

“I can’t forgive myself,” he muttered, desperation and heartbreak seeping into his voice like water through the cracks of a dam until it breaks.

“If Jimin can forgive you then you can work towards forgiving yourself. All I know is that you love each other too much to continue like this.”

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

It was the fifth day you were gone. Seokjin had been keeping track, the equivalent of another line engraved on the wall of a cell. He had been going to sleep and waking up alone in a bed that felt too large for one person. He had added more blankets and stuffed animals decorating embellishing his nest but it did nothing for the feeling of emptiness covering it like a veil.  

You called every day and texted them religiously, it was more than he could have expected but much less than what he craved. Jungkook sent photos of the hotel suite and of every place he visited with short captions. Seokjin smiled as his heart constricted.

It was the fifth day you were gone and he was sitting at the large table in the back garden, drinking tea at the time he would have been bringing yours before you had to go back to work. Jin didn’t consider himself a clingy person. He was loyal and protective of the people he loved, he obeyed his past owners and he took care of them. But this was new. It had been five days, the number didn’t change but Jin felt like it had been much longer than that. When his past owners left it wasn’t for long, less than two weeks, he didn’t have the time to miss them. He hadn’t missed them. Two weeks. Five days.

Jungkook would be nagging at him by now, tugging his arm or foot or whatever part of him he could get and if Jin didn’t give in the bunny hybrid would sprawl himself next to the older with his head in his lap. Despite Seokjin warnings about getting splashed with tea or coffee in the face, Jungkook stayed there.  

If you were back from work, a rare occurrence, you would insist you all spent that time together. Like a family.  

Family. Such a peculiar word. It was one of those words Seokjin couldn’t grasp the real meaning of. He was a hybrid, he didn’t have parents, the one who had given birth to him had delivered him to the scientists earning a large amount of money for her services. His first owners had trained him harsher than a pet and treated him like a servant or a living piece of decor. It didn’t matter if he’d thought of them as his family to feel better for himself, they owned him and they didn’t let him forget.  

He didn’t know what having a family felt like. But he guessed it felt a lot like the mornings before you left for work and Jungkook was bickering with Jimin about how much he could eat while Namjoon was smirking into his coffee.

“A penny for your thoughts?”  

Seokjin startled, the mug trembling dangerously in his hands. Another hand enveloped his to steady it. “How do you do that? I almost had a heart attack.”

Namjoon smiled sheepishly. “You aren’t the first one to say that, about the heart attack. I’ll try to make more noise next time.”

There was only a tiny bit of tea left at the bottom of the mug so Seokjin placed it on the table to avoid any more surprises that could threaten its survival. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked, looking at the black backpack Namjoon was wearing.

“I’m going for a walk in the forest. Would you like to join me?”  

“Like this?” he gestured to his casual attire.

“Maybe you should wear different shoes,” he said referring to the slippers he was wearing.

Seokjin was tempted to say no, sugar gliders might be native to forests but he didn’t have the same ease among trees. But he was tired of being in his own company and something inside him was screaming to go and be with his pack. After all, it was impossible to not give into Namjoon’s dimples.

“Okay, I’ll come with you. Just don’t lead us so far away we won’t be able to come back.”

Namjoon’s smile widened as Jin left to change his shoes. His sneakers were in a box under his bed. He had worn them only once because he preferred wearing his slippers in the house or the gardens. These sneakers were the ones he had on when you had gone to the lake before you had to go back to work and be away for most of the day.  

The wolf hybrid was waiting in the back garden for him by the curtain of vines with the purple blooms. The mug was nowhere in sight.

“Ready?” Namjoon asked him.

“Ready,” Seokjin said, not paying any mind to the fluttering in his stomach.

Namjoon pulled the curtain of vines aside, the path stretching ahead. The forest was alive in spring, trees green and tall, creating shade for the small creatures roaming around to hide from the sun. And when a few sun-rays slipped through the spaces between the branches and the leaves, they looked like a touch from the gods.  

Namjoon navigated the forest with practiced ease and Seokjin had a feeling the wolf hybrid knew exactly where they were going. He just hoped Jimin wouldn’t look for them while they were gone, but knowing Namjoon he had probably already told Jimin. Or Jimin could call them. Seokjin wasn’t used to having his own phone and often he forgot he had the device.  

Staying close to Namjoon, he kept his eyes on the ground. A poor attempt to keep his tripping to the minimal. But the forest was conspiring against him. Roots, stones, sticks, everything he could trip over was in his path.  

“Where are we going?” he asked.

Namjoon stopped, turning to look at him. He smirked. “It’s a surprise.”

“No, I prefer no surprises,” Jin said. Rock. He stepped over it, avoiding a possible humiliating fall. “Tell me where we’re going. Is it far?”

“Not too far.” Not too far for Namjoon could be totally different from Seokjin’s idea of not too far. “I swear to you we aren’t getting lost today. I know this part of the forest like the back of hand and I have a good sense of direction. See?” He pointed to the direction of a large tree on his right. “That’s north,” he pointed to the opposite direction, “and that-”

Before he could finish, Seokjin had tripped over a protruding root. He hadn’t seen it, being too focused on Namjoon. He let a shriek as he tumbled to the ground, scratching his hands as they came in contact with the ground fist.  

Namjoon called his name but he hadn’t been fast enough. He grasped Seokjin’s elbows pulling him up so he was sitting instead of laying face down on the dirt.  

“Are you alright?” Namjoon asked, kneeling next to him, and Seokjin felt heat travel to his face and his chest tightening. He had an urge to flee and forget that had happened. Namjoon didn’t give him the chance though. He took his hands in his, turning them over and inspecting the damage. Dirt was clinging on the flesh and Namjoon blew on them to make some it go away. “We need to clean this.” He pulled out a water bottle from his backpack and poured water on his hands. It did sting a little but Seokjin was used to much worse than this.

Thin lines were etched on his palm, none of them bleeding. His hands had taken most of the burnt of the fall. The pride he had been piecing back together hurt more than his body did.

“We should go back,” Namjoon said, letting his hands go. Seokjin mourned the loss then reprimanded himself for it. “Maybe coming here wasn’t a good idea.”

“I’m fine,” he said. He didn’t like the frown on Namjoon’s face. “We don’t have to go back. I don’t want to go back.” He cleared his throat. His face, neck and ears felt impossibly hot.

Namjoon regarded him with careful eyes. “Are you sure? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Really, I’m fine,” he repeated. He put one hand on the ground to steady himself and get back on his feet. It didn’t work very well because as soon as Namjoon saw him moving he was helping him up supporting most of his weight. “It wasn’t painful, more embarrassing than anything else,” Seokjin muttered. Despite the low tone, Namjoon heard him and his face smoothed. “Let’s go. We will never get to that place you want before nightfall at this rate.”

Namjoon chuckled shaking his head. “If you say so.” Seokjin expected him to start walking but instead he laced their fingers together. “Is this okay? I don’t want you falling again. If you trip again I’ll keep you up or at least we’ll fall together.”

Seokjin huffed out a laugh, lightheaded. Namjoon wasn’t distant but he wasn’t open with his affection like Jimin or Jungkook or even you and feeling his hand in his had ignited something inside him he was struggling to bury.

They held hands all the way to the secret destination. Seokjin tripped a couple more times, the rocks and the roots were still there and Namjoon was too distracting, but he kept his balance. Namjoon held on his hand tighter whenever he lost his footing and he allowed himself to consider it for a moment before banishing the idea.

The walk wasn’t too long and as the trees thinned out a little, a few large rocks emerged from the ground. They had climbed higher than the level of the house, the forest and the lake stretching under them. On the side the Castle peeked between the trees and the road leading to the city.  

Namjoon helped him up the rock while he complained for the sake of it. They sat down to rest and Namjoon offered him the bottle of water he had used before, plenty of water was left inside. Seokjin insisted they shared it, he had already used half of it on him anyway.

“You like being outside so much, you have walked through most of the forest. You go on walks every day. Why don’t you go out with Y/N? Or around the neighborhood?” he asked. Namjoon wasn’t someone who could be contained in a house, he needed to be outside, and the forest looked too small for him.

Namjoon crossed his hands over his bent knee. “Being in the forest is easier. I can’t explain it but it’s familiar territory. Outside the forest, outside the house, that’s different. I know the streets of Los Angeles, I’ve spent more time on them than I would have liked. And now things are different but those streets are the same. I don’t think I’m ready to go back there alone.”

Seokjin’s heart constricted at the reminder of what the three hybrids he held so dearly had been through. He was spoiled, he couldn’t have survived a life in the streets. But if he was with them… If he was with them maybe it would would have been worth it.  

It was a dangerous world for lone hybrids, people were eager to take advantage of them and hybrid services were always lurking in large cities like Los Angeles. Going outside alone could be an invitation for harassment from a few sick people who thought they were entitled to hybrids’ lives because humans created them, who thought they were lesser. Seokjin hadn’t been allowed to be alone outside, his owners believed it was indecent and disrespectful for hybrids to walk alone or stay alone.  

“Do you want to go outside in the city?” Namjoon asked.

Seokjin hugged his knees. “I wouldn’t know where to go or what to do. I’ve never been out alone.”

Namjoon nodded. “That’s alright. It was nice being out for Spring Cleaning, I saw the city in a different light.”

Seokjin smiled, for him it hadn’t been only the city he had seen in a different light. “I would like to go out one day.”

“I would like that too,” Namjoon said softly.

But Seokjin didn’t think of going alone. He thought of being with Namjoon holding his hand so they wouldn’t lose each other or an excited Jungkook hopping around with Jimin chasing him.  

Namjoon’s phone beeped with a message and he pulled it out of his backpack to read it. A smile spread on his face at whatever he was seeing. Seokjin wanted to lean closer and look at what was making him smile but he held himself back. There were only three people it could be from.

“Jungkook is playing her assistant,” Namjoon said, turning the screen so Seokjin could take a look at the photo. Jungkook was looking to the side, probably at someone talking to him, carrying two folders and a few loose papers. Seokjin’s heart softened at the sight, Jungkook looked content there. Excited and a little confused.

Seokjin took the phone in his hands. “I’m sure he insisted on carrying them for her. Doesn’t she have an assistant?”

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah, Will. But I’m not sure he’s that kind of assistant.”

“Maybe she should keep Jungkook on set, he could carry anything she wanted,” he joked. Their bunny could pick up all of them without getting tired, Seokjin had been his victim enough times to know that.  

Jungkook had been doing better, his messages were more frequent and he talked more on the phone. He had been doing better but Seokjin was missing him a lot. But he couldn’t be selfish with this, going away had been good for him and if it hurt a little that he needed to be away from them, Seokjin didn’t utter a word. He had heard him sniffling at night, covering his mouth to muffle the sounds. Seokjin didn’t know how to comfort him so he just held him tighter.

Namjoon sighed, taking his phone back and hiding it in the backpack. He sighed. “Jimin is hiding away again. He barely spoke to me before locking himself in the cinema room. I don’t understand what is going on between them. Jungkook had to travel to the other side of the States to get away.  I can’t get a word about what happened from either of them. Jungkook says he did something horrible to him and Jimin doesn’t want to say anything about it. And every time Jungkook pulls back from him I can see how much it hurts them both and I can’t do anything about it.”

“They don’t want us to do anything about it but they need us next to them,” Seokjin said, looking ahead at the sun slowly descending in the sky.  

Namjoon let the silence stretch before speaking, “I’m grateful you’re with us, that you chose to stay. I don’t like to think about how it would have been without you.”

Seokjin turned his head away. “I didn’t do anything special. I am not that important.”

A hand touched his cheek, leading him gently until he was face to face with Namjoon looking into his hazel, almost golden, eyes. “Listen to me when I say this; you are important to us. You are pack and your place is with us here. I’ll be honest, I was weary at first but you fit right in like you were always meant to be with us. You belong with us and we’ll never let you go or get tired of you. You give so much without even realizing it.” His thumb rubbed small circles on his skin leaving burning trails behind. A heavy cloud had covered everything around him and all he could see was hazel eyes. “All I ask you is to let us take care of you, too.”

And before his doubts could stop him he surged forward. Namjoon caught him in his arms, cradling the oldest’s neck as he hid his face in his neck breathing in his scent. Time was meaningless there.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

You were taking a short break. John had delivered your second cup of coffee for the day and a smoothie for Jungkook who disliked the bitter taste of coffee with passion. It was a mostly practical day that didn’t require a lot of moving around. You had been meeting up with people since the crack of dawn and discussing the best ways to cover up the disaster in a way that wouldn’t turn the public against the show or the studios. So far, you had been holding off any reporters from including the overlooked safety measures when publishing the news about the collapsed sets.  

After being inside all day, you had decided to take a stroll around the block. Jungkook was walking next to you sipping his smoothie. He was wearing a simple black chocker with a silver charm.

He was telling you about a video he had seen on YouTube when your phone started ringing. Your nickname for Taylor was displayed across the screen with a photo of her pulling out a tray of cookies from the over.

“Hey, Tay,” you said.

“I called at the right time, didn’t I?”  

“Just the perfect time, I have around twenty minutes before I have to go back. Work has been kicking my ass.”

Taylor laughed. “I’m sure you’ve been kicking its ass too. And better.”

You had told her around what time you would be taking your break. You hadn’t talked on the phone since coming to Virginia and you had missed her voice.

You stopped at a bench and Jungkook pulled out his phone. You felt a little bad for talking on the phone when it was the two of you but you had really missed Taylor and it wouldn’t take long anyway. She had been busy with Astrid, getting to know her better and helping her adapt to the new environment. When you had visited the hybrid had looked enamored with Taylor, you knew your friend would be amazing at taking care of a hybrid.

The conversation soon turned to you but you didn’t have much to share. Work was the same regardless the disaster but Taylor was more interested in other things.  

“It has been almost a year since you and Jacob broke up. Don’t you have your sight on anyone? Any flirts? It isn’t like you lost the one and only,” she said.

Jacob had been far from the one and only. And when she asked, your mind went to dangerous places.

“Just because you found your man doesn’t mean we are all that lucky,” you said. “And how am I supposed to find anyone? I’m too busy.” From the corner of your eye you saw Jungkook turning to look at you with an unreadable expression.

Taylor continued, “Aren’t there any cute boys on set? At work? There has to be someone. Don’t bury yourself in work and forget to live. I’m not saying you need a man to be happy or complete, but don’t you miss going on dates? Getting to know someone like that?”

The answer came to you unbidden but it wasn’t something you were ready to say. “Maybe after the TV show, for now I really have to focus. After that is done and I don’t have to worry about anymore earthquakes, I’ll see where I’ll end up.”

You knew Taylor cared for you and she worried about how deep you threw yourself into work. Maybe there was also a small part that was still uncertain about the way you and Jacob had broken off things and the way you had avoided the topic like the plague for the first months. Like you and Jacob had never happened. But looking at boys and dating had been the last thing on your mind.  

Ending the call with Taylor promising to text her when you got off work, you patted the small of Jungkook’s back. It was time to walk back. The smoothie was half-finished, the way it had been before, like he hadn’t taken a sip since sitting down.  

You asked him if there was something wrong but he replied that everything was alright. It didn’t look like that was the case. He stayed close to you all day, more clingy than he had been the whole time you had been in Virginia, wary of the men who talked to you.

♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩ ♩♪♩♬♬♩♪♩

The blue sky and fluffy clouds reflected on the lake, a huge mirror creating another sky on its surface, a more vibrant but precise copy. No boats cut through the water, it was like there was a part of the sky that had made its home on the ground. Trees extended on every side of the lake, so many of them one next to the other with no end in sight.

The grass tickled Jimin’s palms swaying in the gentle wind. He breathed in the fresh morning.

“One day we’ll go on a boat ride.” Jungkook was sitting next to him, his long bangs falling at the sides of his face. “We’ll see every part of the lake, not just this. We’ll go everywhere.”

Flowers bloomed all around them, white and blue petunias, chrysanthemums and lilies. Jimin wanted to cut the most beautiful one and tuck it behind Jungkook’s ear. He turned to tell him but hands were holding the back of his neck and lips devouring his. He gripped Jungkook’s arms to steady himself from the force of the kiss. The sweet aroma of the flowers filled him up, engulfing every part of his being, the deepest crevices and the smallest of cracks.  

Jungkook pushed him back so he was laying on the grass and Jimin let him, too drunk off the flowers and soft lips. Touches on his cheeks and his sides, caresses under his shirt. He was burning.  

It didn’t take long for the panic to set in. With weak arms, he pushed Jungkook away. The air wouldn’t reach his lungs. The scent of the flowers turned stale and bitter.  

“We can’t,” he tried to say but his voice wasn’t coming out right, sticking in his throat and refusing to flow.

Jungkook pulled back. His eyes were darker than before. “Is this it? Am I too common for his highness? You didn’t have any reservations about the panther hybrid, did you? Are you attracted to power, Jiminie? Or do you open your legs only for him?”

There were sharp blades piercing Jimin’s chest. How did he know? Who had told him? No one was supposed to know.

Two figures were hiding between the trees in the darkness the day couldn’t chase away. Your hands were crossed in front of your chest and Yoongi was standing right behind you.  

Jimin took a step back colliding with the fountain at the entrance of the Castle. The house was looming over him, ominous and tall as if it could touch the sky. His clothes were torn, dirt and blood staining them. They were the clothes he had been wearing the day you had found them.

“I’m sorry but you can’t stay here anymore,” you said. You knew what he had done, you knew his dirty secret and he was paying for it again. He would be paying for it his whole life. A pain so powerful he felt like he was dying bloomed in his chest as rivers of tears rolled down his cheeks. His knees were weak. He couldn’t stand.  

He searched in the faces of his pack, of the people he loved so much he thought his heart would burst. Nothing but sneers and gazes of pity. Whore, they whispered. Slut. Worthless.  

Jimin crumbled to his knees. He was dying. He was sure he was dying. Spasms wrecked his body as he sobbed. He had nowhere to go, he had no one but them. He couldn’t live without them.

And when he thought it was over, that it was the last breath he was taking. He opened his eyes. His chest was heaving, his heart beating like a wild animal scratching at the bars of its cage. He was in their room, the glass wall looking out at the forest. Only the moonlight fought the darkness.

The sheets were restricting him and pushing him down, tangled around his body. Frantic movements born out of desperation took over his body and he stumbled over the edge of the bed, falling hard on the floor with the sheets wrapped around his legs.  

And it overflowed.  

The sobs and tears. He pulled at his hair and scratched his skin. They couldn’t know. No, they could never know. You would never look at him the same way. He would lose the only home he has ever known.

He wanted to scream. Scream until his lungs were empty and his body stopped shaking. Scream until he didn’t feel worthless and used like an old toy forgotten in a corner of the attic.  

There were arms around him, prying his hands away from his hair and skin. He tried to pull away but they only held tighter until he gave in and sunk into their warmth. Blood was rushing to his ears and he only made out his name falling from the other person’s lips. He rocked in his arms, cursing himself and the world. Weak. He was so weak.

Fucking pathetic.

He gripped the hands holding him. He focused on the voice speaking although he couldn’t understand what it was saying. He choked on the bile in his throat, his body shaking with his sobs.  

“Jiminie, breath. Just breath,” the voice said and Jimin tried to listen to it. He did. But it felt like he hadn’t been able to breath for a while. “Just like this. Breath with me. That’s right, like this. Breath. You’re doing so well, Minie.”

Spent, Jimin fell on the chest behind him, shaky breaths leaving his lips. One of the hands rubbed his stomach over his nightshirt.  

“There. You’re alright. You’re alright.”

Jimin swallowed with difficulty down his scratchy throat. “Joonie?”

“I’m here. I’m here, Minie,” the other said. Jimin didn’t have the energy to look at him, laying his head on the older’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

His breathing stuttered. Another tear escaping from his eyes, he thought he’d run out of them. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” Namjoon’s voice was unsteady and it hurt Jimin knowing he had been the cause of it. “You’re alright. I’m always here for you but I can’t protect you from your head.”

Jimin’s tail wrapped around one of Namjoon’s arms as Jimin sniffled. “I don’t want to be alone. Please, please don’t let me go. Don’t make me leave.”

“Never. I’ll never leave you. We’ll never leave you. I’d do anything in this world to keep you safe.” Namjoon caressed his arm, moving upwards and pressing his fingers against Jimin’s left scent gland. Jimin’s whole body trembled, shivers overtaking him. Namjoon rubbed his nose against the other side of his neck, leaving kisses behind. Purring, Jimin arched his neck.  

“I love you,” Jimin whispered, unable to stop the tears from falling.

Namjoon kissed over his scent gland and Jimin felt it everywhere. “I love you, Minie. So much.”

[tempobrucera]

PROMPT LIST

I just recently noticed that the 12 followers I had here when I started actually using this blog, turned into 200 over the last ... month or so and I don't know why or how. Thank you, it feels really like insanity 🥂🎉. Maybe because it gives me some joy and it's literally just writing and not much either on this blog, nothing else.

I'm gonna write some small blurbs between 500-800 (more like between 1k-1.5k, because that's apparently the length I can write) words each, can be shorter, longer.

Rules (there aren't many, don't worry): 1. You can pick up to 4 numbers from the prompt sentences, scenarios, mood / dynamics and the touches / kinks lists for one request (there are examples under the cut). The prompts are categorized but just because it says angst, doesn't mean it can't be requested as fluff. 2. Write SFW or NSFW or don't care into the request. 3. Let me know for who of the 4 (or 2? The scenarios are for 2 people, but can be written for more) (there's just one thing I cannot write which is nsfw Damiano, sorry). 4. That's it. Because there are endless possibilities with this, you can request more than one. I might close them at one point though. Feel free to reblog this. I'm gonna reblog this myself at one point, I know myself.

Thanks & Please go a long way : )

Taglist: @teatrodellavita, @teenyweenynightghost, @findaqueenwithoutaking, @findoutwhoyougonnacall, @little-moonbeam-666, @its-afucking-mess

Add Yourself to the taglist

Examples & Lists

1. Prompt Sentences:

Nonsense / General Stupidness / Idiots to Lovers / Drunk

1. "Am I an accomplice to a crime?"

2. "Please go away." - "We're handcuffed together, how am I supposed to-"

3. "Friends with benefits... isn't that like, for friends?" - "Don't think it's a requirement."

4. "I told you that you’d fall in love with me."

5. "I’m bored. Let’s bake something" - "It’s two in the fucking morning–" "So?"

6. "I know I should care about the reason why you’re naked in my bed, but I will just enjoy it for a moment."

7. "I'm sorry, I'm such an idiot." - "No, that's okay. Go on."

8. "Now if you excuse me, i'm gonna go set myself on fire."

9. "I love you." - "Hold up — what did you just say?" - "When?" - "Two seconds ago." - "I said you."

10. "You do know that’s a plastic plant, right?"

11. "You're an idiot." - "Takes one to know one."

12. "I wish I could say that this is the first time, I’ve been stabbed with a plastic spoon."

13. "Are you flirting with me?" - "I have been for the past year or so, but I appreciate you noticing."

14. "For the most part, I am, in fact, an idiot. But I fully admit to it, which should count for something."

15. "What are you doing here?" - "I got locked out of my house." - "Again?"

16. "What happened to your hand?" - "I hit my hand on something." - "On what?" - "Your ex's face."

17. "Why did you break up with them?" - "My dog didn't like them, and that is never a good sign."

18. "How about we save that kiss for some other time? Maybe, let's say, when you don't look like you're going to throw up on me?"

19. "Can you punch my face?"

20. "You’re a mess." - "Thank you for the lovely compliment."

21. "I fell in love with you." - "No, you fell down the stairs. You should really learn to hold your alcohol."

22. "I love you, but sometimes I want to throw you off a cliff."

23. "Alright— where’s the idiot?" - "Uh... I’m here." - "Surprisingly enough, I’m not talking about you this time."

24. "If you do that again I will throw you out the window you- what are you doing?" - "Checking how high the drop is to see if it's worth it."

25. "I’m not drunk. Can a drunk person do this?" - "You’re not doing anything." - "But… I sent you my love. Did you… did you not get it?"

26. "Here’s a spare key so you don’t have to keep coming in through the window."

27. "....Did you just sniff me?"

28. "If there’s nothing going on between the two of you, you don’t mind if I ask her out, do you?"

29. "I need you, you idiot." - "I am yours. No refunds."

30. "You've been here all night?" - "Of course. Why, was i supposed to sneak out?"

Fake Dating

31. "Yeah, well, I'm not paying you to like me. I'm paying you to laugh at my jokes and cling to me like a magnet so my ex doesn't think I miss them."

32. "They'll be in here in a second. Get naked." - "What? You didn't say anything about getting naked!" - "Just take off some of your clothes, I want them to think we're doing it!"

33. "This was all fake, this was just supposed to be fake you weren't supposed to tell me you love me!" - "And you weren't supposed to say it back!"

34. "It’s just going to be for one night and there will be so much food and drinks, you just need to say yes and maybe take my hand a few times that night."

35. "Are you doubting my acting skills?"

36. "I can’t believe you told them you were my fiancé."

37. "You want to practice kissing to make it believable? How about we practice having an argument and you sleeping on the couch?"

Comfort

38. "If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you brag about winning game night."

39. "You can lay your head in my lap if you want to."

40. "You okay? You look like you could use a hug."

41. "Alright, who am I beating up?"

42. "I heard you were feeling sick, so I made you some soup."

43. "You can lean on me if it makes you more comfortable."

44. "You make a good pillow."

45. "You can squeeze my hand if you need to."

46. "I'll sit here, with my arms wrapped around you, all night."

47. "Here, you can borrow my jacket."

Angst

48. "Look, i'm really sorry. You didn't deserve that."

49. "So we're breaking up over the phone? Touché."

50. "And you're here to do what, exactly? To apologize, or to feel better about yourself?"

51. "I know you've already moved on, but I'm still where we left off."

52. "All my friends told me you’d break my heart."

53. "Why did you wait until I moved on?"

54. "Come on, you're not okay." - "That obvious, huh?"

55. "It’s like you never really see me. I’m standing right in front of you and you don’t see me!"

56. "All you do is hurt people."

57. "I never would’ve thought (Person) would end up with someone else."

58. "I think I messed things up, I’m not in love with her, I’m in love with ..."

"Enemies" to Lovers / Hating eachother

59. "God, you really are the most annoying person on earth."

60. "Why are you so annoying?" - "Why are you so mad about it?"

61. "I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh at one of my jokes before."

62. "Go to hell." - "I'm sure the devil will greet us both with open arms."

63. "Are they fighting again?" - "Worse, they’re kissing."

64. "I am this close away from strangling you."

65. "Look, I know we're not... friends, but... i don't know where to go."

66. "You know, you could at least tell me to go to hell."

NSWF / Flirting

67. "We should probably leave, before we start a scandal."

68. "Maybe you could use that mouth for more than just talking nonsense."

69. "If you called just to get off on my voice, i’m hanging up."

70. "I saw that. You just checked out my ass."

71. "We should just get naked."

72. "If you keep fucking me this good, I'll marry you."

73. "This isn’t what I had in mind when I yelled fuck you."

74. "So... are you going to let me in, or would you rather I chat up the bartender?"

75. "The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused, is making me lose my mind."

General / Anything else

76. "Who needs them, we can have fun on our own."

77. "Do you think we’re friends / lovers in every universe?"

78. "How many times are we going to keep meeting like this?"

79. "Will they like me, or should I buy a copy of 'How to Make Friends and Influence People'?"

80. "Wait a minute, did you just choke on your (drink) because they're dating that asshole?"

81. "Pretty boy is with me!" - (...) - "Oh, I’m pretty boy?"

82. "Wasn't really under the impression you thought of me that way."

83. "You're anything but a saint."

84. "I'm sorry for bringing it up." - "Actually, I would love to kiss you."

85. "Dance with me." - "Right here?"

86. "I wonder, how many people are dead in that graveyard?" - "Hopefully all of them…"

2. Scenarios:

1. One day, Person A and Person B are both trapped in an elevator together.

2. Person A and Person B both get a little too tipsy at their weekly movie night and Person B always wants to cuddle when you’re both drunk.

3. Person A and Person B went thrift shopping together and found old love notes so now they're sitting on the couch reading them to each other in silly voices and suddenly Person A is nervous and wait a minute did Person B just use Person A's name .

4. Person A leaves baked goods for Person B anonymously, but Person B already knows that it's Person A.

5. Person A keeps making mixtapes and Spotify playlists for Person B that are full of an oddly high number of love songs, but Person B still hasn't figured out that they're confessions.

6. Person A has a hard time reaching something in the cabinet, Person B insists on helping them but Person A refuses, and Person B now has to watch as Person A climbs up the kitchen counter to reach the cabinet, terrified out of their mind that Person A will fall and hurt themselves.

7. Person B's favorite restaurant's giving out free food for Valentine's Day, but it's couples only so Person B is dragging Person A along with them.

8. Person B just ate all the caramel tartlets, so Person A pushes them on the couch to jokingly kiss them, and god their lips are sweet.

9. Person A is trying to have a conversation with Person B but Person randomly decides to splash their glass of water in Person A's face, having had enough of being serious.

10. Person A get's utterly drunk at a party. Person A is being grumpy picking fights with people for just looking at them but extra nice to Person B only. Including removing their clothes because they feel so hot and their shoes and completely forgetting about them. Only Person B can put the clothes back on them because they're the only ones allowed to touch but because Person A is drunk they also fall asleep everywhere because of that.

11. Person A and Person B almost burning down the house when making dinner because they're too busy making out.

12. Visit a christmas market and treat yourself with all the delicious sweets that are out there

13. Person A shows up at Person B's house drunk after they broke up Sorry. No break up anymore! People loved going for this one. Why?

14. Trying to bake cookies together and failing. It's one big mess and in the end, they are lying on the floor, covered in flour and not able to stop smiling.

15. Person A and Person B grocery shopping together. Person A stays strictly to the list while Person B tries to sneak a few extra items into the cart.

16. Person A got takeout from their favorite restaurant as a surprise and Person B decided to make a fancy meal to surprise Person A and now Person A is standing at the door with takeout bags while Person B is waiting for something in the oven, and they're laughing but also Person A is looking at Person B like maybe it's love?

17. One picking the other up to take them out on a date after they were stood up.

18. Person A and Person B wake up hugging each other and their noses are so close, and they stare into each other's eyes, not knowing what to do, afraid to break up the moment.

19. Person A shyly working up courage to hold Person B’s hand by continuing to brush against it, before Person B takes charge and grabs hold of it. Person A is getting all flustered.

20. Playing hide and seek at IKEA and being kicked out of the store.

3. Mood / Dynamics / Fanfic Tropes:

1. Fluff (Happy / Romantic)

2. Lazy / Sleepy

3. Angst

4. Sharing a first kiss

5. Confessing feelings

6. Friends with Benefits

7. Hurt / Comfort

8. Idiots to Lovers

9. Only one bed

10. Fake Dating

11. Having an argument / fight

12. "Enemies" to Lovers

4. Touches / Kinks:

1. Lifting someone up out of excitement

2. Nose kisses

3. Holding hands in a museum to pull them to the next exhibition

4. Cuddling for warmth

5. Shielding the other one with their body

6. Doing a pinky swear

7. Pushing a strand of hair behind their ear

8. Falling asleep on the other’s shoulder

9. Holding hands while one is balancing on a small wall

10. One doodling on the other’s hand.

11. Comparing hand-sizes to hold their hand against the other's and then just holding hands

12. Looking at their naked back, connecting the small moles with your fingers as if they were constellations.

13. One wiping a crumb from the other’s lips.

14. Touching foreheads.

15. Hickeys.

16. Semi Public

17. Sweat

18. Car Sex

19. Body Hair

20. Praise

[adorerdraco]

Good Enough ✧ Draco x Hufflepuff!Reader

Request: hiii i love your writing!! can you write about a sweet hufflepuff and how everyone thinks they aren’t a good pair together so one day Pansy bullies the reader into breaking it off with Draco because she feels like she’s not good enough for him then draco finds out and he’s really mad at Pansy?

Another seventh year AU where Voldermort never existed !

Warnings: bullying, slight angst, crying, cursing (barely), sad!draco, angry!draco, implied smut towards the end (also extra mean slytherins for the purpose of this imagine but i have nothing against them i <3 them as much as any other house)

Words: 4.5K

A/N: hiii thank youuuu 🥺💗 !!!!!! but ahhhh omg im a hufflepuff so i hope i delivered good hufflepuff energy in this oneee :’))) i think this might be my new favorite thing ive written omg but i do not own gif 

There was truly no explanation how you, a kind Hufflepuff, managed to become friends, let alone a couple, with the proud and arrogant Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy. 

On the outside, your relationship to everyone seemed uncanny and plain wrong. Even your friends and housemates had looked down on it for a while but eventually came around and just let you be. You couldn’t say the same for the Slytherin’s, however, because if there was one house they disliked more than Gryffindor; it was Hufflepuff.

They berated you and Draco for weeks after they found out he had started a relationship with you. They scowled at you when you would walk by them sometimes calling you names depending on whether or not Draco was by your side. He always defended you and you did your best to ignore them, but they were relentless. You had only been dating for about a month now and the tantalizing comments from Slytherin’s and anyone else who wanted tear the two of you down were right now seeming endless.

“Why can’t people leave us alone,” you said sadly to him one night. You were lying with him in a patch of grass outside the castle, head against his chest as his hand lazily traced patterns onto your bicep.

“They’re only jealous,” he sneered quietly. “People get mad at what they can’t have or what they can't understand.”

Draco’s patience with people was worsening each and every day. His housemates, regularly, would corner him in the common room and interrogate him with questions that made him want to rip his hair out.

“Is this some sort of prank you haven’t told us about, Malfoy?”

“A Hufflepuff? Have you gone mad?”

“Is she blackmailing you with something, mate?”

“Haven’t you thought about how that makes us Slytherin’s look?”

“She’s a blood-traitor!”

The questioning would always lead to him yelling and threatening everyone aggressively before he locked himself in his Prefect dorm or would leave the common room altogether in a fury. Those were the days he would find you after he calmed down and would hug you tightly, pressing kisses all over your face as he praised you with everything he adored about you to how happy you made him and how perfect you were for him. 

You, on the other hand, were dealing with much worse. You never told Draco some of the awful things people would say to you when he wasn’t around. You would stand up for yourself very rarely, confrontation not really being your first approach to handling things but when the insults were bad enough, you were forced to.

You would always hear a variation of the same things said either directly to you or from obvious whispering, majority of them being from Slytherin and the occasional judgmental comment from others.

“Filthy Hufflepuff!”

“Can’t believe one of them is dating one of ours.”

“What does Malfoy even see in her?”

“You’d think someone who’s supposed to be kind wouldn’t want anything to do with such an arse.”

More than ever, Draco found himself giving you an excessive amount of compliments and reassurances that he thought would balance out the insults and criticisms you would tell him about or he would witness. Everything he would tell you was true, of course, but you always felt like he said them out of pity or like he had to.

“I appreciate you trying to make it better, but you don’t have to keep complimenting me, Dray.” You’ve said to him countless times.

And he would often respond with, “but I need you to know how I feel about you.”

Despite the constant uphill battle, your relationship with the platinum blond was everything you hoped for and more. Considering your friendship had started on rocky beginnings a year ago, you would have never thought you’d be with him now.  You couldn’t thank the stars more for when your aged and nearly blind owl had flown straight into the back of his head, pecking at him while he tried to swat it away which then led to him giving you a piece of his mind and trying to hex your owl - causing you to try to hex him just as McGonagall happened to be passing by the fiasco that landed both of you in a months-long detention for reckless magic usage. It was in detention when the two of you were forced to spend time together and realized that the other wasn’t as bad as they thought.

Draco, much like everyone else, always believed Hufflepuffs to be weak and cowardly, too kind for their own good - but he quickly learned how common of a misconception that was the longer he knew you. You always fought for what was morally right, defended those you love and are loyal to courageously, and were sweet and friendly with everyone you talked to whether you knew them or not.

He gravitated towards your kindness and empathetic approach to everything. He loved to see the smiles you put on people’s faces or the way animals would randomly come up to you and immediately trust you enough to give them gentle pets that they always leaned into. He even loved the way you talked to everyone as your equals, something he rarely saw in his environment. Everything you did was a vast difference to what he saw on the daily from his cold and aloof peers, but it was a difference he enjoyed. He wished so deeply that everyone could see and understand how amazing you were to him and he was determined to make it happen.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” You asked shyly as he held your hand tightly in his, walking you slowly over to his large group of his closest Slytherin friends that were all gathered around a bench under a tree in the courtyard.

The Prince of Slytherin believed that if he could get his friends to at least tolerate you, then everyone else would follow in suit. He only associated himself with the best and most influential of his house so if there was anyone that could improve his current situation; it would be them. You were a little uneasy about his plan, but later agreed when he had convinced you that his idea couldn’t and wouldn’t fail.

“Of course it is!” He exclaimed encouragingly. “Plus, I’m Draco Malfoy, they’ll like anything I tell them to like.”

“Okay,” you sighed, rolling your eyes slightly at his boast.

The closer you got to them, the more you felt your hands begin to sweat and the heat crawling up your face. They all began to turn towards the two of you, their eyes focusing on you and you only with a pointed gaze. You started to realize how greatly you underestimated how intimidating they looked. Especially the one girl who made it her mission to bother you every chance she could get - always from afar while she pointed at you and whispered something into her friend’s ears while they laughed or when she would pass by you and say something rude under her breath.

“Look what Malfoy’s dragged in!” Pansy Parkinson called out with a malicious smirk on her face as she eyed you.

“Give it a rest, Pansy,” Blaise sighed, “If Malfoy wants us to meet his little friend then so be it.”

“Not my little friend, my girlfriend,” Draco corrected angrily as the two of you finally reached the group. “This is Y/N and I wanted you all to meet her since I plan on having her around for a long while, so you might as well get used to it.”

“Long while? Poor thing can’t even introduce herself,” Pansy laughed tauntingly.

“I think Draco introduced me just fine right now but if you want, I’ll do it again to make you feel better,” you smiled a big fake toothy grin at her. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

Everyone snickered at your response, watching for the girl’s reaction as her nostrils flared in irritation. Draco smiled to himself and gave your hand a quick squeeze, feeling proud that you found a way to talk back to her in the nicest way possible.

“Right, well, I’m sure you know this is; Goyle, Crabbe, Zabini, Pike, Flint, Nott, and...” Draco pointed to everyone, trailing off when he reached the only girl in the group, “I don’t think that one needs an introduction, she rather do it herself, right Parkinson?”

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, giving the blond a false squinty-eyed grin with attitude.

“So, you want us to be the nice to the Hufflepuff then?” Zabini questions, pointing a finger towards you.

“Yes, I want you to be nice to, Y/N,” Draco corrected again, his hand getting tighter in your grasp as he spoke. “That goes for all of you and everyone else in this bloody house. I don’t want to hear anything bad about her or us coming from anyone ever again or you’ll have me to answer to. I don’t care how friendly we are.”

“So he has to defend you too now?” Pansy spoke again, “Merlin, it’s a wonder how you Hufflepuff sort even survive in this world.”

Before anyone could say anything, you mustered up all the courage you had and stepped forward towards the irked girl in front of you.

“Listen, I don’t want any more trouble with you or anyone,” you rushed out. “I just want to go about my day without having to hear how disgusting and weak I am.”

She opened her mouth to retaliate but Blaise put a hand in front of her and pushed her back before she got any closer to you.

“Alright, we’ll try,” he answered for the group quickly in an annoyed tone, “but I can’t promise that for the rest of Slytherin. They really don’t like you guys together, thinks it makes them look bad. Eventually, they’ll get tired of it and move on to the next.”

“That’s as good as its gonna get,” Goyle guffawed, Crabbe and Pike snickering alongside him.

You sighed, looking up at Draco and slightly tugging at his hand while you silently begged him to take you out of there but he didn’t catch the hint and instead did the complete opposite when he had turned towards the only boy in the group who seemed to have brains.

“Zabini, can I talk to you really quick?” He asked gruffly. Blaise deeply sighed and nodded, the two boys breaking away from the group and stopping a few feet away before talking in angry hushed voices to each other.

You - all of a sudden felt very small and sick, your eyes frantically bouncing around the group as they watched you squirm. Pansy took this as her chance to step closer towards you, stopping a few inches away from you while a smirk made its way onto her face.

“Since you obviously don’t see the bigger picture, I’ll paint it for you,” she began contemptuously, “you and Draco really don’t belong together, at all. Sure, you might think everything’s fine right now, but what’ll happen when he gets tired of defending you and proving you to everyone. You think Hogwarts is your problem? Just wait until you meet the Malfoy’s. Do you really think his father would like or even tolerate a filthy blood traitor like you?”

You gaped at her, taking a few shaky steps away from her as her words hit you like a truck.

“Think about it, Y/L/N,” she gets in your face again, her hand reaching up to grip your shoulder tightly to hold you in place. “He needs to be with someone of his status, a pure-blooded Slytherin who comes from a good wealthy family who holds all the same beliefs as the Malfoy’s. If I were you, I’d end it before you ruin his life any more than you already have and end up leaving him without a family or his inheritance.”

“Are you trying to say that ‘someone’ should be you?” You question through gritted teeth, shrugging your shoulder hard out of her clawed grasp.

“I never said that,” she smiles, “but who am I to say it shouldn’t be?” 

Pansy tauntingly walked away from you, a smug look on her face as she noticed just how obviously she had hurt you. You wanted to run away and cry, but you held it together for the sake of your last remaining dignity and so that you wouldn’t please your assailant even more than you already have.

Draco turned to stroll back towards the group with Blaise, his eyes landing on your shuddering figure and the broken look in your eyes as they met his. He looked around at the rest of the group who were talking amongst themselves, unknowing to them that Parkinson had just ripped a new one on you. She stood around them, looking at her nails with an uninterested look in her eyes and when she felt Draco’s eyes on her, she looked up and smiled at him innocently. 

‘Bitch,’ you thought.

He slowly walked towards you, taking your hand and deeply frowning when you immediately slipped it out of his.

“What’s wrong?” His voice dripped with concern, his sad gray’s searching your face for any answer as to why you were suddenly acting so cold.

“I need to talk to you,” you breathed out. “Alone.”

He nodded, instinctively reaching out for your hand only for you to reject it again. He felt queasy at the response, his heart falling to his stomach as you turned around and began walking away. His legs were moving hastily behind you, a dooming tension had fallen between the two of you and he couldn’t for the life of him find a reason why.

Pansy’s words were like a game of pinball on a constant loop in your mind. Your thoughts were bumping and flying haphazardly as you tried to make sense of them and what you were about to do. And as much as you hated to admit it - the wench was right. You would never be able to offer Draco and his family anything that would ever be close to enough. You were just a sweet, regular Hufflepuff, someone far from who his family expected to date. And what if you did end up staying with him? You figured you would end up breaking up years later when he would be forced to marry someone else. Or in the slight chance, he fought against that, there was no way you’d forgive yourself if he lost his family and his future because of your own selfish needs.

You stopped at an empty corridor, sitting at one of the windowsills you regularly sat at with the platinum blond when the two of you snuck out at night to meet each other. Your head fell into your hands, your thoughts raging louder in your head and now through your body as you began to unwillingly shake. The held back tears had finally broken out in a waterfall of sadness, frustration, and grief.

Draco only watched, his heartbreaking at the sight as he kneeled in front of you, his hands resting on your knees while he tried to figure out what to say.

“Darling, please tell me what’s gotten you like this,” he pleads sadly. “If it’s about what Blaise said, I made a deal with him so he would try and help.”

“No, it’s not that,” you answered, choking back the lump in a feeble attempt to try and get yourself calmed down enough to talk to him.

He sat back on his heels, his hand running down his face in distress as he racked through his brain for anything else that might have gotten you like this. He let you cry for a bit, feeling useless as he watched you go through an internal battle he had no clue about.

“Then what is it? Tell me and I’ll fix it,” he says softly when he saw your tears had finally been reduced to stray droplets on your face.

“You can’t,” you sniffle. Your hand weakly brushed over his paled slender fingers that were holding your knee gently. He turned his palm upwards for you and you placed your shaking hand in his while you basked in the final moments of his warmth. You regrettably slipped out of his grip before you spoke the words you couldn’t take back. “We can’t be together anymore.”

Draco blinked, his stomach dropping as soon as the words left your mouth. “What?”

You stood up, backing away from him as you shook your head. “Everyone was right - I’ll never be good enough for you, for your friends, for your family. You deserve to be with someone who makes your life easier, not harder.”

“Where did all this come from?” He asks incredulously, standing up from his spot on the floor as he painfully watched your slowly retreating figure. “It’s all rubbish is what it is. You’ve never made my life harder.”

“Draco, look around you!” You exasperated, your arms flailing around you. “You had to make a deal with your own friends for them to even be nice to me. Your house can’t stand me and they take it out on the both of us! And what about your parents? You know for a fact they would hate me, don’t even try and deny it.”

Pale hands ran through his hair, his fingers pulling at the platinum strands in frustration.

“I thought you didn’t care about all that,” he said woefully. “I thought you’d know by now none of it matters.”

“Well, I care now,” you answer back gloomily. “And you should too.”

There was a spinning and nauseating feeling in the pit of the Slytherin’s stomach, his heart violently jumping around in his chest as he let you storm away from him. 

He let his back fall against a pillar, a deep and burning exhale falling from his trembling lips while he stared at a live painting across from him. It was of three women, the chalices in their hands supposed to be joined in a toast above them while they smiled gleefully in celebration, 3 of Chalices, it read in the caption below the frame. Instead of being in their usual position, they stared at him with pity in their softly painted eyes as they slowly raised their cups towards him in a way of showing their condolences.

He nodded curtly at them before he kicked himself off the wall and dragged himself towards the Great Hall where they were serving dinner and where he would undoubtedly find his so-called friends. He prepared himself to break the news to them, knowing they would be over the moon about it and as much as he wanted to join them in their delight, he couldn’t push away the large ache that had settled itself in his chest.

“We’re done,” he muttered dreadfully to himself, “it’s over.”

He was testing out different ways he could tell everyone the long-awaited news but they all left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“I think you’ll all be delighted to know, Y/N-” he tried again but he lost his train of thought when he spoke your name. It was like taking an invisible kick to his heart as if Peeves the Poltergeist had somehow crawled into his body and was wreaking his usual havoc on his insides. 

The second he stepped into the Great Hall and saw his group sitting there, eating and laughing amongst everyone else, he felt sick all over again. There was no way he could stomach the triumph they were about to unleash, but he sucked it up and drudged towards them anyway.

“You look ghastly,” Pansy snickers, already having a feeling as to why he looked so rough. He stopped at the bench, hesitating to sit down because he knew he’d want to dash the second everyone started to relentlessly bash you.

“Deal’s off, Zabini,” the blond spoke lowly. “I’m not with Y/L/N anymore so it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re better off without her, Malfoy,” Blaise said delightedly. “Can’t believe you nearly had us associating with a blood traitor. It’s better that she’s gone.”

“Yeah, we ought to thank Pansy for that,” Crabbe laughed loudly through a mouthful of food. Pansy kicked his shin under the table, and he recoiled too fast, the food in his mouth getting shot in the wrong direction as he started choking.

“Pansy?” Draco repeated, his eyes falling towards the shying girl. “What did Pansy do?”

“What?” Crabbe coughed roughly, “did no one else see her talking to the ickle Hufflepuff?”

Pansy kicked him again and he wailed out a “stop kicking me, you donkey!”

Any ounce of sadness Draco had in his body was immediately washed out in rage. He wanted to flip over the table and scream at everyone in his path, but he only turned towards Pansy again and asked her calmly.

“What did you say to her?”

“I only told her the truth!” She said coyly, holding her hands up in defense.

“What” his fist had slammed onto the table making everyone sitting near the contact jump in surprise, “did you say to her!”

“The truth! Or are you too blind to see it too?” She sneered at him. “Do you honestly think the two of you would last? Look at who you are, Draco!”

“Talk to me ever again and I swear I’ll hex you,” he spat, turning hot on his heel as he stormed out of the Great Hall, his friends staring at his retreating figure in shock at the outburst.

Draco found himself rushing through stairs and corridors, his heart racing as he searched for the place he just knew you’d be. Now that he knew the full story, he needed to talk to you. Even if you didn’t change your mind, he wanted to at least try to fix what had been broken. The tall and bronzed doors were ajar, a small light filtering through the dark corridor he was nearly running down. 

A mop of bright silver hair had peaked through the crack in the doors of the Hogwarts kitchen, worried gray eyes following in suit as they searched the room for its target. He found you hunched over a small dessert plate, a half-eaten cake being drenched in your tears that never seemed to stop. There was a house-elf next to you, looking up at you from the floor in concern while they patted your leg. 

“Mister!” a scraggly voice croaked out from below him. He looked down to find a rugged looking house-elf staring up at him with furrowed eyebrows and hands on its hips. “Students are prohibited in the kitchen.”

“There’s a student right there,” he pointed towards you.

“She’s an exception!” the elf exclaimed wildly.

Draco shook his head before walking past the small creature, power walking straight towards you while it ran behind him.

“Wait till Gonpy tells the Headmaster about this!” The elf calls, “Gonby asks your name, sir!””

“Vincent Crabbe,” Draco answers mindlessly as he continued walking towards the far end of the room that very closely resembled the Great Hall and its vastness.

The familiar accent rang through your ears, your glassy eyes shooting up in surprise when you see the reason for your tears hurrying towards you.

“Before you say anything, you need to listen to me,” he starts desperately once he reaches you. “I know it was Pansy who put those thoughts into your head. I know you think you’re not enough for me. And I know you think I was always complimenting you out of pity, but you couldn’t be more wrong about any of that. I say all those things to you because I mean it. You are everything to me. You are more than enough for me just by being you. You make me the happiest I’ve ever been and sometimes I wonder if I’m even good enough for you. But you need to understand how much I love you.”

“Draco,” you breathe, heart leaping in your chest at his rambling speech, “I love you too. But what about everyone else, how are we even supposed to be with each other in peace?”

“To hell with everyone else,” he responds quickly, walking around the edge of the table so that he was now only mere centimeters away from you. “Do you want to be with me?”

“Yes, of course,” you blink at him, “but do you really think your parents would let this happen?”

“We’ll deal with them when the time comes,” he mumbles, his hand finding its way to your puffy cheek where he let it rest. “Besides, my mother likes anything that makes me happy, so I know for a fact at least she will end up loving you just as much as I do.”

You nodded happily, a new hope bubbling in your stomach as you lurched towards him and hugged the stressed boy against you tightly. The both of you let out a breath of relief at the same time from the contact, finally feeling back in balance after the short-lived sorrow. 

He pulled away from you and leaned down into you, his lips capturing yours in a tender and passionate kiss. That was when the elves you had forgotten about had quickly stopped eavesdropping, scurrying themselves away from the table as they went to start cleaning up the kitchen. 

It was minutes before you had finally pulled away, looking dreamily into the happy gray’s that gazed back at you. You admired him for a couple seconds, feeling very content before you reached up towards him again, tangling your hands in his hair and pressing another kiss onto his now swollen lips. He moved needily against you, pushing your body flush the table as he held you tightly against him.

“Ahem,” a small voice uncomfortably called out from below. It was the same elf who had chased Draco down the kitchen when he walked in, a frown on his face as he stared at the two of you. “Gonpy and the house-elves make food here!”

“I’m sorry, Gonpy,” you hurriedly apologize, ripping yourself away from a ragged breathing Draco as you bent down to shake hands with the elf. “Thank you for making me cake and letting me cry here, you’re a Hogwarts hero.”

“Gonpy thanks you, Miss Y/L/N! The truest, kindest Hufflepuff!” 

Draco bit back a smile at the interaction. You stood up and reached your hand behind you for the Slytherin to take and as the two of you walked away, he yelled out a quick, “Thanks Gonpy!”

And once the two of you were near the exit, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and pressed his body against your back, lowering his mouth towards your ear and kissing the skin right below it before whispering, “do you want to go back to my dorm?”

You nodded eagerly, giggling loudly as the two of you stumbled out of the door underneath his hold and into the dimly lit corridor before pulling apart and racing towards the direction of the dungeons with his hand interlocked in yours.

[xhanisai]

List of my fics that have Marichat in it cos it’s Marichat May!

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2019 - Five times he got flustered and one time she did 

"Cool? Yes. Handsome? Correct. Hot? Most definitely. But CUTE? No. No way! Not at all!"

Chat Noir doesn't like being called cute. She and the world took advantage of that.

Adrien Agreste doesn't like being called cute. She and the world took advantage of that.

As for her...?

(Humour, comedy, tooth rotting fluff and romance- perfect for readers who like to see Adrien be simultaneously appreciated and embarassed by his loved ones.)

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2019 - Disconsolate

She never really saw the colour white and blue the same way again.

She never wanted to see those colours again.

(Angst, hurt and comfort, happy ending, romance, minor PTSD- a meal for readers who absolutely loved the episode Chat Blanc and are eager for a happier ending between Adrien and Marinette.)

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2019 - Selfish Touch

Everyone's soulmarks are completely unique. Some have markings on their skin, some have telepathy, some even have the red string tied around their little finger. The weirdest ones stray from tasting whatever your soulmate's eating to seeing their reflection in the mirror instead of yours. No two pairs are the same.

However, Marinette and Adrien are fated with a bittersweet destiny instead. After all, every time they touch, they end up in excruciating pain.

(Slight angst in the beginning, romance, some humour, fluff, AU- quite a change from your usual soulmate AUs but still incorporating canon’s events and the lovesquare has already sailed.)

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2020 - Only idiots try to woo those who are already in love with them

"So...Marinette Dupain-Cheng Noir, huh?"

Oooh, Adrien wasn't going to let her get away with that so easily. His lady seems to have a crush on him, Chat Noir him! And there's no way in hell he's going to let that go. However, he has a plan and he refuses to go off tangent.

"Personally, I think Marinette Agreste has a nicer ring to it, don't you think?"

(Comedy, humourous, romance, slight angst and blood- a feast for fans who enjoy Adrien bringing out his inner Chat Noir after figuring out who exactly his Lady is.)

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2020 - Wo Ai Ni!

Plagg thought that having his holder moon and squeal about Ladybug this and Ladybug that was utter hell.

.

He should have realised from day one that it was absolutely nothing compared to his babbling adoration for the heroine's civilian identity and now, his waxing poetry for the raven haired girl as he finally shattered the whole 'She's just a friend' delusion and accepted his feelings for her.

(Comedy, humour, fluff, tooth rotting fluff and romance- those hungry for hot mess Adrien, smug little Marinette and their class playing cupid, come get yo food.)

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2020 - Without you, what is the point?

The relief was instantaneously doused with ice cold water, freezing Ladybug from head to toe as Noir asked the question that has been eating him away since he woke up. "I want the truth, and the truth only..."

.

"Who the hell was that white monster?"

( One second Ladybug and him were fighting a brutal akuma; a malevolent, broken person whose powers enabled you to experience the most traumatising memory the person closest to you have suffered (an absolute insane method to enforce empathy), the next second, he was...

Here.)

(Angst, hurt and comfort, romance, emotional and happy ending- perfect for the masochists who enjoy reading the endless possibilities for if Adrien were to find out about Chat Blanc.)

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2020 (Ongoing) - Blanc Noise

It first began with the feeling of being watched and the flicker of shadows.

Then along came missing items being returned in the most odd places.

Soon it was the glimpses of blue eyes in the darkness and a silhouette of white that haunted her.

Marinette thought she saved him, that she saved her Chat Noir from the dystopian timeline.

She was wrong...oh so wrong...

(Horror, suspense, supernatural, romance, angst, mutual pining, hurt and comfort and emotional- readers with a love for horror and Chat Blanc will find this ongoing feast both filling and terrifying~)

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202(?) - Now that it’s raining more than ever, know that we’ll still have each other

Thunder roared in the background one last time and the rain intensified, slapping the surface of the umbrella like stones and soaking their feet. The nearby lamp posts that illuminated the streets gave the scene a golden hue, one in particular behind Marinette gave her a celestial glow whilst the rain looked like exquisite diamonds in the background. A moment worth photographing and exhibiting at a famous museum. However, Chat Noir chose to be selfish and instead branded the scene into his mind only for his eyes to see over and over again. 'Mon Dieu...I’m in love...'

(Romance, fluff and rain- let’s be honest here, Chat Noir falling in love with Marinette all over again under the rain. It’s a meal!)

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202(?) -  And maybe it's true I'm caught up on you, Maybe there's a chance you're stuck on me too

"I’ve been waiting hours upon hours, days after days, weeks after weeks, wondering where on Earth you have been." The hero pretended to faint like an overdramatic lady during the medieval times, the back of his hand against his forehead whilst the other clutched his heart. "You had me so worried! I was THIS close in scouring the city for you, Marinette!"

As the cogs started to turn in her head, Marinette finally understood her mistake and she smiled sheepishly which only egged the vigilant on.

(Humour, fluff, romance, sweetness- aren’t we all the equivalent of flustered damsels in England from five centuries ago when it comes to Chat Noir being a silly, clingy boy with Marinette~?)

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202(?) -  Baby I'll tell you all my secrets that I'm keepin', you can come inside

The shrill screams from the fleeing civilians and the furious rants from the raging akuma a few streets away snapped the duo apart in an instant, waking them up to the harsh reality.

That’s right...

Chat Noir was the first to arrive at the scene beforehand, quick to save Marinette from the line of fire heroically. Before he knew it, the smirking, devious girl grabbed him by the bell and pressed her lips against his with a softness that he's never, ever felt in his entire lifetime, pooling his entire body with a warmth that turned his insides into goo.

(Romance, slight comedy, cheeky and sauciness- kISS KISS FALL IN LOVE!)

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And that is all I have so far~ I hope you enjoy lads!

[oikawaplssteponme]

locked lips

pairing: Pro Hero! Izuku Midoriya x fem! reader

ratings/warnings: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI [please im literally begging you], swearing, legal consumption of alcohol, slight praise, fingering, use of the name ‘baby’, deku being a little bit of a cocky jerk, unprotected intercourse, make-up sex

genre: ex’s to lovers, smut, aged up characters, fluff/angst (?)

word count: ~2.2k words

synopsis: You broke up with him on impulse. That doesn’t mean you stopped loving him. Now you’re back at his place, at a party you planned, with him looking just so desirable. What else were you to do?

a/n: hi hi! alright friends, this being my first nsfw post i cannot stress enough how important it is that minors don’t interact. if i catch any minors interacting with this post, ill delete this post and block them, which i obviously don’t want to have to do. just please respect these rules :)) anyway, reblogs are greatly appreciated and enjoy xx

You scrolled through your phone, mindlessly. You tried your best not to double tap on any of the pictures on your screen. The last thing you needed was for him to know you were stalking his page.

“You should start getting ready,” said Uraraka. You looked over at her, cocking a brow.

“Uh I'm not going?” you huffed. Uraraka sat down beside you.

“Don’t be like that Y/N. You still have to go tonight, regardless of Deku.”

“The party is at Deku’s house. I’d look like a total idiot showing my face there after we broke up.”

You sat up and crossed your arms. Ochaco sighed. She grabbed your shoulders.

“Y/N, you are gonna go to the party and make Deku regret his entire life. Anyway, I’m bringing you as my plus one, so you have to come!”

You sighed. “Fine, but I’m staying with you the whole night.”

Ochaco smiled and gave you a quick hug. She got up and began scanning through her closet again.

You had been staying with Uraraka since you and Izuku had broken up. It was a blow out fight. You yelled at him for caring about work more than you. He shouted at you for not being understanding of his career. The words you meant mixed with the words you didn’t, and chaos erupted between you and him. So, you packed a bag and left. You didn’t want to, but you were done.

While you and Deku were still together, you helped him plan an event for him and his fellow Pro Heroes, as an opportunity for them all to get together. Now, you would be attending that same event. Only, not with him.

“Who would’ve thought there’d be a day where I’d have too many clothes to choose from,” laughed Ochaco. You smiled.

“You should wear that pink dress Iida bought you for your birthday. I don’t think you’ve worn it out yet.”

“You think? It’s not too much…”

“Of course not! You’ll look hot,” you teased. Ochaco smiled.

“Alright alright I’ll wear it. But then you have to wear this!” She pulled out a bag from her closet and handed it to you.

“Please don’t tell me you bought me something…”

“I had to! All your clothes are still at his place...and I wanted to make sure you felt good tonight.”

You gave Ochaco a nudge and pulled out the tissue paper. You felt the soft material in between your fingertips, pulling it out from the bag.

“Uraraka...”

“No need to thank me. You’ve been through hell and back these last few weeks, the least I could do is get you a pretty dress.”

You jumped towards your friend, engulfing her in a hug.

“Thank you.”

“Hey now, let’s get ready! The limousine will be here in just a few hours!”

~

You sat in the back of the limo with Ochaco as you were on your way to Deku’s party. You looked like a million bucks. A little part of you hoped someone would take notice.

The estate where Izuku lived was gated off. Once you were let inside, you could see the beaming lights from the top of the hill. You felt your stomach clench, nerves building inside of you. You wanted to see him, but you also didn’t want to see him doing better without you. You haven’t even been apart that long. A month maybe? Certainly not long enough for him to be over you, because you certainly weren’t over him.

“Oh wow, Deku went all out!” cheered Ochaco. You looked to see the endless decorations and glamor that surrounded you.

“Yeah, these were my ideas,” you mumbled. Ochaco placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t stress about it. Let’s just have fun, okay?”

You exited the vehicle and began to make your way inside. Champagne fountains and blasting music greeting you. His house was just as extraordinary as you remembered it. Nothing less than perfect for the No. 1 Hero.

“Uravity! Y/N!”

You turned to see your friend Iida, plus others from your old days at UA.

“You two are looking stunning tonight!” smiled Kirishima.

“Why thank you, it’s all thanks to this one,” you chuckled, giving Ochaco a nudge.

“I honestly didn’t expect to see you here tonight Y/N,” said Shoto. You shrugged.

“Well, I was invited after all. So Mr. Number One Hero can deal with it,” you huffed.

“Sounds like you could use a drink.”

Kaminari handed you a glass of champagne, which you took happily. You clinked glasses with your friends before dousing the beverage down.

“It’s gonna be a long night,” you mumbled to yourself.

You found yourself on the living room couch of Izuku’s large complex. You watched as Pro Heroes danced mindlessly with far too many drinks in their systems. You chuckled. At least they’re having fun.

You hadn’t seen Izuku all night, which was strange considering this was his party. You looked over to the glass staircase, knowing more than well that his bedroom was upstairs. You knew the layout like the back of your hand, after all, you lived here for a year.

You knew all your stuff had to be upstairs. You only had time to pack a small bag the day you left. Surely he wasn’t awful enough to throw your things away. You got up from the couch and quietly made your way up the stairs, hoping no one saw you sneak away from the action of the party.

His bedroom was at the end of the hallway. The doors were closed. You placed your shaky hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. It was unlocked.

You stepped inside. The smell of his cologne filled your senses, causing memories to flood in as well. His room was neat, as if no one had been sleeping in it. You turned to the closet. All your clothing should be on the right side.

“Sneaking around?”

You jumped, removing your hand from the closet handle. You turned around slowly.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t burn my shit,” you huffed. Izuku chuckled. He took a few steps towards you, opening the closet.

“Don’t paint me as a villain Y/N. All your things are safe and sound.”

Your side of the closet was just as you left it. Exactly how you left it. You looked back to Izuku.

“Perfect. Then I’ll be taking it with me when I leave-”

“I’m surprised you came at all. I figured you’d want to be as far away from here as possible.”

“I didn’t come for you, I came for Ochaco.”

“Oh right.”

Deku took a step back, placing his hands in his pockets. That devilish smile stared you down, causing your face to burn. You could see the outline of his muscles through his white button down.

“You look incredible by the way. New dress?” he smirked. You rolled your eyes.

“Well since all my clothes were here, yes.”

“Well serves you right for leaving out of nowhere.”

Your eyes widened and you clenched your fists.

“I didn’t leave out of nowhere, I left because you cared more about your job than me!”

“That’s not true-”

“To hell it is! I was tired of being second to everything so I left!”

Izuku took a deep breath and stepped closer to you. He placed his hand under your chin, having you look at him.

“I didn’t want to break up.”

Your breathing got heavier without you even realizing it. You also didn’t realize that Midoriya had you pressed against the closet door.

“I-I didn’t want to either…” you whispered. Izuku smiled.

“Then tell me baby, why did we?”

“B-Because I didn’t know what else to do…”

Izuku brushed his thumb against your cheek, then took a step back.

“Look, I’m sorry. The last thing I wanted was to make you feel under-appreciated...but-”

Izuku moved closer to you again, pinning your arms to your sides and pressing his torso against you all in a swift motion.

“-I can think of a better way to prove it to you.”

You tried to catch your breath. All you wanted was him at this exact moment. Was that a good thing? Of course not. Did you care? Of course not.

“Then prove it to me.”

Izuku wasted little time in moving you onto his California-king. He pinned you down onto the mattress and instantly kissed you. You felt the rush of butterflies swarm your stomach. You hated how much you had missed this.

Deku let go of your wrists and you began to unbutton his shirt. With little patience, he helped you from out of your dress. He dived back down, locking lips with you once more. You dragged your nails down his back, listening as soft groans escaped his lips. He moved down to kiss and suck on your neck.

“Fuck~” was all you were able to get out. Izuku’s hands grazed your burning body, feeling the skin that he had been craving since the day you left. He snaked his hand to your back, unbuckling your bra easily.

“I’ve still got it…” he teased. He threw the bra to the floor and gave you little time to breathe before kissing you again. You ran your fingers through his fluffy hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

“Izuku...please…”

His puppy dog eyes stared back at you.

“What is it?”

You panted heavily, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I need you.”

A smirk creeped onto his face. Izuku kissed your cheek.

“I promised I was gonna prove it to you, wasn’t I?”

Izuku sat up, unbuckling his belt. He slid off his pants and boxers. You caught a glimpse of him, causing your body to feel on fire. Midoriya placed his head in between your legs. He teasingly kissed your inner thighs, keeping his hands glued onto them. The anticipation was practically killing you.

“Izuku-”

“Patience baby...I’m in no rush…”

He moved up to your underwear, biting onto one of the strings and pulling it down. They were practically soaked already. Same with your bra, he tossed them to the floor.

He continued to kiss and nip at your thighs, inching impossibly closer to you. You couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed Izuku up and kissed him feverishly.

“So eager baby~”

“Please just fuck me,” you whispered. Izuku chuckled. He licked his lips.

“As you wish.”

Izuku spread your legs apart, dipping one of his fingers inside of you with ease. You arched your back, letting out a moan, and gripping onto his arm tightly.

“That’s it baby~”

Midoriya slipped another finger in, stretching you out even more. You clenched around him as he added more pressure.

He removed his fingers and better adjusted himself above you. He held his cock in his hand before slowly pushing it inside of you.

You didn’t remember him ever feeling this good.

Izuku began to thrust into you, slow at first before building in speed. You could feel yourself clenching around him, sweat forming on your skin. Midoriya groaned with each movement as he pushed even deeper. He kissed you as he fucked you, though you were such a mess you could barely keep up.

He knew exactly how to get you worked up.

“Oh god...I’m c-close,” you mumbled.

“Not yet…”

Midoriya moved his hand down, taking his thumb and rubbing your needy clit. You gripped onto him even harder, digging your nails into his skin as he pushed you over the edge.

“Oh fuck-fuck-”

“Fuck baby, I-I love you-I’m sorry-” he stuttered out.

“I-I love you t-too. Fuck Izuku- I’m gonna cum-”

“Cum with me baby-”

Izuku went even harder as he reached his climax, following you. You let out a pleasure filled scream as you let go. Izuku laid on top of you, catching his breath as your body shook below him.

He looked up at you, brushing his hair back.

“I love you,” he repeated, in case you didn’t believe him the first time. You smiled.

“I love you too.”

~

You had forgotten all about the party that was occurring below you. As you got redressed to head back down to meet Ochaco, you felt Izuku grab your hand.

“What is it?” you asked him. Midoriya took your other hand as he stood before you.

“I really am sorry. I don’t want you to leave again,” he explained. You sighed. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his cheek.

“It’s okay, I won’t.”

You walked downstairs with Izuku, his hand interlocked with yours. You watched as Ochaco’s jaw dropped at the sight of you.

“Oh so that’s where you were for the last hour and a half?” she huffed. You chuckled nervously.

“Yeah sorry…”

“Well the limo is here to take us back home, or are you staying here?” she asked. You looked up at Midoriya.

“I’m staying.”

Soon the Midoriya residence was quiet, just you and him remained. You curled up with him on the couch, his arms holding you tightly as he kissed your head.

“You wanna know why I didn’t get rid of any of your things?” he said. You laughed.

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I knew you’d be back.”

•

reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife For Thor Pt.01

10/12/2020

Arrivals and Departures

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,990

Warnings: language, talks of death, angst, talks of sex,

A/N: This is seriously...I mean, I don’t even know where this came from. Credits to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ because Roo gave me the idea and I kinda ran with it. Like omg, y’all. Blame Roo. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo Dialogue from Thor Ragnarok has been used in the beginning of this story.

Please do not REPOST my stories anywhere. Reblogs are most welcome!

He stands with his arms crossed in what appears to be a small sitting room with a large window that opens to the sublime sight of the black space beyond. Sterling silver, radiant red, and brilliant blue stars twinkle into infinity.

This is a sight that Thor had seen many times before and yet, for the first time in an age, he felt hopeful for the future.

His fight had ended. With Ragnarok, his journey had reached an end. Not the end, but certainly that of a chapter I which his battles might rest.

He imagines that this might be how his father felt when he had taken charge of the nine realms.

However violent that takeover might have been, his father had lied about many things—his sister for one—it had been the beginning of a quieter reign. A new formative time for his father. He may not have been a perfect man, but he’d grown wiser in many ways. Still not the best father, but his father, nonetheless.

Thor can almost picture his life on Earth, a time of peace. A time to rebuild. He will be able to give his people a good life there and he’s certain that his friends will appreciate having him closer. Friends from work they may be, but friends.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?” Loki asks, standing beside him with his hands held gently at his front.

Thor looks at him, waiting a moment to allow him to finish speaking.

“Yes, of course.” Thor assures him. “The people of Earth love me. I’m very popular.”

Loki takes a breath, looking out the window as he quickly accepts his brother’s reasoning while simultaneously realizing he must word this differently to get his point across.

“Let me rephrase that.” Loki begins, “Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring me back to Earth?”

Thor knows that Loki has a point. His history with Earth is…not perfect. To say the least.

“Probably not, to be honest.” He admits, noting Loki’s apprehension.

Loki smiles, a little knowing.

“I wouldn’t worry, brother.” Thor tells him, both turning back to the void outside. “I feel like everything’s going to work out fine.”

The moment seems endless, the two of them waiting as if the something should or might happen after Thor’s optimistic sentiments.

Then the moment passes and Loki sighs.

“Right, well, I’ll start rounding up the people who will be of the most use once we arrive.”

Thor gives his brother one parting smile but doesn’t watch him leave.

Thor doesn’t know exactly what has changed in him, what makes him so confident in this decision, but he knows it’s the best decision he could have made. And if he’s honest, though he’d never admit it out loud, the possibility of finally being on the same planet as Jane…well, he’d be a fool not to consider the possibilities.

~~~~~~~~~~

Something feels different today.

As you wake, turning onto your side to stare across the small room at the blinking line on the blank word document on your computer screen, you can’t quite put your finger on what is making you nervous.

Your stomach is rolling, making you queasy, despite the fact that you have no reason to be anxious.

Yesterday was like the day before and today will be just like yesterday. Nothing in your life ever changes, and that’s become so much of who you are that whenever you have even a doctor’s appointment your heart begins to race in dreaded anticipation.

With trembling hands you clutch your blanket, trying to find a reason behind this mood. Your breath quickens as your heart panics, your mind scrambling to make sense of these emotions but nothing comes to mind.

So, you get out of bed. You get dressed choosing a simple knee length black dress that fits loose enough to keep you comfortable throughout the day. Then you head into the kitchen and start the coffee pot.

Halfway through the brew you shut the machine off and rush to dump out its contents into the sink.

“Fuck.”

You sigh, realizing you should really invest in decaf coffee for morning just like this.

“Tea. Tea is better.” You rationalize and pull your kettle off the warmer and fill it in the sink.

You replace it in its dock then turn your back to it, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you lean against it.

Your fingers stroke the smooth and unvarnished wooden countertop, suddenly going rigid around the lip as your heart goes frantic again.

The island counter directly in front of you is made of the same unvarnished wood, a slightly mismatched chair on the other side, tucked in beside the open shelving that holds your pots and pans. Along the center of the island sits a small vase with nearly completely withered flowers.

You’re filled with relief as your hands are given new task and you hurry forward and take the clear glass vase, toss the flowers—which crumble as they hit yesterday’s empty cereal box—dump the water in the sink and quickly refill it.

Setting the vase aside, you pull open a drawer and pluck from an array of contents a small packet of flower food, a pair of small pruners, a long piece of twine, and head out the back door to your modest backyard.

There isn’t much in it, and it’s unfenced. A large tree at the back-left corner provides shade and pecans. In the center of the yard sits a set of antique iron work garden furniture. Twisted and shaped into what reminds you of lace. Two smaller chairs and one long bench with curved backs.

You’ve been of a mind to buy cushions for them, but you haven’t found an excuse to justify the expense.

In between the garden set sits an outdoor coffee table made of wood and painted white. It’s fading and will need a new coat soon but again the expense can wait. At least until you sell another story.

Apart from this set and a small wooden shed beside the pecan tree, your yard is mostly overgrown grass and carefully cultivated flowers lining the length of your narrow back porch.

You smile, noticing the length of your grass, grateful for another something to keep you busy today. Something to keep your mind off this mysterious and anxious premonition of something to come.

Quickly you move to a large blooming bush at the end of your porch and cut from it several bunches of pink and blue garden phlox.

You admire the shade of the blue flowers. The color reminds you a pair of blue eyes you’d once seen on a woman who’d come to your school as a child.

She’d been beautiful and kind, but she hadn’t picked you. Still, you’d never forgotten the color of her eyes.

The pink is pastel at the edges of its petals and vibrant magenta at the center.

As you head back in, the kettle only barely beginning to steam, you quickly arrange the bunches you’ve picked and wrap them up with the twine. You set the bushel aside and with the vase pulled close, you tear the packet of flower food with your teeth and pour it in.

Replacing the flowers, you give the kettle one more look before you race back into your bedroom to pick out a more appropriate outfit for cutting the grass.

You decide on a pair of jeans and a plain yellow t-shirt. Pulling them on, you pause with your shirt hooked around your arms as your eyes find your laptop screen, annoyingly black still.

With a groan you pull your shirt on and from the kitchen you hear the whistle.

Breakfast is simple. A store-bought muffin and a cup of breakfast tea do the trick and while you’re still chewing your last bite you head out to cut your grass.

It doesn’t take you too long and you lament the last bit as you cut it, the machine vibrating violently in your nervous grip.

No matter how much you try to distract yourself, this feeling of something terrible coming will not go away and you’re about to go out of your mind when a shout from your back door pulls your mind from it.

Standing there is an older man with an unconventionally handsome face. His lips are thin, cheekbones prominent, brown eyes sunken, and his nose long and defined. His dark hair slicked and parted, neatly kept to match his crisp navy suit.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed?” You shout at him as the whirr of the machine dies into silence.

The man moves towards you, a smile brightening his face.

“I was just at a meeting.” He explains.

“Do you ever stop working?” You wonder, pushing the lawn mower towards the shed as he follows.

“Only when I’m on vacation.” He tells you, amusement in his voice but subdued and you only hear it because you’ve known him for years.

“You don’t take vacations.” You sputter, almost laughing.

“Precisely.” He agrees.

He waits for you to shut the door and when you turn, he greets you with open arms.

“How have you been?” He asks, holding the hug for longer than you’re used to which only adds to the anxiety you’ve been feeling all morning.

What’s going on?!

“Hey, you okay?” You ask him, ignoring his question in favor of satisfying your curiosity.

He doesn’t answer but holds the hug a moment longer before pulling back to look at you.

“We have to talk.” He tells you, making your heart pound.

“Okay. You want some breakfast?” You offer, and swallow hard as your fear mounts.

“Sure.” He says and follows you inside.

You make him a full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, breakfast sausage, and buttered toast with a cup of coffee. Just because you can’t stand the idea of being hyped up on caffeine today doesn’t mean David won’t.

He digs right in while you stand on the other side of the island, sipping on your second cup of tea in hopes that it will ease your frayed nerves.

For a few minutes he gobbles down your food but when you shift on your feet for the fourth time, he clears his throat, takes a drink of his coffee, then puts his fork down.

“It’s not exactly bad news.” He assures you, easing you a little but something tells you that you still won’t like it.

“Just tell me, David.”

“As your lawyer,” He begins, sitting back in your old wobbly chair. “It’s my duty to inform you when there are developments with your family’s estate.”

“Right.” You agree, remembering the day he’d found you when you’d turned eighteen to tell you that you weren’t exactly as poor as you’d thought.

You’re not really rich either. You have a little money that your parents set aside for you. Old money that you hadn’t really touched. You use it mostly for bills when you can’t sell a story fast enough and most of your wealth is in this cottage. A family home that you’d had no idea was yours until David brought you here.

Finally, a home, after living in that school all those years.

“Well, I think it might be time to reveal a little more of that estate’s history.”

“Why?” You put down the floral porcelain cup and wrap your arms around yourself, afraid of what he’ll say.

How did you know that something was coming? What kind of sixth sense do you have?!

“After all this time, why would it matter?” You sigh, moving to pull out the second chair to his right on the shorter end of the island.

“Don’t panic.” He tells you, reaching over to place his hand over yours. “Let’s keep our heads. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“You say that, but why do I feel like that’s not exactly true?” You sigh.

He blinks, gathering his thoughts before he nods.

“I think I’ll tell you all at once. Like ripping a band-aid. Might be the easiest for you.” He realizes.

You don’t disagree.

“Your family comes from a very small people in Europe. Their origins are hard to trace but we know that they travelled between France, Norway, Denmark, Romania, Belgium, Sweden, Austria, Greece, and even spent a large amount of time in hiding in the United Kingdom.”

“I get it, they were nomads.” You sigh, your mood taking a turn from the anticipation of clarity.

“Yes. Nomads.” David agrees, patting your hand in an attempt to calm you. “I only mention it because there are many questions as to where they had originated from. No one seems to know. Unfortunately, I don’t think that question will ever be answered as all records before their stint in France have been lost.

“What we do know is that your ancestors, your bloodline are royalty.” David says, as easily as if he were telling you your age. “Even though the titles have long since been lost, you are technically—though you have no country to rule over—a princess.”

Slowly his words sink in and your face begins to relax. You look down at his hand over yours and without warning you laugh once. Then again, and again, until you’re leaning on your chair, head thrown back as your whole body shakes with it.

“What is so funny?” David asks, unamused but he goes back to eating.

“This is a joke, right? You’re pulling my leg.” You gasp, breath shallow.

“Not one little bit.” He shakes his head. “If we knew what country your ancestors came from, you would very much be in some palace or castle, reigning over your people. Your parents, were they alive, would have been King and Queen.

“You may not think it possible, but that is your legacy, Y/N. You are of royal blood.” David insists which sobers you a little, but you think it’s so silly that this is what you’d been so scared of.

This is what you’d been dreading?

“Okay. Fine. I believe you. But what does it matter? You said that if I still had a country then I would be princess, but clearly, I don’t. So, I’m not. What’s the point of telling me this when it makes absolutely no difference to my life?

“I don’t feel any different and it’s not like that makes me any richer? I’m still sitting on a decently sized fortune to assure that I don’t want for anything at least until my forties. What could this possibly change that you felt it necessary to tell me?”

David wipes his mouth with his napkin, finishing up the last bit of his coffee before he gets up and with his dirty plates moves towards the sink.

“Leave it, David. I’ll clean up later.” You watch him, sitting up a little straighter as that anxious feeling begins to grow again with his extended silence.

He washes the plate and as he does, your nerves begin to fray again. You anxiously pick at a small splinter in your island, waiting for him to speak.

He turns towards you as he finished washing his plate, then meets your eyes.

“You weren’t just revealing my heritage, were you?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I felt I needed to reveal your heritage because someone has reached out with the hopes of setting up a meeting with you.”

“Why would anyone wanna meet with me simply because they know of my lineage?” You wonder, slouched, hands moved to your lap to rest limply as you stare at David, fear increasing with every moment that passes.

“May I ask you a personal question?” He says, moving to stand closer as he dries his hand on your dishtowel.

“David, you know everything about me.” You sigh.

“Why haven’t you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend? I’m not sure I’ve ever asked if you-?”

“To be honest, I don’t know either.” You shrug. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Not even as a child?” He wonders.

“I was too busy wishing for parents as a kid.” You clarify. “I didn’t have time for crushes or any of that stuff.”

“Are you opposed to a relationship?” David asks, dropping the towel then moving around to sit back down in his seat.

“Opposed?” You ask, shaking your head. “Not exactly opposed. I’ve just never known anyone worth caring about like that. I’m mainly here at home. I do go into town when I need to get my packages but there isn’t anyone there that…I don’t draw attention like that.”

“You’re a pretty girl.” David tells you, reaching over to tug on your sleeve. “When you aren’t sweaty and covered in grass clippings.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

“It’s not something I really worry about.” You admit.

“Would you ever want to get married?” David asks, and your heart is suddenly pounding.

The idea of being someone’s wife had crossed your mind once or twice. Mostly when you’d been jotting down ideas or plotlines for your books. In the end, because you didn’t think you had enough insight, you’d opted to remove all romance. You write mysteries.

“I don’t know that I’d be any good at it.” You confess. “I’m not…I can’t exactly picture myself being someone’s wife.”

“Why not?”

“Because I…I don’t even know what I’d be like in a relationship, sharing space and time, much less sharing an entire life?” You shake your head. “I’m not saying that I haven’t thought about it but it’s only ever been in passing.”

David goes silent, tapping his index finger against the island.

“David, please. You know I can’t take the suspense.” You plead.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He nods then reminds himself, “Band-aid.”

You take a deep breath and turn to face him a little more in your seat.

“Well, you are aware of our planet’s newest inhabitants?”

“Th-The Asgardians in Norway?”

“Yes.” David nods. “Well, as a sign of good faith, to ensure that they will abide by Earth’s laws and to assuage any ideas from panicked world leaders that they might try and overtake the planet and make it their own, they have decided that marriage to someone from Earth might be the best way to do that.

“The Asgardian known as Brunnhilde has reached out to all families of royal blood and asked to meet with any eligible women, preferably—as she so tactfully put it—maidens.” He explains. “Which I take it you are?”

You swallow hard, your lungs rubbed of oxygen and yet you somehow manage to quietly acknowledge, “Yes. I’m a virgin.”

How can you not be after spending your whole life unconcerned with romance?

“You don’t have to do it, Y/N.” David suddenly says; however, you can see the ‘but’ in his eyes. “But if you don’t and the Asgardian king cannot choose from the women he does meet, you will probably be hunted down and forced to meet with him anyway.

“All world leaders are in agreement that this is the correct and only way to ensure the safety of the planet. They will not give up until every woman meeting the Asgardian’s requirements have been given the chance to meet with Thor.”

“Thor?!” You gasp, rising to your feet as hundreds if not thousands of images flash through your mind of the Thunder God and the Avengers fighting side by side.

“Yes.” David affirms, rising to his feet with you. “With the death of his father, he is now King of Asgard.”

Of course, Thor is going to be King. You already knew this. It’s common sense.

For some reason though, the confirmation made out loud, vocally…how the fuck are you supposed to marry Thor? An Avenger? That’s not…this cannot be real life!

“David,” You begin, apprehensive.

“I know. I know it is a lot to ask but as I said, I don’t believe we have much of a choice. He might very well not pick you.” David adds, rushing to comfort you and point out how unlikely you’d be the one Thor chooses to wed. “There are plenty of other women that he’s already met with. Women that are more suited to life in a palace than you are. The Hungarian princess is so eager to be Queen of Asgard that she’s been sending the other women bribes to try and convince them to refuse.

“It won’t make a difference, since they cannot refuse should Thor choose them.” David admits.

“A-all I have to do is meet with him?” You stutter, heart in your throat.

“Just a quick one-hour meeting. He’ll ask you questions. Get to know a bit about you. See if you are suited for life as Asgardian queen and then it’s over.” David assures you.

“I’m…There are lots of other women better for it, right?”

“Loads of them.” David promises.

New fears begin to take hold in your heart and mind.

It conjures up the last time you’d seen Thor, strutting from a massive spaceship docked over the ocean by New Asgard. He’d risen from its depths all wide shoulders and biceps. Heavy steps thudding as he’d stopped at the end of the massive ramp, waving at the cameras as his people had filed out behind him.

His hair cropped short as opposed to the long tresses he’d had when he’d last been on Earth, one eye missing with a sleek black and gold metal patch over it the absence.

You’ve never been threatened by him before. He’s a hero. But the prospect of being his wife and having wifely duties...

Your mind flies into panic as it shifts that large body over you, crawling towards you with his hands prying your legs open. The years of sexual experience radiating off of this fantasy Thor and all of his bulging muscles.

You almost want to throw up at the prospect of having to consummate a marriage. You haven’t exactly been eager to be with anyone since you haven’t met anyone special, but you’d at least imagined something more intimate. More personal.

“David I-they won’t choose me though, right?” You reach out for him because your legs are suddenly weak.

He takes hold of your arms and helps you stand still.

“They won’t.” He tells you, sounding convinced. “There are better candidates. Women with actual titles.”

He’s right. Of course, he’s right. He has to be right.

“It’s just a quick meeting.” He promises. “Then it’ll all be over, and you can come back to your cottage and live just as you have been, with no one to bother you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving your little place is difficult. After spending years without a home to call your own, now that you have your cottage, tearing yourself away from it is like pulling splinters.

You like your little yard. You like your flowers. You love your bed and its white sheets, little pink and yellow flowers printed on the soft fabric.

You’d made it more feminine. You’d brought flowers back and frills and lace. You’d made it everything you thought a cottage at the edge of a wood should look like and as time had gone by you’d brought in more personal touches.

After several years, your home is finally completely you.

This place, this massive Asgardian structure is less gold and more wood, stone, and iron. Silver steel polished so bright it gleams even in moonlight. This place is not you. It’s him. It’s Thor. His home.

Right now, with the day almost over, the palace takes on a warmer tone. The wooden structures and gray stone pillars are bathed in orange light, giving the place a pleasant glow and despite yourself, you can almost picture Thor meandering through these Nordic halls, a long crimson robe around his thick form.

It isn’t an unpleasant image now that you’ve given yourself some time to get used to the idea of him.

When you arrived you were greeted and seated in a large round room, the lower quarter of the sturdy walls made of ornate stone brick, the rest of the wall beautiful dark oak. The floor is also stone, massive carpets underneath several pieces of obviously Norse inspired furniture.

Well actually, the Norse was probably derived from Asgardian styles. There’s a difference in them that you can see but don’t understand. The coffee table in front of you has ornately carved legs, golden embellishments, and a black coat of paint.

The sofa you’re sitting on is mostly wood, painted gold, with plush and soft satin covered cushions in wine red.

There are two other tables around the room, a collection of books on one and an array of fruits, foods, and drinks on the other. There are several different statues and stands. Lamps that look as if they should have flames instead of the electric bulbs they now hold.

Small touches of modern design filter through the room complimenting the more traditional décor.

“Hello there.” Says a lilting voice.

You recognize it and turn to find Loki, slipping through a narrow opening in the large set of doors you’d been escorted through almost half an hour ago.

He’s dressed in a black suit with a plain white t-shirt underneath dressing the look down.

“H-Hi.” You stammer, surprised by his appearance.

You stand, knowing well that he may not be King but for Asgard, Loki is still a prince.

“No, please. Do not get up on my account.” He gestures at your seat and you settle back in as he crosses to the table with all the books. “I forgot some papers in here, I only came to retrieve them. Do not mind me.”

You avert your eyes, afraid to see something you shouldn’t and sit just as stiffly as before, hands fisting the royal purple dress you’d chosen to wear. It’s simple, quarter sleeves, high neckline with a small V at the center. Just above your knees in length, it rises as you grip it.

“Nervous to meet my brother?” Loki asks, stopping by the doors as he eyes your tight grip.

“This whole situation is a little stressful.” You admit. “I’m…I live in a small house in the middle of nowhere. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Ah, you’re the one with the lost lineage.” Loki realizes, moving closer with interest. “A hidden princess. You could have refused to come, you know?”

“I would have been forced eventually.” You point out. “There are a lot of people who want this marriage thing to happen.”

“True.” Loki agrees, “My fault, I’m afraid. I make them nervous.”

“You did very nearly destroy New York.” You point out, remembering the carnage reported that day. The aftermath had taken forever to clean up.

“I did.” Loki agrees. “Do you fear me?”

“No.” You admit. “If you weren’t safe, Thor wouldn’t have brought you back here.”

“He could just be too trusting.”

“Maybe.” You agree. “But with the fate of his entire people tied to the successful acclimation of Asgard and Earth, if you were really a threat, I think he’d have cut you out before coming back.”

Loki’s lips slowly curl up into a smile before breaking apart into a toothy grin.

“What is your name again?” He asks, a sparkle of something in his eyes.

“Y/N.” You tell him. “Why?”

“No reason. This has been very illuminating, Y/N. It was lovely to meet you.” Loki says then with a quick bow of his head, he leaves you to your solitude.

Confused, you sit there completely at a loss for what just happened.

Had you taken too many liberties with Loki? What had that smile meant? You’d been made aware that Loki was also involved in recruiting women of royal blood into marriage meetings for Thor, but you hadn’t expected him to know you by the description of where you live.

Maybe because it’s so unlike anyone else’s?

You sit there stewing for another twenty minutes, wondering if maybe you’re being stood up when the large doors open once again.

You shoot up onto your feet, so damn nervous your body reacts without your permission. Through the door this time comes the man of the hour. The massive Thunder God dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain gray t-shirt crosses over to the table with food and pours himself a stein of what looks like beer from a sloshing brown pitcher.

“Estrid, is this from the new batch of ale?” He booms loud enough that he can be heard even outside of the room as he takes a quick sniff of the liquid.

His voice is so deep.

Licking your lips, you watch him drink the entire stein without taking a breath or waiting for an answer, and then refill it before grabbing it and taking an apple with his other hand.

He turns, holding the fruit up to his mouth and freezes with it pressed to his lips as he meets your eyes, realizing he isn’t alone.

You’re not exactly sure what to say or what to do, completely taken aback by this strange and sudden exposure to candid Thor. Both of you unprepared to see each other despite the fact that you’ve literally been waiting nearly an hour for him.

His confusion mounts as he lowers the apple, looking around as if expecting an explanation or to see if he’s in the correct room.

“What time is it?” He suddenly asks, meeting your gaze again.

“N-Nearly six.” You tell him, and his one good eye goes slightly wide.

“Oh!” His lips curl up into an easy smile. “I did not think it was that late.”

His smile makes you feel a little more at ease, but you’re still on edge.

“You’re my meeting.” He tells you, as if you don’t already know that. “Y/N? Y/L/N, right?”

“Yes.” You nod, then before you can stop yourself… “You’re late.”

Thor blinks. Startled it seems or maybe just surprised, but then he smiles again. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I mean, you can be as late as you’d like. This is your meeting. Sorry. I didn’t…I don’t know why I said that.” You rush to say.

“No, no.” Thor turns to put down his stein of beer and the apple replaced in its bowl. “You’re right. I am late. We were supposed to meet at five, weren’t we?”

When he turns back to you, you nod.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you have much you could be doing.” Thor says, moving towards you and gesturing at the spot you’d been in before sitting down at the other end of the sofa.

“No.” You confess. “Not really. I’m actually one of the only people that probably doesn’t have much to do. Well, I mean, I could be writing. Or cleaning house.”

“They tell me that you had no knowledge about your lineage before Brunnhilde reached out to your lawyer?”

You nod. “It’s not really important. Or…no. That’s not the right-what I mean to say is that it isn’t significant to my life.”

“Don’t you want to know who your family is?” Thor wonders.

“I know who my family is. I had a mom. And a dad. Both died just after I was born. That’s my family.” You explain. “Apart from getting to meet you, the news that my family was once royalty doesn’t change it in any way. I’m still just as insignificant today as I was before.”

Thor narrows his brow, watching you for a long torturous moment as he considers what you’d just said.

“Tell me about yourself.” He suddenly says, turning to lean back against the arm, his own thrown over the back, right leg bent up onto the sofa.

“There isn’t much to tell.” You admit. “I was born, my parents died in an accident. I was taken to a school for orphans where I grew up and aged out. On the day I had to leave, Mr. Valis found me and gave me my inheritance which is a good amount of money and a small house. I’ve been living there ever since.”

“You didn’t take any additional schooling?” Thor asks, relaxing. “All the other young women I’ve met have made it a point to tell me about the universities and colleges they’ve attended.”

“I took a few correspondence classes.” You tell him, “But I’ve only ever wanted to write, and I didn’t feel that I needed a higher education to do it. I mean, it would probably look better on my resume, but my writing should speak for itself.”

You can’t really tell what he’s thinking with the way he’s watching you, his hand playing with a thread on the back of the sofa.

You take it as a good sign that many of the other women have a degree of some sort. They must want someone respectable with a good education, right?

“How do you feel about political marriages?” He asks, and you’re stunned for a moment.

“Um…”

“Be honest, please.”

“I guess I don’t like the idea?” You admit. “Being forced to marry someone you don’t love because duty demands it? Feels archaic. If you love someone, whether they fit into whatever political standards are being demanded or not should not be a reason to get married.”

Thor sits up, shifting a little closer as he leans towards you.

“If you were asked to go along with a political marriage in every way but the heart, could you?” He wonders, much more interested than before.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

“Well, let’s say for example, you and I were to marry. We’d be expected to have children. You’d be bound to do your duties as Queen of Asgard, but you would not be required to love me. Would you be able to fulfill these requirements?”

“You don’t want to do this, do you?” You realize, seeing the eagerness in his eyes. His shoulders slump. “If you don’t want to get married, why don’t you just say something?”

“I must do what I can to ensure the future of my people.” Thor says, sighing deeply.

“I’m guessing there’s someone else you do love that you can’t marry?”

“Not that I can’t but won’t. She isn’t ready for marriage and I don’t feel right making that kind of demand from her when she clearly has other things she’d like to be doing with her life. And…yes, maybe a little bit can’t. A royal marriage would make the most sense. I need a Queen.” Thor says.

You can’t find the words to tell him how fucked up this all is so instead you sit in silence.

“I know this is not ideal. I’ve tried to find other ways of assuring Earth of my commitment to this planet but nothing I’ve suggested is good enough.”

He needs a Queen. This gives you solace. No one is less of a queen than you are.

“I’m sorry.” You finally tell him. “It’s not fair. But I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone who checks all those boxes for you. I hear the Hungarian princess is pretty eager.”

Thor ignores you, stroking his beard as he watches you. “What do you want from a marriage? Let us say it’s many years from now and you have found someone you love beyond all reason. You two decide to get married. What does that look like?”

You’re a little surprised by the question but you humor him and take a moment to really think about it.

The man you picture has no face. There is no one you care enough about to imagine. So…because he’s the only option, you take Thor’s face and give your imaginary husband a face.

“We’d be partners.” You tell him. “Open about everything important. We would respect each other’s individualities. If something is troubling me, I would like to know that I could turn to him and if he had something on his mind, I’d hope that he could turn to me too.

“We’d be honest about even the unpleasant aspects of our life together. If we disagreed, we would talk about it openly. We wouldn’t hide from each other. We’d spend as much time as we could together and always make time for each other.”

You picture Thor sitting at your island in your comfy cottage. He’s so massive that he’d take up so much space. You’d have to squeeze past him, and he’d turn to wrap his arms around your waist as you pass.

He’d trap you there, not letting you move.

“We’d make breakfast together. Cramped up in my little kitchen, it would turn into play.” You smile. “We’d lounge around the house, reading and listening to music. In the evenings we’d move out to the backyard and watch the sun set then watch the stars until I’d fall asleep on his shoulder.”

As if you’re caught doing something you shouldn’t be, you startle yourself out of your daydream and feel your neck heat up.

You’d crossed from rational marriage into sentimental and you’re a little shocked at the detail in which your mind has gone.

You’re also a little startled by the pleasant feeling that picturing Thor in those situations has given you.

For someone who has never had a crush, you’re startled by the butterflies it gives you.

“But I’ve never been into anyone like that before.” You tell him, looking away from his intense gaze. “So, even if that’s what I picture, it’s not like it’s ever gonna happen.”

“It might.” Thor says, sounding as if he might be trying to comfort you.

“It won’t.” You assure him. “I hope your girl changes her mind.”

There’s a bitter ache in your chest as you say it, and you’re certain it’s only there because of the little fantasy you just allowed yourself to have. You should have picture someone else.

“I hope they relax on the royal blood thing and let you marry someone you love instead.” You hope.

“You say that as if you already know that I won’t pick you.” Thor observes.

You smile wide, laughing even as you bite your lip. “Well, I’m nothing like the girls you’ve met with. I don’t have endless amounts of money. I don’t have a prestigious education or extensive family. I don’t know anything about being royalty. The others have been doing it their entire lives. I’m the least likely candidate. I don’t fit the requirements, except for the bloodline thing.

“I only agreed to meet with you because I knew that the likelihood of you picking me was almost non-existent.”

“Ouch.” Thor says.

“No!” You rush to say. “You’re very…I mean, you’re kind from what I can tell and honorable. You’ve saved Earth a couple times and you’re a little self-centered but only in a superficial way that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a good man.

“I honestly don’t know why your girl won’t marry you but I’m not right for this.” You nod. “I wouldn’t make a good Queen for you.”

Thor nods slowly, thinking for a minute before he straightens up and turns to rise, slapping his hands on his knees before he moves back towards the table of fruit and beer.

“You’re probably right.” He agrees, and for some reason, you’re disappointed.

Not so much that he isn’t picking you, but rather that he sees you aren’t enough. You’re lacking in some way. Which you already knew but…knowing he thinks that makes you feel a little lousy despite that being something you wanted.

“I suppose I’ll just have to pick someone more suitable. Someone who knows better about ruling a people. All the same, thank you for coming.” Thor says, dismissing you.

He picks up his stein again and turns to look at you as you rise.

“It was a pleasure to meet you.”

You nod, “Likewise.”

After a moment of hesitation, you give him a wave and move for the doors, trembling hands reaching out to yank the doors open and make your escape.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been weeks since you met with Thor and you’ve completely forgotten the whole thing. Life has gone back to normal and even though you now know that you’re from royal stock, nothing, as you expected, has changed.

The only plus that has risen from this whole situation is that you can now picture marriage a little better, however inexperienced and cliché it might be, you can make something up now.

Your little fling with the idea of Thor had given you fuel to slip a little romance into your writing and your fingers are flying across the keyboard of your laptop as you type up a new and promising mystery about a set of lovers and the body they discover in the attic of their new home.

You hate to be interrupted during a writing session, but you must have forgotten that about yourself because your phone starts to ring.

Normally you mute it before you even sit down to write.

With a growl you reach over and take a quick look at the number.

David flashes on your screen and quickly you swipe to answer.

“Hey, can I call you back in like an hour? I’m in the middle of a chapter and I’m on a roll.” You plead, fingers still flying across the keys.

“Y/N, Thor chose you.” David’s voice says and your fingers freeze.

There’s a pounding in your chest and your head is full of white fuzz. Your legs are numb, and your stomach is swirling with both flutters and nausea.

You can’t have heard that right.

“What?” You ask, voice shaky.

“Thor. He chose you. I just got off the phone with Brunnhilde and she wanted to let me know so that I could call you and let you know that she’ll be by tomorrow to pick you up.”

This can’t be happening.

“She said to pack only what you absolutely need. Everything else will be provided for you.”

“David…I…I can refuse, right? I don’t have to marry him.” You plead desperately.

“Y/N…” David sighs. “You agreed to this before you went to see him. I’m afraid the time to back out has come and gone.”

“But I can just not do it.” You argue. “They can’t force me to do it.”

“The government will seize your assets if you refuse.” David explains. “They want this done. I’m sorry, Y/N. There’s no backing out of this now.”

“But…But he loves someone else.” You tell him and even though your mind knows that this should be the last thing to concern you, it should not be the first reason you can think of why marrying Thor is a bad idea, it is.

As your eyes focus on the little blinking line of your word doc, your heart gives a painful ache knowing that your husband will be loving someone else.

[shadowsinger11]

You, The Stars And I

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k (oops)

Requested by @amira3113: Can I request a fic abt the reader seeing Fred and George comforting a kid after Umbridge punished him and the reader helps them and Fred thinks it's so cute what she is doing and she does the same and extra mega fluff, pls?🥺 you don't gotta do it if u don't want to btw.. so no pressure ;)

Warnings: A bit more angst than intended, Fred being a soft boi™️

A/N: I don't know how to feel, I just roasted myself hardcore with this and I'm feeling even more single. I'm sorry for not being able to use a 'keep reading' tab

Masterlist

The sun fell asleep behind the endless hills, enveloped by dense, opaque darkness. Its golden rays no longer shone through the wide windows of the castle and instead let shadows creep into the long, empty hallways, revealing the ugly truth about what the school had turned into over the past few months.

The naked walls stood tall, towering over you and inching closer with every step you took, and you hung your head low, aiming to block out the singular buzzing thought in your head.

Hogwarts was no longer home.

Your heart ached at the memory of hundreds of students chattering and laughing all day long, freely walking around the school grounds and simply being children. You so terribly missed being careless and having fun without the fear of potentially facing a life-threatening punishment.

But now there was no laughter, only your footsteps echoed in the hallway.

You were headed straight to your common room, determined to go to sleep early. The curfew and the dozens of new restrictions prevented you from meeting your friends, and you hoped that sleep would at least somehow distract you from your worries for a couple of hours.

The deafening silence nearly caused you to miss the muffled sobs and quiet whispering, coming from a turn not far away. It seemed as though there were more than one voice speaking, and your chest clenched with dread.

You hurried your pace until you reached the source of the noise, and peeked from behind the wall.

The sight most definitely surprised you, but the pain in your chest only sharpened.

There, on a bench, Fred and George were sitting, hunched over a small boy, probably no older than a second year. You could tell by his green robes which house he was in, but his red, tear-stained face was what alarmed you.

You immediately approached him and fell to your knees. George was on his left, rubbing slow, soothing circles on his back, while Fred was on the other side, holding his small hand in his, on the back of which a few words glistened with fresh crimson blood.

I must not ask questions.

You sent the twins a questioning look, but Fred dismissed it by shaking his head; clearly that was not the time for an explanation, nor was one necessary to begin with.

You placed a hand on the boy's knee to make your presence known.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

This only caused the child to sob harder and you internally cursed for having to go through this routine.

"It hurts…" he whimpered, "I thought Hogwarts was fun. I met friends last year and it was great. But now… Now I really want to go home."

Your jaw clenched and you swallowed hard, furious about seeing innocent children slowly losing faith and joy in life, turning into hollow shells of the amazing people they could have grown to become.

The horrifying experience would inevitably have a massive impact on them and unexplainable guilt twisted your stomach. And even though the long-term damage had already been done, you could at least take care of the temporary pain.

"It's not going to hurt for long, I promise," Fred whispered, tenderly playing with the boy's trembling fingers. "Ours are already fading."

"That's true, see?" George showed the back of his hand on which you could make out the faint, bloody words 'I must not cause trouble.', and you felt sick. "Soon you won't even remember it was there."

Tears stung in your eyes, but before you gave them a chance to fall, you turned to the redheads.

"I can heal the wound. Well, to an extent. If anything, I can lessen the pain," you began. "But I need to grab something from the Charms classroom."

Fred frowned, confused, "Wouldn't you need a potion for that? Why Charms?"

"Snape isn't the only one armored with potions for just in case things go wrong. And we can't risk going to the dungeons at this hour. It's not wise to tell Madam Pomfrey yet either."

The twins nodded. George said.

"It's not a good idea for all of us to go at once. I suggest one of us returns and covers the others up if necessary."

"I'll go with her," Fred stated without a second thought. "I can get them safely where they need to be, let her do her thing and bring them back."

Fred's eagerness to help filled you with warmth and for once that night you had the strength to smile, even for just a second.

"That sounds like plan then. But you should really take the map," George added, already pulling out the neatly folded Marauder's Map from his backpack. "Don't wanna risk getting caught by the ugly toad, you know."

"As if she'd be strolling down the hallways late at night. Doesn't she have hobbies?"

"Does hanging creepy pictures of cats on pink walls count as such?" you commented and the second year giggled, which made you feel slightly better as well.

Fred took the map from George and you grabbed the boy's hand.

"Good luck, guys. And, like, don't die."

"Woah, greatly encouraging, Georgie," you replied sarcastically, but appreciated it nonetheless. "You sure you'll be fine?"

"Absolutely. I got the route memorized like the back of my hand. I'll be careful."

And with that, George headed towards the Gryffindor Tower while you, Fred and the boy went in the opposite direction - the East Towers.

The night was eerily quiet, only the footsteps and shuddering breaths of the three of you keeping you sane. The soft light, gleaming at the tip of your wands, didn't do much to brighten the empty hallways which now seemed like endless voids of darkness.

Occasionally Fred would warn you about Filch's cat approaching, or Peeves causing trouble nearby, but fortunately, you reached the classroom sooner than expected.

"Alohomora," you whispered, but the door didn't bulge when you tried to open it.

Fred grinned, "Surely a Charms professor wouldn't let such a cliché unlock his own classroom."

"Shut up," you grumbled. "Aberto!"

The door opened. Fred's eyes widened in amusement and you flashed him a charming smile on your way in.

You placed the boy to sit on a desk as you and your friend rushed to look through drawers and chests for something useful. Most of them were full of basic items such as old books and quills, half-full jars of salamander blood, pearl dust and gillyweed, and after long fifteen minutes of not having found anything, you slid your back down against the wall, sighing in frustration.

Sleep-deprivation was kicking in, but your anxiety was getting stronger.

You needed to do something. Fast.

"What about this chest right here?" Fred asked from the other side of the classroom, pointing at something under Flitwick's desk.

You shook your head, "Doesn't open, already tried. Even if the cure is there, we can't get it."

"I take it your brilliant spells don't work anymore?" the redhead teased and you so badly wished to slap away the cocky smirk on his face. Or kiss it. There was something oddly attractive about the way he'd set your nerves on fire, and you hated yourself for enjoying it. Fred seemed to love it too.

"If you're only here to be annoying, just leave."

"I'm here to help too. I can multitask."

You nearly jumped from the ground to strangle him, and he clearly saw through your intentions because his toothy grin almost split his face in two. That bastard.

That super annoying, devilishly handsome bastard.

"Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you coming? Not that I mind the attention," he shrugged.

You rose to your feet and made your way over to where he was standing, not granting him the pleasure of facing him, "Don't flatter yourself, Weasley. Your stupidity is simply impossible to be unnoticed."

Fred laughed, "Oh, so I was annoying and now I'm stupid too? Make up your mind, woman."

You pulled out your wand and smirked at him over your shoulder.

"You said it yourself that you can multitask. Aberto!"

Nothing.

Fred squinted his eyes as he stared at the wooden chest. What spell could the professor have possibly used? Could you have even heard of it? The chances of ever finding the precious item were becoming grimmer with each passing second and the inevitable sense of dread had started to settle in.

After a minute Fred finally spoke.

"I think your problem is that you're using spells that only work on doors. You need a charm which unlocks containers."

"You might be right. What would that be then?" you enquired, glancing at the redhead. He took his own wand out of his robes.

"I know a spell that's come in handy before. Hopefully it will work now," he wettened his lips and said. "Cistem Aperio!"

Blinding light caused you to cover you eyes,  and the chest opened with a loud thud which could have easily alerted the entire floor of your presence if it wasn't for the silencing charm you were lucky to have used when you first entered the classroom.

You finally dared to open your eyes and kneeled on the ground, carefully rummaging through fancy-looking boxes and vials sparking with liquids that seemed to be quite important.

"What are we looking for?" Fred asked as he crouched next to you.

"Wound-Cleaning Potion. Purple."

It was weird having Fred stand this close to you; sparks of electricity would pierce your heart every time his shoulder brushed against yours, or his fingers would accidentally graze yours. And when they did, they had you longing more and more for their touch, for their warmth.

But this warmth did not belong to you.

You swallowed down the disappointment and instead attempted to focus on the task at hand.

Just as you had expected, the precious crystal bottle was carefully wrapped in sparkling cloth and placed inside a box that was hidden deep in the corner of the chest. You breathed a sigh of relief and got on your feet, determined to stay away from Fred. For his sake and yours.

"Here it is," you smiled at the boy as you walked over to him. "Fred, can you get me some bandages from the drawer in the back?" you asked, pointing right behind him, and he did as he was told.

You took the hand of the young Slytherin and examined it closely - the wound was sure to leave a nasty scar, one that would never heal.

"Can you make it disappear?" he asked, fearfully.

Your heart dropped. But you replied with all the courage you could muster.

"I can try."

Fred was soon by your side and placed the medical items on the desk; a half-full packet of cotton, some bandages and a small box of bandaids. You muttered a 'thanks', not even looking at him, and opened the middle-sized bottle. It spread a characteristic smell of ashes, mint and lemon when you lifted it towards your nose - it was ready to use.

"So what now?" Fred asked.

Not granting him a reply, you simply took a small piece of the cotton and dipped the opening of the bottle into it, soaking it with a generous amount of the purple, dense liquid. The smell grew stronger.

Fred could only watch as you yet again gently grabbed the boy's hand and carefully dabbed the back of it; a thin steam of smoke soared from the contact of wet cotton and wounded flesh, purple mixing with red, and the kid hissed in pain. You worked attentively but quickly, with measured gestures and a straight face, and you missed the way Fred's eyes seemed to soften at the sight of you helping a small kid.

But one thing baffled him - why did you suddenly start acting so emotionless? Even towards the youngling who didn't know a thing. And though your expression seemed calm and collected, the Gryffindor noticed your tensed jaw.

What he wasn't aware of, however, was the racing speed of you heart, increasing each second. He wasn't aware of the short, shallow breaths you were taking because if you had allowed yourself to breathe freely, you'd certainly let out tears along with the deeps sighs.

Every move was calculated, every word and breath.

You pressed a fresh piece of cotton against the now cleaned wound and kept it there as you began to roll the bandage over it, securing it in place. When you were done, you placed a gentle, lingering kiss on the hand.

"There. It should do the trick."

The boy's face lit up and he hugged you, not giving you another choice but to wrap your arms around his small body. At least you had managed to bring him back some of the lost warmth.

"We should get him to his dorm," you told Fred and despite not facing him, he knew the words were directed towards him. That still didn't prevent the stinging pain in his chest from being so effortlessly avoided by you, and he frowned, bewildered by your unexpected coldness towards him.

Had he accidentally done anything to upset you? Were you mad at him? What for?

The boy jumped to his feet, visibly less burdened despite the present tear stains on his puffy cheeks. You hoped he'd be able to get some sleep that night regardless of the circumstances.

The three of you left the classroom as quietly as you had entered it and went in the direction of the dungeons. Fred, as usual, did his job at looking at the map and keeping track of the names, moving on the yellow-ish piece to old parchment.

Fortunately, you reached the Slytherin common room without any disturbances along the way, and the boy went inside, eager to crawl into bed and not think about the ugly lady who had punished him so unfairly just a few hours ago.

The door closed without a sound, leaving you and Fred on your own.

His soft voice broke the burdening silence.

"Are you going to bed?"

If you were being honest, you hadn't even thought about sleep during your secret adventure and though your body was on the verge of giving out, your restless mind was sure to wander all night. And the idea of being alone with your thoughts scared you.

"Actually… I don't think so," you began, fiddling with your fingers in hopes to not let Fred see how much they were trembling. "I doubt I'd be able to get any sleep now."

"Me too, I admit," Fred scratched the back of his neck, uncertain as to how to make the situation less awkward than it was. Trying to get you to talk was hard enough as it was, but your sudden avoidance wasn't helping either. All Fred wished for was to witness the hopeful spark in your eyes, the spark that he had noticed diminish on the first day of school when the unsettling news was announced.

Fred was determined to bring the light back and see your joyous smile again.

Without skipping a beat he said.

"Come with me."

Your eyes shot up in surprise, meeting Fred's for the first time that night. You expected to see the ever-present playful mischief in them, but instead they glistened with something you could not quite recognize. The corners of his mouth had formed a smile, one that didn't intend to mock or provoke in any way, but still contained his usual boyish charm. It was humble and sincere, and along with the anticipating look in his eyes it read.

Trust me.

Your mouth went dry, any and all reasoning to stay vanishing in thin air as you tried to make sense out of your inner conflict. Fred surely wouldn't care if you said no, would he? It's not like he'd be offended that someone like you refused to go with him; why would he even be interested in you in the first place?

But the idea of spending some time alone with him did sound very tempting - you desperately needed some positivity in that moment, feeling exceptionally drained of all your energy after having to witness the emotional and psychological impact of Umbridge's dictatorship. And if there was someone who could lift your spirit even in such dark times, that would be Fred.

Screw the idea of a potential relationship, you needed a friend right now.

"Where to, Weasley?"

Fred grinned at the nickname and shoved hands into his pockets.

"The Astronomy Tower. Are you coming?"

You smiled at him.

"Sure."

It was indeed a brilliant idea to spend the night at the place where anyone rarely ever set a foot. Regardless of it being crowded during classes all day, the Tower wasn't a common choice for students to meet, them much preferring locations like the common rooms, the Great Hall, the school grounds or even the Black Lake. But the Tower did possess a magnetic, obscure charm which many people failed to comprehend and appreciate; charm only meant to lure the wandering souls seeking peace under the stars.

Fred approached the iron railing, breathing in the cold, early spring air, and sat cross-legged on the ground. As he saw you standing a few feet away from him, he patted the empty spot next to him.

"Come on now, don't leave me sitting on my own like that," he joked and his face lit up when he noticed the ghost of a smile on your lips for a brief moment. You joined Fred on the ground, settling on a polite distance from him, and though he was slightly disappointed by the gesture, he was grateful to be in your presence nonetheless.

Silence fell over both of you like soft velvet while you stared off into the horizon; the view reached the Forbidden Forest, the outlines of which had melted into the pitch black sky like ink, the lines between the two practically nonexistent in the dead hours of the night as they blurred into one endless void.

"I don't remember the last time I saw stars on the sky," Fred addressed your ever-listening companions above in a low, hushed voice that caused warmth to blossom within you regardless of the cold surrounding you.

"Me neither," you agreed, nostalgia creeping into you, but you decided you'd welcome it this time. "Such a shame we can't see the moon though."

Your friend nodded, lips pursed into a thin line, "That's because it's currently new moon. We'll need to wait for awhile until it's visible again."

You turned to Fred and the air was knocked out of your lungs. All you could do was silently admire the way the starlight was softening his sharp features and giving his usually flaming red hair a calming shade of copper. His eyes seemed to glow in the dark, and you found yourself coming to the conclusion you had realised long ago.

He was such a beautiful man.

Those glowing eyes landed on yours and you felt your face heat up.

"How are you?" he asked abruptly and you choked out in bafflement.

"Y-You mean, right now? Or in general?..."

"How are you coping?" he rephrased. "You know, with everything going on. I noticed Umbridge bothering you recently."

A shuddering breath.

"I like to think that I'm doing better than others," you nodded hesitantly, finding it hard to sort out your emotions. "I'm more worried about the most vulnerable among us, the youngest students. They're just children. They're the ones that are most terrified. I really hope Dumbledore will be able to do something about it… no matter where he might be right now."

Fred was watching you intently; he did not miss your expression, darkened with concern, nor did he miss your slumped figure, slightly hunched over for a reason he believed was other than exhaustion. Your friend moved closer and nudged your foot with his.

"I don't want you to talk to me about the rest. I want to hear about you. I can clearly see you're being tormented by her."

"As if you're not."

"That's not the point," he insisted and placed a hand on your knee, causing you to face him. His smile was gone. "I need to know how this madness is affecting you."

"I couldn't care less about what that toad puts me through," you shook your head dismissively and shrugged. Why was he getting so worked up about it? "It doesn't matter."

"Of course it does! It matters to me!" Fred hissed in frustration. "Do you think it doesn't hurt me every time I see Umbridge picking at you or calling you for detention? Because it bloody does and you have no idea how horrible it feels to not be able to help you."

He gave your knee a squeeze.

"For once, just for one time, please. Please, stop trying to be the hero of everybody. Believe me, we see- I see how hard you're trying to keep your chin up despite all the shit you're facing, and that's admirable, but right now it's not necessary. Let go. It's just me."

A way too familiar lump formed in your throat and your chest constricted painfully before it harshly dilated, letting out choked breaths. Fred was quick to envelope you in his long arms before your tears even rolled down your cheeks, and when they did, they met his shoulder. Your hands flew around his neck, body falling into his and soaking up his warmth. Fred pressed his soft lips to your temple, calming the racing pulse as you cried freely and unapologetically. Darling, you feel too much.

It's just me.

Your friend didn't let you out of his hold even when your heart-wrenching whimpers were reduced to weak sobs. He continued cradling your exhausted body which was on the verge of completely giving out. But Fred didn't mind, finding astonishing strength in your vulnerability.

After what seemed like hours, you forced yourself to timidly whisper, lip quivering, "I'm scared... And confused."

"Me too, sweetheart," Fred hummed into your ear. "Me too."

You wiped away the trails of dried tears lingering on your face.

"There's just too much going on. Too much that I'm not ready for."

Realization flashed in Fred's brown eyes and they looked down at you with so much longing, sincerity, but also sympathy and understanding.

You weren't angry at him. You were afraid.

And that was alright.

There was enough time, not need for a rush.

Fred had been waiting for years to find out whether his burning feelings for you were reciprocated, constantly suppressing them in fear of scaring you away and losing you. And now that he knew your heart belonged to him like his did to you, all the stars above couldn't contain his untamed happiness, pure and hopeful.

Surely he could wait a little more for you to grow comfortable with your own emotions.

Fred tightened his hold around you and pecked your cheek tenderly, the subtle touch sending a shock throughout your body and subsiding your need for sleep.

"That's alright," he whispered. "Rest now."

@self-ship-love @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hufflexpuff @neovannii

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