#like she's giving birth to both black and orange babies

[savageboar]

i think my platies are mickey mouses mixed with some kind of black morph because they have darker scales than most mickeys i see and all the surviving fry from the second "litter" are black.

[sealrock]

10. stable

cw: depiction of trans pregnancy word count: 983 words

"Do you think we can give this baby a stable life?"

Andromache's question filtered back into Achille's mind, though it came back nearly four moons too late now that he was holding said baby in his arms.

While it was easy not to think about before her arrival, Achille couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety settle in his heart as he watched Paris, the oddly masculine name her parents bestowed her, slumbered against his shirt. He found himself gently stroking her slick black hair, and he was suddenly reminded of the day his younger brother was born. Protected by soft swaddling clothes, a gift from Hector's mother, Paris looked like his brother, and most newborn babies—wrinkly, pale, and a bit ugly.

A soft orange glow filled the room from the open window, the fresh air trickling inside as the summer sun took its leave behind the treeline. Achille's ears picked up the call of cicadas, crickets, and frogs as they announced dusk's arrival in the forest beyond. A few hours had passed since Paris came into the world, screeching to anyone who would listen, but Achille felt like time hadn't moved since. He forgot how long he sat in this chair, he couldn't feel anything except the delicate weight of an infant—his loved ones' infant—in his arms. She had a startling amount of strength as her hand gripped his thumb, her fingers too stubby to reach the other side.

On the bed lay Hector, drained and a little wan, sound asleep and bundled in blankets, his long hair unbound. Despite the mugginess of the day, Hector was shivering like he had been in a snowstorm. Andromache, high off of pure adrenaline for the last seventy-two hours, crashed unsurprisingly after the delivery, her upper body halfway on the bed while she sat seated on Hector's left side, their hands intertwined. Achille wasn't allowed inside the birthing room, not that he wanted to be in there, the screams of pain and cries of agony were enough to keep him outside the house entirely. He did his best to offer Andromache some support, the girl unable to do much besides pace around and pull at her hair.

He wasn't even the father, yet Achille couldn't sleep a wink. When it was all said and done, Andromache practically twisted his arm to accept holding her daughter, a word she said with shaky pride. Yes, this was her daughter, and Achille didn't want to hurt her. His hands only knew how to kill, not to love. He wasn't suited to offer a child a life of stability, and if he was being honest, neither were Andromache or Hector. They were all young, much too young, and dealing with their own personal emotional baggage, to take on such a responsibility.

"Do you want an honest answer or a hopeful lie?"

Achille looked on from his corner of the candle-lit living room, situated away from Hector on the couch, watching as Andromache gingerly rested her head on their partner's lap, her ear pressed against his growing belly. With her hair petted by Hector, Andromache's back was against the couch cushions, her legs dangling off the side and crossed at the ankles. Her glittering eyes, full of wonderment in the likes Achille had never seen up until then, narrowed at his response as she regarded him upside-down. Hector could only chuckle, his eyes hooded by dark bangs.

"I think everything will be fine."

"How can you be so sure?"

Hector lifted his gaze to look at Achille, his expression calm and voice gentle:

"Because I have two bodyguards who wouldn't dare let anything go wrong."

Achille could feel the blush creep up his neck as he gave a crooked smile, "Is that all I am to you, hired muscle?"

"You know my meaning," Hector glanced down to Andromache before looking away, "You're more than that to me, both of you. We'll be alright because your love will extend to this child. They'll know nothing but love, protection, and guidance from all of us."

Achille shrugged, "I don't think I'm cut out for that."

"Don't be so modest," it was Andromache's turn to speak up, "You're just as much a parent to this child as we are."

Achille would never have children, the torturous days of his younger years rendering that impossible, but Andromache's words stuck to him since then.

Paris wriggled in his arms, little odd squeaks coming from her mouth as Achille brought himself back to the present. Achille froze, not knowing what to do as the noises grew louder. He also remembers this from his younger brother, how annoyed he felt at the sound of a crying infant.

"Put him back," was all the young boy said to the adults in the room.

His father could only laugh at the bluntness of his son's words. Achille could remember his father ruffling his hair in affection before the wailing monstrosity of a baby could be taken from his tiny arms.

"Achille?"

Achille jerked up from his seat, eyes landing on Hector and Andromache, both now wide awake despite only getting a few hours of sleep. Paris continued to cry as he awkwardly passed her along into her father's waiting arms. Hector looked like shite, but he beamed at the sight of his newborn, cooing and shushing her from his place in bed.

Andromache, equally haggard, gave a soft smile before stretching her legs. She led a dumbfounded Achille out of the room to give Hector some privacy, softly closing the door behind them as they stood in the hallway.

"You asked me this a while ago," Achille found his voice, his throat restricted with an odd emotion, "You asked if we could give Paris a stable life. Could we?"

Andromache scrubbed at her face as she considered his words. To that, she replied:

"Like Hector said, we'll be fine."

[roseofdarknessblog]

Precious little moments (Levi Ackerman x Reader)

Word count: 1 430

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes

Summary: Dad Levi has been on my mind a lot lately so... 😅

Precious little moments

„So, what do you think about today? Was it worth all the trouble? All the crying while getting ready?“ you asked Levi, who was holding your hand while you walked through a pumpkin patch in the direction of your car. Your newborn daughter was contently sleeping in the baby carrier on her father's chest, snuggled up under his coat.

„It was nice, I have to admit,“ Levi said and squeezed your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles.

Having a baby was still something new to both of you. No books or antenatal classes could prepare you for everything parenthood was about. Even after four weeks since your daughter was born, both you and Levi were still learning.

„I was so excited for this. Experiencing the holiday season with her for the very first time.“

Levi chuckled quietly, making your heart melt when he looked down at his daughter and kissed the top of her head – it was covered in silky black hair just like his. She was wearing a cute orange bow with a little pumpkin in the middle. „She came just in time for her mother's favorite spooky season,“ he said and looked at you with so much love in his pale grayish-blue eyes.

„I can't wait to put her in that pumpkin onesie Hange brought her yesterday. She's going to be so cute.“

Your best friend shared your love for the Halloween season. Hange's house turned into a spooky kingdom every single year and you loved helping them with decorating and setting everything up for Halloween night. However, this year everything was much different. When Hange started decorating like their life depended on it, you were just about to give birth. After that, your hands were full every second of the day because being a new mom was more challenging than you expected.

But you had no reason to panic or feel overwhelmed. Not when Levi was by your side and helped you with every single thing. He even took over decorating your own house a little because he knew that you would be sad if you missed your favorite season.

„To be honest, I was looking forward to days like this one.“

A smile made its way to your lips. „Really?“ you asked Levi.

You really had a beautiful afternoon together as a family. The weather was still fairly nice, chilly just enough to give these last few October days the right atmosphere. It was the perfect opportunity to get out of the house and enjoy one of the most beautiful aspects of the autumn season.

Going to a pumpkin patch was yours and Levi's little tradition. Even if life got busy, you found time for this activity every single year. But this time it was way more special thanks to your baby, who Levi fell in love with the moment he saw her. Just a few hours after birth, she was already her father's precious little girl.

„It was nice while it was only the two of us, but having her here just makes everything... I don't know, more enjoyable?“ He shrugged and put his free arm around his daughter protectively.

„I love seeing you as a father. It suits you,“ you said happily and leaned over to kiss his cheek lovingly.

The pumpkin patch was full of people just like you. Everybody was enjoying the bright autumn sun and the overall atmosphere. Kids were running and playing around, while their parents were watching, picking out pumpkins, or enjoying a nice fall snack or drink.

The calmness which could be felt in the air all around, made you feel so at ease with life as it was right at that moment. You felt so grateful for having the opportunity to spend such a beautiful time with your own little family.

„She'll be running around here next year just like that kid over there,“ Levi said after a moment, looking at a young family nearby. Their little boy seemed to be around a year old and he was already walking nicely on his own.

„And you'll be right behind her to make sure she's not going to hurt herself,“ you said jokingly and nudged his side playfully.

„Tch, of course I will. Kids are a disaster when they start walking. Always falling and getting dirty.“

You laughed and took one last look over the festive pumpkin patch before you headed to the car. It was time to head home since Levi's mom was coming over for dinner. And although Kuchel told you not to worry about the food, you wanted to cook something delicious for her. She's been a huge help since you and Levi became parents. It seemed that being a grandmother was all she was ever missing from her life.

„What should I cook for your mom?“ you asked Levi and helped him get the baby out of the carrier.

She cried a little when she suddenly didn't feel her father's warmth but calmed down as soon as Levi held her in his arms again, rocking her to sleep before putting her into the car seat. Little moments like this made you sure that giving Levi a baby was the best thing you could have ever done. He has been a natural since day one. Somehow, he always knew what your little angel needed and was able to calm her down within seconds.

„Nothing, she wants to cook for us tonight,“ Levi said and kissed your daughter's chubby little cheek. She was watching him from the car seat, still holding one of his fingers with her little hand. „Now, you have to let go, angel. Otherwise, I can't drive us home,“ he said to the baby, looking at her tenderly.

„Go sit in the back with her, I'll drive,“ you said after a moment and kissed both him and your daughter.

„We're going to spoil her like this.“

„Yeah, with love and care. How horrible,“ you laughed.

Levi smirked over your comment and got into the back seat next to your daughter, who thanks to that stayed quiet the entire ride home. And to be honest, you were enjoying your time behind the wheel. The sun was slowly setting, painting the sky with the most beautiful shades of gold and orange. From both sides, the road was guarded by tall trees in colors such as green, yellow, orange, red, and brown. They truly looked like from a perfect autumn fairytale. It was almost a shame when you finally arrived home.

The front porch of your house was decorated nicely every single year. Although Levi hated carving pumpkins, he couldn't say no to you and your cute pleading smile. This year he carved eight pumpkins by himself and hung up the witch with her flying broom over the stairs. He also put out the two little light-up ghost statues you got last year in a big sale after Halloween was over.

Making you happy was one of Levi's top priorities so he usually went along with every crazy idea you had. Sometimes with a little lecturing but still.

„This was very nice. Our first little trip as a family,“ you sighed contently when you parked the car. „We didn't go far but that doesn't matter. It was still very much needed in my opinion.“ When Levi didn't say anything, you turned around to look at him.

He was so focused on your daughter that he didn't even notice you talking to him. His eyes were lingering over her sleeping face, his thumb still in a firm grip of her tiny hand. At that moment you wondered if Levi ever looked this calm and in love before. Becoming a father gave him new confidence and made him softer in the best way possible. To others, he was the same stoic person as before. But when he was with you and your daughter, he truly seemed like a brand new man.

„Darling...“ you said after another moment, trying to gain his attention. „You okay?“

He nodded without saying a word, leaning down and kissing the top of the baby's head. Only then he looked at you, a truly calm and relaxed expression on his handsome face.

„She's really all we needed to make our lives even better,“ he said after a while and reached for your hand. „Thank you.“

You took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly, trying to keep your emotions in check. This truly was all you ever wanted. Giving yourself and Levi a life full of happiness and precious little moments like this one.

[ranger-ribbons]

Ranger Series Operators Headcanons

Ziggy isn't an orphan, he has a father. His father runs another cartel and has been quietly running it underground so far that not even the other cartels have heard more than whispers of.

Dillon and Tenaya's birth names are Daniel and Genevieve

Tenaya's implants are more complete than Dillon’s so once Venjix is defeated, she remembers everything. Dillon's memories come back slowly

Summer, Scott, and Flynn are ride-or-die friends. They'd hide bodies for each other if necessary and can communicate without speaking if necessary

Dillon thinks he stayed in Corinth for Summer, under the impression that she was the one who hooked that first fight into the satellite for Dillon’s borrowed car. Ziggy, forever the king of playing himself down, doesn't correct Dillon, he's just happy Dillon stayed.

None of the Series Operator Rangers are straight. Scott, Flynn, and Summer are all bisexual, Dillon is unlabeled and likes anyone (demisexual if he vibed with labels), Ziggy is gay (or bisexual leaning towards men), and Gem and Gemma are queer. Doctor K is the only one who's straight

If he knew to go looking, Dillon would find his parents' graves in the Wastes. They died protecting their children from Grinders, they were traveling to Corinth. Dillon's car belonged to his father

Gem and Gemma have a form of telepathy left over from the experiments done on them at Alphabet Soup, it's why they can finish each other's sentences

Ziggy has had a crush on Scott, Flynn, Dillon, and Gem, and a platonic one on Summer. He can't help it! They're badasses and Ziggy’s got a thing for people who could obviously kick his ass

Flynn is the oldest of the core Rangers at 25, Scott is 24, Dillon and Summer are both 21, Summer being a few months younger, and Ziggy is 18. Gem and Gemma are in their late 20s, Doctor K is 19

Dillon didn't just click with Ziggy, he actually only tolerated his Wastes partner for the few weeks they were in the Wastes together. But, somehow Ziggy grew on him

Ziggy is Dillon’s best friend, baby brother, and maybe more rolled up into one. Dillon adores Ziggy, but won't let it show. Ziggy, of course, knows this and adores Dillon right back

Scott, Summer, Flynn, Dillon, and Ziggy are all in what amounts to a Queer Platonic Relationship. They seek each other out automatically at this point. If so inclined, that relationship could turn romantic real quick

Scott gives doberman vibes, Summer gives white cat vibes, Flynn gives husky vibes, Dillon gives black cat vibes, Ziggy gives orange cat vibes

Ziggy was once a gymnast, which is the only reason he was able to fight as well as he did at first

The Rangers spar together even after Venjix is defeated

Dillon doesn't like Scott, but he does respect and love him

They're all fucking idiots at best, but Scott can and will chain himself to any of the Rangers if they try to run away.

All the Rangers have some form of abandonment issues. The least of which is Flynn, who has issues regarding his mother's death, the most of which is Ziggy, who was abandoned at the orphanage at age five

The Rangers are always in a rainbow of shipping, but none is more obvious than the RPM Rangers. You can ship anyone with anyone (except Gem/Gemma of course)

The hit on Ziggy’s head never went away, and he never expected it to. He was in the mob from age 10 to age 17, he knows better than to expect kindness from people who would kill him in a heartbeat

On that subject, Ziggy doesn't leave the garage unless he has another person (Dillon) with him

Dillon and Tenaya don't go back to their original names, but they do take their original surname of Sevenson (which is where Venjix got the Seven from)

All the Rangers have PTSD and nightmares. They sneak into each other's beds or have puppy piles on the floor. Usually, you'll see specific patterns with sleeping arrangements. For example, Ziggy hasn't slept in his own bed since the Venjix virus started taking over Dillon, but he rarely ended the night in his own bed even before that

Flynn is the fan-favorite Ranger, but it's a close tie with Dillon and Scott

[awesomerextyphoon]

In From the Cold

Summary: Bucky comes home with little friend he found on a cold winter night. 

Pairing: Bucky x Black Female Reader 

Rating: 16/Teen

Word Count 1.2K

A/N: Some of the words are in Igbo with translation. Thanks to @mrsmischief209​ for the beta!

Back to Masterlist

“I hope Bucky gets back soon. The food’s getting cold,” your worried eyes spied the clock as thick flurries of snow blanketed the ground. 

“Don’t worry Mommy!” your daughter, Obioma, reassured you from the dinner table, “Daddy will be back soon! We aren’t being chased by bad men anymore!” 

“I know, I know Oma Nwam (dear),” you murmured as you kissed your daughter’s forehead, “It’s just that I worry.” 

And who could blame you? 

Ever since you met James three years ago, people have been after you. 

It started when you wanted to go to Trader Joe’s for movie snacks. You wanted to reward yourself for a grueling week of work and for picking up your co-workers slack again. The bright red of the store sign graced your skin when you heard a blast. 

The vestiges of HYDRA was looking for their Winter Soldier and they were done being tactful. 

Everything was a flurry of reds, oranges, yellows, and black as people ran for shelter. You almost vomited when you saw a man get sliced in half by falling debris. 

You plummeted to the ground after get the wind knocked out of you by the frantic crowd of panicked civilians. Closing your eyes in defeat, you waited for Death’s sweet embrace. But it never came. Instead, strong arms carried you to safety. 

You were saved by an angel who insists on being called otherwise. Though he did accept your offer to bum off your couch for a few days. 

Soon you realized that the Adonis who saved you was the one and only Bucky Barnes. You giggled at his bashful expression when you called him out on it. Here’s a man who battled against Captain America on equal footing, but couldn’t look you in the eye at a small question. 

It didn’t take long for the two of you to become friends in between running from HYDRA, Secret US Government Organizations, and assholes who wanted his vibranium arm. 

–––––

The first kiss came as an accident. 

You were watching Lily & Stitch and Bucky was having a moment connecting to Stitch and you to Lilo. 

Bucky turned to you and wondered,“Do you think…I could change? Become a better person?”

You frowned at the tears welling up in his eyes. Here was a man who was nearly abandoned as POW experiment by his nation in during WW2 before being saved by his friend. A man who then was mind raped for nearly TWENTY YEARS until those fucking dobbers got their ‘fist’. A man who was trapped in his own mind for decades committing unspeakable crimes against humanity and the planet for the powers who wanted to ‘guide the people’. A man who never got to say goodbye to his loved ones robbed of nearly every chance to find peace. 

A man who despite everything he’s been through, he still wants do good and protect others. 

“Bucky, you are so much more than what HYDRA made you. You’re my angel,” you declared as you went in to kiss him on the cheek. 

––––

It took about two months of Sam and Nat ribbing both of you for being idiots to start dating. Barely two dates in and Steve caught you making out in the car like a couple of horny teenagers. 

Sam got a picture of it and sent it to Natasha. 

You gave birth to Obioma eight months later. 

A few months after giving birth to your beautiful baby girl, the US Gov’t finally backed off when Nat threatened to dump info on several redacted projects to the public. 

For the first time in nearly a century, Bucky was at peace. 

Then your daughter started walking at five months and talking at seven. Plus she crushed a hard plastic toy in her chubby little hands which caused your anxiety to spike for a bout two seconds before remembering Nat strong-armed the US Gov’t into getting off your backs.

––––

“Mommy! Mommy!” Obioma exclaimed, running to the front door, “Daddy’s home!” 

“Hello sunshine!”, Bucky picked up his adorable daughter,” How was your day?” 

“I went to Aunty Nat’s place for playtime and to make cookies! Then I went to Uncle Bruce for studying and met his cousin Jennifer!” 

“You met his cousin Jennifer? What was she like?”

“She’s really nice and fun! Plus, she taught me how to get out of taking a quiz!” Obioma jumped out her Nnam’s (dad’s) embrace bouncing up and down with unrestrained glee. 

“What did she say?” 

“She said to get Auntie Nat-“ 

“She said to get Nat to talk to Bruce in a closet.” You interrupted not wanting a repeat of this afternoon. You had a quick sidebar with cousin Jen. 

“Huh.” 

“Hey Daddy, what’s in your jacket?” Obioma stopped jumping long enough to notice the small lump near the top Bucky’s jacket. 

“Well sunshine,” Bucky knelt in front of the toddler,”This little one,” He slowly unzipped his jacket,”was lost and decided to give our family a chance.” 

Bucky unfurled his large hands to reveal,”Is that a snowball, Daddy?” 

“No Oma,” you giggled,”It’s a kitten.” 

You didn’t know what to make of the next few minutes. Your little Oma backed away from Bucky, afraid of hurting the kitten. 

No doubt she’s heard some of the slander peddled by sad, pathetic mothers with way too much time on their hands. 

She took on step out to your husband and the pure white ball of fur terrified of hurting the little ball of fur. 

“It’s okay, Sunshine,”Bucky coaxed with an outstretched hand,”Come and say Hello.” 

Obioma carefully stretched out her chubby little hand to pet the tiny kitty. 

Her eyes widened with joy when the tiny feline crept into her hands. You were able to sneak in a pic for Nat.

“Where did you find her James?”

Bucky pulled the kitten and his Sunshine into his arms,“I was walking home when a heard a ruckus a few blocks away. Turns out some punks ganged up on this little one.” 

“Oh no! Poor Kitty!” Obioma exclaimed with tears threatening to fall from her eyes. 

“I know, sunshine,”Bucky mumbled into her forehead wiping away her tears, “But this little one was so brave! She refused to back down, but she needed a little help. So I walked up to them and they ran off. Then she ran up to my shoulder like a tree, or a mountain.”

“A mountain?” 

“Yes, Sunshine. Poor little kitty was scared. Probably the first time anyone’s helped her.”

“Can she stay with us, Daddy?” 

Bucky flashed you his ‘playful DILF smile’, “I dunno. It’s gonna be a lot of responsibility taking care of her.”

“Pwlease!” Your daughter flashed the Puppy Dog Eyes and Pout guaranteeing her victory. Both of you have a hard time saying no to her as it is. 

“Alright, Oma,” Bucky passed your daughter to you awaiting arms,”What do you want to call our travel little kitty?” 

“Um, Auntie Nat talked about the Awlps at story time. Mommy, what was the word she used?” 

“Alpine, Nwam.” 

“Alpine!” 

“Alpine it is!” Bucky declared before rubbing his nose against Obioma’s.

“Well, now that we have welcomed our newest member to the family, let’s go eat. The food’s getting cold.” 

“Yay!” Obioma ran to the dining room. 

–––

“My kind angel saved a kitty this evening. That deserves a reward,”You whispered leaning to kiss Bucky only for you to jerk your head , “But, you didn’t call and we were so worried.” 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” 

“I know, I know. I wonder how I’ll reward you?” 

Bucky chuckled and kissed your neck,”I’ll think of something.” 

[miffysrambles]

ShadowRabbit Family Fic

(CW: Parenthood of canon characters!!!)

(Decided to post this one bc i love how i wrote Wukong in this tbhhh🫠)

(This is an introduction to their daughter Chao-Xing! I haven’t drawn her yet but i have that planned in the future!)

Soft giggles and coos could be heard from the living room as Macaque heated a pink baby bottle in the microwave.

His six ears twitched from every grunt and whine his little monster made as she spent time with her “favorite uncles”.

Macaque was used to being alert at all times, especially during Li’s pregnancy and after the birth of his daughter.

Uncle MK and Uncle Wukong were on the floor playing with the black and white speckled monkey-rabbit hybrid demon, the infant was currently trying to grab the rattle the Monkey King was gently shaking above her tiny hands.

“Aww she’s so cute, look at her little monkey tail go! And her big ol’ rabbit ears are adorable!” MK remarked as Chao-Xing sat in her baby swing, pathetically trying to grab the toy being shaken above her.

Wukong chuckled as he shook the rattle in his tail, “Give her a few months and she’ll be climbing up walls and over furniture in no time. Unless she takes after her dad and is a late bloomer.” He whispered the last part to his student as the pair giggled like school girls.

A stuffed rabbit toy suddenly hit the orange-furred simian in the back of the head, earning a loud ‘ow’ from him as he rubbed the back of his head.

His rival, formal enemy walked into the room with the bottle in his hand as he gently picked up his daughter from her swing like she was made of glass, “I heard that.”

“Of course you did.” Wukong sarcastically replied, Mk comically upset that Macaque picked up Chao-Xing away from them.

Macaque held his daughter in his arms as he sat down on the couch and began feeding her the bottle, sighing from exhaustion as he shut his eyes.

Wukong snickered as he joked,

“Wow, all those fights I’ve seen you power through and a newborn baby beats you down bud?”

Macaque groaned in response while rubbing his temple with his free hand, “Shut it Wukong, I didn’t get any sleep last night…”

“Aye atta girl Chao-Xing, already annoying your dad! The student is becoming the master already, they grow up so fast…” Wukong teased his sort-of friend by wiping a fake tear from his eye.

Macaque growled in response, “My daughter is not your student Wukong.”

The orange monkey chuckled, “Yeah yeah, I was just kidding. I know she’ll be trained under you and Li when she’s ready.”

MK starts to look around the room after hearing the name of his close friend, “Speaking of that, where is Li?”

Macaque's ears perked up at the question of his wife’s whereabouts while still covering his face with his hand, “She’s resting kid, the doctor said for her to try not to move for the next few days.”

It had only been a couple of days since their bundle of fur was born, and though the couple were both more exhausted beyond belief they could not be happier.

Macaque’s quick rest was interrupted when he felt his little girl’s black monkey tail wrap around his forearm as he fed her the bottle.

Macaque's tired expression was replaced with a soft grin, “Hello to you too princess.” He kissed her forehead as soft grunts escaped from her mouth as she fed on her bottle.

“Awww, so friggen’ adorable! I’m gonna die of cuteness!”

Mk silently yelled so as not to disturb the baby’s feeding time.

“Aye, no dying in front of the baby.”

Wukong jokes, earning a chuckle from his fellow monkey.

A sly smile spreads across the Monkey King’s face as he looks over to Macaque, “I heard that, that was a chuckle.”

“Yeah yeah, don’t get used to it.” Macaque tried to hide his smile by looking down at his daughter but ultimately failed.

“Going soft on us Macaque? First your wife, now your kid? You have a lot of training to catch up on.” Wukong chuckled more as he saw him smiling down at Chao-Xing.

“Hah, you wish Wukong. As soon as she's old enough to eat solids, I’m going right back to training and kicking your ass.” The black simian grinned at the Monkey King.

Chao-Xing finished the last of what was in her bottle, the new father picked her up and started patting her back to burp her as he laid a dish towel on his shoulder.

Wukong stretched as he got off the living room floor, grabbing MK by the arm and pulling him up as well.

“Well, me and the kid better get going, The others are probably wondering where the hell we are right now. Good luck bud, you’re gonna need it!” He laughed at his rival's angry reaction to the nickname as he pulled MK into a golden portal on the floor, the noodle boy being used to this did not bat an eye.

“Bye Chao-Xing, later Macaque!” MK waved as they disappeared into the golden pool below, disappearing after a few seconds.

“Bye kiddo,” Macaque waved to him with his free arm while holding his daughter in the other, the infant making happy babbles as she saw her uncles “disappear”.

Macaque chuckled as the pair disappeared into his living room floor, shaking his head from their extravagant exit.

‘Same old Wukong’ he thought to himself.

His thoughts were interrupted by Chao-Xing waving her little arms and babbling to the hallway leading to his and Li’s bedroom.

His wife walked out groggily, making his ears perk up as he knew the sound of her footsteps by heart.

“Bunny, the doctor said not to get up as much as possible.” He said with a hint of concern, looking at her from the couch.

Li groaned as she sat down next to him and laid down on his shoulder, “I know Mac, I’m just lonely in there.”

He smiled down at her as lifted her chin up with his fingers and kissed her, “How about if you promise to relax and lay down, you hang out here with us then?”

He handed their daughter to her as the infant happily babbled for her mama.

Li smiled as she kissed Chao-Xing’s forehead, the monkey-rabbit giggled more from her kisses.

“Deal. That sounds like a plan.” Li smiled as he got up and put the baby in her swing so he could cuddle with Li on the couch.

Macaque turned on the tv for them as their daughter slept in her swing, her tiny snores making him chuckle.

‘She snores just like her mom’ He thought to himself as he held his wife in his arms, he always noticed these little things about his family and took note of them.

A few minutes into the movie they were watching, Li looked up to him as her eyebrow raised.

“By the way, I heard MK and Wukong earlier. Did they stop by?”

Macaque perked up as he nodded, “Hm? Oh yeah, they did.”

Li smiled as she softly laughed, “So they’re calling themselves her ‘Favorite Uncles’ now?”

He chuckled back as he nodded, “Yep, those two think so at least. Why ruin that for them?”

Li smiled warmly as she looked down at her baby girl waking up and cooing softly to her mother in her swing, “I’m just glad they’re so excited to be in her life. And that goes for the rest of them too, Teng and Pigsy. Sandy and Mei. Feng, and Xin-Yi.”

Macaque chuckled gently at her words as he rubbed Li’s cheek, “She’s got a big family to support her, more than what we got. She’s a damn lucky kid.”

His wife smiled as she laid on his shoulder, groaning softly from the sore feeling in her torso when she situated herself.

“You ok sweetheart?” He asked her as he rubbed her shoulder in comfort.

Li smiled as she looked at her daughter then back at him, “More than ok.”

[nightsidewrestling]

D.U.D.E Part 19 - Treat Her Right (Set in 2021)

Note: This is set in a universe where Men VS Women / Intergender matches can happen.

Chapter 1: here Chapter 2: here Chapter 3: here Chapter 4: here Chapter 5: here Chapter 6: here Chapter 7: here Chapter 8: here Chapter 9: here Chapter 10: here Chapter 11: here Chapter 12: here Chapter 13: here Chapter 14: here Chapter 15: here Chapter 16: here Chapter 17: here Chapter 18: here

Tags: @piratewithvigor @tantamount-treason @thedollmaker16 @janetreader

Around 2000 Words. 18+ in places (those chapters will be marked as 'Mature / sexual content' just to be safe). Please inform me if you wish to be tagged or untagged from posts. If the text is in italics and orange it's Kirby's inner monologue. If the text is coloured but not in italics, it's either dialogue or a P.O.V change (P.O.V changes will be in bold and translated dialogue will appear in square [ ] brackets), Key below. Quick note on Geia's text colour: Yes I do know that as Greed she should be in yellow but I decided to colour the men's dialogue yellow so Geia was changed to be pink like the other women in the story outside of the main 8.

The Main 8: Damo - Bio. Vi - Bio. Billie - Bio. Geia - Bio. Kirby - Bio. Honey - Bio. Eli - Bio. Sara - Bio.

Kirby's P.O.V:

Eddie treats Kirby to everything she wants for the six weeks after she gives birth, date nights at every restaurant he can find Within Yonkers, massages, full days spent shopping for stuff, both things for Kirby and the twins. Slowly getting Kirby and the twins used to longer car rides. Gathering everything they need for the twins and themselves and doing the long, ten hour, drive down to Florida.

Ethan Page is the first person to greet them at the Airbnb the next morning, Friday 2nd September 2021.

"Oh hi, I'm guessing you heard the news." Kirby chuckles when she answers the door, still in just an oversized shirt, boxer shorts and her black yoga pants she slept in.

"I was told you had the babies." Page beams.

"Ethan, meet Emyr and Ethan."

Page's eyes light up, "You did not."

"yeah, we named him Ethan, I kept thinking about how long you've known Eddie, and how much you and Eddie have impacted each other's careers."

"Oh my God," Page hugs Kirby tightly, "you're so sweet."

"Don't squeeze me, Ethan, I had a bad night last night."

"Oh no, everything okay?"

"Yeah, Eddie decide that we would relax with a couple drinks… and I only had one beer I felt off. I think my body's rejecting anything bad for the twins."

"Maybe, Renee did say that you're breastfeeding." Page shrugs.

"Wifey, what's goin' on?" Eddie asks, walking up behind Kirby in just a tank top and boxers.

"I'm introducing Ethan to Ethan." She smiles softly, feeling Eddie wrap his arms around her waist.

"Emyr has my eyes, Ethan has his beautiful mother's eyes." Eddie murmurs.

"Oh, so they aren't identical… they look almost identical."

"Small differences," Kirby whispers, "but I can tell my boys apart"

"How?" Page asks quietly.

"Emyr has green eyes and faint freckles on his face and shoulders. Ethan has blue eyes, no freckles but he does have… oh, what's it called, a port-wine stain? Basically a birthmark covering his right knee and part of his right thigh."

"My sons, my adorable baby boys." Eddie kisses both of the twins' heads.

Emyr yawns and opens his eyes, bright green like Eddie's. Emyr takes more after his father, slightly more tanned skin and harsher features, seemingly only taking his mother's freckles, his hair a darker shade of blond than his brother. Eddie picks his eldest son up, letting 'All Ego' see the similarities between him and his first son.

"Wait here, Mox got us stuff, it makes the boys look a lot more like Eddie." Kirby whispers to Page, heading to grab a box from the bedroom.

She returns to the nursery with a small box, 'Emyr' is written on the top in Renee's handwriting, she opens it and places the box in the cot, taking Emyr from Eddie to change his diaper and dress him. A black and yellow baby grow, a small graphic t-shirt with Tupac on it, a faux rosary with a pacifier instead of a cross, baby-sixed timberlands and a baby-sized black, Yankees cap.

Page starts giggling when Kirby hands Emyr back to Eddie, she heads off to get the other box as 'All Ego' pulls out his phone, dressing their younger son in an almost identical outfit, the only difference is the t-shirt, a baby version of Kirby's Ice Cube shirt. Eddie holds both of his sons up and Page takes a photo.

Ethan opens his eyes when Page holds him, showing off the bright blue eyes he's inherited from his mother, his features are softer than Emyr and Eddie's, paler skin, a softer jawline, a thicker bottom lip and much 'kinder' looking brow-line. As Kirby described he has no freckles or beauty marks. His skin is more porcelain in colour than his brother's sun-kissed tone.

"So, how's it feel to meet a baby named after you?" Kirby asks as she takes baby Ethan back into her arms.

"It's amazing, he's adorable. His brother's also adorable." Page smiles softly, clearly trying not to cry.

"Eddie still needs to think of who their godfathers will be. I know that Renee will be their godmother, and Ruthie can't be because she's their grandma. If she weren't related to them though, she would for sure be a godparent. I wouldn't have gotten through the pregnancy without her."

"How are you handling being a mother? I heard someone say you were told you couldn't have kids."

"I view my boys as miracles, mainly because I was under the belief I couldn't get pregnant, let alone pregnant with twins," She chuckles when Eddie hands Emyr to her, "What're you doing, Pá [dad]?"

"Gettin' a can of Red Bull from the fridge, mama," He kisses her gently, "I love you," he runs his fingers over the scar on her cheek, "my badass beautiful wifey."

"You owe me a coffee, Jefe [boss]."

"Jefe, you callin' me 'Jefe' now, Ma?" Eddie chuckles.

"Head of the household, ain't ya, big boss, El Jefe [the boss]?"

Eddie nods, grabbing a can of Red Bull from the fridge and sitting next to page on the couch, "Well, Ma, I may be the head of the household. But you, oh brotha, you are way more powerful than me."

"Yeah, I've seen clips from C.R.C, you've lifted guys who are five-hundred pounds plus." Page adds.

"That's because it's part of my job." Kirby shrugs.

"Lifting five-hundred pound men, Ma are ya hearin' yourself? 'I's part of my job'? To lift five-hundred pound men?" Eddie raises an eyebrow at his ivory-skinned wife.

"Yes, during my time in C.R.C it was a part of my job. Eddie, during your time with C.Z.W it was your job to do death-matches." Kirby raises an eyebrow back at her tanned husband.

"She's got you there, Eddie." Page mutters.

"You stay outta this, this is between me and her." Eddie grumbles.

"Oh, did I touch a nerve, Edward? Did I touch a nerve there?" Kirby smirks.

"Cierra la boca [Shut your mouth]." Eddie growls.

"Hazme [make me]." She growls in return.

"Ven auqí [come here], Mami." Eddie gets up, going over to Kirby, lifting her chin roughly and growling as he kisses her.

"Te amo [I love you], Papi." She whispers against his lips.

"Page, you may wanna leave… now."

'All Ego' gets up, leaving quickly. Eddie takes the twins, placing them in the cot before hoisting Kirby over his shoulder, taking her to the bed and making out with her.

"You little slut." Eddie growls against her lips, climbing over her.

Kirby flips their position and straddles his lap, "I'm only a slut for you, Papi."

"Damn right, ya only mine, you wanna fuck your Papi, Ma?"

"So soon after havin' twins, only if you use protection, Papi."

Eddie smirks, "We could go dry, or I could get off watchin' you get off." He suggests.

"Mutual masturbation or dry humping? I'd really prefer if you-"

Kirby goes silent when she hears the front door open, both her and Eddie sharing a worried look.

"Eddie?" Moxley's voice echoes through the house, "Kirby? You have guests… He Emyr, hey Ethan, how're my nephews doing?"

"So close to lettin' you tear my ass in two, but no, we have fuckin' visitors." Kirby grumbles.

Eddie's eyes light up, "Fuck them, you've never let me do that before."

"Eddie, no… Edward, we have guests."

"Fuck." Eddie grumbles.

Kirby and Eddie's shared sour mood is quickly dropped when they see their guests.

"Jack!" Eddie grins, letting out a breathless chuckle.

"Eddie!" Marciano chuckles, pulling Eddie into a tight hug.

Kirby looks from her former commentary partner to the other guests, Renee, carrying her and Jon's daughter Nora, and three others. One a rather tall, tanned man with waist length black hair in a long braid, wearing one of the old C.R.C merch shirts and jeans. Ashkii Tsinajinnie. The second, a short Japanese woman, a pink shirt with 'Sakura Power' written on the front and pink gym shorts on, matching her half-pink, half-black hair. Yoshi Nakagawa. The third and final guest from Kirby's past is an average height, around five-foot-seven, black man, nearly 300 pounds of both fat and muscle, his head shaved, wearing black sweatpants and one of Kirby's merch t-shirts from before she was gluttony.

"Mike! Mikey?!" Kirby starts tearing up.

"Kirby… Princess? Lawd a massi!" Mike pushes past Ash and Yoshi, taking Kirby's face in his hands, "Oh, Princess, breathe easy, you an Empress now, baby gal." His Jamaican accent brings back a flood of memories from his and Kirby's shared past.

"Mikey, I missed ya, ya dope." She whispers, taking a deep breath.

Mike holds Kirby close to him, kissing her cheek and rocking her to keep her calm, "Oh, mis sistren, look at you, an Auntie, not jus' an Auntie but a Mammy now."

"Eddie, what's wrong?" Jack whispers.

"You're Mike" Eddie asks, completely astonished, "You're the guy she's cried over? You…" Eddie's astonishment turns into anger, "You kicked my wife outta your home?!"

Jack and Mox rush to hold Eddie back. Kirby pulls away from Mike and rushes to Eddie, holding his face, witnessing the rage in his eyes.

"Eddie, calm." Kirby whispers, her jaw dropping when Eddie pushes her aside.

"No, not wit' him. You," Eddie points at Mike, "you helped Damien get in her head, you knew she didn't want to be gluttony, if her parents weren't around she would have been homeless, you could have helped her but you didn't! I understand now why ya ring name is 'Monster', because you are one!" Eddie yells, getting up close with Mike

"Eddie, don't." Kirby rushes up to the side of both men, trying to push them apart.

Mike pushes Kirby away, by her face, knocking her to the floor, "How the fuck do ya know about my past, huh? She been tellin' you tings she ain't got no right to talk on."

Mike storms out, taking Ash and Yoshi with him. Kirby storms off in the opposite direction, leaving through the back door, hearing Eddie's footsteps behind her as she walks, going down the back alley between two rows of houses.

"Ma, wait!" Eddie hollers.

"Go fuck yourself, Kingston!" Kirby yells as she continues walking.

"Babe, just give me a chance."

"To do what? To ruin more of my chances at ever gettin' a friend back?"

"If he did that shit to you, was he ever a friend?"

Kirby stops walking, standing completely still as she thinks about it. Eddie's right, Mike practically handed me to Damien. he willingly let me get brainwashed by that tyrant.

"Doll?" Eddie whispers as he walks up behind her.

"Fuck, Eddie, I'm sorry… you're right, he fucked me over, he let me go."

Eddie wraps his arms around Kirby, checking if she's been hurt, "Breathe, ya a'ight, a'ight?"

"Yeah, yea… I'm good."

Eddie leads her back to the house, right as Emyr and Ethan wake up, the boys crying when they wake up.

"Oh, my baby boys." Kirby runs to the cot, picking up her sons and holding them close.

Marciano and Moxley check up on Eddie, Renee helps Kirby feed the twins, grabbing a bag of breastmilk from the fridge. Renee gives Ethan a bottle of breastmilk and Kirby takes her shirt off to feed Emyr.

"God damn, look at those tits!" Eddie hollers.

"Eddie, I'm feeding our baby, don't you get all fuckin' horny on me."

"Look at how fuckin' sexy you are though," Eddie smirks, kissing Kirby gently, "ya so sexy, Ma, so beautiful."

Kirby shakes her head, chuckling softly when she looks over at Renee. Renee mouths 'Go kiss him'. Kirby finishes feeding Emyr as Eddie walks out to the garage. She hands Emyr to Moxley, putting her shirt on as she walks to the garage.

"Eddie, hold up." She reaches for his hand as he gets to the car.

"What's up, Kirby?" He raises an eyebrow as he looks at her.

"Uhh… well, I… I wanted to do this…" She whispers, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him, gently at first but slowly heating up when Eddie puts his hands on her waist.

"Oh fuck, Ma," Eddie whispers against her lips, "every time you kiss me, it feels like the first time again."

[frameacloud]

Image description: A comic by S. Mirk (she/they) titled "IUD TMI: Everything I learned about IUDs!" The illustrations aren't explicit, and they're mostly black and white line drawings with sunny color accents in mostly yellow and orange.

(Transcriber's note: IUD is short for "intrauterine device." TMI is short for "too much information.")

The first panel has a montage of many things: a container of birth control pills with an angry face on it, dollar bills flying around, the word "babies" crossed out, a rubber glove, and an IUD.

The narration says, "I was really nervous about getting an IUD. Oh my god, surgery! A thing in my vagina! Plus it costs like a thousand dollars! But birth control pills were giving me all kinds of trouble and I wanted long-term contraception."

(Fact check added by the transcriber: IUD insertion is not surgery. They don't cut you. It's a minimally invasive procedure that takes only a few minutes.)

The second panel is designed to look like a dollar bill. It says, "Money turned out not to be a problem because... the federal Title X covers the cost of birth control for low-income people... and my insurance would cover most of the cost. Legit."

The third panel is designed to look like it's about two wrestlers, who are each a cartoon character version of an IUD, with faces, arms, and legs added.

"Then I had to choose between two kinds of IUDs. La Mirena vs. Ol' Copper."

"In this corner: La Mirena. * "Hormonal, but a much lower dose than birth control pills. * "Lasts five years." (Update added by the transcriber: in 2022, the FDA approved Mirena as effective for preventing pregnancy for up to eight years.) * "Often makes periods lighter and easier."

"In this corner: Ol' Copper. * "Non-hormonal. * "Lasts about ten years." (Update added by the transcriber: the FDA still approves use of it for up to ten years, but data supports that it can still be effective for twelve years, according to the article Evidence-Based Contraception.) * "Often makes periods heavier and worse."

"And my winner was... La Mirena!"

The cartoon character version of the Mirena IUD says, "¡Gracias, señorita!"

"And then came the big day... insertion!"

("Insertion" is written in a big drippy display lettering, like on a poster for a vintage horror movie.)

"I was super nervous! I'd heard inserting the IUD really hurt!"

A doctor holding up a speculum smiles reassuringly and says, "The part that hurts is only ninety seconds."

Then there is a sequence of panels that are a close-up on the cartoonist's face as the background color becomes gradually brighter to symbolize her level of discomfort.

Caption: "Preliminary poking around." The cartoonist is thinking, "Umm... okay." She only looks a little worried. The background is black.

Caption: "Thirty seconds." The cartoonist is thinking, "Ugh." She looks uncomfortable or a little sick. The background is dark gray.

Caption: "Ninety seconds." The cartoonist is thinking, "I will not die. I will not die." She's grimacing. The background is light gray.

Caption: "Big poke!" The background turns bright red, and the cartoonist exclaims out loud, "Fuck you!" From off screen, the doctor says, "Done!"

Narration: "Actually, the dread was worse than the pain! I'd equate it to 'as bad as slamming your hand in the car door,' except instead of your hand, it's your vagina. So... terrible."

"It felt like I had bad cramps for an hour."

"My boyfriend bought me ice cream, because he is the best."

"Then for about a month I had cramps for about ten to fifteen minutes a day."

(The words "month" and "cramps" are both written in drippy horror movie lettering.)

The cartoonist stands in front of a February calendar where each day is crossed off. She's hunched over, grimacing, and holding her belly, thinking, "This sucks."

"And then they just stopped!"

The cartoonist stands in front of a March calendar where one day was crossed off, and then a week of days after that has a smiley face on it. She's hunched over and holding her belly as though expecting it to hurt, but she isn't grimacing, just saying, "Huh."

"Now I love my IUD! I've had pretty much no continuing side effects and now I don't need to worry about birth control."

The cartoonist looks down at her body and says "Truce?" A speech bubble comes out of her belly as her uterus replies, "Fine."

Two cheer pennants wave. One has a heart, and the other says "Yay IUD!"

Description ends.

-----

Transcriber's updates and additions: In the years since Mirk posted the above comic, the link has broken, and the archived version of that site doesn't have these images.

For people who are worried that inserting an IUD might cause them pain, emotional distress, or dysphoria, they have options to make it more comfortable, if one asks for them. For example:

Before the procedure, the patient can have a questions-and-answers session with their provider. Ask to hold an IUD in your hand so you can see it. It's much smaller than most people expect.

The provider can give a prescription of an anti-anxiety medicine (an anxiolytic) to take before the procedure. The dread really is the worst part.

Studies are inconclusive about whether it helps to first take a pain pill (ibuprofen or naproxen), and/or local painkiller gel (lidocane gel). However, using them is safe, okay, and a good idea.

The provider can give a local injection of painkiller (a paracervical block).

They can give medicine to prepare the cervix (misoprostol) so they'll have an easier time inserting the IUD. Studies are inconclusive about whether this helps or if it's not worth the side effects, though.

Ask your provider to use a gentle, even voice as they continuously talk you through what they're doing during the procedure. That helps with the dread too. It's a lot like having a dentist who has a good manner.

After the procedure is done, take a few minutes to recover before you try to get up.

If one would prefer to be unconscious during the procedure, ask for it to be done under sedation.

All but the last of these tips come from the medical journal article Practical Tips for Intrauterine Devices Use in Adolescents, which goes into much more detail about them. In adolescents? Yeah, IUDs are ideal for getting all the way through one's school years without getting interrupted by a teen pregnancy. IUDs don't protect against sexually transmitted infections, though. Only condoms or other barriers can do that.

Disclaimer: I'm not a doctor, and this post is not medical advice. For medical advice, you must consult with your physician.

I got an IUD a while ago and people keep asking how it’s working for me. Instead of telling each person one by one, I decided to make this comic to share with the world. Hope it helps!

Click on the first image to read the comic through piece-by-piece or scroll through the full version by clicking here! 

[indoraptorgirlwind]

Hey Kit! Sorry I’m late for the Dia de los Muertos asks, I didn’t see them until earlier this afternoon, but I’m gonna send some now if that’s okay!

❤️‍🔥

🕯️

👹

Again, so sorry about not sending them earlier!

-Maddie

((No worries!))

Send ❤️‍🔥 and she'll tell you a fact about the day of the dead

"Okay so, every color used in the altar has a special meaning.

Blue represents those who had a death related to water.

Yellow represents those who died at an elder age or became grands.

Green represents those who died young.

Orange represents mourning and respect for the dead.

White represents those who died as kids/babies.

Pink represents the country and the religion.

Red represents fallen warriors and women who died giving birth.

Black represents the underworld"

Send🕯 and she'll tell you a story of hers with one of her late relatives

"Okay, so, when i was like 6 or something, me and my dad were making the altar for my grandpa. Unknown to us, we left a paper way too close to a candle, and suddenly we saw it catch fire.

I inmediatly took his cup of water in panic and threw it at the fire. He understood and we both laughed at the absurdity of the situation"

Send 👹 and she will tell you a legend

"Oh! I just remembered this one! So, many years ago, there was a little kid named Nachito.

Nachito was really afraid of darkness, and his parents would always leave some candles on his bedroom at night.

One night, however, the wind was so strong that it opened the windows and the air turned off the fire in the candles. Nachito was so frightened that the poor boy died out of fear.

He was buried, but next morning his grave was found to have his coffin outside. They buried it again but the other morning the same hapoened, so they decided to leave it like that.

Nowadays, the tomb is still here and people even bring him toys, where some have said to have seen the toys move"

[valorandgold]

@sweptawxy continued from this

“Dwyer! It is so lovely to see you, come quick come!” The boisterous girl grabbed onto the poor boy’s arm and pulled him along quickly down a small corridor that led outside the castle. Around a sharp corner, there was a raggedy box falling apart and moldy from the humid air. Inside the box, came a small little meow like sound. “Look here, they’re precious!” She finally dragged him close enough for Dwyer to see three little kittens.

One was an orange color with faint stripes of dark orange, another was fluffier than their siblings and black as night with big green eyes, and the smaller of the three looked to be a little scrawny and was a grey color, hiding in the corner and meowing as if annoyed by all the noise.

“See? Oh- I wonder if they shall let these poor souls in the castle, they’re too cute to be out here!” Ophelia picked the black one up and kissed it’s little nose while it batted her face. “You shall be bestowed the name Shadowfax! The magnificent!”

“Ophelia, wait-” Dwyer hadn’t even gotten a second’s time to protest when the mage grabbed a hold of his arm and practically dragged him just outside the castle to where there was a box in poor shape, and had likely deteriorated rather quickly from the humidity by Dwyer’s best estimation. He seemed slightly annoyed and was about to ask what they were even doing here before he heard a light mewling from the damaged brown rectangle, and as he took a look, much as Ophelia had urged him to, he came to understand what she had brought him here to see.

“...Ah. Most likely the owners of the cat who gave birth to this litter didn’t have the coin to care for their babies properly and placed them near the castle in the hopes that someone well-off might look after them,” Dwyer thought aloud. Though things were much more peaceful in Nohr as of late, both sides were still recovering both in terms of morale and economy. The war had taken a toll even before peace had been reached, and so people were getting by where they could until things had finally settled down enough to be improved.

“...perhaps you ought to ask your parents if they will let you keep them before you ‘bestow names’ upon any of them.” Shadowfax? What sort of a name was that. Well...the sort that only Ophelia (or her father) might give such a creature, he supposed. “I doubt they would be barred entry to the castle, nor would they be removed so long as someone is willing to take them in as their own pets to care for. I don’t know that ‘strays’ would be quite as welcome, particularly when traversing the castle is sometimes a bit of a hazard.” 

[doxiedreg]

Decided to draw all the fish I have lost so far and name those that didnt have names. I think it helped a little..Keeping fish can be so fucking rough..

Causes of death of each under the cut:

Pandam: First fish to die, cause unknown. Happened like a week after purchasing them and the first group of corys. Kept away from the others while alive and was lethargic. Found him severely injured one morning (i think the pleco or snails might have attacked him in his weakened state) put him seperate in a bucket of water and a few minutes later he was gone. burried him (Like all the other deaths except the shrimp and one of the rasboras) in one of my flower pots.

Lil orange: first was flashing herself against plants and decor, her and lemon were acting strange for a long while before i finally figured out it was worms (caught them hanging out their anusses one night with a flashlight) however the worms had injured her and weakened her too much and eventhough i medicated, she succumbed to them and secondary infections/injuries.

Nuv and Dix: freak accident that im still not sure how it happened. They both ended up lodged between my filter sponges. I found one of them still alive, got them out of the filter and put them back in the water. However they had suffered too much stress and injury and could no longer swim. Put them in the bucket so they could at least die in peace and they passed a few minutes later. Then for a couple of days I noticed that another one was missing. I could only see 8 while it should have been 9 after that death. Then next filter maintenance i found a slimy fleshy heap attached to one of my sponges which i assume used to be the missing rasbora that i must have missed when i found the other one..

Mom shrimp: White ring of death. I assume it was all the waterchanges i did in a short amount of time because of the medication. She had eggs who were already quite developped. I left her in the tank to be eaten by the others so her nutrients could be recycled at least

Lemon and most of her babies: Lemon finally gave birth but most babies were stillborn and then eaten by the other fish. at least 3 fry survived but 2 are now stuck behind the filter with no way for me to get them out of there so they will probably starve to death and i feel absolutely awful about it..but at least one baby is still alive and growing, swimming around the tank grabbing lil food scraps here and there. Tentatively naming them lemon baby

After giving birth, Lemon still remained very swolen. I first thought that maybe she still had some babies inside her but even days later she was still swolen. She developped a dark spot visible under the skin and while at the beginning she could still swim fine, near the end of her life she was constantly at the surface and couldnt swim well. I tried giving her salt baths and while at first she acted more active in the salt water, it didnt really improve her situation. I was thinking of putting her down but didnt have a container to mix the clove oil in yet..then one morning I found her dead, the black spot gone but her insides looking quite red. I suspect the black spot was either a tumor or a cyst filled with blood that then popped and she internally bled out. Im still not entirely sure what caused it, maybe reproductive cancer?? Dont think it was worms again because i didnt see any. she didnt eat or poop from what i could see either.

Loki: The fish i put down with clove oil today. He had been breathing heavily for a long while. He was also paler than the others and less active. He held his fins clamped and was less reactive and seemed to struggle with getting around. When the water was medicated before i didnt see the symptoms improve and the other panda corys are active and looking healthy. And corydoras are very sensitive to salt from what ive read so i couldnt try that route. So…I decided to put him down..when i caught him in the net he struggled like crazy which made it even harder on me. I even thought about letting him go but then he would just continue to slowly waste away..and i didnt want him to suffer. So i put him in the bucket and added the mixed clove oil. he slowed down and then eventually lied on his side, i added another higher dose and then he was gone. Waited 20 minutes to make sure he was really gone and then burried him. I didnt see anything obviously wrong when I examined him before that so its again very hard on me. making me doubt myself.

Keeping fish can be heartbreaking as you cant take them to the vet or even examine them yourself easily since they are so small. So unless it's an obvious external fish disease (like ick or mold) you don't know whats wrong with them and you can only throw general medication at them in hopes it works. I will be okay..I still love my fishtank as I enjoy watching it but it sure is a cause of stress and worries..

Just..had to write that all out. If you read it all, thank you..I just..am trying my best to cope..

[mooncalf87]

Most of you know, Bunty Broadacre is my favorite character, here are some hc about her. If anyone can find a good Bunty Fanfic pleaseeee tell me, the only ones I can find are the ones ive written.

They met by Bunty accidentally running head first into Newt

Bunty is super talkative, but in public her brain just shuts down

Bunty was the one to gift Newt his case

The Unicorns and Mooncalfs seem to like Bunty better than Newt

During an animal birth, the mothers would always try to shoo off Newt from their lower side, but when Bunty helped, they didn't mind, and both Newt and Bunty had no idea why

Whenever either was ill, they would show up at each others flat, knowing that they had someone who would help them

Before Bunty could find a house, she lived with Newt

They traveled the world together, twice, and bonded over it

Bunty was the one to discover the exact location of Frank in Egypt

Bunty was a twin, she lost her sister to being an Auror, and fell into deep depression because of it. She tried to commit suicide, but Newt was able to save her in time

Bunty loved learning about languages, and could speak fluent English, French, Spanish, Japanese, Chinese, and German. It got the two of them out of a lot of sticky situations

Bunty had a Bowtruckle that was fond of her, it hid in her hair, and it was called Minx, after a girl who once saved them from a beast in China.

She was 22 when she met, and started working for him.

Bunty has gone through about eight wands in the time of being a Magizoologist, most broken by pure clumsiness

She loves cats. Absolutely loves them. For her 21st birthday, Newt got her a orange kitten she named Gingersnap

Once her and Newt got separated on a hunt for a creature in the rocky mountains, they were apart for days, super paranoid because they were alone, when they found each other again they nearly killed each other with hugs, which was rare for both of them

She almost never has shoes on. She loved going barefoot on grass, and dancing in the rain

She is good at drawing, she made most of the sketches for Newts book, but wanted Newt to get the credit

In Spellbound, when she was called "unknown woman" Newt was furious, he expressed this when he got back from Paris

Most people think its weird that she likes men's clothing, she likes how people find her strange

She had horrible anxiety just like Newt, and when she would get overwhelmed, she usually had panic attacks, Newt was the only one who knew how to calm her down

Most of the time she was either super awake or super tired, one or the two

She didn't realize she was in love with Newt till three years after they started working together, and she was 26.

She once got attacked by a Muggle gang, and turned up at Newts, half-past one in the morning, a black eye, a broken wrist, and fell unconscious right when he opened the door

Her and Newt would call each other "human" in the case or the basement, because they were, in fact, the only humans down there

Because Newt was with the animals first, he was always called "mummy" so Bunty always called herself "daddy" and Newt found it hilarious

She would call him in a sing song voice, and hold the ou sound in his name till he came

She had an allergy to Dittany, she and Newt learned that the hard way.

She has a child. She got raped just after her 23th birthday, one year after starting to work with Newt, and she ended up pregnant. She continued her pregnancy, scared and anxious, but Newt was by her side every step forward the way. She always got anxious in public, even though he did to, he would to with her to all of her check up appointments for herself and the baby. He even held her hand as she gave birth in St. Mungos, and had a girl.

She gave the baby up for adoption, and she was sent to a foster family, where she was told they were her real parents, and she had nine siblings, but then was sent to New York a later and got adopted under the name of Modesty Barebone.

Giving her baby up absolutely tore her to bits, but she knew she was too young, and dedicated to her job. Newt was there for her at her hardest times.

She owned a case of her own, and in the top left corner was a photo of her with her hour old daughter, and Newt. The two people she cared about most in the world. Then photos from Dumbledores first army, and photos of Aberforth and their kids joined.

She thought about her daughter nearly everyday, sometimes she would ask Newt out of the blue "do you think Dale is okay?"

Newt recognized Modesty, or Dale, as Bunty had named her, when he was in New York, when she was standing outside the bank. He could tell because she had the same face shape, eyes and nose of Bunty. When he got home he told Bunty and she broke down in tears, learning the life her daughter had. Newt comforted her, and told her she was in a better place now that Mary Lue was dead.

Buntys daughters full name was Dalein Newton Broadacre

She would never admit it, but Deugal was her favorite animal.

She was quite fast and flexible, she was able to climb up in trees easily to get a higher view of things

She was also expelled from Hogwarts for trying to help a creature.

She tells people her first name is Bunty, Newt is the only non-family member that knows her actual full name– Elizabeth Madison Wyrain Broadacre.

After everything that happened in SoD she went to New York, and found her daughter. She explained everything to her and told her how much she always wanted to meet her. Modesty was dieing, from her magic being forced inward. She had made it to the age of 13, which was surprising, Bunty spent the last week of her daughter's life by her side, she held her hand as she took her last breath, and her last words were "I love you, mama."

When Bunty returned back to England, she told Newt everything. She cried explaining that she was there when her daughter took her last breath, and Newt cried a little too. She was exhausted, and fell asleep on Newts couch, Newt coverd her with a blanket and went to his bed, and fell asleep himself.

Bunty, Lally, Queenie and Tina were the best of friends once they all met.

Bunty was never jealous of Tina snd Newt. She loved Newt so much at one point, so when she knew he was happy with Tina, she was happy to.

At the Scamander wedding, when Tina threw her flowers and Bunty cought them. Well, actually, she looked the other way and got hit in the face with them.

Bunty was the first person Tina ever told she was pregnant with the first Scamander child.

Bunty was at the Scamander house everyday because of her job, and Tina loved her company.

On a blizzarding night, Bunty, Lally and Tina were all at the Scamander home, while Newt was away for his book, and got cought in the weather. The blizzard was too thick, and it was too dangerous for Bunty or Lally to go home. Tina unexpectedly went into labor, and Bunty was the one to deliver the little Scamander.

When Tina was scared and crying during her labor, and Lally failed to calm her down, Bunty stepped in and told her about her long lost daughter. Lally and Tina were shocked at the wisdom Bunty held in her words, and she was able to calm Tina down.

She and Abe were made the godparents for the scecond Scamander baby, Bunty Tina Lally Scamander.

Bunty had never expected to fall in love with Aberforth. But, she did.

Her and Aberforth had three kids, Hopendale their first daughter. Then twin girls, Maeva and Ariana.

All three of their girls are never really called by their first name. Its usually just Hope, Mae and Ari.

Hope looked like a carbon copy of Abe but with flame-red hair.

Maeva grew up to be a Magizoologist along side the first Scamander child. Hope became an Auror, trained personality by Theseus. Ari became a professor at Ilvermorny with Lally.

The first Scamander child, Alexander Newton Scamander, married Hopendale, they had one child, Rolf Scamander, who married Luna Lovegood.

Newt and Bunty found it absolutely hilarious that their children got married, making them related by law.

All of the Dumbledore kids had flame red hair just like their mum, it was easy to spot them out in a crowd.

They grew up in Hogsmeade, so they went to the feast on Christmas day each year with uncle Albus.

Albus spoiled his niece's like mad.

Abe might not look kind, but his daughters, son, brother, friends, and wife made a soft in his heart.

Anymore? Add to the list!

And yes Ik the timeline with Modesty is a little off, but you have to have a little imagination for fanfics. Just go with it, lol.

[redacted-ghost]

Headcanons that Darlin’ has a family of stray cats

We all know Darlin’ has a soft side, and I think that that soft side is shown with a family of stray cats that Darlin’ has.

It would start with the mom- named Momma- who showed up one day, pregnant, and wanting food. Darling saw her and decided to feed her every day, leaving both food, water, and a box with a heating pad, blankets, and a pillow, that they had laying around.

Darling didn’t necessarily stay out too often with Momma, due to how often they weren’t home to begin with, and the first time they tried to pet Momma she hissed at them. However, after a while, Momma was close to popping and got really affectionate towards the person that kept on giving her food and a place to stay. 

She would purr anytime that Darling would get close to their front porch, try to rub against their legs, and when Darling opened the door about two days into the sudden shift of character, she strutted in like she owned the sad place.

However, Darling didn’t mind too much, just bringing in the box and food bowls (they were just bowls they had lying around) into the kitchen so Momma would have a warm place inside.

After Momma gave birth to three kittens, she immediately entrusted Darling when she didn’t want the kittens. Y’know those cute videos where cats bring their human the babies because they trust them so much? Yeah, that’s the gist of it.

Darling names them times of the day- dawn, dusk, Twilight (although they call her ‘light’ for short). The reason why is the color of their fur, Momma is a grey and orange tabby, and whoever banged her up had some black fur genes. Dawn took Momma’s coloring, Dusk is a pure orange tabby, and Twilight is a grey and black tabby.

Now, Darling isn’t one to think poorly of animals, they’re just… uninformed. Long story short, they forgot that kittens have different personalities from their parents, like children. And with this, did they have to find the money to fluctuate with each of their wants and needs.

Darling still doesn’t take care of themself, but they’d be damned if their kittens didn’t get the best of the best. Those go-gurt things? has a box full of them just because each kitten adores them. And Darling doesn’t forget about Momma, not for a second, she has the best bed in the house, the best snacks Darling can buy, and yes, she did get spayed.

While at the beginning Darling didn’t enjoy the idea of the cats sleeping on their bed, opting more to training them to sleep on their cat tree (costed them an arm and a leg to get, it has one of those dangling things, and the extra cat scratchers, etc.). But, after a while of very stubborn kittens and Momma, they gave in and allowed them to sleep with them.

Now, Sam finding out Darling has cats? Let me show this idea:

Darling still gets into that 2v1 fight with the vamps and stumbles on home, opening up the door to crash on their couch.

The kittens are meowing for food, pushing up against Darling’s legs to get up again as Momma is sitting on the couch, starting to lick at Darling’s head where some blood was.

The phone call to Sam was similar to what happened, except Sam can tell that Darling is walking- their strained voice with every step shows it very well- and there are suspicious meowing sounds on the other end of the call.

When he gets to Darling’s place, they have to open the door without letting Momma escape- while they trust her to come back, especially after the entire labor thing- they just can’t stress over something else at this point.

Sam pushes Darling to sit back down, needing to every so often move a kitten off of Darling’s torso so he can start the healing process. After he was certain that they weren’t going to die overnight, and after the long lecture he gave them, he picked up Light, allowing him to curl up in his arms as he pets him.

“I didn’t peg you to be the type to own pets, let alone four cats,” Sam says, scratching behind the kitten’s ear.

Darling huffs, a smirk on their face while Momma starts to lick their arm, trying to clean off the dried sweat and blood from Darling. “Well, I didn’t mean to get four, Momma right here just decided to stay and they duplicated after that. Like Gremlins.”

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

  “ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

   ‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem. 

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

     The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

  “Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

  “Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

  “You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

  “John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

  “Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

   You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

  “Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

  “Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

  “It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

  “Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

  “Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

  “You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

  After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

  “Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

  “Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

  “I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

  “Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

  You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

  “Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

  The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

  You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

  Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

  You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

  You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

  Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

  Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

  Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.  

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

  He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

  “C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

  The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

  “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

  “Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

  The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

  “We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

  “Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

  “I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

  To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

  On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

  He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

  “Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

  “You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.  

  “Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

  “You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

  “Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

  “As in bi-curious?”

  “Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

  When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

    ||\\

  It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

  “Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

  She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV.  “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

  “Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

  “Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

  It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

  The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

  Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

  “Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

  “Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

  “C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

  “Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

  You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

  “Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

  “Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

  “Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

  Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

  Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

  “Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

  He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

  “He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

  “None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

  When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

  “Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

  “You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

  Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

  “Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

  He’s lying. You can tell.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

  “Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

  He’s angry.

  You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

  “Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

  He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

  “Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

  As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

  Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

   Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

  The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

  “Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

  “Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

  You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.    

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

  You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

  “I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

  “Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

  He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

  Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

  “Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

  “Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

  “It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

  He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

  “Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

  “I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

  “Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

  “Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

  “Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

   She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

     You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

  At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  “Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

  “You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

  “It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

  “I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

  “Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

  “Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

  “I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

  “Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

  Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

  As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

  You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

  “Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

  “What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

  “Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

  “Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

  “Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

  “You’re bossy today.”

  You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

  “Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

  “I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.  

  All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

  “Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

  “I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

  “Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

  “Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

  “Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

  “I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

  “I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

  “Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

  “Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

  “I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

        ||\\

  You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

  “I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

  “I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

  “Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

  “I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

  “How can you even say that?” he barked.

  “Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

  He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

  “Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

  “Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

  “I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

   A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it. 

   And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close. 

   Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together.  You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

  “Hello?”

  “Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

  “How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

   He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

  “I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

  “You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

  “That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

  You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

  “It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

  “You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

  “It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

  “Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

  He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

 “Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

  “I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

  “Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

  Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

  As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

  Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

  She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Last time you said that…”

  “I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

  “Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

  He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

  “Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

  “Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

  “You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

  “Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

  “Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

  “I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

  Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

  “What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

  I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

     You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

  But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

  “Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

  “Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

  “I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

  He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

  “I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

  “So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

  “I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

  “Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

   He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

  “Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant. 

  “Yes?”

  “Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly. 

  That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

  “For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

   By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

  “That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

  “What about you?”

  “Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

  “But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

  “That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

  Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.  

  You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

  He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

   Well, shit.

  He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

  You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

  You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

  “You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath.  You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

  You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

  “Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

  “What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

  “We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

  “Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

  You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

  “Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

  “Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

  ||\\

  He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

  He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

  He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

  So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

 ||\\

    “What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

  Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

  You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

  “We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

  “What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

  “Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

  “Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

  “Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

  “Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

  As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

  “Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

  “Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

  He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

  Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

  “Yoongi, what-“

  “Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

  No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

  At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

  “Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

   Brother?

  “How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

  “Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

  “Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

  “People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

  “I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

  “Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

  “I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

  “Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

  “Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

  “It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

  Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

  “Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

  “Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

  Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

  “Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

  Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.    

  There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

  “How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

  He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

  “I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

  “What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

  “Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

  This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

  You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.  

  “Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

   ||\\

                                                       “Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

     It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

  No. He promised.

  You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

  Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

  Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

  You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

  “Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

  “When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

  “I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

  “Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

  He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

  “I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

  “What, now? Y/N-“

  “I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

  Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

  “No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

  He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.”

  As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

  Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

  You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

  You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

  “Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

  He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

  “Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

  Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

  “Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

  “No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

  When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

  Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

 ||\\

    The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

  During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

  “Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

  The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

  “Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

  “Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

  “It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

  “You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

  You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

  “It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

  Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

  Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

  Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

  “Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

  You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

  “Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

  You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

  “So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

  “Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

  “I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

  “Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

  “I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

  “Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

  “Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

  Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

  “H-How come?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

  You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

  “Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

  “That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

  “Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

  “I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

  You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

  “Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

  Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

  “If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

  He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

  “Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

  “Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

  “Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

  “Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

  “Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

  That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

  Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

  “No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

  “Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

  “No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

  He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

  “You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

  You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

  “I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

  You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

  Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

  Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

  During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

  You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

  “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

  “She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

  As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

  “Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

  All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

  “Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

  “We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

  “Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

  “Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

  “Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

  “I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

  “Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

  “I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

  “Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

  Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

  You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

  “Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

  “Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

  “Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

  “Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

  “Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

  “Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

  “What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

  His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

  “Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

  He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

  “Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

  “That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

  His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

  “Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

  He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

  “Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

  “I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

  A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

  “Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  “My place.”

  Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

  “Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

  The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.  

  Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

  He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

  “Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

  He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

  “Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

  You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

  “Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

  Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

  “Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

  His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

  “When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

  “A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

  “Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.  

  “How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

  It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

  “Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

  “I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

  “We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

  “Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

  “You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

  “Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

  “I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

  “Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

  “If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

  His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

  “I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

  “Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

  He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

  “I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

  He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

  You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

  “Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

  “Not even then.”

  “How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

  The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

  “Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

  Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

  Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

  Alright. Great.

  As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

  Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

  “It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

  You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

  “I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

  “Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

  “It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

  Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated  guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

  “Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

  You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

  “Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

  You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

  “It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

  “This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

  “Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

  It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

  Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

  “How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

  His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

  “Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

  As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

  “Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

  “Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

  “Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

  “Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

  “B-But the protocol-“

  “Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

   He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

  “That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

  “If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

  “Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

  Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

  “I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

  “W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

  “Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

  He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

  “You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

  “Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

  “An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

  “You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

  Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

  “My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

  “It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

  “So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

  “Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

  “So you rebelled?”

  “No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

  “I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

  “Because of the devil, right?”

  “Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

   Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

   When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

  Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

   You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

  “I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

  “But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

  “Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

  “I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

  All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

  “Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

  “No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

  You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

  “You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

      There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

  “I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

  “I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

  “Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

  “I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

  “Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

  Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

  You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

  Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

  Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.  

  Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

  “Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

  “Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

  “It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

  By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

  “I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

  His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

  “You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

  “Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

  That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

  “Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

  Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

  “It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

  “Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

  While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

  When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

  “Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

  By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

  “I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

  “Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

  “Can we go home, please?”

 The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

  “Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

  You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

[lemons3ason]

The Asakura Twins Loving the Same Person Headcannons

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-You grew up with Yoh, you come from a powerful line of Shamans and since you were both the same age your families thought it would be good for you to be his protector from Hao.

-That plan was a failure since both of you were equally lazy and only enjoyed the simple things in life like music and food.

-You were the two little kids that made the promise to marry each other when you were older and his parents openly called you a couple until Yoh met Anna.

-With Anna’s strict training you both became surprisingly strong Shamans but you left about three years before the official Shaman tournament.

-While you were traveling and enhancing your powers you met Hao. Though the whole meeting left you heartbroken and alone something about you made him want you more. The tearless enraged (e/c) orbs that complimented your blood stained face made him fall head over heels for you.

-Though with what little energy you had left you escaped him easily but he never could find you again.

-Neither of them see you again until during the Shaman Fights and Yoh absolutely tackles the hell out of you.

-“(Y/n)! You’re here I can’t believe it! Well of course I can believe it this is you we’re talking about but (Y/n)!”, Yoh screams hugging you tight.

-You’re both babbling away at each other like Nala and Simba were when they reunited and everyone is quick to notice the huge smile that drew over Yoh’s face as you spoke to him and embraced him.

-When you all have your encounter with Hao in Patch Village, Yoh is immediately protective of you stepping between you and Hao since he dared to walk up to you.

-That’s when everyone finds out you already know who Hao is since you’ve shared a fight with him.

-He killed your Mother and in return your left him a noticeable scar against the side of his neck, He’s been tracking you down ever since.

-Hao loves you because you’re strong, you don’t fear him, you hate him. He wants to keep you all to himself and since he’s surprisingly good at flirting your forced to blush on several occasions.

-Hao changes when you’re around, he’s almost so convincingly calm and gentle that you wouldn’t be able to tell that he was a mass murderer.

-Hao becomes a constant bother to you until you start getting used to his presence but you’d never tell him you enjoy having him around since he is still evil.

-“Such a pretty shade of red, did I make your heart race?”, Hao will ask cupping your cheek tenderly as he admires your red glow.

-You’ll slap his hand away and scoot closer to Yoh who will grin and stick his tongue out at his older brother.

-Each fight they’ll hope to hear or see you in the stands rooting for them, showing off just to impress you.

-Likewise they both do the same for you, Hao watches from afar but when you win he’ll make his Spirit of Fire create small heart shaped flames in front of you to show that he was watching. Yoh jumps from his spot in the stands and raced to hug you and congratulate you on a job well done.

-One night just before the pre-finals start both brothers find you and have something important to ask of you. Hao is much more calm and collected a soft smile on his face as he nervously plays with the ends of his hair. Yoh on the other hand, is a blushing mess nervously playing with his fingers as he calls out your name.

-“(Y-y/n)...I-I...”

-“(Y/n), we love you but we understand you can only love one of us back. Please choose who you want to care for your heart.”, Hao spoke with so much confidence on the matter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Yoh’s Route*

-You smiled at their sudden confession but since childhood you knew that Yoh was the only one for you.

-“Hao I’m sorry but I don’t love you. I’ve loved Yoh for so long now but he had Anna so I never tried confessing to him.”, you admitted softly watching Yoh’s face explode into a blush.

-Hao was deeply upset by your decision, but he respected you enough to leave it as it was. Now he could focus on destroying you and becoming shaman king without hesitation.

-Yoh was so excited that you had accepted his feelings that he lunged into your arms and placed a sweet kiss to your lips

-“Heehee I’m so glad you feel the same. I love you (Y/n).”, Yoh cheers in a soft voice pecking your lips again just to be sure it wasn’t a dream.

-Somehow you snuck into Yoh’s room with the boys and everyone woke up the next day to see you balled up at Yoh’s side, the goofiest grin plastered over his face.

-Horohoro was quick to notice the small love bite on the side of his neck neck and snickered, seems like you were the dominant and possessive one in the relationship.

-Anna is a bit heartbroken at first but you promised to still let her whip you and Yoh into shape if you ever slacked off to much.

-She accepted and in the end she got her dream of becoming Wife of the Shaman king since Hao had confessed his adoration for her about a month later, he won the shaman fights in the end so he did become king.

-You and Yoh were happy, a peaceful couple in a wild world surrounded by the people you loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Hao’s Route*

-You were left speechless by Hao’s blunt confession and it made you sad knowing that you had already made your choice.

-You flashed a sad smile to Yoh and hugged him much to his heart break but with a few simple words of encouragement he seemed okay being friend zoned, in the end it would be the best for both of you. He was happy with Anna by his side and you didn’t want to get between them when you knew they were meant for each other.

-Once you had pulled away from Yoh, Hao scooped you up in his arms and you both vanished. Having returned to his camp you stared at him in wonder to what he was going to do next.

-“To think that you would have actually grown to love me. I still can’t believe you actually do but I’m happy... absolutely happy. My little star.”, he hummed embracing tenderly as if you’d break if he held you to hard.

-You were nervous about your decision, thoughts overfilled your mind about how crazy you were for falling for your mother’s murderer, Hao could sense it so he washed away your insecurities with a soft peck to the cheek.

-“I’ll make sure you never regret your choice, even if I have to start from square one. I love you (Y/n), you don’t have to worry about anything by my side.”, He’ll whisper in your ears hugging you tight.

-Unsurprisingly he’s very touched starve so he’s always seeking you out for physical affection, be it a kiss or just holding your hand.

-Super romantic, you do have to keep him under control since he’s a bit protective and possessive but with a good scold you’re able to get him to respect your personal space and consider your feelings towards his behavior.

-Openly marks you with love bites and hickies even if you complain about them being to dark or to visible to others.

-You become his Shaman Queen *but only after making him promise to bring back everyone that he killed during the Shaman Fights since his new powers granted him that ability* and he loves you deeply with each passing day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*Self Route*

-You were shocked having been confessed to by the twins, you did love them but not like they loved you.

-You smiled at both of them and hugged them tight before stepping back and explaining that to them.

-It hurt, it was obvious by their expressions but you didn’t need a partner by your side at least not now.

-Yoh respected that much about you, Hao was a bit petty about your decision but he just left you alone after that night.

-You fought alongside Yoh for the rest of the shaman fights and helped defeat Hao even though he took the crown of Shaman King.

-Life made sense due to your decision. With Hao being a god it was rare to see him but as years went by you and Yoh and quickly outgrown him and you made fun of him for it every time you saw him.

-You own an orange cat and named him Hao Jr.

-You’re the first to hold little Hana Asakura once he’s born since Yoh had fainted during the birthing process, Anna literally only trusts you with her baby.

-Your the crazy aunt that carries little Hana around in a baby chest carrier, both of you wearing black shades as you walk around flexing that you are the proud aunt of a handsome little orange boy!

-Yoh is super happy to find out that you end up engaged to Horohoro but does give him the talk about cherishing you and killing you if he hurts you.

-Yoh and Hao become your honorary brothers and they don’t let anyone mess with you even if you’re old enough to protect yourself.

[tundrainafrica]

Title: At Sunrise

Summary:  

“If I give birth while looking out at the sunset, do you think I’ll forget what happened... in the war?” Hange cocked her head to the side and whatever subtle smile on her face had faded into something more desolate.

“Do memories even work that way?” Levi asked.

“Maybe they do? All I know is when I see the setting sun, I don’t wanna think of death anymore. I wanna think of life.”

Hange wants to give birth to her child at sunset and Levi and Hange both learn that it's not that simple. Written for Levihan Week 2021, Day 3: Sunset

Link: AO3

Notes:

Written for Levihan Week 2021, Day 3: Sunset, organized by @levihanweek.

I hope you enjoy!

Hange’s pregnancy had been far from peaceful. As time passed though, as her stomach swelled, Hange transformed from the embodiment of chaos into this strangely calm creature. And their home had started to feel more like a sanctuary than a warzone.

Having dealt with the worst of Hange’s restlessness, Levi was still always searching for conflict in that very suspicious silence. He searched for conflict in the silent kitchen, in the clatter of plates, the clank of the utensils on the plates and pots.

The noise was all his though. Hange had gone out to the balcony for some fresh air just a while ago.

She had a very annoying habit of wandering off without telling him and Levi had more than nine months to confirm it for himself and to build contingency plans. He knew what to do. He set an internal timer for fifteen minutes like he did every other time before. He would never leave Hange alone for anything more than fifteen minutes at a time.

But he never told her that. In between housework, in between dusting each room, he was counting down. When the countdown was close to five, he was already on his way to the balcony. When it was down to two, he already had a clear view of what was beyond the glass door.

By the time his internal counter fell to one, he was watching Hange. Her back was towards him, her hair was down and she was sitting on the sun chair.

Strangely relaxed, strangely at peace.

After such an eventful pregnancy, even peace had a way of alerting Levi’s primitive instincts. He couldn’t tell too much from her back, but her movements were too relaxed. It was far from what he had expected from someone who had always approached adversity with a confident stride.

Just one look. Levi told himself. He dropped his mop by the side of the glass door and walked out and onto the balcony.

The back view of Hange didn’t lie. She was slower than usual, but she wasn’t at all sluggish. It seemed like she wasn’t in a hurry at all, as if frozen in time. When Levi stood closer, got a clearer side view, he started to figure for herself what had her in such a state.

A large baby bump. Something he had gotten used to overtime. With Hange relaxed, her shoulders dropped and slouched on the sun chair, it was bigger.

She had a clumsily folded paper crane propped on her belly. Her hands were busy folding another one. Her belly was a table where she would rest her hands during her short breaks in between.

She looked like she had found joy in the process. Levi didn’t have to ponder for long to figure out what exactly made a few paper cranes amusing enough to entertain even Hange.

The paper crane on her belly hopped for a split second, carried by the air or maybe some trick of gravity.

Levi stifled a smile. He walked closer, slowly at first. When the crane hopped again, Levi sped up then leaned over until his face was inches away from her.

Hange looked up at him, her eyes wide, a grin plastered on her lips. “Try it.” Her tone had been welcoming, as if she hadn’t at all been surprised by Levi barging in on whatever intimate moment she had with her belly.

“Try what?” Levi asked. He noticed the pile of papers right between them, cut out in squares.

Hange pulled one from the pile, held it gently between her fingertips and she started to fold them, clumsily, very clumsily.

Maybe she just didn't do too well with anything hands-on, or maybe the pains of giving birth had made it a little more difficult to align corners perfectly with the first folds.

Either way, the important thing was Hange enjoyed it. The safe and peaceful activity of folding paper cranes and propping it on her belly had kept her busy, kept her productive and more importantly kept her too distracted to ponder work and the impending labor.

Levi followed suit, to humor her or to just enjoy those tranquil bonding moments few and far between. Admittedly, his own attempts at folding a bird were neater than Hange’s.

She didn’t seem to mind. “Hey! Let’s use that.” In fact, she looked pretty excited to have a more deftly folded bird on her belly.

Her enthusiasm was contagious and Levi found himself taking the initiative. He gingerly placed the bird on her belly and the paper wings bounced with a neat flourish.

“Not there,” Hange chided. She grabbed the wing and held it lightly between her fingertips, dragging it a few inches to one side. “Then we wait.”

They didn’t have to wait for long. Hange watched with too much anticipation, Levi could have pretended she was watching something a million times more interesting than a belly.

The bird bounced then flew once again, the wings fluttered. A subtle but still surreal enough of a view that Levi didn’t notice how his hands instinctively plopped onto her baby bump.

“Did you see that?” Hange’s eyes were wide with wonder, complete satisfaction. She could have been telling him about a new shipment of new technology from Marley.

“See what?” Levi asked. He had a good guess of what Hange had been referring to.

“The baby, he kicked,” Hange responded. “Watch.” Her grin evolved into something toothy, her eyes narrowed to something sly. She hovered her hand just an inch away from the paper crane on her belly and she started to poke at her belly. Then the skin of her belly moved for just a split second.

“What the---”

Hange let out a naughty laugh as she poked again on the other side. She turned to Levi. “You wanna try?” She guided his hand towards the side of her belly..

For a while, Levi hesitated. “Are you fucking serious? You’re gonna start a fight with your child now?”

“A fight?” Hange furrowed her eyes in confusion, then she put her hand on her belly and poked again. “Well, might as well start the kid early right?”

Levi wanted to rebel. He didn’t want to give Hange what she wanted, especially when she was in one of those impish moods of hers. When Hange poked again, Levi didn’t follow suit. Instead he spread his hands out and propped it on her belly. He caressed slowly. He felt a kick then he moved his hand closer to the kick and stroked around the surface a little more carefully.

“You’re too boring,” Hange said with a pout.

“The kid’s been through too much already,” Levi responded. A restless Hange, an overworked Hange, a kidnapping fiasco, a rat bite were more than enough adventure for an unborn baby.

The real world probably wouldn’t be any better anyway. The soldier inside him suggested. The world they lived in was different, it was an era of peace. Levi was hopeful enough to brush that cynical thought with little to no problems.

Hange had started off with strategic pokes and prods around the belly but eventually, she had mellowed down to caresses and strokes, similar to Levi’s own. Her attention must have shifted elsewhere. Levi looked up to see Hange looking ahead.

The view from their balcony has always been breathtaking. It captured the horizon of urban Paradis, some of the mountains behind it and just a flicker of the flat fields towards one side. Having lived most of his life in the underground city and then within walls, Levi had never gotten tired of the unimpeded view that stretched even beyond the built up land.

Hange would probably never get tired of it either. She had lived within walls her whole life. She had worked within offices for years after that. There just wasn’t enough opportunity or time to sit back and appreciate such a view.

The baby continued to kick and Hange continued to stare ahead. Following her gaze, Levi was quick to notice it. Beyond the built up land, then the fields, towards the direction of the ocean, something else shone brighter. The loud shades of red, orange and yellow seemed to travel farther, they climbed over the shadows of the buildings, travelled through gaps between buildings and they bathed Hange in light.

Her eyes wide, her mouth agape, Hange seemed to glow.

Levi wasn’t Hange and he could never guess exactly how it must have felt to be seeing it from her eyes. She was very much pregnant, utterly bored and her mind was a black hole of ideas. Many of them, ideas Levi would never be able to comprehend.

“We don’t know when the baby will be born,” Hange said.

“What?” Levi spat out in surprise. Hange had spoken up so abruptly, it had taken a long few seconds longer to process. And even with those few seconds, he still didn’t get it.

“We don’t know what day the baby will be born…” Hange repeated, more slowly that time. As if that would be enough to make Levi understand. “And I don’t mind when… but it would be nice to pick the time of day.”

“Why would you wanna do that?” Levi could think of a thousand possible reasons. With Hange though, it wasn’t a matter of what, it was a matter of ‘which reason.’”

Hange hummed. “Just a thought,” she said nonchalantly.

Hange never had ‘just thoughts’ though. With nothing much else to do though, Levi thought it worth a conversation. “Is there any specific time you want the baby to be born?”

“If I could pick?” Hange asked. She paused for a second. “I wanna give birth to the baby around sunset...right before nightfall.”

Sunset. Hange had said that word carefully.. In the silence that followed, Levi found himself foraging for some logical explanation for it. Hange always had a logical reason for anything, even the most random whims. “Why sunset?” Levi asked.

Hange didn’t speak immediately and Levi wasn’t wasting any time waiting. He looked for an answer elsewhere, in the way the setting sun had bathed her then in the way she glowed.

She was on fire again.

Years ago, she had burned alive then for a few days, she was dead. Or so, he thought she had died. Whatever magic the beast titan and the subsequent release of the curse did, it had left him that whole experience as just a painful memory of a very temporary loss. He could forget if he willed it.

“I heard… giving birth is so painful, it’s memorable,” Hange said. “If I give birth while looking out at the sunset, do you think I’ll forget…” She cocked her head to the side and whatever subtle smile on her face had faded into something more desolate.

Forget dying. Forget being on fire as the plane leaves? Right under the setting sun?

“Actually you know what, I don’t think I'll ever forget burning alive and falling into the ocean,” Hange dropped her shoulders a little lower, sliding down on the backrest of the bench. Her belly seemed bigger from that terribly uncomfortable position. “But when I look at the setting sun, I wanna remember something else.”

“Do memories work that way?” Does trauma work that way? Having lived a long life, Levi never really did forget trauma. Happy memories though sometimes had the power to superimpose themselves into some of his worst memories growing up.

Hange shrugged. “Maybe they do? All I know is when I see the setting sun, I don’t wanna think of death anymore. I wanna think of life.”

***

Ultimately babies are the ones who choose when to come out. The doctors and parents can only adjust.

Their case was no exception. It was an unpredictable process and Hange wasn’t doing anything to make it any more predictable.

Levi had done his own research on labor beforehand. Contractions were painful, excruciatingly painful and any sign of them should have been grounds for calling a midwife or a hospital.

The day it happened, Hange hadn’t been screaming though. She calmly told him to call a taxi and take her to the hospital. Any hins to whatever she had been feeling were subtle and Levi chose to grip the most obvious hint. Obvious hints, but in the grand scheme of things, they were still very subtle. He focused on the way her grip tightened, in between long intervals. He focused on the way her breath hitched as she sat back on the car seat.

“Levi, what time is it?” Her voice came out as a weak hush.

“Almost noon,” Levi said.

“Hopefully he doesn’t come too fast.” Hange looked out the window, her head bent back, maybe looking up at the sun. “What if he really does wait until sunset?”

“Labor can last hours apparently,” Levi whispered. He took one breath and spoke a little louder. “Hange, does it hurt?”

Eyes closed, breaths coming quicker, Hange spoke up. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Long intervals between episodes of pain became shorter and shorter with every development. They were given a room, a bed and everyone was taking great pains to keep Hange comfortable.

Levi stood guard, not even bothering to take a late lunch. Somehow, he never figured out what was comfortable to Hange. Sometimes, she sat up, sometimes she leaned back and sometimes she lay back on the bed. She was always fidgeting then changing positions and all Levi could do was adjust.

The rhythm of her breathing never evened out to something predictable.

He couldn’t blame her. Historia had told him that contractions felt like something was reaching inside her and twisting their gut. Sometimes that invisible hand was gripping her organs tightly enough to tear at it.

And the pain always came at regular intervals.

Hange was stoic though and Levi could never tell exactly how she felt. In those moments of reprieve, she was looking out the window. And when the pain came and went, she let out a hitch breath and grip the bed covers a little tighter.

To humor her even in the tense silence, Levi looked out the window too. If his own guess had been right, Hange was waiting for the sun to set. When he followed, thought too deeply into the minute movements of the sun, he found time continued to move albeit at a snails pace. He found that he was very much contented positioning Hange’s hands on his, and absorbing whatever strong grip that came with each contraction.

It was late into winter, the sun would usually set by four. An hour before four, Hange seemed tranquil. Levi started to entertain some pessimistic thoughts. “Hange?”

“Hm?” Hange didn’t look back at him.

“What if the baby doesn’t come out by sunset?”

“He’ll come out,” Hange said.

“How do you know?”

“I can feel it.” It soon followed, the small gesture that could have been all the pain Hange was willing to show. She clutched the blanket tighter with one shaking hand. Her jaw dropped, an exhale released and Hange closed her eyes. Then her face crumpled.

Levi could have sworn he saw tears. “Should I call the nurses?” His hand was halfway to the call button.

“No, don’t put me to sleep. I wanna experience… “ The sunset? The life? Hange still had the strength to shake her head and Levi suspected desperation was a major fuel.

That was enough for Levi to hesitate then sit back down on the chair next to the bed. Only an hour until sunset, and Hange was fighting.

***

Hange and Levi were both soldiers. They’ve both been through too much adversity, most of them unimaginable to ordinary folk.

Hange knew the pain of getting her back slammed against some crystal cave,the pain of a piece of metal ramming through her shoulder at high speed. Levi knew how it felt to be flung many feet into the air by an explosion, then land feet away from ground zero. Sick soldiers, or even lifeless soldiers caked with blood and dirt wasn’t at all a foreign sight for Levi either.

A long and colorful experience with violence or pain could only do so much to prepare Hange for the pain of human birth. It hadn’t done enough to subdue whatever turning sensation had settled in Levi’s stomach.

When Hange’s wracked with ragged breaths and choked sobs, Levi’s stomach turned. During those respites in between, they looked back out at the sun together, then they turned counting down until sunset into a game.

If one looked closely at the movement of the brightest streams of light, they could figure out for themselves how far the sun had already descended into the horizon. The light always started white. When it shifted to a subtle orange, it still told of an abundance of time. When the orange seemed to glow though, the bright shifts in color could have been screaming at them to hurry.

***

By whatever magic, or maternal instinct, Hange was right. By sunset, the baby was ready to come out.

There was no grand announcement nor grand celebration but Levi didn’t expect that anyway. He couldn’t help but wish though that the development had come a little less subtly.

Leading up to sunset, the nurses were suddenly coming to check on Hange too often. When Levi started to count, he estimated four to five minutes between each visit.

Around the time when the sun started to shift from a bright orange glow to a red one, when splashes of purple settled in the blue sky, a doctor visited.

The sky was beautiful, a very beautiful purple. It was the prologue to the beautiful sunset they had watched together in the balcony, the sunset Hange must have been dreaming of giving birth under.

But Hange wasn’t look at it.

She couldn’t look at it when too many things were happening at once. The doctor was explaining something about a feet first delivery, an umbilical cord that was falling out, and something inside her that was failing to dilate. Then he was suggesting a c-section.

Emergency surgery. If she wanted to save the baby, she had to get it out as soon as possible.

There were no yes or no questions to answer, no questions on preferences. All they understood was if they wanted the baby to survive, Hange had to consent to being wheeled to the emergency room, to be put to sleep and ultimately, to go under the knife.

The sky turned purple, the light blue almost completely blanketed over and the surgery was underway.

Was there a wide window in the surgery room? Levi asked himself for a second. He had followed while they wheeled her in just to take a peek. He was disappointed to find that there was none.

Alone in her hospital room, he allowed himself a sardonic smile. Of course, she wouldn't care, she was dead asleep. He walked towards the wide window, settling himself on one of the hospital chairs and stared out.

The setting of the sun was a very gradual process and it was an excruciatingly slow one. Levi couldn’t help but be just a little grateful though that it had been slow. The chaos that had ended with Hange under the knife had only been long enough for the sky to turn from a light blue to a more subtle purple. It was still early enough in the evening that the sun still peeked out from under the horizon etched by the urban sprawl.

The purple and the bright red still touched the streets and some of the more hidden corners still reflected the many shades of orange and red, too many of them to pick out. When Levi narrowed his eyes, focused on the red, he could have sworn the streets were on fire.

He looked back at the sky and traced the horizon. In the silence, he started to notice that when he focused on the right colors, the sky seemed to be on fire too. When he thought back to the right memories, the sky seemed to burn brighter, so bright he could almost hear it.

He heard everything from the rumbling of the titans, to the whirring of the airplane. When he made out the burning on the horizon, the small burning figment, he started to hear even the distant screams and slicing of the blade. He could never be too sure if it had been her.

Soon, he felt it, the weight of grief, the stiffness that came with death and the utter desolation and desperation that came with his mind trying to answer the question, What now?

All I know is when I see the setting sun, I don’t wanna think of death anymore.

At first, it had seemed like a strange comment to Levi. Hange though had a special talent of always being right, or at least always making sense in retrospect. Alone in the room, completely hypnotized by the horizon, Levi had to admit, when he saw the setting sun, when took time to think deeply into it, he saw death.

He tried to look away, in an attempt to focus instead on the dim corners of the hospital interior. The corners seemed to still catch the most fiery light and he still heard the rumbling, the slicing of blades. He sat back on Hange’s empty hospital bed and pondered for a second longer.

How long would he be seeing death? And reality might have been on a mission to answer him.

As soon as he took a deep breath then mustered the courage to find beauty at the end of the journey of the setting sun, he started to hear it just above the sound of the distant rumbling.

There was faint crying. There was a click of the door, the rolling of the sliding door. Then the crying was not so faint anymore. It was coming from right behind him.

“Mr. Ackerman, your son.” A nurse’s voice.

The cry was rough, ragged and it tickled at Levi’s ears but it sounded much louder than distant screams and the distant sounds of titan steps.

Life.

The baby was swaddled in a piece of cloth. He was small enough that Levi had to hold his arms close to himself to snugly cradle the child.

He admired the warmth of the blanket, the warmth of human touch and the profound way at which it had taken over every other feeling before. Suddenly, he wasn’t smelling the coast anymore or the smell of gasoline, he was smelling some strange smell, a mixture of sweet milk and honey, enough to pull at his lip and leave his eyes moist.

When he looked at the sunset again, he started to enjoy the gradual way at which the colors changed, he was starting to enjoy the way it bathed the dim room with some strange combination between orange and purple.

It was a beautiful evening outside and it would have been nice if Hange could see it too. “How’s Hange?” Levi asked. It had felt like he had been reflecting for a while.

The nurse was still behind him and it didn’t look like she had been waiting for a while. “She’s in post recovery.”

“How long will she be there?”

“An hour or so. I can bring you there.”

Levi took her up on the offer, the baby cradled on two arms. When he arrived there, Hange was fast asleep and Levi couldn’t help but ruefully note, the recovery room did not have a wide window.

***

Hange was still in and out of consciousness. Her eyes fluttered and her hand was propped lightly just above the wound. With the way she had turned to the window and the way her eyes opened just wide enough to show a faded glimmer, Levi sensed disappointment.

“Luke was born at sunset,” Levi said, just an attempt to console Hange. I wish you could have seen it. Was that the best thing to say? Before he could even mouth them, he stopped himself.

“How did the sunset look?” Hange asked.

“Like all sunsets.” If he couldn’t console her, he could at least sour grape with her.

“What colors?”

“Purple, blue…” Levi started.

“Orange? And red?” Hange completed. She turned to him, a weak grin on her face.

Levi only noticed then that he had been a little careful with his words. Did Hange still see death in the sunset? When she had taken down the titans, did she ever see the fire that engulfed her? “Do you want to imagine orange and red?”

Hange didn’t answer. Instead, she went for another question. “Was it beautiful?”

It was a simple question and Hange had asked it in such a genuine manner. Levi couldn’t lie. “It was beautiful. Very beautiful.”

“I would have liked to see it,” Hange said calmly. A weak wry smile graced her lips. Her eyes fluttered then fell towards her hands that lay limp on her stomach.

Before Levi could even find a way to console her, Hange had found one for herself. She turned slowly to the crib right next to the bed, to their son who was sleeping peacefully. She then relaxed.

Levi didn’t know how much more helpful he could be but it didn’t hurt to try. “Tomorrow, the sun will rise and tomorrow night, the sun will set again. We’ll see a hundred or even a thousand more sunsets with Luke,” he said. “And they’ll look as beautiful as the one I saw today.”

When Levi turned to the bed, he saw her, leaning further back on the bed, her eyes closed and her mouth fell to a more peaceful smile. “And I can’t wait to see them all,” Hange said. Her voice came out more as a weak hush.

When you see the sunset, do you still see death? Levi had said it as a whisper. It was a question he didn’t want to forget, a question he had been hesitant to ask but something he couldn’t read into Hange for himself. Sohe gambled.

“That’s what years of war does to us maybe. Maybe we won’t ever forget,” Hange said, the only proof that she was still alert and very much listening.

Guilt washed over Levi and he fell back on the chair right next to the bed and clutched her hand. Once again, Hange was right, he most likely would never forget the war either. But something as beautiful as the sunset, didn’t have to signify death.

“It might not be the sunset tomorrow or the sunset after that, but one day, you won’t look at the sunset anymore and see death. Luke and I… We’ll make more memories under the sunset. We’ll make sure of that.”

Hange didn’t respond. Her breath eventually evened out and whatever weak grip she had on his hand and on the bed covers just below eventually loosened.

Levi slipped his hand from underneath hers, stood up and turned to the clock. It took him a while but he eventually calculated at least twelve hours until sunrise.

Too long of a wait for most. He understood though that healing took time. And maybe when healing, they could always start with the sunrise.