#like the book felt very slow up until like the last 7 chapters | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

werdlewrites · 2 years ago

Text

Season of The Witch (Steve Harrington x OC)

Chapter Eleven: Need to Know

masterlist-about-patreon-ao3

UPDATED 7/21/24

Summar: “No,” falls from her tongue. Her friend's mouth is left hung agape, unsure of what he had heard at first as it’s slow to process - so confident she would jump at the chance to help at least try to solve this painful mystery. “What?” He stands from his place on the bed, closing the gap between them within the blink of an eye and despite there being only a few inches of difference to their height, it suddenly seemed like he was towering over her, the frustration radiating off of him so strongly it could be felt burning her skin. “This is Will we’re talking about.” Warnings: Blood, INTENSITY? Panic Word Count: 4,155 Do not repost without credit or permission.

The thing about pain is that you can never truly escape it.

You may break your leg, and while this pain is temporary, there will always be the memory of how it felt when it happened and in the hours it took to be diagnosed. In the weeks or months it took to fully heal in an uncomfortable cast, hobbling around in an attempt to keep up with your normal life. The world seemed to go far faster than you had ever realized until you were suddenly limited by the hurt.

When your heart is broken, it feels like every cartoon imagined. A shattered piece falls away, leaving emptiness in its wake that will never be filled, only mended to disguise the immediate danger. Heartache can last a lifetime, with chips falling away little by little, and unlike physical pain, these memories wait in the darkness, lashing out during your happier times, just to remind you that you’re still incomplete. Heartbreak was a box, and with every year, the circle inside of it grew smaller, taking longer to ricochet off the walls and shake the foundation. You are asked to live with this pain and endure it.

What is life without the aching reminder that you’re here while others have left you behind?

Autumn stands just at the edge of the driveway, letting that familiar pain sink in as she studies the two cars. One was her fathers, home from work early, ready to sniff out the weed that soaked through her clothes despite desperate attempts to disguise it. After the scolding, another prepared lecture would leave an impact. Frustrated words spilling out about classes skipped. The other car that rests on the curb was no doubt Jonathan's faded Ford. It sits cold, having been there for some time. By now, he was most likely hiding away in her room or sitting in the shared space with a very upset Ian, accusing the teen of being the cause of her behavior.

Shoulders straighten with a chin held just a little higher as she pushes forward, ready to take on whatever awaits her beyond that door. To sink back into the misery of Will’s disappearance and the added punishment her father prepared while impatiently waiting. The door clicks, gently swinging open to reveal a disturbingly quiet home. Evidence of people having been by recently with their shoes discarded at the door, her father's briefcase leaning up against the wall as if he had been too exhausted to carry it the full journey up toward his office.

Instead, he waits in the kitchen, a fine glass of whiskey hung from his fingers with his torso hunched over the island. The man's brow was furrowed, deep in thought. Autumn was fully convinced she could have slipped on by, gone unseen if she hadn’t insisted on resting her book bag just across from him. With the noise, he’s finally pulled out of whatever trance he had locked himself in, pondering over the events of the day. At first, neither had said a word to the other; his expression was unreadable, though obviously displeased. There’s a sudden shift, and she makes note of the way his lip turns up into a faint smile. “Long day?”

It was an unusual demeanor, leaving her unsettled to see him like this and nearly impossible to hold contact with him. Her eyes flickered towards the window, filled with the night sky, and back to his stare, uncomfortable and shaken. Autumn lets out a sigh, fingers tapping along the surface of the counter, pushing away the awkward distance between them that grew by the second. “The longest,” she replies simply, chewing at her lower lip until she swears the skin has been broken.

Her dad nods along, breaking his gaze from her to instead gesture towards the long stretch of stairs just on the other side of the hall. “He’s up there. We can talk later.” It had all been so unexpected, but so was her sudden behavior in skipping an entire day of school.

So with hesitant steps, she moves back, inching closer towards her escape, all the while keeping an eye on her father as if he may suddenly change his mind, but she successfully moves on. The girl's feet are practically flying up the stairs, searching for some relief in being with her friend again. She had anticipated to find him sitting in her bed or poking through the various plants that sat along the windowsill. Instead, he was hovering over her desk, sifting and looking rather frantic, with his large hand filled with a few stones he had plucked off of its surface.

He doesn’t react to her presence at first, so lost in himself that he doesn’t know she’s even come home until she clears her throat. Easily startled, he nearly drops the small handful and backs away from the desk, now bashful and even a little guilty. “H-hi,” he greets, folding in on himself in hopes of simply vanishing.

“Hey yourself,” Autumn replies with amusement, taking a few steps deeper into her haven. “Something I can help you find?”

Caught in the act; he’s flustered. The gears were visibly turning behind smokey brown eyes as they darted around the room, working through his thought process before allowing himself to speak and tumble over words. "I, uh,” his chest swells with breath to prepare for an explanation, but it never comes. His shoulders fall and slump, defeated, as he extends his hand outward to surrender the borrowed goods. “I need your help. I thought—I thought I knew enough t’get ready without you.”

A brow raises in curiosity, the stones curled up into her chest. “Ready? Ready for...what?”

Jonathan's gaze is locked on her, a hard swallow seen as his nerves build and bubble in his chest once more, a glass already full and threatening to pour over the moment there’s the smallest disturbance. “Alright, ah,” he stammers, running a hand along his face before finding a comfortable seat just at the edge of her bed, avoiding meeting her eyes as he begins to talk as if he were afraid of what she may say. “My mom got a phone call,” he begins. The silence hung heavy in the air, and he had hoped she would fill it, though she was patient, encouraging him to continue with her silence. He sighs once more. “She swears she heard Will-”

>“What?” The atmosphere is immediately changed, tipped over on its head, and Autumn finds herself leaning into it until she nearly stumbles forward.

“Yeah,” he says in a defeated tone, his eyes still lowered to the floor. “I don't—I don’t know if it was. She hasn’t exactly been all there, y’know?" His words trail off, finding shame in what he said, though he needed to say what was in his heart. There was no one but his family and Autumn to truly express himself to. “Not that I can blame her. But someone definitely called, and it freaked her out.”

The new information was slow to sink in, unsure of how to take it all, and for a moment, Autumn pictured Will at a payphone somewhere far away, looking for his mother, soaked to the bone. This familiar pain was what she had spent hours hiding away from, and that minimum relief allowed this moment to feel ten times heavier, crushing her chest with its unbearable weight. “What does this have t’do with me?”

Nervous palms begin to run along his knees as he finally looks up to his friend, lips pursed in wonder at whether he should even continue—if he should abandon this and go home to work something out on his own. “I just-I just want t’know...if we should keep looking.”

Abandonment.

Abandon Will, wherever he may be. The thought visibly pains his older brother. Dark eyes filled with sorrow as they fall to look beyond Autumn, too ashamed to meet her surprised gaze. Though she can’t say it’s entirely surprising, How long do you continue to look for someone missing when there are no clues left behind?

The longer the silence settles between them, the easier the pieces of the puzzle are put together as to why he was here—why he was gathering her things in desperation, though he had no real clue where to begin. Why does he find himself drowning in guilt for even wondering if they should look for the boy? Old nightmares and creeping visions flash before her, causing a stumble in her stance and leaving her to grip the door frame with force, waiting for the shock to settle. But a sickness begins to build in the pit of her stomach, bubbling up into her chest and burning as a whispered "no" falls from her tongue.

Jonathan’s mouth is left agape, unsure of what he had heard at first as it’s slow to process—so confident she would jump at the chance to help at least try to solve this painful mystery. “What?” He stands from his place on the bed, closing the gap between them within the blink of an eye. Despite there being only a few inches of difference in their height, it suddenly seemed like he was towering over her, the frustration radiating off of him so strongly that it could be felt burning her skin. “This is Will we’re talking about.” He spits out, clearly in disbelief and growing more upset with each passing second. “I just-I just want t’know where he is. I need t’know something. Anything!”

The girl remains frozen under his gaze, petrified by the thought of disappointing him and by potentially seeing that familiar, empty space again once she closes her eyes. Or, if she had succeeded in what he asked for and lost a piece of herself in the process. Ruined and haunted by what was left of the younger Byers. What Autumn wanted was to lay in bed and forget the day had ever happened. From Tommy accusing her of the unthinkable in front of the entire school, to Steve “The Hair” Harrington coming to an awkward rescue, and the inevitable argument waiting for her downstairs.

But as she sees Jonathan’s body practically deflate in defeat, turning away to grab his bag and mumbling, “Forget it,” her response comes without hesitation, pained to see her friend in such a state.

“I’ll do it.” The sudden change of heart nearly gives him whiplash as he turns to look back at her, his eyes now glimmering with hope and the corner of his lips curling into a small smile.

“You will?” Autumn feels too ill to speak, her anxiety rising quickly as she thinks of what’s to come, so she only nods in response, her grip on the wall tightening until there’s an audible crack in her knuckles.

“Thank you.”

With pleading eyes and an exhausted father unable to fend off two teenagers with their hearts set on a goal, it was fairly easy to convince Ian of one more night of freedom before he most likely grounded her. The two gathered their things, with the promise of Autumn returning home to face the consequences of her actions. By the time the sun was beginning to set, they were making their way through the familiar wooded area.

The teen girl allowed her friend to charge forward with his flashlight, her hesitant steps giving extra time to mentally prepare for what was to come if anything at all. Or maybe she had hoped he would take it back. On their journey to Castle Byers, she would wait for Jonathan to turn around and change his mind, suggesting they go home and make a plan to find his brother another way. Make more flyers or call any missed neighbors—anything to spare her mind. But they march onward until the fortress comes into view, stealing her breath away.

Various gemstones and crystals were laid out accordingly to encourage an easier transition into this hell created for her. The lingering shadow just over the girl’s shoulder was both enticing to pique her curiosity and haunting, just enough to keep fingers concealing tearful eyes.

Some stones were meant to help hold her down and ground her as she walked out into the unknown. Giving her a figment of a hand to hold and pull back on when she needed safety. Finally, a candle at the center of it all, carefully lit by the lighter she found, stashed away in her car. There was incoherent grumbling as she thought it had been lost during her bathroom panic attack.

In her hands, paper. The colored surface is just barely visible under the fading light of the day, but look closely, and you will find not just scribbles but a delicate piece of artwork. Made with care and passion by none other than the missing boy. She can visualize him inside this place or at the table with his many tools, bringing his fantasy worlds to life, leaving behind a look of sorrow in her eyes as she looks at Jonathan. “Are you sure?” Nothing is spoken; a hesitant nod is his only reply, paired with a hard swallow to prepare for whatever may come, no matter the consequences. Especially that of his dear friend, as desperation seemed to push all other thoughts aside.

And so she does as she has with the others before him—with every lost soul looking to be found by a loved one. Her eyes are closed, and her hands at first kept the drawing just in her lap as deep breaths helped to calm her spirit. But the deeper she falls into this familiar state, the less control she has. Chilled fingers would begin to act on their own, tracing along the lines and envisioning the colors reaching out to tickle her skin. They sink deep like a tattoo and crawl through her body like vines, working their way up her arms until the rainbow of colors pushes their way into her eyes. A momentary flash of brilliance in the darkness was so alarming that, for a moment, she wondered if Jonathan had shone his light in her face by accident. Irritated, she opens her eyes to find her friend long gone. Along with the trees, every fallen leaf and their rustling sounds as the wind carried them away.

Autumn had slipped away peacefully into that horrific void, with not a sound to grace her ears or a sign of life as far as she could see out into the abyss. Only his drawing had accompanied her along this journey, their vibrance standing out like a sore thumb in all of the negative space. Her knees are weak as her body is forced to stand, walking out towards nothing with hopes of seeing something—anything. Fingers would twist at the paper, her stomach turning at what could lay just over the darkest horizon.

Time drifts on; it is impossible to count the minutes, though she had tried times prior. A watch froze on her wrist, allowing dread to settle in long ago about the possibility of remaining in this state for days if someone hadn’t been there. And with no telling of how far Autumn had gone if anywhere at all, a heavy sigh cascades from her lips as she comes to a sudden stop. Tired eyes fall to look over the drawing of a wizard riding horseback through a field, thinking of how he always imagined himself in this man’s place on a mystical adventure with his friends. It only tears at her heart more. An adventure ended too soon, never to see the final chapter of a long tale constantly being rewritten. “What happened t’you?” Autumn asks, words delicate and soft, drifting through the thin air with ease, echoing all around her until it dissipates.

“Help,”

It was weak, painful, and so close that the girl could have sworn this plea was crawling up her neck. She turns on her heel the moment it tickles the microscopic hairs, eyes wide and searching for its source, only to find nothing. Familiar feelings of a past time come flooding back of someone calling out to her, much more fearful and panic-inducing. This time, there was frailty with distortion to bend any ability to judge the character. Was it the young boy? Or was another soul lost along the way?

“Will?” she calls out, much louder this time, and immediately begins to trace her steps backward, following the tugging feeling in her gut as that same pitiful cry continues to echo in the air. Soon, her feet are running after it, or so she hopes. “Show me where you are!” she pants, her chaotic footsteps nearly drowning out the sounds of a separate voice slipping in, still distorted but with a much different tone, clearly someone else as it whispers,

“Traitor.”

One by one, it builds. There’s soon a heavy cloud filled with angered and broken voices, creating a thick veil to shield her judgment and leaving the girl lost in its chaos. She was no longer running to the unknown, her ankles now throbbing with sharp turns, trying to outrun the storm that seemed to surround her. She’s desperate for a moment of peace and begs for it to end with heavy breaths. It felt as though they were looking for someone—looking for her. There were messages to be delivered and deeper desires to be granted. Wishes to move on or to move backward. To find life in their old homes, now sold by their grown children. If Will was one of them, he was buried deep under it all, and after running breathlessly for an unknown time, she somehow stepped just over the bounds.

Like the wall of a rainstorm, with her feet just stepping out onto dry land where the sun shines, dark clouds are now behind her as the weather slowly migrates. Their pleas fall silent in an instant, and Autumn is left with dizzying relief as well as frustration now that she has been left with nothing. An empty hand runs along her face, pulling at the tense skin while the other balls up into a fist, risking tearing the drawing she admired.

Just at her back, a new presence had slowly crept into existence. Washing in like water, though unheard and unseen. It’s felt as pressure builds against her, threatening to knock the girl forward as her knees become weakened. Feeling uneasy, there was a resistance to turn and face it. Tired of this chase yet also not ready for what could be reaching out for her. It’s slow and cautious. The heavy thud of a heartbeat was felt up in her throat, matching the pulse she could feel trembling through the ground. It was choking her without mercy before it all seemed to plummet, burning away into nothing but ash and leaving her nauseous and aching.

A vision of the past had returned to her—a tear through the darkness, filled with anger as its fiery glow slowly became more painful to witness in this vacant space. This hole that ripped through her mind, whatever it may have been, appeared much smaller. Small enough for her to kneel to its level, inspecting it closer despite bubbling fear and the ringing in her ears telling her to go. Turn away and cast out this haunting image.

There’s movement inside; it's difficult to make out its shape as it cowers behind layers of debris. Though the girl should find this frightening enough to pull back, she instead reaches forward with her mind set on the possibility that this shadow could be Will.

A piercing scream breaks through the eerie silence—something else that seems to have followed her, though unknown. It shakes her down to the bone, her body twisted to cover her backside for fear something had snuck up while she was preoccupied—something grotesque enough to match such a horrific sound. But only a lonely space greets her, and while she should be thankful, there’s a present, sickening feeling. A false sense of security in a place to call home, untrusting arms that once were a warm embrace. This place, as unnerving as it may be, was once familiar, and now pieces seem to have shifted, becoming unrecognizable and uncomfortable.

The girl was no longer welcomed in this space within her mind.

It all happens so quickly. The guttural, panic-inducing clicking just at her ear lured her attention back toward the tear. Each pulse caused the red to shine brighter, like a heartbeat. Pushing and pulling every ounce of blood to continue its survival.

And then it breaks through the barrier. A shrill cry echoes all around her as what she could only describe in those few seconds as a long, gray arm bursts through. Thin, veined, and full of intent as it loosely latches onto her wrist. Autumn was already stumbling far back, unable to process what was happening and acting on the only instinct that screamed loud enough: run. Her body is twisting away from the nightmare spilling out onto the floor, palms pressed into the surface and aching as she pushes herself away in blind panic, escaping out into the abyss with a force she never knew was possible until this moment.

She could feel the thundering pressure in her heels as they bound against the black but heard nothing as the sound of its echoing scream in the distance seemed to encapsulate her. Fire filled her chest, her heart a molten hot core, threatening to burst from pressure and leaving her lungs filled with painful, dry ash. The horrific screams in the distance never dissipated, no matter how far she ran—like she was locked in a dream, stuck on a treadmill with a nightmare just at her heel. Inescapable.

And buried beneath it, a familiar voice calling her name. There was clear panic and worry. She continues to race forward into this personal hell, hoping it will at least keep some distance between herself and the being while she calls out to Jonathan. Autumn’s attention desperately shifts to his voice, focusing. Gradually, she can begin to feel his firm hands on her shoulders, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises in their wake.

Her eyes fall shut, using every shred of strength she held onto in hopes of reaching out to him. That same burning heart seeks him out, desperate for something familiar, until suddenly cold air fills her lungs, dousing the flame.

She’s left gasping, eyes wide and vision spinning, with hands frantically grabbing onto anything they could find. Twisting at pieces of fabric as her friend tries to steady her. He continues to call her name in the dark. “It’s okay, you’re okay! I’ve got you,” he reassures, though there’s fear dripping from every word, uncertainty, and an unsettling lack of comfort despite his iron grip on her. Their chests soon connect in a warm embrace, needing more reassurance. “You’re here,” he says again, hushed and gentle with attempts to soothe an erratic heartbeat.

Blood is flowing far too fast for her to focus until the heat between them pricks at her fingertips like a thousand bees, giving life and pain all at once to help guide a spiraling, aching mind back home.

The girl is weak in his arms, slumping forward in his hold as things begin to settle. Flashes from only moments ago play on a loop just behind her tired eyes, only vanishing as Jonathan shakes her back to reality, worried she is slipping away from him. “Autumn, you with me?”

She hums in reply, blinking away the heavy fog before truly taking in the sight of her fearful friend, barely illuminated by his fallen flashlight, the two teenagers now hidden away in the night sky. She’s uncertain if it’s all in her head at first. Her eyes narrowed in on his features, and made note of the blood smeared along his cheek. Without question or hesitation, a hand reaches out to wipe it away, though the action causes him to flinch back from her touch in confusion. “What happened t’you?” She questions.

He blinks, almost dumbly back at her. Unbelieving of her shifted attention. “M-me? Autumn,” he trails off, shifting in his position on the ground, discomfort overwhelming him. “Y-your nose,”

She reacts without thought, touching just above her lip, where she can begin to feel warmth spilling just over the peak. The taste of metal quickly coated her tongue, and her fingers were soon stained with red. No words find her; thoughts are swept away in the chaos of everything, leaving Autumn in a state of feeling numb as life trickles down her knuckles.

“Come on,” Jonathan starts up, shifting so that he is instead crouched before her, arms hooked around her to help carry her away from Castle Byers. “I’ve got stuff in my car t’clean you up”

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x original character #steve harrington angst #steve harrington slow burn #jonathan byers x oc #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x original character #will byers

14 notes · View notes

cafalla · 9 months ago

Text

2024 READING - COMPLETED BOOK 7/12

After waiting a few days following my last reading post, I got my hands on the sequel to Flame in the Mist!

It's been a few days since I've finished Smoke in the Sun (408 pages), and I have to say, I really had fun with this story. Both books were such page turners for me!

I don't normally like hardcover books, but I had to spend the extra dollar on thrift books to get the hardcover edition. The paperback edition offered didn't have this beautiful cover art, and I wanted both of my books to match appearance wise!

I do intend to keep these around, rather than re-donate them. I can see myself revisiting them in a couple years, after I've forgotten some of the details lol. And the books simply look pretty, even on the spine.

I did not overstay my time with this story, and I felt satisfied by the end. Some book series can drag on and on over multiple books, and I find myself losing interest by the 3rd book or so. But that's just me.

I enjoyed this second book. However, because of the circumstances of this second half of the story, I couldn't help but notice I was missing what I loved about the first book - the interactions between Mariko and Okami. They are kept apart from each other for most, is not practically all of the second book, save a few short meet-ups.

Their few moments they did have together were great and full of tension, and the epilogue was very sweet. I just wish we had a little more time with them at the end, when they finally were able to freely be together. I guess I wanted a more drawn-out reunion to make up for them hardly being together for this book.

I did enjoy the scenes with Mariko and Raiden though. Honestly I would've liked to see a bit more of their development...it felt like Raiden warmed up to her too quickly, but that's just me. I live for romance and slow burns lol, I always want more.

Strangely enough my main problem was the amount of editing errors and typos I came across, particularly in the last few chapters of the book.

Tensions were high and dialogue was intense...then I'd come across an extra period at the end of a sentence. Roku's name was written as Roka once, and it stopped me dead in my tracks with confusion until I realized they were talking about Roku. Ranmaru was once spelled as Ranmaruao or something like that at one point.

It was very distracting for me, especially when I was reading so fast because I was engaged in the end game. Ah well. I'd still recommend these if the plot of the first book sounds even remotely interesting to you!

—

Yay, I've hit 2k pages read!

I also finally did go on that thrift book hunt. My to-read pile is now thoroughly stocked up! I've already started my next adventure. x

—

Total books read: 7 Total pages read: 2,232

#txt #2024 reading #smoke in the sun #renee ahdieh #reading

0 notes

lilyharvord · 2 years ago

Text

Blade Breaker Live Read

CHAPTER 22

If I do not get Eristan fucking this chapter, I’m rioting.

I AM PLEASED TO REPORT THE RIOT IS CANCELED UNTIL FUTHER NOTICE. AT THIS TIME I WILL BE SCREAMING FOR TEN HOURS

FUCKING HELL, THEIF, OBVIOUSLY IS CANCELED. WE NOW WORSHIP:

“That’s what you are, mine.” and “Does that make you mine?”

also, RONIN CAN GET FUCKED ✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻✌🏻

CHAPTER 23

I’m very curious to know if there are red flashes of What Waits in Corayne’s eyes. I know she hasn’t chosen him like Taristan but I wonder if in essence they are connected to him as he is to them.

CHAPTER 24

LISTEN, there is nothing hotter than a character yelling at another in their native tongue to stay alive. I want for nothing more.

CHAPTER 25

Someone push the easy button please, that battle felt so short and managed so well XD But also like, What Waits really just sort of let her have the win. That smells fishy, but I’m not sure what kinda fish it smells like.

CHAPTER 26

NOT SIGIL LITERALLY NOT KNOWING THE NAME OF THE MAN TRYIGN TO KILL THEM ALL. I’M DEAD.

Ah, see that’s why they got to close the Spindle..... cause Taristan is off opening his next one XD he’s really out there poking holes in the ship just for shits and gigs at this point.

I don’t know why I was under the impression and Dom and Sorasa would have a relationship that actually builds this book. I WANTED THEM TO HAVE MOMENTS. Their moments have been so small, they are less than crumbs, GIVE THEM TO ME VICTORIA

CHAPTER 27

JESUS CHRIST. ERIDA. My love... I just have this twisting feeling in my gut that What Waits is slowly twisting her mind, making her more paranoid etc... because tbh she really is so paranoid now.

^^^ me being a huge supporter of women’s rights, and more importantly, women’s wrongs... but also worrying about Erida on a deep level because she really does feel like a woman on the edge 😬

CHAPTER 28

I LITERALLY LOVE SORASA. She was honeslty like, welp, you wanna leave, you’re gonna have to come take your sword from me, and based off how that went last time you’re not going anywhere any time some. What a fucking QUEEN, a LEGEND.

ALSO: “you’d think I’d be used to this by now.” “Sorasa?” “Death, though I suppose they are interchangeable.”

THERE IT IS, OH FUCK THERE IT IS. 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 🥰 that’s my ship, slowly but surely leaving the harbor... with some holes and definitely sinking a bit, but it’s SAILING.

I’ll allow Corayne and Andry to be a ship for the rest of this stupid chapter just to catch even a GLIMPS of Dom and Sorasa interacting. Crumbs victoria, I’m begging for crumbs at this point.

CHAPTER 29-32

LISTEn, okay listen. It was good, there was so much to unpack. Like, too much to feel/deal with. I mean WHAT am I supposed to do with that ending. But also like... why? Like why did they all split up? I get that it’s supposed to be sort of Lord of the Rings kinda thing but I dont know. Like why did Sigil go back? Why did Valtik take Andry? I get why Dom stayed, and I get why Sorasa stayed, but like... what the fuck of Corayne supposed to do now? Like just sort of hang out? XD

Also, lets all just... take a second to try not to kill victoria over the bury your gays... I’m smelling a fucking pattern, and I don’t like the pattern I’m smelling. I really was sitting there like, um, okay wait what? 😑 I just dont get the whole black knight thing either! It comes out of no where, there is just negative explanation, and then we use this black hole of a plot device to kill off a character that we got in my opinion so little of. Why is did this knight literally leave Ridha dying? I dont understand. It just felt like Victoria tried and failed to pull at my heart strings with that ending. I just sat there going, okay wait what? I mean I guess its set up for book 3 but it feels shaky. The whole ending kinda felt that way. We know so little about Ronin’s “gifts” and Valtik is a black box too. I just, *sigh* am I gonna read book 3? Maybe. I dont know, I need to reassess some things. 😒

#(*ask lily*)#(*shut up lily*)#(*lily live reads blade breaker*)#blade breaker #RB2 #realm breaker #it was okay #like the book felt very slow up until like the last 7 chapters #and the ended was a little chaotic #I need to think about this series now #I think I got lost somewhere in the world building

8 notes · View notes

wishesunderthestars · 4 years ago

Text

Eunoia // Ch. 12

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

Pairings: Hybrid! BTS x reader

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

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

Word Count: 18.1k+

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

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was the same now.

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

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

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

An earthquake. A fucking earthquake.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, don’t go,” Jimin whined.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And yet your chest was tight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Have a nice stay,” the receptionist said.

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

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

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

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

Two rooms. Right.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi…

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

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

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

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

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

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

Belly full, he trudged to the second level.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you know about Greek mythology?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t talk to him.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A whistle made you turn around.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would like that,” he whispered.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Jungkook repeated in a breath.

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

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

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

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

“But it wasn’t the same.” Jungkook laid his head on his hand. “You looked different there,” he said. “You looked powerful, like you could do anything. Everyone looked at you like you had all the answers.”

“It was a good day, I guess. It isn’t always like that. I might look confident and like I have everything under control all the time but that’s far from the truth.”

For all of your fame and the praise you received, you did make mistakes, you got stuck and felt helpless against some problems. Not everyone listened to you and you got into arguments with the executive producers sometimes. And you weren’t always the one who was right.

“Looking confident is half of the job, even when you don’t feel like it. It’s one of those situations where ‘fake it till you make it’ is a requirement. When you want to be heard you have to look and act like you are sure of what you’re doing, especially when you are a young woman at an important position. If you don’t, people begin to doubt you and if they doubt you, they will begin to talk over you and disregard your opinions. That was the first lesson I learnt on this job.”

At seventeen, you had been in charge of directing “Land of the Gods” and it wasn’t all smooth sailing, much less at the beginning. You were young, too young for most of them. You couldn’t direct such a project they said. They questioned your every move and decision, every correction you made and everything you said to the actors during a scene. They didn’t take you seriously until halfway through filming and even then they didn’t hesitate to question your authority. A constant battle of wills.

But it had gotten you here. You couldn’t complain.

“You’ve done so many things,” Jungkook said as if in awe. “All those shows and movies. And they are all so good. You are so talented. I could have never achieved what you have even if I wasn’t…” He left the sentence hanging.

You adjusted your position, laying on your forearm. “I don’t believe that, I think you would be marvelous at whatever you did. You have the dedication and that’s half of the job done. About me…” You let out a small chuckle. “I was very young when I started, I’m still young considering my profession, and I had so many ideas. I still have so many of them.” Or you used to, before the buzz in your brain became just noise. “And I don’t want to wait so long the industry gets tired of me, I have to take advantage of the light as long as it’s on me.”

“I don’t think they can get tired of you, not when your movies and shows are… like that. I couldn’t get tired of them,” Jungkook said. “It’s just- I’m not-” Frustrated, he cut himself off. “You work too much. I’m just… When was the last time you had a break? An actual break without working in any form.”

You opened your mouth to answer and closed it again. It certainly wasn’t this year and it wasn’t last year either. When you had taken a break to buy and decorate the house, you had been answering calls about work when you had been choosing the paints for the walls and writing scripts while you discussed floor plans. Break for you wasn’t a time you didn’t work but rather a time they couldn’t call you to the offices or the set.

“It’s been a while,” you said in the end. “I’ve got a lot of things going on, I don’t really have the time to take a break. I can’t leave them hanging, they rely on me.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t. Not so much.”

But that’s how it has always been for as long as you could remember. You were involved in every single part of the process, in every decision, from the scripts, to casting, to the set and costume design, to the actual filming, the post-production and the editing. Supervising and making sure that everything was right. That was your charm, that was one of the reasons you were one of the most sought-after directors in Hollywood. Each project was a part of yourself. If you let those responsibilities go, what would that mean for you? What would they say about you?

The air-conditioning made a small sound as the room reached the desired temperature. The setting wasn’t too low, a pleasant coolness replacing the stifling heat. The thick walls of the hotel kept the heat of the day trapped inside, something that would be very beneficial in winter but a lot less so in spring nearing summer.

“Anyway, I think we’ll be done in a few days,” you said. “We’ll probably be home by the end of the week. The new plans have been drawn and there is only one more meeting I have to attend and that’s more for appearances’ sake than anything else. The rest is up to the crew here.”

Jungkook’s smile wavered. “So soon? Don’t you have any more work? The people here seemed to need you.”

“They don’t need me, there is nothing more I can offer them. My place right now is in Los Angeles, that’s where they need me.” You nudged his foot with yours, your knees were close enough to touch every time you moved. “But that’s not what you’re nervous about, is it?”

Jungkook shook his head, hiding half of his face in the pillow. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Kookie…” You nudged his foot again until your legs were intertwined underneath the thin sheets. “Staying here won’t help anyone. You have to talk to him.”

Jungkook closed his eyes as if the conversation pained him. “He shouldn’t want to talk to me.”

“But he does. You know he has been asking for you,” you said.

“He stopped.”

“Because you never replied. Doing this, pulling away and ignoring him, you’re hurting him more than whatever you feel guilty for. You didn’t see how sad he was every time you didn’t show up for a meal or when he called for you and you ignored him. You’re hurting him and I know that isn’t what you want so why do you keep doing it?”

A sob clawed out of Jungkook’s throat and he tried to muffle it with his fist. Your eyes widened at the sound, instinctively pulling the younger boy into your arms. He didn’t fight you, holding on to you like you were the only thing keeping his afloat, hiding his face in your neck as the sobs he couldn’t suppress fell from his lips.

“What… What I did to him was h-horibble. I-I took adva-advantage of him,” Jungkook chocked out as his tears dampened your skin. “And I know, I know he’s going to forgive me. But I don’t want him to. He shouldn’t. He shouldn’t forgive-” A sob cut him off. “I don’t deserve forgiveness.”

You run your hands through his hair, scratching gently at the base of his bunny ears, something that used to calm him down. “Baby… You should let him have that choice, you can’t take it away from him.”

“I can’t forgive myself,” he muttered, desperation and heartbreak seeping into his voice like water through the cracks of a dam until it breaks.

“If Jimin can forgive you then you can work towards forgiving yourself. All I know is that you love each other too much to continue like this.”

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

It was the fifth day you were gone. Seokjin had been keeping track, the equivalent of another line engraved on the wall of a cell. He had been going to sleep and waking up alone in a bed that felt too large for one person. He had added more blankets and stuffed animals decorating embellishing his nest but it did nothing for the feeling of emptiness covering it like a veil.

You called every day and texted them religiously, it was more than he could have expected but much less than what he craved. Jungkook sent photos of the hotel suite and of every place he visited with short captions. Seokjin smiled as his heart constricted.

It was the fifth day you were gone and he was sitting at the large table in the back garden, drinking tea at the time he would have been bringing yours before you had to go back to work. Jin didn’t consider himself a clingy person. He was loyal and protective of the people he loved, he obeyed his past owners and he took care of them. But this was new. It had been five days, the number didn’t change but Jin felt like it had been much longer than that. When his past owners left it wasn’t for long, less than two weeks, he didn’t have the time to miss them. He hadn’t missed them. Two weeks. Five days.

Jungkook would be nagging at him by now, tugging his arm or foot or whatever part of him he could get and if Jin didn’t give in the bunny hybrid would sprawl himself next to the older with his head in his lap. Despite Seokjin warnings about getting splashed with tea or coffee in the face, Jungkook stayed there.

If you were back from work, a rare occurrence, you would insist you all spent that time together. Like a family.

Family. Such a peculiar word. It was one of those words Seokjin couldn’t grasp the real meaning of. He was a hybrid, he didn’t have parents, the one who had given birth to him had delivered him to the scientists earning a large amount of money for her services. His first owners had trained him harsher than a pet and treated him like a servant or a living piece of decor. It didn’t matter if he’d thought of them as his family to feel better for himself, they owned him and they didn’t let him forget.

He didn’t know what having a family felt like. But he guessed it felt a lot like the mornings before you left for work and Jungkook was bickering with Jimin about how much he could eat while Namjoon was smirking into his coffee.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

Seokjin startled, the mug trembling dangerously in his hands. Another hand enveloped his to steady it. “How do you do that? I almost had a heart attack.”

Namjoon smiled sheepishly. “You aren’t the first one to say that, about the heart attack. I’ll try to make more noise next time.”

There was only a tiny bit of tea left at the bottom of the mug so Seokjin placed it on the table to avoid any more surprises that could threaten its survival. “Are you going somewhere?” he asked, looking at the black backpack Namjoon was wearing.

“I’m going for a walk in the forest. Would you like to join me?”

“Like this?” he gestured to his casual attire.

“Maybe you should wear different shoes,” he said referring to the slippers he was wearing.

Seokjin was tempted to say no, sugar gliders might be native to forests but he didn’t have the same ease among trees. But he was tired of being in his own company and something inside him was screaming to go and be with his pack. After all, it was impossible to not give into Namjoon’s dimples.

“Okay, I’ll come with you. Just don’t lead us so far away we won’t be able to come back.”

Namjoon’s smile widened as Jin left to change his shoes. His sneakers were in a box under his bed. He had worn them only once because he preferred wearing his slippers in the house or the gardens. These sneakers were the ones he had on when you had gone to the lake before you had to go back to work and be away for most of the day.

The wolf hybrid was waiting in the back garden for him by the curtain of vines with the purple blooms. The mug was nowhere in sight.

“Ready?” Namjoon asked him.

“Ready,” Seokjin said, not paying any mind to the fluttering in his stomach.

Namjoon pulled the curtain of vines aside, the path stretching ahead. The forest was alive in spring, trees green and tall, creating shade for the small creatures roaming around to hide from the sun. And when a few sun-rays slipped through the spaces between the branches and the leaves, they looked like a touch from the gods.

Namjoon navigated the forest with practiced ease and Seokjin had a feeling the wolf hybrid knew exactly where they were going. He just hoped Jimin wouldn’t look for them while they were gone, but knowing Namjoon he had probably already told Jimin. Or Jimin could call them. Seokjin wasn’t used to having his own phone and often he forgot he had the device.

Staying close to Namjoon, he kept his eyes on the ground. A poor attempt to keep his tripping to the minimal. But the forest was conspiring against him. Roots, stones, sticks, everything he could trip over was in his path.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

Namjoon stopped, turning to look at him. He smirked. “It’s a surprise.”

“No, I prefer no surprises,” Jin said. Rock. He stepped over it, avoiding a possible humiliating fall. “Tell me where we’re going. Is it far?”

“Not too far.” Not too far for Namjoon could be totally different from Seokjin’s idea of not too far. “I swear to you we aren’t getting lost today. I know this part of the forest like the back of hand and I have a good sense of direction. See?” He pointed to the direction of a large tree on his right. “That’s north,” he pointed to the opposite direction, “and that-”

Before he could finish, Seokjin had tripped over a protruding root. He hadn’t seen it, being too focused on Namjoon. He let a shriek as he tumbled to the ground, scratching his hands as they came in contact with the ground fist.

Namjoon called his name but he hadn’t been fast enough. He grasped Seokjin’s elbows pulling him up so he was sitting instead of laying face down on the dirt.

“Are you alright?” Namjoon asked, kneeling next to him, and Seokjin felt heat travel to his face and his chest tightening. He had an urge to flee and forget that had happened. Namjoon didn’t give him the chance though. He took his hands in his, turning them over and inspecting the damage. Dirt was clinging on the flesh and Namjoon blew on them to make some it go away. “We need to clean this.” He pulled out a water bottle from his backpack and poured water on his hands. It did sting a little but Seokjin was used to much worse than this.

Thin lines were etched on his palm, none of them bleeding. His hands had taken most of the burnt of the fall. The pride he had been piecing back together hurt more than his body did.

“We should go back,” Namjoon said, letting his hands go. Seokjin mourned the loss then reprimanded himself for it. “Maybe coming here wasn’t a good idea.”

“I’m fine,” he said. He didn’t like the frown on Namjoon’s face. “We don’t have to go back. I don’t want to go back.” He cleared his throat. His face, neck and ears felt impossibly hot.

Namjoon regarded him with careful eyes. “Are you sure? Does it hurt anywhere?”

“Really, I’m fine,” he repeated. He put one hand on the ground to steady himself and get back on his feet. It didn’t work very well because as soon as Namjoon saw him moving he was helping him up supporting most of his weight. “It wasn’t painful, more embarrassing than anything else,” Seokjin muttered. Despite the low tone, Namjoon heard him and his face smoothed. “Let’s go. We will never get to that place you want before nightfall at this rate.”

Namjoon chuckled shaking his head. “If you say so.” Seokjin expected him to start walking but instead he laced their fingers together. “Is this okay? I don’t want you falling again. If you trip again I’ll keep you up or at least we’ll fall together.”

Seokjin huffed out a laugh, lightheaded. Namjoon wasn’t distant but he wasn’t open with his affection like Jimin or Jungkook or even you and feeling his hand in his had ignited something inside him he was struggling to bury.

They held hands all the way to the secret destination. Seokjin tripped a couple more times, the rocks and the roots were still there and Namjoon was too distracting, but he kept his balance. Namjoon held on his hand tighter whenever he lost his footing and he allowed himself to consider it for a moment before banishing the idea.

The walk wasn’t too long and as the trees thinned out a little, a few large rocks emerged from the ground. They had climbed higher than the level of the house, the forest and the lake stretching under them. On the side the Castle peeked between the trees and the road leading to the city.

Namjoon helped him up the rock while he complained for the sake of it. They sat down to rest and Namjoon offered him the bottle of water he had used before, plenty of water was left inside. Seokjin insisted they shared it, he had already used half of it on him anyway.

“You like being outside so much, you have walked through most of the forest. You go on walks every day. Why don’t you go out with Y/N? Or around the neighborhood?” he asked. Namjoon wasn’t someone who could be contained in a house, he needed to be outside, and the forest looked too small for him.

Namjoon crossed his hands over his bent knee. “Being in the forest is easier. I can’t explain it but it’s familiar territory. Outside the forest, outside the house, that’s different. I know the streets of Los Angeles, I’ve spent more time on them than I would have liked. And now things are different but those streets are the same. I don’t think I’m ready to go back there alone.”

Seokjin’s heart constricted at the reminder of what the three hybrids he held so dearly had been through. He was spoiled, he couldn’t have survived a life in the streets. But if he was with them… If he was with them maybe it would would have been worth it.

It was a dangerous world for lone hybrids, people were eager to take advantage of them and hybrid services were always lurking in large cities like Los Angeles. Going outside alone could be an invitation for harassment from a few sick people who thought they were entitled to hybrids’ lives because humans created them, who thought they were lesser. Seokjin hadn’t been allowed to be alone outside, his owners believed it was indecent and disrespectful for hybrids to walk alone or stay alone.

“Do you want to go outside in the city?” Namjoon asked.

Seokjin hugged his knees. “I wouldn’t know where to go or what to do. I’ve never been out alone.”

Namjoon nodded. “That’s alright. It was nice being out for Spring Cleaning, I saw the city in a different light.”

Seokjin smiled, for him it hadn’t been only the city he had seen in a different light. “I would like to go out one day.”

“I would like that too,” Namjoon said softly.

But Seokjin didn’t think of going alone. He thought of being with Namjoon holding his hand so they wouldn’t lose each other or an excited Jungkook hopping around with Jimin chasing him.

Namjoon’s phone beeped with a message and he pulled it out of his backpack to read it. A smile spread on his face at whatever he was seeing. Seokjin wanted to lean closer and look at what was making him smile but he held himself back. There were only three people it could be from.

“Jungkook is playing her assistant,” Namjoon said, turning the screen so Seokjin could take a look at the photo. Jungkook was looking to the side, probably at someone talking to him, carrying two folders and a few loose papers. Seokjin’s heart softened at the sight, Jungkook looked content there. Excited and a little confused.

Seokjin took the phone in his hands. “I’m sure he insisted on carrying them for her. Doesn’t she have an assistant?”

Namjoon nodded. “Yeah, Will. But I’m not sure he’s that kind of assistant.”

“Maybe she should keep Jungkook on set, he could carry anything she wanted,” he joked. Their bunny could pick up all of them without getting tired, Seokjin had been his victim enough times to know that.

Jungkook had been doing better, his messages were more frequent and he talked more on the phone. He had been doing better but Seokjin was missing him a lot. But he couldn’t be selfish with this, going away had been good for him and if it hurt a little that he needed to be away from them, Seokjin didn’t utter a word. He had heard him sniffling at night, covering his mouth to muffle the sounds. Seokjin didn’t know how to comfort him so he just held him tighter.

Namjoon sighed, taking his phone back and hiding it in the backpack. He sighed. “Jimin is hiding away again. He barely spoke to me before locking himself in the cinema room. I don’t understand what is going on between them. Jungkook had to travel to the other side of the States to get away. I can’t get a word about what happened from either of them. Jungkook says he did something horrible to him and Jimin doesn’t want to say anything about it. And every time Jungkook pulls back from him I can see how much it hurts them both and I can’t do anything about it.”

“They don’t want us to do anything about it but they need us next to them,” Seokjin said, looking ahead at the sun slowly descending in the sky.

Namjoon let the silence stretch before speaking, “I’m grateful you’re with us, that you chose to stay. I don’t like to think about how it would have been without you.”

Seokjin turned his head away. “I didn’t do anything special. I am not that important.”

A hand touched his cheek, leading him gently until he was face to face with Namjoon looking into his hazel, almost golden, eyes. “Listen to me when I say this; you are important to us. You are pack and your place is with us here. I’ll be honest, I was weary at first but you fit right in like you were always meant to be with us. You belong with us and we’ll never let you go or get tired of you. You give so much without even realizing it.” His thumb rubbed small circles on his skin leaving burning trails behind. A heavy cloud had covered everything around him and all he could see was hazel eyes. “All I ask you is to let us take care of you, too.”

And before his doubts could stop him he surged forward. Namjoon caught him in his arms, cradling the oldest’s neck as he hid his face in his neck breathing in his scent. Time was meaningless there.

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

You were taking a short break. John had delivered your second cup of coffee for the day and a smoothie for Jungkook who disliked the bitter taste of coffee with passion. It was a mostly practical day that didn’t require a lot of moving around. You had been meeting up with people since the crack of dawn and discussing the best ways to cover up the disaster in a way that wouldn’t turn the public against the show or the studios. So far, you had been holding off any reporters from including the overlooked safety measures when publishing the news about the collapsed sets.

After being inside all day, you had decided to take a stroll around the block. Jungkook was walking next to you sipping his smoothie. He was wearing a simple black chocker with a silver charm.

He was telling you about a video he had seen on YouTube when your phone started ringing. Your nickname for Taylor was displayed across the screen with a photo of her pulling out a tray of cookies from the over.

“Hey, Tay,” you said.

“I called at the right time, didn’t I?”

“Just the perfect time, I have around twenty minutes before I have to go back. Work has been kicking my ass.”

Taylor laughed. “I’m sure you’ve been kicking its ass too. And better.”

You had told her around what time you would be taking your break. You hadn’t talked on the phone since coming to Virginia and you had missed her voice.

You stopped at a bench and Jungkook pulled out his phone. You felt a little bad for talking on the phone when it was the two of you but you had really missed Taylor and it wouldn’t take long anyway. She had been busy with Astrid, getting to know her better and helping her adapt to the new environment. When you had visited the hybrid had looked enamored with Taylor, you knew your friend would be amazing at taking care of a hybrid.

The conversation soon turned to you but you didn’t have much to share. Work was the same regardless the disaster but Taylor was more interested in other things.

“It has been almost a year since you and Jacob broke up. Don’t you have your sight on anyone? Any flirts? It isn’t like you lost the one and only,” she said.

Jacob had been far from the one and only. And when she asked, your mind went to dangerous places.

“Just because you found your man doesn’t mean we are all that lucky,” you said. “And how am I supposed to find anyone? I’m too busy.” From the corner of your eye you saw Jungkook turning to look at you with an unreadable expression.

Taylor continued, “Aren’t there any cute boys on set? At work? There has to be someone. Don’t bury yourself in work and forget to live. I’m not saying you need a man to be happy or complete, but don’t you miss going on dates? Getting to know someone like that?”

The answer came to you unbidden but it wasn’t something you were ready to say. “Maybe after the TV show, for now I really have to focus. After that is done and I don’t have to worry about anymore earthquakes, I’ll see where I’ll end up.”

You knew Taylor cared for you and she worried about how deep you threw yourself into work. Maybe there was also a small part that was still uncertain about the way you and Jacob had broken off things and the way you had avoided the topic like the plague for the first months. Like you and Jacob had never happened. But looking at boys and dating had been the last thing on your mind.

Ending the call with Taylor promising to text her when you got off work, you patted the small of Jungkook’s back. It was time to walk back. The smoothie was half-finished, the way it had been before, like he hadn’t taken a sip since sitting down.

You asked him if there was something wrong but he replied that everything was alright. It didn’t look like that was the case. He stayed close to you all day, more clingy than he had been the whole time you had been in Virginia, wary of the men who talked to you.

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

The blue sky and fluffy clouds reflected on the lake, a huge mirror creating another sky on its surface, a more vibrant but precise copy. No boats cut through the water, it was like there was a part of the sky that had made its home on the ground. Trees extended on every side of the lake, so many of them one next to the other with no end in sight.

The grass tickled Jimin’s palms swaying in the gentle wind. He breathed in the fresh morning.

“One day we’ll go on a boat ride.” Jungkook was sitting next to him, his long bangs falling at the sides of his face. “We’ll see every part of the lake, not just this. We’ll go everywhere.”

Flowers bloomed all around them, white and blue petunias, chrysanthemums and lilies. Jimin wanted to cut the most beautiful one and tuck it behind Jungkook’s ear. He turned to tell him but hands were holding the back of his neck and lips devouring his. He gripped Jungkook’s arms to steady himself from the force of the kiss. The sweet aroma of the flowers filled him up, engulfing every part of his being, the deepest crevices and the smallest of cracks.

Jungkook pushed him back so he was laying on the grass and Jimin let him, too drunk off the flowers and soft lips. Touches on his cheeks and his sides, caresses under his shirt. He was burning.

It didn’t take long for the panic to set in. With weak arms, he pushed Jungkook away. The air wouldn’t reach his lungs. The scent of the flowers turned stale and bitter.

“We can’t,” he tried to say but his voice wasn’t coming out right, sticking in his throat and refusing to flow.

Jungkook pulled back. His eyes were darker than before. “Is this it? Am I too common for his highness? You didn’t have any reservations about the panther hybrid, did you? Are you attracted to power, Jiminie? Or do you open your legs only for him?”

There were sharp blades piercing Jimin’s chest. How did he know? Who had told him? No one was supposed to know.

Two figures were hiding between the trees in the darkness the day couldn’t chase away. Your hands were crossed in front of your chest and Yoongi was standing right behind you.

Jimin took a step back colliding with the fountain at the entrance of the Castle. The house was looming over him, ominous and tall as if it could touch the sky. His clothes were torn, dirt and blood staining them. They were the clothes he had been wearing the day you had found them.

“I’m sorry but you can’t stay here anymore,” you said. You knew what he had done, you knew his dirty secret and he was paying for it again. He would be paying for it his whole life. A pain so powerful he felt like he was dying bloomed in his chest as rivers of tears rolled down his cheeks. His knees were weak. He couldn’t stand.

He searched in the faces of his pack, of the people he loved so much he thought his heart would burst. Nothing but sneers and gazes of pity. Whore, they whispered. Slut. Worthless.

Jimin crumbled to his knees. He was dying. He was sure he was dying. Spasms wrecked his body as he sobbed. He had nowhere to go, he had no one but them. He couldn’t live without them.

And when he thought it was over, that it was the last breath he was taking. He opened his eyes. His chest was heaving, his heart beating like a wild animal scratching at the bars of its cage. He was in their room, the glass wall looking out at the forest. Only the moonlight fought the darkness.

The sheets were restricting him and pushing him down, tangled around his body. Frantic movements born out of desperation took over his body and he stumbled over the edge of the bed, falling hard on the floor with the sheets wrapped around his legs.

And it overflowed.

The sobs and tears. He pulled at his hair and scratched his skin. They couldn’t know. No, they could never know. You would never look at him the same way. He would lose the only home he has ever known.

He wanted to scream. Scream until his lungs were empty and his body stopped shaking. Scream until he didn’t feel worthless and used like an old toy forgotten in a corner of the attic.

There were arms around him, prying his hands away from his hair and skin. He tried to pull away but they only held tighter until he gave in and sunk into their warmth. Blood was rushing to his ears and he only made out his name falling from the other person’s lips. He rocked in his arms, cursing himself and the world. Weak. He was so weak.

Fucking pathetic.

He gripped the hands holding him. He focused on the voice speaking although he couldn’t understand what it was saying. He choked on the bile in his throat, his body shaking with his sobs.

“Jiminie, breath. Just breath,” the voice said and Jimin tried to listen to it. He did. But it felt like he hadn’t been able to breath for a while. “Just like this. Breath with me. That’s right, like this. Breath. You’re doing so well, Minie.”

Spent, Jimin fell on the chest behind him, shaky breaths leaving his lips. One of the hands rubbed his stomach over his nightshirt.

“There. You’re alright. You’re alright.”

Jimin swallowed with difficulty down his scratchy throat. “Joonie?”

“I’m here. I’m here, Minie,” the other said. Jimin didn’t have the energy to look at him, laying his head on the older’s shoulder. “I’m right here.”

His breathing stuttered. Another tear escaping from his eyes, he thought he’d run out of them. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhh, don’t say that. Please don’t say that.” Namjoon’s voice was unsteady and it hurt Jimin knowing he had been the cause of it. “You’re alright. I’m always here for you but I can’t protect you from your head.”

Jimin’s tail wrapped around one of Namjoon’s arms as Jimin sniffled. “I don’t want to be alone. Please, please don’t let me go. Don’t make me leave.”

“Never. I’ll never leave you. We’ll never leave you. I’d do anything in this world to keep you safe.” Namjoon caressed his arm, moving upwards and pressing his fingers against Jimin’s left scent gland. Jimin’s whole body trembled, shivers overtaking him. Namjoon rubbed his nose against the other side of his neck, leaving kisses behind. Purring, Jimin arched his neck.

“I love you,” Jimin whispered, unable to stop the tears from falling.

Namjoon kissed over his scent gland and Jimin felt it everywhere. “I love you, Minie. So much.”

#bts #bts hybrid au #btscreatorscorner #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #poly!bts x reader #poly!bts #bts fanfic #jikook #sope #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts fluff

2K notes · View notes

kookingtae · 4 years ago

Text

falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts scenario #i hope this is good enough for the time being!!! im sorry its taking me so long to get pt 8 posted #u guys are the best i love u <3333

327 notes · View notes

andypantsx3 · 4 years ago

Text

LAY LOW (TAKE IT SLOW) | 3 | HAWKS x READER

pairing: Takami Keigo (Hawks) / Reader

length: TBD, est. ~20,000 words / 7 chapters

summary: What even was the right google search for this situation? How do I sew someone back together without passing out? How do I not barf on the pro hero I’m stitching up?

(Or, Hawks’ game of double agent lands him in the shaky hands of one (1) very unequipped English major.)

tags: romance, hurt/comfort, canon divergence, give Hawks a fuckin break pls

warnings: canon typical violence, blood, medical stuff, eventual smut, manga spoilers

Hawks was still deeply asleep by the time you woke up.

His chest rose and fell in slow, heavy breaths, and his body was a long, lean lump under your ugly floral blanket. He still had his feather clenched tightly in his fist, but his face was slack, soft and open with sleep. He probably still wasn’t out of the woods yet, but he seemed to be doing okay, no signs of pain creasing his brow, no hesitant hitch in his breath.

You rose from your nest of blankets on the floor, stretching. It had gotten dark again while you slept, the sun’s final rays peering weakly over the top of the neighboring building to paint your apartment a deep crimson. You shuffled over to your cramped little kitchen and flicked on the light, your stomach growling.

You realized you’d forgotten to feed yourself in the chaos of your morning, and you scarfed down a granola bar with all the voracity of a rabid racoon in the trash. Then, sated, you collected the ingredients you’d need for a more substantial meal. You eventually decided on a soup.

It was nice to do something with your hands, and the familiarity of easy tasks like chopping and stirring soothed you. You kept a vague eye on him, but Hawks didn’t rouse as you worked, and soon you found yourself with a steaming pot full of warm, fragrant broth, thick with vegetables, shreds of chicken, and two mismatched kinds of noodles where you’d stirred in leftover pasta shapes.

You hoped Hawks liked chicken noodle.

Since he was still asleep, you felt a little aimless, so you poured yourself a mug of soup and brought it back over to eat at the coffee table. Then you set up your laptop, rifled around in your backpack for your books, and settled in to do some homework. It seemed kind of a ridiculous thing to be doing when there was a wounded pro hero not two feet away from you, but you were at a loss for what else to do at the moment.

It was strange to be thrust back into the sheltered kind of world that you’d inhabited before last night, but all your old anxieties sank back in with ease. When things were due, what some text or another meant, what your professors would be grading on, and the stomach-churning question that had haunted you all through this semester—what would you do after graduation? Get a job? What kind of job? Go to grad school? But grad school for what, exactly?

You managed to finish up several assignments, shooting them off to your professors along with a message to let them know you’d miss class tomorrow. You were just working your way through a particularly knotty passage in Beowulf when the skin on the back of your neck prickled.

You looked up to find Hawks watching you, those golden eyes unnervingly intent.

Your stomach flipped.

“Hi!” you said, then winced at your own volume. “Uh, I mean—hey. You’re awake! How are you feeling?”

Hawks’s mouth twitched into a smile, crooked and unreasonably dashing for someone both injured and swaddled in the earth’s most heinously floral throw.

“Better than you, maybe,” he said. “You looked like you were being tortured just then.”

You looked back down at your book, the nearly incomprehensible twists of Old English staring back up at you. “Maybe a little,” you admitted.

His grin went wider, and you flushed despite yourself. “That bad?”

“Worse than you can imagine,” you said.

The intensity of his golden stare softened a little, and he shifted, stretching slowly and carefully until the pull on his stitches made him wince. He let out a soft exhale.

You groped around for something to say. “Do you maybe want food? I made soup—not sure if you like that?”

Hawks visibly perked up. “God, yes. And a shower?” he asked eagerly.

You nodded, feeling silly. Of course you should have offered him that as well. You’d done your best to get all the blood and grime off of him, but there were places you dared not touch, and there had been nothing to be done for his hair—the feathery, fluffy strands were still dark with sweat and dirt. Of course he’d want a shower.

“Definitely. Can I, um, help you over to the bathroom?” you asked.

Hawks’s fingers twitched minutely over his feather, but he nodded.

You went to him, crouching down to slip an arm under his shoulder, minding his stitches. He was obviously doing his best to bear his own weight, but he was still heavy as you pulled him up and guided him to your tiny bathroom. You left him leaning on the sink while you ran the shower, a scruffy pile of sleek muscle and wrinkled blankets.

“So what’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked conversationally while you dug around under the sink for a towel and a spare toothbrush. You startled and bashed your head on the counter, letting out a grunt. That pet name again.

God, his casual charm might be even more dangerous than his quirk.

“Y/N,” you replied, then slipped back under his arm to help him over to the shower. “You don’t, um, need me to—? While you shower—?” You floundered for the right terms, unwilling to say that you’d help hold him up while he was showering and therefore straight up naked.

Hawks chuckled. “I think I can manage.”

You let out a sigh of relief, and his grin widened. “Great,” you said, “I’ll, uh, be right outside if you need help with anything.”

Hawks watched you for a brief second, his amber eyes finding yours, and then his smile went a little softer. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

You ducked out of the bathroom before you could embarrass yourself further. After a couple of moments, you heard the rustle of clothes and blankets hitting the floor and the shnnk of your shower curtain being pulled back. You waited a few minutes. When there was no sign of Hawks falling over and killing himself in your shower, you retreated into your bedroom.

You tried to distract yourself by digging around in your drawers for a change of clothes that would fit him, but it was kind of hard to divert yourself from the realization that he was awake.

Worse news, he was very charming when he was awake. You’d been very unprepared for the whole stitching him back together thing, and the making sure he didn’t die thing, and you did not doubt you would be similarly unprepared for the dealing with him while he was awake thing. You were a book nerd whose confidence with the male gender at large typically depended on a great deal of inebriation. You were not ready to deal with an apartment full of handsome pro hero.

You unearthed a sweatshirt that looked like it might fit him, and an ancient pair of sweatpants that had been too long for you. You tried very hard not to think about the absence of suitable underwear for him.

The water turned off in your bathroom just as you approached. You knocked softly, leaving the clothes just inside the door for him, and then leaned against the wall to wait.

It took him a while but Hawks eventually emerged, and you immediately had to choke back a laugh.

The sweatshirt fit him fine, if slightly tight around his broad shoulders, but the sweatpants were comical. They sagged loosely around his slim hips but stretched horrifically tight around his muscular thighs, and they cut off mid-calf like a pair of middle-aged lady capris. He wore them low, and had clearly done the best he could, but he still kind of looked like he was wearing a diaper with matching leggings.

His smile was a lazy, masculine sort of thing. “It’s a good look, right?”

“Oh my god. It’s definitely something,” you laughed, unable to help yourself. “I’ll go out and grab you actual clothes in the morning.”

He grinned, and let you help him back over to the couch, picking his way gingerly across your living room where he collapsed back onto the couch, breathing out a sigh of relief. You went and fetched him a cup of soup and some water, then piled more of his raisins and juice in front of him.

“You sure know how to spoil a guy, sweetheart,” he said, watching you with one fluffy eyebrow cocked.

You managed to back away without dropping the juice. “I would taste the soup before you make any kind of commentary.”

He didn’t look like he minded it, though. He ate slowly at first, but quickly seemed to realize he was starving, shoveling down spoonfuls so enthusiastically you were afraid he might tear his stitches. He polished off another bowl after that, and scarfed down his raisins and juice too.

“So you’re a student?” he asked conversationally, gesturing to the book you’d abandoned on the coffee table. “You didn’t look like you were reading for pleasure.”

You grinned. “Yeah, last semester of an English major.”

“Nice,” he said. “What do you plan to do after that?”

And there it was again. The dreaded question of what to do after college.

“Uh, I’m not really sure yet,” you admitted. “I’m having trouble finding inspiration. I can’t really seem to narrow in on what I want.”

Hawks nodded, and you felt a little foolish admitting as much to a man who’d already been working professionally four whole years, who’d trained for the better part of his life in order to make a dream happen, and who had seen instant and well-deserved success. And speaking of his hero career...

You watched him carefully as he went back to eating, an uneasy feeling creeping back over you. Now that he was up and coherent, you thought you deserved answers—how exactly had a pro hero come to be bleeding to death on your street, and why was he refusing any sort of medical attention from a professional? What was going on with him?

Hawks seemed to sense your unease. His eyes kept flicking up to yours curiously, and eventually he set the empty raisin box back down on the coffee table, and said, “You want to know what happened.”

It wasn’t a question.

You nodded and some of the cheer vanished from his expression. The air in the room went slightly tense as he took a couple of moments to consider things.

Finally, he settled on, “I was ambushed. Some guys got the drop on me.”

Those must be some guys, you thought. Your first question was where they were now, if they hadn’t been in the alley with him. You’d seen the bloodstains all down one wall, he had clearly fallen from somewhere above, so he probably hadn’t been attacked in the alleyway. Which left the question of whether he’d killed the men who’d attacked him, where they were now, and who they even were to start with.

The vagueness of his answer didn’t sit right with you, though, and you realized this addressed none of why he couldn’t go to the hospital.

“You said—they were watching the hospital? Who is they? And how would they know which hospital you were in?” you asked. You imagined a villain organization, even one like the League of Villains couldn’t have a network of contacts so extensive that they could have eyes and ears in every single ward of every single hospital. Not to mention private hero facilities like Hawks’s own agency, or UA. They had Recovery Girl there—why hadn’t he gone there?

Hawks watched you for a long minute with a frankly chilling intensity. There really was something raptorial about his gaze, and you felt a little bit like a mouse being tracked through tall grass.

“They have the resources. That’s all I can say,” he said, something final in his tone.

You hesitated a moment, thoughts churning wildly like the waves of an agitated sea, before you ultimately decided not to press him anymore. It was clear he didn’t want to give you the answers you were looking for. Whether it was because you were a civilian or because he didn’t quite trust you yet, you weren’t sure. But you nodded, and Hawks looked pleased.

Then, it was almost like a mask was pulled back up—the tense atmosphere vanished, and he was leaning forward, smiling and boyish again.

“The soup was amazing—I fucking love chicken,” he said, patting the flat plane of his abdomen. You caught a whiff of your own shampoo as he shifted, and a flash of red from the feather you’d given him, now jammed awkwardly between the cushions.

Which reminded you.

“Um, thanks,” you said absently. “Hey, can you use the rest of your feathers once they’ve seen some action?” You gestured again at the trash bag you’d left to the side of the couch. “I brought all of them back for you but I’m not sure if you can…?”

Hawks looked thrilled. Even as you spoke, some of the longer feathers shifted as if blown by a light breeze, shivering, and freed themselves from the trash bag. They floated over to him, some a little wobbly, and you looked at Hawks to find him concentrating intensely.

“I can, yeah,” he said distractedly. “I’m not up to full capacity, though, so it might be awhile before I can get the little ones back in working order.”

“Well you’re welcome to stay here,” you said, the words out of your mouth before you’d even thought them through. “I mean, if you need to. I...I’m still not really clear on why you can’t go to a hospital, or to your agency or something, but you’re, um, welcome to stay here for a while.”

Hawks’s amber eyes were warm when they found yours again. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

He leaned forward then, a calloused hand grasping your own. His touch was soft and warm, gentle where he held you. You stilled, your heart leaping into your mouth, feeling like some idiot gentlewoman of the Victorian era who might swoon at the barest touch of a gentleman.

Which actually might have been understandable if the gentleman looked the way Hawks did.

His steady gaze held yours. “And thank you for saving me, Y/N,” he said. “I don’t know that I would have made it if you hadn’t found me.”

Your entire body went hot and it took everything in you not to jerk your hand out of his grip and curl up like a pillbug. You wanted him to blink, to look away, to do anything that might get his attention off of you.

“It was nothing,” you said. But even as you said it, the words felt wrong in your mouth, like you could sense they weren’t quite right. It was something—something more than just helping an injured pro in a one off patrol accidental.

It was something more than Hawks was telling you, something more than a regular villain group with their fingers in a couple pies.

It was something—and as Hawks released you, leaning back on your couch with another easy smile, you had the feeling you would eventually find out what.

This didn't really do what I wanted it to do, but it was time for me to stop waffling and post!!

I hope you guys liked it!

#hawks x reader #bnha x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks #takami keigo #bnha

331 notes · View notes

questioned-quetzalcoatl · 2 years ago

Text

Call me Satan, darling. Part 6

Rating: T

Parings: New Zealand/Tonga (Hetalia)

Characters: New Zealand, Tonga, Philippines, Finland, Denmark, others mentioned

Variation: Demon/Human AU

Summary: When Kainga, an exchange student from Tonga, travels to New Zealand for his studies, he expects all to go well. It does. All except getting hit by a car by Satan himself, who also happens to be his seductive roommate. Kainga finds himself slowly falling for the devil after his declaration of love. Because nothing truly says ‘I love you’ more than being run off the road by a rusty old Ute. Also available on AO3 and WATTPAD!

Contents: [Chapter 1]

[Chapter 2]

[Chapter 3]

[Chapter 4]

[Chapter 5]

[Chapter 6]

[Chapter 7]

[Chapter 8]

[Chapter 9]

[[Slight NSFW warning for this chapter at the end! It's fairly quick and adds literally nothing so feel free to skip.]]

AN: Hello friends! We're more than half-way through this fic! (Give or take a few chapters I'm sure sure how much I want to write ;v;) This is my biggest fic yet so thank you to all you wonderful readers enjoying my work. I plan to have another fic and make this a series but I'll see how much willpower and time I have to do that. But I have some ideas I'd really like to expand on and maybe a bit of lore for this au!!! I'll leave it open, my sleep schedule is practically non-existent anyways. qwq

This is where the story starts to get on track a little. Apologies if it's been a little slow running up until now. Thank you for having patience with me!! uvu;

Some extra characters in this chapter! Here are their names incase anyone gets confused!

Densen - Denmark Piri - Philippines Tino - Finland And of course James - New Zealand Kainga - Tonga

---

Months had passed and it had been an unnerving amount of time since Kainga had last seen the King of Hell. He was out of his crutches; now walking freely with a thin cast around his right foot and lower leg just for safety reasons, however it felt more like a thick sock than anything.

These months had been very peaceful, spending most of his time at the University library. The cross sat heavily on his chest like a holy restraining order as he wandered through rows of book shelves, Kainga lightly running his fingers across the covered spines. Volumes crammed the shelves, all sizes and colors. The oldest ones sat on the highest shelf, out of reach of the younger student’s sticky hands. Scripted gold lettering, faint as breath, could still be seen along the spines. One can drown in the ocean of tranquility; the whole aura of space is as peaceful as nature. Long stretching room full of piles of information captured in the pages is truly mesmerizing. Kainga loved to read, a great library like this was his paradise. Trailing his fingertips along to try and find the book he was looking for, amazingly keeping his balance while holding another heavy stack of books in his other hand as well as his laptop. Reading glasses placed comfortably on the bridge of his nose, scanning for the book he needed.

He didn't know how long he was looking in the maze of the Literature section but he was far from the main corridors where the light hit the books at the front. It was as if the back rows laid untouched like a still creature, encouraging those brave enough to find the knowledge it held in the dim light of its lair. Nothing can ever replace the authenticity and reliability one gets from a library, Kainga enjoyed nothing more.

A thought lingered in the back of his mind however as he took another book from the shelf, a lot like a broken track record. With every turn around a bend he half expected James's stupid face and badly worn suit to appear. To start constantly bothering him and calling him stupid pet names as if they were just your average couple. Kainga noticed that James hadn't made an appearance since he started wearing the cross around his neck. He wasn't sure if that was the case, but the thing unbelievably heavy. Or perhaps that was just the guilt he had which was weighing him down. The fact he even felt guilty was enough to make himself angry. Why on earth did he feel guilty? He murmured to himself under the hiss of a breath as he caught sight of a book by James Johonnot. It seemed that wretched devil was everywhere now, tormenting him subtly to his breaking point.

"God why does it have to be him? I swear everywhere I look it's just James! Bloody James. James. Jame-"

There's a loud bang like a gunshot next to where he was stood. A loud slur of profanity swallowed up by the dreaded and familiar red tinted smoke and the solid sound of a body dropping to the floor, followed by a loud groan of pain.

Kainga didn't exactly scream but he's not exactly quiet either. It's more of a distressed strain of a yelp as he dropped the pile of books and his laptop out of fright. Papers flying in various directions. Typical. The library floor goes even more quiet for a second with other students wondering what on earth made that noise. Kainga is quick to quiet himself by holding his palm against his mouth to stop the burning embarrassment of the grueling stares through the book shelves, ones he could not see but knew were there. There's silence before a soft ray of whispers under their breaths that turns back to average study chatter. Kainga let out a breathless heave and looked down at James who had now sat up and was rubbing his head.

"James?! Where the hell did you come from?!" He snapped angrily at him, going to pick up his books. James shot him a just as confused look and handed him a book.

"What do you mean by that?! You're the one who summoned me! Maybe a simple 'Hello' or I don't know even a 'How are you today James?' would be nice after you just dragged me from where I was comfortably sat!" He snapped back at him, standing up and brushing some kind of crumbs off of his suit. Kainga stared up at him, taking the book from his devilish grip.

"Summon you? I didn't summon you! At least I didn't mean to!"

James sighed.

"Do you not know how to summon a demon?! Have you seen any of the movies?! You say the name three times!" he expressed in disbelief.

"Yeah I have! It's Hollywood bullshit, I didn't know it actually worked! Besides it's not like I wanted you to come here anyways you're like a bull in a china store!"

"So you've been avoiding me?"

"Well...yes? But no...I...It's complicated...wait I never said that?"

"Well that indicates it..." James pointed rather accusingly at the crucifix draped over his shoulders. That just made Kainga feel worse, due to his tone he was clearly upset about it. He swallowed thickly as the cross got heavier. James continued on. "I just wanted to come and see you, you've been really hard to find. After all you chose to hide yourself in the biggest and most comprehensive University in the country."

"I haven't been hiding from you James. I've just been trying to focus on the reason I'm actually here. This is my only chance of a good education!" he stacked the pile of books back into his arm. There was one left, a large leather cover laying face down on the carpet. James looked at it and bent down to pick it up for him.

"Well we can arrange times! I know you're probably mad at me for the other date but I was hoping we coul- OW SHIT!!!"

James was instantly cut off as soon as his fingers came into contact with the book, picking it up before dropping it like a hot ember. A loud sizzling noise like he was physically burnt by it. Kainga looked at him in shock, smelling the awful odor of burnt flesh. James stood hunched, cradling his burnt fingers.

"J-James?! What happened are you alrigh-" he cut himself off and stared down at the book. James had managed to flip it back over when he dropped it. The gold text on the front read out what Kainga had feared the most.

The Holy Bible.

Both Kainga and James stared down at it. Kainga bit his lip. Shit. Shit. SHIT! He forgot he had picked that up. It was really a bad look for him. He stood with his heart pounding as he scrambled to pick it up. Half of the back cover had been burnt off and some of the back pages were hanging on by the thread of the inner spine. What was a few seconds seemed like forever as they both stood in a deep silence. Kainga finally mustered up courage to explain himself, he could clearly tell James was beyond angry at him.

"James..."

"Y'know what. I'll just go."

"What?! No it's not like that! I promise! James I'm studying Literatur-."

"Kainga. I said I'm going. You clearly don't fucking want me here so what's the bloody point? First the cross now this?!" he pointed accusingly at him, snarling almost. Kainga flinched, smacking his pointing hand away.

"For godsakes just let me explain myself! You're so fucking selfish you know! If you wanna go then leave, fuck off! I don't care!"

James's face contorted into a more saddened expression. Oh god here comes that fucking guilt again.

"You don't...?"

Kainga went quiet for a while. Nervously shuffling around with his blood running colder every second he was in his presence. Second guessing himself as he always seemed to do when James had something to do with it. James's raging flame of anger had seemed to be extinguished when the Tongan didn't answer him. Kainga could practically hear the sizzle, see the smoke arise, see the darkness flee from his eyes. He frowned.

"I do. James. But you can't keep going on like this."

"Like what?"

"Appearing out of nowhere at the worst times. Maybe I don't want to stop seeing you but maybe there's times I need for myself."

"Are you mad at me about the date?"

"The date has nothing to do with this. I actually had a rather decent time. I realized I forgot to thank you...so...thank you, James."

James chuffed and shrugged a little, placing his hands in either pocket. He couldn't help but grin moronically, blushing like he was rather proud of himself.

"It's...really no problem. I also had a good time..." James hesitated, glancing surreptitiously down at Kainga, a sly sheepishness coating over his face. "Would you like to go on another one maybeee...?"

His answer was clear no matter how hard you looked, he was basically as readable as the books he held. The devils hopeful grin coaxed with the fact it was a tender moment between the two. Not one that involved any kind of Ute or stink of fish but one Kainga found himself not wanting to ring the New Zealander's neck for once.

"Maybe I will, James. But not now, I have exams. Give me a week or two. We can arrange something then."

James smiled brightly at him, like his face illuminated with delightfulness despite how idiotic he may have looked. Kainga could've kissed him, frankly a part of him wanted to. Half out of curiosity but his hands were full. So he bid James goodbye and took off to the main study hall in the library. He looked back just once and James was gone. Like he had retreated into the subdued shadows of the back rows of shelves like a ghost.

---

Back studying at his desk had become the norm for Kainga. Despite most of the students walking around, it was surprisingly quiet. A very peaceful aroma where Kainga had surrounded himself with his small group of friends he'd met on campus. One in particular he'd become very close friends with was a Filipino student, Piri. Sure he liked the other people in their small group but Piri was the one he trusted the most. Somehow he couldn't bring himself to spill his whole Satan situation to him, having to make up a excuse for his random disappearance. After a small while of studying, Piri spoke up, taking off his headphones and resting them beside him.

"These exams are really making me tired Kai...I've got yet another one to sit through tomorrow."

Kainga looked over at him.

"Really? Didn't you just sit one?"

"Yeah, last week. No rest for us Physiology students, it's hard to keep on top of everything." Piri bit his lip, looking back down at his work. "Oh. That's what I wanted to ask you. Densen is busy with his exams right now, could I borrow your library card? I left mine back at the flat." He asked, starting to pack his laptop back into his bag as well as his other supplies. Kainga smiled.

"Of course. I hardly ever use it anyways." he fumbled around with his lanyard for a bit, unhooking it and handing the Filipino the library card. "How is Densen by the way? It's been a while since I've seen him."

Piri took the card and thanked him. "Densen? Oh yeah he's been very busy. Hey I'll see if he's free this afternoon, Tino as well. We can go down to the University café down near campus. That is if you're not busy..."

Kainga pondered the idea for a bit. Maybe a moment with just his friends would take his mind off a few things. Specifically off James. Especially off James. He looked around the library, as if someone was watching him make this decision. James wasn't still watching him was he?

Piri looked at him oddly.

"Kai? Is everything alright?"

Kainga snapped back to him like he was awoken from a daydream.

"Oh! Right sorry...yeah I'll be there! What time should I be there?"

Piri thought for a while.

"Meet us down there at two. I'll ask everyone now in advance."

Kainga stood up to follow Piri to the printer to help him with his printing and to get his card back when he was finished. He had some assignments to print off too. He doesn't notice he's left his things in the library, he also doesn't notice James watching his spot from afar.

James wasn't peculiarly fond of his friends. Not like he'd met them personally, but he didn't like the fact they were around HIS queen. He didn't like Piri being around Kainga, or the fact Densen made the Tongan blush on occasion. Which made his possessive blood boil whenever he saw it. That was HIS job, not some mortals. He snarled a little even at the very thought of it. James slumped over to his work space, half hidden under his desk. He started to rummage through his work. What on earth was more important than him? Some papers? He scoffed at a few hand-written essays.

James was flicking through his files. Hardly anything of interest to him.

It was all going well.

That's when he smelt the burning.

He sniffed, catching the scent of the small fire that has started at the spade of his tail. Like flint to steel his tail must've caught on the wooden surface of one of the desk legs, causing it to catch alight. Shit. Shit. Shit!

James sprang up from the desk, grabbing Kainga's stuff in a messy pile in his arms. The smoke started to rise and the smell got more pungent. James began to panic, holding up the Tongan's things as he desperately attempted to put out the growing flames, only succeeding in making it spread across the carpet. He'd garnered the attention of other students. A panic spread faster than the fire.

First a scream. Then more screams.

Then the fire alarm. The loud ringing that echoed across the building, deafening anyone who'd come to enjoy their peace in the library.

Then rain.

Most of the students had evacuated the building by now. Only James remained. Still holding Kainga's stuff. Face to face with a drenched and murderous Kainga, standing in front of him as he scowled at the Devil twice his size. James felt himself shrink a little. The fire alarm continued to blare across the campus grounds, the fire itself had been put out.

James very sheepishly looks away from him as Kainga's stare bares into his skin like a laser of disappointment and anger, almost in disbelief. His stare was the personification of nails on a chalkboard, or a fork being scrapped onto a plate. He's rather surprised he can even feel how angry he was, considering half of Kainga's face was covered by his dark curly and now very wet hair. He pushed some back out of his eyes, making a wet squelching noise as he wiped the rest of the water off his face.

"I uhh...got your stuff...Managed to save your laptop and most of the books. Erm... Some of yer papers set on fire but I got what I could." James murmured quietly handing him the pile of his things wrapped in his black coat. "It should be somewhat dry too."

The rain and alarm finally stopped as they were both left extremely damp. Kainga's whole body dripping with it.

"You set the library on fire." Kainga hissed angrily.

"Almost. Set it on fire." he corrected him. "And I DID save your stuff."

Kainga grumbled, snatching his things off of James. His glare didn't lessen as he shoved the things in his bag, handing him back his coat.

"Thanks."

James whimpered a little, knowing too well he was very much in the wrong. Kainga could kiss him, despite how angry he was at him, he did save his stuff. The fact James's hurt expression showed the Devil knew he was wrong, it almost made him seem human. Kainga started to give more human qualities to him, he did look the part at least. Perhaps it was an accident, maybe he'd never know. But in that moment to grabbed James's tie and wrapped it around his wrist. Yanking James down towards him, this accompanied with the fact Kainga still had to stand on his tippy toes to even get anywhere near his stupid face, that was caught completely off guard.

What Kainga intended to be a peck ended up going south as their lips met somewhere in the middle. James's eyes widened in shock, wasting no time in wrapping his arms around his waist. He didn't mind the neck crane to reach him. Kainga instantly starting to regret his decision when James pulled him in just a little bit closer to his body. He aborted mission, quickly pulling away while heavily flushed. His hand resting on James's chest. God he was an idiot. Regardless, he'd just kissed the Devil. Surprisingly, it wasn't even bad. Once Kainga pulled away he gasped for air like he was having a heart attack, James of course wouldn't know any different as there was hardly any space between them. Must've been the burning sensation his rough lips gave him. He softly stopped panting and looked back up at him. It was clear James was forgiven by the downright goofy grin James possessed on his face; Kainga only catching a glimpse of it when he pulled away.

"I'm sorry about that..." James finally apologized, lifting the weight from his voice.

Kainga sighed, throwing his bag back over his shoulder, his gaze had softened as he looked back at James.

"Thank you for apologizing, James. I'll...see you soon."

James was far too giddy about the fact they just kissed. As well as the fact he didn't initiate it. Kainga smiled gently, giving his cheek another kiss as he walked by him, somewhat reluctantly but it felt nice.

"See you soon~" James swooned after him.

Kainga laughed.

---

There was a shuffle of the burnt paper as Kainga sprawled the parchments out on the table. All their edges and sides lightly burnt as the bits of paper crumbled off the cinder. He nervously wiped some of the embers off of the café table. Densen gave him a strange look from the other side as he sipped his coffee.

"So your work just...caught on fire? Just like that?"

Kainga looked at him almost suspiciously, sighing before shuffling the paper back into a neat pile by thumping them onto the table.

"Well yes, I suppose so. I think I sat next to a electrical outlet. Must've just short circuited or something."

Kainga was basically forced to come up with a lie to draw his friends away from the fact his Satanic, somewhat boyfriend had just set his work on fire. He clenched his teeth, nervously squirming in his seat. He prayed to whatever God there was that Densen wasn't fully aware of how electrical fires are caused. For now he just gave him a very incredulous look as he audibly swallowed. Luckily his story flew right over the Dane's head. Kainga sighed, his breath thickly lined with fear as he picked up the cup of tea he'd ordered. Unbeknownst to him, Densen was the least of his worries. He could only imagine the look on their faces when he told them he was dating the guy who put him in crutches the first time they met.

Unfortunately, Kainga was not very good at hiding secrets from people. Everything around him crashed when Piri came up to their table, ushering the words:

"Was that your boyfriend?"

Kainga instantly spat out his tea all over Densen. Choking on the hot liquid as he erupts in fits of coughs and splutters, trying to save what little of his tea he managed to keep in his cup. Densen sighed and started to wipe the tea off his face with a nearby napkin. Kainga gulped.

"Sorry..."

Densen merely huffed, cleaning himself completely and throwing the tea soaked napkin to the side. Piri with his other friend, Tino, behind him, excitedly sat down next to Kainga. Half pushing the poor Tongan against the wall as he slid up next to him. Piri's face glimmered with excitement at him, saying no words yet Kainga dreaded what he'd just seen. He knew what he'd seen and that made him want to curl up and die right there. Densen looked at them all oddly.

"Who's boyfriend?" The Dane questioned the trio all at once.

Tino chirped in, his mouth full of a chocolate roll. "Kainga's boyfriend! Piri saw him kissing someone in the library! After the fire alarm went off."

Densen's mouth gaped as he stared at Kainga. "HE WHAT?!"

Kainga attempted to hide his face by holding his forehead. He supposed it wouldn't be long until his group caught onto him. He'd gathered all of their stares over the table as he quietly sipped on the rest of his tea, stalling on what to say.

"You didn't answer my question. Are you dating someone and keeping it from the group?" Piri asked him, getting impossibly close to his personal bubble. In fact, it was non existent at this point. It'd popped as soon as the Filipino opened his mouth.

Kainga wouldn't lie to himself, as much as he wanted to throw the rest of his hot tea into Piri's face in order to stop him from the influx of invasive questions he knew he was about to throw onto him. He knew he wasn't going to stop hounding him for details about his mysterious lover.

"Well...yes. Sort of. It's complicated. Very complicated."

"Oh?" Piri's eyes were so wide, Kainga could barely see past them. The stares of his friends made Kainga shrink a little into his merino sweater. He swallowed and continued.

"You know...the first time we all met I was in crutches? I told you all I'd been hit by a car. Do you remember that?"

"Yeah I do. What about it?"

"Well." Kainga paused, almost for dramatic effect. It was mainly to calm his nerves, keeping his friends on edge. "I'm kind of dating, well not really dating. More like seeing. I'm seeing the guy that....ran me over."

Suddenly silence.

Kainga could practically hear all of their reactions echoing off of their faces. His eyes scrunched up tightly before they opened slightly to see three overly astonished faces glaring at him. The sounds of the café around them being the only sound to be heard as Kainga felt the overbearing sense of dread that washed over him once more.

Piri was the most awestruck one.

"You're...dating the guy that almost killed you?!"

"Yeah and get this. The nutjob thinks he's Satan."

Kainga was really treading on eggshells. Careful with his predetermined wording to not spill that James was ACTUALLY Satan. Piri sits back, his jaw basically on the floor at this point. Like his soul had left his body.

Tino took it as an opportunity to speak up.

"You have very questionable taste in your men..."

"Tino, not now." Densen mumbles hotly to the Finnish boy next to Piri. Kainga wasn't going to keep this secret intact, looking at them all as he finished his tea. Densen's coffee had gone cold beside him. All of their concerned and shocked expressions made Kainga groan, perhaps it was worse than he imagined. It also made him double take his entire relationship with James at this point. Was he really insane for going through with this? Again with the second guessing.

Kainga barely escaped that conversation. He found himself repeating himself with all the questions Piri, Densen and Tino shot at him like a gun. They just kept coming. Barely giving them half the story, they were mainly beyond themselves with him. It was mainly Piri to hound him with questions until he was on the floor crying. What made it worse was he walked home with him as they lived in the same apartment building on campus. They usually walked home together, watching the viridescent trees that lined the Campus streets shrivel up and crisp into their autumn bloom.

Misty dew covers the entire surface of the field as they pass, Auckland almost transformed from it's burning Summers to it's cooler Autumns. Autumn slowly weaves its way in and leaves a stain of brilliant color in its wake. Kainga and Piri stepped on the ground that was covered with a blanket of colorful leaves that had fallen from the trees like snow, leaving some branches almost bare. Various other trees possessing vibrant sunset like colored leaves that dangled from their branches like giant hanging bats. The dead leaves crunching below them and the significantly cooler air around them really made it feel like Autumn. On this autumn day the foliage above could be his infinite dreams of scarlet and gold, playful in the soft light, colors ignited for all who care to see. They are the candles of the daylight, these trees that bring their art to their world, their branches taking root in the sky.

Kainga adjusted his scarf as Piri was rambling on about something. Frankly the Tongan had stopped listening a while ago.

"Kai?! Hey are you even listening to me?!"

"What? Oh yeah I am. Sorry just lost in thought."

"You're thinking about that Satan guy aren't you?"

Kainga shot him a dismayed look from the judgmental side-eye he gave him. Giving his now red hued nose a rub before nestling it into his scarf.

"No. In fact he's the last thing I want to think about. He infuriates me."

"If he infuriates you why do you date him?"

"Piri I ask myself that everyday..." he laughed lightly. "I'm not here to fuck spiders, or devils for that matter. I just want to get my education, then go home."

Piri frowned a little. "So you're not staying here?"

Kainga shook his head.

"I don't need to. Once I graduate this will be all over and I can go back home. That's my plan and I'm gonna stick to it."

"What about your whole dating Satan situation? Are you going to break it off with him?"

Kainga goes quiet for a while after reaching the front door of his apartment building. He could feel the warmth of the indoor heater from inside as he shuffled around in his coat pocket for his keys.

"He's not actually Satan. The dumbass just claims to be him..." He announced through rather gritted teeth. "...and frankly I'm still thinking about it. He's insane yes, but give him time and he's a genuinely nice guy. Or somewhat at least. I'll just see where it goes and pray I don't become some human sacrifice." he snorted a little and pulled out his keys at last. "You coming inside?"

Piri shrugged.

"Nah sorry. I've got another lecture. I'm taking a photography course, on top of all my Physiology. Told you I can hardly catch a break!" Piri smiled sweetly at him before pausing, his smile drooping a little at the corners of his mouth. "Just be careful would you?"

Kainga looked at him oddly. Why would he say that? Surely James wouldn't hurt him. Or at least hurt him that much...

"What do you mean by that?"

"That guy you're dating. He seems...odd...just be careful around him. I'm only looking out for you." Piri said, his demeanor coming off as very serious now. Kainga shifted nervously.

"Y-yeah...I will. Don't worry about me." he expressed in an attempt to draw away his friends concern. They said their goodbyes and Piri was off back down the road into campus. Kainga was left to stand there for a while. His faint breath drifted out from the wooly fabric of his scarf. As he headed inside, his mind started to spin. He even got a little dizzy as he reached the stairs up to his apartment. It was a voice. James's voice. Hushed yet cold. Hungrily husk in the way it drawls in his mind like a broken record. The crucifix getting so heavy it felt like he was carrying a boulder around his neck. Like his body would just collapse and fall straight through the stairs into the fiery pits of Hell awaiting him. He staggered, feeling like his throat was about to rip out of his neck as if some dark creature of Hell was shredding him to pieces. Gnarling, thrashing blades that looked like the creatures teeth until he saw red. Like something was tearing away at his very existence. His humanity.

A panic attack.

The same few words James ushered to him on loop. Almost demanding.

"You trust me...don't you?"

---

James, surprisingly enough, does leave Kainga alone for another long period of time. For about a week or so. After Kaingas panic attack on the stairs, his mind would replay that same scene. A reoccurring dream he'd been having, the one he was currently having now. That same creature. It wasn't human. In fact far from it. It was a horrible looking beast. The exoskeleton of a large hound with dark red flesh wrapped around it's bones as if it'd grown on top of a corpse-like fungi. The creature had no eyes, just oozing muscles that'd contorted around its face and long grueling snout. Large carnivorous teeth that protruded from its mouth like large stalagmites in a cave, they lined the entire jaw of the creature, so much so that it was constantly salivating and looked as if it wasn't able to even close it's mouth.

It was the thing of nightmares. No matter how far or fast Kainga ran, he was running into nothing. No light at the end of the tunnel. Nothing. Surrounding darkness with a vague splash of thinly lined water below him. The hellish flesh creature chasing behind him, getting closer and closer. Attempting to swipe at him with the one obtruded claw that stuck out as longer than the rest. It'd always go for his heel, slicing at it until Kainga could run no more, his heel bleeding out as he was rendered unable to run away from it.

He'd scramble away. He'd scream until he choked as the creature devoured him. Slashing and gnawing at him with a horrendous low growl and snarl. His breath stolen away from the screaming and crying from the insufferable pain as the creature engulfed his flesh that was torn from his body like a piece of cooked meat. That awful feeling like he was falling yet his body remained in the same place.

Then a faint image, blurred almost beyond recognition to the naked eye, the eye that didn't know what the devil himself looked like. But he sure did. James reaching out to him. To help him? To grab him? Kainga still wasn't sure himself, he just knew it was James standing above him. He went to reach for him like he was his safety. Oh what a foolish mistake of a desperate man. Kainga's fingers barely scrapping the ashes atop of James's burning fingertips...

So close...

Everything went black.

A voice. James's voice. Called out and echoed in Kainga's blindness and pain...

"You trust me...don't you?"

Kainga woke as he did normally. Panting and damp with sweat, he'd awake screaming in pain, only to find the pain wasn't even there. It was as if the pain retreated from his body as soon as he awoke. It'd felt so real. Kainga wasn't even convinced it was a dream at this point. Some kind of sick hallucination or sleep paralysis caused by stress or James. No. James WAS his stress. He sat up right in his bed, sweating and heaving like he'd just run a marathon. His baggy shirt that he slept in was now drenched and saturated with his sweat that seeped through the fabric.

He grumbled under his breath, starting to wipe the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. He was dazed. What time was it? The sunlight of the morning gently caressed the edges of his curtains, giving his room a light amber hue. This morning he didn't smell the usual crispness of the morning, instead he smelt something cooking. Odd. Someone was cooking food. He hears a whistle of a song, one he can't quite make out, it was strangely familiar. He sleepily stumbled out of his room, resting against the doorframe to see who had stolen the use of his own kitchen from him. He pauses. His heart dropping a little.

"James?"

James turns around from the stove and smiles, holding up a spatula. Kainga is beyond confused now. "It's a...reasonable time. What are you doing here?"

"Making ya breakfast!" he chirped happily as Kainga walked over to him curiously. He had to hold back gagging at what he saw in the stove pan below him, the one James was holding and cooking was he assumed to be his meal on. Unless by some god-sent miracle his food was in another pan. The Tongan was probably dead to God by now.

"That's not breakfast, that's salmonella." Kainga mumbled and gestured at burnt scrambled eggs and what looked like a charred hash brown, scorched beyond revival. No wonder it smelt so burnt. He looked over at the table top, two cups of tea lay waiting. Kainga had never felt so domestic, relationship wise. If it wasn't for the food poisoning James was cooking up, it was very nice to say the least.

James nudged him playfully and watched him walk over to the table. "Whatever. Food is food. It's better than that long looking stuff you constantly eat."

"You mean my instant ramen? I'm a student. It gets me through. Plus it's cheap and I still don't have a job." Kainga smiled gently at him before sitting down at the table with a blanket he'd stolen from the apartment reception. He curled himself up and nursed the cup in his hands. It wasn't even cold, just warm enough to be drinkable. How long had James been here? He was very tempted to question him about the dreams he'd been having. But Satan would most likely just boast in his face about how Kainga was dreaming about him and ramble about how they were 'meant to be' again. He brought the tea up to his lips, the warm liquid bringing him back to life.

James interrupts his tranquility once again with a plate placed in front of Kainga. A breakfast of scrambled eggs that looked like a mush of wet cardboard atop a piece of toast that looked like a shaped out lump of charcoal. The only thing that wasn't burnt was the bacon, which would've been the only thing safe to eat even if it was burnt. The whole plate of food seemed to be radiating like it was a romantic breakfast in Chernobyl. Kainga audibly gulped.

"You...made all this yourself huh?" He weakly picked at the bacon that was in the shape of a love heart on the side of his plate. How, dare he say cute.

James perked up and looked at him with a mouthful of his own scrambled cardboard mush. His eyes bright like a child on Christmas morning.

"Yeah I did...~ how could you tell?"

"L-lucky guess..." He gave the biblical creature sat opposite him a rather gauche smile. He just sits and drinks his tea before even thinking about starting on his poison infected breakfast. Despite his lack of skills in gastronomy or basic cooking for that matter, it seemed James meant well. The way he dinkily smiled like a moron without a care in the world, Kainga couldn't help but wonder what was even going on inside his head. If there was anything going on inside his head. This was ridiculous; he wasn’t falling for Satan, was he? The guy was as far from prince charming as one could get and yet he was nowhere near as idiotic as he had been.

James finished up his plate of food before pushing it to the side, bringing his chair closer to the table as if he was about to interrogate him. Kainga managed to barely swallow down the mush of eggs, looking up at him with a lump welling up in his throat. Oh thank God, a reason to stop eating. He put his utensils down to listen to what the King of Hell had to say for himself.

"So, will you be busy today?”

“I handed that paper in last week and I have no current assignments, why do you ask?”

“We’re going on another date.”

“Another thing at a reasonable time, wow James I’m impressed.” He drawls, laughing a little at how proud James looks because he thinks he’s impressed him. Satan wasn’t supposed to be this endearing; Satan was supposed to be a dickhead. Then again, he supposes James more or less was one to begin with. It seemed with every word that James spoke he was becoming less demon. His human side was showing like he was gaining back a humanity that was lost long ago.

"Well, I've got some kingly duties back in Hell to attend to, but I can pick you up later in the afternoon." he chuffs proudly at referring to himself as 'Kingly'. "What time suits you best?"

Kainga hesitantly pushed his plate to the side. "A time? You're asking ME what time I want?" he asked, bewildered.

James just nodded quickly, smiling at him. Kainga was beyond suspicious yet somewhat amazed at him not being a arrogant fucking prick for once. He didn't keep his hopes high however.

"Umm...well it depends where you're taking me..."

"Oh. Well it's a surprise...~" James winks at him and leans back in his chair, holding his mug of tea in his hands and heating it up with his self-heating palms.

"Well. I need to get some shopping in first. Maybe about 1 or 2 I suppose? It shouldn't take that long. Plus I need to get ready."

"Ahh make yerself look pretty for me huh?~"

There it was. Back to the usual James. Kainga's stare hardened, yet he blushed at his sentiment, rather heavily. He frowns in bemusement and looks away from him.

"No. It's so I don't go out in public looking like I just got dragged through a dumpster."

"Oh please, you don't look like a dumpster. You didn't last time!"

"If that's a complement from you then I'm flattered." He murmured sarcastically. Grinning at James's expression dimming from prideful to confused. He finished his tea, placing the cup beside him.

James took that as an opportunity to switch the conversation back to the date.

"So, I'll come and pick you up at 1? I'll knock this time."

Kainga hummed and squinted at him. Why was be being awfully nice to him? Perhaps he had other intentions, or had changed his original ploy. Either way he was doubtful. He hated to admit it, but he liked this James. His cooking was unsatisfactory but he kept telling himself that James meant well above all. He smiled tenderly.

"Yeah. That sounds good. Thank you James."

James winks at him, taking their plates as he brushes past Kainga and with that he disappears. Kainga was left feeing oddly flattered, Lord only knows why he felt like that. He felt tingly and warm, the pits of his stomach churning in a flustered manner. Like he'd ate something bad but it felt amazing. He grimaced. It was probably that food that James had served up to him. He didn't feel sick however, it was a strange feeling. Like James had endeared him. Like he was starting to like him. Kainga instantly shook the thought away as he stood up sharply. What was this. Maybe it'll pass. He hoped it would pass. As the kettle boiled on the countertop, as Kainga poured the hot water into his mug and watched it brew with the teabag. The feeling didn't pass. He bit his lip as he kept pouring the boiled water, making it overflow while Kainga stood there, not noticing. His consciousness completely out of it.

Shit...

He was in love with the Devil.

---

Funny how much time can pass when you genuinely are looking forward to something. With his errands completed, Kainga stumbled through the door holding three large paper bags full of groceries. He heaved himself and the abnormally heavy bags into his apartment, dropping a can of baked beans beside him. He audibly groaned as he hefted the bags onto the table, practically gasping for air. Maybe he should buy a car. Who was he kidding he didn't even have his drivers license and frankly after his experiences, he'd rather stay far away from them all together. Maybe a bus card would be better. After a breather he started to unpack the shopping, his coat hung on the back of his chair.

Once he finished unpacking it was nearing 1'o clock already so he went to start getting ready. Although he didn't like to admit it, he was rather excited about where James would take him. Sure he took him to a greasy Fish and Chip shack in Wellington before but surely James would have some new found knowledge of reasonable places to take someone on a nice date. Maybe a romantic breakfast in Paris or running across rooftops as the night set in, the Eiffel Tower illuminating the city. Or something more thrilling, gambling in Las Vegas, even a skyline dinner overlooking New York or somewhere mountainous and beautiful like Queenstown. The possibilities were limitless, he'd be lying to himself if he said this wasn't the most excited he had been for something in a while.

He quickly got ready, throwing on a white long sleeved shirt with a button-down collar to fit in a striped dark blue tie that was fastened tightly against his neck. Autumn or Spring are unpredictable so he put on a basic V-neck blue sweater overtop, bringing his collar out so the top of the tie knot was still visible. Finally navy trousers and polished leather black shoes and socks. He liked to dress smart, yet he still looked causal as he didn't know where he was going to end up. Standing in front of the mirror he puffed out his chest with pride, his blood running with excitement as the clock hits 1.

James arrives at 1'o clock like he stated, his presence announced with a knock on the door in a sweet rhythmic tone. Kainga had just finished giving his hair one last curl before he stands up to open the door for him. If he’s honest with himself, he’s flattered that the other was doing as he’d requested, something as simple as just being on time. He opens the door to find James standing there in his same causal suit he'd worn last time, however the bright red tie was missing as he was just wearing a black cuffed long sleeved Plaid shirt with a belt and pants. In his grasp was a bouquet of Heilala flowers. Vermilion cherry red flowers that sprouted magnificent Hibiscus flowers in full bloom, displaying a shade of vivid cerise of pinks to reds. Tonga's national flower.

James's smile was so cheesy it could make you lactose intolerant.

Kainga was amazed. Quite like nothing he'd experienced or expected. He stood in the doorway with his mouth agape at the sight of him. Had he really gone out of his way to buy him these particular flowers? James quite audibly cleared his throat.

"G'day smuckaroo~"

Kainga raised a brow at him.

"Smuckaroo?"

"In me defense you gave me, what, a few hours to come up with a new nickname." James jokingly complained. Kainga laughed.

"To be fair, I don't mind it. Also you didn't say much about today so I didn't know what to- WEAR-!"

Kainga was interrupted by James shoving the flowers into his chest, some of the buds hitting his face making him jump a little. His sentence was muffled after getting a face full of flowers.

"T-these are for you!!! I wasn't sure what flowers you liked so I got you these because they're Heilala and they're your countries national flowers and whatnot!" He spoke quickly as if he was embarrassed by his sweet gesture. Like the Devil giving out flowers made him seem weak or soft but he knew that he'd only do this for one person and one person only.

Kainga's cheeks burned up vividly as he took them from James's large hands, admiring them. His hands wrapped around the base of the bouquet, tied up neatly with a silk red ribbon.

"O-oh? You got me flowers? Ah...wow James. They're very beautiful. Remind me of home..." he held them close to his chest until his face was as red as the petals. How sweet of James. He smiled fondly. "I'll go put them in some water and be right out okay?" He uttered before walking back inside and placing the flowers in a large vase on his table. Leaving James out in the apartment corridor to feel even more proud of himself, sub-consciously feeding his probably massive ego. He did a excited little air fist bump to congratulate himself as he waited.

Kainga came back out to the dingy corridor a little while later, locking up his flat door before turning back to James.

"Right. Thank you for waiting." Kainga pockets his key heavy keychain, eyeing further down James's suit. That's when he realizes the gumboots he's wearing. Right. New Zealander. He wasn't even surprised at this point. A fancy clean suit topped off with a pair of muddied gumboots. Maybe the Devil doesn't wear Prada, no. The Devil wears gumboots. Kainga doesn't mention it, he simply retorted his gaze back at James's punchable stupid face and gave him a rather pointed look. "So...where exactly ARE we heading today?"

James grinned. "I told you, it's a surprise! I'm sure you'll like it though!~" He held out his hand for Kainga to hold on to, which he does. Kainga takes his hand. He knew the drill. Teleportation with a danger of being ripped in half. How romantic. James takes it a step further however, wrapping his arm around Kainga's waist. Before he even had time to react James snapped his fingers. That pull at the pit of his stomach like his intestines were being unraveled out of his body washes over him, James falling through fast winds like the world was turning upside-down. His breath taken from him by the high velocity winds, allowing him no room to scream. He accepts his fate and clings onto James for dear life until they finally drop to the floor.

There's was a ringing in his ear, a loud one. He became dizzy but not as much as before, his whole body felt translucent as the cold winds died around them. Kainga still clung onto James as he came back to his senses. His hearing came first as his ears popped. There are noises. People in a fairly populated area, what sounded like some children with their families. The ringing of a cellphone. It was definitely an outdoor environment. Kainga looked up, finally realizing where they were once his eyes caught sight of their surroundings.

"A-a...zoo?"

"Yeah! Auckland zoo darlin'!!! You're studying Zoology as well as Literature ain't ya? And yer file says you like animals so I brought you to the best zoo in the country!"

Kainga gently let go of James and rubbed his eyes. Examining the sight of the less populated zoo before giving James a thrilled look.

"James I...wow. Oh shit this is amazing...really!" The Tongan's whole aura seems to brighten as he got happier. Kainga quickly grabbed James's hand, wasting no time at all he hurriedly dragged James to see the animals. James tripped and laughed it off as he followed this new side of Kainga.

They paced along the well packed paths and jarred fences around the zoo. Dense jungle leaves against the bamboo thickets blurred in their line of sight as Kainga hurried to see everything yet keeping his well structured plan that he bored James with along the way. Every pathway curving along the enclosures of incredible and exotic beasts, the zoo sectioned off into certain areas based on country or continent. The exotic breeds from all over the world left him breathless, watching the different colors of each species and how they fly across the perfect replica of their natural habitat was an enthralling experience. All the animals make him feel like they have entered the incredible depths of Amazon jungle. The atmosphere and the cage designs seemed as real as nature itself.

Kainga stops by the South American exhibit to admire the vibrant and vivid colors of the parrots. What surprised him the most was that it was an open enclosure, meaning the parrots could fly around an open space where tourists walked through as they pleased. An eye-catching Blue and Gold Macaw perched on a high branch just above Kainga. James smiled as Kainga giggled at the bird, softly petting it's beautifully preened feathers.

"I take it you like birds the most then huh?" James mentions as the bird puffed out its feathers in a sign of enjoyment. Another Macaw came up behind James and curiously pecked at a folded up map he's holding, making James jump and swatting harmlessly at the cheeky bird. It flapped it's wings and squawked at him rather loudly, James was holding back the urge to squawk back at it.

"Avians have always been my favorite. There's something so magnificent about them. I adore all the tropical species, especially the ones back home."

The Macaw took flight from beside him and landed back on it's perch high in the tropical lush trees that shaded the entire area. Kainga watched it fly away with awe before noticing a keeper in a red polo shirt and microphone preforming with the dazzling birds. Kainga was transfixed by the colors of the large parrots and they spun and shimmered against the light that cut through the trees. The keeper spoke to the gathering crowd of visitors. Kainga was about to ask if they wanted to go and watch before his arm was grabbed and dragged away by James. He made a disgruntled yelp but followed, James making an excitable claim about seeing the "Ripper crocodiles they had here!" Going against Kainga's structured plan of the date.

"James?! I thought we were seeing the elephants next?"

"Are yer serious?" James asked with a grin, looking over his shoulder at him. "Do we need to plan everything?"

"Yes, James. I am serious. Zoo going is a serious business." Kainga retorted with a straight face. He couldn't hold it and let a small laugh escape. "At least a general direction will do, so we don't waste time going all over the place in zigzags."

James rolled his eyes and scoffed. "C'mon. Live a little would ya?! We got all afternoon here and frankly I'd rather spend it looking at giant man-eating lizards!" He exclaimed that like there was nothing more romantic than seeing a 500 kilogram or so prehistoric beast rip apart a raw chicken or a full leg of a cow. After the dreams Kainga had been having, he might as well be sick to his stomach even thinking about it.

"Well if you want to see the crocodiles, we're going the wrong way. You're holding the map upside down James."

---

The date goes, dare he say perfectly. They explored every area of the zoo as the evening started to set in, Kainga made sure that he saw everything no matter the animal or enclosure. James occasionally boasting about how he created some of these animals, ever so causally. Mainly the dangerous, venomous creatures that could kill you within seconds. They'd seen everything from swinging monkey's to large carnivorous cats like lions and tigers. Kainga stood on his tippy toes and leaned over the railing to get a view of each one. Running his fingers along the glass at the Orangutan exhibit and watching in awe as they swung around their enclosure with remarkable balance. There was only one area left. The one James was most excited about showing Kainga that he'd saved until last. The area at the very back of the zoo past the frigid penguin and seal enclosure.

Most tourists start to vacate the zoo as darkness rears its head over the blue skies, creating a symphony of crimson and orange tinges that form the sunset. James lead Kainga deeper as the thicket around them seem to darken too, becoming more native to the New Zealand bush with deep green ferns beginning to line the wooden boardwalk. With all of the crowds gone, Kainga was met with the sounds of the zoo. A distant river rushing and what sounded like a waterfall against native bird song that echoed from the canopy. A lot of it too.

"Oh? James where are we?" Kainga asked him in a hasty whisper, like they weren't supposed to be here.

"Yer said ya liked birds right?"

"Yes. I did..."

"Well we're in the New Zealand bird section. It's a giant aviary full of native birds. There's a look-out at the top too! C'mon!"

They came to a small gate that was the entrance to the whole massive exhibit. An entire enclosed jungle inside of it, the whole aviary like a hidden paradise that mimicked the natural beauty of the New Zealand forest like it was sliced right from one. James dragged Kainga through rather roughly, making the Tongan yell at him.

Dusk stained the glistening foliage with shadow and murk. As nightfall descended, the sounds of the jungle began to ebb. Uncertainty hung in the warm, wet air as the creatures began to prepare for the long stretch of darkness. Kainga trailed James as they walked through, the sound of his shoes hitting the damp mossy trail, that switched from gravelly dirt to a boardwalk that took them higher into the dense undergrowth. He caught sight of a small stream that trickled down the rocky surface next to the boardwalk, eventually leading to a waterfall that glistened in the little light that was emitted as the canopy covered what little of the days light was left. Causing bright dashes of color around the forest. The hurried flapping of bird wings as curious Fantails perched themselves along the trees next to the track, dancing and swaying their black and white tail feathers as they twirled around the couple. Perhaps hoping to get a closer look with their eccentric chirping. James stopped to let Kainga watch them.

Finally they made it up the wooden stairs to a large balcony, looking over the whole of the aviary like a king looked over his kingdom. Kainga instantly went to the end of the deck and looked over the lush canopy below. Various leaves rustled with signs of life within them, an array of bird song sang out like a choir. Not in sync but beautiful nonetheless. Kainga watched in wonderment at the sight, he crossed his arms and rested them on the wooden railing. He gazed out.

"Oh James...it's beautiful. Really. This is wonderful." He addressed him as he saw James come and lean on the fence next to him in his peripheral vision. His smile was warm and bright.

"I knew you'd like it. Rather peaceful up here isn't it." James watched Kainga smile as he watched out. The way it made him feel was different. Kainga's smile was captivating him. So much so that he'd rather watch him smile subtly than watch the setting sun over the forest. Kainga did notice. When it came to James he wasn't really subtle. About anything. He found it charming. The simple fact that James was watching him smile, made him smile more.

It was a short while of tranquility before it was broken by the real reason they were up here. Birds started to appear from their hides once the pair were stationary. First a Tīeke flapped beside Kainga's arm, making its way to the various fruits on the bird feeder beside them. It's black and brown pigment almost blended in with the damp wood. It wasn't long before more birds came to feed. A pair of curious Kākās perched on the thick branches, alongside a dazzling Wood Pigeon that was sat preening its verdant feathers.

They soon had a collection of native birds surrounding them. Rainbow lorikeets showing off their flamboyant bright colored feathers as they began to feed as well. Various smaller finches and Fantails got closer to Kainga's hands, flying close to him so much so that he could feel the air being beaten off their small wings. They danced around them like a scripted ballet performance in the air. Some brave Gouldian finches even perching on Kainga's palm and fingers chirping at him like they were telling him the latest gossip. Kainga laughed with the light tickling of their small claws on his skin before watching them fly to the bird feeder beside him. He turns his attention back to James, now only realizing how close they were together.

"Hey James?"

James paused to give him a bit of a weird look. Kainga more focused on the flashy Wood Pigeon now so James shrugs it off.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me about yourself."

Kainga finally speaks up about the important questions in their relationship. If they were going to move further that is. And the truth is, he really didn't know all that much about James. Other than the fact we was as dumb as a pile of bricks.

"You...want to know about me?"

Kainga gulps as he fears he's struck a nerve within the Devil beside him with James's sudden tense. To his surprise. James just smiles, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah. I do."

"Well there really isn't much to say. Or to know really," The New Zealander replies. ",I was born in heaven as an angel, given the name Lucifer by birth. Ever since eyes were laid upon me I was the favorite of the Archangels. I was incredibly good looking I must say..." he laughed before pausing. Almost sadly. "And. As the story goes. I was God's favorite."

Kainga almost feels pity for him as James gives him a saddened side glance. James kept going as Kainga rested his head on his shoulder gently.

"According to the other angels, I became so impressed with my own beauty, intelligence and power that I started to desire more. I was greedy. I wanted the honor and glory that belonged to God and God alone. Even though he loved me like his own. I was young and stupid. I felt like I could do more, be more than who I was. As my version goes, I was the one who asked for a pay rise and got kicked out of Heaven." Even though James laughed, it seemed he was just joking to cover up the pain in his voice at the retelling.

"The sin that corrupted me was self-generated pride. I fought them off until I was on the edge of Heaven."

"Fought who?"

"The other angels. They started to tear at my wings, they ripped 'em right off my body. War broke out in Heaven. God did nothing to stop them. I had my reasons. I had my rights! But this all perfect all loving all forgiving God couldn't find it in himself to love me again, nevermind forgive me. Sometimes I ask myself if he still loves me like he did before. My revolt was unsuccessful and I was kicked out of heaven and fell to plummet to the underworld. I no longer deserved my place in Heaven and I was replaced. It's only for the stuck up snobs that prefer a perfect boring good life anyways. With that, I started to build Hell with my own two hands. I lifted it from the dirt and dust and created a haven for the imperfect to thrive. So expectations of a superior God wouldn't constantly force them to be something they're not. Despite what those God manipulated mortals wrote in that fucking book, Hell is not what it seems."

James's breath is hasty before he finishes up, leaving him rather silent. Kainga softly takes his hand, unsure of what even to say. James's hand grips his as Kainga ushered. "I'm sorry..." Maybe he shouldn't of asked.

"It's....It's okay. I've learned from it, I'm now King of Hell and get to bully the absolute shit out of Catholics. In all honesty I'd rather be Satan or James than Lucifer."

"Do you, not like being called Lucifer?"

James shook his head. "No. Lucifer was an angel. Lucifer was Gods favorite. I'm not him anymore."

"In all visual depictions of Satan I've seen, you've always had wings. Why don't you have any now?"

"Well, they were torn from me body. Some presume I got new wings but I didn't. Perhaps it was the final punishment, so I couldn't fly back up to the golden gates of Heaven. I've still got little stubs from where they used to be though. Wanna touch 'em?!"

"What?! Fuck no!"

"Oh c'mon! Sometimes they get a little juicy-"

"JAMES FUCK OFF-"

The mood is quickly lightened again as Kainga ducked under the playful swipe James threw at him in an attempt to catch him. The Tongan avoiding touching those wing stubs like the plague, laughing all the while he's slowly backed against the railing. James eventually caught him by his hips. Kainga expected him to tell him to touch it again, but he did something a lot more surprising. James holds his hips and kisses him instead. No crucifix to burn his lips this time. The only heat coming from his mouth was the passionate intertwining of their lips as Kainga kissed him back. It only grew deeper as Kainga moved his hands from his chest to wrap his arms around his neck. He doesn't notice the hands under his shirt until they start to softly knead at the skin above his waist. There's no room to separate them anymore. Not with James's warm hands touching further up the sides of his body. He almost forgets that they're in a public place. He almost forgets that he's making out with Satan.

Kainga barely noticed a thing. He thought the tug at his stomach was just butterflies. You can imagine his shock when the foundations of his balance crumble and he lands on his back against the sheets of a bed. He opened his mouth to say something, most likely profanity before James cuts him off and the kissing resumes. That familiar glow of the curtains behind James. Shit. They were back at his apartment. In his bed.

James is surprisingly gentle with him. As gentle as the Devil could be at least. The burning sensation of his lips travels down his neck and shoulders, allowing Kainga to gasp out for breath. He started to remove his clothes like one would undress a doll, his mouth always pressed against some form of his flesh. Kainga spluttered slightly as lewd noises started to spill from his lips as James is not too hasty, nor too rough with him once he finally intensified his movements. Bite marks are left stinging on his collar bone as James builds up his release, matching the scratch marks Kainga left on his back. He was right about the stubs where his wings once were. Kainga was too out of it to notice, squirming below him before there's a pause and sweet relief. Everything seemed to burn.

So. That was sex huh? Before that encounter he'd seen sex as overrated and bland. Before that encounter he was a virgin.

He just had his first time with Satan. Fucking. Satan.

#fic: call me satan darling #aph new zealand #hetalia #hws new zealand #zeaonga #aph tonga #hetalia oc #hws tonga #ao3 fanfic #aph #my mental health is in shambles #help #aph denmark #hws denmark #aph finland #hws finland #aph philippines #hws philippines

7 notes · View notes

the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years ago

Text

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 12 FINALE

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: Nope! Notes: How lovely it has been, to go on this journey with you. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to every person who has liked, reblogged, or left a kind comment on this story. Combined, you all have genuinely changed my life. I'm writing more than ever, more consistently, and I'm having a blast. So if you like this story, and wish it wasn't ending, well... maybe don't worry too much. There will be a sequel of sorts, same timeline but new reader, instead focusing on Cassandra. Also oops this is hella long. And mostly dialogue. Past Chapters: Pt. 1: Nocturne, Pt. 2: Overture, Pt. 3: Accelerando, Pt. 4: Toccata, Pt. 5: Poco a Poco, Pt. 6: Elegy, Pt. 7: Harmony, Pt. 8: Obbligato, Pt. 9: Berceuse, Pt. 10b: Hymn AMAB, Pt 11: Cadence

Chapter 12: Cadence (Reprise)

(Cadence: Two chords that mark the end of a song)

Truth be told, she had never expected much of anything to come from this. ‘Twas not that she thought her daughter to be talentless, or that she denied the capabilities of the servant-turned-teacher, rather that she knew just how difficult it was to keep Daniela’s attention for any measure of time. Even as the weeks went by with undeniable progress, there was a part of her awaiting the collapse of it all. How long would this instructor last? How long before they were drained of blood, either for some perceived insult, or merely out of boredom? Surely, in the end, Alcina would not need to lift a single finger.

And yet here she was, at the end of a concert, pride roaring within her chest. What had she missed? What clues had eluded her, what had changed within her child’s nature? She knew that there were hints of deeper affections, fragments of a would-be love, but she had thought them miniscule. Thought that those feelings were doomed to crash and burn, unable to live up to the expectations set by decades of romance novels. Well, maybe they had failed. Maybe, somehow, Alcina had missed something else entirely.

The thought might have sent a shiver down her spine, if she weren’t so readily distracted by praising her youngest child… or by the looming shadow of a life-changing revelation.

“Mother… we need to talk. I… I have a confession to make,” Daniela explains, hesitantly slow, but with a conviction she rarely ever showed. Taken aback by the unexpected announcement, Alcina pauses, silently awaiting some form of elaboration. Instead, Daniela takes her hand, pulling her towards a set of chairs. They sit gingerly, each feeling the weight of terrifying possibilities upon their shoulders. When she at last continues speaking, she does so without a trace of showmanship or false bravado, trading it in for heartfelt sincerity. “I love them. All of this- these lessons, this concert- has been for them. For my sweet, innocent little songbird.” So here it was, the birthplace of her fears, brought forth from her mind into reality.

“I was afraid you would say that,” Alcina muses, leaning back into the chair with a deep sigh. Something itches in the back of her throat, and she yearns for her pipe, or even just a normal cigarette to distract herself. Without one, she is left to metaphorically chew on her thoughts. Realistically, there has to be some way to deal with this, some way that she can convince her daughter of the sheer foolishness of this mess. “Daniela… how can I put this in a way you will understand, hmm?… The two of you have only known each other for three months. There is no chance that you truly love them, or them you. How close can you possibly have become?”

“When have I cared about anything for three whole months? I dedicated myself to-” Daniela is cut off by the sound of the door opening, revealing the rest of her little family. It was guaranteed that they would have heard the conversation from outside, seeing as they were all inhuman, though they perhaps intended to intervene. A single hard glance from both of the room’s occupants convinces them to change their minds. “Wait, Ava, can you get us some tea, please? Something tells me I’ll need a soothing drink soon.” Hesitating in the doorway, the butler in question eyes the both of them, naturally tempted to stay and fill the role of a therapist.

“I do believe my daughter gave you an order, Ava. Don’t tell me you have forgotten the stipulations of your agreement with Mother Miranda?” Alcina interjects. With that said, the butler finally moves, exiting with an apologetic bow. An awkward silence hangs in the air once xe closes the door behind xerself, as Daniela takes a moment to recall her place.

“Three months is a long time for me. I put all of my energy towards both them and what they taught me, almost every single day. Even when their work kept them busy for too long, I still practiced, because I wanted to make them proud! For all my flirting, I’ve never bonded with anyone this way before now,” she says, hating the way her voice gets a little shaky. No matter how much confidence she has in her own writing, it is another thing entirely to be convincing out loud, with a truth she had been hiding for so long. All of her practice had been with lies. Now she had to contest with the hope that the strength of her emotions would be enough. “That song we played together, at the end, they wrote that for me. Doesn’t that mean something?”

“Oh, my dear… I want you to be happy more than anything. But we both know that your ‘history’ is stained with a number of incidents. You have always been absorbed within those books you read, and the fantasies that they provide for you. It is one thing to enjoy these stories on the side, but another matter entirely to let them corrupt your relations with others. As your mother, it is my duty to keep you safe, first and foremost,” Alcina proclaims, sitting up straighter, trying not to let her frown evolve into a full out scowl. Beneath the table, her hands ball into fists, clutched tight to stop herself from breaking the table. In the back of her mind she could think of little other than dismembering that damned piano instructor. Focusing on the discussion at hand, she takes a deep breath before finalizing her point. “You don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like, nor what it feels like. Your books are not ideal models for reference. One- or both- of you are going to end up suffering, and that is something I cannot allow, regardless of how ‘happy’ they make you before then.”

“You’re right,” Daniela whispers in defeat… or a feigned version of it. A split second later she’s making eye contact with her mother again, lips curling up into a smile. “I didn’t want to admit it, especially not to someone as attractive, talented, and charming as my Songbird, but I didn’t have to. They understood from the very start. We talked about it, about my expectations and my shitty behavior, and we worked on it. We’re still working on it. Maybe there will be bumps along the way, just like in every relationship, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be worth it in the end. What we have is still real, and they make me want to be a better woman. I know they’ve already helped me make the change.”

Once more the door opens, making the conversation pause, as Ava near-silently brings in the requested tea. If a pin had dropped at that moment, it would have felt as ear-shattering loud as a gong. Every second that passed felt like it dragged on, stretched out by the tension in the room, as though xe was moving in slow motion. The ‘clink’ of ceramic against the table makes xer flinch, almost spilling the tea. Neither Alcina nor Daniela react, or even acknowledge xer presence with anything more than their eyes, instead remaining impassive until xe makes a hasty retreat.

“Use what you’ve learned on someone else, then. Perhaps another one of Miranda’s experiments will someday provide a suitable match. But this ‘songbird’ of yours? They’re nothing. A human, a servant, they are not worth your time, nor are they worth mine. No matter what words or songs they weave, or illusions of grandeur they show you, you will end up getting bored of them. I’m afraid it is inevitable, my dear,” Alcina says, as soon as the door is closed once more. Then she attends to her tea, with the composure of someone convinced that they had just won an argument. On the other hand, Daniela was not so quick to give in, some of her worry melting into anger.

“How can you say that? How can you be sure? We were all human, once! Even Mother Miranda was human. And my Songbird is no mere human- they are wondrous, with flowery prose and lovely melodies, with soft-lipped smiles and reassuring eyes, and don’t even get me started on how beautiful they are!” She rambles, voice getting louder with every word. All at once it is too much for Alcina, who sets down her glass a little too hard, nostrils flaring as she stares at her daughter. When Daniela speaks again, she does so with love coating her tone. “We have weathered each other’s anxieties with no signs of stopping. I promised that we would weather yours.”

“I only want you to be happy. I need you to understand where I am coming from. This may be your longest lasting infatuation so far, but you have yet to honestly convince me that this is any different from your past ‘distractions’. I’m sorry, Daniela, I simply cannot allow this to continue,” Alcina sighs, hating to break her youngest daughter’s heart like this. There was only one thing that Daniela had yet to try. Maybe two, if she was willing to resort to begging.

“Can’t you trust me enough to give us a chance? Cassandra of all people seems to understand. Bela went as far as to lie to you, for our sake! She never does anything she thinks will hurt me, or you, or any of us. Please, mother, please. How can you ever know if what I have will last, if you cut it down now? Are you going to wait forever for some ‘perfect candidate’ for me? And what if that person loves someone else? Or what if the ‘perfect’ person doesn’t exist! What if we’re stuck waiting for them like Mother Miranda waits for another child, hmm? Would you have me spend another century alone, my only memory of genuine romance being poisoned by the thought that you broke us apart?” Daniela’s words ring throughout the chamber, echoing a damning accusation, somehow more bitter than the taste they left in her mouth.

All at once, Alcina’s heart takes a hit like no other. Her hands damn-near tremble, her lungs ache, her lips purse, and her brow furrows. So be it, she thinks.

“Bring this ‘Songbird’ here. Let me talk to them.”

—————————

Goddess, you are practically vibrating at the speed of sound, palms sweaty, nervousness trashing your mind. What the hell had Daniela done? Last thing you knew, she was determined to keep your secret, even if meant being unable to celebrate with you. But now you were getting tugged along by her, while tears threatened to spill from her eyes. She had said something about “mother” and “important”. That was all the context that you had been given. When you round one last corner, pulling up in front of Lady Dimitrescu’s study, you are shown a sight that somehow makes you feel worse: Bela, Cassandra, and Ava are all resting outside of the room. They appear exhausted, and motion for you to be quiet as you approach.

“They’ve been listening in on our conversation,” Daniela admits with a whisper. Then she’s pulling you into the study, ensuring that the door doesn’t open wide enough for the eavesdroppers to get spotted. Something told you that Alcina was already well aware of their presence. “Alright, mother, here is my Songbird. What did you want to ask us?”

“Daniela… leave us. My questions are for ‘Songbird’ alone,” Alcina replies, seemingly confirming the absolute worst of your fears. This was where you would die. By her hand, without your lover by your side, after what could have been the happiest night of your life. Of course. But Daniela is not willing to go without a fight. As soon as the words leave her mother’s mouth, she is moving between the two of you, just as she had when she first called you her teacher. Before she can speak, her mother stands up and stares her down. “Don’t make me ask again- there will not be a third time.” When she still hesitates, it is your turn to be brave.

“Hey, it’s okay, we’ll be okay,” you promise her, reaching out to take her hand. Instantly she’s returning to your side, hand cupping your cheek, eyes filled to the brim with sadness. “Firefly… ‘Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days’. I love you. Nothing is going to change that, not now, not ever. We’ll be okay.” Maybe not now, you think, but you’ll be okay eventually. Cassandra and Bela, and Ava I suppose, will make sure of it.

“Okay. We’ll last until the end of days. I love you too,” Daniela says, swallowing the lump in her throat. With one last kiss she pulls away, wishing that her departure didn’t feel so much like a betrayal. She pauses in the doorway, meeting your gaze, unable to bring herself to move until you give her an accepting nod. The door swings into place with a click, sealing the room and your fate.

“So,” Alcina begins, returning to her seat as she does. For now you stay standing, unsure of just about every part of this situation, especially your upcoming role in it. “You have been deceiving me. That alone is a crime worthy of severe punishment, and yet you stooped so low as to do far, far more. I had hoped you had, somehow, managed to teach my daughter a real lesson, that you had inspired a love of music in her, that you had made an honest difference in the way she learns. But all this time… it has been nothing more than a ruse.” The last word comes out dipped in venom, acidic enough to make you flinch. Thankfully, your beloved was not the only person who had a gift with words. More than that, this was a topic that you had spent numerous nights thinking about, making you as prepared as you could ever hope to be.

“You know, as much as I desire to claim that I am that interesting, or that Daniela felt so strongly from the very start, I can do no such thing. The truth is this: Music is what brought us together in the first place. It was the catalyst for our first real interaction, the first time she ever looked at me as more than just another servant or bloodbag. We bonded because of it, and so when we went to play together, to learn, Daniela honestly did connect to it,” you explain, despite the fire in Alcina’s expression. To your surprise, she does not interrupt you, and you take it as permission to keep going. Which was very good, considering that being nervous only made you ramble more. “Music is something we’ve shared for the entirety of our relationship. Even if it’s not something she would do much of on her own, I know that she’s grown to care for it more than she might be willing to admit. And, well…

“Even if you decide that what I’ve done is unforgivable, even if I’m destined to die within the hour, I know in my heart that everything the two of us worked on still matters. Because, like it or not, she is capable of growth, of change, of progress. And even if I die, someone else will come afterwards. Daniela will get to use music as a way to forge connections for the rest of her life, now that she knows it works, now that she knows how it works. And every goddamn time that she plays, or Bela plays, or you play, she’s going to remember me. She’ll remember every moment we spent together, every piece we ever played. I’ll live on in the melodies we made. In the song that you can’t quite place, that gets stuck on loop in your head. In the song the maids sing to themselves between shifts. In the quiet evening when the rain against the window feels so much like a familiar rhythm that your daughters can’t help but start humming along, without even thinking, muscle memories in sync.”

“Are you trying to convince me that there’s no point in killing you? That, regardless, you will be in my life until the end of time?” Alcina’s eyes are narrowed, but there isn’t even a hint of anger in her tone. Just curiosity.

“No, not really. Guess I’m just making peace with my fate the best way I know how- by remembering the echoes I’ll leave behind,” you answer, pausing to wipe a few tears from your eyes. All you can think about is how much Daniela will miss you. How much pain you think she’ll go through. Because at this point, who are you trying to fool with your hope? Yourself, or the people listening?

“Hmm. I think I understand. Now, tell me… what was that you said to my daughter a minute ago, before she left the room? It sounded familiar, though I cannot place it,” Alcina questions, idly toying with her glass of tea. You’re not entirely sure why it matters to her, but you have no qualms delaying the inevitable by answering. Besides, it was a chance to talk about how much you loved Daniela (and you’d never skip such an opportunity).

“It’s a line from a poem she wrote for me. “Tell me love, we shall last until the end of days”. A promise. The song Daniela and I played together… I wrote it in response. My way of doing what she asked of me, I guess. Like I said, she’ll always have the music we shared,” you answer, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

“Damn this… I can hardly believe I am asking this, yet I feel I have no choice: Tell me, do you love my daughter? Do you honestly, with your entire being, desire a future with her? Or was this a game of survival you couldn’t afford to lose, that turned out to be more ‘fun’ than you had anticipated? Show me your heart, as it is, bare as it would be if I tore it from your chest, this very moment.” There’s no room for argument in her voice, using the very same tone she reserved for maidens who got a tad too close to refusing her.

“Alright. It was a game. At first. Daniela wanted a distraction, something to entertain her. I didn’t want to die, like I had heard so many of her ‘playmates’ did. I can’t tell you when things changed, at least not for her,” you confess, with a shaky breath. Did that make you a monster? One worthy of death? If so, you wondered if it actually made you more fit to date Daniela. “For me… I just remember her smiling wide at me, hand on my cheek, having just cracked some lame joke. Next thing I knew, well, I knew. We had a spark of something, and all I could think about was how badly I wanted to make her happy, you know? All the sudden there was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I just wanted to see that smile again, everyday for the rest of my life.

“To answer your question: Yes. Goddess, yes. A thousand times yes. A ‘yes’ for every smile she’s ever shown me, for every butterfly in my stomach, for every time she’s held my hand, for every breath she’s stolen from my lungs, and for every single time my heart has skipped a beat in her name. I love her. I know we haven’t been together long, but the things I feel are undeniable. I will give her every part of myself, for as long as she wants me, for as long as I am blessed to live,” you pour your heart out, weaving your heartbeat into every turn of phrase, spilling your lifeblood onto the very conversation.

“And what will you do if she does change her mind? If she grows bored of you, as she has done with a dozen others?” Alcina counters without hesitation.

“I will weep. I will fall to my knees, and mourn this beautiful thing. But I will cherish every memory she leaves to me. Every moment where I am hers is a moment worth living, worth remembering. It will be better to have loved her with all my heart for a little slice of her immortality, than to love another, lesser so, for all of my life.” With that, Alcina sets her empty glass of tea onto the table, eying you with an unreadable expression. Something seems to stir in her chest, and at last the mask crumbles. She smiles.

“I see. Daniela, you may come back in now. Do not bother pretending that you have not been eavesdropping.” Not even a full second passes before the door opens, revealing a shaking Daniela, both of her sisters quite visible behind her (though they quickly move out of frame, leaving behind Ava, who gives a cheesy thumbs up as the door closes in xer face). She rushes to your side, taking your hand, looking stunned that you were still alive. But what shocks her more is what her mother says… “Of all the women I have ever known, family or otherwise, you are, perhaps, the most determined. Normally only in… ‘spurts’. Yet here you are, defying what I have come to expect of you. It almost feels as if I have been fooling myself this whole time, falsely believing that there is more than one possible outcome. So, ‘Songbird’, I say this: Three months ago, I agreed to give you a chance to prove yourself worthy of my daughter, for the sake of her happiness. Now, I suppose it is only fair that I do so once more.”

“Wait. Are you saying-” Daniela is once again cut off by her mother, who seems eager to avoid a trademark rant.

“Yes, yes I am. For the time being, the two of you have my blessing. I cannot say that I am entirely convinced of your chances at success, but, having seen the strength of your affections for one another, I sincerely hope that you will prove me wrong. Now come here, Daniela. I never got to finish telling you what I thought of your concert…”

—————————

In the glowing comfort of your girlfriend’s room, with the fireplace keeping things warm and cozy, you lay with your head against Daniela’s chest. One of her hands absentmindedly plays with your hair, and you release a sigh of bliss. Ava had assured you that xe would let Daphne know the good news, as xe thought that having one of the castle ladies visiting the servants’ quarters might cause a stir (and Daniela was far from willing to let go of you so soon). Now the two of you were just enjoying time holding each other close. Regardless of Alcina’s concerns, you knew that everything would be looking up from here. Assuming that Daniela didn’t have any more surprise confessions to involve you with.

“That was one hell of a surprise, Firefly. But I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore. I love you, and I don’t know how long I could have survived without being open with it,” you say, a light teasing to your voice. Beneath you, Daniela chuckles, but holds you just a bit tighter. Then she places the softest of kisses to your forehead. “I’m always gonna love you, Firefly.”

“Until the end of days?” She asks, in a delighted whisper, grin practically audible.

“Until the end of days.”

—————————

Elsewhere in the castle, a caring mother takes another long, hungry drink from her glass of wine, staring intently into the fireplace. By her side is a silver-haired servant, who wordlessly watches her every move.

“There’s still a chance that this will all end horribly. Only time will tell, of course… but I can’t help worrying for her, she’s my daughter,” Alcina proclaims, gripping the glass hard enough for a web of cracks to form along its bell. But it does not fully shatter. No, it remains just steady enough to still be of use to her. For now. “Of course, you knew about this all along, didn’t you, Ava?... I know that you value how close you are with my children, and I know that they trust in you as much as I do… but if there are relationships or entanglements that I am unaware of, I expect you to tell me, or there will have to be consequences, regardless of your affiliation with Mother Miranda. Do you understand?”

Sighing, the mute servant pulls a notebook from xer pocket, opening it up to pen in a fresh script. There’s much tension in the air, and it only gets worse when Alcina catches a glimpse at what the note reads. As xe hands it to her, she scowls, and the wine glass fully breaks into countless shards. Immediately, Ava gets to work, picking up the largest of fragments with xer bare hands, refusing to complain about the resulting cuts. All the while Alcina stares into the fire, thoughts racing, wondering if maybe this time she could end her daughter’s problem before it was too late. Beginning to brainstorm ideas, she sets the notebook aside. Inside, in perfectly penned cursive, is a very, very dangerous piece of knowledge. The sort that could affect not only Castle Dimitrescu, but the entire village.

“In that case… there’s something you need to know about Cassandra- and Mother Miranda’s lovely little ‘pet’.”

#daniela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu #resident evil: village #re8 village #it's really here lads #this is it #gonna go cry now #oh my god #i can hardly believe it

96 notes · View notes

andreafmn · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Not Afraid - Chapter 2

Word Count: 4,585

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 2/?

A/N: SOFT DEREK, SOFT DEREK!!!!! If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

<- Previous | Next ->

Chapter 2

5:00 am my phone read.

It was usual for my brain to be awake at this hour. Since before I can remember it was part of the schedule I followed, everywhere I went. It was a small thing, but the sense of normalcy was a comforting friend. It made sense to follow a routine I could have anywhere. I was out of bed and into workout clothes, ready for a quick jog around the woods.

I started off with a slow and comfortable trot before speeding up once I reached the tree-filled terrain. The smell of wet soil, the sound of birds chirping and leaves rustling, the crunching of leaves under my feet was oddly comforting. There was a strange pull that came from the heart of Beacon Hills. I had lived in many places in my short lifetime but this place was different, the atmosphere was different, the people were different. One of those people was Derek Hale, the mysterious, broody, sarcastic man that had bumped his way in.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Why are you stopping?" He asked, a small chuckle escaping his mouth.

"How did you get here? Where the hell did you come from?"

"You're not the only person who jogs in this town and this happens to be the trail I take. You know, you should work out on a trail that is closer to your house. Makes it easier to actually go back."

I looked around. Once again, I had trailed off and didn't know where I was. "Lucky for you, I have a great memory. We can finish off running and I'll instruct you back to your house."

"You know you sound like a stalker." We started to jog once again.

"How so?"

"Well, you've only been there like two or three times and you already know the way back. Creepy!"

"Oh, come on, it means that I have a very sharp memory. Unlike you who can't seem to remember what house you live in."

"Touché."

The con and occasionally laughing at something. It felt good talking to him, almost natural. There was a supernatural attraction that I felt when I was near him, an unusual need for his closeness. Our relationship came easy, as the cliché would have it, it felt like I had known him all my life.

We ran for about an hour and a half before we turned back. "I think it's time we went back. You have school in an hour."

"Whoa, take the stalking down a notch."

"Oh, come on, I went to that school before you, I think I know the schedule."

"Alright, grandpa. Let's head back. It's time for your breakfast smoothie and then some bingo."

"Very funny." He ruffled my hair whilst fake laughing.

"I try." We ran and ran until I came into view of the curb that led to the house. "Well, this is my exit. Would it be too much to ask for you to take me to school?"

"Not a problem. Meet you back here at 7:45?"

"That would be perfect." He kissed my cheek and left to run to where I believe was his house. My face turned red, and I ducked inside.

"Mom? Dad?" I entered the kitchen and noticed a note over a covered plate. "Left for work early. Eat your food and go to school." I read out loud.

I took my time getting ready for school. My bag was already packed, as was my lunch. A long shower and a slow breakfast were in store as I awaited Derek's black Camaro to roll into my driveway.

"Thanks so much for the lift. I packed you some breakfast."

"No problem and thank you." He smiled. "You know, maybe after school, I can finally give you a tour around town. So you can familiarize yourself."

"That would be wonderful." I checked my schedule. "Actually, you can pick me up an hour before school ends. I have study hall at that hour, and no one would care if I left."

"I think I can make that arrangement." He looked at me showing a perfect set of white teeth and a smile that would make anyone melt. "But wouldn't your parents know that you left school? I mean, you won't be there when they go pick you up."

"I'll just tell them Allison gave me a ride or walked home," I said thinking of more excuses I could tell my parents. Distracted by my thoughts, my hand started reaching out to the powered-off radio and I didn't notice that so did Derek's. A sharp current went up my arm as our hands make contact. We both quickly pulled away and I could feel the blood rushing to my face turning it a deep shade of red.

"Sorry, I shouldn't impose. It's your car." I spoke up, quick to start picking at the skin around my fingernails to busy my hands. Derek perceived the nervous nature of my actions and stopped my fussing by putting one of his hands over mine.

"Don't worry it's fine. Just put the radio on whatever station you like." He smiled reassuringly and I reached to the radio and just turned it on, leaving it in the last station it had been on.

"Ugh, I absolutely dread going to school. Most of it I'm gonna forget either way."

"I'd tell you to ditch but that would be shame on me, so I won't. But think about it, this day you'll only get 7 hours of school and then you can hang out with me. Best present ever."

"Yeah, don't think so highly of yourself. Maybe I'll just wander around town until I find my way home."

"Very funny." He stopped at the drop-off zone. "This is your stop."

"Thanks again for the ride, awfully kind actions from such a sour wolf" I laughed at his scowl. "I'll see you in the afternoon."

"Looking forward to it." I exited the car and he waited till I was on the sidewalk to speed off.

"Was that Derek Hale that just dropped you off?" I turned around and was met face-to-face with Scott.

"Yeah. What's the problem?" Not that it will matter.

"You shouldn't trust him, he's bad news."

"Honestly, Scott, I understand your good intentions, but I'll sort out the wrong kind on my own terms." He looked taken aback at my response, probably thinking I would not talk back.

"I'm sorry if I offended you, but he is not a person that anyone should be with." With that, he left with worry evident on his face.

I understood that he was looking out for my "well-being”, but he didn't know me and I'm pretty sure he didn't know Derek either. Maybe that's what Derek meant when I met him. Everyone thinks he is a bad person, but he hasn't done anything wrong in my eyes.

I walked over to my locker and started exchanging my books. Closely next to me I could hear Scott talking to Allison about me and Derek, and my name should be out of his mouth. Once I finished with my locker, I slammed the door and they both stopped talking, noting my close presence. I walked past them feeling their worried stares burning my back. This was going to be a hell of a year. The only thing that could get me through it was the acquaintance relationship I have with Isaac. I did text him a bit last night but mostly helping him with homework. Lord knows he needs all the help he can get.

We all stood around in gym class as Stiles and Erica climbed the rock wall. Everyone else had gone including Scott who mastered a great fall. Stiles appeared to have fun, but Erica would let out sounds of discomfort and shortness of breath as she climbed. At a point, she stopped.

"Erica, are you dizzy?" Coach said. "Is it vertigo?"

"Vertigo is the dysfunction of the vesicular system of the inner ear" Lydia stated in a mocking tone. "She's just freaking out."

"Erica!" Coach screamed.

"coach, maybe it’s not safe. you know she's epileptic." Allison stated. How does no one care?

"Wh-why does no one tell me this?!" Coach Finstock questioned annoyed. "Erica, just fall back, there's a mat that will catch you."

She slowly let go of the wall and made her descent. No one seemed to care that the poor girl was shaken to the core; they all laughed.

When class was over everyone headed to their respective locker rooms to change. Something inside me kept pulling me back to the gym, so I walked back as I put on my shirt. As I opened the doors, I saw Erica fall from the wall and luckily into Scott's arms. He slowly put her on the floor as the class ran in behind us.

"Put her on her side," I stated.

"How did you know?" Allison whispered to Scott.

"I just felt it." He whispered back.

After Erica had calmed, the coach called an ambulance to take her to be checked at the hospital and the day went by normally. I was currently in my "last" period. Tapping my nails in a rhythmic pattern waiting for the stupid bell to ring. Only 5 more minutes and I would be out of here. This was the first time I had done something like this. I always stick by the rules and make sure to follow all of them. My heart was racing, and my palms were sweating. In 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Cue the bell. I grabbed all my things and stuffed them in my bag. I used to my advantage the fact that everyone was piled in the hallway and headed outside. Waiting for me was Derek in his black Camaro. Suddenly my heart steadied its pace and I felt relaxed.

"Hey there, rebel." He smirked at me as I entered the car and buckled my seatbelt.

"Don't make small talk. Just go." I said whilst trying to hide by burrowing in the seat. If I could I would have jumped into the trunk to avoid any hidden stares from authority figures.

"Don't tell me you've never done this before." I shook my head no and felt my face growing warmer by the second. "Aw, you're so innocent. For a big mouth that is." I slapped his arm as hard as I could.

"Don't be rude." I crossed my arms, slouched down, and pouted. He looked over at me and laughed. That made me slouch farther down.

"Oh, come on. Don't get mad." He ruffled my hair and laughed once again when I swatted his hand away. "Yeesh, feisty."

"So, where's our first pit stop?" I asked whilst looking out the window not wanting to look at his face.

"A small diner I know. Wouldn't want you to starve." He smirked. "Might make you angrier."

"I am not angry, just annoyed."

"Got some feelings hurt?" He said laughing.

"Derek, don't be rude. You will regret it."

"Oh, what could you do?"

"Is that a challenge?" He didn't answer, just laughed. I rolled down the window and stuck my head out. "HELP!! This man is kidnapping me!! HELP!! Bloody he...!"

My sentence was cut short by Derek's hand pulling me down by my jacket and onto the seat again.

"Why did you do that?" I asked innocently. I had caused the faces of a few people on the street to look at the car in horror.

"You know why! That was totally uncalled for."

"I told you that being rude was something you would regret. I'm not one to say this a lot but, I told you so."

He tried his best to keep a tight scowl on his face but in a matter of seconds, we were laughing at my past actions.

"Whatever, we're here." He turned off the car and went to the passenger side to open the door for me.

"Why thank you," I said and took his extended hand to pull my weight up.

"No problem." I smiled at his goofy courtesy but as we walked inside the establishment I could feel my heart beating faster by the second. "Table for two." Derek pointed at a booth made for two people exactly. Once we had sat down a lady maybe in her late thirties approached us to take our order.

"What do you want to order today, darlings?" She gave us a warm smile as she waited for our response.

"I'll have the bacon cheeseburger with some onion rings, a stack of pancakes, and some chicken fillets, a Diet Coke, and afterward some pie, please."

"Would you like the kitchen sink with that?" I said in shock. "I think I'll just get the, ummmm, bacon cheeseburger also with some onion rings and an iced tea. Maybe add some pie afterward too."

The lady laughed a bit, nodded, and smiled at us as she turned to the kitchen to put out our order.

"So, someone's a bit hungry. Huh, sour wolf?" I chuckled.

"Why do you call me that?" He said somewhat annoyed.

"I don't know. It just fits you."

"How?"

"Cause you're very sour and you kind of look like a wolf. Hairy face and crazy hair. I don't know how to explain it. It's just a nickname, though. If it makes you mad I can just call you something else."

"I'm not mad. Just wondering." He slouched on the seat looking less tense. "How is it that I'm usually so bad with meeting people yet with you, I just clicked?"

"I don't know. I'm just special that way."

"Very funny."

"I know! I could take up a career in comedy." He chuckled as he threw a sugar packet at me. "So, since we are getting to know each other we should know basic things about one another. Let me start. What's your favorite color?"

"Maybe black or blue. What about you?"

"Totally red and black." The waitress came with our drinks. I took a sip of my iced tea and continued with the questions. "Favorite place to be?"

"That house in the woods where we met." I gave him a weird look.

"Why there? It barely stands with a foundation. What could possibly be there?"

"It's the house I used to live in before it burnt down. My family was in there." I choked on my drink when he said this.

"Oh my gosh, Derek. I'm so sorry I brought it up. We can drop the topic."

"Don't worry about it. It happened such a long time ago it's sometimes relieving talking about it." After there was an awkward silence, so Derek cleared his throat and asked a question. "Um, and what's your favorite place to be?"

"I'm not sure. Usually, I like places more because of the people I'm with. But if I had to choose probably the woods, it's the calmest place I know. The only place where you can actually be free."

"Wow, Ms. Argent. So poetic. It touched me." He pointed at his heart. "Right here."

"Very funny, now, favorite sport?" And the game went on even when our food served. Whilst eating we kept asking each other questions and getting to know each other profoundly. This has been the first time I had ever opened up to someone. It felt strange. Letting someone know small details about yourself. Making yourself vulnerable to them. Showing them how they could break you. But this was different. I felt like I was just becoming closer to him.

"We should do that someday. I mean the thought of just leaving for a whole day, not knowing where you are going, just finding an adventure."

"Definitely. You decide when the first time." I smiled at him.

"That's a deal." He looked down at his watch. "I think it's time I take you home. Don't want your parents to worry."

"Alright. Let's go." I grabbed my bag and was about to pay my part of the check, but he wouldn't let me. He grabbed the money I left and paid completely. "I don't understand the need of being such a gentleman if this wasn't a date. Just two people hanging out."

"So, this wasn't a date?"

"You thought it was?" I thought about it. "What do you classify a date per se?"

"An outing in which two people go out and get to know each other a little bit more." What he said made sense. It had never dawned on me that this could have been anything other than just a casual outing, but not being too well versed in normal social encounters, let alone dating encounters.

"Alright, you win. I have officially gone on my first date."

"No way. This could not have been your first date." When he saw the serious look on my face, he stopped chuckling. "I'm so sorry you had to have given you such a crappy first date. I promise I'll make up for it one day."

"Deal." We even shook on it. "Now let's get going before my parents know I'm late."

During the drive back, he pointed out different key places I should know when going around Beacon Hills as well as easier routes to these places. Although I was heavily grateful for all the useful tips, my brain could hardly remember the first route he showed me.

When we got to my house, I noticed that my father's car was not in there. I guess they haven't arrived yet. I said goodbye to Derek and entered the house, thanking him for a lovely afternoon. I changed into workout attire and, deciding to stay home, went to the basement and started working out. After half an hour of running and half an hour of physical training, I decided it was enough and went to take a shower. I noticed that my parents weren't home yet.

"I wonder what's holding them back?" After my shower, I continued my current read of Pride and Prejudice. But something was bothering me, a thought that wouldn't leave my head.

I'm leaving once the year is over. Getting close to Derek will fuck me up once I leave. I've never had to say goodbye to anyone. I can't start now. I'll need to start avoiding him. Don't know how, but I must try.

I went downstairs to get a glass of water when I heard a knock on the door. It was Uncle Chris.

"Hey, Uncle Chris. What are you doing here?"

"I'm looking for your father. Is he here?"

"No, I haven't seen him. I got here and neither mom nor dad was here. Is something wrong?"

"No. Just couldn't reach his cell. I'm sure he's fine. Have a good night, sweetheart." He kissed my forehead and left. I started to worry. What if something had happened?

So, I decided to call him. Fortunately, he picked up.

"Dad, where are you?"

"Oh, honey, I forgot to tell you. Your mom and I will be out for the rest of the week. We left some money on the first drawer of the right side of the kitchen island and if you want you can stay with your uncle."

"But Uncle Chris came by and he didn't know where you were. Does he know you left?"

"Oh, I forgot to call him. I'll do that right now. Goodnight, munchkin, go to sleep."

"Goodnight, dad. Love you."

"Love you too." I hung up the phone and went upstairs completely forgetting about the glass of water I went to drink.

My phone buzzed and I looked at the caller ID signaling that Isaac was calling.

"Hey, Isaac."

"Hey, (Y/N). Um, do you think you can pick me up?" Isaac said in between short pants.

"Sure, where are you?" I asked. He told me where he was, and I took the keys to my mother's car to look for Isaac. He looked scared and frantic when I neared the spot, he told me about. His physique also looked different. Usually, he would walk cowering but now he stood tall and seemed a bit more buff. "You okay?"

"Yeah, just, um, do you think I could stay with you tonight?"

"I guess." I started driving to my house. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, totally. Just tired." I took the hint. He didn't want to talk, and I wasn't going to press on.

At my house, I arranged the guest room and got him spare clothes to change into. He thanked me and left for the bathroom. Something was wrong. But what?

***

Three days had passed.

Three days that I had stayed in my house for my daily workout.

Three days that my phone had been buzzing with messages from Derek asking where I was.

Because three nights before I had decided to avoid Derek at all costs.

The only way to leave it all behind is if you don't associate yourself with anyone. That way you won't feel any remorse or pain once you disappear. One time when I left was when I was approximately six or seven years old, and I had to say goodbye to Allison since we were sharing a room at that time. The second time was when I had to leave Josie. After that, I started familiarizing myself with the feeling of loneliness. It wasn't that bad once you remembered the fact that you would always see your parents when you got home, and everything would be better. Although, these days I had housed Isaac in my house, rare was the occasion that we interacted other than doing homework. Isaac would come home late in the night and quickly went to sleep. But, he stayed in my spare room for two nights and told me he had found a place to stay. He left thanking me for my hospitality.

When I finished my workout, I ran upstairs and took a shower. I changed from my stinky workout clothes to a plain white shirt and black jeans, obviously paired with my leather jacket. Once dressed I went downstairs and grabbed some cash to buy myself a muffin and a big coffee. Finally, I found the keys to my beautiful matte black Harley Fat Bob. My father had gotten me this motorcycle about two years back when he noticed I just kept crashing cars. The only thing I never crashed was his motorcycle and because he was worried I would, he bought me my own. I tend to wreck a lot of stuff. It's not intentional, I'm just clumsy at times.

I opened the door to the garage and noticed it sitting in a corner covered by a blanket. Once I took it off, I smiled. I passed my hand over the beautiful color, the smooth surface, the cold metal. It all felt familiar. A part of me. I grabbed my helmet and got on it. Once I sat my body felt relaxed, at ease. A spark of adrenaline was shot through my body when the engine came to life.

I backed up from the garage and went to the local café store. While waiting to pick up my order I noticed Derek walking in with his jogging clothes on. He still hasn't noticed me, too busy looking at the menu. When my name was called, he looked at me and called my name, but I ran out of the café with my order ignoring him.

When I got to the school everyone was staring at me. The new chick was now badass. I walked in with my backpack slung over my shoulder easing towards my locker.

"Hey there, gorgeous." I closed the locker door to see Jackson standing next to me. I rolled my eyes.

"Hi, Jackson. What do you want?"

"I was just wondering when you were free."

"Oh, well from tomorrow to never gonna happen. Get down from the cloud, buddy."

"Oh, come on, we both know you want some of this." He motioned over his body.

"Get over yourself." I scoffed.

"Babe, it doesn't hurt to try."

"I believe she's not interested, Jackson." A strawberry blonde girl appeared. Her confidence struck me like lightning, a very apparent aura of dominance radiating from within her.

"Why don't you mind your own business, Lydia. I'm talking to her, not you. You've already ruined everything else."

"Well, I think she has no business with you so why don't you scram?" With a huff and a puff, Jackson finally gave in and I turned to greet my hero, who was surprisingly accompanied by Allison.

"Thank you, so much. He wouldn't take no for an answer."

"No problem. I'm Lydia, but you knew that."

"(Y/N). Argent." She motioned between Allison and me. "Cousins."

"Pleasure." Then the bell rang. "Guess I have a new best friend, (Y/N)." You guessed wrong.

I entered Mr. Harris' classroom and sat down next to Isaac and as usual Mr. Chatty Pants tried to hold a conversation from the table behind us. Seriously, how much can someone talk? I took out my notebook and started writing down everything the teacher was saying is the homework on the board. Stiles had finally gotten the hint and didn't talk to me the whole class. That was a relief. Maybe it was due to the fact he was too focused on the strawberry blonde who had saved my ass from Jackson.

The day went on quite smoothly except at lunch. It wasn't the same Erica that had fallen from the rock-climbing wall. She completely changed; a more confident walk, she was wearing makeup and tight-fitted clothing, and her hair was perfectly styled. She left the lunchroom after taking a bite off an apple seductively and Scott and Stiles followed, as did I. Curiosity had taken the best of me as to this overnight transformation.

She opened the front doors to the school and there he was. Derek Hale in his black Camaro with the biggest smirk on his face staring at Scott. When he directed his sight to me his smirk kind of fell but was brought up quickly. During that Erica had gotten inside the car and they left, together. I don't know why I was jealous because he meant nothing to me, but it broke my heart. I got nervous. I think Scott noticed because he looked at me worried.

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?" I nodded rapidly and out of breath. I had no idea what was happening.

"I think you're having a panic attack." Stiles pointed out handing me an inhaler.

"I used to have panic attacks, too." I inhaled a pump and my breathing seemed to normalize. "You okay now?"

"Yeah. Thanks." I handed him the inhaler.

"No, keep it. I don't need it anymore." I said a low thanks and walked back to school to head to my next class.

I felt extremely weird the rest of the day. Why did I feel that way when I saw Erica and Derek together? It wasn't like anything was going on between us. Also, he's far too old for me. Or maybe I'm too young. I don't know. But I couldn't shake off that sour taste of jealousy that the image of them left.

I knew I wanted to stay as far away as I could from hin but at this moment there was nothing more that I wanted than to be close to him.

Tag: @lokisgoddesofpower

<- Previous

A/N: Please check out my last post about the fandoms I’ll be writing for.

301 notes · View notes

ginkgomoon · 3 years ago

Text

Gavin’s Old Days Date- Analysis

I received an ask just then about this date and so I’m typing my heart away at 2 in the morning. It didn’t really fully sink in to how much of a good date Old Days was until some time had passed, with the way how I looked at Gavin back then different to how I saw him now. This date brought back so many emotions and memories- especially when it’s such a well-rounded story with various hidden meanings and references which enabled me to have something to analyse!

This date circulates around Gavin and MC’s high school history in the span of days Friday and Saturday- on that fateful day when Gavin wanted to give the letter, to the night he waited for her.

It also has a circular storyline structure, from when MC first dreams of Gavin that catalyses following events. But something we also have to note is that the whole entire time until the very last few minutes- MC is ‘dreaming’.

The turbulent flow of time and space stunned me, and countless doors opened before me one by one.

The memory fragments poured in, and those images reflecting me and Gavin flew past quickly.

He turned his back to me and walked away, his white shirt fluttering in the wind, almost engulfed by the increasingly denser mist.

I shouted his name aloud and ran desperately, wanting to catch up with him, but the corner of his shirt was like wind that couldn't be grasped, dispersing between my fingers.

His figure became increasingly blurred as he was farther and farther, finally disappearing completely in the narrow field of vision.

Standing in the void, I seemed to have lost all directions and motivation forward.

Until a gentle breeze with a familiar fragrance blew the fog away.

There seemed to be dazzling sunlight piercing through the clouds, and after the mist dissipated, a completely different space-time appeared before me…

This part of MC’s dream is like a metaphor for Gavin’s sudden leave. The mini fragments of her memories and the information that she knew now compared to back in high school come together to try to form some comprehensible picture in her mind, which in this case- her dream.

(Which probably was helped by the presence of Black Cabin with the ‘“doors”. But I could also argue that it wasn’t, because this isn’t supposed to be the first time MC enters Black Cabin. Then again, dates differ from the main storyline.)

But just like how MC is Gavin’s North Star, without him, even she is lost and directionless. They both need each other. As they are each others’ mystery, they are each others’ answers.

“This uniform and medals are my beliefs, with you guiding me in the direction forward.” -Go See Him

MC wants to reach out, not wanting Gavin to leave her, just like how he left seven years ago. Though even here, Gavin’s wind helps guide her forward- to meet him again in this time-space.

Dreams are still a big mystery to us. Some say it reveals our deepest desires and fears presented by our subconscious. By listening to it, we are able to guide our efforts in achieving and chasing what we truly desire whilst avoiding our fears. And if some dreams are based on truth, then it can easily foreshadow what we are about to encounter.

As MC finally settles in appearing at their old school of Loveland High, she sees Gavin.

Through the crowds, he seemed to be looking at the girl standing on the middle of the flag raising platform with a speech draft in her hands. Without realising, he crumpled the letter in his hand even more tightly.

The infamous letter.

Moments ago he saw me, he was so shocked that his pupils contracted slightly. He also slipped when he was about to jump down.

“Who are you?”

The shock in his eyes was now replaced by alertness and uncertainty.

Gavin clearly doesn’t know this MC- because in this time-space, she doesn’t really exist. As I said above, as dreams can be based on truth and our desires, MC feels like she could have done something to correct their relationship in this course of time. But at this stage between her and Gavin, she doesn’t know much about it because he never explicitly told her and she wants to know. This dream is a manifestation of that.

MC: “Excuse me, do you know MC? I am her cousin.”

MC also experiences being her own cousin such as in Time Subway’s Loveland High Noodle Bar and STF Drill Ground.

Gavin looked at me suspiciously for a long time, and finally nodded indifferently.

Gavin: “Oh, what do you want with her?”

MC: “How is she doing in school lately?”

Gavin: “I don’t know her that well.”

Gavin helps MC locate herself- her high school self- but when she looks back, he has already disappeared. She then overhears students talking about Gavin getting beaten up by a hundred people and becomes an investigator into his whereabouts.

The next part of the date isn’t from MC’s narration, which led me to believe that this really did happen in MC and Gavin’s own universe. The ‘truth’ of the dream.

*Beating up happening*

Random Kid Who Doesn’t Have Better Things To Do: “I heard that our school overlord is transferring to another school. Is that true? Since you are leaving, why can’t you be good?”

Gavin: “That’s none of your business!”

Random Kid Who Doesn’t Have Better Things To Do: “True, but after you leave, your beloved girl will no longer be under protection, right? Don’t worry I’ll take care of her for you. And I heard she’s our campus belle.”

Gavin (fiercely with an angry face): “What did you say?”

*More beating up*

MC’s POV begins.

Finally, I found the alley from memory.

Gavin: “You won’t get off so easily next time. Try getting near her and see what happens.”

Gavin leaves and even MC wasn’t fast enough to catch a wounded, bleeding Gavin. She racks her brains to try to figure out where he is, and finally comes to the piano room.

And BEHOLD- Gavin casually sitting on a ginkgo tree dressing his wounds.

Gavin (annoyed): “Why are you everywhere…”

MC: “Are you waiting for MC? She’s preparing for exams so she won’t be here today.”

Gavin: “...I wasn’t looking for her.”

Gavin reluctantly agrees to follow MC into the infirmary and she starts to help properly dress his wounds.

MC: “Are you not a close friend with MC?”

Gavin: “... I’ve just heard her name before. She’s got good grades and she’s very kind.”

MC: “Have you ever talked to her?”

Gavin: “Nope.”

MC: “Then how do you know she’s kind?”

Gavin: “Why should I answer your questions?”

He looked a little vexed, looking away with his ears turning red.

MC: “Sorry, I meant well. It’s just that she’s mentioned you to me. She says you’re not as bad as what people say you are. You helped carry her books and took her to the infirmary…”

Gavin: “I just happened to be around.”

MC: “Err, then you must happen to be around quite a lot.”

Gavin: “How do you know all of this?”

MC: “She tells me everything. We even look very similar don’t we?”

Gavin: “But you act differently.”

MC helps Gavin finish patching his wounds and Gavin is noted to be unwilling to stay with her.

MC: “I have one more thing to tell you. MC is a bit slow. She is not as good as you think, and will also be blinded by rumours…”

Gavin interrupts me coldly.

Gavin: “She’s a very nice person. What she thinks of me has nothing to do with anyone else. If you're here just to tell me these things, then I don't need to listen to you.”

Gavin grabbed his uniform, but a white object fell from his pocket to the floor.

It was a crumpled letter. Stained in blood.

I went to pick it up but the paper slipped out and I caught a glimpse of the contents by accident.

Gavin quickly picked up the letter and put it back without saying a word.

There was a flash of dismissal in his eyes. He tried to flatten the creases on the letter awkwardly.

(RIP LETTER. He even tried to flatten it. GAVINNN)

Gavin’s view remains the same in their own universe- “You can’t change other people’s opinions but you can change your attitude towards them. Don't let yourself be easily affected. You shouldn't envy me. You’re different from me. You're kind and thoughtful. That's what makes you, you. Besides, I’m not as free as you think, and I care about a lot of things.” -Company Footage [Chapter 3-7]

The scene around her changes. MC figures that if this is the memory of her and Gavin, then the most important thing was to find him.

MC’s mind fixates on the familiar bloody letter- recalling its words. MC then sprints to the school library.

The library looked a little deserted in the darkness. Looking along the rows of bookshelves, I finally found Gavin seated next to the window.

At this point, Gavin has been waiting a whole day for high school MC to meet him. She didn’t read the letter that had the time he wanted her to come.

He turned around and the moment he heard my footsteps, and the glimmer in his eyes suddenly died away again when he saw me.

I realised that on this day, he had wanted to say goodbye.

He just frowned and looked away, uninterested.

MC: “Are you waiting for MC? She might have misunderstood. Sorry, let me apologise for her.”

Gavin: “It has nothing to do with you.”

He paused and said in a self-mockery tone.

Gavin: “I knew she wouldn't come anyway.”

I’ve never seen Gavin like this. At this time, he was still so young and one could easily read his emotions.

Only then did I realise how he described his past as a mere “regret” was an understatement. He had to endure the long wait and the misery of being understood silently.

(It’s 2am and I’m crying.)

I mistook the farewell letter as a threat and threw it away. I never tried to learn the truth and misunderstood him. And still was protected and cherished by him.

I never felt so sorry and never wanted to blame myself even more.

If I didn't know all of this, if we had never met each other after we went in opposite directions…

MC: “Although I know saying these now is meaningless...You’ll be a very awesome person in the future, and you will stick to your belief and to justice. And you’ll also meet the person you want to meet. Even though she might not be great and always troubles you, you will definitely meet each other in the future. So…”

But when I looked back up, Gavin was gone.

As if back to the beginning of the dream, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t catch up or make a sound.

And MC wakes up. (Circular storyline- starts and end with a dream- starts and ends with Gavin.)

“Why did it take you so long to answer? Did you just wake up?”

It was Gavin.

MC: “Gavin… I….”

Gavin: “Why do you sound so weird?”

MC: “I had a dream about you.”

Gavin: “Was it a bad dream? Don’t worry, it won’t happen. By the way, I'll be at your place soon. I brought steamed buns and soybean milk for breakfast.”

Just like how he bought milk and bread for her at the infirmary after she fainted during a school sports event.

The moment I saw Gavin, I threw myself into his arms, crying.

His strong chest, the familiar smell under his collar. This was Gavin, the Gavin who would never disappear or leave me.

Gavin: “Why are you crying?”

He tried to dry my tears clumsily, but both his hands were occupied, so he had to move to the table and put the breakfast down while I hung onto him like a koala.

Gavin: “Tell me, what was your dream about?”

MC: “In my dream, you skipped class, got into fights, and ignored me.”

Gavin: “...”

MC: “You also said, ‘it’s none of your business’ to me coldly several times.”

He held back laughter and listened to my tearful complaint. Then he suddenly took my hand, and slapped it on his palm.

Gavin: “Then bully me back now.”

MC: “Gavin, have you ever thought about… what if we didn’t meet?”

He gave it some thought and nodded seriously.

Gavin: “Yes I have. If I wasn't there, would the girl get bullied? Would someone be looking out for her? I’ve also wondered if someone would fall in love with her or give her a love letter.... Would she like someone else? So, if I were to meet her again, I must hold onto her.”

He took my hand lightly, and kissed it preciously, his voice soft.

“And never let her go again.”

(The same hands that helped dress his wounds. CRYING.)

All this time Gavin had regretted not being able to give the letter to her in person, presumably with the fear of rejection from the one person he cared about. Even if Gavin hadn’t had a conversation with her or knew her very well, the interactions they have had together was enough for Gavin to form an opinion of her- a strong enough opinion that even he refuses to listen to MC’s ‘cousin’ (interactions like wanting to introduce himself in the library but MC dashes off LOL).

Wanting to protect her continuously from the students during the alleyway fight and waiting day and night for her also really does showcase his determination and the effectiveness of having a glimmer of hope from and for someone goes a long way, especially with a loyal man like Gavin.

Additionally, MC states that he was cold to her, which shows that even someone who claimed to be her cousin wouldn't melt Gavin’s heart with secondhand words. (That wall that he built up between him and MC of how he bats each question she asks with another question LOL.)

Even in front of Cousin MC, he wants to keep up that tough and unbreakable persona, the one that high school MC is more familiar with- until the very end when he finally has to come to the conclusion that MC is not going to see him. This therefore really does make him think that she didn't want to meet him. And in the storyline, he really did have to live like that, thinking that she thought of him just like how everyone did- until they met again.

But after all that Gavin had been through, he’s willing to cherish every moment he has with MC in the future. Not basing their relationship off of the failures, misunderstandings and regrets- but their hopes and dreams of a better future together.

“Before you… I lower all my defences.” -Gavin

#ITS 2 AM #ANALYSIS OH HOW IVE MISSED YOU #mlqc #mr love queens choice #love and producer #恋与制作人 #mlqc gavin #mlqc en #mlqc analysis

31 notes · View notes

eveningstar1516 · 3 years ago

Text

Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 6

Rise of the Demon King

Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:

Letting go, both demons left for the palace as I went to my room. Shedding my clothes, I bypassed pyjamas and laid in bed. Tears ran down my face as I thought about Y/N and all the precious memories we had made together. I rolled over and realized they left their Little D No.1 plushie here from their last sleepover. Clutching it, their scent strong on the plushie, I drifted off to sleep, hugging the Little D in my arms wishing it was Y/N instead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHAPTER 6 - Celestial Realm (1207 words)

I awoke to the sun shining brightly through the floor to ceiling windows overlooking a garden. The bed felt softer than a cloud. Basking in the softness of the bed, it took a hot second before I realized that this is not my bed and there is a SUN! Bolting upright I looked around a bedroom that was not my own. The entire wall on my right was covered in floor to ceiling windows. At the foot of the bed was a small bookshelf with some plants on top. Just beyond that seemed to be a walk in closet. A small bathroom was located next to the closet. Other than a small study desk near the bed, the room was simple and plainly decorated. The walls were painted off-white with light neutral pastel green trims and accents. A knock at the door had me jumping out of my skin.

“Y/N, are you awake?” Finally, something I recognize!

“Yes, come in Simeon.”

“Good morning Y/N. Did I wake you?” “No, I woke up a short while ago. Where am I, Simeon?” Simeon walked over and sat in a chair by the desk. A soft smile on his face as he answered.

“You’re in the Celestial realm-”

“Yes, I know that, I mean where in the realm am I? And who’s room is this?”

“This is a guest room in the House of Honors where Luke and I live. We found you passed out in the garden with your wings covering you.”

“We?”

“Michael and I. He and the rest of the Archangels live upstairs on the top floor.” Simeon opened his mouth to continue when we heard 3 strong knocks on the door. Michael then came in. He had a fair complexion. Reddish orange hair was braided down his right shoulder. He sported a get up similar to Simeons but he had a full gray half sleeve with a cape instead of Simeon's sleeveless leotard and over the shoulder cape. His shirt bore golden accents and his cape was golden on the inside without any tassels.

“Good morning Simeon, Y/N.”

“Good morning Michael. How did it go?”

“Father isn't exactly pleased to have Y/N up here, sporting a fashion similar to Samael’s no less. He requested an audience with them as soon as they woke and had eaten.”

“Very well, I’ll escort them there after they eat.”

“Father had specifically asked me to escort them to the palace. Simeon, you should attend to your other duties.”

“Of course.” Simeon turned to me, giving me a hug.

“It was nice seeing you again Y/N.”

“Likewise, say hi to Luke for me”

“I will.” With that Simeon let go and walked out of the room.

Michael now looked at me, looking less than pleased to be dealing with me.

“Follow me.” He then walked out and I scrambled out of bed catching up with his long strides. We soon entered what looked like a dining area. There seemed to be some leftovers from breakfast.

“Have a seat and help yourself. Once you finish, we will go see Father, he will decide what to do with you.” Michael didn’t bother waiting for my reply before heading off in the direction of what looked to be a kitchen. Following his direction, I grabbed a plate and put some familiar looking foods that I remembered Luke teaching me about. As I was eating, I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable face off I would have with God. It was not going to be pretty.

In the Devildom. After they lost Y/N

When they first lost Y/N, Satan kept to himself. He locked himself up in his room and submerged himself in his books. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he found himself in his circle taking it out on the humans down there serving their punishment. His wrath consuming him. One day Lucifer found him curled in on himself trying to reel in his wrath after unleashing it on some of the 4th circles' inhabitants. Satan didn’t sense anything approaching until he felt a firm but comforting hand on his shoulder. Looking up he found Lucifer looking down on him with a sad smile and a look of something between pity and sympathy in his eyes. Lucifer looked down at his brother, no, his son. He took one look at the state he found Satan in and did something he didn’t think he’d ever do again, he hugged him. Satan felt his older brother's, no, his father's arms wrap around him. At first, all he felt was shock. He and Lucifer haven’t hugged since he was a child, now though Satan found himself leaning into his father's touch. Ignoring everything around them, Satan let out all his grief and sadness, holding onto his father like if he didn’t he’d disappear as well.

Present

Classes were going slow for Satan. While he would normally be engrossed in the lectures, diligently taking notes, he keeps finding himself drifting between thoughts, not staying on one topic for long and always finding a way back to thinking about Y/N. About halfway through his curses and hexes lecture, he gave up on paying attention and let his mind wander and his hands write whatever they wanted. At the end of the lecture, Satan looked at his notebook taking in what he had written. Mind you, he didn’t pay attention and just let his hand wander. What he found on the page both amazed and saddened him. Today’s lectures had been about the art of seduction with the use of curses instead of a demon's natural charm or beauty. He ended up writing out diligent notes from his lecture, but instead of them being in his usual note taking style, he found them in the form of a story Y/N had once had an idea about writing. He wrote about his time tutoring Y/N for their exams and how they successfully seduced him but instead of acting like a kitten, they took a spell Satan taught them and altered it so that not only would they have seduced Satan, but he still regained his free will, with Y/N pulling the strings, unknowing to him. He read the short story his mind had came up with, his mind revisiting memories of different lessons with Y/N, their progress, their ups, their downs, the one time they cursed Mammon into a frog, the look on their face when they successfully executed a complex spell without Satan’s magical assistance. He found himself longing for those days, an unfamiliar yet comforting emotion filling his heart. As he walked through the halls towards his next class, he made a vow to himself to try and feel that unfamiliar emotion until he could name it, then keep feeling it, because, for Satan, it felt like Y/N was right next to them, with their signature smile on their face, proud of him for focusing on a feeling opposite of his wrath. Should he start to feel his wrath taking over, he would picture Y/N, holding his hand, encouraging him to feel that unfamiliar emotion. One he soon learned was called ‘Philia Love’.

40 notes · View notes

blackcherrykiss · 3 years ago

Text

BLOOD BOUNDARIES - Enhypen OT7 Fanfic (ch.9)

[CH.1] [CH.2] [CH.3] [CH.4] [CH.5] [CH.6] [CH.7][CH.8] previous chapters

[CH.10] next chapter (unavailable on tumblr but avaliable on wattpad!)

You wait outside the nurse's office beside Jay in complete silence. You were both waiting for someone to burst out the door in front of you to rest assure Jungwon's condition.

"You can go to class, I'll stay and wait for Jungwon." Jay broke the noiseless lounge as his eyes laid flat on the grim grey floor. You were willing to stick around but realized it would be better if you were to just leave. Jungwon probably wouldn't want to see you after the minor argument. You simply nodded your head and left without another word.

When you had arrived in your astronomy class you carefully explained yourself, explaining Jay would be gone for most of the afternoon. Your teacher listened intently and understood every word well. Sitting in your usual spot, a wave of frustration washes over you once you remember Sunghoon had stolen your book for the class. You could only hope the new interesting concept of the class would jog your mind off of things to which it did. However, as the class came to a close you couldn't help birdwatch Jay's desk. Jay's absence for the entire class continued to make you worry about Jungwon and his condition.

Sending yourself out of the class in a daze, you began to join the trail of the halls. You met Nana and Dahee walking out of their class at the same time to your surprise, "Oh! Y/N!" With an abrupt slide to slow down you let the two girls catch up to you, "Sorry we couldn't eat lunch with you and Hyesun, we went to track tryouts." Nana gleefully explained.

"It's fine, I had detention for half of lunch and then got caught up in something..." Your head going straight back to Jungwon, "We should all be apologizing to Hyesun right now..." Immediately you got reminded about what Hyesun had mentioned to you earlier, "Hey, Dahee... I actually really need to speak to you about something in private." You asked shamelessly.

Nana looked at you both suspiciously but ultimately respected the privacy you desired, "I'll get going to my last class then, girls." She tapped both of your shoulders before joining the flowing current of the hallway.

You went with Dahee to a more private space, under one of the stairwells of the school. "Dahee, Hyesun told me about you and Sunghoon..." You trailed off, hoping you didn't have to say much more as to what you were about to say.

"So you do like him?" Dahee gasped happily to your surprise, "Don't worry I'm not that into him yet... But you should've told us a long time ago!" She nudged you gently in the elbow.

"Yeah! Sorry about that..." You lied with deep despise. You now had to act like you liked Sunghoon and that was the worst feeling ever, "I'll tell you about it later then, you should get going!" You cut the conversation very short so Dahee could both get to her class in time.

"I will! See you!" She waved in a much brighter mood now that you told her you supposedly liked someone for the first time forever.

"Dear Lord, what am I getting myself into?" You muttered furiously. Were you really going the extra mile to protect your friends over some gut feelings? You were literally praying to God that you would receive some sort of reserved spot in heaven for the shadow work you were doing. That is until you were interrupted by a somberly slow clap and a couple of shoes that clacked against the stairs above you.

"Wasn't expecting such a plot twist..." Sunoo came into clear view after reaching the final step at the bottom of the staircase. This was now the second time you were caught being heard by people separate from your plan. "So you didn't like Jungwon, but Sunghoon?!" He giggled in interest and cheap pity. He seemed rather thrilled to overhear your bullshit.

"I..." You could not come up with a reply in fear of both outcomes. By telling the truth or carrying out the lie to people, you were putting yourself in a very sticky situation.

"Dahee and Sunghoon were hitting it off so well the other day, it's a shame you're in the way..." Sunoo made an overly exaggerated glum face to piss you off, "You don't actually like him now, do you?" Sunoo caught on to your intentions, circling around you, "You're just doing it to save her, yes?"

You remained silent, causing Sunoo to stop right behind you where you felt the heat of his body getting closer.

"You're a lot smarter than some girls... It's enticing really... Perhaps that's why the boys are so fond of you?" Sunoo snaked around his arm to have the dull edge of his nail touch the flesh of between your jaw and neck. Slowly he etched a line down until it was right against your throbbing pulse.

You pulled away in shock as to how scandalous the act was, "I need to go... I'm supposed to check on Jungwon." You stepped away to face Sunoo in an abrupt manner.

"I heard about Jungwon's situation from Jay," He held the sharpest part of his chin between his index and middle finger, "Jungwon will just continue to get sick. He's so malnourished."

"Malnourished?" You echoed Sunoo.

"He chose to end up like that." Sunoo walked toward you again but this time passing you, with his shoulder slightly bumping yours, "Don't pity him, darling."

You shuddered. Sunoo was the most mysterious with his hints. He was the hardest to read between the lines with. For some reason, only he out of the boys influenced your thinking pattern.

...

After school and a mediocre meal at dinner, you regretted not at least peeping your head by the nurse's office just once that afternoon. Jungwon had probably been released from health watch but you thought you could've come to terms with him that evening. It was unsatisfying as you didn't feel any closure between the war of words you had with him. What wasn't helping was the stress you also had from Sunghoon.

The daylight vanished rather quick in the colder season of the year and dusk approached rather faster than a candle blowout. Since Sunghoon didn't set a specific time, you just headed out with not a glance at the clock. Your guess was to sneak out as soon as the sun came falling down. Due to the hallway monitors of your school during the late evening, it suddenly became an obstacle you had not planned for. You were confused yourself as to how Sunghoon could sneak out at this time of day, surely sneaking out super late at night was possible but not in the evening. Eventually, you took a trip out of a window on the bottom floor of the dormitory to bypass one of the school monitors.

You were well aware of how idiotic you looked running down the concrete steps and toward the very back of your school where the shadows of the forest shined brightly. You didn't see Sunghoon at all insight which was making your heart thump in fear and anger. There was no way this guy was going to set you up like this? You bit around random parts on the inside parts of your mouth as the sky grew darker every few seconds. With no one around and nothing around to do as you waited for Sunghoon, you approached the line between the woods and open grass field. You began to get deja vu of Jungwon which made you nervous as you felt the same wispy grass tickle at your calves.

"You actually came?" Sunghoon's voice rang in the open air from behind you, scaring the literal hell out of you.

"Y-yes I did." You sighed as to how close you were to exploring that forest, "Let's just get to the point." You turned your head back just for him to be in your personal space, you almost lost your balance trying to add some room.

"Walk with me." He ignored your jump into things while crossing the boundary between the skylight of dusk and the darkness of the woods. With hesitation and no clue as to what was about to go down, you followed him. "What did you want to hear from me again?" He asked carelessly with hands in his pockets as he guided you over a pile of soil and dead leaves.

"Kyungeun." You answered bluntly. "Why is she tied down to you?"

"That son of a bitch. She told you, huh?" He rolled his eyes in dear annoyance, "I guess you could say I have some information about her that would totally diminish her image." He kicked and crunched around a couple of leaves as he dragged his feet. You remembered Jaeyun had told you Kyungeun had secrets, perhaps that was it? Were you allowed to ask him about it?

Making a mental note to ask Kyungeun about it later you brisked forward to the next question, "Okay? But you said she'd be of no use to you when you get your hands on Dahee... What exactly did you mean?" Your heart thumped in loud eagerness as you move behind Sunghoon.

"She doesn't taste as good." Sunghoon paused to have you hear him clearly, "Her blood."

Your face heated up, a vibrant blush sparkling your face before the sickening realization hit you, "D-don't tell me..." The horror spreading like wildfire in your body from your head downwards. You were frozen to the very core as all the puzzle pieces came together. All the times including the gash on Kyungeun's neck, the warnings Sunoo gave, and Heeseung licking your hand... It wasn't just Sunghoon who was a vampire, it was all of the boys...

What Sunghoon faced you with a gentle eyes he withdrew the small book from inside his blazer, making your ankles shake. "I suppose you'll know why I took this now." He shook the book before throwing it in front of you with pity. You simply watched the book plop on the bed of dead leaves before your shoes in no ability to process or produce words. You didn't even feel like picking up the book as you were afraid of reading it's horrific contents.

"W-well you won't be getting your hands on Dahee any time soon." You tremble with a paralyzing fear as you tried to speak. You were regretting the bold comment, for fuck sakes the boy standing before you could kill you right then and there.

He stepped closer and closer to which you stepped further and further. "Well, then I guess I'll keep Kyungeun under my power until the day she dies." His scornful laugh made you shudder painfully. In full defeat, you were sincerely helpless. You felt you couldn't run nor report the boys, who would ever believe you? You began questioning how you even got in this position.

"Wh-why does it have to be them? Can't you just live without blood?!" You cried pathetically as you backed into a hard tree.

"And end up like Jungwon?" Delight crept onto Sunghoon's white face as yours grew in confusion, "He hasn't drunk blood in months, he's so weak to the point where he can't even stand sometimes..." Sunghoon went on to speak his mind, "Heeseung and I were convinced he was messing around you for your blood."

Your eyes shot wide open in disbelief, "Well he's clearly not like you if he's abstaining from blood."

"It's true... Something changed in him recently after he started talking to you. Perhaps he has fallen for a mortal?"

"Go to fucking hell." You muttered at a volume that wasn't loud enough for Sunghoon to hear.

"As soon as I sensed your presence that day in the library, I knew you would fall down this rabbit hole." He hummed while bending to have your eyes both at the same level. "Curiosity killed the cat."

You held your tongue with no desire to respond to Sunghoon as the closeness was now more than dangerous. But your muted self only gave Sunghoon the opportunity to proceeded to taunt you. He began caging you against the tree, causing you to press up against the rough wood where you couple feel every detail of the bark on your back.

"I remember Heeseung telling Jaeyun and I about just how good the blood from finger tasted... How about a deal?" He caught your attention as you met eyes with him. A full set of upper teeth being exposed between his rosy lips. If there was one thing you had been taught by the caregivers of your school, it was to never make deals with the devil. You knew exactly what kind of bargin Sunghoon had in store for you "I'll leave your friends in peace if you promise me this," He said with a small lean forward so that his chin rested on your collarbone earning a gasp from you,

"You'll give me your blood in exchange for theirs."

#enhypen au #enhypen x reader #enhypen fanfic #enhypen ot7 fanfic #jungwon fanfic #yang jungwon fic #heeseung fanfic #lee heeseung fic #jay fanfic #park jongseong fanfic #jake fanfic #sim jaeyun fic #sunghoon fanfic #park sunghoon fic #enhypen fic #kim sunoo fic #sunoo fanfic #niki fanfic #nishimura riki fic

50 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

Text

Delight in Misery (ao3) - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7

- Chapter 8: Interlude -

Author note: This chapter is an interlude that contains JC/LWJ adult content. It can be skipped without impacting the remainder of the story.

“This is an idea so stupid that I can’t believe Wei Wuxian wasn’t that one to think of it,” Jiang Cheng said.

Lan Wangji didn’t disagree. If either of them had any sense whatsoever, they’d call off this whole idea before it was too late and they did something that permanently damaged the delicate balance of the life they’d built together forever – and they had, somehow, built a life together, cobbled together out of convenience and tragedy and the fact that no one else in this rotten world would understand what it was to miss someone like Wei Wuxian.

It was utter recklessness to throw it away for – what? Indulging some curiosity? Killing some time out of boredom, now that the Lotus Pier had finally quieted down enough for Jiang Cheng to no longer need to work from sunrise until sunset? Now that Lan Wangji didn’t have to hide himself away at all hours, afraid that someone would see him coming and going?

“You don’t even like me like that,” Jiang Cheng complained mutinously, and glared when Lan Wangji nodded in confirmation. “Wow. Thanks a lot.”

“We don’t have to proceed,” Lan Wangji pointed out.

“No, we’re doing this,” Jiang Cheng said at once, because he was contrary down to the last inch of him. “Take off your clothing already. No matter what the Lan sect may think, there are circumstances that call for not wearing four layers of clothing, and sex is definitely one of them.”

Because that was what they were apparently doing.

This was all Mo Xuanyu’s fault for leaving his books lying around – Jiang Cheng had finally succumbed to pressure and ordered his steward to get some for him – and in particular a spring book with pictures that went beyond the merely suggestive into the explicit. Jiang Cheng had picked it up while neatening up the room and gawked for enough time to make a cup of tea; when Lan Wangji had politely asked if he’d perhaps been abruptly struck blind by the contents and, if so, if there was any medicine he would like Lan Wangji to fetch for him, Jiang Cheng had instead turned to him and said, very frankly, “This cannot be a thing people actually do.”

Lan Wangji had, with great patience and an expression of intense suffering, held out his hands for the book.

The years following his awkward initial interaction with Wei Wuxian – the discovery of his own inclinations, the confirmation that they were irrevocably set in that way, his eventual acceptance of that fact – had led him to explore the more idiosyncratic portions of the Lan library. He was no longer the boy that had spluttered and cursed when tricked into looking at some (fairly run of the mill, in retrospect) pornography.

“Mm,” he’d said after a brief examination. “Real.”

“Impossible. Why would anyone -?”

Lan Wangji hadn’t bothered to dignify that with a response.

“It can’t possibly feel good,” Jiang Cheng had protested.

Lan Wangji had graced him with a pitying look. He hadn’t experienced the act in question with another person, of course, but his older brother had been perhaps unduly interested in ensuring that Lan Wangji had access to anything he might need to assuage his curiosity regarding his unorthodox affections, and, well, the Lan sect did always value a thorough approach to learning.

In other words, he’d read a lot.

It might have been left at that, a casual conversation between friends, except that Lan Wangji must have been suddenly possessed by the spirit of Wei Wuxian because he felt compelled to add, “Not that you would ever have a chance to find out.”

And that, of course, was that; once Jiang Cheng’s competitive instincts were awakened, there was absolutely nothing for it but a test to determine who was right.

Little details as to whether or not Jiang Cheng was even attracted to men enough for the question even to matter were dismissed as irrelevant.

And that was how they’d ended up here. About to go to bed. Together.

Though – perhaps that wasn’t exactly how it had started.

Perhaps it had started earlier, when Jiang Cheng had started helping Lan Wangji with those very particular physical reactions he’d had during the period he’d been too weak to do it himself, or perhaps when he’d continued to help him with it long after the trauma of it was no longer so near as to make it impossible for him to use his hands on himself.

Perhaps Lan Wangji should have been the one to stop that – the one to say no, no more, it’s unnecessary, thank you. But in those years of seclusion he had seen so few people, and seen Jiang Cheng most of all; he hadn’t quite been able to give up the desire for the touch of a human hand against his skin. To give up the intimacy of the act, for all that Jiang Cheng routinely brought him to completion as casually as if he were merely rebandaging his wounds, was simply impossible. Nothing could detract from the satisfaction he obtained, even if Jiang Cheng often spent the time talking about something else entirely, complaining about his day or a particularly irritating set of paperwork.

(There was a period in which Lan Wangji had briefly started to develop unsavory connections to the subject of dam rebuilding – luckily the dam project had ended before it had become a real problem.)

At minimum Lan Wangji should have put a stop to it once he was no longer secluded: when he had Lan Xichen’s embraces, gentle nudges from visiting Lan disciples, all the regular physical contact he had grown up with, and now all the casual affection that passed between Jiang sect disciples, of which he was considered an honorary member…it was more than enough to satisfy any skin hunger that might have been compelling him to continue with that inappropriate behavior that neither of them saw as important enough to name.

It had become a habit by then, though, a part of the routine, and the Lan sect thrived on routine.

“You have to remove yours as well,” he reminded Jiang Cheng, folding his clothing up neatly. If they had been lovers, perhaps Jiang Cheng would have been staring at him at this moment – perhaps he would have been tracing Lan Wangji’s body with his eyes, hunger and anticipation on his features – but they weren’t lovers. They were just friends, and that was why Jiang Cheng was fighting to get his shoe off (it had grown too small after too many washings and was starting to fall apart but he inexplicably refused to get new ones) instead of examining a body he’d seen naked a thousand times already during Lan Wangji’s slow recovery. “Do you –”

“If you offer to assist me, I will punch you,” Jiang Cheng threatened, and finally got the shoe off. “And if I hear one word about me needing to replace it –”

“You do.”

“It’s fine. It does the job! What else do you want from a shoe, damnit?” The other shoe was removed. “Leave me alone. I don’t need your help.”

The rest of his clothing came afterwards, tossed casually onto a chair, and Lan Wangji watched out of lack of anything better to do. In the years that had passed he had also seen Jiang Cheng’s body many times, an inevitable result of living across from each other in a place as hot as Yunmeng. Jiang Cheng was undeniably beautiful, all long lines and slender, his flesh marred by the discipline whip as Lan Wangji’s own had been, although in much lower quantity.

No, Lan Wangji concluded. This would not be the problem he had almost been concerned that it would be. For all that Lan Wangji’s heart belonged to Wei Wuxian and always would, his body had no objection to the idea of trying out something new.

“I assume at least some help is not unwelcome,” Lan Wangji said dryly, standing and walking over to put his hand on Jiang Cheng’s cock. At Jiang Cheng’s mild exclamation, Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows. “You can’t even do this? I may have overestimated your bravery.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jiang Cheng said, although he was clearly flustered; he reached out to assist Lan Wangji in the same manner. His palm was callused and warm, as always; Lan Wangji’s cock stirred at once at the familiar stimulus. “It’s been a while since it was someone else, that’s all.”

“You’ve had experience?”

“There’s no need to sound so skeptical about it. I was a teenager once too, you know; Wei Wuxian and I – hey, watch it!”

Lan Wangji relaxed his grip apologetically. “You did for Wei Ying as you do for me?” he asked, and didn’t even care when Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at his obvious and immediate fascination. It was a good thing that neither of them had any illusions about Wei Wuxian’s role in their friendship, the ghost of him that hung over it all; if they pretended otherwise, they might have hurt each other. “How did he..?”

“You’re not seriously asking me that question,” Jiang Cheng said, but of course Lan Wangji was.

Jiang Cheng glared at him, but Lan Wangji was patient, and as with all things relating to Jiang Cheng, his patience was rewarded.

“You’re a little more direct,” Jiang Cheng finally said, rolling his eyes once again to demonstrate how ridiculous he thought Lan Wangji was being. “You like long strokes, like this, very purposeful – his preference was a bit more playful. A bit of teasing around the head, like this, and then a bit with the thumb…listen, if you’re going to turn that shade of red this quickly, we’re going to have to call this whole idea off.”

“I can do more than once.”

“I’ll give you the whole rundown another time, you pervert,” Jiang Cheng promised, and Lan Wangji’s cock twitched at the thought of it. “Can we please focus on proving you horribly wrong already?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“So you say.”

Lan Wangji rolled his eyes and resumed moving his hand on Jiang Cheng’s cock. It felt nice in his hand, filling out as he stroked it. “Why?” he asked after a moment.

“Why what? Why did Wei Wuxian and I get each other off?”

“En.”

“We were young and stupid, obviously,” Jiang Cheng said. “He was my shixiong. We shared everything, figured everything out together…it wasn’t that weird, okay? It was just lending a friendly hand. Literally.”

Lan Wangji could imagine it. The scene sprang up fully formed in his eyes: Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian as he remembered them from the Cloud Recesses, cheeks still a little fat with youth and glistening from perspiration from the humid Yunmeng air, sitting together side-by-side on a bed with their hands in each other’s laps. Perhaps even the bed he slept in now, or Jiang Cheng’s. And perhaps even back then Jiang Cheng liked to talk of other things while he was performing the chore – his lessons, perhaps.

Perhaps they’d even done it for each other while they’d been at the Cloud Recesses…

“Did you do anything more?” he asked, licking suddenly dry lips.

Jiang Cheng blinked at him. “Like what?”

Perhaps it was petty to use their conversation as an excuse to step forward into Jiang Cheng’s personal space, to use his free hand to rub up and down his chest and tweak his nipples, to use teeth and tongue liberally on his neck, on his shoulder, his collarbone, until Jiang Cheng’s knees had grown so weak from surprise and pleasure that Lan Wangji had to loop his arm around his waist to help support him –

But if there was one thing Jiang Cheng had taught him in all these years, it was that there were times when being petty was the best possible option.

“Can I use my mouth on you?” he asked, and took the incoherent spluttering and vague hand-waving he received as a yes. “Sit down on the bed and lean back.”

Jiang Cheng obeyed without a single complaint, which Lan Wangji accepted as the compliment it was.

“I think I can definitively say no, just so you know,” he observed as Lan Wangji lowered himself down to his knees. “I did not do anything like this with Wei Wuxian.”

“Did you ever want to?” Lan Wangji asked, mildly curious, and then he leaned down and put his mouth on Jiang Cheng’s cock.

“Am I supposed to be having a conversation with you about this?” Jiang Cheng demanded, thrashing underneath his ministrations. Lan Wangji had to hold his hips down with his hands, using a little force. “Now?”

Lan Wangji purposefully stopped moving.

“You are a piece of shit, you know that?” Fingers made their way into Lan Wangji’s hair, careful to avoid his forehead ribbon as they lightly tugged – hmm, that was rather nice, actually. Lan Wangji mentally noted down the preference. “Fine. Ugh. No, I didn’t. It wasn’t like that. It really did just start out innocent, you know. Us being boys and all, measuring the difference in size and all –”

Jiang Cheng paused and rolled his eyes down at Lan Wangji, who had perhaps overly demonstrated his interested in hearing more.

“– yes, you obsessed stalker, I’m getting there. He was longer, I was wider; we called it a tie. Later on, we got drunk and started talking about how we were both worried that we were doing it wrong, except, you know, that would have been way too embarrassing…you know how we were. It turned into a dumb sort of competition about who could do it better, which one of us was the one doing it wrong, who was doing it right – we got into a lot of stupid contests like that.”

A brief pause.

“Don’t say that I’m stating the obvious.”

Lan Wangji’s mouth was full, which was probably the only reason he wasn’t. He really had lost all sense of self-control when it came to deliberately irritating Jiang Cheng, and he wasn’t sure when that had happened. His uncle would be disappointed in him again.

Good.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Jiang Cheng muttered. He’d gotten into the groove of things, his hips rocking slightly as Lan Wangji sucked him, careful not to go too far or too fast for fear of making Lan Wangji gag again – though to be fair, that had been mostly Lan Wangji’s fault for being overly ambitious in trying to take him in too deep that time. The real thing really wasn’t anything like the jade pillar he’d practiced on. “This is ridiculous. You’d better never expect me to do this for you. No way.”

Lan Wangji didn’t bother responding.

“I mean, I guess if my hands were broken. It’s not like I couldn’t do it. I’ve put worse things in my mouth, over the years.”

No response was necessary. Jiang Cheng’s complex about needing to be the best at everything – or at least skilled enough to be respected – was truly a fearsome thing.

Though speaking of which...

Lan Wangji reached with one hand to pull over the small packet of thickened, scented oil that he’d obtained long ago, dipping his fingers into it and working one finger, then another, into Jiang Cheng.

“How do you even think of these things?” Jiang Cheng complained, because he wouldn’t be Jiang Cheng if he didn’t complain. “You must have done nothing but read spring books day and night – hey, wait! What are you doing? I’m going to be the one on top! Not you!”

Lan Wangji hummed and removed his mouth – Jiang Cheng whined in complaint – and then lifted one of Jiang Cheng’s legs, pressing his cock against him. He didn’t get a fist in the face, even when he rocked back and forth teasingly, his cock sliding right up to Jiang Cheng’s slicked-up entrance and then away.

“…just go ahead and do it already!”

Lan Wangji’s analytical mind temporarily blanked out when he pushed inside. It was hot and tight around him, squeezing him – it felt good. Very good.

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng said. His voice was a little unstable, almost breathy. “Fuck.”

“If you insist,” Lan Wangji said, and began moving his hips before Jiang Cheng could correct him. Jiang Cheng grunted as if the sound had been punched out of him. Fucked out of him. “How is it?”

“Why are you asking me, don’t you already – Lan Wangji. You said the picture in the book was realistic.”

Lan Wangji hummed in agreement.

“I assumed that meant you’d done it before.”

That seemed like a Jiang Cheng problem.

“Lan Wangji! Are you saying you don’t know what you’re doing?!”

“I’ve read a lot of spring books,” Lan Wangji said dryly, and started to really put his back into it, long thrusts that felt fantastic to him and from the looks of it not all that bad to Jiang Cheng, either. After a few thrusts, he apparently hit the place described in the books, if he were judging by Jiang Cheng’s sudden moans and a notable increasing in generalized cursing, as opposed to cursing his name in specific.

Lan Wangji finished first, which increased the amount of cursing by a significant degree.

“I can’t believe you –!”

“Would you like to finish in my mouth?”

“It is,” Jiang Cheng hissed at him, “the very least you could do!”

Jiang Cheng was much less polite this time as he fucked his way into Lan Wangji’s mouth, his hands firmly gripping Lan Wangji’s hair and pulling him into place, forcing his way deeper with brutal snaps of his hips.

Despite having recently been wrung dry, Lan Wangji’s cock did its best to give an interested twitch, and Lan Wangji noted that down as well. Perhaps next time he should encourage Jiang Cheng to be the one on top, to see if he would enjoy the sensation more if it was someone else doing the fucking rather than a toy carved out of jade. After all, Jiang Cheng had certainly responded well enough to it.

Lan Wangji was moderately sure there would be another time. Jiang Cheng was not a man motivated by sex – remarkably so, in fact. If anything, he seemed to view physical pleasure, even at his own hand, as a perfectly decent activity, but nothing worth kicking up a fuss over, little different from a massage or a round of acupuncture; neither something especially desirable nor repulsive. As Jiang Cheng himself had admitted, he hadn’t experienced the touch of another since his youthful experimentation with Wei Wuxian, even though Lan Wangji was well aware that he’d received plenty of offers from all types of types of people over the years, and yet the lack hadn’t seemed to bother him.

If not for Lan Wangji, he probably would have continued on with his life without thinking about it any further, either, except perhaps in the theoretical box in his mind that he’d earmarked for having a wife, which he seemed to want only because everyone was expected to want a wife.

That competitive streak again.

But he did have Lan Wangji, who was not naturally inclined towards abstinence, and now that they’d opened the door to having a friendship that included certain additional benefits, he had no intention of shutting that door absent any indication from Jiang Cheng that it no longer suited him.

After all, Jiang Cheng might yet have a wife one day, assuming a patient enough marvel could be found – but Lan Wangji was a Lan, born and bred true, and he would only have one love in his life; he had fallen long ago, chosen long ago. Wei Wuxian was gone, and he would never regret it, nor love another. It had been living with Jiang Cheng, being friends with him, that had taught him to remember joy; what was this, then, but more of the same?

Of course, that was assuming that Jiang Cheng would agree in the future to sate Lan Wangji’s rather prodigious appetites with more than just his hand. He might not. After all, it really wasn’t his area of interest –

“Fuck,” Jiang Cheng abruptly said.

Lan Wangji, who was fetching a wet cloth, turned to look at him.

Jiang Cheng was propped up on his elbows, scowling bitterly. “You know what,” he said. “We didn’t even manage to do the right position! The one in the spring book was more – more twisty – you know – with the leg up in the air like that –”

“…mm,” Lan Wangji said. “We’ll do better next time.”

“You’re smirking,” Jiang Cheng said suspiciously. “Why are you smirking? What are you up to?!”

“Nothing,” Lan Wangji said peaceably, putting down the cloth and picking up the oil. “You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right! I’m – I’m not usually right. Or at least, you don’t normally admit it when I’m right. What am I right about?”

“Did it wrong,” Lan Wangji said, and settled down again. “Need to try again.”

“Try – wait, now? Already?! You can’t be serious!”

Lan Wangji started rearranging limbs. “You’re already prepared,” he pointed out. “‘Avoid needless waste.’”

“Don’t you quote your Lan sect rules at me, Lan Wangji! You’re inhuman! You’re – ah!”

He’d slid right in that time, Lan Wangji observed, all at once in a single smooth slide that made Jiang Cheng moan and his cock start to fill up again; the ease of it must be due to how relaxed Jiang Cheng’s body was after he’d come, and the slickness of both the oil left behind and the new amount he’d added. Definitely a different experience from the previous time, but equally enjoyable.

Well, as he’d said before – the Lan sect always did value a thorough approach to learning.

#mdzs #jiang cheng #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #delight in misery #if you prefer to avoid JC/LWJ entirely skip this #they're still not romantic though

97 notes · View notes