#love drawing miserable people and if you do too youre welcome

[morscervus]

reposting these from my twt acc, small florian doodles.

[abstractfrog]

HI I JUST SAW YOUR INCREDIBLE SHERLOCK AND CO COMIC YOU MADE AND I WOULD LOVE FOR YOU TO TALK ABOUT THE PROCESS AND THE SYMBOLISM AND INTRICACIES AND EVERYTHING PLEASE ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

GOD THANK U ok if i actually talked about EVERYTHING i would be here forever and ever, there were things about the process where it kept surprising me and i kept adding stuff.

I talk about my general comic process here , it started out mostly the same for this one. Analysis of the script, sketches, panel and colour blocking

The scene from Mr Sherlock Holmes presented me with a unique challenge (for me) because...usually I pick scenes from the podcast that are instantly visually stimulating. This scene is NOT that. It's sort of unclear and confusing and even the emotive narrative is sort of hard to pick out. Those things I had to sort of decide for myself. It's hard to draw a whole scene like this without first deciding what the scene is about, what its purpose is. If you go back and listen to the episode along with the comic you'll notice all sorts of changes and tonal shifts - that's because of me and my decision making.

I decided that the direction I wanted to go in was to show John having his realization about himself, his podcast, and Sherlock, showing him getting pulled into, yes, Sherlock's world, but also the world of the podcast as an adaptation. I knew i could do this just with colour, but if you've seen my other comics, you know i almost always use colour to show shifts. I guess I had some insecurity about doing the same thing over and over again so I pushed myself to think of other ways I could accomplish it visual. Enter: rendering technique

I will say I didn't expect this effect to make John seem so SAD and MISERABLE, i only wanted to show him getting pulled in, but its effective for his emotions in this scene as well. Scanning drawings into the computer sort of flattens the paper texture, so I started adding photos of the pages of A Study in Scarlet to make him feel more paper-y. And then, of course, realised i could use that to further elaborate on John's inner thoughts, backgrounds, and motivations. People are welcome to interpreted that how they like and i've seen a number of variations, but to me it operates on sort of a meta level, showing the inevitability of what John is going through. He's a Watson, he's always going to follow Holmes, he's going to try and figure him out, and that's why you sort of see a back and forth between acd and pod Watson, highlighting the ways in which they are similar, and then, John breaks off and becomes his own character, still with those foundations but also entirely different.

there's one piece of text that i haven't seen anyone pick up on or mention and I'm starting to think it's gone unnoticed because it's in an unexpected spot. I won't mention what or where because it is, for now, a very indulgent little secret.

I notice a lot of people are getting a kick out of Sherlock playing with the speech bubbles, which I am so pleased by because I almost didn't do it! I thought i was maybe breaking something in the comic but it was so fun that i didn't care and I'm so glad it came across well. It operates on a lot of levels, it shows his thought process, it plays into that fourth-wall medium play i've got going on, and it feeds into the web metaphor as well as visually showing him roping John in.

on the topic of Sherlock, I feel a lot of people are rather focused on John, which is understandable (he's the main event) but Sherlock has a lot of details I love too.

For instance, him pushing his hair back and putting on a coat when the officer arrives, almost like he's shifted modes, and then his hair falling back down when he gets excited and John starts to understand.

I really love this moment of Sherlock seeing John's potential for interest in mysteries when he's trying to solve the matter of what Sherlock Does, and being surprised and flattered for a moment (until John messes it up again)

John copying Sherlock's pose <3

There's deliberate things in the character design as well, things like the fact that once John comes into colour, it reveals that he's actually wearing more colour than anyone else in the scene, and the fact that the grey in John's hair only appears post-greyscale. Things you are welcome to read into. And there are, of course, the socks, which I've seen people pick up on.

Those are the main things for now so i might leave it there, but thank you so much for your ask and i'd be pleased to elaborate further on absolutely anything!

[stringsbasement]

Hey so did family odd parents get a new series? Who’s the purple hair guy you ship with who I assume is Timmy. I just stumbled upon you blog by chance and I want to know what’s up with your blorbos.

Who are these people and why do I recognize them?

welcome, welcome! i'll be happy to tell you all about it :) i'll try to keep it short:

to recap, the original fairly oddparents show mainly revolved around timmy turner, a 10-year-old boy who was given magical fairy godparents who'll grant his every wish to help him cope with his miserable life. in the show, his found family of fairies consists of cosmo (godfather), wanda (godmother), and poof/peri "purple hair guy" (baby godbrother). the show aired on nickelodeon from 2001 - 2017, and it was popular enough that even people who didn't actively watch it might recognize it

the new series, fairly oddparents: a new wish, takes place decades after the original show's events. it follows a similar premise with a (mostly) new main cast of characters: hazel (protagonist), dev (deuteroganist), and their fairies. cosmo and wanda came out of their 10,000 year retirement to godparent hazel, and dev later on acquired a now-adult peri as his godparent

peri (originally named poof), for the entirety of the original airing, was only shown as a perfectly marketable sphere baby. so when he showed up as an actual adult with design elements taken from both his parents blended in a unique, balanced way, with a personality reminiscent of pilot cosmo (suave gentleman)... something changed inside me

and now here i am

as for the ship, i think you've mistaken dale with timmy

it's the brown hair and blue eyes. don't worry, if i didn't know the lore prior, i could believe this was the same character too!

timmy is peri's brother, and they've been raised as such since peri was born. they were separated after timmy lost his godfamily (and his memories) sometime after growing up and becoming independent. godparents are only ever temporary, afterall. these siblings are made especially tragic by the fact that timmy is the reason peri was born— fairies were banned to have children, until timmy wished for cosmo and wanda to have one because he wanted to see them happy

meanwhile, dale is dev's father, completely unrelated to timmy. He's an antagonist, a terrible father, and the reason for dev's misery. he first appeared as a one-off character in the original show as a poor child laborer who got trafficked into a sweatshop working for a lemonade factory (i cannot make this up). in the current show, he's an irredeemable rich jerk for who i hold absolutely zero respect for. but, from a character perspective, he's fun to watch, and i love it when he shows up to ruin my mood

the shipping comes from the fact that peri and dev gets separated by the end of the first season, so lots of people headcanon that peri came back for dev by disguising himself as his human babysitter, which he'd of course have to be hired for...

those circumstances make for very interesting potential conflicts and dynamics, so it's not hard to see why some might take to it

(lots of people have shouted at me and made it abundantly clear that i may have accidentally fanned the flames for that one, whoops

it's hilarious, because i don't actually care much for the peridale ship at all. i might draw more, but it's far from what i like about the franchise)

a new wish was well received because it took many issues people had with the original and improved upon it. they gave cosmo and wanda a healthier dynamic, for one (it essentially used to be full of "i hate my wife" and "my husband is a moron" jokes, which didn't work well in the long run). the people working on it has also shown clear passion for the project, which i don't see much with show revivals these days. the jokes land and the emotional moments have their weight, and above all, it does it's job at being entertaining

for a show i didn't think much about as a child, a new wish has done well to revive my passion for absolutely overanalyzing and reading up upon every little thing within a franchise. it's kind of rare that i rant and rave about a show this often. the only other contender that reaches this level of insanity being... well, niche enough that i dont get the chance to talk about it online, unfortunately

but yeah, that's the gist of it! i hope i was able to satiate your curiosity

:)

[tubbytarchia]

We should support artists and help them recognize their worth but I'm honestly so tired of "Your colored and shaded art is worth more than 10 bucks" and "these prices are too low" etc. Kind of maddening to me that it's treated like a choice when most artists will never have the reach to charge "fairly" for their art on a consistent basis. This isn't a jab at anyone because most people saying this are well meaning and maybe accidentally tonedeaf at worst, but the only choice some people have is either earn a little bit of money or earn no money at all. Idk surely there's other ways to be supportive or tell someone that their art is worthwhile without insisting that they raise their prices. Where and what is the advice once the prices ARE raised as suggested and yet no money is made? Would the advice be to put prices back down? To just be persistent and be better at advertising yourself?

When I started out, I tried to price "fairly", with and without advice from fellow artists (who all suggested prices that never sold) and then just decreased those prices like 5 times because no one would commission me. I wasn't upset when an anon told me "I was surprised to see the prices!", but I am upset about all the "these prices seem too low..." I got years ago in retrospect. When I voiced that I couldn't charge any higher because otherwise I wouldn't get paid, I was often dismissed. And I couldn't help but note that by all the people who got commissioned at least regularly with good pay

I'm not personally too upset about my own commissioning situation anymore, I used to be, but after so many mental breakdowns of trying to earn any money that justified the time I spent on my art and failing miserably, I accepted that it just isn't even for me. (This is why I wouldn't ever want to work with a CC either lol I would kms. As a one-off maybe). I still offer it but with a lot of leniency towards myself, which I think warrants lower pricing and I'm not upset about it. Because who would've guessed, that doing a hobby you love as a line of work with inherent new pressures isn't always going to make you happy and can ruin the hobby for you instead! Wild.

My personal commission meltdown journey under cut, because I want to and I think it'll make me feel better

My awesome commission meltdown happened about a year ago, but boy I have been trudging for awhile. Maybe 5 or 6 years ago now, I used to have a friend, my former best friend, who struck gold. They got lucky. Their art was also fantastic, but ultimately they got lucky, because good art in itself never guarantees that you can earn buck from it. They created a closed species that quickly became very popular to the point that they could draw one design on a whim and easily get 50EUR minimum out of it. That's not even commission work, to get paid well for art that YOU want to make is an absolute dream but even less reliable for most artists than commission work. I created multiple species too with like 0.20EUR prices and followed all the advice my friend gave me. I advertised myself like hell which is something I've continued to do until a year ago with a 100% failure rate. For funsies, some specimens of the species I attempted to sell (I very much detached from my usual preferred monster designs too to try and have wider appeal and gimmicks)

(If anyone wants to "adopt" any Rosebuds (1st rose-like species) or Dumlins (2nd bird-like species) for free then you're very welcome to, I can send the full sheets lol. Only one of them ever got adopted. I'm over it but hey just in case there are any adoptable fanatics in here)

After a few years I think I gave up, didn't earn a dollar with any of them and moved over to commissions because that's way easier to get money for anyway, I thought. And I've done many commissions by now but with most costing 5-20EUR. Very few outliers got any tips (usually from friends) and very few people were willing to pay more to begin with. I think I've done just 2 artwork that I was paid 50 for and those are the only comms I've done above 20EUR, and I count myself very lucky for ever even getting that opportunity. Here's some examples of commissions I've done for 20 bucks or less

(To be clear, I'm not upset about any of these. Jk lol I'm forever bothered by one of them. The 1st one but I will spare the details)

I tried so desperately to advertise myself on Twitter, on Tumblr, on DA, on Reddit, on Discord servers... in the end I got like one commission that wasn't just from a friend or acquaintance , and I'm willing to bet at least a few "friend" commissions I've done were out of pity, and I wouldn't blame them because I was a desperate little teenager. I went through a whole furry arc where I went out of my way to draw furry art because everyone knows furries got the money. I was very open to nsfw art too for very low prices to help me build my portfolio further, and I was again full-throttle advertising every which way I knew how, trying to reach out there, and gained nothing for it

Meanwhile, I just felt like doing this little animation. This wretched thing. This fucking. This little piece of work that came from a place of love and now I want to cry thinking about what this thing did to me

This is a niche Yugioh monster that I animated dancing. Somehow, it got out of the Yugioh circle and popped the fuck off majorly on twitter. Nobody knew what the hell this thing is but they liked it. This shit got reposted on Tiktok, on Reddit, probably many other sites too with zero credit back to me, naturally, with hundreds of thousands of views, possibly millions, I would check if I could still find any of them. So that sucked but guess what else happened? Like 5 people DMed me about commissioning animation work from me. TO THIS DAY despite my twitter being now deleted, people every so often reach out to me about this. And because there was DEMAND I figured, I can ask fair prices. But I'd never been able to before so I still undersold myself A LOT. Fully fledged animation is hard goddamn work. But I accepted 3 commissions, and I made progress on all of them, and then I deleted my twitter. I left all of those people in the dark (I never took any of their money though!!! I never ask for money until my work is completed unless you buy through Kofi)

I just realized how fucking miserable it all made me and how much I didn't want to do this and what a piss poor motivator money is for me to do art for, in the comfort of my home. I love money, I sure would love to have more of it and not have to rely on minimum wage jobs that I dislike but god, all of that made me so deeply upset and with all those years of failure, I suddenly struck gold like my friend had all those years back, and I had so many people wanting to give me money for my work, and it felt like a fucking joke. I was honestly just so peeved and pissed off that this is what it took, and had a meltdown over it and I was also just in the worst place of my life at the time that I've never truly recovered from. All of this just added to how much I wished to be eaten by a wild animal on a daily basis at the time

I don't feel like I got ANYTHING out of all that. The money I got absolutely didn't justify the effort and time I put into commissions and all my self advertising and portfolio building ventures were a waste of time too. The only thing I've taken away from it is that I don't want to repeat that and I will probably never want to work a job doing art or animation even if it could pay more than minimum wage crap. My former friend has a successful Patreon, I've encountered dubs of their comics with millions of views on various platforms, their species even got ripped off by someone who just turned their species nsfw, lol. And I draw minecraft men kissing

I'm not happy but I'm not upset about it anymore, even if I still get majorly peeved by some artists who underplay their immense success whilst others are begging for crumbs. (Again they usually mean well but sometimes I do find these people genuinely dislikeable. Anyway). In a perfect world, artists wouldn't have to work their asses of to get grocery money and be so reliant on luck to pop off once and then never have to worry about it again. I'm sad this is what it took for me to realize it's not even for me, after all these years of negligible profit, and I'm sad I was ever led to believe that getting fair pay was possible without all the work I put into trying to get my art out there, only to eventually succeed via pure luck and then not earning a penny from it anyway. Please support and continue to support small artists. If you can, please tip them too. Share and support their work in other ways if you can't or don't want to pay!

With all that said though, I appreciate anyone who has commissioned me during my time in the MCYT fandom, that means so much to me that you like my art that much. And I'm really sorry for the few people I ended up refunding because I didn't feel up to their requests - that's what I mean by the leniency I give myself. If it ever comes close to stressing me out again, I'll just give it up in favor of my mental health haha. And I hope you guys understand. Thank you as well for anyone who's bought my MCYT merch, you are so awesome and I'm actually omw to earning some profit from it eventually which has made me happier than any other art related work I've done

and with THAT said, man NONE of you have used discounts that I've hidden in my text posts previously..!! I reinforce though that regardless, I'm open to haggling if you're tighter on money but want to get a little something. I love you regardless though and thanks for listening to my shit ted talk

[pixelatedraindrops]

Hello everyone!! Today I grow a year older :3 (and I hate it lmao) FEEL FREE TO REPLY BIRTHDAY WISHES IF YOU WANT :3

So, over the time I've come back here, I've become pretty confident and proud of my once hidden passion about sick characters, sickfics and sick comfort/whump... 🌡️

And you all have been so supportive and sweet despite my weirdness so I thank you for that. You helped me feel more confident in my otherwise weird fixation <3 So, for my birthday I thought I'd try and make up a little drawing challenge for anyone who wants to give it a try... There are soo many talented artists on this site (and in this fandom)

So... It's your turn to target your faves now. You will see how fun it is and hopefully understand why I love doing it so much. 😈🌡️

(plus it's my birthday and I require some sustenance LMAO JKJK)

But yeah anyone can join in. This is just for fun though! You don't have to if you don't want to! I think its okay to ask for some food on my birthday though...right?? X'D So if you wanna do sth for my birthday...then... 👉👈 💦

CHALLENGE BELOW~

DRAW YOUR FAVE ON A SICK DAY CHALLENGE🌡️😷🥵🤧

~~~~

(Mmmmkay, I am lying to myself when I say this isn't mostly aimed at the RainCode community... X'D Can't help myself. But anyone can join regardless of the fandom!!)

So here's the challenge and the rules!! (featuring my two main lil targets ofc :3)

Regardless of who it is, put your fave through some sickness hell >:3c I'd love to see it! Make em' as miserable as you want!

destroy them 😈 jkjk XD

If you're in the RainCode community you can target anyone, but as you know, my main targets are Yuma and Makoto. If they're also your faves and who you decide to use, that will make me extra happy!

Some tips for anyone new to drawing a sick day scenario art. A few things that make it look convincing are the following:

Pajamas or Loungewear

Messy Bed Hair

Fever flushed face w sweat or at least a red nose

Tired Eye bags

Shivery body

Ice Pack or a Compress on the head

Thermometer sticking from their mouth

LOTS OF BLANKETS

Tissues or medicine surrounding them

Tea or Soup (or both)

Those are just to name some from the top of my head. If you'd like some pointers on how to make a character look ill, check out my Fever Coloring Guide. This is for digital artists but traditional artists can try it too!

You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.

The scene can be anything you want to, it can be fluffy and wholesome (with a caretaker) it can be angsty, or it can be silly. Its all up to you! Do it for the sake of fluff! Caretaking scenes are the best for any kind of relationship >w<

Either way, have fun with it!! I look forward to see what people make if they decide to give it a try! It doesn't even have to be a full on picture! Doodles and sketches are fine too! Just show me something >w<

(feel free to tag me and say happy b-day and mention my challenge, I am proud to be known for this and would love for many to participate :3) I wanna see you take a go at it :3 Show me your style! :D

~

~~~

(wow look at me misspelling the word writing on text when I did it fine with my own hands lol)

Now, I know not everyone can draw...

Well never fear! I accept writing as well! ✍️✍️✍️

(hi vivia lol sorry for giving you a cold, at least you have an excuse to read and do nothing now haha x3)

Sickfics are one of the biggest things I live for! Any little drabbles or full fics with more than one chapter are welcome! Again target who you want any fandom you want, but I'll def be super happy if you make a RainCode fic. And even happier if you target my faves as well, but again, anything will do! Just make a cute story about your fave being miserable and being tended to! Trust me, it's super fun!

You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.

Feel free to post your writing here and tag me or mention my AO3!

If you need a start to your fic, look on my blog for illness prompts! Maybe it can help give you a good start or give some inspiration! (thats why I share 'em :3)

I look forward to anything you try to write!

~

That's about all!! I hope you decide to participate! ✨

Good luck, have fun, and godspeed you future whumpers! 😈

(nah jk XD)

AGAIN THIS IS FOR FUN! NO PRESSURE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!

[rawenreality]

That place felt like a world apart, nothing like the Zaun you knew. It was almost unreal how the heavy, metallic air of the Lower City clung to your lungs, yet it mixed with this intrusive light from above. The light felt alive, warm, and gentle, turning the dark abyss into something… sacred.

As you walked further, the ground beneath you was covered in a lush carpet of greenery. Plants and flowers you’d never seen in this miserable city thrived, nurtured by careful hands and fertile soil. The buildings came into view—shacks and structures made from recycled metal and polished glass.

It was strange but also fascinating. People worked together in the fields, carrying baskets overflowing with fruits and vegetables, while others tended to the injured or the addicted, murmuring promises that he would heal them. It was a peace that almost made your ears itch, so used to the chaos as they were.

At the center of it all, a colossal dome rose into view, leaving you breathless. It was made of glass, metal, and something beyond human—magical.

And then, you saw him. Viktor.

He stood near the dome, talking to a group of residents. His presence was unmistakable—tall, lean, and nothing like the image you’d preserved in your memories of him from a distant past. But something about his eyes made you freeze. They weren’t that warm honey color you used to love anymore. Yet, somehow, that familiar pull tightened in your chest. You sighed. His calm gaze seemed magnetic, drawing you closer.

The dome behind him shimmered like the sun, its light reflecting off the metallic modifications of his body. Viktor looked like he’d become part of that place, an extension of it. The people around him seemed to worship him, radiating a quiet devotion.

With a small nod, he gestured for the others to leave. “Welcome,” he said, smiling, offering you his hand.

When you took it, he pulled you into a firm, warm hug. The kind a war survivor might give to family they thought they’d never see again. “The thought of you finding me consumed me for so long,” he whispered into your hair.

His words sent a rush of heat through your body, pooling in your cheeks, which burned a deep red.

He pulled back just slightly, his arms still around your smaller frame compared to his height. There was none of the urgency he used to carry, none of that obsessive need for an idealized version of himself. Without the illness, he could walk, and now he wasn’t the one who needed healing—he was the healer.

“Viktor…” your fingers reached for his face and long hair, your eyes searching his with a mix of confusion and awe. “How? All of this is…”

“Incredible,” he interrupted, letting go of you gently. “I’ve cured them of their obsessions, their anguish, their flaws.” His smile was sure, too sure.

Viktor watched you with a calmness that bordered on eerie tranquility, as if all the chaos and pain he’d endured no longer existed for him. His smile wasn’t just that of a man healed—it was the smile of someone who no longer needed redemption. He gestured to the fields around him, to the majestic dome that seemed part of him now, natural and eternal. “Look,” he said, his golden eyes shimmering, “everything here is the product of our evolution. It’s not just about healing bodies—it’s about transforming minds. Transforming souls. Every single person here was once lost, but now they’re connected to the true force that powers this place.”

You looked around, noticing the faces of those who, like him, seemed reborn. This wasn’t just about curing physical wounds—this was something deeper, something almost untouchable. The entire place pulsed with an energy that seemed to manipulate everything, from the plants to the people’s hearts.

But something about Viktor unsettled you, something beyond his calm demeanor. It was as if he’d become a god—or worse, as if he’d left his humanity behind. “Viktor, did you… do this to them? How?” you asked, your voice a mix of fear and almost unbearable curiosity.

He stepped closer, keeping enough distance, but his presence filled the space between you like a physical weight. “I’m freeing them,” he said, his voice low but firm. “From everything that holds them back. Our greatest enemy is our own mind, and you know that, don’t you?”

You swallowed hard, trying to process the weight of his words. Viktor had become something that no longer fit into the simple categories of healing or sickness. He was offering salvation that sounded more like poison.

“And what about those who don’t want to be healed?” you asked, your voice trembling as you tried to keep your inner turmoil hidden.

Viktor paused for a moment. When he responded, it wasn’t with words but a gentle expression that seemed to understand more than it let on. “They all want to be healed, even the ones who resist. They just don’t know it yet.”

The tension between you both was almost unbearable. He was convinced he was right, that he’d found the way to something greater. But there was something dark about this “greater.” Something you couldn’t ignore.

Your chest tightened. How could someone free themselves from their own pain without losing what made them human?

He took another step toward the dome, his figure blending with its light, as if he truly was part of it now. “Come with me,” he said, extending his hand again. This time, it was an offer without urgency, without pressure, as if time no longer existed for him.

Your eyes lingered on his long, thin fingers hovering in the air. For a moment, everything around you seemed to fade. All that remained was him and you, in that vast field of flowers and plants.

Memories flooded back like a storm. The Viktor you once knew… He was brilliant, yes, but also human. You remembered the way his brow furrowed when he was deep in thought, those long nights you’d find him hunched over his desk, his hands stained with grease, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

That Viktor would’ve been muttering curses under his breath, throwing in a sarcastic comment or two. He’d pull some ridiculous stunt to make you laugh, imitating Heimerdinger or cracking some overly dramatic line about science. He was imperfect, brilliant, human.

And now? The Viktor standing in front of you was calm, perfect, but unsettlingly alien.

“Viktor…” you finally spoke, your voice breaking slightly. “What happened to you?”

He exhaled deeply, something familiar flickering in his eyes for just a moment. “I changed,” he said softly. “I had to. I was… sick. Stuck in a cycle of pain, trying to fix the world without fixing myself.”

You blinked, your chest tightening. “You weren’t weak, Viktor. You were human. You cared, even when you thought you couldn’t go on.”

He smiled again, bittersweet. “I still care,” he said, though something in his tone made you doubt. “But now, I see a better way. A way where no one has to suffer like we did.”

His words were beautiful, too perfect. But something about them left a knot in your stomach.

“And you?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Are you still you, Viktor?”

He didn’t answer immediately. His gaze drifted back to the dome, his golden eyes reflecting its glow. “Maybe I’m more than I ever was,” he said at last. “And maybe that’s what I’ve always wanted to be.”

Tears threatened to spill as you looked at him. This Viktor felt so far away, and yet, a part of him—small but real—was still the man you once knew.

“Viktor, I… I don’t know what to think. I don’t know what to feel.”

He extended his hand again, his touch almost breaking your resolve. “Then come with me,” he said, his voice soft and steady. “See for yourself.”

You knew that if you took his hand, something inside you would change forever. But you also knew you couldn’t walk away without understanding—not after everything you’d been through together.

With a deep breath, you stepped forward, your heart racing. When your hand met his, a wave of warmth spread through you, but there was also a strange emptiness that made you shiver. He held your fingers gently, as if afraid they might break.

“I trust you, Viktor,” you whispered. “But I trust myself too.”

His smile widened, serene and unreadable. “That’s all I needed to hear,” he said.

[randomfoggytiger]

The X-Files 30th Anniversary

Day 7: 30th Anniversary Extravaganza

Today, I'm thanking The X-Files community for bringing me across a wonderful show-- its amazing cast and writers and fans-- and inspiring me to get back on my own creative hobbyhorse.

My Thanks

Being a part of a collective who want to celebrate this show and others' creative endeavors with heartfelt good wishes has been exciting, fun... and humbling.

My special thanks to the many people who welcomed me with open arms and contribute to this space, even if it's "simply" (but it's never just anything, is it?) answering asks or reblogging or even liking a random post that passed from one blog to another.

There are too many to list, so I'll just chat about my most remembered moments:

@baronessblixen, for being so kind and encouraging that you drew me out of the anon shadows; for liking what I create; for giving me a logical mind to bounce my ideas off of in asks; and for inadvertently teaching me the joy of appreciating animal videos (and convincing me, along with Vavie, to watch Return to Me.)

@dd-is-my-guiltypleasure, for our cherished Duchovny talks; for your heart and your amazingly detailed dedication; for your artbook that I prize dearly; and for your warmth and good humor.

@suitablyaggrieved, for your spectacular and refreshing meta takes; for persevering in your creative works and this fandom; and for sharing the progress pics of your beautiful X-Files themed sweater.

@welsharcher, for being my mini Kermit-loving pool noodle~ (I love brightening your day as much as your messages brighten mine); for your gifs and posts that make my heart soar; and for our shared, priceless sense of humor.

@agent-troi, for being a solidly intelligent third party to the Pre-S1 Mulder Singleton Club; for your hilarious hashtags and great insights; and for your amazing fic output.

@mondfuchs/@annablume, for swapping XF fic recs in my early Tumblr days; and for making my year by drawing my little boopy-tongued tiger in Mulder's arms to celebrate our collective birthday (post here. Still makes me sappy thinking about it~.)

@amplifyme, for returning to Tumblr and giving me a chance to meet you; for sharing your excellent BATB series (in general and Nan Dibble in particular); and for sharing your thoughts as you slowly peel back the psyche of Vincent and the worlds Above and Below.

@demon-fetal-harvest, for being one of the first to die over my Scully Les Miserables amv (it's one of my favorites I love to rewatch; and I think of you every time I do); and for your hilarious reblogs and even more hilarious tags.

@xxsksxxx and @two-microscopes for being the first to reblog and like during a rough time. I'll cherish that moment forever~.

@medicaldoctordana, for being cool and creative and driven; and for hating the mainstream MBTI system as much as I do (and for your philosophy recs-- will get around to them someday.)

@ibringyouasong89, for being my fellow warrior in the trenches. We're new of acquaintance, but I think this will be a beauuuuuuuuuutiful friendship~. ;))))

@writingwell, @enigmaticdrblockhead, and @perpetually-weirdening, @spidey-is-tired, @cyb3rpeach, @scullys-scalpel, @frogsmulder, @teenie-xf, @dreamingofscully, @freckleslikestars, @cecilysass, @slippinmickeys, @gabby-msr, @thatfragilecapricorn30, @television-overload, @pianogirlxf @mollybecameanengineer, and @settle-down-frohike for being mutually supportive and welcoming. The world is both large and small; and I'm glad my path was able to intersect with yours.

And thank you to the silent-but-always-theres who take the time to drop in and give my posts the time of day~: @samucabd, @sonictacocat, @kiivitaja, @freckleslikestars, @nimlurks, @redteekal, @mindibindi, @marinas5099, @chavisory, @sizzlingempathspybat, @enigmaticxbee, @inflappible, @metamayou, @invidiosa, @txcb1013, @dytttt, @borogirl, @agentbluefox, @agentwhalesong, and ALL OF YOU. I can't tag anymore because Tumblr is tapping me out; but I include you-- yes, you-- in this as well.

My Projects

While The X-Files turned 30, my fandom experience turned (a little over) a year old! Wow, time does fly when you're... speed typing out multiple essays worth of fic rec lists, meta analyses, and personality typing posts (or even wrangling a video editor, compressor, and uncooperative Tumblr site to upload an amv.)

My full list of accomplishments can be found here; but these are a few highlights that were standouts to me personally:

My First Fic

randomfoggytiger’s Son of Egypt (Prince of Egypt twist on television-overload's what if: Samantha adopted and raised William.)

Fic Rec Lists

Meet the Mulders

Creepy and Cozy Cabins  

Time Travel, Time Loops, and Just Wrong Timing 

Car Wrekt 

S9 Mulder Stays or Returns While the Mytharc Barrels On

Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part I) 

Poll Results Fic: 1st Place- Scully Injured but In-Charge

Poll Results Fic: 2nd Place- Cleaning Out the Vineyard House

Poll Results Fic: 3rd Place-- Tithonus Mother Hen Mulder

The Field Where I Fix-It Fic-ed

Analysis Posts

Arcadia Analysis: Scully Was Enjoying Herself Immensely 

Never Again: An Intensive Essay (and its paired twin: Never Again and Fear)

One Son: An Intense, One-Shot Analysis of “You’re Making This Personal”  

The Mulder Family In-Depth (Part VI): Talitha Cumi and Tena's Lies

S5 Is a Pretty Dark Time for Mulder

The Scully Family In-Depth (Part VII): Mulder, Maggie, Melissa, and the Snake

Mulder Trauma Responses: Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn? 

Scully Trauma Responses: Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn?

Mulder and Dreams

Milagro In-Depth (Part II): Loneliness Is a Choice and Lamps Go Dark

How the Ghosts Stole Christmas In-Depth: Full Analysis

Scully Is the Conduit Conductor and Mulder Is the Dancer

How Scully Taught Mulder to Hug

Mulder and Dreams

CSM Inflicted Insanity On the Syndicate

Fire and False Romance, Ice and Love

All IVF Roads Lead Away from The Unnatural and to Millennium 

Jungian Personality Typing Posts

{{Extraction: Proving Mulder Is an INTP, Not an INFJ/INFP}} 

SCULLY, The Enigmatic ISTJ

XF Fanvids/AMVs

Les Miserables AMV: Scully's Solo

The Muppets AMV: Drivin’ Right Along

Fiddler on the Roof AMV: Mulder and Samantha

Bonus Content (Fandom Adjacent)--

React: "Return to Me" from the POV of Someone Averse to RomComs

Personality Typing: Return to Me

HAPPY 30TH ANNIVERSARY, XF!

And cheers to all~!

Enjoy!

[dross-the-fish]

I've been looking back through your blog. It looks like prior to your current goth lit phase you weren't all that active. What changed?

A lot.

Mostly it was my attitude. I posted maybe a few things per month or would go weeks at a time without posting anything because I was of the impression that anything more would be too much and I'd be over staying my welcome. I still struggle with the mindset that what I have to offer people isn't really worth sharing but I've learned to make my blog as much for myself as for my followers and it's become an archive of work I'm glad I made.

After the goth lit campaign ended I wanted to do more with what I'd built. That's the other factor in my jump in activity, what I'm posting now with my crossover AU is about something I made vs just things I like and might occasionally want to talk about. My universe may not be a perfect creation but I like tinkering with it, and sharing it with the goth lit fandom has bolstered my inspiration and my confidence in a way just running a closed circle DnD campaign alone could not.

I've also started drawing every day instead of twice a month because I've rediscovered my love for it. I used to almost be embarrassed to draw because it was always so heavily discouraged or outright mocked by my family and people in my life that I all but lost the passion for it. I finally stopped caring about making "good" or "accessible" art and got back to drawing characters and fanart because I enjoy it. It won't feed me, or stand the test of time as some great contribution to art and literature, but I feel like I can finally like what I make and worry less about whether it's "worthy" of being shared.

in october of last year I made 3 drawings. That was it, that was all for the entire month and that had been my average output for years because I couldn't pick up a pencil without hearing an ugly voice in the back of my head tell me I wasn't good enough to make art a marketable skill and that if I had time to do something as frivolous as draw I had time to take more overtime at my job. So I did, and I collapsed at work one day after a 14 hour shift with only two fifteen minute breaks and a half hour lunch I'd had to cut short. I realized putting my health and happiness on the line didn't change anything. My family wasn't nicer to me, my job didn't value my time more, all it did was make me miserable and make my partner worry about me. My partner and I went low contact with my family and I started taking better care of myself and with that came more motivation to take the time to do the things I enjoy.

[reikunrei]

if i may be embarrassing for a minute here (beware: gushing about things and people that make me happy in my miserable life ahead)

the last 4 or so years of my life have been hell. and especially the last 1.5-2 years have been awful and i’ve never been in such a dark mental space. lots of sudden physical health problems (many of which are just sorta like “shrug idk just wait it out”) and a continuous downward spiral of my mental health (bc of the physical health stuff but also long-lasting financial issues, gender dysphoria, being stuck living with family which makes me wanna kms, etc.), all of which also makes it difficult or impossible to perform my regular hobbies (writing, drawing, video games, all of them are physically painful due to tendinitis) so my free time is always either unfulfilling or literally hurts me to do

and i’ve had lots of friends over the years who’ve made me laugh and smile, and I’m forever grateful to them and love them all dearly (to those of you who will see this bc you follow me here, hi, ily. to those who won’t see it bc they don’t follow me here, I’ll have to drop into those group chats and say a quick ily too)

but i’ve also begun interacting with a lot of new people in the last few months and I’m very grateful for y’all too. most of you are on here. probably all of you are on here. if you’re reading this, hi. what’s up. anyway

it just made me glad that i can still meet new people and get along well enough with them, even meet people i solidly call friends bc we started talking semi-regularly (hi sam!!! i hope you’re not drowning in your busy life lol). like, i have trouble making and hanging onto friends bc it’s just not my strong suit, and i like being by myself, but i do crave community just like any other human. and i haven’t had a community as active as this one ("this one" being my current corner of the st fandom) on this website in a while

i had to leave one community last year bc of one of my health issues that made it so i couldn’t interact with them very much, and just sitting there silently for months was too stressful for me, so when that went quiet i sort of… didn’t have a super active corner i was in, and it kind of made me super miserable

so i’m just glad I found this spot. a new spot for me to shimmy into on this website, where i’ve been jumping from community to community for the last decade. i feel like i haven’t been this into something and this into a community in a long time. and it feels good. really good

like even if there’s a lot about my life right now that i absolutely hate, there’s still a lot of things that i can be happy about. and a lot of love to find and share. so i may as well focus on that despite everything else. and i know this all sounds silly and embarrassing but i just have to remind myself that there are good things for me to look forward to, and good people to surround myself with, and i may as well put that thought out there on the off chance that someone who has made me smile recently might see it and know i appreciate them immensely. i can look forward to the future as much as i want, but at least i have folks right now who bring me joy, even if it’s small or sounds silly to say

so thank you to everyone who’s made me feel welcome. who’s given me presences to enjoy and people to admire. who’s been kind enough to interact with me and say nice things about the stuff I create. and really just to allow me to participate in a wacky fun corner that brings at least one smile to my face every day, but realistically, it's more than that

thanks :3

[mysterybooks-world]

fan fiction & fan art always decided on Jack Spicer's story

But what about Jack himself?

Doesn't he have the right to decide?

I mean what is Jack's personal opinion or feeling on this matter of his life

I'm with Jack Tell him and Show him about this

He became mad at these people and their thoughts about him.

Here's what Jack says

Jack: Are you kidding me? What is your problem people?

Firstly: I didn't dye my hair This is my natural color is red.

secondly: For your information (Some people naturally have white teeth and others have slightly yellow or beige teeth) that is Real information

so my teeth are normal color.

thirdly: My skin color is white so Why are some of your drawings about me with a different skin tone? huh

Fourthly: Why do your stories about me make me more miserable? tragic unhappy. wretched. afflicted. agonized. hurting. I am Murderous, crazy, or I kill myself

Or make me The good side.

I know I'm lonely but this is too much.

Fifthly:I'm not Transgender I am him or he

a boy & male.

Don't forget that.

Sixthly: The thing that's really crazy about me is the ships

Why are you making me love Chase Young this way?

okay, it might seem that way but Chase Young is just my hero in evil

You know like when you meet your idol, actor or singer.

I mean do you know his age?

he is over 1,500 years old.

I am with Wuya Are you crazy?

She's like my teacher or my grandmother And her age

A 1500-year-old Heylin witch.

Katnappé aka Ashley hates me and I hate her So it's impossible for us to be together.

I did speak to Le Mime Only twice Season: 1 Episode: 2 (Like a Rock!) Season: 3 Episode 13(Time After Time: Part 2)

I don't even know anything about him, just a mime from France who had magical abilities.

As for Vlad A thousand no

Gigi Only sees me as his servant or his pet.

Shadow (Xiaolin Chronicles)

She literally part of Chase Young, this is very strange.

the wors is another part with the Monks.

Omi Just a kid

somewhere between the ages of 8-10 (Season 1 start) and somewhere between 10-12 (Season 3 end).

I'm like his big brother figure

Raimundo and Clay are nothing for me

as for Kimiko Yes, she is cute but She has anger problems And I'm not her type.

And the another ships From different dimensions

Blossom Utonium (Powerpuff Girls)cartoon.

Princess Morbucks (Powerpuff Girls)cartoon.

Betty Barrett from (Atomic Betty) cartoon.

Tom Lucitor from (Star vs. the Forces of Evil) cartoon.

Hunter from (The Owl House) cartoon.

Red Son from (Monkey kid) cartoon.

I don't know these people

And did anyone ask me if I was gay or Bisexual.

I may be asexual.

What about you guys.

me with The reader or me with your oc Character and I don't know whether I should feel happy that I am famous or uncomfortable They interfere with my privacy.

Jack: <Especially if your story have +18 0r s##>

Me say toJack: Welcome to the tumblr sexyman club While you are there Can you Send my regards to sans, bendy, freddy,huggy wuggy, wally darling And to the new member tadc jax from (the amazing digital circus)

Jack looked at me with an insanely angry look

I want a lawyer To stop this stupidity.

I'm tired of you all

I will go on long vacation with myster and Ye

Good day Wait a minute, I mean Bad day

Jack got sick of you all and comes out of the rooms.

Me: I don't blame Jack

I mean, I like drawings of Jack, but It better be original and Classic

I mean let Jack be Jack

True, we make him an amazing Jack, or his story is a sad Jack, or he becomes a good Jack

Ye: What did I miss? I didn't pay attention to the conversation I was enjoying ice cream Taste.

Me: Pack your bags We're going on vacation with Jack.

[theswedishpajas]

I’m sorry if this has been answered at all before but do you take commissions? I adore your art

Thank you so much!! It means a lot that I can bring good vibes to people with what I create :o)

But sadly the answer is no.

I wish I could take commissions, and I used to in the past, but I found myself unable to draw for others without it making me miserable to do so.

I do technically take requests but it’s more of a gamble, I love people having ideas for things they wanna see me draw and my askbox is always open for those who wanna take a chance and see if it’ll be a hit or not-

But that’s the thing, you can never be sure if I WILL draw the thing or not as it completely depends on my mood that day and my attention span… plus it’ll most likely be just a small doodle too ú-ù

Again tho, I’m always happy to be given a chance to draw something someone wants to see so you’re always welcome to send requests/suggestions!! :o)

[lovelymessybubbly]

I love how there are all these “SFW” communities out there.

In my experience and opinion, these people are all just a bunch of late bloomer minors who haven’t discovered true arousal yet, and a bunch of teens, high school and college kids who are in denial that these weird ass things turn them on, manifesting those feelings into butterflies in their stomach, not their groins.

In essence, I think everyone’s a hypocrite lol. Except for the kinky adults who are actually honest with themselves.

And to the tickle community in particular: You’re going to sit there and tell me that getting red in the face and blushing, getting butterflies in your stomach, getting flustered and wanting intimate affectionate physical contact and giggling out of excitement…you’re really going to sit there and tell me that’s not some sort of arousal?

Do me a favor. Try masturbating during your next lee mood.

Boom.

Fireworks. You’ve just had your sexual awakening. You’re welcome.

oh ! actually, i am aroused by tickling ! i have a tickling kink (＾▽＾) and i have been very aware of this for a while. but i also know how to appreciate tickling in a fun and cuddly way, without it being sexually driven !! sometimes when i cuddle with my boyfriend, it leads to sex. other times, it’s just nice to cuddle. we take a nap and snuggle and all our clothes stay. sometimes, i give my bf sensual massages, with candles and oils. but then sometimes, i scratch my friend’s back as an expression of companionship. sometimes my mom rubs my shoulders because she loves me. and sometimes my boyfriend just scratches my back because i ask him, and it feels nice, and it’s a form of love, and that’s it.

sometimes my bf tickles me during sex. sometimes he ties me up with no top on and feathers me. sometimes i moan when stroked on my feet. sometimes i finish faster when being teased under my arms

but sometimes, my boyfriend tickles me to cheer me up, and his attempts to lighten the mood make me laugh more than the tickling. sometimes i ask him to tickle me while we are cuddling, and he playfully spiders my sides while i giggle into his shoulders. sometimes he times me at how long i can be ticked in one spot. sometimes he blows raspberries on my neck. sometimes he just coos at how cute i am while laughing. and no loins grow wet, no clothes come off, no sexual acts happen, and we still enjoy it very much.

i can appreciate the sfw side of tickling because i love tickling, i love drawing, i love seeing my favorite characters laugh, and i know how to respect others.

you, on the other hand, have way too much time on your hands and are going into the inboxes of people who are minding their own business and spouting this blue-balled nonsense (and to many MINORS at that) thinking that you are making a point, that you are the next andrew tate, and everyone is just going to have this hypnotic eye-opening and change all their blogs to Deviantart fetish accounts because your shallow words touched them so much, when in reality you are probably a single, unemployed, studio-apartment, mom-pays-my-phone-bill unshaven, unhygienic, uneducated, shallow and narrow-minded individual who will probably never experience a woman’s love (and trust me, women are WAY better in bed when they actually find you attractive) and will be miserable and alone because you spend your time spewing your garbage at people who don’t care you exist instead of doing something with your life.

you are so starved for attention and compassion that you are begging for attention from strangers, even if it’s negative attention. no wonder you cannot fathom people enjoying any form of affection that isn’t driven by sexual desires or ulterior motives. no one has ever given you that pure kind of affection, have they?

thank you for stopping by my blog, anon ! but please do not make an appearance again. tamadachi, keep doing what you love ! ♡ฅ(ᐤˊ꒳ฅˋᐤ♪)

[ladymarycrawley]

I know you too well - Mason Mount

Request: Can you write one with mason where your boy (4 years old) asked you to call his daddy because he misses him and wants to talk to him and then when you’re at the phone he asked you if you can let him talk to his daddy on his own, he tells Mason that you’re not feeling very well but at the end you’re pregnant

Tag list: @masonxomount​ @chelsealover​

The days where Mason was forced to stay away from you because of his hectic working schedule were the worst ever. Especially lately, since you had been feeling particularly tired due to your working shifts and taking care of your 4 year old son, Y/S/N. He was the light of your life, always bringing the most happy smiles to your face, exactly like his dad.

He also inherited his father’s energy and love for football so sometimes it became quite stressful keeping up with him: in the morning you would drop him at the nursery, then, when you didn’t have papers to fill out or chores to do, you did play with him until it became time to prepare something to eat for dinner.

You thought work and your full time job as a mum were the things to blame for your particularly tired state.

“Mummyyyy” Y/S/N came running to you, who were trying to rest a bit before doing the laundry.

“Yes, baby?”

“When will daddy come back?” He was such a daddy’s boy, if it were up to him he would have followed him everywhere.

“A couple of days, sweetheart. Do you miss him?”

Your boy put on a sad pout, nodding to your question.

A sad smile appeared on your face, as it made you so miserable seeing one of the two boys of your life like that.

“Come here” You took him in your arms to place him in your lap. You cuddled him in your arms, placing sweet kisses on his head and looking at his face, a perfect mix of yours and Mason’s best features.

“We could call him so you could tell him about your day at school while eating the chocolate cookies mummy baked just for you. What do you think?”  

Your words put him in a better mood, as he nodded with a happy smile this time, making you smile too.

You grabbed your phone from the armrest of the sofa you were sitting on and searched for Mason’s number to dial on Facetime. You placed another kiss to your giggling baby before setting the phone on the cafe table before you so you could hold your son on your lap.

“Hey daddy!”

“My favourite people ever! How are you?” Mason’s beaming smile welcomed you. He was resting on his bed, his right arm holding his head against the headboard.

“We’re fine, what about you?” You answered, looking at your son then to his father.

“Daddy I miss you” Y/S/N confessed in a soft voice, fiddling with the drawstring of his grey sweatpants, matching with the one Mason got.

You let out a soft laugh as you pressed a kiss to his soft cheek.

“I miss you too bud but I’ll be back on friday, I promise!”

“We did a lot of drawings at school today and the teacher said mine were the best in the class!”

“Really?? I can’t wait to see them, I’m so proud of you!”

Your son’s features light up at his dad’s words, he was literally his everything, he was his hero and the fact that all his classmates would have him as their idol made his love for his parent grow even more.

“Go and grab that beautiful drawing you did of your grannies, I’m sure daddy will love it!”

“Hey”

Y/S/N jumped down from your lap and ran towards his room to take it, making you and Mason laugh out loud.

It was also a way to let you two have a little moment of intimacy.

“Hey”

“I miss you like crazy”

“Are you alright? Why are you admitting you miss me?”

You rolled your eyes at his tease. He knew expressing your feelings wasn’t the thing you’d like to do the most but it was all the tiredness and weird things you had been feeling during that period that made you spill the truth to him.

“Because I love you and living without can be kinda hard sometimes…”

Mason let out a giggle, while grazing his lower lip with his thumb.

“I can’t believe you're saying these things…”

You blushed and looked away. “Mase, please”

“What? I’m happy to hear that and you know I miss you too!”

You smiled and looked intensely into his eyes: you didn’t need to share a lot of words to express your true feelings to each other, the glances you woud exchange were meaningful enough.

Y/S/N came running back in the living room as he covered the whole phone screen with the paper he drew on.

“This is nana, here’s uncle Lewis and here’s grandpa. Tomorrow I’ll do one with Summer and auntie Jaz!”

“That’s beautiful, love. Send them a pic of it, they’ll love it”

“Mummy, can I please talk to dad while eating my cookies?”

“Your cookies?? Hey little man, what do you mean? Those are supposed to be MY cookies!”

“No! Mummy made them for me!” He laughed, amused by his dad’s tease.

“So you and mummy made my chocolate chips cookies without me??”

“Yes and I’m eating all of them!” He confirmed proudly.

Mason pouted, pretending to be bothered by all the cookie drama enhancing louder laughters from his child.

“Come on, go in the kitchen, I’ll set the phone on the table and prepare your snack. No more than three cookies Y/S/N, ok?”

He nodded, looking at you with his big brown eyes.

Once he was seated, eating his cookies and talking to his dad you went upstairs to do the laundry.

“Ok, I’ll leave you two here. I’ll call you later tonight, ok?”

“I’ll have to plan my revenge then I’ll see if I have some time left to talk to you”

You left a kiss on your son’s head before glaring towards your boyfriend.

“I’ve better things to do than hearing you talking nonsense, silly”

“You love my nonsense”

“Bye Mase!” 

“Ok, we’re finally alone, man”

“Is uncle Ben with you, daddy?”

“He’s at the physio right now but I’ll make sure he talks to you tomorrow…hey, how’s mum doing? Are you taking care of her as you promised me?”

Your weird state didn’t go unnoticed to Mason: he saw your tired expression and sensed your annoyed voice, even though you’re saying him sweet things.

“Yes daddy! I’m doing it! But…”

“But?”

“Sometimes she’s a bit off…and yesterday I heard her crying in the bathroom”

“What?”

“She told me she missed you”

Mason was perfectly aware that it wasn’t the true reason behind your demeanor but it saddened him that he wasn’t there to take care of you and, most of all, that your kid was facing all of it alone.

“And this morning she did something really bad!”

“What was that, baby?”

“She ate ice cream for breakfast! And when I asked her if I could have it too she said I couldn’t!”

Mason couldn’t help but burst out laughing: it was perfectly clear to him that you’re pregnant but you wouldn’t spoil the surprise to your baby boy.

“Y/S/N can you put mummy on the phone for me, please?”

“Ok! I love you daddy!”

Mason’s eyes suddenly became watery and he cleared his voice, trying not to cry in front of his son.

“I love you too, little man”

“Mummyyyy

“What?”

“Daddy wants to talk to you”

You huffed, taking your phone back in your hands.

“Mason, I told you I have a lot of things to do. I’d have -”

“Are you pregnant?”

You widened your eyes at his brutal question: it was incredible how well he knew you, even being far away he perfectly noted your behaviour and connected all the dots.

“I don't know it yet to be honest… I was about to take the test” You grabbed the little paper box on the counter and showed it to him.

“Take it now, please. I’ll be here if you need me”

“No baby” You laughed “I’ll call you back as soon as I have the result, ok?”

“Ok, I love you”

“I love you more”

The call ended for you to take your time and see what the test will tell you. In case it was positive you’d really hope to have a baby girl…just the thought of Mason cradling your daughter in his arms made your stomach flutter.

You decided to tell to your boyfriend shooting a selfie of you holding the plastic stick and smiling “Baby Mount on the way ❤️”

You took a deep breath as your timer went off, meaning it was time to check your test. 

It didn’t come as a surprise when you saw the positive result on it, your symptoms were too clear to state a fake pregnancy.

Needless to say he called you back two seconds later, as soon as he saw your pic.

“I knew it!! I’m so happy! Fuck, I’m not there with you”

“Hey baby don’t worry. Three days will pass by so fast and we’ll all be together again. We’ll tell Y/S/N when you’ll be back, ok?”

“Tell me what?”

“Sweetheart, you scared me!”

“Sorry, mum”

“We have to tell you that we love you so so much and that daddy we’ll take you to the next training session” Mason said, trying to distract him, giving him the best news he ever received.

“Really?? Thanks daddy!! I love you!!!”

You both laughed. He was quite brilliant when it came to surprises  and making up thing in order to hide them.

“I have to go now, I’ll call you before going to bed, ok?”

“Fine, Mase. Try not to worry too much”

“I’m not worried!” You didn’t believe a word he’s saying, as he’s always been so careful with your pregnancy it became rather annoying sometimes.

“You think you know me but I know you kinda well too!”

“Ok, fine…but be ready for when I’ll be back home: I want my chocolate chips cookies and something sweeter…”

“BYE MASE”

You hung up laughing at his teasing.

You couldn’t wait until Friday to have him in your arms once again.

[katsubiatch]

Distant Shores-2

Summary: The heathens came to raid every year, stealing treasures and killing along the way. Your father was the King of Wessex and wanted to strike a deal with the heathens. The heathens and their ruthless numbers in exchange for some lands to farm, riches... and you. You are the Christian princess that is now to marry the Heathen King, a man that you're sure would rather kill you than marry you. This is going to be a miserable marriage.

A Viking!BakugouxReader fic.

The boat ride back to where the Vikings lived was a long one. As exciting as being on the open water was, to see so much open space it got old quickly. The water would spray at you, soaking you to your bones and causing you to shiver. There also wasn’t much to look at other than the deep blue of the ocean, white fluffy clouds in the sky, the other Viking ships floating nearby. 

You also couldn’t really speak to anyone, you did not know their language at all nor they yours. The only one who seemed to know anything was the man that was to be your husband, however he didn’t seem interested in talking. At least not to you. From what you could tell he was grumpy, rude, unpredictable and overall unpleasant. You wondered why these people followed him, weather or not they had a choice in the matter or not. Back home no matter what anyone thought of your father they had to follow, he was King after all. You weren’t quite sure how it worked here but you couldn’t ask either. 

You huffed, drawing the fur closer around your body, the same one that had been placed on you near the start of your journey. He had to have a nice bone somewhere in his body, right? If he gave you this fur, then again maybe he just hadn’t wanted to hear you complain. It felt like you had been on the sea forever, and there was a constant chill to you that you couldn’t shake. You had no idea how some of these men were shirtless, though you supposed it would be easy to work up a sweat rowing as they did. You hadn’t ever thought of that, that there were people who did such a job. You hadn’t been on one of your fathers ships and even if you had you wouldn’t have seen the men working so hard to row.  One of the men must have noticed your staring because he gestured to you and then to the oar that he was holding, laughing and joking with the men beside him. However you stood up, giving the man a smile. At this point you’d do anything to warm up and help. You felt useless this entire time, the only person who hadn’t taken a turn to row. The man looked shocked at you as you stood up, gently touching the oar. You weren’t quite sure how to do this, that much was obvious but the man did his best to instruct you without actually speaking. You figured you got the gist of it and it only took you a minute or so to get in sync with the other men rowing. You laughed softly to yourself before starting to feel the burn in your arms. This was a workout, but judging by the men near you and their large arms this was something they were used to. A few of the men near you let out little snickers and chuckles, shaking their heads. They hadn’t expected such a prim and proper lady to do such a thing. You on the other hand, found things like this interesting and wanted to try it all. 

It did not last long however until you felt a strong hand wrapping around your upper arm and dragging you up, causing you to drop the oar and gasp slightly. Bakugou was barking angrily at the man that had gotten up from his position while gripping tightly on your arm. You couldn’t understand what he was saying but he sounded angry and you instantly regretted your decision. “It is my fault.. not his.” You managed to get out, your own hand touching Bakugou’s arm.  “Quiet you, you are meant to sit here until we get back.” Bakugou growled as he looked down at you, almost snarling as he deposited you back to where you had originally been seated. You grumbled for a few moments, looking up at Bakugou with narrowed eyes, obviously upset that he had pulled you away from your task. 

The two of you were sharing a very long, intense stare. A few of the men around you admired your braveness and said as much, not that you could understand what they were saying to begin with. Soon a spray of ocean water broke your gaze as it came crashing right next to you and you had to move to get out of it’s way. “You sit here, and do not say anything the rest of the way.” Bakugou grumbled as he moved you to a spot where there wasn’t too much spray and threw another fur over you. 

His mood was hard to understand, he could be somewhat kind as you’d witnessed before, but he was also surly and rude. To be married to someone like that for the rest of your life, always having to guess at what emotion he had and walking on eggshells. That was not something that you wanted to deal with, however you didn’t have much choice in the matter. Running away? Well you were in the middle of the ocean and once you got back to land your odds weren’t much better. In a foreign land where you didn’t speak the language? Yeah that wouldn’t be good. So at this point you were stuck, with no much choice other than to marry a man you didn’t know or love. 

It was a day or so later that seagulls were seen flying above and you saw the men getting excited, so you figured that you must be getting closer to home. Well their home, your new prison. Moments later a small town came into view, huts and longhouses, docks and a beautiful beach. You stayed put where you were however, instead of going to get a closer look. You really didn’t want to anger your future any further. 

Soon the men were docking, women waiting with children at the docks smiling happily and waving at what you presumed were their husbands. They were all so happy to see their families some jumped off the boats before they were properly docked and unloaded. You wondered what it was like, to have such a family. You figured you’d never know. Your parents weren’t exactly the loving type, always more concerned with their country and duty. You smiled at watching them reunite, happy for them. Children climbed on their fathers shoulders, heavily pregnant women eagerly hugged their husbands. 

You were roughly pulled from your seated position, a calloused hand gripping your upper arm tightly and hauling you towards the docks. You did your best to fall into step beside him, tripping over your own feet as his pace was quick. “Keep up.” He grumbled as he looked back angerly at you before stopping once they had got to the red head you often saw Bakugou hanging around with. He was huddled close to a beautiful, bubbly woman holding a a newborn baby wrapped in furs. The two were cooing over the little thing before Bakugou walked over to them.  “Look at how beautiful she is, you really outdid yourself Mina.” 

“Well you had a hand in it as well you know.”  You heard the woman giggle but you had no idea what they were saying so you just stayed put, catching your breath from that walk. Bakugou stayed put, looking down at the baby and you could have sworn you saw a light smile gracing his lips. However whatever was there was gone just as quick.  “She is beautiful.” Bakugou agreed and looked at the two. “Congratulations. A new child is a wonderful thing.” “Who is she?” Mina asked, peeking around Kirishima to get a better look at the woman Bakugou was holding onto so tightly.  “Oh don’t worry about her, I’ll explain later.” Kirishima whispered to her before Bakugou drug her along and she stumbled to keep up. You didn’t dare speak up, not wanting to be embarrassed in front of people you didn’t know. It took a bit but soon you made it to a very big long house where many people seemed to be convening and all were smiling at Bakugou, saying words that you didn’t understand and clapping him on the back. You were sure they were all congratulating and thanking him for a raid well done. You got many curious looks as well, however Bakugou didn’t divulge that information to anyway.  There was a large feast prepared, everyone sat in the great hall laughing and feasting. You were set next to Bakugou, picking at your food because you were just too nervous to do much else. Of course you felt out of place, you didn’t understand any of the conversations going on and the only person who you could speak to seemed much more interested in other things. However a bit after this feast started Bakugou stood up and everyone silenced, even the children were quiet in the presence of their earl.  “We are gathered here to celebrate our great raid!” Bakugou yelled out into the crowd, even if it was quiet he felt the need for such celebration. Everyone yelled out, taking drinks and laughing amongst themselves. “We had a very succesful raid and we shall make it through the winter, if not longer! We did strike a deal with the King of Wessexs. He offered us riches and land in exchange for our army should he need it. We also have his daughter, who I am to marry.” He didn’t say the last part quite happily but it was what it was. He was to marry this girl and that was that. “Now weather or not we uphold our part of the deal is to remain seen. After all if he is going to drag us into a lengthy and pointless war we will not participate, and deal with those repercussions later.” At that the men laughed. “Now eat, drink, celebrate our return and our new riches!” 

You hadn’t understood anything that he’d said but you assumed that it had something to do with being back and some kind of pep talk you were sure. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. Although while the men and women drank, celebrated and got a touch too feely with each other than you were used to you awkwardly sat and watched the festivities. Children running and playing, wives draping themselves over their husbands and some doing everything they could to welcome them back, men sitting around and talking with each other. Your husband to be was doing just that, drinking and talking with a few of the other men you’d seen him around often. 

You felt out of place some eyes staring at you and definitely giving you the cold shoulder. You were an outsider, a stranger to their otherwise seemingly close knit unit. Even those who seemed to be servants ignored and moved around you. It had been a very long journey and an even longer night. You felt yourself falling asleep sitting up, while you had no idea where you are supposed to sleep. “Get up.” A gruff voice next to you grumbled and gripped your arm, hauling you up from your seated position. Your eyes opened as you stood and looked up at Bakugou. “You can’t fall asleep at the table. Come.” He commanded as he made his way towards a curtained off area. Once you got past the curtains there was an area with a bed, trunks, spare furs and treasures you hadn’t ever seen before. “You’ll stay here with me, in the bed.” Your eyes went wide at that, having never shared a bed with a man before. However you supposed that this man was going to be your husband.  You nodded before looking around the room and noticing that your one trunk wasn’t here, “Your things are not here... you can sleep in this.” Bakugou threw one of his tunics at you, and while it would be big on you it certainly wasn’t what you were used to and you’d be showing more than you were comfortable with. “I’ll turn around.” He rolled his eyes, grumbling and turning around. 

“Thank you.” You whispered, although you knew that he would see it all soon enough you were grateful that he would at least give you this until that day came. 

Days came and went, and most of them would have been spent alone had Bakugou not been so generous as to allow one of his men to escourt you around, it helped that he was also fluent in your language. He had joined the Vikings on one of their raids last summer and while some of the men still didn’t trust him he was loyal to them. His name was Shoto Todoroki and he was quiet but kind. He would translate conversations for you, although most of them held no interest for you however some did involve you and most of the women around were upset that you were taking Bakugou. However you weren’t exactly taking him, you’d been forced into this marriage just as much as he had. You also didn’t think that he’d been too interested in the women either. 

No one wanted to speak to you, and it was lonely although you did have Shoto but there were times that he had other things to do and you didn’t want him to have to hang out with you all day. He was sweet and kind however and much more of a conversationalist than Bakugou. You would get occasional grunts and commands when you were together but that wasn’t often. He was always busy and kept you under watch whenever he was gone. 

A week had gone by since you’d been in the Viking lands and it was time for your wedding. It had been planned quickly and all the traditions were so different from your own. The wedding was on a Friday, because it was Friggas day and she was the Goddess of marriage, love and fertility according to Shoto. You’d bathed in a bath house with Bakugous mother, Mitsuki, to wash away your status as a Maidan. It was usually done with married women of your family however none of your family was here so different arrangements were made. You quite liked Bakugous mother, she was not quite as brash and rude as her son but you saw where he got his personality from. 

After your bath your hair was braided and ornaments were placed in it, another tradition you were not familiar with. You were dressed in a blue gown that had been made specifically for this wedding, it was simple as you’d been told your hair was more important than the actual dress. You’d picked up on a few words here and there, as well as Shoto had been teaching you some things. Especially what to say during the wedding, which was something you’d been nervous of. 

Once the actual wedding started you were feeling nervous, walking down that long way towards Bakugous back, seeing him wearing his best furs and clothes. During the ceremony you did your best to pay attention, although you didn’t understand everything and just went along with what was happening. Exchanging rings, swords-which was strange for you-and a very chaste, first, kiss. Bakugou looked indifferent the entire time, and you felt much the same. You hadn’t gotten to know him since you’d been here, he was always off working with his people or solving their problems. 

There was a large feast held afterwards with plenty of mead flowing and while you hadn’t ever tried the stuff before you decided why not, after all you had no idea what was to become of your wedding night but you had a feeling Bakugou was going to expect something. Where you came from no one spoke of it, however a few cheeky maids had let you in on the secret of losing your maidenhood. You were nervous but figured some liquid courage could help. You sputtered and choked at first, to which your now husband laughed at you for. “Didn’t expect you to want to drink.” He laughed, the mead loosening his tongue a bit. It was the most that he’d spoken to you in days.  “If I am supposed to be your wife maybe I should act like a Viking.” That got another laugh out of your husband who shook his head. This feast was quite a bit like allthe others every night but this one was bigger than the rest and there was much more alcohol flowing through it. 

The night dragged on and soon enough you found yourself in Bakugous large bed, naked and surrounded by furs. He could tell you were nervous and so he took his time. Working you up, only to have you crashing down with such a force that you couldn’t explain. The maids might have told you about losing your maidenhood however they hadn’t spoke to it feeling like this. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore he proved you wrong. You didn’t think that it could feel like this, nor did you think Bakugou could be so gentle and nice. At the end of it you could hardly keep your eyes open and Bakugou cleaned you up and dressed you, covering you up with furs. He might not have wanted this marriage but he wasn’t going to be the biggest asshole in the world. At least not tonight. 

A/N: I did my best to add in viking wedding traditions although it was a little hard because a lot of them involved thins with family and obviously reader does not have family here! Yes I decided to put Kirishima and Mina together, idk why it just seems like a good pairing to me and I’ve seen it in quite a few fics as well! Mina is also a warrior but she stayed behind because she was still pregnant at the time of the raid starting. Also when things are in italics that is when they are speaking the Viking language. Also I am not adding smut in because I can’t control if a minor is going to read this or not plus I am not good at writing it anyway haha. This got a little dry and boring in the middle, I apologize but The next part will start to get a little more angsty and juicy so I hope you’re ready!!

TagList

naiomiwinchester  wannabe99now  @whore-for-anime  moshi-moshi-angie015  ojfugk  angie-1306

[yandere-wishes]

A Story Told In Maybes  {Part #1}

🗡️Yandere! Enma Yuuken x reader

🗡️Summary: Enma Yuuken lives on the fine line between "Hero" and "Villain" but his story will never end in a "happily ever after" or a "tragically ever after" it will only end in Maybe...

🗡 Edited by the amazing @tealyjade-libran

🗡️ Alternative title: How many times can Genie use "Damn" in a story...

Maybe in some other world, they could have been lovers

Imagine that...

picture it as vividly as a fresh stab wound to your heart. Sketch the vision of a red waterfall carrying away your life. 

Now picture two people. A young man and woman, sitting on a park bench, holding hands and laughing, inching closer and closer. 

Imagine love, happiness, tranquility...

But those things only exist in fairy tales. And his life was most certainly not a fairy tale. 

They were foreigners, outsiders, aliens. Banished into a strange land were twisted fairy tales, roamed the earth. Where magic and mischief came as naturally to the inhabitants as breathing. Where nothing mattered, because nothing was. Everything is and thus it isn't. Nothing made sense, and sometimes, in some rare moments of stolen repose, Enma Yuuken was scared that nothing would ever make sense again. 

All of it, every microscopic thing about this 'new world' was wrong, abnormal, twisted. 

Everything except his traveling companion. Another lost soul as disjointed and out of place as he was. Another ghost trying to survive in this matrix of a so-called reality. 

There was no shock initially, no surprise in not being the only normal creature to be transported to this bizarre world. Enma knew full well that he wasn't special in any way. Another foreigner being here was one of the few things that actually made sense. 

But as the old expression goes, everything comes at a price. 

Someone else just like him being here, being stuck in this nightmare, made sense. Yet the price of logic was a thread of hysteria that had woven itself deep within his battered heart. A maddening sense that gripped his lungs, robbing them of breath. That picked off pieces from his tattered mind, replacing them with clear cutout thoughts of her. It was always only her.

His companion in this broken world just had to be you. A frail, naïve little girl with no sense about her. Some pretty-girl protagonist straight out of the pages of Shojo Beats. The kind of girl who finds her happily ever after no matter where the hell she is. 

Yet he did not have that luxury, his life was dictated by a series of maybes and could bes. He was a secondary character at best, a background shadow at worst. With no purpose other than smiling and waving. And listening to the protagonist weep about their love-driven woes.

Some days, when the dreary bell chimed for the last time, when the students marched back to the solitude of their dorms, Enma would wander around the halls, squirming in his own misery. Pondering why, oh why of all the people, in all the towns, in all the worlds, did you have to be the one to wind up in this grim land along with him. 

Why fate always had to be so cruel, so domineering, thinking it knew better than the people whose miserable lives it toyed with. He wanted to be your lover, your prince, yours. But what would a guy, who doesn’t even belong in this backward world, have to offer some heroine-type sweetheart? 

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

The Ramshackle’s flickering porch light glows in the distance. Like a dying star beckoning him to a destroyed paradise. He knows what's waiting for him behind the worn door. He knows you'll be there standing by the cracked dinner table, laying out days-old sandwiches for dinner, while Grimm rangles with an expired can of tuna. He knows you'll smile with tears in your doe-like eyes as you retell the fables of your endeavors. Telling him in great detail how the so-called king of beasts overpowered you in the school garden. How the King of poisons stole yet another kiss. The tales go on and on. Never-ending, never stopping, never giving him the chance to scavenge the fragments of his shattered heart.

You play your role so damn well. You know how to be the damsel in distress, the poor thing in need of saving. It's repulsive, disgusting...but only because he doesn't know how to be the hero that you need. 

If he was being honest -something he rarely did nowadays- Those "prefects" were the root of all his problems. They were the evil that made this dark world an endless horror. They'd been the ones to drive him into the "caring older brother" role. They had twisted his hand, leading him to the role of the "side-hero" like a lamb to the slaughter. Made him into a prince charming in a world that ate princes alive and spat them out once more. 

They had sealed his fate with a few insults and loaded threats. With just a few longing stares overflowing with lust and envy. They were villains, in a world that celebrated sinners. A world that cheered when the dragon steals the princess and rejoices when the evil king sits upon his skeleton throne. They were villains in every dreadful sense of the damn word. 

It's hard to be in love when all odds are against you. 

When your fate binds you into one role with no way out.

Like a rabbit hole made of quicksand. It dragged him deeper and deeper into intimate madness.

Maybe in some fair world, those leeching villains could keep their greedy blood-drenched hands off of you.

Maybe in a world where the sun never dies, you could bring yourself to love him.

Maybe he could have been the love interest, maybe, maybe, maybe.

It's always only MAYBE!

🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️🗡️

"Welcome home Nii-san," 

It's a sweet greeting that ties his guts into ribbons. His hands grow damp as his heavy eyes stare into yours. His lips curl into a painted smile, shielding you from the pain that's clawing in his stomach.

"Hi..(Y/n)"

His voice cracks and croaks like a dying frog. His lips feel abnormally dry and his eyes sting as if they've been pierced by diamond daggers. His steps are heavy as he plops down in his seat. The weight of his worries pulled him down harder than gravity ever could. He watches you through tried, restless orbs. Watches as you waltz over to your seat and sit down with the half grace of some future queen to be. It's bitter, dreadful, leaving a sickly toxin-like taste in his mouth. The mere thought that someday one of those, sinners, will take your hand and drag you to some kingdom far far away makes Enma want to claw his brain out with his bare nails. 

Enma's focus shifts over from his traveling companion to the silver-coated fireball licking his paws. Grimm's teal eyes scan him nervously before he offers a nervous smile, a rarity for the narcissistic cat. He's usually so talkative, so boasting, there was never a moment of tranquility with that cat around...

It takes a moment. A steel coated moment before the gears in Enma's head begin to turn. Before he can place his finger on the heavy abnormality weighing down the atmosphere. His nerves jolt to life, leaving a freezing sweat behind their trail. The room is spinning like a ballroom floor. Something's off, something big and obvious and hidden and...

Maybe...

"So..."

It's your sweet voice that breaks the tension creeping into the air. Melodic and luscious just like the sensation of a blissful dream. The room freezes in its tracks. The heavy atmosphere melts away like a cube of ice. Normality has one foot through the door. Behind it, hope and tranquility peek their heads through the tiny gap.

 Maybe just maybe everything is alright. Maybe it's just him, his stress and anxiety are starting to play cruel jokes on his wonder mind. Maybe he's just going mad. Yeah, that's the sanest conclusion to draw from all this. 

Enma cranes his neck to the side to get a better view of your face. Distress is scribbled all over your skin, like pristine razor cuts. You shift around in your seat, clawing at your uniform skirt as if the midnight black fabric is cutting off your circulation. Your fingers nudge the entrance to your pocket fiddling with something he can't quite make out. 

His voice is low, shaky, as he replies. The unusualness of the situation has him on edge. Nervous to the bitter bone. Maybe he was wrong, maybe his nerves were right to be wary of whatever this was. This uncertainty permeated the air-tight room. 

"What is it?" 

Slowly you drag out a white envelope flooded seven times over from your pocket. You stretch out your hand placing it in between his fingers. Enma throws a passive look at the note, his nose wrinkled up at the familiar scent that pervaded from the paper. 

"What's this?" 

It was rhetorical, asked out of dull, morbid courtesy. This time he didn't bother looking at you, in fear of seeing you look -lord forbids- gleeful. 

"A love letter, Grimm found it in our locker after class." 

There was a pause, lengthy, nerve-wracking, heart wrenching. Yuuken could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat, he could almost feel the excitement radiate off your body. 

"Can you believe it Nii-san? Someone actually left me a love letter!"

It hurt it really did, this time his heart didn't shatter. It simply broke, in two or three or maybe four. Who knows, who cares.  They had escalated from simple harassment and unsightly displays of public affection to leaving you love letters. How ungodly, how absurd, how brave...

He laments, eyes tracing over the fog of his breath as it wafts through the musty room. He wants to rip that damned piece of paper, shred it into millions so the words become ineligible, so you'll never read those horrible words again. So you'll forget that some damn fool other than him can actually love you. But he doesn't, he has too much self restraint and too much respect for his dear "little sister" to actually do it. 

His arm stretches over the table, skin illuminated by the dying candle on the center. He places the letter back safely in between your fingers. His eyes meet yours for only the second time that night. He takes in your face, Committing every piece of it to his miserable memory. The heartily glow in your crystal eyes, the faint schoolgirl smile dancing across your lips, the rose blush kissing your cheeks, the way the candle illuminates your skin, wrapping in a sparkling glow like the princess from those tales of old. You're mesmerizing in every way, it would be reasonable for other men to notice your elegance. No wonder those "prefects" were drawn to you so naturally like moths to a golden flame. 

"Who sent it?" 

His voice comes out like a block of ice, shielding away any and all his stray emotions. He doesn't want to know how doleful he is, he just can't have you taking pity on him. 

Your smile fades ever so slightly, your brows draw closer. Confusion is etched on your face. You haven't got a clue. 

"Well...I'm not sure, but they did say to meet them at the school gates when the clock chimes twelve."

Oh, joy, another fairy tale reference. It's comedic how fairy tales have begun to dictate his life. Everywhere he turns there's a grim tale awaiting him. Yuuken spares a quick glance at the crooked clock hanging by a loose thread. It’s a minute to midnight. 

"I should come with you" 

It's not a request but you take it as so. 

"No need to bother, I'll take Grimm, he could use the walk. He's starting to bulk up a bit"

"HEY! The great Grimm-Sama doesn't "Bulk up" He only gets more powerful!" 

Before the older male can protest, you're already halfway out the door. Grimm scurrying to follow you on all fours like a pesky rat. The door slams on your way out, leaving Yuuken alone with his morbid screeching thoughts. 

There goes the only good thing in his life. Into the arms of another. 

For a second he contemplates leaving you to fate, after all, who's he to disobey fate, go against whoever orchestrates this universe. But it's only a second, short lived and quickly died. 

Maybe he's a hero.

Maybe he's a Prince Charming.

Maybe he's a villain.

Maybe he's just some honorary older brother looking out for his kid sister.

Maybe, just maybe, he's your future lover;

and he'll be damned if he lets you slip out of hands. 

Enma's quick to grab his old practice blade from the overstuffed closet. It's not much, but it's all he has from the normal world, from his world. 

The door grates for the last time that night as he steps out into the cold midnight air. The stars blink in some sort of secret tongue, either warning him or encouraging him, he doesn't know. Nor does he truly care, for Enma Yuuken is done letting life and fate and villains decree his meaningless life. Here and now that's where he'll make his stand, he'll save you. Kiss you. Love you. Marry you. You, You, YOU

But there's still one nagging thought that screams inside his head as he dashes for the school gates. This world worships villains, prays at their feet, and hands them death and destruction on golden plates. And he's no villains, he's some sort of upside-down, in-between. Rotting alone in the border between Hero and Villain. By law of society, he's a reject, a useless foreigner, an alien, an outsider. 

and MAYBE he's already too late...

Who wrote the love letter? Was it the head of the savanaclaw dorm or maybe the head of the heartslabyul dorm ? Maybe it’s the ever mysterious  Tsunotarou... 

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (cinq)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural creature au

yandere bts x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, physical assault, graphic descriptions of violence, manipulation, (slight) gaslighting

you were left, abandoned by mortals and immortals alike. darkness knows no bounds, and neither does punishment. there is no refuge in neither blood nor flesh from its wrath. if darkness welcomes you, should you open your arms to it in return? if darkness turns you away, does that mean you’ve won? should you choose to cast aside this lonely path of yours, and your conviction along with it, regardless of whatever other horrors lie in wait, you will be saved. 

——————————————————————

What is one to do when they hear the words they’ve feared the most leave someone else’s mouth?

The moment they graced Jin’s eardrums, he gripped his phone so tightly he could hear the glass screen crack. 

He and Yoongi had been assisting their father in the woods with preparations for the next meeting, the ominous hour approaching in no less than ten days.

He ignored Moonsik and Yoongi for a moment to answer his phone. 

“Hello?”

He could barely make out any of Jimin’s words--the boy’s blubbering masked too much of the information.

“Robotics...bathroom...”

“Jimin, I can’t hear anything over the sound of you crying. What’s going on?”

“(Y/N)...rooftop...Aemilia...”

“What are you trying to say?” Yoongi stopped talking to the older man, shifting his gaze toward his elder brother as he noticed Jin’s voice raise in irritation and concern.

“Blood...”

“Blood?!”

——————————————————————

Jimin had walked out of robotics a little early today, bored to tears.

He had felt much better after getting rid of the idiotic gaggle that dared to threaten you, and threaten him into abandoning you.

He should have known it wouldn’t be enough. He should’ve never left your side, he thought as he kneeled on the rooftop, staring forlornly at the pool of partially dried blood on the concrete.

“She was bleeding, hyung. Aemilia or her people must have taken her, but I have no idea where they went.”

Namjoon had been in the middle of a meeting with the school board, representing the student council.

Hoseok had been in the dance studio, barking orders out at somewhat competent underclassmen.

Jungkook and Taehyung were holed up in the younger’s room, playing games rather than doing any actual work.

In short, none of them were prepared. None of them had been there for you as they had promised.

You trusted them when you needed them most, and they left you high and dry.

Jimin felt like he would never be able to get the disappointment and guilt off of his chest.

——————————————————————

Namjoon bounded into the clearing, his usually polished exterior uncharacteristically tarnished. 

Hoseok appeared not long after him, having raced to the woods the moment he received the news.

They were met by Seokjin and Yoongi, who stood with their arms crossed over their chests, near a miserable Jungkook and a pacing Taehyung. Both boys had been in the house, so they were the first to arrive.

Jimin got there last, his hands and uniform pants stained red from the puddle he had kneeled in on the rooftop.

Six pairs of eyes landed on him and his appearance, confirming the worst.

“Three!” Seokjin cried incredulously. “Three of you were on campus, surrounded by a bunch of humans, and not a single one of you managed to keep an eye on her!”

“She could be anywhere,” Jungkook groaned in fear. 

“By all means, please don’t start caring now. It’s too late.” Yoongi snapped at him. “You and Taehyung drove straight home to do absolutely nothing. You could at least have offered her a ride home and ensured that she was safe. You’re just as responsible as they are.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew glassy, but only because he knew his brother was right. 

“As much as you enjoy playing the blame game, we have more pressing matters to address.” Namjoon interjected in an attempt to calm them down.

“That doesn’t even begin to cover it, Namjoon.” Seokjin’s icy tone sent a chill down their backs. “If we really wanted to play the blame game, we would have recognized how this is all your fault.”

The leader stood in tense silence.

“What did I tell you mere hours before this happened?” He continued, walking toward Namjoon until they were face to face. “I told you to get your shit together and to keep that girl in line. Hell, none of this would have happened if we hadn’t followed your idiotic plan in the first place.”

Seokjin was rarely ever angry enough to hiss in his brother’s face. They had all learned a long time ago that to provoke the oldest was to invoke Death.

“We all agreed his plan was the best choice at the time, hyung.” Yoongi cautiously approached the two and lay a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder, leveling a glare of his own at Namjoon. “We can deal with him later. We need to find her first.”

Jimin took the opportunity to step further into the clearing and brandished his phone, the device still open to his messages. “(Y/N) texted me saying Aemilia invited her up to roof and that she assumed it was for a confrontation of some sort.” 

“Aemilia doesn’t have the ability or strength to do damage like that by herself, though.” Taehyung frowned as he gestured to Jimin’s clothes. “Unless...”

The brothers looked at each other in realization and one by one, rushed out the clearing and out the forest. 

A quick drive to the center of the city and one pitifully short interrogation later, their suspicions were settled.

Hoseok growled as he re-entered the van, slamming the car door shut. “How dare he? When did he gain the courage to mobilize our own forces without our knowledge?”

“Never mind Augustus,” Jimin said, although his eyes blazed with anger. “Where would they take her?”

“That dog wouldn’t have taken her to the normal base, she has far too much malicious intent for (Y/N).” Taehyung growled.

Jungkook lightly tapped his fingers on the car door, looking out the window when the thought hit him.

“You don’t think they’d take her to...?”

His brothers looked at him in confusion, but he pointed out the window at the tree line of the woods. 

Having grown up in those woods, they knew it like the back of their hand. 

They knew the places were young townspeople would go to goof off, the places they had claimed for themselves, and the places that were...strictly off-limits.

It didn’t take much longer for the realization to set in.

Once it had, they took off in the direction of the forest.

——————————————————————

In your dream, you once again stood before Ichabod Chapel.

The Chapel, adorned with green vines, had long since been abandoned. Once, the walls must have been a beautiful ivory, but now they were a dark beige, having rotted with time.

A complete opposite to the image of the decrepit church, the seven Kim brothers stood on the ground in front of the entrance, visions dressed in various black silks.

Contrary to its original purpose, the material looked anything but light and airy--in fact, it looked as though it was weighed down or soaked, doused in some unknown substance.

You looked down to see that you were dressed in a white, ceremonial outfit. It billowed out like a ball gown, the sleeves drawing lacy patterns swirling up to your thumb. 

When you looked up, you were stunned by the brilliant, black wings that extended from the backs of the seven men before you. 

The sight of their wings enraptured you, those gorgeous appendages, feathers glossy under the moonlight.

Each of them had their own, unique set, varying in shapes and sizes, though the largest pair of wings belonged to none other than Kim Namjoon, who stood in the center of his brothers, hands in his pocket as he flashed you a familiar, mischievous grin.

Namjoon was the first to step out of the line, casually extending his hand out to you, and you hesitantly raised a dainty, (s/c) hand in return, placing it in his.

He pulled you into his arms and you felt him wrap them around you.

His brothers came to circle around the two of you, eventually joining the hug as well. 

Then, the whispers began.

Their tone was loving, though their words were anything but.

They were desperate, consuming, obsessive, threatening. 

They wanted you to love them, they needed you to love them, why couldn’t you understand? 

Your head pounded, filled to the brim with cruel promises of tenderness and affection.

The substance from their silks seeped into your clothes, rapidly staining your white outfit red.

You realized just what it was that they were doused in and tried to pull away from their arms but they surrounded you, locking you into their hold. 

The harder you fought to get out, the tighter they held on to you until you felt as though you couldn’t breathe.

Things were better this way. There’s nothing they wouldn’t do to protect you.  There’s nothing they wouldn’t do for your love.

How could you scorn their love for you? How could you treat them like this?

 They didn’t want to hurt anyone you cared about. They didn’t want to eliminate everyone you love in order to bring you to their side, but they would if they had to. 

They paid no mind to the way you were drowning in the smell of it, drowning in blood. Was it yours or someone else’s? Was it your mother’s? Mana’s?

All you knew was that they were done playing games.

——————————————————————

Your eyes flashed open and you winced as you immediately wished they hadn’t.

Your head pounded, each thump forcing your eyes shut with the intensity, still not having recovered from the several hits it received. 

For a moment it felt as though you were still unconscious and drenched in darkness, as when you tried to get a glimpse of your surroundings, you only saw shadows and moving, ambiguous shapes. 

The movement of the ground beneath you, however, quickly dispelled such thoughts. 

It appeared as though you were being carried over someone’s shoulder. Despite the extra weight, the person you currently rested on was light and quick on their feet, moving with a speed that made you feel worse than you already were.

The familiar crunching of leaves and branches on the ground made your heart beat just a bit harder. 

According to their footsteps and what you could see of your surroundings, you surmised they had taken you to the forest.

It had been mid afternoon when Aemilia and the people who worked for her and her family accosted you at the roof. Now, there was barely a hint of the moon in your surroundings.

Did she intend to have her people tie you up to the wooden pyre and set you aflame, like some sick imitation of a witch burning at the stake? Or to make it seem as though the Kims had done it?

Despite how afraid of Mayor Kim the citizens were, there was no way everyone would believe you died in such a gaudy display. 

Only the purple fire that Mayor Kim was capable of conjuring left nothing behind, after all. If they were to going to get rid of you by fire, your remains would be found.

There’s no way you could ensure that, however. 

There’s no guarantee that Aemilia wouldn’t be able to make good on her promise and utterly destroy you.

A light cough broke the silence, bringing you back to the present, and you tried to calm your heartbeat. There’s no way your captors would believe you were asleep if you kept scaring yourself like this.

You felt a tight, scratchy material around your wrists and your hands laying against your back.

You successfully clenched your hands. So they hadn’t drugged you while you were out. 

You were hesitant to shift, as you feared your captors would notice your cognizant state, so you resorted yourself to blinking at the ground and gritting your teeth from the pain and nausea. 

Thankfully, the people you were with appeared to be none the wiser. 

“Are we almost there?” A deep voice, seemingly annoyed, huffed.

“Be patient, Lee.” You felt the vibrations of the person carrying you as they replied. “This isn’t just any other job.” 

“I understand, but don’t you think Miss Augustus is going too far?”

Your captor scoffed. “If you want to question the Augustuses, thereby questioning the Kims and their authority, be my guest. I just hope you and your family will be able to deal with the consequences.”

The second captor, Lee, had nothing else to say after that. 

The quiet of the forest left a buzzing in your ears and the swinging sensation your body was making whilst strewn over the person’s back became too much to bear. 

You figured you’d just make your captor angrier if you barfed down their back and tried to shift to draw their attention, but it was too late. 

The acrid taste of bile and what you had for lunch earlier that day reached your mouth and your lifted your head, spitting out as much of it as you could.

There was a yell of anger and disgust, and your captor shoved you off of them and onto the forest floor. 

You held back a shout as you hit the ground, injuring your side even further, and let out the rest of your meal.

“What the-?! This disgusting bitch!”

Your captor launched another kick at your stomach and you fought back tears as they aggravated the wounds already in place. 

Lee stopped them after a while, complaining that another round of beating would just delay their job even further. 

You wiped your mouth off on your shoulder and grimaced.

To your surprise, you found that you could move your legs.

The first captor lifted you to your feet by your collar, and you recognized him as Mr. Byun, the man the strawberry blonde had referred to earlier. 

“Your legs still work for a reason,” he sneered and pushed you forward.

Your legs did indeed work, but were wobbly after hours of no use. 

You tripped and almost fell to the floor again, the bonds around your wrists preventing you from reaching out to break your fall, when the second captor grabbed you by the back of your shirt and held you up. 

“I’m not really in the mood for any of your foolishness, girl.” Lee glowered down at you. “Use your legs properly, or I’ll break them and drag you by the hair. It would be all too easy.”

You heard a suspicious click and your eyes flickered over to Byun, whose hand rested on his waist. In the other, however, he fiddled with a small lever on what appeared to be a firearm.

“Do you understand?” The second captor shook you and your brain protested, rattling around far too much for its liking. 

The thought of escape, which had been curling up inside you like the beginning of a fire, was quickly extinguished. You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded.

He pushed you away from him and you walked, following him with Byun at your back, trying to think of a way out of this situation.

You couldn’t tamper with the ropes around your wrist, as Byun was watching your every move. There was also the gun, and the fact that both men were trained in the use of it as well as martial arts.

Was there truly no way to escape?

——————————————————————

The three of you walked for what felt like hours, reaching a part of the woods that you had never seen before.

Here, the trees were sparse and had already lost all of their leaves. The dark branches coiled and twisted toward the sky, as if reaching for affection that would never be reciprocated. The stumps were old, the ground hard.

And then, a clearing. But not the one you were used to seeing.

Your heart dropped as you walked between two trees, noticing the view beyond them. 

You could now tell that it was well after midnight, for the sun was nowhere to be seen. Nevertheless, as always, the moon was high in the sky. 

Wylynne gazed down on the clearing with a force, as if the moon goddess wanted you to see bright and clear what awaited you.

The crumbling cliff before you overlooked a tranquil lake. Clouds hung in the distance, obscuring what was undoubtedly the outside world.

The outside of Ichabod.

Such tranquility had no business here, you thought to yourself as the pace of your breathing increased. 

Your captors had brought you to Lorne’s Ledge, also known as the edge of no return.

It was forbidden territory for any Ichabodian citizen.

Even before Mayor Kim came to town, even before the Augustus family had their reign: this was one of the oldest, most sacred spots in Ichabod.

The lady of the cliff, Lorne, saw to it that the forsaken never returned home.

You shuddered. The folklore didn’t scare you in the slightest. It would always be the work of man that you detested. 

Yet, you couldn’t help but feel some foreign, oppressive gaze resting on you now that you were here. As if Lorne herself were staring at you, waiting for you to join her in the watery depths--

That familiar click sounded again and your eyes shot to the side. You tried to slowly turn around, but the press of metal against your back forced you to stop all movement.

Lee smirked. “We have arrived at your final destination, my lady.”

“Miss Augustus was generous enough to leave you with two options. You can walk off and take a nice rest in the lake, or you can die before your body ever hits the water.” The man smiled mirthlessly down at you. “Which would you prefer?”

You blinked rapidly, mind racing. Even if you were capable of swimming, with these injuries, you wouldn’t be able to survive the fall off the ledge, 

They truly meant for you to die.

Lee didn’t seem to be in the mood for your deliberation as his cruel smile slipped into an infuriated frown. “Choose.” He growled. “My friend here would be all too happy to make the choice for you. How does a bullet in your brain and being rolled off the cliff sound?”

Byun dug the weapon into your skin and you winced, shaking your head. 

“I’ll-I’ll go. I’ll walk myself.”

Your voice cracked horribly after not speaking for so many hours, but the message was received. 

The metal was removed from your backside and you sighed in relief.

The man in front of you said nothing, simply stepping out of your path. 

You took a couple more breaths and slowly turned to face him. “C-Can I ask you to do something? As a final request.”

He raised an eyebrow at you in response.

You titled your head in the direction of your back. “Can you untie my hands? After I disappear, there might be a search for me, and someone might try to dig through the lake for my body. A suicide will be completely ruled out if they find the ropes.”

There was no way this would work. Even the Augustuses were too intimidated to bother touching the lake for fear of Lorne’s wrath. 

Besides, the police knew when and where to look, and where to say they looked. They would lie to your friends and family through their teeth.

Lee must not have been on the force for very long, however, because he grunted and pulled your hands to him. 

With a slice, the ropes fell to the ground and you clutched your wrists to your chest, nodding partly in thanks and partly in disbelief.

It...worked.

You rubbed your hands together and gently blew on them, fingers numb from the cold breeze. 

Your captors stood together between the trees, blocking the entrance. They murmured quietly to themselves and you continued to morph your face and body expressions into one of a pitiful teenager about to die, concealing the rather reckless thoughts you were having.

You finally turned around and walked back until you were in front of them, catching the two men off guard. They quieted and stared at you, hands at their weapons. 

You met each of them in the eye and bowed, lower than you ever had before, then stood upright.

They looked at you incredulously, giving you just enough time to give Lee a harsh kick between his legs and pry the knife out of his hand.

You slashed at his neck, adrenaline returning full force, and actually managed to cut the man. 

He shouted in pain and brought a hand up to the wound, trying to stop the blood.

Before you could turn to face Byun, however, the loud crack of a gunshot was heard throughout the forest and you felt a painful sting on your hand. 

You yelped as you dropped the knife.

Then, there was a second gunshot and the pain returned full force, this time on your shoulder.

The elder captor, completely fed up with your actions, slammed the gun against your head and you crumpled to the ground. 

You could feel something wet on your hand and clothes, but there was too much of it to be sweat in the midnight chill. You slowly lifted your hand, only to see it covered in a dark liquid.

Byun restrained Lee from attempting to beat you this time, barely casting a glance at your pitiful form. 

“Calm yourself. She won’t be alive for much longer.” He gruffed. “She said she would walk herself, so walk she will. We’re just here to watch and make sure it happens.”

He stood over your form and pointed the gun at your head. “What a useless attempt. Get up.”

Your shoulder and hand burned like hell, but you complied. 

You got to your feet once more and stumbled forward, every step taking you further and further away from the two. 

The barrel of the gun followed your every move.

The tears you’d been struggling to hold back ran full force now at the thought of your imminent death. But rather than let your captors feast upon the sight of your defeated form, you stopped.

You were covered in blood. Your uniform was sullied by your own vomit and dirt. 

But you straightened your back, ignoring the pain in your shoulder, and held your head up high. 

You had reached the edge of the cliff now, but your vision was too blurry to see anything besides the vast blue beneath you. 

The lake that rested below had no warmth or safety to provide for you, but neither did the forest behind you.

You considered praying to Wylynne to see if, in all her majesty and grace, she would save you.

Yet clearly, just like all the people who had come before you, just like the lady of the lake herself, the moon goddess had forsaken you.

You were tired. Too tired to fight against what some would call fate.

You whispered an apology to your mother and Mana, and perhaps even to the brothers, the reason why, you did not know.

Your eyes captured the overcast image of the outside world one last time, then you turned around and took a backward step off the cliff with a sad smile, eyes falling closed, mentally locked on that solitary picture.

Above you, you thought you heard the pained screams and grunts of your captors, sounding as though they were struggling against something or someone. 

But before you, you saw your mother with her arms outstretched, that patient, loving smile on her face. 

You reached forward, wrapped your arms around her, and readily slipped into darkness.

Above your falling form, a shadow zipped through the dawn, racing to reach you before you hit the water. 

He saw you smile and lift an arm into the air, before the smile slipped off your face and your limbs went limp.

The large, black wings at his back beat furiously and he flew faster than he ever had before until he had your beaten form cradled to his chest. 

The two of you suddenly shot upward into the air as your descent slowed, and as the first rays of daylight peeked out from above the clouds, his form hung in the air, almost frozen in time, black wings outstretched and supporting the two of you as he floated above Lorne’s Ledge. 

Kim Jimin hovered, adorned in the light of the early morning sun, peering callously down at the vermin who lay trembling between him and his brothers. 

Or what was left of them, at least.

Jungkook had managed to get his hands on the elder one, and the arm he had been using to carry the gun had been ripped clean off. 

He was now whimpering in excruciating pain, clutching at the place where his limb had once been.

The younger one, on the other hand, lay resting against a tree. 

Unmoving, his eyes unseeing. 

All it had taken was one touch from Hoseok, and the man’s life force was gone, sucked out of him before he could even protest.

He was now nothing more than a lifeless sack of meat.

Taehyung picked up the body as Yoongi kicked one of the elder’s legs to get his attention.

The others stood threateningly over Byun, glowering down at him in utter loathe, as though he were a louse.

The old man whimpered, looking up and between them, then paling in horror as he saw Taehyung and Jimin.

The younger brother walked toward the elder as Jimin gently touched down on the ground, your form still protectively pressed to him. The two Kims met eyes and nodded at each other.

Taehyung turned around and flashed Mr. Byun a crazed smile before flinging Lee’s body as far as he could over the cliff.

He gaped in horror and his voice rose multiple decibels, pleads for his life escaping before he could properly think them through.

Seokjin squatted down until he was at an eye level with him, strong, black wings threateningly displayed. He grinned. 

“If you think you have even any hope of escaping your friend’s fate,” he said as the smile slipped off his face, “you’re dead wrong.”

He glared at Byun with cold, amber irises. “But before we end your insignificant, paltry life, you’re going to tell us who sent you and why.”

They already had proof of Aemilia’s crime from Aloysius Augustus himself but they wanted to be sure.

He looked at the younger gentlemen with tears in his eyes. He fought through his pain and got on both knees.

“There’s no use in begging,” Namjoon stated, arms crossed over his chest. For the first time, he couldn’t find anything amusing in the matter.

“Please! We were only receiving orders, Miss Augustus--”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yoongi used Lee’s discarded knife and slashed it across Byun’s neck, silencing him in an instant. 

The light left his eyes and the man’s body flopped over.

Taehyung didn’t think twice about kicking him off the cliff, either.

Now that those pests were taken care of, the seven rushed to turn their attention on you. 

The bleeding from your shoulder and hand had not slowed in the slightest, and they could hardly feel your pulse.

“We need to get her to the hospital, and fast.” Hoseok said, swallowing the rising lump in his throat.

“I’m the fastest. I can take her there.” Taehyung volunteered.

The brothers agreed, and you were gently deposited into Taehyung’s arms. 

“When you’re sure she’s safe, meet us back here in the woods,” Yoongi said. “You’ll know where to find us.”

"Yes, hyung.” Taehyung spread his wings and took off into the sky.

He carefully cradled you, shifting your body into one of his arms, and attempted to heal some of your worse injuries along the way.

He pressed one hand to your abdomen and began muttering under his breath, a panicked tear slipping out the corner of his eye as he peered at the extent of the damage.

Once your ribs were mostly healed, he pulled his hand away, leaving behind a canvas of dark blue, yellow, and green bruises. He winced and moved on, pressing his hand to your head.

You made no movements, body as limp as ever in his arms. 

Taehyung touched down on the roof of the hospital and tucked those magnificent, black wings together, the appendages fading away as if they were never there. 

He held his arm out, his palm facing the door. He only meant to unlock it, but utterly destroyed it in his haste. Quite frankly, he couldn’t have cared less. 

He hurriedly walked down the stairwell and burst into the hospital’s eleventh floor lobby, reserved for VIP care and treatment. 

A receptionist was working at the front desk, typing away without a care in the world.

He was interrupted by Taehyung’s shouts. “I found her in the woods outside of our home this morning--she’s badly injured, please help!”

He looked up at the boy’s outburst, eyes widening when he realized just who and what he was looking at.

He immediately called for available nurses to bring a bed and admit you to a room, then paged any available doctors.

“Do you know who she is, Mr. Kim?” A nurse asked as she examined you for damage.

He nodded. “She’s a classmate of mine, her name is (Y/N) (L/N). Her mother also works here--please notify her of her daughter’s arrival.”

The man nodded once more, sending someone else to page Nurse (L/N) from the fifth floor.

As the nurses wheeled you away, Taehyung grabbed the receptionist by the wrist and he whipped around in fear.

“This patient is very important,” Taehyung stressed, squeezing the man’s wrist harshly. “She is being admitted under the protection of Kim Moonsik himself, at the behest of our entire family. If anything happens to her...”

The receptionist gulped and nodded. “Of course, Mr. Kim. You don’t need to explain any further. We’ll do our absolute best to ensure her care and recovery.”

Taehyung glared down at him for a bit longer before he threw the man’s wrist aside and turned away from him. 

He rubbed at his wrist, knowing it would bruise in a couple of hours, or perhaps even minutes.

The man returned to his desk, beginning to fill out the paperwork for your stay. 

When he looked up to ask Taehyung more questions about your injuries, the boy had already disappeared.

——————————————————————

In Taehyung’s absence, the six brothers stretched out their wings and flew to a certain section of the woods behind the Kim family home. 

This part of the woods remained untouched by both the Kim family and the general public. It was only the seven who came out here, and only in times of dire consequence. 

Several trees in the area had fallen over, cracked in half as though hit or pushed in anger with some spectacular force.

Leaves and branches strewn all over the ground were blown away by the boys and the sudden breeze they brought, large wings disrupting the peaceful quiet of the forest.

The early morning sun peeked through the leaves, painting a picturesque view of the woods, a sharp contrast to the heavy, violent atmosphere headed its way.

Jungkook planted his feet on the ground first, tucking away his wings until they were out of sight. He angrily flicked what was left of Byun off his face, disgusted by the thick feel and metallic smell of mortal blood. 

Jimin followed right behind him, then Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin entered, Namjoon being the last to touch down on the forest floor.

Jimin and Jungkook met eyes with one another, their anger not even close to subsiding at the death of your captors. 

Yet, soon enough, curiosity and dread brought them out of their rage when they realized just how quiet it had gotten between the older members.

Jimin shifted his gaze, the frown on his face deepening when he saw the eldest brothers’ attention turn to Namjoon, who was standing deathly still, staring blankly ahead.

Seokjin raised an eyebrow as he glared down at the younger. Namjoon refused to meet his gaze.

The six of them stayed like that for a long time, even when they heard the loud beating of another pair of wings, and Taehyung joined them in the forest.

He turned to Jimin in confusion but the older simply shook his head and grabbed for his and Jungkook’s hands, squeezing them. 

Finally, after what felt like hours of silence, Seokjin spoke. 

“There is no mercy for the prideful,” he stated with finality.

Namjoon flinched away at the words, eyes stuck to the ground.

“You weren’t able to uphold your oath, Namjoon ah,” Hoseok said. His words were concerned, but his tone reeked of condescension.

“And because of that, because of your utter failure, our beloved angel got hurt.” Yoongi hissed. “She almost died.”

Hoseok, Yoongi, and Seokjin took menacing steps toward the leader. 

He heard his older brothers walking up to him, but refused to meet the wrath that was surely boiling in their gaze.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook watched on with bated breath, their hands still linked together.

Namjoon was frozen in place. 

As the leader of their group, there was rarely ever a moment where he was seen as weak. 

But the second he had received news of your capture, he lost even the strength to stand on his own two feet.

It was the thought of you, of saving you and bringing you to safety, that had kept him going. 

It was the only thing that had kept all seven of them sane.

Now that they knew you were going to live, he knew he couldn’t avoid his punishment any longer.

Namjoon’s facial expression didn’t change, even in the moment where, with surprising speed, Yoongi lashed out at him, decking him in the face and knocking him to the forest floor.

The student body president winced, gingerly gripping his nose as blood started to leak from it.

His older brothers stood, looking down at him in a mock semicircle.

“Yoongi ah,” Seokjin said, turning to the younger, “what is the punishment for those who commit the deadly sin of pride?”

“Being broken on the wheel, hyung.” Yoongi replied impassively. 

“Fortunately for you, or unfortunately, I should say,” Hoseok grinned down at Namjoon, “we don’t have a wheel.”

Seokjin stepped forward and lifted his foot above Namjoon’s right leg. 

“This is what happens when you place too much pride in yourself and in your actions.” He stated, then brought his foot down on Namjoon’s right leg.

He didn’t let up until there was a sick, audible crack. 

Namjoon reeled back, grunting in pain but refusing to scream. 

Yes, it hurt, but he knew he deserved it. He failed (Y/N). 

This is the least he could do to atone for his actions.

“All things considered, we’re being quite generous with you.” Yoongi stepped up next, kicking his broken leg aside to stomp down on his left one.

This time, Namjoon let out a jarring scream. 

“You still have the audacity to scream? To feel pain?” Yoongi ground his foot into the injury as though he were trying to put out a cigarette. “Imagine how much pain our beloved is in right now. Imagine what she wouldn’t have had to go through, had you done your job properly. Had you listened to us.”

The elder had never been kind or considerate when it came to delivering punishment, a fact that the younger brothers had quickly become accustomed to.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook looked on blankly, but inside they felt a deep sense of pity. 

Namjoon was their brother and their leader, the constant face of their strength.

It hurt to see him in so much pain, no matter how necessary it was. 

Namjoon sat on the forest floor, both legs twisted at an awkward angle. He grit his teeth together as he tried to control his breathing. 

He noticed no one else was approaching him, but he knew that the punishment wasn’t over yet, not so soon. He slowly, inquisitively lifted his head.

The eldest three looked at Namjoon expectedly. He pleadingly raised his eyebrows, but their stares held no mercy.

He bowed his head in defeat. 

The senior wrapped his right hand around his left forearm and squeezed until he heard something crack. 

There was the quick, soft sound of a sob coming out of his mouth, and then all was quiet. 

Hoseok went last, shuffling through the leaves on the forest floor to squat next to his younger brother, wiping away some of his tears and gently running his fingers through his hair. “We’re doing this for her. Everything we do is for her, you know that as well as we do.”

Namjoon glanced at him warily, tense because he knew what was coming next, but didn’t know when to expect it. 

“That’s why you’re prepared to face the consequences for your actions, yes...?”

With a sickeningly sweet smile, Hoseok wrapped his hands around Namjoon’s right forearm, breaking the bone in a quick moment.

Namjoon clenched his teeth together so hard, he swore he heard something else crack. 

Any movement within the top or lower half of his body left him in excruciating pain, and he stifled a scream each time.

“You did so well, Joonie.” Hoseok continued patting his head. 

They surrounded him, praising him with how well he took his punishment. 

He was only able to withstand a few more minutes of cognizant thought before his eyes rolled back into his head.

Hoseok caught his younger brother, gently laying him back onto the dirt.

The six men stood in the silence, staring at the form of their treasured leader with pity. 

Seokjin turned around and met each of his younger brothers in the eye. He then wordlessly walked away from the clearing and Namjoon’s broken body.

Yoongi and Hoseok followed him, blank expressions on their face.

The youngest brothers were all too quick to pick up on the message. 

Overstep your boundaries, and endure the same fate. 

After taking one more look at Namjoon, the youngest brothers trekked out of the forest, silently following behind the other angels.

——————————————————————

When you finally pried your eyes open, you were greeted by an unfamiliar chill.

You were cold. So cold, the chill settled uncomfortably in your bones.

White blankets were tucked around you, pristine sheets morphing to mimic your form. 

For a moment, you incredulously thought that this must have been your arrival to heaven.

Then, you soon heard a monotonous beeping and you felt the subtle prick of wires along your skin, an IV casually grazing across the back of your hand. 

It hurt to move your right shoulder, and your abdomen ached, the areas bandaged so tight you could just barely feel them. 

There were bandages around your wrists and hand as well, and the pungent scent of ointment told you those were for your rope burns and bullet graze. 

Your head injuries were also wrapped, if you deduced the source of your current headache correctly. 

You were alive. Alive, and well taken care of.

“(Y/N)?”

You winced, your head not taking too kindly to the reintroduction of noise. A swivel to your right, however, and your mother’s worried face appeared.

“...Mom?” You voice cracked horribly, and she smiled and hummed in acknowledgement, lifting a water pitcher next to her and pouring you a glass of water.

You drank as if you were Tantalus himself.

“I was so worried.” your mother stated, her voice breaking right along with yours. The sound alone nearly brought tears to your eyes. 

She lifted her hands and grasped your uninjured one, intertwining your fingers.

 “I got paged yesterday morning and asked to come up to the eleventh floor, just to find out that you had been admitted.” Your mother spoke, answering your questions before you even got the chance to ask. “And at the request of the entire Kim family, no less. Kim Taehyung brought you in himself, claiming you’d been assaulted and found outside their door.”

You tilted your head, peering at your mother in disbelief. 

She met your gaze and flicked her eyes toward the door, then back towards you without turning around. You followed their direction.

Outside the small, rectangular window of the door, there stood a tall figure dressed in dark clothing.

Your mother leaned toward you and whispered. “That woman has been standing guard since the doctors finished their checkup.”

You gulped and nodded in understanding.

“(Y/N).” Her tone shifted slightly, still holding concern but taking a solemn turn. “I never ask you questions about how school is and your life is going. We usually leave each other to our own devices, and that’s clearly been a mistake on my part. But I need you to be completely honest with me here.”

“Have you displeased the Kims in any way?” Her grip on your uninjured hand tightened to the point where all of your knuckles turned white. “If they have you here under some sort of watch until the next meeting...if they’re trying to...” 

Your mother gulped, unable to finish the rest of the sentence. 

Her voice lowered into a harsh whisper. “Tell me. I’ll go alert a trustworthy coworker, and I will have you out of this town before Kim Moonsik can utter another prayer.”

Your eyes widened comically. “Mom, no! Nothing like that happened. They saved me. The Kims saved my life.” You repeated, gripping her hands. “If they hadn’t brought me here, I would have-” 

The weight of your words finally hit you, and before you could realize, tears gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I could have...”

You fought to speak through the trembling of your lower lip. “I’m sorry I never told you about my day, I just thought I’d be able to handle it all by myself. The police commissioner’s daughter, she was trying to get rid of me and she-Mom, she-”

Your mother cupped your cheeks as your tears cascaded down your face. She gently rubbed your lower back as you muffled your cries by burying your head into her neck.

She didn’t let you go for a while, even after you managed to collect yourself. 

She poured you another glass of water and you sipped at the beverage, telling her the trials you’d faced these past couple of weeks.

“I thought it was a regular instance of bullying,” you sniffled, putting the plastic cup down. “that she didn’t want me getting too close to her crush. So I endured because I had no intention of taking anything of hers away. Who am I, in Ichabod, compared to a woman of prestige like that?” You sarcastically asked.

“But apparently, my mere existence bothered her.” You shakily recounted what had ultimately been the most terrifying moments of your life to your mother. 

You obscured some parts of the story, not wanting your mother to worry even more, and claimed that the Augustus’ men had taken you to the clearing to scare you and beat you up, and that you surmised they dropped you off outside of the Kim home afterward. 

By the time she finished hearing the whole story, her grip had embedded itself into the edge of the hospital bed. 

Your mother’s vexation was interrupted by the sound of people speaking outside your door.

“Ma’am, I apologize. By the order of Kim Moonsik, only family members are allowed to visit the patient right now.” The figure outside your door spoke with an uninterested tone.

“With all due respect, officer, please don’t assume my gender.” You heard a familiar voice snipe. “My best friend is lying in there and she’s practically a sister to me. I don’t particularly give a damn about your order. Kim Moonsik can kiss my-”

“Mana!” You yelled, trying to catch both of their attention before your best friend could get themselves arrested. 

You flipped the hospital blankets off of you and your mother helped you to your feet, then to the door. The injuries on your abdomen and head protested with every step.

The guard’s eyes widened a bit as you slid the door open, and so did the eyes of every hospital staff within sight of your room. 

“Ms. (L/N), I implore you, please go back to bed to rest!” A nurse in the hallway rushed over. 

The guard hastily nodded in agreement. “Yes, please do. I sincerely apologize for the commotion.”

You waved them off, reaching a hand out to Mana. “I'll go back to bed, but only if you let Mana in. They’re family.”

Mana stood in the hallway, hurriedly dressed in sweatpants, a disheveled oversized hoodie, and sneakers, but gingerly holding a teddy bear with a card.

The guard looked between you, Mana, and the nurse for quite some time. The nurse’s frantic expression must have convinced her, though, because she finally stepped aside.

Mana extended their arm, gently grabbing your hand in return and waltzing past the security guard with a smug expression. 

The moment the three of you were back in the room, however, they ushered you back to bed as well.

“(N/N)!” Mana said, going to hug you, then rethinking it when they spotted all the bandages. 

They placed the teddy bear in your arms and stood a card that cheerily read “Get Well Soon!” on your nightstand. “How are you feeling? I’m so sorry--I should have been there with you!”

“My head and chest hurt, but I’m alright.” You shook your head with a small smile, clutching the doll to your chest. “Don’t apologize, you had no idea this was going to happen. This was all the result of my stupid decision--I was the one who fell into her trap.”

Your mother excused herself, leaving you and Mana alone for a few minutes.

You filled them in on what had happened to you, withholding no details, and their face lit up in anger. “She ordered them to take you to Lorne’s Ledge?! That psychotic cunt! Just wait until I drag her across the square, we’ll see how high and mighty she is then-”

“Mana, calm down.” You smiled, thankful for your friend’s protectiveness, but weary after everything you’d just gone through. 

“I never want to stoop to her level,” you admitted, wringing the sheets in your hands. 

Your mother gently slid open the door, returning with water and a tray of food for you.

“I think...I’ve had enough of mind games and tricks for a while.” You whispered, then smiled at her as she lay the meal in front of you.

Mana’s gaze turned soft, and they patted your hands and back in support. 

“I don’t even want to think of what would have happened if the Kims hadn’t gotten there in time.” your mother muttered. 

You nodded in agreement. 

You weren’t particularly sure how or why, but the Kims had saved your life. 

Not only had they offered you some of the best care in the city, free of charge, but they even stationed people outside your room.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, something told you that holding them with such a mindset would put you exactly where they wanted you to be. 

Yet something else countered that thought, claiming that it was that same distancing mindset that had pushed you into the arms of danger in the first place. 

Perhaps Mayor Kim felt responsible for it because his men got usurped by a high school girl.

Or, perhaps, it was his sons who felt even more responsible.

Your mother and Mana stayed with you the rest of the night, each taking up their own positions on the furniture. Mana draped themself on the couch while your mother took the armchair.

You allowed yourself to drift off to the sound of them breathing, the chill and fear of the previous morning now a distant, foreign thing.

——————————————————————

Your mother and Mana weren’t constantly at your side, as one had to attend to her duties at work and the other had to go to school. 

There were other individuals who were perfectly happy to waste the day with you, though.

On the first day, you were visited by Jimin.

The sophomore’s usual high-energy self was nowhere to be seen as he stepped into your hospital room holding a small bouquet of (your favorite flowers). 

Jimin rushed at you, barely giving himself enough time to greet him before he fell to his knees in front of your hospital bed. 

You gasped aloud in surprise and urged him to stand, but he would have none of it. 

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” His eyes glistened as water streaked down his cherubic face. “If I had read your message earlier, if I hadn’t been so stupid to turn my phone off, you never would have gotten hurt like this.”

You winced as you pulled yourself to the edge of the bed, your hand only hurting slightly less than it had before. “You didn’t know at the time, I wouldn’t blame you for that. When you did know, you rushed to help me. That’s something I will be forever grateful to you for.” 

You exhaled and smiled your rare, genuine smile, a warm countenance on your face that pierced Jimin’s soul. “So please,” you held your hand out to Jimin.

The boy looked up, pitiful expression morphing into a delighted smile. He gently took your hand and stood, then ushered you to rest comfortably back at the top of the bed. 

The two of you spent the rest of the day talking, Jimin distracting you from your current situation with stories about his family and their travels. 

By the time you realized you’d never gotten answers to your questions, the sun was starting to set and you were having trouble keeping your eyes open in the middle of Jimin’s conversation.

If the raven haired boy had noticed it, he didn’t say anything. 

If anything, he continued speaking, his voice low and chiming with laughter as he recounted precious memories.

When he heard the familiar sound of your soft, slow breathing, he stopped. He simply gazed upon your visage, smiling at the way your (s/c) skin lit up in the afternoon sun and held a hand up to block the light from getting in your eyes.

He stayed that way for the next several minutes, then gently caressed your cheek, letting his hands linger for shorter than he would have liked.

Once the night was well underway, Jimin collected his things and left your side with one more forlorn look.

He shot a strict gaze at the guard, who gulped and nodded at the unspoken order.

Finally, he turned and walked down the hallway toward the elevators. 

——————————————————————

On the second day, you were visited by Taehyung. You were still asleep when he first came into the room, but your mother was sitting beside you and her eyes widened when she saw him.

Before the younger boy could even speak, the older woman bowed low in gratitude.

Few people had ever seen your mother in a vulnerable state, you included, as she purposefully made it so. 

Taehyung was a rare exception that day as he gently gripped her shoulders, feeling the slight trembles that coursed through her as he straightened her posture. 

Suppressing an amused smile, Taehyung thought of the differences between you and his supposed mother. 

While the actress trembled out of fear for her own life, your mother shook at the thought of losing you.

As expected from the woman who raised you, their perfect treasure.

“I can never repay you for the hospitality you’ve shown my daughter,” your mother whispered.

“There’s no need for such matters, Ms. (L/N). We’ll always protect and watch out for your daughter. We’re honored to have her in our lives.” Taehyung replied with a sincere tone.

She accepted the flowers he brought, carefully laying the bouquet on your nightstand, right next to the vase where Jimin’s flowers lay. 

When you did wake up, you had your own chance to thank Taehyung for finding you and bringing you to safety, along with sponsoring your stay in the hospital. 

He waved away your thanks, claiming that he was simply glad that you had turned to Jimin for assistance so that they were able to know about it.

“You know we’ll always be there for you, right (Y/N)?”

Always.

“Just say the word and we’ll come running.”

We love you.

His heart ached with the weight of the words he couldn’t say.

But you smiled in appreciation and he melted, as it was the smile they had longed to see for so long. The one that you usually reserved for your mother or Mana, the one that they had only gotten glimpses of in the time that they had known you.

He wouldn’t let you do anything for yourself the entire time, claiming you needed to rest up and heal as soon as possible. You reluctantly agreed, enjoying an unusually lazy day.

He played music for you, and soon enough the two of you were lost in a passionate conversation about your favorite artists. Funnily enough, there were several of them who you shared interest in.

Before Taehyung returned home for the day, he insisted on covering you with the blanket as well, tucking it up to your neck and pressing it in at the sides.

Your eyes were closed out of embarrassment as his form hung over yours. 

He fought the urge to bend down and kiss your forehead, for he still feared that he could frighten you away.

Instead, he reached up and switched off the light directly above your bed. With an ambiguous smile, he left, closing the door behind him.

——————————————————————

On the third day, you were visited by Jungkook.

The atmosphere was a little awkward at first, considering how soft-spoken the freshman tended to be around you.

When you tried shifting the conversation by asking him about his personal interests and passions, however, his eyes lit up.

Jungkook demonstrated several different types of punches for you in the room, even helping you weakly set up your form with your still healing hands. 

You learned much more about boxing forms and gaming techniques that day than you could ever remember, but you did leave with plans to have private self-defense lessons with Jungkook after you’d finished healing.

At some point during his visit, you had drifted off and by the time you woke up again, Jungkook was already gone. 

You panicked slightly, worried that he’d be upset and think that you wanted him to leave. As you turned to your phone, however, you noticed a folded piece of paper resting on top of the back of it.

When you opened the paper, you saw a beautiful pen-and-ink sketch of you, lying in your hospital bed and napping. 

Jungkook had somehow taken your messy, disheveled state and turned it into something that evoked a tender feeling within you.

You grinned down at the paper, amazed by his talent. Was this how he saw you? As this...ephemeral, peaceful being?

You gently stood the paper up so that it rested between the two vases that housed Jimin and Taehyung’s flowers, right next to Mana’s card.

The afternoon soon gave way to evening, then evening to night.

——————————————————————

On the fourth day, Seokjin saved you from the monotony of bland, hospital food by bringing you home cooked meals. 

The mere smell of the dishes had your mouth watering. 

He refused to let you do anything yourself, much like Taehyung had the other day. But unlike Taehyung, Jin went so far as to feed you himself.

It was embarrassing, but no matter how much you protested, he wouldn’t let up.

He sat in the chair your mother usually preoccupied and held the utensils out to you, neatly making sure you finished your meals.

At one point, he pretended the food was an airplane and you playfully slapped his arm, resulting in him dissolving into a surprising windshield-wiper-like laugh. 

Jin spent the rest of the day with you, telling you awful jokes that under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have found that funny. 

His companionship was greatly appreciated, however, and you found that you grew surprisingly fond of his laugh.

Before Jin left for the evening, he gently lifted your hand and placed it in his lap, then revealed another bag he’d brought on his visit.

To your surprise, he clipped a small (silver/gold/rose gold) bracelet around your wrist. The ornament carried two charms: one of a well-detailed moon, the other a pair of angel wings.

You rushed to have him take the bracelet off, hesitant to accept such a valuable gift. 

Yet the look in his eyes pierced right through you, his previous joy still present and glimmering but hidden beneath the depths of something more sinister.

You leaned against your pillows as Jin gently lifted the back of your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to it, just like he had the first night you met. 

“The moment I saw it, I thought of you.” He smiled, affectionately rubbing his thumb over your wrist. “Keep it. For me?”

It wasn’t a request.

——————————————————————

On the fifth day, you were visited by Hoseok and Yoongi.

You were slightly surprised at the fact that they had come together, as their outer attitudes seemed to be opposites, but you found that they complemented each other very well. 

They were extremely considerate of you, allowing you to do things for yourself but offering their assistance should you need it. 

Hoseok spent the day cheering you up by performing routines for you in the little space the room provided.

As strict as he was infamous for being, Hoseok clearly knew his craft. You were mesmerized by his movements and insisted on clapping for each of his performances, your hand healing quite nicely now.

Yoongi delighted you with tales of his rambunctious actions in high school, and some of the best well-kept faculty secrets.

There were several things you learned about Ms. Divii and Mrs. Hargrove that day that you would have been perfectly happy not knowing for the rest of your life, but you giggled and gossiped all the same.

It appeared as though the elder Kim brothers had a similar thought process, as Hoseok and Yoongi each gifted you (silver/gold/rose gold) jewelry similar to what you had received the day prior.

Hoseok looked as though we was going to cry when you went to turn down his gift.

One sharp look from Yoongi later, you closed your mouth, smiled, and expressed your thanks.

Hoseok fondly clipped the necklace onto you, his heart performing somersaults as you leaned into his embrace. 

He silently gulped, overcome by the sudden desire to press his lips to your neck. 

When he made eye contact with Yoongi over your shoulder, his face reddened slightly as the elder smirked at him.

He reigned in the perceptible want in his eyes and leaned back, flashing you his signature smile. “There you are, angel. Pretty as a picture.”

You lowered your head to hide your flush. “You guys really don’t have to bring me these gifts,” you murmured lightly. 

“With a visage as perfect as yours, we simply can’t help ourselves.” Yoongi stated in reply, lifting your ring finger to slide a band onto it. 

How unfortunate it was that it was the right hand instead of the left.

He was able to hide his disappointment from you, but not from Hoseok. 

Nevertheless, there would surely be an opportunity in the near future.

How else would all of those worthless people know that you belonged to them?

——————————————————————

On the sixth day, Namjoon limped his way into your hospital room, a grimace on his face. 

You greeted him with a warm smile that quickly shifted into a worried expression. “Oh goodness, are you alright?”

Namjoon nodded, taking the seat next to your bed. “I injured my leg, it’s nothing serious. I should be perfectly alright soon.”

Seokjin had been kind enough to heal most of his limbs, the elder worried about your reaction to seeing him in such a state. 

They purposefully made him wait in agonizing pain for nearly a week, however, to rub the punishment in, before clearing him to go visit you. 

It seemed as though the student body president had lost his usual self-assured, constantly amused atmosphere. He was strangely quiet, and his body language was similar to that of a man who’d been beaten into submission. 

That was far from the Kim Namjoon you knew.

For several moments, the two of you sat in awkward silence.

The two of you hadn’t been on the best of terms the last time you spoke. Just thinking back to that moment when he’d felt like he was on top of the world, completely in control, made him cringe. 

Then, you turned and smiled at him. “You know, if you really need to, you could always join me as a patient. It’d definitely make the days less boring.”

Namjoon knew you knew there was a change in his attitude, and rather than lording that over him, you simply welcomed him as you usually did.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N).” The words blurt out before he could stop them.

You shook your head, slightly amused. “What’s with you and Jimin these days? You don’t need to apologize for saving me. Unless you want to, and, well, that’s a completely separate manner--”

“No!” Namjoon lifted his hands up and waved them around. “I just-"

You smiled, entertained by the frantic side of the normally suave, composed teen. “Think nothing of it, Namjoon. You have nothing you need to apologize to me for.”

Your expression darkened slightly as you continued. “If anything, I should apologize for not trusting you all more.”

Namjoon’s lips quivered, desperately wanting to form a victorious smirk, but he settled for an understanding smile.

In the end, he’d been right.

As usual.

“Who remains close to you, who you decide to trust, that’s completely your decision. You should never have to apologize for it.” Namjoon said.

You smiled in acknowledgement, then furrowed your brows in confusion when Namjoon started to dig around in his bag.

“I heard we were gift giving this week.” He pulled out a beautiful, leather bound journal and fountain pen and carefully placed the items on your lap. 

“This is absolutely gorgeous. How did you know I like writing?” You smiled. 

Of course he knew. He knew everything about you.

“I didn’t,” he replied, shrugging with a small smile. “I like to write in journals as a form of catharsis, and thought you might want to try.”

“Thank you so much.” You lifted an arm up and gestured for a one armed hug, one that Namjoon happily accepted.

Clutching the journal to your chest, you gathered the courage to ask him the question that had been running around in your head the past week.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?”

“How did you guys find me in time?”

The elder clenched his jaw and shifted his gaze aside as if he couldn’t beat to direct his apparent anger and frustration toward you. 

“We heard from Jimin that Aemilia took you and interrogated the police commissioner about any of our private guard’s movements. He fessed and told us that Aemilia told him that I texted her, claiming that there was another soul in need of punishment.” 

Namjoon grit his teeth, vexation rolling off of him in waves as he practically hissed out his words. “He authorized members of our private force to move under her order in order to subdue you.”

Recounting the ridiculous lie that the redhead told her father, and the father’s idiotic tendency to believe her, made his blood hot.

“After we heard that, we rushed to all the places in the forest that the Augustus men might have taken you. Thankfully, we got to Lorne’s Ledge in time and Jimin was able to save you before you could fall off the edge.”

“Are you sure?” You said. “I could have sworn I stepped off...I thought I was a goner.”

Namjoon shook his head. “We definitely got there in time to save you. You sustained several head injuries, so I’d understand if you didn’t see Jimin or blacked out.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, pondering his response for several moments before nodding at his answer. 

There was no way you would ever be able to forget what happened that night.

You knew for a fact that your feet had left the ledge. 

But he was right, you did take several nasty hits from Byun and Lee.

You wanted to keep asking him questions, but the pained, forced look in his eye made you pause on that front.

Perhaps that projection you saw of your mother had actually been Jimin.

You wrung your hands together. 

“What matters now is that you’re safe and sound.” Namjoon gently placed his hand atop yours and gave it a supporting squeeze. “All you need to focus on is getting better. We definitely won’t let them get away with this.”

You nodded again, smiling slightly at Namjoon in thanks for his concern.

——————————————————————

Halfway across town, Aemilia Augustus paced around in her room, practically biting off her perfectly manicured nails in worry.

It had been seven days. 

Seven days of nothing.

Not a single word had come in from Byun or Lee.

When she arrived at school that first day and heard everyone talking about your absence, she felt pure and utter bliss. 

There was no joy like the joy she felt in that moment.

Such euphoria simply couldn’t be replaced.

The only moments that could possibly top it were her future engagement with Kim Namjoon, or the day she would take over her family business.

Because so many days went by without a single peep at your face, she thought her plan was working. 

She felt on top of the world.

But Byun and Lee were two of the most promising soldiers on the squad. There was no reason as to why they were taking so long to get back to her to confirm your measly little death.

As a result, she was starting to panic.

Of course, she had an emergency plan. 

She had no need for it, as there was no way her plan could go wrong, but she always had to be prepared, after all.

Just as she was about to take deep breaths to calm herself down, she jumped at the sound of pounding footsteps and yelps drifting into her room from downstairs.

She heard the annoying cry of her mother and father, and then the sound of several people talking.

A grim chill fell over her.

Unexpectedly, her plan had gone horribly, horribly wrong.

There wasn’t much time left now, as she could hear the footsteps get closer and closer.

To hell with her parents--their capture was inevitable.

Aemilia Augustus would not be captured like a criminal, not as long as she was alive and well.

Aemilia padded over to her bedroom door, shutting it closed as softly as possible and smacking the lights off.

She dove into her walk-in closet and squeezed herself as tightly as possible into a corner, a rack of evening gowns and day dresses covering her.

Every couple of minutes, a door would slam open and she listened, holding a hand over her mouth as the pounding feet searched every room on her floor.

It didn’t take them long to arrive at her room, and she shook as she heard them throw things around.

A rectangle of light shone into the room as someone opened the closet door and Aemilia stilled as though she were encased in ice.

It was silent for a long, dreadful moment. The officer turned their head this way and that, walking into the room and turning on the light to search.

From where Aemilia was hidden, there was no way they would be able to find her. She thanked Wylynne that she hadn’t taken up on her mother’s offer to hire a maid to clean her closet.

The officer turned away to leave and Aemilia cheered in her heart.

After the guards left the premises, she would collect as many valuables as possible from the house and run off to her family’s private home in another part of town. From there, she would plan what to do next.

Her plan wasn’t perfect, but she would be able to get away with it.

Or at least, she thought she would.

Just as the officer was about to close the door, a strong, invisible force yanked Aemilia out from her hiding spot and she came crashing down noisily from behind the evening gowns, taking a few with her.

The officer immediately turned around, beckoning his partner to get her. 

She hurriedly gripped a platform heel and attempted to plunge it in the man’s eye, but he caught her wrist and painfully twisted her arm behind her back.

The redhead screeched in fury and pain. His partner soon joined him, and they dragged her out into her room, each officer tightly holding on to one of her arms.

“What are you doing? Unhand me this instant!” She shrieked, writhing around in an attempt to escape. “Have you forgotten who you take orders from?!”

“No, but it seems as though you have.” 

She paused at the sound of that familiar voice.

Her beloved casually strode into the room in all of his glory, his head held high, that ever present cocky, amused smile that she loved so much on his face.

“Namjoon.” She whimpered. “Namjoon, they’re hurting me.”

The student body president kneeled down in front of her and gently took her chin in his hands.

Her eyes filled with tears and she stuck out her bottom lip, waiting for Namjoon to tell the men to let her go. They better anticipate the earful they were about to receive. How dare they treat their future queen this way?

Namjoon lovingly stroked her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tear. She nuzzled her cheek into his hand, looking up at him with a pitiful gaze. He smiled at her.

Surely he would save her.

Aemilia closed her eyes, suppressing a victorious smile as she felt Namjoon pull his hand away from her face.

But rather than the sound of him barking orders, she was met with the sound of a harsh slap.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

Her face stung.

“Nam..joon...?” She whispered, stupefied.

The senior was sneering down at her, pulling a handkerchief out the square pocket of his jacket and wiping his hand on it.

“What disgusting thoughts you have,” the man spat, dropping the handkerchief in another subordinate’s hand. 

“Burn that.” He commanded.

Aemilia simply stared up at him in disbelief. 

Had he...hit her?

“Namjoon, why are you doing this?” Her voice trembled. “You’d never hit me, you’re my...we’re-”

“Nothing.” Namjoon interrupted with a disinterested gaze. “I am not your anything. I’ve never given you any inclination that could lead you to assume that I loved you, or liked you, or cared for you in the slightest.”

Aemilia dropped to her knees in incredulity. 

“That’s not true! You cared for me, I know you did! Ever since that (h/c) haired bitch appeared, you’ve turned away from me!” She screeched, her shrill voice piercing their ears. “I should’ve gotten rid of her sooner!”

As soon as the words left her mouth, all the air in Aemilia’s lungs disappeared. She heaved her chest, trying to breath, but found herself unable to.

He squatted down to face her.

“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear.” Namjoon spoke in a frighteningly low tone. “I never cared for you. You were nothing more than a useful little pawn in my game. A pawn who somehow tricked herself into believing she could become a queen.”

Her face turned redder and redder from anger, embarrassment, and the lack of oxygen.

“(Y/N) is more of a queen than you could ever be,” Namjoon stated, smiling at the memory of you sitting up in your hospital bed, grinning at him, the sun forming a halo behind your head. “She’s an angel. Our precious everything.”

He turned his gaze back to the creature before him. “She isn’t someone the likes of you can ever attempt to touch, much less harm or overthrow.”

Namjoon straightened, moving to walk towards the entrance to her room. “That’s my fault, I’m afraid. After all, I wasn’t able to properly regulate my inferiors.”

Black dots swam at the edge of Aemilia’s vision. She kept her eyes locked on Namjoon, still praying that this was all a prank or a joke, and that he would comfort her by sweeping her up into his arms.

“You truly have no idea what’s going to happen to you, do you?” He chuckled with a mirthless smile. “Don’t worry. We’ll fix that soon enough.”

Finally, her body gave in and shut down from the lack of oxygen. The redhead flopped over on her side, Namjoon’s cruel glare burned into the backs of her eyes.

——————————————————————

On the morning of the seventh day, you took advantage of your solitude by pondering the events of this week and the rather complicated emotions that came with them. 

Despite their reputation and despite your fears, you had grown closer to the Kims over the past month. 

They never threatened or harmed you or the people you cared about. They had welcomed you into their lives with open arms. 

You had kept them at an arms length in an effort to protect yourself and your loved ones. But what had distancing yourself from them gained you?

Still, there was no way your method could be wrong. It was your livelihood, your path to survival in Ichabod. 

There were rules here, rules that couldn’t be broken. 

Yet the majority of those rules had been broken the moment you invited Jimin to sit with you at lunch.

Was it even possible that an alternative path to salvation freedom existed?

Had the Kims truly provided another way? 

Your mother went around the room collecting and packing up your things for you as Mana helped you change in the bathroom, making sure to be careful of your still-healing shoulder.

When they left to fetch your discharge papers, you sat at the edge of the hospital bed and deliberated what could potentially be one of the most important decisions of your life.——————————————————————

i am so, so, so sorry for taking longer than usual to post! college and midterm season caught up with me--i’ll try not to let assignments interfere with my writing schedule in the future ;-;-; thank you so much for sticking with me through the wait! the long awaited day has finally come! revenge has never been so sweet hehe. also, the way that i have no idea how to write fight scenes--pfft. i hope you all enjoy the chapter <33

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