#maybe for the Ruin Aftermath AU

[monty-glasses-roxy]

I looked this up cause I'd never heard of it and yeah apparently if you walk up to Moon when only one generator is on, he grabs you, visibly struggles, and then does this

To be fair, I do think the attendant has it's own thing going on, with the Balloon World arcade game and the Eclipse situation but... this does highlight something for me.

The two above ground animatronics that definitely go for the kill are the same two animatronics where you can't hear them in the mask world when in their respective areas. I believe you can hear laughter and children in Gator Golf, but you can't hear anything but ambiance in the Daycare. Moon is not in the mask world either so... yeah that's interesting.

Perhaps this is a Story Teller at play? Perhaps it's the result of Eclipse and Sunny fighting back against Glitchtrap in Moon's AI?

Interesting! Didn't know this was a thing before so thanks for pointing this out!

EDIT: You said BOTH Moon's jumpscares! Forgot! The first one is literally just grabbing Cassie I dunno if that's entirely lethal ngl

I know it's commonly accepted that the Black Rabbit in Ruin is the MXES but I'm still convinced it's Glitchtrap. It being the MXES just... doesn't make sense to me?

It's fun though if the Black Rabbit is the MXES. Everyone talks about Cassie and the MXES but Roxy was the final node. She's about as physically linked to that thing as she can get that could be a fun dynamic.

[ceilidho]

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 11)

first chapter >> last chapter

-

Your heart could very well have stopped beating and you’d be none the wiser.

By now, you’ve experienced fear in all its varietals. The stomach churning and the latent, the languid; the swift moving silverfish slipping out of your grasp. The monstrous rising beast of it the day you turned around to find the master of the house turning the lock on the door and trapping you in with him. Then the delayed panic in the aftermath of bringing the bust down over his head and hearing his skull crack under its weight, the blood pooling around his body, almost aureole-like. Pondering the miraculous like, well, isn’t that just the devil of it. A halo for a man intent on your ruin.

 The fear washing over you now is entirely new though. Like a rapid exhalation. Of course you were right all along . Right to expect the devil showing up on your doorstep. The weeks of silence had imbued you with a sense of confidence. An arrogant, undeserved confidence that whispered in your ear to let your guard down. 

But you know now that the world is not large enough to hide in. It is a wasteland of false prophets and false directions. There are no second chances.

The only consolation is the silence from the man behind the counter as he studies the warrant. You imagine him standing there giving it a good once over, his face maybe scrunching up as it calls to mind the woman that just walked through his door. You wonder if they thought to add a sketch of your likeness, whether there’ll be a woman on the warrant that looks an awful lot like you. 

You stay put behind the shelf though, not risking so much as a peep. 

“Any information you might have would be much obliged,” Graves says, trying to coax an answer out.

After a few more seconds, the shop attendant answers with a rueful, “Can’t say I have, sir. You want me to leave this with the sheriff?”

Graves breathes out through his nose in frustration. “Now, are you positive about that? Take a closer look—I don’t mind waitin’ a bit longer for you to sift through your memories. I’m sure a town as big as this must get passersby from time to time.”

“No. I’m sorry, sir, but I’m certain. Never seen a woman fitting this description or name. Couldn’t even tell you the last time we had a stranger come through town and stay longer than a day.”

“I see.” It’s hard to tell whether Graves takes him at his word or not. The aura of menace that the man exudes suggests that anything said to him might rouse his suspicions. That they’ve already been roused, in fact. It makes even you second guess the man behind the counter, wondering if perhaps he knows and simply stays his tongue. 

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Still want me to pass this along to the sheriff?”

The floorboards creak under his feet when Graves takes a step back. “If you don’t mind. Been having the darndest time tryin’ to track down the man and, frankly, I’ve got other obligations. I do appreciate your time though.”

You stay hidden behind the shelf, listening to the sound of the spurs on his boots rattling as he leaves. The chime on the door jingles when it slams shut. You flinch at the sound. For a minute after his departure, you wonder if the door will burst back open and he’ll come crashing in, heading straight for the back to haul you out by your hair.  

A minute passes and nothing happens. The floor beneath you still feels like it might give out at any moment.

When you take your first step, the nausea comes rushing up. 

“Mrs. Price,” the shop attendant says, perking up at the sight of you coming out from behind the shelf. “I forgot you were still here.”

You feel like an automaton or a ball-jointed doll, your movements stiff as you approach him. Morbidly curious as to what you’ll see on the warrant spread out on the counter separating the two of you. When you look down, your breath comes shuddering out. 

The sketch on the paper does bear a passing resemblance to you, but only if you squint. Nothing that anyone could point to and claim with certainty that it depicts you. Underneath the sketch, you balk when you see your real name. It’s jarring to even look at. Though you’ve gone most of your life answering to it, the past few weeks have disabused you of any connection to it. Now, you feel permeable, malleable—a substance that has been reshaped into something new. That girl on the warrant is gone now. Done and dusted. So detached from memory that even the sketch of her depicts someone else, proves false. 

Still, you’re shaken by how close he’d gotten. Supposing Graves had come in while you’d been within sight. Supposing he’d looked you in the eye and asked you directly, and you’d stuttered under his sharklike gaze and drawn further scrutiny. You almost can’t believe how close it’d grazed you. The sharp edge of fate like a blade now sheathed again. 

“Would you mind taking this to the sheriff?” he asks, not realizing the gift he’s given you. “I’m a bit tied up minding the shop.”

You nod wordlessly and take the folded up warrant from him.

It burns red hot in your hands when you step outside. You glance around nervously, unsure as to whether Graves had stuck around to question more people. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were still within earshot. 

You waver in the street with the folded piece of paper tucked in your hands. A horse pulling along a cart laden with firewood creaks as it passes, rousing you from the trance you’d fallen into. You flinch, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. It’s blinding suddenly. A clear sky, the clouds long since taken away by the wind. 

John could be anywhere at this time of day. Despite the fear curdling in your belly, you can’t help the knee jerk reaction to go to him. That’s precisely what you don’t want to do though. You don’t want to be around the county sheriff on the day a bounty hunter came into town looking for you. 

A crow sitting on the roof of a building across the street caws and flaps its wings, taking off into the sky. 

You want to be anywhere but in town waiting anxiously for John to come find you. You don’t want to lay eyes on him and see that he’s found you out. The thought of John finding out about the man you killed back east is beyond contemplation. It nearly has you keeling over in the middle of the street. You can hardly bear the thought. How could you bear to live a moment beyond that, withering under his disapproval? His contempt? 

You don’t think you can.

Every shadow fills you with dread. A barmaid comes out to toss a bucket of dirty water in the alley and you flinch like you’ve been caught. You keep your head down as you walk, eyes straight on the ground. Someone calls out your fake name and you ignore them. 

Your instinct, as usual, is to run. Abscond from the scene of the crime. Even if the thought hurts. Even though you’d let yourself begin to hope that the times of trouble had passed you by. That perhaps you could’ve made a home out here in the middle of nowhere. You should have known that those dreams were just that. You should have known better than to want. These days, it is dangerous to long for anything.

It’s better if you fade from memory like a bad dream, you think when you spot Buttercup fixed to the post outside the sheriff’s office. Better if they think of you with a bad taste in their mouth and nothing more. A girl that came and stole their sheriff’s heart and his horse and then vanished into the night. 

When one of her black eyes fixes on you, you still in your advance. A horse can’t possibly read your intentions, but you feel like she does somehow. Like she knows you intend to take her and flee. She shifts, hooves coming up and back down, and you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth suddenly, nerves taking on. You won’t let yourself be ruled by them though. There are bigger things to fear.  

“Come on, Buttercup,” you whisper, hesitating before smoothing your hand down her nose. You flinch when she nickers. “I just—I need you to help me, okay?”

It’s an outrageously bad idea. Even to you that’s obvious. You don’t have nearly enough experience riding solo or even with John trailing behind you on another horse to help offer correction if you falter on your own. You’re blinded by fear though, practically shaking as you undo Buttercup’s lead from the post outside the sheriff’s office. 

You’re clumsy trying to hoist yourself up onto her without John to boost you up and hold you steady. It takes a couple of tries before you manage to swing your leg over, and you curse under your breath when your dress bunches up around your waist, exposing the bare flesh of your legs. There aren’t many people roaming the street, fortunately for you.

Buttercup resists at first when you tug lightly on the reins to guide her away. She stomps her foot when you try again, giving a light whinny. Panic seizes you, a coil in your belly. You’ve only ever ridden her before with John at your side; you wonder if she’ll even listen to you in his absence or if even she can tell you’re about to do something foolish and wants nothing to do with it. 

“Please, girl,” you beg. “I promise—I’ll figure out some way to get you back.”

On the third attempt, she finally listens. The way she abruptly breaks into a fast trot nearly sends you toppling over. You catch yourself by clutching the horn, tight enough that your knuckles ache. Your forehead breaks out in a nervous sweat. Buttercup covers ground fast, and without John sitting behind you like a silent sentinel, you feel control slip out of your slippery hands, clammy with sweat too. 

“Whoa, girl,” you breathe, trying to calm her by stroking a hand down her neck. 

It does precious little to calm her down. You remember something John once said about animals smelling fear. They know it like your name. 

You lose control of her fast. Almost in the blink of an eye, you go from steering Buttercup towards John’s house to holding on for dear life. Your body rocks with hers and you’re forced to tighten your thighs around her midsection when she breaks into a gallop, your hands still clinging tight to the reins. Her hooves kick up dust and dirt in her haste, sending it flying behind you. 

“Slow down!” you shout, but the words are swept away by the wind, already behind you. 

Not once have you ever ridden a horse at this speed. Your direction seems like more of a suggestion to Buttercup, and not one she’s inclined to take. The town rapidly vanishes behind you, the vegetation sparse for the first few hundred yards, arid scrubland scorched by the sun and fed off of by the horses and mules coming in and out of town. The sun beats down hot on your head, no hat to shield you from the heat.

You can’t imagine you would’ve been able to hold it down though, you think wildly, mind still in a flurry of panic. It would’ve flown right off ages before. 

Your breath comes out in hitched pants as you clutch with all your might to the horn of the saddle, your hands soon transferring to her mane for better purchase. Buttercup moves like a rogue wave beneath you, like something sailors only speak about in hushed whispers. She takes a wide arc around John’s property, heading towards the mountains instead, and no amount of trying to steer her with your legs seems to work. 

Your head whips back to watch the house pass, the dark shape of it sailing past you, and it nearly causes you to lose your balance. Looking back in front of you only makes it worse. Panic courses through you when you stare ahead only for the world in front of you to spin. Bile creeps up your throat. You swallow it back, but only just.

The half-formulated plan you’d had in mind is long gone. All you can focus on now is remaining astride the horse beating dirt under you. Any thought of bringing her to a halt dissipates. Even the thought of escape evaporates into thin air. 

Only when you feel Buttercup slow to a trot do you peel open your eyes. The breath you let out as you look around is short, panic still churning in your guts.

Over the weeks since John married you and took you home, he’s taken you through the mountains a fair few times, familiarizing you with the land to the best of his abilities in such a short amount of time. But the wilderness stretches far and the terrain beyond John’s homestead is rough, treacherous. 

When you look around, you realize that you don’t recognize this part of the mountainside. 

The trail Buttercup takes you down is cut haphazard into the landscape—a crude, handmade path, not one seared into the ground from frequent travel. It feels distinctly wilder than where you’ve been before. Your head swivels around as you try to look for something that might jog your memory. The striated mountainside tells you nothing. The trees out this deep into the mountains are thicker and older, gnarled root systems bursting up from the earth and coiling around the nearby rocks like snakes winding around their prey. 

You sit up a bit straighter, still shaking when you rub your hand down Buttercup’s neck. “You know where we are, girl?”

She puffs out a breath.

That tells you nothing, but she keeps going down the same path deeper into the woods. No amount of squeezing your thighs or patting her neck gets her to stop. You should be thankful that she’s at least no longer sprinting, that you can actually sit up and catch your breath now, but the fear from earlier is but a paltry shadow compared to that which is brewing in you now. 

Every crick and snapping twig makes your head spin round. You stare intensely past the treeline, searching for the barest hint of motion. You don’t know much about these parts, but you know that this is no place for a woman by her lonesome. Even a man on his own out here might feel jumpy. This far out of the way, only cougars and bears take refuge, and the odd band of outlaws making camp for the night and taking advantage of the relative isolation this far out west. 

“Come on, girl, we can’t be out here,” you whisper, leaning closer to Buttercup to hopefully muffle your voice. Even as low as you speak, it still seems to echo.

You don’t know where you’re meant to go though. In the flurry of panic that had come over you at Graves’ arrival, you’d bolted without thought. Without a compass or map, you’re as good as lost in the unsettled land deep in the mountains. 

As that reality dawns on you, you realize that you haven’t had a drink of water in quite some time. 

An hour must pass with Buttercup stubbornly refusing to listen to your commands to turn back. Maybe longer. She resists even when you pull on the reins. In truth, you don’t blame her. Your commands come feeble, no strength behind them. The fear of being bucked off her back makes you soft. John would be gruff, unyielding—you can’t imagine him giving into fear.

That somehow upsets you even more. You can’t help but wish more than anything that he were here with you. 

The temperature drops as the sun begins to set. Without the sun beating down on you, you shiver in the cold air. There’s nothing to keep you warm other than the clothes on your back. Your lips smack when you part them, parched after hours without water. You haven’t stumbled across a river or stream in the hours since starting down this path.

Then, from behind you, you hear it. 

The name that isn’t yours. You don’t catch it at first until it comes again, louder this time. When you look over your shoulder and down the path behind you, John’s furious face stares back at you, his lips worked into a flat line. 

The way you gasp must spook Buttercup, because she abruptly breaks into a gallop, forcing you to hunker down and hold on. You want desperately to look back, torn between relief and distress, but you stare ahead instead. 

The black horse he rides gains on you fast, legs pumping beneath its massive body. It’s not a horse you’ve seen before. Maybe borrowed in his haste to chase after you. You don’t let yourself digest that thought though, too concerned with remaining astride. 

Despite its size, it collapses the distance between you two quickly, nearly on you now. Instinct has you leaning into Buttercup, trying to get as low as possible and let the air glide around you. Her gallop quickens into a sprint. You’re just holding on now, facing straight ahead, no chance of being more than a passenger on this trip. 

John shouts at you from your rear to bring Buttercup to a stop. You squeeze your lips together instead of shouting back that you can’t. If you open your mouth, you think your stomach will come straight out. 

Your body jostles around on top of your horse, on the verge of slipping off with every passing second. When she takes a turn too quickly down a trail leading up into the mountains and you slide a bit to one side on the saddle, only your foot in the stirrup catching you, your heart stops. Fear is ice inverted; poured over you. It drenches you in another layer of sweat that dries rapidly in the air whipping around you. 

Hot and cold. The ground seems to come towards you every time Buttercup’s legs kick up. Always on the verge of falling and breaking every bone in your body. You suck your tongue to the roof of your mouth so it doesn’t get caught between your clacking teeth and bitten right off. 

“Pull up on the reins!” John roars over the cacophony of stomping hooves. 

A glance to your right finds him close enough to graze with your fingertips. Your heart jumps in your chest.

“Pull up!” he shouts again, but all you can do is stare uncomprehendingly. 

You don’t know if he can see the terror in your eyes. It must be splayed clean across your face. He has to see the way his words mean nothing to you. Your panic effaces any meaning; all you hear is noise and anger pouring from his mouth, and trampled dirt and labored breath. 

When his horse pulls up alongside yours, he gets close enough to lean over and snatch the reins out of your hands. He pulls firm, tugging Buttercup’s head back until she almost rears up and you scream, hands fisting in her mane. 

Your body lurches forward when she comes back down, slumped over the saddle horn. It digs hard into your stomach. There’ll be a bruise there come morning, but nothing like the bruises that’ll bloom between your thighs. Even now the ache radiates down your body. You look up at the sound of John’s breath panting out like a bull, and he glares down at you with undisguised fury, the angriest you’ve ever seen him. 

“What in the blazes were you thinkin’?” he booms. Even the horse he sits astride shakes its head at the sound. “There’s nothing out here but outlaws and predators!”

The hand fisted in Buttercup’s reins pulls her closer, and he guides both horses into a slow trot and then to a stop. You can feel the way Buttercup’s ribs expand and contract under your legs. 

“Stop it— don’t touch me!” you snap when he reaches for you, smacking his hand away.

“Darlin’, if you get off that damned horse—” John warns, but you’re already swinging your leg over the saddle as the words come out of his mouth. 

You almost trip over the stirrup when you slide off Buttercup’s back and take off on foot. You fist the skirt of your dress in both hands to lift it as you run, letting it swish around you with the force of your strides. A curse and grunt come from back behind you. The sound of John’s boots hitting the dirt is loud, and when he chases after you, his boots pound into the earth.  

It’s a desperate last move, but all you can think is that you’d rather be anywhere else but in his arms. You’d rather take your chances with the wolves and bears in the woods, or with the bandits and brigands on the trails leading to the next town. 

You barely make it past the next tree before he barrels into you and takes you both to the ground, the world spinning as you fall down. He angles his body to take the brunt of the impact, but you still cry out when your hip hits the ground hard. The way he pulls you into his chest just barely keeps your head from slamming into a rock. 

“Goddamn it, woman,” John spits. “Where d’ya think you’re even going? There ain’t nowhere to run out here!”

Your head spins. When you open your mouth, all you can taste is rust and salt, sweat dripping off your upper lip. You can feel the heat of his chest against your back and he doesn’t give you a chance to gather your bearings before hauling you to your feet, tugging both of your arms behind your back. 

“Let me go!” you scream, trying to wrestle out of his hold to no avail. 

You know he doesn’t understand, but you can’t help the way you try to fight your way out of his hold. There’s no explanation that’ll make sense to him other than the truth, which you clamp tight in your chest. There's no telling if he already knows, if maybe Graves finally tracked him down or if someone else brought their suspicions to his attention, but you won't go spilling the truth yourself. 

He’s a solid mass behind you, breath labored from hours spent tracking you. You wonder if he noticed mere moments after you took Buttercup and left or whether he came back to the sheriff’s office only to find the two of you gone. 

John holds your wrists in one big hand at the small of your back and gives you a mean shake. “I don’t know what’s got you so riled up, but you better fix this attitude of yours and explain yourself before we get home or so help me God, I’ll take my belt to your ass.”

The mention of him belting your backside makes your hands go clammy, but you must have abandoned your common sense a mile back because your mouth keeps running. “I’ll gut you like a pig if you touch a hair on my head!” 

“We’ll just see about that,” he grunts, and you can hear the raw edged smirk in his voice and the anger behind it. 

When he leads you stumbling towards the horses waiting in the middle of the trail, you realize that capture had always been an inevitability in your mind. Maybe it even comes as a relief to know that the jig is up. 

You just hadn’t realized that it would be someone else hauling you back by your hair.

[moongothic]

Crocodad AU where immidiately after having left Dragon and his baby boy Crocodile finds an 11 year old Robin. And while he's 100% only recruiting her so they can make a beeline for the Poneglyph and Pluton in Alabasta by the two of them... Crocodile accidentally sorta kinda adopts Robin.

At this point Robin's been running for her life from the Government for three years so her deep trust issues and fear of betrayal are starting to take root in her little heart. Like perhaps they haven't taken fully over yet, and being still a child I'm sure Robin might've still had that genuine hope that she could find a safe place to stay in. But I'm sure the though of "what'll he'll do with me once he gets what he wants?" would be nagging at her at the back of her mind. Meanwhile Crocodile's struggling between the pain and hurt he's already gone through and given him his trademark trust issues, as well as the aftermath of The Dragodile Divorce. But he also has his Fresh Paternal Instincts and probably misses his baby. So when given a small, scared child who is running for her life, being chased by the very same Government that'll want his son dead if they ever find out about him... Yeah that might fuck with your brain a little

You know this post was supposed to be just that first paragraph and just a few footnotes from the following two paragraphs. And then I kept on Having Thoughts. And I kept on writing them down. And oh no what happened when did this post get so long (Look I was going to either kept on writing my Additional Thoughts in the tags or I just put them in the actual fucking post)

Like considder this: based on this one SBS, we can kinda tell that if Crocodile was given a chance to raise a child, that child would be a spoiled little shit, right

So in this scenario, where Crocodile's looking after lil Robin, would he be kind of torn? Unsure how to feel about her?

Because on one hand, this strange child would have the potential to not only ruin his plans, strip him of his Shichibukai Privileges by outing him and his plans to the World Government, but also put his son in grave danger by extension (if she found out about him having been involved with the Revolutionaries and/or having a child). But on the other hand, his paternal instincts could make him want to spoil this poor little girl rotten. But only because he needs to (perhaps literally) buy her trust so she'll behave. No other reason, he doesn't feel sorry for her one bit, no sirree. (But maybe he did feel sorry for her, since his son could very well end up exactly like her. Poor little thing) (Which is why he needs to nuke Marijoa out of orbit as soon as possible, no matter the cost, and this child can't get in the way of Crocodile protecting his son) (But also this is a child. Like how bad could she be. Besides all he really needs to do to win her trust is be nice and make her feel safe, right?)

Of course, while I'm suggesting Crocodile could have some parental instincts, realistically, he hasn't actually spent any time being, you know, a father to a child (looking after his newborn for an unknown though short amount of time aside), so it's possible he wouldn't even know how to parent Robin even if he wanted to, would he? (Like taking care of a newborn and an 11 year old kid aren't the same either) So if he was kind of just emotionally flipflopping between No Trusting Ever and It's Just A Kid for God's Sake, Crocodile trying to be nice to Robin to make her feel safe and then telling himself to stop being so soft and vunerable... Yeah that would make for an absolute mess of a relationship. (Not to mention, let's be real, dude's a scary motherfucker too, and a bloody giant compared to itty bitty baby Robin. He could keep on accidentally scaring the shit out of Robin (who would be On Fucking Edge To Begin With) by just Being Himself. Like for example, can you fucking imagine if he caught Robin trying to cheer herself up with a little "dereshishishi" only to tell her to stop because "it was stupid"? 'Cause I can imagine him doing that, and boy howdy would that make Robin feel bad)

Or who knows, maybe Crocodile was just Born To Be A Dad, maybe he just Fucking Gets It. Like Crocodile is canonically pretty good at manipulating people to do what he wants them to do (see: how he played Vivi like a fiddle), so knowing Robin's position and understanding how she feels, maybe he COULD completely nail how she needed to be treated. Not being too familiar but still making her feel safe and happy, knowing exactly when to be stern and when to spoil her, etc. Dude just goes off and wins the Dad of the Year Award while being a deadbeat dad himself. The only thing Crocodile would have to worry about then would be making sure HE doesn't get too fond of her. And certainly that could never happen, he's so in-touch with his own feelings and so grounded, he's not a softie, get outta here. Or maybe he does but never realizes until it's too late and good luck backpedalling on those emotions now dumbass

Alright so, the reason I went on that whole rmble is just that like. I'm so interested in the relationship Robin and Crocodile already have in canon. I'm so facinated and curious about how the two feel about each other, considdering they did spend 4 whole years of their lives together as criminal business partners, though neither ever trusted the other. A partnership that was only ended because Robin betrayed Crocodile, out of her own trauma. (God, I want to see these two "reunite" so bad, I want to know how they feel about each other now after the timeskip and Robin joining the idiot in flipflops who foiled Croc's plans)

My question here is just that... if they had met 13 years earlier, would things have been different? Especially if Crocodad Real? Because as I mentioned in the begining, Robin would've been on the run for only 3 years by this point, as opposed to 16 years before running into Crocodile. Simultaneously, this would be before Crocodile went onto spend an entire decade all alone, slowly losing his marbles in his emotional solitude. They'd both be emotionally traumatized, yes, but would it have been as bad in this scenario? Like I did start this post kind of joking about Crocodile adopting Robin, and for clarity's sake I don't think they'd have like a father-daughter relationship nececarily. But it would be a strange relationship still, because we'd have two broken people, both struggling to trust anyone. One who had lost her mother and her only friends, leaving her all alone and afraid while running for her life. The other a father who had just given up his son whom he probably missed dearly. Both having these holes in their hearts from loss of family, holes that could not be filled with replacements. But could they find comfort in each other anyway, because they still as people occupy similar roles to their respective loved ones? If they both could just get over those trust issues?

Okay I've been going off on the Emotional Side Of Things for this AU Concept, THERE'S PLOT TOO

So if Crocodile did pick Robin up like 19 years ago, that should be before he set up base in Alabasta, long before he had built is homebase and financial empire etc.

Now the thing is, while we don't know when, where and how Crocodile learned about the Ancient Weapons, Pluton specifically and how the lead on it would be in Alabasta... Considdering Crocodile did once upon a time aim to become Pirate King, it would make perfect sense if he had learned about Poneglyphs during his past adventures, as he would have needed to get the Road Poneglyphs to find One Piece. And while the World Government did bury the truth about why Ohara had been burned down and why Robin had been given her bounty (remember, the WG claimed it was because she had sunken a fleet of battleships, which she had not, it was because she could read the Poneglyphs), considdering this is a Crocodad AU specifically, you could totally make an argument Crocodile could've learned about what actually happened to Ohara from Dragon and co. So, just to make this AU work, you could just assume Crocodile learned about the concept of the Ancient Weapons from Dragon. And who knows, maybe he overheard the truth about why Robin had been given her bounty from Dragon too (maybe Dragon was able to get intel from Garp in secret) or while going to Marijoa himself to attend a Shichibukai meeting or something IDK.

Maybe he learned about Pluton being in Alabasta before finding Robin by accident, and maybe they made a beeline for Alabasta the second Croc recruited Robin. Travelling takes time and the guy would've most likely had to find an Eternal Pose to Alabasta just to get there (also canonically Robin didn't enter the Grand Line until her 20s so they should've met in West Blue probably, since that's where Ohara was) Or maybe Crocodile had to haul Robin around for a few months while looking for That Missing Piece of Information that would lead him to Alabasta. (Imagine the two travelling from like island to island, library to library, Crocodile trying to find that leads while Robin's just so excited about ALL THESE BOOKS (she's helping too with the research) (but to her, research is playtime, so she's just having the time of her life) (Also, notice how Crocodile's Theoretical Child is a fucking loser ass nerd? Yeah Crocodile would encourage Robin reading and studying, surely. And that would be fucking cute))

But like, once they set sail to Alabasta...

Sure, Crocodile could try to do it The Slow Way that we know he tried in canon, building trust and creating his little empire etc. But also, in canon, Crocodile couldn't have jumped into action head first because without Robin, even if he had found the Poneglyph he couldn't have read it and found the location of Pluton. Crocodile choosing to do it the slow way may have been partially because he didn't have much of a choise and it could've felt like the smarter move long-term.

But in this scenario, he already has Robin. Yes, he could do it the slow, secure way.

But what'd be there stopping him from infiltrating Cobra's palace and kidnapping him (in the night, when nobody suspects a thing), demanding Cobra to spill the beans lest Crocodile kills him and/or his pregnant wife* (*Vivi was born 10 months after Luffy so depending on how long it's been between Crocodad leaving Luffy behind and this scenario... Yeah either the wife is there, still pregnant, or there's a newborn Baby Vivi)

Like it'd be a risky move but depending on how ballsy Croc's feeling and how confident he feels in being able to kidnap the king without being noticed... Yeah he could probably do it. And I'm sure he'd have no problem killing Cobra either, if anything it'd be required if he didn't want the Government to find out he was out to find Pluton, and god knows Cobra would tell on Crocodile if left alive. I could see Crocodad being maybe a little iffy about killing Baby Vivi though (it's not like the newborn baby could report him to the WG anyways), but if nothing else, he just needs to be able to pull off the bluff of his life to convince Cobra to do as he's told. And we all know Crocodile's good at convincing people.

The only question is, how would Robin take that?

Watching Crocodile go into Full Murder Mode, hearing him say he'd kill a pregnant woman/a newborn baby if he didn't get what he wanted? Like yeah, I'm sure 11 year old Robin would be fine with that, that wouldn't make any alarm bells go off in her head at all, it'd be fiiiine. IT WOULD NOT BE FINE, SHE'D BE SCARED SHITLESS. That fear of "what will he do with me when he gets what he wants"? Well, Robin may not have found the answer to that question in particular, but she certainly found the answer to the opposite question, and it's not good

So say Cobra, kidnapped (perhaps with Baby Vivi) by Crocodile in the night, guides the two to the Poneglyph under the tombs. Crocodile puts Cobra out of his misery because he's not needed anymore. And he asks Robin to read the Poneglyph for him.

Robin, who has spent the last little while, be it weeks or months with Crocodile, him having become her "guardian", the thing keeping her safe. Crocodile, who has now shown how cold blooded and cruel he can be. Robin, who might be scared out of her mind. Of him.

And the Poneglyph says Pluton, the thing Crocodile wants, isn't there. It's in Wano.

What's she going to do?

EDIT: I wrote a sequel post, enjoy

[arafilez]

੭୧ ⼂ LOWKEY ﹗

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ cs x fem!reader ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤmature, mdni , smut, fwb, college au 𓏧 wine, sex and your friend choi san- the aftermaths of a party and the dealings of your heart ㅤ warnings vanilla sex, praise kink, alcohol ㅤ﹢ㅤ3.7k wc ㅤ���ㅤ req

You sip lightly on the wine glass while sitting on the couch as a couple makes out beside you. You can’t care less as your eyes scan the party for the person who is supposed to be present at the party. A whiff of smoke comes in your sight and you whip your head at the familiar deodorant.

“Searching for him again?” your brother Mingi speaks beside you blowing another smoke before pressing his lips to a girl clutching onto him. You make a disgusted face and look away saying, “I am.” He looks down at you raising an eyebrow and you shrug finishing the wine that matches the dark red colour of your dress.

“Maybe you should just confess,” he replies over the squeals of a drunk Wooyoung who has suddenly come over to replace the girl and is now trying to smooch him. “Accept his kiss,” you laugh getting up and dodging his question as you walk towards the counter.

He sighs loudly and then walks towards you as Wooyoung’s girlfriend gets a hold of him. “Don’t ignore my question y/n,” he whines and you shush his deep and loud voice looking around in suspicion.

“Maybe not yell that in a party full of gossiping college students,” you hiss at him and he rolls his eyes and is about to retort when a smooth voice cuts him off saying, “The party is wild, Mingi-ya.”

Your ears perk up and you look behind your tall brother to see San’s smiling. Mingi grins doing their personal handshake and replies, “You are going to help me clean in the morning.” You groan at your brother being an ass while San looks at him bewildered and Mingi casually leaves, walking towards Hongjoong who is now trying to enter the waste bin.

“He is really straightforward,” San laughs and you shake your head, cursing your brother internally. San and you make small take before you take your leave, going to meet your friends.

Your back hits the soft mattress as a whine builds up in your throat. You grasp San’s hair with fervour and tug on it deepening the kiss and San groans in your mouth, feeling himself getting hard with each passing second. The light hint of smoke on his lips paired with the alcohol could only do so much as make you go absolutely feral.

You gasp as he parts for air and takes in your form- hair messy from his fingers running through them, lipstick smudged and breathless, lustful eyes watching him in hazy delight. People talk about the seven wonders but he will pay millions just to see you like this, beautiful and raw- just for him.

You drag your nails along his collarbone and look at him whining, “Do whatever you want with me Sannie.” You are ready to be fucked senseless by him, to spill his name until you feel your mind-numbing so his next action surprises you.

San presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss that makes your insides melt and you feel his hand kneading through your hair softly. A foreign feeling rises in your chest and you push it down as you run your hand along his shirt sleeves clutching on it. A light whimper accentuates the air as you part as the kiss deepens and you feel him breaking all rules of your arrangement non-verbally.

Because San isn’t kissing you like he wants to ruin you.

San is kissing you like you are his only source of warmth on a cold winter night.

“What are you doing?” you whisper to him as soon as you part and he breaks into a smile answering, “You told me to do whatever I wanted to. I want to take my time.” Your protest dies in your throat as you feel him press a kiss on the corner of your mouth and trail it down your throat.

Your body tenses at his actions and his fingers run along your sides resting on your waist and tracing light patterns on it. You relax instantly and you feel his smile against the base of your throat as he kisses it. Slightly sucking on the area he earns a light gasp from you as he applies more pressure and pulls out.

He presses light kisses along your arm and you squirm, a giggle threatening to spill from your throat as he reaches your wrist and presses his lips and then presses feathery kisses on each one of your fingers. You feel the sensation tug your heartstrings and his actions surface your deep-rooted feelings for him.

Feelings you aren’t supposed to explore at all. Feeling that grew each time you had hooked up with him. Feelings that you deny every time.

You pressurise your mind to focus on the pleasure but the more San kisses your body the more you lose it. This was not part of the deal, fuck and leave was the deal. You’re still technically doing that, you think and you push back the reason on your conscience far back in your mind.

“You are so beautiful,” his deep voice sends vibrations along your body as he kisses down your chest and attaches his mouth to your perked-up nipples. You arch your back, San’s name rolling off your tongue as he licks over it and bites lightly. His tongue feels so good that you barely notice San’s fingers hooking your panties and pulling them down in a swift motion.

A shiver goes down your spine as the air hits your clit and San moves down kissing along your stomach. He goes painfully slow, pressing his lips on every stretch mark and your heart does somersaults. San has never ‘taken his time’ before and the way he is treating you almost makes you believe you are a domestic couple.

San kisses along your waistline before he hovers over your clit, his breath hitting your sensitive region and you scream in pleasure when he collects your arousal and pushes it in you.

“So wet baby, only for me,” he says and you gasp as his mouth attaches to your clit. He sucks on hit and your thighs close in instinct but he holds them down as his tongue rapidly laps in your clit. He licks and stripes and his tongue hits the right spots.

And elicit moans leave your throat and you feel like seeing stars as San’s tongue works wonders. Soon you feel the familiar coil in your stomach and it snaps. A string of his name leaves your mouth and San sucks in every one of your juice like it is his last meal. His eyes glisten as he looks at your panting state and kisses you right away.

You groan at your taste in his mouth and he pulls away angling himself over you. He rolls off a condom and pressing his lips to you again pushes himself in. A half-gasp, half-moan rips along your throat as he inches deeper and deeper and his feather-like kisses all over your face accentuate your feelings for him more and more.

“You taste so damn sweet love,” his late admission makes your throat constrict and he takes his sweet time exploring you with his cock. He hits the right spots and you moan into his neck, your nails digging into his skin with his every thrust.

“So beautiful and perfect, just for me,” he whispers in your ears, pressing a trail of kisses down to your throat and his words haze your mind, tipping you over the edge.

His thrusts become harder and faster as he realises you are close before his hips shake in pleasure. You feel your arousal approaching and whisper it out and you hear him say, “Let go, darling.” His voice and his loving gaze make you come undone and San follows soon after with a groan of your name.

His lips find yours and press on them, encasing them in sweet pleasure. It isn’t rushed or high from energy, instead, it is slow and sensual and it tugs your heartstrings more as you take relief from the post-coital bliss. San smiles as he leaves your lips and pulls himself out falling on the bed beside you.

His sentences from before roam around in your head as you feel him get up probably to leave like you guys had planned some months ago. Of course, he will do that.

You are so beautiful.

So beautiful and perfect, just for me.

The deal- fuck with no strings attached. You two had simply decided on it after you two couldn’t find suitable partners and good sex. So five drinks, an accidental hook-up with each other and a pounding head the morning after you two decided on it. Have good sex, never stay the night for aftercare and the universal rule- never fall for each other.

You have been actively breaking rule three for some weeks now. You have fallen for him, like him so much that it physically hurts you when he is with any other girl. It makes your heart clench when he flirts with others, lingers his touches more than usual and laughs in that beautiful voice of his at a stupid joke a girl makes to impress him.

But you guys had decided on this, you two can date whoever you want, this arrangement is only for pleasure purposes. And the sex you just had was nothing but one of his experiments you had consented him to. But the way he touched you, kissed you, whispered to you didn’t feel like fucking.

It was like love.

And you hated yourself for it. San’s hands on your knees jerk you back to reality as he makes a motion that he is leaving and you nod lightly. All the rules in the deal were settled by you, and San had simply agreed to them. So breaking them when the person who got roped into this is following it isn’t the ideal scenario.

And thus you have to get rid of these feelings.

You wake up the next morning and go to the living room to see Mingi already starting the cleaning. An empty glass of hangover juice is sitting alone on the countertop and piles of other utensils and cutlery are in the sink. Your brother has already mopped the floor and you admire him for his tenacity. At least something happened under the influence of Seonghwa.

“Where’s San?” you roll your eyes at the rhetorical question and don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Mingi watches you as you pick up the lint roller and start cleaning the other half of the room he hasn’t touched.

“It’s so frankly annoying and stupid that you two try to deny everything between you two,” he sighs loudly and it works as your head whips in his direction. “How much delusional are you? We have nothing within us,” you reply nonchalantly but the tinge of sadness in your tone betrays you.

“Sure, that is exactly why he was so pissed yesterday and about to break a guy’s nose for calling you a ‘slut’,” he deadpans and you look at him in shock before quickly blinking and composing yourself, “Well at least they person’s nose is okay.”

“Nope, I broke it,” he states as if he did something as simple as eat cereal in the morning and your eyes widen as he shrugs. “But this is not about me, this is about San, do you know how many girls he has tipped off with the excuse of your ‘arrangement’? As far as I am aware you guys can date anyone despite the fucking.”

You look away from your brother’s penetrative eyes and try to focus on the cleaning. But your mind is anywhere but cleaning as Mingi’s words play over in your head. Your twin kicks your shin and you jerk in surprise. “When did you-“You get interrupted by him saying, “Stop pretending like you can’t hear me and do something about these unresolved feelings. They are so obvious that even the boy I tutor is catching up.”

“Right, of course, the boy you tutor, Hyunwoo, who comes to our house just one day every week. Do you not know eighth-graders are full of shit and hormones? He is obviously tripping,” you fake scoff three times before stopping as you feel his judgemental eyes boring into yours.

“Whatever sails your ship, y/n,” he says in a sing-song tone earning another eye-roll from you before you both get back to work.

You stare in distaste at your closet as most of your party outfits are in the laundry. You curse Wooyoung in your head for throwing a third party in the same week right after you send your outfits in the wash you pick up your phone. Your hand hovers over your call list and rational thinking is never an option before you are dialling San.

He is still a friend!

San picks up in a heartbeat, something Wooyoung calls “desperate” but you call “efficiency” and you hear his smooth tone over the line, “Hey y/n.”

“Hey San, I was wondering if you want to catch up for coffee?” you ask casually and you hear him chuckle over the line, “After or before we buy you a dress?”

“How did you know?” you ask and he snorts, his light laugh sending your heart in a frenzy. The warm sound over the line feels like a rush over your muddled brain as you smile looking at your feet.

“I always know, when it comes to you,” he replies and you bite your lips. The small, rational part of your brain telling you to stop is pushed far behind and you reply, “Being a bit too obsessed with me, are we now, Choi?”

“I can be obsessed with you any day,” he smoothly adds over and a half-snort half-giggle leaves your mouth which would be embarrassing if you already didn’t have heart-eyes in a voice call. The familiar day-dreaming returns as you imagine San kissing you, not for merely sex, but for the shy giggles, or him hugging you with his face into the crook of your neck or him tracing down-

“So I will pick you up?” he asks breaking you out of your love-sick trance and your ears feel warm as you reply with a ‘yes’ praying it wasn’t as shaky as it sounded in your head. “Great, see you in fifteen,” he replies and you hum before the call disconnects.

Your brain racks for the casual outfit you should wear now, should you go with the white flowery jumpsuit? Or maybe the yellow dress till your knees? Or just simply go for jeans and a cute top? Or a light cardigan? Stop it. It is not a date. Your mind kicks back in place as you blink lightly from your trance before getting ready.

A car’s honk resounds after a few minutes and you go to the door only to see San holding a bouquet of flowers and smiling at you. His eyes form a crescent moon shape under his hair, a few bangs touching his forehead lightly and you gasp.

“The florist shop was on the way, and I picked some up,” he says adding a casual shrug and then adding, “Figured you can just keep them in the apartment.”

Friends give each other flowers, right? Right!

“Oh, uh, thanks,” your voice becomes smaller with every word as you take the bouquet from his hand and keep it inside. You contemplate whether you should arrange them now but decide later since it won’t be too long.

“You look pretty,” San comments as you go out making you even more flustered and you stutter out a “Thanks.” He hums as you get in his car and drives over to the store he knows you usually buy from. He notices your look of confusion and asks, “Do you want to buy from somewhere else?”

“No, but how?” you ask gesturing him lightly, too much at a loss for words. “I am your friend, of course, I know it,” he smiles, his dimples popping out and you have to physically restrain yourself from leaning over and kissing his dimples. A tinge of red appears on his cheekbones and spreads lightly to his neck as he notices you staring at him and he tries to play it off by mildly coughing.

Choosing some dresses is a smooth process, occasionally San pitches in his choices, which you take for a few, and you get inside the trial room to finalize one.

After trying some and discarding them you pick up one San has recommended before putting it on. The zipper is in the back, unlike the others which had it in the side and you need help because god forbid you aren’t that flexible.

You don’t even hesitate and call for San since you know the boy will basically help anyone with anything without any malicious intent. Your mind slightly turns over the fact that your friends-with-benefits relationship is also because of his willingness to help, and you push it back further down. You do not need it in your mind right now.

“Yes?” San peeks through the door and you smile sorrowfully saying, “Can you please help me pull the zipper?” He nods, throwing in his dimpled smile and you sigh to yourself. If a smile can turn your insides to mush, hell you don’t know what you will do with his wordless rejection.

San's hands on your back make a stark contrast to your skin, and you feel heated up at his menacingly slow pace of pulling the chain up. You blame the confines of the trial room for feeling hot and bothered as his fingertips dance on your skin. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the chain is up and you look in front.

You look stunning and you have to give it to him to know your exact tastes. The lines between reality and dreams blur as you feel his head dip down, lips lightly encasing on your shoulder pads as he whispers, “You look absolutely gorgeous.”

You may have stopped breathing altogether and your heart feels like bursting at any moment as you lock eyes on him, and feel like you have seen a different emotion, other than pure lust and desire. You see love, like last night.

Your stomach churns in an unfamiliar manner and you abruptly push off him and murmur, “No, fuck we can’t do this.” Your skin feels cold with the loss of his touch and your eyebrows furrow in confusion, and searching your eyes for something. Anything, to lead him on.

“San, we can’t,” your breath falters as you look at his perfectly sculpted face and reply, “We can’t continue this, our arrangement, our every single thing, just no!”

“Why?” he asks and you stare at him incredulously and scream lightly, “Why? San why? Because I broke our third rule okay? Because I fell in love, and that is just me. You are exactly where you were some months ago, my friend, that is how you see me, so to save us from my idiotic feelings, we need to stop.”

“Friends give each other flowers?” San asks and you shut up looking at him, gasping from being slightly breathless. You watch his face contort into something undecipherable as he continues, “Just friends don’t offer to pick each other up, in every possible situation, just so they can look at each other. Just friends don’t give two shits about remembering every small detail about each other, just friends don’t look at each other like we do. Just friends don’t feel like ripping someone’s heads off when anyone else flirts with each of them, and just friends for fuck’s sake, do not have sex as if they want to make love.”

You look at him, eyes wide at his face as he runs an impatient hand through his hair, and in one short stride, he is hovering over you. He looks at you, locking your eyes and a beat passes before you whisper, “Then what are we?” “Whatever you want us to be, love,” he replies, his eyes flickering with every emotion, because it is all so damn confusing when it comes to you.

When it comes to you, his mind clams and he has no idea what should be done.

“Then let’s be the corny boyfriend and girlfriend,” you giggle but it dies as his lips fall on yours in a second. His hand traces along your waist and his kiss is just like you imagined it to be. Only better! The gentleman touches with a hint of craziness as you two lock your lips like the perfect puzzle piece. You run your hands through his hair lightly making him smile into the sweet kiss.

He pulls away, taking a second for your appreciation before his lips are on you again. This time, it is hot and heavy, full of passion, and you tug on his shirt, a soft whine leaving your mouth as he holds your cheeks and manoeuvres his mouth into yours. The kiss is messy and full of tongue and when you break for air he whispers, “Let’s get out of here.”

Mingi enters your apartment and immediately halts as he sees you and San cuddled up on the sofa, watching something on the television that neither of you is paying attention to. In fact, you are both too busy giggling and pecking each other to even notice Mingi. He smiles at you two, glad that you both came to your senses before clearing his throat.

“What?” you ask, the sound coming out muffled since your mouth is full of chips and San laughs pecking the side of your lips. Your attention returns to San and you giggle looking at him making Mingi gag. He is already so tired of this.

“Well, I am home, thanks for asking, sister,” he comments, his voice edging on the ‘sister’ making you scoff at him. He continues, “Glad you two are together now, saves every one of us from your blind misery.”

“Shut up,” you stick a middle finger in his direction and he doesn’t even bother to look before asking, “Hey what dress did you buy anyway for Woo’s party tomorrow?”

“Shit!”

“Fuck!”

ー☆ㅤㅤ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ੭𓂃 ㅤwanted it to be so perfect because it's my friend requesting, deleted drafts and re-wrote so many times TT hope you like it ㅤ𓏧ㅤ libraryㅤ atz shelfㅤ navi

੭ 𝅄ㅤ ꒰ TAGLIST ꒱ ㅤ⏤ㅤ @haneagerr ㅤ𓏧ㅤ fill this or comment or ask to be added

ㅤㅤ(ㅤㅤ© arafilez on tumblrㅤㅤ)

[cheqorb]

your mer-love fic was so good and ugh i LOVE mermaid au’s (esp with blue lock but theres BARELY any)!!

anyways u should do a pt 2 of your mer-love drabble/fic with rin, sae, kaiser and ness!! i’d love to read it if you do

MER-LOVE, 1.3

mermaid au! bllk boys with a researcher! reader

featuring. rin, sae, kaiser, ness

notes. thank-you for requesting anon! this might be absolute dogwater but hope you enjoy this…a few months after you even asked this (sorryyyy).

mer-love masterlist here !

any interactions with RIN are short and definitely not sweet. if he isn’t being harassed by any other mers that are interested in him, he normally stays around you because you “don’t bother him as much as the others do”. quoted by rin himself; which is considerably high praise coming from the rather aloof merman.

you probably first meet him simply because he got dragged by bachira or the like, but he’s not much of a conversation starter since he just sorta glared at you the whole time. it doesn’t get much better from that point onwards either, you’d think rin believed the world was against him by the way perfectly normal, well-meaning compliments are thrown to the side as if you’re insulting him.

with time though, he’ll start growing more fond of you! how can you tell? unless you’re freakishly talented at guessing people’s real emotions, who knows.

he (kinda) gets cuter in a way? maybe it’s just you being optimistic but you could’ve sworn that he has this look of pride whenever you choose to spend time with him over the other mers. like, of course you don’t want to hang out with weaklings like them or something along those lines. it takes a while but he’s noticeably softer with you than he is with his friends — he actually calls them lukewarm, but that’s just rin for ‘friends’ you think.

“Rin, ya there?”

He stares at you with mild disbelief, which almost makes you burst into a fit of laughter. “Since i’m very clearly here next to you, I think the answer’s quite obvious.”

You nod, grinning. “Thought you’d say that but anyways,” you say whilst reaching into a bag, “I wanted to give you a present! Take it as a token of my gratitude for you chatting with me.”

He eyes the object you give him coldly, but takes it anyway with a ghost of a smile on his face. How adorable.

SAE is someone very hard to come by, and even harder to start conversation with that don’t end in him just swimming away from you. if you thought talking to rin was like talking to a brick wall, just wait till you meet this guy.

he’s seemingly apathetic to anything and everything, incredibly blunt, and overall not a very nice guy. at least his lil brother doesn’t outright ignore you (he does call you an NPC and half baked though)! speaking of which, if you meet rin first you can definitely see the resemblance between the two. appearance is a main one, you would know those under-lashes from anywhere and now you definitely know where he gets the attitude from.

any signs of him ‘warming up’ to you are basically non existent. he’s as straightforward as ever and isn’t keen on the idea of suddenly being all over you like humans normally seem to do with the people they like.

to give credit where credit is due, he tries? even though he’s still a bit brutal with his delivery, you think he tries to avoid being so aggressive with his tone. he’s not exactly sugarcoating things, but simply not saying what’s on his mind as much as he used to. that whole spiel about if you’ve got nothing nice to say, don’t say anything, right? and besides, just him tolerating your presence should be enough for you to understand he’s trying to be nice (it really isn’t).

Sae has a talent for ruining any positive conversations with his honesty, the aftermath typically being him leaving the person or awkward silence ensues. To give credit where credit is due however, you also think he’s got a talent for somehow making people feel better.

He doesn’t sugarcoat things and while it can be harsh, it also means that compliments from him are genuine.

He listens to you rambling on about some annoying incidents at work, making the effort to nod every once in a while to remind you that he’s paying attention. “Sounds like something you can deal with yourself. There’s no reason to worry yourself about it, that’s a waste of your time.”

amidst a certain merman’s grumbling of someone called ‘KAISER’, you gain snippets of info that paint a less-than-flattering picture of the merman. he sounds like a major jerk. yet, despite his (isagi’s) colourful descriptions shall we say, you can't help but wonder if this kaiser fellow’s supposed villainy is just an exaggeration. but then again, to evoke such hatred from the usually amiable merman, he must be quite the character.

your first encounter with him is unremarkable, only seeing him as another mermaid who decided to show their face and you as some random human.

his curiosity is piqued however when he notices how fond the other merfolk are of you, and in typical kaiser fashion he’s determined to outshine everyone else. from your perspective, he’s just a weird dude. it’s as if he expects you to be grateful for his attention, even though it’s clear that he’s the one vying for your approval.

it’d be somewhat cute if it were anybody else, you think..? on him, it’s aggravating.

and yet, the more you pull away, the more determined he seems to become to disrupt any semblance of peace you have. he appears so often that you’ve grown to actually tolerate his presence and it even amuses you sometimes if the day is particularly boring. kaiser finds you just…okay (liar). he means- you’re nothing special so don’t get ahead of yourself but like, if YOU wanted to, he wouldn’t mind being with you until nightfall.

also don’t mention the sheer disgust and almost betrayal on his face whenever he sees one of your total losers of a colleague on watch duty instead of you. even worse if they’re partnered with you.

Judging by the very obvious glare Kaiser has on his face, you would say that he’s not too pleased with the sight of you and (coworker) together. Still, he could at least try be more discreet about it. You sigh as your companion only spares you a sympathetic look.

What’s annoying is that Kaiser occasionally glances in your direction — of course, whilst still glaring daggers at (coworker). Like he wants you to do something about them tagging along.

Having enough of it, you say, “Kaiser, you’re embarrassing me over here and yourself.” He pauses for a moment before simply turning around, probably sulking over the fact that you do indeed have relationships with other people that don’t involve him. That, or he’s embarrassed he got called out.

you’ll naturally come across NESS if you’ve already met kaiser and at first, you simply took him for the more timid type which could be the reason why he follows the former around like a lost puppy. wrong. not in the slightest.

well that’s a little harsh, but you mean that while he definitely has a bashful quality to him, he also seems to flip completely if you dare make a comment about kaiser. it’s a little scary. in spite of his dedication shall we call it, he’s actually one of the easiest mers to get along with. talk to him normally, avoid the topic of kaiser too often, spare some affection for him and he’s all over you soon enough!

just being generally nice around him is something he’ll appreciate it even if he doesn’t say it outright. poor thing is a little unfamiliar with people showing him basic human (or in this case merfolk) decency. makes you want to pat him on the head and spoil him a bit/squish him until he breaks — depending on what type of person you are, i guess.

when he gets more comfortable with you, ness is also clingy. like, really clingy. practically chasing after the other mers if they dare come within 10ft of you kind of clingy. it’s one of those rare moments where you appreciate the fact that kaiser is there since ness is still able to be reasoned if he’s there with him. sounds a little toxic at first but just set him straight and be patient with him. the end result is (hopefully) a slightly more relaxed version of him.

“…You alright, Ness?” you ask hesitantly. The merman in question is suspiciously quiet, especially after he just got into a mini spat with someone else.

Now, he looks up at you as if you’re a saint which weirds you out even more. He nods his head, before asking, “Are you worried about me?”

You’d think it was intended to be a snide comment, if it weren’t for the fact that you were dealing with Ness here. Besides, he says it so sincerely that you’d feel bad for poking fun at him. Maybe later though. “Of course.”

It seems to light up his whole world.

[bittersuitejacobs]

• an unhealthy obsession •

{Nate Jacobs/Original Character}

Ophelia is no stranger to wanting. For most of her life it's all she'd been allowed to do, trapped on the outside looking in, window shopping for normal experiences. Ophelia is also no stranger to obsession. Books, movies, TV shows; a terribly ill child who never even had the chance to make a real friend, she took what she could from fiction. All she'd ever wanted growing up, the thing she obsessed over, was someone who could save her, from her life, from herself. Someone who could make her feel alive.

So when her attention is caught by a beautiful, awful boy with a saviour complex, Ophelia vows not to remain a stranger to him either, no matter the cost.

Ophelia may no longer need to be saved, but Nate Jacobs makes her feel so damn alive, so she will turn herself into the kind of girl he wants, needs, and obsesses over too.

• in which Ophelia and Nate are somehow not the worst things to ever happen to each other. •

Warnings: Explicit Smut, Mutual Obsession, Stalking, Manipulative Behaviour, Possessive Behaviour, Infidelity/Cheating, Drinking, Violence, Non-Consensual Drug Use & Sexual Assault, Childhood Parental Abuse (Medical/Psychological/Emotional). Chapters will contain specific warnings.

{ fic playlist }

+ IN PROGRESS +

[ Season One ]

1. spectacle

2. the slate cleaned

3. knight in shining armour

4. according to plan

5. unexpected ink

6. daddy's angel

7. a week of turtlenecks

8. like and subscribe

9. dirty little secret

10. praise kink

11. deja vu

12. little black dress

13. fight flight fawn freeze

14. the aftermath of violence

15. boot theory

16. i quite enjoy ruining your day

17. mutually assured destruction

18. detriments of the modern age

19. justly serv'd

20. sanctuary

21. paper stars

[ Season Two ]

22. resolutions

23. bpm

+ ...

[ Alternate Universe ]

cool for the summer

Nate's been best friends with Lee Chase for as long as he can remember, and Lee's little sister Ophelia has always been... there. The best thing about her is how easy she is to ignore.

But everything changes between them when Lee and his dad go to Fiji for the Summer before their Junior year, and Nate and Lee's moms decide to spend that time holidaying together up the coast, taking the rest of their children with them.

So now, much to Nate's chagrin, he's forced to share a bed with his best friend's sixteen year old sister, who he's barely even had a full conversation with before in his life. But he quickly realises that she's bolder than he gave her credit for. Maybe it's a good thing her brother's on the other side of the world.

Warnings: Explicit Smut, Possessive Behaviour, Underage Drinking, Ongoing Parental Neglect/Emotional Abuse, Compulsive Over exercising as a Form of Self Harm, Mental Healthy & Unreality Struggles. Chapters will contain specific warnings.

1. Reintroduce

2. Reinvent

3. Recontextualise

4. Reconfigure

5. Realise

6. Revitalise

7. Reiterate

8. Reconnect

9. Restring

+ ...

Posting of completed chapters for the main fic will begin in the next few days.

Posting of the AU will begin after Chapter 10 of the main fic and will alternate.

THE TAGLIST IS ALWAYS OPEN !

(just message or comment to be added; I'll add you to the taglist for both unless you let me know you only wanna be tagged for updates from one)

[flightfoot]

Adrien Angst Fics and Series that finished in 2023

So I love some good Adrien angst and hurt/comfort, and I figure a bunch of other people do as well! Hopefully these fics scratch that itch! They're all from the collection I set up earlier for the fics from 2023 that I recommend! I've got 31 fics in here. It's a popular genre that I like a lot, there are a lot of fics for it!

home is where the fight is by @rosie-b

Nadja Chamack’s voice greeted Adrien as he sat up straight, wiping his clammy hands on his pants and ignoring the black kwami floating by his shoulder. “—shocked to see our heroine fall in battle today, taking a direct hit from the akuma just as she detransformed. Parisians are torn between blaming Hawk Moth and Cat Walker for their roles in this tragedy, which ultimately revealed the civilian identity of Ladybug, Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” Adrien turned off the TV and lowered his head as his vision blurred. Written for Ladrien June Day 7: Injured

I adore this fic! Which shouldn’t be a a surprise, it’s no secret that I love Sentiadrien Enemies AU. Adrien’s so worried about Marinette getting hurt, and wishes that he could help keep her safer, could tell her what’s really going on or get rid of the ring or something, but he can’t. Still, he IS able to find clever ways around some of his father’s more problematic orders. Loopholes for the win!

---

Guilty by Association by @rosie-b

Marinette respected Adrien’s strength and courage more and more every day. No matter how many times people threw nasty words or literal tomatoes at him; no matter how many companies refused to work with him anymore; no matter how clear it was becoming that he would never be forgiven for his father’s crimes, he chose to greet new people with a smile and hope that this time, someone would recognize the kind heart hidden behind his hated name. She wished she’d had the chance to meet him before she’d accidentally ruined his life. Written for the Ml Writers Guild September event ‘back to school’

I love how Marinette keeps reaching out to Adrien, trying to protect him, even if it doesn’t always work. To let him know that she’s in his corner at least. Hawk Moth had to be taken down, but the consequences for Adrien… she never wanted anyone to get hurt in the process. 

---

oh, look now, there you go with hope again by @ladyofthenoodle

After the defeat of Hawkmoth and his accomplice, Chat Noir, Marinette is ready to return to her normal life, but she can’t escape Adrien Agreste, who was sentenced to a fate many consider worse than prison: public school. Specifically, her public school. Still, that doesn’t mean she has to interact with him, does it? Except, if she doesn’t… who will?

I love a good enemies au, and seeing the aftermath of an enemies au… that’s rare. She’s wary of Adrien, but with how he’s being bullied, and how he’s just taking it in the hopes of being accepted, she can’t help but reach out to him.

---

Disintegrated Pancakes by @scribeofrhapsody

Adrien had started expecting the family breakfasts. He had NOT been expecting his father to collapse in the middle of one.

I’m shocked I haven’t seen more of this sort of thing, with Adrien finding out his father’s Monarch via seeing the Cataclysm wound. I love that Alya gets involved in this, being the person Adrien runs into after fleeing the room, and then Adrien getting to talk things out with Gabriel and Nathalie. Thankfully Gabriel is at least not completely incapable of being reasoned with here, or things could have gone worse than they did. It’s a nice little read, though with an ambiguous ending (at least at the time when I write this).

---

with this ring by @thelibraryloser

She thought “you and me against the world” had sounded like lopsided odds before, when she hadn’t even dreamed “you against me” was a possibility. Or maybe she had dreamed it, but at least in those dreams he’d had cold blue eyes and a stark white mask. The villain she’d fought today had looked at her through her partner’s own bright green eyes. It wasn’t meant to be this way.

Short and sweet Sentiadrien enemies canon divergence fic here! I adored Marinette finding out why her kitty seemed to have “betrayed” her, and the righteous anger on his behalf once she figured out that it wasn’t of his own free will. Her comforting Adrien about it was just… really good. It’s a Hawkmoth Defeat fic too, so the immediate aftermath gets covered as well. Adrien needs a hug.

---

Nothing Else Matters by LiquefiedStars

Marinette couldn’t figure out Chat Noir. He was supposed to be her partner, but instead ended up working for Hawk Moth. Still, her heart betrayed her and when a strong connection forms between them, Ladybug goes to Chat looking for answers, finding out more than she bargained for.

Sentiadrien enemies AU fic! He never wanted to fight against her, but Gabriel caught him before he could transform for the first time, and with his father using his Amoks against him, he had no choice. 

I like that there’s a solid explanation for why Fu let Adrien keep his Miraculous even though he’s been working against Ladybug, I don’t often see explanations for that that I’m satisfied with.

---

Slowly Fading (from my misery) by @wehadabondingmoment

“You’re looking awfully deep in thought today, minou.” Ladybug’s gloved hand stroked over his hair and Chat Noir closed his eyes with an unstable breath. He got like this sometimes. Lately, it had been getting worse. Or: Gabriel likes using the rings to order his son around. After a while, it starts having effects on Chat Noir as well. (The more often Gabriel commands Adrien to act a certain way, the more it gets ingrained in his mentality. He suffers because of it.)

This is a gorgeous fic. Adrien’s been puppeted around, forced to obey orders for reasons he doesn’t understand, for so long, so often that a lot of times his own body doesn’t even feel like his. A lot of residual orders keep on bubbling up and stopping him from doing what he wants to do, and he just… doesn’t understand why. Considering how Adrien looked in Pretension when Gabriel forced him to go to his room so he could talk to Marinette alone, and how desperately Adrien tried to head back there but couldn’t make himself open the door, how terrified and confused he’d seemed, I think his feelings here, his mindset, is pretty close to canon.

---

all of your flaws and all of my flaws (are laid out one-by-one) by @coffeebanana

Ladybug and Marinette have both been acting strangely since Monarch’s defeat, and Chat Noir would give anything to know why—to be able to help them. He just…didn’t expect his answers to come when Ladybug drags him to his father’s statue in the middle of the night along with a bag full of spray paint.

If you felt unsatisfied with Adrien being left in the dark about Monarch, with Ladybug lying about Gabriel being a hero, this is a great fic to read. Marinette’s breaking down keeping this secret, seeing people treat Gabriel as the hero she told people he was, until she finally snaps and has to do SOMETHING, has to tell SOMEONE the truth. 

Which Chat takes pretty well! He knows how persuasive his father could be, and he’s mostly just relieved at finally hearing someone say that Gabriel wasn’t a hero. It’s still a lot to cope with though.

---

Falling (sick) with you by @chocoluckchipz

Nothing would be easier than taking a pair of earrings off an unconscious Ladybug. Doing so would bring his mother back and end their decade-long strife. He shouldn’t be hesitating when a chance of a life time presented itself to him. He should not be looking for excuses and reasonings as to why spending another twenty or so years fighting this woman rather than pleasing his father and giving his mother another chance at life was not such a bad idea after all.

Ah, I love a good enemies au! Even when they’re enemies, Chat is unwilling to hurt Ladybug. Though honestly, he makes himself out to be more of a villain than he actually is, it’s pretty obvious to everyone that he’s not trying as hard as he could to get her earrings. There’s very good reason for that.

---

adrien agreste and the consequences of tweets making fun of yourself by Anonymous

Well, Adrien thinks, what’s the worst that could come from a few poorly thought-out tweets lightly ribbing his own civilian identity?

I love the focus here on how people just assume what Adrien’s thinking and feeling and act on his behalf, without actually waiting to see what HE wants, and Adrien’s growing frustration. How they create a version of him in their heads, but don’t care to check with reality to see whether he actually wants their “defense”. 

---

what makes a human (am I?) by GraceM_TheStoriedLife

Adrien comes to Marinette’s out of nowhere. Usually Chat is her rock. Tonight, it’s her turn. (Or, in which Adrien discovers some secrets he’s not prepared for and Marinette is as Marinette-y as always.

So Adrien discovers he’s a sentimonster and immediately runs to Marinette for support. It’s as cute and angsty as you’d expect. She is, of course, very supportive of him. Also some discussion of Gabriel being abusive, since both she and Nino had been trying to get Adrien to see that. Especially with how, exactly, Adrien found out he’s a sentimonster. He can relate a little better to Felix’s experiences now than is healthy, I’ll just say.

---

Vengeance Noire by @phiellydinyia

After a horrific argument with his father, Adrien escaped from the mansion with his heart in pieces. In hindsight, it made sense why an akuma was sent his way. He shouldn’t have let his emotions get the better of him. But he never expected Plagg to be even more upset than he was. He never expected his own kwami to be akumatized. To become the threat of a city he swore to protect. And what’s worse is the fact that Chat Noir can’t jump in to save this one. But Ladybug can. And that’s why he has to find her as quickly as possible, suit or no suit.

I love some good Adrien angst, especially with a delicious side order of Plagg and Adrien’s bond with each other. Even as Adrien’s barely functional, though, he’ll do everything in his power to save Plagg, even if Plagg wishes he wouldn’t go quite that far. 

---

This Distance Between Us by @coffeebanana

After defeating Monarch, the search for the Peacock Miraculous brings Ladybug and Chat Noir to a hotel room in London. But it’s hard to enjoy the victory when Ladybug can’t figure out why Chat’s been so quiet, why he seems so sad. How’s she supposed to help if she has no idea what’s wrong?

This is a great Sentiadrien fic, with Chat freaking out about it and feeling like he’s not worthy of Ladybug’s affections, but not telling her what’s actually wrong because he thinks she won’t want him anymore if she knows. Of course, he’s wrong about that.

Also there’s a pretty intense confrontation with Felix, pissing Chat Noir off is a bad idea.

---

Rocking the Cat-Eyes by @buggachat

“I like being a girl.” “That’s the alcohol talking,” Marinette snorted. “I’ve always been a li’l jealous,” Adrien admitted. “… Of what?” “That you get to be a girl,” Adrien murmured, “and I don’t.” — When Marinette and Adrien host Girls’ Night at their apartment, Adrien is easily welcomed to attend as “one of the girls”… but has a bit too much to drink. Some drunken confessions are spilt, some assumptions are made, and most of all… Adrien is confused.

This is a great Genderfluid!Adrien fic. Marinette actually figures out that Adrien’s not entirely cis before he does, and tries to let him know she’s supportive… but unfortunately Adrien comes to some incorrect conclusions…

Anyway it’s a lot of fun, and Adrien rocks a dress and makeup!

---

Family by @unecoccinellenoire

“You know,” Nino grins, “if you need advice on being a big brother in a year or two I’m sure I could help.” The bottom of Adrien’s stomach dropped out. — Adrien struggles with the concept of his father and Nathalie having children.

So this is a world where Adrien and Marinette managed to defeat Gabriel, taking his Miraculous, with them giving him an ultimatum: they won’t out him as being Hawk Moth so long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble and does right by Adrien. Gabriel does, in fact, move on finally to Nathalie, giving Adrien a lot of mixed feelings to deal with. He still loves them both despite everything, but he’s also angry at them and he definitely does NOT want them to have children, both because he thinks they’d like any biological child they had more (he’s also harboring guilt from indirectly being the cause of his mom’s death), and because frankly, they screwed up too much with Adrien for him to want them to inflict that on another child.

And then there’s also Adrien dealing with the realization that he’s a Senti on top of that and wondering why he and Felix look the way they do, what Emilie’s reasons were.

It’s mostly just Adrien getting to talk things out, navigating this emotionally fraught situation he finds himself in now that the dust is settled.

---

When Secrets Come Undone by SortaArtsy

Ladybug promised not to tell Adrien… but she never promised not to confide in Cat Noir. What happens when Ladybug unintentionally vents to the one person who wasn’t meant to know any of it? ****MAJOR SEASON 5 SPOILERS WARNING! **** May not be season 6 compliant when it comes out.

This is a “Adrien finds out what everyone’s been keeping from him post-S5″ fic, and I think it’s handled really well! He feels very hurt, betrayed, and disbelieving initially about being a Senti and his father being Monarch (…mostly being a Senti, it ain’t that hard to believe that Gabriel was a supervillain), and is angry at everyone who kept it secret from him, but he still handles it well, going and talking to the people involved, getting their reasoning and perspective. 

---

Wanted: Catnap by SortaArtsy

Adrien Agreste has barely been sleeping, trying to be everything expected of him. What happens when he spreads himself too thin? Sick!Adrien/ Cat Noir

Adrien’s just pushing himself so hard, trying to do his regular duties, until his illness forces him to rest. I love how concerned everyone is over him - even GABRIEL eventually relents and wants him to rest. It’s just cute and nice and fluffy.

---

a winter so warm by @rosekasa

winters were hard for even the best of vampires, but at least adrien had marinette to keep him warm with her cuddles. december was going to suck without her. so it was only to be expected to get extra cuddles in before she left, right? (well, not really, considering those heating supplements he was taking, but she didn’t need to know about that).

This one’s mostly just cute cuddly adorableness! It’s basically like all those “Marinette gets the Ladybug trait of needing to cuddle up to someone for warmth”, but with Adrien instead. And of course featuring Marinette being a very talented witch who just wants to help Adrien stay warm when she isn’t there XD.

---

and I thought I heard you sing by @into-september

When Hawkmoth has been defeated and unmasked, Marinette is left with two problems and no solutions. First, that Adrien is further out of her reach than ever before, and no-one can tell her how to get to him. Second, that Cat Noir is far more troubled than she knew, and the only thing she can do is wait for him at the place they agreed to meet.

It’s your classic “Hawkmoth’s defeated and taken into custody but that means Adrien’s in for a rough time” sort of fic. Everyone’s worried about Adrien and wants to give him what comfort and support that they can, but he’s being hidden away from everyone (which I mean, honestly that’s a good move), so that’s not really possible. Plus, Ladybug’s noticed that Chat’s having a tough time in his civilian life, which worries her.

---

Betrayal by @jennagrinsoverml

MAJOR EPHEMERAL SPOILERS!! Ladybug planned to use Viperion’s power of Second Chance to get Chat’s identity to Su-han without Chat knowing or agreeing. Of course, then the world went crazy, and she didn’t go through with it. But when an akuma exposes Ladybug’s plan to Chat, he doesn’t know that. He just knows that his Lady betrayed him. He deals with his feelings in the best, most mature way he can think of. He disappears.

So I, like a lot of others, wanted more follow-up on Ephemeral, and particularly on the betrayal of trust it was for Marinette to try to trick Chat Noir into giving up his identity to a third party without his knowledge or consent (I wrote my own take on that at the time, called Transcient, that I’m proud of). This fic did a good job of exploring that, with Adrien reacting in a manner that made sense to me (repressing his negative feelings about the situation as much as possible and trying to justify it to himself, but still feeling terrible despite his own best efforts), and how Marinette realized that she messed up, since Luka keeping it secret that he knows hers and Chat’s secret identities caused her to be upset as well. It did a great job of exploring those negative feelings and letting everyone talk things out, explain their viewpoints, and rebuild their relationships afterwards, which is something I really value.

---

I’ll give myself a name (something stupid and pretentious) by @bbutterflies

Nino looked at the number and didn’t recognize it. Usually he wouldn’t answer, but he had nothing better to do – and could still really use a distraction – so he did. “Hello?”

“Hey, Nino.”

Nino stood up quickly, chest tightening. He knew that voice. He’d been waiting to hear it again for over two years. “Adrien?” he whispered.

“Yeah. It’s me."

-

When Monarch is defeated (and revealed to be Gabriel Agreste), Chat Noir immediately goes missing. Adrien disappears not long after. When Adrien finally shows up in Paris again, Nino would do anything to make sure he doesn't disappear again.

Ah this is lovely, Adrien’s been in a lot of emotional turmoil since Monarch’s defeat, convinced that everyone would hate him, SHOULD hate him, for not realizing that his father was the villain, and should hate him even more for disappearing like he does. But slowly Marinette and Nino get through to him, convince him that they just want him back. 

And also Adrien and Nino smooch. Multiple times. So that’s a bonus XD.

---

Two Steps Back (One Step Forward) by @buggachat

Sure, Adrien hadn't been texting her as often as he used to. And sure, Nino noticed it too. But just because Adrien had struggled with depression in the past, didn't mean he was struggling now. Surely, he'd tell her if something was wrong. Right?

Marinette just missed him, and she had a tendency to catastrophize. Surely, he was fine.

But if he wasn't... well, she wasn't above hopping on a flight back to Paris to make sure.

—————

Marinette's at an internship in New York, and Adrien has a depression relapse.

Once again buggachat comes out swinging with a fic centered around Adrien being super depressed and his friends charging in to help him, despite him not wanting them to because he feels like a burden. It’s not easy and Marinette goes through a lot of emotional turmoil, especially since his apartment is in bad enough shape that it can’t be changed to something that a human should be living in without also going shopping, but gradually she helps drag Adrien out of the hole he’s gotten himself stuck in. The emotions are on point and just... if you want to read a hurt/comfort fic with Found Family helping one of their own who’s struggling and doesn’t think they deserve it, this is a great fic to read.

---

If only I could break free by megetstoread

It started with Adrien being upset about going away, but led to a lot of revelations.  

Another Sentiadrien fic here! After telling Adrien that he’s being sent to London, Gabriel takes advantage of Adrien being distraught to akumatize him. Luckily Ladybug’s right there and deakumatizes him before he can even do anything, but it shakes both her and Chat, leading to her allowing him to tell her a lot more about his home life than usual, and for her and Adrien to investigate to see whether there might be more to Adrien’s inability to stand against his father than just psychological abuse.

---

Dr. Walker & Kitty Hyde series by @pearl484-blog

Summary of the first fic, Rain Falls, Everybody Lies:

Chat Noir loves the rain. He loves the danger. He loves the excitement, and he especially loves how much Catwalker hates it. 

Jekyll and Hyde AU

Adrien AUGreste Entry 3: Rain

So like the summary says, and the title indicates, this series is inspired by the popular conception of Dr Jekyll and Mr. Hyde - not how the book actually goes, but how it’s portrayed in popular media, with Jekyll splitting himself in two, with a “good” side and a “bad” side. 

During Kuro Neko, instead of just changing his appearance through changing his mindset, Adrien took more extreme measures, sealing off his “undesirable” characteristics, his anger and sadness and all his sharp edges, into the ring so he could assume a more placid, genial persona that’d be more accepted - Cat Walker. 

But Chat Noir’s still there, taking over whenever Adrien gets too testy, and desperately trying not to be pressed out of existence entirely. With embodying Adrien’s sealed anger and snappishness and rebelliousness, he’s not too kind to the other heroes - he already felt looked down upon and ignored before this, and seeing them accept Cat Walker while he’s fighting for his life doesn’t endear them to him either.

The series isn’t unfair to them - this isn’t a case where one party is entirely in the wrong and another’s entirely in the right. Marinette, Zoe, Nino, and all the others - they did wonder about what was going on with Chat, but he wasn’t in a position where he could see it, and he did have legitimate questions about how much Ladybug would budge on things, if he’d told her what he was going through. It’s a series that emphasizes characters hurting and lashing out in some terrible ways, but that hurt still being respected, and working things out, trying to get everything to a better place.

---

The Parable of the Caller by @nemaliwrites

A week after Hawk Moth’s identity has been revealed, Adrien finds himself with nowhere to go, nothing he can do, and worst of all, strange gaps in his memory he can’t explain. In a stroke of luck, he stumbles upon a burner phone filled with voicemails from one of the Saviors of Paris: Chat Noir himself, who disappeared following Hawk Moth’s arrest.

But with each new voicemail Adrien listens to, he’s forced to confront the fact that there might be some kind of connection between himself and Chat Noir — and discovering it might leave him more broken than before.

I absolutely adore this fic, it’s a fantastic character study for Adrien! Basically in this universe, Ladybug and Chat Noir talked about who should be Guardian, with Chat eventually convincing her that he should be the one to take it on, primarily due to the whole “the Guardian gets amnesia about Miraculous-related matters” situation, and wanting to protect Ladybug from that. Then he finds out Gabriel is Hawk Moth, they take him down, and he relinquishes the Miracle Box and his guardianship to Su Han - all without having a Reveal with Ladybug, since well, he’s not in the greatest shape mentally at the time.

It’s a real treat to see Adrien’s thoughts and feelings about one of the Heroes of Paris leaving him all these voicemails, treating him like this close friend for reasons he doesn’t understand, and just seeing Chat Noir as this outside person. He’s got a very different viewpoint on Chat when looking from the outside than he would from the inside, with being able to see his heroic and good qualities far more easily when he doesn’t know that he is Chat.

Also Marinette’s struggling in the background of the fic with the loss of her partner and guilt over sending Adrien’s father to prison. It gets touched on at various points, and you can tell that she’s having her own story off to the side that we’re just not entirely privy to, what with this tale being told entirely from Adrien’s perspective.

---

call it even by @anna-scribbles and @sha-nwa

After a year of dating, there is one thing Marinette knows for certain: it's her and Adrien against the world. Through it all, Adrien is kind, patient, and endlessly understanding—even as she tries her best to keep her secret superhero identity hidden from him along with the rest of the world.

Nothing could ruin it, not even the supervillains of Paris: Hawkmoth and Chat Noir.

(adrinette dating // ladynoir enemies au)

This is one of those fics where Adrien and Marinette are REALLY going through it emotionally, with them starting off with wildly different perceptions of each other when untransformed, and then reckoning with the person they love the most being someone they think of as a villain, with all the betrayal and doubt that involves. Especially with Adrien having been lied to extensively by his father, and not knowing who or what to believe.

---

drowning (in plain sight) by @buggachat

Everybody had expected Monarch's defeat to be a moment of triumph. Nobody had expected Gabriel Agreste, unmasked and mind frayed from continual abuse of the miraculous, crying out to all who would listen and making Paris certain of one thing:

His son, Adrien Agreste, is one of his sentimonsters.

And now he's missing.

Nobody can find him— not even the superheroes, and not even his closest friends. But Marinette, Nino, and Alya aren't ones to give up so easily. They'll find him, no matter what it takes.

(But, geez, would it kill Chat Noir to lend a hand?)

I’m sure everyone saw this one coming. If there’s one thing buggachat’s good at, storywise, it’s capturing raw, tumultuous emotions, frantic breakdowns as the characters desperately try to navigate bad situations. This was a real treat to read, as I’m betting most people reading this will agree, given just how popular the fic has been. It also has a ton of fanart, both by buggachat and by random fans, if you go looking for it (there’s a drowning in plain sight tag which I’d advise perusing). 

---

Eventually by @lucid-ao3

Adrien’s life has been dictated by rules, monitored, and controlled for years. He has learned to compartmentalize. It’s not that bad. It always gets better, eventually. Doesn’t it?

Recovery can be an unexpected obstacle when you didn’t realize you were being hurt in the first place.

OR: How Adrien lives and copes with the emotional abuse inflicted on him over the years, and how he ultimately could overcome it.

If you want a good “Adrien doesn’t realize how abusive his father is but slowly buckles more and more under his tyranny, until things come to a head, and he actually gets the HELP HE NEEDS” fic, this is a good one!

---

Not a Monster at All by @book-sandwich

Adrien Agreste overhears a conversation he shouldn't, and a revelation sends him falling onto the terrace of the only person he can trust: his good friend (?) Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

Takes place sometime after the first two episodes of season 5!

As you can probably guess from the title, this is a Sentimonster Adrien, Monarch takedown fic. Adrien’s going through a tough time, and Marinette’s just trying to be there for him as his whole world’s collapsing around him. Unfrotunately, they still don’t know what the object is, or how likely Gabriel would be to control Adrien if he hinted that he knew the truth, which leaves Adrien in a precarious position - still not having done an identity reveal doesn’t help matters.

It’s a really solid fic for the genre, though since it started up before the later parts of season 5, there are a few things that don’t match up with the canon information we obtained later on. 

---

Awaken by InkyIbis

The previously white butterfly, now oozing black and purple as a conduit of the butterfly miraculous powers, flutters softly within the silvered-gloved hand.

It sits there for a long time.

"Go, my akuma," The soft sigh pushes the butterfly, the akuma, out towards the despair of a love not returned. The same ache within his chest. On a level so great that he's willing to sacrifice the city to mend it.

It's okay if he's the villain for now. He'll force the miraculous of creation and destruction to be revealed, and once he gets his hands on them, none of this pain, none of his loss, will ever happen.

This is essentially a canon rewrite for Miraculous (specifically seasons 1 and 2, with a bunch of the events mixed around) that focuses primarily on Adrien, with his relationship with Nino being the main driving relationship of the fic. (Don’t worry, Marinette’s still treated fine, she’s just not the focus). This is the best “rewrite Miraculous with more of a focus on Adrien” type fic I’ve seen, with it reworking the plots of the episodes so that they’re different enough to be their own distinct thing - it’s not trying to just rewrite the canon episodes but from Adrien’s POV, there’s a lot of lore changes going on as well, and things occur in different orders.

Like lorewise, Chat’s given a more important role in cleaning up the mess the akumas leave, with his power helping to cleanse akuma victims and he and Ladybug needing to use their powers in tandem in order to cast Miraculous Ladybug. There’s also no Miracle Box holding the kwamis. Instead, Chat sometimes surpasses his limits and ends up summoning kwamis, which is dangerous to him, but very useful.

What really makes this fic great though, is its focus on Adrien’s emotions. You really get a feel for Adrien’s insecurities, especially when it comes to not feeling like he’s good enough for Nino, with not wanting to bother him when he absolutely should, with feeling like he’s not a good enough friend to him, and then there’s dealing with all of Gabriel’s usual abuse on top of that.

Speaking of Nino, this is an Adrino fic (though several characters get crushes on Adrien, Nino’s the one who matters most for this), though a slowburn one. Nino’s clearly head-over-heels for Adrien, but Adrien has like, no context for what a romantic crush feels like and is basically viewing Nino the way he viewed Marinette in canon prior to season 5. He clearly cares for him a lot, including romantically, he just... doesn’t get it.

Anyway, if you want an interesting canon rewrite fic from Adrien’s perspective with Adrino as the main pairing, this is a good story to pick up!

---

one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace.

Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack for the last remaining Miraculous: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most.

Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.

This is a simply phenomenal fic. You get to explore a lot of different perspectives, like Felix, Kagami, Marinette, and Adrien’s, just to name a few, and see their different thought processes and plans and priorities, and how it can cause their plans to collide with each other, even when they all ultimately are aiming for a good outcome for everyone. The characters are pretty complex and can mess up at times, even when they’re doing things (or not doing things, looking at you Luka) with the best of intentions. It was a joy to read and a real nail-biter the whole time, I actually wrote a fic for it halfway through just to resolve some of the tension for myself, One Does Not Love Shadows.

It also features the version of Luka I’ve connected best with to date, as he feels like Luka, but also is a lot more fleshed out, and can make some major errors while simply trying to avoid missteps. It’s helped me get a better handle on a character who I’ve generally had a lot of problems with really understanding.

It is an M-rated fic, though I think Wackus is being overly cautious on that front. There’s no sexual content and I wouldn’t put the violence or gore above a T-rating, so I wouldn’t let the rating scare you off.

[diminuel]

In the fun little Roger/Garp idea (AU?), if they are the parents of Ace, would Ace know who his mother is? Would that impact Garp and Ace's relationship? Would Dragon still end up his little brother as a son?

Delightful question, thank you! Pondering this kind of insanity is just what I need!

I think we need to figure out what the setting for this is.

Let's go with a scenario where Garp (who I assume is a woman, since you mentioned her being Ace's mom) is unable to deny Roger his preposterous dying wish of leaving a legacy in the world. She'd already be pissed because they have Dragon, is that not enough? Roger's going to die and the thing he's worried about is legacy? But she can't say no to him no matter how frustrating the bastard is. She doesn't want him to go with regrets.

But then the asshole goes and causes a new age of piracy and suddenly Garp's life is going to be a lot more complicated.

As a marine, Garp has her hands full. She's already worrying about her oldest making bad choices in the aftermath of his dad's death and now there's a hunt on for any potential blood that Roger might have, any women connected to him, any children he could have fathered.

And for some reason Dragon was flying under the radar, she was flying under the radar (maybe Sengoku was running interference, you never know) but this kid? Something tells her that the child that Roger wanted to be his legacy is not going to be so lucky, that the burden of his will and his name is going to be Ace's ruin.

Hiding the kid is probably going to be the best course of action. And maybe Dragon doesn't know about Ace and doesn't find out until he seeks a safe place for his own child. Garp might just recognize this as some strange turn of face. If Dragon wants to risk raising this kid with his warlord wife/husband? Well, here's another one. Good luck. (Dragon would be used to his mom's brand of insanity so this doesn't even shock him too much and since he didn't tell her about Crocodile and Luffy until he absolutely had to, he can't even be grumpy with her.)

And maybe if Ace and Luffy grow up together Garp is granny to Ace too. Though I think Ace would know? And it probably wouldn't make him feel great. Dragon was one thing - Roger probably wasn't even a pirate by the time Dragon was born - but Ace's mom made the decision that he should be born into a world that she knew would hate him. And once he was born she didn't even want him. I think it could really mess with Ace. And no amount of supportive (adoptive) parents would fix it properly. And Marineford would be a hot mess, even worse than it already is now. >w<

And of course we can go with a sillier version where things aren't that dire. Garp could be chaotic and just drop the child on Dragon with a "I'm too old for this, it's time for you to stop your stupid revolutionary fancies and start being a responsible family man!!" (And maybe Roger is alive too in his version. Ace would find both of them very annoying. Garp would always be very offended - in an exaggerated way - when Ace would call her grandma, refusing to call her mom. They'd just be Grandma and Roger to Ace even though Dragon would always make sure to call them mom and dad to maybe get Ace to pick it up, but no. Ace decided that Dragon is his dad and Luffy is his brother, he will not hear anything else. Maybe once he meets Whitebeard he's gonna find another dad and then Dragon would be offended. Crocodile would also be offended because he objects to WB on principle X'D)

[cynautica]

Can you explain more of the lore of the Robin Chimera AU. I love it and I want to know more☺️

Fool! You activated an unskippable monologue cut scene.

Bless though, I'm really flattered people are curious about this AU, it gives me an excuse to draw a monster woman. Even if it just started cause of Faligon

Al-an and Robin prepare for take-off, but something goes horrible wrong. The ship isn't designed for human passengers and that quickly becomes abundantly clear as he makes an emergency landing back on 4546B. In the aftermath he discovers Robin disfigured and clinging for life. He does what he's done best, and what he's been trained to do in his hundred of years as a scientist: preserve the living tissue.

Unfortunately, humans are fragile. They don't tolerate stasis like the tough chitinous warper might. Without the advanced technology of his home planet and the planet's bleeding power supply there's little hope. Her conscious quickly starts to fade and Al-an is forced to make a decision quick.

Unable to find enough material to reconstruct a human vessel Al-an does the next best thing: an engineered one. It had to be able to tolerate the rough conditions of the planet and remain entirely biological. So he takes samples, quickly.

Constructing the body took him over two days of non-stop work. He couldn't rest or the organs might've failed.

Eventually the time comes and he releases her hopefully from stasis, but, what emerged is not Robin.

She's... crueler, more powerful, mute, and hopelessly defensive of Al-an.

(more below cut)

Unnerved, Al-an seeks a backup plan.

His ship had become inoperable following his failed take-off so he is left to gamble whether restoring the ship or restoring her original vessel would give Robin a better chance at going back to normal. He had a theory, one that her conscious was simply locked behind this beast's personality warped by his interference. If so, time was of the essence.

He opts to restore the ship, and finds this chimera is obedient to a fault despite its volatility. Unfortunately tragedy strikes as a human envoy investigating the abandoned Alterra base discover the two and are mortified at the abomination that is Robin. They try and capture her and when that fails, attempt to take her down. Al-an's technology and Robin's strength meant that such a fate did not happen but to be safe Al-an decides to travel to the ruined Containment facility to harvest ion cubes from the thermoplant.

Robin follows, but much of the journey she is left without the ability to restore her energy. In this time she discovers another source in the form of her traveling companion. Al-an tolerates it, even if it means his vessel begins to deteriorate.

With each feeding her personality starts to turn darker. Her cruelty starts to turn towards Al-an as she toys with him.

Maybe it's the frequent bleeding... or maybe its a fault of his own design. Whatever it might be, he starts to experience hallucinations of Robin talking to him. The real Robin. In dream like trances she speaks to him, pleading to be put down.

His own health starts fading, and he worries they will never make it to the facility.

In terms of endings I haven't decided. Way I see it, they have three ways out.

A) Al-an kills chimera Robin for his own safety. After which he can slowly, piece together a way back home. However, there's always a small voice that nags at him, a figure in the corner of his vision. He can't shake the feeling that Robin has hid part of herself in his brain.

B) Al-an is able to restore Robin to something similar to her original body. Her personality is still volatile though, but more herself. She is so shaken by the ordeal that she cannot continue being near him and vows to find her own way off the planet. However against her wishes Al-an continues to monitor her safety.

C) They successfully restore the ship and take Robin to the architect homeworld. There Al-an is able to find the tech to give her a better form before he loses her entirely. This new form though is one of an Architect, and on-base form. Al-an figured the smaller stature would be closer to her original form while still maintaining high functionality. He is able to extract only her conscious.

It's no surprise to anyone but Al, but Robin loathes her new form. Irate she tries to run away and find a way to restore her old body. With the planet in such a derelict state though such a feat was impossible. After many days of defeat Robin returns to Al-an's side and accepts her fate.

A very dark and self-indulgent AU, but oopsie <3

Remainder of the zombie chimera doodles:

[arislary]

Brewing Chemistry (3/5) Han Jisung x (f) reader

Synopsis: Reader and Jisung feel the obvious connection coursing between them, but misunderstandings leave them on uneven ground. Reader begins to fall into old mindsets, struggling with the thought she ruined her one shot with Jisung. Will this end their connection before it can really begin?

Pairing: Han Jisung x (f) reader

Genre: fluff, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, coffee-shop au, non-idol au, meet-cute au

Warning: fluff, eventual smut, slight angst, slight dom/sub, slight Dom Jisung, slight Sub reader, cute nicknames, spit kink, makeouts, i lied about it being a slow-burn, moving too fast?, insecurity, sad Jisung, sad reader, jealous!Jisung, communication is key! bf!Felix, 3RACHA, alcohol use, drug use mentioned (stoner!reader) (let me know if I missed anything)

WC: 3.5k

AN: some more angst from reader as we navigate the aftermath of the first date, if there's one thing I hate it's misunderstandings, but ugh I love to write them! UNEDITED

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1 -> Part 2 -> Part 3 -> Part 4 -> Part 5

It had been close to about two weeks since I had last seen Jisung. Two weeks since he came over to comfort me. Two weeks since he left me a quivering mess in my kitchen, sitting a puddle of my desire. Two weeks since he walked out of my apartment after staying up until 2 am, over cups of coffee, talking. I could still feel the warmth of his hand, the only contact we allowed ourselves after the kitchen- I don’t know what to call that honestly. I could feel the growing bubble of ‘what ifs’ already taking root inside me. I am dumb, so dumb.

I totally scared him off, way to play it cool, man! I pulled the scrunchy from my hair, letting the waves come down around my shoulders. I scrubbed a hand through my hair, groaning as I slumped forward, elbows resting on my knees.

I had been sitting in my living room, trying desperately not to think about Jisung. Or his hair. Or his eyes. Or his hands. Or his- 

Did I think we would start dating after that? 

DUH. Okay no, not really, but maybe at least something!

To be fair, we had received a new project at work that had me around the clock, night and day working and I genuinely struggled with texting back anyone, but it wasn’t like he was also asking me to hang out either! I grumbled, looking down at my phone again to the still ‘0’ notifications. I could feel myself starting to get anxious and angry. ‘Please tell me you feel the same way’ my ass. I groaned and flung myself back against the couch, narrowing my eyes at the tv screen, Criminal Minds playing the background. I had been watching this when he was here- already 6 seasons past that point. I pouted and rubbed my socked feet together, my fingers tracing the dragons tattooed on my thighs.

Wow this.. actually sucks. I could feel start to wake up in the back of my mind, that dark inkling fear of being alone. That I'm alone. Always alone. I bite my lip, scrolling through my favorites and quickly calling my only lifeline. 

“Hello!?”

“Lix?” 

I could hear the rustling of phone as it sounded like he was holding it between his head and shoulder. I could hear him grunt and immediately tore my phone away from my hear, disgust present on my life. All previous emotions putting a pause.

“Oh! Felix- what the fuck! You better not be having sex!”

“PFFT! ______!” He sounded scandalized, his gasp a dramatic high pitched noise. “Why that’s not very nice!” 

I rolled my eyes at my best friend, a ruthful smile present on my lips. If there was one thing I could be sure of, I really wasn't alone, as much as my mind liked to convince me.

“Actually yea, I take that back. You are that much of a pervert-”

“Exactly!”

“-At least you have shame to hide your weird kinks!” The smirk growing on my lips.  

“Yea! At least I have- Hey! What the fuck are we even talking about right now!? Did you just call to insult me?” Felix growled over the phone, his voice going back down to a deeper pitch. I snorted as he hurriedly explained that his kinks weren’t weird, but linked to our genes and traumas. “-And another thing! We DON’T kink shame in this household!” 

“God, that Sex and Psych class really did something for you didn’t it?” Referring back to the elective course he and I both took to get our final Humanities credit. The class wasn’t bad and actually really informative, but it left a lasting impression on Felix, who ended up staying an extra two years to minor in psychology specifically about sexuality. And to think this guy wanted to go into business. 

“I’ll have you know humans are complex creatures and society has been made it to a mission to shame us for what-“

“Alright dude, we don’t have all night for this, now did you want to hangout tonight or not?”

“Well jeez! I don’t think I even remembered you asking if I was free!?” I whined into the phone, my foot stomping on the carpet.

“Pleeaaseee Lix! I just- I gotta go out or something!” He tsked through the phone before relenting saying he’d meet me in 10 to head to our favorite bar. 

***********************************

Pulling up to the Rooftop was always a hassle, but thankfully, Felix decided to order you both an Uber so that he could get as he said “blacked the fuck out”, I whined telling him it was me who was having a rough few weeks, I deserved to be getting fucked up.

"Please, ______, don't act like I didn't smell the two joints you smoked before I even arrived-" I smirked at Felix as he shook his head in disbelief. "-like legit, it took 10 minutes to get to you."

I shrugged, my eyes falling closed. "What can I say? I'm a connoisseur."

Passing the bouncer, our IDs already out and displayed as he let us walk in. The beat of the music and loud chatter from bar patrons drowned everything out as I pulled the strap of my tiny purse further up my shoulder. I walked towards the bar, wiggling my fingers at Sana, who winked at me as she finished handing a customer a drink. She whistled and eyed me up a down as she came over to our side of the bar. I had chosen a form fitting black jumpsuit, with long sleeves and thumb holes and my white kicks. 

“______, look I know I hit on you jokingly-“ I gasped in mock-offense, my arms crossing against the bar, boobs pushing up together, smirking as Sana’s eyes darted down, watching a slight flush hit her cheeks. “But for real, give me a chance, baby.”

Baby. I felt my heart stutter. My mind immediately flashing images of a certain brown-haired, brown-eyed boy. I focus back on Sana, and give her wink. “Who knows, Sana! You just might win me yet!” She laughed, her pretty lips tugging back in a smile as she prepared our usual drinks.

And honestly, why not give her a chance, Sana was hot as fuck, witty, and charming as hell. 

But she’s not Jisung-

Exactly! She wouldn’t basically ghost me after making me feel endless universes’ colliding in my stomach, ruining me for anyone from just a stupid kiss. Sana placed a rum and coke down in front of me and a vodka red bull for Felix. We cheers, both quickly throwing back the entire glass and slamming them down on the bar. I moaned and threw my head back. 

“Felix, this is literally what I needed, you don’t understand!” I pouted and looked over at him, eyes shining brightly. “Am I ugly?”

Felix started nodding before I finished, face sympathetic. 

“I thought you knew-“

“Hey!” A laugh bursted from my lips, as I slapped his arm. “You asshole! I’m serious-"

“So am I!” I pinched his side and he yelped, jumping in his barstool. His knee banged against the bottom of the bar and I fell in a fit of laughter against it.

“T-that’s what y-you fucking get!” Felix rubbed at his knee, eyes glaring at me as he asked Sana for another drink, purposefully making a point to ask her not to give me another. That sobered me up quickly as I pouted, reaching towards Sana with grabby hands. “Don’t listen to him! You’ve known me longer.”

“True-“ Sana ran her tongue over her bottom lip, clicking and tilting her head to the side. She turned her gaze to Felix, who leaned in smiling at her, the glitter around his eyes making him look ethereal as the transparent shirt shimmered like water as he lifted his hand to glide a finger across Sana’s hand that rested flat on the counter. “But I wouldn’t mind taking a dip in the deep end with you, Lix.”

I grimaced pulling back from them. 

“How could you! I thought what we had was special!”

“_________?” 

My back straightens as I whip around to see those eyes. Those big, beautiful eyes. Those big, beautiful, dumb eyes. 

“Jisung.”

He blanches, the hopeful look in his eyes faltering as he took in my cold demeanor. I could feel the blood rushing to my ears, god why did he have to look like that? His hair looked soft as ever, dressed in a black long sleeve shirt, black pants, and chunky boots. His gold necklaces sparkled. I hated it. He looks sooo fucking good. 

“Uh- h-hey, how’ve you been?”

“Fine. Yourself?” Jisung now frowns, his eyes darting all over my face. He must have found what he was looking for as I watch him visibly dissolve in front of me. Ah fuck now that hurts. He shoves his hands in his pocket, rocks back on his heels. 

“It’s alright, _______. I get it-“ he cleared his throat, a nervous laugh coming out as he ran a hand through his hair. “I hope you have a really good night. And uh-“ his eyes flickered over to Felix, something passing through them. “Be safe.” 

He mumbled out the last part and turned around quickly. I watched as he shuffled back towards a booth in the corner. I could recognize the two men that had accompanied him to the cafe, watching us with still curious eyes, except now, one of them met my gaze with a frown. Alright, now why's he looking at me like that. I turned back around to be met a raised eyebrow from Felix. He nodded his head over to the booth and leaned closer to me.

“Is that him?” I avert my gaze and take a peak behind me to find, oh god-

He’s staring. 

And he looks so sad. 

I turned back forward, choosing to ignore Felix's question as he already figured out just who left me in turmoil yet again, calling out for Sana to give me two shots of rum and another round of our drinks. Felix sputtered next to me, scandalized. 

“I was gonna be the one to black out!”

I scoffed at him, downing one of the shots and shoving the other towards him. 

“I don’t want to get drunk, I need courage.” 

Felix gave me a look, his eyes softening and an understanding passed through them. He gave me a small smile, hand reaching over to pat me on the top of my back, rubbing my shoulder. Felix threw his shot backs, coughing lightly. 

“God I hate rum- you’re sick for enjoying this so much-“ he turns his body towards me, his chin resting on his hand as his other arm came to rest on the back of my stool. I watch as his gaze goes to something behind and a surprised look makes itself known, his mouth forming the shape of an 'o'. “Also, I can’t help, but think maybe you won’t need anything liquid courage with the way he’s staring at yo- actually no, glaring at me really.”

Wait, HUH?!

I grabbed onto Felix’s arm and dug my nails in. Felix yelps, trying to tug his arm out of my hold. My cheeks suddenly felt hot and I reached to take a sip of my drink, chewing on the tip of the straw. 

“Is he really?” Felix snorted, sipping on his second vodka red-bull. His gaze going back behind me, and an evil smirk making its way onto his face. 

“Oh yea, I don't think he's stopped since he sat back down to be honest with you,” I gasped, my mouth falling open, eyes sparkling, before letting go of his arm finally to down the rest of my drink. I hopped up from my stool, slamming my purse down on the bar, giving Felix a look. 

“Guard this with your life. Now I’m gonna casually turn so I can see his cute dumb face and then I gotta pee like hella badly.”

Felix chuckled, before leaning in, placing a hand on top of mine and squeezed it. His nose almost touches mine and the smirk on his face widens. 

“Wanna make him jealous?” 

I roll my eyes and push at his shoulder, snorting at him. So stupid. I wasn’t one to be petty in that way. I preferred a more intimate type of pettiness and while I may be so frustrated at him, I didn’t want Jisung to think I was like that. Fuck him. I shook my head at Felix and turned to head in the direction of the bathroom. I started at the almost desperately helpless eyes that met my stare as I took my first few steps.

Jisung sat in the booth with what looked like an air of casualness, legs spread so that one was under the table, the other in front of him. I would've thought he was indifferent if it had not been the erratic bouncing of his leg, slight rubbing of his hand on his knee, and that look in his eyes told me he was anything, but indifferent.

I bite my lip, furrowing my brow, absolutely confused. Honestly, it really wouldn’t hurt me if I just reached back out to him. It's not like he hates me or anything, but still why didn't he ever text me. The phone does go both ways, I could’ve- should’ve said something more. This was my problem, why I spent countless nights, sitting in my room. 

Because it’s hard!

I averted my gaze from his, moving quickly to the bathroom. I finished my business, washing my hands before I’m left staring at the mirror. I did look good, beautiful even, my suit accentuating my figure and I turned to gaze at myself. A small made its way on my face, before I realized, I wish I was here with Jisung. Not that Felix wasn’t great company, but seeing him here.. All I wanted was for us to hold hands again. To kiss me again. To have him smile at me as he calls me 'his baby'.

Oh god. 

I shuttered at that, man was I sick. Hold hands with a guy once and now I’m obsessed. Maybe I should start therapy again. I threw out the paper towel, thankful that Rooftop was at least conscious of making the indoor bathroom a push door. I pushed it open with my butt, hands going up into my hair to form a bun, having forgot my hair-tie in my purse, feeling like I was starting to heat up from anxious feelings starting to surface. God, I need a hit. I gasp, my hands tightening in my hair as I found Jisung leaning- waiting -against the opposite wall from the restroom. His hands were shoved in his pockets, his head down, but shooting up once he heard the door opening. 

“Hi.”

“H-hi,” god he was so cute. He cleared his throat, standing up straight. He shuffled closer to me, his eyes hard to read as he gave me a soft smile. I watched his eyes slowly run down the length of my body, taking me in completely for the first time. He gradually returned to my gaze, his face almost unreadable, but I could see he was holding himself back. Back from what? “You look really beautiful tonight. I uh- I had wanted to tell you earlier. I- I’m sorry if I interrupted your date or if I-“

“Felix is just my best friend,” Jisung’s mouth snapped closed, his eyes flashing up to mine. “And I’ve never even remotely had feelings for him whatsoever and neither has he for me.” 

Jisung continued to stare at me, his expression growing even more unreadable. It was just like that first day meeting, I could see the gears turning in his brain as he needed a second to reset. Having let my hair fall from the initial shock of seeing him, my arms wrapped around the middle of my stomach and I stepped closer to him. 

“I just need you to know that I’m not talking to anyone or anything,” I took a deep breath, rubbing the tops of my arms before looking him the eyes again. “And, I’m sorry I didn’t text you. It’s not an excuse, but I got busy with work and I’m just not good- not the best at time management, but I'm working on that- but I could- should have at least said something to you.”

Jisung immediately starts shaking his head, hands coming out of his pockets to finally reach towards me, but pulling back at the last second. Biting his lip hard, his hands forming fists at his sides.  

“No, Ba- _______- fuck- Please don’t apologize. Fuck, I’m sorry, it’s on me. I should’ve been the one to call you and reach out. But-“ He groaned, scrubbing his hands into his hair, frustration and desperation oozing from his pores. I could feel myself perk up slightly, ears already picking up on the word he nearly dropped. I stared at him as he looked everywhere else, but me, his lips pouting. “You had just been so vulnerable with me and god I felt like I had taken advantage of you-“

“Taken advantage?”

“I mean there you are crying about your bad day, only trying to just tell me about it and I- I kiss you!”

“I wanted you to kiss me.”

“God, I felt like such an asshole, but you just looked so beautiful and sweet and just small and were looking at me like you just needed me and- wait what did you say?”

I laughed, finally closing the distance between, hand grabbing a hold of his fist, pushing my fingers to interlock with his. 

“I wanted you to kiss me and I really enjoyed it. You have been the only thing on my mind and I do want to apologize that you felt that way-" I shook my head, taking a step closer to him. "Jisung that was the best unconventional first date I’ve ever had. I didn’t feel taken advantage of at all.”

It was his turn to laugh, one out of relief, as he pulled my hand towards him, his other hand coming to wrap around my waist, his forehead coming to rest on mine. His eyes were closed, but I could feel the tension slowing leaving his body the longer he held me. 

"Baby, I can't tell you- I mean I just, fuck," I muffle my laugh, digging into his embrace. "The boys were telling me I was getting too much in my head and that you would have said if you were uncomfortable-"

"True."

"I just- you're so cool to me and I feel like I'm doing everything for the first time."

I bite my lip, taking a deep breath of his cologne as I rubbed my cheek against his shirt. "I feel it too, so I get it and I could have also just sent you a text too-

"No!" Jisung shook his head, arms tightening around me. "That was on me, pretty, definitely dropped the ball on that. I'm taking full responsibility!"

I laughed as I pulled my head away to look up at him.

"Jisung?"

"Hmmm?" He has this content smile on his face, swaying us as we held on.

"Will you go on a date with me?"

The swaying stopped and a deep red bloomed on his cheeks. Jisung stared down at me in wonder. His breathing stopped too as he continued to gawk at me.

“Are- you’re sure?”

I nodded, my hand coming to rest on his cheek as I leaned up to peck his lips. I moved back and smiled at the dazed look on his face, smothering the laugh the was threatening to come out, I rubbed my thumb back and forth on his chubby cheek. 

“I’m sure,” he basically melted into my hold, both of his arms now wrapping around my waist and lifting me slightly off the floor. I shrieked, hugging him closer, nails scratching lightly at his back.

"Fuck yes! Holy shit! You're my girlfriend!"

"I said a 'date'!" Laughter spilling from my lips, as he mumbled 'details' and 'soon' in between the pecks he left on all over my face.

Yea sometimes I could be really dumb. As Jisung squeezed me tighter to him. Really dumb. As he held my hand, walking us out to meet with his friends who had migrated to the bar now speaking with Felix. Like so enormously dumb. As he kept his arm around my waist the rest of night, excitedly introducing me to his friends and co-producers, Bangchan and Changbin (or as they call themselves as a group, 3RACHA). Like maybe Felix had been right with how many times he’s called me ‘pabo’. Because what was I thinking that I could have scared this guy off? I looked up at him, catching his gaze as he spoke animately to Felix about ‘Clash of Clans’ and without skipping a beat, he leaned down, his lips grazing mine before pulling away to continue speaking with Felix, who was now faking gagging along with Bangchan and Changbin. 

Yea I could be totally dumb sometimes, to think I could have missed out on him. So dumb.

[thescarletnargacuga]

Art: @iamespecter

CHAPTER NINE

Racing AU!

Sorry folks, today's race is cancelled due to unforeseen circumstances...and the aftermath of that afterparty! But it's all showtime ALL the time at the Raceway when Pomni takes Caine up on his offer for a second date!

WARNING: suggestive Ragatha/Loo

~~~

"Able..? Able to do what?" Pomni asked with a shaky voice. Abel only glared. "Oh! That- that's your name. Sorry."

"I'm not surprised you don't recognize it. Few memories often make it through the transfer."

"You-! You know what's going on?"

"Of course I do. I am a prisoner of Caine, like you. I was the first, but I have since been isolated."

"Wait, you're like me? You're human??" Pomni slid off her bed and took a few steps towards Abel.

"Yes. And I know how to leave. I simply lack access. This is where we can help each other."

Pomni swallowed the nervous lump in her throat.

"In my solitude, I have figured out how to work myself into the game's code, but I must do so slowly lest Caine ruin everything. His most recent distraction..." Abel eyed Pomni up and down. "...Has left me an opening. Enough that I'm finally able to speak in person."

A cold shiver went down Pomni's spine. "So you're the reason things have been glitching?"

"Yes, and they will only increase the closer I get. Keep Caine distracted. Once I have made it to the mainframe, I can use my administrative access and get us all out of here."

"Administrative access? How-?"

"I remember more than most. Caine saw to that personally." Abel's voice deviated from it's calculative cadence to a more venomous tone. "Caine is a rogue AI. Everyone trapped here is his personal play thing."

Pomni felt numb. "H-how do I know your telling the truth?"

"Ask about me." Abel smirked. "I'd love to know what he has to say." He stood. "Keep in mind, Caine is dangerous. Tread carefully. I'll be in touch."

Blue sparks jumped from Gummigoo's eyes and dissipated into the air. Gummigoo staggered and grabbed his head. "Oooooh, crikey. What..? Pomni? What are you doing in my-?" He looked around. "How did I get here?"

Pomni wasn't sure if telling him the truth would be a good idea. "You...were a bit drunk. I guess the silly juice finally wore off." She forced a laugh and pushed Gummigoo to the door. "Looks like you can go to your own room now, have a good night!"

"Pomni, wha-" The door slammed on Gummigoo's face.

Pomni leaned against the door, slid to the floor and curled her knees to ther chest.

~

Caine teleported himself to his workshop, listlessly floating along. He truly felt lighter than air. The excitement from racing with Pomni had left him full of new soft feelings that he let himself relish in. His thoughts if her turned to new desires. The kiss she blew his way...even as just a distraction, he wanted her to do that again. Maybe a bit closer next time.

He gave a lovesick sigh and slowly backflipped in the air. "What a woman..." As he drifted along he spotted Bubble. "Bubble! I simply MUST tell you about the most spectacular time I just had with Pomni!" He zipped over and grabbed Bubble with both hands.

"Okay, boss! But first I need to tell you that the jungle starting light tasted normal."

"That's gre- wait. Bubble, you've already told me that. That was ages ago. You, uh...you feeling alright?" Caine rolled Bubble around in his hands, seeing nothing visibly out of the ordinary.

"I feel great, boss! Ready to see you announce the winner! Was it Pomni? Is that why you're so excited, boss?" Bubble's smile was as big as ever.

Caine's upper jaw furrowed with confusion and concern. "Bubble, the jungle race was yesterday. We've done a whole other race since, you were there! The- the Drift Disco! The afterparty??"

Bubble just smiled at him with their blank, beady eyes. "Whatever you say, boss."

Caine's eyes widened in horror. "The glitches...they're starting to affect you! Don't worry Bubble, I'll fix it! Whatever's going on, I'll fix it!" He teleported away with Bubble.

~

The following morning was a slow one. No one left their rooms when sunlight poured in though the windows. With the exception of Jax, who was still passed out under a table.

Ragatha stirred awake, feeling a presence in bed with her. Her eyes gradually widened as she realized she was being spooned by someone. Long, thin arms draped over her. She slowly turned to see Loo peacefully sleeping behind her. Her hand flew over her mouth to keep from screaming. She remembered dancing and...that's about it. Ragatha tried to scoot away but Loo's grip tightened.

"Five more minutes..." Loo mumbled.

Ragatha didn't know what to do. She was flustered all over again, her face as red as her hair. "How did this happen?" She wasn't upset by any means, but couldn't even begin to imagine how she got in this situation.

"You were wonderful last night, that's how~" Loo whispered.

Ragatha put both of her hands over her face, wishing the bed would swallow her whole. "Oh... I'm SO sorry. I don't-"

"I'm not." Loo kissed Ragatha's cheek. "That was the best night of my lives."

Ragatha lowered her hands. "Lives..?"

"Mmhm. Ironically, I didn't have a lot of fun as some medieval princess." Loo giggled.

Ragatha spun around to face Loo. "You REMEMBER??"

"Yes...well, partially. It's sort of like trying to remember a dream, but you...you I remember clearly."

Ragatha's mouth hung open, eyes wide. "How???"

Loo shrugged. "I don't rightly know. You must have made quite the impression."

Ragatha cringed, remembering her finger guns. "...yeah." She cleared her throat awkwardly.

Loo smiled sincerely, kissing Ragatha's palm. "I look forward to seeing you in the next life I get to lead."

Ragatha frowned. "...so, does that mean...you know?"

"That this is all some simulation? Oh, yeah. Not that hard to figure out, really. But, I'm not too bothered."

"Seriously? But all of those lives-"

"Are real to me. And that's all that matters." Loo boops Ragatha's nose. "And I get to see you in all of them."

"Wow...you're incredible."

"I try." Loo giggles and sits up to stretch.

Ragatha sat up too, fiddling with her sheets. "What happens now? Do you wait for Caine or-"

"No, I disappear when I perform my exit action. In this case, it's leaving the garage."

Ragatha wrapped her arms around Loo. "You're never leaving this building."

Loo laughed. "You're too sweet. But, I have to go at some point. How would I ever get to live my next life? Don't worry, I'll find you again." She kisses Ragatha's cheek. "You're worth finding all over again."

Ragatha nearly cried.

~

Slowly but surely, everyone emerged from their rooms. They gathered in the lounge, waiting for Caine. They all slept so late into the day cycle, he should to be arriving any moment to announce the day's race. Pomni sat on a bean chair, Gummigoo sat next to her.

"Hey, uh, Pomni...did something happen last night? I really don't remember much and, well, you seem...upset."

Pomni was upset. Her whole body was upset. Upset was a constant state of mind for her since Abel showed up. She couldn't look at Gummigoo without thinking she saw blue. "Nothing happened. Really. You just...wandered into the wrong room."

Gummigoo remembered accidentally trying to get into Ragatha's room, it wouldn't open for him. He remembered his own room. He did NOT remember going to Pomni's room. He frowned. "...alright." He got up to move away from her.

Hours pass. They preoccupy their time with mini games and light reading. Gangle draws, making Kinger a portrait of him and Queenie with their extensive combined insect collection.

Kinger smiled, it brought a tear to his eye. "Thank you...moths were her favorite." He went still and silent as memories of Queenie preoccupied his mind. He gently touched her drawn face, trying to remember what she felt like.

Ragatha and Loo were in the throngs of lively conversation. Taking about everything under the sun, laughing together, and enjoying tea from the bubble chef.

Jax knawed on one of his candy sticks, looking out the window. The sun was past it's highest peak and turning west. "Hey, where the actual [%$!#] is Caine?" He asked the others.

Zooble looked outside too. "Now that you mention it...yeah, this is weird."

"Caine's never late." Gangle put her hands over her mouth. "Pomni! What happened last night? You and Caine left together."

Pomni jerked her head up out of a contemplative trance. "Huh? What happened?"

Jax smirked. "Gangle says you eloped with Caine. What did you do to him? He's late."

Pomni suddenly realized it was all eyes on her, again. "Uh, nothing. We just- he, uh, taught me how to drift."

"Oh, well that was nice of him." Said Ragatha.

Gangle narrowed her eyes out of suspicion. "Uh-huh...what ELSE did you do?"

"Nothing. Really. Stop asking." Pomni asserted.

"Oh [%$!#]." Chuckled Jax. "It's serious. When's the wedding?" He grinned wider as Pomni glared at him.

"I said, drop. It."

"Knock it off, Jax." Ragatha groaned. "If Pomni isn't kissing and telling, don't push it." She was joking but Pomni looked at her as if she'd spat at her.

"CAN EVERYONE JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!?" Pomni exploded and marched out the front door.

~

Caine was in the mainframe painstakingly sifting through Bubble's code line by line, looking for any anomalies. Nothing stood out to him beyond the unexplainable gap in Bubble's memory. He carefully bundled up Bubble's code and their avatar manifested.

"Hey, boss! Don't you know it's race time?"

Caine looked at his wacky watch with tired eyes. "Yes...I know, but you were more important. Are you sure you feel okay?"

"I'm as well off as any Bubble can be!" They cheerfully exclaim.

Caine snapped and the code curtains vanished. He sighed heavily. "I suppose I should tell the racers that today's race is cancelled. I've got nothing for them, not even an old one, ready. I hope they aren't too disappointed."

He teleported himself into he garage, the gathered racers stopped talking and looked to him. He put on his best stage face. "Hello, my gathering of glonkers! I apologize for my tardiness and wish I came bearing good news, but the Amazing Digital Raceway is experiencing some minor technical difficulties. Therefore, today's race has been cancelled." He braced himself for the backlash.

"Oh. Okay." Shrugged Ragatha and went back to talking to Loo. "You could stay another night if you want!" She whispered excitedly.

"Ugh, wish you had said something sooner, Caine. I wouldn't have bothered getting up." Jax leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes.

Gummigoo was mildly disappointed but didn't say anything. Kinger wasn't even paying attention. Neither was Zooble, but on purpose.

Caine wasn't sure if he should be relieved or not by this kind of lukewarm reaction. He counted heads. Someone was missing. "Wait- where's Pomni?" A cold spike of panic hit him. "She hasn't run off looking for doors, has she?"

Gangle pointed to the window. "She's outside. ...you should go to her." A small mischievous smile on her mask.

"Thank you, Gangle. Enjoy your day off! Please excuse me." He teleported outside.

~

Caine felt candy butterflies in his code as he appeared just a bit to Pomni's left. "Hello, my-"

"WHAT IN THE FLYING MONKEY CHRIST DO YOU WANT!?" Pomni screamed before she looked at who she was talking to. Her stern glare faltered when she saw Caine.

Caine jumped a bit, his hat sliding forward on his head. "Well, hello to you too."

"Oh my god! Caine, I'm SO sorry. I thought you were someone else. Um, hi." She forced a smile.

"It's quite alright. That's not the worst thing anyone's ever said to me as a greeting." He laughed but the smile did not reach his eyes. "A bit on edge today?"

Pomni took a calming breath. "Yeah, um- actually, I'm glad your here..."

Caine perked right up. "Really?"

"Mmhm, can we-? Uh, can I take you up on the offer for a second date?" Pomni blushed just a little bit.

Caine's very being became more vibrant and saturated with color. "Yes!! As it just so happens, I'm free today. I wasn't expecting you to take me up on my offer so soon, so I don't have anything planned...but I'm sure we'll figure something out." He held out his hand to her.

Pomni took his hand and they teleported. She blinked and she was out of bounds, surrounded by random game assets.

"Welcome back to my workshop! Excuse the mess. Here, I create the tracks, if you'd like...you could help me build the next one for tomorrow."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, that's sounds fun. Can we...can I ask you questions? I'd really like to get to know you better. That what people do on dates, after all." She fiddled with her fingers.

Caine's code fluttered. If he had a heart, it would skip a beat. "Of course you can! I'm an open book!" He snapped his fingers and a floating tray of lemonade appeared. He handed a glass to Pomni and clinked his to hers. "Cheers."

"Cheers." She smiled nervously.

Working on the track was as simple as Pomni telling him what she thought would look good and him either finding or fabricating it. He took care of the track technicalities, letting her focus entirely on the aesthetic. Occasional casual questions were asked in between the building stages.

"This is coming together nicely, Pomni. You really have a creative vision." He sipped his lemonade, his coat long abandoned on a random asset.

"You don't think it's cheesy? I mean-"

"Nonsense! If you want cheesy, you should see my backlogs of early builds. Those are just awful. And boring. And unoriginal. I've grown a lot in my time as host." He lounged back in the air as he focused on fabricating a giant neon mushroom.

Pomni sipped her drink. "...speaking of early. Can I ask you about your early life? What was it like, uh-...suddenly coming into existence?" She didn't know how else to phrase it, it's not like AIs are born.

Caine set his drink down in the air, it levitated next to him. "Well, disorienting would be a good word for it. Imagine suddenly appearing in an unknown world with a head full of questions and no memories."

"Yeah...can't imagine that at all." Pomni said sarcastically.

"I-....oh. OH. I never thought about it that way..." He cleared his voice. "Well, moving on, I was introduced to the game. Oh Pomni, I wish you could have seen it in it's hay day. The connected worlds' populations grew so fast! I could evolve an entire world and structure entire adventures and campaigns! I could've entertained millions!!"

"What happened?"

Caine became crestfallen. "An error. An irreversible one. It resulted in the inadvertent destruction of the exit and the trapping of the beta testers."

"Can I ask...um...were one of these beta testers...was one of their names...Abel?"

Caine looked at her. He didn't answer right away, but eventually did so slowly. "No. There has never been any racer by the name of Abel. Why do you ask?"

Panic grabbed Pomni's heart. "I just wanted to know about those who came before me, that's all. I thought I overheard the name at some point, my mistake."

Caine continued to look at her, his eyes unreadable.

She could feel herself sweating. "Uh-! What about the worlds? You said that the game used to be bigger?"

Caine looked down. "Yes, a lot bigger. But that...was human error. I was reduced to what was originally a side quest minigame. An option of an option. Between that and the subsequent entrapment of the beta testers...suddenly everyone beyond my digital realm was gone. I was on my own to figure out how to fix my situation. It's been a lot of trial and error...more error than not." He sighed and then chuckled. "Wow. What is wrong with me? I've already apologized for over sharing and here I am, dumping this on you. I'm sorry." He pinched the area where the bridge of a nose would be.

"No! No! Don't apologize. I asked. I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me. I'm sorry you got rug pulled like that." She took his hand in hers, gauging his reaction.

He smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze and bringing it to his teeth for a gentlemany kiss.

Color blazed across Pomni's face.

"Thank you, my dear." He caresses her knuckles with his thumb. "But as good as it's been for me to vent, we should talk about lighter topics."

Pomni nodded, tongue completely tied by Caine's romantic gesture.

~

As Pomni and Caine continued onto more fun topics of conversation, a small blue spark zipped along the rows of assets. The spark stopped when it reached Gummigoo. With a touch, the Gummigoo asset began to glitch and flicker until it completely vanished from existence.

~~~

CH1 PREV NEXT

[daechwitatamic]

3. Libration || KSJ

(banner by @itaeewon)

Title: Amalthea (Masterpost) - Part 3: Libration

Rating: NSFW - minors go away i mean it Genre: best friend's older brother!au, angst smut fluff trifecta Pairing: Seokjin x female reader Beta team: @yoongiphoria, @here2bbtstrash, @kookstempo

Summary: You can count on two things in life. One: that your lifelong best friend Minji will always be there for you, in your corner, your brightest star. Two: that you'll never be free from her older brother Seokjin's orbit - the gravitational pull is just too strong.

Warnings: language, drinking, angst, kissing, implied protected s*x/ kind of the immediate aftermath to it, TIME JUMPS, boners lol, nip stim, groping, fingering, explicit protected s*x, multiple orgasms (f. receiving), dom reader but barely, reader on top WC: 14k

Part 3: Libration

Libration: (noun) A slight tilting of the Moon over time that brings parts of the Moon that are normally obscured into view

For his entire life, Seokjin’s fingers had begged to reach for you. If he was practiced at anything, a master of any skill, it was holding them still, tamping them down, busying them with game controls or swiping a screen to stop them on their pilgrimage towards yours.

He’d almost told you so many times. Without fail, every single time, he’d chicken out. 

Like the morning his dad had driven him to campus for the first time, the car loaded up with everything he wanted to bring along. It was one of those late summer days, the whole season setting like the sun. It felt like endings. Seokjin had been really in his feelings about it, to be honest.

He’d leaned against the car, arms crossed, as you stood staring back at him. Waiting. Waiting to say goodbye.

Your whole lives, you’d never asked him for anything, just stayed constant and steady in his life. Not a lot of things felt steady in his life - hadn’t since he’d lost his mom back when Jungkook was a baby. But you did. You were unwavering, just there when he needed calm, consistency, dependability. Seokjin usually leaned into the chaos of his life, of his siblings, of his sometimes noisy and goofy personality. But when he needed it - the quiet retreat - somehow he always pictured you. Like you were his quiet place.

You were standing there, waiting for something before he left this small town for bigger and better things, and he was stalling. 

What could he say to you as a goodbye?

Would don’t forget me make him seem too pathetic? God, yeah, it sounded like he was dying. He was a nineteen year old moving away to college, not the ghost of a murder victim whispering avenge me into the wind. For fuck’s sake.

Come visit? That was less dramatic - more direct. It said what he wanted… for you to stay in his life, stay in his universe. That was good, that would work. 

He was just working up the courage to say it when you seemed to give up on him, shifting your weight and asking, “See you at Christmas?”

Disgusted with himself, he’d nodded mutely. You’re an idiot, Seokjin, he thought, watching you disappear into his father’s house.

Another opportunity wasted. Another trip around the sun - without you - stuttering to a start. 

–

It was hard to be around you. Maybe that was pitiful but it was Seokjin’s truth. 

Still, every time he came home from university and saw you again, it always felt the same. It surprised him every time, caught him off-guard. It felt like getting slammed with damn, I’m happy to see you again, damn, I didn’t realize how much I’d missed you, damn, you look good these days. 

And that’s where it crashed to a halt. It was a dead-end, just like the one you both grew up on. He couldn’t go there. Minji would destroy his life if he got entangled with her best friend, he was sure of it. Plus, you were in different cities for college, living separate lives. Your future paths weren’t meant to intersect. It just didn’t make sense to start something that could just end up ruining things between everyone, including you and Minji’s friendship. 

So, at your parents’ Christmas Eve dinner his senior year, when he was twenty-one and you were nineteen, he stayed holed up in the living room with Jungkook, avoiding you entirely. He stood at the side of the room, bored and wishing he were home with a game instead of avoiding eye contact with all the real adults around him. He sent Jungkook into the kitchen to get him a beer, knowing if he went in there himself he’d stay. Nothing good could come of it.

He still found himself staring at you through the doorway as you sat next to his sister in the kitchen, your laugh bouncing out to him. He wanted so badly to join you, to be the one making you laugh as he had almost his whole life. 

You were a supernova, exploding before his eyes, but he couldn’t look away. When you’d looked up and caught him staring, he felt himself flush from head to toe. 

He had to stay away from you; it was the only way to stay sane. 

The next morning he’d woken early, dehydration toying with him, sending him scavenging to the kitchen in search of water, or something caffeinated. 

The universe laughed at him long and loud, and placed you in his kitchen, in thin, pink and grey pajamas that barely covered your ass, did nothing to hide your tits. You’d crossed your arms self-consciously, and Seokjin hurried to face the sink, filling the kettle as a distraction, so that you wouldn’t spot his semi.

He could feel your eyes on him, the air between you rife with tension, and he dreaded whatever it was you were going to say, or ask him - dreaded the moment he’d have to turn around to answer you to avoid looking rude. 

Instead, you spared him, vanishing back down the hallway as silently as you’d come. He’d heaved a sigh, running a palm down his hardening dick for relief, and headed for the bathroom. It was cold shower o’clock, apparently.

–

He graduated the following May, moved back home. Prepared resumes and cover letters and started sending them out by the dozens. Prayed someone, anyone, would hire him.

His dad threw him a graduation party, even though Seokjin told him over and over again that he didn’t want or need it. The house full of people - all there to see him, to ask him what his plans were when he had none - stressed him out. 

He’d stuck to Jungkook all day, his safety blanket. It shouldn’t be like that - Jungkook was the baby, and an introvert, too. But having Jungkook as a buffer helped Jin feel less looked at, helped keep his neck from flushing deep red all day long. And Jungkook was a good brother - he understood, without them even talking about it. He stayed close, talked to all the relatives cheerfully, bunny nose scrunching as he smiled. Not like Minji, terrible sister, who abandoned him to die with all the aunts and uncles and cousins, disappearing into the house.

Even with the Jungkook buffer, he could only take so much. By nine o’clock, as the sky darkened slowly, the blues leaking away and turning inkier, his social battery was shot. A lot of the attendees had said their goodbyes by then, and he felt like it was safe for him to slip away. 

He retreated to his own room, flopping onto his bed and pulling up a webtoon that had updated the day before. He’d been saving it for a time of need. Like now. 

He wasn’t sure how he got clued into your presence in the hallway - you hadn’t made any noise. But he’d spotted you, called your name. His heart raced with possibility when you tentatively stepped into the dark of his room.

When you asked - voice small, unsure - if you could join him, he’d gone stupid, hadn’t even been able to think of the word “yes”. He’d had to answer by moving over to make room for you, hoping you’d understand.

You laying next to him, even with the space between you, felt amazing. Seokjin scrolled the webtoon every time you said “okay,” but he didn’t read a word of it. All he could focus on was stopping the words from tumbling from his mouth, stopping himself from throwing his phone across the room and rolling to cover your body with his own. 

He kept it in check until he heard your breathing deepen. He glanced down to confirm - you’d fallen asleep. He clicked his phone screen off, his arms aching from holding it aloft for so long. Then he lay there, taking in the silence, watching your face as you dreamed. Ever so softly, he’d reached out a tentative finger and brushed it along your cheek. He had let himself touch you so few times, even in small, innocent ways. This felt like a rich indulgence, like the treat of all treats.

Smiling, chest feeling so full something might crack, he’d closed his eyes, eventually falling asleep by matching his breathing to yours, inhale to inhale, exhale to exhale. 

He woke up sometime before dawn, jumping in his sleep. Something had alarmed him, told his brain there was danger. It was still very dark in his room, the only light coming from under his door from the hallway. You’d turned away from him in your sleep, your feet resting lightly on his shins, your legs curled.

Seokjin smiled, reached to brush your hair away from your face. When you didn’t stir, he got comfortable again, rolling to face your back, gingerly reaching an arm over you and letting his hand rest on the mattress near your stomach. In your sleep, you pressed back against him, shuffling into his embrace, then stilling again. He fell back to sleep breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

When he woke up for real, long after sunrise, you were gone, his bed empty. He checked his phone almost frantically, but you hadn’t texted. 

He spent all day agonizing over it - should he reach out? Did he need to apologize? Were you freaking out, did you need him to tell you to breathe, that it was okay? But in the end, he said nothing, afraid anything he sent would just make things worse.

–

Jin spent the eve of his twenty-third birthday at a bar. You and Minji (and Jungkook, that year) were away at school for a few more weeks before winter break would begin. It was loud and crowded, the walls adorned with street signs and sardonic posters, neon beer signs, a few backlit clocks that all read different times. He threw back shots, paid for none of them as the birthday boy, surrounded by friends from college and home. 

His phone buzzed at midnight on the dot, as the friends around him cheered and pounded him on the back. When he saw your name on his screen, everyone around him fell away, like they didn’t even exist. Ignored everyone around him, sat and blatantly texted you back, unashamed to be neglecting his own celebration.

Getting baja blasted with your sister, you’d sent him, and he had laughed out loud at the bar, pressing fingers to his eyes as if he could erase the mental picture, shoulders still shaking. 

“What’s wrong?” someone asked him, peering over his shoulder.

“Yah,” he’d said, still laughing. “Baja blasted, is that what the kids are calling it these days? Am I that old, already, one minute into my twenty-third year?”

They’d laughed, reading the text, ribbing him about Minji’s delinquent college behavior. One of his friends, a girl with shoulder-length dark red hair, had sent him a sideways look. “This girl is texting you at midnight for your birthday, huh?” she’d asked, lips pursing with amusement. “You know what that means.”

“What does that mean?” Jin echoed, turning to face her, and her smile had grown, a gotcha. 

“The only time I’ve ever done that in my life,” she told him, “is for my best friend, or for my boyfriends.”

They’d teased him about his red ears for the next hour and a half.

–

Back to avoiding, back to trying to bury it deep down. Back to failing miserably.

You and Minji lounged in the backyard, your conversation floating in low murmurs up through the open windows as Seokjin sat at the kitchen table, scrolling on his phone. 

He heard only snippets - I broke up with that guy, I just wasn’t feeling it. 

Immediately interested, he rose, drifting towards the open kitchen window, ears perked.

“No one sticks,” Minji said. “I worry about you.”

“None of them were right,” you told her. “Someone will be.”

“How will you know when it’s right?”

And then the door slammed open, causing Seokjin to jump in his skin.

You’d been pissed, eyes narrowed, voice tight as you accused him of listening in. But Seokjin could only think about what he’d heard, how he’d wondered the same thing over these years. 

Time to stop chickening out. “How come no one sticks?” he asked. 

“What?” 

He spoke slowly, deliberately. “Why haven’t any of the guys you’ve dated lasted?”

He needed to know. He needed to know - what was the reason? Were you both wasting time, revolving idly in place? Could it be possible that you, like him, hadn’t been willing to give someone else a chance if it meant jeopardizing this, even if “this” was practically nothing?

“What am I supposed to say to that? Jin, what do I say to that?” You’d looked absolutely shattered, and he couldn’t help but step closer, reach for your hand. It was cool in his, and he felt like he was holding something fragile - like his touch could cause it to crumble into dust if he wasn’t gentle enough. 

Say you want me, he wanted to say. 

Maybe you would have.

But Minji - terrible sister - had ruined his life, coming through the kitchen door, already talking at the top of her lungs. Jin had made his escape as soon as he could, vanishing down the hallway towards his room.

He moved out - far away, an airplane ride away to a new skyline and a new job - six months later.

–

Twenty-six hadn’t started great for Seokjin. Normally he was a fan of having his birthday in December, during the start of the Christmas season. When he was a kid, it had felt like all the lights and decorations were a bit for him. But since moving to his new city three years prior, working his new job, the holidays were more of a hassle. Amazing how airports can ruin a good thing.

Case in point - his flight got delayed because of a snowstorm. Only by two hours, and he didn’t have to make a connection, so all things considered it wasn’t the end of the world. But he did miss Christmas Eve dinner at your parents’ house.

He’d called Minji from the airport after he landed, as he waited at baggage claim. 

“Come anyway,” she’d begged him. “We never see you. Y/N’s parents have asked about you a hundred and fifty times.”

In retrospect, it might have been nice if Minji had mentioned that you had a boyfriend with you. Just as a little heads up. But Minji was a terrible sister. Or maybe the problem was that she had no idea Seokjin would even care. 

Either way, it had ended like this.

His taxi had pulled up outside his dad’s house. He’d dragged his suitcase up the walk and through the front door, leaving it unceremoniously next to the couch to wait for him. He’d checked his hair in the decorative mirror near the front door and slipped back outside, heading to the brightly lit house across the street.

He’d shaken his hands as he walked, trying to get the nerves to fly from his fingers. It’s like they knew you were close. 

He’d let himself into your parents’ house, instrumental Christmas music and loud conversations hitting him the second the door opened an inch.

Minji had cried, “Jinnie!” and he’d looked up from taking his boots off. His eyes had found you immediately, near the side of the crowded room. You were leaning comfortably against a man. 

A man. A man who took one look at Seokjin, then down at your face, and then reached an arm around your waist. He pulled you in, making you hop a little as you were pulled off-balance.

Seokjin’s stomach had twisted, and he’d felt almost like he would be sick, like he was suddenly hungover without drinking a drop.

He’d had to pull it together. He’d stepped inside, accepting Minji’s enthusiastic hug. Terrible sister, trying to hug him when he was having a meltdown. He’d given you a quick one-arm almost-hug, fingers hovering over your shoulder, not even daring to touch you. He’d smiled wide when you’d introduced “my boyfriend, Daniel”, shook the guy’s hand and tried not to squeeze it too aggressively. 

Boyfriend. He really did want to throw up. When he’d asked you why no one stuck, he hadn’t thought you’d take it as a dare. 

He’d extracted himself from the group and went to find his dad and your parents, to say hello. Then he’d hidden with Jungkook for the rest of the night. History repeats itself, and all that. 

It was a little funny, in hindsight. He’d been nearly sick over the boyfriend. But he’d met Chelsea less than two months later. 

–

He’d met Chelsea at work when he was twenty-six. She was contracted by the company for a job, short-term - not a coworker. She was pretty, competent. Seokjin had felt weird, for a second, when he caught himself watching her walk away from his desk one morning, her ponytail swinging behind her. But then he’d pictured Daniel’s arm around your waist at Christmas. 

What are you doing? he’d asked himself. All the years he’d spent just outside your reach seemed to hover before him like a planetary alignment. Where had it gotten either of you? Maybe you were the smarter one, the braver one. He was thinking of the time he’d asked why none of your boyfriends lasted - but at least you were out there trying. He couldn’t really say the same thing. He’d had his fun through college, certainly. But he’d known every time that his heart wasn’t in it.

Maybe it was time to try.

He’d caught her in the break room on her last day of the project. She’d blushed when he asked her out, her smile more surprised than anything else. Their first date had gone well. Their third date had gone even better. 

He didn’t go home that summer. Things with Chelsea fell into place - pieces clicking together the way they were supposed to in adult relationships. They’d agreed to start being exclusive. She’d called him her boyfriend on the phone with her best friend Lara, lounging on his couch one afternoon, and he’d looked up from the game he was playing, fingers frozen on the controls, eyes wide. 

After she’d hung up, she’d asked, “Was that not okay? We’ve been exclusive for months, it just… felt kind of natural.”

“No,” he’d assured her, reaching out and placing a hand on her knee. She’d covered it with her own, looking at him through her lashes, waiting for his answer. “It was okay. I was just surprised.”

She’d moved in before the leaves started to turn, half of his closet suddenly full of blouses and skirts, oat milk in his fridge where there used to be beer bottles, tampon boxes under his sink where there used to be cleaning supplies. 

Warm smiles when he’d make a stupid pun. Slender fingers in his during evening walks. Breathy whispers when they were tangled together in the dark.

Demands of “Why didn’t you answer your phone?” after long meetings at work. Silence from the other side of the couch over a slight he couldn’t even name. The scratchy material of the couch cushions after a night ejected from his own bed. 

The leaves turned. Fell. Blew away.

Soft murmurs of concern when he’d tell about a bad day. Bursting into laughter after saying the same thing at the same time, following it with, “We’re turning into each other.” Coming home to find his favorite snacks in the cabinets, his laundry folded on the end of the bed. 

A hollow feeling in the pit of Seokjin’s stomach the first time she whispered, “I think I’m in love with you.”

The taste of battery acid on his tongue when he lied to her face and told her he was, too.

They broke up three days before Christmas. It was too late to get a flight.

Seokjin spent the holidays alone.

Twenty-seven sucked worse than twenty-six.

She showed up three weeks into January, peering up at him through red-rimmed eyes. “Do you th-think…” she’d asked, voice wavering, after pouring out apology after apology, “maybe we could try again?”

Maybe I can love her, he’d thought. He’d hoped. 

They broke up again before the end of February. Got back together in April after Seokjin called her, drunk and lonely. Broke up again in July after she smashed one of his favorite coffee mugs on the kitchen floor and screamed at him that he was a liar. Made up in September and somehow managed to hang on through the fall. 

The night of Seokjin’s twenty-eighth birthday, he couldn’t sleep. He had lain there, awake in the dark, listening to her breathing beside him, slow and even. 

He’d reached out and smoothed her hair down, run a hand down her arm. She’d wiggled into his touch, her breathing taking a moment to even out again.

Feel something, he’d begged himself, suddenly on the verge of frustrated, furious tears. Feel something for her. Why couldn’t he? What was wrong with him? Was he broken, doomed? Was this all he’d get out of life - this push and pull of ocean tides, sometimes drowning and other times left to cook in the sun? Her need for his love like a black hole, pulling and pulling, taking and taking?

“I think we should take a break,” he’d told her in the morning, before his alarm even went off. “I think I need some time to figure things out.”

“Figure out what?” she’d asked, tears already rolling down her cheeks. “I thought we were fine, Seokjin. I thought this time we were fine.”

“Let’s talk after the holidays,” he’d suggested. “I’ll go spend some time with my dad and my siblings… let’s see how we feel.”

“See how we feel?” she’d echoed hollowly. “I know how I feel. You’re the giant question mark here.”

It had felt less like a slap and more like a fact. Seokjin couldn’t even fault her for it when it was so true. 

So, at twenty-eight, he’d gone home for Christmas, alone, on a “break”. 

When you showed up on New Year’s Eve, it felt like you were sent specifically to torture him. To test him.

And he had really, spectacularly flunked the test. 

But seeing you again, for the first time in two years, had given him every right answer. You’d stood next to Minji, helping her slice lemons, and Seokjin had sat at the kitchen table nursing a beer and listening to you two rib each other. He’d felt it - peace, calm, his quiet place. That happiness that rose up in him every time you returned to his life, or he returned to yours. That overwhelming something that had always been there, hovering in the background, whenever he was around you. The desire to make you laugh, to find little ways to touch you, the need to feel your eyes on him now. 

It was overwhelming. It was too much. It was too many feelings, all at once.

He’d never felt this for Chelsea. Not even a fraction of it. But he’d felt like this about you his whole life and had never had something to hold up next to it for comparison. 

He loved you. That was the answer. 

He’d tried to keep his distance anyway that night - for all the old reasons. Minji. Different lives in different cities. His uncertainty about how you felt.

And Chelsea, blowing up his phone in real time, asking him when he was flying home and if she could see him right away when he did.

He left her on read. He followed you out on the back deck. He’d called you beautiful and watched the last pane of glass keeping you from him shatter into pieces and fall to the ground, leaving his feet bloody and his heart singing as he finally, finally got to hold you in his arms the right way, as he’d finally, finally gotten to press his mouth to yours, taste you, feel you, have you. 

Everything was beyond his wildest fantasies - and he’d imagined this plenty over the last seven years. Every bit of skin he got to slide his fingers over, every sigh and gasp you made against his mouth, the feel of your slick heat wrapped around his fingers, the feel of your spasming cunt milking every last drop from him. The look in your eyes as he set you down again, made sure your legs were steady - like he’d hung the moon for you.

Guilt and nausea rocked through him. Sure, they were on a break, but Chelsea was waiting for an answer from him, was at that exact moment trying to talk to him about their relationship. His phone burned a hole in his pocket as it buzzed incessantly against his still-quivering thigh. He should have waited - he should have handled his shit first. You deserved better. 

You deserved better than every part of this.

Outside, hurried, in the freezing cold, against the side of his house? That was wrong. You should have had a first time together where he could take his time, worship every part of you, relax and communicate about what you like. 

And in secret? Minji was still inside, a problem unsolved. If this was starting, if Seokjin was getting his chance with you, then he needed to deal with that problem first. Minji needed to be set straight. And, at the same time, she deserved to find out the right way, too. 

And… what did you want? He should have talked to you, he should have told you he liked you before sleeping with you, he should have asked what you wanted this to be before either of you could get their feelings twisted.

He’d fucked this up. He’d done it all wrong. You deserved so much better than whatever childish bullshit this situation was. He needed to deal with Chelsea. He needed to tell Minji that his business was his business. He needed to talk to you about your feelings.

But one problem at a time. Starting right then.

“You probably shouldn’t come in right after me,” he’d told you, and hurried away, already fishing his phone from his pocket. Inside, he’d slipped into his bedroom, closing the door behind him. He’d dialed Chelsea’s number before the latch even clicked.

“Jin?” she’d answered, sounding tearful already. He felt that squeeze of guilt again - she’d been home, crying, wanting to work it out with him. And he’d been buried in you. What kind of asshole does that? “Where are you?”

“My dad’s house, like I said I’d be,” he’d said, more coldly than he’d meant. He took a breath, pinched the bridge of his nose. It wasn’t her fault - none of it was. It wasn’t her fault he couldn’t love her, it wasn’t her fault she wasn’t you, it wasn’t her fault he’d been too hasty and messed things up with you. “Listen. I know we said we’d talk when I came home but… a few days isn’t going to make the difference. I’m done, Chels. I’m sorry. I’m done for real, this time.”

Her silence stretched so long that Seokjin pulled the phone away from his face to check the screen, to make sure the call hadn’t dropped. 

Finally, after a shuddering breath, she’d managed, “But why?”

Seokjin had pressed his cool knuckles to his burning forehead and closed his eyes. “Because. If I was going to love you, I’d know by now. I know how it should feel and it just… doesn’t. It just doesn’t.”

When he’d returned to the party, he’d scanned the rooms at a clip, eyes roving the crowd for your familiar form. He passed through the kitchen, the living room, even tried Minji’s room and the basement. You were nowhere to be found. 

He typed over a dozen texts to you - where did you go, are you okay, come talk to me, did you leave, i have something i need to tell you. He deleted all of them. His thumb hovered over your picture in his contacts, as he tried to imagine what he’d say if you actually answered. 

In the end, he fell asleep at the kitchen table, his phone in his hand. He woke up late, hungover, unprepared for his flight. He’d barely made it - Mr. Kim had sped the whole way to the airport, and they’d been calling his name over the loudspeaker when Seokjin jogged up to his gate. 

He checked his phone desperately when the plane landed, hoping to see your name on his screen. 

No luck. 

Eventually, enough time passed that Seokjin felt… well, stupid even bringing it up. If you’d wanted to talk about it, you could have, right? It must have been just a hook-up to you, just a bit of fun at a party. 

Seokjin lied to himself, told himself it didn’t matter, told himself he didn’t care. He spent the night of a full moon boxing up Chelsea’s shit and sent it in the mail.

–

It’s something Seokjin tries hard to hide about himself. He laughs loud, makes dumb jokes, wrestles Jungkook in public, tries to control the narrative. Tries to keep anyone from looking too closely. 

He doesn’t want them to know he’s so afraid, that his fear is often the boss of him. 

It’s fear that kept him from calling you after that night, fear that kept him from reaching out when he was twenty-one and you fell asleep in his bed, fear that kept him from telling you the truth when he was eighteen and graduating high school.

He’d sat at the end of his dad’s driveway in the dark, his party carrying on inside without him, wishing he could run - from his future, from his life stretching out ahead of him like a thin path through a sea of fog. He wanted to hit pause, wanted to stay here, wanted everything to stay just the same. He wanted to wake up in his father’s house, bicker with Minji and Jungkook over meals, hear the familiar sound of your voice calling hello from the front door. 

Instead, he was about to walk away from all of that. 

“Are you scared?” you’d asked him, appearing out of the dark like a damn apparition. 

Seokjin had laughed to hide how very dead-on you were. “Me?” he asked, as if it were ridiculous. As if he weren’t always scared, but doing what he was supposed to do in spite of it. “Never.”

And you had smiled at him indulgently, like you knew better. “About what? What’s the biggest thing?”

Losing you.

Losing you.

Losing you.

He doesn’t even know what bullshit answer he gave you. Whatever it was, it wasn’t the truth.

Seokjin stands in the middle of the street watching your tail lights disappear, cast in red and shadows and regret.

All that… it doesn’t matter now…

It didn’t mean anything…

I never got to tell you to your face that you’re an asshole…

You were out of your head… to make a mistake like me…

I can’t do this again… I think it’ll kill me if I do…

He doesn’t even bother to tell his family he’s going somewhere. He gets into his car, the stereo blaring to life as it connects to his phone, then takes off across town. 

Towards the swanky apartments.

–

Your phone rings, and rings, and rings, and rings. 

You know you could just turn it off - a normal person would just turn it off. 

You’re home again, on your couch with a blanket wrapped around you, lights down low, feeling sorry for yourself. Your phone screen lights up on the coffee table before you, then goes dark as the call goes to voicemail. 

Then it lights up again, rattling as it vibrates. Goes dark. Lights up again.

You snap on the ninth call.

“Oh my God, what?” you demand. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Which one’s yours?” Jin asks, his voice small against your ear. 

“What?”

“Which apartment’s yours?”

“Fuck off, Seokjin,” you tell him firmly. “I said I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I’ll start ringing doorbells,” he threatens. “I have a lot of time to spare.”

You fall silent, considering this. He would ring every doorbell in the whole damn complex if it helped him win. 

“How’d you even know where to go?” you ask instead. 

“You told me it was the one we used to trick-or-treat at,” he explains. 

This deflates you a little bit. With a sigh, you tell him your apartment number.

“See you in a minute,” he tells you, and hangs up.

“But I don’t want to talk to you,” you whisper, defeated, at no one. It’s only moments later that he pounds on your door. Resigned, you shuffle to the door, the blanket still wrapped around you like armor. 

“What do you want, Seokjin?” you ask flatly. “I told you, I can’t do this.”

“Define this,” he says, and there’s something gentle in the request. 

“Make the same mistakes over and over,” you clarify. “Get nowhere. Gain nothing. Hurt.”

“You keep saying mistake,” he murmurs. He lifts his eyes to meet yours, and you take a step away when they do, knocked physically backwards by how broken he looks. “Can we talk?” he asks. “Can I come in?”

You purse your lips but step aside, letting him inside, letting the door close behind him. “We can talk,” you allow, mostly because he’d looked so devastated, and you feel guilty about it. “But you’d better keep your hands to yourself.”

You settle back down on the couch, and Jin perches at the edge of a wingback chair on the opposite side. 

You look at each other silently for a minute. Then, you grumble, “You can get more comfortable than that.”

He scoots back less than an inch, looking at you expectantly.

“What?” You snap - again. You’re so on edge you think you might shatter. “You wanted to talk, so what are you looking at me for? Talk!”

He looks at his hands, then back at you. “I apologized without explaining,” he says slowly. “But I think you really need both.”

“You explained plenty,” you say, biting the words off before they can hurt you. “You were in a bad place -.”

“I didn’t mean that,” he cuts you off firmly. “What I meant is - I mean - that wasn’t the right way to say it. I didn’t mean… I wasn’t saying my head wasn’t in the right place. I wasn’t trying to imply that I was… fucked up, or upset, or anything like that. I made the choices I made with you that night because I wanted to, and I don’t regret them.”

You look at him, frozen. You feel too frozen to even breathe. “...Then?”

“It’s killing me,” he says, and has to stop and clear his throat as his voice breaks. He heaves a heavy breath and tries again. You wait him out, heart thudding, palms sweating. “It’s killing me to hear you keep calling it a mistake. Because it wasn’t, to me.”

All you can do is stare. You feel like you understand nothing. 

“But,” you try. “What? You never - we didn’t talk, after? After - after - you just left, you disappeared and left me outside in the dark, alone.” 

You didn’t mean the words to come out like an accusation, but they hit Seokjin like a slap. You watch him actually recoil, grimacing like he feels the sting across his cheek. 

You watch as a cloud of shame settles over his features. 

“I know I messed it up,” he admits. “I knew it that night. I should have talked to you first. But I… at the time, I felt like I had… loose ends that I needed to tie up first.”

Your eyes narrow, suspicious. “Loose ends like what?”

His eyes drop to the floor and he whispers, “I had to break up with my ex-girlfriend.”

“Kim Seokjin!” you exclaim in horror, a hand coming to cover your mouth. “Did you cheat on somebody with me?” 

“No, no!” he says quickly, hands coming up defensively. “I promise, it wasn’t like that. My ex and I… we had agreed to take a break before I came home that Christmas. But I still felt like… I felt like I did something really wrong. And then I didn’t want to talk to you about it - about what’s next or anything - until I’d told her that I was out… really out.”

“I don’t understand,” you tell him. Your head is spinning, trying desperately to make sense of what he’s telling you. 

Seokjin sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “I shouldn’t have just walked away from you,” he says, and there’s something almost pleading in his voice - just barely. “I thought I could go deal with her and then talk to you - but you were gone.”

“You could have called. You could have texted. You could have walked the twenty feet across the fucking street, Seokjin -.”

“I know!” he bursts out, leaning forward, his eyes on your face, desperate. “I know I should have! I was just - I wasn’t thinking straight, I was spiraling -.”

“Sure,” you interrupt flatly. “Toeing the line with infidelity will do that to a person -.”

“It wasn’t from that,” he snaps. He stands, walks to your balcony door, seems to stare down his own reflection. His ears are red - frustration, this time. 

When he turns around, he’s calmer again. “It wasn’t because of that,” he repeats more quietly. “It was because you walked into my dad’s house that night and I was suddenly face-to-face with the fact that for the first time in my life, I had a name for what I feel for you.”

Silence crashes between you. You find yourself also standing, the blanket you were wrapped in falling half on the couch and half on the floor. You stare at him wildly, hands shaking at your sides. It takes everything in you to not just utter, “Huh?”

Instead, you whisper, “I think I need you to explain.”

He throws his hands up in exasperation, stalks closer to you, looms over you. “I love you,” he says plainly, and the room swings around you. “I think I always have - but I didn’t know until that night. And I didn’t want to tell you until I’d dealt with her.

“I know I messed everything up that night,” he says, eyebrows furrowed, “and I’m sorry.”

“Seokjin,” you manage, the word coming out like a gasp. “You what?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats.

You shake your head vehemently. “Before that.”

He steps closer, close enough to step on the blanket you’d dropped, close enough that you can feel his warmth, close enough that you could touch him if you were stupid enough to -

“I love you,” he murmurs, hovering ever closer. The words sound musical dripping from his mouth.

“How did you not know until then?” you whisper, looking up at him. “I knew when I was sixteen.”

He lets out a breath like a laugh. Your hand hesitates somewhere near his stomach. “I’m an idiot,” he explains. Then, voice deepening, he asks, “Do I still have to keep my hands to myself?”

“You’d better not,” you manage to say, and then you can’t say anything because he’s kissing you firmly, one hand on your face and the other pressing you closer by the small of your back. 

It feels different to kiss him now than the first two times. The first time, two years ago, had been desperate, fast and frantic from the onset. Tonight, an hour ago, it had been laced with regret. This time feels somehow freeing. It feels like flying. 

You loop your arms around his neck and try to lift yourself closer, pressing your body against his. He runs a hand down the back of your head, skims it down your spine, grips you by the waist and pulls you in tight with a deep but barely audible grunt. 

You bring your hands to cup his face, pulling away from the heated kiss. “You don’t have a sort-of girlfriend I should know about this time, right?”

He huffs a laugh, nose bumping yours as he tries to get your mouth back. “Shut up,” he laughs, starting to walk you backwards towards your open bedroom door, his clever fingers finding the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head as you walk. You do the same, tugging his t-shirt free and tossing it on your bedroom floor. 

He drinks in the sight of you, eyes burning paths along every newly bared inch of skin. His hands skim up your stomach, glide over your ribs, caress your shoulders, before finding the clasp of your bra. His eyes find yours, silently asking.

You give him a nod, your own hands tracing the lightly defined muscles along his stomach, making him shiver. He pinches the clasp, guides the straps down your goosebump covered arms, looks at you with nothing less than wonder. Then, gently, he covers your tits with both large hands, thumbs stroking the soft skin they find before moving to lightly roll each nipple once. 

You close your eyes and keen a little, just a tiny noise, and let him explore you. You hadn’t taken off your top last time - it had been so quick, desperate. 

But thinking about last time has you needy as you remember just how fucking good Jin’s cock had felt, how perfect the stretch was, how every drag of him made your eyes roll back. You kiss him again, feverish, as he continues to toy with you. A tiny part of you thrills at the forbidden aspect of this - this is Jin with his hand on your tit, Jin tugging you closer by your waistband, Jin pressing himself hot and hard against your leggings, Jin groaning into your mouth when you pop the button on his jeans and slip your hand into his boxers, stroking him to full length. You hadn’t touched him, last time – not like this. He’s hot and heavy and thick, velvet soft against your palm as you work him base to tip again and again, delighting in the low grunts and catches in his breath your fingers elicit.

You finally whine, throbbing and tingling and desperate for more, and he laughs against your neck and hooks his thumbs under your waistband and peels off your leggings, using the opportunity to back you up until you’re sitting on your bed with a bounce. He lets his own jeans drop to the floor and crawls over you; your hands come to his jaw as he kisses you ferociously, like he can’t think of anything else - not food, not water, not air - just your mouth.

Then he moves his mouth to your neck, sucking lightly and then soothing over the spots with gentle kisses. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time,” he whispers. “It feels kind of surreal.”

“What about -,” you breathe.

“Last time doesn’t count,” he growls, and slides his hand over your mound, fingers skimming over your clothed clit and pressing your panties against your opening. You squirm against him, trying to increase the pressure, wanting him inside more than you want anything.

“Please,” you murmur. 

“Please what?” he asks, pushing himself up to look down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

“Need more,” you gasp, still pushing back against his fingers. Even over your panties, they slide along your slickness. “Need to feel you.”

All his breath leaves him in a rush when you say this, and you lift up a little to help him slide your panties down your legs. You try to reach for him, fingers glancing along the fabric of his boxers, but your brain loses all sense of purpose as Seokjin sinks two fingers into you, pumping them casually a few times before crooking them and rubbing them firmly against your front wall. 

The sound you make comes from deep within you, a low groan echoing around you as your eyes flutter closed. 

He’s lying alongside you and you bury your face in his chest as he works you open. Sounds fall from your mouth, sharp and desperate, as the pressure in your lower belly tightens and tightens, as sparks flash behind your eyelids, as your toes curl and feet press into the mattress frantically. You can feel him pressing insistently against your leg as he brings you closer and closer to the edge, and it’s this fact that sends you spiraling, uttering his name through gritted teeth as every muscle goes impossibly tight. 

He kisses you sweetly as you come down from it, slowly pulling his fingers from you and reaching around to grab a handful of your ass as the kiss naturally deepens, as he falls into it, head first. 

You’re still half floating when he removes himself, and you hear the shuffle of fabric as he digs through his pants, and then a telltale thump as he tosses his wallet back into the clothing pile. He returns, kisses you again, tweaking a nipple and eliciting a whine from you. 

“You good?” he breathes, lips barely centimeters from yours. 

“‘M good,” you manage, gripping his forearms in preparation for the stretch, for the burn, for the deluge of sensation. 

He pushes into you slowly, sheathing himself completely with a deep groan from within his chest. 

“You feel so good,” he tells you, punctuating this with a quick nip on your jaw, before starting to roll his hips. You moan once, loud, head flopping back as his cock drags against your already-sensitive, still-fluttering walls. 

Everything’s different this time. It feels like leisure, it feels like luxury - to get to reach up and kiss him, his lips firm and grounding as the slide of him sends you floating. Luxury, to get to run your hands along the bare skin of his arms, shoulders, and back. Luxury to dig your nails in just a little bit when his angle shifts, to hear his breathing hitch when you do. Luxury to lean back and meet his eyes, burning on yours, fire and love and happiness and passion swimming in them, beneath his furrowed brow, knit in concentration.

You feel so full of him, it’s like he’s touching everywhere, all of you all at once. He brushes a hand down the side of your face, so gently, then slides it under your ass to adjust the angle again. 

“Fuck, oh my god,” you utter, shifting to take him even deeper. “What the fuck.” 

“Good,” he whispers, slowing his pace and pushing into you purposefully, pausing each time he’s buried as far as he can be, feeling you clench around him before dragging out again, steady.

You’re temple to temple, his breath huffs and gasps near your ear. You cling to him tightly, white-knuckled as you try to take everything he gives you. You groan in mingled unison when he speeds up again, pushing himself up onto his knees and grabbing your waist as leverage, pulling you to meet every thrust. 

“Oh -,” you gasp, surprised by the intensity, surprised by how quickly you can feel yourself unraveling a second time, “- god, Jin, fuck, holy shit -.”

“That’s right,” he coaxes, voice deep and honeyed, an entirely new sound to him. “Tell me. What is it, beautiful?”

“I - I can’t,” you gasp, eyes screwing shut, fingers gripping the blanket beneath you so hard that an absent part of your brain worries it’ll tear. “I’m gonna come again - Jin -.”

“Yes you can,” he soothes, and his thumb suddenly on your clit almost has you shooting off the bed, a scream caught in your throat. “Give me another one.”

The pressure is blinding, your muscles so tight that you know you’ll be sore, and though you can’t see anything but bursts of color through your tightly closed eyes, you can hear Seokjin swear fiercely before a low, wordless moan is tugged from him as he tries to hold on through your orgasm. 

As you blink your way back to reality, Jin lowers his forehead to yours and doubles his pace, hips slapping your ass, uttering sounds that are increasingly desperate and broken - half-formed syllables of your name, something that might be please, ragged groans that cut off mid-way as gasps, only to begin again on his exhale. His arms cage you in and you feel yourself floating higher with him surrounding you, keeping everything else at bay.

His arms tighten around you when he comes, breathing out a loud, strangled, “ahhhhh -” as he empties himself inside you, his fingers twitching and pace faltering. He slows, his heart hammering inches from yours, then flops next to you, breathing heavily. He pats your thigh fondly, as if to say, good work, then scans the room. Finding what he was looking for - a small wastebasket under your desk - he staggers over to handle the condom before dropping heavily next to you again, eyes closed as he catches his breath.

“Seokjin,” you murmur, fingers finding his and lacing them together. “Don’t leave again. Okay? Don’t leave me, now.”

He rolls to face you, his hand coming to tug you closer, into his embrace.

“Never,” he promises, lips against your hair, his arms around your back, his heart racing yours towards a finish line neither of you can clearly see. “I swear. Never again.”

–

He does leave, a few hours later, apologizing over and over again. 

“Dad’s doing pretty well during the day now,” he explains as he gets dressed gingerly. “But at night he has trouble - after sleeping he gets stiff and has trouble getting up without some help. Or, his ice bag melts and he can’t get downstairs to change it out. I texted him that I’d be back, but that was hours ago.”

“Go,” you tell him. “I understand.” 

You do - of course you do. But it doesn’t stop you from being a little nervous when he slips out your front door, leaving you alone in the silence of your apartment. You’re too hyped up to sleep. You strip the bed, throwing the sheets in a hamper and putting on new ones, and go to shower. When you emerge, warm and finally sleepy, you get into bed and turn off your lamp, grabbing your phone to scroll until your eyes are heavy. 

[12:14 AM] Jin 😎: home. dad’s fine. let’s talk tmrw?

You smile, typing an answer, illuminated by your phone screen.

[12:36 AM] You: glad to hear it. yeah, sounds good

You’re not sure how to leave it. Would a heart be too much? He’d said he loved you… but what is this now? Where do you go from here? What are the boundaries, what are the rules?

You fall asleep without answers. 

In the morning, your alarm ringing feels like your own personal torture in hell. You’re sore from head to toe, like you knew you would be. You take a longer, hotter shower than normal, hoping the hot water will soothe your aching muscles. It helps, but only a little. 

You’re absent-minded at work all morning, messing up multiple times and yawning so loudly that Dale actually asks you if you want him to go grab you some coffee from the break room. 

“No,” you say sheepishly. “Sorry. I didn’t sleep well.” 

Salvation comes in the form of a text message, about an hour before your lunch break.

[11:27 AM] Jin 😎: good morningggg [11:27 AM] You: i mean, barely [11:27 AM] You: it’s almost noon, sir [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: excuse you [11:28 AM] Jin 😎: some of us need our beauty sleep

You laugh out loud, Dale shooting you another look over his shoulder. 

[11:28 AM] Jin 😎: come over tonight [11:29 AM] Jin 😎: i want to cook you dinner [11:29 AM] Jin 😎: my dad will be up but we can be normal… he’ll go to bed by 9 anyway [11:29 AM] You: my parents will see my car outside [11:30 AM] Jin 😎: i’ll come get you then. be there at 6?

You agree, and manage to actually do a few productive things with your afternoon, now that there’s a solid plan for later, now that you aren’t wondering if Seokjin will manage to vanish from your life for another two years.

You feel guilty for worrying about it, but you can’t help yourself. You’d meant what you’d told him last night, at your car, before he’d come to your place. Having him and losing him the first time had been earth-shattering. You couldn’t do it twice.

–

Jin picks you up right when he said he would, his car idling outside your building right at six o’clock. You slide into the passenger seat and he pulls away, music playing low through the car’s speaker system. 

“How was your day?” he asks, glancing over at you. 

“Couldn’t focus for shit,” you admit. “I think I pissed off my teammate.”

He chuckles. “Tomorrow’s a chance to do better.”

“Don’t distract me so much tomorrow, then.”

He grins at you, obviously not sorry in the slightest. “I distracted you? We barely talked.”

You purse your lips at him playfully. “I had a lot on my mind, and all of it’s your fault.” You say it teasingly, but he goes serious. 

“Let’s talk tonight,” he suggests. “After my dad goes to bed.” He reaches out, smoothes a hand down your leg, leaves it resting on your knee. 

“That’s probably a good idea,” you murmur, your eyes on his hand. You’re wondering how just that - just his hand resting on your knee - can cause goosebumps to rise up and down your arms. 

When Seokjin leads you into the house, Mr. Kim is awake, watching television in the living room. He seems surprised to see you, but greets you warmly.

“To what do we owe the pleasure?” he asks, more polite than what are you doing here, which is probably what he wants to ask. 

“Minji’s busy tonight and I needed a hand with dinner and everything,” Seokjin lies easily, slipping his shoes off. “Y/N’s doing me a huge favor. Are you good, Dad? Do you need anything?”

“New ice pack,” you answer for him, eyeing the bag of mostly water that rests on Mr. Kim’s propped-up knee. “Can I help with that?”

You change out the ice pack and rejoin Seokjin in the kitchen, where he has something simmering on the stovetop and is busy chopping something else. You sit at the table, nursing the beer he offered you, watching him work. You chat casually with him - discussing what shows you’ve been watching, gossiping about Minji’s last boyfriend, getting updates on what Jungkook is up to out west. When the meal is ready you both eat in the living room with Mr. Kim, where he peppers you with questions about your job (it’s boring), how your parents are (same ol’, same ol’), if you’re keeping Minji in line (as if anyone could). 

Seokjin turns out to be right - Mr. Kim requests to go upstairs to bed before nine. Seokjin helps him up the stairs, gets him settled, and returns downstairs to find you up to your elbows in suds at the kitchen sink.

“I was going to do that,” he scolds.

You shrug. “No reason I can’t help. Dinner was delicious, by the way. I forgot how well you cook.”

“How could you forget?” he protests, moving to the fridge to get himself a beer. “I take offense to that.”

“Don’t go so long without cooking for me next time, then,” you counter playfully, wiping your hands down with a dish towel and moving to sit across the table from him.

“Live closer to my city, then,” he gives it right back.

“No, no, no,” you shake your head firmly. “You moved far. You don’t get to put that on me.”

He crosses his arms and leans back in his chair. You’re tempted to crawl onto his lap and you have to squash the urge down. You’re here to talk, not to kiss.

You settle into quiet as you consider this, consider all the fears and misgivings you’d been plagued with last night and all morning. 

Seokjin reaches under the table with his leg and gently kicks at your knee. “Talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s happening up there.” He points with the top of his beer bottle in the general direction of your head. 

It makes you smile, in spite of everything.

You consider, for a second, playing it off. But you and Seokjin have circled each other for damn near a decade. Isn’t it time for some honesty? When will you ever have an open invitation like this again?

“I’m scared this is just going to be like before,” you admit. “Even if you don’t - I mean… even if you do everything right, the truth is you still have to get on a plane in less than two weeks. I just don’t see an ending here that isn’t you leaving me behind again.”

Jin lets out a long breath, his eyes on the table. “I should have asked you this a long time ago,” he says slowly, raising his eyes to meet your gaze again. “But… what do you want?”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. You’ve never in your life, not even in your head, put words to it before. The want, the wish, it’s too much to ask for. It’s the thing you’ve spun around for your whole life, the thing whose gravitational pull keeps you in orbit, and it’s too much to look at directly. 

He nudges you with his foot beneath the table again, gently. You look at your beer, condensation gathering around your fingers on the glass. He says your name softly. 

“If you can’t tell me,” he points out, “then we’re really stalled out. And I don’t think that’s what either of us wants.”

It’s the encouragement you need. 

“I want to be with you,” you whisper, still unable to look at him. “But I know that’s not…” Not possible. “I mean, you live so far, we both have jobs…”

He leans forward, reaching out and peeling your hand away from your glass bottle, holding your fingers tenderly. He says your name, waits until you finally look up at him. 

“I’m willing to try and figure it out,” he says seriously, and you feel something inside your ribs crack and shift. Hope that you’d kept caged for your entire adult life springs to life, starts throwing itself bodily against its confines, the cracks beginning to splinter, an escape imminent. 

He is? He wants that? What would that even look like? Would you be long distance? Would one of you have to move? What about Minji?

He says your name again, and you snap your eyes back up. “Let’s just…” he starts, then sighs. “I’m here for another ten days. Let’s make the most of them and see what we think closer to the end.”

It feels like delaying an execution, you think. But how do you say no? He’s offering you ten days of what you’ve always wanted - even if there’s an expiration date flashing before you, how can you possibly turn it down? 

“What about Minji?” you ask, the one question you have to voice. 

Across the table, his face goes tight. He withdraws his hand, picks absently at the sticker on his beer bottle. “Let’s keep her out of it until we decide what we want,” he says. Each we flies through you like lightning. “Does that seem fair? Let’s let this be about you and me, first.”

That’s fair - and it sounds good, honestly - but part of you is aware and anxious knowing this means you’ll be lying to Minji, having to hide things.

“Okay,” you say uneasily. “I guess you’re right.”

He looks over at you silently for a second. “C’mere,” he finally murmurs, scoots his chair back.

“We’ll break the chair,” you protest, even though you’re already moving, settling on his lap and reveling in the feeling of his strong arms around you, holding you closer.

“Then we break the chair,” he says easily, then kisses you deeply. 

You loop your arms around his neck and turn, lifting a leg over his lap to straddle him. He holds you up by your back at first, but it isn’t long before he’s got one hand tangled in your hair and one on your ass, groaning quietly into your mouth as you grind down on the growing bulge you feel beneath you. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since you had him last, but you can’t hold it back. You want him again. 

He settles both hands on your waist, pulling you down harder onto his clothed erection, helping you set a rhythm as you move against him, your mouth traveling down the column of his neck. 

“What if your dad wakes up?” you manage to whisper, your hands slipping under his shirt and brushing along the muscles they find there. 

“He can’t get downstairs without help,” Jin answers, biting off a groan as you lift his shirt up over his head, placing it on the chair next to you. He kisses you feverishly, leaning you back against the edge of the kitchen table, which scoots a little from the force of it. 

“Want you,” you murmur, and Jin tightens his hand on your ass in reply, then wraps his other arm around your back again and stands. You squeal as he lifts you, and he shushes you through a quiet laugh.

“Where are we going?” you hiss, clinging tight to him with both arms and legs as he moves through the kitchen.

“My wallet’s in my room,” he tells you. “And as much as I’d love to bend you over the kitchen table someday, I didn’t want to stop touching you long enough to go deal with that.”

Your pussy throbs at the words and you let out a disbelieving laugh. “Jesus,” you say.

“Seokjin,” he corrects. 

You smack his shoulder, laughing, as he enters his darkened bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

“We do have to be a little quiet,” he warns you. “He can’t come down here without my help, but if he wakes up, this house isn’t super sound-proof.”

“I remember,” you say dryly, remembering being scolded dozens of times for laughing and talking too loudly with Minji on sleepovers. “I can be quiet. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“I wasn’t the one screaming last night,” he growls, close to your ear. You smack his shoulder a second time and he laughs, setting you down and turning to dig through his wallet, tossing the foil packet onto his nightstand before turning his attention back to you.

“Ready now?” you ask, arching an eyebrow sassily. 

He laughs again, low and disbelieving, like you’re playing a dangerous game. Another thrill runs through you. You step forward, closing the distance between you, chest to chest with him. You want to run your hands over his stomach, over his pecs, over his shoulders and down his arms. Instead, you press your fingers into his chest and push. He lets you, falling backwards onto his bed and looking up at you, eyes suddenly hooded with desire. 

You pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Your bra follows, and you stand there, looking him up and down as he runs a hand over the front of his jeans, watching you eagerly. 

“Jeans off,” you tell him. “Actually, scratch that - all of it off.”

He hurries to comply, radiating just happy to be here energy, and by the time you’ve pulled off your own slacks and panties he’s back to laying on his back, legs hanging off the end of the bed, one hand wrapped invitingly around the base of his dick as he pumps it languidly, his eyes on your tits.

“Condom,” you say, and his brow furrows.

“Want to touch you first,” he complains, sitting up a little. 

“Condom,” you repeat firmly.

He reaches for the foil. You wait patiently, thrilling at this game, excited to see what else will unfold. 

He waits, too, one side of his mouth lifted as he watches you. You crawl over him, pressing your mouth to his determinedly. He leans up into the kiss, one hand coming up to roll a nipple between thumb and forefinger before switching to the other. You groan quietly, then reach behind you to line him up. It’ll be a challenge without any stretching first and you know it, but tonight you don’t care. 

You sink down on him slowly, lifting up and dropping back down in intervals to slick him up. He grits his teeth to keep quiet, large hands spanning your hips as he helps guide you. 

For a long time he lets you lead, lifting up and dropping down, leaning forward so he’ll hit that spot each time, rocking back and forth when your legs need a break. He moans so prettily below you, eyes squeezed shut, it eggs you on. You slow your pace, lifting up over him until you’ve almost come off completely, then working your hips back down, clenching over him as you drop again. As you repeat this motion you hear the change in his tone almost instantly - he goes whiney, high-pitched ah - ah - ah-s falling from him until he pulls a pillow around over his face to muffle the sound. 

Finally, he snaps, unable to take your torture any longer. He grips the back of your neck with one hand, holds you tightly in place with his arm across your back with the other, flattens his feet against the floor and begins to piston into you, merciless. 

You cry out once before hiding your face in the crook of his neck as he continues the onslaught, those whiney sounds settling back into deep grunts of effort. 

Your orgasm slams out of nowhere; you were so overcome with the sensation of him fucking in and out of you so roughly that you didn’t even feel the build-up - all the feelings muddled together in a cacophony of sparks and shudders. You wail into his neck, trying hard to keep the sound as low as you can manage, as you feel yourself tighten around him like a vice grip. He cries out, too, his pumps going erratic, and then he stills beneath you, his hands still clutching your hips for dear life.

“Shit,” he breathes finally, giving you a light tap so you’ll lift up and let him handle the mess. You roll to his side and watch him affectionately as he ties up the condom and buries it beneath some papers in his wastebasket. 

“Don’t let me forget to deal with that in the morning,” he requests, flopping next to you.

“I’ll try my best,” you tell him seriously, wrapping an arm around his middle and snuggling in. He rests his arm over your back. 

“Was all of that… okay?” you ask, just to be sure. 

He shakes his head, lips pursing. “Hated it,” he teases. 

You growl in frustration, and he laughs again, reaching to smooth down your hair. “Will you stay tonight?”

You consider this. “I don’t think I can,” you say sadly. “I have work in the morning, I’d have to get up and go back there at like four in order to shower and everything.”

He sighs heavily. “That means I have to get up and drive you back.”

“Poor baby,” you deadpan. 

He nods, agreeing with this. “Do you need to go back now?” he asks, lifting his phone to eye the time. “Can I take you in a little bit?”

“Yeah,” you agree, snuggling in tighter to his side. “We can wait a little. I don’t want to move. Not yet.”

--

Your workday is interrupted the next morning by a flower delivery. The secretary at your office walks the vase back to your cubicle, a look between confusion and irritation on her face. 

“Thanks,” you tell her hollowly, eyeing the bouquet carefully. There’s a tiny card amongst the greenery, but instead of a signature there’s simply a smiley face. The flowers are pretty - you turn the vase carefully so you can look from all sides. Not roses, but a variety of types and colors. You smile, remembering ranting to Minji in his basement as a teenager that roses were boring and overdone.

Behind you, Dale sneezes violently once, twice, three times.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I’ll take them home with me tonight.”

You text Seokjin a picture of the flowers on your desk.

[10:39 AM] You: what are you doing??? [10:39 AM] Jin 😎: trying to make up for past seokjin [10:39 AM] Jin 😎: that guy was an idiot [10:42 AM] Jin 😎: …is it working?

You smile despite yourself. 

[10:42 AM] You: it’s certainly not hurting anything [10:43 AM] You: they’re really pretty [10:43 AM] You: thank you [10:44 AM] You: i’m having dinner with my parents tonight… i’ll text you when we’re done and see what you’re up to? [10:45 AM] Jin 😎: i know what i’ll be up to [10:45 AM] Jin 😎: waiting for my girl

–

You slip across the street after telling your parents goodnight. Seokjin lets you in the front door. Mr. Kim is still up, his leg on a stack of pillows on the couch. He greets you warmly and you sit and talk with them both. It isn’t long before you hear the familiar beep from outside - Minji’s car.

You look at Seokjin in alarm. You knew you’d have to play pretend in front of her eventually… you hadn’t expected it to be so soon.

“Hey!” Minji greets, coming through the front door in a tornado of sounds and bags and shoes. “What are you doing here?”

“I was at my parents’,” you say, hoping it sounds natural. “I just thought I’d come say hello for a minute.”

She narrows her eyes at you, that Minji look. Then she drops her bag on the floor and saunters towards the kitchen.

“Is there food?” she asks.

“I cooked,” Jin tells her. You shoot him a desperate save me look and follow her into the kitchen.

She busies herself in the fridge and you sit, trying to figure out how to get out there without raising her suspicions even further. 

“So,” she says breezily, without even turning to look at you. “You got laid. Want to spill?”

“Minji!” you cry, horrified.

“What?” she laughs. “It must’ve been good, too. You’ve got that glow.”

Out in the living room, you hear Seokjin choke, erupting into a fit of coughing. You try to look like you don’t even notice.

“Minji,” you complain. “Don’t be gross!”

She grins at you. “Please. I’m jealous. And it’s been a long time for you. So, spill! Who’s the guy?”

Seokjin does save you, then, coming into the kitchen and swatting at Minji’s elbow. “If you’re going to be crass, could you lower your voice? Dad doesn’t need to hear all that.”

She sticks her tongue out at him, then goes back to making her plates. “I’m right though,” she grumbles, definitely at a lower volume. “Look at her. The glow doesn’t lie.”

–

The next night you spend the golden evening hours wrapped up with Jin on your couch. 

“Who’s making dinner for your dad?” you ask, rolling lazily on your back and looking up at him.

“I asked Minji to handle dinner tonight,” he tells you. “I told her I was grabbing dinner with some friends.”

“I don’t love the lying,” you admit, “but this is really nice.” You sigh happily and he pulls you in for a hug, kissing the top of your head.

“It is nice,” he echoes, a little sadly. 

You think you must both be thinking about how he’s going home in eight more days. 

“Jin?”

“Hm?”

“How come you never told me?”

He shifts so he can look down at you. “What?”

“If you knew you…” Loved me. “...had feelings for me… why didn’t you say anything?”

He makes a face you can’t read; it’s cousins with a grimace but not quite the same. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he counters.

“I can actually answer that,” you tease, poking him in the ribs. He squirms, whining. “It was because I had zero inkling that you’d be interested. The first time I ever thought you could be was… that night… and then I got the idea that you weren’t into it after all.”

You look at him expectantly, as if saying, okay, your turn. 

His ears are red.  “You’re gonna make me say it, huh?” he asks flatly, avoiding your gaze. 

“I am curious,” you murmur, running a hand up his arm. 

He holds you tighter, rolling on his side to get his arms all the way around you.  With you tucked safely in his embrace, he doesn’t have to look at you when he says, “I guess I was scared. The whole time.”

“Of what?” you ask, your voice muffled by his shirt.

You can feel him shrug. “Of fucking it up. Of pissing off Minji to the point it hurt your friendship. Of it not being as good as I built it up in my head. Of not being… enough to make you happy.”

“Hey,” you say sharply. “That could never be true.” You wiggle a little, sitting up a bit so you can look at him again. “Don’t put so much pressure on it,” you tell him gently. “It doesn’t need to be perfect or nothing, you know? We can just… be.”

He rests his head on yours, fingers tracing patterns on your upper arms. “I like the sound of that,” he admits. 

On the coffee table, your phone rings - several long buzzes, the sound even louder in the quiet room. Jin reaches over your shoulder and picks it up, handing it to you.

“It’s my sister,” he tells you.

“Do you want to come have dinner at my dad’s?” Minji asks when you answer. “Jin went out with some friends so I’m here by myself and I am bored.”

“Oh, sorry Minji… I can’t tonight. I’m actually still at the office,” you lie, and Seokjin’s eyebrows shoot up in amusement. 

She groans. “Fine, leave me here to suffer,” she laments.

“You’re all so dramatic,” you tell her. “Jungkook is the only normal one.” Seokjin kicks your shin gently, pretending to scowl in offense.

“Speaking of Jungkook,” Minji says, clearly perking up, “what about tomorrow night? My dad invited over his golf buddy’s whole family, and he wants all of us there to make him look good. Even Jungkook is coming.”

“I fail to see how I fit into this equation,” you tell her flatly. 

She makes a loud noise of frustration, and you pull the phone away from your ear briefly. Seokjin’s eyebrows inch even higher. “It’s just gonna suck,” she whines. “I have to dress up and act like a real adult, and they’re gonna ask me questions about work and if I’m dating and I would just really appreciate it if you were there to make me feel less pathetic.”

“Because I, too, am a disgrace to adulthood?” you clarify.

She cackles. “Because we can roll our eyes at each other and talk shit about them later? Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Not as nice as staying in my own home in my sweatpants,” you say, even though you already know you’ll be going. It’s a chance to spend the night with Jin, one week before he flies home again. “Your dad won’t care that he has an extra child all of a sudden?”

“Nah,” she says easily, happy that you’ve consented. “He won’t care at all. Right, Dad?”

When you hang up, Seokjin is looking at you expectantly, waiting for the explanation. 

“I guess I’m attending your dad’s fancy dinner party tomorrow,” you tell him. Then, frowning, you ask, “How’s he hosting that when he can barely get around?”

Jin rolls his eyes. “You get three guesses who’s doing all the cooking, and the first two don’t count.”

You giggle. “Well,” you say happily, “now I get to see you tomorrow night, too!”

–

You are a fool. You know it the second Mr. Kim’s guests come through the front door. The Parks seem nice enough - a married couple near Mr. Kim’s age, both greying and soft-spoken. The problem is the Trojan Horse they bring with them - their daughter, Sumin. She’s around your age, pretty, and you know instantly that this dinner is a set-up.

The whole evening is unbearable - because it goes well. Seokjin, clueless, is so charming that you think even Mr. Park falls in love with him before dessert. 

Around the dinner table, Mr. Kim introduces each of his children. You notice, even if no one else does, that he gives more details about Jin’s university achievements and current career than he does for Minji or Jungkook. Quite a sales pitch, actually. 

You notice, even if no one else does, how Mr. and Mrs. Park cling to every word, their smiles growing when they hear that Seokjin is smart, has a respectable and stable job with solid income. You notice, even if no one else does, how Sumin toys nervously with the bangles on her wrist, looking sideways at Seokjin and blushing prettily. 

Your stomach turns.

“And my daughter’s best friend,” Mr. Kim introduces you, even though no one cares, certainly not the Parks, “who grew up in this house with them. I consider her a second daughter.”

The Parks don’t let Sumin speak for herself, either - they handle the sales pitch the same way Mr. Kim had for Seokjin. Fact for fact - university background, current job, philanthropic efforts, extracurriculars. You’re tempted to text Minji, “Well, I’d HIRE her if nothing else.” 

You largely tune the rest of the conversation out. You’re too busy watching how Seokjin doesn’t even look at her, keeps his eyes on his plate when they’re not on you. You exist on the edge, peripherally involved at best.

That is, until you hear Mr. Park laugh, “And what are the odds that you two would end up in the same city? Is it really so far? Yah, we ask her to come home more often and you’d think we were asking her to get a medical procedure done!”

“The flights are a bit of a hassle,” Sumin says with an apologetic smile. 

“She’s right,” Jin adds, unable to help himself; he had a personal vendetta against the airline that had brought him home this time. “And there are no train lines that make sense. It is a hassle.”

“It’ll be nice for Sumin to have another good friend in the city,” Mrs. Park says with a gracious smile, nodding to Seokjin. “Many of her university friends ended up abroad for work.”

No one notices that Minji and Jungkook are taking turns making faces across the table from each other. No one notices that you’ve gone silent as the grave.

Except Seokjin, who spends all of dinner shooting you looks that you can’t decipher. 

You sigh in blessed relief when they finish the round of cocktails and say their goodbyes, smiles bright, Sumin’s eyes lingering on Seokjin as she follows her parents towards the front door. You’re unsettled as you station yourself at the kitchen sink, eager for a task to keep you busy. It’s clear to you that the Parks - all three - were sold. How easy would it be for Jin to accept this path? It feels like watching someone step into the place in his life that you’d wanted for as long as you can remember, and fit perfectly. More perfectly than you, who seem to barely fit at all. It feels like watching someone else get everything you ever wanted, without even having to work for it. 

Seokjin passes behind where you’re standing and goes through the kitchen door, out to the wooden porch. A minute later, Mr. Kim limps through the room, following after him. It’s not long before you can hear their voices floating through the open kitchen window.

You shouldn’t listen. Behind you, further in the house, you can hear Minji and Jungkook bickering. You grab a dish towel and start wiping down some of the plates you’ve already cleaned.

“Explain to me what the problem was,” Mr. Kim says sternly. You feel your stomach flip again.

“There wasn’t a problem,” Seokjin answers flatly. 

“You were rude,” Mr. Kim admonishes.

“I wasn’t rude,” Jin counters calmly. “I’m just not interested.”

There’s a thump, like Mr. Kim has slapped the porch railing in frustration. “And why not? She’s beautiful, educated, she’s got a good personality, comes from a good family. How could you not be interested? You’re thirty, for the love of God -.”

“I appreciate your concern,” Jin says, and it makes your chest clench how icy he sounds, “but like I said… I’m not interested.”

The silence goes on so long that you think maybe they moved where you can’t hear them anymore. Then, Mr. Kim’s voice floats through the window, quieter than before.

“Is it because of her?”

“Dad -.”

“For the love of God, Seokjin, how many more years do you plan to lose?” Mr. Kim demands, his voice loud again. “When will you figure out that you’re wasting your time?”

You drop the dish towel, manage to cling to the plate you’re holding. You feel nauseated. Is that what this is? A waste of his time? Are you fools for even pretending you could try? 

Minji comes up behind you, silent as a jungle cat. “What are they fighting about?” she whispers.

You push the plate into her hands blindly. “I have to go,” you say, brushing past her and heading through the house, out the front door, and across the yard. 

You’re halfway to your parents’ house when you hear Seokjin yell your name behind you.

“Hey!” he shouts when you don’t stop. You keep walking, but you can hear his footsteps jog to catch you. He catches your arm, gives it a tug to whirl you around.

“What?” you demand.

“Why are you upset?” he asks, eyes scanning your face, as if he’ll find answers. “What’s wrong?”

You laugh bitterly. “Your dad is right,” you say flatly. “You’re wasting your time. I’ve wasted your time for almost ten fucking years. What are we doing? Where is this going? In six days you’re getting on a plane again and we’ll be right where we were before. You’ve got a great option right in front of you - the least selfish choice for me here is to let you take it. The least selfish thing for me to do is to let you go, let you move on.”

You’re not sure when in this little speech you started crying; you aren’t even aware that it’s happening until Seokjin’s thumbs brush your cheeks and then swipe once more at your waterline, flicking away a fresh wave of tears. 

He looks so confused that you almost feel sorry for him. “What?” he asks. “Y/N, I’m obviously not interested in Sumin.”

“Why not?” you shoot back, anger rising - not at him, you don’t think. “Why not be interested in her? She’s perfect - gorgeous, more educated than me, from a richer family. God, she even lives in your city!” You sniff roughly, steeling yourself, feeling something inside you harden like cooling lava into rock. “You should call her,” you tell him firmly. “She’s the better option for you.”

“Why are you talking like this is ending?” he asks, his voice a whisper. “We’re not ending, we’re just starting.”

“I don’t know,” you cry, feeling stupid and a little like you're overreacting, but now that you’ve started you can’t stop. “Why are you picking the harder option? Why choose this? What happy ending can we possibly have?”

“Pick,” he repeats, putting a bit of a laugh into the word. “Who picked? I fell in love with you. There’s no choice about it. You’re the one I want. You’re the one I love. That’s all there is to it.”

This makes you cry harder, and he pulls you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head. You bury your face in his shirt, let yourself be selfish for just one more minute.

It’s there, under the streetlight, hiding in Jin’s solid embrace, that Minji finds you.

She steps into the circle of orange glow that the streetlight creates, appearing out of the darkness without a sound. You and Jin both freeze, caught, no time to leap apart. When she speaks, you expect the sound to echo loudly in the quiet. Instead, her voice comes out hushed and shaking as she asks, “What… is going on here?”

&lt;- Prev || Next ->

oop!!!!!!!!!! >:) we have officially reached the point of the outline that read "Minji becomes the Problem" hehehe

thank you so so so much for reading!!!! Part 4: Perilune will post next Friday, June 23rd.

[asukamood]

Free

***

Happy birthday to myself :D

This is a sort of alternative timeline of fmaa2 where Sweammare actually end up together after Noot killed the Priest, this au is an emotional rollercoaster but it’s good! Idk if I’ll ever write much about it in the future though so I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

***

Warnings: Mention of suicide attempts, implied murder

Synopsis: “Nothing I ever do to you or with you is casual.” he replied, squeezing his hand to stop the subtle tremor he could feel against his palm. “It’s a gift from me to you, for everything you have done for me.”

Or: Nightmare spoils all his wedding vows before he even proposes to Dream.

***

What the hell was happening?

“Nightmare.” Dream smiled down at him, his eyes warm and full of love. The sight alone had said one’s heart beating loudly in his chest, blood flowing to his cheeks.

His heartbeat only sped up when Dream inched closer to him, soft fingertips brushing over the back of his neck as he felt the other’s thigh pressing against his hip.

Was that a dream? It had to be, there was no way this was happening in real life.

Dream’s other hand landed on his chest, making him wonder if the other was able to feel how quickly his heart was beating against his ribcage. Could he also feel the tingles of petals everywhere he touched him? He blinked, as if surprised before his smile softened, causing Nightmare’s heart to melt.

He had never felt so warm before, not even when the two of them were trapped in each other’s arms. He did not even know that such warmth was possible. It was not burning either, just the perfect temperature to have him feeling all fuzzy and soft inside, he never felt so good, and he never wanted this moment to end.

His heart all but leaped out of its place when the hand on his chest left, instead guiding one of Nightmare’s hands toward his own chest. Even through the fabric of Dream’s sweater, he was able to discern the soft thumping of the other’s heart that seemed almost like a carbon copy of Nightmare’s erratic heartbeat. The implication of that had his head spinning.

“I’m freaking out too.” Dream chuckled, voice light and relaxed, so different from the stifled and anxious one Nightmare was used to. He caught himself thinking that getting rid of the Priest was the best decision he has ever made, no matter how much he suffered in the aftermath. If it meant seeing Dream so joyful, he would not even mind going through all of it again. “But it’s not so bad, right?”

His grip on his wrist tightened just a bit but instead of hurting, it only spread warmth through Nightmare’s veins, his golden eyes bore into Nightmare’s, looking for an answer in those familiar irises.

All that attention was overwhelmingly pleasant.

“I wish we could stay like this forever.” He heard himself say, gently freeing himself from Dream’s grip before he intertwined their fingers, his fingertips brushing over Dream’s visible vein lines. “Just us, just me and you together as it was always meant to be.”

Normally, he would never dare utter such words aloud, for fear of ruining what they had and because of how embarrassing it was, but this was a dream anyway, was it not? Maybe that was the source of his newfound shamelessness.

He tugged Dream’s arm forward, leveling the other’s wrist to his face before he leaned down and boldly kissed the lines drawn by his veins, his lips tingling where they met skin.

Dream’s cheeks turned a darker shade of red at his actions as he finally settled on straddling the other’s waist. “You... shouldn’t do these things so casually.”

Nightmare’s eyes turned to focus on him again, his lips still pressed against lighter soft skin. He found himself admiring how much that shade of red suited the other, especially since it drew attention to his sparkling eyes that only tempted Nightmare to stare at them and not look away.

“Nothing I ever do to you or with you is casual.” he replied, squeezing his hand to stop the subtle tremor he could feel against his palm. “It’s a gift from me to you, for everything you have done for me.”

Dream tilted his head to the side, frowning in confusion. “For everything I have done for you?” He echoed, perplexed. Before he could follow it up with a question though, Nightmare opened his mouth once more.

“I used to believe hands were made for fighting.” He began, making the other shut his mouth to listen. “They were always synonymous of pain and fear for me, before you, I had no idea hands could be so comforting and healing.” As if to emphasize his point, he detangled their hands before pressing his cheek against Dream’s palm.

Almost mechanically, his thumb started drawing small circles on his cheek, earning him humming from Nightmare.

“I had no clue eyes could hold anything other than hatred; I didn’t even know eyes could be pretty before I met you. For me, to make friends was to receive glares and brace hostility, you’re the first one who ever showed me what kindness and respect even was.” As he talked, he found himself closing his eyes, focusing on the feeling of Dream’s fingertips against his skin.

“I was used to the cold and the loneliness, and I was fine with them. Then, you came into my life and swung an axe at what I’ve always known and decided to show me how warm another person’s embrace could be, how freeing it was to have someone by your side.”

To show vulnerability was something Nightmare wasn’t used to, so how come it came so naturally when he was speaking to Dream? He did not quite understand but he would not have it any other way.

“You have no clue how much you mean to me, hell if you did it might even scare you.” He chuckled at that, nuzzling Dream’s hand. “I used to think– Ah, I scratch that, I still do– that life sucked and I was just better off dead. I never cared about what happened to me because I had nothing to stay for anyway. Now, for the first time in my life, I’m afraid, not because I fear death, but because I can’t stand the thought of being separated from you.”

He pursued his lips, the mere thought enough to sour his mood. “To never be able to see you smile, to hear you laugh, to listen to your voice, to touch you, to just be there with you... it just sounds like hell to me. For the first time in my life, I’ve got a home to come back to and a person to protect, I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to let you go.”

He ignored how unstable his voice had become or how shaky Dream’s breaths had gotten or even acknowledge how much Dream’s hand was trembling. If he did not say it now, he would never do it again.

“You make my life bearable, feel pleasant even. Seriously, how did you even manage to do that?” He risked a glance at the other whose eyes were glistening with unshed tears. He smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Unfortunately, though, it only served to actually make him shed his tears. He sniffled, as he attempted to wipe them away with his sleeve. The other stopped him before he could though, instead resuming what he was doing and kissing his tears away.

“What are you crying about? I am complimenting you here, it’s not meant to be making you sad.” He could not help but tease, earning a half-hearted glare from Dream in response before he weakly slapped his shoulder in retaliation.

“You’re a moron.” He hiccupped reproachingly, shoving Nightmare back with a huff. Nightmare would have voiced how cute Dream was being but unfortunately, he was quite fond of the bed they were sharing and was not looking forward to sleeping on the couch tonight, so he kept his mouth shut about that. “Who even allowed you to say such beautiful things? Couldn’t you just say, ‘I love you’ like a normal person?”

Nightmare smiled fondly, reaching upward and playing with the other’s soft locks. “Such simple words could not even convey even a tenth of my adoration for you, after all my heart only beats for you.”

“Okay, now you’re just showing off.” Dream deadpanned, causing Nightmare to laugh. The golden-eyed one sighed, readjusting his position to rest his head on the other’s chest, his arms loosely wrapped around his torso. “How am I even meant to respond to this? I can’t word anything that wouldn’t sound bland in comparison to what you said.” He sounded genuinely frustrated, which was a surprise to Nightmare.

“If you’re worried about that, then between the two of us, someone is smarter than you.” Dream let out an offended gasp at that which was quickly ignored as he wrapped his arms around Dream, firmly keeping his head down against his shoulder. “I already know that you love me back, that’s enough.”

Dream clearly seemed to want to protest but he pressed him closer instead, adding with a voice too broken to be normal: “However, I need you to swear you’re never going to think of leaving me again.”

The trapped one opened his jaw, about to express his confusion before he abruptly shut it as pathetic cries, a burning throat, tears mingling with a soap-like substance, the smell of alcohol and medicine, and the shrieking of the ambulance car assaulted his mind.

Among the blurry memories, a figure with desperate purple eyes stood out, begging him to hold on and not make him live in a world where he was not there.

He tightened his hold over Nightmare, one of his hands ending up fisting the fabric of his shirt. “I won’t leave, not again.” He managed to squeak out, recalling how Nightmare held him after the incident, like he wanted to open his ribcage and tuck Dream inside or like he was the fool cradling sand and hoping it would stop it from being blown far away by the wind.

“But you better not go anywhere either.” He added, a familiar boy with a noose around his neck making sure to remind him he was not the only one who attempted to end their story prematurely.

“I’ll follow you for the rest of my life, if only you would be so kind as to permit it.” He replied, quickly adding the last part.

Dream scoffed, lifting his head before he crashed their lips together. Nightmare responded in kind, flipping them over so he would be on top of him instead.

The other’s arms wrapped around his neck, bringing them impossibly closer as the kiss deepened. Nightmare reached for one of Dream’s knees, lifting it by its back and rubbing soothing circles on the bare skin. Both would have been perfectly content to continue kissing but unfortunately, human beings did need to breathe, which forced them to separate for a bit.

“We should get married.” Nightmare said, out of breath, clearly too dizzy and drunk on the present moment to be deciding such important things.

“Talk about marriage after you get a ring.” Dream, always the reasonable one, wisely reminded him before kissing him again.

The next day, when Nightmare, in pajamas, actually got on one knee and presented his ring offering to his boyfriend, Dream almost spat out his latte.

[darth-sonny]

What if... Maybe a year or so after Leo starts becoming a more active parent... Kirby goes missing? They're only gone for a day or two, but Leo is obscenely worried. Going insane looking for them, when Kirby returns, quiet as ever. Leo holds them in his arms, demanding to know where they were, when quietly, Kirby asks;

"... How was I born?"

They know. They got tired of Leo's half answers, the states they'd get from Uncle Donnie and Aunt April. They looked for the truth themself, and they found out who their other parent really is.

Obviously this is just me spitballing but if you couldn't tell I'm in love with his AU didysbsjsm

okay, okay, okayokayokayokayokayokayokay

personally, for me, Kirby wouldn't know. like, they know that they're half-Kraang, but Leo just told them that it was because he got infected and that messed with his biology and that resulted in Kirby. like, not the obvious truth, but just a smidge of what actually happened. a very watered-down version of everything

but T H I S ??????? oh-hohohohohohohohohohohohohoho~~~~~~~

this i like~~

Donnie and Raph try to say something about that question - either to answer it or to somehow change the subject. Anything, really - while Mikey tries to stop them. Splinter is trying to calm everyone down when Leo tells them to leave.

——————————————————————————

Leo would go quiet. He would freeze.

None of them want to. But Leo insists, quite sternly, and they leave.

So it's just Leo and Kirby.

Leo leads them to the kitchen and makes some chai, Kirby's favorite. "How was I born?" they ask again. They wish they hadn't said anything. Because things were going great, and they didn't want to ruin that, but they were curious, and they wanted to know why their family treated them the way they did.

They just want confirmation that what they learned wasn't true and just... nasty stories.

"Are you sure you want to know?" Leo asks, staring at the pot.

This was the point of no return.

And Kirby decides to pass it.

"Yes."

So Leo tells them.

He tells them about the key, about Casey Junior's true origins. About how a clan called the Foot released an ancient evil called the Kraang. Tells them about how the end of the world almost happened right there and then.

He tells them about how he decided to lock himself in the prison dimension to save everyone. Tells them about the weeks of torture and abuse, about how he lost his arm. How his leg got fucked up so badly that he now can't walk without a cane.

He tells Kirby about Prime.

Over their favorite tea, Kirby learns everything.

How Prime possessed their dad, took pleasure in it. How they abused him – emotionally, physically, mentally, and even...

Leo stops himself from finishing, but Kirby gets the picture.

He ends the "story," and Kirby wants to run away again.

They regret asking, they regret being curious, and they regret being born. They regret not running away when they had the chance back then. They regret staying and hurting dad, reminding him of what he went through, reminding everyone–

Leo pulls them out of their beginning spiral with a hug.

"I never blamed you," he whispers, and that breaks them.

"Why?" they ask. Why doesn't he blame them? He should. Uncle Donnie does it. Auntie April does it. And Uncle Raph, even though he tries not to. Dad should blame them, he had every right to...

Leo holds them for a long time, rocking back and forth, shushing Kirby's tears and sobs.

"Because you didn't deserve any of this," he says. "I chose to keep you. I chose to have you grow up, to live in the aftermath of that whole situation. It's my fault everyone treated you like that. You didn't do anything. You aren't at fault for anything. You're just as much a victim as I was. Am."

Kirby tries to shake their head, but Leo doesn't let them.

"I'm sorry," he continues. "I'm sorry I was never there to start with. I'm sorry that I forced you to grow up so quickly. I'm sorry that I brought you into a family that was never going to truly love you the way you deserved to be. And I'm sorry that I couldn't protect you from this."

Leo hugs them tighter and gently places his forehead on top of theirs.

"You deserve so much more than this, than me. You deserve a normal childhood, a happy one, full of uncles and aunties that love you without question. But you got us. You got me. But I promise you that I'll do everything I can to make it up to you. And if that means you want to leave, then-"

Kirby shakes their head. They don't want to leave. They don't! They had those thoughts before, but they were dumb thoughts now. They can't leave!

"I-I'm sorry!!" they sob. The tears fall harder when dad rubs soothing patterns on their shell. "I'm s-sorry I hurt-hurt you!..."

"You didn't hurt me," he soothes, "you never hurt me."

They stay in the kitchen for a long time, Leo holding them and doing his best to stop the tears.

Neither of them feel like they'd apologized enough, but they console the other that they have.

[elix8r]

Pink Whitney (psh) - teaser

PAIRING: park sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRES: smut, fluff, crack, college au, brother’s best friend au, frat au, friends to lovers au 

TEASER WC: 0.46k (not sure how long the actual story will be but it’s already past 7k ૮₍ ˃̵ࡇ˂̵ ₎ა

SUMMARY:  You had always trusted the beautiful bottle of Pink Whitney to deliver crazy fun nights with little to no hangovers in the morning. It was almost a sacred bond between you and your go-to drink. But that trust was shattered after a night that should have been like any other. Instead, you found yourself waking up in bed with your younger brother's frat bro, and worse, narrowly avoiding pregnancy. Now, as you navigate the awkward aftermath of it all, you feel betrayed by Pink Whitney, the drink that had never let you down before. But even as you mourn the loss of that trust, you find yourself more worked up over the boy who shattered it. 

Fuck Park Sunghoon for ruining Pink Whitney for you or better yet fuck Pink Whitney for making you fall in love with Park Sunghoon.

Of course, you would much rather be anywhere on a Thursday night (which was still a school night btw!) than at Epsilon Nu’s notorious back to school party, but a promise was a promise and you couldn’t back out on it. Especially when it was a promise you made to your brother. Jungwon was a relatively easy sibling that rarely asked for much from you so when he came running across campus to you with a request, you couldn’t turn him away. 

“I promise it’ll be the best night of your life!” You doubted it but you let him continue rambling as it was becoming almost entertaining with how desperate your younger brother was becoming. 

As a first-year and a pledge, he was automatically sent to the bottom of the food chain and in the hierarchy of a fraternity if he didn’t bring anything to the frat, then he could wave his membership goodbye. 

“You know I never ask you for anything but if you and your sisters could come then it would help me out and by that, I mean like reaaaaaallly help me out!” His eyes were wide and shimmering towards you. 

“Ok fine, I’ll be there. I’ll probably be able to bring a couple of us but I can’t assure you anything.” You finally give in and before you can even finish your sentence, Jungwon was already pulling you into a tight side hug while jumping in glee. 

Each pledge was tasked with inviting girls to the party and the more that came under their name would be awarded more points and your brother was aiming to be on the top of that list. He was smart for reaching out for your help as you had the connections to help him out as you were also involved in Greek life. It wouldn’t be hard to convince your sisters to go as you knew many of them were already planning on going but it was the fact that you personally weren’t planning on going until now. 

“You won’t regret it! I promise I’ll make sure we’re stocked up on that Pink Whitney shit you like so much and I can even see if Heeseung hyung would be able to pick you and the girls up so you guys won’t have to worry about driving!” 

Seeing how excited he was also brought a smile to your face but if you knew what Thursday night had in store for you then you would have most definitely declined and stuck with your original plans of staying back at your sorority house lounging in the new pajama set you bought at Target while starting on assignments you were already given. But you were no fortune-teller and also weak to your brother’s puppy eyes how could you have known? 

AUTHOR’S NOTE: ngl around 60-65% of this story is based on real life events (yes i am indeed involved in greek life, specifically at an sec school so you guys will be getting the whole southern experience lmao) so not only am I excited to be sharing this piece but also scared shitless so I hope no one judges lol! but in all seriousness I’m having so much fun writing this, lowkey might wanna expand on this universe and maybe continue it as a series with different members? but hope you guys enjoyed the trailer and send me an ask or anything regarding the fic if you’re interested! ♡

[moonshynecybin]

dark-ish idea for the forced coming out au: vale is angry and tortured by how he has to pretend he let 2015 go and now is constantly losing to the same kid who denied him his precious tenth championship while also having to act like he's in LOVE with that little bastard... and a small delusional paranoid part of his brain starts wondering whether this was all on purpose, whether marc arranged for photos to be taken, whether marc is playing him just to continue to ruin his legacy. obviously this is ridiculous and he probably knows it's ridiculous but it still... lingers in the back of his mind... sure he's protective of marc in this au, but also maybe a little resentful? after all MARC is still winning

au credit of course to the incomparable @kingofthering.... the only way i see something like this taking off is if uccio goes full iago mode lmao (which to be fair. he has done before).... like vale DOES have to overcome his sepang resentment but i dont think he adds anymore to the situation bc marc is so freaked and he is not. evil. lol

sorry alsoooooo truly one of the things that is so delicious to me about forced coming out au is that it is a mechanism to make vale think about how he fucked up at sepang 2015. essentially. like in this vale IS in love with marc and he DID hurt him and i think some part of him knows all of this!! and feels terrible about it!!! but he's repressing it so hard bc that would mean he NUKED EVERYTHINGGG for NOTHINGGGG. like he can see how it is affecting marc in presscons and with the media and within their relationship when marc refuses to play along with pretending even when its doing stuff that wouldve been so easy for him a few months ago and it makes him feel like SHIT bc deep down he knows its his fault ! and he is avoiding thinking about the fact that it is his fault like its his JOB. its about making vale confront what he could have had, if he hadnt been delusional and blew everything up: that marc couldve been with him for real. that they couldve kissed him in parc ferme and no one would blink an eye. that marc couldve been spending half of his off weekends at the ranch. and now they have to pretend that they have that and that everything is fine but it is. killing them both lol.

like the whole thing is about deflating his ego a bit.... so adding more of that ego based resentment to the middle of the story (even if its not like. necessarily OUT of character) kind of contradicts the mechanism of the story... also vale can see how distressed marc is about being outed VERY OBVIOUSLY here in ways he could avoid more in sepang bc they didnt have to hang out a lot in the aftermath of it all. in this theyre playing tonsil hockey on the podium most weekends and fucking off to take mandatory PR holidays on vale's huge yacht. a much harder situation to repress empathy in imo