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yellowocaballero · 5 months ago

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Naruto Roleswap Fic: Uchiha Family Values

“How do you do,” Itachi said quietly. Itachi always spoke very softly, as if every time he spoke he was begging you not to hear him. He looked down at the squirming kid, who had grown enraptured by Tobi’s ugly mug. “This is my brother. Sasuke, say hello.”

Promptly, Sasuke said, “You only have one eye!”

Tobi made a show of gasping, slapping one hand to the side of his head. “Oh no! Really? Tobi dropped it?! Tobi needs that! Will you help me find it, Sasuke!” Sasuke nodded his head furiously, ready to lend his ninja services to their newest client. “Thank you! Maybe I dropped it in the dirt around my house?”

Sasuke turned around and promptly attempted to run off and scrutinize a wide field of dirt. He was stopped only by his brother, who casually captured his collar and turned him back around. Shisui just laughed, crooked white teeth gleaming. Four of them had been replaced by replicas.

“I knew you were the right person to ask! Tobi-san, I need a big favor.” Shisui made a show of clapping his hands together, ducking his head pleadingly. “Will you play with us?”

What was this kid’s game?

There's only one thing Obito hates more than Konoha, and that's the Uchihas. Unfortunately, the prospect of supervillainy has not occured to him, so now he's stuck babysitting his cousins. Or, if you were to ask two of the cousins, babysitting him.

If you were to ask one of the cousins, he would say that there's more to Tobi than meets two Sharingan eyes. And there's nothing that Obito Uchiha hates more than that.

There's plenty of scenes of this AU that I don't feel are complete enough to post on Tumblr, but I feel as if this is one of them. It's a bit long, but I think I'd want to post it before posting the others. It's far from the first or last story in the order it was written or the order that events take place, but it's valuable context for the relationship Tobi will have with Sasuke and Shisui later on. I love Shisui. Shisui's fun. He's free real estate.

CW for noncon drugging (roofie'ing, basically) and constant background ableism. As usual I'm incapable of writing something without strong disability themes OTL. 12k of Uchihas being so abnormal under the cut.

A knock interrupted Tobi in the middle of his katas. After all this time, he still found them meditative and calming. He practiced them at the same level he used when he was eight, but that was the relaxing part: where other people had old stuffed animals, Tobi had old exercise routines.

The knock echoed again, sharp and impatient. The full situation processed far too late, and Tobi’s furious mental processing of the event could be summarized as: who the hell wants to talk to me? As a general rule, people didn’t talk to Tobi. Especially not Uchiha.

Oh, well. He’d get rid of them in under five minutes. It couldn’t possibly be a social call. Tobi threw on a bathrobe and opened the door, yawning widely.

Standing on the doorstep to his parent’s home was a mostly familiar teenager and two much more familiar children. The teenager was grinning broadly, the older kid had his only facial expression on, and the youngest kid was clutching onto the older kid’s hand and looking around curiously. What the fuck was all of this. What. Children? In Tobi’s house?!

Tobi yawned again, holding a hand over his mouth. It was eleven in the morning. “Um? Itachi-chan…?”

The teenager hurriedly gave him a shallow bow. “Hi, Tobi-san! My name’s Shisui. It’s nice to meet you!” He clapped Itachi on the shoulder. “And you’ve met Itachi-kun before, right?”

Yes, yes, Shisui Uchiha. Everybody in the clan knew who Shisui Uchiha was. But he and Tobi hadn’t strictly met, and Tobi hadn’t seen him up close and personal since he was a tot. The kid looked pretty fluffy for Uchiha Genius #5.

“Hi, Shisui-kun, my name’s Tobi.” Tobi looked around, seemingly really registering Itachi for the first time. He gasped, then broke into a big smile. “Itachi-chan! You’ve gotten so big!”

Promptly, Sasuke said, “You only have one eye!”

“I knew you were the right person to ask! Tobi-san, I need a big favor.” Shisui made a show of clapping his hands together, ducking his head pleadingly. “Will you play with us?”

What was this kid’s game?

Whatever. This wasn’t the time to worry about that. Most importantly, Tobi absolutely didn’t want to play with them. Tobi had never liked kids, Itachi was a waste of time if his parents weren’t around, and Shisui had an ulterior motive for asking. Most importantly: Shisui was committing a major clan taboo by asking this at all. Which would be one thing if it was just him, but to drag along the main family kids like this? He was shit-talking the village in front of the Hokage here. This had to be some ridiculous clan politics that Tobi didn’t want to get swept up in. And it was setting a pretty awful precedent to involve him in clan politics at all. Tobi was involved in nothing, that was the point.

Tobi broke into a sunny smile, clapping his hands. “Really? You really want to play with me? Nobody ever wants to play with me!”

“No clue why,” Shisui said, lying through his fucking teeth. He looked down at Sasuke, who had finally processed the eye comment and was engaging in the arduous mental task in determining that he’d been duped. “Come on, Sasuke, let’s play ninja with Itachi and cousin Tobi.”

Sasuke grinned too, unselfconscious and toothy like only a little kid could. Tobi could tell that it was the ‘Itachi’ part of the sentence that excited him more than anything else. “I call Hokage!”

Trust me, kid. You could have it.

That was how Tobi found himself playing in his backyard with a six year old and a fourteen year old as an eleven year old babysat both of them.

Well, Sasuke was probably the one being babysat. But the babysitter definitely wasn’t Tobi. They had tried to make him babysit a few times when he was a teenager, and it had ended in disaster. Strangely, Tobi hadn’t even tried that hard to sabotage that one. A passerby grandmother had seen Tobi coaching the kid through learning Katon and promptly flipped out. Tobi hadn’t seen the problem. He learned Katon when he was three, and he turned out fine. And yet they didn’t leave him unsupervised around children anymore.

The babysitter didn’t even seem to be Shisui, as he was happily rolling around in the mud with Sasuke pretending to be an enemy ninja as Tobi convincingly pretended to be kidnapped. Poor Sasuke was up against thousand-to-one odds, bravely holding back the rising swarm of enemies as he fought to save his panicked teammate. Shisui was having the time of his life pretending that Sasuke’s pokes with a rubber kunai were just as effective as hamstringing him. Itachi was the one sitting on Tobi’s back porch drinking tea.

It was a familiar sight, from a few different dimensions. Tobi turned around, ignoring Sasuke’s dart through the hastily summoned stone obstacle course to reach Tobi in his prison - how many jutsu did Shisui know? “Itachi-kun, come play with us!”

Itachi sipped his tea. “Have fun, Tobi-san.”

Tobi blew a raspberry at Itachi. Itachi blinked. “You’re still no fun.”

“Ah…sure.”

Sasuke halted in his assault on the enemy stronghold. “Aniki’s a lot of fun!” Sasuke screeched. “He buys me dango and then we watch Super Ninja and then he shows me cool moves!”

“Itachi-kun never buys me dango or watches super ninja with me or shows me cool moves,” Tobi said, wounded. Itachi coughed. “That’s no fair.”

Sasuke crossed his arms, nodding imperiously. “Make your parents give you a brother. Itachi did that. Mama says Itachi wished really hard for a brother and ate all his vegetables and that’s how I was born!”

What a birds and the bees talk. Itachi looked away, clearly embarrassed. “Tobi doesn’t know if that’s true…”

“Mama said so,” Sasuke proclaimed, as if he was dropping a bomb on an unsuspecting village. “Go back to being kidnapped right now!”

Itachi blinked mournfully. “Remember your manners, Sasuke.”

“Please be kidnapped.”

Tobi fell over, howling his head off. “Ahh! The evil ninja stole my eye! Evil men!”

“So that’s what happened to it!”

Shisui sat up from his prone position on the ground. He looked at Itachi. Itachi nodded. He made an impressed sound.

The playdate passed absolutely uneventfully. Tobi was rescued from the bad guys before he was permanently maimed, which was a pleasant deviation from the norm. Shisui was covered in dirt and twigs, but he was smiling broadly and happily swinging the laughing Sasuke around by his armpits. Itachi never said or did anything. He just stood by them like a particularly attentive rock. He responded when asked a direct question, but otherwise he just hovered near Sasuke or Shisui’s elbows. The kid seemed to be in a permanent state of begging you to forget that he existed. He never lost the tension in his shoulders.

Finally, the sun began to dip in the horizon, and Itachi told the others that it was time to go. It was time for Itachi and Sasuke’s dinner, and when the panting Sasuke asked Tobi if he wanted to join them Itachi tactfully rejected on his behalf.

“I’m sure Tobi-san is very tired after playing with us,” Itachi said, as if Itachi had done anything other than guard the perimeter with watchful eyes. “Say thank you to Tobi for playing with us today, Sasuke.”

Sasuke waved solemnly. “Thanks, Tobi.” Sasuke looked up at Itachi, tugging on his hand. “Did I do a good job?”

“Good job at what?” Tobi asked. He was also covered in twigs and leaves, but he couldn’t call himself unsatisfied.

Frankly, Sasuke said, “Aniki said that I have to be nice to you ‘cause you’re dumb. Sensei says I’m not good at being nice so I had to work really hard. Did I do a good job?”

Itachi blinked hard, which was his equivalent of a full-body cringe. Shisui openly winced. But Tobi just smiled, and he patted Sasuke firmly on the head. “You did a great job,” Tobi said. “Tobi thinks you’re a really nice guy, Sasuke-chan!”

Sasuke’s eyes widened, and something in them seemed to gleam a little. He bobbed his head in a nod that shook his entire body, and he hastily reached up to pat Tobi on the head too. Tobi crouched down a little and allowed him to rub his sticky hand on his head. It was the first time anybody but Gai had touched him in a long time. “Sasuke thinks Tobi-san is a really nice guy too!”

“Well, Tobi thinks Sasuke-chan’s even nicer!”

This has now become a competition. “Sasuke thinks Tobi-san’s the nicest in the entire village!”

“Tobi thinks Sasuke-chan’s the nicest in the whole world -”

“We have to go home,” Itachi said. He bowed shallowly at Tobi, who stood up. Sasuke pouted. “Thank you for indulging us, Tobi-san.”

“What does indulging mean?”

“...being nice.”

Sasuke crossed his arms smugly. “I told you.”

“We’ll be back to play more again later,” Shisui said, bright and eager. “See you then!”

Tobi waved the four boys off, and Sasuke kept waving until the moment Tobi shut the door.

Tobi firmly locked the door behind them. Well, that was weird.

Whatever Shisui wanted - had he received it? One of his motives had undoubtedly just been to socialize Itachi. From what Tobi could see of their dynamic, Shisui frequently pushed Itachi to act more like a normal human being instead of a particularly brotherly robot. But they could have achieved that with some kids Sasuke’s own age - or, heavens forbid, Itachi’s. Maybe he had been trying to warn Itachi. Serving as a walking, living warning was one of Tobi’s limited purposes around the village.

That would make sense. Calm down and stop trying to kill yourself on missions, Itachi, you’ll turn up like this washed up child genius. If that was the desired role, Tobi was more than happy to fulfill it. The one-time reminder and break from their duties would be sufficient for Shisui’s purposes.

Except then he came back a week later.

It was the exact same deal. Tobi acted incredibly excited to see them again - and, for just a bit of spice, acted a little emotional over how he really hadn’t thought they’d come back - and Sasuke was somehow equally excited. It was definitely just because of the time with Itachi, but Tobi had successfully found the right method to worm his way into Sasuke’s heart. He was just like Tobi as a kid: he would do literally anything for the slightest bit of praise.

“Sasuke-chan’s so smart!” Tobi clapped wildly as Sasuke proudly showed off his barest flicker of Katon. You could get more results with a lighter. Tobi had been charring off the faces of adult men at his age. “You’re so cool, Sasuke-chan!”

Sasuke humphed, propping his hands on his hips and nodding fastidiously. “I know. I’m gonna be just as good as Aniki one day. Then I’ll go on his missions so he can be home!” Magnanimously, Sasuke added, “You can play with Aniki while I’m gone, Tobi-san.”

“Wow, Sasuke-chan’s so dedicated,” Tobi admired. “I bet you work harder than anybody in your class!”

“Of course I do!” Sasuke cried heatedly. “Everybody in my class is so lazy! Ino and Chouji and Shikamaru and Ami and Kiba and -!”

The child continued ranting about his utter disdain for his fellow six year olds. Shisui just laughed and clapped Tobi on the shoulder. The touch burned. “You’re so good with Sasuke-chan, Tobi, I’m impressed. You were clearly born to be the cool older cousin.”

Tobi grinned, giving Shisui two ‘v for victory’ hand signs. “Tobi is the coolest, isn’t he?!”

“I sure think so! Hey, I stole some mochi from Mikoto-baachan, would you like some?”

Tobi gasped in delight. “Mochi, mochi, mochi!”

“Mochi?!” Sasuke yelled.

They sat on Tobi’s back porch, swinging their legs and listening to the cicadas chirp and whirr. Sasuke eagerly narrated his entire existence to Itachi, who nodded at the scientifically designated correct intervals. Tobi recited his top ten favorite mochi in list format to Shisui, who made impressed noises and empathetically agreed with him at the scientifically designated correct intervals.

There was something about Shisui. He was a sweet kid. Filled with the invigoration of youth, yet clearly mature and collected where it counted. He doted on his cousins, who clearly thought the world of him, and acted as their benevolent leader. He was respectful to Tobi as the adult in the room, but he spoke in ways that Tobi could understand and never made him feel stupid. He seemed to have decided that Tobi was lonely, that he needed a friend, and that Shisui was just the right person for the job.

In short: confidence grift. But what the hell did he want? Tobi was the most useless person in the village, thank-you-very-much. He contributed nothing to society and society wanted nothing to do with him. All he did was sit in his house or wander the village. The list of people who interacted with him was Gai and a small but mysteriously growing hoard of sympathetic old women. Itachi clearly had no idea why they kept on playing with Tobi, so it couldn’t be for his sake. Same with Sasuke. Shisui must want something, something he kept secret. But what?

It had to be a clan politics thing. Ugh. None of Tobi’s fucking business. The Uchiha were a lot of talk and they always will be. Last Tobi heard, they were muttering about secession again. They literally never stopped. If Shisui was taking that kind of talk seriously - well, he was welcome to his stress.

The third time they met, they were caught.

Tobi registered the presence before Itachi did. Afterwards, Tobi found that a little strange. Itachi was viewed as the ‘greater genius’, and he was obviously at hyper-alert every second of every day. Even in his own clan compound. Maybe especially in his own clan compound. Especially since he was looking after Sasuke. Tobi was a has-been, but he still picked up on Mikoto’s presence first. Maybe Itachi’s mother slipped underneath his radar, but Shisui didn’t notice until after Itachi did. Couldn’t they feel her step on the grass?

Well, couldn’t show it. Tobi laughed and left a gigantic opening in their ‘taijutsu match’, letting Sasuke tackle him around his waist. Tobi carefully fell backwards, pinwheeling his arms and yelling, and struggled in vain to fight off the yowling Sasuke trying to pin him to the ground with his bird-like limbs.

“I win!” Sasuke yelled, “I win, I win! Aniki, did you see me win!”

Tobi faked a growl. “It’s not over yet, Sasuke! Secret technique: Flappy no jutsu!” He grabbed Sasuke by the waist and hoisted him high in the air, making him squeal in delight. “You’ve been turned into…a bird!”

“No!” Sasuke wriggled happily, flapping his arms as Tobi began waving him back and forth in the air. “No, I’m not a bird -”

“If you’re not a bird, why are you flying!”

“Lemme go, lemme - Mama!”

From outside of Tobi’s field of vision, he heard Itachi’s voice say, “Mother. Hello.”

“Mikoto-baasan!” Shisui said cheerfully. “What’s…up?”

Quietly, Mikoto said, “Sasuke, please get down.”

Sasuke obediently wriggled, and Tobi slowly put Sasuke back down onto the ground. He scrambled upwards himself, tunic and wrapped pants smeared with dirt and grass stations, and twisted around to blink owlishly at the woman standing on the other end of his fence.

Mikoto looked the same as ever. Same hideously fancy kimono - jeez, Tobi remembered when she wore mesh shirts and leggings constantly because she couldn’t be bothered to change out of her mission uniform. Standing ramrod straight and perfectly elegant. As always, there was steel in her countenance. The woman knew which way to bend, but as a result she was unbreakable. But she didn’t look at Tobi like she was about to bend now. She actually didn’t seem very happy at all.

Kids were highly sensitive to that sort of thing. Sasuke scrambled towards her, running as fast as he could to the fence. He tried hopping over it and failed miserably, curling his fingers on the edge of the fencepost. He blinked up at Mikoto, who was not looking at him.

Tobi…broke out into a great big smile, pumping his arm in an excited wave. “Mikoto-nee! Hi-hi! Are you playing with us?”

Sasuke twisted around, boggling at Tobi. “Tobi knows Mama?”

“Duh! She’s my sister’s best friend, Kushina Uzumaki!”

Sasuke had never looked so horrified in his entire life. Mikoto’s lips thinned. “Tobi’s not an Uchiha?!”

Shisui raised a finger, omnipresent smile lingering stubbornly on his face. “Ah, Sasuke-chan, Tobi-san lived with some friends of his before they - Tobi-san is an Uchiha for sure. He just lived with Uzumaki-san and her partner for a while.” Sasuke squinted dubiously at him. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s good to see you again, Tobi,” Mikoto lied through her teeth, bowing slightly. Tobi tilted his head. “But Itachi and Sasuke have to go home now. Boys, let’s go.”

But Shisui just sauntered forward, hands in his pockets. “Why do they have to go?” Shisui drawled. “You said they could play in the compound for two and a half more hours. What’s the rush?”

Calmly, Mikoto said, “Their father wants them home.”

Sasuke’s head swiveled, turning the power of his dubious looks upon his mother. “Father told us to play outside ‘cause he has a meeting all day…”

Itachi stood up, awkwardly brushing himself off. Shisui had finally managed to wheedle him into serving as referee for the ‘taijutsu match’, and Tobi had guaranteed that he was a casualty of Sasuke’s assault. “Don’t question Mother, Sasuke. Let’s say goodbye to Tobi-san and Shisui.”

“But Aniki…” Sasuke turned big cow eyes on Shisui, who he could rely upon to contradict Itachi and guarantee a little extra fun each day. “Why are we going?”

“Yeah, Mikoto-baachan.” Shisui crossed his arms, planting himself like a tree. Itachi hovered near his elbow, nervous. Did the kid know that he practically clung to every ‘safe’ person in every vicinity? “Why are they going?”

Mikoto didn’t seem particularly surprised by this. Despite the insubordination towards the highly outranking person, she wasn’t angry. She just seemed solid, steady, and sad. “We can discuss this at home.”

“No, say it here.” Shisui pointed at Tobi, who just adopted a baffled face. “Say it in front of him.”

Mikoto’s expression creased. “Shisui.”

As with any Uchiha, the single world was weighty with meaning. Shisui ignored all of it. He turned to Tobi instead, firm and implacable. “Do you know why Mikoto-nee doesn’t want her kids playing with you, Tobi-san?”

“Um…but…” Tobi adopted a distressed look. “Tobi thought Itachi-chan and Sasuke-chan’s dad wanted them home…?”

A hair louder than usual - about as much emotion at Itachi ever showed - he said, “We’ll go.”

At almost the same time, Mikoto said, “Do not bring him into this, Shisui.”

“Bring him into something that’s about him? Say to his face what we all say behind his back? If I’m embarrassing you, then you should be embarrassed.” Shisui turned to Tobi, folding his arms. “Sorry, Tobi. I guess the jig’s up. We were caught visiting you. Frankly, it seems that the Uchiha gossip network’s losing their touch. I can’t believe that it took three visits before we were caught.”

Caught? Oh, this was hilarious. Pity he couldn’t laugh. Shisui really had been smuggling the three of them over here. Itachi and Sasuke had been banned from even looking at Tobi’s mangled face. How funny. How typical.

“Caught?” Itachi’s eyebrow creased subtly. Oh, this was too good. Itachi hadn’t even known that this would get him in trouble? Of course he didn’t. Itachi never broke a rule. “You said that people didn’t like to - you didn’t say that we couldn’t.”

Shisui smiled again, openly mocking and more than a little bitter. “Who cares if I do it? You’re the one who’s not allowed to do it. Why do you think that is, ‘Tachi?”

“Shisui, I don’t -”

Sharply, Mikoto said, “Shisui, don’t you -”

“They don’t want you to know who they’re making you into. They’re afraid that you’ll see your future in that face.” Shisui turned and faced Tobi completely, forcing his words onto his shoulders. “Heavens forbid you learn what’ll happen to you after you’re pushed too far.”

Everybody was looking at Tobi - everybody but Sasuke, who was confusedly staring up at his mother. Nobody was making any facial expressions, but Tobi knew these people. Mikoto’s body was tight and tense and deeply sad. Shisui stood like he was on the attack. And Itachi…

He understood what Shisui was saying. He already knew. Shisui hadn’t needed to say it at all - or he wasn’t saying it for Itachi’s benefit. Itachi just seemed resigned.

Meanwhile, Tobi just rounded on Shisui. He looked around, clearly registering the tangible tension and everybody’s clear distress. Kids were sensitive to this sort of thing. “Shisui-kun! Don’t say things that make Mikoto-nee so sad! You should apologize, right now!”

Shisui raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “Why did it make her sad?”

“Because - um…” Tobi floundered a little, looking back at the silent Mikoto and Itachi. “Because you said Itachi-chan’s gonna get hurt like me, and - and he’s not! You can’t know if that sort of thing will happen!”

“Hurt?” Sasuke asked, voice cracking. He was getting upset too, reacting to everybody else’s emotions. “What does ‘hurt like me’ mean?”

Immediately, Itachi said, “Nothing’s going to happen, Sas -”

“Tobi was kidnapped by enemy ninja at the end of the last war,” Mikoto said crisply. She put her hand on the top of Sasuke’s head, but she locked eye contact with Shisui. “They hurt him very badly, Sasuke. He had to retire as a ninja because of his injuries. That is what happened to Tobi.”

And, as always, Itachi backed up his mother immediately. Before Shisui could get a word in edgewise, Itachi told Sasuke, “Remember when I told you that Tobi-san is an adult, but he doesn’t understand the world like an adult does, or do things the way adults do? That’s because the enemy ninja hurt his brain. But that was during the war, and that’ll never happen to me.”

Sasuke’s brow furrowed deeply. “People’s brains only get hurt during wars?”

“Let’s go, Sasuke,” Mikoto said.

But Sasuke dug his heels in, and even when Itachi walked over towards him and put his hand on his shoulder he didn’t move. “You let me play with Cousin Daisuke who only has one arm. Nobody said Aniki’s going to grow up and have only one arm! Why is this different?”

“There’s many different types of wounds, Sasuke,” Itachi said quietly. “Leave it alone.”

“Yeah,” Shisui said, “and not all of them are obtained in war, either.”

Itachi stared down Shisui, and Shisui met his eyes with equal weight. They were Uchiha, Sharingan masters, and eye contact between them was heavy. They were almost brothers to each other, and they looked two seconds away from a genuine fight. Sasuke was at Itachi’s elbow. Watching them fighting here, fighting over…over…

“Why are we fighting?” Tobi cried, fingers tangling in his curly hair. “Are we fighting ‘cause of me?”

Itachi startled, turning to face Tobi as his eyes widened a fraction. “No. It’s - I’m sorry, Tobi, it’s not your fault.”

“It is my fault,” Tobi tugged at his hair, hunching his shoulders. “Tobi’s sorry that he made Itachi-chan and Mikoto-nee mad!”

Mikoto glared hard at Shisui, who blinked. He probably had never seen her make that expression. “Do you see why I wanted to have this conversation in private, Shisui? Who have you helped here?”

Itachi reached a hand out towards Tobi, with an unexpected expression on his face - truly distressed. “I’m not mad. Please don’t pull your hair.”

But Shisui just crossed his arms, unrepentant. “Hey, you’re the one who started this. I’m sick of letting everything go just to keep the peace.”

“Isn’t minimizing conflict more important than the truth?” Itachi snapped.

Wow. That was more vocal inflection than he’d ever heard from the kid. Tobi helped the kid out and made a miserable noise.

Surprisingly, it was Sasuke who leapt into action. He reached up on his tip-toes and very lightly smacked his mother on the arm. Then he turned around and smacked Itachi on the elbow, much harder. Both of his family members just stared at him, shocked. Then he ran back towards Shisui and smacked him on the stomach, far more ferociously than he had whapped the other two. A clear hierarchy.

“Whatever happened to being nice to Tobi! Aniki, you said Mama and Father fought in their bedroom because I hate it and I’m six. Tobi hates it too and he’s not like the adults, so why aren’t you and Shisui fighting in your bedrooms?” Sasuke propped his hand on his hip, outright wagging his finger at Mikoto. She looked appalled. “Mama, I will talk to you in my bedroom!”

Tobi felt his fingers drop from his hair, mostly from surprise. The others were also staring at Sasuke in surprise. Sasuke huffed and sidled closer to Tobi, pointedly taking his side. He reached out and grabbed Tobi’s calloused and worn hand in one miniature fist, squeezing it with a feather-light touch.

Sasuke stared up at him with wide and utterly harmless eyes. “I get scared when Mama and Father fight, and Aniki says that’s okay. If it’s okay for me then it’s okay for you too. Probably. Um.” Sasuke glared at Itachi, who blanched. “Aniki, say it’s okay for Tobi to be scared.”

Automatically, Itachi said, “It’s okay for Tobi to be scared.” More hesitantly, he added, “You didn’t need to be scared. I wouldn’t get mad at you.”

And Tobi grinned, all unhappiness forgotten. How could it not be? Itachi Uchiha said that there was nothing to worry about, and Itachi Uchiha was the god of a six year old. His word moved mountains and shook the heavens. “Tobi couldn’t be scared of Itachi-chan, no way!”

“You should be scared of him,” Sasuke informed Tobi. “Aniki’s a badass who can chop up five hundred people in five seconds. If he wanted you dead, it’d be like - bam! You’re already dead.” Itachi flinched. Mikoto gave Sasuke an extremely pointed look, and Sasuke’s eyes widened. “Oh. Um. Mama can talk to me in the bedroom too.”

“Maybe we should all talk.” Shisui sounded a little more solemn, a little less sure of himself. But when he glanced at Tobi, his eyes were as bright and clear as ever. “Do you mind if we all come back later, Tobi?”

Tobi’s grin broadened, and he waved broadly with his free hand. “Okay! But only if you promise to come back again!”

“I promise!” Sasuke said loudly, on everyone’s behalf. What a bossy kid.

Cute, though. Awfully cute. Tobi even kind of liked him. When’s the last time he felt a single positive emotion about a member of his clan? Even the innocent, blameless sort just evoked feelings of pity and anger in him. But looking at Sasuke now, bubbly little face so firm and dedicated, Tobi could only feel the faint stirrings of fondness. He was a good kid. Not like the rest of them.

It didn’t matter. At his age, Tobi had two B-rank missions under his belt. He’d killed - some quantity of people, Minato had always hid his own mission reports. Innocence just meant that the shit hadn’t happened yet. Give it ten years and Sasuke would end up just like the rest of his misbegotten family. There was nothing Tobi could do to change that.

He had tried. For Itachi’s sake, he had tried. He had never mentioned it, and maybe he didn’t remember, but Tobi had visited him pretty often when the kid was much younger. Unannounced and uninvited. Tobi usually only got away with a few minutes, but he made the minutes count. Mostly through relentlessly bullying Fugaku and Mikoto.

“Itachi-chan’s so cute!” Tobi had squealed, balancing on a pole on the exclusive main branch family training yard. It was sealed for privacy. Nobody knew how he had gotten inside. “Tobi remembers learning the same jutsu when he was that age! Is Itachi-chan in wetworks too?”

Tobi would knock on the door, asking for Itachi when he knew full well that the boy was on a mission. “Itachi-chan’s on another mission?” Tobi would ask, faux surprised. “Itachi-chan works so hard! Is Itachi-chan going to beat Tobi’s record for most missions at that age? There’s not really a prize…”

Shisui thought he was clever. He was beating his head against a brick wall. Tobi had tried to do exactly what he was doing. Many clan members had done what he was doing, if far more politely and stiffly.

It was no secret that Fugaku wanted Itachi to surpass Obito Uchiha. In some ways, he would: Obito hadn’t had the opportunity to become ANBU. In other ways, it was straight-up blatantly impossible. The petition to allow a young ninja to skip the Academy and test directly into genin just didn’t exist in peace time. Maybe Itachi had the record for youngest graduation, but Obito had skipped it. The number of missions, the number of kills, the number of B and A ranks: Itachi couldn’t catch up. And it fucking killed Fugaku.

And Obito’s Sharingan was the best. Everybody knew it. It was still the best, although nobody knew that. No amount of pushing Itachi would change reality.

But maybe it was necessary. Maybe Itachi would have to surpass Obito. Because if he didn’t surpass Obito then he would become Obito, and that was the silent and loudest fear of the clan.

The fear that only Shisui Uchiha had ever vocalized in front of Tobi. Only he had ever looked at Tobi as he said it. He had even winked at Tobi as he left. What sort of confidence grift involved saying the cruelest thing in front of the most fragile person?

When Shisui Uchiha returned, he returned alone. He knocked on Tobi’s door late at night, hoisting a large bottle of sake in the air and smiling brightly. Tobi was mildly surprised. All things considered, you could roughly equivocate that to shock.

“Shisui-kun?” Tobi craned his head, looking over Shisui’s shoulder. All he saw were cicadas grinding their gears in the thick night. “Where’s Itachi-chan and Sasuke-chan?”

“Just me this time.” Shisui held out the sake bottle, grin widening. “May I come in?”

“Um…” Tobi leaned away a little, nose wrinkling. “Booze smells bad…”

“More for me, then!”

Somehow, Tobi found himself sitting at his kotatsu as Shisui surveyed his house with undisguised interest. It was as messy and dirty as he probably expected, since Tobi really couldn’t work up the fucks necessary to keep it clean. The occasional grandmother always insisted on cleaning the whole thing top to bottom, so it never got too filthy. The fridge was full of food. Obito hadn’t seen the point in cooking, so Tobi enjoyed it well enough. It could be time intensive, but he had more than enough time on his hands. He gave a lot of it away to the grandmothers or injured ninja or new mothers anyway.

Shisui shamelessly poked his head into the back rooms. He’d find Tobi’s childhood bedroom cluttered with shelves of puzzles and games - Gai was always giving them to him - and a master bedroom full of boxes and giant racks of scrolls. Shisui had given him a curious look.

“Sensei and Kushina-nee left their stuff to me.” As well as their money, which was mostly locked up in a trust and dispensed to Tobi in an allowance. “I’m holding it for Naruto.” Shisui flinched. Tobi pretended he didn’t notice. “A lot of it is in storage, but I keep some of it here ‘cause it gets lonely by itself.”

Left unsaid: as Naruto was undoubtedly fucking lonely by himself. The kid’s ANBU guard wouldn’t even let him into the orphanage, so Tobi was forced to wait however long before he left. Hopefully by the time he was a genin he would be old enough to receive his family’s possessions and every story associated.

Shiui stuck his head inside a particularly heavy box, prodding the textbooks with one finger. “The Fourth knew medical ninjutsu?”

“Rin-chan left me her ninja gear. Said her parents wouldn’t want anything like it.” Tobi twirled a strand of hair around his finger, looking up at the ceiling. “Kakashi-kun left the Hatake stuff to Sensei, so that’s mine now too. I have to hire genin to clean out the house sometimes…”

Shisui almost fell into the box. He stepped back out into the hallway, apparently shocked. “You own the Hatake clan compounds?”

“Who else would?” Tobi shrugged, unbothered. “The house is probably really lonely, but Kakashi-kun wanted it that way. Tobi wants to give it to Naruto when he grows up.”

“You must care about the ki - Naruto a lot.” Shisui stepped back into the main room, moving towards the windows and glancing out from behind the drawn curtains. “You seem like a kind person, Tobi.”

Tobi just shrugged again. “It’s not Tobi’s things, so…”

“But you care about the things. You want them to be with somebody who would love them.” Shisui rattled the last window a little bit, satisfied, before moving back towards Tobi and sitting down across from him. “Your sensei’s scrolls look really cool. Can you read them?” Tobi stuck out his tongue and shook his head. “Aw, I wonder if they’re bored. Would it be alright if I read a few of them? They seem really cool to me!”

Whatever. Wasn’t as if Minato had any clan secrets. He had secret techniques, but Tobi had stuck those in a sealing scroll in the hollow of a tree. Impossible to access if you didn’t have an eye that turned you into a ghost. “Okay! Shisui’s my friend, he can read them for sure!”

“I’m glad we’re friends, Tobi,” Shisui said earnestly. He poured them both bowls of sake, holding one out to Tobi. “I’m always hanging out and having drinks with my friends, so I thought it’d be fun to do it with you too. This sake’s really nice and sweet, do you want to have a drink with me?”

Was this kid seriously trying to get him drunk? The absolute lack of ethics was pretty impressive. He knew he didn’t even have to be subtle about it, so he was acting completely shamelessly. But his phrasing was precise: Tobi always wanted to make friends and to be treated like anybody else, so he would accept the drink.

Tobi would have one or two, and if Shisui kept pressing then he’d use a jutsu to metabolize the rest. Then he’d snitch to Itachi. So Tobi cautiously took the sake bowl, sniffing it dubiously, but when Shisui knocked it back Tobi copied him.

“You were telling me about your favorite television shows earlier, right?” Shisui said, replacing his bowl on the table. His posture was absolutely open and friendly, and his words were easy-going but gentle. “Mega Warriors? What’s happening in the new season?”

“The Village Hidden In The Cave exploded!” Tobi cried heatedly. “It was awesome!”

Honestly speaking, Tobi genuinely loved that show. It killed higher brain functions. Good, clean action fun. He had developed a real taste for television and movies - stuff he never watched as a kid, stuff he barely knew existed. Maybe he watched a bit too much television, but that was the infinite joys of retirement. At least he didn’t sit on his front porch chewing tobacco leaves like every other retired ninja.

Shisui did a great job faking interest. Tobi had to assume it was fake: he had no tells, but no teenager would actually give a shit about a children’s television show. Eventually even Tobi was forced to take pity on the man and switch subjects. It said a lot that Tobi purposefully chose to stop being annoying, boring, stupid, or grating on somebody’s nerves. Fuck, maybe they were friends.

“Um, Shisui-kun?” Tobi swirled his bowl of sake absently. Shisui had refilled his bowl twice, but any more than two might be trouble. Kid really was trying to get him drunk. If he was so dead-set to lower Tobi’s defenses, then Tobi could counter-attack. “Why did you say those things to Mikoto-nee the other day?”

Shisui seemed surprised at the topic change from kid’s shows, but he sobered quickly. He leaned forward, gesturing at Tobi with his own sake bowl. “Because nobody was standing up for you. Nobody ever stands up for you, even when you need it. I wanted to let you know that I was on your side.”

Even Tobi wouldn’t buy this. He looked at Shisui a little skeptically. “Shisui-kun can be nice without being naughty and causing trouble.”

Shisui’s smile was rakish and sharp. “Sometimes a little trouble is what’s best for everybody. Loving somebody doesn’t mean always being nice to them. It means doing what’s best for them. You get that, right?”

“Um…maybe.” Tobi placed the sake bowl on the table, looking away a little awkwardly. “Sensei and Kushina-nee were nice too, though…”

“You think they did what was best for you?” Shisui asked quietly, and Tobi eagerly nodded. His expression softened. “I’m glad. I’m glad that people who loved you were nice and looked out for you. I’m getting worse and worse at the former, but Itachi says I’m not bad at the latter. Thank you for being patient with me.”

“It’s okay! Shisui-kun’s family.” Tobi hated his family more than he hated this village, which said a lot, but that wasn’t the right look. “Tobi thinks Shisui-kun’s really nice, so don’t say bad things about yourself.”

“Thank you, Tobi. We’re family, huh?” Shisui leaned in, dull eyes glinting in the soft lantern light. “Does that mean you trust me?”

He’d gotten to the point, then. Either Shisui decided it was the right time to make his move, or he decided that he couldn’t afford to wait any longer. If this was Tobi’s op he would have stretched it out for way longer, but he didn’t know what kind of time limit Shisui was working under. And Tobi had the habit of playing the long game, anyway.

Tobi bobbed his head in an enthusiastic nod, brimming with puppy-like sincerity. “Yeah! We’re family, and Shisui-kun is nice!”

With an odd and sideways sincerity, Shisui said, “Thank you for the trust.” He fell silent for a second, drumming his fingers on the table, before finally speaking again. “I hope you don’t mind, but I put some seals on the windowsills. We’re completely in private right now. Nobody can hear or see us.”

Tobi squinted at him, confused. Maybe he was a bit confused - his alcohol tolerance must have taken a hit over the years. He felt a bit too fuzzy and light for two bowls of sake. “Why did Shisui-kun do that…?”

“So you know that you’re safe,” Shisui said earnestly. He leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. “It’s just you and me, alright? I want you to know that nobody will ever know what we tell each other right now. I’m pretty good at keeping a secret. So is it okay if I ask you to tell me a secret right now?”

How far should Tobi let Shisui take this? He was making his move, and Tobi was admittedly deathly curious to know what he wanted. To know if he needed to deflect anything, and what he needed to deflect. If Shisui was onto him.

He couldn’t be onto him. The idea of him faking it hadn’t even crossed a single Uchiha mind. But Itachi and Shisui’s words echoed loud and clear in Tobi’s mind: that there were many different types of wounds, and many of them hadn’t occurred during war. Tobi would be unsurprised if Shisui had some idea that the damage was psychological instead of neurological. Genma, Kurenai, and Sarutobi had believed the same. Which was close to being onto him, but still very far from actually being onto him.

Focus, focus. It was more difficult than it should have been: the alcohol had hit him strangely hard, leaving him fuzzy and out-of-sorts, and -

The kid had drugged him. Son of a fucking bitch. Letting himself be drugged, fucking amateur hour up in here. He wasn’t up to date on his drug and toxin immunity conditioning. How could he not check the sake for drugs? He knew that the kid was running a grift on him, he should have been more careful. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

What was the specific kind of drug? Fuck, he couldn’t remember. It was definitely a sedative, maybe even a tranquilizer. Why would he use this specific type? Increase physical vulnerability - no point in that, Tobi wasn’t much of a combatant. Induce relaxation and calmness - maybe, if he was trying to avoid a meltdown. Make him more suggestible - that was certain. That had to be it.

So Tobi relaxed, letting his gaze soften and muscles untense. A hair slowly, he said, “I guess, if Shisui’s asking.”

Shisui’s eyes were dark and dull, and the lines under his eyes were almost as thick as Itachi’s. There was something deep and weighty in them, the Sharingan’s power palpable even when it was deactivated. You could grow lost in those eyes. Or suffocated by them.

“Will you show me your Sharingan?”

That was it. That was what Shisui had been after all this time. What the fuck else was anybody ever after. Tobi would give him the same answer he gave everybody. He shook his head and frowned. “Tobi can’t use the Sharingan anymore. Everybody knows that, Shisui.”

“If I walk you through the process, do you think you’ll be able to do it?” Shisui asked. “Do you need help molding the chakra? I can -”

“Tobi can’t do it,” Tobi said firmly. He’d had this conversation again and again and again. “Tobi hasn’t been able to do it for a very, very long time! Tobi’s tried! Tobi’s very sorry, but he can’t help Shisui-kun.”

“Were you awake when they took out your eye, Tobi?”

A hand pressed against the eyepatch, and Tobi realized too late it was his own. He couldn’t say anything. He should have a meltdown and chase off Shisui. But he had the feeling that Shisui couldn’t be chased away so easily.

“It must have been really scary,” Shisui said. Voice lilting, eyes dark. Almost hypnotic. “I know the Sharingan’s really scary too. But I need to see your Sharingan, Tobi. It’s really important. Won’t you show it to me?”

Tobi shook his head. He turned away, fully hiding his face. “No. Tobi can’t.”

“I think you’re capable of using it. I think the Sharingan’s very scary, and you don’t want to. But I think you can do it. Tobi, please.” Shisui leaned forward, heavy gaze pinning Tobi in place. “You have no idea how important this is. Please just show me your Sharingan.”

Tobi buried his face in his arms, squeezing his eye shut and separating himself from Shisui as thoroughly as he could without moving an inch. “No! Leave me alone, I can’t do it!”

“Look at me. Look at me, Tobi, please. Does your Sharingan look something like this?”

And, despite himself, Tobi looked.

Shisui’s eyes were blood red, and his pupils were spinning lazily. It kind of reminded Tobi of a shuriken, circular but sharp and ready to cut. It was fatter and softer than Tobi’s own, but it was similar enough that it was unmistakable.

Shisui Uchiha had the Mangekyo Sharingan.

Interesting. Tobi had thought he was the only one to unlock it since the Founder’s Era. That was what the scrolls seemed to imply, anyway. He had to do some serious digging and hunting and thieving before getting his hands on those top-secret scrolls, but it had been worth it. Anything was worth it, just to learn what the fuck had happened to him.

Guilt. Tobi eventually surmised that only the most intense guilt could unlock the Mangekyo. Tobi wondered what had made Shisui feel so guilty. Clearly it hadn’t stopped him from continuing to do morally dubious shit. After a guilt so intense and crushing, drugging his brain damaged cousin probably wouldn’t register on his radar.

“Your eye’s weird,” Tobi cried, horrified. “What did you do to your eye?”

But Shisui ignored him. “Is your eye weird too?”

“I can’t see my eye! My eye is gone!” Tobi raised his voice, injecting more and more hysteria into his voice. It wasn’t hard - he was just channeling the panic he was already feeling. Such was the essence of Tobi: the self who felt Obito’s emotions for him. “Are you jealous of my normal eye ‘cause yours is weird? Tobi’s sorry, but that’s not Tobi’s fault! I can’t help you!”

Shisui’s lips thinned, and for the first time he began to look resigned. “You can’t help me, or you don’t want to? Which is it?”

“I really can’t. I’m sorry, Shisui-kun, but I really can’t.” Tobi sniffled, expression contorted in distress and regret. “Don’t you know I want to? It made everyone so sad when I couldn’t. I really would if I could. I just can’t…”

“It’s okay,” Shisui said. He put his hands in his lap, obscuring them from view. “Let me help you. It’s not a good idea to do as much as I can right now, but I can at least do this much.”

“What are you -”

Tobi fell wide awake.

Tobi stood in training ground seven.

The sun was bright and hot, but the gentle breeze softened the blow. There was a distant rush of a stream, underlied by the constant cacophony of a hidden village, but their little forest always felt so still and peaceful. He was standing in the small clearing in the center of the training ground, encircled by trees softly pushed by the wind. Their leaves were crisp and orange - red, purple, brown.

Kakashi stood across from Tobi. Just a kid, slouching in his jumpsuit with his hands crammed in his pockets. He blinked lazily at Tobi. Tobi had forgotten that he never brushed his hair.

“Are you ready to start?”

Tobi blinked at Kakashi, lost. Why was he lost? He was in the training grounds. He looked down at himself and saw the outfit he used to wear. It was all blacks and grays. He had never lost the taste for those colors. “Bakashi…?”

“That’s me, apparently.” Kakashi yawned - which normally severely pissed Tobi off. Take this seriously, Bakashi! “You always work up Rin when you say that.”

“Rin?” Tobi looked around the grounds, suddenly filled with a bizarre desperation. “Where’s Rin?”

“She’s buying bento lunches for us with Sensei. If I don’t pretend to work he’s going to scold me again, so can we just get started?”

“Yeah…sure.” Tobi awkwardly arranged himself into a ready position. It was difficult to position his body correctly. It was as if he’d forgotten how to do it all, and was relying entirely on muscle memory. “Bakashi wants to practice taijutsu, right?”

“I never wanna practice at all, but sure.” Kakashi straightened, cracking his neck and meeting Tobi’s eyes dead on. There was something arresting and heavy about that gaze. “But you have to make it a challenge for me. Fight me using your Sharingan.”

Using his what? “That’s way more work than Bakashi likes.”

“I want to learn how to protect you. That means I have to get stronger.” Kakashi oriented himself into his own ready stance. It was - “Help me get stronger. Fight me with your Sharingan.”

Tobi shook his head, stepping backwards. His body fell out of its ready stance. His body didn’t want to fight. It was just so sick of it. “It was Tobi’s job to protect Kakashi. Tobi was the strongest, so Tobi should have done it. Kakashi feeling like he failed would make Tobi really sad.”

“Don’t worry about it, Obito. You aren’t a failure. Prove it to me, Obito - let’s train.”

“But I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Kakashi said. “I have faith in you, Obito. I know your strength is within you somewhere. Let’s draw out that strength together, Obito. To protect our precious people.”

That did it. Like stabbing yourself with a kunai or shocking yourself with electricity, that snapped him out of the genjutsu’s hold over his mind.

Tobi didn’t let you call him Obito. It infuriated him, in that special Tobi way. It wasn’t normally a problem: everybody had adapted remarkably quickly to his new name. But maybe that wasn’t such a surprise. It was very difficult to look at Tobi and see Obito. Nobody liked remembering who he once was. And nobody called him that unless they thought that they would be the lucky winners who achieved the miracle and brought Konoha’s greatest soldier out of retirement. Tobi only heard the name Obito when they wanted something out of him. Something that he couldn’t give. Could you blame him for hating the name?

“Stop calling me that!” Tobi screeched. He bent over double, clutching his head and curling in on himself. “Bakashi wouldn’t call me that! Bakashi loves me! This is made up!”

Insanely casually - so casually that Tobi knew he was making a rapidfire series of hand seals - Kakashi said, “No it’s not. You’re in training ground seven. Kakashi’s standing here with you. You want to turn on your Sharingan.”

“You’re lying! Liar, liar, liar!” Tobi pressed his hands over both eyes. Another hit from the Mangeyko might actually do him in. “Get me out of here, Shisui!”

Amazingly, Kakashi - Shisui, it was Shisui, Kakashi was dead dead dead - just sounded a little baffled. “You shouldn’t have seen through this. My Sharingan’s genjutsus are infallible. How the hell did you -” Shisui gasped, tripping over his own words. “You don’t need to turn on the Sharingan to have the resistance. The only eye that could match up to mine is - I knew it.”

Normally it was very easy to escape a genjutsu once you figured out the game. ‘Kai’ was a simple tool - the chakra equivalent of turning the television on and off again - but it was universally effective. Even the most complex genjutsus relied on the same fundamental physiological principles of the simplest genjutsu, and Kai disrupted all of them easily.

Tobi made the rat hand sign and shouted, “Kai!”. He opened his eyes and saw -

Kakashi’s face in front of him, only a hand’s width away. His eyes were blood red, spinning like a pinwheel, and the weight of his gaze was almost physical. Tobi locked eye contact with the spiked eyes and found himself unable to escape. His vision tunneled, then swirled, then -

Obito stood in training ground seven.

It was the same as ever. Team Minato’s little pocket of peace, where the cacophony of Konoha and the war was shut out of their world. It was hot enough that training would be a bit uncomfortable, but a real ninja always trained in all types of weather. Prepared for anything, that was Obito’s motto.

Kakashi stood across from Obito. As always, he was slouching in that baggy jumpsuit, hands crammed in his pockets and blinking lazily at Obito. Did he ever brush his hair?

“Are you ready to start?”

“I’m the one who’s been waiting here for an hour!” Obito yelled. He wasn’t sure about that, but it sounded right. “You’re the one holding us up! As always!”

“Maa, sorry.” Kakashi scratched the back of his neck. His body tensed infinitesimally. “I can switch out with Rin, if you want?”

Rin stuck out her tongue. She was sitting on the sidelines with Sensei, relaxing on the soft grass. Her thumb was stuck in one of her omnipresent romance novels. Next to her, Sensei was frantically scribbling over a scroll. “Save me from Obito on the warpath! I’ll take him after you’ve softened him up, Kakashi!”

“Ah,” Kakashi drawled, “so I’m bait again.”

Rin winked cutely. “I prefer the term human sacrifice.”

“Don’t practice human sacrifice,” Sensei said vaguely, without looking up from his scrolls. “That’s…bad. I think.”

“How overdue are those forms, Sensei?” Rin asked. Sensei made a mournful sound. Rin sighed and grabbed a few from the teetering pile next to him, taking a pen from her pocket as she cracked open the scroll. “You do the fighting, boys, I’ll work on something more important.”

“You’re my favorite,” Sensei said feelingly. He still didn’t look up from the scroll. “You are the best student of all time. You’ll definitely become Hokage when you grow up.”

“You never call me your favorite,” Obito said, wounded.

“You’re also my favorite.” Kakashi slowly raised a hand. “Kakashi is my other favorite. You’re all equally the best. Does anybody else want to help me with this formwork?”

Immediately, Obito and Kakashi said in sync, “We’re busy training.”

Minato’s pen flew across the scroll. “Lazybones, both of you.” Obito puffed himself up in indignation. “Joking! Start your match, you two. Whoever loses has to help me with my paperwork.” Oh, this had stakes now. Obito hated paperwork. Not that he told anybody that. “Don’t forget to use your Sharingan, Obito.”

Obito rolled his eye. He turned to Kakashi, sliding himself easily into a ready position. Across from him, Kakashi did the same. The guy only did work if you threatened him with more work. “Yeah, yeah. Not that I need the Sharingan to beat you, Bakashi.”

“You’ll need to master the Sharingan if you want to be my ANBU Commander,” Rin called out. “Don’t slack off now!”

“Why are you telling me not to slack off!” Obito cried, appalled. “Bakashi is right there -”

Kakashi raised his hand. “I’m just gonna be Rin-chan’s trophy husband.”

Obito flushed. “That’s - that’s useless, you know that? Be a productive member of society! Why would you waste your life being somebody’s husband?”

For the first time, Sensei looked up. He had the most tragically wounded look on his face. “My life dream is to be a husband.”

Rin looked unimpressed. “You’re next in line for Hokage, Sensei.”

“I never said that was my dream.”

“Then give it to me.”

“Not until you’re eighteen, kiddo.”

“Yeah,” Kakashi drawled, “Konoha won’t survive Hokage Nohara. Give us a few more years to put our affairs in order.”

“Are we going to train?” Obito cried, exasperated. “We’re wasting daylight! Stop joking around and focus!”

Kakashi gave Obito the fakest wounded look. “Joking around is my only joy in a dreary life, dobe.”

“Jokes are a waste of time.” Obito brought his fists up, activating his Sharingan on pure instinct. He could activate it quicker, more reflexively, more intuitively, than anybody else in his clan. “Now face me, Bakashi!”

The world swirled, then shattered.

Minato Namikaze and Rin Nohara disappeared on the tides of a spring wind. Before him, Kakashi Hatake’s image twisted away into nothingness. Only Shisui Uchiha stood behind him, hands held carefully in the rat seal, eyes swirling in a pinwheel.

When Obito met his eyes he startled and quickly jerked his eyes away, but he didn’t lose grasp of the illusion. It was no surprise that Shisui refused to meet his gaze: the heat of the Mangyeko burned behind Obito’s eyes.

“Ah,” Shisui said weakly, “you can see me.”

“You absolute brat.”

Shisui’s eyebrows jumped upwards. “Excuse me?”

Obito stalked forward, and Shisui unconsciously leaned back. Obito was vaguely conscious that he must be releasing some killing intent. The Mangyeko’s corrosive power probably magnified that killing intent into a dangerous aura.

“What did you think would happen?” Obito snapped. “My eyes are more powerful than yours. Seeing through this shoddy genjutsu is child’s play. What are they teaching the Uchiha kids these days? If you’re the picture of a Uchiha genius then I hate to see a commonplace Konoha ninja.”

Shisui froze, eyes widening. “Cousin Obito. It really is you…” Obito lifted an unimpressed eyebrow, and Shisui hurriedly bowed slightly. “I’m Shisui Uchiha. It’s good to see you again, Obito-san. I don’t know if you remember, but we met a few times when I was a kid -”

Obito flapped a hand, cutting off the suddenly polite child. “Yeah, your parents were always showing you off. They wanted me to take you as an apprentice once the war was over.” Shisui froze. Nobody had told him that. No surprise. “Obviously you must have made something great of yourself, since you’re wasting time casting industrial grade genjutsus on me. And drugging me. Thanks for that.”

“It was important!” Shisui cried. He stepped forward, but they both kept avoiding each other’s eyes. “I couldn’t explain to Tobi why it was important, otherwise I would have, I promise.” Yeah, sure. “Don’t give me that look. Do you think I liked doing this?”

“It’s cruel,” Obito said shortly, and Shisui flinched hard. For the first time, Obito wondered if Shisui had a fragile personality. “Go on, then. Tell me what’s so important that you had to somehow find me.”

Shisui took a deep breath. He set his shoulders straight, as if he was finally being brave, but in the end he looked away completely from Obito. “About five years ago, I was on a routine mission with my best friend. We just had the worst fight of our lives. I barely even remember what it was about, but I was so mad. I remember feeling this burning jealousy and panic…maybe it was because of his promotion over me or something. The clan had just begun putting a lot of pressure on me, and he made me feel like a failure. And the routine mission…went bad.” Shisui halted a second, heaving deep breaths, before speaking again. “I just remember thinking that he’s going to take my place as the Uchiha genius. I had that thought at the exact moment he needed me. And he died. Because of a fight over something I don’t even remember and jealousy over a position I never even wanted. I remember realizing this, the truth of my actions fully hitting me, and how I started crying blood. When I looked in a pool of water, I saw that my eyes had turned into this. Fugaku could only guess that the shock and trauma mutated my eyes into this strange form, but that never made sense to me.”

Wait, hold on. “‘Into its strange form’?” Obito asked harshly. “‘Shock and trauma?’. Why didn’t Fugaku tell you about the Mangekyo Sharingan?”’

Shisui stared blankly at the ground. “The what now?”

Holy fucking shit. “Nobody told you about your own fucking eye?”

“You know?” Shisui cried, and for the first time he raised his eyes to meet Obito’s own eyes. For the first time, Obito saw the desperation in them. “You know what happened to me? Who told you? Does anybody else know?”

Obito snorted. “Nobody told me. I found out the information for myself.” The ability to become a ghost was fantastic for entering secret vaults, and Madara had written half of ‘Clan Secrets’ in a script that only the Mangeyko could read. Obito knew more about this clan than its fucking hundred year olds. “You guessed what the activation criteria was, didn’t you? That’s why you sought me out. You wanted to see if the other genius Uchiha who murdered his friends scored the bonus too.”

“I was right!” Shisui clenched his fist, eyes spinning in a sick blur. “Our conversation right now confirms it! This thing happened to me because of what happened that day. You and I both failed to save our best friends. I just need to know what it is, how I can use it. I know it can do more than a powerful genjutsu every so often.”

And, because the kid had gone through such incredible amounts of effort for this moment - because he seemed to have reached a level of desperation that could only ever grow deeper and more rotten - Obito told him.

“Maybe Fugaku didn’t tell you because he thought you must have a different eye. Or maybe he thought you were lying to him. Fuck, maybe only the elders know this information anymore. The Uchiha clan believes that the Mangeyko Sharingan is only obtained through killing your best friend.” Shisui’s face turned pale, but Obito shook his head. “No. It’s activated when you watch the loss of the person you love. Personally, I think that it activates when you feel responsible for that loss. When the guilt murders you, when it breaks you, and when a new power rises to fill the void within you.”

Shisui looked away. “Lots of Uchiha have seen a loved one die. But…not that many get the person they loved killed, huh?”

“This information is kept under wraps so nobody goes around trying to kill their loved ones. It wouldn’t work, anyway. Nobody who kills the person they love the most for an eye could ever feel guilty about it.” A sword through a heart. A boulder through a chest. “The Mangekyo strengthens your natural Sharingan. It gives you the ability to summon Susanoo, our clan’s greatest and most ultimate weapon. And it has a technique unique to its wielder. Yours is related to a genjutsu, right?”

Shisui nodded eagerly. “I’ve never used it, but I can sense it. I think it can brainwash people. I sense that it has a long cool-down, but the brainwashing must be absolute. What’s Susanoo? How can I wield it?”

“Visit the sacred shrine in the woods behind the main house. Use your Mangeyeko to read the writing on the wall scroll, then follow its instructions.” Wait, that implied that Obito had discovered all of this after he had brain damage. “I found it while searching for forbidden techniques right before the war ended. These are our most dangerous secrets, Shisui. Tell no one.”

“An ultimate weapon,” Shisui said quietly. He was standing stock-still right in front of Obito, but something inside of him was tensing with excitement. “I bet it could turn the tides of a war. The peace that this weapon could bring…I could bring peace to the Uchiha and Konoha -”

No. Wait, kid, slow your roll. That wasn’t why Obito had fucking told you this.

“Are you joking?” Obito asked flatly. “The Mangeyko could start a war between the Uchiha and the rest of Konoha. Nobody can ever find out about this. You should never use this power.”

“But they’d see the value the Uchiha could bring!” Shisui protested. “The Hokage would know how powerful we are, what an asset we are to the village! If they just respected us -”

“They already think we released the Kyuubi,” Obito snarled, “how would showing off a brainwashing power remotely make them hate us less?”

“Then I’ll brainwash them too!” Shisui cried, and Obito stopped short. “I don’t care how long the cool-down is! I’ll just brainwash the Hokage, tell him to accept us back into the village, and - and wouldn’t that be the best way to fix this? It’s peaceful, easy, and it doesn't hurt anyone!”

Did this kid just fucking say that brainwashing somebody doesn’t hurt them? That explained so fucking much - and how much did that say.

Obito grabbed the kid’s collar, reeling him in and shaking him. He realized a little too late that the kid was shorter than him - that Obito’s hand was strong and large. He was an adult again. “Weapons cannot bring peace!” Obito snarled. “Harm does not cure hatred! Committing greater and greater atrocities will not achieve the impossible!”

“They’re not atrocities!” Shisui didn’t struggle in his grip. He just looked at Obito, bright and pleading. As if he truly did want Obito to understand. “And it’s not impossible! Restoring peace between the Uchiha and Konoha has to be possible. They’re depending on me to make it happen. Itachi’s depending on me to make it happen. I’ll do anything if it saves the people I love!”

“You’re a fool,” Obito said coldly. “An idealistic fool. In searching for a perfect solution, you’ll ruin everything. Compromises must be made. If you truly wish to save the people you love, then sacrifice the people you don’t. But there is one thing you must never sacrifice, Shisui.”

Something in Shisui was so broken. Obito saw it in those red eyes now. “Obito-san…”

“Don’t lose who you are.” There was something aching and broken in Obito’s chest. It scratched his chest with a thousand micro-tears, ripping him open bit by bit from the inside. “Don’t sacrifice your integrity. Don’t parcel out parts of yourself to those who would consume them. Don’t you understand? Those who break the rules are trash, but those who abandon their comrades are worse than trash!” Obito faltered for the first time - not uncertain, but almost afraid. “You’re a good kid, Shisui. Don’t sacrifice who you are for the sake of people who will use you up and spit you out. You deserve better than that. I…deserved…”

He was no longer gripping Shisui’s collar. He was staring far into the distance, lost. The training ground was bright and cheerful, softened by memory and time, and his teammates were far away. They would never come back. There was no home to return to.

A weight looped around his neck, a body pressed against his, and he realized too late that Shisui was hugging him. It was an awkward and strange weight. Obito couldn’t return the embrace. Holding him like this, forehead pressed against his chest, Shisui felt like nothing more than a scared fourteen year old. As scared and confused as Obito had once been, the day he made his awful choice.

“Do you want me to kill you?” Shisui muttered. “Everyone says that you’re better off dead than…”

Their family was so fucking insane. Shisui thought he was being nice right now. Obito just sighed and put his hand on top of Shisui’s head, indulging a moment of insanity and ruffling his hair. Only Tobi would have ever done that.

“A life is the most precious thing,” Obito said bluntly. “Our society treats people like they’re cheap, lives as if they’re expendable. They’re wrong. Life and living…no matter how difficult the circumstances, we must value life above all else.”

Shisui pulled away, rubbing at his spinning eyes. For the first time he truly seemed miserable. “I don’t care about sacrificing myself for my clan. My life isn’t more important than Mom’s or Dad’s or Itachi’s or Sasuke’s. But are their lives more important than the safety of Konoha? If Konoha’s not safe, they aren’t safe. I don’t know what to do.”

“You can’t please both the Uchiha and the village,” Obito said bluntly. “You’re trying to play both sides and avoid making a decision. Your efforts will topple like a house of cards. And those you tried to save will use you.” Obito put both hands on Shisui’s shoulders, squeezing tightly. He looked him dead in the eyes, hoping that his own gaze was still weighty enough to say what words couldn’t. “Don’t trust Danzo. He wants our eyes for himself. Don’t trust the clan elders. They just want power. Tell nobody about our eyes, Shisui. You must protect both of us. If you don’t, the consequences will be catastrophic.”

Shisui nodded, eyes wide. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Obito-san.”

Not the potential problem. If Obito got busted he’d probably just blow up half the compound and book it. Honestly, he should have already done that. He didn’t know why he was still around. Maybe it was just inertia. Maybe he didn’t want to fend for himself. Maybe he was weak - but there was no ‘maybe’ about that.

“Good. Listen to me now. Hopefully, after this we’ll never speak again.” If the kid tried to pull this a second time then his life was about to become markedly un-precious. “Persevere, Shisui-kun. Value your life. But do not accept evil, in others or in yourself. And remember…remember…” Obito smiled despite himself, shoulders falling. “Remember to have fun, alright? Treasure your one and only life.”

Shisui looked as if he was about to cry, which was assuredly the worst possible outcome of a conversation with a teenager. Obito’s words hadn't even been nice. Had this kid received no positive reinforcement at all? Would Tobi have to be nice to him?

But Shisui just stepped backwards and bowed to Obito at the waist. The sight of a modicum of respect had grown depressingly novel. “I’m sorry that we’ll never meet again, Obito-san. I’ll study the Mangekyo and unlock its full power. I’ll protect you and Itachi and Sasuke. I promise.”

“Promise me that you’ll trust nobody,” Obito said sharply. Shisui straightened, but he only looked away again. “Live. Even at the expense of everything else. Now get us out of here, you have to be exhausting yourself.”

Shisui formed his fingers into the rat seal, hesitating briefly. “What should I tell Tobi?”

“It’s your life,” Obito said, “not mine.”

His vision tunneled, then faded away, and Obito woke up.

Tobi jerked himself awake.

What the fuck. What the fuck had that been? Tobi hadn’t known that he could be trapped in a genjutsu. And Shisui went through all of that effort for - what, chasing a hunch? World peace? A fourteen year old’s idea of problem solving, i.e. brainwashing as many people as possible? Shisui had built a genjutsu even Obito couldn’t escape from. He was wasting his life with that damn loyalty.

Yes - Obito hadn’t been able to escape the genjutsu. He had thought he had. Maybe he couldn’t leave physically, but he had reasoned his mind was intact and uninfluenced. Through the benefit of hindsight, Tobi could see what a delusion that had really been.

Tobi did not drop the act. Ever. There should have been no ‘accessing the dead genius inside of the moron’. The moron was the genius, that was the point. The first wave hadn’t fooled him - Tobi had been together enough to keep the Tobi mask on, even in the face of such noxious nostalgia. But the second wave pulling him even deeper into his psyche had been too much. Shisui had peeled the mask away, giving him what he expected to see and giving Tobi what he never thought he’d see again. It hadn’t even occurred to him to lie. First he was drugged, then he was caught in a genjutsu…fucking amateur hour up in here.

“Tobi? Are you alright?”

Rich fucking sentiments from this kid. But Tobi groaned anyway, realizing that his head was pillowed on his arms folded on the table. A light grip shook his shoulder, and he forced his aching head upwards to stare blearily at the faux-concerned Shisui.

“I think I drank too much,” Tobi groaned. “I had a weird dream.”

Shisui’s face was stone, but that was no surprise. “What did you dream about?”

Tobi yawned widely, pushing away toppled bowls of sake. “That I was walking on a tightrope, and if I fell I’d die. One part of the ground was boiling water, and the other part was lots of fire. It was super scary. Then I fell and…I don’t know where I landed…”

If Shisui was surprised that he didn’t dream of the obvious thing, he didn’t show it. He just clasped Tobi’s elbow, gently helping him upwards. “Sounds scary. Let’s get you to bed, alright? Thanks for hanging out with me, I had fun.”

“Tobi’s happy that we had fun.” Tobi yawned widely, covering his mouth with both hands, but he slitted a sharp look at Shisui from the corner of his eye. Shisui always stood in Tobi’s field of vision. “Did Shisui-kun get what he wanted?”

Shisui froze. This was a risky move on Tobi’s part, but he knew that it would pay off. “What I wanted?”

“Tobi used to be a very good ninja,” Tobi said reproachfully. “Tobi can taste gross things in his drink.” Shisui jerked backwards, paling. “Did Shisui-kun get what he wanted?”

“I…” Shisui looked away, but Tobi watched as he forced himself to stare directly into Tobi’s eyes. Tobi wondered what he was searching for - the Mangekyo? Obito? Or if he only knew that Tobi wouldn’t register eye contact as a threat? “No. I got what I was looking for, but…not what I wanted. I’m sorry. I hurt you for no reason.”

What had Shisui truly wanted? Maybe even he didn’t know. Maybe he had wanted somebody like him. Life as a genius was lonely. Maybe part of him, silly and irrational as he knew it was, hoped that his eye could ‘fix’ Tobi where everyone else had failed. Or maybe part of him had wanted an adult he could trust, and all he received was a man who hadn’t seen daylight for a long time.

Tobi put a hand on Shisui’s head. He smiled down at him, bright and easy. “It’s okey-dokey, Shisui-kun! If you need help, just come to Tobi. Got it?”

“Got it,” Shisui said quietly. “Thank you.”

“No problem - wow, I’m dizzy!”

Shisui helped Tobi to bed, and he gratefully fell unconscious. It was the best night’s sleep he’d had in forever. Honestly? Made the whole thing worth it.

The Sharingan etched what it saw into its bearer's mind forever. The Mangekyo’s power could make you feel as if you were still there - forever trapped within that moment.

Kakashi’s crushed body. Rin’s smile as Obito impaled her. Kushina’s lifeless body. And the rising tidal wave of corpses behind them: the dozens of ninjas Obito had killed in his life, the untold quantities of destruction and death he’d witnessed with his own eyes. Obito remembered the faces of every person he’d ever killed. It wasn’t a small number.

Tobi forgot. At some point, Tobi had become the only way to forget. He never used the Mangeyko Sharingan: not just afraid of its power, but incapable.

He did not realize he had a whole-ass personal dimension until much, much later. This was what he got for running from his problems.

#my writing #naruto fanfiction #obito uchiha #shisui uchiha #sasuke uchiha #mikoto uchiha #this au exists bc i was writing tobi in sakuragakure and i was like #'wow i wish i could write tobi literally nonstop for the entire story'#in the end the tobi here is markedly different from the tobi in sakuragakure or canon #because he has different aims and is used for a different purpose #but still fun to write #still struggling to figure out how on earth to make a coherent narrative out of alla this

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batbabydamian · 5 months ago

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The Boy Wonder #2 by Juni Ba rambling about Gotham's fearsome hunter

added Jason to this issue's collage since it was mainly from his perspective!

ramble for issue #1 here!

starting with the cover again, but now in contrast to the first:

Dick and Barbara are presented as statues in the bg for the first cover where they’re established heroes in a secure time in their lives, and Damian is obviously the highlight! For #2's cover, the autumn leaves motif returns, but this time featuring Jason!! Apparently, Damian isn’t the only one to go through a “season of change” in this series, as Jason takes his own steps forward by the end of this story 🥺 also the literal layers on Jason - his angry Red Hood helmet and the beaten down Robin head...

The issue opens with Joe the robber and his hostage "Merle"! The glasses feels like a giveaway that this is Carrie(??) narrating Damian's story, so the final issue could end with her perspective for where Damian currently is in his journey as Robin and where she plays a part.

Jason as the "hunter" of this fairytale is such a cool concept, especially upon his introduction pages!! He's surrounded by his recent "prey" with a nice contrast of their fancy jackets, pinstripe pants, and dress shoes to Jason's own tattered hoodie, pants, and sneakers.

Just like the past issue (or just Ba's work in general lol), THE BACKGROUNDS ARE SO LOVINGLY DRAWN. Makes Jason's stroll through inner Gotham so enjoyable from the bustling activity of the people, shop signs, and advertising to the quieter area of the cemetery. It's so lived in, especially feels like each citizen in the bg has a story to tell!

some bits of interest to me: is that scaly lil arm reaching for the rat supposed to be Croc LOL; just neat visual of old Joker posters leering over Jason; the name of the cemetery a nod to Kevin Conroy? and from T. Wayne - Thomas Wayne?

Despite showing how much of an intimidating and hardened exterior the Red Hood has, there's plenty of suggestion that he has soft edges! from his act of revenge for a beloved member of the community, his familiarity with the people even greeting him, and down to his chocobar...

might be my overthinking but the layers of that close up shot of the chocobar really got me 😭 it's like such a piece of innocence when seen in his scarred hand, especially when "Wayne Sweets" is visible - is it more emphasis of Jason clinging to a safer time and Bruce Wayne himself?? or is this brand just his favorite lil treat

EITHER WAY, incredibly funny to me Jason seems to hide it once Damian shows up

Seeing Ba's storyboards has me even more curious about his process with O'Halloran - like, it's a small detail but the traffic light in the foreground being red! added emphasis on the red theme this issue, or a warning for these two to Stop heading into a trap? ANYWAY DAMIAN HESITANTLY ASKING ABOUT HIS MOTHER I'M THROWING UP AWWGH

also love critically acclaimed animated film "The Cheetah King" haha! ALTHOUGH, Jason's story does line up with Simba's - a lost prince that feels like he's failed his father. Even believed to be dead for a period of time lol

Rok the demon's design is so slick!! Seems to take after a peacock with how fanciful he is, plus his tail details in his other form! A dapper demon definitely ready for the gala!

A GLIMPSE OF BA'S HEAVIER ACTION ART!! THE POUNCE!! the Robins being entirely made up of motion lines, even the details for Jason's helmet; and i'm always a sucker for those light streaks from the eyes!! THE PUNCH!! the quick panel of Jason's fist before arcing into that POW!!

and i say a glimpse, because in just the two other books i've read from Ba so far, he draws so much more action. lil Monkey Meat promo BUT LOOK!! have i mentioned how much i love his sfx lettering...that "AAAH" getting motion lines when closer to the camera...crazy...

dropping another small element from one of his books, Djeliya! just a really cool visual of casting magic!!

I love this sequence leading up to the Joker vision! The shapely flames that dwindle into the shape of TEARS!! We don't get the extent of how deeply the Joker affected Jason until this moment and the man is terrified.

First thing Damian does after getting shot is insult Jason, DAMIAN IS SO FUNNY. Also absolutely love the wiggly woggly lines of EVERYTHING in this panel.

Considering what Damian said earlier: "We both know you'd rather not have to explain your failure to father if anything happens to me that you could have prevented." As if Jason didn't already feel like a failure before this!! of course he'd turn into jiggling jelly realizing what he's done.

After 27 pages of a narrow-eyed Red Hood, including an early tease of him about to take off the helmet for his snack, this full page of Jason unmasking himself is such a heavy reveal. Adding the aching piece of dialogue?? BRUTAL

Damian responds in kind to the vulnerability with his own confession and something Jason really needed to hear after burdening himself for so long with the idea of being a failure.

After Damian leaves, the camera pulls back to show The Door in the dark of the room. Damian quite literally presents Jason a window of opportunity to face his past, and it goes so hard. Just like the buildup of frowning mask-to-face reveal, Jason's few expressions have mostly looked sad. So the shadowed eyes before the glare of determination makes this quiet moment feel extra epic!! also reminiscent of the Red Hood mask he wears!!

Beyond the door of Jason's "past life" is complete darkness. Jason has been hoping for Batman to pull him out of it (as further suggested by the newspaper clippings), but in the final page, the door is leaking light!! Jason finds his own way forward :')

The first issue introduces the Robins with specific labels, and so far the narrative either delves deeper into those claims or challenges it. Damian is unimpressed by "kind and brave" Dick and even forms some kind of rivalry. By the end, Damian’s learned how those simple traits are essential to becoming the person and hero Dick has become and gains a newfound respect for him.

#2 deviates from #1 by following “brash and rageful” Jason's perspective! Damian is under pressure from the legacies of all the Robins before him, and even if he relates to Jason the most there's still tension. This time around, while Damian does learn what lies behind the mask, he's the one to impart some knowledge to his fellow Robin.

ending ramble with a panel of the small beans

"Look Damian, everything the light touches is our kingdom."

TBH this ramble took forever to start because after reading Djeliya and Monkey Meat, i was so floored by how much MORE Ba has to offer. Everything i raved about from the first issue of The Boy Wonder...Ba's done it all in his previous work and MORE SO?? on top of writing, whimsical paneling and lettering, fun action scenes, deliberate coloring, kickass character designs and worldbuilding... the man does it all?? 😭

Monkey Meat 🐒

Djeliya: A West African Fantasy Epic ✌️

Mobilis: My Life with Captain Nemo

The Unlikely Story of Felix and Macabber

i may save the last two books for after The Boy Wonder ends because imagining the end of the series makes me so sad LOLL orz i may cave just because Mobilis is a pleasantly giant book...praying for DC to give the collected edition of The Boy Wonder this treatment...his pages are brimming with energy they deserve to be blown up with an oversized printing 😭

#rambling #might sound even less coherent bc i'm sick again but this issue is So Solid oh my god #it's such a complete and satisfying arc for Jason in this one single issue my mind is blown #this series is so good for anyone to read on an entry level or avid fan #it's basically fantastic storytelling for any but the inclusion for fans is an extra 'this is kinda why i love this character!'#but yeah cannot emphasize enough how much of what makes Boy Wonder a stunner is done in his own projects #a lot of themes of legacy and family like. who better to have made a Robin fairytale than this guy??#the boy wonder

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year ago

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{14} - Morning Mist - Yandere!Dragon!Ateez X Chubby!Reader

Yandere AU & Dragon AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Yeosang and Yunho)

Words: 8,901

Warnings: Allusion to assault/boundaries not being respected. Violence/Fighting. Brief moments of fatphobia and homophobia near the end (not done by any of the guys). I think that's all, honestly. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Oof, it's really been forever since I've updated this series... my apologies for that! Honestly, I've been thinking about it a lot lately, and I might focus a bit of my attention to getting out a few more parts of this series over the next few weeks or so, but that's still to be decided. Anyways, a bit of a nicer, longer chapter update for you guys. I really hope you all like it! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I do not do tag lists.

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve - Chapter Thirteen - Mini Masterlist

“Good morning.” A soft smile tugs at your lips as you greet the two males already waiting for you at the entrance to your village.

As soon as they hear your voice, they’re both turning to face you. A satchel is slung over your one shoulder, the material a deep green in colour as you adjust the strap lightly.

“Morning.” The corner of Yunho’s lips twitch upwards.

All you receive from Yeosang in a stiff nod in response.

Perhaps he’s not a morning person.

“Ready to go?” You inquire, looking between them both.

A grunt is all you receive from the shorter male as the taller of the two nods in response. You quirk a brow.

The first few steps down the path and out of the village are silent, each male settling in on either side of you.

“Have you both eaten this morning?” You inquire casually.

“Joong wouldn’t let us leave unless we had something.” Yunho hums in acknowledgement. “He’s always looking out for us in that way.”

The corners of your lips twitch upwards as you nod faintly, “He’s a good clan leader.”

Little do you see the way Yeosang’s one eye twitches at your words.

“Have you eaten?” Yunho’s tone is light, sparing a glance at you out of the corner of his eyes as you continue down the path.

“I’m not much of a breakfast person.” You reply, a simple shrug to your shoulders.

“You should eat something.” Yeosang’s first words to you this morning are terse, the male staring straight ahead.

“I will. When I’m hungry.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards in amusement.

“How far is it to Rose Village?” Yunho asks, keeping pace with you as he spares a glance over at his brother on your opposite side.

“About a forty minute walk,” you hum. “Five, if we were to fly.”

“So, we’re walking because…?” Yeosang’s brow furrows, finally turning to you for the first time today.

“You should learn to not always rely on your wings,” You reply, somewhat stiffly. This time, it’s you who doesn’t meet either of their gazes as you stare straight ahead. “You may not always be able to use them.”

“Well, I think utilizing our legs will be good for us.” Yunho grins, purposefully stretching his arms above his head. “It’s nice to get out of the house every now and then.”

“Yes, the world is quite beautiful, if you’re brave enough to explore it.” You hum in agreement. “It has much to both offer and to teach us.”

You see understanding pass over both male’s features.

“Hwa told Joong that you said you’re willing to begin training us?” Yunho attempts not to look too eager, but there’s a certain gleam in his eyes that you still pick up on.

“If you are all still willing to be taught-“

“Yes.” Yeosang clears his throat, noting the way both you and Yunho immediately turn to look at him. “Please.”

“Very well.” You smile faintly. “When would you like to begin?”

“As soon as possible, if that’s alright with you.” Yunho responds, a sudden giddiness to his steps.

“That can be arranged.” You nod once, firmly. “We can start now, if you’d like?”

“While we’re walking?” Yunho’s brow furrows.

“While we’re walking.” You confirm. “Though, I must say, learning is a collaboration, so you shouldn’t hoard what I teach you to yourselves. You’ll never grow as a clan that way.”

Yeosang’s breath catches slightly in his throat. “We understand.”

“No wonder San and Wooyoung have been so eager to share your teachings with us,” Yunho mumbles.

“My rule of thumb is: if you can teach someone else what you’ve learned after you’ve learnt it, then you understand the lesson being taught.” You say, adjusting the strap of your bag over your shoulder lightly. “Everyone learns differently, and of course you can cater specifics to your own needs, but the base is usually the same.”

“You’ve been saying this whole time that you wouldn’t teach us, but you have been.” Yeosang observes. “Through them.”

“I take no credit for what you’ve learned from your brothers.” You shake your head. “That’s all from them.”

“Hwa’s got some catching up to do…” Yunho sighs, an amused quirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Something tells me that both him and Canary Man are getting the rundown on everything while we’re gone today.” You hum, somewhat knowingly.

“I don’t know how you did it, but there seems to have been a shift in Seonghwa over the past few days. Ever since he came back home from seeing you, it seems as if he’s calmer.” Yunho states, his gaze darting to you once more.

“All it takes is one moment of kindness to show you a new perspective on life,” you smile softly. “I simply extended a hand out to him, just as I wish someone did for me when I was in that situation. He was the one that accepted the offer.”

“When you were in that situation?” Yeosang is quick to catch on to your words.

“Your eldest and I are a lot more alike than you think.” You tell them. “I was in the exact same place as he was, once. I almost lost myself, and he could have, too. I’ll be damned if I ever let anyone go through what I went through without helping them.”

“You’re wise beyond your years.” Yunho praises.

“You make me sound so old,” your nose scrunches in distaste.

Yeosang actually lets out a puff of laughter at the way Yunho begins sputtering out apologies.

“I’m just teasing you, Young One.” You chuckle. “I appreciate the compliment, all the same.”

The tips of his ears begin to turn red as he clamps his mouth shut.

Yeosang clears his throat. “Our training?”

“Ah, yes,” you nod. “How would you like to begin?”

“Shouldn’t you decide that for us?” Yunho quirks a brow, managing to get his bashfulness under control for the moment.

“I don’t want to be teaching you stuff you already know.” You shrug. “I’ve never seen you in a fight, nor do I know how strong your senses have become since the first time we met.”

“I thought you knew everything.” Yeosang blinks, almost innocently at you.

You laugh, “Not everything, Yeosang.”

You swear you see a shiver caress his spine as you say his name.

“Well, what do you know of our powers?” Yunho asks, nothing but curiosity shining in his eyes.

“If you’re incurring whether or not I know what type of dragon you are, Yunho, then you should be specific.” You shoot him a small look. “Speak of your own desires before you assume to know someone else’s.”

He swallows thickly. “Then, do you?”

“Do I, what?” You press, quirking a brow all the while.

“Know what type of powers I possess?”

“I do.” You hum.

He frowns, “How?”

You smile, almost tenderly. “Your youngest seems to enjoy talking about all of you to me as much as he enjoys talking about me to you.”

You hear Yeosang take in a deep breath beside you, almost exasperatedly.

“So, Jongho told you.” Yunho nods his understanding.

“For the most part,” you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag. “I can sense more than presences if I focus, you know.”

“Is there anything you can’t do?” Yunho breathes, a wondrous look shining in his eyes as he looks at you.

Yeosang lets out another puff of air.

“Quite a few things, actually,” you confirm with an amused grin. “But that’s not important right now.”

“So, then,” Yunho hums, his body half turning more towards you in eagerness, “What’s my power?”

Nothing but mirth dances within your gaze as you see Yunho practically vibrating with excitement as he continues to walk alongside you. Yeosang seems to have slowed slightly, his shoulders curling in on himself as he crosses his arms over his chest. A small frown pulls at his features, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looks irritated.

You meet Yunho’s gaze.

“Earth.” You state. “Rather, the minerals that fill the ground.”

Yunho smiles, nodding quite enthusiastically along with your words.

“It’s very fitting,” you add. “From what some of your brothers tell me, you are quite a stable rock in their lives.”

His blush returns, Yunho suddenly wiping his palms on the sides of his thighs bashfully. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” you chuckle. “Thank your brothers.”

Yunho spares a brief glance at Yeosang, noticing how the aforementioned male looks so irate.

“What’s the matter, Yeo?” Yunho’s head tilts slightly in worry. “You were probably the second most excited after San when we learned she would teach us.”

At this, your brow quirks.

Heat immediately flares to Yeosang’s cheeks, the male avoiding your gaze as he mumbles out a ‘just tired.’

“Well, it is quite early,” you hum in agreement. “We’ll be at Rose Village soon, anyways.”

“Is there anything we can practice while we walk?” Yunho inquires eagerly.

“Hone your senses.” You reply, almost instantly. At the way they both spare a curious look at you, you’re quick to continue, “You’ve been doing so already, that much I can tell. However, it isn’t enough. You,” turning your sharp gaze to the side, you meet Yeosang’s eyes, “should be able to sense things with the breeze for miles. It should get to the point where you don’t even need to expel any excess energy to do so; it should become second nature.”

He nods, eyes sharpening as he focusses on sensing the wind almost immediately after you stop talking.

“And you,” you turn your pointed stare to Yunho who straightens almost immediately, “should be able to sense the vibrations in the earth as to where your enemies are. Know your surroundings; hone your senses.”

“How do we know if we’re doing it properly?” Yeosang questions, his lips slightly pursed in concentration.

“You will feel as if you’ve become one with your surroundings.” You reply. “Having the powers you do helps tremendously, for when the time is right, such elements will feel as if they are speaking to you. Train your ears to notice the slightest of sounds. Train yourself to notice every scent in an area, and pick up on when they shift even the faintest bit. Trust your senses, and rely on your instincts. You’ll soon begin to notice things that were never there before.”

“And we’re supposed to do this while walking?” Yeosang frowns.

“The constant sound of our feet crunching the gravel is a good practice for a monotonous sound.” You go on to say. “It is repetitive, so you should be able to drown it out. You won’t always have time to gather your bearings while standing still. Search for the abnormalities within the constant, and you’ll master your senses much quicker.”

“I think I get it,” Yunho nods, almost absentmindedly.

“I know you’ve both already been expanding your sensory reach.” You comment. “It’s time to take it a step further. I have faith in the both of you. Don’t just think,” your eyes flash briefly as your head whips to the side, a bird taking off from a branch in the next second, “feel.”

Two nods are all you receive in response as the males begin to thoroughly concentrate on their surroundings. You can tell how intently they’re focussing, for they stare straight ahead, standing to their full heights as they continue down the path with you.

A small breeze picks up, and you can feel the ground beneath your feet beginning to hum with life.

“Good,” you nod casually. “Once you both feel as if you have a better understanding of our surroundings, let me know. I’ll test you.”

“Test us?” Yeosang’s head tilts curiously.

“I’ll start easy on you,” you grin, a knowing gleam in your eyes. “For example, there’s a squirrel somewhere close by. Find it.”

Both of their heads whip off to the right, a brow squirrel running down the side of a tree in the next second.

“Good.” You nod approvingly. “This is exactly what I mean. Everything is interconnected, and by the time you hone your sense, nothing will escape you.”

They both nod, soft smiles pulling at their features.

“This is also a good way to discern what you need to work on to hide yourselves better.” You continue. “Scent, sound, sight: everything can both work for you, or against you.”

“Now that you mention it, I can smell you a lot more, Yeo.” Yunho’s nose scrunches.

A small laugh escapes you, and you see the aforementioned male’s cheeks dusting red.

“Yeah, well, the sound of your footfalls are like a giant upon the earth.” Yeosang snaps back.

Again, you chuckle, noticing how Yunho’s ears begin to turn red once more.

“See, these are things you both can work on to hide yourselves better.” You spare a glance at both of them. “If you really want to test yourselves, ask Jaemin to track you. He’s the best of our clan.”

You do not fail to miss the way they both stiffen at your words.

“I don’t know,” Yeosang grimaces slightly, shooting a pointed look towards Yunho. “Wouldn’t want to stink him out.”

“If you’re worried if you smell or not, you don’t.” You reply, noticing how he falters slightly in his steps. “You actually have quite a pleasant musk, like fresh juniper and oak.”

Instantly, Yeosang’s spine straightens, puffing his chest out slightly as the corner of his lips tug upwards smugly.

Yunho, on the other hand, begins to pout.

“We’re almost there,” you comment, motioning ahead on the path with your chin.

Glancing forward, the two males can just make out the entranceway of Rose Village. Flowers surround the grand archway, and faintly, they can both begin to smell the pungent aromas drifting through the air.

“Who’s a better tracker, then? You, or Jaemin?” Yunho attempts to change the subject, if only slightly.

Your knowing smile says it all. “Do not forget that I was the one who taught him everything he knows.”

“Then, we should just ask you to track us.” Yeosang replies.

You shake your head. “You’ll never learn that way, and I won’t always be around to train you. My Neos are your best options if you even want to attempt to best me at anything.”

“Which is why you sent Woo and San to Ten and Taeil to start.” Yeosang hums in understanding.

“Exactly.” You nod in confirmation. “You should partner up with them if you want to learn how to better utilize your powers. If you want to hone your strength, ask Jeno to train you. He’s our strongest fighter.”

“Something tells me we’ll have to go through them before we can even get to you.” Yunho spares a look at you out of the corner of his eyes.

You meet his gaze, the corners of your lips twitching upwards.

“We’re here,” you pause just before the archway, observing the village with such a fond look in your eyes as you see people milling about just through the entrance. “Continue to hone your sense, you never know what you might learn.”

Without saying another word, you enter the village.

A smile pulls onto your features as you take in your surroundings. Many different stalls have been set up, lining the paths with different vendors selling their wares. There’s a fruit stand off to the side, a few different herb sellers, and multiple florists all chatting with potential customers.

Walking through the main road, you cannot help the wondrous shine in your eyes as you observe the daily lives of the townsfolk. That feeling of nostalgia that floods your senses almost serves to overwhelm you, your one hand tightening its grip on the strap of your satchel.

Little do you see the fond looks either dragon send your way.

“This way.” You voice lowly, shifting almost wistfully through the throngs of people towards the very back of the street.

Reaching the end of the row, the area opens up into a large square with a beautiful trickling fountain in the centre. Vines creep up the sides of the buildings, more flowers blooming from every angle and filling the space with vibrant colours of pink, purple, red, and orange.

There’s almost a renewed giddiness to your steps as you round a corner, more vendors lining the street. Your steps are precise and steady, heading directly to a specific counter right at the end of the row.

Silently, the two males follow but a step behind.

Two females can be seen conversing behind the stall counter. Both are quite tall in stature with dark skin. One wears her hair in tight braids, the tips resting just below her shoulders. The other has shorter hair, tight curls adorning the strands. Around their stand, three rambunctious children - two girls, one male - can be seen running around, hitting each other with different flower stalks.

Stopping in her tracks, one of the children seems to take notice of you approaching the stand. A large, dramatic gasp escapes her, causing her siblings and mothers to turn their heads in your direction.

“Auntie!” The little girl squeals, immediately running over to you with her arms outstretched.

The two males share a look as you wrap the little girl in your arms, picking her up and hugging her tightly as she giggles loudly.

“My goodness, you’ve gotten so big!” You grin, holding her against your hip as she rests her hands on your shoulders.

“What about me!” The other little girl says, tugging at your shirt lightly as she stands beside you.

“Yeah!” The little boy adds, standing tall with his hands on his hips. “It’s not fair you always pick up Delilah first!”

“Well, I do have two arms, Marcus,” you chuckle, shifting Delilah over slightly so you can pat his head affectionately.

Just as you go to reach for him, he runs away.

“No, wait! I’m too old for you to be picking me up!” He whines, hiding behind the stall counter with his parents.

“I’m not!” The other little girl says, running right into your arms so you can pick her up.

A moment later, and you’ve hoisted her into your free arm, giggles falling from her lips as she places a big kiss onto your cheek.

“It’s good to see you again,” the woman with the braids smiles kindly, an overtly affectionate look shining in her eyes as she stares at the scene before her.

“We’ve all missed you.” The other woman says, standing just a smidge taller than her wife beside her.

“I’ve missed you all, too.” You return their fond looks, nuzzling your forehead affectionately against the girl’s own.

They giggle in response, Delilah leaning into you further.

“Auntie, did you bring us anything?” She inquires innocently, blinking at you all the while.

“You know I always do.” You chuckle fondly, placing both girls back on their feet for the time being. “Jungwoo was very adamant about me giving these to you.”

“Oh, they’re from Uncle Jungwoo?” Marcus’ eyes instantly light up, coming back around the counter to stand before you.

Sliding the strap of the bag off your shoulder, you open the satchel. Reaching inside, you pull out three small wooden figurines. The deer you hand to Delilah, the eagle to Marcus, and the little dragon figurine you hand to the final little girl.

“Wow,” she gasps, nothing but pure awe in her eyes as she turns the figure around and around in her hands.

“Minnie, what do we say to your Auntie?” The woman with the braids smiles knowingly.

Immediately, the girl looks up into your eyes, a bright smile on her lips, “Thank you, Auntie!”

You chuckle, “Don’t thank me, thank your Uncle Jungwoo.”

“Auntie,” Marcus begins lowly, leaning into you as if discussing something secret. His eyes briefly dart past you to the two males still standing silently behind you. “Are you cheating on Uncle Jungwoo?”

A boisterous laugh escapes both you and the two females still standing behind the counter.

“Oh, no, Marcus,” you pat his arm assuringly. “Your Uncle Jungwoo and I are not together.”

“So, then, are these your new boyfriends?” Minnies ask, walking up to Yunho and tugging on the side of his pants. “Are you married to my Auntie now?”

You swear Yunho’s eyes nearly bulge right out of his head as he splutters over his own words.

“No, Minnie,” you chuckle, “We’re not married.”

“Why not?” Minnie turns back to you, blinking almost owlishly.

“Minnie, relationships don’t work like that,” the taller of the two ladies shakes her head endearingly.

“But you and mommy are married!” She scurries over to the both of them.

“That’s because we’ve known each other for a very long time.” The woman answers.

“Uncle Jungwoo and Auntie have known each other for a very long time.” Marcus voices.

“Not as long as Uncle Renjun, or Uncle Taeyong, though.” Delilah adds, matter-of-factly.

“My Neos are like family to me,” you explain softly. “Like my brothers.”

“What about Uncle Kun?” Minnie asks innocently.

“Children, that’s enough.” A sharp look is given to the three of them by the woman with the braids.

“It’s alright, Kamille.” You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You crouch down so you’re eye level with Minnie. “Uncle Kun finally found his special someone, and I’m happy for him. We agreed to just stay friends.”

“His loss,” the taller of the two mumbles.

“Trisha,” a sharp look is sent her way by you.

She shrugs, “Just saying.”

“Auntie! We have something for you!” Delilah exclaims excitedly, scurrying into the house behind the stall with the other two children in tow as they all remember their gifts for you.

You stand back to your full height, a curious quirk to your one brow.

The two women offer you knowing looks in response. Except, once they see what each of the children hold on their way back out of the house, they attempt to stop them. Only, they don’t manage to catch them.

“Mommy said these were your favourites, once.” Minnie extends a few flowers out to you, both Marcus and Delilah standing on either side of her doing the same.

Your breath catches in your throat as you see the children each holding out a few stems of bluebells to you with smiles on their faces.

A soft call of your name from Kamille sounds from behind the children. “We’re so sorry, we told them-“

“Did you grow these yourselves?” You cut her off, not even sparing her a look as your eyes begin to water.

Three proud nods greet your blurry vision, and your first tear falls. Softly, you grab the flowers from their hands.

“Look at you three!” You smile through the pain in your heart which suffocates you from the inside out. “You’ll be giving your mother’s a run for their money pretty soon. These flowers are beautiful!”

Happy giggles reach your ears, the girls twirling eagerly from side to side as Marcus avoids your gaze.

“Okay, children, why don’t you go grab some snacks for all of us at the bakery.” Trisha grabs a few coins and hands then to Marcus. “We have some things to talk about with your Aunt, here.”

“Okay!” Three cheers are heard as they all rush off down the street, disappearing into the crowd.

“I’ll go with them.” Yunho offers, already following after the three children.

Kamille simply raises an eyebrow.

“He heard the word ‘bakery,’ and now that’s all he can think about.” Yeosang sighs.

“I don’t blame him,” you wipe your tears from your cheeks, gazing almost longingly down at the bouquet of bluebells in your hand. “Rose Village bakery is one of the best around for miles. Seeing as he bakes, he probably wants to check it out.”

“Ah, found yourself a baker this time, have you?” Trisha jokes.

“I haven’t found myself anything.” You shake your head, a slight huff escaping you.

Both women finally step out from behind their little stall.

“It’s good to see you again,” Kamille says as she wraps her arms around you, making sure to avoid your back all the while.

“We weren’t lying when we said we’ve missed you,” this time, it’s Trisha’s turn to wrap you in her arms, hugging you tightly as you do the same back.

“I’ve missed you, too.” You pat her back affectionately.

“I thought you said you were going to come visit more often,” Kamille shoots you a playfully accusatory look.

“Yes, well,” you chuckle, motioning to Yeosang with your eyes, “Some things came up.”

“Oh, where are our manners?” Kamille immediately turns to the single dragon by your side. “I’m Kamille, and this is Trisha. We’re the Delaris’. Those three you saw earlier are our kids, Marcus, Delilah, and Minnie.”

Yeosang bows respectfully, introducing himself and his brother in the next moment.

“Yes, we’ve heard whispers about you Halas.” Trisha crosses her arms over her chest, a minor quirk to her brow.

“How did you-“

“The forest speaks in many tongues.” Kamille replies easily, moving behind her stall and rummaging around in a bin.

“You’re dragons?” Yeosang sounds more surprised than he figures he should be at this point.

“Not quite.” Trisha grins knowingly.

“They’re my oldest caster friends.” You explain, placing the flowers onto the counter before you.

Understanding passes across his features.

“Seriously, we cannot apologize enough about the flowers,” Trisha grimaces, her arms falling back to her sides.

“It’s alright,” you smile weakly. “At least they weren’t daisies.”

“But these were meant to replace daisies with-“

“Trisha!” Kamille’s sharp voice cuts her wife off as she pops back up behind the stand.

Both women spare a worried look in your direction, only serving to make Yeosang even more confused than he already is. At the pained expression you wear, nothing but concern pulls at his features, stepping the slightest bit closer to you. All he wants to do is ease your distress in whatever ways he can, his earlier irritation long since forgotten now.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve received bluebells from anyone.” You say, voice barely above a whisper. Gently, one of your fingers traces over a bloom. “They don’t grow on this side of the fjord. Naturally, at least.”

“We haven’t sensed any of them crossing over in quite a long time.” Kamille comments.

“They shouldn’t.” You meet her gaze, your eyes flashing. “Nor will they ever again.”

“What about Bokkie?” Trisha’s brow furrows slightly.

You simply shake your head in response.

Yeosang frowns.

“Anyways,” Kamille clears her throat. “I take it you’re here for your usual order?”

“I can’t come to see my old friends?” You tease.

“Hey!” Trisha protests. “We’re not that old!”

“You’re almost as old as I am.” You chuckle, your eyes crinkling at the sides.

“Give or take about a hundred years.” Kamille mumbles, a playful roll to her eyes.

Yeosang’s eyes widen in shock.

“Oh, you’ve gone and stunned the poor baby dragon.” Trisha tuts, turning to meet Yeosang’s gaze in the next second. “Us witches know quite a few tricks to staying youthful, you know.”

“Of course, it helps to keep your nose out of trouble.” Kamille adds.

“You two, staying out of trouble?” You quirk a brow. “Unlikely.”

The two women share a look.

“Guilty.” Trisha chuckles, shooting a wink in your direction. “Now, come with me and I’ll help you get those herbs you like so much.”

A simple nod is all you offer her in response, following her into the house and chatting idly as you leave Yeosang with Kamille.

“Are you sure the kid is going to be okay with Kami by himself?” Trisha asks from over her shoulder.

“I heard that!” Kamille calls after you both.

You chuckle, “I’m quite certain Yeosang can handle himself.

Little do you see how the aforementioned male straightens slightly, the corner of his lip twitching upwards faintly.

“Alright,” Trisha chuckles, guiding you into the back room of the house where their rarer herbs reside. “Well, as always, you’re welcome to anything and everything you’d like.”

“I literally cannot thank you enough,” you smile, already harvesting some thistle wart from its pot. “Oh, actually, before I forget, I brought something for the two of you, as well.”

Pausing in your movements, you reach into your satchel once more and pull out two leather-bound books, and two small carved crystals.

“I finished compiling that tome you asked me the last time, and I think you’ll enjoy the other one, too. The crystals are a gift from me to you, as a thank you for everything you two have done.” You place each item carefully into her own hands. “They’re also good luck charms.”

Trisha places both books onto a side table before carefully examining the carved crystals. One is in the shape of an obelisk, symbols carved along its side. The other is smooth like a river stone, perfectly oval in shaped. Both are milky white in colour, and her eyes flash with understanding.

“Thank you,” she bows deeply before wrapping you in another hug. “You’ve always done more for this family than we deserve.”

“Nonsense,” you shake your head, holding her at arms length once she pulls away. “You guys are my family, not just My Neos.”

“Then, you know if you ever need anything, all you need to do is ask, right?” She quirks a brow at you.

“Of course.” You nod, quite firmly at her. “Know that the same is true of me with you.”

Trisha returns your smile.

A moment later, and you return to harvesting the plants scattered around the room.

“So, are you going to tell us about you and those Hala dragons of yours?” She inquires, somewhat knowingly.

“There’s nothing major, really.” You shrug, placing some herbs into your satchel. “I consider them my friends, for my part.”

“There hasn’t been a raid from them since they attempted to harm your village.” She observes, and at your mildly surprised look, she clarifies, “Renjun’s been by a few times with Johnny.”

“Has he, now?” Understanding crosses your features. “Well, they’ve certainly calmed themselves since I’ve met them.”

“Any of which your doing?” She leans against the side table, tilting her head in your direction.

“I do not control other’s actions.” Comes your quick reply, but even she can tell you’re now avoiding her gaze.

“Normally Taeyong joins you on a day like today.” She observes. “Yet, two Halas are here instead. Either he knows something we don’t, or he’s currently on his deathbed.”

“If you’re suggesting Taeyong set me up, you’d sadly be mistaken.” You reply, glancing up at her from the plant you’re currently harvesting. “The two of them simply convinced him to let them take his place. Which reminds me… Yongie said he wanted some more of your roses, if you’d be so kind.”

“I’ll let Kamille know,” Trisha hums, watching you carefully.

A moment of silence.

“I’m going to train them.”

Trisha blinks at you in shock. She clears her throat, “Are you sure?”

“I said I would.” Comes your resolute answer.

“You haven’t offered to train anyone since the Wolves-“

“I know.” You cut her off, exhaling a deep sigh as you stand back to your full height. “I can’t keep living my life in the shadow of his betrayal, Trish. I’m tired of letting it control me.”

“This is about more than just training, isn’t it?” Her tone is soft as she takes a step towards you, placing a gentle hand onto the side of your arm in comfort.

“It’s been over fifty years, Trish-“ your voice catches in your throat as she begins rubbing your arm soothingly. Tears begin to gather once more in your eyes, your own hands clinging desperately to the strap of your satchel. “I don’t want to watch my life pass by from the outside anymore. I want to start living again, and maybe-“ you swallow thickly, “maybe even learn to love again.”

She smiles softly at you, giving your arm a light squeeze.

“And honestly, Trisha,” you suck in a sharp breath, “I’m terrified. I want to believe him- I want to believe in him so badly, it hurts, but I don’t know if I can. And then what happened with Kun…” You trail off. “I can’t go through another-“ you choke on a sob, “I can’t-“

“I know, sweetie,” she coos, shushing you all the while as she wraps you in her embrace. “I know.”

“The most terrifying thought, though, is that I am.” You whisper lowly. “I am starting to believe him.”

“The one outside?” Her brow furrows slightly.

“No, his brother.” You shake your head.

“The baker?”

“No, their youngest.” You clarify.

A noise of understanding echoes in her throat.

“Why do you-“

“I think it’s more than just the youngest that’s making you believe.” She observes. “Sure, he may have been the catalyst, but I know you. Even you would have had a difficult time agreeing to let anyone but Taeyong come with you to see us today. Hell, even bringing them to this festival is something you would have denied to anyone whom you didn’t trust.”

You take a moment to consider her words. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you what you should do. Only you can decide that for yourself.” She says, pulling away to stare deeply into your eyes. “What I can tell you is this: you are not the same person you were all those years ago. You know both Kami and I strongly believe in things always happening for a reason, and perhaps what happened with Kun was meant to happen so you could find them. Perhaps letting yourself believe won’t be such a bad thing.”

You nod lightly.

“Besides, I can sense the magic of this youngest’s Drygg Promise all over you.” She tilts her head knowingly. “It’s the strongest, most sincere form of magic I’ve ever seen from anybody. Even from you.”

“He is quite convincing.” You chuckle fondly.

“Convincing, or sincere?” She squeezes your arm once more. “Come on, the kids should be back by now.”

“I’ll be out in a minute, I just have a few more herbs to get.” You tell her, noticing how she begins to head towards the front.

A call of her name from you stops her.

“Thank you.” You meet her gaze, clearing your throat lightly as you compose yourself. “For everything.”

Trisha smiles. “You know we’re always here for you. I think it’s time you let some new people in, as well.”

Without another word, or waiting for a response from you for that matter, she leaves back out through the front door.

Perhaps she’s right. Maybe it is time for you to allow yourself to grow and let go of your past.

Finally, you think you’re ready to move on.

Stepping back out of the house a few minutes later, you see both women conversing with Yeosang. The tips of his ears are dusted a faint red, and even you can see the way he seemingly lights up as soon as he sees you.

“There you are,” Kamille nudges your side gently as you come to stand beside her. “Yeosang was worried you got lost.”

“I was not!” His eyes widen, greatly scandalized by Kamille’s words.

“Right.” Trisha laughs. “And you weren’t just thinking about storming past us to make sure she was still alive.”

The way he begins to splutter says it all.

“It’s okay,” Trisha pats him affectionately on his arm. “We know the signs all too well.”

“What signs?” Yeosang shifts his gaze between them, a confused, almost defensive furrow to his brow.

The two women share a look. “Denial.”

“The kids aren’t back yet?” You cut in, glancing around the area briefly and not seeing them, or a much taller male in sight.

“Not yet,” Kamille shakes her head, a worried pull to her lips downwards.

“Not that we don’t trust your brother,” Trisha adds, sparing a brief look at Yeosang, “but they should have been back by now.”

Your head tilts, and you notice Yeosang’s does, too.

“Mommy!” A cry is heard just through the crowd, and you see both Delilah and Marcus pushing their way through the throngs of people.

Immediately, you intercept the two children, their parents at your side.

“What’s wrong?” A frown is prominent on Kamille’s face as she picks Delilah up.

“Where’s Minnie?” Trisha is quick to grab ahold of Marcus who clings onto her side.

“That new bakery lady won’t leave Yuyu alone.” Delilah pouts.

“She’s worse than when you and mom start making kissey faces at one another.” Marcus’ nose scrunches in distaste.

“Minnie’s trying to save him, but it’s not working.” Delilah adds.

“I thought Rylie was married.” Kamille says, more to herself than anything.

“I’m sure Yunho can handle a few flirtatious comments sent his way.” Yeosang chuckles. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”

“He popular like that, or something?” Trisha quirks a brow, somewhat teasingly.

“Or something.” Yeosang grumbles.

“Didn’t take you to be one to get jealous,” you hum, and you notice how his cheeks begin to dust pink for the nth time today.

“I’m not jealous.” He grumbles, gaze flicking over to you every now and then.

“Mom!” Delilah whines. “This is serious! Yuyu is in big trouble!”

“We’ll go check it out. Don’t worry.” You assure them.

“Hurry!” Marcus begins to tug Trisha down the street. “There’s bad energy coming from him.”

The three of you share a look.

Almost instantly, you and the two witches take off down the row, pushing your way through the crowd.

“What’s going on?” Yeosang manages to just keep pace with you.

“Marcus can sense shifts in energies, it’s his specialty ever since he was small. If he gets a bad feeling, almost always something bad will happen.” You explain quickly. “Your brother may be in danger.”

Rounding a street corner, the crowd thins slightly. You can see the awning of the bakery in sight, and you hurry your pace, the others following behind.

The bell above the shop door jingles as you six enter the shop. The owner, Nina, sends you a warm smile from her chair behind the counter. Once she adjusts her glasses, she’s offering you a friendly wave in recognition. Age, it seems, is catching up with her.

You have just enough time to wave back before your attention is drawn to the side where you see Yunho backed into a corner, the new girl - Rylie - holding him hostage with her arm beside his shoulder. The way she’s leaning into him, and his stiff demeanour, says it all.

“Mommy!” Winnie scoots out from between them, panic clear on her features.

Kamille is quick to embrace the girl, cooing at her to calm her down.

“Rylie.” Trisha’s stern call of her name has the women sighing dramatically before turning her head slightly in acknowledgement.

Still, she does not move from her position.

“What?” Nothing but irritation lines her voice as her gaze flicks over to your little group.

“Tell her to stop bothering Uncle Yuyu!” Winnie crosses her arms, frown prominent on her features.

Your eyebrows raise slightly at the name she calls him, mirth dancing on your features.

“You heard the little lady.” You address the woman before you, noticing how she purposefully trails her gaze over you in disgust.

“If he wanted me to stop, he would have pushed me away by now.” She retorts, rather pointedly.

“Actually, I’ve been asking you to give me space this whole time-“

“Shhh,” she turns quickly, placing a finger over his lips as she leans into him. “You don’t have to lie to save her pride. I know I’m a better match for you than she is.”

You blink, not being able to keep the appalled expression off of your features. Honestly, you’re more amused than anything, but you contain your laugh of disbelief for now.

You share a look with both Kamille and Trisha. You smirk.

If this is how this woman wants to play, then you’ll gladly succumb to her games.

“What makes you think I enjoy the company of men?” You quirk a brow, beginning to slowly step towards this woman. The way your suddenly hooded gaze remains locked on her has her faltering for a moment. “You caught my eye since I first stepped foot in this little bakery, here.”

“What are you doing?” Her brow furrows, and she takes a step back and away from Yunho as you creep closer.

“It seems to me you enjoy assertive people.” You continue to approach, backing her into the corner and away from Yunho. “I’m just emanating you.”

“Don’t come near me.” She pushes herself against the wall.

You stop in your tracks, leaving a good two feet of distance between your body and hers. You blink at her in curiosity, tilting your head all the same.

“If you wanted me to stop, you would push me away.” You throw her words back at her, making sure never to lay a single finger on her the whole while.

“Just leave me alone.” She spits.

“To be clear, you’re asking me to stop?” You inquire, staring straight into her eyes expectantly.

“Yes!” She hisses. “Do you not understand the word ‘no’?”

Your eyebrows raise, but you remain silent. Your expression says it all.

A scowl is pulling at her features in the next moment as she pushes past you, knocking into your shoulder quite harshly. “Fucking bitch.”

The sound of the bell jingling above the door is the only indication you have that she’s left.

“Oh, I suppose it is time for her break.” Nina hums, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose.

“Seriously, Nina,” Kamille sighs. “You should find better employees.”

The old woman either doesn’t hear her, or chooses not to answer as she begins humming a soft tune to herself.

You shake you head, turning to face Yunho in the next second. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” his reply is somewhat breathless as he stares at you, blinking to clear his vision soon after. He clears his throat, seemingly coming back to reality. “Yeah.”

Winnie immediately runs over to Yunho, grabbing his hand in hers.

“Uncle Yuyu, you promised to buy us flowers!” She begins tugging him towards the entrance.

You quirk a brow, “Upgraded to Uncle now, are you?”

He grins, a red creeping onto his ears. “It was all them.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Yeosang pouting.

“Hey kids, why don’t you drag Uncle Yeo along with you, too.” The corner of your lips twitch upwards knowingly.

“Okay!” Delilah immediately rushes over to Yeosang, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the door now, too.

“Have fun!” You wave them off, seeing as Marcus now holds the door open for them all.

The moment the door swings shut, the three of you breathe a sigh of relief.

“Crisis averted.” Kamille sighs, sitting herself down in one of the chairs nearest to her.

“Rylie has been a piece of work since she started here last month.” Trisha sits opposite Kamille, you joining them quickly.

“She new to town?” You inquire, noting how quiet the bakery is for a day like today.

“Yeah, her and her husband moved here about two months ago. She’s stirring up trouble wherever she goes, and we usually have to clean up the mess.” Trisha frowns. “Flirts with every male she sees, then usually her husband steps in to ‘defend what’s his’.”

You grimace, “Sounds like they’re both a piece of work.”

“You’re telling us.” Kamille nods. “We’ve had to step in a number of times before things get too out of hand. He’s already received two major warnings.”

“One more and we kick them out of here for good.” Trisha says. “Perks of being the heads of council.”

“You two run this village flawlessly,” you comment. “Of course you have final say. I’m honestly surprised you still let them live here.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ve become too lenient in our old age.” Kamille hums, the three of you sharing a laugh.

A few minutes later, the three of you are sharing a pastry, talking idly as you wait for the kids and the two males to return. The more you converse with your friends, the more your shoulders relax. Though, with the sound of the bell chiming above the door, and the ominous presence you feel entering the bakery, that happiness soon plummets into unease.

“That’s her.” You hear a harsh whisper behind you. “That’s the bitch that touched me.”

You nearly roll your eyes, but at the way the two women in front of you stiffen, you opt to sigh instead.

“Oi, you!” A loud voice draws your attention to the front of the bakery to see a burly man standing there. His arms are crossed as Rylie practically clings to his side, sneering in your direction. “You think you can just go around laying your grubby paws on my wife?”

“Actually, Sir, I never touched your wife.” You reply calmly, resting an arm over the back of your chair as you turn to face him. “It was your wife who continuously threw herself at one of my own friends, even after he repeatedly asked her kindly to stop.”

“So, you’re a fucking bitch and a liar?” He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Should have expected that from a fat queer such as yourself.”

Your head tilts slowly in understanding. “Do you have more of an issue with me because I’m fat, or because I’m queer?”

“A smartass, too? Damn, I’m going to enjoy knocking your teeth in.” He cracks his knuckles. “No, I have an issue with you. You came onto my wife, and now you’re going to regret it.”

“I have no desire to shatter your already fragile masculinity any further, Sir.” You reply. “I’m sorry you seem to be stuck playing your wife’s desperate, attention seeking games. The two of you should strive to do better.”

“How dare you!” Rylie seethes, but is soon consoled by her husband.

“Shh, Honey, I’ve got this.” He pats her shoulder before rounding on you. His furious expression says it all. “How dare you!”

“Oh, I think we’ve got a pair of parrots on our hands.” Trisha remarks. “Too bad they can’t remember any of the important lessons.”

“Yeah, like ‘final strike and you’re out.’” Kamille hums, shooting the two of them a pointed look.

“Like hell you can kick us out of this town.” The male spits, brow creased as his face begins to turn bright red in anger.

“We can, and we will.” Trisha replies almost instantly, no remorse at all in her tone. “We’ve already warned you sufficiently. Please do not make us mad. You will not like what happens.”

“Are you threatening me?” He straightens, hands balling into fists at his sides.

You stand calmly to your feet, returning the plate to the counter where you see Nina has managed to doze off. Soft snores fall from her lips, and you spare her a small smile before turning to the couple fuming at the doorway.

“Depends,” you hum, leaning back on the counter as your cross your arms over your chest. “Do you feel threatened?”

“By you?” The man scoffs. “Not likely.”

“You should be.” You smile, and you notice them grimace slightly at how unnerving you suddenly look. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, my nieces and nephew are waiting for us to return to the festival.”

Just then, the bell above the door chimes and in walk both Yunho and Yeosang with the children in tow. A white pansy is tucked into Yeosang’s hair, just behind his ear. It seems to have been placed there very carefully so as to display his birthmark, and you just know Minnie probably had something to do with that, seeing as he holds her against his hip. Marcus holds onto Yeosang’s free hand, a yellow daffodil, a pink rose, and a sprig of lilac held in Marcus’ opposite hand. On Yunho’s back rests Delilah, her giggling suddenly cut short as she peeks over his shoulder to observe the tense scene before them.

“Auntie…” Winnie’s worried gaze is suddenly on you, and you notice how Marcus begins to tremble as he looks at the man before him.

“It’s okay, Winnie,” you smile assuringly. “We were just on our way out to meet you when Rylie returned with this fine gentleman here.”

The couple stiffens.

“Bad man.” Marcus begins mumbling, taking a wary step backwards. “You’re a bad man.”

“Don’t worry, Marcus.” You begin to usher both Kamille and Trisha out, you following close behind. “We’re finished here, anyways.”

Marcus immediately clings onto Kamille as she walks passed, Trisha taking Winnie from Yeosang’s hold instantly. You don’t even spare another look at the couple as you exit the bakery, both Yeosang and Yunho observing you carefully.

Only, you don’t manage to get very far outside of the shop.

“Don’t you walk away from me, you bitch.” The man grabs your arm, quite harshly at that.

Two low growls get muffled by the bustling sounds of the festival around you.

“Sir, I recommend you release my arm before you come to regret it.” You state calmly, angling your body away from him as a crowd begins to form around you.

“The only thing I’ll come to regret is not putting your smartass in your place.” He spits, tightening his hold over your arm.

You sigh, shaking your head as you slide you bag off of your opposite arm. “Trish, be a dear and hold my bag.”

Wordlessly, she grabs it from you.

You turn your full attention back to the man in front of you.

“This is your last warning,” you meet his gaze with a dark look of your own and you notice how he falters slightly. “Release me before you lose this hand of yours.”

“Like you could ever harm me.” He guffaws, purposely raising his voice for the now growing crowd.

At the side, both Yunho and Yeosang stand, tense. They can barely keep their eyes from flashing, both males beginning to tremble in rage the longer they observe this scene going on before them.

Faintly, you begin to hear whispers around you, all in defence and worry of you and how often this man seems to pick fights with absolutely anybody.

“I don’t think you’ll enjoy it very much when I knock you flat on your ass.” You comment.

He scoffs, “I’d like to see you try!”

The moment those words are out of his mouth you have him pinned on the ground, a light cloud of dust floating in the air. Your knee digs harshly into the man’s back, his arm twisted unnaturally behind him as you shove his face into the dirt.

Rylie’s hands come up to cover her mouth in shock, a silence settling around the crowd.

“I warned you.” You hum, almost condescendingly at the male beneath you.

A scowl is all you receive in response.

“Normally, I would have broken your hand for touching me, but I think the fact that you’re being kicked out of this village is punishment enough.” You spit quite harshly. “After all, you’ll need all the strength you can get in order to vacate the premises as quickly as possible.”

A moment of silence before a small cheer is erupting from the crowd, murmurs of glee reaching your ears. Many even go so far as to exclaim that this couple’s reign of terror is over.

“You bitch!” Rylie shrieks, running over to attempt to tackle you off of her husband.

Easily, you dodge her, watching as she trips over her husband’s legs and lands in the dirt beside him. Not even a second later, you stand, dusting off your knees all the while.

“Be grateful this is all that you’ve received from me.” You crack your neck, grabbing your bag back from Trisha in one fluid motion. “Now, I don’t want to hear you’ve bothered anyone else ever again, and you better hope I never see your faces around here again. You won’t like what becomes of it, then.”

Slowly, the man pushes himself to his feet, Rylie helping him stand all the while.

“Get back here, cunt!” He bellows, closing the distance between the both of you in a few great bounds and swinging for the back of your head with his fist.

A sickening crunch sounds around the area, followed by a pained filled cry and a high pitched shriek of horror.

Turning reveals Yeosang crushing the man’s fist in his grip, his eyes the darkest you’ve ever seen them before turning their natural gold. A snarl paints his lips as the man desperately attempts to break free from Yeosang’s grip, blood beginning to drip slowly into the dirt at the male’s feet.

“If you ever lay a hand on My Fated again,” Yeosang growls, voice ringing out loud and clear through the deadly silence that now surrounds the area. His eyes flash. “I’ll kill you.”

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takes1 · 6 months ago

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Hi!!! I saw the Osamu x Reader post and as a Suna girlie it breaks my heart just a lil for Suna (very good stuff for Osamu and Reader tho, that was divine) but I was wondering maybe a slight part 2 for this where Suna gets his own happy ending? I say slight part 2 cuz Suna still has his heartbreak from the Osamu story but ends up with a different reader, perhaps? In my head it was Reader's relative who's much more of his type (relative part for slight drama, iykyk) but I'll leave that up to you!! For NSFW I'll also leave that up to you!! If that's not your cup of tea, you can ignore this ask, thanks a lot!!

hi!! thank you!! i def tried to take this in a slightly diff direction, just bc i was a little confused, but i kept the themes the same and the general prompt true to form! i hope this is alright! thanks for the request!!

warnings. sfw, alcohol consumption

info. angsty / hurt/comfort / timeskip!suna / very sad!suna / heartbreak!suna / previous relationship / suna not getting over breakup / misunderstandings / miscommunication / suna checking you out / happy ending / implied needy!suna / __ words

haikyuu collection. more here.

more links. my ao3. masterlist. requests open!

"Old-fashioned. Please," The man beside you was quiet. Raspy, in a young way, but carried an age's worth of reservation in what were so few words.

He was wearing a nice, linen shirt. Orange and yellow danced off of his Harry Winston watch, but it didn't compare to the glint in his eye as he turned to look at your equally classy style.

The name that breezed off of your lips a little too easy.

"Rintarou?"

Other voices from around the rest of the bar fell away. White noise to you- a loud, gray static to him.

His fingers felt ice cold despite not nursing a drink, a decision he regretted not partaking in sooner with the rest of his team, now.

The knot in his throat kept him from responding.

"Wanna start a tap?" The bartender slid his drink towards him. He eyed you when Suna didn't take it right away.

A brief glance between this tense scene was all it took to understand.

He offered his card between two fingers and took the seat next to you without a word.

"This isn't going to work out."

Three years. So many victories, so many trials-- gone. You swore up and down you never felt anything, even after you watched him break down into tears for an hour.

Your passive stare, completely impartial to whether he lived or died, was all the solace he got.

He must've cried for days. He almost didn't show up for graduation.

The twins thought he died.

Suna held an empty stare forward at the glossy counter- fingers circling the mouth of his glass, sometimes twirling it.

Drowning in vat of ice-cold water would be a warmer feeling than this eternal torture.

The memory of you walking out of the gym, holding yourself because you knew what you were doing, and now you had nobody to comfort you for your cruelty.

A shaky sigh fogged the cool glass on his bottom lip before he took a necessary sip.

Something kind, finally.

The heat that crawled down his throat eased your next words enough for him to bare through it.

"What are you doing here?"

Your sad attempt at trying to make conversation set him off.

His nose scrunched with the effort it took to try to pull himself together. Just your voice dragged him so far back into that deep, never ending spiral of insecurity and uncertainty.

His similarly-dressed team taking up space and sound on the other side of the bar was the first thing anyone was bound to notice. After winning a game, they usually went out for drinks- but just like every other time he was dragged along, he found himself not having as much fun as he ought to.

He grew weary of their energy and insistence that he get a girlfriend to cheer him up.

This quiet separation from the pack, his sulky demeanor, and the pain he wore on his brow was evident to even the bartender. He knew you could see it and hated himself for it.

"Celebrating," His voice was so quiet it took you seconds after to completely register it.

Watchful eyes waited for your expression to shift. It made you as uncomfortable as he wanted, but he couldn't keep the fortitude to enjoy it. He opted for his glass in time to watch his ice cube drop, shift in his drink. It looked fuller, now.

He brought the bitter thing up to his lips and handled it astoundingly well.

Your pretty eyelashes looked prettier when you looked away from him. Longer and fuller when you weren't facing him. That flawless makeup, caressed by the soft, warm light of the bar must've taken you hours.

You were different. He tried not to notice.

"How have you been?"

It wasn't an apology. His fingers slipped on the gathered condensation and he hesitated to take another sip so soon.

"Busy," He looked at your glittery shoulder when you faced him again, "You?"

There were a few moments of silence that he didn't notice. His low-lidded study of your little dress was soothing the burn in the back of his throat, a painful mix from needing to cry and the strength of his drink.

Part of him was relieved you hadn't let yourself go. You were a divine gift that any man would be glad to have, and his opinion, should be willing to break himself over.

The dress honored his useless devotion well.

Part of him would never forgive you for not throwing yourself into a pit of despair for your heartless words. His eyes hardened at once, now at the curve of your thighs that stayed crossed under the bar.

"Can you look at me?"

When his eyes shot up to meet yours, it felt like you were staring down a wounded animal.

The full weight of your decision dawned on you and you realized, all at once, that you had been wrong for years.

You hadn't spared him the way you convinced yourself that you had.

Something reminiscent of fear flashed across your face. He left you to think and chugged the rest of his whiskey. His ice clinked in the glass when he set it down and flagged the bartender.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Slipped out, a little too early, as you both watched the glass refill with golden-brown color.

He squinted down and you were grateful it wasn't a look directed straight at you.

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," He snapped as soon as your company left.

With more time spent sitting next you, basking in your presence for the first time in so long, and his inhibition slowly fading, he felt himself start to get belligerent.

"I was-," You sighed, trying to control the frustration in your voice because you knew it wouldn't help, "I was trying to give you more options."

It was quiet for a long minute.

The hateful stare he kept on his own hand told you he was not convinced.

"I knew it would be tough on us, with you travelling for the team."

A tough brow softened, just a little. His thumb slid against the rim of the glass, thoughtful, about a better time. When he had something else to look forward to other than practice, or games.

"I didn't wanna put you through that. I didn't want- to make you choose."

His life was empty beyond the court. He couldn't imagine any scenario that would've played out to be worse than this. His face stung when he spared a sideways glance at your pretty face.

"So you chose for me," He rolled his cloudy eyes.

His words were like acid.

You couldn't swallow the lump in your throat. You turned from him, angry that he wasn't doing well, guilty that it had to do with something you thought was a good decision.

A big breath through your nose.

"And I'm sorry," You bit the inside of your cheek when he froze, "I really can't express how sorry I am."

The apology wasn't something he could rationalize as anything other than genuine, and heartfelt.

Confusion ran through him, made much worse by his buzz-- his eyes burned and he furiously wiped one eye. He had convinced himself you were secretly an emotionless, terrible person for doing that to him. The fact that you could possibly atone for it made him wildly uncomfortable.

His chair scraped when he pushed himself up to stand and face you. He kept one arm on the bar.

"I wanted to make it work!"

His version of loud was by no means actually loud, but it still startled you.

"And- you didn't," He was already back to a soft mutter, but it was wobbly when he kept talking, "I don't know what else I could've done, to be enough for you."

"You were enough," You instantly argued, "I just-,"

Another frustrated, teary sigh, "I didn't think I was."

It must've been muscle memory. Suna didn't realize he was wiping a tear from your face until his hand was already back down by his side.

He hated seeing you cry so much that it trumped his own lingering, maladaptive thoughts. Especially when you looked so good.

Your small, sad smile at his chivalry eased the weight in his chest.

He felt like he could breathe for the first time in years.

"You were everything to me," You admitted.

He had to take his seat at that. Closer, this time.

masterlist.

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ourfag · 4 months ago

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A made-up fic title for you:

✨All That Glitters ✨

ok so my first instinct is to follow the too-good-to-be-true appeal/deception theme—modern au, ed’s a scammer who singles stede out online for his immense disposable income, establishes contact over text/internet, finds it astonishingly fun to build a rapport with him, and starts siphoning money earlier in the game than he ever has before. it’s a personal record. izzy’s chuffed. ed’s kind of meh about it.

unfortunately: this is a gentlebeard fanfiction and ed is falling in love with the mark.

he works independently and he’s good at what he does, so he’s not in any kind of debt; at this point in his life he’s scamming for scamming’s sake. he doesn’t need stede’s money for anything, he’s just kind of accumulating it and not using it. the thought of spending it doesn’t make him feel good. no particular reason.

izzy’s getting on him about extracting some higher figures from this guy already, and ed knows he’s right, he’s stalling. he’s gonna bleed this guy out. it’s what he does. it’s who he is. he doesn’t get to just walk away from it.

….stede, though. now, if stede walked away, well, not much ed could do about that. it happens. it would suck, but ruining stede’s life would suck more.

there’s two directions i can see things going from here and i’d probably decide based on which one lends itself to funnier problems:

1. ed starts accidentally-on-purpose getting sloppy. irreconcilable inconsistencies, weird places he’s asking stede to wire money, slipping in hints that he’s not legit, with increasing blatancy because as far as he can tell, all of these things are flying over stede’s head. they’re also flying over izzy’s head because he’s not good enough with people to notice the drop in quality.

2. they live in the same city, or at least the same general region of the country, so ed Coincidentally happens upon a Chance Meeting with stede in real life. totally randomly and not on purpose and good luck proving otherwise. stede has no idea who ed is but they hit it off immediately (again) and if ed had any doubts that he’s utterly in love with this guy then those have been obliterated by stede’s 100000 watt smile. they grow close. ed expresses some skepticism about jeff, stede’s very good friend jeff, who maybe seems a little sketchy? maybe he’s not who he says he is? but the thing is ed’s really good at what he does. so he’s having a hard time finding holes to poke in jeff’s story. and if he’s too unduly critical towards jeff then he’s just gonna look jealous—

actually now that i think of it option 2 followed by option 1 could work nicely. maybe i wouldnt have to choose

anyway. while all this is going on stede’s had his suspicions that his money was not going where jeff said it was going but he’s been going along with it anyway because jeff is really nice to talk to and because stede thinks it’s important that criminals work to uplift one another (in his spare time stede has been committing larceny.)

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neiptune · 2 years ago

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my LOVE i finally figured out my prompt for your event :) how about:

Maki (jjk) + "you, that’s what happened. you"

the mood, the theme, the setting-- completely up to you. i trust you with my life and my wife and I can't wait to read your interpretation <3 (hope the event is going well so far!! can't wait to read them all)

maki zenin x you, that’s what happened, you

“And that’s when she tried to blow a bubble with her gum and basically shot it out of her mouth”

“Perfectly aimed at my neck”

“I wasn’t aiming” you grumble, to which your friends look at each other and chuckle.

The arm lazily thrown around your shoulders tightens, calloused thumb lightly grazing your neck. It slowly moves up and down, distracting enouch to take your mind off the embarrassing story just recounted from your old classmates.

“I mean” half a smile tugs at Maki’s lips, a delightful but equally menacing crescent you know well enough to brace yourself for whatever is coming “at least she wasn’t caught giving head to her sophomore girlfriend in the disabled bathroom”

Thank fuck you’re done drinking your coffee and can’t choke on it. Nevertheless, your stomach does a flip perfectly synchronized with the surprised snort Aya lets out.

“You win” Ryo gives Maki a thumbs up with an impressed albeit astonished smile. His gaze then flickers to you, a slight raise of the eyebrows that makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. You know what he’s thinking, that you’re currently winning as well. If only.

“So how did you two meet again?” Aya clears her throat and you appreciate the change of subject.

“Mutual friend” Maki lightly shrugs “we were both at his birthday party and he introduced us”

“I got drunk” you add, grateful to finally have something true to share amidst that whole charade.

“She was so beautiful” you turn your head to look at her and she mirrors your startled glance with one filled with fondness and an ounce of mischief “I knew it then. Knew it right away”

Your heart twists almost painfully in your chest, secretly thankful for your friends’ honeyed oohs and awws: they buy you just enough time to tame your pulse.

Perhaps you should’ve went with your original plan of asking Nobara to pretend to be your girlfriend at the stupid reunion. Why you even came up with the dumb idea in the first place, is beyond you. You haven’t seen some of these people in years and the general hope was to make a good impression, one that could magically wash away little lame you from high school, the person you were so sure was carved into the memories of all those present.

Truth is, Maki is your closest friend and the first person you thought would go along with the stupid plan. The only inconvenient being the apocalyptic crush you’ve had on her for the longest, most embarrassing time.

Of course she was ready to tag along and show up to the reunion with an arm around your shoulders and her usual, magnetic charm. She just radiates confidence and you thought you’d feel safe, shielded by her poised aura. Instead you just feel on edge, insides churning way too often at whatever comes out of her mouth, at each gentle touch she gifts you with. She’s playing the role all too well, far too convincing for everyone to see and for your heart to pathetically slam against your ribcage.

You hate how well she knows what she’s doing, the amount of times she’s called you baby, completely oblivious to her disgusting friend harboring not so friendly feelings for her.

For her nice perfume and shiny hair and narrowed gaze that turns soft as soon as she glances in your direction.

You hate the ill-concealed screech you let out as she pulled you into her lap as you were waiting for the bus, you’re embarrassed by how clammy your palm must’ve felt when you were entering the cafe (“hold my hand” “that’s really not necessary, Maki” “they’ll think something’s wrong if you don’t”) and you honestly cannot believe the number of times you have dissociated from the lively chatter taking place around you just to absentmindedly daydream about running your fingers through her strands or pressing a real kiss to lips looking so soft, always so inviting.

When you crack a joke and everyone laughs, your heart grows in size with what feels like pride. It’s surprising, it feels good. Not only witnessing a fit of laughter you could’ve never triggered back in high school but also Maki’s warm breath tickling your cheek as she giggles right next to you, in a way you just can’t bring yourself to perceive as fake.

The group slowly breaks apart because not everyone is from the same part of town and some have trains to catch, dinners to prepare, partners to go back to. Aya is the last one to stay and you’re happy she is, her presence every bit as comforting as you remembered.

“I like seeing you happy” she smiles, eyes briefly darting to a Maki supposedly busy rummaging through her bag “you were never like this back then. It suits you”

When she excuses herself to go to the bathroom, you deflate against your chair with a heavy sigh.

“I agree, you know” gentle fingers skim your arm “it suits you. Much more than the shy, apprehensive attitude you had this morning. What happened to that?” her smile is teasing, she’s probably proud to identify herself as the cause of the sudden change in the way you’re coming across.

On any other day, you wouldn’t have given her the satisfaction because you’re stubborn and proud like that. But right now? It feels fair. It feels right.

“You, that’s what happened. You” a timid shrug emphasizes your words “you’re here, so I feel safe. I feel strong”

And for the first time since you’ve known her, it’s Maki that stares back at you astonished, lips parted in surprise.

“I like the sound of that” she finally cracks that familiar smirk of hers. When she leans closer, you force yourself not to pull back.

“Me too”

Maki cocks her head, one hand rising to graciously grip your chin.

“Good” her breath is warm on your lips “stay in character for a second”

#red event #jjk #maki zenin #maki x reader #maki zenin x reader #MY DEAREST POM #I apologize for the long ass wait #your lil piece is finally here!!!!#thanks for trusting me with your wife #I so hope you're gonna enjoy this <3 #ilyyyy

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queenofcats17 · 3 months ago

Text

The Ink Demonth 22

Today's theme is Heartbeat.

============================================

The Ink Demon liked to listen to Henry's heartbeat.

In the times when they were separated, rare though they were, they liked to find a quiet spot and just... cuddle together. Generally, the Ink Demon was in his tinier form, slotting his head under Henry's chin and pressing himself against Henry's chest while Henry wrapped his arms around the little demon. Listening to Henry's heartbeat was comforting for the Ink Demon. Even if it was necessarily the sound of a normal heartbeat, the rhythm soothed him. And being held was rather nice.

However... doubts lingered in the Ink Demon's heart. A part of him feared that Henry was only so willing to hold him because his form was currently a palatable one. Would Henry still want to hold him if he was in his true form? Would Henry still be tender if the Ink Demon looked like the mistake Joey had always said he was.

"Do you prefer me this way?" He asked one day, unable to keep the question to himself any longer.

"Like what?" Henry asked, continuing to stroke the side of the Ink Demon's head.

"Like this." The Ink Demon gestured to himself. "Do you prefer me when I'm small like this?"

"Do you like being like this?"

Irritation flared in the Ink Demon's chest, and part of him longed to slam Henry against a wall for his insolence. But he didn't. Instead, he stayed where he was.

"No," he replied. "I find this form incredibly uncomfortable."

"Then, no," Henry said. "I don't prefer you this way."

The Ink Demon frowned. "What does my comfort have to do with your preference?"

"Well, I'd prefer you to be comfortable," Henry said with a little laugh.

The Ink Demon's frown deepened as he pulled away from Henry, staring at him with clear confusion. "Why do you care if I'm comfortable?"

Henry gave him an equally confused-looking smile. "Because I care about you?"

"Why do you care about me?" The Ink Demon pressed.

In retrospect, maybe the Ink Demon should have asked these questions sooner. He and Henry had been working together for a bit now, but never once had he considered that Henry genuinely cared about him. He had assumed Henry was working with him solely because they had a common goal.

Henry's expression softened and he reached out and put a hand on the Ink Demon's cheek. "Because we're both victims here, bud," he said. The weariness of his voice betrayed those countless cycles. The countless loops spent dancing on Joey's puppet strings, acting out his revenge story over and over. Neither of them had had any power in that situation. Only now did they have some modicum of power.

"But I tormented you for years," the Ink Demon insisted. "I killed you. I hurt you. I tormented everyone in this place."

"And not everyone will forgive you for that," Henry said, remaining calm. "But the way I see it, you were just fulfilling the role Joey shoved you into. You didn't ask to be a monster."

"So you would..." The Ink Demon paused, unable to look Henry in the eye for his next question. "You would... hold me even if I looked... the way I used to?"

Henry chuckled as he patted the Ink Demon between the horns. "Yes, I would hold you even in your true form."

The Ink Demon grumbled a bit at the head pats. He was still smiling, though. He'd long dreamed of receiving this answer, but he hadn't expected to ever hear it. It felt... so much better than he had ever expected it would. Finally... Finally, someone accepted him. Finally, someone looked at him and wasn't afraid. A part of him felt like crying from sheer relief.

"That answer is... satisfactory," the Ink Demon proclaimed before laying back down against Henry's chest. "...Thank you, Henry," he added quietly. "I... appreciate you."

"I appreciate you too, bud." Henry kissed the top of the Ink Demon's head.

They stayed there for a little bit longer, just enjoying the peace of each other's company. These moments were few and far between. They would enjoy them where they could. After all, they only had each other now.

#bendy and the ink machine #fanfiction #the ink demonth #ink demon henry au #henry stein #the ink demon

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cal-daisies-and-briars · 2 months ago

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Hi Cal!!! How are you I hope you’re having a nice week!

Lol I hope you know you never have to say sorry for not having finished all the asks yet because 1. The amount and speed at which you write is truly impressive and mind blowing and 2. Literally every word you choose to share is a gift whenever it’s published

I absolutely LOVED 🦷 🛏️ and ➰ they were all so so well done and fun to read and just a general delight!

I had fun doing the themed asks last week so I think I’m gonna keep it going. Lol warning the themes are definitely gonna get more and more contrived as time goes on but hey that’s part of the fun right?

First theme is then and now! Stories that connect the very beginning of the show to where everyone’s currently at.

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞 (one sentence and I’m already fascinated by the concept! There are so many ways you could take this one and I can’t wait to see how it goes!)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️ (i literally grin at my screen like an idiot every time I read about how happy and in love they are in this story! And I’m so pumped to meet the next Buddie kid! You already got me to fall in love with Violet and Nico so I can’t wait for the next one!)

- PCA <3

HI PCA!

Thank you!!!!! You are so so kind as always! I'm glad you liked the fics <3

Love this theme!

30 for 🪞 (thank you!!!! I'm excited to share my vision):

---

"Yes, Dove is a great kid. Peculiar sometimes, but sweet and smart. The problem is, with the rising costs of living and raising a family, fewer people are likely to adopt a child with pre-existing health conditions who is already six. But, we’re in Los Angeles. Maybe some wealthy family will take interest.”

Her tone when she says this last part isn’t confident. Crap. That’s not good.

“So someone could ask to adopt her specifically?” Buck asks.

“In theory,” Angie answers. “It’s a bit of a process.”

“Right, yeah. My friends are in the middle of it actually.” Buck explains. “I hope Dove finds a family.”

“Yeah, me too. She deserves one.”

When they end the call, Buck is all the more determined to solve this problem for Dove.

iii.

He starts with Maddie and Chim.

It’s not a hard decision. Maybe it would be harder under different circumstances.

The person he thinks of first when he thinks of the ideal parent is Eddie. But obviously he’s not going to go there with this. Not the time. Like at all. Hen and Karen obviously would have been the perfect choice as far as taking in a foster kid with specific needs. But that’s no longer an option. Maddie and Chim have their foster license, though. And they’re good people! Chim was just as involved in saving Dove! They’ll want to help her.

---

66 for ⚡️ (I am very excited to introduce them!):

---

All this to say, by the time they’re on one of their final trips, and the back of Eddie’s truck bed is loaded with stuff, Buck is tired. He’s sore from lifting, would very much like to get off his feet, and relax with a cool beer. But this is moving. Moving sucks. That’s a universal human experience. So Buck doesn’t complain. It’s only when he’s done securing the truck bed and walks back into the house for what is surely one of the last times, and calls out for Chris, who was gathering the last of his things from his former bedroom, that he begins to allow his fatigue to turn into frustration.

Because Chris does not answer.

Ten seconds pass. Twenty. Christopher doesn’t respond.

“CHRIS!” Buck calls again. He figures Chris just has his headphones on. “Time to go, buddy!”

Again, nothing.

Sighing, Buck tromps down the hallway towards Christopher’s room. The door is shut. Buck knocks on it.

“Chris?” He asks.

“I don’t want to go yet!” Chris shouts from the other side.

Buck, who could probably fall asleep if his head so much as touches a pillow, physically pouts at this. He wants to go back to the new house, where their mattress has been left on the floor of the bedroom while they set everything up, and power down like a house-moving robot that needs to recharge.

“Uh, why not?” Buck asks.

“Because this is my room and I don’t want to leave it!”

Ah. Okay.

Well, that’s interesting. Considering how he’d been excited about a house with a bigger bedroom. And not having to share a bathroom with Eddie and Buck. Literally, two days ago he was going on and on about how excited he was. So what gives?

“Can I come in?”

“No,” Chris says. “I want to be alone right now.”

Well… What the hell is Buck supposed to do with this right now?

He checks the time on his phone and tries not to groan.

“Okay, Chris. I can give you ten minutes and then we need to get going, okay?”

“No! I don’t want to go in ten minutes. I want to stay here.”

Buck takes a deep breath. “Bud, there’s no furniture in there and there’s no food in this house. We’ve got to go home event-”

“THIS IS HOME! I like it here, just the three of us.”

“It’ll just be the three of us at the new house, too. Where your room is bigger, remember that?” Buck tries.

“Yeah, until you have another kid!” Chris replies accusingly.

Fuck.

Buck really wishes Eddie was here for this.

They haven’t actually said to him that they’re having another kid. They were going to wait until there was a more concrete plan. Not the nebulous idea of a kid, someday. Though Buck supposes it’s a bit less nebulous now that they’ve gone as far as choosing a name.

“Alright,” Buck says. “I’m coming in.”

#daisies and briars writes #we won't look back fic #things we're all too young to know fic

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veebs-hates-video-games · 2 months ago

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1000xRESIST is the most interesting piece of media from 2024 I've seen so far in any medium and easily my favorite game from 2024 that I've played (I've played some other great stuff this year too, but most of it didn't come out this year).

I'm not even sure where to start with it. There's so much going on on so many levels. I guess that's as good a place to start as any.

Similar to one of my other favorite games I've played this year in terms of story and writing, Jack Jeanne, so much of what happens in 1000xRESIST can be read in multiple ways simultaneously. It's about the Hong Kong protests and all the good and bad and extremely messy and complicated aspects of family and a pandemic and several other things, and a lot of scenes and dialog can be interpreted as being about more than one of those things or as reinforcing or contrasting or commenting on the themes of the others.

And then similar to one of my other favorites I played this year for writing and story, Vengeful Heart, it (mostly) takes place in a future where things are mostly worse, but where there are still people with hope making the best of their situation and working against oppressive centralized power.

I'm not Chinese or Canadian, but I was the first generation born here (on one side of my family, and the other side didn't get here much earlier). My mom had a tendency to befriend every other immigrant, so one of my friends since before we even started school was a girl who was born here but whose parents were Chinese immigrants (although only one of them was specifically from Hong Kong). And actually just like in the game her mom was the strict one with the more serious job and her dad was more fun and laid back and just a regular working guy. We may not keep in touch as often these days, but it was nice seeing something familiar from my life and my friends' lives transplanted into a story like this, where even in such a different time period and setting and context it's still recognizable the way it affects the characters and story.

I was completely unsurprised to learn that a bunch of the people involved in making the game have an experimental theater background. There were plenty of moments where I was like "oh, these people are doing An Art". Everything feels so deliberate, from the pacing and framing of scenes to the way different story elements reinforce or play off each other to the use of transitions to tie things together.

I could probably keep going for a while about a whole bunch of other things like the music or the characters or looking at them as separate people vs different aspects of the self or or or. But I try to keep these mostly free of any explicit spoilers, and also my attention and focus have not been great the past few days, so my ability to keep writing is probably about at its limit for now.

Still, if anything you've ever seen or heard about it seems at all interesting or like it'd be your kind of thing it's more than worth the $20 and a dozen hours of your time. I can see this one sticking with me for a while and getting a replay after it's had some time to bounce around in my head a bit more. Just going through the prologue again after I finished it feels like the kind of thing that would really reward another playthrough with all the added context and knowing what's going on.

#1000xRESIST #mentioned:#jack jeanne #vengeful heart

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ace-and-the-rpg-horrors · 10 months ago

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my top ten favourite PJSK events so far!! (no particular order)

- A Once-In-A-Lifetime Pandemoniun

in general, i love silly little school trip moments!! Pandemonium was just lovely. Rui and the three friends he made <333 2-B boys you will always be famous to me. the surprised Pikachu face Rui pulled every time they were nice to him and included him in their banter, literally wanted to sob. Airi and Tsukasa having to stop Shizuku and Rui wandering off. Shizuku and Tsukasa childhood memories. and of course- well, look at my icon. not to mention the CARD SET??? absolutely beautiful. adore the yokai theme, Rui and Shizuku's cards nearly offed me. i stared at them for a good five minutes when they were first leaked

- No Seek, No Find

this is one of the few events that made me cry. Saki, you will always be my favourite Tenma <3 her frustration while being stuck in the hospital, her fear of being left behind, the unfairness, her loneliness, her guilt for worrying her family, her desire to be "normal"- it was heartbreaking. the card set hits so hard too, my favourite L/n cards. and Tera Tera is always in my head, Saki's solo >>>>

- My Colour

this event literally made me fall in love with Shizuku, i wasn't particularly interested in her too much before. the pressure put on her but then how she finally let herself act like herself <33 she's so hardworking and sweet, live laugh love, Shizuku Hinomori. the cards are so pretty, Shizuku looks so angelic in hers <3 and her solo of Colour of Drops sounds lovely as always too even if it's not a song i care about too much

- Musical Twilight Parade

LEO/NEED AND WONDERLANDS X SHOWTIME!! MY TWO FAVE UNITS HAD A CROSSOVER <33333 I LOVE THEM. the card set was underwhelming yes (only really like Rin's) but!! W x S as tour guides... the shenanigans... literally has one of my favourite moments of all time of Rui teaching the L/n girlies how to trespass, he's such a good influence, isn't he <33 OH YES AND ICHINENE'S FIRST MEETING!! THEY WERE SO AWKWARD AND SHY AROUND EACH OTHER AND NOW THEY'RE SO QUIETLY HAPPY WHEN THEY BUMP INTO EACH OTHER. THEY MEAN SO MUCH TO ME. also, it's a Shiho event so. winner!!

- Don't Lose Faith

Leo/need. Leo/need Cryptonloids. they're all so sweeeet. i love L/n Rin so much <333 i can't put into words why, but i just really like the event story, them training for their concert in Sekai and all with the support of Miku and Co. the cards were really cool (more lims should have dyed hair...) and so is the song, Voices. another Shiho win!!

- A Sorrowful Farewell at the Curtain Call

it's the only event that's got Asahi Genbu in it. that. that is it. oh yeah and W x S was threatened with divorce or something. BUT ASAHI <3 cards were interesting... i like the symbolism but they don't particularly like. interest me greatly? What Sort of Ending Are You Wishing For isn't one of my fave fave songs either... yeah, it was mainly the story that carried this event for me!!

- Insatiable Pale Colour

ENA. ENA. ENA. INFINITELY GREY MAKES ME CRY. ENA SHINONOME YOU ARE SO IMPORTANT TO ME. HER STRUGGLES HIT SO HARD </333 also,,, Shinonome siblings </3 the cards are prettyyyy. they suit the vibe of the event so well. ONCE AGAIN. INFINITELY GREY. beautiful song, the last chorus makes me so emotional. how Ena sounds like she's screaming in desperation throughout...

- Welcome to the Forest of Wolves

i adore Miyajou 1-A <33333 appreciated the VBS friendship in it too!! but mainly KohaMinoShiho being the trio ever. cards? beautiful. i adore fairy tale stuff SO much. poor Kohane accidentally causing a scene all around school, bless her <333

- Exciting Picnic

FAIRY. FAIRY CARD SET. FAIRY CARDS. FAIRY MIZUKI. LITERALLY MY FAVOURITE COSTUME-LESS PERMAMENT CARD. ahem. anywayssssss. Ena <33333 and Shizuku <3333 and Rui <333 MY TOP THREE CHARACTERS?? IN THE SAME EVENT??? what are the chances of it ever happening again </3 oh yes Mizuena... Ena cares so much for Mizukiiiiii they're sooooooo zvsbjdodoskkqkallapalqllaa ALSO ENA DEFENDING SHIZUKU FROM HER PUSHY WEIRD BITCH FANS???? I LOVE ENA SHINONOME. oh and surely you don't think i forgot that it was SHIZURUI'S FIRST MEETING? <3

- Island Panic

- THIS EVENT STORY FELT LIKE A FEVER DREAM. IT WAS SO CHAOTIC AND SILLY AND SO VERY W X S <333 there's so many golden scenes in it. Rui threatening to "sleep the big sleep" if he's made to eat veg. them forming a human pyramid that was nearly ruined by Tsukasa having the audacity to sneeze. Shosuke Otori character development. the only card i really liked was Emu's and Starry Sky Melody isn't one of my favourite songs but the story makes up for it!!

#ace's random thoughts :)#project sekai #pjsk #prsk #pjsekai #proseka #rui kamishiro #saki tenma #shiho hinomori #shizuku hinomori #ena shinonome #kohane azusawa #wonderlands x showtime #wxs #leo/need #l/n

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halikyon · 2 months ago

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From Dust to Dawn: Chapter 4

Summary: Its the beginning of a new era of Ryune's life. First step? A new place to call home. (Its full of fluff!)

Word Count: 5254

Note: Writing is hard. This took me way too long as I got blocked forever.

Warnings: Nudity, Sexual Themes

Story below the cut:

"This is getting a bit silly, Naago. I can make a pretty good guess as to where we are.” Said Ryune being led by the arm, a black blindfold over her eyes. For the first time in a while she was in her favorite blue outfit with her dark boots and feather clip in her hair. It felt great to be out in the world again, and she relished the feeling of the packed dirt beneath her feet as they walked up the slope that led to the upper levels of Ala Ghanna.

“Because it's not much of a surprise if you can see it!” M'naago replied, her heart racing. Despite Kirui's insistence that Ryune would love it, she couldn't help but be nervous. She still wore her Resistance uniform, not thinking to change until it was a bit too late. They had just come from the medical ring of Labyrinthos, where they had packed up Ryune's things and headed here at M'naago's insistence. They had all they really owned in the packs upon their backs, though Ryune didn't know that. M'naago had told her she was bringing some supplies to explain her own pack as she had yet to suggest living together.

Ryune was fairly certain she knew what was happening. There weren't many reasons to come here these days, and she knew M'naago took her concerns to heart, which meant something was likely afoot regarding her place of residence. Usually she just stayed at a local inn, but she had talked to M'naago more than once about how it might be nice to have a more permanent home to come back to. She imagined that M'naago and maybe a few others had bought her a place here in Ala Ghanna as a gift, though she could have done so on her own. She did appreciate the gesture, nonetheless.

“We're almost there.” M'naago assured her. “One more rise and then it's flat the rest of the way.” The slight quiver in her voice threatened to betray her overwhelming excitement. It had only been a couple of weeks since she had sent Kirui here, but she had been told by Kirui herself that everything was perfect and ready to go.

It had taken them a while to carefully shuffle this far, and Ryune was thankful that the journey was almost over. “Whatever it is, I hope it has a place to sit and rest a while.” She had recovered from her injuries from fighting Zenos, but she still lacked her strength and endurance. Truly she was just glad the pain had mostly been dealt with. “My legs aren't very pleased with me right now.”

“Aye, you’ll have plenty of time to rest.” M'naago answered, “Among other things!”

It didn't take long once they reached the top to reach their destination: the last home at the end of the walkway. Ryune could hear the gentle roar of the nearby waterfall, feel the warm breeze as the sun began to set for the evening, and smell…cerulium?

M'naago untied the blindfold from Ryune's head. “Here we are.” she stated, “Wait…”

“Hm? What's wrong?” Ryune asked, peeing around the wall and spotting the unmistakable work of Ironworks engineers, a ceruleum generator and tank with conduits spearing into the stone wall.

“I did that in the wrong order!” M'naago exclaimed. “I should have taken that off when we were inside. Gah, I had a whole plan!”

“Hey it's alright, it's still a surprise after all.” Ryune assured her, a bit confused by how flustered M'naago had become. “Take a deep breath, it's a happy day after all.”

M'naago took a deep breath almost instinctively at the suggestion. A few phrases passed through her mind about being stressed about today, but in truth she knew Ryune was right. Finally out in the world and at a new place, but with such an important question on her mind she couldn't help herself. Finally, she answered, “Aye, a fair point.” A small stomp punctuated her statement, a holdover from Resistance training and an unconscious tell of a mental reset that Ryune found to be adorable. “Let us begin the tour, then.”

“Please, after you.” Ryune gestured to the door. She was eager to see what was inside after spotting the generator.

M'naago went to turn the know, but it refused to budge. “Oh, right, key…key key key…” She looked around for a moment before remembering what Kirui had told her the night before over linkpearl. “Right, the rug!” M'naago made her way over to a rug that had a few chairs on it and an awning that kept the sun at bay at its highest point. It had never been clear whose it was, but no one ever took it or claimed it, so most assumed it to be for public use. “Right were they should be.” She said as she extracted the pair of keys from their hiding place, palming one of them and presenting the other before making her way back to the door.

“So I see it was a collaborative effort, then.” Ryune stated. “I hope they didn't go too overboard.”

“Aye,” she added quietly, “I hope so, too.” The door opened smoothly once she unlocked it, betraying the fact that it had clearly been replaced, the doorframe most assuredly having been squared up, and that clearly the people who had worked on this had been quite serious in their efforts.

The light of the evening spilled in to reveal a spacious interior by their normal standards, an ornate rug that seemed a bit thicker than usual implying some sort of padding beneath. The rest was still obscured by shadow as their eyes adjusted.

“Hm, now where might those lanterns be…” Ryune wondered as she stepped in, stopping a few fulms in before placing down her backpack.

“No need, the Ironworks have it covered for us.” M'naago declared as she did the same and dropped her own pack before turning to the wall. “Now the switch should be here somewhere…aha!”

A pleasant light filled the space, not too different from the warm color of a lantern, but emitting from a fixture on the ceiling. It was a partial dome with stained glass leaves and flowers decorating its surface, mounted dead center of the square room. They both took note of the furniture and fixtures around the space. In the middle sat the large traditional Ala Mhigan rug, its colors matching perfectly with the smooth rock walls and ceiling. Moving around the room starting to her left, they could see large, tall cabinets against the wall leading to a countertop. An oven had been embedded within the counter halfway across the wall, seeming to also be powered by the generator outside. Above were cabinets hung upon the wall for extra storage. The counter continued into the corner and followed it, leading to a large sink. Following the room around next was a door, almost directly across from the entry door, with a label declaring it to be ‘Storage’. Further along was a table and a pair of chairs taking up the corner of the room. It was conveniently Miqo’te sized rather than the one-size-fits-all type that was needed in public spaces, meaning that, for once, they would be able to relax in the chairs without feeling like children, though they knew Lalafell had it so much worse. Moving along, the next object was another door, this one ajar and leading into a still-dark area. In the last corner was a tall cabinet-looking thing emitting a low buzz. In the same corner was also a pair of chairs against the wall, clearly intended for use whenever they might have guests.

Ryune made her way to the object in the corner. “What is this thing?” She noted the handle, pulling it with a bit of force to get it to open. Cold air fell upon her, causing her to shiver involuntarily. “Wait I know, this is one of those..ah, what is it called?”

“I believe the terminology they were using was ‘auto-cooler’.” M'naago offered. “It had a few other words attached to it that made it sound much more impressive.”

“Ah, yes, I see!” Ryune chuckled as she found an engraving on the door. “This is the ‘Mark XXI Cerulium Auto-Cooler Storage Device’ according to this.”

“Aye, that's the one!” M'naago replied. She was still feeling nervous, but the fact that Ryune seemed to be enjoying herself was helping. “Always did come up with the most interesting names, those two.”

“Biggs and Wedge, I assume.” Ryune guessed, closing the door. “It's their calling card for sure.” She looked around for a moment before reaching down to her boots, beginning the process of getting out of them. “As nice as it is in here I feel a bit bad tracking in dirt.”

M'naago nodded and did the same. “A fair point. I doubt we'll need shoes in here anyway.”

Freshly de-booted, Ryune made an observation about a few grates in the walls near the ceiling. “Do you know what those are for?” She asked, pointing up at the nearest one above the open door.

“Some sort of air flow device meant to keep things cool.” M'naago said, making her way to the storage door. “It starts back here I think.” She opened the door, sliding it into a pocket in the wall, and flipped on another switch, revealing yalms worth of shelving and a device at the other end with receptacles for crystals already filled with ones aspected to ice. She found yet another switch on it and flipped it as well, causing a fan visible on the outside to draw in air and push it seemingly into the wall.

“Oh, clever!” Ryune exclaimed, her hand now just a few inches away from the grate. “I take it that was you?”

“There's a switch in here for it. Some sort of device that uses ice crystals and a fan to send the cooled air through.” M'naago explained, leaving it on for now and coming back out. “Clever indeed.”

“They delight in this sort of thing.” Ryune said, “And I do appreciate that it's not obvious. They could have installed metal ducts and things but they kept it all nicely hidden.” She put her hand down from the grate. The open door to the next room beckoned her, and she couldn't help but want to explore beyond. “Let's keep going.”

Ryune led the way, feeling along the wall for a moment before finding the switch. This time both a light and the overhead fan it was attached to came on, revealing the bedroom. To the left of them was a large chair in the corner. It looked very soft and was upholstered in some velvety-looking material. Beside it was a small chest that framed another door along with a wardrobe on the other side. A long chest of drawers lay along the wall opposite where they came in, and to their right, taking up most of the space, was a slightly raised platform with a large mattress covered with blankets and pillows. A lone window sat in the wall above the bed, blackout curtains drawn to preserve the darkness until they got there. Cool air was already circulating through as they stepped forward onto another large, ornate, woven rug.

“This…there's so much storage. I can't Even fill half of this!” Ryune said, smiling. She turned and ran her hand across the chair, which looked large enough for them to fit snugly in. “And this is way too soft. Someone really spent a lot of effort on this stuff.”

“Yes, someone certainly did.” M’naago marveled. Even to her lay eye the furniture exhibited exquisite craftsmanship. “Someone who cares a great deal…” She trailed off as she took it all in.

Not stopping to marvel at it long, as she felt she would have plenty of time to later, Ryune opened the door into the next room and found the light switch much more easily this time. “Ah! Naago, come see!” She beckoned excitedly.

M'naago made her way over and stopped in the doorway. Yet again, it would seem Kirui and the Ironworks had outdone themselves. To the left was a large tub carved into the rock with a shiny smooth finish that looked like it must have taken ages to do. It even had a shower head poking from the wall and enough soace, and depth, for a bench to have been carved into one side. Next was a vanity with a sink and mirror with space for them to work beside one another. Then was what seemed to be a modern Garlean style toilet, likely courtesy of Cid himself considering the origin. Lastly was an open doorframe that led through to a spacious closet and a hatch in the back labeled ‘Machinery’. They both understood that messing around in there was likely a good way to break something.

Ryune noticed all the items already layed out for her. Folded towels, soaps, hand towels, fuzzy floor rugs, all the things she didn't really have herself. Then her eyes noticed the folded square of parchment next to the sink. While M'naago was exploring the closet still, she opened it:

Dear Ryune and M'naago,

Welcome home! I'd have preferred to have been here myself, but I figured it might be nice to explore for yourself and settle I'm before you get any visitors. I made all the furniture myself, so they come with my lifetime guarantee! We did leave some snacks in the cooling thingy if you get hungry. Also, yes, I did have the engineers go and install the utilities in the homes of those who wanted it, so don't you go off feeling guilty about having this. You have earned a place to live comfortably for once. I'll come around tomorrow and see how things are going, so don't worry if the technical bits are overwhelming, I'll take the time to explain if needed. See you then!

Love,

Kirui

P.S: Ask M'naago about what's on her mind, she’s probably nervous.

Ryune folded it back before M'naago could see. Of course Kirui had been involved, there were few who would take such care like this. Considering the timeframe of when she had visited her in Labyrinthos to now, she must have been exceedingly busy. Ryune decided she would have to do something very nice for her when she got the chance.

Ryune had picked up on M'naago's nervousness earlier, and now with Kirui's warning as well she couldn't help but wonder what they had ended up speaking about that night she had needed to rest while they were talking together. She supposed she would find out soon. Before M'naago could come around the corner and see, Ryune tucked the letter into the V of her shirt.

“I haven't the slightest idea what all those pipes and wires do, but from what I can tell we have hot water whenever we like.” M'naago explained, dusting herself off as she had needed to crawl to take a good look at the Machinery space.

A hot bath…and Naago's here…mmm…no, not yet. Ryune tried to get hold of her thoughts before she got too many ideas. First she needed to figure out what it was M'naago was so nervous about. “Naago?”

“Aye, what is it, love?” M'naago responded almost automatically.

“I'm not sure what's going on, but you've been on-edge. You can tell me anything, you know.” Ryune offered.

M'naago looked away, a surefire sign that she was very much unsure. “I…yes, well…” she took a deep breath to steady herself. Ryune approached so they were face to face, placing her left hand in M'naago’s waist and her right finding a place on her forearm. “I've been thinking about this for a while, and I even talked to Kirui about it, well, she talked to me about it before I even brought it up, but anyway, as I was saying, it's been something I've really been considering-”

“Naago.” Ryune interjected firmly but gently.

M'naago closed her eyes, taking another deep breath. “I want to live with you.” A moment of silence passed between then as M'naago hesitantly opened her eyes again.

“That's what you were so worried about? Of course you can! I was already going to ask you to stay.” Ryune pulled her into an embrace, feeling her relax in her arms. “How could I ever say no?”

“I…ah-” M'naago struggled to respond.

“You got into your own head about it, didn't you.” Ryune said, leaning back a little to look her in the eye while keeping her arms around her.

“Aye,” M'naago admitted, “I really did.”

“Well, then I hope you don't mind if I put myself there instead.” Ryune quipped before leaning in and kissing her. It felt more electric than usual, like something had connected between them even more now. Perhaps now was the time after all. She kissed her again and again, M'naago kissing her back, clearly enjoying herself without the added stress.

“I don't mind at all.” M'naago said as their lips parted, “Though I might like to get cleaned up a bit first.”

“I like that idea.” Ryune said softly. “I hope you don't mind helping me out of this.”

As M'naago pulled Ryune's shirt off, the note fell to the floor. She scooped it up, unfolding it and skimming through while Ryune undid her hair. “Ah, Kirui, she really was right.”

“She always is.” Ryune responded, shaking her head as her hair fell loose. “Your turn!” Her hands made quick work of the fasteners holding M'naago’s top on, the belts and pouches falling to the floor. Ryune pulled her partner's shirt off for her the rest of the way as well.

“It might be good to turn the water on for the tub, love.” M'naago said, smiling, “Before we get too carried away, that is.” She had instinctively motioned to cover herself up, but stopped herself, letting Ryune see her as she was.

“Yes, yes, always a stickler for details!” Ryune joked, turning to work the knob. It was conveniently simple to use, and Ryune had no trouble getting it working. Hot water poured into the tub as Ryune turned back to M'naago.

In the time she had looked away M'naago had completely undressed, her hair let down and hanging down to her shoulders. Ryune admired her curves, her muscles, all of her all at once. Ryune noticed she seemed fuller than before, her thighs and belly much softer, clearly the result of less activity and more good food. It was pleasant to look at, inviting. “Eager as I am, I see.” Ryune was beaming with excitement.

“I'll admit, I'm nervous about this.” she said as Ryune finished undressing. “I've never done this sort of thing before.” Saying it freely seemed to alleviate half the nerves already, surprisingly enough. She would need to make sure to be upfront more often.

“Don't you worry, Naago, I'll take good care of you.” Ryune stepped into the tub and turned around, offering her hand. “No need to rush. We can take all the time we need.”

M'naago took her hand and joined her, letting her pull her down into the rising water. The heat was wonderful, but this feeling, this new wave of comfort that washed over her, had nothing to do with the temperature. As Ryune turned the water off, M'naago moved in close on the small bench ledge they had sat upon. Truly she didn't know what to do with herself, but she wanted to be near.

Ryune turned to her with soap in hand. “I'm going to make sure every part of you is spotless.” She said with a suave charm to her voice.

M'naago smiled back at her, letting herself relax into what would come next, “I'm all yours.”

—

They rested in each other's arms among the blankets in bed, neither one thinking to redress after it all. Ryune was still mostly on top of M'naago, her face nuzzled into her neck, her hair a mess as it splayed out over her back. M'naago knew hers was likely just as chaotic, but such was the nature of things.

Ryune stirred, talking into her neck, the heat of her breath causing a pleasant tingling sensation. “Need any more?”

M'naago was a little shocked, “More? Love, I don't think I can walk right now.”

“Mmmh, that wasn't a no.” Ryune said slyly, her hands already in the move.

“Hold on, let's just rest a while, alright?” M'naago said, stopping her. “I'm exhausted, and I know you must be too.”

“Oh? Pretty confident for you first time I see.” Ryune joked, kissing her neck.

“T-thats not what I mean!” M'naago said.

Ryune chuckled softly, a sound M'naago didn't think she would ever tire of, “I know, and you're right. I didn't want to leave you wanting is all.”

“As if you could. In truth, I've never felt so…content.” M'naago admitted.

“Honesty, I feel the same. This was new, in a different way, for me.” Ryune spoke slowly, attempting to find the right words, “I've likely had many tens of experiences with all kinds of people, but none like this, none that made me feel this way.”

“What way is that?” M'naago wrapped her arm around Ryune as she asked.

“Connected. Vulnerable, perhaps, but in a good way.” Ryune mused. “I like it a lot.”

M'naago understood. It was as if all the masks and walls were completely gone. She realized how much Ryune trusted her to do that, and just how much she trusted Ryune in return. Her heart filled up at the thought. “Ryune, I've never felt this way about anyone before. I want you.” The words seem to come forth on their own. “I want this.”

“Me, too.” Ryune felt like she was melting into M'naago as she lay there. “I feel more at home in your arms than I've ever felt in my life.”

Tears began to well in M'naago's eyes. “That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard.” She squeezed Ryune to her chest, pulling her all the way on top of her in the process. “I'm so happy.”

Ryune found herself unable to move between the exhaustion of what they had done finally setting in and her weakened body reaching its limit. It was alright, though, she didn't feel the need to move a single ilm. “I love you, Naago. More than I ever thought possible.” She said, fully relaxing herself, knowing M'naago would be there to support her.

“I love you, too, Ryune, in ways I didn't know one could.” She said as she pulled one of the blankets over them, sensing that Ryune was fully out of energy and in need of rest. “And I look forward to doing so every day.”

Ryune hummed a note of contentment. “Before I pass out, I want you to know, you did wonderfully.”

M'naago felt warmth in her cheeks. “I-I just did what felt natural, is all.” She didn't know if Ryune heard her or not, though, as clearly she had fallen asleep upon her, her breathing even and deep. It was here she found herself appreciating the cool air circulating around them, as the warmth that enveloped her wouldn't turn hot. She could enjoy this moment, stroking Ryune’s hair as she lay so peacefully. She pondered how she could have gotten so lucky, sent some thanks to Menphina, and wondered about what it might be like to have Ryune back in top form. She figured she might need to take up endurance training if tonight was any indication as she eventually joined her love in restful sleep.

—

The sun shown fairly high in the sky, just a bell before noon if Kirui's reckoning was correct as she strode up the path towards the culmination of her recent efforts. She hoped they were still in and hadn't gone off on some errand or another, though she could always give Ryune's linkpearl a ring if that was the case. She could hear the light hum of the ceruleum generator as she approached, though the sound of the nearby waterfall competed with it for prominence.

Today she wore her favorite shirt, the cute frilly one with earth tones over a small cream colored undershirt and dark shorts that were supplemented by her old comfortable long leather boots to cover her legs. It was a pretty warm day and the moisture in the air typical of the region didn't make it any cooler, so she wouldn't even try to wear anything heavier without good reason. Being used to the drier heat of Ul'dah she had found the cooling system in the house to be invaluable to her productivity. The cooler climate and breeze it provided reminded her of the Azim Steppe.

Now at the door she realized the lock wasn't engaged, the keyhole resting horizontally. Doubt crept into her mind about whether or not she had remembered to lock it after she had dropped off all the little amenities and her note. Were they here, had they forgotten? They couldn't possibly be asleep, perhaps they were delayed? She wondered as she reached for the knob. What if someone had gotten in? She would have to be cautious, just in case. She wasn't a fighter like Ryune, but she could do some damage with a hammer.

She pulled out her ball peen hammer and ever so quietly opened the door, full glad it had been replaced and properly oiled in the renovation process. Inside it was completely dark. Slowly she closed the door behind her, even being careful to not let the latch click as the door came to a rest in its frame. For a few moments she waited, letting her eyes adjust, before moving in.

Hammer firmly in hand, she crept forward, ready for anything. She could tell the door to the bedroom was open, so clearly someone had to have been here, as she always closed the door behind her. She also thought she always locked the door, too, so perhaps she was jumping at shadows. Her train of thought was halted, however, as she heard what had to be the sound of breathing in the other room. Whoever it was, she would need to proceed carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was terrify some kid who just wanted shelter for the night. Whoever it was knew how to work the air cooler, though, as it had clearly been in use overnight.

Ever so slowly Kirui poked her head around the corner, first surveying the left side just in case, then the right where the breathing was loudest. There, barely illuminated by sunlight bleeding through the gaps around the edges of the curtain, were a pair of very familiar Miqo’te, wrapped up with one another in a blanket, clearly not dressed and very much oblivious to the world. She held in her sigh of relief, lowering the hammer she hadn't even realized she had raised.

In truth this wasn't the first time she had walked in on Ryune, or at least the aftermath of a sex-filled night. This was a pleasant sight, at least, she mused as she looked at their faces in the dim light. She didn't have much reference for M’naago, but she looked rather content with herself. Ryune, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten her face stuck in a smile overnight, as, buried in M'naago's neck and hair as she was, Kirui could see the upturned corner of Ryune's lips peaking out. If anything, they looked adorable. Part of her wondered what it might feel like to be between them, all warm and safe, but those were thought for another time.

Just as quietly as she had come, Kirui retraced her steps back to the entry door, opening it and slipper herself back outside before they were any the wiser. Putting her hammer back in its tool loop, she finally let out a big sigh, unable to hold in a giggle as the tension left her. For a moment she Contemplated knocking on the door, but she decided to let them have a few more moments of rest first. Spotting the same old chairs under the awning that had been there since what seemed like the previous era, she went to take a seat as she and other had many times during the renovation.

It had to have been fine craftsmanship to last out in the elements as long as this furniture had, but all material things give out with enough time, and the chair Kirui sat in was no different. The moment her weight rested fully in it, the snap of the rear legs breaking shocked her out of her thoughts. In a desperate attempt to stop her fall, a flailing leg caught the nearby supporting pole for the awning above, sending the entire structure down to the ground, and on top of her. The calamitous crash caused the townsfolk below to look up at the commotion, some pointing up at where the awning had once been.

Slightly dazed and disoriented, she clawed at the fabric, popping her head out from the edge closest to the door she had so carefully just closed. She laid her head back, her view now upside down, looking at that same door which now flew open, a fully bare Ryune ready in a combat stance revealed in its place, the sleep very much not yet removed from her eyes. Behind her was M’naago, clinging to the blanket she had hastily wrapped around her with one hand, a metal pan ready in the other. They both immediately lowered their guards as they spotted her in the mess of her own creation.

Kirui wracked her brain for something clever to say, anything at all, but all that came out was a meek, “Hey.”

“Kirui!” Ryune exclaimed as she rushed over, apparently immune to embarrassment, especially when someone she cared about was down on the ground and possibly injured. “Are you alright? What happened?” She asked as she removed the remains of the awning from her, quickly checking her over visually.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I just…fell.” She said sheepishly. Kirui was unphased by Ryune’s lack of clothes; she had seen her like this too many times before to be even a little surprised. She took Ryune’s proffered hand to help her up, trying not to look down at the people who most certainly were still looking. “Thanks.”

“Ryune.” M’naago spoke from the door, her voice like one of a concerned parent. “Clothes!” She waved her arm in front of her, accentuating her point.

“It's fine, they can’t see anything from down there anyway.” Ryune said, instead giving Kirui a hug before leading her by the hand. Before they got to the door, though, Ryune cupped her free hand to her mouth and called back over her shoulder. “Don’t worry! My friend fell! It’s fine!” Somehow this didn’t help Kirui’s embarrassment.

Kirui just sighed, resigned to the consequences of her actions. So much effort to not wake them up tossed away because she didn’t look before she sat. She hoped no one would be too upset. She would just have to offer to replace the broken furniture if they were. While she had no intention of hiding her earlier intrusion and extraction from them, the tale would certainly have an extra layer of irony after such a rude awakening.

#from dust to dawn #ffxiv #ryune avereth #m'naago

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66sharkteeth · 1 year ago

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Hey there, 66! Hope you're doing great. I have been going through your account for the past few hours (this reminds me of that one time I stayed up till 2 am as I appreciated all the artworks on your Instagram) so I know you've heard this several times, but I wanted to say it myself too: your work is wonderful. Believe me, I absolutely love it!

I found City of Blank years ago, during its first season. I read it all, and was quite impressed with the concept, intrigued by the plot, and in love with the characters. But before the next season started, I dropped out of reading Webtoons completely, as far as I remember. Long story short, I revisited Webtoon recently, read a few episodes of City of Blank, and was hooked. Yep. I binge-read the entire rest of the episodes in... three to five days?

So I want to commend you on your amazing concept, beautiful and eye-catching art, plot that keeps me reading late into the night (and at the dining table, between my studies, every single chance I get), the characters (really, they're very well-written — please don't doubt that — and unique, with different stories and personalities, I just love them), and the themes too (incorporated nicely, and it does make me wonder what it means to be a human). The way you write grey characters is one of the best things in your story, I feel.

(I feel like I should give you specific examples of what I like, but I have a tendency of talking too much, as you can see, so this will get way too long, I think... and sorry about the already huge chunks of text. but I hope this make you feel happy somehow)

Alright, now onto my actual questions. They're actually not related to the webcomic itself, since I really can't think of anything interesting... But your story is really good, so here are some queries I have about writing in general.

Do you have any tips for thinking of ideas? About concepts, plot, whatever; how to really get your brain in that mode, you know.

How do you create such vibrant characters? My characters are so similar... there are at least three pairs of nearly-identical characters. And how do you make them flawed yet still so likable?

They are pretty general questions, my apologies. It's just that, you know, since I'm getting to interact with the creator of one of my current favourite stories, why not learn something from them? You can just answer with your personal processes or whatever, I just wished to know how you do it.

I'm really looking forward to the next episode (but take your time, I'm okay with waiting). Pretty sad that this is the last season though. I'll miss it. Could you maybe tell me the estimated date of return and how many more episodes we'll have? Just a rough idea will do too.

That's all. (At this point it'll come as a relief to you 😂) Have a wonderful week ahead, lots of love, and know that there are lots of people who genuinely enjoy your work, you adorable shark! ❤️

(also, don't know why I'm telling you, but this is my first ever interaction on Tumblr with literally anyone) (cool site, I like the easy formatting)

(If you've read this entire thing, thank you. Did I bother you too much? I hope not.)

Hey there! Gonna do my best to answer this since it's been in my inbox for a while, but apologies if it's not the most coherent as my head's still in a bit of a fog from a cold.

First off, thank you for the kind words. I remember they made my day when I first got this ask, but they made it again as I'm waking up w/ a throbbing head ache and coughing my lungs out from the NYCC 2023 Con Crud™.

Anyway, gonna answer your questions the best I can, especially because I'm not entirely sure what the best way to answer these kinds of questions are-

Do you have any tips for thinking of ideas? About concepts, plot, whatever; how to really get your brain in that mode, you know.

I think one thing I like to shape a lot of my concepts around is making something unordinary ordinary. I've talked about it before, but one of the inspirations behind blanks is shadow people, like the ghosts. They're so horrifying and creepy to me, and I thought it would be neat if I made a world where the most creepy and scary thing to me was just...super ordinary and mundane. Like a world where you go into your living room and you're like "Man, that shadow person is still standing in front of my tv. How obnoxious."

A lot of my upcoming ideas kind of focus around this concept too. What if we lived in a world where demons were just every day citizens that went to work and school with us? What if we lived in a world where nobody feared death and was excited for it? What if we lived in a world where half the population was in prison? I can't say every single story idea I have falls into this, but I'd say a lot of them do and I find it's often a kick off point for a lot of my ideas.

How do you create such vibrant characters? My characters are so similar... there are at least three pairs of nearly-identical characters. And how do you make them flawed yet still so likable?

Do I make them likable? Sometimes I can't tell when I look at characters like Lyss haha. Because I think she's a victim of how I write characters, which is just... I dunno, write them like they're real people. Everybody is mad at the decisions Lyss made but... I'm sorry. I'll forever die on the hill that everyone are hypocrites and 90% of people would have done the same thing in her shoes. Only a flawless, benevolent, and frankly kind of stupid, person would have just...let Rex go in those circumstances, evil other half be damned. He was still a danger who proved he couldn't control himself, and the same way you'd probably report your best friend who was driving raving drunk after he just smashed into someone, she reported a dangerous person. Even if people hate her for it, I wrote what any person would have done in that situation. And that's how I try to write all my characters, for better or for worse. A lot of Rex's stupid decisions are dictated by his anxiety and depression, and I know from firsthand experience how being in that state of mind can influence your decisions and overall outlook on life and the people who love you, despite what you may think. I guess my advice is just to give them human flaws. A lot of people don't like Nia because she's manipulative, but I write her as a character who 100% practices what she preaches. Yeah, she "gas lit" Rex into joining Blan Corp, but she also 1000% believed it was the best thing for him.

Desmond probably comes off as the more "flawless" characters, but his own self-loathing and... catholic blank guilt is a big part of what pushed Rex away. In the time when Rex was questioning and hating himself for being a blank, why would he ever go the one person who hates himself for being a blank more than him? When he could go to the person (Nia) who celebrates him being a blank, and reminds him he can be loved for being one.

Anyway, that's enough rambling for now. Hopefully that gives you some to chew on.

#city of blank #rex #desmond #lyss #nia

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mint-yooxgi · 2 years ago

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{27} - Hotel California - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader - Final

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Based off of This ask and Hotel California by Eagles

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader

Words: 14,770

Warnings: The later half still needs to be edited, sorry! Mentions of past mental Illness: Anxiety, Depression, PTSD. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is!! The final part to book one!! Ahhhhhh!!! I can’t believe how far I've come!! Never did I expect such a simple one shot to turn into this, but here we are!! I really hope you all like this final chapter, I think it sort of rounds things out nicely and ends on a, quite literal, high note. Also, the two songs I highly recommend listening to during this part appear in the latter half of the fic. They are named when they come up, so I don’t want to spoil them here. I do highly recommend listening to at least the second one, as it is quite significant to the story and the characters. Anyways, enough of my ramblings lol, I hope you’ll all look forward to what book two has in store! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Main Story - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Ten - Part Eleven - Part Twelve - Part Thirteen - Part Fourteen - Part Fifteen - Part Sixteen - Part Seventeen - Part Eighteen - Part Nineteen - Part Twenty - Part Twenty-One - Part Twenty-Two - Twenty-Three - Twenty-Four - Twenty-Five - Twenty-Six - Mini Masterlist

A yawn escapes your lips as you slowly trudge your way down the hallway the very next day. You can hear the sounds of your slippers sliding against the floor with each step you take, bringing your hands up to rub the sleep from your eyes. Luckily, you managed to sleep much better last night. An ease settling over your mind enough so that you didn’t need to ask any one of them to influence your dreams. You also opted to sleep alone for the evening, stretching out on your bed as you relaxed into your covers..

Looks like that conversation yesterday really did help.

Walking into the kitchen, you freeze right in your tracks.

You blink. Once. Twice. Three times, before a lazy grin is tugging onto your features as you see three males positioned around the counter. All three sporting new hairstyles.

“Well, good morning to me,” you hum, taking in their appearances as they turn to look at you.

Both Seonghwa and San have returned to heads full of black hair. Where San’s is slightly longer in the back, the very ends a silvery blond underneath, Seonghwa has opted to give himself more of an undercut. The best part about the eldest’s cut is that when you get closer, you see a wave like design etched into the sides of his head, seeing as it’s pushed back for the moment. A fact which has you subconsciously stepping into his side to trace the design with your finger as you smile sleepily.

Even Jongho’s new head of fiery red hair suits him quite well, and you cannot help but to nod to yourself in approval of their choices.

“We take it you like the change?” Seonghwa chuckles, a shiver caressing his spine as he feels the tip of your finger ghosting along the side of his head.

“Oh, I more than like it,” you breathe, almost as if caught in a trance as he turns his wide eyed gaze towards you. “I love it.”

Three low rumbles of contentment reach your ears, smiles pulling onto all of their faces.

“Good,” a voice draws your attention to the open entranceway of the kitchen. “We’re glad.”

Nothing could have prepared you for the change in Yeosang’s appearance though. What once were long, bleach blond locks, now sit short, black strands that fall just above his eyes.

“Oh, wow,” you cannot help the gasp that escapes you, forgetting all about Seonghwa for a moment to meet Yeosang halfway in order to brush some of his newly cut hair out of his eyes.

You feel as if you’re caught in a daze, especially when both Yunho and Mingi walk in sporting newly dyed chestnut locks. Mingi’s hair is styled up and out of his face, while Yunho’s rests parted over his forehead.

Your lips part in awe, a small breath escaping you as you take them all in. Though, the final straw for you is when both Wooyoung and Hongjoong both appear before your very eyes.

Wooyoung still sports his skunk dye, the blond simply having been re-bleached for the moment. Hongjoong, on the other hand, sports newly blond locks, cropped short once again.

You place a hand over your heart, feeling it skip a beat beneath your fingers as you attempt to balance yourself on the counter.

“Warn me next time, fucking hell,” you purposely stare at the floor with wide eyes as you lean heavily onto the one arm you have supporting yourself on the counter. “Can’t wait to tell my mom I have eight handsome as fuck men trying to kill me all at once by simultaneously changing their hairstyles on me.”

Eight chuckles sound around the room, the hint of a pleased growl on each of their lips as they look towards you. Seonghwa even goes so far as to place his hand over your own still resting on the counter, offering you a touch of support as you attempt to wrap your head around their new hairstyles for the moment.

“We’re just glad you’re enjoying yourself, Dearest,” Yeosang steps in beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist.

“We thought we should clean ourselves up a bit before meeting your parents,” San admits, flicking his bangs out of his eyes as he smiles at you.

“Though, we’re still not entirely done getting ready,” Yunho adds, a gentle smile on his lips as he walks over to your opposite side to place a kiss onto the side of your head.

“You guys already look incredible, I fail to see what else you’d have to do,” you take your time trailing your gaze around the room, glancing over each of them in time.

Another round of pleased growls reach your ears.

“Thank you, Darling,” Jongho grins, a subtle blush creeping up his neck as he absolutely revels in your praise.

“We just want to make sure we look our very best for when we meet your parents,” Hongjoong explains, a loving smile pulling at his features as he meets your gaze.

“We also enjoy looking our best for you,” Wooyoung grins, eyes crinkling at the sides with the honesty of his words.

A small heat rises to your cheeks as you avert your gaze bashfully.

In the next moment, you’re clearing your throat lightly. “So, do you all do your own hair, then?”

“We usually style it ourselves, but Hongjoong is usually the one that cuts and dyes it for us,” Mingi tells you, a knowing gleam shining within his eyes as he looks towards their Captain.

At the way your awe filled gaze turns towards Hongjoong, he cannot help but to smile shyly.

“We usually just tell him what we want, and then he works his magic,” Seonghwa grins, noticing how the younger male suddenly becomes bashful beneath your stare.

“That’s incredible,” the way your eyes shine, a hint of pride echoing within your words, has a blush dusting Hongjoong’s features, the tips of his ears turning red as he clears his throat. “You’re incredible."

“It’s nothing,” he attempts to brush off your praise, a small shrug to his shoulders.

“Like hell it is,” you continue to stare at him with wide eye, a large smile pulling at your lips. "My sister is going to love you.”

“You think so?” Never have any of the others seen Hongjoong so timid. At least, not like this.

“I know so.” You hum, shifting your gaze to Seonghwa in the next moment. “She’s also big on fashion, so you two will probably instantly get a free pass.”

“Should the rest of us be worried, then?” Yunho jokes, a grin tugging onto his features.

“She can sometimes be more intimidating that my dad, so…” you trail off, raising your own brow teasingly. “But that’s if she and Vasco actually show up.”

Just like you said you would, you did manage to call your mother yesterday. Only, she didn’t let on if your sister and her husband were coming over for dinner, just that she and your father would be home all day.

“We’ll be prepared for anything and everything,” Wooyoung grins, an eager gleam shining within his eyes.

You smile back, a small nod to your head as you meet his gaze from across the counter. Honestly, you cannot wait for your family to meet all of them. There’s a certain eager pride building within you at the mere thought of getting to show them off to your family after so long of being single, that you cannot wait to see their reactions.

You can already picture it now. Your mother will probably give you her signature look where she blinks in disbelief while trying, and failing, to hide her surprise. Your father, on the other hand, will probably freeze in his spot and look like a deer caught in headlights before awkwardly clearing his throat.

You just have to brace yourself for your sister’s squeal of joy and subsequent ‘I told you so’s and ‘I knew it’.

An hour and a half later, after you’ve had a small bite to eat and finished getting ready, you’re heading towards the main foyer. You’ve already discussed just how you’re going to be getting to your parents house, much to their discontent.

It would be a bit alarming if you just suddenly popped up out of the blue on your parent’s front porch, not to mention with eight men, so you’ve all agreed to drive. Needless to say, you were a bit surprised when they told you that they could all drive cars, they just didn’t for convenience sake.

You had nodded at that, more caught up with the fact that they actually agreed to your idea without any push back. Well, San, Wooyoung, and Mingi still all pouted, but understood that they probably shouldn’t freak your parents out, or draw any unnecessary attention to themselves in the neighbourhood the first time they meet your family. Still, you cannot wait to get back in your car.

Driving has always been a way for you to clear your head; the way you can just cruise down the streets with your favourite music playing through your car speakers has always been able to relax you. Honestly, you’re looking forward to it, and besides, you could really use something to help clear your mind right now. Though, you don’t know how much relaxation you’ll find with Wooyoung, Mingi, and Yeosang all in the car with you.

That was one of the conditions you offered to them. Three of them could ride with you up to a certain point before heading back home to finish getting ready.

That, and you don’t think Wooyoung would have bothered to stop himself from joining you, anyways.

Needless to say, there was a big argument about who would be driving with you to start. You can still remember the way San pouted the entire time after the decision was made. A pout which still paints his features, arms crossed over his chest as the four of you walk towards the main entrance of the house.

“Well, I’ll see the rest of you later,” you say, a giddy smile on your features as you wave to them one last time.

For the first time since that night all of those months ago, you step through the front doors.

The exterior of the building is almost exactly as you remember it to be: grand, sleek, and beautiful. The only difference is that instead of those glass doors with the supposed hotel’s logo on them, they are now intricately carved wooden doors with glass windows covering the upper half of them.

You nod, approvingly, and even though it’s subconscious on your part, the three males that follow right behind you cannot help the way their hearts swell with pride at impressing you yet again in this way.

“Shotgun!” Wooyoung cheers, scurrying passed you and to the front passenger’s seat.

You grin, shaking your head, “someone’s eager.”

“We all are, Dearest,” Yeosang chuckles, walking over the the passenger’s seat directly behind the driver’s.

“We just love spending time with you, Starlight,” Mingi says, walking over to his designated seat now.

You quirk a brow. “So, how many times have you guys been driving with me without me knowing?”

Wooyoung shoots you a cheeky look from over the top of your car as he pulls open the passenger door.

You tilt your head expectantly, but the other two also remain silent, smiles tugging at their lips.

A sigh before you chuckle, shaking your head all the while. “Guess that answers that.”

Sliding into the front seat, you’re quick to start the car. Honestly, you’re surprised it still runs as smoothly as it does for the moment, considering you haven’t touched it in months.

“Jongho and I made sure to keep up its maintenance,” Mingi’s voice coming from the backseat has you sparing a glance at him from over your shoulder. “Just in case.”

“I didn’t know you guys were mechanics.” A soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips, your brows raising slightly in amusement. “I appreciate it.”

A moment later, you’ve finished connecting your phone to your stereo, your favourite songs playing gently through the speakers.

“Cars, weapons, machines, the house, you name it,” Wooyoung shrugs. “It’s all just another form of maintenance to us.”

Your brows raise even more as you put the car into reverse and finally drive away from your new home.

“You boys never fail to surprise me,” you hum.

“In a good way, I hope,” Yeosang meets your gaze briefly in the reflection of the rearview mirror.

You smile. “Always.”

The entire drive to your parents house is spent teasingly bickering with the guys, laughing all the while. Honestly, it’s the perfect way to clear your mind and focus on the conversation you’re sure to have with your mom when you get home. A fact which you could not be more thankful for.

At some point during the drive, Wooyoung had grabbed your one hand in his, seeing as you were driving with only your left on the steering wheel. The cheeky grin he sent you had you shooting him a brief side-eyed look in amusement, hearing Mingi grumbling about how he wanted to hold your hand instead. Hell, even Yeosang had crossed his arms at this, and you could just tell they were mentally complaining to Wooyoung about it the whole time.

Not that the younger minded. After all, he’s the one that got to hold your hand.

No wonder he wanted to sit in the front.

“Okay, we’re almost there,” you comment, turning onto one of the backroads that lead into your parent’s subdivision.

“Aw,” Wooyoung pouts. “Do we really have to go?”

You only quirk your brow in response. You all agreed that they would transport themselves back home before you reached your parents place, just so that your parent’s nosy neighbours wouldn’t get suspicious seeing four people drive up in a car, only for one to get out of it.

“We just don’t want to leave you, Starlight,” Mingi complains, a slight whine to his voice.

“You all agreed to the terms and conditions beforehand,” you spare a glance at Wooyoung. “Don’t make me turn this car around.”

“I don’t think any of us would complain about spending more time with you driving back home, Dearest,” Yeosang chuckles.

“I swear, if you guys could attach yourself to me like a symbiote, you would.” You snort, shaking your head.

Wooyoung smirks, his eyes flashing. “Don’t give me ideas.”

“Okay,” Yeosang’s eyes widen, his lips tightening into a thin line. “And on that note, I think it’s time for us to leave.”

“No!” Wooyoung whines, his lips pulling downwards dramatically. “I don’t want to!”

“Neither do I, but we promised we’d stick to the plan,” Yeosang replies, shaking his head at the way Wooyoung crosses his arms grumpily over his chest.

“I’ll probably be contacting you guys soon enough,” you chuckle, noticing how Mingi remains quiet for the time being. “Besides, they’ll need you for the directions.”

Another condition of sending them back early after driving with you is so they can get the best route possible. Not that they’d really need you to show them the directions, but still, it’s the thought that counts.

“We’ll see you soon, Dearest,” Yeosang sends you one final tender smile in the reflection of the mirror before he’s reaching out and teleporting the three of them back home.

A puff of laughter escapes you just as you turn into your parent’s subdivision, shaking your head lightly at their antics.

Blinking, you adjust your focus to the houses around you, rounding the corner to turn onto the street your parents live on. After one more turn, you pull into the driveway, a smile on your face.

Finally, you’re home.

Immediately, a sense of nostalgia washes over you as you step out of your car after cutting the engine. A warmth begins to spread throughout your body, radiating from the centre of your chest outwards.

You take a deep breath.

Yeah, this’ll be good for you. You can already tell.

Walking up to the front door, a gentle smile rests on your face. In the back of your mind, you wonder if your mother has left the door open.

Much to your content, she did.

The chime of the front door opening greets your ears, and you can faintly hear music coming from the direction of the basement. Your father must be down there either relaxing or doing something else for the moment, then.

“Hello!” You hear your mother’s chipper voice call out from just around the corner of the kitchen. “You’re here early-“

Her voice gets caught in her throat as she rounds the corner to see you standing at the front door having just finished slipping your shoes off for the moment.

A breathless gasp of your name escapes her as she rushes over to you, wrapping you in her embrace. A hug of which you eagerly return, just as tightly.

“Oh, Sweetie, I’ve missed you so much!” She coos into your ear. “I had a feeling you were coming to visit soon after your call yesterday, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“I’ve missed you, too, mom,” you breathe out, practically melting into her arms. “It’s good to be home.”

“Well, come in! I’m making my homemade pasta sauce for dinner, you should stay!” She begins to lead you into the kitchen.

“If that’s okay,” you smile softly. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

You gaze catches on the baby grand piano right beside the front entranceway, the wood shining beneath the afternoon sun. It’s slight, but your breath hitches.

“Nonsense!” Her voice catches your attention, shifting your gaze to see her standing beside the entrance to the kitchen with her hands on her hips. “You’re family, you could never intrude.”

That warmth returns to your chest. “Thanks, mom.”

“Your father is just downstairs for the moment.” She continues as you walk into the kitchen. “He’s working out on the treadmill like he so often likes to do. It was raining a bit earlier, so he couldn’t go on his regular walk.”

“Oh, he must have been devastated,” you joke, hearing your mother chuckle along with you.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she grins, moving over to the stovetop to stir the sauce for the moment. “Anyways, please, come sit! Tell me all about what you’ve been up to lately. We’ve missed you so much!”

Pulling out one of the chairs at the counter, you’re quick to join your mother, who now stands eagerly on the other side of the kitchen island. She rests a hand on top of the granite, a giddiness to her features that immediately rubs off on you.

For the next forty minutes or so, you give your mother some updates on your life. Just some basics that don’t give much away as to what you’ve been up to with the boys, nor do you explicitly mention them at all. Though, with the way you notice her smiling at you, her eyes darting to the shining necklace you currently wear, you know that she’s putting a few things together.

“Speaking of that mall,” she begins. “I ran into David the other day.”

“Oh, did you now?” You quirk a brow, amusement shining on your features.

“First of all, he was more than happy to look into commissioning a pin of one of the Leaves of Lorien for me.” She says, and recognition flashes in your eyes.

Your mother has always loved The Lord of the Rings almost as much as you, and she’s admitted to wanting a broach like that for quite a while now. You’re just sad you didn’t think of getting one for her sooner.

“He told me a very interesting thing about when you went to pick up that necklace of yours.” A knowing gleam shines within her gaze.

“What did he tell you?” You hum.

“Well, a little birdie told me that when you went to pick up your necklace, which is beautiful, by the way-“ a pointed look.

“Thank you.”

She nods, smiling faintly. “He told me that there were two men who were with you at the time. Two very handsome men.”

“Of course he did,” you sigh.

“Sweetie, you know if you’re seeing somebody, you can tell me,” she meets your gaze. “Don’t feel like you have to hide your relationships from us. We only want the best for you.”

“I know, mom,” you exhale a long breath, chuckling slightly.

“Even if it’s the both of them that are your mystery lovers, as long as they make you happy. That’s the main thing.” She adds.

“You would be okay with that?” You shoot her a knowing look. “Me, being in a relationship with more than one person?”

She pauses for a moment, considering your words. Then, she’s nodding once. Firmly. “I would.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise.

“Like I said, as long as you’re happy, and they treat you right, that’s all that matters to me.” She nods in confirmation, voice firm.

“Thanks, mom,” you smile. “That really does mean a lot to me.”

“Of course, Sweetie,” she smiles back. “Now, why don’t you tell me all about those two mystery lovers of yours.”

At the wink she sends you, you laugh. “Actually, I would really like for you to meet them all.”

“All? So there is more than one?” Your mom quirks a brow knowingly.

“Oh, there’s more than one, alright,” you chuckle.

“Just how many of them are there?” She frowns lightly, tilting her head in confusion at you.

A tight smile tugs onto your features as you let out a bit of a nervous laugh.

“Sweetie?”

“Uh, well,” you chuckle nervously once more, eyes flitting everywhere around the kitchen but in her direction for the moment. “There’s…“

“Yes?” Your mother leans forward slightly.

You mumble out a response lowly, enough to have your mother’s frown deepening.

“Pardon me?”

A brief pause.

“There’s eight of them.”

A moment of silence settles over the both of you as your mother’s eyes nearly bulge right out of her head.

“Sweetie! Eight of them? Holy shit!” Her jaw drops. “That’s- that’s-“ your mother searches for the right word as you smile sheepishly, “incredible!”

You blink, caught slightly off guard by her reaction. “You’re not weirded out?”

“I mean, I was expecting three at the most, but eight? As long as you’re happy, and they treat you right, you can have as many as you want. Though, your father might have a harder time wrapping his head around this.” She chuckles as she nods, grinning widely. That is, until her expression is becoming serious in the next second. “Honey, you didn’t stumble upon a cult accidentally, did you?”

You cannot help it, you burst out laughing. “No, mom. I didn’t stumble upon a cult.”

She simply raises an eyebrow at you in response. However, before either of you can say anything else, your dad rounding the corner of the kitchen catches your attention.

As soon as he sees you, he freezes in his tracks. He blinks once before a large smile is stretching across his features as he meets your gaze. “I didn’t know you were coming for a visit.”

“Surprise!” You chuckle, waving slightly at him.

“It’s great to see you again, Sweetie.” He says, his eyes shining as he looks at you. “I would give you a hug, but I’m all sweaty at the moment.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be around for a while still.” You smile.

“She’s staying for dinner,” your mother chimes in, and immediately, your father’s smile widens.

“That’s wonderful!”

“I promise I won’t leave unexpectedly again,” you tease, hearing how they both chuckle in response.

“Well then, I’m going to go shower, but I promise to be as quick as I can!” With a new spring to his step, he’s hurrying back the way he came and up the stairs to go freshen up.

As soon as your father is out of earshot, your mother is turning to you with a knowing look on her features. “One hour later.”

You laugh along with her, cheeks beginning to hurt already from how much smiling you’ve done so far today.

Yeah, you really needed this. You just knew it would help.

“I can’t wait for your sister to get here, too,” she hums. “Did she mention she has a surprise for you the next time you see her?”

“Yes, she mentioned something,” you nod, mildly surprised your mother hasn’t already spilled the beans in her excitement.

“Oh, so then, when are we going to get to meet these mystery lovers of yours?” A wiggle to her brows. “Soon, I hope.”

“I was hoping you could meet them today, honestly.” You admit, watching your mother’s reaction carefully.

At the way her eyes light up, you know she absolutely adores that idea.

“I’m making pasta, so there’s plenty to go around!” She grins, already moving to the cupboard to pull out two more large cans of tomato sauce to add them to the pot.

“Do you need any help?” You immediately offer, going to push back your chair and stand.

“Not in the slightest!” She tells you, placing the cans onto the counter. “You just sit and relax. Tell me all about these partners of yours before they arrive!” A brief pause. “When will they get here?”

“I’ll message them now, but probably in about an hour or so,” you smile, a glint shining in your eyes.

“Perfect!” She scurries over to the pot, reaching into one of the cabinets to pull out the can opener next.

Grabbing your phone, you make a show of sending a message to someone for your mother’s sake. Even if you don’t actually send anything.

You drop your void.

So… you begin, your voice resounding through all of their minds and catching their attention. Who wants to come over for dinner?

You mean…? San replies, an eagerness to his voice.

Yes. An affectionate brush of your mind against all of theirs. My mother is very excited to meet all of you.

You swear you can hear Wooyoung cheering happily in your mind as they all brush back.

We’ll be there in an hour, My Love. Hongjoong replies, and you don’t have to see him to know that he’s smiling right now.

With Hwa’s driving, make that thirty minutes. Yeosang chuckles.

Man nearly tore the car door open as soon as you reached out to us. At the way Jongho huffs, you can just tell he’s shaking his head in amusement right now.

Well excuse me if I’m excited. Seonghwa retorts.

Hurry up, you’re all taking too long! Wooyoung whines, and you just know he’s already in the car waiting for the others to join him.

We’ll see you shortly, Petal. Yunho chuckles fondly, brushing against your mind once more.

We love you, Starlight. Mingi hums affectionately.

You smile. I love you, too, My Kings.

Not even a moment later, you close your void.

Your mother manages to pull you out of your own thoughts by speaking, a hum to her words.

“I know that look,” there’s an understanding unlike ever before that paints her features as she meets your gaze. “They must be very special if you’re so caught up in your own little world like this after texting them.”

You avert your gaze, somewhat bashfully, to your phone which rests on top of the counter for the moment, a subtle heat rising to your cheeks. “They are.”

“Good,” she nods, that motherly look of affection dripping from her features. “I’m glad.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet them,” you grin giddily, wiggling slightly in excitement in your seat.

Your mother chuckles happily, “me neither.”

Almost immediately, you begin to launch into short descriptions of each of them. You don’t necessarily realize just how much your eyes light up as you speak of them, but your mother does. A fact of which warms her heart, glad to know that her little girl is all grown up and in love.

Before you know it, your ramblings span over the course of forty minutes, now able to add in little facts about things that you’ve done together with the guys that you couldn’t before. Minus a few details, of course.

“They all sound like real gentlemen,” your mother nods, approvingly.

You sigh, somewhat dreamily, “they really are.”

“I’m so happy for you, Sweetie,” she smiles widely, a gleam in her eyes.

“Thanks, mom,” you return her smile, somewhat shyly as you realize you’ve just spent almost an hour gushing about them to her.

Looks like you care even more about them than you thought. That, and the fact that you can finally talk about them to another person, and that person being your mother, is just so freeing. You’re so glad you can finally share your adventures with your family, even if they’re somewhat altered for the moment. Talking about everything most certainly is making you feel better, and brightening your spirits.

“From the sounds of things, they really love you, too.” She hums, stirring the sauce once more.

Your gaze darts to your hand resting on top of the counter. The same hand Wooyoung had been clinging onto in the car for practically the entire ride. “Yeah. They really do.”

“Just know, if they hurt you in any way, I’ll send both Sammy and Wolfie after them!” She mockingly threatens, turning to you with the wooden spoon still clutched in her hand.

“Oh, boy! I don’t think they’d be able to survive that,” you giggle, grinning right along with your mother. “Speaking of, where is that Monkey Boy? I’m surprised he hasn’t strutted down the hallway looking for attention yet.”

“He’s probably up in your old room, on your bed, sleeping,” she says, eyes briefly darting upwards in the direction she’s referring to.

“Of course he is,” you sigh teasingly, shaking your head.

Just as you go to push your chair out to go see him, a knock sounds at the front door.

Your heart skips a beat, nearly feeling it leap into your throat as you realize just what that knock means.

“Oh, is that them?” Your mother giddily scurries towards the front door, smoothing out the front of her shirt all the while.

“Most likely,” you reply, following right behind her and noticing how she also goes to smooth out her hair. “Relax mom, you look as lovely as you always do.”

“Oh, you!” She smiles bashfully, but you can tell that your words have helped assure her for the moment as she watches you walk passed her.

Reaching for the handle, you’re quick to pull open the door.

A smile tugs at your features as you see eight familiar males standing just on the other side. “Hello, boys.”

Opening the door wider, you step back to allow them entrance into your parents home.

“Hello, Dearest,” Yeosang is the first to enter, placing a brief kiss onto your cheek as he steps into the house.

Mingi is the next to step through the threshold, a bottle of red wine held in his hands. As soon as he sees you, a smile lights up his features. “Hi, Starlight.”

Subsequently, as each male enters, they greet you tenderly, either placing a kiss onto your forehead, or your cheek, smiling all the while. What you fail to notice, is how their eyes all light up as soon as they see you, such fond looks of affection shining within their gazes.

Looks of which your mother is quick to catch on to.

She smiles.

Closing the door quickly, you take a step back to observe them all as they stand just inside the foyer. Yunho holds another bottle of red wine, while both San and Seonghwa hold a bottle of white each. Wooyoung appears to be holding a box of chocolates in his hands, while a bouquet of flowers is cradled within Hongjoong’s arms. A book is held in Jongho’s hands.

“Sweetie, you didn’t tell me just how handsome they all are,” your mother teasingly tuts, stepping forward to greet them.

“Thank you,” Hongjoong smiles bashfully, a blush beginning to dust his cheeks along with Yeosang’s, Mingi’s, and Jongho’s. “I can now see where My Love gets her stunning beauty from.”

“Oh, you’re certainly a charmer, aren’t you?” Your mother giggles. “I’m so glad you all could join us for dinner.”

“Thank you for inviting us,” Yunho replies graciously.

“Something smells absolutely delicious,” San hums, excitement shining in his eyes.

“You have a lovely home,” Yeosang adds, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Thank you very much,” a certain pride laces your mother’s words as she stands a little straighter.

“Here,” Hongjoong gently addresses your mother formally by your last name. “These are for you.”

“Please,” a certain gleam begins to shine within your mother’s eyes as she takes the bouquet of flowers from Hongjoong’s outstretched hands. The smile that graces her features is nothing short of touched as she sees the type he’s given her. “Call me Kaitlyn.”

The way she addresses all of them has a warmth already spreading throughout their chests. So far, the interaction between them all is going well, and they could not be happier.

“Lillies of the valley?” Her voice is soft, tender as she meets his gaze. “These are my favourite. How did you know?”

Briefly, Hongjoong’s eyes dart over to your figure leaning casually against the wall a little ways away.

“How thoughtful.” She hums. “You must be Hongjoong, then. My daughter says you have a habit of bringing her flowers.”

Again, his gaze briefly darts over to you. The tips of his ears begin to turn red.

“I am.” He nods, somewhat shyly in confirmation.

“She also tells me that you have an eye for design,” a knowing look is sent his way.

“It’s really not much,” he attempts to humbly brush off the praise, the blush spreading down his neck soon after.

“He’s being bashful,” you chuckle, grin tugging at your features.

“In fact, she’s told me a little bit about all of you,” Kaitlyn continues, eyes briefly glancing over all of them with a somewhat fond look shining in her eyes. “Please, do come in.”

Eight affectionate brushes are felt against your void, and you can just tell that it’s them asking you if you’ve really talked to your mother about them. At the subtle way you nod your head in response, they can feel their chests swelling with that familiar happiness even more.

Just then, the sound of footsteps hopping down the stairs reach your ears.

Turning your head, you see your father make it to the second landing of the stairs before lifting his head and stopping in his tracks. His eyes widen significantly before a furrow is pulling to his brow at seeing eight unfamiliar men standing just inside the front entranceway.

You nearly laugh at the sight. Looks like you were right about your father’s reaction.

“Papa!” Your excited voice calling out to him draws his attention.

Not even a moment later, he’s finished walking down the stairs to meet you halfway to wrap you in his embrace.

You bury your head into his chest as he holds you tightly, a large smile on his face.

“How’s my little girl? I’ve missed you,” his voice rumbles out, low and full of rough emotions as you feel his grip tighten ever so slightly around you.

You giggle. “I’ve missed you, too.”

You fail to see the way your mother gazes on so tenderly at the two of you, but the others do.

Smiles of their own tug subtly onto their features as the intimacy of the moment washes over the room. They can tell that you two haven’t seen one another in a very long time, and the happiness they can sense simply radiating off of the both of you rubs off on them immediately.

After another few seconds, your father is pulling away. His hands rest on your upper arms as he studies your features, a gentle smile tugging at his own. That is, before his gaze is shifting slightly towards the eight males still standing by the door.

“Who…” your father trails off, eyes narrowing the faintest bit in their direction before taking note of the bouquet of flowers now held in your mother’s arms.

“Perfect timing,” you chuckle, stepping away from your father for the moment as a soft smile adorns your lips. “Mom, dad, I’d like you to meet Yeosang, Mingi, Yunho, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Jongho, San, and Wooyoung. My significant others.”

As you say each male’s name, they each give a polite bow of their heads in acknowledgement towards your parents. Of course, you make it a bit simpler by going in order from left to right, too.

Your father’s reaction is immediate: his eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline, eyes going wide as he looks like a deer in headlights. You swear he’s also stopped breathing for a moment there as his eyes flit over each of the eight males standing before him.

“It’s so lovely to meet the people who have been the cause of our daughter’s happiness over the past few months.” Your mother smiles, clutching the bouquet of flowers a little closer to her chest.

“The pleasure is all ours,” Seonghwa returns her smile wholeheartedly.

“Truly, it is an honour.” San adds, and you watch as they all bow in unison towards your parents.

“Thank you, again, for inviting us into your lovely home,” Wooyoung voices as soon as they straighten, staring deeply into your mother’s, and then your father’s eyes.

“They’ll be joining us for dinner,” your mother leans into your father slightly, and you watch as you see your father nod in understanding.

“Well then, let’s not stand at the door all day,” the way an instant sense of relief fills the room as your father says this has a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

The instant your parents turn around and begin walking towards the kitchen, you shoot the eight of them a thumbs up and a wink. Actions of which fill them all with a sense of pride as they slip off their shoes and follow you further into the house.

As soon as you all enter the kitchen, you see your mother stirring the sauce and your father standing just beside the counter.

“I see you’ve brought wine,” he nods, approvingly. “Good lads.”

Mingi is the first to hand his bottle to your father, jumping into an explanation as to why he chose each bottle as they’re placed onto the counter beside him. You can see how your father continues to nod approvingly at the choices Mingi has selected, listening intently to every word he says.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you see San subtly inching towards your mother who stands beside the stovetop. A second later, and he’s offering his cooking services to her to help in any way that he can.

She readily agrees, shooting you a look of acknowledgement in the process.

You smile.

Wordlessly, you move over to grab a small vase from the cupboard, seeing as your mother is now conversing with both San and Yunho for the moment while Wooyoung presents the chocolates to your father. You can tell your parents already like them, seeing as how naturally they’ve slipped into conversation with most of them as they stand around the kitchen.

Once you have the vase in your hands, you move to begin arranging the flowers Hongjoong got for your mother for her. Only, he gently takes your place, automatically placing the flowers in the vase once it’s filled with water.

Your mother just about steps in to stop him, stating how she shouldn’t be letting a guest do that work for her. Yet, at Hongjoong’s insistence, she backs off with a small nod and a smile.

Stepping around the counter once more, you stand just behind the chair you had been occupying for the past while. Placing your hands onto the back of the seat, you spare a glance around the room, feeling your heart swell with fondness at the scene surrounding you.

Just as Yeosang comes to stand beside you, you notice Jongho beginning to converse with your father.

“I brought this for you, Sir,” Jongho presents the book in his hands to your father. “I thought since you’re an author, and one of our,” he spares a brief glance in your direction, “favourite things to do is read and share literature together, I would bring you one of my favourite books.”

Your father nods, accepting the book graciously with a small thank you falling from his lips. “Feel free to call me Nick.”

That cover looks very familiar.

You see recognition flash across your father’s face, his eyebrow quirking in amusement.

“Oh,” a teasing lilt can be heard within Nick’s voice. “Would you like me to sign this for you instead?”

Immediately, all heads are turning towards your father as Jongho stands there with wide eyes, completely caught off guard by his statement.

“Pardon me?” The shock is clear in Jongho’s voice as he stands there, arms still half raised in the air in front of him as he blinks at Nick in surprise.

“I’m assuming she told you,” Nick chuckles, holding up the book slightly in his hand. “This is my pen name.”

You never thought you would see the day were it looked like Jongho would faint from shock, but alas, here he is, standing frozen to his spot. The youngest looks about ready to spontaneously combust, red creeping up his neck as he turns to look at you with a somewhat tight smile on his lips.

“No,” he replies. “I had no idea.”

Your father chuckles, walking over and bonking you lightly on the top of your head with the book. “Are you still on about that thing that happened in high school with Linda?”

“Oh, fuck no,” you nearly scoff. “The fact merely didn’t come up yet.”

“Linda?” Seonghwa quirks a brow at you, and you can tell from the subtle way they all spare glances at your from the corner of their eyes, they’re all curious about what happened.

You share a look with your father.

“Final year of high school, my homeroom found out who my dad was. Linda just so happened to be a big fan of his work.” You explain.

“I still think you should have torn her hair out when you found out, Sweetie,” Kaitlyn supplies, with an air of casualty to her tone.

Hongjoong nearly drops the flower in his hands.

“Mom, you and I both know that would have been a little too violent at the time,” you reply. “Besides, she ended up getting suspended, anyways."

Mingi frowns. “What did she do?”

“Oh, she became friends with me to try and impress my dad,” you recount, a certain gleam shining within your eyes as you spare a glance around at all of them. “Wasn’t subtle about it, either.”

You swear that if your parents weren’t in the room, eight low growls would have resounded in your ears.

“She used you?” Wooyoung frowns, disgust clear on his features.

“Eh,” you shrug. “It’s not like I didn’t really see it coming.”

Yeosang places a gentle hand onto your lower back, yet you can just tell how he feels at the moment. You can feel it in the way his fingers press into your skin.

So, you decide to quickly change the subject. Sort of.

“Speaking of, did you finally figure out the ending to your next novel?” You shift your gaze to your father.

Instantly, his eyes are lighting up. “I did!”

Nick jumps right into explaining his next novel, excitement clear on his features. The way you can see all of them listening intently to what he’s saying warms your heart. You can just tell Jongho is hanging on to every word.

“In fact,” he turns his attention to Jongho, “come with me.”

Your eyebrows raise in amusement as you watch your father lead Jongho into his office right down the hallway, Mingi and Yunho following close behind.

“Oh, now look what you did,” your mother chuckles. “You know how much your father loves talking about his books. Those poor boys will be stuck in there for hours.”

“I heard that!” Nick calls out teasingly from inside the office.

“Believe me,” you grin. “I don’t think they’ll mind at all.”

“Well, when you’re done,” your mother casually raises her voice to include your father in this, “show those three around the house. It’s about time we give them all a proper tour.”

“I think I speak for all of us when we say that we would love that,” Hongjoong turns to smile at your mother, seeing how he’s just finished arranging the flowers in the vase and pushed them to the centre of the counter.

“Alright then,” she places the lid over the pot, turning down the heat on the stove to let the sauce simmer. “You three,” she points to San, Yeosang, and Hongjoong, “follow me."

In the blink of an eye, she’s leading the three of them towards the basement, chatting all the while.

You spare a look at both Wooyoung and Seonghwa, the corner of your lips twitching upwards. “Come with me."

Without another word, you’re leading the two of them upstairs.

Once you reach the top landing, you’re turning to look at the two of them. There’s a subtle quirk of your brow as your gaze shifts from one male to the other, mentally debating on if you actually need to show them around or not. They’ve probably seen it all before, anyways.

Wooyoung’s brow raises, amusement dancing on his features as he looks around. “So, Gorgeous. Are you going to show us around, or not?”

“I just figured you’ve seen it all before,” you counter, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

“Surprisingly, we haven’t,” Seonghwa replies, and at the way he curiously looks around, you can tell he’s not lying to you.

“Alright then,” you turn back around. “Follow me.”

It takes you maybe all of five minutes to show them the majority of the upstairs. That is, until you only have one room left.

Anticipation claws at both Wooyoung’s and Seonghwa’s chest as you lead them into what they know is your room. Only, from what they recall of your memories, it’s completely different than they expect.

At the mild confusion lingering on their faces, you’re quick to speak.

“It’s been four years since that happened,” you begin, something tugging at the back of your mind. “My parents moved here two years ago.”

Recognition flashes on both of their features as they fully take in your room. Until scowls are pulling on both of their faces as they see what resides on your one wall.

“Honestly, I’m surprised my mom hasn’t taken these down,” you chuckle, looking over the few Taemin posters you have hanging on the one side of your room. “That, and I’m surprised someone hasn’t torn them to shreds.”

At the way you turn your pointed gaze towards your bed, the two cannot help but to chuckle.

There, laying on your bed with his front paws crossed over one another, lays Sammy, your parent’s cat. He has a smug look on his features as what appears to be a fuzzy blanket is bunched up on the end of the bed right beside him. His eyes haven’t left you since you’ve entered the room.

You cross your arms over your chest, a scoff escaping you in the next second. “Why am I getting the ‘welcome home, cheater’ treatment?”

The two males standing on either side of you laugh.

“It’s because you are,” Wooyoung chuckles, taking the time to lean against your desk at the side of the room.

You gasp, as if scandalized, “and here I thought what we had was special, Sammy.”

The moment those words escape you, he’s cooing, flipping onto his back and exposing his belly for you to come and give him scratches.

“Oh, I see how it is,” you chuckle, walking over to the bed and sitting on the edge of it. As soon as you start to pet his belly, he begins to purr. “Some belly rubs and all is forgiven, huh?”

“He is a simple man, with simple needs,” Seonghwa jokes, turning to study every inch of your room.

“He’s a Monkey, is what he is,” you begin to coo at Sammy, noticing how he stands back to his feet in the next second.

Laying back on your bed, Sammy is quick to crawl up your body, settling comfortably on your chest.

“Just like old times,” you grin, petting the cat happily as the two males watch on with nothing but affection dripping from their eyes. “Though, I’m surprised he didn’t come running to the front door as soon as I got here, or you guys for that matter. Probably having too much fun with his girlfriend.”

“His girlfriend?” Seonghwa quirks a brow.

You vaguely motion to your scrunched up blanket laying at the end of the bed.

Understanding flashes across both of their features as Sammy jumps off of you and scurries from the room.

You sit up, resting on the edge of the bed. A look of nostalgia crosses your features as you take the time to look around your room.

“I may not have been here for long, but I do have some good memories of this place,” you smile faintly, taking note of your somewhat empty bookshelves scattered throughout the room. “Though, I think the majority of my jewelry is still- yep!”

Opening the topmost drawer on the left of your dresser which sits right in front of you beside your bed, you pull out a small box. Opening the lid, your eyes take in the sight of all of your necklaces tangled in one great pile, rings buried beneath some bracelets.

“I don’t think I’ve touched this stuff in years,” you smile faintly, putting the box on top of your dresser for now. “I really only ever wore a few pieces.”

Your eyes dart to your small jewelry tree on the far right of your dresser.

A gasp escapes you. “No way."

Standing quickly back to your feet, you’re quick to snatch what appears to be a ring hanging from a somewhat thick chain from the tree.

“I can’t believe I forgot I had this,” you hum, gazing fondly at the item held in your hand as it sways slightly.

At the two curious gazes you can feel darting between the object in your hand and your face, you’re quick to grab another small ring off of the tree.

“A girl I used to know once got me two versions of the One Ring as a gift. One was this one,” you hold up the one on the chain, “and the other was this one.” A thinner version of the same ring is held in your fingers. “I always-“ you let out a small sigh through your nose. “I always planned to give this one,” you raise the chain slightly in your hand, “to my significant other, if I ever got one. Though, I don’t think I can split it into eight.”

“Then would you-“ Wooyoung clears his throat. “Would you keep the other one?”

“Yes,” you meet his gaze. “I always thought of it as having matching rings without the added concept of marriage attached to it.”

Seonghwa practically collapses on top of the small shelf you have at the end of your bed.

“Did you-“ he clears his throat. “Have you ever thought about marriage?”

“Oh, sure,” you reply casually, placing the two items back on top of your dresser. “When I was younger, I would joke about it all the time. Though, as I got older, it didn’t really have the same appeal to me.”

“What do you mean?” Wooyoung pushes himself off of your desk in order to slowly begin making his way closer to you. He sits himself beside his brother, the both of them looking at you expectantly.

“To have a piece of paper be the sole reason you can even acknowledge the fact that you’re married to someone just doesn’t appeal to me.” You shake your head. “I don’t know if it’s different for you guys, but if we’re together, we’re together. If you call me your wife, then I’m your wife. I don’t need a piece of paper dictating what I mean to you. I’d still sign it if my significant other wanted me to, but I think it’s more meaningful to acknowledge what we are and determine what that is ourselves, than with a signature on a flimsy sheet of paper.”

“Not to mention if things didn’t work out, then you have to go through the whole trouble of filing for divorce.” You add. “At least without a marriage certificate you can just end things without the hassle. It’s just easier that way, I think.”

“So, if I wanted to start calling you wifey…?” Wooyoung grins cheekily, a wiggle to his brows.

“I won’t stop you,” you grin. “Like I said, there are other means of acknowledging being in a relationship that I prefer. The most important being how we define ourselves. That’s what really matters.”

“Okay, so if what I’m understanding is correct,” Seonghwa nods, a gleam in his eyes as a cheeky grin pulls onto his features. “We’re married now.”

“Woah, slow down there, Mars,” you chuckle, turning your attention back to your jewelry tree for the moment. “Let’s make it through some things first before we actually start talking about that.”

At the way you notice him pouting out of the corner of your eyes, you chuckle.

“I’m not saying ‘no’,” you meet his gaze. “Just not yet.”

The way they both visibly perk up has a smile pulling at your lips.

“Besides, I do have something to give each of you, now,” you grin, pulling two pieces of jewelry off of your tree.

Moving to step in front of them, you face Wooyoung first. A necklace seems to be held in your hands as you smile at him softly.

“May I?” Your voice is gentle as you meet his gaze.

His eyes shine, lips parting slightly as he nods.

Stepping into him, you’re quick to bring the thin chain up and clasp it around his neck. A soft smile rests on your features as you look down at the small replica of a belladonna flower staring back at you. At the way his hand comes up to gently grasp the flower in his fingers, gazing upon such a gem with such awe, you know you’ve chosen right.

“Beautiful, but deadly,” you hum, noticing how Wooyoung’s eyes flash in recognition almost instantly.

A moment later, and you’ve stepped away from Wooyoung in order to place yourself directly in front of Seonghwa. Gently, you raise a hand in front of him, motioning for him to give you one of his own.

A look of complete wonder rests in Seonghwa’s eyes as he places his hand softly in your own. He can feel his heart racing as you begin to slide a silver ring onto one of his fingers, your thumb stroking over the metal as soon as it’s in place.

Sparing a brief glance down, Seonghwa takes in the sight of a small diamond embedded within an etching of a brilliant star.

“Planets tend to outshine even the brightest of stars,” you hum, thumb tracing over the band of the ring once more.

Nothing but awe fills each of their gazes as they continue to stare at you. Their hearts race erratically within their chests, hearts swelling as a warmth floods their veins. This moment is so tender to them, so significant, that nothing could take away the pure, unfiltered joy coursing through their very souls at this point in time.

You are everything to them, and this only just proves it.

A comfortable silence settles over the three of you as you all bask in this moment together. You take the time to lean into both of them, placing a tender kiss onto each of their foreheads in tandem, a smile gracing your features soon afterwards.

“Oh, are we interrupting something?” The teasing drawl of your mother’s voice catches your attention from the doorway.

You quirk a brow, “not at all.”

The four of them stand just inside your room, the three males looking around subtly. Again, you can see the distaste flash across their features, even if only briefly, at seeing the Taemin posters hanging on the side of the one wall. A fact of which that has your lips twitching upwards in the corners slightly.

“Looks like we finally caught up with you,” your father grins, stepping into the room with the final three males in tow.

The way Jongho still looks completely starstruck nearly has a chuckle falling from your lips.

“Well, I’m sure we can leave these fine gentleman in our daughter’s capable hands for the moment,” your mother begins to usher your father out of your room. “Besides, I need to go check on the sauce.”

Nick’s words of protest die on his lips as both Wooyoung and Seonghwa stand back to their feet.

“We’ll join you,” Seonghwa says, already beginning to follow after your parents with Wooyoung right behind him.

Briefly, you notice the two of them share a glance with the six others who have just entered your room, and you just know they’re speaking with one another in their minds. A fact which is only confirmed when six gazes turn towards you as soon as the others have left.

“Good timing,” you grin, walking back over to your jewelry tree. “I have something to give each of you.”

“You do?” There’s a slight bit of pleasant surprise clinging onto Yunho’s words as they all watch you carefully.

“I do,” you confirm softly with a nod of your head, turning your gaze to meet his own for the moment. “I’ve already given Woo and Hwa theirs, so now it’s time for yours.”

Motioning Yunho closer with your finger, you turn to fully face him as he comes to stand in front of you. A gentle smile rest on your features as you hold your one hand out for him, watching as he places his own in your hold in the next second.

Sliding your touch up, you’re quick to clasp an intricate bracelet around his wrist. Soft blue gems glitter up at him as what appears to be a stem of forget-me-nots wrap around his skin.

“I know it can’t replace what once was lost, but it’s a start,” you squeeze his hand, gazing deeply into his eyes.

At the way his breath hitches, you know that he knows exactly what you’re referring to.

“It’s more than enough,” he whispers lowly, eyes shining as he squeezes back.

Tenderly, you bring his hand up to your lips, placing a gentle kiss against his skin.

Yunho’s heart swells in his chest, a loving smile gracing his features. “Thank you, Petal.”

You nod, squeezing his hand one final time as he steps away. The way you can feel the other’s watching you carefully has your attention on them once more.

Just as Yunho begins to step away from you, you lock gazes with San across the room. With a motion of your head, he’s quick to begin making his way over to you.

“It’s a little on the nose, but I can’t picture it with anyone else.” You hum, turning briefly to grab another chain off of your jewelry tree.

Holding up the chain, an intricate trident pendant swings slightly in the air.

You meet his gaze, noticing how San comes to stand directly in front of you and blocks the others from your sight.

Wordlessly, you mouth ‘My Aquaman’ to him once more, noticing how a pleasant shiver trails up his spine as you move to clasp the chain around his neck. You’re sure a pleased growl would have escaped him, too, were it not for the current situation he finds himself in.

As soon as the clasp in in place, a brilliant smile is shining on his features. Almost immediately, one of his hands comes up to begin toying with the charm affectionately, staring down at it in awe.

Slowly, San begins to back away from you, and you meet gazes with the next male.

“Moonlight,” you smile softly, motioning him forward with one of your fingers.

Mingi steps towards you eagerly, a grin tugging on his features as he watches you grab another piece of jewelry from the tree.

Again, you present your hand, palm facing upwards, to him, and almost instantly, his own is placed in yours. Your fingers settle over his pulse, flipping his wrist as you wrap a leather bound bracelet around it. Once Mingi turns his hand back over, he nearly lets out a gasp in shock.

There, sitting against the back of his wrist, is an intricately carved silver crescent moon, swirl like designs hidden within. The leather straps holding it in place are a dark brown, almost black, tied securely around his wrist curtesy of you.

“Starlight,” his voice is but a breathless whisper on his lips.

“The stars cannot shine without their moon.” You smile faintly, meeting his gaze as you squeeze his hand.

He squeezes back, eyes shining with unshed tears as he steps away from you.

The next male you call over to you is the youngest, of whom is more than happy to make his way over to you as soon as you motion for him to join you.

On the necklace you hold up to him hangs an intricate charm of a book. Although small, the silver cover is carved with vines, a small clasp near the side.

“Open it.” You encourage, allowing the charm to dangle between the both of you.

Wordlessly, Jongho reaches forward, grasping that little silver book in his fingers. The moment he flicks the clasp open, his breath hitches in his throat. There, held within the book, rests a small diamond heart, hidden within the pages of the novel.

He meets your gaze, eyes shining with all the unspoken words he wants to say. Yet, he doesn’t have to, for you already understand.

Stepping forward, you’re quick to secure the chain around his neck.

A bashful smile tugs at his features as a blush begins to creep up his neck. Instantly, his fingers reach up to begin toying with the charm, thumb brushing over the little pendant as he slowly backs away from you.

The next male you turn to begins walking towards you as soon as you meet his gaze. A soft smile rests on both of your features as Yeosang comes to stand before you.

“I’ve had this one since I was small,” you say, turning briefly to pull another necklace from the tree.

Again, you meet his gaze, and you know you don’t even have to say anything else for him to understand how much this single piece of jewelry means to you. How much he means to you.

The treble cleft pendant is small, a diamond shining in the centre of the worked silver. You’ve had it since you started learning to play the piano, and you know that he knows just how significant this piece is to you. To the both of you.

Once the chain is clasped around his neck, you brush your fingers over the pendant lightly. The way you feel him shiver beneath your touch has a smile tugging at your features once more.

“Thank you, Dearest,” you can hear the emotions within his voice as he meets your gaze, eyes shining with that all too familiar love and fondness he always looks at you with.

A nod of your head is all he receives back, that same look of fondness shining within your eyes as you watch him step away from you for the time being.

Now, for the final male who stands directly in the centre of all of his brothers.

Locking gazes with him, a soft smile pulls at your features. That is, until your eyes are briefly darting around to the other five males standing around him.

“May we have a moment alone?” The words haven’t even finished leaving your lips when the other five are moving to exit your room.

“We’ll see you downstairs,” Yeosang sends one final smile your way before closing the door behind him on his way out.

Turning your gaze back to Hongjoong, you notice how he stands, somewhat nervously, by your desk. His hands are clasped in front of his body as he shuffles slightly from foot to foot, the faintest hue of red dusting the tips of his ears.

“At first, I wasn’t sure what to gift you,” you begin, noticing how his eyes briefly dart up to meet your own. “After all, what could I gift the man who has given me everything?”

“Your happiness and love are gifts enough, My Love.” He replies, and you can just hear the sincerity in his tone bleeding through.

You shake your head lightly, that soft smile of yours still pulling onto your features. “It took me a little while, but I cannot picture it with anyone else.”

“My Love?” His breath hitches ever so slightly as he sees you beginning to make your way over to him.

“Close your eyes.”

The moment those words leave your lips, his eyelids are fluttering shut. You can see how anticipation claws at him, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths as he hears you approaching him.

The sound of a chain rustling reaches his ears, and he cannot help the shiver that caresses his spine as he feels the ghost of your touch grace the sides of his neck. A moment later, and he feels a small weight settle on the skin of his upper chest.

“I have had many ideals about love, Hongjoong, and you have always managed to go above and beyond every single one of them. You all have.” Keeping your voice low, you bring a hand up to gently caress the side of his face. At the way he immediately leans into your touch, you smile. “Open your eyes.”

The first thing that greets Hongjoong’s gaze is your face, looking at him so tenderly as that soft grin tugs at your lips. He can feel his heart racing inside his chest as he notices your eyes glance briefly down towards the necklace you’ve just secured around his neck. Not just any necklace. A chain with the One Ring dangling from it.

Hongjoong’s breath gets caught in his throat, eyes shining with nothing but pure adoration and love as he meets your gaze. “My Love.”

“I’m sure you overheard me talking about this earlier,” you reply, somewhat knowingly.

“I did,” his voice comes out a little strained, choked by his emotions for the time being.

“Then you know how much it means to me, in more than one way.” Your thumb tenderly brushes against his cheek.

“I do.” He breathes, tears finally gathering at the corners of his eyes. “Thank you, My Love. This means everything to me. You mean everything to me.”

“Hongjoong,” you smile, meeting his gaze before leaning in and placing a tender kiss onto his forehead. Your next words are a mere whisper against his skin. “I believe you.”

A comfortable silence settles around the both of you as you continue to stare into one another’s eyes. The love you can see shining within his gaze sets your heart racing, a look you’re sure is mirrored in your own.

“Come on,” you grin, grabbing his one hand in your own. “Let’s go back downstairs before my mom starts to think we’re canoodling.”

The way his eyebrows raise in amusement has a chuckle falling from your lips.

“Canoodling?” The grin that pulls onto his features is nothing short of devious as his eyes flash.

“Now, don’t be getting any ideas, Captain,” the way you teasingly drawl out that one title of his has a pleasant shiver running down his spine. You lean in slightly, voice low as your breath tickles the shell of his ear, “we still have dinner to get through.”

The faintest of growls escapes his lips, and you can feel the way the grip he has on your hand tightens ever so slightly. Only, before he can so much as respond, you’re pulling away from him. A bright smile paints your features as you let out a faint giggle.

“Come on,” this time, you begin to tug him towards your closed door. “Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Leading him back out of your room, you’re quick to rejoin everyone downstairs. Of course, you do not fail to miss the way all eight of them all seem to be standing a little straighter, eyes gleaming with a newfound shine as your look around at all of them.

In fact, a few of them seem to be crowded around your mother’s side as San stirs the sauce for her. It looks like he’s even started getting the noodles ready to be cooked as she turns the page of whatever book they seem to be so engrossed in.

That’s when you realize just what they appear to be looking at.

“Oh, and this was when she was four and we had her taking ballet,” your mother points at a picture in the album. “They were dancing Swan Lake that year, it was so cute!”

“I didn’t realize she had taken ballet,” Wooyoung hums, a grin tugging on his features as he spares a glance towards you.

“Mom,” a slight panic to your voice.

“And this was her first birthday with cake all over her hair,” Kaitlyn coos, a knowing smile pulling at her lips as she meets your gaze.

“Mom, please,” your eyes go wide, feeling as Hongjoong quite literally slips through your fingers to go join his brothers peering over your mother’s shoulders.

“I tried to stop her, Sweetie, but you know how your mother gets with your baby photos,” Nick chuckles, crossing his arms lightly over his chest as he leans back against the counter.

You sigh, “unfortunately.”

“Oh!” Your mother squeals as she turns the page once more. “And this is when she dressed as a little lion cub for halloween when she was three!”

“Mother.” You’re torn between being completely mortified, and laughing in disbelief. You shake your head in defeat. “They were bound to come out sooner or later.”

“I think your mother’s just happy to finally be sharing them with the people you care about,” your father hums, nudging you slightly with his elbow as you rest beside him.

“You’re damn right I am!” Kaitlyn grins. “What is a mother’s job if not to embarrass her daughters in front of their significant others?”

“Now I know how Crystal feels,” you chuckle.

“Speaking of your sister, her and Vasco should be here soon.” Nick comments. “They’re a bit excited for today since we can’t do dinner together next week.”

“What’s next week?” You inquire casually.

“Well, I’m taking your mother out for a special dinner,” he replies.

“Right,” you nod, almost subconsciously. “It’s your anniversary next week.”

The words fall so easily from your mouth that you don’t even register them until you feel the stillness settle itself over the room. That’s when the reality of your situation is hitting you.

You can feel eight subtle glances directed towards you for the moment as you freeze in your spot. For a second, you swear you forget to breathe as your eyes zone in on the floor at your feet. With everything going on, the actual date seemed to have slipped your mind.

You take a deep breath to steady your nerves, feeling eight gentle caresses against your void in tandem. You brush back.

“Thirty-five years, right, pops?” You turn your head, noticing how your father smiles as he meets your gaze.

“That’s right.” He confirms with a happy nod.

“Alright,” you push yourself off of the counter, meeting your mother’s gaze once more. “Is it tuned?”

Kaitlyn’s brow furrows slightly in confusion before recognition flashes within her eyes. “Actually, it was just tuned Friday.”

You smile faintly, “good.”

You barely make it three steps out of the kitchen before your father is calling your name, a slight confused furrow to his brow.

“How would you like to relive a memory, papa?” You turn to smile at him from over your shoulder, motioning for them all to join you at the front of the house.

At the way you notice the eight of them hesitating, you’re quick to reach out to them with your mind. You all can join us, you know. This one’s for you as much as it will be for them.

The moment your words echo throughout their minds, they’re all quick to join you. Of course, San briefly turns off the stove, shutting the fan off of the cooktop for the moment so as not to interrupt the scene that is about to occur. A fact of which earns him an approving nod from your mother, causing a subtle blush to creep up his neck.

There’s a giddy spring to your father’s step as he moves over to prop open the baby grand piano as you pull out the bench to sit. You see your mother step in beside him, the others surrounding you on either side. Still, you cannot help but allow your fingers to hover above the keys for a moment, hesitating.

The last time you saw a piano, you had been harshly thrown into it, the strings snapping against your skin. Even now, as you look down at the ivory beneath your hands, you cannot keep the memories from coming to mind.

A gentle hand is placed onto your back, and you turn your head to see Yeosang smiling softly down at you. There’s an undertone of concern hiding behind his eyes as his thumb tenderly rubs against the skin of your back, and you just know that he’s reminding you of what they’ve been telling you all throughout this past week.

They’re all right here. She cannot hurt you anymore.

Subtly, you nod your head, turning back to the piano in front of you. Again, eight gentle caresses are felt against your mind, soothing you even further as you flex your fingers out before placing them on top of the keys.

Turning your attention to your parents, you see them already gazing at you so fondly. Your father’s one arm is wrapped around your mother’s shoulder, just as her arm is wrapped around his waist.

“It’s been a while since I played this, so you’ll have to excuse any mistakes,” you smile lightly at them. “This one’s for you.”

The opening notes to Elton John’s Your Song begin to fill the house, transposed slightly in order to make the key more comfortable for your range when you begin to sing.

“Sweetie,” your mother’s awe filled voice reaches your ears as both your parents look on at you with awe.

The pull of your lips upwards is nothing short of sweet as you begin to sing. Your voice echoes throughout the open space, comforting them all like a blanket with each note that you hit. A fact which makes their hearts all race in their chest as they register that this is for them, too.

Not even a second later, your father is extending his hand out to your mother in offering, a loving smile pulling at his lips. A hand of which your mother places her own in somewhat shyly.

Pulling her in closer, your parents begin to slow dance to the melody that you create for them with this meaningful song. Each cannot help the way tears gather in the corners of their eyes, reliving very special memories all the while as they get lost in each other’s embrace.

The moment you hit the chorus, you drop your void.

“I hope you don’t mind,” every single tender emotion you’ve ever felt towards all eight of them washes over their very souls at this moment in time.

“I hope you don’t mind,” all the love, happiness, affection, and fondness you have for them floods their sense, and each male cannot help the way their breaths hitch silently in their throats.

“That I put down in words,” you smile, heart swelling in your chest as you think of your eight Kings surrounding you at this very moment. You brush against their minds. “How wonderful life is, while you’re in the world.”

You only play the first verse and chorus, but you can just tell from the way your parents turn to look at you afterwards that it was more than enough. Especially when you notice your mother quickly bring her hands up to wipe at her eyes.

“Thank you, Sweetie,” Nick’s voice is rough, choking slightly on his emotions as he meets your gaze. “That truly meant a lot to us.”

“It’s not every day you get to dance to your wedding song again, just like the first time,” your mother chuckles, eyes shining as she leans into your father’s side.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you smile at them.

“I don’t think we’re the only ones who enjoyed it,” at the way your mother’s eyes briefly dart behind you, you’re quick to turn around.

Eight tender gazes stare back at you, eyes shining with the emotions they cannot put into words for the moment. Emotions of which wash over you, seeing as you have yet to close your void to them yet. A fact of which makes you smile as you are once more surrounded by that familiar warmth you have come to experience with them, comforted by their love and affection just as you always are.

Again, you tenderly brush against their minds, of which they immediately brush back.

Standing from the bench, you’re quick to step out. A faint smile rests on your features as you move to stand beside Jongho for the moment who currently leans against the railing of the stairs for support.

Just as you go to say something the sound of the front door opening draws your attention. You hear the scraping of nails against the hardwood floor before you feel yourself being tackled to the ground, wet, slobbery kisses being placed all over your face.

“Wes!” You giggle, attempting to catch your breath after getting the air knocked out of you. “Yes, yes, I’m happy to see you, too.”

“Wes!” The booming command of your sister’s voice reaches your ears, and immediately, the dog is sliding off of you. “No jumping!”

“It’s okay, he’s just-“ the words die in your throat as you sit up to see your sister being helped through the door by Vasco.

The catch in your breath is noticed by all as your gaze settles in on Crystal’s stomach, swollen and round. The way you can see her smiling at you softly, your mother practically beaming out of the corner of your eyes, has you on your feet in an instant.

“Surprise,” she breathes, watching as you come to stand before her as Vasco gently shuts the front door behind them.

“You- I-“ you blink, fresh tears springing to your eyes as you take in her figure standing before you. You laugh, nothing but pure joy pulling at your features as the first of your tears begin to slide down the side of your cheeks. “You’re pregnant.”

She nods. “I am.”

“I’m going to be an aunt,” you voice, gaze darting between her stomach and her eyes.

“You are,” she confirms, her own voice now slightly rough as her emotions wash down upon her, too. “Again.”

You fall to your knees, hands hesitant in touching her stomach. That is, until you see her smiling down at you, a subtle nod to her head.

Gently, you place your hands on her stomach, fingers trembling all the while.

“I swear to you,” you begin, keeping your tone low as you meet her gaze all the while. “For as long as I shall live, no harm will ever come to this little one.”

You fail to see the way eight males straighten ever so subtly behind you, for they know that those words you have just spoken are true. They will do whatever they can in their power to make sure that you keep your promise, protecting that child as if it were their own. After all, it’s exactly what you would want. It’s exactly what you are going to do.

Your sister places a tender hand on top of your head, humming all the while. “I know.”

Softly, you lean forward to rest your forehead against her stomach, feeling the way your sister places her hands atop your shoulders. She gives you a reassuring squeeze, revelling in this tender moment with you as her sister, the meaning deeper than either of your parents will ever realize.

“Now, are you gonna sit there on the floor all day, or are you going to introduce me to your mystery lovers here?” The teasing drawl of Crystal’s voice manages to catch your attention.

“You caught me,” you sigh, a chuckle falling from your lips as you move to wipe your eyes.

“I knew it!” She jeers, practically pulling you back onto your feet in the next second. “Vasco, didn’t I keep telling you that she was probably hiding more than one mystery lover?”

At the way she turns eagerly to her husband standing beside her, you can just tell that you’ve been the topic of many conversations regarding this.

“You did, Honey,” Vasco chuckles.

“Let’s see,” Crystal hums. “Just how many of there are you.”

You quirk a brow in amusement, watching as she nods her head as she counts off each male.

Her eyes widen significantly. “Eight! There’s eight of you?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” you huff slightly, a teasing quirk to the corner of your lips.

“Blink twice if she’s paying you,” Crystal leans forward slightly, arms spread as if to hold you back at a moment’s notice.

“Crys!” You complain loudly, shooting her an exasperated look in the next moment.

“I’m just teasing you,” she chuckles, flinging an arm around your shoulders in the next second. “After all, what are big sisters for?”

“And here I was going to play you a song,” you hum, amusedly.

At the way her eyes nearly bug out of her head, she’s quick to begin apologizing. “You can still play me a song! I promise I won’t joke anymore!”

“You just missed her performing for us a few minutes ago,” your father adds, somewhat knowingly.

“Well, now you have to play for us!” Crystal states, matter-of-factly. “It’s not fair of you to deny little Elijah a chance to hear his aunt perform when she’s offering.”

“You’re having a boy?” Your eyes shine as you meet your sister’s gaze.

She nods, and immediately you wrap her in your arms. A hug of which she eagerly returns.

“He’s coming home.” She whispers lowly in your ear, her grip tightening ever so slightly.

A few moments later, you pull away, staring deeply into her eyes. Gently, you bring your hands down to grasp hers in your own, guiding her over to the piano. Carefully, you help her sit in the chair closest to the bench, giving her knee a light squeeze once she’s settled.

Not even a second later, Vasco comes to stand beside her.

For the second time that day, you settle yourself onto the bench, fingers hovering over the ivory. Your heart swells, and you find yourself taking a deep breath in.

With the first chord you play, you immediately begin to sing. The soft tune of Marianas Trench’s Forget Me Not fills the air, and the longer you perform, the more you find yourself glancing at your sister out of the corner of your eyes.

“I’m here to remind you, what’s lost is never gone,” you meet her gaze, and you hear her breath hitch as you do so.

You blink, facing forward once more.

“I’m not ready for what’s to come,” again you brush against those eight strings within your mind, letting them know that this song is for you as much as it is for her.

“But I wanted you to know, I still need you, my friend,” you smile faintly, hearing her breath hitch once more as understanding flashes within her gaze. “From the line to amend, to the cradle again.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice your parents holding onto one another as they watch this scene unfold before their very eyes. Tears line their vision, one already making its way down the side of your mother’s cheek.

“If memories are shadows, we’d best not waste the light.” Too many painful memories threaten to consume you, reminding you of all of your darkest times. Yet, beneath all that darkness, there is still hope. A golden hue that shines through with all the good memories you have, with all of them.

“I know you’re not quite here, but you’re not quite gone,” you will always hold onto your memories, even the bad ones. A sentiment that you know your sister shares as the first of her tears begin to trail down her face. “Sometimes the night gets darkest before the dawn.”

The only sound that can be heard throughout the house is you, the piano accompanying you accentuating your voice and the notes that you play. The song encompasses everything you wish to say to your sister and her unborn child, but also to yourself and your Eight Kings. You know the future is uncertain, and you know the road will be difficult, but you’ll get through this. Together. One step at a time.

“Life’s too short but the end is so long.” The final notes trickle out, softly ringing through the air as you still your hands over the keys once more.

The sound of your sister sniffling draws your attention to her and you turn your head to see her practically clinging onto Vasco for dear life. Her lower lip wobbles, hand coming up to wipe at her eyes frantically before meeting your gaze.

Everything she wants to say to you, you can see in her eyes. The gratitude, the understanding, but most of all, the love you can see shining within her gaze as she looks at you comes through clearly. A fact of which that has you smiling softly, the subtlest of nods to your head in acknowledgment as warmth floods your chest.

Eight tender caresses brush against your mind, and you let them in.

A content hum escapes your lips as their emotions wash over you for the moment. Shamelessly, all eight of them share with you exactly how you have just made them feel, for watching you, hearing you perform for them like this, means more to them than you’ll ever know. The fact that you have trusted them with such an intimacy which also reflects moments shared with your family has warmth flooding their veins, hearts pounding erratically within their chests.

“What a first impression I must be making,” Crystal jokes, drying her eyes. “Here I am sobbing in front of your significant others, and I don’t even know their names yet.”

You chuckle, a soft, teasing quirk to your lips, “what are younger sister’s for?”

“They’re staying for dinner, so there’ll be plenty of time for proper introductions then,” Nick adds, soothingly rubbing a hand over your mother’s back seeing as she’s finally calmed down for the moment.

You stand, moving to rest between Yunho and Seonghwa. Even though you’re only standing beside the two males, you can feel them all surrounding you, offering you comfort yet again in their own ways.

You smile.

“So,” your mother clears her throat, clapping her hands once to catch everyone’s attention, “who’s hungry?”

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